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randomshyperson · 6 months

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Sanctify - Cult Leader!Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Kinktober #06

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.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #kinktober 2023 #marvel imagines

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sheeple · 2 months

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Heirs of Hogwarts | part 2

Genre(s): Nuisance to Lovers / Fake dating / Fluff / No Voldy au Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Mattheo Riddle x Hufflepuff!Reader Summary: After finding out your (now ex)boyfriend cheated on you with the girl he told you not to worry about, you decide to get into a fake relationship with the kid of another founder of Hogwarts. What could go wrong? Warning(s): Mattheo being Mattheo / Matt beats up a bitch A/n: I COULDN'T WAIT TO FINISH WRITING CHAPTER 3 SO HERE IT ISSSSS. ALSOO... Kinda overwhelmed with all the positive feedback I've got on the first part. I hope this one is what you imagined it to be c: (not me having imposter syndrome) [Masterlist] [part 1] [part 3]

Mattheo wasn't raised with an abundance of love. He was never abused, no, but there wasn't much familiar love between him and his parents and his older brother. Something about ancient wizarding standards or whatever.

That's why when he entered his first year at Hogwarts, something ugly festered within the boy when he saw you. You, another descendant of a founding member of Hogwarts, born into a family so full of love that it made you shine brighter than the sun herself.

Mattheo was jealous of the way your brothers welcomed you into Hufflepuff house, a proud smile on their faces. The way they hugged you and Professor Sproud beamed with pride to have another descendant of Helga Hufflepuff under her care. All Mattheo got was a stiff nod from Thomas and a sneer to not bother him.

It was not until the first class the Slytherins had with the Hufflepuffs that he decided that from that day onwards he despises you. The way the yellow of your cloak makes your skin radiate. The way you tie your hair with ribbons. The way that over the years, you've grown more beautiful than Aphrodite herself.

He also hates that now in sixth year, he has to be your partner for Herbology. You, who despite your heritage, hate Herbology. It makes Mattheo hate you even more because now you are not the perfect Hufflepuff princess everybody imagines you to be. Now you are human.

"If you keep staring at her like that, she might combust in flames", muses Thomas while he doesn't look up from his book. It gets the attention of other boys around them and they all look at the person Mattheo's staring at.

"Really?", scoffs Draco, his eyes flickering over your back, "Princess Perfect over there?"

Something boils from within Mattheo as his friends' eyes trail over your body. He clenches his jaw as he abuses the shepherd's pie on his plate.

The staring doesn't go unnoticed as one of your friends points it out and you turn towards the Slytherin table. Your eyes meet those of Mattheo and you give him a small but awkward smile before turning back, your shoulders slumping under the eyes.

It's not often that Mattheo hates himself. But right now he could kick himself to put the attention on you. "Why would I care about some prissy Hufflepuff?", he grumbles.

Blaise gives him an unimpressed look. "Don't act like you haven't had the biggest crush on the girl since first year. It's getting pathetic, Mattheo. Just go ask her out."

The others around share looks and grins. It pisses Mattheo off. Especially now that his brother's attention is fully on him. Can't they mind their own damn business?

"You're forgetting one thing, idiots."

That is another thing he hates about you. The boy next to you whose sleazy arm is resting on your shoulders. Piece of shit quidditch player and an even worse human being with wandering eyes. Even now, with you sitting so prettily next to him, he dares to make goo-goo eyes with a Gryffindor girl.

Gods it makes Mattheo crazy how you can choose him over any other dickhead at this school. That sleazeball over him.

But when he found you that night alone and moping over your now ex-boyfriend, a small spark of hope lit up inside him. And he took that spark to satisfy his own desires.

And now here you are, sitting in front of each other at the Three Broom Sticks, butterbeer in hand. You nervously trace the rim of the glass while Mattheo observes you. He wants to say something, but you beat him to it.

"So... what are the boundaries of this agreement?"

Mattheo lets out a huff of air. "Whatever you're comfortable with, princess."

Great. That gives you absolutely nothing. "Are you okay with... handholding? Or something similar?"

"Sure. I don't mind. What are your thoughts on nicknames?"

"As long as it's not Pookie. What should I call you? Nicknames are mutual." You send him a teasing eyebrow raise.

Mattheo rolls his eyes playful. "I couldn't care less. Also, to make it believable we should be seen together in school, you know. Otherwise, people won't believe it's real."

To be honest you have no qualms with that. You kinda expected it.

As the negotiations come to a close, the two of you decide to walk around Hogsmeade and get to know each other a little better as you will be seeing a lot of him.

Mattheo practically tackles you as you want to pay, stating that if it was a real date, he wouldn't let his lady pay for anything.

The stroll through Hogsmeade is filled with small talk, asking each other questions about preferences and other small tidbits as you pass by shops. That's how you discover that he's pretty good at Transfiguration and that Madam Pomfrey always gives him candies when he lands in the infirmary again after a Quidditch game.

While Mattheo tells a story about him, Draco and Theodore wrestling for the last apple lollypop Madam Pomfrey had, you round a corner and spot Malcolm walking your way. His hand is in Gladys' but he doesn't pay any attention to her yapping.

"Shit", you curse, ducking behind the wall. Mattheo looks at you with an amused look on his face as you pull him away from the main street by his wrist. "It's him."

The dark-haired boy glances around the corner, his eyes focusing on the sad sack of screechsnaps. The audacity of the guy makes his blood boil. Mattheo turns back towards you. "Do you trust me?"

You hesitate for a moment, your eyes flickering over his face. "My mom always said you shouldn't trust pretty brown eyes", you muse, not knowing how to take his question.

"So you think my eyes are pretty?", he asks, leaning close to you.

His sudden closeness makes you stutter and stumble over your words, the heat rising towards your cheeks. "I- no... what-?"

Mattheo lets out a lach. A genuine one at your confusion. He holds out his hand, palm up, and looks at you expectantly. You lay your hand in his own slowly. At that moment, the two of you realise how big his hand is compared to yours. How — when he laces your fingers together — his hand engulfs your own.

Mattheo pulls you closer, slinging his arm over your shoulder while still holding onto your hand. He pulls the two of you out of the alley and whispers to you that you should laugh like he said something funny.

You can do that. You faked all the time while being with Malcolm, how hard is a laugh? A laugh bubbles from you and you look up at Mattheo.

While you walk, Mattheo angles the two of you so that when you pass your ex, their shoulders bump against each other. The four of you stop and you make eye contact with him.

"(Y/n)", he says surprised, his eyes going from you to Mattheo — who still has his arm wrapped around you.

"Malcolm", you reply icy, clutching on tightly to Mattheo's hand before glancing towards the girl next to him. "Gladys. How... nice to see you."

Gladys gives you a sickly sweet smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "We didn't expect to meet you here. Especially not with... someone." She looks at Mattheo, who pulls you closer towards him.

"Yeah, we quite hit it off during Herbology so we thought why not try it, you know, now she's finally single. Thanks for that, mate." Mattheo cocks his head to the side, silently daring Malcolm.

But Malcolm's wide eyes are laser-focused on you. "Herbology?", he asks, his voice wavering.

"Oh yeah", you nod with a smile, "that Fluxweed report really brought us together, you know. You were right, Malcolm, I just needed to find something I would enjoy about the subject." You bite your tongue to not burst out laughing as you throw his earlier statement back into this face.

Malcolm's face sours and he tugs Gladys' hand before walking away without saying anything. When they're out of earshot, the two of you can't help but laugh.

"Merlin", you chuckle, "he really is pathetic, isn't he?"

Mattheo pulls you towards the opposite direction, his arm still around your shoulders. And weirdly... you don't mind it. He's nice and warm- ew that makes you sound weird. But as the day progresses and the shadows elongate, a shiver rolls down your spine.

Mattheo stops in his steps as the two of you walk back towards the castle. He shrugs off his jacket and holds it open for you to put your hands through the sleeves.

You protest. "I can't take your jacket, don't be silly." Walking past him, he stops you with a hand around your wrist.

"You're not taking it, I'm offering. So don't protest and take the damn jacket." He raises his brows in a silent way to tell you to not challenge him because he will strangle his jacket onto you if he has to.

With your cheeks feeling hot, you reluctantly slide your arms through the sleeves. As you play with the hem of the dark green jacket — which by the way smells like pine and smoke — you turn towards him. "Aren't you cold?", you question as he's only in a black shirt now.

Mattheo shakes his head, running a hand through his curls. "I run hot. Kinda brought the jacket in the hopes to give it to you."

You give him a teasing smile at his confession. "Do you now?"

"I wasn't raised with a lot of good, but at least my aunt instilled some decency into me." He reaches out and grabs his pack of smokes out of a pocket. He lights one and offers it to you. You shake your head and he shrugs.

The rest of the walk back towards the castle is spent in comfortable silence. You totally expect him to wave you goodbye when you enter through the thick wooden doors of the entrance hall, but he keeps on walking with you until you reach your common room.

He has his hands in his pockets as he watches you anxiously scratch at your fingers.

"I've had a lot of fun. Even if it was supposed to be fake. Thank you, Mattheo-"

"Matt."

You blink in confusion at his sudden word vomit. Mattheo himself seems embarrassed. "The whole nickname thing we talked about? You may call me Matt. If you like..."

A wide smile grows on your face. Standing up to your tippy toes, you lay a hand on his shoulder and press a feather-light kiss against his cheek. "Thank you, Matt. Have a nice evening."

Feeling like the butterflies in your stomach may burst out of their confinement, you quickly hurry through the barrel but remember that you're still wearing his jacket. When you turn around, you are met with an empty corridor.

Not knowing that the moment you turned around Mattheo Riddle — Heir of Slytherin and all around Hogwartsbad boy — practically sprinted towards the dungeons with his cheeks flaming hot.

It has been a couple of days since your 'date'. Because you've practically announced to the entirety of Hogwarts that the two of you are dating, you spend a lot more time together. At first, it was spent studying together. But slowly you two started to talk to each other more and more. About life and family and expectations.

Turns out the two of you aren't that different.

Hannah and Susan give you smug smiles every time Mattheo walks over towards you or when the two of you are seen together.

A paper crane lands on top of your open book and you look up from your notes. Mattheo — who's seated on the other side of the classroom — nods towards it and motions for you to unfold it.

You pout and shake your head, mouthing 'too adorable' towards him. He rolls his eyes playfully with a smile and flicks his wand, making the crane unfold on itself. Sending a disapproving look, you read the note.

You look over towards him and he does his best puppy eyes. Curse Mattheo Riddle and his beautiful brown eyes. Pursing your lips, you pretend to think about it, being quite dramatic about it. You look up at the ceiling with your brows knitted together while tapping your chin with your finger. But eventually, you drop the act and give him an enthusiastic nod.

Hannah, who has been following the interaction like a tennis match, snorts and almost draws the attention of the teacher towards you both. You hit her shoulder and quickly turn back towards your notes, ignoring the teasing grin on Mattheo's face.

"Shut up", you whisper towards her.

She leans closer to you. "Since when are you and Riddle close enough to hang out?"

Narrowing your eyes at her. "We're supposedly dating, remember?"

You almost don't want to admit it, but the classes can't pass by any quicker. You hardly pay attention in divination and muggle studies, way too excited for your date- wait... is it a date? No. It's just a hangout. Nothing more.

"Have fun with your date", teases Hannah once the final class of the morning is finished and you flip her off as you walk the opposite way.

As you round the corner, you bump against something and stumble slightly back. "Oh sorry", you mumble, finding your footing before looking up. "Oh...", escapes your mouth as you see it's Malcolm.

You move to pass by him but he grabs your shoulders. "I want to talk to you. I miss you..."

Pushing his hands away, you let out a scoff. He's sinking to a lower level than you thought possible. "Miss me? Miss me? What am I? Your mother?" You go to walk again but this time Malcolm's hold becomes stronger. He manoeuvres you towards an empty hallway. He presses you against the wall and you let out an 'oomph'.

"Is he forcing you to act like this? Did he put a curse on you? Are you imperio'd?" He reaches out to touch your cheeks, to check your eyes.

You harshly pull your face out of his hold. "Are you out of your mind?! Let me go!", you protest, trying to wiggle yourself out of his hold. "Mattheo did nothing to me."

He shakes his head, his fists tightening around your robes. "You're such a- a- slut! Opening your legs for any guy who gives you attention."

What the actual fuck! How dare he suggest such a thing?! You reel your head back and spit in his face. It hits him in his eyes and he flinches, stumbling a couple of steps back and wiping at his eyes.

"You bitch!", he wails. Raising his fist, he advances towards you and your hand reaches for your wand. But something comes flying from the side and knocks him off his feet.

Mattheo stands above him, pinning him to the floor and punching him in the face. You're glued to the spot and you can't help but watch how Mattheo beats the living daylights out of him.

Blood runs down his nose and his knuckles are cracked, but Mattheo enjoys beating your ex down to a whimpering mess. He can finally channel his pent-up frustration into something productive. And he won't deny that he didn't want to knock the teeth out of the prick's mouth.

Afraid that someone will spot the fight, you try to pry off Mattheo. You pull against his shoulder and make him lose the rhythm he was beating his fists down with. "Matt! Leave him! He's not worth getting in trouble for!"

Mattheo suddenly realises that you're here also and he gets off the snivelling boy on the ground, flexing and relaxing his hands. You grab one of them and pull him away from the crime scene. He needs to get fixed up, but where? One of the bathrooms is the possibility to be seen big. And you don't want unnecessary people asking questions. And you don't have any supplies in the bathroom.

You could manage to sneak him into your dorm. Most of your housemates are at lunch, so the common room should be empty.

Mattheo calls out your name, trying to make you stop but you shush him and keep on pulling him towards the barreled entrance. Once outside, you let go of his hand. "I'll check if the coast is clear and then I can fix you up."

Without waiting for an answer, you knock on the right barrel and the doors slide open. Glancing around the common room, you see nobody. Which is a surprising sight. Because the common room is so close to the kitchens, a lot of students opt to eat in their dorms. It's mostly the bullied students or the ones who don't want to deal with the Great Hall.

Waving him over, you pull Mattheo through the entrance and practically shove him up the stairs and into your dorm. He finally gets why you're bringing him to your dorm when you push him to sit on the closed lid of the toilet and fetch out a first-aid kit from under the sink.

"Do you bring a lot of boys towards your dorm?", asks Mattheo to break the silence as you search through the kit. He feels awkward sitting in your bathroom.

This isn't the first time that he is in another House's common room. He has sneaked into Gryfindor's loats and the parties at Ravenclaw are something you have to experience. But there was always something untouchable about the Hufflepuff area. It is a bragging right to have found out about the code to the entrance but an even bigger deal to be invited in.

And what he has seen so far makes him jealous. The Slytherin common room is always coated in a shade of greenish blue, thanks to the large windows looking into the lake. There is barely any warmth because of the ancient tiles of the dungeons. But here, everything is so warm, so welcome. Even with the only windows at the top, the common room is bright and comforting.

"Oh yeah, loads", you tease, "Especially non 'Puff ones." You give him a half-smile while pinching a cotton swap between your fingers. "Now… be still and this might sting." You dab against the cuts and wounds across his face, cleaning up the blood and disinfecting everything.

Mattheo isn't sure what to do with his hand. He's not sure if he can touch you, or pull you closer towards him while he wants to. He doesn't want to scare you away.

"Tell me a secret", you say softly, surprising yourself and him. When Mattheo gives you a raised eyebrow, you roll your eyes. "We're supposed to be dating, aren't we? Especially after you beat the shit out of my ex it's pretty solid for the students around us. And people who are dating know each other's secrets. So... tell me a secret."

There is an unreadable look on his face and you stop your ministrations, eyes locking with each other. "Did you know some of that piece of shit's secrets?", he muses with a small teasing smile on his face.

You huff. "Some..." Continuing, your movements are a little harsher than before. Because now that you think about it, you knew the bare minimum about Malcolm. It's also not like he let you get to know him. He didn't even come with you to Christmas at your home. And your family does a bomb-ass Christmas party each year. "I'll tell one if you tell one."

Mattheo seems to think for a moment, his focus on a spot over your shoulder as he filters through all his secrets and memories. "My family are Parselmouths."

Your mouth falls open and your hand stops in the air. "Like... like speaking to snakes? As in you hiss against snakes and they hiss back?" You eye him with amazement while his cheeks colour a bright red.

"I- it's not like that!" He tries to laugh away your question. "Parseltongue is more... yeah it's kinda like hissing", he admits, hanging his head a bit.

You wipe away the last of the blood and start to clean up. "Do snakes have accents? Or is it more of a universal language? And can everybody in your family do it?"

It's refreshing to Mattheo to find someone who isn't freaked out by his ability. He also finds your questions amusing. They are different. Fun. "I never noticed the accent thing. But I've only met one snake in real life, so I wouldn't know..."

"Can you say something?" You try your best to give him puppy eyes to convince him. But you've heard that you never were the best at it.

A laugh bubbles from within his chest. He looks at you through his lashes and clears his throat. His Adam's apple bops up and down as he swallows and his lips part. Out comes the strangest sound you ever heard. It's indeed a hissing sound, but at the same time his words — if you can call the noise he makes words — have a strange melody to them. It makes the hairs on your arms stand up straight.

"Wow", you whisper once he's done, "And what does it mean?"

"Well", laughs Mattheo, "That's a know for me and for you to figure out."

You chuckle, grabbing your wand to close the wounds, but he stops it. "Leave them be", he says, "It's proof of me beating his pathetic ass." He traces circles with his thumb atop your hand. "Now… what's your secret?"

You toss your head back with a silent laugh. "Fair. Fair. My family — for as long as we have known — are born Animagi. Every single child has been able to transform into a badger."

He raises his brows. "A badger? How fitting", he teases.

Rolling your eyes at his quip, you lean back against the sink with your hand still in his. You don't mind it, you even slightly enjoy it. The way the rough pad of his finger feels against your skin. "The whole Hufflepuff area kinda looks like a burrow. I get where Meemaw got the idea."

Mattheo lets out a sudden laugh. "Meemaw?" There is no ill content behind his laugh. It brings a smile of your own to your face.

"Helga Hufflepuff. She has a painting above the fireplace that's connected with one at home. Also above the fireplace", you laugh. But it slowly melts off your face as your words dawn upon you.

Mattheo slowly starts to become concerned at the look on your face. Your heart races in your chest. How could you be so stupid? How could you have forgotten about Meemaw?

"The painting is connected with home! Oh fuck! She will snitch on me! And now Mom and Dad will think we're...-!"

"Think we're what? Sleeping together? Is that such a horrible idea?" Mattheo straightens his back and his eyes darken.

You shake your head, running a hand over your face. "That's not what I meant. I wouldn't mind it, but I don't want my parents to know that! Ew", you frown and a shudder runs through your body.

The boy before you stands up and closes the space between the two of you. "You wouldn't mind?", he muses with a teasing grin on his face. He turns your head with his knuckles so you're looking at him and traces your bottom lip slowly.

Your lips part as you look up at him through your lashes. Your breath quickens and you feel his chest pressed against you with each rise of your chest. His scent fills your senses and consumes you. It's overwhelming. It makes your stomach do flips.

You wonder if he feels the same.

Just as you slowly angle your face towards him and close your eyes, a knock on the door makes you jump. Mattheo stumbles back, almost crashing against the toilet and landing in the bathtub.

"One- one moment!", you call out, quickly cleaning up the first-aid kit. Mattheo scrambles to straighten himself up before helping you.

The two of you share a look before you open the door. Mattheo slips out and rushes out of your dorm and out of the common room.

"No way?!", gasps Susan, her mouth agape.

"Was that-?", asks Hannah with wide eyes.

Sending the two girls a look. "Not one word!"

The next morning at breakfast your panic turns out not misplaced as your family's house owl comes flying towards you with a sealed letter for you.

Taglist (bold means I couldn't tag you): @mylosz0 @kermits-bitch @jolly4holly @daisiesformylove @frogtape @dancing-inasnowglobe @slytheos @undercover-smutlover @reverse-soe @nikkissecretlibrary @moon-struck-meraki @bengbengbengi @justhavingsomefun1 @itsamusical4lifee @genshingeeksworld @y0urm0m12

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slut4msby · 4 months

Text

flower shop girl. miya osamu x fem!reader

+ tags & warnings; not proofread

+ a/n; i wrote this at 2am last night as the idea came to me as i tried to sleep so keep that in mind </3

“Just go give him some flowers Y/N it doesn’t have to be in a romantic way, just a nice neighbourly worker gesture!” Your coworker, Emi suggested.

“I’m pretty sure Osamu-san would take it the wrong way, Emi…”

“But Osamu-san brings us onigiri all the time! So it’s not weird unless you make it weird, Y/N.”

You couldn’t deny your feelings towards Osamu have grown since you started working at the florist. It started with you going to get some lunch and wanting to try “Onigiri Miya” which was located across the road from your work. All your coworkers could only ever speak positively about Osamu’s onigiri. And after trying it you could not blame him. The onigiri was a masterpiece, it was a perfect triangular delight that fit perfectly in the palm of your hand. The outer layer was crafted from expertly seasoned sticky rice. The rice was perfect, not too dry nor too mushy. When the nori seaweed wrapping peeled back a symphony of flavours unfold. It felt as if Osamu had crafted a masterpiece with something as simple as Onigiri.

However, it wasn’t just the onigiri that stirred something within you; it was Osamu Miya himself. Osamu was fine. More than fine to be honest, he himself was like a Greek god. His physique from his volleyball days had slightly decreased since quitting and pursuing the store, but he was still in beautiful shape. The black Onigiri Miya shirt hugged his body just right. His hair was always slightly messy when he came over to the florists from the Onigiri Miya hat. Not only was he hot, he was funny. Everytime you would see him he would crack some jokes that never failed to put a smile on your face. Not only that despite his more dead-pan face, Osamu was great with his customers. He knew them like the back of his hands, he cared, was passionate and he was funny. God, the true triple threat.

“Plus if Osamu finds it cute, maybe your little crush will go further~.” Emi teased.

You gave her a nasty side-eye in return to her snarky comment. “Okay fine, I’ll bring some flowers to Osamu-san after my shift, if that will make you shut it.” Emi’s face lit up at the comment, “BUT. There is a catch. I get to tell Osamu-san it is a gift from the store for all the onigiri he gives us. Deal?”

“Fine, deal.”

“So… Emi… What flowers do I give Osamu-san?” You say awkwardly.

“Well I would recommend tulips - pink tulips in particular if you don’t want it to be romantic. They convey good wishes, yet non-romantic love and affection. Or maybe some daffodils! To celebrate new beginnings and goo-” Emi rambled.

“Y’know what Emi? I think I’ll just make a bouquet myself…” you mumble as you walk off.

You loved Emi but god she could get on your nerves.

You begin taking your time putting together a bouquet for Osamu. Nothing romantic, but also beautiful enough to put the wrong idea in Osamu’s head. It wasn’t supposed to be romantic, just a nice gesture. Despite your admiration for Osamu, you barely knew the guy. He could have a girlfriend or even worse a wife. And you were no home-wrecker. You had finally decided on a bouquet with pinks and whites, with pink carnations, white roses and baby's breath flowers. It was simple, effective and didn't give Osamu the wrong idea, perfect.

“Emi-chan I’m clocking out now~” You call out to your coworker.

“Don’t forget your bouquet, Y/N-san! I’m sure Osamu is going to fall head over heels for you and you two will have like the cutest romance story ever! And I Can say I planned it ALL and I better be a bridesmaid and-”

“Yup, okay Emi.” You say giving her a weak smile and a wave as you walk out.

You crossed the road and walked into Onigiri Miya, the bell jingling as the door opened. Osamu raised his head to greet the customer who entered.

“Welcome! Ho- Oh, it’s one of the flower shop girls. What can I do for ya?” He smiled.

“Oh Osamu-san! I have a gift for you from m- us over at the flower shop because your always so nice to us and bring us onigiri and stuff and we just wanted to say thank you and-”

He cuts you off from your awkward mess of a speech, “Thanks flower shop girl.” He said walking over to you, grabbing the flowers from your hand. “And don’t ya worry yer pretty little head about it, sweetheart.” He examined the bouquet in front of him, looking at the array of flowers. “It’s beautiful…?”

“L/N Y/N.”

“It’s beautiful, L/N-san. What flowers did ya use?” Osamu asks out of curiosity.

“Oh well I used white roses which you can obviously see, and some baby’s breath. The pink touch is some pink carnations, my personal favourite flower! They also express gratitude and stuff… so it’s cool I guess…”

“Well I am super grateful for the gift, L/N.” Osamu smiled.

“Oh uhm… You’re welcome! I have to get going now, Osamu-san!” You say waving as you speed walk to the door. Osamu just waves in confusion in response to your awkward actions.

“God Y/N, why are you so awkward?” You silently cuss yourself out as you walk away.

Days have passed since your very awkward flower delivery to Osamu. The interaction still haunts your mind like a bad dream, that’s what you wished it was. As you care for the flowers towards the back of the door, a familiar figure walks in. Osamu Miya. Just your luck, you gave him an awkward smile before continuing your work. Osamub slowly walks over to your coworker, Maki.

“How can I help you Miya-san?” Maki asks.

“Just wondering if you have any bouquets of pink carnations?” Osamu says, looking around the store, attempting to find some.

“Oh we just got some in before, they are a popular choice at the moment. Y/N sells them quite well, they are her favourite after all.” Maki smiles.

“Well Y/N has some good taste then, they are also a personal favourite of mine.”

“Really! I would not expect that from you Miya! You give off like jasmine vibes.” Maki laughs.

“I only recently found out what carnations are, a very pretty girl said they were her favourite and they just remind me of ‘er.”

A red blush swipes over your face at Osamu’s comment. Were you , the pretty girl? Surely not. Carnations are a common favourite flower and Osamu must know lots of pretty girls, I mean just take a look at him.

Osamu continues his chat with Maki, checking out for his bouquet of flowers. “Thanks so much Miya-san!”

However, Osamu doesn’t leave the store, his steps bring him towards you. He holds the bouquet out towards you, “here flower shop girl. Heard ya like ‘em.”

“Oh really?” You sarcastically respond.

“Yeah, a friend told me.” He jokes back, “a friend also told me I should ask you out on a date, pretty girl. So whatdya say?”

“I’d love to, Osamu.” You smile shyly.

“Tomorrow night at 7pm. Are you free?”

“For you? I guess I could make some time…”

©slut4msby.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq x reader #haikyuu smut #lea's stories :3 #slut4msby #osamu #osamu x reader #miya osamu #osamu miya #miya twins #onigiri miya #osamu miya x reader #osamu fluff #haikyuu angst #miya osamu fic #miya osamu x reader

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kumimi3 · 6 months

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❪ LOOKISM BOYS<33 ❫ ❮ little sweetheart (child!reader) ⟡ ↳ platonic!Harem (workers version)

- Who knew a young child is involved in such a criminal association such as the workers? Who knew the young sweetheart has captured many of the workers hearts’ as well?

- Your presence was sudden, having been introduce by none other than Charles Choi, giving everyone a brief notice that you are welcomed by the elite CEO himself, that must mean something. You’re special.

- You play such big parts in the worker’s plans despite being young(around 13-14 yrs old), earning Eugene’s approval, praising you for your logical intelligence as he pats your head in soft caresses

- Yuseong, his younger twin, has taken a liking to you as well, offering to let you play with his toys whenever you visit the company--Which happens ever so often, but nobody complained, in fact, they preferred your presence over anything else

- It didn’t matter that you were childish, it was a part of growing after all, a reason why Eugene lets you run rampant inside his company like it’s a playground. Eugene creates rules for safety measure, but other then that, he gave you the privilege to do anything, even going as far as to enter the room when there’s a meeting.

- Samuel acts ever so stoic and dull on you, scolds and huffs at you like a tired father, yet he hopes you know that he only means well. He takes pleasure in being your bodyguard, pretending to act as if it’s nothing when he hears your arrival, yet he is always at the entrance, eager to meet your doe eyes as you open your arms to hug him, to which he complies

- He has taken you to rides before, often being assigned to take you to the private and luxurious school Charles Choi has transferred you in, but he didn’t mind it, even when he clicks his tongue in feigned annoyance, yet he still assists you, even going as far as to show off in his 100 million car. He has grown to like you alot, to the point he lets you play around in his cars

- “Oi! You scratched the new leather seats I got.” “I’m sorry Sir Samuel, I didn’t mean to!” “... It’s fine, just keep still next time, brat.” If it were someone else, they would’ve been 6 ft under.

- Neko gushed at your cuteness, ignorant of the fact that a young teen managed to enter the private area filled with blood and gore--She definitely hides you from the treacherous games, but yet she wanted you to stay.

Ryuhei Kuroda kept pinching your cheeks and teasing you for your height since the day you came, thinking of you as the child of him and Neko, such childish dreams, but he made it obvious all the time

“Yah, Neko~ Our baby Y/n is here!” “Want your papa to buy you a toy or something? Oh, right…. Yeah, I’m your papa!"

Now gun and goo, even with a child, they are still so careless

Goo screams your name from a mile away throughout the entire building, opening his arms wide as he runs towards you, holding you up in the air as he twirls the both of you around

Being given mission by Charles Choi, the infamous pair are always there by your side, protecting you from any harm as you complete your quests for the workers affiliates

Gun, as with his calm demeanor, it’s relaxing to be with him, receiving soft pats and short praises from him many times, not to mention his liking towards carrying you

Whenever you’re with him, he doesn’t waste no time to hold you with one arm and resumes to his schemes, he may be quiet but he’s really great with the littlest of details

You don’t like pickles on your burger? He’ll get rid of it before you can even see it. You gushed about a pair of toys 2 week ago? It’s inside your bedroom now. You only like a certain color in a pack of gummy bears? He’ll pick them himself so you wouldn’t have to <3

Goo is vocal with his wants, always whining that you should call him “Big brother/Oppa” instead of ‘sir’! Spends millions on you, from the headband on your head, to the custom made designer shoes you wear for school.

He’s a maniac, he’s a psycho, but he just couldn’t help but feel at ease with you, for once he’s not meeting new members just as a nutcase like him, you were a breath of fresh air for him

They all protect your innocence from the illegal work they do, they’ll protect you from being ruined, not matter what, you’re their little baby after all <3

Little do they know you’re just as deranged as them lol

#lookism #x reader #lookism hc #lookism webtoon #platonic!reader #ryuhei kuroda #samuel seo #eugene lookism #gun park #lookism joongoo #lookism fic #lookism imagines #lookism manhwa #goo kim #lookism x reader #lookism x y/n #lookism x you

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martiniblues · 9 months

Text

i’d give up forever to touch you ; 이민형

pairing idol!mark x female!reader

synopsis while mark is away on tour, you find yourself looking back at old memories of you two. you have grown used to spending these moments alone while mark is gone, but little do you know he is doing the same thing miles and miles away.

genre established relationship, light angst, fluff, reader uses she!her pronouns, nicknames used for reader (pretty girl, baby) and mark (baby, pretty boy).

wc 1.8k

song : iris by the goo goo dolls

the sheets wrinkled beneath your shifting body. nearly silent crinkles filled the empty void within your room. slivers of light from the moon fell onto your restless figure, highlighting your messy hair and stretched-out shirt. you had gotten into bed at eleven; it was now three, and not a single ounce of your body felt tired.

thoughts ran wild in your brain, causing every other part of your body to feel more than alive. it’s not like this is the first time he’s had to go. with comebacks, schedules, and shows, mark was constantly on the go. most of the time, there would be two to three days in a row where the only place you would see mark was through the screen of your phone.

one time he had to be gone for a week while preparing for a new album, and looking back now, you wish you hadn’t been so dramatic. a week felt like a breeze compared to the treacherous months you were now facing without mark. not only was he physically not here with you in bed, your head rested on his chest, or vice versa, he also hadn’t texted or called all day.

at the beginning, you two constantly kept in touch, sending random photos or messages about how much you missed each other. but now with a dramatic time zone, texts fell further and further apart, which then turned into silence. you missed him more than words could explain; the t-shirt that hugged your body relived some of your sorrow, reminding you of how he had thrown it off the night before he left. giving in, you grabbed your phone from its spot next to you and opened your camera roll, clicking on your favorited photos.

some were of friends and family, but the majority were of you and mark. silly mirror photos taken when putting on face masks and spur of the moment selfies reflected back onto your face, causing your eyes to sting. maybe if it hadn’t been for the overflowing emotion you felt, the tears could be blamed on your brightness being too high, but it took no genius to know the reason. videos from picnics under sunny skies and tipsy late night games echoed in your room and settled right into your heart. silent tears continued to spill down your flushed cheeks, going unnoticed due to your full attention being on your boyfriend. you continued to scroll, stopping on a distinct image. the photo had been taken a little over a year ago.

the two of you sat on the edge of the sidewalk outside of your apartment complex. mark had a full day of schedules, giving him only the dark hours of the night to slip by your place and see you before he had to get up and do it all over again. his exhaustion quickly converted to energy after being in your arms as he stepped into your place. "dude… you’re like a human portable charger." his words were muffled due to being pressed into your neck, before he pulled back to look at you with wide eyes. "can we go for a walk?" he practically begged before lacing your fingers together and pulling you out into the chilly nighttime atmosphere.

"honestly…" you began while the two of you stepped in sync, hands still interlocked and swinging between your bodies. mark made a little hum as his head quickly turned at the sound of your voice. "i was expecting you to pass out when you came over." a breathy laugh left your lips as he continued to swing your hands. "what can i say? it’s just what you do to me, dude." the cheesy words made you both break out into giggles, never once disconnecting your hands. even when he began to wander off, your body just followed his smoothly, like it was second nature.

at this moment though, you stopped. "oh, mark you really know how to make a girl swoon, dude." your unexpected stop made him turn around as your hands became disconnected. at the sudden loss of contact, he quickly made his way back to you, as if you were miles away and not just a few steps. "baby you know i mean it as a term of endearment. i don’t just call anyone dude." his fingers made their way to your face and threaded a few careless strands behind your ear. his hand continued to slowly make its way down your neck and arm, finally re-entwining your fingers as they once were.

your body, which was once cold due to the dropping temperatures, instantly grew hot at his loving gesture. "so haechan, jisung, jeno, and practically all of your friends are on the same level as me?" you teased, tilting your head to the side and peering at your boyfriend through squinted eyes. "no dude- i mean, baby, of course not. hey, i don’t call anyone else pretty girl except you. right, pretty girl?" if there’s one thing you and mark were good at, it was getting each other flustered, and while he tended to express his a lot more than you, this nickname was one of the few gestures you couldn’t pull a poker face at.

feeling your cheeks instantly redden, you dropped your head and stared at the concrete beneath you. even with your eyes glued to the ground, you could practically see the smirk pulling at mark’s lips. "i got you good, huh?" he continued, causing your cheeks to deepen in color. using his free hand, he cupped your face so you could look right at him. "pretty girl," he teased breathlessly once more before pulling you towards him. as your lips slotted between his, you couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth. mark couldn’t hold back either, as you could clearly feel his cheek bunch up under your palm. "you finally got some game, huh, pretty boy," you joked, finally pulling back from his firm hold.

just as you did moments before, mark’s ears and cheeks instantly flushed at the new nickname. "dude stop," he whined, turning away and walking further down the street as he sulked. "oh, shut up, you big baby." you quickly got up behind him and wrapped your arms around his torso to stop his movement. mark titled his head over his shoulder to look back at you.

he could have sworn right there in that very moment that he fell in love with you. the look you had in your eyes like you held everything he ever needed within two small irises, and your hands burning straight through the thin fabric of his shirt and imprinting right into his bones. it’s not like this was the first time love came to mind. he was in love with you and had been for a long time, but in this exact moment, he found himself losing all sense of control and completely falling into you and your entire being.

his chest tightened at the memory. the afternoon sunlight covered his skin, warming him up even more than he already was. his shoulders slumped and his lips pouted ever so slightly as he scrolled through the countless candid photos he had of you. he had been stuck on a specific one for quite some time. from none other than that very night.

the two of you had paused your walk and decided to sit under a street lamp. small white flowers bloomed onto the patch of grass next to you. remembering the habit you had as a kid, you began to braid each flower with another to create a crown. maybe it was the focused expression on your face or the way the light from above you both seemed to settle around you like a halo, but mark swore if he didn’t capture you that very instant that he would regret it for the rest of his life. noticing his movements from the corner of your eye, you swiftly turned your head to catch him in the act.

his thumb pressed down on the screen, causing the photo to turn into a short clip. you had pulled an exaggerated smile at his phone before the both of you broke into a laugh, flowers still in hand. the sound of your laughter was enough to pull a small one out of him at that moment. still sitting in the bed, he reached over and grabbed his headphones from the bedside table. he knew, or rather, he thought, that you would be fast asleep during this time.

every single day had become harder and harder, even if it meant he was closer and closer to seeing you again. if it were up to him, he would book a one-way flight straight to you, even if he could only see you for a day. hell, he could buy you a ticket and fly you to him in no time, but with school and work, he did not want to stress you out even more than you already were. it’s selfish; he knows it, but he wishes you would let him be greedy and keep you by his side the whole tour.

clicking shuffle on his playlist, iris by the goo goo dolls began to drift into his ears. it’s like some higher being knew exactly how he felt and queued the song on purpose. shifting to lay flat on his back, mark stared at the ceiling and pictured that you were there with him, hand in hand, listening to this song together.

your body grew hotter the more you held back your own emotions. yanking the covers off, you situated yourself on your back and gazed upward. not being able to look anywhere else. he was all around you. from picture frames on your dresser to discarded sweatshirts on your floor, everything reminded you of him. but for mark, the only part of you he had was on his phone, and with that, you were still light years away.

a single tear sprouting from the corner of your eye, quickly lead a trail past your lips and down your neck. little did you know that mark too had a tear pool down his cheek in that exact same moment. picking up his phone and opening your texts, he quickly sent you a message.

[one audio] made me think of you and how badly i miss you man. it’s true “i’d give up forever to touch you” right now pretty girl. sleep well for me if you aren’t already. call me when you wake up no matter what time it is. i need to hear your voice. im deprived hehe :)) i love you lots and lots baby. talk to you so soon <333

note i got a tad bit carried away with this oops. but iris has been stuck in my head for days now and i also have been into more angsty reads recently so BOOM here’s this. i know it’s prob not my best work lol but i just wanted to get something out and hopefully get some feedback. if you made it this far thank you so much for reading!!

read part two here!

#mark lee #mark lee fic #mark lee imagines #mark lee scenarios #mark lee fluff #mark lee angst #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct angst #mark x reader #nct x reader #nct 127 #nct dream #nct 127 fic #nct dream fic #nct #nct mark

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tojirin · 9 months

Text

cardigan.

🌀 megumi x gn!reader . fluff , megumi having a crush on reader , silly gojo and yuji , megumi in denial . proofread? nah . WC: 3.4k

"and when i felt like a cardigan under someone's bed, you put me on and said I was your favorite."

Megumi never knew how it felt to actually love someone other than his sister Tsumiki, but now she's gone. But that was until you came along, when he first saw you felt as he respected you, which was an peculiar since there was very few people he actually respected, he didn't even know your name until something, no someone interrupted his thoughts and that someone had to happen to be Gojo. "Heyyy!! first years listen up since this is important!" he said with a slightly goofy tone which caused you to giggle. "so.. are you gonna tell us what you wanna say??" Nobara said with an annoyed tone. "I was getting to that! meet your new classmate, [name]!" Gojo just dropped that bomb and happily skipped away. You took that as a cue to actually introduce yourself, hey! i'm [name] I hope we can get along." It didn't take long for Yuji and Nobara to introduce themselves, but it took a while longer for Megumi finally i introduce himself. "Hello, um..i'm Megumi, Megumi Fushiguro." you reached out your hand for Megumi to shake. "Hey gumi! its nice to meet you, wait is it okay that I call you gumi? i don't know but I feel like I can be casual with you.." "Yeah it's completely fine, don't worry." Megumi isn't sure why he agreed considering he hates when Gojo calls him it. "Well! bye guys I have to get something from Yaga! i'll see y'all later?.." "yeah! byeee!" Yuji and Nobara said in unison.

It was has three months since you transferred to jujutsu high and you've grown plenty close with everyone. Currently it was currently 8:49pm, all students had to be in the dorms by 9:30pm, Yuji and Megumi were in his dorm talking about random topics until Yuji decided to bring up something he noticed lately. "Hey Megumi?" "yes Itadori?.." "You known [name] right? what's up between you and them, you totally give them goo-goo eyes when y'all interact!! you totally have a crush on them! Yuji said while having a giggle fit. "No, I dont, itadori." "You totally doooo!!" by now Yuji was rolling around while wiping his tears from laughter. when he calmed down he spoke up saying "soo you don't mind if I ask them out?" Megumi has never gone silent so quickly. "So you do! I was just kidding!!..so if you like them.." "I don't." no matter how hard Megumi tried to shut down the idea of him having a crush on you Yuji kept on insisting he confessed to you since he noticed the way your eyes would linger when it came to Megumi. Yuji thought if Megumi didn't wanna confess his feelings he'd had to force it out of him. "Megumi! if you don't confess by tomorrow I'm telling them! "ok." "that's all it took?" "i'm not letting you make a fool of me."

That's basically the reason Megumi is currently trying to get the courage outside your dorm to confess since he knew you were in it. Megumi was thinking that the worse was you'd reject him and he'd have to ignore his feelings for the rest of his life, not too bad right? *knock* *knock* then fifteen seconds of pure silence. Then a door opens, he noticed you looked like you got ready in a rush. "O-oh! hey Megumi! I wasn't really expecting for you to be here right now.." "yeah." "well..is there something you need?" "I like you, would you go out with me sometime?" he said very bluntly which made you go wide eyed with shock, considering you never thought he would like you back.

"I would love to."

★ © tojirin ʚɞ 2023

part 2 drabble maybeee??🙈🙈

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howlingday · 23 days

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Jaune's Shampoo

General Arc

"DAMMIT, NORA!" Jaune opened his shower door. As he exited, he noticed his body had drastically changed. Using a mixture of his shampoo and experimental goo found at the fiendish Dr. Merlot's laboratory, Nora had unwittingly created a mutagen just to prank her team leader.

"Huh?" Jaune brought his hand to his lips, curious as to the strangely baritone voice that came from it. Before he could question how his voice became so suddenly deep, he felt hair around his mouth. And not peach fuzz hair, but a full-blown forest of hair grew over his cheeks and past his chin. "What the hell?"

Jaune swiftly opened the shower door, almost breaking it as it slammed against itself. He winced at the sound of almost breaking. Apparently, hair wasn't the only thing that had grown from his shower. Looking down, he flexed his massive palms, noting the thick bushel of arm hair coating both his chest and his arms and his... Whoa! Not gonna get into that description until he figures out what happened to his face.

Wiping his hand over the foggy mirror, he found a strange face staring back at him. It was a face aged by years, perhaps even decades of experience. Thinking on it, he kind of looked like old pictures of his grandpa and his dad, from back in their huntsmen days. But looking in his eyes, he saw the truth of the matter; despite all the changes, it was still him.

"Jaune?" He heard a voice call out to him from outside the bathroom door. "Is everything okay in there?"

Jaune looked at the door, then back to the mirror. What should he tell Pyrrha? 'Yeah, everything is totally fine except I'm 40 all of a sudden in the span of a 5-minute shower!' No, no, he had to play it safe. Or at least try to get some help.

"Uh, actually, I think I might be getting sick." He lied to his partner. "Do you think you could get some medicine from the nurse's office?"

"Uh, okay then, Jaune."

He crept to the door and put his ear to it. He heard something slide, then slide again. Pyrrha left. Good. He opened the door, creeping into his own dorm room to find something he could wear. No way was he streaking across campus, new body or old body. He pulled on some boxers, finding them to be a bit tight for his new mass, and ripped some tears in them to ease his pain. Nothing in his closet even looked like it still fit him, so he'd figure something out. Maybe if he tied his hoodie over his lap, it would pass enough to be a loincloth?

"Jaune, I went over to Team RWBY and they... had... some..." Jaune looked to his partner, having returned from her search for his fake illness. "...medicine." Yes, that.

"Uh, h-hey, Pyrrha." He cleared his throat. "So, uh, funny story, but, uh... You remember when Weiss told me to grow up?"

"Okay, first of all-" The young woman stormed in, raising a finger at Jaune's torso as if her arm was already used to being positioned to his old height. Following her digit to it's point to find the now massive leader of JNPR looking back at her with innocent, blue eyes.

"Uh, h-hey, Weiss." He waved his gargantuan hands at her. "Uh, so I don't think you'll have to worry about me asking you out anymore."

Weiss didn't say anything. The shifty gaze that adornered her reddened face told Jaune she was too distracted by the titanic mass of muscle and body hair to focus on anything at that moment. He looked to Pyrrha who looked about the same. He noticed their eyes wander down a bit too far.

"O-Oh! Sorry!" Jaune took his hoodie and BARELY managed to tie it around to act as his loincloth tarp thing. "Uh, better?"

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

Jaune panted as he sprinted down the halls of Beacon Academy. The screaming masses behind him only urged him to push himself harder. Making his way Beacon Tower, where the headmaster's office sat at the very top, he tapped repeatedly on the elevator call button.

"Come on, come on!"

"There he is~!" Squealed Yang, flanked by her team and Pyrrha. Of all the times for Ren and Nora to be out on their 'totally not together together friendly luncheon as just friends and nothing more to it than that I swear'.

"I have him, girls~!" Squeaked Velvet as she clung to his neck. Damn! If only he wasn't so distracted by Nora's long and overly complicated name for 'not a date' that she insisted on! "Mm, he smells like an ocean beach house~!"

"Let me smell!" Blake shouted, practically foaming at the mouth. "I've actually lived in a beach house! I would know!"

Before she could sink her claw-like fingers into him, he tossed off Velvet (as gently as he could) and when he realized the elevator wasn't coming, he decided there was only one thing left to do. He turned around, grabbed the wall, and launched himself into the air! After gaining some feet or yards or whatever, he dug his fingers into the wall again and propelled himself higher!

"Weiss!" Ruby looked to her partner.

"Alright!" Weiss summoned glyphs on the wall, all the way up to the top, in the direction of Jaune.

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

"No, sir."

"Come on, I'm sure the students will love it."

"Sir," Professor Goodwitch sighed at the ridiculous glasses on the headmaster's face, "I just don't think anyone will want to see anyone else wearing such ridiculous glasses."

"Oh, come now, Glynda." Ozpin removed his glasses. "It's not like the students will revolt and start climbing up the-"

Just then, a large, nearly naked man with wild hair swatted at a young Ruby Rose that swarmed over him like the most annoying bug ever. He clung to the window frame of the office, swatting away until he fell from the tower, leaving Miss Rose to hang from roof.

"Mm..." He mused "Perhaps these are a bit too wacky..."

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

Jaune Arc was dead, laying in the heap of rubble that was once the statue of the two hunters that greeted every student as they arrived at Beacon Academy. Many of the girls wept around his body, especially Ruby, whose tears soaked her hooded cape as she dressed it over his body. The teachers tried to get through, but the more burly students, such as Yang and, oddly enough, Team CRDL, stood in the way of the faculty as the funeral procession continued.

"Don't you think this prank went to far?" Ren asked.

"No." Nora replied, not looking at her best friend, her eyes focused on her dead leader. "T'was beauty that killed the beast."

"C... Can I get up now?" Jaune groaned.

"Just... Just five more minutes." Pyrrha sobbed, holding her partner's head in her hands.

#rwby #jaune arc #jaune's shampoo #weiss schnee #ruby rose #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #velvet scarlatina #ozpin #glynda goodwitch #lie ren #pyrrha nikos #nora valkyrie

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itsabouttimex2 · 6 months

Note

ooo if your not busy maybe Mei or Azure a gn! Reader who’s a descendant of the lady bone demon but said friend tries to hide that fact from them

(Thank you for sending such an interesting request! I ended up liking this scenario so much that I wrote out a few characters for it!)

Descendant of the Lady Bone Demon: Part One

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three)

Maybe they should’ve seen this coming. Maybe there were a few warning signs they didn’t pick up on. Looking back on it now, it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? All those little things should’ve added up a long time ago.

The way the room grew silent and tense when you walked in, no matter how how exuberant it had been prior. How you manage to sneak up on everyone without even trying, as though you had no presence. The wide berth that strangers give you, even though they can’t explain why. That last one had been particularly strange for your friends. They hadn’t understood why people would treat you so coldly, not back then.

They understand now.

Mei Dragon thinks of you as one of her best friends, right alongside MK. Even in childhood were the two of you close, your company providing a brief break from her parents expectations and the crushing weight of living up to her family name. She grows up to think of you as a sibling, really. She’s a ride or die, rise to the challenge, thrill junkie sort of girl. And above all else, she’s fiercely loyal to her friends.

So Mei doesn’t believe a word that LBD has to say. She doesn’t care about destiny, about fate, about these so-called “invisible strings that guide us all through life”.

She lives her life as she pleases, doing what makes her and her friends happy! And she’s not gonna listen to a word that some wannabe world-destroyer has to say about it!

Until the Lady Bone Demon mentions you.

“Y/N bears my very own blood, thin though it has grown. In time, they will follow the very same path I have, to cleanse this world of pain and suffering.”

Now she’s listening. Her control over the Samadhi Fire slips, scorching a ring of death into the earth around her. The heat alone wilts the any flora that was spared outright combustion. “How…” The fire flickers, fizzles.

And then promptly reignites, blazing hotter than ever before. Immediately, the Lady Bone Demon cringes away from Mei’s sweltering power as oppressive heat waves bear down on her. She can only watch in fear and awe as the Samadhi Fire grows hotter and brighter, fueled by rage.

“How DARE you say that about my friend! Y/N would never do anything like that!” A blazing arc of black and red fire slices into the blue crystal formations created by the demon, melting them into sizzling puddles. Her anger builds with each lash of multicolored fire, reducing each and every spiked crystal around her to a mess of glowing goo.

That anger doesn’t fade even after the fight is over, not even after she gets to see the Lady Bone Demon shred apart and drift away. It’s cathartic to watch, but doesn’t make her any less angry about what she heard.

No, that anger only fades once she has you in her arms, hugging you as tightly to herself as possible. You don’t know about your lineage. No one else does either. Just Mei. Which leaves her with the worst dilemma of her life.

Does she tell you? Does she tell anyone?

She doesn’t want to be like Sun Wukong, hiding important information from even the people who would be affected by it the most. She was a victim of that, and it had hurt. She doesn’t want to hurt you. That’s the last thing she wants. But she also doesn’t want to cast any doubt on you, doesn’t want anyone to think you might end up a destructive foe that would one day need to be struck down.

The fear of losing you somehow outweighs the fear of you being angry at her for withholding information from you.

So she keeps quiet.

Mei rationalizes her silence on the matter by telling herself that she’ll tell you later. Yes, everything will work out, she’s sure of it! She’ll just… wait. Just a little bit. When everything calms down and everyone starts to move on from this disaster, she’ll speak up. Once everyone is in a better, happier mood, they’ll definitely be more receptive to the bad news, right? So she isn’t doing anything wrong. She isn’t acting like the Monkey King. She’s… just keeping you safe.

And she really hopes you won’t hate her for it.

———————————————————————

Tang has long pondered your place in this little group. It’s not that he doesn’t like having you here, nothing of the sort! Really, he sees you as family, the same way he sees everyone else in this ragtag group of misfits.

But you stick out like a sore thumb. Everyone else has a direct tie to the original pilgrims who once undertook a legendary journey to retrieve sacred texts.

Tang Sanzang for Tang. Zhu Baije for Pigsy. Sha Wujing for Sandy. Ao Lie for Mei. Sun Wukong for MK. Everyone had someone who their skills, appearance, or even personality harkened back to.

Everyone except for you. Tang had made several guesses before, wondering if there was someone you yourself were standing in the place of. But no one truly seems to fit. Rather than distancing himself from you over this disparity, he makes an effort to grow closer. “It must be lonely”, he reasons to himself, “being the odd man out.” He’s struggled with his own insecurities of being useless or weak, so he can relate to you on a personal level. After making that connection between the two of you, he starts to look out for you, trying to help guide you as you grow.

Tang probably sees himself as your father figure, just the way he sees himself as MK’s.

But, since you don’t have the support system that MK has, he tries to take a more involved role in your life. He’ll sit down with you to chat about any troubles or struggles you have, offering you a kind ear and a welcoming shoulder. And if you ever are struggling with something so bad that it breaks you down and leaves you in tears, he happily takes you into his arms and stays with you through the meltdown. If you fall asleep in his embrace after wearing yourself out, he enjoys it all the more.

He cherishes moments like that, actually.

Sure, he’s sympathetic to your feelings of loneliness and isolation. It’s true that he wants you to be happy. Sometimes he hates the world for hurting you the way it has.

But he loves that you trust him enough to break down in front of him, that you trust him to console and protect you in your weakest moments.

Even at a moment like this, where one of the greatest threats to humanity is bearing down on the two of you. For once, he doesn’t hide or cower. Not when your life is on the life. His golden shield encapsulates both of you, a fierce glare painting his face as he holds you close. You breath raggedly against his shoulder, barely able to support yourself. You had been wounded in the fight, nearly passing out after taking several blows for him and the others. Now, he holds you close, standing tall as you lean on him for support. He watches as the Lady Bone Demon throws attack after attack at the two of you, each blast of crystal and bone shattering and fading against his aureate shield.

The ancient demon glares down at him, a sneer curling her face. “You would fight your destiny? The great monk, Tang Sanzang-”

“I don’t care! Even if I am his reincarnation or his descendant… the choices I make are mine and mine alone! And I will always choose to protect my friends!”

“Even Y/N? Even the very one who bears my blood within them? Are you truly willing to risk saving them now, that they might follow my ways later?”

All the little pieces click into place for him. The mystery he had pondered the most was finally solved, and now he had to live with learning the answer.

“That- that doesn’t matter! Y/N is a person all their own, who will make their own decisions! And I trust them to stay by our side and fight for good! I won’t let you corrupt them!”

And he doesn’t. His resplendent barrier holds fast, shining brightly until all that is left of the demon has been scattered to the wind. He holds you gently, mustering the strength to carry you on his when everyone makes the trip back to Pigsy’s noodle shop. Someone like Sandy or Wukong would definitely better suited to the physical labor he was performing, but Tang couldn’t bear to separate himself from you yet.

Nor is he willing to let go once everyone has taken a seat. He props you up against himself, rubbing your back to keep you awake. “The kids eat first,” Pigsy says, carrying three hearty bowls of noodles. MK, then Mei, then you. Once all of you have your noodles, the chef goes back to the kitchen to start on another batch. Tang holds the bowl and the chopsticks, lifting the noodles to your mouth. Occasionally, he tips the bowl to your mouth so you can sip at the nourishing broth. On any other day, he would’ve swiped a few bites for himself while feeding you. Now, you’re all he can think of. He feeds you bite by bite, then guides you to lay your head in his lap once you’ve finished.

“Hey, Tang.” Pigsy peers down at him, another bowl of noodles in his hands. He passes it to Tang. “What was that demon lady saying to ya anyways?”

Tang looks down at you, watching your chest rise and fall, looking more at peace than ever before. He can’t tell you. Not here. Not now. Maybe not ever. But he and Pigsy can both keep secrets, and more than that, you’ll have two targets to split your anger between, keeping Tang from catching the brunt of it if you ever do find out. So he asks:

“Do you think you can keep a secret, Pigsy?”

Red Son

He doesn’t know why he likes you. By all means, you’re just another peasant, another mortal working at the same noodle store that his arch-rival is. But there’s something different about you. Maybe it’s the way you never seem to flinch or cringe or even cower. Maybe it’s the cool head you keep. Maybe it’s the wide-eyed awe you stare at his creations with.

Even after you had been kidnapped.

“I thinks that it was very clever of you,” you softly admit, not fighting against your bonds. “The way you used the tri-toothed 1x2 plates. I don’t see many people use those.”

He shouldn’t be happy to hear you say that. He should scoff and huff and strike down your praise like it’s meaningless drivel. But it’s not. Not to him. He’s been waiting to hear something like that for a long time, actually. Now, if it only it had been from the mouth of his father…

He shakes himself from those thoughts. “Not that a PEASANT like you could ever comprehend just how truly clever my work is! In fact, the legs of this machine are held in place by a truly unique-” “Technic angular wheel,” you finish for him. “It was a smart choice. I bet finding one that could evenly bear the weight of four legs at once wasn’t easy.”

No… no, it hadn’t been. In fact, it had been very hard to source that component. But here you were… acknowledging him. Praising him. Giving weight to his accomplishments by recognizing them. Somewhere deep inside, he’s a little touched to have his efforts commended.

Not that your kindness inspires him to release you. The only thing that frees you is MK and Mei coming in and storming through, knocking him over the head and escaping with you in their clutch.

Still, he doesn’t… hate you, at least. Or maybe, he just hates you less now. It’s a surprisingly good start.

A start that you continue to build off of throughout your repeated interactions, to his surprise. Your praise wasn’t just a one-time thing, wasn’t a way to get him to drop his guard. It had been genuine, entirely sincere. You had truly thought of him as clever, and you still do.

His schemes become less destructive, but more frequent. MK starts sending you out to deal with him, and most of your “skirmishes” end without any true damage. The two of you talk tech, and then he “tactically retreats” from the fight. Eventually, he drops the act, just swinging by the noodle store to talk with you about mechs or vehicles or rare components and where to find them at reasonable prices.

It’s a strange sight for everyone, the two of you amicably chatting. Sometimes someone will try to butt in, usually MK, who tries to keep up with your conversations to no avail. Other times it’ll be Pigsy, making sure that one of his employees isn’t being threatened or endangered. If one of his new mechs has a Journey to the West inspiration, Tang will happily chime in on it.

But most often, it’s only the two of you, happily talking as equals. Not enemies. Not rivals. Just… actual friends, somehow.

Even if it meant fighting to defend them, these are the sorts of moments he doesn’t want to lose. He wants to protect these cherished hours he spends with you, sharing noodles and blueprints in the middle of a crowded but welcoming restaurant.

Even if it meant fighting a foe he had no chance of defeating. All he has to do is buy a little bit of time. Just enough for MK and his ragtag team of idiots and peasants to smash this osseous demon into pieces. He glares up at her, his hair and hands exploding into flame. It’s a mere display, a small threat to keep her occupied. If she focuses on him, then she can’t hurt you.

Not that she’s trying.

“Foolish child. Do you really think I can’t understand the game that you’re trying to play? You would stand in the way of a peaceful world, all in the name of protecting the heir of your enemy?”

He falls to the ground, clutching his head in pain as she taps into his mind to deliver her next words.

“But a meager resistance cannot hope to undo destiny. I will find Y/N, and add their power to my own. That is their destiny, and I will see it fulfilled.”

“You- you won’t! I wont allow it, you… you PEASANT! You can’t hope to beat all of us! The Demon Bull Family, Sun Wukong and his successor, and the Six-Eared Macaque! All of us will stand against you! If we stand together, there is no threat that can overcome us!”

It’s a little funny, almost. Once, he would’ve scoffed and mocked another for saying such a thing. They sound silly on his tongue, cheesy and overblown. It’s something more suited to MK and his band of goons, speeches of friendship and overcoming adversities together. But it’s true.

And her defeat is testament to the strength that loves brings.

He thinks he loves you. You’re what he imagines having a little sibling is like. He wonders if you could love yourself, if you knew the truth of your heritage. Maybe you could. Maybe you’d fall apart and refuse to trust yourself ever again.

He chats idly with MK as you rest your head on his lap. It brings a strange peace to his heart. You look almost happy, in spite of the bruises and cuts. You look happy, which is proof that you didn’t hear a word that the Lady Bone Demon said about your blood ties.

He doesn’t want to rob you of that happiness so quickly, not when you fought and bled for it.

He absentmindedly strokes your head, thinking of how he’d roast anyone who might try to harm so much as a single hair on it. He can’t let anyone hurt you. Not even himself.

So he keeps quiet, and prays that all will turn out well.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere LMK #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere Mei #Mei Dragon #Yandere Tang #Mr. Tang #Yandere Red Son #Red Son #sorry it took so long #I put a lot of effort into this one!#Crystal Heir

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imagines--galore · 1 month

Note

HELLO HELLO I SAW YOUR LITTLE JIM HAWKINS POST AND I GOTTA ADMIT! I LOVE THE BOY TOO!

was wondering if could request a little jim x reader who meet at the academy and have a little rivalry before becoming lovers? thanks! remember to take care, drink lots of water and stay safe!

Summary: Jim Hawkins & Y/n Y/l/n. Two of the most promising candidates to arrive at the Interstellar Academy in years. From academics to knowing their way around a ship, the both of them were on equal footing. Too bad they see the other as a rival. Then again, perhaps it was a good thing. For if they were to team up, they could conquer the entire galaxy if they wanted to. But when did that rivalry changed into something more? Pairing: Jim Hawkins x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. None. A/N: I mean who doesn't love the boy :3 Ok so the song I decided to pick is Téir Abhaile 'Riú by Celtic Woman. And I borrowed some elements from Kingdom Dance from Tangled because I love that scene. :3 And this got a little longer then I intended it to be.......I added too much detail to everything. Woops? Had a lot of fun with your request though!

You pursed your lips as you observed your reflection in the full length mirror. To say Emmy had been insistent about you donning a pretty outfit for the occasion would be an understatement. Your roommate had practically threatened you with it, saying she would no longer speak to you if you did not dress up. Honestly the female Canid didn't need to threaten you, no one could say no to her. Not even you.

So when she had dug through your closet and taken out the articles of clothing she deemed worthy for the event, you had put them on with no complain. A blouse and a corset with a skirt paired with shoes. The latter you had picked out yourself, having no desire to wear anything impractical should you need to kick someone in the nuts.

"You look gorgeous, Y/n." Parla your third roommate trained one of her several eyes in your direction, while simultaneously applying some black goo to the eyelashes of her remaining eye. "By human standards." Quel barely glanced up from where she was oiling her arms. You were thankful she was, your android roommate had a tendency to squeak when her joints would run out of oil. Emmy grinned proudly as she put the final touches to your hair and stepped away to appraise her work.

"Maybe you'll catch a sailor's eye while in town y/n." She giggled, prompting you to roll your eyes at her. "I doubt I'll have the time." You crossed your arms over your chest. "Since I will be making sure you don't run off half-drunk, Parla doesn't get in trouble because of her wandering eye and avoid Quel being stripped for parts by some con-person."

You had grown to be protective of your roommates over the years you had lived together. Emmy cooed as she reached out to embrace you sweetly. "You don't have to worry about us, honey! We've all excelled at our combat classes. Not to mention we'll have dates who can protect us." Both you and Quel glared at Emmy who only gave a nervous laugh. "Did you have to rope us all into dates?" The android asked, her mechanical voice somehow sounding annoyed. "Its best to go in a large group." Parla came to Emmy's rescue. "My grandmother says there might be some pirates or thieves in the crowd. And given the number of people that have come for the Ball, its best to find strength in numbers."

Emmy nodded enthusiastically. "Perhaps it is best to accept our fate and simply go along with the situation." Quel spoke as she stood and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. You sighed, closing your eyes briefly before shrugging and allowing a smile to play on your lips. You weren't about to be a spoilsport and ruin everyone's fun. After the month all of you had had, with the exams and revisions and tests and selecting the courses you would be majoring in, you all deserved a break.

A bright smile pulled at your lips and Emmy very early squealed at the sight. "Here's to having a night none of us will ever forget!" You stated with conviction, opening the door and leading your friends out of your shared room.

Little did you know how true those words would be for you.

————————–

The town of Aonadh enjoyed a rather prestigious position. On one hand it was the closest to the reputable Interstellar Academy. An Institute that had been thriving for years and housed the future generation of sailors for the Queen's Armada. Many living in town had relatives who went there, or had some other form of relation with the Academy.

On the other hand, the town served as a harbor for many ships. From merchant vessels carrying riches and trading goods, to the crafts bringing new hopefuls to begin the next phase of their journey. The port of Aonadh was always bustling, always busy. There was never a quiet moment. Every other hour would bring a new ship in. Either to relieve itself of its cargo, have repairs done, or pick up people who wished to travel.

Really town was a small word for Aonadh, but the people refused to call it a city. Their ancestors started as humble farmers before the location of the Academy changed their status to something more. They were proud of what they had accomplished over the years as well as their status so a town it remained. One could find almost every life form residing in town, Arcturians, Aquanogs, Canids, Centaurous, Cragorians, Densadrons, Felinids, Geeories, Humans, Macriki, Mantavors, Minotarous, Optocs, Roboticas, Sirenius, Tuskrus, Zirrelians and a hundred more. No one could remember the first specie that lived in Aonadh and no one cared. Everyone was treated on an equal footing and the town had a huge council that had a member from every specie living in Aonadh.

There were several attractions that beckoned the young Cadets at the Academy to spend their time off in town. From pubs that never ran out of ale, to shopping markets that overflowed with the finest wares. Not to mention the massive library that housed more then a million scrolls, books, hoverstories and maps. To say nothing of the lavish streets and squares where something was always happening.

Of course the ports were the most exciting place to be. One could meet new people, learn about shipping from seasoned sailors, or even catch a tour of one if a Cadet was so lucky.

At present the excitement going about had something to do with several large ships that had docked not a day ago. Ships carrying Cadets who had passed out over the years and were coming back for their annual party of sorts. The Annual Ball it was called. Held every ten years. A huge affair. One of the biggest ones to ever occur in the entire galaxy. Guests of honor and other people of importance were sent invitations, while the rest of them simply showed up. Unless they were on duty or had anything of importance to attend to everyone came.

————————–

It was certainly the busiest Jim Hawkins had seen it. In the years he had attended the Academy there had been several festivals he had attended with his friends, but not one of them came close to the excitement of today.

However that excitement had died down to be replaced by a burning annoyance at the sight of the only other human in his year. The very human who was now sitting at the same table as him, both of you sipping from your drinks.

It wasn't that you had anything against being set up for a blind date, it was the boy you had been set up with.

What existed between you and Jim was something of an anomaly. The both of you were the best in your batch, and quite frankly, some Professors seemed to be of the notion that you were both the best Cadets they had seen in years.

If only the two of you got along.

A bitter rivalry had formed between the both of you. Neither of you remembered who had taken the first shot, but all you knew was that you had to one up the other. And that was how it had been your entire career at the Academy.

Spiteful comments thrown at one another. Hateful glances whenever the other would be praised. Childish pranks just to annoy the other. Goading and baiting that resulted in either one or both of you getting into trouble.

The list was endless.

Honestly, if it wasn't so entertaining the Academy would've had taken action years ago. You often wandered if perhaps you and Jim had a betting pool going around in the Academy. Parla had dropped hints here and there, but you weren't quite sure.

Well, whatever existed between you and Jim, it was destroying your evening. As soon as it became clear who your date was, Parla and Quel had made themselves scarce, having the intelligence to stay clear of the obvious Supernova that was about to erupt given yours and Jim's expressions. Emmy had quickly taken you aside, begging you to go along with it, and explaining how Lyon, her crush for a good year and a half, had said he didn't want to ditch his friend while he had fun.

So Emmy had offered a solution.

Correction.

Emmy had offered you as a lamb up for slaughter.

And being the soft-hearted idiot that you were, you had relented, agreeing to going along with Emmy's plan. Only because you knew she was half in love with Lyon, and maybe this night he would work up the courage to tell her of his feelings as well.

And as you sat there, watching your best friend sway in the arms of the half-felinid and half-human male, you couldn't help but give a small smile at the happiness that seemed to radiate from the both of them.

"There must be a Supernova freezing somewhere." Stars, even his voice was annoying.

You turned your head back to look at him, that annoyed frown returning. "And what makes you say that."

He smirked, hands behind his head as he rested against the back of the booth. "You were actually smiling. I thought she-demons never smiled. Something about bursting into flames and the world coming to an end, that sort of thing."

"I smile plenty Hawkins." You responded, pursing your lips. "I just don't happen to smile at maggots such as yourself." The insult, if it were called that, seemed to bristle him enough to warrant an eye roll, though he didn't respond.

Seemingly taking his silence as a win, you returned your attention to the dancing couples. The music was lively and there would certainly be more people coming in soon. Sighing, you wished you could join in the dancing. Of course there was no chance of that happening.

You had no desire to ask a stranger, for fear they would try something untoward. And there was no way in the entire galaxy you were about to ask Jim Hawkins to dance with you.

Glancing at your empty glass of drink, you stood and stretched, completely missing Jim watching you out of the corner of his eye. "If I am to tolerate your company for the rest of this evening I'm gonna get another drink." He rolled his eyes, prompting you to give him a glare that had one too many cadets backing off in fear.

But not Jim. Jim was used to your glares and stares and returned them at an equal footing.

Walking toward the bar, you waved at the many tentacled bartender who was quick to give you your drink. The glass was a little too full, prompting you to walk carefully back to your table.

Perhaps it should've been better that you kept your attention on the people around you rather then the drink you were trying not to spill.

A boisterous group of sailors jostled you, propelling you forward and causing your drink to spill.

Nearly emptying the entire contents of it down the front of one of the sailors who had bumped into you.

"What the hell!? Watch it!" He cried out, swiping at the front of his uniform in an effort to wipe away the liquid. Of course, that didn't help.

Angry at loosing your drink, you glared at the male. "You were the one too drunk to walk properly, how am I to blame for your incompetence?" Maybe it wasn't the wisest of decisions to be picking a fight with someone who looked like he had some Densadron blood in him, but you didn't care.

You were already having a horrible evening, so why not make it worse.

Your words only served to make the male, and his group of friends angry. Pursing your lips, your hand slipped to the hidden slit of your skirt where you kept a taser knife for safety reasons. Your fingers itched, ready to pull it out when suddenly the stare down between you and the male was broken by a very familiar voice.

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you."

Astonished, you pivoted on your feet, just in time to see Hawkins drape an arm around your waist and pull you to his side. That wasn't what shocked you.

What shocked you the most was the smile he wore. One that was directed at you.

"Making friends I see." He continued while your brain tried it's best to compute the situation that was going on. "I'm sorry about that, my girlfriend gets a little light-footed when shes had one too many."

Girlfriend?!?!?

The group of sailors seemed to be calming down somewhat. Jim had that effect on people whenever he stepped in to stop a would-be squabble.

Ironic considering the numerous fights he had started in his younger days.

"How about she pay for the damage to my uniform, and I let her go." The male grunted, scowling down at the both of them. Suddenly his eyes zeroed in on you the way they hadn't before. A lecherous smile formed on his lips, one that had you scowling in disgust. "She can either pay money or show me a good time. I don't mind either." The rest of his group laughed boisterously, elbowing one another, wearing the same smile as their friend was.

His words seemed to snap you out of wherever your mind was. Pushing aside Jim's previous words, and trying hard not to comprehend where his arm still rested around her waist you opened your mouth to tell the disgusting male where he could shove something where the sun don't shine.

A firm but light pressure around your waist had you stopping. You watched, astonished, as Jim moved to stand in front of you, his stance protective, and an anger in his eyes that had you blinking in surprise.

"Or maybe I should have you reported for showing such disrespect to a future Captain of the Royal Armada."

It was then that the group realized who they were speaking to. Their gazes flitted to the pin you had proudly stuck to the right side of your chest. A coat of arms that assigned your rank, despite having not even graduated yet. Jim had the same pin, though his was hidden by the jacket he wore. Though he made no effort to hide it as he pushed aside the front of his garment to reveal it to the buffoons.

Being Captain meant you had authority and power that no lowly sailor had. It didn't matter what age you were, so long as you were a rank above, you held power.

And at that moment you wanted nothing more then to throw the idiot in jail for daring to make such a proposition to you.

The group began to retreat, taking their friend with them. The danger past, Jim turned his attention to you.

"You okay?" He asked, his eyes roving over your frame, as if looking for some sign of injury.

You nodded. "I'm fine." Despite there having been no physical altercation, you were still a little shaken. "You didn't need to step in. I had it handled." You finally said, still clutching your half full glass. Jim rolled his eyes.

"Not from where I was standing."

You scowled. "I was ready to fight him if I needed to."

Jim raised an eyebrow. "And get expelled so close to graduating? You're reckless Y/n, but I know you're not that reckless."

"And why should you care? Wouldn't you prefer to graduate top of the class all by yourself? Not share your spotlight with anyone."

He nodded. "I would." He paused before a teasing smile pulled at his lips. "But then who would be my rival when I make Captain?"

You waved your hand. "I'm sure you would find someone else to piss off."

"I doubt they would be as beautiful as you."

You gaped at him, had barely voiced your astonishment when his eyes widened in realization of what he had just said.

A bright blush overcame his cheeks, one that had him gulping nervously, raising a hand to rub at the back of his neck.

"Y-you think I'm.............beautiful?" You could barely believe the words coming out of your mouth. An awkward shrug was his only response.

Normally you would've teased him mercilessly about revealing something so intimate. But right then? Having just been saved by him, and watching him stand there, unable to meet your gaze, you couldn't help but smile.

"Don't tell me its because of my beauty that you've been a pain in my ass all these years." Your tone was light, teasing, compelling him to respond in his usual sarcastic way.

"That and you're annoying." He stated, a smile pulling at his lips as his blush began to recede. You hummed. "I didn't take you as the romantic type Hawkins."

He leaned closer. "Theres a lot of things you don't know about me y/l/n. Though one thing I can tell about you, is that you've been wanting to dance the entire night but have been too stubborn to ask me." Now, it was your turn to blush as you glared at him. Had you been that obvious? But Jim wasn't deterred.

"Shall we?" He held out a hand, indicating that you take it if you wanted to fulfill your wish to dance.

You pursed your lips, your previous annoyance for him rising to the forefront. You would never call what you felt for Jim hatred, but you wouldn't call it affection either.

But right then, you mused as you took his hand and he led you the dance floor, maybe you could label your feelings for Jim as undetermined.

For the time being.

The dance floor had lost a few dancers as the musicians in the corner prepared to play yet another song. You looked around, feeling a little nervous. It had been awhile since you had danced, and while you had no doubt in your dancing skills, you didn't trust your partner fully.

"You're not going to drop me during a dip or something like that are you?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Jim laughed before shaking his head. "No, I promise I won't."

You frowned, leaning up to press the back of your hand against his forehead. "You're not running a fever are you?" You inquired, feeling your own forehead to compare the temperatures. He flushed at the sensation of her touch against his skin.

"No, why would you ask that?" His questions prompted you to shrug. "Well you're being nice to me, and neither of us have thrown an insult at the other in the last five minutes.

Jim nodded, looking impressed. "Must be a new record for us." He commented to which you laughed softly. "And I'm nice to you because I am a nice guy Y/n." He stated, to which you let out a very unlady-like sound. "Oh please, you've been anything but nice to me since we first met Jim."

Alright so it was strange to call him by his first name, but he had used your first name. And when he had? You had felt a sliver of warmth flicker in your heart. Maybe he would feel the same sensation you did?

Well you were right. At least about the warmth part. And though Jim felt that warmth in his heart, same as you, he also felt it steal across his cheeks.

God! He had never blushed so much in such a short span of time his entire life.

"Well you didn't make it easy now did you? You just had to be a smartass." You smirked. "Better a smartass then an idiot." Jim rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his toned chest. "I don't know, we've both done some pretty idiotic stuff over the years."

The musicians were still tuning and drinking. Apparently it was their break, and while there were several other couples standing around waiting for the dance to begin, your and Jim seemed to be encapsulated in your own little world.

"True, but they've been fun years. Memorable." You stated with a nostalgic smile, thinking back on all the times you had gotten into trouble playing pranks on your rival. "Ones neither of us will be forgetting for a long time." He agreed, matching your smile with his.

Your eyes met his, and you suddenly realized just how much Jim had changed over the years. He had been a little reckless and rebellious in the start, but those traits had toned down over the years. They would never be gone completely, but he had matured, no doubt about that. And not just personality wise, you mused, eyes roving his face, as if you were seeing him for the first time.

He had grown a lot taller the past few years. Taller then you at least, since he was a good head taller then you. And he was handsome, there was no denying that, and kind, given how he had just helped you out of what could've been an ugly situation. Not to mention he was extremely loyal, a trait you had always admired in him despite your rivalry.

Little did you know Jim was thinking along the same criteria. Remembering the day he had met you, and how annoying he had thought you were. With your perfect hair, perfect uniform and perfect scores. Then again his scores had always been perfect too, but he made up for it by being messy and a little rebellious.

You? You were always the picture of perfection. Even so close to graduation, every aspect of your life seemed perfect. From your scores, to your attendance record. Your gorgeous face, and expressive eyes to your hair that always looked so soft that he had to fight the urge to touch it at times.

Though today, he didn't hold back. Raising his hand, he brushed a loose tendril behind your ear, and if his hand lingered a little longer then necessary, and if it brushed against your ear, causing a gentle shudder to race through your body.

Your eyes never wavered, and it looked like he was about to say something.

Just then the music started.

Jim cursed, prompting you to raise an eyebrow at him. "Its a fast jig. I'm not really good with those." You smiled and shook your head. "Thats alright, I can teach you. Its easy."

So saying you quickly placed his hands in the appropriate places, one at your waist, the other holding your own aloft, fingers intertwining togther. As soon as you started moving, Jim cast his eyes downwards, trying his best not to step on your feet.

"Hey!" Your voice compelled him to look up, nearly catching your foot but you gave him a reassuring smile. "Eyes on me. You gotta dance right. Don't worry about my toes, they're made of steel."

He gave a dry laugh, but did as you asked him to. Neither of you looked away from the other, allowing the music from the minstrels and the voices of the singers to overtake all your senses.

You would sometimes tease him for a misstep, he would comment about your being a talented dancer who hid their talent, but there was no malice in your voices. Only playfulness, and dare you think, affection.

The jig began to pick up speed, the footwork getting a little complicated, but the steps were ones that kept repeating over and over, and Jim had always been a fast learner, and he had seen many people dance to this particular song over the years.

So when the part came where he had to twirl you away from him before bringing you back, the move was so effortless and fluid that it looked like you had rehearsed it. Your hair and skirt flew about you as you twirled back into him, your back against his chest, his arms around your body, hands clasped, keeping you close.

You tilted your head, breathless from the dance, your gaze meeting his. Suddenly all that playfulness became charged, and your eyes glimmered with a passion you had never felt before. His lips were so close to your own. To him your lips looked so inviting.

But then the dance continued, and you straightened in his embrace. This time though, this time neither of you spoke. Neither of you looked away as you continued to dance. Hearts beating faster, steps picking up speed, your movements becoming wilder more impassioned.

You twirled away from him, holding one side of your skirt aloft. The song was coming to a close. The last verse had begun, where you would dance around your partner, slow and playful, never breaking eye contact.

And the final chorus? That was the main attraction. Knowing what was to come, Jim braced himself. You took a running start, jumping a little as you neared him to give yourself enough momentum to fly upwards, only to have Jim catch you around your waist, spinning in a fast circle.

A laugh fell from your lips, your arms held aloft at your sides, enjoying the sensation of flying through the air. As Jim began to lower you, your head tilted to look at him once more. Your arms dropped to wrap around his broad shoulders, while his rested around your waist.

The song had ended, the both of you were breathing heavily, twin smiles of jubilation stretching your mouths as the crowd around you roared. It seemed both your dancing had attracted quite the crowd.

And the cheering doubled tenfold when Jim suddenly closed whatever distance was left between the both of you and fused his lips with yours. A moment of disbelief, where your eyes widened almost comically, before closing shut, lips moving as you kissed him back.

It was blissfully sinful, the way he kissed you. You sighed almost dreamily against his lips, allowing your fingers to play with his hair. Jim was no better, he was doing his best not to let his hands explore too much. You were still in public after all.

"What in the furthest reaches of the galaxy is happening here?"

The shrieking voice tore your apart. Extremely reluctantly, you might add as you both turned to glare at Emmy and Lyon in annoyance. Emmy looked like she was about to faint, while Lyon looked utterly bemused.

"We weren't disturbing you while you locked lips, so why're you disturbing us?" You asked, your arms still around Jim's shoulders. Then again his hands still rested on your back, keeping you close.

"Weren't the two of you just at each other's throats?" Lyon asked, blinking stupidly at the two of them. Jim smirked. "Well I can get to her throat again if you prefer. Though not in the same way as before." His words had Emmy squeaking, Lyon gaping, and you rolling your eyes and smacking the back of his head. "Lets not ruin their innocence Jim." You grinned.

"Maybe we should take this someplace private?" You whispered, gesturing between the both of you. "Away from prying eyes." Jim needed no further prompting.

Grasping your hand, he began to lead you out of the tavern. "Don't wait up!" He called out to your two best friends.

"What did I just say about ruining their innocence Hawkins?"

"What? We can always say we just played a game of battleship?"

"Really? That's the euphemism you're using?"

"So long as it clarifies that I'm gonna beat you at whatever we'll be doing."

"What makes you think you're gonna win?"

"I always win."

"Oh, we'll see about that!"

Emmy and Lyon stood blinking in disbelief as you and Jim walked out of the tavern, continuing your arguing.

"Were they talking about having sex, or actually playing Battleship?" Emmy asked, sounding just as bewildered as she looked. Lyon made a face.

"Knowing them, they were actually talking about the latter before moving on to the former."

Emmy shook her head. "Oh, there was nothing in the betting pool for this." She giggled. "Everyone is gonna be so angry."

#jim hawkins x y/n #jim hawkins x reader #jim hawkins #jim hawkins x oc #treasure planet #disney #tangled #kingdom dance #wish #disney channel #disney movie #mickey mouse #marvel

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xfgpng · 1 year

Text

𝐥𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 —

— : [nsfw ] best friends to lovers, fingering, cunnilingus, pet names, degrading + mentions of breeding

— : wc : 1.6k

you and eren have been friends for a few years now. you met through sasha in your second year of high school. you knew sasha growing up and after moving back, you two rekindled your friendship and she introduced you to her other friends.

in your second year of college, you two were practically attached at the hip. you couldn’t find eren without you or you without eren.

you friends loved to tease you two but it was easy to play it off than to acknowledge any of your feelings towards the taller man. he had grown out of his awkward phase and he was so much hotter than you ever imagined he would be.

it didn’t help that he was your college’s heartthrob and everyone wanted a piece of him. it was almost funny that despite his reputation, he’d still drop anything and everything if you needed him.

“does it have to be here?” you whine, walking into your kitchen to get a glass. you always hosted stupid parties and no one bothered to help clean up the next day.

it would mean you, sasha and mikasa would have to deep clean your entire apartment even though they didn’t stay there.

eren grins from where he’s laying on the couch, jean sprawled out on the carpet. a brand new rug because just 2 weeks ago, one of jean’s many suitors threw up all over your pretty persian rug.

you’d never kick eren or jean out. you’re so used to coming home to then arguing over their video games or taking turns cooking. they took care of you just as much as you took care of them and your apartment was far too big to live alone. the perks of having rich parents that lacked parental responsibility when it came to emotional support.

“it’s so much better here” jean says, “we can get drunk and not have to drive back home”

“you get drunk regardless” eren rolls his eyes. his eyes are low and red rimmed so you know they’d been smoking just before you woke up.

“open the windows please” you sigh, closing the fridge to glare at them.

“yes mom” they say in union and you take a deep breath, pushing down the urge to strangle them both. you’ve done it before and it ended with eren awkwardly rushing to his own bedroom and jean laughing his ass off. it wasn’t something you wanted to think about too much.

“i promise to move the rug into the laundry room and lock the door until everyone leaves” jean says and you hide your smile behind your glass.

“fine” you sigh, “but you both owe me”

“anything you want baby!” eren smiles and you hate the butterflies you feel at his nicknames for you.

you roll your eyes instead, deciding to go back into your own room.

“i wish you two would get over yourselves and just fuck already” sasha says dryly, “everyone knows how much you both like each other”

“shut up” you say, “we’re just friends”

“no babe, eren and i are just friends” mikasa scoffs, “he doesn’t look at me the way he looks at you”

you don’t say anything, reaching for a shot. it was easier to forget these things when you weren’t so coherent. you didn’t plan on getting drunk and you weren’t exactly a lightweight so you wouldn’t get drunk off a few shots anyway.

you know eren is probably off somewhere getting high or flirting his way into someone tonight. he didn’t even need to try, you’ve seen the way girls threw themselves at him and you didn’t blame them. it was just that he never showed any interest in being in a serious relationship with any of them.

jean had told you it was because eren was already in love with you but he didn’t think you felt the same way. you didn’t believe any of this, usually telling jean to stop smoking so much. he would just sigh and go back into his own bedroom or into the kitchen.

you end up on the balcony in your own bedroom. the cool air makes you feel a lot better than being inside. you didn’t mind parties, the drinking or the smoking. you definitely knew how to have a good time but you’d often need a moment to yourself like this every now and then.

“there you are” you hear eren before you see him. he’s closing your bedroom door behind him before he joins you.

“having fun?” you ask and he grins, kissing your temple before he sits on the little couch you have on your balcony.

“hm” he nods, “it’s more comfortable here”

you laugh. he often spent his free time up here when he wasn’t working, studying or gaming. you didn’t mind, you enjoyed his company anyway and he was the one person you trusted in your personal space when you weren’t around. you trusted him more than you trusted just about anyone.

“you’re the one who wanted to have the party” you roll your eyes, going to sit next to him. he immediately pulls your legs onto his lap and places his hand comfortably on your bare thigh. you’re glad you decided to wear a skirt.

you can tell he isn’t drunk but he’s definitely high. he was always a lot more relaxed when he smokes. sitting this close, he smells like the scented shampoo he steals from your bathroom and his own cologne. eren always smells so good and when he’s in your bedroom, your things end up smelling like him and you wonder if he does that on purpose because it never happens with jean.

“are you upset?” he frowns, drawing circles on your thigh. he looks adorable like this.

“no, of course not” you place your hand on his nape, “you know i don’t really mind, right?”

he nods, looking up at you. he stares for a while and you notice his eyes drop to your lips and he licks his own.

“I want to kiss you” he says, “for so long”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

you lean closer, cupping his cheek.

“kiss me then” you whisper, “i want you to”

the first touch of his lips is soft and tentative, like his testing the waters but he’s so patient with you. he’s always had a softer spot for you than most people and up until now, he’s never wanted to cross that line. eren loves you, so much and the idea of losing you scares him but he needs you. he can’t pretend that he can walk around like he’s fine with the way things were.

not anymore.

his worries fly out the window when you deepen the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and gripping the loose hairs that’s fallen out his messy bun. he groans, hands coming up to hold your waist.

“fuck” he sighs, “i—”

“it’s okay” you smile, kissing his cheek, “i want you just as much ‘ren”

“I want to make you feel good” he says, “lay back for me”

you nod and reach for a pillow behind you. your outside couch is comfortable and soft.

he kneels on the floor, spreading your legs and kissing up your thighs. he grins when he sees your panties, seeing how wet you already were just from his kissing.

“you want me that much baby?” he chuckles

“don’t tease” you pout and he laughs, biting down on the insides of your thighs before blowing. he watches goosebumps rise and how you try to cover you mouth.

“let me hear you baby” he says, “i don’t care about anyone else”

he rips your panties off, half heartedly apologising as he presses his thumb against your clit. you moan louder than before, eyes squeezing shut as he flattens his tongue on your pussy.

you’ve sobered up a while ago so there was no way either of you could blame this on alcohol. the feelings between the two of you were glaringly mutual.

he groans into your pussy, nose bumping against your clit as he slips his tongue inside you. your hands grip his hair tightly, grinding against his face as he adds his middle finger in beside his tongue.

“your pussy is so fucking perfect” he says, “i can’t wait to fuck you baby, gonna stuff you so full of my cum until it can’t fit and you’re gonna take it because you’re a dirty little cumslut”

you gasp as he adds another finger, scissoring you open. it felt so different from your own fingers and you didn’t want him to stop. you clench around his fingers when you think about him fucking you raw.

you wanted him to cum inside you, over and over again until you were both overstimulated. you’ve thought about it enough times before.

“dirty girl” he chuckles, “squeezing my fingers like that, you want it?”

“yes” you moan, fucking yourself on his fingers as he goes back to sucking your clit. he’s so good with his tongue and fingers and it drives you crazy the way he learns to fast what you like.

“what a fucking slut” he laughs when you beg for another finger. you were so close, your toes curling over his shoulders. you don’t think you’ve ever enjoyed being eaten out like this in your life.

“you gonna cum?” he moves his fingers faster, pressing his thumb against your clit, “gonna make a mess all over my fucking fingers?”

you nod, back arching as you cry out his name, cumming so hard that he has to hold you down. he watches in awe and amusement as you struggle to catch your breath. he can’t help but feel smug about it.

“so good ‘ren” you whisper, finally able to hear the music again as well as your own heavy breathing.

“good because i’m not done with you baby” he kisses your pussy one last time before he stands, “you ready?”

you nod, spreading your legs again and he grins.

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