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#oh boy he started taking pictures again
sttoru · 5 months
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satoru hums a tune as he adjusts his sunglasses — putting them on the top of his head. he’s in a happy mood today; nothing or no one could wipe that big grin off his face. the reason?
“. . . gojo, hurry up.” megumi calls out whilst idly standing at the foot of the staircase that connected to the roads outside campus.
you smile as you see your lover gleefully walk down the stairs — jumping from one to the other. satoru’s smile was one you wish would never fade. ever.
“oh!” the white-haired sorcerer suddenly stops in his tracks. his sparkling eyes take in the sight before him and his heart skipped a beat at the realisation:
two of his favourite people were standing next to each other. waiting for him so they could go on their little (family) trip. satoru just had to capture this moment and put it in the album that’s dedicated to the both of you. it’s a must in his eyes.
“megumiiii,” satoru fishes his phone out of his pocket and puts it in landscape mode, tongue peeking out at the corner of his lips to show just how deeply he was concentrating on getting the perfect shot, “step a bit closer—yep! jus’ like that!”
“can we not do this? we’re gonna miss the train and—” megumi starts off with a sigh and a faint embarrassed pout, though was quickly cut off as you pulled him closer to your body — coddling him like he was still the little child satoru and you had met a couple years back.
the blue haired boy sighs once again, however eventually gives in and awkwardly puts up a peace sign. you smile brightly in return and satoru was absolutely cheesing behind his phone.
“awwww, how adorable!” satoru grins once he has taken about twenty different pictures — each one special and a treasure he will forever cherish. after putting the best one as his phone’s new lock screen, he rushes down the stairs and steps in-between megumi and you.
one arm holds your body close to his by the waist, the other arm wraps around megumi’s shoulders. megumi reluctantly allows it since he didn’t want to ruin the light-hearted atmosphere. that fact alone makes satoru even happier;
“let’s go — i can’t wait to finally spend some quality time with two of my favourite people, hehe.”
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sexlapis · 6 months
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[◉°] … TOJI FUSHIGURO TAKES A LIE DETECTOR TEST… 9.6M VIEWS
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꩜ actor!toji (& implied actor toji x actress/actor reader)
⤷ synopsis: toji thought this lie detector test was going to be a breeze. he was a little mistaken.
sfw, fluff, crack, ooc toji, toji & reader are secretly together, toji lying!
masterlists
actor!toji masterlist
⪩     ₊     🍪    ✧    ⁺
“i ain’t nervous,” toji claims, cracking his neck and smirking as the crew members attach the needed equipment to his body, “i ain’t no liar either. so i got nothing to worry about here.”
“i sure hope that’s true, mr.fushiguro.” the polygraph examiner replies slyly.
“are you ready, toji fushiguro?” the interviewer asks.
“yeah, i am,” toji claps, “hurry up and get started.”
“is your name toji fushiguro?”
“yes my name is toji fushiguro.” he looks to the polygraph examiner. “it is, right?”
the woman simply stares at him.
“..alright then…”
the interviews asks another question. “are you about to take a polygraph exam?”
“yes, yes and yes, now give me the real questions!”
TOJI FUSHIGURO TELLS THE TRUTH
YOUR CAREER
“we’re going to start with the category of your career.”
toji nods and looks to the examiner. “how ‘m i doing?”
“you’re very calm, nothing unusual yet.”
“hm.”
the interview begins to speak. “one of your most popular roles as an actor was when you played Frank Castle in the Netflix series, “The Punisher”. some would say this is when you became a heartthrob. do you think is this true?”
toji sighs and shakes his head. “nah-”
“LIE.” the polygraph examiner calls out.
toji raises his hand. “…because, i was already a heartthrob before alla that.” he smiles, looking proud of himself. his answer is met with silence.
“ok.” says the interviewer and goes onto the next question. “do you face a lot of pressure being a heartthrob?”
“nope.” toji answers easily. “i’m just that kinda guy. i ain’t gotta try too hard for much, especially not ‘being hot’.”
he looks at the examiner.
“he’s telling the truth.” she states. she almost seems disappointed by the fact.
“see?” toji says, folding his arms, “as i said, ‘got nothin’ to lie about.”
“in the punisher,” the interviewer starts, ignoring toji’s cocky replies, “do you wear a muscle suit to look bigger than you actually are?”
toji throws his back, cackles echoing around the small room. “fuck no!” he gestures to…his whole body, “‘it look like i need a muscle suit? ‘didn’t even know that shit was a thing… i’m big enough without any of that stuff.” he shrugs, looking into the camera. “i think we can all see that.”
the examiner nods curtly. “..he is telling the truth.”
“do you workout often?” asks the interviewer.
toji scoffs. “i thought i’d get good questions..but yeah, yeah i do workout.”
“would you consider yourself fit?”
“yep. ‘hundred percent.”
“would you consider yourself fitter than,” the interviewer slides a photo of the actor gojo satoru towards toji, “this man?”
“pfft-” toji chortles. “oh, ohh yeah. easily. he’s like..” he looks for the correct words, “a little boy. are we kidding?”
he looks to the examiner and then to the interviewer.
“he is being truthful..again.”
toji smirks at the camera, tapping the side of his nose with his finger. “toji never lies.”
POP CULTURE
“this year, you were named “The Most Sexiest Man Alive” by People Magazine. do you believe you’re sexier than this man, 2022’s sexiest man, nanami kento?” the interviewer slides another photo, this time of the actor nanami kento.
toji looks at the photo for a second, before scoffing a little. “oh yeah. definitely. ‘guy just has a permanent frown on his face. he ain’t ugly but he could smile a little, y’know?”
“what about this ‘guy’, 2021’s most sexiest man alive, ryomen sukuna?” the interviewer also slides a picture of him to toji.
toji strokes his chin. “heh..yeah..yeah i would say so..this guy..he ain’t ugly either but..theres this energy about him..”
“what energy would that be, toji fushiguro?”
“the energy of a fuckin’ mass murderer that’s what!” he laughs at his own joke, looking at the picture of this ‘ryomen sukuna’, who is glaring into his soul through the image. “yeahh, i’d say i’m more attractive than him. just.. just a little.” he holds two fingers close together emphasis. “jesus christ, that’s one scary looking fuck.”
the examiner inspects the polygraph and looks towards toji and the interviewer. “he has been telling the truth.”
“yeah.” toji nods, exhaling through his mouth and sliding the pictures away from himself. “‘course i am.”
LOVE LIFE
toji had been doing well so far, but the category of ‘love life’ would be his downfall.
“do you want to get married in the future?”
“yeah, yeah i do.”
the examiner nods.
“have you ever been in love?”
“..yes.” toji responds, thinking about his past for a second.
the examiner nods again.
“are you in love right now?”
toji pauses for the first time in the whole test. he takes a deep breath. “no. yeah, no. ‘m not.”
the examiner raises an eyebrow at the results. “questionable.”
“oh, c’mon.” toji groans, rolling his eyes.
“is there someone you’re in love with?”
“nope. nobody at all.” he interlinks his fingers, tapping them against each other. “..nobody at all..”
“questionable. again.” the examiner states, pointedly looking at toji.
toji sighs. “oh, brother…”
“did you happen to meet this person..on set?”
“no, ‘cause there is no person?” toji says firmly.
“again.” the examiner says. “questionable.”
“christ…”
the interviewer asks another question. “do you believe in love at first sight?”
toji huffs. “no, that’s just two people who wanna fuck.”
“i see. then,” the interviewer takes out three pictures, all of them being people who he has worked with on set, including you.
“are you in love with any of these people?”
toji gulps, hesitating for a split second, his eyes focused on your picture. “nope. not oneeee bit.”
“LIE.” the examiner shouts excitedly, happy to have finally caught toji out on lying. she rings the negative buzzer repeatedly. “lie!”
“‘you serious?” he asks incredulously, looking between the interviewer and the examiner. “listen, maybe it was just my heart murmur or somethin’ like that,” he looks to side, cheeks rosy and shifts in his seat a little, “i-i don’t-”
“those are the last of our questions.” the interviewer says to toji, smiling knowingly. “thank you for taking part in our lie detector test.”
toji grumbles.
౨ৎ
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tag list: @tiredslepz | @hayatslife | @shxyxyxxxx | @snowprincesa1 | @laylasbunbunny | @mimiemie | @ncentic | @rosesored | @imover-18 | @gintokhi | @suzuperstarr | @lostgxrlblog | @jallie10 | @nnsav | @bunnyx-sakura | @bubbabobabubbles | @ladytamayolover | @keiva1000
a/n: this was longer than i planned 🤥
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starrystevie · 10 months
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it was all supposed to be a dumb joke.
the boys had been sitting around after rehearsal one night passing a bowl and more than a few beers, laughing about how unsuccessful the newest music based social media app would be. mere seconds of songs looping over and over with other songs mixed in would never work, especially for corroded coffin where the story, the buildup of their songs was part of the reason to listen.
it all started with jeff, grinning slowly ear to ear. "what if were to get in there and take some celebrity's name for a user name? like paris hilton or something."
then it moved to gareth, who paused with a scrunched up face. "dude, paris hilton? what the fuck kind of reference is that..."
then it was over to greg, choking on a smoke-laced laugh. "yeah, it'd be funnier if it was eddie's pop prince loverboy instead."
that got everyone's attention. eddie had protested to ears that didn't want to hear it as they cackled in their studio that they rented by the hour, bent over in their rolling chairs, leaning against the side of the mixing board for support.
"loverboy?! you know i can't stand steve harrington and his bullshit lyrics, what the fuck kind of suggestion is that..."
but come the next day, when the weed had left his system and his veins were alcohol-free, eddie stared at the mixr app home screen and the blinking red circle over his inbox with disdain after successfully acquiring a user name he never would have picked for himself.
'steveharrington', eddie's account says, along with an icon of himself and his tongue out.
if it hadn't been for being less than sober when the app dropped. if it hadn't been for his best friends egging him on with taunts and jeers and kissy noises and less than sincere dreamy calls of 'oh steve' in the background. if it hadn't been for the way that eddie secretly did think about a certain head of floppy hair and soft brown eyes and shoulders littered with constellations.
if it hadn't been for all of that he wouldn't have had the chance to have his celebrity crush, the steve harrington, in his inbox at 8am on a random tuesday morning.
"good morning!" the message says simply enough. eddie stares at the words, trying to process what they mean, looking at the verified username of 'steveharrington1' next to an icon of his most recent album along with it. his inbox is flooded with people all asking him random things, thinking he's the real steve harrington, but this one verified account has him shaking.
for all that eddie is, all big hair and black jeans and skull rings and leather, he's still a man. a man who can look at a pop star, annoying as their music may be, and see charm. he can see attractiveness. he can see that smile that steve harrington has perfected behind his eyelids and he can see them strolling off into the sunset together hand in hand and he can see steve all flushed and breathing heavily underneath him on a mountain of plush pillows and he can see-
the message pings again with a new addition. "i know this seems weird and my team advised against it but i'd really like your user name of... well, my name."
eddie blinks slowly. he pictures steve maybe laying in bed, maybe sitting at the breakfast table with a cup of coffee, with his phone in his hand as he types out a message to him. to think that steve has any idea about him existing on any sort of level is doing his head in. his heartbeat races a little faster as he types back with shaky hands and a pit in his stomach.
"is this real?" is all he can type out, leaning against the kitchen counter as he waits for his coffee to brew.
three dots pull up on the app screen before disappearing and eddie pulls his lip in between his teeth to focus his energy elsewhere. he tears his eyes away from his phone and looks out the window to watch the people out for their morning walks. he's just about to the point where he thinks about maybe taking up walking if nothing else to get all the pent up energy out of him when the app dings again. as he looks back, his heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach.
it's a photo of steve that can't have been released before. he's sitting outside in bright sunshine with sunglasses on, tousled hair and grin on his face. he's holding his hand up in a thumbs up and eddie can see the remnants of cream cheese on the side of his index finger.
he sucks in a stuttering breath through his teeth, trying to force his lungs to breath again. the dots pop up on screen once more and the message that comes through is instantaneous.
"real enough for you?" it reads. and then an additional message is tacked on. "need me to hold up a newspaper with the date on it?"
there's a winky face that follows and it feels fake even though it's very real. this whole morning feels wrong, unreal. he's just eddie munson, some singer in some halfway popular band in some kind of shitty neighborhood in los angeles that just happens to have not just some pop star in his dms. this doesn't happen to him.
"why did your team tell you not to message me? does my reputation precede me?"
eddie pulls his hand up to his mouth to bite at the side of his fingernail, watching the screen with rapt attention and waiting for the typing dots to disappear.
"according to this account your name is steve harrington and yes, i'd say his reputation does precede him."
eddie barks out a laugh, not exactly expecting that.
he didn't know what he was expecting out of any of this. he thought that it might help get the corroded coffin name out more if he got tangled up somehow with the steve harrington name. spark a little bit of drama to boost their visibility. but now here he is, talking to the man himself, cracking jokes and trying not to hyperventilate.
"how were you able to get this name so fast anyway? my team was on it right when the app dropped last night."
"i had the power of bandmates and weed on my side," he types back, side of his mouth quirking up into a smile.
"oh so you're a musician? maybe i should be looking into your reputation then, mystery person."
eddie pauses and thinks about every option. he is semi-known in the metal scene, his outlandish stunts on stage and political speeches at shows that garner them becoming an almost brand for him. if he tells steve who he is, would he know? care? run away from the scary guy who may or may not use stage blood in every music video?
but the thing is, he's not a scary guy and he never has been. he might be a little intimidating and he guesses that's the armor he puts on everyday after being bullied in school but it's not an accurate showing of who he is. eddie is sweet, funny, kind of smart in that has random fun facts about dungeons and dragons kind of way.
and he wants the steve harrington to know that guy.
eddie flips over at his middle so his head is nearly touching the floor and ruffles his hair, giving it volume and calming down the frizz that comes from sleep. he shakes it out of his face once he's upright and grabs his garfield coffee mug if only to have something to do with his hands. grabbing his phone off the counter, he opens the camera option in their message thread and snaps a quick picture of himself grinning, mug next to his face with a matching cat-like smirk. he nervously presses send before he can even think about all the flaws with it.
"eddie munson at your service," is what he types out with a saluting emoji and a muttered prayer to whoever would listen to him that things don't end horribly.
it's not like he's expecting to sweep steve off his feet. he knows that steve has picture perfect partners, he sees enough internet news to know that gruff and dark isn't the kind of guy he normally goes for. but he looks back at the photo he sent and hopes that steve sees the kindness in his eyes, the scruff on his jawline that makes it look just the smallest bit chiseled, the whimsy and life that he embodies that comes from a tacky coffee cup.
there isn't an automatic answer and it makes whatever hope eddie has floating around his system falter. ''at this point you've probably searched me and i can reassure you, i'm not actually a vampire like google seems to think i am."
"holy shit."
it's short, two words followed by typing dots that disappear, reappear, disappear once more before reappearing for the last time.
"would you believe me if i told you that i am huge fan??"
choking on coffee hurts, eddie finds out. he coughs as the hot liquid goes down the wrong pipe and concentrates on the messages once he gets his bearings back. steve, the steve harrington, a fan of his? it's a prank, it has to be, there is no way that steve harrington-
"one of my exes took me to your show at the bowl and it quite possibly changed my life. you gave that speech about the pipeline before the encore and i went home and bought every single one of your albums that same night."
he's dead. the papers will read 'eddie munson found dead in his home in a ratty metallica shirt holding onto a garfield coffee mug and cellphone open to a chat where steve harrington tells him he's a fan of his work'. it's the only way that this is possibly happening. he's died and gone to whatever fucked up version of heaven has him still living in his shitty la apartment.
"are you fucking kidding me?" is what he types back, slamming his coffee mug onto the counter to have access to both hands. "you've heard my stuff?"
and then it happens, like out of a shitty teenage rom-com, his phone is lighting up with an in-app call from steve harrington. the steve harrington. careful not to drop his phone in his hurried movements, he presses accept faster than he thinks his fingers have every worked.
"hello?" he questions into the phone and there's no hello back, just steve apparently freaking out as much as he is.
"i hope this is okay," he says and god, does his voice sound wonderful over the phone like this. "but it's faster and i have too many things to say that typing it all out would be stupid."
eddie grins and his feet tap against the ground like an excited kid. "it's fine, i uhm... i get it. god, this is weird."
steve hums in agreement before laughing. and oh, that laugh. it has eddie floating up to cloud nine, heart thumping painfully in his chest, butterflies beating their wings wildly in his stomach.
"yeah, it's definitely not how i expected this morning to go. talking to eddie munson, wow."
"sure," eddie snorts, "you talk to celebrities all the time, i'm sure this is small fish for you."
he hears steve laugh again, soft and gentle, like it's meant just for eddie. "i might talk to celebrities all the times but not ones that i have posters on my wall of like a pre-teen. i'm properly geeking out right now."
eddie short circuits. that's the only way to explain the way his body shuts down as he slumps into an armchair in the living room.
"you, steve harrington, have posters of me on your bedroom wall?" eddie's mouth feels dry as he talks and regrets making coffee at all because he's wide awake now and feels jittery.
"well okay, to be fair, it's of the whole band and it's in my studio but you are shirtless so i contemplated putting it in my bedroom." something shifts on the other end of the line and it sounds like steve sitting down. there's birds chirping in the background and eddie closes his eyes to picture himself sitting with steve on a patio instead of in his dingy apartment.
"you're gonna give me big head, pretty boy." the pet name slips out before he can stop it and the pitch of his voice lowering is out of his control. eddie can't be held responsible for his actions at 8am especially when he's flirting over the phone with his celebrity crush.
"pretty boy, hmm?" steve murmurs back. "so does that mean you have posters of me too?"
the timbre of his voice shoots from eddie's ears all the way down to his toes, lighting his veins on fire as it travels down his body. the hopeful part of his brain supplies an image of steve smirking, relaxing in a pool chair outside of what must be a mansion, phone in one hand and cup of coffee in the other. it could be domestic, if eddie thinks about it hard enough. if he wants it enough.
and god, does he want that. domestic bliss with steve harrington.
"well i wouldn't exactly call picturing you in my dreams every night posters, but it's close enough i guess."
it's gutsy, it's brash, it's too forward for a tuesday morning but steve started it. he hears a shaky exhale on the other end of the line and lets out a chuckle. it feels like they're playing chess and there's no clear cut winner quite yet but if the match ends in a tie, eddie can't exactly say he'd be upset about it.
"i tell you what," steve says in an almost airy voice. "in exchange for giving me my user name, i'll give you my number and you can use it to see me in something other than your dreams tonight."
"...are you bribing me, harrington?"
"is it working?"
eddie takes in a deep breath and thinks about what possible plans he could have with the username 'steveharrington' that would amount to something better than taking the man himself out on a date with his phone number saved as a contact in his phone. he'd put a heart next to it and everything.
"of course it is."
the call drops away and it's quick enough for eddie to think everything that happened in the last 30 minutes could have been a fever dream but then there's three dots on the message thread and his hopeful heart starts to kick back into gear.
"213-555-5469. let me know when you've given up that username and i'll let you know when to pick me up. it's a win-win all around. turns out we each get to go a date with our celebrity crushes, how lucky is that?"
it's signed with a kissing face emoji and eddie's glad that he's sitting down when the last picture steve sends comes through. he's grinning in a way eddie's never seen before, blush high on his cheeks, sweaty shoulders and collarbones and pecs glinting in the early morning sun, and eddie thinks it's probably too early to be in love with someone but he's well on his way.
he texts the number he's sent without hesitation and without shaking hands this time. he signs the message with a black heart like it's a signature of it's own.
"lucky indeed."
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harunayuuka2060 · 2 months
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Professor Trein: I've never seen your classmates- I mean, your students this behave.
MC: They just value their lives, professor.
Cerberus: Grrr...
MC: Oh. Is there anyone trying to cheat?
Random student: !!! *immediately rips off his cheat sheet*
MC and Professor Trein: ...
Professor Trein: Can I borrow Cerberus for my history class later?
MC: Sure thing, professor. But how about, Lucius?
Cerberus: Grrr...
MC: Aww~ Look at you, Cerberus! You're such a good boy! Be good to Professor Trein and his cat, hm? I'll play with you together with Lucifer after you finish your task. *pets him*
Cerberus: *wags his tail*
The students: *thinking* Curse Crowley...
Barbatos: Great work, MC. Here's your Hell Coffee.
MC: Thanks. *takes a sip* Ah.
MC: So bitter.
Barbatos: *chuckles* It's more bitter than before, isn't it?
MC: *smiles* Yes. *then their face saddens*
Barbatos: Is there something wrong?
MC: I just missed Luke and Simeon.
Barbatos: Hm. Then why not invite them here?
MC: ...
Barbatos: Don't tell me you have forgotten that you possess the power of the Ring of Light?
MC: ...
MC: *facepalm* Yes.
Barbatos: *chuckles* I figured. Now, don't sulk and enjoy your recess.
MC: Thank you, Barb.
MC: Vil... What are you doing here?
Vil: I've heard from your demon butler that you are turning yourself into an angel to gain access to this Celestial Realm.
MC: Yes?
Vil: I must see what you will look like, potato.
MC: ...
MC: Okay. I think it'll be fine if you're the only spectator- Lilia, what are you doing here too?
Lilia: Same reason. *while holding a camera*
MC: ...
MC: Whatever.
Solomon: *chuckles* You're famous even here, huh?
MC: More like infamous, but yeah. Anyway, Sol? Mind lending me a hand?
Solomon: No problem. *uses magic to change them*
Vil and Lilia: *in awe; also Lilia not forgetting to snap pictures*
MC: Okay! I'm ready to get my baby!
Solomon: And your other husbando.
MC: Right. *breathes in*
MC: I am the magician, MC…Ring of Light! Heed my words! Open the way forward and create a path where there was none!
MC: Unlock the Gates of the Celestial Realm!
Vil: Ugh... Everything is bright! I can't see a thing!
Lilia: Good thing I have my sunglasses.
Vil: *frowns*
*The light disappears after a few seconds and MC as well*
Solomon: Yup. I'm sure they are in the Celestial Realm right now.
MC: ...
Simeon: ...
MC: *ended up straddling him*
Simeon and MC: *both blushes in embarrassment*
MC: I am sorry!
Simeon: *chuckles* I thought for a second that I had committed a sin.
MC: Come on now. You're calling me a sin?
Simeon: *chuckles again* No. I mean, I have been thinking of you for a while.
MC: *smiles* Sorry for being gone. I got into some sort of... unexplainable event.
Simeon: Oh?
MC: By the way, is Luke here? I'm here to invite you and him to this new world I'm living in.
Simeon: Is it similar to Devildom?
MC: No. It's a bit similar to the human world, except with magicians.
Simeon: Oh. *smiles* We would love to be there.
MC: Great!
*Back to Twisted Wonderland*
Diavolo: Simeon! Luke! I'm so glad to see you again!
Simeon: *chuckles* We're glad to see you too, Diavolo.
Luke: Yeah!
Lucifer: I'm surprised you easily got permission, MC.
MC: What permission?
Lucifer: ...
Simeon: MC snatched Luke in front of Michael. *laughs*
Luke: *giggles* It was fun when the other angels started to chase us!
Lucifer: ...
Lucifer: MC, why you-
MC: It's my parental rights, Lucifer.
Lucifer: ...
Malleus: That is your son, child of man?
MC: Yes! Isn't he adorable?
Luke: *staring at Malleus and wondering if he's a demon*
Malleus: How old is he?
MC: Um. He's ten. Yes. He's ten years old.
Luke: *pouts* MC! I'm over a thousand years old!
Malleus: ...
Malleus: What? You are older than me? *squints his eyes*
MC: Mal, don't. *knows that he's judging his height*
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animatedrapture · 1 year
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— bet on stones. / suna rintarou x f!reader.
— fluff. all fluff. (a lot of flirting and teasing.) established relationship. some cursing. pro-player!suna. post timeskip suna.
— teasing sunarin for his short hair. ggez btw.
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"rin," your voice is barely above a whisper, but the corners of your lips are twitching, trying your hardest not to laugh.
and listen, while suna has the softest spot for you, the glare he gives you is well-deserved.
"don't start," he says—all warning and frowning.
"what'd—" the giggle escapes you, it can't be helped, "what'd you do to your—your hair, oh god," you almost whimper, trying to reign it in.
suna groans, reaching a hand to his hair and running over it in a ruffle. his hair—so short and barely framing his face—and he's still pretty, but it's a sight to see.
especially when he just walked in your apartment this way, avoiding your gaze the moment he stepped foot inside because he just knew; he knew that you'd be there on the couch waiting for him and for the life of you, you won't be holding back your laugh or any quick-witted comment on his hairstyle.
but then, you're standing from where you were, walking towards him by the door.
a grin decorating your face, the urge to laugh still evident by the crinkle of your eyes, and your hands reaching to cup his face. "hi, pretty boy," you greet him, thumbs over his cheeks.
he sighs. narrow, green eyes looking back at you with some exasperation, some hint of softness, all at once. he leans in, pressing a fleeting kiss to your lips, before he speaks, "learn to shut up more often, yeah?"
you immediately pout, "what?" you sound offended. "i'm flirting with you, rin," you tell him cheekily, "short hair, weird-looking you—"
"ooookay," he cuts you off. it's all monotone, the way he says it. and you can't tell if you've truly annoyed him yet but with a pinch to your waist and a hand over your mouth, he's moving you, turning you over and backing you up against the door.
your eyes widen as he leans in—all six foot three and broad body over you, still in his ejp jersey—he levels his gaze with yours, watching your reaction.
he licks his lips before speaking, "y'got somethin' more to say, babe?"
you shake your head slowly. truthfully, if your weakened knees and your hands now on his arms on a tight grip is any indication; suna, even in his weird short hair, is still the prettiest person you know.
he hums in thought, like he doesn't buy your answer, but he keeps a straight face as he removes his hand from your mouth, only raising an eyebrow at you with some sort of challenge.
"who did your hair, babe?" you opt to ask instead, biting your lip to prevent a giggle.
suna's responding glare is quick, but sighs in defeat at his answer, "fuckin' atsumu miya."
the snort you let out is enough for suna to tease you for, but he lets you have it instead. besides, you let him tease you more often and let him get away with it more than you should.
you reach up to his cheeks again. with his hands still on your waist, it's a picture right out of a romcom, were anyone else to see you two.
"you lost a bet, didn't you?" you ask, already knowing the answer, "but why would you trust atsumu with your hair, rin?"
"cause," suna answers you, "he would've turned his hair rainbow—that's funnier."
"how did you lose the bet, anyway?" you tilt your head, cause you know that despite how careless your boyfriend could be, he rarely loses these.
this time though, instead of answering you, he shakes his head and picks you up—it's effortless, the way he does it, bringing you back to the couch.
"is it that bad?" he mutters while he's peppering kisses all over your neck. it's overwhelming, the sensation of his lips and his larger body over you, the clean smell of his shampoo and his skin against yours because he likes taking a shower before coming home to you.
he takes your breath away, really.
"no," you sigh, because he's lingering a kiss right against the pulse on your neck.
"actually," you start, moving to try and meet his gaze, your hands finding his soft, dark hair, massaging against his scalp. "i have a boyfriend but maybe you can tell me your name and we could go on a date?"
suna's chuckle vibrates against you, his lips tugging with a small smile. "mm, 'm not sure you're worth gettin' a fight over."
you gasp dramatically, faking offense, "i'm asking you out on a date!"
"don't you have an athlete boyfriend, though? suna, yeah? pretty sure he can fight."
you shake your head, "hmm, he likes making me happy, though. i think we can just break up if it makes me happy, right?"
he hums in thought, not too worried about his too-short hair and your teasing anymore, "don't know if you'd be a good girlfriend, though."
it's your turn to make it physical this time, tugging playfully at his hair, "that's offensive, rin. i bring a lot to the table!"
suna smirks, trying not to laugh at you, "yeah? like what?"
"well, i can cook out of love for you. i'll wear your jersey proudly for your games. i'll wait for you to come home every day. in bed—"
the list goes on. this, suna knows the best. on his end, it's the only reason why he lost the bet anyway, because there's a ring hidden in the box in his training bag he thought he would've given to you by now.
atsumu, six months ago, told him he's too chicken.
no one can really blame suna for being nervous about it, though. so nervous that now, six months later, with a bet lost and a ring he's got for you still hidden, his hair is cut short.
it's because he loves you like this.
but with the list still going on, he thinks you're right: he should take you on a date, then maybe, if you say yes, make you his wife.
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luvf4ngz · 30 days
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HOT LOVE ON THE WING - jason todd.
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Descripton: You’re not upset about your most recent breakup; you’re just upset you have no one to fuck anymore. Good thing your Shakespeare loving best friend, Jason, has a solution to that.
Contents: This Bad Boy Is PACKED With Shakespeare References, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cheating (Not By Jason Or Reader), You And Jason Are Absolute Fucking DORKS, Good Friend Jason Todd, Best Friend Jason Todd, Self-Indulgent, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Female Reader, HEAVY Banter, Hair-pulling, Vaginal Fingering, Squirting, Overstimulation :), Pet Names, Praise Kink, Dacryphilia, Soft Jason Todd, Dom Jason Todd, Missionary Position, Doggy Style, Cowgirl Position, Nipple Play, Spanking, Rough Sex, Dumbification, Fucked Stupid, Unrealistic Sex, Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Spit/Drool, Goofy Giggly Sex, But Also Hard and Fast Sex, Jason Destroys Your Spiderman Panties :(
Word Count: 3131
Author's Note: If it wasn't obvious from the tags this is a repost from my AO3 hehe. This is genuinely my favorite fic I've ever written, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do :) <3
“It’s okay, pretty girl. You can take it, can’t you? You made a big show of defying me earlier, put your money where your mouth is - right?”
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You threw open the door to his dorm, instantly honing in on his bed and diving into the soft plush. Jason is sitting at his desk, looking up at you from his book with a roll of his eyes at your dramatic entrance. 
“Well, hello to you too.” His tone is dripping with sarcasm, but his smile betrays his facade. “It’s nice to see you again, stranger. How long has it been, hm?” He teases, his words alluding to the fact that you’ve been spending less time with him lately in favor of being with your “new boy toy” - as he put it.
You let out a hum into the comforter before moving to your side to properly look at him. “Well I think you’ll be very happy to hear that I’m all yours again, Todd, so there’s no need to be jealous.” You cheekily reply. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” His eyebrows knit together in confusion. You thought it made him look adorable.
“I broke up with my ‘boy toy’, as you so politely called him.” You giggled out, using your fingers as quotation marks for emphasis. 
“What!? What happened?” Jason’s eyes widened at the news you so casually dropped.
“Apparently he’s been cheating on me for some time. My friend showed me some pictures of him shoving his tongue down some girl’s throat at a party so I broke it off with him this morning. Anyways, what’s been going on in Jay-Land?” You grin widely as you gaze at him from the bed.
Your attempt at changing the topic of conversation went unsuccessful. 
Jason sat up from his spot, setting his book down before hurriedly making his way over to you, settling down beside you on the bed.
“Are you okay?”
“Don’t I seem okay to you? I’m just fine, dude.” You tried to reassure him, your voice unwavering and relaxed as your eyes followed him.
“I mean, I guess; but I thought you really liked him.” 
“It seems like you want me to be sad over this. What do you want me to say? ‘Tears seven times salt burn the sense and virtue from mine eyes!’” You gasp out the line dramatically, bringing a hand to cover your heart and the other to wipe non-existent tears from your face, before bursting out into giggles. 
“Don’t you go quoting Shakespeare at me! That’s my role in this friendship!” Jason playfully nudges your shoulder as a wide grin breaks out on his own face.
“The Jason doth protest too much, methinks.” You do your best to put on a snooty tone, but your laughter prevents it. 
“Oh, shut up.” 
Another round of cackles start up between the two of you, and you both relish in the comfortable silence that falls after. 
“You know,” You start, breaking the silence and making Jason’s head turn towards you. “There is one thing I’m sad about.”
“What?”
“His dick game was mad good.” You say with an extravagant sigh. “I’m gonna miss it.” You fake a few sniffles.
“Aw, come on now. There’s other dick out there.” 
“Nah, it’s too much work. I’ll just have to survive without it for now. ‘But I have that within which passeth show; these but the trappings and the suits of woe.’”
“I can’t believe he’s got you so cock-drunk that you’re quoting Hamlet.” Jason tsks out in false disapproval. “He’s not good enough to be depressed for.”
“He’s not, but the sex definitely was.” 
“It couldn’t have been that good.”
“It was.”
“Not better than what I could do though.”
“Ehhhhhh…” You squinch your face together in overplayed disbelief, causing him to fix you with a sharp glare and a hurt gasp. 
“Is that a challenge?” He smirked, his eyes narrowing in competitiveness. 
“I know it not ‘seems’.” 
“You cheeky motherfucker.” Jason smiles out before grabbing your waist and throwing you further up the bed. It causes you to let out a startled yelp as Jason moved to hover over your body.
“Oh? You gonna prove it to me, Todd? You must be overcompensating for something if you get this riled up over such a small comment. You know, if you wanted to fuck me - you could have just asked.”
“Funny, I was about to say the exact same thing.” He leans in to bite your neck, making your body jolt against his.
“Hey! Play nice, Todd.” You scold, slapping his shoulder before wrapping your arms around his neck.
“I’m ever so sorry, madam.” He fake pouts before attacking your face with kisses. 
“Stop!” You squeal out, giggles erupting uncontrollably from the ticklish sensation. You move your hands to his chest, pushing him away from you. “Are you ever gonna get on with it, or are you just gonna keep messing around?”
“That’s a fair thought: to lie between maids’ legs.” 
“Ugh, it doesn’t sound as good when you do it.” 
“Excuse you? I’m a Shakespeare quoting champ!” 
“You’re awfully defensive today, Todd.” You note with a grin. 
“Keep talking, princess, see what happens.” He jokingly warns. 
He pulls back from you to pull his shirt over his head, before going to tug at his pants. You follow after him, sitting up to discard your own clothing. Once you both are left in your underwear, Jason pushes you flat against the bed again. 
“Spiderman panties. Cute.” 
“Shut up. It’s not like I planned for this to happen.” You grumbled out at his observation. You forgot about them and your cheeks burned with embarrassment.
“Mhm, sure, sweetheart.”
Jason starts planting sloppy kisses on your skin, trailing his way down your body until he’s reached your waistband. He shuffles down the bed and lies down between your legs, leaning in to snatch the fabric of your underwear between his teeth and ripping it off your legs. 
“Jay! I liked that pair!”
“My bad, princess, I’ll be sure to buy you some new ones.”
“Better still be spiderman.”
“I’m more Team Cap.” He disserts before gripping your thighs and dragging your core closer to his face; the back of your calves rest on his shoulders. 
His eyes drag down your glistening pussy before he lets out a loud wolf whistle at the sight.
“Ew, Todd!” You laugh, trying to kick him for the action but the hold he has on you is too tight to allow movement. 
“What? I’m just appreciating the view.”
He dips his head down, tongue flicking at your hooded clit before he wraps his lips and around the bud and sucks. He feels your thighs tighten around his head as your own tilts up to let out a loud moan. He replaces his tongue with his fingers, expertly working the nub in circles as he peers up at you. 
Your head is turned to the side, eyes clenched and lips spilling shaky whines. 
‘A damn nice sight’, if he did say so himself.
He continues to stimulate your clit with his thumb, pressing his tongue to your dripping hole to lap up your arousal. 
“Fuck, Jason! You really know how to put the money where your mouth is,” You mumble into the sheets, hips bucking up every once in a while from the pleasure. 
Jason grips you tighter, preventing you from moving. He briefly looks up to note “I think you’ll find I know how to use my mouth quite well”, before moving to continue eating you out.
His actions are faster, more feverous. His tongue runs up and down your sex, your slick coating his taste buds. He savors it - lets out a deep hum that reverberates through your pussy and up your spine, sending shivers through your body. He sucks and slurps at you, so passionate that you swear you can feel your soul escaping through your cunt. The wet smacks do nothing but turn you on more, your thighs pressing closer to his head and acting as earmuffs. 
Your hands move from their place bunched in his sheets to his hair, tanging the dark locks between your fingers and instinctively tugging. It causes a low groan to tear from his throat, the bass and depth of it fueling the uncontrollable hot ache in your stomach. That only makes you want to do it again. The second tug makes a sound that’s akin to a growl, before Jason pauses his movements to stare up at you.
“Careful, princess. Don’t bite off more than you can chew.” 
It’s a sight to behold. Jason: heaving, eyes blown, his face shiny from your smeared slick. His mouth is open, panting - his gaze refusing to leave contact with yours. There’s mischief glimmering in the depth of his eyes. 
You don’t reply - only smirk, and yank his head closer to your sex again. 
“Oh, you’ve done it now.” 
His hand moves from your clit to your dripping hole, two fingers pushing their way inside you. His lips reattach to your clit as he starts to move his fingers - fast and rough and leaving you no time to adjust to his intrusion. 
“J-Jesus fuck!” He can feel your thighs twitching, can feel your fingers gripping onto his hair hard in response, and it only spurs him on more. 
His palm smacks against your cunt with each hit, splattering your slick. His fingers move at an unfathomable speed, pads searching for that one spot inside you that will make you see white. 
You’re whimpering and whining above him, senses overwhelmed at Jason’s rough ministrations. It’s too much: the pressure building inside you. It feels like you’re on the edge, senses ready to fall into a never-ending pit of endorphins and fear and exhilaration. There are fireworks inside you, lit and ready to burst and fry all of your sensibilities. 
Finally, it happens - what Jason’s been waiting for. With a slightly tilted angle of his hand and a curl of his fingers, he finds it. He knows because you suddenly tense up; because you let out the most angelic, strung-out moan he’s ever heard; because your walls clamp down on his fingers and a jet of tangy, sweet liquid hits his awaiting tongue. 
God he wishes he could watch you cum over and over and over. He’s gonna think back to this moment when he’s fucking his fist in the future - that’s for sure. The view of you - back arched, eyes teary. The sensation of you - warm and wet and tight against his digits. The sound of you - desperate and high pitched and wailing out his name. He wants it all burned into his brain.
“Jason, Jason!” Yeah, that’s the sound of heaven alright. “Jay! Stop! I came- I can’t!”
Hm?
Oh. He hasn’t stopped pumping his fingers inside you. Oh, well.
“It’s okay, pretty girl. You can take it, can’t you? You made a big show of defying me earlier, put your money where your mouth is - right?”
God, you’re shaking. You look like a leaf shivering in the wind, or a cat left out in the rain. Your eyes are glossy and teary and fuck. You look so beautiful falling apart for him. 
Your brain is in shambles, screaming and begging for a reprieve. It’s dizzying, the assault of your sensations. All you can hear, think, feel is Jason.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please!”
“Come on, princess. Just let go. Just one more for me, yeah?”
You can’t tell if the second orgasm hits you like a train or slowly drowns you in its weight. Maybe a mix of both - a crashing of a tsunami that simultaneously relieves your ache and steals your breath. 
You’re sobbing, trembling, gasping for breath and trying to regain feeling from the clouds that seem to have replaced your nerves. 
“You did so well.” Jason cooes. He’s sitting up, suckling your juices from his fingers like you were a decadent 5-star meal.
He moves to lay down beside you, pulling your body to curl into his, back to peppering your cheeks with chaste, affectionate kisses. 
“Fuck, Jason.” You heave out, still slightly out of it. 
“Was that okay? Did I get carried away?” He questions softly, concern lacing the green in his eyes. 
“Yeah, no, that was great.” You quickly reassure him. “I just- wow. I need a moment.” 
He chuckles quietly before holding you close to his body again. “So? Did I exceed your expectations?”
“Don’t get cocky. Hubris was the downfall of Macbeth.” You shuffle closer to him. “Speaking of cocky, is that a dagger - or are you just happy to see me?”
“I’m always happy to see you princess,” Jason croons. “but I am extremely rock hard right now, too.”
Your hands drift down his body, sensually tracing every muscle from his chest to his pelvis, before tugging off his boxers.
You swing your body on top of his, straddling his waist as you begin pumping his cock. 
“Well then” You start, positioning yourself on top of his awaiting member, “O’ happy dagger, this is thy sheath…”
You start to sink down on him as you finish the quote, your words trailing off into a wanton moan. 
“I’d yell at you for saying something so stupid if you weren’t fucking squeezing my cock right now.” Jason manages to huff out. His teeth are gritted, eyes shut as he tries not to cum at the sensation of you wrapped warm and tight around him. 
His large hands settle on your waist as yours plant themselves on his chest for support. 
“You have to admit, it’s clever wordplay.” You mewl, mind fuzzy from the sensation of his dick stretching you out. 
Tingles shoot up your body as the pain dissolves into a delicious fullness. You crave friction, your very core feels like it's aching for it. In fact, you think you’ll go insane if you don’t start moving right now. 
You carefully lift your hips up, before dropping back down again, repeating the motion over and over until you’ve built up a somewhat regular rhythm. 
Moans ceaselessly flow from your lips, interspersed with mumbled swears and curses.
Your head is tipped forward, your hair falling into your face. Jason’s hand comes up to brush it back behind your ear, before gently cupping your cheek.
“You feel so good baby, fuck.” He grunts.
His other hand comes up to undo your bra, releasing your tits to him. Both palms move to cup them, kneading at the soft flesh before working your perked nipples with his fingers. 
You still your movements with a whine, too confounded by the assault of stimulations you were feeling. That doesn’t mean that you’re not still desperate and yearning, though. Your thighs do their best to rub against each other, trying to chase friction despite your inaction. 
It’s only as you rest that you feel how sore your legs have become, enough that you let out a pitiful mewl. 
“Is my pretty baby tired?” Jason muses, while he’s still pinching and rolling your sensitive buds. 
“Mhm,” You moan out in reply. 
He quickly rolls the both of you over, laying you down onto your back again before flipping you onto your stomach. 
You quickly shuffle onto your knees, arching back against him in wait. 
“Good girl,” He laughs out. His palms rub against your cheeks, squeezing the flesh there before pulling back and giving it a slap. 
It earns him a broken moan from your throat, and the view of your ass shaking in desperation.
It only makes him laugh again. “Have some patience, naughty girl.”
He spanks you again, and you keen so high-pitched and pretty that he can only relent to your demands. 
Jason grips his cock and guides it to your wet folds, sliding it up and down before finally pushing in. You welcome him easily, pussy molding perfectly to his thick cock. 
A hand settles on your waist while the other tangles into your hair. He yanks your head back as he starts fucking you hard and fast. 
His hips smack hard against your ass with each thrust, slowly turning the skin there sore and heated. His cock is bullying its way in and out of you, the tip knocking against your sweet spot with a force that repeatedly knocks the breath and thoughts out of you. 
Your eyes are rolled back, brain melted, as drool drips from your lips. 
Chants of “fuck” and “Jay” are the only sounds your mouth remembers how to make now. 
“Just keep saying my name like that, sweetheart.” Jason pants out. 
He can’t believe how good you feel around him. You’re so warm and wet that his cock glides in and out so easy, making it effortless for him to abuse your poor cunt. 
The hand in your hair guides you up to him, back pressed against his sweaty chest as he tilts your head and leans in for a kiss. 
It’s messy with your spit and drool, both your movements uncoordinated and sloppy. 
He fucks up into you all the while, gravity allowing him to hit harder and deeper inside you.
He can feel that you’re close again - your body is twitching against him, your cunt beginning to spasm. 
The hand on your waist reaches to rub quick and hard circles against your clit, and you’re gone.
Your whole body shudders as you soak his cock, before going limp is his hold. It’s an intense buzzing sensation that overtakes you, settling deep in your veins until you’re trapped in a pleasing static. Your head is submerged in sticky syrup that makes it hard to think, so you just indulge in the calming weight of it. 
Jason pulls out and gently maneuvers your dazed body back to the bed, hand working himself to completion before finishing on your stomach - his warm cum splattering on the skin as he lets out a husky grunt.
He stays there, catching his breath for a few moments before he disappears to the bathroom while you come down from your high, washing his hands and grabbing a damp towel to bring back to you. 
He wipes you clean before poking your cheek until your gaze refocuses on him.
“How was it?” He cheekily smirks. 
“I certainly died a lovely death in thy lap,” You chuckle.
“If you can still quote Shakespeare I didn’t fuck you dumb enough.” Jason frowns.
“Awh, cheer up, you big baby.” You reach out to pat his head endearingly, “I change my mind; your dick game is definitely better.”
“YES!” Jason fist-pumps like he just scored a touch-down and you smile at how stupid he looks. “Okay, now you go pee.” He shoos you away. “I’ll change the sheets and we can watch reruns of Gossip Girl again.”
“I would not wish any companion in the world but you.” You fake tear-up, wiping your eyes before giggling the whole way to the bathroom. 
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Thank you so much for reading! A comment or reblog is much appreciated. Have a great day <3
- sumi ☆ミ
ミ☆ masterlist
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lnlightning81 · 21 days
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The Drivers - Part 1
Series Title : Younger Sister (TBC)
Summary: Being Lando Norris' sister made it surprising that it was one of your only visits to the paddock. Ollie made sure to introduce you to all the drivers and show you about.
Pairing/s: Oliver Bearman x Norris!Reader, Lando Norris x Sister!reader , Grid x Norris!Reader
Word Count : 1.2k
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Oliver Bearman Masterlist
Lando Norris Masterlist
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It wasn’t exactly hard being Lando’s sister, especially when you hardly went to races. Silverstone just never matched up with when you could take holidays from your part time job and the break from school but now you were close to finishing high school and had left your part time job to travel with Lando -with him paying for literally everything because what else should brother’s do?- 
The last couple of days of school and you finally decided it was time for you to change your phone wallpaper back to your favourite picture of yourself and Lando. When Lando got moved into F1, you changed your phone wallpaper back to a less obvious picture of yourself and Lando, so you didn’t get people wanting to be your friend just because of Lando. 
Now you were at the first race you had been to in a long while -Silverstone- sat in the Mclaren garage just wanting to annoy Lando as a little sister should do but he was interviewing and you didn’t want to be in front of the camera. That’s when you saw Max walk past the garage alone. Max was basically a brother he’d been about since as long as you could remember. 
“Max” you called before jumping on his back 
“Missing LN, are we?” He asked, and you nodded 
“Lan left me in the garage alone” you pouted, and he chuckled 
“What are you going to do when you’re the only one with him?” He asked, starting to walk again. 
“Where are you going?” You asked him, resting your head on his shoulder 
��Going to find your brother to return his property” He joked, and you slapped his arm. Max laughed as he walked to the media pen, stopping next to Lando and dropping you onto the floor 
“Your property, I believe” Max tapped your head before walking away
“Lan I’m bored” You whine, and his PR manager laughed 
“You didn’t bring anything to keep her entertained?” His PR manager asked 
“I thought she’d find some random F2 driver’s girlfriend to talk to, but obviously not” I pouted, shoving him away 
“I don’t know if they’re just random people or girlfriends and family” You shrugged, and he nodded 
“Fair point, I guess. Come on I’ll introduce you to Ollie he’s over there” You nodded, following behind him as he walked away, gripping onto his wrist 
“Y/N no one’s gonna kidnap you” He laughed, and you gripped his wrist tighter
“But it’s so busy, and I don’t know where I’m going” You whine as he comes to a sudden stop, causing you to bump into his back. 
“Ollie” the older sibling smiled at the younger boy, who was just happily sipping on his drink
“Oh hey Lando. Y/N” He smiled, looking up 
“Hey” You smiled back at him
“You already know Ollie?” Lando questioned, and you nodded
“I’ve not been avoiding Formula racing all together or living under a rock” You shrugged
“And he knows you?” Lando looked between the two of you.
“Ollie follows me on instagram. I became quite the popular girl at school” You giggle thinking back to prom when you were being questioned on how you were now followed by not only Lando but Oliver Bearman. What Lando didn’t need to know is that you two were secretly texting and had plans to go for ice cream after his sprint race while Lando was doing whatever practice. 
“Okay well bye. I’ll see you in an hour” Lando walked away, and that’s when it became awkward 
“You’ve definitely not been to a race in a while” Ollie chuckled, taking your smaller hand in his larger hand and moving you out of the media pen.
“They’re scary. There’s always so many people here, and I never know who I’m allowed to be talking to” you pouted 
“Come on I’ll introduce you to the drivers, some of them anyway” Ollie led you back into the paddock and in between all the different motorhomes starting with Ferrari as he was meant to be in there anyway.
“We’ll start with Ferrari because at least if you get lost, you can’t miss the bright red” He grinned, leading you inside and over to a couple of people talking. Charles and Carlos. You obviously knew who the drivers were. They just didn’t know who you were. 
“Done with your interviews?” Charles asked, and Ollie nodded
“Yeah, I finished those. Now I’m showing Y/N about the place” He smiled as both the Ferrari drivers looked at you. 
“Girlfriend?” Carlos asked, and Ollie shook his head as you laughed 
“Lando’s sister. I don’t know how I ended up with her” Ollie replied, and you looked up at him slightly offended
“Lando’s sister?” Charles repeated, and you nodded 
“Lando has another sister?” Carlos asked. 
“We didn’t meet while you were teammates. I was still quite busy with school. It’s been my first race for a while. I don’t know many people here” you replied as he nodded slowly 
“You look like Lando, to be honest” Charles tilted his head 
“It’s the curls” You shrugged as Ollie took your hand again 
“Next garage” He cheered, pulling you out. You gave a polite wave to the Ferrari drivers as Ollie pulled you to the Red Bull garage. You knew Max. When you stayed with Lando during holidays or lockdown, he would stream with Max. 
“Hey Y/N” Max smiled, wrapping you in a hug
“Finally! A familiar face” You hummed hugging him back 
“What happened to me introducing you to everyone?” Ollie asked, and you smiled, turning to look at him as you pulled back from the hug 
“Max and Lando are like best friends. Lando has a thing about people called Max” You joked as Max Fewtrell walked up behind you
“What about us Max’s?” He asked, causing you to jump and let out a scream 
“Bog off Max” you replied 
“Ohh not the Tracy Beaker line” He joked, and you rolled your eyes. Both Lando and Max still had a thing about you swearing, not like you were legally an adult, so you resorted to saying ‘Bog off’
“Are you lost? Do I need to carry you back to Lando”? He asked, and you shook your head
“Ollie is showing me about and introducing me to different people” You smiled, and he nodded, ruffling your hair 
“Well P is lost, so I’m gonna go find her. Be safe” Max walked off as Checo joined 
“Ah Checo this is Lando’s youngest sister Y/N” The Dutch man introduced you, and you smiled at Checo 
“Nice to meet you” you hummed, looking at Ollie for help. Checo and Lando weren’t exactly the best of friends. 
Ollie continued to introduce you to different drivers until it was time for him to return you to Lando - that was Lando’s words - so now you were following Ollie back to the Mclaren garage. He stopped outside, and you smiled at him 
“Thank you for showing me about” You thanked him, and he nodded
“Are we still up for ice cream tomorrow?” He asked, and you nodded 
“We are. But you’re coming to me. I still don’t know where I’m going” you replied 
“Then I’ll meet you outside here?” You smiled with a nod as Lando walked out the garage 
“Home time” He cheered, and you laughed, waving bye to Ollie as Lando walked you out of the paddock as he talked to Oscar. 
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Next Part
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864 notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 6 months
Note
hi lovely!! i love your writing sm, was wondering if i could request poly! marauders x shy! reader!! like they try to fluster her whenever they can, maybe leading to smut? totally okay if not, just thought i’d ask, hope you’re well <3
Thanks for requesting!
poly!marauders x shy!reader ♡ 625 words
“He-llo, gorgeous,” Sirius says as you walk into the boys’ dorm, and you know instantly that it’s going to be a trying afternoon. “Who gave you permission to look that good on a Tuesday, huh?”
You feel blood rush to your face, but you put all the severity you can into one word as you sit on Remus’ bed, far as you can get from your smirking boyfriend. “Quit.” 
You should have known it would only encourage him. Sirius arches one eyebrow, smile spreading like a blight across his pretty face. “Oh I see. Feeling bold today, are we? Wanna repeat that, pretty girl?” 
You don’t, actually. Your daily quota of boldness has hit its limit.
Sirius is downright gleeful at your silence. “Aw, come on. I love it when you boss me around, sweetheart. Moony, isn’t she cute when she tells us what to do?” 
“I wouldn’t know.” Remus’ voice is quiet behind you, lilting in that way it gets when he’s particularly amused. “She never does it with me.” 
James laughs from where he’s digging through his wardrobe, fishing out a pair of sweats to change into from his robes. “Only you, Pads. You’re the only one who pushes her that far.” 
“Mm, but she gives up too easily.” You can hear the pout in Sirius’ voice, can feel his stare boring into the top of your head, but you don’t look up from where you’ve begun picking your nails. 
“Hey.” Remus’ hand wraps around yours, shielding your fingertips from one another. You tense. “Don’t do that.” 
“Sorry,” you say, but the word is barely audible, barely more than breath. 
“What was that?” You can feel him shifting around you on the bed. When you still won’t look up, he slides to the floor, crouching in front of you to capture your eyes. “Look at me, darling.” 
You do, for the half of a second it takes for him to smirk, and then you realize his game, the sneaky bastard. You can feel your heartbeat in your face. You know you have to be red as a stop sign, but neither Remus or Sirius will heed you. 
You look to James, your softhearted angel, for help. Remus chuckles, hand flattening against the side of your knee to rub soothingly, but you know better than to fall for that now. After a few moments of silence, James glances over. His eyes soften into warm brown mush when he sees the plea on your face. 
“Aw, sweetheart,” he coos, forgoing his search for a shirt and opening his arms as he comes your way. “Are they being cruel?” 
You’re not ready to commit to slander, but you accept his hug readily. He steals you from Remus’ grasp, taking you into his hold and scrubbing a hand up and down your spine while he laughs. 
“You should be ashamed of yourselves,” he teases the other boys, palm steadfast on your back. “Ganging up on our poor girl like that.” 
“Hey, I just wanted her to know that she looks nice,” Sirius says, and without removing your face from James’ neck you can picture his don’t-shoot gesture. “Anyway, it seems like she got what she wanted in the end.” 
James’ laughter starts up again, a low rumble in his chest that has you tensing warily. “Ah, I think I understand,” he says, voice turning smooth as velvet. “You just wanted to feel me up while I’m shirtless, is that right, sweetheart?” 
You make a quiet, miserable sound, slumping against him despondently as his shoulders shake underneath you. 
“You little pervert,” James goes on, teasing tone at odds with the steady patting of his hand on your back. “Lucky for you I’m willing to be objectified, you freak.” 
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dilemmaontwolegs · 6 months
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F.I.N.E || MV1
Pairing: Max Verstappen x teacher!reader Summary: When your student gets injured and you can’t get hold of her parents you try call an old contact number hoping he can help. Warnings: slight angst, fluff WC: 3.4K
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Max frowned at the unfamiliar number calling him. If it wasn’t for the fact it was a local number he would have ignored it but since few people had his personal number he decided to answer it. Immediately he was hit with the sound of high pitch cries and a soothing voice softly singing a lullaby that eased the knot of anxiety that had formed in an instant. 
“Hello, is this Max?” you asked when you realised the dual tone had stopped and the call had been answered. You shifted the child carefully on your lap and grabbed the old enrolment form to see the name again. “Max Verstappen?”
“Maxy?” the girl in your arms echoed with confusion.
“Yes, who is this?”
“Miss Y/L/N, I’m one of Penelope’s teachers. There’s been an incident and I found your number under her emergency contact list.”
“Oh no, sorry, there must be a mistake. You should call her mother or father. I’m not, we’re not, um, I shouldn’t be on that list anymore.”
You cringed as another piercing cry deafened your ear and you rubbed the little girl's back. “It hurts,” she whimpered.
“I know, sweetheart, someone will be here to get you shortly,” you replied softly and you hoped it was the truth. “Look, Max, I’ve tried every other contact number and no one is answering. Is there any way you could come down here? At least until I can get in touch with someone else.”
Max pinched the bridge of his nose but when he heard P’s shuddering cry he knew he had to go. “Okay, I’ll be there shortly.”
Max didn’t care if he got a parking ticket, he took the loading space right outside the preschool building. He likely would have gotten a speeding ticket too in his rush to cross the city but thankfully there weren’t any police in his path. 
“Maxy!” 
Penelope wriggled in your arms as she spotted the stranger walking into the classroom. His eyes immediately found her and he crossed the space to where you sat holding her.
“Hey, P,” he greeted with a smile and knelt down at your height. “What’s happened, bug?”
Her little eyes welled up again as she lifted her bandaged wrist. “I fell off the playground.”
“I don’t think anything is broken but I would suggest having her doctor check to be sure.”
“I don’t know who her doctor is. I don’t even know what I’m doing here.”
“You’re contact details were-”
“Those must have been from when she started. Her mother and I haven’t been together for a while.”
“Oh, I see. I’m sorry to put this on you. I swear I tried every other phone number we have.”
Max nodded and his sigh sounded exhausted as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I just need to make a call. I’ll be back in a minute, bug.”
Max walked along the room, looking over the children’s artwork as he pressed his phone to his ear and waited. Eventually the call went to voicemail and his spine straightened tensely. “Kel, I’ve picked up P from daycare and I’m taking her to the hospital. Call me when you get this.”
You could see the man was stressed when he returned and his short hair pointed in all directions from the hand he kept nervously running through it. It was cute.
“Daniil is in Italy this week for work,” Max said as he returned to your side and picked up Penelope’s Prada backpack before opening his arms. “I’ll keep trying to get a hold of Kelly. Come on, bug.”
Lunchtime was coming to an end and children were starting to file back into the room, a few of the older ones stopping at staring wide eyed at Max. He was tall but not that tall or formidable to draw such a reaction but your question was answered when one of the boys ran to his picture on the wall. Timothée unpinned the drawing of a race car and ran up to Max, holding it out with a pencil.
“Sir, can you please sign this?”
Max looked used to the attention and took the pen with a polite, “Sure.” He stared at the picture for the moment after signing it and chuckled. “Is the RB20?”
Timothée nodded eagerly. “It’s my favourite.”
“Mine too,” he said as handed the picture back and smiled as it was crushed happily to the boy's chest. Max then carefully picked up Penelope, slowly so she wasn’t jostled, and his arms brushed yours. 
“If you need anything you have my number,” you reminded as the weight was lifted from your lap. “Children can be a little overwhelming if you’re not used to it.”
Max smiled fondly at Penelope and shook his head. “This isn’t new. I still have her room set up.”
“You do?” Penelope asked hopefully and Max turned his head as he cursed to himself. “Are we going to live with you again?”
“No, no, sorry, P,” he said softly. “I just haven’t had time to redecorate.”
“Oh.” You both winced at the defeated tone and you knew the fresh tears had nothing to do with her arm this time but you were saved by the bell as it spurred Max to toss the bag over his shoulder and look to the door.
“I hope you feel better soon, Penelope.”
“Thank you, Miss Y/L/N.”
“Thank you,” Max echoed with a nod before departing.
All afternoon you were distracted with thoughts of the two of them until the final bell rang and you grabbed your phone. You had sporadically tried to contact Daniil and Kelly again but the calls went straight to voicemail every time and you found no returned calls.
Y/N: How is Penelope? Max: She is happy watching The Little Mermaid. She has a sprained wrist and the nurse complemented the bandaging so you should be proud. Y/N: And how are you? Max: I’m fine.
Max swore as the pot of water boiled over and he hissed as he grabbed the handle to find it was just as hot. He dropped his phone reaching for the teatowel and then P started calling out from the living room complaining that the movie was boring - the same movie she watched a thousand times and she had specifically asked for.
Y/N: My mentor used to tell me that stood for: freaked out, insecure, neurotic and emotional. Are you sure you are fine?
After turning the stove down to a simmer and wiping up the mess of water that had splashed across his floor he went and changed the movie to what would hopefully last longer than ten minutes before she changed her mind. Taking another attempt at making dinner, he grabbed a bag of pasta from his pantry and poured its entirety into the pot.
Max: I’m thinking I am definitely neurotic and possibly starting to freak out. Y/N: I couldn’t have that on my conscience. My offer still stands if you need some help. Max: You don’t have anyone you need to get home to? Y/N: My cat prefers his own company unless he’s hungry and he’s already been fed today so no. Max: I don’t want you to go out of your way. Y/N: I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t willing to follow through. Let me help. Please?
Max smiled at his phone before sending his address and looking around to see how tidy the place was. His jacket was tossed on the table instead of being hung up and Penelope’s bag was spilled across the entryway floor, not the first impression he wanted to make.
You entered the port address into your phone and locked the classroom behind you, feeling a little unsteady at the thought of seeing Max again. Penelope was a sweet child and she seemed comfortable with Max but you hadn’t really ever heard her talk about him before. You told yourself the only reason you were going there was to check on your student's wellbeing, but a small part of you wanted to see Max again.
You wondered if maybe he hadn’t heard your knock on the door or that you had the wrong apartment and you rapped your knuckles on it again before he called out. There was a crash and then a groan close to the door before it swung open and Max balanced on one leg.
“Uh, is everything okay?” you asked as he clutched his foot.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he rushed before he caught the teasing curl of your brow and he froze before a smile grew on his lips. “Right, freaked out, insecure, neurotic and emotional.”
“You’re a quick learner.” You stepped inside at his invitation and he closed the door behind you while you rushed towards the burning smell in the kitchen. “Oh, wow.”
“Fucksake,” Max grumbled as he grabbed a wet tea towel before reaching for the tray of garlic bread in the oven. “Ouch, shit!”
“You said a naughty word,” Penelope called out from the next room like it was something that she regularly commented on. “That's another 20.”
Max sighed heavily as he looked at a jar on the bench that was already filled with cash. “Shit.”
“I heard that.”
“Shouldn’t you be watching your movie?”
You giggled at the amusing conversation before turning the tap to cold and taking Max’s hand. “Wet towels and hot trays make steam.”
He watched you guide his hand under the water and flinched as it hit the burn mark on his palm. “I don’t usually cook, if you couldn’t tell.”
“The life of a bachelor. Keep your hand there.” You moved with ease around his kitchen trying to save what was left of dinner but paused at a huge pot of pasta that had swelled up and pushed the lid half off. “Are you expecting a dozen other people?”
Max shrugged innocently. “I didn’t know how much to put in.”
“Well the good news is the top half is edible,” you stated after finding a colander and draining the pasta until only a thick layer remained stuck to the bottom of the pot. “Do you have any sauce?”
“Sauce?”
“What were you going to have with it?”
“Garlic bread.” You both looked at the charred sticks still smoking on the baking tray.
“Do you mind?” you asked as you pointed to his fridge and the cupboards around the kitchen.
“No, please. Go ahead.”
You checked the fridge first and you were pleasantly surprised to find it well stocked with fresh fruit and vegetables. “Do you live off salads or does all this go to waste?”
“Neither, my nutritionist comes by twice a week and he prepares the meals.”
For a moment you had forgotten his profession. You had googled his name after Timothée couldn’t stop talking about meeting the ‘Max Verstappen’. “That must be intense, and restricting. Does your social life suffer?”
“It’s not so bad. I still get to go out for dinner and have a few drinks when I want.” He started to pull his hand out from under the water but you tutted and caught his wrist, holding it back beneath the cold stream.
“Keep still,” you warned with a voice you saved for children who weren’t listening. “It needs 20 minutes under there.”
“You want me to stand here for twenty minutes?”
“No, science wants you to stay there for twenty minutes.”
“Are you a teacher or a nurse?” he asked with a playful roll of his eyes.
“Depends if it's halloween.”
His loud laugh made you smile and you eased your grip on his hand one finger at a time to see if he would stay where he was. He did. “I’ll behave, Miss Y/L/N.”
“You can call me Y//N.”
“I kind of like calling you Miss Y/L/N.”
You checked to see if he was serious but thankfully there was a teasing smile on his face before you returned to the fridge to gather some ingredients.
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By some small miracle dinner can’t have been too bad since everyone cleaned their plates of the pasta, though you thought they were likely being polite since you could still taste the hint of smoke from the bottom of the pan. Penelope had spent most of the meal asking Max if he remembered what they used to do when she lived there, how they used to go travelling and shopping. You got to see first hand how much patience the man had as he answered each question despite how it made him uncomfortable.
“You miss her,” you commented after she had gone back to the tv. Max started to collect the dishes with you and sighed as he placed them in the sink. 
“It was a big change when they moved out,” he spoke quietly and you stepped closer so you could hear better. “She kept asking if she did something wrong.”
“That must have been hard for you.” His eyes widened and you wondered what shocked him, but you had a feeling it was the fact someone showed concern for him. Even though you didn’t know the details of the break up, it was clear he had and still did care for Penelope and you felt sorry for him. “Can I hug you? I’m a hugger and I feel like you could really do with one.”
“You want to hug me?”
You tried to shrug it off casually. “If you want to. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Everyone needs a hug sometime.”
“I do,” he said quickly, very quickly, before he cleared his throat. “I mean, I-I wouldn’t mind a hug.”
You smiled at his tentativeness and stepped into his personal space, slipping your hands into the narrow openings between his limp arms and his body to curl around his waist. It took a moment for him to respond before his own arms embraced the comfort and curled around your back too.
“You smell really good, Max,” you complimented as you rested your head on his chest and caught the scent of his cologne.
“Thank you,” he chuckled, the amusement relaxing him even more until his entire body curved into yours. “I think you have playdough in your hair.”
You hummed in agreement. “Highly likely. You wouldn’t believe the places I find that stuff at the end of the day, glitter too.”
His bold laugh made you smile and you didn’t care it was at your own expense, you were just happy to know it was because of you. Unfortunately you didn’t have the chance to hear it again as his phone rang from the countertop and you saw Kelly’s name light up the screen.
“I should let you get that,” you said as you stepped back, instantly missing the warmth and his scent. “I’ll go keep Penelope company.”
Max waited for you to leave the kitchen before he accepted the call, his calm state evaporating in an instant. “What the hell, Kelly? Where have you been?”
“My phone was on flight mode, I was on a plane. Is P okay?”
“Her wrist is sprained but she’s alright now.” Max pinched the bridge of his nose and reminded himself to breathe. “Why would you leave her alone?”
“She wasn’t alone. Maria was meant to pick her up after school and I should have been home in time for dinner but my flight was delayed.”
“Who is Maria?”
“Her nanny.”
Max had to suppress the groan at the news. He knew Daniil hated the idea of a nanny and he had offered to have more custody so that P would be raised by her parents and not a stranger, but Kelly had vetoed that idea.
“Do you want to go out for dinner? I owe you.”
“No, we’ve already eaten.”
“Some other time then.”
Max made a non-committal sound, his eyes darting to the living room where he watched Penelope explain the movie to you. You were so attentive and patient, asking questions that had Penelope thinking deeper and using such a simple interaction as a learning opportunity. He could see why you suited being a teacher.
“Maybe,” he lied, “just let me know when you’re almost here and I’ll bring P out to you, I don’t want to confuse her any more.”
“Right, of course,” Kelly sighed. “I’ll see you soon, Max.”
Max made the most of the time he had left with P, abandoning the dishes so he could sit on the other side of her and watch the movie about a chef rat. She had cozied into his side with a yawn and nudged his arm until he eventually draped it over her shoulder. It was completely innocent but you couldn’t help noticing the heat of his hand touching your arm, the warmth spreading like wildfire.
The fire was doused when his phone vibrated and the moment to leave had come.
While he grabbed Penelope’s backpack, you grabbed your handbag and prepared your own goodbyes. It was silly to feel sad the evening had come to an end but you knew that you would likely never see Max again. You weren’t famous and he didn’t have children, your paths weren’t meant to cross.
“Have a good weekend, Penelope,” you said as you knelt down and gave her a hug. “I’ll see you bright and early on Monday.”
“Bye, Miss Y/L/N.”
You rose to your feet wondering where you stood with Max until he opened his arms. “Anytime you need a hug, you have my number,” you offered as you stepped into his embrace, no matter how unlikely that prospect was.
“Or if I’m feeling fine?”
You giggled and nodded against his chest. “Especially if you’re feeling fine.”
The walk to the elevator was slow, as if no one wanted the strange evening to end, but there was no stopping time as it began making its way down from the penthouse to the ground floor. The doors opened and you instantly spotted Kelly in the reception area, her elegant and effortless beauty reminding you that you still had playdough in your hair.
With one last look at the man beside you, you gave him a small smile and stepped away. “Goodbye, Max.”
He didn’t respond as you headed to the valet area but he pulled his phone out of his pocket and yours vibrated a moment later.
Max: Are you okay?
Y/N: I’m fine.
Max: Me too. Emotional, you?
Y/N: Insecure.
Max: Want a hug?
You stopped and turned to see Max hand Penelope’s bag over before struggling to separate the girl from where she clung to his leg. She didn’t know, couldn’t see how it was hurting Max, but you could. So you waited, and when the mother and daughter had departed you stepped into the elevator with the subdued man, slipping your hand into his.
The elevator rose quickly and you watched Max’s throat bounce with the deep swallow he made before he choked out a broken, “Fuck.”
“I feel like I should remind you about the swear jar,” you teased as you bumped your shoulder gently against his arm. “But I’ll let you off this once because I have a soft spot for you.”
He looked down at you from the corner of his eye and you saw some of the sadness fading from them. “Does that make me the teacher's pet?”
You gasped dramatically and clutched your chest with your free hand. “I could never bestow such high praise after just one day.”
“What are your plans tomorrow then?” he asked with a smirk as the doors opened and he pulled his house key out of his pocket.
“I don’t have any.”
“Lovely, now are you going to answer my question?” He stepped inside the apartment and opened his arms. “Did you want a hug?”
Your smile chased away more of the shadows in his eyes and the last of it was erased when you stepped into his arms with an eager nod. “I will never say no to a hug.”
His chest bounced with a laugh and you felt him rest his cheek on your head with a contented sigh. “That is very good to know.”
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sttoru · 7 months
Note
toji making suggestive comments towards reader infront of newborn megumi, then reader getting mad at him telling him to never do it again 😭😭
⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff + suggestive themes. reader gets called ‘mama’.
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“don’t start.”
you knew it — just by taking one glance at your husband from your seat at the couch — you knew toji was up to no good. his hands in the pockets of his shorts, eyes half lidded whilst checking you out and the corner of his lip curled up into a menacing grin; he was seconds away from making inappropriate comments about you, to you.
“ain’t said nothin’ yet.” toji shrugs, smirk still in place. he sits down next to you on the couch and looks down at the baby who was curled up on your chest.
it was an adorable picture; to see the mother of his child being so nurturing and caring, so loving and content. it was an every day sight, yet those mundane moments intensified the urge to take you to the bedroom and shower you with his. . . affection.
megumi babbles something in the meantime, his saliva creating a wet spot on your shirt — which you don’t mind since you’ve gotten used to it, “what is it, ‘gumi? hmm? cutie.”
you giggle and tickle your little son gently. your focus was entirely on him instead of toji, who had already snuck an arm around your waist by the time you realised the proximity. his breath tickled your ear;
“you look so fuckin’ sexy right now, mama.”
you gasp in response. not at the seductive and flirtatious words your husband had whispered, but rather at the fact that he cussed in front of megumi. you made it a household rule — to try and swear less in front of your child. and yet there toji goes, breaking that rule a week after its made.
“toji. what’d i say about cussing in front of your child?” you warn with a glare, but that does nothing more than turn toji on more. he loved it when you bossed him around or had an attitude.
megumi’s babbles and coos had died down eventually. he was more engrossed by the way his parents were interacting in front of him. you didn’t seem as ‘happy’ with toji’s words, however, and that made the emergency alarms in the little baby’s head go off;
“bwah! bwah!” megumi’s smacks toji’s thigh with his tiny hand. the impact wasn’t rough, but the sound of the slap on toji’s bare skin sure made it seem like it was.
you grin as megumi comes to your ‘rescue’. the small slaps didn’t seem to stop until toji gave up and defeatedly redrew from you—scooting just a few inches away from his son and wife.
“got what you deserved.” you lightheartedly comment to your husband. megumi didn’t seem to stop there; the kid sticks his tongue out towards his father’s direction for a split second—rubbing salt into the wound.
“watch it, megumi. i’ll fight ya if it means i get y’r mommy’s attention.” the dark-haired man jokes with a smirk tugging at his lips, his fist gently and carefully making contact with megumi’s chubby cheek. the little boy huffs and instantly tries to nibble onto toji’s knuckles, which was incredibly adorable.
“oh-ho? seems like i finally have an opponent worth fighting. .” toji comments before lifting his hands up in the air, fingers bent at the knuckles, teeth bared — re-enacting a scary monster creature of some kind,
you watch the two with amusement; megumi wasn’t backing down at all and was flailing his arms in the air as toji slowly approaches him again, making tiny noises in protest. your husband was also making some noises, though less. . . cute. his were more growling like—it showed the dedication to his role, at least.
“got’cha! c’mere,” toji grins as he suddenly grabs and lifts megumi up in the air; putting him in air-jail as he likes to call it. the baby kicks and squeals, trying its best to get out, “now—are ya gonna let me show mama some affection or should we do this the hard way?”
megumi protests once more like he actually knows what was said to him and kicks his legs frantically, causing both toji and you to laugh at your baby’s antics.
you sat back and watch the two go back and forth like that for a good while, enjoying the moment. you felt all giddy seeing them interact and wanted nothing more than to kiss and cuddle with both.
and of course, you wished that precious moments like these would never come to an end any tjme soon.
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houseofceline · 5 months
Text
My Pretty Girl - T.N.
Stupid Potions Exam
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Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott
Warnings: None (yet ;))
Summary: Theo's not the one to tutor anyone but maybe he'll make an exception for a certain pretty girl?
&lt; 3
__________________
“Damn mate you starving?” Mattheo teased as Theo scarfed down a muffin that Lorenzo found in his backpack. 
Theo rolled his eyes as he finished chewing, “Hannah wouldn’t fucking leave my room this morning and made me miss breakfast.” 
“You still seeing her?” Lorenzo questioned with his eyebrows raised. 
“Seeing her is a bit of a stretch,” Theo replied, wanting to throw up at the mention of the girl. Sure she was a good fuck and all but he never understood why she had to throw a fit every morning after. It wasn’t the first time he threw her out in the morning, matter of fact it was everytime they slept together and yet the Slytherin girl still wanted to make a scene. 
“Should’ve seen the look on Malfoy’s face when she cried and looked towards him for help,” Theo laughed, recalling the frightened yet disgusted expression his roommate made at her cries. 
“You’re a gentleman for sure,” Mattheo spoke sarcastically as Theo chuckled at the statement. 
“Yeah definitely,” Theo replied back in the same tone. 
“Mate I’m definitely flunking tomorrow’s potions exam,” Lorenzo sighed as the trio approached the library. 
Theo knew that studying with these two idiots nothing would actually be done, but what else was there to do on a Thursday night? 
“Speak for yourself I’m ready to pass,” Mattheo boasted knowing that they had about the same grade in the class. 
The three Slytherins looked for a place to sit. 
The library was packed, it seemed like everyone in the damn castle was here preparing for some sort of exam tomorrow. 
“Found a spot,” Mattheo spoke up as Theo and Lorenzo followed behind him. 
“Mind if we sit here princess?” Mattheo asked as Theo moved beside him to see who he was talking to. 
Pretty girl from potions. What the fuck was he doing calling her princess?
“Princess? You two dating or something?” Theo teased even though this was the last thing he ever wanted to picture in his head. 
You looked away blushing while shaking your head. 
This was one of the worst ways you could’ve responded to his answer in his opinion. Theo wanted to drown Riddle first and then himself at the thought of you blushing over him. 
You didn’t think much of it. You knew that there were no actual romantic feelings between the two of you. You didn’t have any friends in history of magic and after meeting the two Slytherins they became your only friends in that class. 
Despite not giving Mattheo an actual answer to the question the three boys took seats at your table. 
Theo was quick to take a seat in front of you while Mattheo settled down beside you. 
“Oh we’re all studying for potions?” Lorenzo took a peak at your books. 
You sighed before pouting and nodding. 
“It’s the worst subject to ever exist.” 
Lorenzo nodded in agreement while Theo gasped. 
“Worst? It’s one of the easiest subjects,” Theo scoffed while you and Lorenzo gaped at him. 
“Tutor us then Nott,” Mattheo rolled his eyes as he took out his books as well. 
“No, go ask Malfoy.” 
You giggled at their interaction. 
If your laugh was the first thing you hear when you get to heaven Theo decided he was going to start being a better person. 
“No, Malfoy calls us stupid fucks everytime we get an answer wrong,” Lorenzo pretend to cry while the table next to us shushed him very loudly. 
“Damn okay.” 
“Open your damn book mate, you're the one that’s most likely to fail,” Mattheo said as he started to take notes. 
“Actually that might be me,” you mumbled quietly as you tried focusing on the same paragraph for the thousandth time. You had read it over and over again but it felt as if it was impossible to retain the actual information. 
“You good?” Theo whispered as he watched you stare blanking at the textbook. 
He was doing charms homework. He didn’t think he needed to study for potions as he felt comfortable in his naturally gifted abilities. It was like relying on common sense for him. 
You nodded hesitantly. Truth be told, you were so far from good. 
You were positive that you were not going to pass the exam tomorrow. Your Ravenclaw was not Ravenclawing. 
You couldn’t afford to get another bad mark since the exam would pretty much break or make your passing grade. 
Another lecture about grades from your parents was the last thing you needed when you were still trying to earn their support for your chosen career. 
Theo could tell you didn’t mean it. 
He looked over to Mattheo and pleaded for him to leave. 
He smirked before kicking Lorenzo’s leg motioning towards the two of you and then the doors. 
Thank merlin he got the hint and began packing his things up. 
“I’m feeling pretty tired, I need a nap break,” Lorenzo let out an award winning fake yawn as Mattheo nodded in agreement. 
“We’ll see you guys later,” Mattheo waved before nodding to Theo for good luck. 
Theo definitely owes them one. 
“Here I’ll help you,” Theo offered as he got up and took Mattheo’s seat. 
He scooted your chair closer and placed his arm around the back of your chair. 
You started to feel your face heat up at his close proximity and hoped he didn’t notice. 
He shifted the textbook towards the middle of you two before grabbing parchment and a quill from his backpack. 
“Here take some notes,” he handed them to you as you nodded obediently. 
“Wound-cleaning potion,” Theo began to read out loud to you as you started writing.
“Characteristics are as follows: purple, smoke and stung upon contact.” He listed and waited for you to finish writing before continuing. 
You mentally thanked him for putting everything into simpler terms for notes as you wrote down everything he said. 
Reading through the textbook it was hard to understand what the potion exactly was because it had so many words. 
He continued to read and stop every time he wanted you to write something down. 
In between your writings you couldn’t help but admire his face as his attention was fixated on the book. The dim lighting in the library made his jawline and face features stand out and appear sharper than normal. He looked so pretty. 
“Stir counterclockwise for five minutes,” Theo finished as he turned his head catching you looking at him. 
You immediately looked away and tried to hide your rosy cheeks as you wrote down what he had said. 
It didn’t go unnoticed by Theo as he chuckled seeing your shy state before turning his attention back to the book. 
Maybe another time he would tease you for getting so nervous around him, but tonight his goal was to make sure you passed the exam tomorrow. 
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alotofpockets · 1 month
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Meeting again | Part 1 - Part 2 | Leah Williamson x Reader
Where you take your son to Leah's book signing and you reconnect with your high school friend/crush.
Happy birthday to our blonde pookie!
Woso masterlist | Words: 2.7k
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You were doing some work around the house when your ex called. “Hey Ryan, what’s up?” You say as you turn off the vacuum. “Hi y/n, I’m so sorry. I know that it’s my day, but I’m going to be stuck at work until late. Is there any way you can pick up Liam from school and take him to that book signing from Leah?” The two of you had gotten a divorce many years ago, when you had finally come to terms with your sexuality. Ryan had always been understanding, and now you were still friends, and co-parented your son Liam together. “Oh yeah, don’t worry, I can do that.” You could hear the relief in his voice. “Thank you so much, I owe you one. He has a half day, so he should be done at school in about an hour. I packed his Arsenal jersey and scarf, he wanted to wear them to the signing. Thank you again, I have to go. Send me pictures of the signing?”  Your kid would always be your number one priority, so you hung up the phone and got ready.
“Hey bud, your dad is stuck at work, so I’m going to take you to Waterstones later, is that okay?” The boy greeted you with a hug. “Yes, of course, you’ll get to see Leah again!” Back in high school you and Leah were very close, there was even some gossip about the two of you dating, but when you got wind of that you shut those rumours down quickly by starting a relationship with Ryan, a relationship that drove a wedge between your friendship with Leah. Your love for the women’s game continued to grow though, and you have supported Arsenal all your life, just like Leah. Liam fell in love with it too, and you often found yourself amongst the crowd of Arsenal WFC and Lionesses matches together. Liam was a smart kid, and after finding you looking at TikTok videos of Leah, he started asking questions. “Watch it, or we’re not going.” You said with a fake seriousness. Liam knew full well that it was an empty threat as you loved messing with him. 
You decided to make it a special day for your son, by taking him out for lunch before heading over to Waterstones. It was to no surprise to you that he wanted to go to his favourite restaurant. “Smile for your dad.” The boy looked up from his plate with a big grin on his face. Proudly wearing his Williamson jersey and his Arsenal scarf. 
The line at Waterstones was long, but you bought the book and joined the line together. You could tell he was excited just by the way his eyes lit up, and his smile was constantly present on his face. His excitement made you glad that you were able to join him on this occasion, but it didn’t trump your nerves of seeing Leah again. Of course, you had seen her play, but you were always just a person in the crowd, and now you were going to be face to face with the girl you’ve had a crush on since you were fifteen. 
Never in your life had you been so nervous to see someone from your past, but you set it aside for your son, this was his moment. Plus Leah would probably not even remember you, right? You were a nobody, and she was the England captain and the Arsenal co-captain. 
When it was your turn, Liam walked up to the signing table, while you stood back to take pictures. “Hi, what’s your name?” You heard the blonde ask your son. “I’m Liam, it’s very nice to meet you. My mom is a big fan of yours as well.” The sneaky little bastard, you thought as your eyes met Leah’s. Her eyes showed instant recognition. ‘Yours?’ she mouthed your way, and you answered with a nod. “It’s very nice to meet you too Liam, want to come over to this side for a picture?” Leah signed the book, and wrote something on one of the cards laying to the side as Liam made his way around the table. “I see you’re repping my jersey! You know what would go great with that?” He shook his head. “This new cap, would you like one?” Liam looked over to you with hopeful eyes, “Can I mom?” You smiled at the interaction between Leah and your son, “Yeah, of course.” He turned back to Leah, “Thank you so much!” The two posed for a picture. “Any time Liam. Here is your signed book, and could you please give this card to your mom?” He grinned big when he saw a written phone number on the back of the card. “Thank you Leah!”
“Mom! I got you her number, you have to call her!” You look at the card that Liam handed you ‘Would love to catch up, send me a text if you’re up for it :)’ along with her cell. You looked between the card and Leah, who shot you a smile before returning to the next person in line. “Please tell me you’re going to send her a text, please!” Liam was tired of always seeing you admire Leah from afar, and now that you had a real shot to reconnect with her, he wanted you to take it. Plus how cool would it be if his mom would go out with the Leah Williamson? You pocket the card, “Maybe later, you little snitch. I thought we had a deal.” You say playfully as you put your arm around his shoulder. Quite frankly it scared you a little to send her a text. “Let’s head home.”
When you got home you put Leah’s number in your phone and stared at the message screen forever, trying to decide what to text her. You really wanted to reconnect with her, but you also didn’t want to overcompensate, and ruin any chance you had. You settled on something simple, letting her make the next move.
You: Hi Leah, it’s y/n. It was good seeing you today, catching up sounds nice.
You hadn’t expected to get a message back from her so soon.
Leah: So glad we ran into each other. Talk about the details later?
The message notification was staring back at you, your heart was beating out of your chest simply from her message. You quickly put your phone away, without opening her message when Liam walks in. “Mom, you know that I want you to be happy right?” You nod, “Of course, I know that kiddo. What makes you say that?” He shrugs, “I just don’t want you to hold back because of me.” You shake your head, “You’re too smart. I love you, kiddo.” He hugs your side, “I love you too, mom.” 
The two of you were hanging out at home, when Ryan called again. “Hey, thank you for sending me those pictures. They really made my day, glad to see him so happy.” You notice the exhaustion behind his words, “Yeah of course, I don’t want you to miss out on stuff because of your job.” Liam was so important to the both of you, but your divorce had led to missing some things here and there, that you always tried to minimise together. “Speaking of work, I should be done around eight. You know I hate to ask, but-” You interrupted him, “You don’t have to ask, of course. Pick him up whenever you are done, okay?” You heard the relief in his voice, “Thank you. Can I talk to him for a moment?” You walk over to Liam and hand him the phone, “It’s your dad.” After handing him your phone, you give him some space to talk to his dad. 
You continued vacuuming since you weren’t done when you had to pick up Liam from school. So, you didn’t hear the interaction with Ryan, or when the call was over, and definitely not when you got another phone call. Liam looked at the contact and smirked to himself. When he realised you didn’t hear the phone call, he picked up himself. “Hi Leah, it’s Liam.” The girl had not expected your son to pick up, but she went with it anyway. “Hey Liam! How did you like the book signing?” He told her how much he enjoyed it before Leah continued with her questions. “I was looking for your mom, is she around?” If it were a video call, Leah would have seen the mischievous look in Liam’s eyes, but since it was a voice call he could hide behind the screen. “She is a little busy right now, but she said she wanted to invite you over for dinner tonight if you had time.” Leah knew she should’ve questioned it more, but she wanted to see you so badly, that she set up dinner plans with your son. 
Just ten minutes before Leah said she would be there Liam came walking up to you. “Hey mom, so I kind of invited Leah over for dinner tonight.” Never in your life had you turned around so quickly, “You did what?” You could not believe what your son had just told you. “She will be here in-” His sentence was interrupted by the doorbell. “Now.” He said with a big smile. You were frozen in place, Leah Williamson was at your door, and you were in sweats and a tank top, your hair a mess from the house work you had been doing for the past hour. “Are you going to let her in?” You turned to Liam, “You are going to be in so much trouble later.” Again, Liam knew there was no actual threat behind your words, because that’s not how you parented.
On your way to the door, you tried to quickly fix your hair. You open the door, “Oh hi Ryan, you’re here early.” He smiles back at you, “Yeah our last meeting got cancelled, sorry I didn’t let you know.” You shake your head, “No, no it’s okay. Liam, your dad is here!” The boy came running into his dad’s arms. “You’re here!” The bond between them was amazing, he truthly loved the both of you equally. “Have you had something to eat yet?” Liam shakes his head, “How does McDonald’s sound?” You grab Liam’s bag, and give him a quick kiss on his cheek, before waving the both of them off. 
As soon as you closed the door, you ran up the stairs to quickly get changed, and look more presentable. You had just finished doing your hair when your doorbell rang again. This time it was Leah standing on the other side of the door. “Hi Leah, come in.” She looked so beautiful in her simple white t-shirt and a pair of green cargo pants. “Hey y/n, thank you. No Liam?” She questioned when you walked her further into the house. “He wanted to be here but his dad came to pick him up a little bit ago. I’m sorry to say that McDonald’s has been picked over dinner with you.” You joke, hoping to make the moment a bit lighter. Hearing Leah’s laugh brought you back to those days where you would sit on the grass, and make fun of the boys on the football team. 
“So, Liam is a big fan of football then?” Leah started awkwardly. You loved talking about him, so you just started talking. “Yeah, I started taking him to matches when he was still a little baby. He loved it ever since, I can’t go to an Arsenal match without him nowadays. A gooner from the start, just like you.” Leah blushed slightly. “So, you’ve been coming to our matches all this time?” Now it was your turn to blush. “Maybe.” The both of you laugh. “Ryan surprisingly never got into football, so it’s been something I get to share with Liam.” The name you mentioned caught Leah’s attention. “Wait Ryan is Liam’s dad? You actually married high school Ryan?” You realised that bringing his name up was probably a mistake since he is what drove the two of you apart. “Oh yeah, high school Ryan indeed. Liam’s dad indeed, and I did marry him. We haven’t been married for like five years though.” 
Leah’s ears perk up at that. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” You shrug your shoulders, “It’s all good, it was time I finally figured out my sexuality. We’re still friends, and he's great with Liam. Anyways, how have you been?” The two of you start talking and catching up, and somehow even though more than a decade had passed and you had lived such different lives, it felt like you had never not known each other. 
You walk into the kitchen together, still talking, when the both of you start getting hungry. That is when you realise that you had to go to the grocery store today, and didn’t have much in the house. “So, confession time. I didn’t actually know you were coming over until Liam told me about ten minutes before you arrived.” Leah laughed, “I had a feeling the invite wasn’t extended by you, but I didn’t want the opportunity to go to waste.” You blush at her words. “I am very happy that you are here, don’t get me wrong. I was just not prepared. It was Ryan’s day with the kid, but he got stuck at work so I didn’t have a chance to go to the grocery store like I had originally planned. Let’s see, I have Potato Smileys, and literally nothing else. I am so sorry.” Leah did not care what you would eat one bit, she was just happy to be there with you. “Good thing I love Potato Smileys then!”
You shared a laugh at the situation and decided to make the best of it. While the Potato smileys were in the oven, you set the table with some condiments to go along with them. As you were waiting for the Smileys to cook, you and Leah fell back into conversation. You were reminiscing over old times, and shared stories from the past years since. It was easy talking to her, it really felt like no time had passed.
Once you were done with dinner, you moved to the living room where you each found a comfortable place on the couch to continue catching. Before you realised it, hours had passed by. Leah looked at her watch, and noticed the time first. “Oh it’s late, I hadn’t realised so much time had passed.” You glance at the clock yourself, “Wow, yeah it is. I’m really glad you came over tonight, catching up with you has been great.” Leah smiled in return, “Yes it was, I’ve missed this. I hope we can hang out again soon!” You walk her to the door, “For sure! Liam and I will be at the match Sunday, maybe we can do something after? If you don’t mind him tagging along of course.” Her smile grew big, “I would love that, and for Liam to tag along always!”
As you said goodbye, and Leah got into her car you couldn’t help but feel hopeful for what the future might hold. Just having Leah back into your life in whatever way possible made you extremely happy. Tonight had been so nice, and you really wanted to see Leah again soon, Sunday didn’t feel soon enough. So, you decided to send her a message. You felt less nervous sending this message than the one this afternoon, but still there were some nerves.
You: Would you maybe want to grab a coffee sometime this week? I’d love to meet up sooner than Sunday.
As you were getting ready to go to bed, your phone dinged with a new message.
Leah: I know a great spot! Are you free tomorrow?
You smiled at the text, Leah proposing tomorrow had to mean she wanted to see you again soon too, right? You quickly let her know you’re free, before sending her a goodnight message and calling it a night. Though, your mind kept you up for a while longer, not wanting to let go of today just yet.
Continue reading part 2!
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tojirights · 1 month
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feat gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, nanami kento & choso kamo
tags: 18+ smut nsfw, minors do not interact.
breeding, teasing, unprotected sex, daddy kink
buy me a coffee?
gojo satoru
teases you about it constantly. he can always tell when you're ovulating by the way you talk about babies, how you squeak every time you see a toddler in a cute little outfit, especially little boys in dino sweaters. you know gojo isn't looking to have kids soon, if ever, but he's always able to pull out the charm just enough to tease you while your baby fever sky rockets.
"oh my godd 'toru." you whine, pulling on his shirt to get his attention. the cutest little baby sits in a swing as you walk past the park, giggling as his mama pushes him. gojo just chuckles, shaking his head. "what's up baby?" he snickers, watching your eyes light up. "y'wanna go home and make one?" his eyebrows wiggle and you sigh with annoyance but you can't help the way your body reacts to his tone.
gojo wraps you in his arms and hums. "one day, princess. you'll be such a good mama." he kisses your forehead as you sink into his chest. "and you're gonna look so sexy pregnant..." he groans to himself at the thought. you roll your eyes as gojo pulls you close. "let's go practice, hm?"
toji fushiguro
loves to see you swoon over his kids, and is greatful you like 'em so much to give him a break. but he makes the mistake of falling for your little puppy-dog eyes and pouty bottom lip every night when you crawl into bed with him. he groans when you slide onto his chest, an innocent yet tempting look in your eyes.
"i wanna be a mama, toji." you say, seductive undertones of your voice making toji's cock throb. "you already are, hon." he answers with a chuckle when you playfully slap his chest. "you know what i mean!" you whisper yell, careful not to be too loud and wake the kids up. "wanna have a baby. gumi is getting soo big and i love him! but..."
toji smirks, his hands trailing down your hips and settling on your ass. "y'wanna have a baby?" he hums, lips finding your neck. "wanna be so full of me? have my kid in that belly of yours?" he bites back a moan when you grind on his quickly stiffening cock. you gasp when he suddenly flips you onto your back and looms overtop of you. "y-yes daddy please." your breathy little moan sets toji over the edge.
"anything for you, pretty girl..."
nanami kento
smart man, knows you're dying to have kids and isn't one to make you wait for almost anything in life. he's been away for a few days on a mission but you've been blowing up his phone about how much you miss him, and sending screenshots of ideas for decorating the nursery when the time comes.
he comes home from the mission with flowers and chocolate, greets you with a kiss at the door, and as soon as his hands are free, he scoops you up into his arms. "i'm ovulating..." you whisper into his ear, kissing down his jawline. nanami huffs a laugh. "you think i didn't know that, my darling?" he palms your asscheeks as he carries you to the bedroom. "you've been basically begging for a creampie since i got ready to leave." he drops you onto the mattress and follows quickly, already working on getting his pants undone.
you bite your lip, adrenaline starting to surge through you as nanami ignores the drawer where you keep the condoms. "you deserve that baby you've been so patiently waiting for, what a wonderful mother you'll be." he sighs as his raw cock pushes into your pleading pussy.
choso kamo
doesn't quite know how to react when you start making hints that you want children. he's caught off guard when you start showing him pictures of little baby shoes with cute pink bows all over them, but he can't deny that his body has a very physical and primal desire to fufill your wants. he's a family man, after all.
he wastes no time helping in tracking your cycle, wanting to take every possible chance in making your dreams a reality. he wants to see you pregnant again and again, bringing his first born as many siblings as you can both muster.
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randomshyperson · 6 months
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Sanctify - Cult Leader!Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Kinktober #06
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Summary: After your worst semester at NYU, your Aunt Agatha convinces you to join the Children of Chaos as an alternative, and very expensive form of therapy. Leaving the cult becomes a very difficult task when you develop an unexpected affection for their leader.
Warnings: (+18), dom!wanda and brat!reader, rough smut, face-fucking, power dynamics, brat taming (ish), praising, lots of tension and teasing, definitely blasphemous on some levels, a lot of plot, mentions of past toxic relationship, unspecified age gap.  | Words: 7.900k
A/N-> I’ve been dying to write something about Cult Leader Wanda since I watched the second season of Yellowjackets and became obsessed with Lottie Matthews, so while writing this, I was picturing Lottie’s cult to be fair. I also like how I ended this, as it makes it possible to turn it into a series. Good reading!
General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad
-&-
Although the movement of the car brought a gentle breeze through the window, the weather was hot enough to actually make thinking painful.  In an attempt to relieve the temperature a little, and perhaps escape Aunt Aggie's provocative reminiscences about the long journey and the events that made this trip necessary in the first place, you put your arm on the door, and propped your chin up, your face on the safety edge outside the window.
New York had been out of sight for hours and had given way to countless trees and a plantation further and further away. You figured it wouldn't take long for the radio signal to stop working, but to your pleasant surprise, the soft melody of cassette tapes hidden in the glove compartment by Nicholas were picked up once that happened.
Your cousin had grown up over the summer - His still youthful appearance now featured neatly cut curly hair and reading glasses that he often hung on the collar of his shirt. When younger, it was common to hear how much he resembled Sir. Scratch, his scumbag father in the words of Agatha and the other adults, not yours - but over time, he looked much more like his mother.
Nick met your gaze through the rearview mirror and gave you an assuring smile. You didn't reciprocate, but not because you were upset. Just because you were distracted by the huge sign coming around the next corner. 
"Oh, boy, I've missed this place." Agatha commented with a nostalgic sigh, as soon as she noticed the entrance plaque. She slowed down enough that the wind wasn't enough anymore, so you returned to your original position with a low snort.
"There's still time to turn around." You muttered, getting a warning look from the older woman.
She leaned over, without answering you, to grab something from the open glove compartment. You pushed your hair back as a pamphlet was dropped into your lap.
"I know you hated the idea, but you need to trust your elders for once in your life, darling." Agatha began, as you grimaced at the crumpled paper. The title Children of Chaos was painted in red, but it was faded in several places. "The 70s were the apex for this place, I had a lot of fun here. It's such a unique experience, connecting with nature and the chaos that is part of us all."
Nick chuckled through his nose. "Mom, don't start your witch thing again, you'll scare her." Mocked your cousin from the passenger seat, but Agatha waved him off.
"She'll thank me when she gets there, I'm sure." 
But you didn't do that. When the car finally came to a stop, and what looked more like a fancy farm merged with the forest took over your vision, all you did was crumple the Immersive Community pamphlet into your pocket and throw your old backpack over your shoulder.
Aunt Aggie and your cousin hugged you tightly, saying they were going to write, but they couldn't get past the reception desk since they weren’t part of the program. You saw Agatha take your mom’s borrowed credit card out of her purse to start your so-called treatment, and the last goodbyes left your tongue before one of the tutors started the tour of the place.
In between presenting a large number of different huts that served as dormitories and classrooms for the most diverse activities - painting, handicrafts or poetry were the ones you memorized - Mr. Emil Blonsky also took the time to welcome you, emphasizing how incredible the community was and how lucky anyone was to be there. You bit your tongue to keep from telling him that only those with money could.
Finally, Blonsky showed you the stables and greenhouses on the edge of the property, and on the way back to the rest of the huts, you noticed the path up the hill.
"And what's up there?" 
The man stopped walking with a small smile. He was wearing clothes very similar to those of the other people you'd seen on the tour, the difference being a golden necklace with a strange symbol that was hidden by the movement of his loosely buttoned shirt.
"We must not go up there without permission." He begins, although he's smiling, there's something in his gaze that says this rule cannot be disrespected. " The Prophetess' Retreat is a sacred place of peace and reflection." 
You look back at the hut at the bottom of the mountain, far enough away that you can't make out the decorations on the balcony, but still beautiful and quiet, high enough to make it look like the prophet had her own little piece of heaven.
"So, no bothering the boss without asking? Got it." You retort, getting a chuckle from the other at the summary. He starts walking again along the path towards the general area, but you can't help the curiosity burning in your chest. "About this prophet, will she be isolated up there or will I get a chance to meet her?"
Blonsky walks up beside you, and looks you in the eye to say; "You'll meet her when it's time to meet her, not early and not late."
You don't know what to say to that, everything here is so theatrical in a way. Mystical, you might say. It suits Aunt Aggie so well, that it's not hard to imagine her here, dancing to the midnight moon and talking to the trees. She already does that in New York, it should have been much simpler in the middle of the forest.
"Come, child. You must start the cleaning process soon." Announces the man as he picks up the pace on the trail. With a sigh, you decide not to contradict him by saying that you bathed before coming, thank you. 
It was soon revealed that the cleansing process really meant a bath - the colleagues around you who helped you laughed when you joked that it was a strange way of saying that someone stinks, before clarifying that it was nothing of the sort. The Cleansing Process was a bath of salts and herbs, in a tub of stones and some kind of botanical baptism, the latter of which only members who had completed thirteen full moons could take part in. You would be invited to the baptism with the prophet's blessing, but there was still a long way to go.
Blonsky handed your uniforms, and explained the last rules before leaving you alone, or almost, since your hut was shared with six other people, and despite this, it seemed very comfortable and organized. There were bunk beds and private bathroom spaces, and at least three spacious shelves for each. The latter wouldn't be of much use to you, since you'd brought almost nothing and the vast majority of your belongings had been left at NYU. Just thinking about that place gave you a terrible stomach ache: You would have skipped dinner, but the mere suggestion of not attending made one of your colleagues frown in concern and repeat the rules, so you ended up giving that up.
The routine that followed was calm: it didn't surprise you that the new members were responsible for the hardest tasks, and it didn't bother you either. You were never afraid of hard work, and keeping your hands busy also helped to calm your mind, so it was a win-win. Besides, even if you didn't get the jobs nobody wanted, all veterans had chores. There was some rule about the amount of service time and dedication being rewarded, so those senior members could choose what they wanted to do first. 
You didn't have to worry about this anyway: you would do what you had to do because, after all, the agreement was to stay here only for the summer. However, with each passing day away from exams, traffic, and New York's typical filth, it became harder to imagine leaving the Children of Chaos and their strange harmony and kindness.
After three weeks in the group, you learned to knit. You also earned the privilege of mail when you showed up for all your appointments without delay and decided to check the items in the privacy of your cabin during the last hour of prayer.
Since you hadn't yet found your faith or received your calling or whatever weird way Blonsky explained this, you barely joined in the prayer sessions. This evening, excited to receive news from home, was no different.
Aunt Aggie wrote about the store doing well and mentioned your mother, who didn't write to you with more than vague words about hoping you'd feel better soon. The best present was hidden in Nicholas' letter about the university being a sack without his favorite cousin. Wrapped in silk and next to a lighter.
You haven't earned the right to write outside yet - something about a month in isolation to accomplish. So you just clutched the items to your chest and wished your cousin knew how grateful you were.
Your initial intention was to save the weed for some more stressful day - which was rare in the leisurely pace of this place - but the last letter made you consider using it all that night.
The recipient's perfect handwriting, and the address you knew by heart. You didn't even open the item, you put it away in your drawer and stood up with the weed hidden in your pants pocket.
The common area was empty, as the vast majority of your colleagues were praying. You stepped up to one of the bonfires and threw the unopened letter into the flames, without hesitation and without caring to see it burn. You turned on your heels and continued along the trail, heading for one of the few more secluded spots you had discovered during the hours of exploring between tasks.
The rules were clear about the prophet's hut but said nothing about the road towards it. And since apparently everyone there was afraid of upsetting the boss, that spot was always empty and the perfect place to smoke in hiding.
You leaned against a tree, curled up and lit the weed, and tried to keep away all the painful memories about last semester that the damn letter had brought up.
You were halfway through a joint when you heard a voice at the end of the trail next to you.
"Good evening, Y/N."
"Jesus fucking Christ." You gasped, jumping with fright and almost dropping the blunt to the ground. You looked sideways abruptly, imagining that you were hallucinating because of the weed, and were almost sure that you were when the words escaped you due to the apparition in front of you. The most beautiful woman you've ever seen in your life. Instead of a uniform, she wore a loose dark wine dress that hugged her curves perfectly; her long red hair cascaded down her shoulders and back and her emerald eyes shone curiously in your direction. The dim light from the fire lamps scattered along the trail and the moon really made the woman look like an angel. 
You coughed awkwardly. "Sorry, you scared me." You clarified, the cigarette hidden behind your back a stupid attempt to mask what you were doing. Sure enough, your pupils were dilated, and it was very easy to see the smoke. So, as soon as you tried to hide it, you gave up, offering the woman an awkward chuckle and gesturing the cigarette gently. "Don't tell on me."
There was a soft pause, which you couldn't tell from the intoxication in your system. The woman watched for a moment as the charming gesture of bringing the cigarette to the smile formed on your lips and blew the smoke into the starry sky with your neck slightly stretched. Your mind seemed to clear, and before the woman could speak, you grimaced. "Wait, didn't you just say my name? How..?"
She smiled, folding her hands in front of her body. "It was premeditated that we met today, of course. I'm Wanda."
You've heard her name before, in conversation circles and in advertisements about her heavenliness hanging around. 
"Shit." It was your natural reaction, which made her laugh softly, and it must have been the weed's fault that the sound echoed in your mind and made your body shudder.
"Don't worry, I won't snitch on you." She assures you with an easy smile playing on her lips, and you swallow dry, completely at a loss.
"Thanks... but I thought you were the boss." You mumble, and Wanda makes a funny expression, like a false realization. 
"Oh, you're right." She murmurs amusedly. "I think I can let this one slide if you'll share it with me." 
"Fuck, of course, here." Your limbs feel strange, almost too heavy to move around her. You awkwardly hand her the cigarette, certain that your face is flushed. Hell, the last time you were this clumsy was last semester, with-
"You swear a lot." Wanda's comment pulls you out of your daze. She takes a long drag before adding: "Especially for a Christian."
You chuckle, shaking your head. "My father's a Christian, not me." You retort, and end up grimacing. "And how do you know-"
"This is a very exclusive program, sweetheart." Wanda cuts you off again, the cigarette between her fingers but her gaze is completely focused on your face. "Having a lot of money or being someone's niece isn't enough to guarantee you a spot, but a good letter of recommendation might. And Agatha wrote me almost everything about you, except the reason for rushing to get you here before the next recruitment period."
The sentence was an invitation for you to speak, but you didn't fall for the bait. On the contrary, you looked away with tense shoulders, and Wanda didn't press. At least, not now. She took another drag before commenting more softly:
"We have general meetings every Wednesday. We encourage members to open up." 
You grimace softly. "Group therapy isn't my thing."
But Wanda smiles lopsidedly, giving you back the joint. " Neither is nice weed." She retorts a little provocatively, attracting your attention. "If you want to try something new, show up next week. And if you want to try something good, you should try the weed from our greenhouse. It won't taste like crushed dirt." Adjusting her hair around her shoulders, she offers you a wink. "Have a good night, darling."
You think about the color of her eyes for the rest of the night.
-&-
Sooner than you'd expect, you'll discover that Wanda isn't the type to let things slide. Far from it, she notices everything, especially those who are being too slack and prone to not following the teachings of the Children of Chaos, possibly ruining their record of total efficiency or something.
She puts an end to your plans for a quiet summer, trying to go unnoticed among the countless other followers just as abruptly as she left her meditation hut. Wanda seems to appear at every moment that you consider escaping from your commitments - it even occurs to you that she has a particular interest in watching you, but the idea sounds so absurd that you push it away while forcing a polite smile before returning to your duties.
Less than two weeks after you met, you finally stopped avoiding Group Therapy and showed up on time to join the session. The presence of Wanda, in a loose dark purple dress and her red hair tied up in a neat braid, makes you almost give up, convinced that you couldn't say anything without stuttering in the presence of such a stunning woman.
But she offers a gentle smile, opening her arms softly. "Come along, darling, you're just in time." She greets and you stumble towards a corner in the background, begging the gods that you can attend in silence this time.
It doesn't seem so difficult when it's other people doing it. A young man with whom you've already shared the task of looking after the stables spoke of the frustrations of returning from enforced service with a missing limb, and how the support he didn't get from the government and family members, he found here. Bucky received a finger-snapping applause - something that was explained to you as a way to avoid triggers on the countless ex-combatants or victims of post-traumatic stress that make up the crowd - before giving his turn to another ex-military woman, Carol Danvers.
More stories were shared until Wanda's gaze fell on your slumped figure and she called your name. All the attention in the room fell on you too, and you chuckled awkwardly.
"Thanks, but I'm not good at public speaking." You retorted, but Wanda, with her hands folded over her stomach, gave you a gentle smile.
"Don't worry about it, dear, this is a no-judgment zone." She says, but you make no mention of getting up, and her gaze becomes more insistent. "It's important that we all make an effort to be present at these exercises. We encourage participation around here. Come along, dear, please." And she smiled so kindly that you could only trust her.
The group offered a small chorus of encouragement, and before you knew it, you were a few steps away from the redhead, who held out her hands for your wrists.
"I want you to take a deep breath and close your eyes." Wanda guided, her melodic voice bringing goose bumps all over your body. "Turn all your attention inward. And tell me, is there anything in there that you'd like to share with the group?"
The memories of last semester hit you full force. But Wanda massages your wrists and it feels as if she can calm down the whole storm inside of you.
You sigh, before opening your eyes. "I... I don't know where to start." Your whisper is met by another chorus of support from the members, who retort that you're safe. Wanda releases your wrists to sit with the others, and you try not to be so self-conscious while you're in the spotlight. "I think I can share with you the reason why I'm here." You declare a moment later, taking another deep breath.
Bucky gives you an encouraging smile, mimicking that of the people around him, and you swallow.
"I don't have a history of fighting and overcoming war or any illnesses, so I'm sorry to disappoint anyone." You mumble, receiving confused looks.
The former sergeant assures you: "No problem competes with another. All our pains have their importance." And it seems to be something that has already been repeated here a few times because everyone shakes their heads in agreement.
You scratch the back of your head awkwardly. "Right... well, I won't beat around the bush. A month ago, when I was first enrolled here, I had just been kicked out of my house. Well, it wasn't exactly my house anymore, because I'd been living on campus for about three years, but I think you get the idea." You say, laughing awkwardly at the anxiety in your chest. You try to clear your throat so that your voice doesn't come out so shaky, but only Wanda's gaze really helps to calm your nerves. "And the reason for this was a relationship that my parents, more specifically my mother, didn't approve of. To be fair, no one really approved, because, well, the person... hm, I don't think there's any other way to put it, was another woman. An older woman, and also my professor. And well, the whole thing would have been a scandal anyway, but I really let myself believe that when the worst was over, we'd be fine. Bad news, we weren't." You laugh sadly. You pause, imagining that you'll get judgmental looks, but everyone listens attentively. "For a while, I thought the worst part was afterward. When everyone knew and judged me, and how my mother freaked out, and I tried... but no. The worst part was not realizing what that love if I can call it that, was doing to me. How ill it was making me. And until I got here, learned things about myself, and managed to take a break from everything that was left behind... For a while, I really hoped to go back and fix everything, but now... damn, sometimes I don't even think about leaving this place."
The group celebrates quietly, exchanging words of encouragement. Your ears feel warm, and Wanda stands up again. "You can stay as long as you need, darling." She says, massaging your forearm. She calls someone else to speak, but doesn't miss the opportunity to whisper in your ear: "I'm proud, stay a little longer today, I want to talk to you." 
And you think you haven't absorbed anything for the rest of the morning.
Eventually, the session ends, and as soon as the room is empty, Wanda turns her face towards you.
"You were brave today, sweetheart." 
Your hands, busy putting the cushions away, tremble a little. But you offer her an incredulous chuckle.
"Yeah, right." It's your answer, which makes Wanda frown in curiosity. At her inquisitive silence, you sigh before clarifying: "Everyone's nice, but I know it's kind of silly that my big trauma is a break-up and not post-traumatic stress from war or something that actually matters."
Wanda presses her lips together, studying you for a moment, and you take the opportunity to put away the last of the cushions. Suddenly, she says:
"This lack of respect for your own feelings comes from parental negligence, I suppose."  You turn your face away in surprise, but Wanda gives you a small smile: "James wasn't lying when he said that no pain should compete with another. We all have our internal and external battles, and we shouldn't belittle our pain. I believe we should honor it, and wear it. And here, dear, you will learn to do that." Wanda makes her way around to one of the cupboards at the back, and you watch her movements in silence, from reaching into one of the last drawers to returning to you with an item in hand. "I have an invitation for you."
She opens the box she's brought, and inside is a necklace very similar to the one the instructors wear. The main difference is the symbol, the crown that Wanda also carries on the pendant around her neck. You frown in confusion.
"What is it?"
She wraps the item between her fingers, her gaze on you. "The disciple's necklace. The last one from the current solstice." 
You imitate the gesture, touching the item with the tips of your fingers. Wanda doesn't move her hand away as your fingers brush together, and you ignore your own shyness as you watch her bite her lip for a moment. "I don't understand what it means."
She licks her lips, and the movement doesn't go unnoticed by your eyes. "It means that you would be my apprentice. You would accompany me during periods of meditation, you would study my teachings closely, you would be... entirely dedicated to..."
"You?" you add, and Wanda lets out a shuddering breath, warm against your cheek. When did she get so close?
"If you wish." She whispers, and you pull away gently, your face hot but the last thread of sanity in your mind.
"I'm sure there are more experienced members dying for this position. It wouldn't be right-"
Wanda shakes her head, interrupting you. "They weren't chosen. You were." She assures you, pressing the box with the necklace against your chest. "And if it wasn't you, the place would be empty until the next solstice. You don't have to accept it, darling. It's not a summons. It's an invitation."
You sigh, holding the box against your chest. "I just... I've never done anything like this. I don't want to mess things up."
There's a bell in the distance, signaling the start of the next activities. Wanda glances outside briefly before stepping close enough to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth that makes your whole body heat up at once.
"Just listen to your instincts." She whispers, before pulling away with a small smile.
You write to Agatha about it the following evening, but you don't have the courage to seal the letter for sending. The whole conversation with Wanda seems too private to be shared in this way. 
Although the woman said it was just an invitation, you could feel some pressure to make a decision, and it seems that the news had been circulating ever since one of the tutors couldn't find the box of the last chaos disciple pendant, and Wanda ended up mentioning that she had extended another invitation.
In a way, you were stalling. Between your activities and meetings, you hadn't made any decisions and you hoped that the end of the summer would force Wanda to choose someone else. But there was also the question of the new, burning feelings that had appeared since you first laid eyes on her, and which seemed to awaken every time you two were in the same environment. 
The idea of departing, of leaving her behind like a closed chapter in your life, seemed absurd every passing day.
In your second month with the Chaos Children, you received a rather unusual request: take the prophet her morning drink.
The crumpled piece of paper was handed to you by one of your cabin mates: Kate Bishop. A former student, a little younger than you, who, after destroying a bell at the university, was sent here by her millionaire mother. Kate was to stay until she had balanced her irresponsible impulses and could take over the family's security empire.
She seemed a little reluctant to interrupt your concentration on cleaning the garden, but much more determined not to disappoint Wanda.
"Just give it to the kitchen staff, they'll know what to do. And prioritize, she doesn't like to wait." Said the girl, but you gave her hand a gentle tug before taking the paper.
"But why did she ask me?" you asked, but Kate had no idea and just shrugged before leaving the garden.
While the kitchen staff prepared the item, you tried to improve your appearance in the bathroom next to the lounge, wiping all the soil from the plants from under your fingers, and even what had run into your cheeks. 
When you came out, there was another order on the counter and a small group of people who hadn't been there before. They didn't see you. Blonsky, accompanied by two other women you didn't know, were talking to each other.
"I bet it was Carter. She hasn't stopped talking about her private piano lessons with the Prophetess for four whole weeks." Said the first, but the other laughed quietly.
" Sharoon is a simp, that's all. Wanda wouldn't choose her after the episode with Rogers last year, she knows she can't trust her." Rebutted the other. "Besides, I would have assumed it was Bishop, after all, she already acts like a maid. Why train another when you already have one so dedicated?" The women laugh amongst themselves until they finally notice you approaching, and fall silent. Blonsky smiles, but he appears very vicious. 
"Hello, miss. Wouldn't you like to have a say in who our next disciple is?" He asks you, but you shrug, moving forward in the queue in front of the canteen to grab the prophet's items that were clearly being prepared in priority. 
"I don't know anything about it." That's your answer, but the shorter woman gets in your way.
"Come on, dear, it's easy." She begins with a giggle. "Every solstice, the prophetess chooses her disciples. There are 24 of them, 12 of whom will become apostles after their apprenticeship."
You grimace softly. "It's very biblical."
Blonsky chuckles. "Of course, it is, despite the multiculturalism of our group, Wanda was raised in a Jewish Christian home. You're not going to tell me you didn't know that?"
You clear your throat. "Not really. Sorry, I have to run."
But the man puts a hand in your way, only to stretch his body out on the counter and reach for some colored leaves that he crushes and drops into Wanda's glass.
"She likes it this way. I would know, I prepared many when I was her houseboy for the first few weeks here." He says, and you swallow dry, mumbling an awkward thank you before hurrying off.
The path is a little tiring, you think it makes sense of Wanda's physique if she had to climb that trail every day, and you mentally curse yourself for thinking about her body. It's not at all appropriate, honestly.
The door is open, but you knock anyway. The woman inside, wearing her typical long, loose dresses at the edge, is busy finishing a loose fringe in her hair and offers you a smile.
"Come in, dear." 
You do so a little awkwardly, almost overwhelmed by the moment of entering the most private place in the whole camp. It's a beautiful cabin, you let her know, without stopping to admire the perfectly arranged surroundings. You would have thought that the privacy of this place would allow her to make some kind of personal mess, but everything is impeccably in place.
Wanda approaches to pick up the items, and the smile falters on her face at the first sip of her drink.
"Did you put... did you put maca root in this?" She asks, and your natural reaction is a short laugh.
"I didn't prepare it, Wanda."
But she doesn't smile again, her tone of voice remains the same but her attitude changes to one of false kindness. "My morning drink is an ashwagandha. I need my concentration to increase, not my libido." It really sounded like a scolding, and her attitude of handing the cup back to you, accompanied by the memory of the recent events, made your blood boil.
"Well, I'm not your fucking maid, so if it's not good, get another one downstairs, or even better, make it one yourself."
It's the first time you see any kind of fury in her gaze, hot and vibrant, and it makes something in you rouse. Your mention of leaving the cabin is prevented by her hands closing the door and trapping you against the wood.
Wanda takes a deep breath, and the gleam in her eyes changes. "Can I ask... where did this attitude come from?"
You hold the glass tightly against your body, very aware that you'll drop it if Wanda doesn't step away and let you breathe. "I just want to make things clear." You retort with a seriousness that doesn't do justice to the way your heart is racing. "I didn't come to this place to be your personal servant."
Wanda chuckles briefly, letting her gaze drop to your mouth. "Oh, of course not, darling." She whispers. "You're not the type to follow orders willingly. You'd do a terrible job."
Swallowing dryly, you retort: "And why am I here then?"
Wanda smiles innocently. "I asked you to bring my drink." It's her reply, clearly trying to tease you, and you snort impatiently.
"I bet you expected an answer. Well, I haven't made up my mind yet, so if there's nothing else, I'll just go."
Wanda moves to take the glass from you and put it on the table by the door. The next second, her hands are in yours.
"Don't be silly, of course, there's another reason." She retorts, pulling you along as she walks backward into the cabin. "I hear you love painting."
What you had assumed was her personal painting canvas is offered to you. The laugh that escapes you is shy and genuine.
"Wanda, I don't... paint anymore."
But she doesn't flinch, her hands still in yours. "I know you haven't since last semester. It was in the letter. But you've progressed so much, that I thought you could paint for me." When you don't answer, she makes such an adorable expression that your heart skips a beat. "Please?"
Wanda definitely knows how beautiful she is, and how those puppy-dog eyes can take her anywhere. You bite back a smile, agreeing, and almost forget to breathe when she jumps excitedly onto your neck, hugging it for a whole moment before letting go as if she hadn't turned you into a complete mess with one touch.
She doesn't complain about the cocktail again - instead, she drinks it entirely while you get comfortable on the painting stool, doodling for a few moments before starting to paint the only thing you could after so many months without touching a paintbrush.
It's only when the drawing is clearer on the frame that Wanda becomes restless again. Loud sighs take your attention away from the painting and towards her.
"Is something wrong?"
She smiles half-heartedly, and only now do you notice the soft color of her cheeks. "I shouldn't have ignored my own complaints and drunk that juice."
You frown in confusion, letting the brush rest next to the paints. "Was it that bad? If you want, I'll complain to the kitchen-"
Wanda chuckles, shaking her head and you have to shut up because she reaches over to push the canvas out of the way and stops right in front of you, close enough to touch.
"Remember what I said? About focus and about... my libido." She asks, and you can swallow dryly, looking up in the direction of her dilated eyes. She lets her hands rest on your shoulders, pressing the weight of her body gently into yours. "Well, I suppose you'll have to see for yourself. Hold out your hand sweetheart, no, no, down... yes, you can move my dress out of the way." Your trembling fingers brushed against her knee, and immediately obeyed the order. Slowly making your way under her dress, while Wanda bit her lip and watched you draw patterns on her thighs. Finally, your fingers reached the side of her underwear. Instead of pulling it down, you let the inks drop to the ground, and your other hand went under her dress too, repeating the same path as before while you and Wanda panted together. Your face fell forward, flush into her dress, and you pressed your nose against her, inhaling deeply the scent of arousal she exhaled so strongly.
Her hands squeezed your shoulders as yours began to pull down her panties right away. A moment later, gracefully as everything so far, she kicked the item aside and spread her legs gently so that you could slide your fingers between more easily.
You looked up the second your index finger met her warmth, gasping at the mischievous smile of the woman in front of you.
"All this time I've been here..." You started hoarsely, your fingers spreading the wetness between her folds, and enjoying the way Wanda's breath caught in her throat. "Were you this wet?" 
Despite the failure of her own breathing, and the way it's harder to stand up with your intimate stimulation, Wanda gives you a mischievous look and leans her forehead against yours, her red hair making a curtain between your faces. 
"I get like this every time I'm around you." She confesses, giving you a provocative tug on your lower lip that forces you to thrust inside her with more determination. Almost enough for her to lose her pose. Almost. "It's disconcerting, to be honest."
Your thumb presses down firmly on her clit, and Wanda almost buckles into you, the delicious sound that escapes her throat will be in your dreams for sure. "Well, should I apologize, high sanctity?"
She chuckles at the teasing hidden in the nickname, before leaning in completely and capturing your mouth in a fervent kiss that takes you out of orbit for a whole moment, intense enough for you to whimper into her tongue, and force her hips down into yours, practically begging her to grind your lap. Wanda's response to this is a dirty giggle mixed with a moan into your mouth.
Without breaking the kiss that turns into a much hungrier one the next second, you get to your feet, adjusting your hands to grab her thighs to pull her onto your lap and carry her around the room. Between stumbles, you press each other against the various surfaces of the room, tables, and cupboards, exchanging increasingly hot and desperate kisses, and you're pretty sure you're going to have Wanda against the bookshelf if she keeps grinding into your abdomen like that.
In a pause for breath, when she's still wedged between you and the bookcase, your mouth descends on her jaw and Wanda struggles to keep her eyes open. She whimpers shamelessly as your curious hands advance down her body, pulling her dress out of the way and leaving it barely hanging off her body for you to clasp your palms over her now-bare breasts.
Her patience for release is quickly exhausted by the precise stimulation of her breasts, your eager fingers teasing and pinching her nipples until you turn her into a whimpering mess. She gives a determined tug on the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your face back to hers in a hard, dirty kiss that makes you shudder. She breaks it only to give an order: 
"On your knees." And you groan in obedience, falling to the floor almost at once, desperately pulling her dress aside to force your face into her, now with nothing in the way. Wanda arches her back once your hot mouth finds her drenched cunt; her hands desperate for some kind of support on the shelves behind her, while her chest heaves and her hips are restless against your face. 
Your hungry mouth leisurely devours her, your tongue teasing her folds, spreading her wetness around and making a mess on your face. Your closed eyes show your dedication and surrender to the task, but Wanda tugs at your hair again, trying to gain a little control back and order you to quit the teasing and fuck her the way she needs you to. Fully dilated Irises then confronts her from between her legs, and Wanda loses her breath. 
"Beautiful." She panted, staring back, shamelessly grinding herself into your face. "So beautiful... fuck... on your knees for me... oh, God, detka." She struggles to compliment you, but her native language begins to escape mixed with English shortly afterward, her climax approaching. You moan contentedly at the scene, aware of the state of your own underwear from all this play. Wanda's body begins to betray her, trying to pull away so you grab her thighs with a strong grip, and one of her legs ends up over your shoulder, increasing your reach just the way she needs it to fall over the edge.
Wanda comes on your tongue, spasming against the books, and in a deep moan. You don't let her pull away, keeping her restless hips in place as you lick your way through her previous climax in search of a new one. Soon her whimpering protests at the overstimulation turn into begging, and you fail to hide the smug smile at feeling her so at your mercy for a second time.
She's so close, so close, that the Sokovian comes back to her tongue, but there's a sudden knock on the door, and all the stimulation is interrupted by your fright. Wanda gasps incredulously, losing the time to react in time due to her own lust, and having to watch you stumble away - quickly wiping her cum from your chin with the back of your hand - as she tries not to fall down on her shaking knees.
"Why the fuck did you stop?" she asks in frustration through her teeth, but you, with a very flushed face, look at her with a certain desperation.
"Wanda, there's someone at the door!" You retort as if it were a very justifiable reason to steal an orgasm from her. Wanda huffs angrily, lunging at you and ignoring your confused eyes to pull you upright by the collar of your shirt, hurriedly throwing you onto the mattress. "W-wanda, what?"
"Quiet." She cuts in, pushing your shoulders until you're lying down and following the movement of your body to straddle your lap. The person outside knocks again, and although she's pulling her off, and is still shaking from her last orgasm, Wanda manages to speak in the same tone of voice as she does every morning meeting: "What is it?"
Your protests are muffled when Wanda sits on your face, and in fact, you would have forgotten any guests if Blonsky's voice hadn't sounded in the next second.
"Good morning, Reverend, I've come to join you for today's service." Says the man, but Wanda has to bite her lip hard because you're eating her out again, somehow even better than before. "Reverend?"
Wanda shakes her head, frowning at the difficulty of maintaining a rational thought when she has your tongue inside her. "Hm, I'm not going today, Blonsky... Deliver the service in my place." She fails to sound so breathless and has to close her eyes when your hands grip her thighs tightly, holding her down. 
Blonsky then sounds concerned: "Aren't you feeling well, Reverence?"
Your nose nuzzles into her clit and Wanda reaches for the headboard, a satisfied sigh escaping her. "I feel great." She murmurs back and has to take a deep breath so that the next sound that escapes her isn't a moan. "Just busy. Anything else, Blonsky?"
The man clears his throat, Wanda has to press a hand against her own mouth as you reach another right spot. 
"Hm, yes, Reverend... As you know, the deadline for the selection of the disciple is coming to an end." He begins, luckily unable to hear the muffled sighs inside the room through the closed door. "I have expressed my concerns to Your Reverence about a premature choice of new members-"
Wanda snorts impatiently. "Are you really going to question my choices again, Blonsky?"
"N-no, reverend!" He defends himself quickly. "Never. I just worry that the... affinity, that Your Reverence has acquired for some new members, might affect your judgment about their vocations. The premature choice of a disciple could result in their departure from our community, and we know how the withdrawal of one of our own affects everyone..."
"Don't worry about it." Wanda cuts dry, and now, she's remarkably close to climaxing. She doesn't care about the roughness, she thrusts her hips frantically into your face, muffling your breathless moans. "Y/N is the best choice... she's... so-god... dedicated and-hm... talented-" Wanda's lucky you're quick to react too. She would have screamed to the ceiling, exposing all the inappropriate activities in the room if you hadn't grabbed her thighs and spun her on her back onto the mattress. She didn't have time to lose this orgasm by the brief interruption of your movements - your fingers took the place of your tongue when you hovered above her, and your free hand covered her mouth when you sank inside her again.
Wanda came harder than before, squeezing your fingers and wetting the bed. She clings to your body in a desperate grasp, shocked by the achievement over her body, and grateful for the muffling of her moans. You keep thrusting until she stops squirting on the sheets.
You only remember that Blonsky is still outside because he speaks again. "I'll take your word for it, Your Reverence. And I hope you've made a good choice." He says at last, the sound of his footsteps moving away is ignored by you and Wanda, who meet in a hot kiss in the next second.
Your fingers continue to thrust lightly inside her, even though Wanda shudders from the excessive stimulation. And despite this, she also controls the kiss, which slows down so that she can ask in between: "Tell me, love. Did I do it? A good choice."
You kiss her a little harder. "I still don't know... what I want... or what I should do, Wanda."
She brings one of her hands up to your wrist, stopping your movements. You open your eyes to look at her. Wanda smiles, but her eyes are very mischievous. "You think too hard when the answer is right here." She retorts, giving your hand a gentle tug. You follow her lead, and soon, you have your drenched fingers with her cum inside your mouth. Your hips move instinctively, pressing down on her, and Wanda giggles mischievously, her free hand trailing down your back to encourage the movement. "Don't you want that, baby? You can be all mine."
You suck your fingerprints clean, removing them from your mouth to support yourself on the mattress now that you're so wildly grinding your hips against Wanda's thigh. She doesn't let you indulge in the sensation, grabbing your cheek and stopping your hips with the other at your silence.
Your soft protest is ignored, and your voice is almost a pathetic plea when it comes out. "It's not fair... I was feeling so good."
"Oh, darling, I can make you feel even better, every day if you decide to stay with me." She retorts, her grip softening on your cheek. You look at her, but there is still hesitation in your gaze and Wanda wishes to replace this doubt with something else. She kisses you but pulls away when you go to increase the intensity, ignoring your protest and pushing you gently away by the shoulders. "No playing, until I have an answer."
Wanda flees - because she doesn't think she'll live up to her words if she is under you - and slips out of bed before you can grab her back. Your next long protest is muffled against the mattress because you press your face down.
Wanda giggles half-heartedly as she stands up, reaches for her dress, and tries to adjust her appearance a little. "Thank you for the sex, sweetheart, it was a very pleasant surprise, but I can't let Blonsky lead a communion, he's not good at it. And you have errands, so if you'll excuse me..." Your silence made Wanda, now dressed, look at the bed again. To her surprise, you were sitting on the mattress, hanging something around your neck. 
Your gaze met hers as the disciple chain was secure on your skin. The mischief in your gaze made her swallow. Twirling the symbol between your fingers, you smiled as you asked: "So how does this work? Should I confess my sins so that you can forgive me?"
"God offers forgiveness, not me." Wanda whispers back, brazenly watching you start to unbutton your shirt, the necklace hanging in the valley of your breasts is doing things to her. 
"Hm, since I'm going to be forgiven, maybe I can sin a little more..." Wanda moved on instinct, crawling onto the bed to meet you halfway like a magnet being drawn towards you.
Your foreheads touched, and she sighed against your lips. "I should punish you for this blasphemy." She says, to which you smile naughtily before sticking out your tongue to tease her lips, eliciting a low moan from her.
"Promise?" You challenge, and Wanda gets tired of wasting time.
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tojisun · 6 months
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Biker Simon with the clubs kids 😮‍💨
https://www.instagram.com/reel/CydQgv0IaHO/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==
HELP?? THAT IS SO COOL WHAT
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simon snaps his visor up and laughs when he hears your nephew’s resounding merry scream, the boy still bouncing around excitably at simon’s little trick. he then stops waving his hands around to run back to simon and hug his legs.
“that was sooo cool,” he cheers, his voice muffled by his helmet.
simon fondly shakes his head before reaching down to unlatch the helmet from the boy’s little head.
“promise not to tell y’r aunt or y’r parents that i did that?” simon asks, holding up his pinky.
your nephew hooks his pinky with simon’s then mimes himself zipping his mouth shut, before theatrically whispering, “i promise!”
simon chuckles and ruffles the boy’s short hair before straightening back up to remove his own helmet only to jolt in surprise at seeing you standing by the garage door, your jaw hanging open. it’s all the confirmation simon needs to know that you’ve caught them.
“uh-oh,” your nephew gasps out, having caught on.
uh-oh indeed.
“sweetheart,” simon starts. “i, uh, won’t do it again-”
“how’d you do that?! that was so cool!” you shout, too buzzed to notice that you’ve cut him off, before elatedly bouncing – truly like aunt, like nephew – towards him, your eyes still wide with glee.
you stand beside your nephew and simon chokes on his laughter when he notices the way you two are staring up at him in twin awe, your guys’ cheeks round from the forces of your smiles.
if only he can take a picture of the two of you right now.
-
simon later receives a message from your brother-in-law.
> Apparently, I’m no longer his favourite adult.
attached is a video taken from the garage’s security cameras – simon doing his little trick, your nephew bouncing around happily, and then you ambling towards the two of them in your mismatched slippers.
simon saves the video and bites a grin as he sends in his reply.
You never were. <
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(biker!simon root post)
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