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blccdiedhands asked:"You're drunk. Go to bed." (helena)

“Oh, c’monnnnnnnn….” Droopy head, hazy eyes, words slurring, aimless hand reaching out into the darkness to grab for Helena and pull her into a nice, friendly (not friendly enough) HUG. Cheeks nuzzled together, tiny tits pressed into arm. “’m the Queen of Conn-HIC-t…” Full body weight dropped dead on Helena’s shoulders threatening to tip the poor thing over. “Wazza Celt ta do OTHER than drink?” Was a good question. Beer and conquering other nations were HARD CODED into their very culture. “B’siiiiiiides, am a spirit now. And spirits don’t need ta sleep.” They also didn’t need to DRINK. Helena was so gonna point that out to her, huh? “S’might as well enjoy the rest a’ it.” WHAT DID THAT EVEN MEAN?! “Ya ever drank in yer life, or d’ya just read books for a livin’?”

blccdiedhands asked: ❛   touch  yourself   &   think  about  me.   ❜ (helena @ medb)

Gritted teeth. Helena always knew just how to SMART Medb. It wasn't as if she didn't WANT to think about Helena while touching herself, oh no, no, no, don't get it twisted. In fact, left to her own devices, Medb would often (ALWAYS) find Helena playing on her mind, pon de la replay, whenever she was alone, or indeed, those increasingly less frequent interludes in which she'd use MEN to get what she wanted. Helena was to blame for those, too. Not that Medb would admit it. Both the one's that still happened -- Nigh exclusively at times of Helena busying herself with OTHER PEOPLE and PISSING MEDB THE FUCK OFF. And the one's that NO LONGER HAPPENED. Those had been entirely a subconscious shift in Medb's personality. A very troubling one at that. And part and parcel the major contributing factor in how Helena PISSED HER OFF. Because, as far as Medb could tell... Helena didn't seem to be feeling the same way.

That had been Medb's FOOLISH MISTAKE. Despite having full knowledge of the near-zero percent chance that she'd ACTUALLY MEAN IT, Medb had found herself increasingly frustrated with the tension that perpetually perpetrated itself between herself and Helena. Like a tightly bound string, threadbare and set to SNAP at any moment. The two were arguing and Medb? Well, her exact words, what were they again? Something along the lines of... "WHAT DO I NEED TO DO TO GET YOU TO ACCEPT MY STUPID APOLOGY?!" Yeah. She'd seen that shift in Helena's expression. That mischievous SPARKLE in her eyes. Medb should've known better. See, the entire POINT of fucking herself to Helena ALL ALONE was a PRIDE thing. Helena wasn't to know that Medb's sexuality (& sexual preferences) had been thrown into tumultuous turmoil ever since she and Helena had come face to face once more. (As if she didn't ALREADY know.) She wasn't supposed to ever find out exactly how DEPENDENT & OBSESSED Medb was growing. (Again, as if she didn't already know -- MAHATMA & ALL THAT.) It reminded Medb of her first life with Cu. Only way, way, worse. Cu was but a guy who refused to give Medb the time of day. The ONLY guy that did so. Helena? Well... Helena was the ONLY GIRL that Medb WANTED to give her the time of day... And Helena DID. ...But only on HER terms...

-- "TOUCH YOURSELF AND THINK ABOUT ME." --

-- ...THIS WAS ON HER TERMS... --

"Tsk. You really are a cocky bitch, you know that?" Still she found her clit THROBBING, a rush of arousal aching between her thighs, focusing in on that tiny bundle of burning nerves. The thought of touching herself in front of Helena. Shameful. HUMILIATING as it may have been. The thought of Helena WANTING HER to touch herself... And the explicit permission that Helena wanted, no, DEMANDED, for her to think of her... Heart raced, she bit her lip, letting out a murmur as thighs pinched, breath hot and heavy. FUCK. "They all think I'm the big, bad, evil, bitch. They just haven't slept with YOU yet..." Right hand trembled, fingers itching, bones flexed, fingers arching, curling up, knuckles bone white. "So what? I come while thinking about you, and you'll go with me to ServantFes this year? All sins forgiven?" Probably not ALL. That was asking... A LOT. America. Imprisoning her during Ishtar's race. The time she tried to murder two ten-year-old girls because she wanted to be the most powerful magical girl in all the realms. (Long story. Don't ask.) In fact, almost ALL of Helena's worst memories came from Medb RUINING HER LIFE. Was kind of Medb's hobby. Though, in her defense, she'd say that if Helena didn't WANT to have Medb ruining her life, then maybe she shouldn't have been the best damn sex (and the most genuine fun) Medb had ever had in her life.

(And she definitely shouldn't have abandoned her back when they were magical girls. See? Long story.)

"Okay. but, don't blame me if you can't keep your HANDS to yourself. They don't call it my GOLDEN BODY for nothing~..." She smirked and fell back against Helena's bed, readily peeling away the red jacket, parting her thighs to flash red lace beneath her skirt skirt. Perhaps wearing THIS outfit while asking for forgiveness was also a little... STUPID AS FUCK. But, hey, just because she committed evil atrocities in it, didn't make it any less cute to wear, right? Fingers fell to thighs, tracing up milky, faultless flesh to rub at soaking lips through bright, now dyed dark with lust, red panties. Thighs instinctually parted further of their own accord as she let out a HEAVY BREATH, gasping and raspy, fingers moving up to massage at her panty-clad pussy, thumb brushing over engorged clit through the material. "Define THINK ABOUT YOU. Can I just watch you? Or do I have to close my eyes and use my IMAGINATION~?" Medb wasn't sure which one would best favor her, to be honest. On the one hand, watching Helena would save her ego from actually FANTASIZING ABOUT HER. (Like the pathetic little slut she was.) But at least if she FANTASIZED about her, she'd have an excuse to get VOCAL and maybe, just maybe, drag Helena down to their shared utopic oblivion. Hand reached up, pushing aside her red bra to cup at her perky tit, pinching at her sore and aching nipple, pinching hard, twisting and pulling, nails threatening to SCRAPE, SCRATCH & CUT. And she cooed out, gentle and whimpery, right fingertips now circling her clit in tight, fast, strokes. Moans began to spill, long and sing-song.

"Mmmh. Mmmhhh... Mmmhhh... God you're such a... Nnghh... Bitch... Better hope no one comes in and finds you getting off to me~..."