#like. people use words in ways that are comfortable and easy and quick and throwing a fit that they're not doing it the way you do it

[leatherbookmark]

kind of devastated that "fancam" is replacing "fanvid" as a word, despite meaning something totally different and more narrow. words have meanings :'(

[quinzzelx]

Shadows and Starlight

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Mor return from a long mission on the Continent. Nine Months have passed since your departure and you couldn't wait to reunite with your best friend, a best friend you'd had a crush on for centuries. Only that Azriel wasn't there when you returned home. He would only return on Starfall.

Part 02

Word count: 4.5K

Warnings: A little spice at the end there. But honestly just a little! Otherwise Fluff, Reader being part of the IC!! I have not proof-read it yet.

A/N: Well, hello there! I have never posted writing for this Fandom before, so I truly hope it is enjoyable and finds it's people. Overall, I haven't really been posting on this blog in ages and felt inspired. I would love to write a second part if this is received well. This isn't proofread yet, I will do that eventually, so I apologize for possible errors. Please let me know what you think and feel free to drop into my inbox.

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The night was cool and crisp as you and Mor made your way through the streets of Velaris, the city lights casting a warm glow over the cobblestone streets. Returning to Velaris had been a relief, the mission Rhys had sent you on should have taken no longer than six weeks, lastly spanning nine months that felt like an eternity. What should have been a rather quick trip to the Continent turned out to be far more complicated than anticipated. You were supposed to look into the whereabouts of a magical artifact while Mor should keep up her work as emissary. What you did not take into account whatsoever was the uprising conflict between two of their biggest noble houses, which complicated things. Trust was not easy to come by. Diplomats and Mediators by day and treasure hunters by night. Of course, you also had plenty of time to bask in the sunlight, smothering heat seeping into the marrow of your bones. Even with Mor by your side, there had been moments of homesickness that gnawed at your heart, a longing for the familiar comforts of home that seemed to grow with each passing day.

But now, as you made your way through the streets of Velaris, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. The city was alive with the buzz of activity, its streets bustling with life and energy. Even the stars seemed to shine and twinkle brighter than usually, welcoming you back. It was good to be home. As you stepped into the grand foyer of the House of Wind, you felt a rush of nostalgia wash over you. Albite nine months were nothing for Fae, you had missed this. The scent of fresh bread filled the air, no doubt made by Elain. A soft smile tugged at the corner of your lips at the familiarity, your shoulders relaxing slightly.

Mor wasted no time in making herself comfortable, stomping off to the sitting room and throwing herself onto the chaise with a dramatic sigh. You couldn't help but chuckle at her antics. As she settled into the plush pillows, you perched yourself on the edge of the nearby armchair, your gaze drifting to the flickering flames in the hearth. The crackling fire cast dancing shadows across the room, its warmth a comforting embrace after the long journey home. "So, what is on your mind?" Mor's voice broke through the silence, her eyes fluttering open as she regarded you with a curious expression. You let out a soft sigh, your thoughts drifting back to the tribulations of your time overseas. "It was... intense," you replied, voice tinged with a hint of weariness. "So much happened.” You groaned then. “Cauldron boil me, I really don’t want to fill out that mission report…” Mor nodded in understanding, a sympathetic smile playing on her lips. "I can imagine, me neither" she said, her tone filled with empathy. "But Rhys will not push us. He probably missed us as much as we missed him. It’s been a while after all.”

You smiled gratefully at her words, a sense of relief washing over you. "Yeah, you're right," you agreed, your spirits lifting at the thought of being back in Velaris once more. Back home. You fell into a comfortable silence then, the crackling fire the only sound echoing in the room. But beneath the surface, you felt a restlessness stirring within yourself—a longing to see him, to feel the familiar comfort of his presence. Obviously you missed the entirety of your family wholly. Definitely not thinking about one person more than the others. At least that is what you told yourself.

"I'm going to check on Az," you said suddenly, your voice breaking the silence. "I haven't seen him in a while…" Mor raised an eyebrow inquisitively, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Really now? Here I thought we saw none of them in a while." she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Missing someone, are we?" You felt a blush creeping into your cheeks at Mor's teasing tone, but you brushed it off with a playful roll of your eyes. "Don't be ridiculous," you retorted, though the fluttering in your chest betrayed your true feelings. With a playful wink, Mor waved you off, her attention already drifting back to the warmth of the fire. "Go on then," she said, her voice soft but encouraging. "I'll be here when you get back." And with that, you rose from your seat and made your way to Azriel's room, your heart fluttering with anticipation at the thought of seeing him again after so long. With a sense of anticipation bubbling in your chest, you picked up your pace subconsciously, your steps quick and eager. You had grown so close over the years, so comfortable in each other's company, that knocking on doors had become a formality you rarely bothered with anymore- and even if you usually still found yourself knocking from time to time, you just were too excited.

But as you pushed open the door to Azriel's room, your heart sank at the sight of the empty space before you. The room was quiet and still, save for the faint scent of cedar that lingered in the air—a stark reminder of the Male you had missed so much. Disappointment tugged at your heart as you surveyed the deserted room, your lips curling into a soft frown. It was Starfall in just a few days, you really thought, hoped, he’d be here when you returned. Before you could dwell on your thoughts any longer, a familiar voice broke through the silence, startling you. "So, Y/N, are you finally going to confess your undying love for my brother?" he quipped, his tone laced with amusement. You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of your lips now as you threw yourself into Cassian's awaiting arms. You had missed him, missed all of them, but the absence of Azriel weighed heavily on your heart somehow. After you pull away from your embrace, Cassian offers you a kind smile, his eyes warm with understanding.

"Hey, just so you know, Az has been on a mission for the past few days," The tall Illyrian says gently, his tone filled with reassurance. "But he should be back before Starfall." You feel a surge of relief at the news, your heart fluttering with anticipation at the thought of seeing Azriel again. You waited nine months, you could wait a few more days. "Thank you, Cass," you says sincerely, gratitude shining in your eyes. Then the tall male shifts on his foot, raising an eyebrow in mock offense, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. "Hey now, Y/N, I hope you're not just excited to see Az," he says with a dramatic sigh, placing a hand over his heart in mock hurt. "I mean, I know I'm not as brooding and mysterious as our Shadowsinger, but a little appreciation for your favorite warrior wouldn't hurt." You roll your eyes again with a grin, shaking your head at Cassian's antics. "Oh, please, Cass. You know you're my second favorite warrior," you quip, your tone teasing as you give him a playful shove. You share a moment of laughter before Cassian's expression turns more serious, his gaze softening as he looks at you with genuine concern. "How was the mission? Everything okay?"

Nodding, your smile faltering slightly as you recall the challenges you faced overseas. "It was... intense, to say the least. But we made it back in one piece, thanks to Mor and her quick thinking."

Cassian nods in understanding, his expression reflecting his relief. "Well, I'm glad you're both safe. We'll have to celebrate your return properly, once you've had a chance to rest." Humming you find yourself relaxing into the familiar warmth of his company. You nod in agreement then. “Yeah, Rhys always has something up his sleeve for Starfall,” you say, voice tinged with anticipation. “I can only imagine what he has planned for this year.” Both of you fall into comfortable silence for a moment. Only when a yawn claws itself up your throat and past your lips does Cassian speak again. “Does Rhys know you’re back?” His gaze is gentle in the way he looks at you, it was easy to tell that the oaf missed you just as much.

Stretching your tired muscles slightly, you nod hastily. "Yeah, you should have seen his face when he came barging into the kitchen and saw us drink tea with Feyre." A soft chuckle leaves him then, and you share a knowing grin as you both recall similar situations.

Making your way down the hall, you find Mor fast asleep on the chaise lounge in the sitting room, her features relaxed in slumber. Cassian retrieves a soft blanket from the nearby cupboard and gently drapes it over Mor's sleeping form, his movements gentle and caring.

You settle into the chairs nearby, he joins you, and the two of you engage in light conversation, catching up on the latest developments with Nesta and the Valkyrie. You share stories and anecdotes, laughter punctuating the quiet of the night as you relish in each other's company. Eventually, exhaustion catches up with you, and you bid Cassian goodnight before retreating to your own chambers for some much-needed rest.

As you settle into bed, your mind can't help but wander towards Azriel. Despite the exhaustion weighing heavy on your limbs, thoughts of him linger at the forefront of your mind, like whispers in the darkness. You can't help but wonder how he's been faring on his mission, what trials and tribulations he's faced in your absence. A pang of guilt tugs at your heart as you realize that you hadn't even sent word of your return, leaving him in the dark about your whereabouts. Closing your eyes, you try to push aside the worry and uncertainty that gnaws at your thoughts, focusing instead on the memory of his warm smile and steady presence. You find solace in the thought of seeing him again, of being reunited with the friend who has always been a steady anchor in your life. With a soft sigh, you let the rhythmic sound of your breathing lull you into a state of calm, allowing yourself to drift into a restless sleep filled with dreams of starlit skies and whispered promises. And as sleep claims you, you hold onto the hope that tomorrow will bring with it the long-awaited reunion you've been yearning for.

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The next days pass in a blur, the absence of Azriel weighing heavily on your heart despite the moments of joy spent with your family. You find solace in the familiar routines of daily life, in the laughter and chatter of your loved ones gathered together in the warmth of the House of Wind.

Mornings are filled with shared meals and lively conversation, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the aroma of freshly baked pastries. On the day before Starfall you find yourself amidst the hustle and bustle of daily life in Velaris, as you join Feyre, Mor, and Nesta for a day of dress shopping. The air is filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked goods, adding to the festive atmosphere of the day.

As you weave through the throngs of people, your eyes alight on a quaint boutique you’re all too familiar with, nestled between two bustling shops. Its windows are adorned with elegant gowns in every shade of the rainbow, their silken fabrics shimmering in the sunlight.

With a shared glance and a knowing smile, you make your way inside, greeted by the tinkling of bells and the warm smile of the shopkeeper. The interior of the boutique is a veritable treasure trove of fashion, with racks of dresses in every style and design imaginable. As you browse through the racks, your eyes are drawn to a stunning gown in a shade of deep midnight blue, its bodice adorned with delicate lace and sparkling sequins. It catches the light in such a way that it seems to shimmer and dance with every movement, and you can't help but feel drawn to it.

Feyre picks up a flowing gown in a shade of pale lavender, holding it up against herself with a thoughtful expression. "What do you think?" she asks, turning to you and the others for their opinion. Mor nods approvingly, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "It's lovely, Feyre. You would look stunning in that." Nesta, ever the pragmatist, arches an eyebrow skeptically. "It's a bit too... ethereal for my taste," she remarks dryly. "But if it makes you happy, then go for it." You can't help but chuckle at Nesta's blunt honesty, knowing that she speaks from a place of genuine concern for her sister's happiness. "I think it's beautiful, Feyre," you offer, a warm smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "But ultimately, it's up to you." Feyre returns your smile gratefully, her eyes sparkling with gratitude. "Thank you, Y/N," she says softly, her voice filled with warmth. "I think I'll give it a try." As Feyre disappears into the dressing room to try on the gown, Mor turns to you with a glint in her eyes. "So, Y/N, have you found anything that catches your eye?" she asks, her tone teasing.

You shrug nonchalantly, though your heart races at the thought of the dress you had spotted earlier. "Maybe," you reply coyly, a playful smile playing at your lips. "There was one that caught my attention." Nesta raises an eyebrow curiously, her gaze sharpening with interest. "Oh? And what does it look like?" she inquires, her tone betraying her curiosity.

You hesitate for a moment, your cheeks flushing slightly as you recall the details of the dress. "It's... um, it's a deep midnight blue," you begin, your voice trailing off as you struggle to find the right words to describe it.

Mor's eyes light up with mischief as she interrupts, a knowing smirk on her lips. "Sounds like something a certain Shadowsinger would most definitely like," she quips, her voice filled with amusement. You feel your cheeks grow even warmer at Mor's teasing remark, knowing that there is some truth to her words. "Maybe," you mumble, unable to hide the smile that tugs at the corners of your lips.

Before the conversation can continue further, Feyre emerges from the dressing room, the lavender gown flowing around her in a cascade of ethereal beauty. You gasp in awe at the sight of her, your heart swelling with pride and admiration.

"Feyre, you look incredible," you exclaim, your voice filled with genuine awe. "That dress was made for you." Feyre blushes at the compliment, her smile radiant as she twirls in front of the mirror. "Thank you, Y/N" she says warmly, her eyes shining with happiness. "I think I've found my dress."  As Feyre twirls in front of the mirror, her radiant smile lighting up the room, Mor and Nesta exchange knowing glances before turning their attention to you.

"Well, Y/N, it's your turn now," Mor says with a playful grin, her eyes sparkling again. "You can't just talk about that mysterious midnight blue dress and not show it to us."

Nesta nods in agreement, her expression curious. "Yes, I'm quite intrigued to see this dress that has caught your eye," she adds, a hint of amusement in her voice. With a nod of determination, you make your way to the dressing room, the anticipation building with each step.

As you slip into the dress, you can't help but marvel at how perfectly it fits, clinging to your curves in all the right places. The fabric is soft against your skin, the deep midnight blue hue shimmering in the light, casting an enchanting glow around you. The bodice of the dress is adorned with delicate lace, the intricate patterns weaving a spellbinding tapestry across your skin. The neckline plunges low, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of skin, while the back dips into a daring V, leaving just enough to the imagination. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the reactions of your companions, before stepping out of the dressing room to reveal yourself to them.

Feyre gasps in awe as she lays eyes on you, her expression filled with admiration. "Wow, Y/N, you look absolutely stunning," she exclaims, her voice filled with genuine wonder.

Mor and Nesta nod in agreement, their eyes wide with astonishment. "That dress was made for you," Mor adds. As you gaze at your reflection in the mirror, a surge of confidence courses through you. It's been so long since you've worn anything other than fighting leathers, and the sensation of silk against your skin is a welcome change. You feel sexy, beautiful, and alive in a way that you haven't in months, the weight of responsibility and duty momentarily lifted from your shoulders. For the first time in what feels like forever, you allow yourself to revel in the simple pleasure of feeling feminine and desirable.

But amidst the rush of excitement and adrenaline, there's a nagging voice in the back of your mind, whispering of doubts and insecurities. What will Azriel think when he sees you like this? Will he be pleased, impressed, or will he merely see you as the same old friend he's always known? You bite your bottom lip nervously at the thought, a flush rising to your cheeks as you imagine his reaction. But deep down, beneath the layers of uncertainty and self-doubt, there's a spark of hope flickering within you, a glimmer of possibility that maybe, just maybe, he'll see you in a new light. That maybe the feelings you had harbored for him for the past two centuries weren’t one-sided.

With a determined shake of your head, you banish the doubts from your mind, focusing instead on the here and now. Tonight, you'll revel in the joy of the moment, surrounded by friends who love and support you unconditionally. And tomorrow, well, tomorrow is another day. "I must say, I almost forgot you had it in you to clean up so nicely."

You roll your eyes playfully at Mor's teasing remark, unable to suppress a laugh at her antics. "Oh, please, Mor," you quip, your tone laced with mock indignation. "You act as if I've been wearing armor for the past century." Feyre chuckles, her eyes dancing with mirth. "Well, you certainly seem to be enjoying yourself in that dress," she remarks with a knowing smile.

Nesta, ever the pragmatist, raises an eyebrow skeptically. "Yes, but can you actually afford it?" she asks dryly, her tone tinged with amusement. You feign offense at Nesta's remark "Of course I can afford it, Nesta," you reply with a playful smirk. "I'll just put it on Rhysand's tab."

The group erupts into laughter at your comment. With a final twirl in front of the mirror, you turn to the shopkeeper with a grin. "I'll take it," you declare confidently, a sense of satisfaction washing over you as you make your purchase. "And put it on Rhysand's tab, of course."

The shopkeeper chuckles at your remark, nodding in agreement as she wraps the dress in delicate tissue paper. "Very well, Miss Y/N" she says with a smile. "I'll be sure to send the bill to the High Lord's estate."

With your new dress in hand and your spirits lifted, you bid farewell to the boutique and make your way back into the bustling streets of Velaris.

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Azriel strolls through the lush gardens of Tarquin's estate, the relentless heat of the Summer Court bearing down on him with an intensity that he finds almost suffocating. Sweat beads on his brow, trickling down his temples as he walks, and he can't help but curse the relentless sun that beats down from above, as if intent on draining him of every last ounce of energy.

He sighs heavily as he reflects on his current predicament, his thoughts drifting to the far-off lands of his homeland where snow, cold, and winter reign supreme. The sweltering heat of the Summer Court is a stark contrast to the familiar chill of the Night Court, and Azriel can't help but wonder if it's possible that he's somehow managed to burn his wings in the sun. But such thoughts are quickly pushed aside as he reminds himself of the task at hand. Everything had gone well with his meeting with Tarquin, and now he simply longs to retire to his chambers and escape the oppressive heat for a few precious hours of rest.

As he continues on his way, Azriel can't help but think about the upcoming Starfall celebration. Tomorrow would mark the end of his short mission in the Summer Court, and he couldn't wait to return home to Velaris. The thought of spending Starfall without Y/N weighs heavily on his mind, and he can't help but feel a pang of longing in his chest at the prospect. Suddenly, a voice breaks through his thoughts, a familiar presence intruding upon his mind with the ease of a whisper on the wind. It's Rhys, reaching out to him.

"Enjoying the summer heat, brother?" Rhys's voice echoes in his mind, a hint of amusement lacing his words. "Remember, not all of us are fortunate enough to have wings to shield us from the sun's rays."

Azriel can't help but snort at Rhys's teasing, the sound reverberating silently within his own mind. "I'd take a blizzard over this heat any day," he replies, his tone dry with sarcasm. "At least in the Winter Court, I wouldn't feel like I'm about to melt into a puddle."

Rhys's laughter fills his mind. "Ah, but where's the fun in that?" he quips "Besides, think of it as a challenge. A test of endurance, if you will."

Azriel shakes his head incredulously at his brother's words, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself. "You would find amusement in my suffering, wouldn't you?" he retorts. But Rhys's next words carry a weight of sincerity that catches Azriel off guard. "In all seriousness, Az, you'll be home before you know it," He assures him, his voice filled with warmth and encouragement. "Starfall is just around the corner, and there are loved ones eagerly awaiting your return."

There's a cryptic hint in Rhys's words, a subtle suggestion that Azriel can't quite decipher. He furrows his brows in confusion, his mind racing as he tries to make sense of his brother's words. After all, he's only been gone for a week.  Rhys's voice fades from Azriel's mind, leaving him with a sense of calm and reassurance. "Until tomorrow, brother," he murmurs silently.

Azriel retreats for the night, the weight of exhaustion heavy on his shoulders. As he settles into his chambers, a sense of relief washes over him at the thought of returning home tomorrow.

His mind wanders to how he'll spend his first day back in Velaris, imagining the familiar streets and faces that he's missed so dearly the past week. But amidst the anticipation, there's a nagging sense of longing that tugs at his heart. Clasping his scarred hands together, Azriel reaches into the pocket of his bag and pulls out a crumpled piece of parchment. It's a letter from Y/N, the only way they've been able to stay in contact while she's been away on her mission.

He doesn't know why he took the letter with him, but holding it in his hands brings a sense of serenity and comfort. Even though their last exchanged letters had been about a month ago, knowing that Y/N is safe and well brings him a measure of peace.

With a sigh, Azriel unfolds the parchment and reads over her words once more, the familiar handwriting bringing a smile to his lips. He makes a silent promise to himself to write to her as soon as he gets home. But now, as he prepares to return home for the celebration, he can't help but feel a pang of sadness at the thought of Y/N missing out. He wonders what she might be doing on Starfall, if she's found a way to make the most of the day despite being apart from their shared family.

Azriel knew how she hadn’t missed a single Starfall since… The heavy feeling of subdued rage settles in the pits of his stomach at the thought of what she endured during those dark years under the Mountain. He wishes he could have been there to protect her, to shield her from the horrors of their captivity.

His thoughts drift to a darker memory then, one that haunts him even now. He remembers her broken body, her spirit shattered and her light dimmed, when she and Rhys returned after Feyre broke the curse. The sight of her lying there, broken and bruised, fills him with a sense of sorrow and rage unlike anything he's ever known. He can still feel the weight of her pain, the echoes of her suffering lingering in the recesses of his mind. In that moment, all he wanted was to take her pain away, to hold her close and mend her broken spirit.  Azriel thinks of the first Starfall after they returned from under the mountain, how Y/N had opened up about her grief and trauma for the first time. He can still see the sadness in her eyes, the weight of her pain etched into every line of her face. It was a stark contrast to the joyous celebration unfolding around them, a reminder of the darkness that still lingered. From that day forward, Y/N never missed a single Starfall celebration.

As Azriel drifts off to sleep, frustration gnaws at his insides like a relentless beast. Despite his best efforts to push Y/N from his mind, she lingers there like a haunting specter, her presence weaving through his thoughts and dreams with an undeniable persistence. Rubbing his hand over his face in a futile attempt to banish the memories, Azriel can't help but feel a sense of shame at the intensity of his longing for her. He prides himself on his control, on his ability to keep his emotions in check, but she has a way of unraveling him like no one else.

And then there are the dreams - vivid and all-consuming, they play out like scenes from a forbidden fantasy, leaving Azriel feeling both exhilarated and guilty in their wake. They were friends. Just friends. Best friends, actually. And even though this urge was nothing completely unfamiliar, these thoughts had overtaken him completely as soon as she left.

Again his mind wandered. Asking himself how her lips would feel clashing against his, how she would wrap her arms around his neck, having to crane her neck for a kiss due to their height difference. What she would taste like, what sounds he could coax out of her. How those exact plush lips would feel wrapped around his cock.- A growl leaves him through clenched teeth. His eyebrows pinched as he squeezes his eyes shut, palming himself through his briefs. Confusion etched on his beautiful face then, because he just could not understand. She was his best friend, so why could he not stop thinking about her like this? Thus, so very determined, he decided that this had to change, while simultaneously fisting his heavy cock in one of his hands. "Fuck"

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I hope you enjoyed this little piece of my imagination. Feedback is always welcome and appreciated! Please let me know if you'd like a part 2 :)

[imaginetheonewith]

The one where Y/N gets jealous

Pairing: Joey Tribbiani x f!reader

Warnings: none (I think)

Author's note: It was not easy to imagine reader in the "Friends" universe, but .. hey! I tried my best and I do hope you all enjoy it. The lack of fanfiction about this tv show is criminal x

Red.

That is all could see in front of you at this moment. But it was not the type of red that you see when you are in love and the world seems to suddenly become a better place.

Oh no, it was way worse than that. It was the bright crinkly red, which was currently barely covering the tall blonde’s chest from lustful eyes. Or more specifically Joey’s.

“You know”, Chandler’s voice sounded next to you, “If you keep staring at her for 30 more seconds her head may catch fire. Or preferably that tight, low-cut…”

Your head whipped towards him and he quickly raised his hands in defence.

“… shoes!”, he cleared his voice, while pointing aggressively towards the girl’s feet, “These tight, low-cut shoes! Burn them! Burn them!”

Rolling your eyes, you turned your attention back to the bar, where Joey was shamelessly flirting with his ex, Angela. She was a beautiful and lean part-time actress, with an amazing fashion style, and wild blond locks. She was also the only girl who managed to keep Joey in a relationship for more than a few weeks. 3 years, to be exact.

It was not a secret that you did not harbor any warm feelings toward her. Not only did she break your best friend’s heart, but she was also the only one of his girlfriends that managed to catch on to your feelings towards him and use any chance she got to remind you that you will always remain stuck in the friend zone. It was almost as if she enjoyed inflicting pain on people around her and seeing them suffer.

“I can’t believe he is still talking with her”, you groaned, clapping your hands on your tights, “Look at him laughing! What could she say that is so funny?”

You didn’t wait for a response, before turning towards Chandler and pulling the newspaper away from his hands.

“Sure, I was totally done reading that”, he fake-smiled at you while grabbing his cup of coffee. His sarcastic remark went right above your head, as you grabbed his hands and squeezed them in yours.

“Chandler, you are one of the most, most special and valuable people in my life!”

“Well, I do have this effect on people”, he winked at you, while getting himself in a more comfortable position. You smiled with tightly pressed lips, doing your stop any smart remark that was sitting at the end of your tongue.

“And I would do anything… well, almost anything for you. Because I believe that when I need your help, you will do the same for me and-“

“Is it by any chance my birthday today?”, he interrupted you with a suspicious glare and you had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, “Because the Y/N I know is never, ever so nice, unless he wants something and-“

He paused for a second, his face falling with realization. He quickly pulled his hands away from you and pointed an accusing finger at your face.

“NO! Whatever is going in that pretty head of yours, I am not going to do it.”

Chandler tried to get from his seat, but you were quick to lay down and throw your legs over his, trapping him in his place.

“You didn’t even listen to me!”

“I don’t have to”, his words were mumbled through a fake smile and squinted eyes, “I already know what you are thinking. And I am not going to do it.”

You raised your eyebrow, challenging him:

“What I am thinking? Maybe I just want to show you how much I love you as a friend…”

“And also send me to the bar, so I can eavesdrop on Joey and Angela.”

“Damn, you’re good”, you mumbled under your breath, finally releasing your friend from your leg trap. Your head fell in your hands and you closed your eyes in a weak attempt to stop yourself from thinking about the couple just a few feet away from you.

There was no reason to feel like this. You knew Joey for over 6 years now and you’ve been best friends for just as long. You two became close almost immediately after Chandler introduced you to each other and much to everyone’s surprise, including yours, the actor never showed even a slight romantic interest towards you. On the other hand, you fell head over heels for him from the moment you met him. His charming smile, flirty jokes, and kind soul made you overlook all his bad qualities, and “red flags” Monica and Rachel warned you about. Sure, he did have a bit of a reputation with the ladies, but seeing how loyal was he toward his friends, you knew that he was capable of commitment.

He just needed to find his woman. His one true soulmate, who would love him and cherish him the way he deserves.

What wouldn’t you give to be this one woman?

“Hey”, Chandler tried to catch your attention, while his hands started rubbing small circles on your back, “It’s going to be okay.”

Besides Joey, Chandler was your second closest friend. Before he moved to his current apartment, he was briefly your roommate and with both of you being new to the city, it didn’t take long for you to form a strong bond. From being children of divorced couples to having a career in statistical analysis and not-so-lucky love life, you two lived almost identical lives. It was not a surprise you often found comfort in each other, knowing that there is no other person who can understand you better than him.

Just as you were leaning back towards Chandler’s shoulder, Joey jumped on the sofa next to you with a wide smile on his face.

“You won’t believe who I am having dinner with tonight!”

“Winona Ryder?”, Chandler tried to guess and you bit a smile. Joey on the other hand did not find the remark funny, rolling his eyes instead.

“Remember Angela? My ex-girlfriend? The one that I thought I am going to marry because we were dating for so long?”

“How could we forget her?”, you mumbled under your nose, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “She is very…. memorable.”

Joey eyed you with furrowed brows, his eyes stopping at your shoulder, where Chandler’s hand was still gently massaging you. He let out a scoff, before moving to his favorite chair next to the bar. He knew that you and Angela had a bit of a strained relationship in the past, but he was hoping that you would at least try to act excited for him, instead of being all cozy with his roommate.

“Wow”, he breathed out, “Still jealous, I see.”

His words made you freeze in place, your cup of coffee just millimeters from your lips. Chandler tensed next to you and while you could not see, you were sure he was mouthing something to Joey. You slammed your cup on the table and turned towards the actor, only to find him glaring at you.

“Excuse me?”

“Look, Y/N, I know you girls love to be competitive and compare to each other all the time…”, he stayed silenced for a second, his hands moving in slow circles in front of him as if it was helping him gather his thoughts quicker, “But there is no reason to feel that way towards Angela. You know you will always be my best friend. Nobody will change that.”

You let out a dry laugh, turning towards Chandler, who was watching the happening with wide eyes. He shook his head as a warning for you to not continue this conversation, but he quickly realized your mind was already set when you shook his arms away from you and stood from your place.

“Is this what you think? You think I feel threatened by Angela?”

“Well, I did not use exactly that word…”, Joey mumbled, trying his best to avoid your furious gaze. The regret of saying anything was already clear on his face. If he could turn back time by just a few minutes, he would’ve just kept his mouth shut and enjoyed a nice quiet afternoon with both of his closest friends.

You, on the other hand, were not about to let this go so easily. Jealous? Of Angela? Pffftttt. Pushing your hair behind your ears, you tried your best to keep your voice low and not startle all of Central Perk’s clients.

“Joey, as your best friend, I can assure you that not even a cell in my body feels threatened by that manipulative and sly snake.”

“Okay, you are just being mean now”, the feeling of regret quickly vanished and his eyes hardened in a glare, “What is your problem?”

Before you can even open your mouth to reply, Chandler jumped between both of you and raised his palms towards both yours and Joey’s mouth, preventing you from saying anything further.

“Ah, this is exactly how my parents were acting just before they got divorced”, he made a disgusted face when the memory flashed in front of his eyes. He turned towards Joey, “We are happy about you, Joey. All of us. But… you know… we all remember what Angela did to you.”

“She’s changed”, Joey whined with a high-pitched voice, earning another mocking laugh from you. This gesture immediately resulted in his features becoming serious once again, “You know what… I don’t care if you approve of Angela or not. I love her and I will not give her up. I know she is the one and we will be together… once she breaks up with Bob.”

“Bob?”, Chandler moved his hands away as if burned, “Who is Bob?”

Joey opened his mouth but then closed it again when he didn’t get the courage to say anything. For you, however, it was enough to confirm your suspicion.

“This is ridiculous!”, you groaned, “She has a boyfriend and she is still trying to get in bed with you. She is using you, Joey! I can’t even believe you are agreeing to take her out on dinner!”

“It’s not like I am taking only her. I am taking Bob as well!”

“Oh, that’s great. So all three of you can be one big happy… throuple.”, you grabbed your coffee cup and matched towards the bar, where Gunther was not even trying to hide his interest towards your argument.

“I don’t mean I am going to go out with both of them”, Joey argued, looking at Chandler to check if he agrees, “You don’t think I am trying to get both of them, right?”

Chandler just shrugged his shoulders in response, too scared to get any more involved.

“I am going to ask Monica to come with me, so it’s like a double date. That way I keep Angela for myself and Monica can keep Bob.”

“Monica?”, the name fell as a surprised yell from your lips, “Why not me?”

Joey let out a scoff as if you were asking the stupidest question he ever heard, “Well, you and Angela do not get along well… And also I don’t think Bob is going to be your type.”

The last sentence made you raise your eyebrows and you crossed your arms in front of your chest. A tiny voice inside your head was telling you to not dwell on his remark and leave instead before you do something that can ruin your friendship forever. However, your bruised ego could not handle Joey having the last word in this.

“What do you even know about “my type”? For all you know, Bob may be exactly the man of my dreams.”

“Yeah, right”, he laughed under his nose, directing his attention toward the sandwich Gunther just brought, “The guy is a dog food tester. How can that be your soulmate?”

“Well once I thought my soulmate is always an out-of-job actor”, you stomped towards the coat hanger, grabbing your coat and purse, “So how much worse can a dog tester be?”

Without sparing even a glance towards them, you made your way outside, ignoring Chandler’s calls. You didn’t know where you were going or what were you going to do. All you knew is you just need to be alone.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few days passed since your and Joey’s argument and you have not seen each other since. Despite your friends telling you it is valid to feel the way you feel, you couldn’t help but feel guilty about the way you reacted. It was unreasonable to expect that he would not pursue a woman he clearly had feelings for, just because of your opinion of her. You wanted him to be happy, even if it was with someone who was not you.

Still, it hurt. Not only the idea of him being to another woman but also the fact that you certainly ruined your friendship. You did not realize what slipped past your lips before you left the coffee shop that day till Chandler came to your apartment later and informed you of the talk he and Joey just had.

The actor did hear you and did put two and two together “surprisingly quickly”, as Chandler described it, which lead to a big argument between the two. On one hand, Joey thought it was unacceptable that you kept this secret for so long from him, instead of just talking. On the other hand, Chandler thought he was judging you unfairly and was unhappy with the fact that Joey still went ahead with the date with Angela.

It seemed that everyone heard about what happened the same day, as later that night Rachel, Ross, and Phoebe all showed up with some Chinese takeaway and five boxes of ice cream. You appreciate that they all showed up for you, but you could not shake away the tight feeling of anxiousness in your chest. You needed to know how the date went and if Joey and Angela were back together, and the only way to find out was to speak to Monica.

Now, finally being the weekend, both of you were off work and eager to catch up with each other. Sitting on the floor in her living room, you ate homemade biscuit cake and spilled gossip about the events from the past week.

“I would’ve never agreed to go with him if I knew all the details” Monica exclaimed, “He told me they were siblings. And I did believe him, till I saw her tongue in his ear. It was disgusting!”

You choked a laugh and quickly covered your mouth, trying to keep the food inside. Apparently, Joey told Monica Bob was Angela’s brother in order to convince her to go on a double date with them. And while they did manage to break the “happy” couple and keep the pieces to themselves, Monica was far from impressed by Bob’s performance in bed and has decided to not see him anymore. Listening to her detailed story from that night, you could not judge her at all.

You finally swallowed your bite and were about to respond, when the door opened, and the man you least wanted to see came into the kitchen.

“Hey Monica, I know you said to not bother you tonight, but we have no beers left and… Y/N?!”

Joey froze in his place next to the fridge, his eyes dancing between you and the dark-haired woman. Monica has told them to stay away from her flat earlier, but he has just assumed she was having a date over. He definitely did not expect to see you.

“Y/N, um… What are you… uhm.. doing here?”, he shuttered and you had to bite your lip in order to stop a smile from spreading on your face. Flustered Joey was a rare, but cute sight.

You quickly jumped on your feet and grabbed your bag from the sofa, giving an awkward smile.

“I was just about to go, actually”, you turned towards Monica and pulled her into a hug, “I will catch up with you soon. Bye, Mon! Bye, Joey!”

You hurried towards the door without sparing your friends a second glance and were almost down the stairs when you heard heavy steps behind you and felt a hand pulling you back by your wrist. You stumbled back, almost losing your balance, before another hand wrapped around your shoulder in order to stable you.  

You looked up only to come face-to-face with Joey, who was staring at you with wide eyes. He was so close his breaths were hitting your face like a warm breeze and almost closed your eyes, trying to save the feeling of closeness in your mind.

“Y/N…”, he whispered, “Listen, I…”

“Yes?”, you tried to push him to finish a sentence, eager to hear what he has to say. There were a million and one things you wanted to tell him, but how could you after you threw away years of friendship in just a few seconds of pure rage? You were simply not ready to talk about it yet.

But did not stop you from trying to hear what he has to say.

“I made a mistake. I should have never gone out with Angela.”

There was a skip of your hearbeat. Were you dreaming? You were sure you did get up from your bed morning, but then again the only times Joet was saying the words 'mistake' and a girl's name in one sentence it was in only in your imagination.

You furrowed your eyebrows and were ready to argue that the only person in this hallway who made a mistake was you, but before you can start talking, he pressed his finger to your lips, shushing you.

“No, let me finish”, he moved his hand away, “I have… I have prepared this speech for a while.”

He got silent for a minute, moving his eyes away from you and focusing on the floor instead.

“I have been in love with you pretty much since the day we met. Your smile, your wit, your beauty… I have never seen another woman like you. And I know you think I didn’t like you, because I’ve never made a move, but I was so scared… You know? And I was trying to forget you by seeking someone else, but I could never do it. All I ever wanted was you. Which hurt, because I knew that I will never be good enough for you and-“

His words were interrupted by your lips on his. A wave of electricity passed through your whole body and you could swear your feet became jelly. His arms circled your waist, pressing you against his hard chest.

 It lasted only a few seconds before you both pulled away with wide eyes. With uneven breathing, you pressed your forehead against his, enjoying the warmth of his hands on your lower back. A small smile broke on your lips and Joey mirrored it.

“Wanna do it again?”, he asked, giving you a wink.

“Absolutely”, you whispered before catching his mouth with yours again.

[sugarplumz100]

Bnha x Latina reader

Synopsis: just a mini Drabble and hcs about how a relationship would be like with their lovely Latina gf

Disclaimer: I am Latina so the attributes reader has is heavily based on mines so tan skin, dark eyes, frizzy/wavy-hair, slightly chubby/thick. I apologize if these don’t suit you.

————————————————————————

Thinking about these boys who never thought they had a type until they met you. They never thought that being different would be so appealing. They love the way you speak, your accent is like music to their ears even when sometimes it only slips out not too often.

Kirishima, Midoriya, Kaminari, Bakugo

————————————————————————

Kirishima

He thinks you’re so cool, you speak a whole other language and know a whole different culture. What’s not cool about that?!

He thinks you’re so strongly for thriving in a whole different country and culture. He knows it must be difficult but you make it look so easy.

Kirishima has had crushes before but none of them made him feel the way you did, something about your tan skin just makes him blush. He thinks you’re incredibly beautiful.

Kirishima definitely likes watching you style your hair and he loves the smell of the products you use

When you speak to him he likes when you randomly slip in some Spanish words in there. He has no clue what they mean but that’s what context is for!

(Tw: insecurities and colorism)

Kirishima knows what it’s like to feel insecure so when you open up to him about your own insecurities he is there by your side comforting you. He never really thought about how much of a struggle it can be for you to even look different even in your own community. When you come to him about your negative thoughts about your skin tone or accent or anything he gets genuinely hurt that people would make you think and feel this way.

Kirishima thinks you’re absolutely perfect, and doesn’t care if he fully understands because he will always be there for you.

————————————————————————

Midoriya

When he saw you enter his life he honestly is so stoked to ask you questions about where you’re from and what it’s like. Especially what are the hero’s like over there and what your quirk is.

He definitely has several pages in his notebook dedicated to you. (Comes in handy when your feeling homesick and he wants to do something for you)

Midoriya catches onto stuff pretty quick so when you speak Spanish he definitely picks up some words. It comes in handy when speaking to you, he loves hearing you speak.

He does a bunch of research on your home country and your culture, he sometimes gives you facts that you didn’t even know yourself.

He for sure thought he’d never be this attracted to anyone in his life but your tan skin, wavy hair, and dark eyes draw him in. He’s hooked.

He thinks you’re absolutely gorgeous. He definitely loves when you help him with his own hair and he ends up smelling like you.

Midoriya knows what it feels like to be bullied for something you can’t help but he knows he can’t compare his experience to what you’ve gone through. When he hears someone say some discriminatory stuff towards you, I don’t think he’s ever been angrier in his life. He will throw hands (when ppl aren’t looking, he can’t get in trouble).

He always has an open ear and a shoulder for you when you want to open up to him, he won’t force you but loves that you trust him enough to speak about your issues w/ him.

————————————————————————

Kaminari

Sad to say that he’s definitely looked up big tit Latina 😞

He knows he has a thing for Latinas but he never turns it into a weird thing. No weird questions or comments he just likes his Latinas.

He definitely stops Mineta from saying things about you.

He thinks you speaking to him in Spanish is the most romantic thing ever, you can literally call him a dookie head and he’d smooch your hand.

He thinks you’re honestly so cool, he loves hearing your stories about what life was like before coming to Japan. What it was like over there.

Kaminari most likely runs into a lot of weird sticky handed people and he knows about the weird fetishization of Latinas and will genuinely throw hands if anyone comes at you with that weird shit.

Plz make him food from your culture, just nothing too spicy bc he will not survive even a hot Cheeto ☹️

Kaminari is chronically online, so please get him hooked on some Novelas he will high key get soooo invested in them. Even if he doesn’t understand a word, at least show him Jane the Virgin.

Kaminari isn’t the best at comforting, he definitely asks if “you want some water” then stand there patting the person’s back. But when it comes to you he will do his best, especially to comfort you on a topic he will never really understand or experience.

————————————————————————

Bakugo

I know that I said in the drabble that they didn’t know they had a type but I definitely feel like he has a thing for thick/chubby and tan girls. Will he admit it? No because he will never admit to even liking a girl or anyone.

But when he saw you, he thought you were actually so beautiful. Bro was star struck.

He still treats you like everyone else however that doesn’t mean he doesn’t think about you all the time.

You know how there’s that edit of sonic and shadow where sonic is like “why do you want to go to Mexico” BAKUGO IS LITERALLY SHADOW RIGHT THERE

When you both are dating, he hates seeing you speak about the difficulties you’ve experienced. He was a bully and definitely have taken things too far before but he absolutely does not stand racism, he will absolutely go ham on someone if they say some shit to you.

Bakugo is an excellent chef, we all know that but Bakugo will genuinely take time to research recipes from your culture and make them for you. He high key gets hooked. But he loves it more when you cook, you just make it so good and he enjoys to watch.

Bakugo does like to brag to his friends that he bagged a baddie like you and they could never and will probably be single all their lives.

Bakugo loves his Latina gf

————————————————————————

MASTERLIST

[ateezreactionsandscenarios]

Kinktober Day 27 - Size Kink

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Reader

Genre: Smut

CW: Wall sex, size kink, praise.

Word Count: 2234

Summary: Yunho never really noticed the height difference between you two, he knew it was there but it never had an effect on him, until he sees you wearing one of his shirts.

Prompt List               MasterList           Kintktober 2022           Buy me a Coffee

“Hey guys who does this remind you of?” Seonghwa asks showing the image of a cartoon duo with a large height difference that was on his phone, everyone including yourself erupted into fits of laughter but you didn’t stop your eyes rolling at the joke that was clearly aimed at you and Yunho. You were used to the height jokes at this point and you kind of expected it to happen given their sense of humour and their love for teasing everyone, you could never get mad or upset over it, if anything it made you feel more welcomed among your boyfriend's friend group.

You will always remember the day Yunho introduced you to his friends, he told you to stay quiet as you both walked through the door and made sure you stayed hidden behind his back until he said so, which was an easy task due to your height difference. You'll always remember the way his friends cooed at you once you stepped out from behind Yunho, your tiny figure stood in comparison to his giant one, at a quick glance you looked like his baby sister or something and that was the first joke they went to. At the time it made you blush like crazy and made you feel a little embarrassed but as time went on and you got to know the group as a whole better you no longer felt the way you used to, now you were also teasing them about anything and everything and to top it off Yunho had even taught you how to master Wooyoung's laugh, while the others would keel over with laughter Wooyoung would shoot you dagger and make another joke about your small height.

"I bet you need a ladder to even kiss Yunho's chin." Wooyoung quips at you with an exaggerated pout. 

"Without a ladder you'd be lucky if you could reach his shins." Yunho stood to the side innocently, eyeing himself up and down as he pictured you being the height of his shin, but his attention was brought back to you when he realised you and Wooyoung had started to playfully slap each other spurting funny insults back and forth. 

“Ahhh, come here.” Yunho interjects wrapping an arm around your waist and lifting you off the floor pulling you away from his bandmate. 

“See he can even pick you up with one arm you’re that tiny.” Wooyoung cackles his witchy laugh. 

“That’s it I’m not done with you Jung Wooyoung!” You try desperately to scramble your way out of Yunho’s hold. 

“No, no, you’re done we can’t just go beating up people baby...even if it is Wooyoung we’re talking about.” 

“Hey!” Wooyoung screeches offended by the back handed comment. 

“Come on, you know you deserve it 99% of the time.” Wooyoung folds his arms over his chest sulking in defeat thinking over how many times he’d been beaten up by his bandmates for his mouth. 

“She’s still tiny.” He finishes before going off to find comfort in San. Seeing how the coast was clear Yunho set you back down on your feet but still keeping his arm around your waist just so if you decided to go after Wooyoung he’d be able to hold you back as soon as you moved a muscle.

The rest of the time you spent with the group went by as normal, having a quick bite to eat while they were still on break followed by you sitting on the couch at the back of the room flicking your attention between your phone and watching your boyfriend dance to the music that was blaring through the speakers. Even though you’d had a fun night you were relieved when you stepped through the door of your apartment with Yunho in tow, finally being able to have some time to yourselves.

With Yunho in the shower you took the short amount of time you had to sift through his clothes pulling out one of his favourite t-shirts and throwing it on. You looked down at the t-shirt that reached your knees, looking like a dress on you, and thought back to the jokes Wooyoung had made earlier. 

“Huh, guess I am tiny.” You giggled to yourself making your way to the kitchen. The sound of a low chuckle made you jump out of your skin almost spilling your drink everywhere. 

“Shit Yunho, what have I told you about creeping around the place.” You whine. 

“Aww I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He cooed walking over to you and wrapping has arms around your waist. 

“Is this my favourite shirt?” He asks tilting his head as he played with the sleeve. 

“Hmm.” 

“What?” You ask watching as a small smirk grows on Yunho’s face as his eyes wander over you. 

“You know, I never really paid attention when the guys mentioned our height difference, but now I can see it, the way my shirt just hangs off you.” Yunho spoke softly, one hand wandering over you while the other traced gentle circles over the skin of your shoulder the collar had exposed. You could feel your heart start to race, for a moment you thought he’d even be able to hear the way it pounded in your chest. 

“So tiny.” You’d usually swat his arm for the comment but the way his fingertips danced over your skin and the sparkle in his eye darkened you could only give in to it all. 

Yunho’s lips met yours, full of hunger and need, he kissed you like his whole life depended on it pulling you as close to him as possible with a hand on the back of your neck and the other gripping your hip. the height difference made you struggle a little to meet his demands, you need to step back in order to keep your balance but with every step back you took he took one forward until your back hit the wall behind you. Hearing the little “Oomph” that came from you Yunho broke the kiss to check if you were okay but the sight of you looking so small caged between him and the wall sent all rational thinking out the window. 

“So small, you’re like a little doll.” The lust laced in his voice made heat pool at your core and the way he called you a doll just added to it. You rose to the tips of your toes in a desperate attempt to have his lips back on yours but you were only met with another low chuckle. 

“Wooyoung was right, I guess you do need a ladder to kiss me.”

“Shut the fuck up and kiss me.” You hissed. 

“Oh, big attitude for such a tiny girl.” You wanted to scowl at his jokes but the expression was changed before you could even make it, his fingers diving under the shirt to find your soaked core. 

“Is a kiss all you want tiny?” You didn’t even bother responding, head falling back against the wall as your eyes closed losing yourself in the way he ran his fingers over the wet patch of your underwear. He took that as a good enough sign of what you really wanted, removing his hand from you to place both hands on the back of your thighs hoisting you off the floor, the only thing keeping you from falling was the grip he had on your thighs and how his whole body pressed you against the wall stopping you from sliding away. 

Yunho wanted desperately to take his time with you, really rile you up to the point you’re snapping at him, he loved how you looked when you got frustrated, but the way you looked so small in his hold looked even better and it was turning him on more than he wanted it to. He made quick work of pulling his sweatpants down just enough to free himself and you couldn’t help but stare at him wide eyed watching how he held you in place with one arm with such ease. Moving your underwear to the side he lined himself up at your core but stopped just before he did anything else, looking you in the eye with a cautious look. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I usually prep you before hand but baby I can’t wait anymore, I’m just worried I’ll hurt you.” You swooned over how caring he was, the man was practically dying from lust yet he still cared. 

“I’ll be fine don’t worry about me.” He sighed a little not really believing what you said but he didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to cope so he had to take your word. 

“Promise me you’ll say something if anything is wrong, even if it’s something small?” Cupping his face you looked him dead in the eye. 

“I promise, just please fuck me.” He didn’t need to be told twice, easing himself into you he kept a sharp eye on your face looking for any warning signs. Halfway into you, you scrunched your nose a little as the slight pain from him stretching you out hit you and just from that small movement he stopped. 

“Are you okay?” You nod a little more eager than you planned to. 

“Please don’t stop.” Once again taking your word he carried on until he was fully sheathed inside you. The feeling of your walls wrapped around him was enough to take the edge off a bit, enough for him to let you have a moment to adjust.

With his forehead resting against yours you combed your fingers through his hair comforting him, telling him you were fine, but now it was you who was getting restless. You tried your best to roll your hips against his but to no avail, you just hoped your small movements were enough for him to get the hint. 

“Are you sure?” 

“More than anything.” He took his time to start with, slowly pulling out to then slowly slide back in, you could feel every vein in his cock glide against your walls, the sensation dragging small moans out of you. The pain was non existent at this point, all you felt was burning pleasure as Yunho slowly fucked into you. 

“Please...faster.” You could sense he was going to ask you again if you were sure so you shot him a look that answered the question before it even left his lips. His smirk growing again Yunho gradually picked up his pace until he had you pulling the hair at the top of his neck, head hanging down as your mouth hung open with silent moans. 

“My tiny girl, doing so well taking all of me like this.” Yunho growled into your ear. Everything in this moment had your head spinning, from the way Yunho rutted into you down to the way his fingers gripped into the flesh of your thighs, you were seeing stars already from how good you felt, it was like everything in your vision came to a blur, all except Yunho. 

You could feel your high was approaching and as much as you wanted to hold it back the way Yunho hit your sweet spot over and over and how he grazed over your clit with every thrust you knew it would be impossible, but by the way his breathing became heavier and his eyes screwed shut you could tell he was just as close as you were and you really couldn’t blame him, he was dying of need before he even did anything. Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging in as you awaited your orgasm to wash over you which soon came, ripping though you as you shakily cried out his name and tried to keep yourself upright not to flop your whole weight onto him. Your walls clamping down on his cock like a vice had Yunho’s movements stuttering, he was determined to help you ride out your own orgasm before getting to his own, even if it meant using everything he had to will it away for a moment or two. 

The blurriness in your vision cleared and you were left with the stunning view of Yunho, sweat beading on his forehead and his cheeks a beautiful shade of pink.  Your senses came around just in time for you to fully witness the low breathy moan that fell from his lips as his orgasm hit, his hips stuttering against yours as he tried his best to ride it out needing to savour the feeling before he got overly sensitive. It was like his body crumpled in on itself as he started to come down from his high, his head lazily resting on your shoulder as you could feel the warm breath of his pants fan over your skin. You kept him close to you during that time, stroking the hair at the back of his head as he started to come around.

“You okay down there?” You coo. A low grumble was all you could hear before Yunho brought his head back up. He places a small kiss on your nose before gently setting you back onto your feet but still keeping his arms wrapped around you. 

“If i get this reaction out of you every time I wear one of your shirts then I’ll just have to keep stealing them.” You joke making Yunho laugh. 

“I swear you’re going to be the death of me.”

Tag list:   @kpopcrossworlds​​ @kpopjust4u​​   @whatudowhennooneseesyou​​​   @8tinytings​​   @jenotation​​​ @grim-adventures58​​​  ​   @owjohny​​​   @ker1​​​   @hellomingi  @ate-ez  @steponmesannie​   @azeret98​​​   @queenwiinks​  @wubbster​​​ @eternalhongshine​  @sansluvr​  @tinkerbell460

[slashers-and-rats]

Do you think... You could do headcanons for the slashers X a mute/nonverbal reader? Like just how they'd react to that & how they'd adjust to alternate forms of communication and stuff like that (Which slashers are up to you, but if Brahms and the Sinclairs were there I'd start squealing and giggling fr)

rat chat: i will provide but i don’t like bo so I’m leaving him out he’s a BITCH

Slashers with a Non-Verbal GN!Reader

featured slashers: brahms heelshire, vincent sinclair, lester sinclair

Brahms Heelshire :

i think brahms would be a little perplexed at first, especially since you’d start out as the house nanny. one of the rules is to talk to the doll, but you find ways around it. you hum along to music when you feel up for it, and usually leave little letters near the doll. sometimes, during lesson time, you even throw in a little bit about sign language, and pretend to teach the doll new words.

when you first meet brahms outside of the walls, he’s quick to show off the things you taught him while he was watching you. he’s kept all your letters, tucking them away in his pockets so he can carry them around with him, and he poorly mimics the few signs you’ve been showing off. it’s a bit heart warming, despite the odd situation you’re in.

once you two have really settled in with each other, he gets into more of a groove with things. he finds he likes the silence. it’s not like you’re not around, you still amuse him in other ways. he likes that he gets to be the chatty one. he practices reading aloud with you, and you show him how to sign some simple sentences, and you continue writing him little letters that he collects. he even finds an old music box to stick them all inside. he keeps them very safe. they remind him of you.

i don’t really think it would effect him all that much. as long as you give him love and affection in your own ways, he’d be so happy. i think his favourite thing would be making you make other noises. y’know, not words. like he’ll sneak up on you and scare you, and hear you yelp, and he’ll snicker to himself. or when you two are alone, and you make a cute noise, he melts a bit. it’s the little things for him.

Vincent Sinclair :

in my head, vincent is selectively mute, so he’s pretty much immediately on board with you being non-verbal. there’s no questions, there’s no needing to get used to it, you two are just two quiet people. he finds it comforting, if anything, since he’s able to so easily relate to you.

you guys pass notes to each other like you’re exchanging secret messages. it’s especially amusing when you’re around the other brothers, and you’ll slide vincent a note, making the other brothers upset they don’t get to know what you guys are talking about. vincent always keeps these very private. communicating with you is a privilege, not a right, and if you choose to be selective about who you talk to, he is not going to let someone else change that.

you guys learn sign language together. bo never saw the use in teaching vincent, and his mum had tried but he stopped practicing when she had passed. so, he was very rusty, and you had similar experiences. you had tried to learn, but never found much use since the people around you didn’t know anyways. so, when you two met, it became a small hobby between the two of you. you explored the town, found a library with some books on asl, and pretty quickly you two were practicing in his little workshop whenever you had a chance.

i think a lot of your comfort with each other comes from the fact that you guys don’t need words to communicate. you can tell without needing to be told when either of you are upset or frustrated, and it’s easy to see when you’re happy. vincent has memorized all the little details of your expressions to know exactly how you’re feeling, even if you’re not open about it. it’s harder for you, since he wears the mask, but you’ve learned his body posture is a pretty big give away on how he’s feeling. you two just know each other really well.

Lester Sinclair :

lester is pretty used to the idea of people being non-verbal cuz of his brother, so it doesn’t take him as much time as others to get used to it, but there are still some bumps. i think, since he’s such a funny little dude, he finds your silence kinda hard to judge sometimes. he’ll tell a joke, or tell a silly story, and you’ll just crack a smile. he never truly knows what you’re thinking, since you never tell him, and so it takes him awhile to get used to being comfortable with just not always knowing.

i think he’d be someone who immediately does everything he can to be better about it tho. deep down, he really cares. he cares about his family, he cares about the town, he cares about you- he puts as much effort into those things as possible. so, he’ll put in the effort to learn ASL behind your back, and surprise you with it on a date or something.

he likes talking to you, and getting good at knowing what you’d say if you did speak. his favourite joke is to make up a conversation between you both and play both parts, and whenever he says something in your voice, he waits for you to nod or shake your head so he knows if he’s right in his assumption. he’s usually pretty accurate tho, since he watches you a lot.

he really does watch you A LOT. since you guys can’t have conversations about your interests, he just finds other ways to figure it out. while you’re reading, he’ll peek over your shoulder. he’s always a page behind tho, but he still gets an understanding of what you like. when you’re riding with him in his truck, he lets you pick the music, and notes down every song you repeat. when you guys are eating, he watches your face to see what you like and don’t like. he just likes learning about you, even if it isn’t as easy as learning about others.

[reelovesfictionalmen]

John Price SFW headcanons.

I wasn't happy with my nsfw ones tbh. (they're hidden behind the mature flag btw) So here are some sfw ones that I'm VERY happy with.

I always write with female reader in mind but these can be taken GN.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) He's pretty affectionate when he's off duty. If you both work together he will give lingering touches to your shoulder in public. Sneaking a kiss in his office at the end of the day.

Forehead kisses and nuzzling the top of your head! John is a tall bugger so chances are he has easy access to your head and he makes use of it. Pair those with him pressing you into his chest with a warm tight hug.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) You probably met on the job when you were both younger. You both share the opinion that sometimes you have to do bad things to do the RIGHT thing. You both understand that your jobs make you both the villain in someone elses story and offer each other comfort when the reality of that weighs a little heavy on you.

He's a loyal friend. He'll have your back even if the rest of the world turns it's back on you. Is a Dad/Mom friend. Are you keeping up a proper diet? Have you been excersising enough? Will threaten to strap you to a bed when you're unwell if you push yourself too hard.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) He loves to cuddle off duty. The weight of you pressed against him brings him great comfort and relaxation. He likes to lay with his head on your chest with his arm around your waist while you play with his hair. He damn near purrrrsss like a kitty. He likes having you sit sideways in his lap with your head tucked into his neck while he strokes your back. It's even better if you fall asleep there, he'll wrap both his arms around you, squeeze you and sigh contentedly.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) Hates disorder and filth. Is fine with a house that looks lived in. But none of that dirty laundry in a big pile, a sink full of dishes or a dirty floor. Makes the bed religiously every morning. He used to want to settle down and have a family but he knows people in his line of work rarely get that chance and if they do they're hardly ever home and he doesn't want a life like that. Would probably get into a relationship with someone in the military too.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) He's a loyal man, so cheaters get dumped as soon as caught. He wouldn't mince words. A simple "this isn't working anymore"

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) It'd take a long time for him to get to that stage. There can be weeks when all you can do is send a few text messages to each other. Getting to the stage where he wants to marry anyone would take a few years imo.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) He can and will manhandle you if you want him to. He's pretty gentle with his lovers. The juxtaposition of his huge, rough and scarred body and him being gentle with you isn't lost on him nor you. Will 10000% pick you up and throw you over his shoulder for silly and serious reasons. You two had an argument and you're being childish and refusing to get in the car, he will pick you up and put you in the fucking car. You're not walking home in the dark.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) Loves when you hug him from behind and nuzzle into his back. Secretly enjoys when you reach round and grab his pecs when you're hugging him that way. If you work together he struggles to keep himself from embracing you whenever he sees you around base. Always finds you at the end of the day to hide away for some hugs and kisses.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) It took a year and a half at least for him to say it to you. He had felt it for a while but wasn't sure how your relationship would work out.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) Doesn't really get too jealous. He gets annoyed if someone hits on you. Usually grumbles and glares at the person.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) The king of forehead kisses. It's his drug. When you guys are making out he uses a lot of tongue, it's usually slow and sensual. Drunk whiskey flavored kisses are sloppy and hard. It's like he is trying to eat your face lol.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) He's good with kids. He's the kind of man who will have several kids hanging off his arms and lifting them off the ground while they giggle at how strong he is. Finds the loud squealing of especially young ones to be a bit hard on his head, will get a headache if exposed to it for long periods.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) Will push his morning run back a few hours just to lounge in bed with you and snuggle. Likes to have his morning run with you if you're into that. If you're also in the military he wont let you escape the morning run either. Breakfasts are quiet usually watching the morning news while eating oatmeal and having a hot cup of whatever it is you both like.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) Likes to watch tv on the same couch as you. You don't have to cuddle but if you are on another couch he doesn't like it. Will likely pull you into his lap before the end of the night. Likes pillow talk.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) If you're dating him, you've known him for years and were likely friends for a few years before dating, so you know a fair bit about him.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) Lies and betrayal are things that bring him a lot of anger. Would rather you be honest than hide something from him. Might raise his voice in an argument but never yell.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) Remembers a lot, most things. Even silly things. He's got a good brain, works an intense job. He has to remember a lot. Sometimes he might forget simple things after a grueling mission

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?) When he surprises you with little gifts. Flowers he picked from the side of the road while on a run/walk. Tasty things he saw in a bakery he walked past. your giddy excitement when he tells you to close your eyes and not to peek before he gives the things to you.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) He's protective to a point. I'm kinda writing this from the POV that you're in the military too. He knows you can and will kick ass and defend yourself. He mostly shows his protective side when you're out and about doing civilian things. Likes to keep you close, his hand in yours or holding you close to his side. He knows it's silly but he feels comfort walking on the side of the footpath closest to the road.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) Has special dates marked on a calendar. Chances are you guys wont be together on the special dates because of work but will always find time to at the VERY LEAST send you a text message telling you how much he loves you and why. Will plan dinner dates to make up for it when he's off duty :)

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) Leaving cigar butts and dirty ashtrays around.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) Not overly. He likes to keep his beard groomed well. Sometimes complains about how fast it's going grey. Just tell him you love aging with him.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?) If you had been together a few years it would take him a long time to stop feeling like theres a hole in his chest. If you've not been together very long he wont really mind. Might miss the company a little but it wont break him.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.) He's a mums boy. I read his nickname is JJ and that his dad is also named John. So he's John Michael Price Junior. Might have been someones headcanon but I'm running with it. Basically he loves his mum a lot. Her love fuels him. When looking for a partner he unconsciously looks for someone who loves like she does.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) People who are cruel to others and those who lie. He values honesty and kindness where it's due.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?) Lays on his back starfished taking up half the bed. Snores but you have earplugs to make sure it doesn't keep you awake :)

[d1xonss]

Desert Rose

Chapter 22 ~ Scars

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 2

✧ Word Count : 5.4k

⚠️ TW : Mentions of attempted suicide & SH scars

In this chapter ~ When Rick and Shane decide to take Randall away from their people to drop him and fend for himself, things seem to go wrong on the other end. Beth becomes suicidal after witnessing the death of her mother just days prior, leading Rose to comfort her in a time of need. However, the heaviness that followed was a lot more than she anticipated, though luckily for her, Daryl helps her pick up the pieces.

It had been about two days since they brought Randall back, and he eventually woke from his unconscious state. Since then the place had been chaotic.

The group was constantly going around and around in circles about what to do with this guy, so much so it gave me a pounding headache. Because most of the time the arguments wouldn't go anywhere. People would just repeat the same things that had already been said, causing us to feel stuck in the same place as no one really had a solution.

Until Rick just made the final decision to do what he wanted to since the beginning, take the man far away from the farm and drop him off on his own.

So now that the man was finally able to walk and balance decently on his own, Rick and Shane took a car to drive him out in the middle of nowhere, leaving the rest of us nervously waiting for their return. Everyone eventually seemed to agree with the plan despite the possibilities of him coming back, but it's not like we had much of a choice.

I for one was trying to keep myself busy all day, helping Lori with some laundry, staying to keep watch on top of the RV, I even made a run into town earlier that morning with Glenn. We had found a few different stores in a small part of town that had some useful things in them. But there was a little something else I found that I was extra excited about besides the food and supplies.

When we walked into the last store, I saw it. The perfect thing to give to Daryl. I had never gotten him something in return when he gave me my sketchbook and watercolors, but now I had something that I thought would suit him quite nicely. It was a black leather vest with stitched angel wings on the back.

In my mind, I hoped he would really like it and I had planned to give it to him later that night. Once we all knew Randall was taken care of.

Currently I was washing dishes with Maggie, occasionally talking about random things, trying to get our minds off of what was happening today. I could easily tell she hadn't stopped thinking about it since it happened either, the anxious feeling of the man somehow making his way back to her own home couldn't have been easy to deal with. But I had hope that everything would work out just fine and things would begin to move smoothly again.

She wordlessly handed me the last plate that was in the sink, water dripping off of the edges as I took the towel in my hands to dry it. She leaned her back up against the counter as she stared down at her shoes, the sound of me stacking the final plate in the cabinet brining her out of her thoughts as she glanced back up to me nervously.

"Can I talk to you about something... more serious?" she asked.

I only nodded my head as I listened, throwing the towel back down on the counter to give her my full attention as I copied her stance.

"Well, Glenn's been avoiding me lately, and he told me that when he was out there trying to fight those guys, he froze at one point. He was saying that since I told him I loved him... that's the reason he froze, and my dad had to save his life. He said he was afraid to die... thinking about how it would affect me." she finished almost a little shamefully.

My eyes widened a bit as I was a little thrown off and not expecting that, but I was still quick to respond and reassure her. "Listen, I know that it might not feel too great that he's avoiding you, but the truth is he loves you too. I don't think he should be avoiding you, I think he should be cherishing these moments he has with you, but y'know he's a guy." I pointed out, giving her a look she would be able to read.

She laughed quietly to herself as she nodded her head in silent understanding, "But he'll come around, I promise. You just gotta give him a little time." I finished.

She pressed her lips together and nodded gratefully, "Thank you." she said, "I feel like I can really talk to you ya know? I'm glad you're here."

I smiled, "Yeah, me too." I spoke, opening my mouth again before closing it back up quickly. My dumbass almost slipped up and said something about how I was glad that I stayed, but I bit my tongue before it could come out.

My eyes then absentmindedly panned over towards the tray of food that Maggie had set off to the side a few minutes ago, "Is this for Beth?" I asked, quickly changing the subject.

She followed my gaze and nodded, "Oh yeah, I was about to bring that up to her when we were done."

"Oh I got it, I was going to check on her soon anyways." I said, moving towards the counter.

She smiled gratefully, "Thank you. You know Beth really likes you. Ever since you taught her how to play those few songs on the guitar it's really all she can really talk about. I think seeing you would cheer her up."

"Yeah, I had fun teaching her, I'm sure she'll be ready to learn some more in no time." I reassured her.

Maggie nodded her head and I fully picked up the tray in my hands, walking out of the kitchen to head upstairs and into Beth's room. It seemed quieter than usual as I made my way up the familiar stairs, something seeming a little off. But I mostly blamed it on Rick and Shane's absence, still not here even after leaving early this morning.

For some reason the whole thing left a bad taste in my mouth, sensing something might go wrong out there, not necessarily with Randall. But with each other.

After what happened with the barn and the whole fight that came after that, the two had been at each other's throats ever since. It was way far off from how they used to act around each other, seeming more like brothers than friends. But something just clicked and now they almost acted like strangers. Though it was none of my business, I still noticed.

Pushing my thoughts aside, I made it up the long staircase and lingered by the closed door, knocking softly a few times before I entered. To my surprise, I heard her soft voice from the other side invite me in, causing me to open the door as best as I could with the tray still balanced in my hands.

"Hey hon, it's just me." I announced as I walked in, "I brought you something to eat, and to see how you were doing."

Her gaze panned over towards me, and my breath hitched slightly in the back of my throat. I knew that familiar look all too well. I tried to not let it affect me too much in case I was wrong, but I had a feeling I wasn't. She looked utterly broken and depressed, much more pale with bags under her eyes from the lack of sleep. She had just lost her mom, I came to find out that she was the walker Beth ran to after everything happened. I'm pretty sure I couldn't have felt worse for her after finding that out, now more than ever seeing her like this.

"You can just set it down here." she said, pointing over towards the side table next to her bed.

I did what she asked and stood there for a moment as she stared at the sandwich on the plate, "Do you want me to stay, or do you want some space."

"Some space. If that's okay?" she asked.

"Yeah of course," I said immediately, "Just...call if you need anything." I finished with a smile.

She barely gave me a noticeable nod before I turned on my heel to give her some time alone, but I couldn't just brush off the vibe I picked up. It again could be nothing, just being paranoid over something I was reading too much into. But in case I was right, I didn't just want to keep it to myself.

I ventured back down the stairs, peeking in the kitchen again to see if Maggie was around, but the room was empty by the time I got back. A sigh left my lips as I turned back around to try and find her, but I managed to spot Lori entering the house right as I was about to come down the hall.

"Oh hey, Lori?" I called out as I approached her.

She turned towards me with a small smile, hanging up her jacket, "Hey, what's up?" she asked.

My eyes glanced back up the stairs momentarily before turning back to her, slightly lowering my voice, "I just...I'm worried about Beth. She just seems a little off and I was going to find Maggie to let her know but-"

"I can tell her." she offered with a nod, "I'll keep an eye on her until she comes back."

"Yeah that would be great." I spoke gratefully, "She's just up in her room and wanted to be left alone... but I don't know I think Maggie should know."

"Absolutely." she agreed instantly, "I'll tell her the next time I see her, okay?"

I nodded, "Thanks." I said with a small smile, passing her as I moved to exit the house.

I felt a little bad not telling Maggie about it myself, but knowing someone else would keep an eye out for Beth gave me a little piece of mind. I didn't want to hover over her or pick up any overprotective instincts even though in the back of my mind I knew it was inevitable. I just wanted her to be okay.

The rest of the day passed by slowly, leaving nothing much to do around camp and everyone simply doing their own thing for the day. After not being able to find Maggie, looping around the farm a couple of times, I assumed she was back in the house at this point. So I took the much needed time to myself.

A few hours passed by with me just laying down in the yellow tent trying to relax as best as I could. Spending most of the time reading the book Daryl had stolen from me when he got hurt and it actually turned out to be pretty good, only drawing me more in with each chapter. The details were amazing and I loved the plot. I didn't plan on giving this back to him anytime soon.

I hadn't seen him for most of the day because he decided to go out hunting fairly early in the morning, leaving camp before the sun even rose. He offered for me to come with him, but I declined as I needed to go out on that run with Glenn to get some things for myself, and he understood. I just hoped he would be back soon along with Rick and Shane who continued to be gone for far too long.

Damn it was like everyone was missing today.

After closing in on the last chapter, I finally shut the book after what felt like forever, blinking my eyes a few times to adjust them. For hours I had been reading tiny words on these pages and I felt that it was time for a break. So, I placed the book back in my bag, standing to leave the tent and walked outside a little to stretch my legs, leaning from side to side as I was hunched over for many hours.

I glanced around the small camp to see who was around, before my eyes suddenly stopped on Carl sitting by the RV. He seemed distant as he glanced at the comic book sitting in his lap, barely reading over the pages as he sloppily flipped through them. A pain in my chest suddenly dispersed upon seeing him like this, knowing that he hadn't been the same since he witnessed Sophia coming out of that barn. But who could blame him?

He was grieving in his own way, separating himself from the others as much as he could for just some time alone to think. I hadn't had a proper conversation with him since that day everything went wrong, keeping my distance as that's what he seemed to wish for. But I shook my head as I began to walk over towards him, wanting to talk to him for the first time in what felt like too long.

"Hey kid." I greeted him.

He glanced up and gave me a slight smile, "Hey." he spoke as he closed the book to give me his attention.

I moved to take a seat next to him on the ground, "So, what're you reading? Tell me about it." I said.

His eyes lit up "Really?"

I chuckled a little, "Yeah, why not. Who's this?" I asked, pointing to some sort of superhero.

His excited demeanor never faltered as he went on to tell me everything that was happening in this comic book. Who all of the characters were, what their powers were, and what their mission was. This was one of the first times I had seen him get excited about something in what felt like forever, and it warmed my heart at just the sight. He began to slowly open up a little bit more the longer we talked, changing the subject a few times to talk about his favorite cartoons he used to watch before the outbreak.

I enjoyed watching him smile, it felt like it had been some time since it last happened, and I was just glad to distract him even if it was only for a few minutes. A kid his age should never have to go through half the shit that's he's been through, though he was tougher than I ever could've imagined.

After we finished talking for a while, I left him to read it in peace after that. I wanted him to have his space too, and I never wanted to overstep any boundaries, especially when it came time to grieve someone.

I found myself heading back into the house to grab something to eat afterwards, but as soon as I walked in, I jumped a little as I suddenly heard screaming from just up the stairs. I didn't hesitate for a second before I was rushing up the steps two at a time, jogging into Beth's room to see Maggie and Lori were yelling and banging on the bathroom door.

"Woah, woah, what's happening?" I asked.

Maggie's head whipped around to face me, "Beth...Beth tried to kill herself and now locked herself in the bathroom, I heard glass." she spoke quickly, continuing to pound on the door, pleading with Beth to listen.

Panic flooded through me. She tried to kill herself? And was now attempting again? I stood in the doorway frozen in shock as I felt as though I couldn't move a thing. But then my eyes quickly darted around the room, looking for something to get the door open. Lori had moved to search the room for the key, frantically looking through her drawers as fast as she could, but I spotted a metal rod sitting in the corner of the room. I didn't think twice about it as I stepped forward, picking it up in my hands before telling Maggie to move out of the way quickly and she jumped back.

Sticking the thing in between the lock and the wood, I pushed on it as hard as I could in an attempt to pry it open. There was a sudden crack after a few seconds before the wooden door suddenly flew open, revealing Beth standing there with her hand over her wrist, blood pouring out of it. Her head whipped over to us frantically as soon as she heard the door breaking, tears streaming down her face and her heart no doubt racing out of her chest.

"I'm sorry." she sobbed, and Maggie didn't waste anymore time as she went in to pull her close.

I ditched the metal rod in my hands, stepping inside the bathroom only to realize how severe the cut actually was. Blood was now running down her arm and onto the tile floor, the amount of pressure she was putting on it clearly wasn't enough. I quickly placed my hand on Maggie's shoulder to get her attention, gently pulling Beth out of her hold.

"Go get your dad, he's going to need to stitch this up." I said, trying to hide the panic in my tone.

But she caught it even though it was disguised, quickly nodding her head as she left right along with Lori to try and find Hershel as fast as possible. Beth looked up at me and opened her mouth to speak, but only a sob came out as she ducked her head, causing me to immediately shush her and bring her into a hug.

We all had different experiences with mental health, everything was dealt with differently, but I somewhat knew how she was feeling. I had been in her position not that long ago and seeing her standing there when I first opened the door, brought all the memories back, so fast it was like a tidal wave. The whole situation nearly knocked me off my goddamn feet.

After standing in place for a while as she sobbed into my arms, I slowly started to bring her back into her attached bedroom, sitting her down on the bed so she could try to relax and focus on her breathing as she put more pressure on the wound.

Hershel frantically came in soon after that with a needle and thread and started to stitch his daughter up as she cried. I stayed by her side the whole time, holding her hand to offer her some type of comfort I was able to give. Though it was heartbreaking hearing her cry, and even more heartbreaking seeing Hershel try to pull himself together as he worked. I tried to think over the right things to say to her when the time came, but I felt that there was no right thing to say. What could you say after something like this?

After Hershel was done he said he would talk to her later and soon left the room in a hurry to no doubt let a few tears fall, leaving Beth and I alone again. She slowly laid down on the mattress after he left, her cheeks still stained with tears as she tried to calm herself down, with me rubbing her back towards the end of the bed. The silence slowly becoming deafening.

"Are you mad at me too?" she suddenly asked. I could feel the pain in her voice.

I whipped my head to look at her, "Oh my God honey no, I'm not mad at all. And neither is Maggie or your dad, they just love you so much. Seeing you like this... it hurts them, you know?"

She sighed as she shook her head, "I just feel so alone in this, like they don't even understand. Nobody does." she muttered.

"You're not alone." I said with a shake of my head, "I can promise you that."

"How do you know?" she was quick to ask.

My breath caught in my throat as I thought back to my own experiences, so different, yet so similar to hers. I debated in my head for a long time in the dead silence, letting the seconds turn into minutes if I really wanted to do this. I had never dared to show anyone the things I kept only to myself, ashamed of what others might think if they caught a glimpse of them. It made me feel vulnerable, weak, and that was something that I hated, but I needed to show her that someone here understood what she was going through.

So with a heavy breath, I hesitantly lifted my shirt sleeves to reveal my deeper scars on my wrists, trying to ignore the twist in my stomach as the cold air hit my arms. Her eyes followed my movements, immediately seeing them and I watched her eyes get wider with each passing second.

"I know." I assured after the agonizing silence.

She shook her head in disbelief, "You-"

"Yeah." I interrupted her, almost like I didn't want to hear her say it.

"It was uh... at a really hard time in my life. I won't bore you with the details but someone in my life was making me feel worthless. He told me that so much I started to believe it myself, and I got really depressed. Eventually I thought that... doing this was my only option so I... tried. But I regretted it as soon as I saw the blood, kind of like you did. So I called for help and I... saved my own life that night."

She stared at me so intently, listening carefully to every word that came out of my mouth. I knew I could trust her to not say anything to anyone, just as she knew I wouldn't judge her for trying to do what she did. It was like a silent agreement that we had at that moment.

"Look, my point is I don't know exactly how you feel and I never will. But we were in the same boat you and me, we're fighters and I know you'll make it through this. You just proved that today when you stopped yourself." I said.

Her eyes refilled with tears as she looked at me with utter sadness, "I didn't realize...I'm so sorry Rose."

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, not wanting her to see me cry as I smiled sadly, "I'm sorry too." I whispered before bringing her into a hug.

She clung onto me tightly as the new fresh tears fell down her face, sobs erupting from her lungs. All the emotions mixed with the exhaustion was truly taking a toll on her body, but I was prepared to hold her for as long as she needed. Just like I wished someone had held me.

Once her cries quieted down after a few minutes, I spoke quietly to her, "I am always going to be here for you, okay? You're never alone in this. Never." I assured as I held her tighter.

"Okay." she whispered, hiccups building in the back of her throat.

Although I couldn't see her face as she spoke, I knew now that she believed me, and knew that I wasn't going anywhere. Hell, I would be at her beck and call always if that meant saving her life. I somehow knew then that everything would be okay, maybe not at first but it would be. Beth was strong and I could see that so clearly, even if she couldn't see it yet herself, she was going to be okay.

After I knew for sure she was okay for the night, her assuring me multiple times, I said my goodbyes and walked out to send Hershel back in the room to talk to her. Nothing could've probably prepared him for the things that man had to do today, but I just couldn't get over the look on his face. It was like he had seen a ghost when he first burst into the room, and it was devastating.

After I walked out of her bedroom, I found him just sitting a few feet away outside, telling him he was good to head in, but before I could walk away he caught my arm to stop me.

"Thank you for...comforting her at a time like this. I just... I don't know what to say to her once I go in there. But just know I appreciate you Rose, thank you so much." he said with visible tears in his eyes.

I took his hand off my arm, squeezing it tightly, "Just be there for her, okay? Let her do the talking first. And it's no problem, I care about all of you so much."

He nodded and then suddenly did something I didn't expect, he hugged me. I sighed to myself before I was soon hugging him back for a few moments before letting him go after a few short seconds so he could talk to Beth. After watching him go, shutting the door behind him to leave only a crack, I made a beeline down the stairs and out of the house. I practically jogged all the way back to the tent, tears threatening to fall from my eyes as I desperately tried to keep myself together. But the moment I zipped up the entrance, finding myself completely alone, I let it all out.

Seeing Beth like that was too much for me, but I wouldn't dare let her know that. She needed me and I was going to be there for her, however it just brought back painful memories from my past that I so desperately tried to avoid. I just sat there and cried quietly as I hugged my arms around my middle from the slight chill in the night. Rethinking everything that had happened today, I couldn't help but wonder how it could've been different if I had just stayed inside that damn house. How I could've prevented something from happening if I had tracked down Maggie myself. Maybe things could've been different.

But suddenly the zipper of the tent was being opened quickly, and Daryl was making his way inside as he finally returned from his hunt. I quickly looked away from him while frantically wiping my eyes, knowing he hadn't heard me crying, not even noticing I was in here at all at first from how silent I had been.

"Oh, hey." he greeted once his eyes raised from his boots, "I was bout to look for-" he then stopped himself noticing immediately the state that I was in, "Rose? Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, coming to kneel in front of me.

I tried to pull myself together, "Nothing, I'm okay." I said as I looked to the side, basically anywhere but his face.

I couldn't look at him, I just knew I would break down if I did. I could already feel the new tears building up in my eyes as I felt him gently take my hand in his and rub the back of it lightly with his thumb.

"Talk to me." he said in a soft voice.

I didn't say anything. I didn't even know where to start, today had just been painfully long and all I wanted was to go to sleep so it would be finally over. It seemed like we couldn't catch a break. And as if it couldn't get any worse, I saw out of the corner of my eye Daryl's eyes were staring down at my wrist as he still held my hand in his. I froze with widened eyes and suddenly didn't know what to do, I couldn't move.

"Rose." he said softly while looking at the scar, moving to take my opposite hand to see the other. But I quickly pulled both hands away from his grasp so he couldn't get a better look.

"Damn it." I cursed silently as I pulled my sleeves back down harshly, wiping my eyes with them as I tried desperately not to look him in the eye. I didn't know what I wanted, for him to leave or stay, when all I could feel now was just utter embarrassment.

He made no sudden movements for what felt like years, until I felt his finger and thumb gripping my chin gently to lift my head to look at him. His thumb rubbed softly on my chin as I finally brought myself to look into his blue eyes.

"Talk to me." he repeated.

That's when the sudden floodgate broke loose, my tears only falling more freely than they did before. I couldn't stop them, there was just so many emotions I was feeling about everything, and I couldn't get all of it out before he came back, so now he was witnessing it firsthand. I felt mortified about crying so much lately, it seemed like all I was able to do, like it was all I was good for these days.

His hands then moved to my cheeks when it began to be too much, his thumbs gently wiping my fresh tears away. He leaned in close to place a soft kiss on my forehead, waiting patiently for me to start talking whenever I was ready. And I did.

I told him what happened with Beth and how she tried to end her life. I ranted about how I should've been there sooner and not just sitting in the tent all damn day, but I didn't know. I should've known, the feeling I had alone was a good enough reason to stay close, but I truly didn't know. Regrettably I also when on to explain my situation as well, seeing as I couldn't really avoid it because of what he barely saw through the darkness.

I told him almost every bit of the conversation I had with her, though it made me the most uncomfortable, I didn't want her to believe she was alone in this. Informing him also that seeing her like that brought back too many memories for me and that's why I had been crying in the first place...and then we sat there. There was just silence. He didn't try to talk one time. He just listened.

After seeing that I was done, not having anything else to say, he finally broke the silence, "Yer one of the greatest people to walk on this earth, ya know that?" he asked.

I was slightly taken aback at what he said, a scoff leaving my lips as I shook my head, "Believe me I'm far from that." I responded, no longer looking at him.

"Look at me." he said softly.

I slowly tore my eyes away from my hands and met his again, almost burning under his gaze. I almost couldn't believe how much I was cowering away from someone I truly trusted, but then again this conversation was one that I didn't want to be having with anyone.

"What ya did for Beth, bein there for her, that's the best thing you can do for her. And showin her she isn't alone through all this, it's amazin what ya did for her today...now about you..." he trailed off, looking back down at my hands sitting in my lap.

He then gently grabbed both of them and slowly rolled both of my sleeves all the way up to the middle of my arm. I tensed when he did this and he noticed, but yet he didn't stop. He raised my left wrist up to his lips, and began to leave soft kisses over every inch of the scar. Then moved to my right wrist and did the same exact thing, leaving goosebumps on my skin, but a warmth in my heart.

He held both of my hands tightly once he was done, looking back up at me as he spoke again, "Yer so strong, and ya never have to be ashamed of these. They're just marks on yer body to show that ya made it, even when things were really hard. I get yer ashamed of showin em, but you don't have to be. Not with me." he finished.

I stared at the man in front of me in awe. Nobody had ever spoken so beautifully about me like this before. Nobody had ever complimented the thing that I was the most insecure about. No one had ever kissed the places I had once hurt so badly. Nobody except him.

Tears built up back in my eyes, but this time for a completely different reason. I was quick to take my hands out of his, wrapping my arms around his shoulders to bring him into a hug as I felt I could finally breathe.

I heard what sounded like a sigh of relief come from him as he quickly wrapped his arms around me as well. Maybe he was worried about what he had said upset me, but it did quite the opposite. It made me relieved. Relieved that someone cared enough for me to not only see the good side of me but also the bad.

But with the way he spoke, and the way he was hugging me back so tightly, it almost made me question if he knew the feeling as well. The feeling of being ashamed or insecure because of something marking you from your past. And maybe he did. But I wasn't going to ask. I would wait until he felt comfortable enough to tell me, like he did for me just moments ago.

~ Thanks for reading!

[you-can-call-me-fangs]

Maybe some nsfw hc with angel or aki form chainsaw man? I haven’t seen you write anything for them so idk if you do write for aki and angel. Top Male reader pls.

-🧀anon

Sorry this took so long to get around to besides me just being lazy as shit it also takes me like three days to make a post after I'm done doing drafts, re-reading, finalising, etc. but whatevs enough excuses! I hope you still enjoy! 💙💙

Angel and Aki NSFW Headcannons

Contains: manhandling/borderline dub-con, belly bulging, mention of mirror sex, exhibitionism/chance of getting caught, Aki being touch starved?

° I wish I could have more nsfw headcannons for these pretty boys but I can't help but see them as vanilla as fuck, but they've still got some things that they like to do and that turn them on

° Angel likes it if his partner is bigger than him (which luckily for him is most people)

° This leads to Angel really being into being manhandled, like full on pick him up and throw him on the bed

° Angel is really into you forcing him to do things in whichever way you see fit, whether it be forcing his head up and down on your cock grabbing onto his hair while you do so, or using him as a glorified fleshlight by just holding onto his waist and forcing his body to move in any way you want on your dick

° Pretty much anything else you could think of that forces Angel to pleasure you in some way where you have all the control and there's nothing he can do about it he's probably down for it

° Angel especially loves positions where you have to pick him up and hold him in place, lifting his legs up wrapping them around your waist and fucking him like that? mmm✨delicious✨

° You can definitely expect some belly bulging with this one (maaaybe Angel wouldn't mind if you spread him out in front of a mirror so he could see the bulge you were making in his stomach too...just a thought 👀)

° Angel likes to be tied up

° I don't know why, I guess I just like the thought of Angel being tied up, whenever I think of him in shibari he's just so cute~

° Angel doesn't mind loves getting called pretty boy AND pretty girl

° I like to think that Angel, as a devil, doesn't care too much about gender or presenting as one particular gender so using either or works for him, so please don't hesitate to call him a good girl as you fuck him against the wall

° In between Angel's moans you can hear him cursing in a foreign language, probably latin

° I know I said Angel is pretty vanilla but just because of his nature as a demon I could imagine he's seen and/or is into some pretty freaky stuff that he'll want to divulge in with you in from time to time, but he doesn't want it to become a staple, Angel believes that sex should be quick and easy why complicate it with all the extra kinky stuff?

° Speaking of quick and easy I believe with my whole chest that Aki is into quickies

° Honestly just the thought of you pulling him into some unused office at work bending him over the table and taking him right there and then turns him on enough, imagine if you actually did it? He'd be over the moon

° Aki won't tell you this but he does get off on almost getting caught or being right out of sight or ear shot of someone seeing or hearing you both

° Aki's moans are pretty damn loud and noticeable he tries to hold them back but he's terrible at it, if you two did decide to do it in public somewhere it would be very ovbious what you were doing even if it was behind closed doors

° Two words (well maybe three): Househusband Aki. Need I say more

° Aki really enjoys foreplay, he likes having and knowing that all your attention is on him even if that sounds a little selfish to him

° Having your hands all over his body as you prep him, fingering him, playing with his nipples, kissing him, it doesn't matter

° Pretty much any sort of touch between the two of you is nice for Aki it's reassuring and comforting to him, he's a bit of a softie in the bedroom because of this, he doesn't like to be all rough and forced like Angel

° Aftercare with Aki is spectacular, you already know he's super sweet about it

° He gets both of you all cleaned up afterwards, taking a shower telling you how good you made him feel, rubbing, massaging, cuddling, you name it your doing it!

° Aki for sure enjoys cuddling the most though, being able to run his hands on your body

° Aki also most definitely expects you to do the same, he wants your hands on him as much as possible, running them up and down his sides, putting your fingers in his hair, etc.

° And this doesn't just apply to aftercare but during sex too, wrapping one of your arms around his waist while you thrust into him, letting Aki hold onto your biceps or even putting his arms around your neck, it doesn't matter as long as Aki gets to touch you

° Both of them aren't very good with dirty talk, Aki isn't good at hearing dirty talk and Angel isn't good at speaking dirty

° When Angel tries to dirty talk it usually comes in the form of him trying to decribe all the dirty stuff he wants you to do to him, but it normally comes out like a confused mess, he'll hesitate once with what to say next and then it goes off the rails from there

° Ironically in the spur of the moment when Angel is half out of his mind from overstimulation he might actually say something really sexy that turns you on, he doesn't even know he's doing it, it will just start to happen naturally, guess he needed your help :)

° Aki on the other hand just gets easily flustered so hearing dirty talk will make him turn bright red almoat instantly, it would be a really nice way to tease him

° Aki's way of blushing is also super adorable, it's one of those blushes that reaches all over there face and down their neck, you can even see him get red on other parts of his body like his shoulders, chest, knuckles, all in all Aki just lights up if you can find a way to fluster him (which shouldn't be too hard)

[munsonthings86]

Hiii!! Saw your reqs are open so I’m shooting my shot here hehe.

I was wondering if you could write something inspired by a Gareth x male! Munson! Reader?? (Totally get if you don’t do male reader stuff or don’t write for gareth since he’s a minor character btw!! Just delete this if not! No hard feelings!)

Just hear me out here,, a best friends brother trope 🙇🏻🙇🏻

Reader is Eddie’s younger brother and is secretly dating Gareth, readers a little more introverted/ sensitive than him too. And somehow the relationship gets exposed and Eddie throws a classic fit “are you making out ?? With my sweet baby (legit like only one ore two years younger lol) brother?? GASP!!” Meanwhile reader is absolutely MORTIFIED lmao like a total classic cliche romcom situation hihi

Many kisses and hugs from your lovely anon

how did you know i couldn't resist a good brother's best friend trope? :/ i wrote this especially for you, my lovely! i hope you enjoy.

side note: i aged up the reader and gareth, so they are of age and college students here!

pairing: gareth emerson x munson!reader

wc: 0.6k

the air was thick and warm in the tight space of your uncle's trailer. in the even tighter space between you and gareth, a thin layer of sweat formed. the searing sun shot a stinging beam of light through the small window of the living room onto your exposed legs, and you dread the impending awkward tan line.

"c'mon, we gotta make this quick," you were breathless when you spoke as gareth peppered hot kisses along your jaw and neck. "i know," one kiss. "i just," two kisses. "missed you a lot." three kisses that led a trail down to your chest.

it'd been four incessant months since the last time you had seen your boyfriend, seeing as you each went to different colleges. you swore that you would've burst if you had to go another second without him, and the boy desperately pecking at every possible inch of your body, could clearly relate.

"besides, what's the rush?" his nosy hands found their way under your shirt, grazing the soft skin of your stomach.

"eddie is 'what's the rush’," a gasp fell from your lips when gareth gently pulled at your neck with his teeth. "he'll be back any minute now."

it was almost too easy hiding your relationship with gareth from your older brother while you were away at college, but now that it was summer break and the only place you wanted to be was under your boyfriend, it seemed like a mission impossible to have your lover remain a secret.

gareth found it so adorable when you worried like this. you were a lot like your uncle who spent the better part of his life raising you along with eddie. you were quiet like a mouse, always to yourself, and tended to relish in the comfort of your brother's shadow. a lot of people didn't notice you, but gareth did. and he fell for you, instantly. "you're so cute," he pressed further into you, as your back fell against the couch.

"seriously, he's really overprotective. my uncle's gonna have to start arranging my funeral if eddie catches us like this."

you jolted when the sound of the metal door slamming against the wall pierced through the room. in the frame was your older brother, completely frozen with his face kneaded into a tight dough of shock and utter disbelief. gareth was still clinging onto you, lips pursed, wet, and puffy as he eyed eddie.

"what the hell is going on in here?" the grocery bags he held in hands ruffled loudly as he flailed his arms while he spoke. he stepped further into the trailer, too wildered to even close the door behind him.

"we were just- i was just- kissing," gareth's words tripped over themselves as they clumsily spilled out.

"kissing WHO? this infant? this child that i helped raise? this sweet, innocent baby that doesn't need your little gareth germs all over?" poor eddie didn’t seem to be aware that you were 19, and merely only a year younger than him.

his voice was high and frantic, which though wasn't uncommon, but it certainly was not the voice you'd hoped he'd have when he found out your little secret.

"when the hell did you even get in here? i was only gone for ten minutes!"

your face fell into the palms of your sweaty hands, eyes peering at the mortifying situation between parted fingers. you knew he wasn't truly angry, or else gareth would've been thrown out of the door ages ago, but your stomach still felt twisted and uneasy. your words were muffled when you muttered, "eddie," but the boy only let you get so much out.

"you," he pointed, "don't you say a word. when i get back from putting these bags away, we're gonna have a long talk about why it's bad to lie to your big brother." he walked off with a pout, chunky boots making thunderous sounds against the wooden floor as he retreated to the kitchen.

a silence fell over the stillness of the living room.

"could've been a lot worse," gareth shrugged.

💌 1 new message from jojo: my inbox is open!

[charturnus]

I'm It's a complex

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

a/n: ...... So, surprise, I'm not dead! What can I say? Mercury was in retrograde? In all seriousness, I am very sorry for the ungodly amount of time between chapters, I hope this goliath makes up for it somewhat. Thank you to everyone who has been kind, your messages mean so much to me. Please let me know if you enjoy this!

Dedication: For Magda, who is the brightest light in my life. I know without a doubt that I will never be unloved by you, and that knowledge is balm for an aching soul.

Tags/warnings: 18+ minors DNI; top!wanda; bottom!reader; vaginal sex; praise; dominance; dirty talk; sex toys; degradation; unconventional therapy tactics

Word count: 15K

Summary: Chapter IX; Did you get enough of love, my little dove? AU

The one where Agatha is a show-off, you let something slip, and you make a friend. 

Previous chapter ➵➵

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‘’I told you so!’’  Is the first thing Pepper says, as she steps over the threshold with a bouquet of flowers in one hand, and a stack of papers in the other, a black tote bag slung over one shoulder. Kate follows right behind her, offering us her genuine congratulations. Neither of them know yet, of course. Wanda and I have been sitting tight on the secret of our budding relationship, so they’re just happy our staged kiss worked so well.  

Wanda has made it her mission to throw a dinner party for her friends, so she can announce our relationship in style. But it turns out that it’s quite difficult to gather a group of women who all have insanely busy jobs. Pepper works crazy hours, Agatha sometimes works miles away, and I know from experience that Maria, who has taken over my old job, has her plate completely full. But, Wanda has managed to find a date and time that works for everyone, so as Pepper and Kate file in (20 minutes early), we all keep an eye on the clock, waiting for the others to arrive. 

‘’Have you seen the pictures yet?’’ Kate asks me as we stand at the kitchen counter, pulling out empty plates, bowls and sets of cutlery to lay the table with. I shrug, ‘’Wanda doesn’t take papers or magazines, and she told me not to bother looking for it online. I think she’s got some weird experience with the press or something.’’ Kate gives me a wide-eyed look of understanding. ‘’They’re ruthless, they print really nasty things sometimes, she’s probably just trying to protect you.’’ I nod, unconcerned, ‘’yeah, probably.’’ I know tabloids have a way of painting people in the worst light possible, but Wanda isn’t that famous. It’s not like she’s an A-list celebrity, so I’m quite sure nobody is going to bother with me.

We each take a stack of plates, and a handful of cutlery to carry into the dining room and when I push through the door with my shoulder, I see that Agatha has joined the group. I didn’t hear the front door open, so she must have come in through the back. She's sitting together with Wanda and Pepper, leaning back in her chair, rolling her eyes at something the two other women are saying to her, their voices muddling together. 

I don't quite catch what the conversation is about, but Kate is quick to turn to Pepper after we deposit the dishes on the scrubbed wooden table. "What was that about a hotel?" She asks, strolling over to seat herself comfortably in Pepper's lap. Their limbs fit together perfectly, in a way you wouldn’t assume when you see them standing next to each other. I envy the easy way Kate drapes herself over Pepper, with not a care in the world. My eyes linger for a short while on their intertwined fingers, but my attention is quickly drawn back to the topic at hand. My brows knit together in confusion at the mention of a hotel. I don’t understand why Pepper would need a hotel, as she isn’t due for a holiday yet. 

"Are you going on holiday?" I ask casually, my curious side getting the better of me. I direct my question at Pepper, but it's Wanda who answers me, her voice soothing and casual, "no, honey, it's a work trip. Pepper and I are both going, and we need to book the hotel soon." 

Kate’s eyes widen in alarm, and I watch as her hand tightens around Pepper's fingers. She gives her a reproachful look, "you didn't tell me you’re going away." Pepper looks genuinely sorry as she lays a comforting hand on Kate’s back, cradling her close. I turn to look at Wanda, my eyes asking the same question of her. You didn't tell me you’re going away. 

"The conference was supposed to be in town, but the venue cancelled at the last minute," Pepper says, "the closest place we could find is a four-hour drive and there's no way we can travel 8 hours every day." It's fair, I know it is, but still my heart contracts painfully in my chest. ‘’I can come, right?’’ Kate asks, her tone hopeful and cheery, ‘’we haven’t been on holiday in ages.’’ Pepper for her part really does look sorry when she has to disappoint her. ‘’Honey, you know your mother will also be there, I don’t want you so near her for that long.’’ Kate’s face crumples, and she begins to cry softly, resting her head against Pepper’s as her shoulders shake. I ball my hands into fists, staving off the tears, wishing I could do the same.  

I watch as Pepper cradles her close to her, holding her head tightly to her chest, rocking slightly as she whispers words I can’t make out. I can feel tears prickling at the back of my eyes, knowing already what’s to come. Wanda holds her hand out to me, inviting me into a hug. "It's only five days, dove," she says, holding me tightly, whispering, "You’ll be fine, won’t you? I bet you’ll enjoy a nice little break.’’ 

I want to crumple like Kate, be shushed by Wanda like Pepper is doing for Kate. But Wanda thinks I'm stronger than that, that five days apart is no big deal. And it is, of course it’s not a big deal. The rational part of me knows that there is nothing odd about this, it’s completely normal. So why then does it feel like my chest has been hollowed out?

Wanda doesn't expect me to cry. So, I force myself to smile at her. "Of course," I say with a laugh, my voice straining against the tears that threaten to escape from me, "it's only five days." 

***  

As soon as the opportunity arises, I escape to the kitchen for a while, trying to find something useful to do. Wanda hired a catering company to take care of the food, so I can't cook, or pretend to fuss with the food that's cooking in the oven, or sitting covered on the counter. 

I decide that wine is my best option, and I open the wine cooler, to inspect the available bottles. I slide my hand over the cool bottlenecks, feeling the condensation dampen my fingers. Truth be told, I don't know what I'm doing, I don't drink wine. So, I just take out the bottles one by one, and try to judge them on their appearance. I discount the white ones, simply because red wine looks more dramatic. The labels aren't very exciting, though, so this really doesn't help me to narrow it down. 

"Are you contemplating alcoholism?"  

Agatha's sudden appearance startles me so much that the bottle of Argentinean Malbec threatens to slip from my fingers, but thankfully I manage to regain my grasp on the thin neck before it can crash to the ground. My heart pounds in my chest, and I quickly replace the bottle, letting out my breath in a shaky puff. Agatha raises an eyebrow at me, "guilty conscience, hon?"  

"Not a fan of people sneaking up on me, actually," I say, scowling as I close the door to the wine cooler. Agatha snorts, "I wasn't sneaking, I was looking for you."  

"What for?"  

"You tell me, you get your feelings hurt and next thing I know you look like you're turning to the bottle."  

I’ve only known Agatha for a very short while, but after my conversation with her at the gala, I’m not surprised in the slightest that she noticed I’m upset. I actually think it’s pretty comical, and want to laugh at her remark, but I don't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing I think she's funny. So I try very hard to make it look like I'm annoyed, and I keep my lips resolutely sealed.  

"I thought you didn't drink?"  

"I drink," I say evasively, now perusing a rack of champagne next to the wine cooler.  

"Wanda said that you had your first drink in 10 years at the gala." I roll my eyes, "three years, actually. And so what? I fancy another one now." 

Agatha moves over to lean against the kitchen counter, looking at me over the lenses of her glasses. "You know I have great connections with Alcoholics Anonymous, do you want me to give you their number?"  

From the rack, I pull a bottle of Dom Pérignon, scanning the label like I know what I'm doing. "What are you actually here for? Because I think we both know I'm not looking to start a life of alcohol abuse." I keep my eyes glued to the label as I speak, turning it over and reading every word twice, anything so I won't have to look at her. But Agatha notices, of course she does.  

"I see you're avoiding making eye-contact with me," she says, in that simple way she has of saying things. Just stating a truth, and waiting for me to explain myself. I don't, I just shrug, "it's not a crime, is it?" 

‘’No,’’ she says airily, ‘’but I think it’s essential in order for a person to open up and allow themselves to be vulnerable. If you avoid eye-contact, you’re avoiding your own vulnerability.’’ This makes me falter, and I stammer a bit trying to find an adequate response, but Agatha ignores me, her eyes suddenly serious as she asks, "what do you think of Wanda having to go away for a business trip?"  

Out of spite, I make sure to look Agatha dead in her eyes, but I regret it almost instantly. She's looking at me in that way again, like she can already see everything that's playing in my head, and she's just waiting for me to confirm her theories. "It's pretty normal for her to take business trips several times a year."  

Agatha's eyes change, a look of reprove evident in her gaze. "I think you know that isn't what I was asking you." Her dissatisfaction with my answer stings, and not for the first time, I'm seized with a strange desire to tell her everything I'm worrying about. As if in doing so I wouldn't have to face her disapproval again. I try to keep myself composed, under her scrutinizing gaze. "It's only five days, Wanda said it's not a big deal." Agatha cocks her head to one side, "did she? I don't recall her saying that."

I'm agitated now, provoked by the anxiety from the conversation in the dining room, and now by Agatha prying into this situation. "But she meant it,’’ I say, a little too loudly, my voice cracking just a bit. ‘’Ah,’’ Agatha mutters, taking off her glasses, the end of one ear resting against her lips, ‘’so that’s what you’re about.’’ This makes precisely no sense to me, but Agatha doesn’t seem bothered to explain what she meant. She only smiles at me, the kind of encouraging smile I imagine her giving a client. ‘’You’re ashamed,’’ she says simply, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.  

‘’I beg your pardon?’’ Agatha ignores me again, which appears to be becoming a habit, and presses on with a question of her own, ‘’Wanda didn’t actually say that it wasn’t a big deal, did she? So why do you think she meant to say it?’’ My hands are beginning to shake, and I have to put the bottle of champagne down. ‘’I don’t know, she just asked me to deal with it.’’ I mumble, turning away from Agatha, so I don’t have to look at her anymore. Behind me, I hear her hum, mulling my statement over in her head. ‘’Remember what I said about eye contact, hon?’’  

With a herculean effort, I turn around again, resting my back against the counter, slowly raising my eyes to look back up at her. She gives me a smile for my efforts. “Good job, hon,’’ she says in a higher pitched voice than I have heard from her so far. It feels somehow both condescending and rewarding. It’s the kind of tone you’d use when training a puppy, big exaggerate sounds that they can recognize, so they know when they’ve done something right. I want to hear her say it again.  

"How did it make you feel when Kate began to cry?’’ she asks, her glasses dangling from her fingers. ‘’I don’t know, sad, I guess?’’ Agatha hums again, ‘’Sad because she was upset, or sad because you felt like you weren’t allowed to show the same level of emotion?’’  

This throws me a bit, and I stutter out several uh’s and uhm’s before I can form a proper reply. ‘’I didn’t say that I wasn’t allowed to cry,’’ I say defensively. ‘’No, you didn’t. But you wanted to cry too, didn’t you?’’ 

‘’Why does that matter?’’ I say, my old agitation flaring up again. I feel my face heating up, and I’m profoundly uncomfortable under Agatha’s scrutiny. I don’t like that she knows these things about me. It frightens me that she can watch me and tell me exactly what goes on in my head. It feels invasive.  

‘’If it doesn’t matter, answer my question.’’ 

‘’Fine,’’ I snap, much more aggressively than I had intended. ‘’I am upset, and I did want to cry, but that doesn’t matter anymore because it’s settled now.’’ Agatha’s brows furrow at my tone, but she doesn’t chide me for it. ‘’Do you really believe that?’’ she asks in a tone that suggests that she knows I’m lying. ‘’Wanda is going, and no amount of whining is going to change that.’’ She pulls a face of surprise, but I know enough to know by now that she isn’t surprised by this. I’m confirming what she’s known all along. ‘’Is that how you see the expression of your emotions? As whining?’’ 

‘’That’s not what I said.’’ Agatha smiles a devious smile. ‘’No, but you meant it,’’ she says, parroting my own words back at me. My shoulders slump forward a bit, my body wanting to shrink in on itself, to hide me from Agatha. ‘’Hon,’’ she says gently, laying a warm hand on my shoulder, ‘’I’m not doing this to be mean, I’m trying to help you. Be honest with me, and let me help you make it better.’’ I’m tired of this back and forth already, and the rational part of me knows that she’s right, Agatha isn’t doing this to antagonize me, so I sigh and nod. ‘’I just don’t want Wanda to think I’m too needy.’’ 

‘’And why is that?’’ she says, her tone encouraging, trying to coax me out of my shell. ‘’I’m afraid she won’t like me anymore if she knows how much I need her.’’ Agatha allows a silence to fall, stretching out painfully long. I think she’s waiting for me to say something, let loose more of my thoughts, but I don’t want to. Not when I’m not being prompted to, anyway.  

‘’Have you felt that before?’’ she finally asks, after what feels like an eternity, ‘’That you couldn’t let someone know you needed them?’’ 

The answer is out of my mouth before I can stop myself. ‘’Yes.’’ I say, without even thinking about it. Something like triumph glitters in Agatha’s eyes, ‘’Why don’t you tell me about that, hon?’’ I shake my head dismissively, ‘’I don’t want to talk about it.’’ 

‘’You don’t have to give details, just give me a rough idea.’’ I shrug, my eyes finding the floor again. ‘’I don’t know, this is just so personal. I’m not your client.’’ Agatha chuckles, ‘’aren’t you?’’ She takes a step back from the counter and begins pulling open drawers, she stops when she opens the miscellaneous drawer, where we keep bits and pieces that don’t belong anywhere else. She fishes out a notepad that I’ve been using to write grocery lists on, and that Wanda uses to write little notes to me or the housekeeper. She produces a pen from her pocket and throws the notepad down on the counter, clicks the pen open, and begins to take notes. 

She replaces her glasses carefully on the edge of her nose, writing down words that I can’t make out from here. A silence lingers for a while, and whilst Agatha seems perfectly at ease, I feel more and more disconcerted with every second that passes by. After a while, she looks up at me, her glasses sitting slightly crooked on her nose. ‘’So, are you going to accept that you need my help, or are you going to run yourself into the ground? The choice is all yours, toots.’’  

This isn’t rejection, quite the opposite, but there’s a suggestion of it in her tone, and it makes me recoil. Her approval earlier felt so warm, enveloping me like a blanket, shutting out the cold. I feel ridiculous for wanting this from her, when I could get it somewhere else. I could go back to work, and fall back into the steady rhythm of misery, that nonetheless feeds that ugly part of me that wants to be praised for my actions.  

For a second I feel the sensation of déjà vu, like I’ve done this exact thing before, stood in this spot together with Agatha. I know I haven’t, of course. Just a trick of the mind. But I know I’ve been here before, not in this kitchen, with this woman, but in different places, with other women. My neighbour, my aunt, several teachers, a doctor, and then me, wanting nothing more than to please, to say or do the right thing, so that they would like me and keep me around. Agatha waves a hand in front of my eye-line, and I realize I’ve been staring off into the distance. I shake my head slightly, clearing the foggy thoughts from my mind. ‘’Well?’’ she asks, her eyebrows raised, ‘’penny for your thoughts, hon.’’ 

‘’Kate used to be your client, right?’’ She’s surprised by my question, but she still answers me. ‘’A couple of years ago, yes.’’  

‘’What did you do to help her?’’ Agatha smiles, and it’s slightly condescending, like I’m a child asking her why the grass is green. ‘’Trade secret, baby. It’s confidential.’’ I try to brush past the pet name, pushing her for more answers. ‘’At the gala, Mrs. Bishop said that thing to you,’’ I say with a slight flush creeping into my cheeks, ‘’about, uhm, you know- The mother thing.’’ Agatha snorts, shaking her head at me. ‘’Right, what was it again? Something about telling vulnerable girls to go fuck their mothers, I think.’’ Now she doesn’t have her glasses in hand anymore, she takes to playing with her pen, spinning it around in her hands. The plastic of the pen makes soft ticking noises as it makes contact with the many rings on her fingers.  

‘’Eleanor Bishop doesn’t know the first thing about my line of work, and not just that, she has no clue who her daughter truly is. She knows that I encouraged both her relationship and her dynamic with Pepper, and unfortunately, she found out a few too many details about the workings of it all. She drew her own conclusions, and as a result, she spouts nonsense like that.’’ 

‘’Oh,’’ I say, ‘’so, she was lying? I mean, you didn’t-‘’ I trail off awkwardly, and Agatha laughs, the sound of echoing through the kitchen. ‘’What? Tell her she wants to fuck her mother? No, I didn’t.’’ My face heats up, and I scramble for my words, ‘’N-no I didn’t, that’s not what I-‘’ But Agatha waves it away dismissively. ‘’Eleanor Bishop is upset, because she realized that she messed her kid up, and she’s looking for everything she couldn’t get from her mother, somewhere else. Kate is making up for lost time, and her mother can’t accept that she failed her child.’’

Unbidden, the image of my own mother floats up into my mind's eye, and the little voice in my head taunts me when the similarities in our situation become so clear to me. I think she can sense my discomfort, and the shift in energy, because she shrugs it off, ‘’never mind all of that, if you want the details of Kate’s treatment plan, you’re going to have to ask her for consent because I’m not in the business of HIPAA violations.’’ 

‘’O-okay.’’ I manage weakly.  ‘’That’s later,’’ she says, her demeanour shifting as she looks back down at the notepad full of her scribbles, ‘’now I’d like to circle back to that question I asked you. Someone made you feel like you couldn’t let them know you needed them. Who made you feel that way, and why?’’ 

‘’Uhm,’’ I mutter, forcing myself once again to make eye contact with Agatha, ‘’my mother.’’ I watch as her eyebrow twitches slightly, and her eyes light up as though she just struck gold. ‘’You needed her, as all children need her mothers,’’ she says, ‘’but she didn’t fulfil those needs?’’ Her voice is sweet as honey, asking a question to which she already knows the answer.

I begin to pick at the skin around my palm, digging my nails in hard to prevent myself from crying. ‘’My mother didn’t care for me like mothers are supposed to,’’ I say, ‘’I had to care for her a lot of the time, support her emotionally, I mean.’’ Agatha nods her understanding, encouraging me to continue. ‘’I needed her when I was little, and after that too sometimes. But I never felt like I could tell her that, because I was supposed to be the strong one.’’ 

Her pen flies over the page as I speak, and I try to follow it, but can’t make any sense of it. She isn’t writing down my words, but that’s as much as I can tell. She’s drawing arrows too, and little stars next to sentences. She doesn’t say things that my old therapist would have said, like ‘that’s rough’, or ‘that must have been hard on you’. She just lays down her pen, nodding her head solemnly.  ‘’What were you feeling when Pepper comforted Kate as she cried?’’ 

The question throws me a bit, because my mind had wandered off into the dark depths of my past. I bring myself back to that moment in the dining room, standing there watching Kate fall apart. I shift my weight nervously from foot to foot, and shrug. 

"Be honest, tell me how you felt."  

"Envious." 

‘’Ah,’’ Agatha says softly, ‘’You wanted Wanda to do the same for you?’’ 

My nails dig harder into my palm, as tears threaten to spill from my eyes and fall down my cheeks. ‘’Pepper just saw straight away how upset Kate was, and she comforted her. I wanted that too.’’ 

‘’You want Wanda to look after you, like Pepper looks after Kate?’’ 

‘’I guess,’’ I say, acting like I wouldn’t give the world to be comforted by Wanda right now. I think back to my first night at the house, and how gentle and kind she was then. She held me as I cried, and rocked me to sleep. I wonder what it would take for her to do that again.  

Agatha hums thoughtfully, ‘’that dynamic didn’t spring up out of nowhere, you understand that, don’t you? It takes time and trust, and most importantly honesty and openness.’’ This sounds so much like actual advice, that the surprise must be evident on my face, because Agatha snorts, ‘’you know I have my PhD in psychology, don’t you? I can say half decent things when I bother to.’’ She shakes her head at me, but I haven’t yet wiped the smirk from her face.  

‘’Pepper didn’t spot that Kate was upset out of nowhere, it was communicated to her when Kate began to cry, Pepper picked up that cue, and was then able to comfort her. It’s about communication and mutual understanding.’’ Agatha removes her glasses again, her gaze suddenly stern, ‘’and given that you’re standing here contemplating getting drunk, rather than talking to Wanda, that indicates to me that you have a long way to go in that department.’’ 

*** 

Our impromptu therapy session comes to an end when Wanda slips in through the half open kitchen door to announce Maria’s arrival. She doesn’t seem surprised in the slightest at Agatha’s presence, and merely gives my hand a little squeeze as she leads me out of the kitchen and to the dinner table. All seats, barring one, are filled, and I know, even without anyone telling me so, that that seat was meant for Natasha Romanoff. Opposite me, Kate looks to have calmed down mostly, and she’s contentedly nibbling on some bread as she listens to Pepper gloat about our achievement. Her cheeks are red now, though, and I notice her squirming in her seat, but quickly my attention is diverted by Pepper showing the others the magazine covers featuring mine and Wanda’s picture.  

I have a look, too, and I’m surprisingly pleased at how the photographs turned out. Our backseat kiss genuinely looks like it could have been an accident, our edges are blurred, making it look like it was hastily taken. We’re pressed impossibly close to one another, the flush in my cheeks clear, even in the fuzzy picture, the sight of this brings me right back to that moment. Under the table, Wanda takes hold of my thigh, squeezing slightly. ‘’You make a handsome pair,’’ Maria says, inclining her head towards us with a smile. Wanda nudges me playfully with her elbow, ‘’we do, don’t we, honey?’’  

Maria snorts, ‘’you could’ve fooled me.’’ 

‘’Actually, that’s why I asked you all to come over today,’’ Wanda says, making good use of the segue provided by Maria, ‘’we may or may not have been keeping a secret from you.’’ Even with so little to go on, the reaction from the room is instantaneous. Kate gasps hugely, and Agatha slumps back in her chair with triumph, a gloating look on her face. ‘’I knew it,’’ she says, with a shit-eating grin, ‘’cough up, Hill.’’ Maria curses, slamming her fist hard against the wooden table, ‘’oh come on! You couldn’t have waited two more weeks?’’  

I look between the two women with some confusion, trying to figure out what exactly they’re talking about. Maria fishes a £50 note out of her pocket, and slides it across the table with a sour look. ‘’You took a bet on our relationship?’’ I say indignantly, but all the women at the table, including Maria, merely laugh at me. ‘’For the record, I knew before you had even signed that damned contract that this would happen.’’ Pepper states, pointing her finger around at everyone, ‘’I called this.’’ 

 ‘’I’m sorry Wands,’’ Agatha says, as she pockets the money, ‘’it was too good of an opportunity to let go. I think all of us knew this was bound to happen.’’ She’s clearly right, because it seems that everyone had been expecting for us to make the announcement soon. Even with the anxiety about Wanda’s trip weighing me down, I feel slightly comforted by the knowledge that Wanda’s friends are accepting of us, and approving of me. They treat me like one of their own, and have done so since the very first moment. And once the moment of shock has passed, everyone goes back to their regular conversations. The normalcy of it all grounds me somewhat, even as my stomach twists and turns as I think over Wanda’s upcoming trip.

*** 

The dinner is delicious, the wine even more so. Still, my appetite is minimal. Even with the good conversation, and the nice company, my mood is dampened by the thought of Wanda’s departure. I nibble at my meal, pushing it around a little with my fork. I compensate for my lack of enthusiasm for the food by gulping down the wine. It goes straight to my head. Not in the way hard liquor does, this feels different somehow. My head swims, and I feel the buzz, but there’s none of the horrible nausea that comes with drinking cheap vodka.  

Wanda notices that I don’t make much of a dent in my dinner, and she places a strong hand on my thigh, leaning in to whisper to me, asking me if I’m feeling alright. Seated at the head of the table, Agatha is holding court, loudly telling a lewd story involving a student, several board members and a cat o' nine tails whip.  ‘’Of course,’’ I lie, with a smile, and I notice that it’s a bit harder to pull off than I am used to. In the before times, as I now have come to think of them, I told all sorts of lies all the time, with no issue whatsoever. Yes, I slept well. Yes, I ate my dinner. No, this project isn’t overwhelming. No, I don’t need more time to work on it. Lying came as easily to me as breathing, and the difficulty I have now, however slight, unsettles me.  

Wanda frowns a bit, looking down at my hardly touched plate, and she opens her mouth to speak, but I am saved from her inquiries by the sound of breaking glass. I start, almost threatening to upset my own wine glass, but I save it in the nick of time. Across the table from me, Kate’s face is red, and a slight shimmer of tears is visible in her eyes once more. Her glass lies broken on the ground, the little orange juice that was in it, splattered all over the floor. Pepper’s hand flies to the ring of her collar, yanking her harshly towards her.  

‘’Uh oh…’’ Agatha sing songs, a cruel smile on her face, ‘’you should house train your pets Pepper.’’ If looks could kill, Agatha would be decomposing where she sits. Ever dignified, however, Pepper ignores her, instead choosing to hiss some words to Kate that I can’t make out. Kate is still squirming, tears steadily dripping down her face. It doesn’t shock me, but I’m surprised to see them interact like this. Until now, I’ve never witnessed an altercation between them, and it’s strange to hear the venom in Pepper’s voice when she grabs Kate harshly by the face, to turn her head in our direction. 

‘’Now apologize to miss Wanda for breaking her pretty glass.’’ Kate whines, and she struggles in Pepper’s grasp, but she manages to stutter out a weak, ‘’I- I’m sorry, muh-miss Wanda.’’  Wanda for her part takes it well, she squeezes my thigh slightly before she speaks, her voice gentle and reassuring, ‘’that’s alright Katie, thank you for apologizing. Are you going to be a good girl and clean it up?’’ 

Something inside me jumps at her words, and I suddenly wish it were me in Kate’s position. Across the table, I watch as Pepper’s fingers move from her face, where they were squishing Kate’s cheeks together, back to her collar, pulling her in so close that only she can make out her partner’s words. My eyes drift to Pepper’s lap, where her phone lies open on a screen that shows something like sound waves. I stare at it for a while, unsure of what I’m looking at, but when Pepper’s finger casually slides over the screen to increase the waves, and Kate lets out a high-pitched noise of surprise, I realize what’s going on. I feel the heat bloom in my face, and I look away quickly from the pair, trying to ignore Wanda’s warm hand on my thigh, and the strange feelings swirling in my gut. In my haste to look anywhere but the scene in front of me, I accidentally make eye contact with Agatha, who sits at the head of the table, leaning back in her chair, grinning at me from over the rim of her glasses. She raises an eyebrow at me, and I can just imagine her voice as though she were actually speaking to me. 

Enjoying the show, hon?’

*** 

Under Pepper’s watchful gaze, Kate sweeps up the broken glass and mops the floor to clear it from the orange juice. She’s not crying anymore, but she’s prone to having fits of uncontrollable shaking, whenever Pepper plays with the waves on her phone. Everyone at the table continues their conversations, acting like this is the most normal thing in the world to them. And maybe it is. 

‘’Are you okay?’’ Wanda whispers to me, ‘’I know it’s a lot, is that why you’re having a bit of a hard time tonight?’’ I seize this opportunity with both hands, ‘’Yes,’’ I whisper back, watching as Kate clambers into Pepper’s lap, having just finished cleaning up her mess, ‘’it’s okay though, I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.’’  

She seems satisfied with this explanation, and she throws an arm over my shoulders, reclining in her seat. Kate has her face buried in the crook of Pepper’s neck, and the conversation falls silent, just in time for us to her Kate mumble something against Pepper’s skin. ‘’I’m sorry mommy.’’ 

It feels like a current of electricity runs through my body at the sound of that word, and suddenly the room has become uncomfortably hot. I’m hyper aware of Wanda’s arm around my shoulders, and I know for certain that if I were to turn my head, Agatha would be right there staring at me. I don’t give her the satisfaction, so I resolutely stare straight ahead.  ‘’Don’t mind her,’’ Pepper says airily to the room at large, ‘’she’s fussy today’’ and then, turning to Kate, ‘’aren’t you, puppy?’’  

Kate seems much more relaxed now, her tears are gone, her sniffles replaced with soft moans and whines. She nods blearily, her hands pawing slightly at Pepper’s blouse. ‘’Someone’s impatient.’’ Maria laughs, and she stands up to fetch a simple black bag sitting on an ottoman in the corner of the room. I recognize it as the bag Pepper brought over today. She throws it underhanded to Pepper, who surprisingly catches it. ‘’Give us some entertainment, won’t you? It’s been ages.’’ Pepper gives her an annoyed look, ‘’she broke a glass, Hill. I know you don’t understand the concept of discipline, but she can’t be rewarded for that.’’  

‘’Who said it’ll be a reward?’’ Agatha cuts in, shoving her chair back loudly and strolling over to where Pepper sits holding the bag. She reaches in, fishing out a pretty purple toy with a suction cup. She leans down to attach it to the floor, before heading back to her seat. ‘’She can fuck herself on that, we all know she won’t be able to cum from just that.’’ Kate’s eyes go wide, and she whines, both of her hands clutching at Pepper’s blouse now. ‘’No, no, no, no. Mommy, I’m sorry,’’ she cries, ‘’you promised, you said I could.’’  But Pepper doesn’t relent, merely giving her a stern look, ‘’maybe later, if you’re a good girl for us now, okay puppy?’’ 

Maria helps Pepper to extract the girl from her, guiding her to the floor, where they squat on either side of her to manoeuvre her to her knees. Once she’s down, Maria returns to her seat, keeping a respectful distance. From my position, I can’t see everything that’s happening, but I watch as Pepper reaches her hand up Kate’s skirt and whispers some words to her that I can’t hear. Kate puts her hands on Pepper’s shoulders to steady herself, there’s a wet sucking noise that makes even the tips of my ears feel hot, and then the quiet room is filled with a buzzing noise. I feel rather light-headed as I watch Maria helpfully turn down the waves on Pepper’s phone, and the vibrations stop instantly.  

‘’Be a good girl and fuck yourself on that, puppy.’’ Pepper says, petting Kate’s hair affectionately, ‘’you heard miss Maria, they want a show.’’ There’s a smacking noise, and I assume Pepper tapped Kate on her ass, because she makes a startled noise, and moves into action almost instantly. She shuffles on her knees, holding on to Pepper for support, before lowering herself down. I can only imagine what is going on beyond my line of sight, but Kate lets out a low moan of relief, that almost fills in the blanks on the picture in my head. I can almost see the purple silicone between her thighs. Pepper raises herself up again, slipping a small black toy, shining with slick, into the pocket of her trousers. ‘’That’s a good girl, puppy.’’ 

*** 

My head swims, either from the alcohol, Wanda's ever burning grip on my thigh, or Kate's increasingly loud moans. Maria, Pepper and Agatha are egging Kate on, making lewd comments about her body, and vulgar remarks about everything they could be doing to her if only she had been a good girl. Kate's face is red and streaked with tears that are by now dripping down her chin. Whilst she had started off moving slowly, her face contorted as though the toy was almost painful, she now sets a punishing pace, and she pants with the effort of it. 

 ''It's such a shame that you've forgotten how to behave, Katie.'' Agatha remarks with a dark smile, ''it's been so long since you kept my pretty cock warm.'' In response to this, Kate lets out a tortured sound, ''no, no, no, no, no...'' She whines, turning her eyes upward to look alternately at Pepper and then at Agatha. ''Please- Please,'' she huffs, ''you promised, you said I could, I've been good all week.'' 

My heart beats at four times its normal speed, and I can't help but keep myself focused on Kate as she bobs up and down on the toy. The revelation that Agatha has slept with Kate before doesn't shock me, as it probably should, but the thought that Pepper would share her is astounding to me.  

''Mommy, please,'' Kate whines again, fingers grabbing at Pepper's white trouser legs, ''I'll be so good, please, please I want to sit on daddy’s lap.'' If Pepper is surprised at that title for Agatha, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she rolls her eyes, grabbing a fistful of Kate's hair, yanking her upright, ''you're a desperate little cock whore lately, aren't you?'' With a shove, she's pushed in the direction of Agatha, who looks as though Christmas has come early.  My throat feels rather dry, and I take a shaky gulp of my wine. Wanda, who's been silent until now, speaks up, ''you can't blame her for wanting Agatha, now can you Pepper? I think we've all fallen victim to her charm at some point.''  

My head feels much too foggy to even begin to try to understand what this means, so I just decide to let it go for now. Wanda clearly feels more confident, now that everyone is busy watching this display, and she leans down slightly to press a kiss to my cheek, her hand dropping back to my thigh and skirting dangerously close the apex of my thighs. Quite suddenly, I'm uncomfortably aware of the throbbing sensation between my legs.  

I look around for a distraction, for something that could help me turn these feelings around, something dull to stare at, tiles to count. But my wandering eye is drawn to Agatha, who is beckoning Kate over to her. I wait for something to happen, for someone to search through the black bag again and produce another toy. But, nothing of the sort happens, Kate merely lowers herself obediently in between Agatha's spread legs.  

''I told you to house-train your pets, Peps,'' Agatha says smugly, her nimble fingers moving to undo the zip of her trousers. I feel as though I might faint any moment now. ''How many years has it been now? Four? Five?'' her fingers dig in the opening of her zip, grasping at something I can't see, ''and she still remembers my training.''  

From the gap she pulls another toy, also purple, but short and thick, and more realistic in looks. The thought of Agatha walking around with that hidden all evening makes my head spin, and my mouth water. Kate doesn't need instructions, and simply leans down to take Agatha in her mouth. With a smirk, the older woman collects all of Kate's hair to keep it away from her mouth. I have to breathe in through my nose and let my breath out through my mouth in order to calm my racing heart somewhat. But it's difficult when Maria talks about how Kate ''sucks cock like a champ'' and when Pepper is urging Agatha to ''make her choke on it'' 

 Agatha seems to like Pepper's suggestion, because a few times she snaps her hips up sharply, and in response Kate makes a grotesque gagging noise, saliva dribbling from her chin to her chest. Even through all of this, I manage to keep it together, manage to ignore the way Agatha makes conversation with Maria as if Kate isn't sucking her off under the table.  

But when after a few long minutes, Agatha hauls Kate up to sit in her lap, my brain seems to short-circuit. Kate lets out a contented sigh of relief, but this is only short-lived because the second she tries to lift herself up to fuck herself on it, Agatha stops her. Kate's lower lip trembles, and I'm sure she's going to put up a fight, but she remains silent. ''See?'' Agatha gloats, ''you can be a good girl. Go on, grind on my cock, Katie.''  She flips up Kate's skirt to reveal her cunt, soaking wet and swollen. My clit twitches and throbs, and I grasp at Wanda's hand, my fingers clutching hers desperately. I can't take my eyes off of her, and all I can think is why her, and not me? 

Images of me in Kate's position flood my mind. I want Wanda to reach out and touch me, in front of everyone here, I don't care. I just need this ache to stop, but I don't know how to ask for it. Kate is getting desperate now, and I like to imagine that she's letting out my frustration for me. At least she can be loud, I have to sit here quietly.  

She's struggling in Agatha's grasp, but the older woman holds her firmly in place. ''Please, please, please-'' she babbles, and I'm not sure who she's asking. ''Please what?'' Pepper answers. Kate's whole body trembles as Pepper gets up, moving to stand in front of Kate seated on Agatha's lap I can feel my own wetness, and I'm sure that if I were to touch myself now, my fingers would be covered in my own slick. My hands are sweaty, and my legs are shaking.  

Pepper’s fingers find their home around Kate’s throat, and they both smile. Kate looks relieved, almost. ‘’Please take care of me mommy, I need- I need…’’ It comes out slightly garbled, but I can still make out the words. ‘’It’s okay baby, let’s empty that pretty head of yours.’’

I’m highly conscious of Wanda next to me, and I wonder what she thinks of this. Does she want this like I want this? 

I wish this were us. 

I wish I could ask her to take care of me. 

When Kate comes, Agatha’s eyes find mine again, and I can almost hear her speaking to me, gloating and goading. I can almost feel her hands on my waist, just as they are on Kate’s. You wish this was you, don’t you?

The room feels much too hot, and I feel too exposed. My chair makes a loud scraping noise when I push it back, startling everyone except for Pepper and Kate, who seem to be in a world of their own.

Wanda rises to follow me, but I hear Agatha calling her to stay, and to let me go.

***

When I burst into the bedroom, where the windows have been open all evening, I notice how clammy I feel. My mouth is dry and tacky, the world spinning slightly on its axis. Maybe I had a little bit too much wine. But what else was I supposed to? All evening I’ve been trying to push Wanda’s trip from my mind, but I feel the horrible, twisted sadness creeping in again. My chest feels hollowed out, empty and gaping. I blame Agatha and her awful questions. 

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about this, I don’t want to cry, but I can feel it in my throat and behind my eyes. I swallow it back. I’m better than that, surely. I lower myself onto the edge of the bed on shaking arms. I want comfort, I want Wanda. But I can’t have her, I don’t know how to ask for this. I don’t even know what I want to ask for. What do I even want her to do? Fuck the sadness out of me? Maybe that idea isn’t half bad. At least then I won’t have to think about this. Maybe that’s why Kate wanted to do all of that today, maybe she just knows how to regulate her emotions better than I do. 

Almost mechanically, I push myself back up, and make my way to the second bedroom, that once was meant to be mine. I pull out the tote bag that I had wedged between the headboard and the wall on my first day at the house. My toy doesn’t look like Kate’s, but it has a suction cup just like hers. This will do. 

With trembling hands, I suction the toy to the smooth tiles of the bathroom floor. I make sure it's close enough to the bath, so I can drape my upper body over that when I inevitably lose the strength in my arms to keep myself upright. Hastily I slide my underwear down my legs, kicking them away into the corner and I sink down onto my knees. The tiles are hard and cold, and it's somewhat painful to kneel there. I think it's wonderful. 

I'm wet all down my thighs, and yet I know I haven't been prepped properly. I know this will hurt for a while, but I welcome the pain. The lubricant spreads messily over my hand, cold and slick, as I wipe it off on the toy. Gingerly, I lower myself down over it, mewling as the cold head slips and slides over my heated clit. When I position the head over my entrance I realize just how unprepared I am for this, but I can't find it in myself to care, if I don't get this inside me now I feel as though I might collapse in on myself. 

The stretch is significant, but it still slides in easily thanks to the combined wetness of my arousal and the lubricant. Just the head rests inside, and I have to breathe through the stinging pain. It doesn't hurt too much for me to continue, so I try to relax and bounce myself up and down a bit. After a few moments I feel able to take some more of the length, though it still stings. The head now rests comfortably against that one delicious spot inside of me, and I have to bite back a moan. How can something feel so uncomfortable, and yet so wonderful at the same time? 

It takes only a few minutes for my body to adjust, and for the stinging to fade away into nothingness. Now all I feel is a primal, deep sort of need. My insides twist and squirm, begging for more, begging for some kind of relief, not just of the physical kind. The rhythm I establish is nothing short of messy, and it’s all wrong. I can’t get the pacing right, and that marvellous feeling of bottoming out on a toy is nowhere to be found. It feels good, but not good enough. Frustrated tears pool in my eyes, so thick and heavy they actually fall, dripping all the way down my chin onto my chest. After fifteen minutes I am half sobbing, half moaning, delirious from an ache I can’t satisfy. I need more, I need more, I need- I need-

When Wanda finds me, she looks surprised. Her mouth open and rounded into a perfect little oh. I can’t stop myself, not even with Wanda here. It aches so bad, and I can’t make it go away, no matter how much I try. I don’t want to think about how I must look to her now, red-faced and sobbing, still dressed, fucking myself on her bathroom floor. She doesn’t give me time to consider it. She is on her knees in front of me in a split second, her hands smoothing my hair away from my sweaty face. ‘’What do you need?’’ she asks, so earnestly I would cry, if I wasn’t crying already. 

‘’Please, please, please, please.’’ 

I hang my head, to let it rest on her shoulder, breathing in her perfume as I take shuddering breaths in between each word. ‘’I need- need- you, please, I can’t- I can’t.’’ Wanda’s hands grasp my hips, trying to slow my movement, and I almost scream in utter frustration. ‘’No, no, no, puh-lease,’’ is all I can get out, before she shushes me. ‘’Honey, take a deep breath, and tell me what you need, I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.’’ 

I force myself to stay still, to breathe deeply in, and out, and again. Until my body relaxes somewhat into Wanda. ‘’There you go, good girl,’’ she coos, reigniting the heat in my belly once more. ‘’I can’t do it right,’’ I whine into her neck, my fingers grasping at her arms, ‘’I can’t feel and think at the same time, and I can’t get it to feel right.’’ 

She smooths a soothing hand down my back, and I can feel her smile into my hair. ‘’It’s okay, baby. Did seeing Katie like that get you excited?’’ I whimper, and nod, too far gone to even be ashamed of admitting it. She guides me off of the toy, ignoring my whines, and removing the toy from the tiles. ‘’It made me excited too, made me want you just like Agatha was having her, would you like that, sweet girl?’’ She helps me to my feet with my hands in hers, and just for this moment, I decide, it doesn’t matter. She has admitted to me, so now I may admit to her. Just for tonight.  ‘’Please, I need you so badly.’’ I whisper, my eyes downcast to the blueish bathroom tiles, my fingers grasping tightly onto hers. 

Wanda has smiled at me in a thousand different ways. She has a smile for everything, for an exceptionally well performing report, for over hours at work, for when I make her breakfast just right, for when she wants to say I love you without saying it. But now her smile is devilish and predatory, and this is entirely foreign to me. 

Her lips curl up beautifully, her eyes shine with the infinite possibilities of her power over me. It’s the most dangerous smile she has ever given me, and yet I have never felt so safe. 

***

Wanda guides me from the bathroom into the bedroom, and onto the bed. She positions me on my knees, on top of the soft sheets. From there, I watch as she strips, the muscles in her arms becoming more pronounced when she reaches up to pull her shirt over her head. She slips the harness on like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like tying her shoelaces, or doing up the buttons of a coat. She needs my help to fit the base of the toy through the ring, and with the combined shakiness of my hands, and the slickness of the toy, it takes a few moments before it’s comfortably in place. She kisses me, hastily, like she herself is impatient too, and she asks me quietly ‘’are you sure about this? Remember to tap out when you want to stop.’’ I nod so quickly that I fear I might have given myself whiplash, and my enthusiasm makes Wanda smile. I hesitate for half a second, but then I speak up, ‘’don’t go easy on me- please, I think I just need- I don’t know, I just want you to be a bit rough.’’ 

Wanda smiles again, and this time it’s a cocky thing, all smugness and pride. My insides twist at the thought of what is to come and my head buzzes at the sight of Wanda like this, cool and confident, perfectly at ease, perfectly in control. She knows I will bend for her, in whichever way she asks me to. She knows I’m all hers, to with as she pleases. 

Her hand is warm and firm as she places it in the middle of my back, pushing down harshly to bend me over. I fall into position as though I was born to do this, my back arched prettily, legs spread as far as they can go. ‘’You really are gagging for it, aren’t you?’’ Wanda delights, so satisfied with herself that I can hear it in her voice. I don’t bother responding, I just whine and wiggle my ass for her. 

The smack comes as somewhat of a surprise, startling me so much that I yelp out loud, my voice reverberating through the room. Her hand instantly rubs smoothing circles over my stinging skin, and the motion has me moaning hotly, leaning back into her, sticking out my ass, asking for more. She delivers two more hits that leave me reeling, and somewhere in the distance I can hear her snicker. ‘’I’m going to have so much fun putting you over my lap someday, sweetheart.’’ 

And I would respond to her, tell her how much I want that, but then her fingers find my soaked cunt and my brain goes silent. Her intake of breath, along with the slick sounds her fingers make, are the only sounds in the room for a few moments, but when she sinks two fingers into me, I groan just a bit too loudly. I push back against her, impatient for more, but she’s stubborn. She fucks into me lazily for a while, her hand splayed out on my back, holding me in place. Then suddenly her fingers are gone, leaving me empty and wanting.

I hold my breath, waiting for her strap, waiting for her to give me what I want. But seconds pass, and then a few minutes, and suddenly, the dam in me breaks completely. My arms give way underneath me, and a sob tears at my throat. I struggle in her grasp, fighting against the hand on my back, holding me in place. ‘’Ah, ah, ah,’’ Wanda muses, placing both of her hands on my hips now, so harshly that her fingernails dig into my skin, ‘’that’s not the way to ask.’’ 

Tears find their way back to my eyes and drip hotly onto my chest. I wail into the sheets underneath me, ‘’please, please, please.’’ The words tumble over and into each other, blending together in a jumbled mess of tears and saliva, and muffled by the sheets. ‘’Pl-ease, I need- I- I- oh…’’

Wanda finally takes pity on me, sliding her strap into me in one thrust, the front of her thighs resting against my backside. Her skin is warm, but against my overheated clammy skin, it’s like she’s icy cold. I am so wet that she slides right in, with absolutely no resistance. She holds me there for a while, and I relish in the way we fit together, Her cock pressed snugly against that sweet spot inside of me. Then, slowly, one of her hands creeps up towards my scalp, sliding in between my hair and scratching softly. ‘’Detka,’’ she muses, her voice velvety smooth, ‘’remember that you asked for this.’’

Then her hand balls up into a fist, collecting a handful of my hair and pulling hard. At the same time, she thrusts her hips into me, so harshly that my full body lurches forward. I would have fallen if she didn’t have such a strong hold on me. Some part of it hurts, and I know I will feel her tomorrow, but for now the pain makes it feel just that much better, and when her cock rubs me in just the right way I howl from the pleasure of it. She gives me no time to adjust before she sets a punishing pace, laughing at the way I squirm under her. It is somehow both too much, and yet still not enough. 

Tears are steadily leaking from the corners of my eyes, and I’m having a hard time containing the saliva in my open, moaning mouth. Wanda delights in it, cooing at me with a slightly cruel tone of voice. ‘’You’re such a mess, baby. Is that really all it takes?’’ I can’t think, let alone string a sentence together. But she feels so good inside of me, and I need her to know this. In this position, I feel so totally enveloped by her, that it’s almost overwhelming. I suck in great lungfuls of air, trying to form any sounds that aren’t moans. I end up making some kind of wailing gasping noise, punctuated by a high-pitched squeak, as she tries to deliberately trip me up by giving me an extra rough thrust,

‘’Awww, what’s wrong, little dove? Is it too much? Do you need me to stop?’’ The hand in my hair releases its hold and my upper body, no longer supported by her strength, falls limply to the bed. She stays infuriatingly still inside of me, and I can hear her panting slightly as her hands cup my ass. When I try to move myself, they find their way back to my hips, holding me in place. ‘’Isn’t that better, dove? You were struggling so much, I think you’ve had enough.’’ 

I know she’s only teasing, but the threat of being left like this so horrifying that my tears begin to flow once more. ‘’No, no, no, no, please, please don’t.’’ I try to buck my hips into her, but I can’t move a millimetre with her holding me so tightly. She chuckles at my cries of frustration, clearly amused by this display of desperation. She pulls out lightly, just to tease me a bit, sliding her strap in and out in a slow and steady pace that leaves me reeling. I am so close, and I know that if she touched me in just the right way, it wouldn’t take long. 

In one final act of desperation I reach for one of the hands grasping my hips, and she must think I simply want to hold it, because she lets go of one of my hips to entangle her fingers with mine. Carefully I guide her around my body, flatting her hand so that her palm is flush against my skin. I find the spot with ease, and lay my hand over hers, pressing her into my lower stomach, where I know she can now feel herself inside of me. 

She swears loudly, and she moves experimentally to feel the bulge of her cock. ‘’Please,’’ I whimper, ‘’you feel so good inside of me, please, please, I need more.’’ I expect for this to break her, for her to finally give me what I want, but if anything it gives her more restraint. She relishes in the feel of her cock bulging in my lower stomach, I can tell by the way she presses down on me, and increases the force behind her thrusts. She refuses to speed up though, simply pulling out languidly, before thrusting back in with considerable force behind it. It’s sloppy, and on every other thrust her strap slips out and slides over my clit as she tries to push back into me. This act alone brings me right to the edge, the feel of the slick ridges of her cock over my aching clit, pulls the knot in my abdomen ever tighter. It’s so, so very close to what I need, but it’s still not enough. 

The frustration of the night, combined with the fears surrounding Wanda’s trip and the painful edging she’s putting me through, finally become too much. I let myself cry in earnest, feebly trying to buck my hips into her, trashing in her arms as she holds me close to her. I can’t take this any more, I can’t think, I can hardly breathe. 

‘’Say something nice,’’ Wanda muses, amusement clear in her voice, ‘’and I’ll think about letting you come.’’

‘’Mo-mmy-‘’ I whimper, no longer able to contain myself, too far gone to think straight, I echo Kate’s desperate plea from easier. Behind me, Wanda stills, her grip on me loosens, and I find room to throw my hips back, fucking myself on her cock. She doesn’t try to stop me. One of her hands finds its way to my throat, pulling me up slowly until I’m flush with her front, her breasts pressing against the bare skin of my back. ‘’Say that again,’’ she whispers, her breath hot against the shell of my ear. 

I’m so ready to come, I try to spread my legs, to slide my own hand down to rub at my clit, but Wanda is too quick for me. With her free hand she catches my wrist, and she holds my body in position with the combined grip on my throat and her thighs holding mine steady. ‘’I said, say that again,’’ she hisses, giving my throat an extra squeeze. 

‘’Mommy,’’ I whine, ‘’Please, I wanna- I- I need-‘’ 

‘’I know, little dove,’’ Wanda coos, pulling out of me fully, and guiding me to lay on my back, ‘’do you want mommy to make it all better?’’ Somehow, when she repeats it back to me the reality of what I’ve done begins to set in, somewhere in the back of my mind my anxiety kick-starts. Now there’s a battle waging in my mind, between shame and desire. But with Wanda’s soft hands on my skin, and the still slick strap bobbing between her thighs, my shame buckles for my desire. My face flushes, and I shake my hair in front of my face to hide myself, but I nod, and hum my ascent. Yes, yes, I do want her to make it better. 

She pulls a pillow from the pile at the top of the headboard, and manoeuvres it to fit under my hips. She looks magnificent above me, with flushed cheeks and a heaving chest. She’s nude, save for the harness around her hips, and I cannot believe that she is all mine. Some of her flyaway hairs stick to her sweaty brow, and I get the overwhelming urge to brush smooth my hand over them and press a kiss on her forehead afterwards. And I would have reached up to do it, but then she’s between my legs again. The strap, now slightly cold, but still slick, slides up and over my clit, and I am instantly and forcibly reminded of the intense burning heat in my gut. I was so close to the edge only moments ago, and as she warms up her strap, I am pushed right back towards that edge. 

When she’s ready, she holds my legs up and open for her. The tops of my thighs touch my stomach, and I squirm at the feel of my tummy being on display like this. I cringe at the thought of what I must look like, and Wanda must notice because she frowns slightly, her brows drawing together in disapproval. One hand leaves my thigh to cradle my cheek, and she leans in for a lazy kiss, open-mouthed and messy. When she pulls back, her hand finds its way back to my thigh, spreading me open. ‘’You’re stunning every day, my love,’’ she says, sliding the tip of her strap into me, ‘’but when you’re spread like this, ready for my cock, you’re absolutely ravishing.’’ 

When she slides her cock in all the way, she stays there for just a few moments, resting her forehead against mine. We let out a synchronized sound of contentment. I am beyond relieved to feel her back inside of me, the sense of completion is almost overwhelming. This quiet moment doesn’t last, however, because soon I am squirming against her once more. I grind my hips deliberately, feeling her moving in me. I look down to my lower stomach, where I can just make out the bulge of her cock. And without looking, I can tell she’s watching it too. 

Finally, finally, Wanda’s restraint gives out. Using her grip on my thighs as leverage, she pushes into me harshly, driving all the air in my lungs clean out of me. The feel of it is heavenly, and I want to arch my back, contort my face and howl with the pleasure of it. But Wanda can see my face now, and her view of my body makes me uncomfortable. I fight to stay in control of my reaction, fight to make myself look pretty, or at least presentable. Wanda, ever the observer, notices within seconds. ‘’Ah, ah, ah,’’ she chides, ‘’none of that, let it go now, dove. You’re safe with me, I’ve got you, just let go.’’ Mercifully, she leans forward, covering my face with her sheet of long hair, giving me a respite from the ugly feeling of being known. There, under the cover of her hair, and the safety of the crook of her neck, I allow myself to let go. 

In this new position, she’s resting most of her body weight on me, and she puts considerable force behind her thrusts. My moans are broken, and desperate, my voice cracking as I beg her to ruin me. I lose track of what precisely I’m saying, but Wanda seems to love it. With easy access to her neck, I lick and suck and bite to my heart's content. She turns her head slightly to make it easier for me to reach, and it’s clear that she’s enjoying herself from the way she shudders every time I run my tongue over the hard muscle in her neck. She moans softly when I bite down her tender skin, not hard enough to make her bleed, just enough to create a pretty red mark. Her moans make my head spin with want. The knowledge of being desired by her, is more erotic to me than any kind of physical touch could be. Wanda Maximoff moaning above me feels like heaven on earth. 

It doesn’t take long before Wanda’s movements become more frenzied, and I wonder if she, like me, is impatient for my orgasm to arrive. It’s only when she shifts our position, lowering one of my legs slightly to give herself a better angle, that I realize what is going on. She moans loudly and almost obscenely into my ear, and I wonder how I ever managed to live without having experienced this. Heat, like nothing I’ve felt before, erupts throughout my body. From the very tips of my toes to the ends of my hair, I am utterly incandescent. 

Her moans stutter in their rhythm, and I know what’s going to happen. I hold her tightly to me, my mouth on her neck, my legs locked firmly behind her back. ‘’Oh- oh God.’’ She keens, ‘’I- oh- I’m sorry honey, I think I’m gonna-‘’ I detach my mouth from the hickey I’m steadily developing at her pulse point for just long enough to moan out my response, ‘’Come inside me, please, mommy,’’ I plead, my voice obscenely high-pitched and whiney, ‘’you feel so good, please- please.’’

Wanda comes first, and it’s a marvellous fall from grace. She grasps at me, her body pushing into mine so firmly that it feels as though she’s trying to merge us into one. Her moans so close to my ear, and so desperate and needy, finally push me over the edge. My whole body seizes up so forcefully that I worry I might tear a muscle. I hold onto Wanda for dear life as she fucks me through my peak, her cheek pressed to mine as she rides out her own pleasure. 

It takes a while for us to come back to ourselves, both still reeling from our release. Wanda stills inside of me, propping herself up to come nose to nose with me. She’s laughing, but I feel beyond exhausted. Still, I encourage her gently to rest her full body weight on me and to keep her cock inside of me for a while. We snuggle like that, not speaking, just breathing each other in. My hand finds her hair and I scratch her scalp softly with my nails. My anxiety is creeping up on slowly, replacing the relaxation in my body steadily with that too familiar uneasy gut feeling. 

Even in this state, Wanda picks up on the change in me. I don’t know if I have given her any physical cues, or if she can somehow sense the change in energy, but she notices nonetheless. Without further ado, she makes us get up. I wince at the rawness of my body when she pulls her cock out of me, and Wanda laughs when she sees the state of her neck in the bathroom mirror. 

She draws us a bath, throwing in some lavender scented oil, and we both clamber into it on unsteady legs. We wash each other with soft cloths, and talk through some of our experiences of the night. Wanda has a lot of questions for me, which I understand. She wants to know why I didn’t go to her first when I was frustrated, and why I retreated into my head so much when we came face to face in such an intimate moment. But I’m too tired to open those wounds up now, and even the soft light of the bathroom feels too overstimulating on my tired head. So, kind as ever, Wanda accepts that today is not the day, and she merely draws me back to her chest, singing her lullaby to me as we hold each other close.

When the water gets cold, and my head feels a bit clearer, I hop out of the bath to dress myself in something cosy and warm. I have to dash through the bathroom, wrapped in my towel, to grab some clothes from my dresser. I decide against pyjamas, considering we still have guests. So, instead, I settle for a well fitting pair of black joggers and a wonderfully soft roll neck top. According to the clock on Wanda’s night stand, an hour and ten minutes have passed since I first made my way upstairs. 

I wonder what everyone else has been doing in the time we’ve been gone, and I wonder too if they know what we’ve been up to. But, I reason with myself, even if they know it won’t be a big deal to them, considering Agatha fucked Kate at the dinner table like it was the most normal thing in the world. 

I am beginning to feel the lack of dinner, though, and my stomach growls loudly when I re-enter the bathroom. Wanda has drained the bath by now, but she’s turning the shower head on. ‘’Aren’t you coming downstairs with me?’’ I ask, as I watch her step carefully back into the tub. ‘’I just want to wash my hair quickly, dove,’’ she says over the sound of falling water. ‘’You can go, I’ll join you soon.’’

***

I leave Wanda in the bathroom to take her shower, and head downstairs groggily in search of tea and a snack. I’m quite sure everyone left, because the house is dead silent, but I’m in for a surprise when I walk into the living room intending to pick up a blanket to stave off the chill running through me. Kate occupies the sofa, laying down with my favourite blanket covering her. Pepper and Maria are nowhere to be found, but Agatha is there, reclining in one of the armchairs, a paperback folded double in her hands, her glasses once more perched at the edge of her nose. 

She looks up when I enter the room, and suddenly I’m hyper aware of my messed up hair, and I’m grateful to Wanda for helping me to clean up. I wouldn’t be able to bear it if I had come down with my tear streaked makeup. Still, Agatha smiles at me as though I had come down looking freshly fucked. 

‘’I bet that was a weight off your shoulders, huh hon?’’ I stare at her blankly, my brain too sluggish to comprehend her words. She laughs, ‘’well, Katie and I went up to the guest bathroom to freshen up after our little session, and it sounds like you two had a marvelous time.’’ Mortified, I raise my hands up to my face to hide myself from her. It was bad enough that Wanda heard that outburst, but the knowledge that Agatha heard, and not just her but Kate too, makes my throat constrict painfully. 

Kate shifts on the sofa, turning her face outward and towards me. She’s clearly sleepy, her eyes half closed. ‘’She’s not teasing you,’’ she mumbles, ‘’I know it feels like it, but she isn’t.’’ She yawns hugely, turning over again, and settling the blanket over herself more securely. ‘’That must have felt nice to finally let out.’’

I shrug half-heartedly, embarrassed tears prickling in my eyes. Agatha rises from her chair, plopping her book down onto the seat, and whipping off her glasses. ‘’Come on, we should let Katie rest.’’ With a firm but gentle hand on my lower back, she steers me towards the door, leaving no room for argument. I don’t bother trying to fight it, and I allow myself to be guided through the living room into the bright LED lighted kitchen. 

When she lets go of me, I move away from her, hugging myself tightly, wishing Wanda would hurry up already. She leans back comfortably against the kitchen counter, and I feel myself shrink under her gaze. I want to turn around and walk away, or snap at her for looking me with those all-knowing eyes. I hold myself securely, shielding myself from attacks that won’t come, trying to breathe through the discomfort of being known. 

‘’I know that you feel dirty’’ Agatha says finally, breaking this awful silence, ‘’you’re ashamed, and you’re afraid of these feelings you can’t make sense of.’’ She steps closer to me, a strong hand outstretched, like a hunter approaching a startled deer in the forest. ‘’One day you’ll learn to proud of these feelings, and it will give you the peace you’ve always craved. But only if you open yourself up, and let us help you.’’

She’s so close to me that I can feel the heat radiating off of her body. She smells like lavender, and the veins of her hand stick out like rivers carving a path through land. Involuntarily, my eyes flit down to her trousers, where her bulge is still visible. A shiver runs through me when I recall Kate writhing on her lap, Agatha’s strong hands holding onto her, delighting in her pleasure, in the way she begged and the words she used. Unashamed, ecstatic, and free. 

Fresh tears dribble slowly down my cheeks, and instinctively I turn to face away from her, but she’s too quick for me. In half a heartbeat she has me pressed tightly against her, one hand cradling the back of my head, the other resting on my lower back. She rocks me lightly, shushing me, in a way that is too clinical to be motherly. Still, this display of gentleness from her shocks me so much that I don’t even fight against it, instead I welcome the wave of tears that rolls over me. ‘’I’m disgusting,’’ I manage finally between the tears and the heaving breaths I have to take, ‘’I don’t know what’s wrong with me.’’

She lets go of me now, the moment of affection passing just as quickly as it came. She’s back to scrutinizing me, but now there’s something like pity in her eyes. It makes the underside of my skin itch. ‘’Why do you think you’re disgusting?’’ 

The notepad is back, arrows and lines and squiggles and stars all over the paper. I didn’t even see where it came from. The lights are too bright, and the counters smell like lemon. It makes me feel somewhat nauseous. I look at the black ink when I speak, deliberately avoiding her gaze. 

‘’It’s not natural.’’ 

Agatha snorts derisively, ‘’depriving children of a loving and nurturing relationship to their parents isn’t natural. This response is nothing but natural. Your brain is protecting you, in the absence of a protector. You are trying to fill in the gaps, in the only way you know how.’’ I hug my chest again, noticing how little comfort I find in my own cold hands, now I’ve felt Agatha’s warm body against mine. ‘’What are you so afraid of?’’ She asks, her pen skirting over the paper. I like to imagine she’s writing my answer down for me.

‘’She’s going to think that I’m weak, and hate me for being so needy. I can’t let this out, because then I won’t know how to go back.’’

Her eyes twinkle when she looks up at me from her paper, the lines by her eyes contracting as she smiles. ‘’Have you spoken to Wanda about this?’’ 

My head hurts, and I can’t tell if it’s because of the crying, or the bright lights bouncing off of the white marble counter tops. I shake my head, my fingers picking at the skin around my nails, it’s already bleeding.

‘’Do you think you believe she won’t accept this side of you, because you don’t accept it?’’ I close my eyes, agitation returning to me. I’m too tired for this, I’m too tired for anything. ‘’I think you’ve made your judgement already. You clearly think that’s the case.’’

‘’I do,’’ she says, not the slightest bit of venom in her voice, though I had expected it. ‘’Clearly you loathe yourself so much that you’re depriving yourself of any form of love and acceptance she tries to give to you.’’ There is no malice behind this statement, but it still stings, and I flinch as though she has struck me. My nose has closed up from the crying, and I have to breathe through my mouth in an effort to steady myself, trying to hold back the next wave of tears. Agatha is surprisingly patient as I try to collect myself enough to be able to get some words out.

‘’I- I want to accept it.’’ I begin, my voice thick from the tears, ‘’I want it so bad, more than anything else, and I never thought I had an issue with accepting love, but- but…’’ I trail off, shrugging my shoulders half-heartedly, ‘’I don’t know, I’m just so scared uncovering all of this because if she doesn’t like me like this, I don’t know if I could bear it.’’

Agatha nods sagely, patting my arm in a vaguely comforting way. She reaches behind me for the paper towels, ripping off two sheets and handing them to me, so I can dry my eyes and blow my nose. ‘’You need to calm down a bit, alright, hon? I’m going to make us some nice tea, and then you’re going to listen to what I have to say.’’

There is no room for ifs or buts, so I just wipe my tears, and nod along. She kindly gives me a second to sort myself out, turning her back on me to put the kettle on. When my tears are finally dry, she sets a steaming mug of tea in front of me, and directs me to sit at the bar stool. She sits right next to me, so close that our knees touch. Her glasses are back on her nose now, and I’m grateful for the mug because it gives me something to do with my hands. 

‘’A mother complex in sapphic women is often viewed as repulsive by outsiders,’’ she begins, her voice reassuring and gentle, ‘’whilst a father complex in heterosexual women is very widely accepted, and people don’t bat an eye at a girl who calls her bed partner daddy,’’ she says, giving me a significant look, ‘’but a girl calling her partner mommy? They can’t cope with it. As a society we’ve been a bit desensitized by the word daddy, because we’ve been taught to accept it in a sexual context. The word mommy hasn’t got the same treatment, so it’s still viewed very much in the context of a mother and child. People find it especially inflammatory when a younger and older woman respectively engage in such a dynamic.’’ 

She lays a warm hand on my knee, and my skin burns with the contact. ‘’What you feel is normal, your inner child has been so severely neglected that she’s screaming for love and affection. You don’t need your mother, you need your mommy, and those are two entirely separate people.’’ 

I hang my head, letting out a shaky breath, ‘’I’m so tired of taking care of myself all the time,’’ I admit, my voice shaking. Agatha rubs her hand in gentle circles on my back, ‘’so let go, and trust that we will catch you.’’ Her use of we doesn’t escape me, but I’m too exhausted to question her on this. Her words sound so sweet, and so promising, I want to sink into her and let this all go. I can’t though, I know I can’t give into this temptation. My resolve is breaking, I can feel it, and it’s so hard to not give into her. A compromise then, however much the truth can be a compromise. 

‘’I really want to,’’ I begin, and I can already tell that she knows exactly where this is going. Maybe she knew where this day would end when she cornered me in the kitchen for the first time. ‘’But I can’t let myself do this, because I think it’ll ruin me.’’ Agatha gives me a sceptical look, ‘’you’re full of shit, did you know that?’’ I laugh, before I realize how serious her tone is. ‘’You’re going against your nature, and it’s going to end up hurting a lot more than it already is.’’ I shift uncomfortably in my seat, staring at the laces of her shoes. ‘’you don’t know that.’’ 

She laughs humourlessly, ‘’Which one of us has the PhD, hon?’’ I pull a face, unable to contain myself any longer. ‘’Are you this rude to paying clients?’’ This makes her smile, the curve of her lips breaking the icy cold mask that was previously there. ‘’No, lucky for you, you’re not paying me.’’

‘’I just don’t know how to accept it,’’ I blurt out suddenly, unable to bear this awful tension, knowing she disproves of my choices. ‘’She’s going to think I’m a freak, and she’ll hate me for it, and then I’ll lose her. But I want to let go just like Kate can, I want that so bad. I don’t know how to do that without terrifying Wanda.’’ 

‘’You underestimate her,’’ Agatha says, ‘’you saw how she was with Pepper and Kate.’’ 

‘’That’s different,’’ I say evasively, making Agatha roll her eyes. ‘’How is that different?’’ I shrug, ‘’it’s one thing to watch someone else do it, it’s another thing entirely to do it yourself.’’ Apparently that’s notebook worthy, because she scribbles something down messily, the pen excreting a bit more ink than is necessary, staining the paper with a dark blob of ink. ‘’I’ve known Wanda a lot longer than you have, and I’ve known her intimately. She’s insecure, and stubborn and just as afraid of you to admit it to you, but she needs someone to take care of.’’ 

I stare at the jet black blob of ink, focused on how it seeps into the paper. It bleeds into the thin white sheet like blood sinking into snow. A part of my brain itches with excitement, screaming at me to listen to Agatha. Another part of begins to loosen its grip on the doubt. 

‘’If it takes me banging your heads together to make you understand, I will.’’ She says, and I have a feeling that this isn’t a joke. ‘’In the meantime, let’s start small, with something you already know, but that isn’t fully in your comfort zone yet.’’ She pats my knee and smiles at me In a somewhat condescending manner. ‘’When we get back to the living room you’re going to kneel for Wanda, I know you enjoy that, so that should be a nice way to get this ball rolling.’’

I open my mouth to protest, several urgent questions rushing to the forefront of my mind, but she’s way ahead of me, holding up a finger to silence me. ‘’None of that, this isn’t a request, dear. Now, we really should find Wanda, she’s taking an awfully long time up there.’’ She’s up now, and peeking out the door, listening for movement upstairs. 

‘’H- how did you know, about the- the kneeling thing.’’ I say weakly. ‘’Hmm?’’ she hums vaguely, still alertly waiting for any signs of life from the upper story of the house. ‘’Oh, Wanda told me ages ago now. She said you were mad for it.’’

‘’Oh.’’ I say dumbly, thinking about Wanda and Agatha chatting about me in such a casual way. I wonder what else she has told her. The thought of it all makes my face burn.

A few more moments pass of the older woman standing guard at the door, before she finally shows a sign of life again. ‘’Wanda’s coming,’’ she warns, pulling my half drunk mug of tea from my hands, and dumping it out into the sink alongside hers. Hardly 10 seconds later I hear her footsteps on the stairs, and I can tell she’s about to walk past the kitchen, but Agatha calls out to her. 

‘’There you are,’’ Wanda says from the open doorway, and I’m so relieved to see her again, smiling and happy to see me, even after what happened. She leans against the frame, her hair wet and her shirt damp at the neck, smiling like everything is fine. It gives me hope that maybe everything is fine, and that Agatha is right after all. 

Agatha moves past us, muttering something about Pepper and Maria, and an unexpected zoom call. When the door falls closed behind her, Wanda stretches out her arms towards me, inviting me in for a hug. She smells like shampoo, and fresh laundry, and it’s the most comforting smell in the world to me now. She holds me tightly, one hand on my back, and another on the back of my head. We stand there for a while, silently swaying in each other’s arms. I don’t want to let go, so I hold on even when she begins to speak. ‘’Are you sure you don’t want to talk about what happened?’’ she asks, in a voice so gentle that I can’t even bring myself to imagine that she hates me for this. I shake my head as much as I can in this position, and mumble into the crook of her neck, ‘’no, please not tonight.’’ My voice cracks a little bit and I curse myself for this weakness when I feel her squeeze me a little tighter.

The voices from the living room have increased in volume, raucous laughter coming through the closed door. Just like that, the spell is broken, and we let go of each other. I yawn slightly, rubbing at my eyes. ‘’Do you want to go back to bed?’’ Wanda asks, surveying me with a cocked head. ‘’No, it’s okay, let’s go see the others and if I’m too tired I can always go to bed anyway.’’

*** 

Finally, we move to the living room, where Pepper and Maria have returned and are now laughing over some pictures on Maria’s phone. Kate has moved from the couch and is curled up comfortably between Pepper’s legs, kneeling on the plush carpet. They all smile when we enter, and I hide myself behind Wanda bashfully, flushing at the thought of Agatha or Kate having told them what they heard. They go right back to their conversation, though, and Wanda steers me towards where Pepper is sitting. I can feel Agatha’s eyes on me, and I remember the demand she made of me. Instantly, my heart picks up its pace and I can feel my hands beginning to sweat.

I’m saved from having to make the request, however, because Wanda notices how I haven’t sat down even when she indicated for me to do. She looks between me and Kate, who’s snuggled up close to Pepper. Then, she leans down to whisper in my ear ‘’do you want to sit up here, or kneel with Katie?’’ 

I fidget slightly, making eye contact, first with Agatha, who gives me a slow nod, and then with Kate, who’s looking up at me with a welcoming smile. ‘’It’s nice down here, you know?’’ she says, her voice friendly and teasing. And her encouragement, combined with Wanda’s reassuring squeeze to my hand, is enough to embolden me to lower myself down to my knees, even with everybody watching me. 

Wanda’s fingers find their way into my hair, Pepper and Maria continue with their laughter, Agatha winks at me, her smirk clearly showing her approval, and Kate’s fingers creep towards mine across the carpet, intertwining our fingers and squeezing in a gesture of sisterhood. It feels like she’s saying, see? Isn’t this nice? 

And it is, it really is. I squeeze back, and hope she knows what I mean.

━━━━━━━━━ ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯ ━━━━━━━━━

Taglist:

@swirlofsnow @emeraldevan @ichala @romeo-the-cactus @lainjupi @lissaaaa145 @princessprudy @333hhm @im-my-hope @inluvwithfictionalwomen @imthenatynat @imnotawitch @gay-trash-in-a-paperbag @messuhp @loudsharkface @ripofflizzie @alwaysbimyself @how-to-disappearrr @s1ut4nat @cookiesimpt

Next chapter ➵➵

[waywardsummoner46]

Evader of the Endless

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x (?)reader, future all Endless x reader (maybe)

Summary: “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), Evader of the Endless, Challenger of Ancient Laws, it has been no easy feat locating you. Prepare yourself for each of us, we are quite unforgiving of those that dare defy our ways.”

Word Count: 1754

Warnings: Nothing extreme yet. Future violence, gore, blood, dub/con, mind manipulation, imprisonment, neglect, abuse and definitely way more and worse

A/N: The Sandman has taken over my life, help. Expect more of this, Eternity, and an Our Beautiful Girl part two within the next few weeks. Let me know what you think and be sure to tag along, this one will be intense.

“So, let me get this straight, you think that there is some sort of mystical higher power out there that hasn’t presented itself because… why?”

  You sighed exasperatedly. “That is not what I said and you know it, Gabriel. All I said was humans suck, so if there is a higher race, I don’t blame them for not showing themselves, you know?”

  Throwing his head back with laughter, Gabriel struggled to understand your logic. 

  “Don’t laugh at me, Gabe. What I’m saying is completely sensible,” you pouted playfully. When his laughter never ceased you raised an amused brow and crossed your arms challengingly. “I can’t help but feel as though you aren’t taking my words seriously.”

  Only after you hit him did he stop laughing. “I’m sorry, I really am but that is seriously some dodgy logic, (Y/N).”

  “Oh yeah? Enlighten me then, oh-great-one, how is it dodgy?”

  In typical Gabe fashion, his posture immediately straightened, his jacket was dusted off and his throat cleared quite dramatically. You barely withheld a sigh of affectionate frustration. “First of all, if there was a more intelligent race than us they would most definitely either invade or make themselves known because of how much humans suck. They would undoubtedly assert their superiority over us and, honestly, would probably make fun of us. I know this because… well… I’ve lied to you, (Y/N). I am actually a martian,” he jokingly raised his hands and went to tickle you but thanks to your quick reflexes, you evaded his attacks.

  “I was genuinely willing to listen to you, then. You’ve ruined it now, well done, you idiot.”

  Poking his tongue out at you in retaliation,  you decided not to engage in any further unintelligent conversation with someone who won’t do the same. As a result, you declared you were going to get another round of drinks as you needed to get away from his brainless arguments (by now, you were used to them so you didn’t mind that much). 

  Gabriel was an extremely questionable person but he was a good one, nonetheless. Having known the guy since you were eleven, suffice to say he was one of your closest, if not the closest, friend you had. Unfortunately, life went by and you both went your separate ways to your individual colleges - it was only now that you’d finally met up. Words couldn’t describe how happy you were once you realised the ease in which you both fell back to your usual dynamic. 

  It was that reason that you’d got on the subject of your otherworldly opinions; randomly, aliens were brought up and the conversation just stemmed from there but you made a solid argument with solid beliefs.

  Hypothetically speaking, if aliens or beings of a higher power or even Gods of old myths exist, why would they reveal themselves to an already dying race? Humans were slowly killing themselves off anyway so why would they either try and redeem the irredeemable or conquer the slowly dying? Like pieces in a puzzle, the logic coexisted in your brain and you felt a childish sense of pride with your hypothesis (it was also highly entertaining garnering a reaction from people). 

  However, at the end of the day, the entirety of it was a fun little theory and while it does bring you some comfort to think that humans aren’t the most intellectual beings in the universe, your realistic brain realised that nothing would ever come of it. 

  “Alright, my darling? How can I help you?” The friendly barman asked you as you sat on the barstool. Smiling at him, you requested the same again and nodded gratefully when he went about it.

 Life was very monotonous. It was fun and full of pleasant surprises but monotonous, all the same. You loved it, though; especially the familiarity of a pub’s atmosphere. Like a warm blanket, the blurred voices of the pub’s regulars danced in your ears and as you glanced around the bar, a small, fond smile at how at peace everybody seemed inside of the White Horse.

  There, your smile remained as still as frozen as a painting… but then, you saw him.

Him in all his otherworldly glory. Him with the beautiful contrast of his black clothes against his pale skin. Him who looked so out of place in the small tavern. Him who carried himself with the self-respect of a king… and him, whose gaze was as piercing as any dagger, who was looking directly at you. 

  That realisation snapped you out of your unabashed admiration and bewilderment long enough for you to turn away and back to the bar. Biting your lip, you cursed your staring and lack of social awareness; the embarrassment of having been caught churned in your gut and you did not dare ponder on how he felt. 

  Glass hit wood and you raised your head. “Here you go, love,” the bartender kindly said.

  Unfortunately for you, your eyes were still a bit dissociated and he noticed. “Everything alright?”

  Immediately, you jolted to attention. “Yes! Yes, sorry, everything’s fine…” Trailing off, you glanced behind you again to where the striking man had been (sighing in relief and disappointment when you found him gone) and the bartender followed your gaze. 

  He didn’t comment on your suddenly flattened demeanour but he did pat your back with something akin to support. Smiling gratefully, you grabbed the drinks and turned to make your way back to your table. 

  Halfway was about all you managed before the glasses fell from your hands and crashed to the floor with a deafening shatter. 

  The man was… sat… at your table, chatting idly to Gabe although all of his attention was seemingly on you. He also seemed to be the only one who had even registered you dropping the glasses as no one else had even batted an eyelid at your humiliating lack of self control. Bravely, you tore your eyes away from the man and looked around the room once more; everyone was either extremely kind or unfathomably oblivious to their surroundings. Good to know you weren’t the only one with no public awareness.

  Suddenly, cool sensations could be felt in each of your hands and your eyes nearly left their sockets when you beheld the glasses, the fully intact glasses, resting innocently in your hands. Beneath furrowed brows, you also noted how there was no liquid or broken glass anywhere on the floor leaving you to not only be confused, but slightly scared of what was happening to you.

  “You dare to challenge us so, little challenger?”  

  If you hadn’t been so hyper fixated on the surreality of your situation and more focused on your distinct and newfound affiliation for this man, you probably would have fainted on the spot. You may still do that, except it would be because of the barely concealed threat within his words you how erratic your breathing was becoming.

  A tickling sensation across your face temporarily calmed you. It was light and  danced across your face like dandelions floating in a breeze. Once your rapid blinking stopped, you noticed, through increasingly heavy eyelids, that the man was now standing away from the table and had a dark, grainy substance in his hand, Gabe was slouched in his seat sleeping and snoring lightly.

   Sand. This nutjob had blown sand in your face if his lowering hand from his mouth signified anything and it was causing you to grow terrifyingly tired. Was it mixed with some sort of air-bourne sedatives? Did those even exist? 

  Your growing panic didn’t seem to be lost on him before you, as he glided effortlessly over to you and began circling you. You were the prey and he was, undoubtedly, the predator. 

  Luckily, you still possessed enough coherent thought to notice his hand raising once more so you staggered backwards with the instability of a newborn deer and fell back against the bar. “No! Don’t blow anymore of that… stuff at me,” you mumbled weakly through drooping eyelashes. “What did you do to my friend?” 

  Onyx flooded your already shrouded vision. Hopelessness overwhelmed you so you thought it best to look in the eyes of the one who’d started all of this. Swallowing your remaining cowardice your lethargic head tilted up and up. Up to the almost ethereal look of his cloak, then to an entrancing light emanating from a gorgeous ruby that hung from his neck. In your peripheral, you registered his pouch of sand but that’s not what held your attention. No, it was the grotesque, skeletal, utterly ghastly mask that he now wore upon his head.

   There was no way to describe it apart from nightmarishly haunting. It was not dissimilar to a gas mask except, the eye sockets were just a little too wide, too red, and the “canister” resembled someone’s spine too much for you to even begin to comprehend just what had presented itself to you. 

  “Please… don’t hurt me,” you whispered. Tears now flowed freely down your cheeks. The fear you’d felt before now multiplied tenfold as your eyes shut for the final time, leaving you blind to his movements. 

  Bafflingly, there were no sounds of rustling fabric or distorted breaths from beyond the mask. In fact, there were no sounds at all. The creep was toying with you, how dare he take advantage of your vulnerability? Degrade you even more by delighting in your helplessness? 

  More grains of sand fluttered across your face and you quickly found yourself descending deeper into the abyss of sleep. At least you won’t be able to feel the pain, right? 

  Stuck on the bridge between consciousness and unconsciousness, you felt an arm snake beneath your knees and another supporting your shoulders. The distinct feeling of your head lolling into something that felt worryingly like the junction of someone’s neck and shoulder would’ve caused you to snap out of your exhaustion but, for the life of you, no effort to wake was rewarded. If anything, you plunged further into sleep and into a realm that should protect you. Instead, you had an inkling that whatever awaited you in sleep would not be for your benefit.

  “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), Evader of the Endless, Challenger of Ancient Laws, it has been no easy feat locating you. Prepare yourself for each of us, we are quite unforgiving of those that dare defy our ways.”

  You never heard his warning, sleep had already overtaken you by then. When you awake, who knows what will happen?

[fandom-nursery]

Diavolo agere headcanons

Regresses between ages 4-8

Voluntary regressor 

Regresses as often as his work schedule will allow although he rarely feels like the amount of time he gets to be little is enough 

He wishes that he was able to regress whenever he wanted to but his duties as the demon lord get in the way frequently

He is typically a very energetic and enthusiastic little and loves to play! 

Incredibly talkative since he doesn't need to watch what he says while little and can happily to chatter on about all his interests and never have to be quiet or worry about how his words will affect how he is seen as a ruler by his subjects 

He can be a little bit spoiled and gets very bratty when he doesn’t get his way. He grew up as a prince and is used to people doing what he wants 

He craves attention. Growing up without a mom and with a distant father who was quick to be strict with him he didn’t get a lot of it and so will do everything he can to get it now even if it means he has to occasionally act out 

He hates being in trouble so much. He hates to disappoint and doesn’t like it when people are mad at him  

He gets lonely very easily and this results in him being a bit clingy. He likes to be able to see you 

When he’s big his memories of his regression get a little bit fuzzy. He will often admit things to you while small only to not remember telling you once he’s big again 

He will not nap. He gets to regress so rarely and he doesn't want to waste a second of the time he has with sleep no matter how tired he is. He can sleep when he’s big 

He is a little big for most to carry but he loves being in someone's arms and receiving physical affection any way he can so he would be more than happy to be carried if you are able to 

He is up for anything most of the time while little and loves to try new things including art, pretend play, and movie nights

He is very fond of novelty rubber ducks and has started a collection to keep him company in the bath 

He loves to go out and do things. He can’t do much in the devildom due to his status however, he has been able to go do things in the human world with you (and an additional glamor charm barbatos and lucifer both insisted on)

He loves animals and is enraptured by zoos and aquariums 

Diavolo is very active and games like catch and tag are a lot of fun for him. 

His favorite thing about being little are the moments where he gets to be held and cuddled and told that he is good and loved and that you will always be there to take care of him when he needs you 

Big fan of spaghetti and meatballs! Which is great because it’s a very easy meal to hide his veggies in since he usually throws a bit of a fit about eating them 

He gets very messy while little. When he’s big he has to constantly be aware of his appearance but when he’s little all of that pressure goes away and he can be messy without any consequences 

He can not resist purchasing toys for himself and Barbatos and Lucifer frequently have to talk him out of buying anymore. He is a real sucker for any stuffed animal or toy that he thinks looks lonely. Stories like corduroy and the velveteen rabbit really get to him 

He can not be left alone for too long. He spent so much of his childhood alone and while regressed he hates feeling lonely for even a second. If he’s left alone he will very quickly become sad and instantly go searching for someone. If he can’t find them right away he will often be overwhelmed with sadness and loneliness and end up sitting down and sobbing until someone comes and comforts him 

Barbatos insisted he have clothing outside his normal attire for the times he is regressed that can get dirty and be played in without getting ruined. Diavolo has no complaints about this although he can sometimes get fussy about which of his play clothes he wants to wear 

Barbatos and Lucifer have both known about his regression for a very long time. He doesnt hide anything from them usually and he was sort of hoping that if they knew they would volunteer to be his caregiver 

For a long time Barbatos and Lucifer were his caregiver however they are both so busy that between their work schedule and his he almost never got the time to regress. When you come into the picture and offer to help out with taking care of him he is over the moon  

He doesn't plan on using parental titles for you while he’s regressed and it takes you both by surprise when he does.

[alyxdoeswrite]

High times|| John "Soap" MacTavish x reader

Warnings: Illusions to sex, drug use (weed), my horrible knowledge on the military,swearing, not proof read A/N: happy (late) 420!this is the first time ive wrote since like 2019 so sorry if its ass. might write a part 2 to this!

Word count:1.9k

!!GIF is not mine!!

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It was a late night on base, and while everyone was sleeping, you decided tonight was the perfect time to light up. you had just gotten back to base after a particularly difficult mission and decided it would be the best way to relax. after missions 141 would usually head to a local pub and knock back some beers to relax and unwind after working their ass off. you were never really a drinker. you would have a drink here and there but never quite liked getting drunk. you preferred smoking. you were an experienced smoker. In high school, you were the classic stoner, had even sold a little bit back in those days. you knew every trick in the book and used them all now to not get caught. your smoking days didn't end once you joined the military. it was normal for you to sneak out to go smoke real quick. you stuck with joints for easy access and they were easier to sneak but now and then you would smoke out of a piece, most of the time it was your beloved bong. it wasn't often you smoke in your room out of the bong, it was saved for special occasions. tonight was one of those special nights. you had spent all day trying to catch up on all the sleep you had lost on the past mission, only waking up to go get dinner and then coming back to take a nap. 11:30 shined on the alarm clock, one of your only sources of light. the only other source of light was the moon shining in through your open window. you locked your door and put a towel at the bottom to block the smoke and turn on the fan while walking to the chair you pulled up to the window. the quiet cool breeze blowing through, making your room slightly chilly. you sit in your pajamas taking one good look at the moon before you started to pack a bowl. this was the most relaxed you had felt in months, nothing made you quite as happy as smoking on a quiet summer night, it was therapeutic. you grab your lighter and take the first hit, holding it in for a couple of seconds before leaning out the window and exhaling. these were the most relaxing nights. you take a couple more hits before sitting there for a moment peacefully, enjoying this refreshing night. that was until you heard a knock on your door. you quickly panic, throwing your bong in your closet and reaching for the nearest can of air freshener. another knock this time followed by a familiar Scottish accent “You in there lass?” soap asked. you sigh in relief and go to open the door. “you scared the fuck outta me soap, I thought you were someone else.” you chuckled, tucking the towel back under the door after you closed it. “You've been smoking with other people besides me lass? I see how it is” Soap fake pouted while making himself comfortable on your bed. soap was the only other person on base you smoked with. He would sometimes join you in your parking lot smoke seshes. he was also your classic high school stoner but had cut back when he joined the military, but still would partake here and there, you being his main smoke buddy. “I thought you were price for a moment and I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes,” you say, walking to where you threw your bong in a moment of panic. luckily for you, nothing broke or spilled. you grab the piece and put it in your chair to pull another chair up for soap. you finally grab the bong and sit for a moment, letting out another sigh of relief. “price had a little bit too much to drink at the pub tonight, I doubt he’d even be able to walk down here right now without busting his arse” soap chuckled. You chuckled as well, handing soap the bong and your lighter. You watched how the moonlight illuminated his eyes. You’d be lying if you said you didn't have a thing for soap. He was the one who welcomed you the most when you first joined 141 and was probably the one you were the closest with. You’d also be lying if you said you both weren't flirty with each other, especially while you were under the influence. Flirty little remarks and shared glances were usually all it was but there were a couple of shared kisses and even a messy high makeout session that had happened between you two. A part of you hoped tonight would end similarly. You watched Soap as he took a hit, god that man looked heavenly in the moonlight. The way the moon reflected in his eyes was one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen. He was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. You swore you fell more in love with him at that moment, watching him as he blew the smoke from his lungs out the window and sat back with a sigh. “You got some good stuff, Bonnie, I'm already starting to feel it” he smiled at you, handing you the bong back. “only the best for you handsome,” you said, smirking at him before taking another hit yourself. The bong was passed back and forth a couple more times before you had to pack another bowl. “Wanna do the honors Johnny?” you ask him, handing him the bowl and your grinder. “Don't mind if I do” He took the items out of your hand and set them on your desk to get to work. You watched him as he did his magic, he somehow always managed to pack his bowls better than yours. “your so handsome when you pack my bowls for me Johnny” you flirted. “I think you just like making me do all the work lass” he laughed. “you also got a handsome laugh,” you said to him and he handed you the freshly packed bong back. “you take the first hit Johnny, you're the one who packed it” “well don't mind if I do.” One more bowl later and you guys were stoned out of your minds. “that’s probably the best weed I've smoked in ages y/n, where the hell did you get it” Johnny asked while looking up at you “I usually don't spill all my secrets but your just to damn cute for me to deny you that information” and you told him how you had gotten the chance to stock up on the good stuff last time you hit the dispensary. “you wanna go watch a movie bonnie?” soap had asked, looking at you with puppy dog eyes. “how could I say no to that pretty face of yours” you said as he offered to help you up. after you both had crawled into your bed and got comfy you decided to find something to watch. you clicked through all the streaming services you had but couldn't seem to find a movie y’all had wanted to watch. you dramatically sigh and click out of another streaming service “It's like every funny movie has been wiped off the planet or something.” you sigh, dropping the remote signifying you had given up on the movie search. “I know something else we can do,” Johnny said, and you knew by the smirk he wore on his face he was up to no good. “and what would that be handsome,” you asked and before you knew it he was crawling on top of you. he then embraced you in a kiss, to which you grab his face and return the kiss. you run your hands up to tug on his mohawk as he deepened the kiss. He slowly pushed you down on your bed, now laying on top of you. He sits up momentarily to slowly take his shirt off, teasing you.“I quite like this idea Johnny” You smile at him and give him a peck. “I want to take this further Bonnie,” Johnny says, avoiding your eyes as a light shade of pink dusted his cheeks. “Like what?” you asked playing innocent. “Let me show you?” you could only nod yes as he smiled brightly at you before kissing you again. This time the kiss moved down to your jaw until his mouth made your neck its home, sucking at nipping at your neck. Leaving hickies and kissing them to soothe them after. Your hand found its way back to his hair, slightly tugging at his hair when he would nip at your neck, causing you to let out a small moan. One of his hands found its way to your stomach, slipping under your shirt and roaming your torso. The other one stayed on your jaw, pulling you further into the kiss. You were so into the moment that you almost didn’t hear the knock at your door. You and Soap both shoot up and stare at the door before another knock rings through the door, “y/n don't make break the door down” a slightly aggravated ghost said through the door. You curse at yourself quietly “Just a minute” you yell towards the door, grabbing your stuff and throwing it in the closet. As you turn around you see another thing you have to hide, Soap. You bring a finger to your mouth signaling to him to stay quiet before you grab him and shove him in your closet and close the door behind him. You collect yourself for a second before opening the door. Ghost stood there wearing sweats and a T-shirt that showed off his muscles perfectly. “Sorry, I was naked,” you say, instantly regretting the excuse you made. “Price sent me to investigate a suspicious smell coming from your room.” Ghost said. Slightly pushing you aside to go into your room. You sit in the doorway watching Ghost search through your room, making sure to check every nook and cranny. You prayed to whatever holy thing you could as Ghost made his way to the closet. You don't know what would be worse, him finding the weed or one of his sergeants shirtless in your closet. You hoped the half-naked scot would distract your lieutenant from the weed. Ghost arrives in front of the closet, staring at it for a second before looking at you as he opened the door. He looks over to realize he is face to face with soap. You just sat there mortified. “Smoking and fucking other teammates y/n? You’re fucking asking to get in trouble.” You cant reply as you just stare at your lieutenant. “Price wants you in his office first thing tomorrow morning, and for you,” he said looking at the soap, “get your clothes back on and get to your room,” he said to soap. Soap quickly grabbed his shirt and scurried out of your room, not wanting to do anything to aggravate ghost anymore. “I'll let you keep your stuff, but you gotta let me join in” you hear ghost say from behind you. You turn around again and instantly take him up on his offer. “Just don't be so sloppy next time y/n, if you're gonna break the rules don't do it all at once.’ He patted your shoulder before squeezing by you to walk back to his room, leaving you to stand in your doorway still slightly in shock.

[cherryatombomb]

John Price SFW Alphabet

wrote this to try and flesh out my writing of him.. first time writing for price baby i hope i got this decent

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Physical affection isn't his forte, but he does show some. Clasping your shoulder, shaking hands in greeting, all little things like that. They might not seem personal to him, but it's enough. He also likes to do things for those close to him, small things, but still clear signs. Making drinks for another, or sharing a cigar (ONLY for those very close to him. He's so protective over them fr), things like that.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Constantly making fun of you, you've never been called a "muppet" so many times in your life, but it's affectionate, so it's okay. Drinking together and telling funny stories, you probably make fun of him as well, so it all works out. You're as thick as thieves, but probably share some of his strictness, so it throws people off to see him throwing his head back in a laugh when you tell him a truly horrible dad joke. Threatens rookies if they ask him about it.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Oh, absolutely. There's nothing this man loves more than, like, cuddling on a sofa whilst watching a movie. He loves laying with your head on his chest, just totally on top of him - it lets him pet your hair and feel you breathing against him, it's so warm and cozy that he loves it. Also loves laying his head on your chest, but he doesn't make it as obvious. It just feels so protective and nice, but he feels more awkward about that version. So used to doing the protecting, he's never really been the protected.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Whilst he doesn't really see himself ever leaving his job, he believes it's where he's best, it's something he's thought about fondly. The idea of leaving, retiring, and being able to live peacefully, it's some idyllic future to him. He could be persuaded too by the right person, though, certainly. He's decent at cooking, though he's mostly used to MREs given the job - I think if he retired it could be something he focused on to keep himself occupied, and he could really enjoy it. Cooking for friends, or a s/o is something he'd really end up enjoying. He's good at keeping his space clean, as well, disliking outright messiness.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Whilst he wouldn't be mean about it, he would be upfront and serious. He's not the sort of guy to mince his words, though he won't deliberately be horrible about the whole thing - he does care about you, even if the feelings faded. He's pretty decent with communication, and he'll be open about the whole thing.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Price has always fantasized about some long-term relationship ending in marriage, but he never really let himself dwell on it. He'd want to be in a relationship for a long while before getting married because he wants to take it easy and make sure it's right. With his job, as well, if you're a civilian or working with him, he'd just want to be careful, knowing the risks. Marriage might come with retirement, or at least reduced work, because he sees it as a large commitment, and doesn't want to risk death anymore.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Emotionally, he's gruffer than anything, but that doesn't mean he can't be gentle, it might just take some time. If you're seeking comfort from him, he might end up insulting you more than comforting, but it's in that particular way of his that soothes the blow a bit (this man has definitely said 'what're you crying for, you muppet?' whilst getting you tissues). Physically, he's a little more reserved, but he's such a teddy bear once you're in his tiny trusted circle. He's so gentle, later on into a friendship/relationship.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Oh, for sure, but, again, only for specific people. He's not the sort of guy that will openly be hugging others, at least in the military - if you're out in public together, or retire together, it's a little bit different. To be able to hold you in an embrace is so reassuring to him, to share warmth and hold you means the world to him. His hugs are protective, just on the right side of firm, he'll definitely bear hug you.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

When he enters a relationship, he already knows he's gone on you - he's not the sort of person who would be able to date for short amounts of time. He knows, before entering one, it's for the long-term. It takes a while for him to say this, though, ultimately, because he's deciding whether or not, perhaps a few months in. It's said in the quiet of the night, you've been cuddling for a while, not really saying anything, just reveling in each other's company. He just kisses your forehead something gentle, then speaks it quietly, like if he says it too loudly he might ruin the atmosphere or such.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Price is a fiercely loyal and protective man, but when he's dating somebody, he trusts them wholeheartedly. He knows you inside and out and knows you wouldn't do anything to hurt him like that. Still, he can't help but feel his stomach clench with jealousy when someone hits on you. He'll wait for your go, though, looking for you to handle it or call on him for help because he doesn't want to belittle you by thinking you can't handle it. If you look for help, he'll swoop in, wrap an arm around you, maybe kiss you, and just ask about how you are, focus in on you. Completely blank out the jack-ass until they're gone, make sure you're okay, before looking all smug about it. His arm probably won't leave you for the rest of your little excursion.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His favourite place to kiss you is your forehead, 100%. It doesn't matter what your height is compared to him, something about it is just so comforting, the way you smile, the way you react each time you kiss him there pleases him beyond measure. For himself, he likes you kissing his lips, it's so simple but always makes him smile. His kisses are languid, slow, like it's a reminder that you're both alive, and it's okay. The fact that you can take it slow is something he'll relish in whilst he can.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Not had many experiences around kids, but he's surprisingly very good with them. He's got dad jokes in spades, and he's very good at calming them down when necessary. The type of person to crouch down to get on a kid's level, make sure he's at their height, and he's so, so gentle with them.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

His favourite mornings are relaxed ones; making you breakfast in bed, drinking tea, and smoking a cigar. Ones where you don't feel the need to get out of bed for a while, you can just cuddle, talk, or watch TV. The usual mornings, though, are pretty routine - he wakes up pretty early, mostly out of instinct, and has a certain order to things - gets up, has some breakfast, shower, brush his teeth, etc. If he wakes up earlier than you, which he likely does, he might spend a few extra minutes just appreciating you before getting up. He probably wakes up around five, maybe earlier.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Once he gets back from doing some work, he likes to settle down once he's eaten. Get himself in comfortable clothes and then watch some TV. With you in the mix, he'd love to cuddle to wind down at night, because you absolutely help him to relax. Likes to leave work outside of his room, because it's easier for him to separate the two and wind down in the evening.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He doesn't particularly try and hide from others, but he's careful about certain things - especially if you're a civilian. He's seen a lot of really messed up things that have permanently changed him as a person, and it might take him some time to fully open up about it, but he's open about it being there. You don't get the details for a while, not the full specifics, but you'll get them eventually.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He gets impatient when dealing with people who should know better, but aren't, for whatever reason. Like if he's dealing with what feels like a purposefully inept rookie, he'll get pretty frustrated, but he can handle himself otherwise. Takes a lot to get him properly riled up, like yelling-wise, but it isn't too difficult to get him grumbling under his breath during a mission, for example.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Once he's truly sold on you, he'll commit everything you say to memory. Oh, you like a certain bad, or you like a certain style of clothes? Oh, he's going to be buying you them as gifts. Learns your favourite drinks in order to make them without you even having to ask, because he just wants to be there for you when possible. He likes making you things, or buying you things, because he loves how easy it makes you smile.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

For him, it has to be the first proper date you both went out on, after he worked up the courage. If you're both in the military, you managed to find times when you were both free, and you just went out on a classic date. To a restaurant, then home, together, where you watched a movie and cuddled for a bit. You ended the evening with a kiss, something slow and sweet before he headed to where he was staying. It was so mundane, but fuck, he loved it - he never gets that level of normality, and even though you'd practically been dating before this, it really solidified things for him. You make him feel normal, in a way that makes him feel so good.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

John is a fiercely loyal and protective man when you make your way into his heart. When you're out, he's always keeping an eye on you, always making sure you're safe, no matter the cost. On missions, if you're in the military, he'll check in with you via the comms every now and again, though hide it under the ruse of giving orders or something such. For himself, he likes being taken care of, but only at certain times. When he's acting as a Captain, he probably won't, but when you're both in private, having him in your arms, entirely surrounded by you, he's most at ease, most calm. When you let him lay his head on your chest after a nightmare, petting his hair and rubbing his back, he feels best. These are private moments, just for the two of you, of course.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Oh, once he knows he loves you, he'll be going all out on dates and anniversaries. Not every anniversary, but your yearly ones, certainly. Sentimental gifts and things of the like, things that remind him of you, all given to you on anniversaries and dates. Everyday tasks, he makes sure to get them all done - you likely split the chores pretty evenly depending on what you both do, and he makes sure that all his chores get done efficiently. His favourite dates are ones where he cooks for you, and you just get to talk, at home - he swears, he could hear you talk forever.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

John's absolutely a workaholic, he can get himself so distracted by accident. Especially if you're in the military together, he'll be holed up in his office for hours and hours at a time unless you get him out of there. He just feels pretty unsatisfied if he's got a whole lot of work to do, and he hasn't finished it all yet.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Definitely the sort to refer to his own face as ugly, but he doesn't really have any opinions on his face to be entirely honest. It just doesn't mean much to him. He's meticulous with his facial hair, though, it's very important to his aesthetic. No matter what's going on, he'll try and keep himself properly shaved, rarely letting it get too scruffy unless things are really wrong.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Before your relationship, he probably wouldn't think he was missing anything, but now he knows what he's missing, he'd say certainly. You balance him out in the best ways possible, and he can't express how much you mean to him verbally, no matter how much he tries. He'll show it the best he can, though, through the way his eyes soften when they look at you, or the way he hugs you like he wants to forget which limbs are his and which are yours. You complete him, in the best way possible.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He's a dog guy, for sure. John actually kind of likes some of the smaller ones, like the terriers, but he also likes Great Danes. He'd absolutely love to own a dog with you, later on in life, if you agree. He doesn't mind cats, but he'll definitely be like that dad that's like "I don't want a cat" and then cuddle with them for ages when you get them.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Immaturity, 100%. He hates people not taking things seriously when they should be, or aren't doing their job correctly just for a joke. He can take a joke, certainly, he's made plenty himself, he just knows there's sometimes a time and place for these things.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

It doesn't take Price much to fall asleep, he's used to conking out pretty fast in pretty rough places, so it comes easy to him. Total deep sleeper, once he's out, he's out. Snores, though it isn't totally horrible, it's definitely there. Sleeps on his back, or sometimes on his stomach, and radiates warmth the whole time, he's just a really warm person. He does have nightmares, sometimes, so be warned about them - they make him sweat, warmer than usual, suffer from chills, and he tends to smoke to calm himself down after he's done. Quietly mumbling things, or shifting about slightly. They're a mostly quiet affair, but they don't get any easier.

[grumpygreenwitch]

The Witches & Wizards Jobs 17-18-19

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SEVENTEEN

I slept like I hadn't in months. Living in a constant state of anxiety will do that to you, I suppose. But I was so far from home and from the enemies and dangers of Chicago that it felt as if they were too far away to matter. Even the war seemed a thing happening to someone else. It was a dangerous feeling, particularly because the house didn't have any of the protections of my Chicago apartment, but I was too tired to care.

I woke up to an unfamiliar doorbell and my dog trying to murder me by stepping on my kidneys. That much dog euphorically walking all over you will wake you up in a hurry, if nothing else. I dragged myself out of the surprisingly comfortable bed and down the stairwell to the door.

I found my current boss there.

"Dresden."

"Ford." I was all at once as awake as someone could be, every sense sharply on the alert.

"You can't use an electric stove, can you."

Ok, not the words I'd expected to hear from the man. "Uh, I can probably do it once."

"Without setting the house on fire?"

"Fifty-fifty on that one."

"Mm. Get dressed. We're gonna pick up breakfast."

He must have seen something on my face. I'd expected a lot of things; most people see Soulgazing as a theft, or worse. Very few like what they see in me. I'd expected to be fired, or interrogated, or something in a long and extensive list. Treated to even more food had not been part of it.

Ford shrugged minutely. For once he looked put together, and it was startling. He still had that deceptively harmless quality, the feel of a man that makes friends easily. He was freshly shaved, wearing a light shirt under a summer jacket and casual slacks, all in dark, neutral tones. His hair was still damp. "I refuse to let you think Boston only wants to come at you swinging."

I opened the door wide and stepped aside. "For the record, I don't mind Boston. I just don't want to make waves."

He stepped in. Mouse sniffed him, the banner of his tail wagging sedately, and Ford distractedly rubbed his head. I don't think he even noticed he was doing it. "Is it that easy? If what happened yesterday at the museum hadn't happened, would the city still know you're here?"

"Yes."

He looked thoughtful, but merely went on his way to examine the rooms full of crates while I took the fastest shower in the world, fed Mouse some dog food that looked like it cost more than my rent back in Chicago and got into my spare clothes. We headed out into an unfairly sunny and lovely morning. Trees bordered the street, the houses gracious in their old age. Boston was lovely.

It just wasn't home.

"There is, comparatively speaking, a lot of things living in Boston that aren't human. Supernaturals move, same as us," I explained as we walked. "For work, for life, for family. That's universal. And Boston's one point where that traffic bottlenecks. A lot of them don't go any further."

"So Boston's the best they could find?" He gave me a quick, incredulous glance.

"No, the most convenient. Magic likes it when you throw down roots. You can draw power from your home in a pinch, there's protections that kinda seep into a place the longer you live in it."

"Lintel magic," he murmured.

I damn near stopped walking. It was the first time in all our dealings that I'd heard Ford use the m-word.

"My mother believed," he said after a few steps. "She'd tell me stories, the old classics, and the ones from the Old World. Fairies, wicked stepmothers, charming princes - kelpies, hounds, fairy queens…" He shrugged once again. "I'm not nearly as surprised as I should be that the reality is even bloodier."

"You stopped believing, why?"

The ice flickered briefly in his eyes. "You looked into my soul, Dresden, don't you know why?"

"It doesn't work like that. You know that, or I would already be on a train to Chicago."

He did look amused at that, snorting minutely. "Dresden, you're Crime Lite from where my people and I are standing." He marshalled his thoughts while I tried to figure out if I was flattered, insulted, or something else even more complicated. "Life got in the way. Here comes Parker."

The thief was sprinting at us. She'd probably been coming to meet everyone in the loft. "Nate! Are you getting donuts?"

"Uh, we can?"

"I want donuts."

"I want something a little more substantial than donuts," he pointed out mildly.

"Oh, fine." She peeked at me. "Are you alright?"

"I'll do better with a couple of donuts in me."

She beamed. Ford groaned. We walked down the block to a little shop by the clever name of Double-O's, which did bagels and donuts both. Ford ordered enough food to feed twenty people and we sat at one of the little tables with a couple of donuts and some coffee and they brought me up to speed on what they'd done after I'd gone down.

Parker and Eliot had moved the coffee table, and everything in it, to the storage room, and taped the key to the Witchwell. That was already a huge weight off my mind. But then the Leverage people had gone further - with the crumpled envelope, of all things.

"It's not paper, it's vellum," Ford explained while Parker demolished a donut covered in chocolate and corn flakes. "Which is just fancy paper made to imitate actual vellum."

"Expensive paper," I ventured.

"Precisely."

"There was no writing."

"There doesn't need to be. Remember the embossing on it? It's a sigil, sort of a coat of arms."

"I really, really would love to know what it is you people actually do. So you looked up this sigil thing?

"Solve puzzles." Ford didn't miss a beat. "We didn't have to. Sophie knows it by heart, it's the sigil of Christie's."

"Christie's, the British Auction House?"

"Yes."

I worked on my coffee. "I'm hoping this makes sense to you, because I'm -"

The lights above us flickered. I wouldn't have thought much of it; I was there, after all. But at one of the tables, two women snatched up their purses and one toddler, and scurried off at truly phenomenal speed.

There were advantages to having that many supernaturals around, apparently. I snatched for my wand; like a moron, I'd left my staff back at the house.

"Do not." The gratingly avuncular tone was threaded with menace.

The man in black walked sedately past the counter and the last late morning customers. Only one person reacted to his passage, a young man wearing a typical cycling outfit, a messenger bag slung across his chest. He took one look over his shoulder and bolted. No one else seemed to see him, to know he was there. They shifted out of his way because suddenly they had to reach for a napkin or a sugar packet or something else, but no one directly acknowledged his presence at all.

It was a Veil with conditions. Until that moment I'd never known a Veil could be crafted like that, with exceptions built in.

Ford put a hand on my good shoulder and shook his head minutely. I tried to relax, and managed only to pull my hand out of my duster pocket. Parker was glaring with hyperbolic fury.

"Ah, you must be the sensible one," the man in black told Ford. "What pleasant luck."

"Every now and again," Ford agreed mildly.

He turned to look at Parker. She immediately looked down at her donut and scowled.

"This modern world," the man in black mused. "One comes to find the Prince of Thieves, and it is a woman. How times change. Hands on the table, please. Where I can see them."

"Parker," Ford said quietly when she didn't move. He said nothing else; he merely let his eyes take in the dozen or so people sharing space with us and the wizard.

She obeyed, sulking all the while.

"And yours, wizard Dresden."

Gosh, I'd almost forgotten what it was like, when someone used the title to insult me. I dropped both my hands on the table and worked really hard on not curling them into fists.

"Well, isn't this nice." He sat at our table. He was wearing fully modern clothing, a high-collared white shirt, a black embroidered vest, a long black coat with silver and emerald buttons, dress slacks, expensive shoes. His black hair had been cut and combed back, and his moustache and beard were so neatly trimmed I wouldn't have been surprised to find out he'd used a ruler. He was a very pale man, and his eyes were the same luminous, poisonous green of the painting and his magic. He looked and sounded so smug it took effort not to just haul up and punch him on principle. "So very nice. You have something of mine, sir," he told Ford mildly. "Several somethings, actually." He grinned.

"That would be stealing. I don't make it a habit to confess to crimes publicly, even when I haven't committed any."

The man's eyes flashed. His mouth opened - and closed, and he looked deeply amused. "No, of course not. You have committed no crime." His voice suddenly turned into a lash. "Hands. On the table."

Parker glared at him.

"I do strive to not be a fool more than once," he told her mildly. "If you do that again, I will kill someone here. Someone you do not know. Someone who does not know you. That nice man who served you your donuts, maybe. The old lady one of your companions held the door for one time. It will not hurt you. It will just be a toothache, forever there to be worried at, because I will kill them only if you take your hands off the table. Yes?"

Parker's face had gone to stone. My hands, despite my best efforts, had curled into fists after all. Ford tightened his grip on my shoulder a little more.

"I do not see a need to make this into a quarrel," the man in black said very calmly. "My attention is on greater matters. Whatever Dresden might have told you, until the small issue at the museum, I had committed no crime."

"No c- No crime? At the very least you destroyed the MFA lab. You stole from their vaults."

"Not at all. The portrait is mine. I commissioned Sokolov for it. Beautiful work, truly. I was very pleased with it, even with the nose being wrong."

"Working from memory," Ford mused.

"Mm, as portraitists do. So you see, I was recovering my property."

"You could have gone through proper channels. That shouldn't be a hardship for a man like you."

"I am pressed for time," the man in black admitted. "Which is why I come to make you an offer."

I tensed up immediately. Ford's hand turned into a vise on my shoulder and he shot me a warning look.

"You will return my property to me. And I will not kill you. You will send Dresden home. And I will not kill him. You will forget this matter. And in three days' time, I will grant you and your people your heart's desire. Whatever it might be. Fame, fortune, revenge, knowledge. I am a man of many talents. I daresay there's very little in this world that I could not give you. One wish."

"I get to punch you once," Parker growled immediately.

The man in black blinked in surprise, and then laughed. "Well, not that."

Under the table, Parker's leg bumped lightly against mine. It was so unexpected, so out of nowhere from someone who only touched even her own teammates when she absolutely had to, that it shocked me back to my senses, and I turned my attention to her. She was scowling at the man in black from the corner of her eyes, hunched down minutely, her hands flat on the table, tension on every line of her body, and her face had the same wild expression she'd had back at the Museum, when she'd figured out how to save our asses.

I lunged at the man in black across the table. I did it slow; I already knew I was much quicker than him. For a moment I thought I was going to actually get at him, the one time I didn't care if I did, but Ford belatedly caught me. "Dresden!"

Whatever slammed into me froze me, literally. I felt my veins turn to ice, my muscles lock. Cold blasted into me, left me motionless, unable to even shiver. I could barely gasp for air, but hey, if I wasn't going to get another chance to breathe, I might as well put the one breath I had to good use. "My hands're still on the table," I hissed at the man in black.

I saw surprise and fury flash through his eyes. He'd thrown himself back and scrambled to his feet, his chair crashing to the floor. No one noticed." So they are," he gritted out, and his magic faded, letting me wheeze for breath. With an effort he turned to face Ford, the mild and cheerful facade gone behind a vulturine, sharp and predatory look that was far more appropriate. "My property. Now, if you please."

"Does that include the Burning Witch's Well?"

Surprise once again went over the angular features, quickly hidden out of sight. "Yes."

"Well, you nearly killed twenty people with it, so, uh. No."

The man in black bared his teeth and flicked his hand. The lights went out. I threw my hand up and whatever he'd meant to hit Ford with crashed instead into my shield. It sent us both skidding back until we hit a half-wall behind us, random little decorations falling off it. He looked livid; yeah, still faster than you, asshole.

"Then I will take what is mine, and enjoy the killing of you all in the process," he declared, stalking off.

Breathless or not, Nate rushed immediately after him. I turned to check on Parker. "You alright?"

"Yeah, go get him!" She was wriggling in place. "I gotta put my shoes back on!"

Her sh-

Her shoes?!

There's only so many surprises I can cope with from just one person. I ran after Ford, but he was just outside the door to the shop, looking frustrated, scanning the street in every direction.

"Don't bother," I told him. "He probably closed off the Veil he was wearing to begin with."

"You saw him."

"No. I saw a couple of ladies bolt; they're the ones who saw him. I told you; you can't hide a wizard, not easily."

Parker nearly ran into us both as she charged out the door. "Is he gone?"

"Yup." Ford had that look again, the look that said he was putting together bits and pieces into a whole no one else had even noticed was there.

A man peeked out of the shop. "Mister Ford? Your order's ready."

"Oh, good." He marched back inside.

"You picked his pockets again," I told Parker before either of us followed Ford inside, not sure if I was amused or amazed. I settled for both.

"Yeah, of course I did. You almost messed me up, though!"

"I did? I thought you were signaling me for a distraction!"

She flushed minutely. "No. Your legs are just longer than Eliot's."

"… Sorry?" She grinned a little. "So what did you get?"

She grinned even more.

EIGHTEEN

Nate charged into the loft at full speed. "Hardison, are you here yet?"

The hacker had been in the kitchen; he peeked out of the fridge. "Yeah, man. Uh, fridge's broken."

"Then replace it, landlord mine." Nate glanced at the door and added, his voice quieter. "Quietly."

Hardison's expression filled with understanding, and he nodded. "Did you get breakfast?"

"They're bringing it up. I don't promise there's any donuts left. Is everyone else here?"

"We are now." Eliot held the door open for Parker and Dresden, Sophie coming up behind them. "What's this I'm hearing, that you met the man in black?"

"We did," Nate confirmed cheerfully.

"What?!" Hardison looked stunned.

"Is everyone alright?" Sophie asked.

"Oh, yeah, everyone's fine. He just wanted to talk. Threaten us, bully us, you know, the usual. Dresden, back to your couch, I need Hardison's computers." The wizard went that way obediently, but he didn't let go of the box he was carrying, raiding its contents before he surrendered it to Eliot. Sophie followed Parker to the staging area.

"Hardison." Nate sat and stared at the screens. "The Tetryakov Gallery is the main repository of Sokolov's work. That's not just his portraits and his studies, that's also his journals, his notebooks. The records of his commissions. Do they have electronic copies of those?"

In a moment the central screen was full of documents, more and more being flicked to one side as the hacker blithely charged into presumably secured databases across the world. "Some of it."

"Cross-reference against the portrait. We might not know who the people in it are, but it's absolutely one of Sokolov's largest pieces."

"It's also a full-body portrait of two people. He preferred faces, busts, or large groups. It's unique," Sophie added.

"Give me a minute, I'm having to run all this through a translator. I don't actually read Russian."

"Sophie, Parker. Are there any big art events taking place within the next three days?"

"Yes," Parker replied before Sophie could. "A private art auction in two days." She pulled from an inner jacket pocket a small piece of paper and handed it over with a grin.

Sophie took it, read it, and passed it on. "That's what the Christie's man is here for. He's not selling, he's buying."

"He just went to all this trouble to get the portrait, and he's selling it already?" Eliot protested mildly. "Why?"

"Because in two days he won't need it anymore." Ford stared at the screen. "Dresden, the brass piping. What you meant to do with it, can you do it in the storage room as well?"

"If there's enough brass, yes."

"Do it." Nate looked at his team. "He can't find them. He came to us because whatever Dresden did worked. The key, the circles, whatever it is, they are actually doing their job and he can't find all the stuff Parker took from him. I bet he had some sort of tracker in his pockets, waiting for Parker to go for it."

"Jerk," the thief muttered, but she didn't sound angry as much as resigned. "I figured the paper was safe."

"Dresden."

Eliot brought the piece of paper to their consultant. It was a match to the envelope, heavy vellum, the ink black and gold, the writing beautifully elegant. Dresden grimaced as soon as he touched it, and lifted it up. "Nope. This is your tracker."

"I can't put it back when he just keeps being invisible!" Parker protested.

Nate gestured appeasingly. "Hardison, make a copy. We'll put the original with the rest of the stuff. I imagine next he's going to try and break in, send the leshy to fetch them, or something worse." Once again he turned to Dresden. "Can you stop that from happening?"

"Yes, but I should get started soon," the wizard had sat up straight, staring in something like wonder as, once again, Nate did what he did best.

"You've got the whole day. Sophie, you and I have a meeting for dinner."

"Fedorov?" When he nodded confirmation, she pursed her mouth. "Are you sure it's safe?"

"No. That's why we're going."

Hardison had put the invitation into a scanner that was discreetly hidden in one of the desks. He handed it back to Parker, who glared at it as if it were the man in black himself. The computers chose that moment to beep and he looked sharply up. "Found it." His fingers flew over the keyboard and he grimaced. "They're direct scans from one of Sokolov's commission journals. The OCR is having a time with it, let me see if I can make the name of the commissioner any clearer." He clipped one particular set of lines from the yellowed, faded page on the screen.

Sophie drew in a sharp breath. Eliot, who'd been coming over to take the invitation from Parker, froze.

"You're fine, Hardison. It reads fine like that," Nate murmured distractedly.

"That can't be right," Eliot muttered.

"What's been right about this job from the beginning?" Sophie countered mildly.

"What's it say?" Hardison asked.

All three of them replied at once. "Koschei."

Behind them, Dresden choked on his breakfast sandwich.

Nate clapped his hands. "This is good!"

"Good?" Eliot stared at the mastermind in disbelief. "This is good? We're going up against the main bad guy in every Russian fairy-tale ever written, someone who actually makes the Russians balk, and you think this is good?!"

"All fairy tales have their basis on something real," Sophie had sat to one side, her hands wrapped around a cup she hadn't touched yet. "Khan Koshan was a barbarian warlord, back in a time when Russia was simply Rus, 'the land'."

"It's good because we have a name," Nate explained. "And a name means a trail. Wizards might not be able to use technology - he is a wizard?" He turned to Dresden, waited for a nod to carry on. "But the rest of the world does. A name means a profile, travel records, hotels, purchases. Even if he's not using his own name, and honestly I expect he'd be the sort who would out of sheer arrogance, a name isn't the sort of thing that blows up computers, like an image does." He turned to stare at the screen. "A name gives us everything. Hardison, this isn't your usual profile, but can you give me an estimate of how long it will take you?"

"You want me to guess how long it'll take to sift through two hundred years of fairy tales to get a bead on this man?" Hardison stared at Nate.

"He's older than that," Dresden sounded off. "He's much, much older than that."

"Dresden." Nate acknowledged. "Do you have a starting point?"

Harry exhaled sharply. "Yes," he replied carefully.

The mastermind pressed his mouth into a thin line and added, "One that doesn't involve men in gray and big swords?"

"I'm working on that," Dresden admitted. "Khan Koshan is…sort of a wizardly cautionary tale. He's the only wizard anyone knows of that successfully managed immortality."

"As in he can't die, or he can't be killed?" Eliot asked.

"Both," the wizard replied grimly. "That's half the trick. You can be ageless, if you don't mind every supernatural in the world out for your blood. You can be unkillable, if you don't mind selling your soul. As far as anyone knows, he got both kewpie dolls without paying the price."

"So he's a criminal." Nate didn't look convinced.

"That's the other half, he's not. Technically." Harry seemed to measure his words with incredible care. "The best known way to be ageless is by stealing the life off of someone else. That is outright necromancy. Men in gray. Big swords."

"He's not doing that." It wasn't a question.

"No. No one knows how he's doing it, only that he absolutely doesn't age, and that he's not a necromancer."

"And he can't be killed? Hurt?" That came from Eliot, who was scowling at the very thought.

"Parker clocked him twice at the museum. Solid hits. They were gone by the time I tackled him."

"That can't be an easy trick to pull off," Sophie mused.

"It's not. What… is known is what the fairy-tales are already telling you. He cut out his own heart and hid it - he hid it so well that no one can find it, not even death."

Sophie drew in a deep breath. "The brooch. The Emerald Heart of Koschei the Deathless. The jewel that no one's ever seen, but everyone knows is real."

"Yup. Now, here I'm going on hearsay: he did it to gift it to a woman he loved. But she rejected him, and it poisoned the heart. Turned him greedy and cruel. He was going to share the trick of it with the world, up until that point. Having met the man, I think it's bullcrap. He never meant to give the secret away. He's just spinning some PR to make himself look the victim, not the villain."

"That tracks," Nate agreed.

"Is that what he's after?" Eliot turned. Hardison had put up a picture of the portrait on one of the screens, deeming it safe enough since no phones had been sacrificed in the acquisition of it.

"The placement of the lock would seem to hint at it," Sophie agreed, but she saw Nathan frown minutely.

Surprisingly, it was Dresden who sounded off. "Why? It's been safe all this time, impossible to find. Why bother now, why bother at all?"

"Mm." Nate stared at the painting. "Dresden, do you mind shouting across the room?"

"I like it better than the alternative."

"Then I'd like you to work with Hardison on the profile, but the security around the things we took from Koschei takes priority. Eliot, you're with them. Sophie, Parker, we're going to find out what we can about this private auction."

"I bet Jess knows," Parker suggested.

"Start there, then. Dresden." It was Nate's turn to choose his words very carefully. "Is this something you should report to your people?"

The wizard looked surprised to even be considered on that regard. "Technically."

"We're flying on a lot of 'technically's here," the mastermind muttered.

"I mean, I can't use a cellphone. I'd have to find a landline." A little smirk ghosted over Harry's features making him look, for a fleeting moment, young. "The only ones I know of are back in Chicago."

Nate didn't smile, but it was a close thing.

NINETEEN

To be fair, I did get why Ford called it 'wanton destruction of property'. Eliot just looked way too gleeful wielding a power tool. And it absolutely wasn't because I was a little bit jealous that he got to use the fun toys, like a nail gun. Cordless drill. Power sander.

Nope, not jealous at all.

So the morning went with Eliot in my basement and me out in the yard entertaining Mouse, and the hitter occasionally stopping long enough to relay a question from Hardison back at the loft.

Then he ran out of iron nails. That wasn't anyone's fault, I'd asked for enough for a few spells, not enough to line the doors and windows, which was what it would take to keep the leshy out. No shield or barrier I could think of was going to keep a Golden Bear out, obviously. And I couldn't imagine anyone had ever come up with something to keep Koschei out, it would have been the stuff of legends. No, the point was the circle, and the ward inside, a copy of the pattern on the key.

Hey, if it worked for Koschei it was good enough for me.

Eliot took off to get more nails. Hardison didn't want me near the loft while he worked on a little joint project I'd suggested. Which gave me the perfect opportunity to head into my shiny new basement, close my shiny new circle for protection, and break out Bob.

I'd honestly thought about leaving Bob behind. My apartment might not look like much, but there were protections on it that only living for years in the same place can create. My laboratory, the sub-basement, was not only protected but hard to find. There was a better than good chance that Bob would be reasonably safe. But better than good was no perfect. And powerful and knowledgeable as Bob was, he still lived in a skull, and skulls are fragile. I wasn't worried about any of the many enemies in my life breaking in and finding him nearly as much as I was about them breaking in and not realizing how valuable he was while they wrecked the place.

In any case, I'd brought him with me. I hadn't expected we'd do much. I figured I could let him loose for a little while, if nothing else, and use that later as, heh, leverage when I needed his help. But that had been before I realized the size of the mess in Boston. I brought my rucksack down to the basement, found three boxes that had been on the Endless List, and put the skull on top of them. "Wake up, Bob."

The spirit's eyes lit up like candles, and immediately blazed and sparked like fireworks. "Whoa!"

"Yeah, welcome to Boston." I knew exactly how he felt. I put the sack on the shiny new workbench and sat on the shiny new stool.

"Ooof, headrush." Bob sorted himself out faster than I had, and his eyes rolled all around the sockets as he took in his surroundings. "Nice place. These Leverage people are taking good care of you, I see. Did you ever find out what it is they do?"

"I'm working on it."

"You know, Harry, it wouldn't have killed you to put me on a window during the train ride. It's been forever since I've really traveled."

"I was asleep for most of it."

"Liar," Bob sang back. "Are you wearing a sling?"

"I was trying to sleep for most of it. And yes." The shoulder was only occasionally throbbing, but Eliot had been very clear about wearing the sling as long as possible. "The Leverage people seem to have stepped into something a little beyond everyone's paygrade."

The spirit scoffed minutely. "Mortals."

"I'm not sure I'd have the arm to put in a sling if it weren't for them, so let's skip the pleasantries about that. I need to make a quick veil-shielding charm."

"Harry, you can't do that, you know that. A charm that can defend against a Veil needs to be attuned to, if not the Veil, then the wizard casting it, else it burns up."

"I'm fine with it burning up. I just need it to last five minutes. Two even." I couldn't even imagine the sheer amount of mayhem any of these people could do in two minutes. Or less, but I was trying to play it safe.

"What a waste of magic," Bob scoffed.

"Bob, focus. These are the same people who got you the boxes you're sitting on." The skull was sitting on top of three boxes full of paperback romances. I didn't question his unlife choices and Leverage hadn't questioned mine.

The spirit's attention turned inward briefly. "Well, I'm suddenly feeling a lot more generous toward our hosts," he declared, far too chipper. "Also, this city's making my teeth buzz. Anything that takes attention away from that is welcome."

"Oh, I have lots more questions for you, don't worry. The charm?"

"Did you bring the Vivendum with you? Page 253. By the way, Gottridge is lying, the charm works just as well in metal as it does glass, as long as it's not iron or lead."

I lifted one of the pins I'd found in the Lost & Found box. "How about pewter?"

"Ooo, tin and copper, perfect. If you get lucky, there might even be silver in there."

I found the Vivendum Grimoire, one of the books I'd brought with me from Chicago, found the spell to enchant the charms, and started rummaging about for sympathetic ingredients. Magic's all like that: sometimes you need something specific, but for the most part as long as you have something that sorta resonates with what you mean to do, you're fine. I found a heavy mortar and pestle first, and started throwing things in there: a lens and some colorful beach glass, a few plastic whistles. I tore strips out of a sheet of sandpaper, and emptied a bottle of perfume in. Then I started looking about for something to fill in the fifth slot. Gottridge recommended cheese, but everyone agreed that the man had had a dairy allergy.

"Rice," Bob said in a long-suffering tone. "Rice, Harry. If you cannot go to one extreme, go to the other."

I threw my last ingredient in, covered the mortar and started grinding. "Next question. Can you make a suppression spell into a suppression potion?"

Bob sucked in a breath. How, I didn't know, given he lacked every single element needed for it. "Yes, but it's not gonna taste good. Among other things."

"Other things?" I asked in between working the pestle.

"Think, Harry. The point of a spell is that you can dismiss it at will. If you drink the suppression, how are you going to dismiss it if you need your magic?"

"Can it be done so it's on a timer?"

"Tricky, but doable. And it's still going to taste like the bottom of a ditch. Why are you wearing a sling?"

"Because I dislocated my shoulder last night. Work out the recipe, please." The pestle began grinding more smoothly, so I gave all my focus to the spell. Bob knew better than to distract me, though I could all but feel those witch-light eyes burning into my back.

It wasn't hard, particularly because I didn't need it to be efficient, or good. Like I'd told Bob, I just needed the charms to do their thing long enough for my employers to get wise to a bad situation and bail. I worked the spell into the ingredients until I had fine, dust-colored dust on the bottom of the mortar; I scooped that into an empty salt shaker, sprinkled it all over the dozen or so pins I had ready, covered it all with a dish-cloth with sunflowers printed on it and left the magic to cook.

"You've been here barely a day and you dislocated you shoulder already?" Bob burst out as soon as the cloth settled.

"The suppression recipe, please."

"Harry!"

"It wasn't by choice!"

"That's worse!"

"Bob… These people live and work and do everything on computers. The suppression potion, please. Besides, they put it back already."

I got a recipe, and about ten minutes' worth of being lectured in between every step and ingredient, where Bob knew I couldn't get away or complain too much. "What do these people even do, did you ever figure that out?"

"Nope, and at this point I don't want to. Next question: what would it take to summon a Golden Bear out of the Nevernever?"

Bob went quiet. You wouldn't think this a bad thing unless you knew Bob. Unfortunately, I knew Bob.

"I mean, a couple of the wizards on the Council might be able to, if they can find one. If they can convince it to come through. Things that big, they don't like it on this side, Harry. It takes too much effort and they're not bright enough to put in the work themselves."

"Let me rephrase," I said as I tried to figure out if I had half the things I needed for the suppression potion. "What would it take for someone to instantly summon a Golden Bear out of the Nevernever to do their bidding?"

Bob went quiet again. His eyes were staring at me with an almost solid weight. "Harry, what aren't you telling me?"

"Too hard? Ok, here's another one: tell me every you know about Koschei."

The silence went on for so long that I would've thought him gone if it weren't for the eyes pinned on me. "Harry."

"Yeah?"

"Call the Council."

"Not an option."

"Harry, I know you. If you're asking leading questions about Koschei, it's because you've already met the man. You know for a fact he's here. You are involved, and that is the least safe thing you could be. This is beyond you, Harry. This might be beyond the Council, but at least if you call them it'll be them dying, not you." Bob was sounding very clipped and rushed; it was something I very rarely heard from him, I guess because when you're stuck in a skull there's not much to make you afraid anymore.

"I can't. Not with the War going on. Even if I did manage to get through to someone, I have no way of knowing if they'd have anyone to send. I'm here, now. This is the job."

"You can't take Koschei on! Harry, that's beyond suicide. He has a reputation for holding grudges for a reason!"

"That's a problem for future me. Present me still needs to know everything you can tell me about him -"

"I will not!"

"-because if you don't he's still coming after me, I just won't know when or where or how."

The skull somehow blew me a raspberry, and let out a highly infuriated sound. "What did you do?!"

I brought him up to speed while I worked on attuning a couple of compasses to the chalk I'd scrawled on the back of the portrait. Odds were the painting -sorry, the portrait- would be protected with the same anti-tracking magic on the key, but just in case it wasn't I wanted some way for the others to follow and find it, not just me.

"So he's here for his heart?" Bob saw me grimace as I worked. "You don't think so."

"No. It's been safe all this time, Bob, he has no reason to look it up now, particularly not so openly, so blatantly. If he just wanted the heart he could've gone into the museum at night, broken in by magic and taken it. No, he wants that portrait for another reason."

"And you're sure the woman's the Hag herself?"

"Ford thinks so. I haven't met her."

"I still don't like it."

"Oh, I'm thrilled as peaches about it, Bob," I told him, and all the sarcasm I'd learned from the damn skull came out with the words. "Really. I've met the man twice and both times he wiped the floor with me. I'm sure earning my paycheck."

"Harry, no one could ever pay you enough to face off against the Raven." Bob's voice went to a quieter note. "You're alive. Take the win."

"What'd you say?"

"I said take the win, you -"

"No, I mean, what'd you call him?"

"The Raven? The Blackbird? I wouldn't even be saying his name if we weren't in a circle that I'm sure you've closed. He's one of those people who are deeply attuned to any attention coming their way. You know the type. Opera singers. Politicians."

"So he can tell when someone says his name?"

"If he's listening. If he knows the person saying it. If there's enough intent, like with any other sort of magic. Why?"

I closed my eyes and focused on that morning. Koschei hadn't actually met Sophie; the vault hallway of the MFA had been dark, and I'd drawn his attention away just long enough that, by the time he'd caught up to us, Sophie had already bolted to go get Eliot.

Eliot, he knew. Unfortunately.

But he didn't know Ford. They hadn't even traded names at the bagel shop. More, Ford didn't believe. It didn't matter that he'd seen me actually throwing magic around, he was more like the sort of person I'm used to, the ones who wanted to explain it all away and forget it had ever happened.

So, just as we'd expected, he probably had a nebulous idea of where his stuff was - somewhere on the block, if he'd sniffed me out already. But he wouldn't know precisely where, and with the anti-tracker in place, he never would. "See, that's the sort of thing I need to know. How about sharing some fairy tales with me while I work on the suppression potion?"

Bob wasn't happy about it, but he also had a vested interest in keeping me alive, and it was going to be hard enough without suggesting one of his usual bargains. I spent the next hour setting up and preparing the suppression potion while he told me old Russian fairy tales and scared the crap out of me.

And yet.

The thing was, whenever I was on a case, things were usually happening so fast, coming at me from every direction, that most of the time I wasn't acting, I was reacting. That wasn't happening with the Leverage people; it couldn't. Whatever came at them, one of them knew how to deal with it and the rest knew to follow through.

Which included me.

I'd never realized it before, because I usually worked alone. I didn't have time to think through what I was doing, I barely had time to catch my breath, keep all my body parts attached to the body in question. But working with other people, capable people, I'd held my own. It wasn't gonna save me from Koschei, but it was kind of enlightening to know I could keep up with some of the smartest folk I'd ever met. Even if they were suspiciously criminally inclined.

I got the potion sorted out, dipped my finger and tried a taste, since I was pretty sure I was done doing magic until lunch, at the very least. It tasted about as bad as I'd expected. "Hey, Bob?"

"I don't have a tongue, I'm not tasting it for you."

"It's not that. I was just thinking, if you can see what's in those three boxes, you can probably do a general inventory -"

"Oh, here we go with the drudgery."

"- and I need to know if I've got what I need to make a mirror-mask -"

"Hey, Harry!" Eliot called out somewhere above me. "You home?"

"Inventory, Bob."

"There better be another box in it for me," he grumbled.

"Thanks." I stepped forward and focused on breaking the circle, except as soon as I stepped up to it it disappeared.

Right, suppression potion.

"Dresden!"

"Down here!" I set my foot on the stairs.

The doorbell rang. It was about as old as the house, and it seemed to be holding up well in my presence. It was certainly loud enough to nearly make me jump off the stairs. Eliot had just opened the basement door up top, and I saw him snap around like a wolf scenting prey. He put up a hand; I'd seen enough of the man to stop dead where I was.

He walked out of sight. I couldn't even hear his steps on the wooden floors. I only knew where he'd gone when the front door opened. I heard a woman's voice, I heard Eliot saying something back before he called out, "Dresden, someone here to see you."

That, I wasn't expecting. I trotted up the stairs, closed the door; Mouse was waiting for me there, ears perked and tail on the alert. He whuffled a warning.

Eliot shot me an equally wordless warning with his eyes before he stepped back, away from the door. There was a woman there with a kid, a young girl. I'm not good with children but she was old-ish, maybe twelve. Something like that.

When someone talks about someone who's not classically beautiful? The woman was the very definition of it. She was short, solid, very curvy, but even when she was just standing there there was a grace, a sort of unbreakable dignity that made you take notice. She was wearing a very prim business suit, gray skirt and jacket, white silk shirt, black shoes. She had dark hair done up in a very severe bun, dark skin the color of copper, sharp features mixed in with soft curves. Her eyes were black as midnight, with a ring of gold.

Her daughter had the ghost of her mother's beauty; she was quickly growing into it, though there was a bit of lanky to her that said her father was probably taller, definitely skinnier. She was wearing some sort of uniform, gray pleated skirt and white shirt, and she looked scared; she took one quick peek at me and immediately pinned her eyes down, but it was long enough for me to see she had her mother's eyes.

"You are wizard Dresden?" The woman had a thick, nearly impenetrable accent. She also had a printed sheet of paper with, of all things, my ad on the Chicago Yellow Pages on it. "Lost Items Found?" she recited.

"Uh -" I'm not good when I'm not under pressure. I usually get myself all hyped up and ready when I have to talk to a customer, be it on the phone or in my office back in Chicago. It didn't help when she suddenly started talking in a language that sounded a little bit like music and a lot like nothing I'd ever heard before. "Whoa. Ma'am. Ma'am, please."

"She wants to know if you're the man from the ad." Eliot's frown had changed to a look of curiosity.

"You sp -? What is sh -?"

"Wampanoag. Algonquian. It's a native - hold on." The woman had kept on talking, faster and faster, and Eliot put his hands up to stop her. "Ma'am, please, wait a minute -"

"Ma'am, he's human!" I shot at her, hating that I had to.

It worked. Her eyes went wide, and her mouth fell open. She stepped back. "Sorry! Sorry! Am sorry! Am so sorry! I say nothing!"

Eliot fell back, confused, so I stepped forward. "It's fine. It's fine, ma'am. Yes, I'm Harry Dresden. Can we please move this inside?" I thought for a moment she was just going to bolt, but obviously whatever had made her track me down sight unseen, in Boston, had more weight than her fear of humans and she stepped in, her daughter keeping close.

"Dresden, what was that?" Eliot muttered.

"There's a thousand humans for every single supernatural in the world, and most of them come out shooting if they get so much as a whiff of anything weird. Never sell yourself short in a fight, Eliot, not that I think you would. Humans are the tactical nuke of the supernatural world."

"And scary accordingly?"

"It's just safer if humans don't find out what lives around them. Safer for everyone involved."

"Hardison wants to know why you're not blowing up the earbud."

"Suppression potion. Long story. No magic for me right now. I'd take it out, it's gonna wear off any minute."

We sat down. Mother and daughter laced hands, and the woman said something. Eliot opened his mouth, but the kid beat him to it. "We don't want any trouble. We didn't know you had humans with you. We don't know what the rules are for people in other cities."

"I'm a little looser on the rules than most wizards. Now, I'd love to ask how you tracked me down, but I'm more interested in why."

"I found you on the internet," the girl replied. "I told my mom. We had a friend sniff you out. It wasn't hard." The mother said something. "He said you smell like big water, like a lake."

"You found him by his smell?" Eliot sounded stunned. She shrugged. Her mother said something and he frowned. "I'm not sure I got that right, it wasn't Algonquian."

"It was Welsh," I said. "Wasn't it?" I looked at the two ladies sitting on a couch that had been, until five minutes ago, still wrapped in plastic. "Because there's no word for 'selkie' in the local tongue."

The mother finally found her courage. "You help us. You find lost items, yes? You help."

Well, the next part was gonna suck. I've been the victim of my share of raw deals in my day. There's been a lot of times when I've had to sit down, shut up and take it when someone's doling out misery. I'll never agree to leaving someone in that kind of situation, but there's rules of magic even I can't bend. "Not this one, no. Ma'am… did he take it fair?"

She drew herself up proudly. "Never fair. Never. You know, wizard. You know this."

"Wait, selkie, as in, the selkie? Seal-woman?" I saw Eliot go through every stage between disbelief and understanding in under five seconds. Then I saw dark, cold rage blot out the sunshine. "Her skin. Someone took her skin."

"Someone took her skin, what, twelve, thirteen years ago?" I asked the kid.

"Fourteen," she replied haughtily.

"That deal's done. It's like signing a contract, you might not like it, but you're stuck with it. The penalties for breaking it are… severe. And interfering is tricky. Interfering with magic into a selkie marriage tends to rebound, ricochet. Like a bullet. "Ma'am, I can't help you, I'm just - I'm a wizard. The rules apply to me same as everyone."

"No!" She snapped at me. "I no say -" She growled in frustration, then looked at her daughter and took a deep breath. "He find my skin. Take. Is law. I know. I no need you find my skin, wizard. I need you find my daughter's skin."

Oh, Hell's Bells.

Both Eliot and I turned to stare at the girl. Thirteen, fourteen years old. In some places, to some men that I couldn't legally set on fire, she was ready to be married.

"He took your daughter's skin," Eliot sounded ready to murder someone.

"Yes. You find."

"I'm… working -"

"Can you find her skin, Dresden?"

"There's a few things I could try?"

He smiled at the two seal-women. It almost looked like his usual sunshine smile, but I could see the murder still lurking somewhere behind it. "We'll do what we can, ma'am."

She sagged with relief and reached for her purse. "I pay -"

"No payment required," he told her pleasantly.

"But we'll need as much information as you can give us about your -" Even knowing Eliot felt the same as I did, even knowing I had both backup and permission to act, I still wanted to set someone on fire. I did my best to smile instead. Smile and reassure. "- your husband."

She had it all typed up neatly in another piece of paper she pulled out of her sensible purse, as well as a few hairs in a bit of plastic wrap and her contact information, which directed us to Sannah, her daughter. We saw them to the door, waved them away, and Eliot turned to face me. "Dresd- " The little bit of suppression potion I'd tasted chose that moment to run out, and he yanked the earbud out as it screeched angrily. He drew in a deep breath. "Is that for real? Someone took her skin and she had to marry him?"

"Yeah. Crap deal, with magic and hope keeping them tethered. As long as there's even a chance to get her skin back, she'll do anything, put up with anything."

His hands curled into fists. It took him a few moments and a couple of deep breaths to get past the first crest of anger; he was better at it than I was, I'd known about selkies for so much longer, and I was still angry at the whole situation. "So, how do you normally handle something like this?"

"Uh, I go to the library, look up the guy. Tail him, on foot or by magic, see if he goes any place that isn't home or work. Find out where the skin is, report back to her with the location."

"Wh- That's it? There's no… explosions, no fighting?"

"He's human. Anyone else would know to give the skin back. A selkie's skin is bad luck on an impressive scale to anyone but the owner, it's why you can't use magic to break up the marriage."

"So he'd be using human means to keep the skins." He looked very thoughtful.

"Probably, yes."

A slow, wicked grin bloomed on the man's face that made me feel as if we were about to do some very bad things to some very bad people. It was a good feeling after having Koschei wipe the floor with us. Me, mostly. "Good. Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Out of the dark ages and into the age of the geek. Unless you're in the middle of something?"

"Nothing that can't wait." Yeah, ok, I was curious to see how Leverage dealt with a supernatural challenge, even if it was a relatively minor one.