#adult lottie matthews x reader

[lotties-ashwagandha]

OUR OWN KINGS AND GODS (nsfw)

(adult) lottie matthews x reader (gender neutral but afab), word count 2k

after an argument with lottie, she shares her anxieties with you over a bottle of rum, and in the late hours of the night you find solace in each other’s arms. set post season two finale, but no hunt au (you'll see what i mean). this took me so long to write pls interact/comment/reblog if u enjoy it :(

You have never seen her like this — tired, defeated. Usually such a source of peace, of joy, but as she stands before you, her love for the world is gone. 

“I’m sorry,” she says again – the third time – breaking the silence that has seemed unending. “It’s been a hard day.” 

You nod. You forgive her, as you always do. Even as the sting of her words still digs into you, still has your hands shaking with words of unspoken fury. You hardly ever get in arguments with Lottie, but when you do, it breaks you both.

“Say something,” she asks. You shrug. You clear your throat, try to swallow the knot building inside it. 

It had started early in the morning. Lottie had left the wellness center without telling you, without leaving a note and without taking her phone that she kept for emergencies when she usually left the compound. When she returned you had been calm about it — it wasn’t worth starting anything over. Yet she had been abandoning you frequently all day, sparing no words for you that weren’t sharp. You finally confronted her about it and she had denied you an explanation. She claimed that she needed space. That you were being clingy. She weaponized ways she knew would hurt you and took pride in it when they did. You knew how to reach her, too — hours you had spent sniping at each other just to see who would be the first to fall. 

“Tell me next time,” you say, “if something’s bothering you.” 

Her anxiety — that’s what she had told you caused the dispute. It’s what caused her to abandon you for the day and deny you entry to her mind. She was overwhelmed. You believed her, but you also believed it was more than that. It was the anniversary of the crash. 

Lottie stands before you still. She agrees to your request that she open up next time. 

“I never meant to hurt you,” she tells you. Her voice has become hoarse from all the yelling. 

You take her hands in yours. I know. You trail your thumbs over her knuckles and meet her gaze. “I want to move on from it.” 

She nods. She closes her eyes for a moment, takes a deep breath. “I do, too.” 

The tension begins to dissipate from the silence, yet the kitchen still feels stuffy. The whole house feels tainted by anger. 

“I can’t be in here anymore,” you say. “I’m going outside to get some air.” 

“Hold on,” Lottie orders. You sigh, but wait. She takes a bottle of rum from the counter and comes back. 

“I can hardly stomach rum.” 

“No one can stomach rum.” 

You smile at that. It seems to endear her. Slowly the two of you are becoming more regulated. 

Lottie leads you outside. You take in the fresh air, look up at the dark sky and your clear view of the stars. It’s one of the perks of being out so far from the rest of society at the wellness center, that you’re so connected to the natural world. 

“Come on,” she calls, and you realize Lottie hasn’t stopped walking. You jog a little to catch up to her. 

“Where are we going? It’s late, everyone’s in bed already. We can’t leave.” 

“We aren’t leaving,” she keeps walking. “But I’m not sitting out here all night.” 

You follow in obedience. Lottie leads you to a wood cabin, and you almost laugh when you see the sign — she’s led you to the Sharing Shack. When you go inside, you let yourself drop to sit on one of the cushions surrounding a small wood table. Lottie sets the rum on it before sitting next to you. 

She sighs. Turns her gaze to you, to examine you, to try to see through you to assess your state. 

“Relax,” you tell her, because though both of you are still coming down from the fight, you can’t handle any more talk of emotions. “Everything’s okay now.” 

Lottie nods. She reaches over to give your hand a small squeeze before directing her attention to the bottle of rum. She opens it, and before you can realize you haven’t brought any glasses she takes a deep drink. 

“Does it taste better than last year’s euthanasia tea you tried to get everyone to drink?” You joke. You know it’s cruel, but you can’t help but remember the last time you were in this cabin at night — the rest of the Yellowjackets, how you hardly averted hunting each other through the woods. 

Lottie falters. She sets the bottle down, she can’t meet your eyes. You realize instantly how horrible it was to bring it up, to joke about it. 

“I didn’t mean it like—”

“I know how you meant it,” she says blankly. Her tone is empty. 

Silence. You take the bottle of rum in your hands and swallow as much as you can in one gulp. 

You watch as Lottie stands and closes the curtains. She craves privacy just as you do — the rest of the wellness center doesn’t need to be awakened when she turns on the lamp on the table. 

Lottie rolls her head, stretching her neck. She sits down next to you again. For a while you sit in silence, passing the bottle of rum between one another until your vision starts to become distorted and your irritability begins to dissipate. 

“I never thought we would make it back,” Lottie admits quietly, unprompted. She’s silent for a moment before something changes in her expression — something raw, honest, something she feels shame in. “I didn’t really want us to make it back.” 

Why would you? You want to ask. Why would you want to waste your time in this world when you can be free? In the wilderness, we are our own kings and gods. 

“Do you still wish you hadn’t?” You ask. You’re a little afraid of the answer, but you have to know. “If you could go back right now, spend the rest of your life where you were in the wilderness, would you?” 

Lottie hesitates. She leans back to lay on her elbows, legs stretched out. Like a teenager. It takes her longer than you’d like to decide. 

“No,” she finally tells you. Her eyes meet yours. “Unless you were there with me, or you were dead.” 

You spend a moment taking in the information. You wonder what she’s seen in the wilderness, what was so beautiful in such horror to let her long for it her entire life. Your thoughts are dulled and loop in unending circles from the rum, yet she occupies all of them. 

“Would you go with me?” Lottie asks. You meet her dark eyes and witness the longing dancing in them. “I know it will never be possible, but if it was…” 

You nod. “Yes.” 

Again, your thoughts are drawn back to the last time you were here, with the Yellowjackets – the moment Lottie raised the glass of clear liquid to her lips and had been effortlessly ready for death if no one else was willing to take the fall. You consider her devotion – and you consider the devotion of her followers, those who would die for her just as readily. You realize you’re one of them. 

You realize the gift of the wilderness has not worn away over time or distance: you are free. 

You lean to her level and pull Lottie into a kiss. It takes her by slight surprise, but she recovers quickly, one of her hands weaving into your hair and pulling you to the angle she wants. Her dominance over you is asserted in the span of a second – it’s a shift you feel potently, one you welcome. 

You’ve been starved of her in conflict. Yet again she is sustaining you in the hunger of her kiss, in the control you give her liberally. You have always been hers to guide and mold. 

Lottie sits up, presses a hand to your chest and pushes you down. The discomfort of the floor is soothed by the cushions you lay on – it’s disregarded anyway as Lottie pulls away and you get a clear view of her as she sits above you. In the dimmed light of the cabin she gazes upon you like an angel, or like a god, one you have dedicated yourself to worshiping. 

Lottie pauses. 

“I did it for you,” she says in a hushed voice. You want to ask her what she means, but before you can she stands and crosses the room. You hadn’t noticed them, yet they’re set there all the same – the collection of glasses from last year, one of which had been poisoned. They are all empty now and thoroughly cleaned. One of them is missing. 

Lottie picks one of the glasses. She holds it in her hand and takes a deep breath. After a moment of examining it she comes back, takes the bottle of rum, and pours some of it into the glass. 

“I would have died for you,” she says. She takes a sip of the rum – the glass isn’t poisoned, but adrenaline runs through you as you watch her sip from it. Her gaze never parts from yours. 

You sit up again, and she sits down next to you. One of her hands comes to rest high on the back of your neck. 

“Drink,” she orders. Her voice is quiet but firm, denying her is not an option when she raises the glass to your lips. It’s intense as it travels down your throat – the warmth of it courses through your body, collecting between your thighs. A look of satisfaction comes over her when the glass is emptied. 

“Good,” she praises, and sets the glass down on the table. “You’re so good for me.” 

You bite back a whine. Lottie notices your growing desperation, she thrives in it. She pulls you to her roughly, into another kiss, one that holds promise of more than innocence. She straddles you, pushes you down so you’re laying flat again. 

You begin to fumble with your shirt – she takes it off for you and tosses it to the side. Her lips attach to your neck, biting and sucking and marking you in any way she can. You let out a moan, hear her breath hitch as you do. She moves down your chest, more gentle but just as fervent as she pulls one of your nipples into her mouth. She runs her tongue over it, hands holding you in place as you arch into her touch. You need more. She can feel it, she loves the torture. 

“Please,” you breathe, begging under her touch. Specifics are gone from your mind, just that you need her, in any and every way she would allow. 

“Please? Please, what, honey?” she asks, giving you a look as if she’s oblivious. You don’t respond as soon as she hopes, so before you can speak, Lottie kisses you – it clouds your mind as you feel her pull off your pants. Your hands find her back, yet one moves to her bicep as one of her hands travels between your legs. 

Your grip on her becomes tight as her fingers run through you, stopping to press against your clit. She moves in tight circles in response to your moan, the sudden intensity of her touch overwhelming in the best of ways. 

“Is this what you wanted, baby?” she asks. “This is what you needed, isn’t it?” 

“Yes,” you whine, your eyes falling closed at her touch. One of her hands comes to rest at the base of your neck, and your eyes open again. 

“Look at me, darling,” she demands, and after you nod, she slides two of her fingers into you. She pumps them into you slowly at first, ensuring your adjustment before speeding her pace. Her thumb finds your clit, and you can’t hold back the string of moans that escapes you. 

“Good, let me hear you,” Lottie praises. “You’re doing so well, my love.” 

Every thought other than her, her touch, fades away. All that’s left in the world is her and all the ways you’d let her use you, all of the sacrifices you would make in her name. In the wilderness she was a prophet, and still she rules as one. 

“Breathe,” she reminds you – she could take you to the edge of death and you’d be willing if it meant a moment more of this euphoria. 

You moan, feeling yourself rush close to the edge. Lottie can feel it, the hint of a smile is present at the edge of her lips as she looks down at you. She kisses you, and you pull her as close as you can. 

“Let go for me, baby,” she allows you when she pulls out of the kiss. Her tone is gentle. “Cum for me.” 

Your body responds instantly. At her words your orgasm courses through you, and every muscle in your body tenses before letting go all at once. You can’t hear her praise as you endure, you can’t think. Your breath comes in gasps.  

When finally the pleasure subsides, Lottie pulls her touch from you. Though there’s no cushion to support her on the floor, she lays down on her side and loops her arm around your waist. The care with which she gazes at you sparks the warmth of love in your chest. You feel safe in her arms. 

Through the wilderness you would follow her if it ever came to it. She ruled as a prophet over you, and you would spill blood in devotion. Every sacrifice she wanted she could take – in the wilderness, we are our own kings and gods. 

[braidlottie]

the yellowjackets + movie night

this was an anon request!

/implied younger reader

LOTTIE

- enjoys mostly fantasy/animated movies

- has every streaming service known to man

- “oh this one looks cute!!”

- she ends up crying at the end

- the only movies she will never touch are dog movies

SHAUNA

- has always been a romance/shitty comedy girl

- she has an entire dvd collection that she’s very proud of

- does not own a bluray player, but decides to stick with the dvd player she’s had since 2009 (she has to manually open the disc plate)

- “we’re just like them, aren’t we?” she’s sobbing, pointing to the couple onscreen and holding you

- definitely a cryer when it comes to romances

NAT

- anything horror, gorey, bloody, give it to this guy

- always tells you about the s/o he had in college and how he broke up with them because they didn’t like horror movies 😭

- has to have microwave popcorn and a beer every movie night

- “this is the cheesiest way to die, are you kidding?” and it’s some guy getting his limbs ripped off 😭😭😭

- has always wanted to go to horror conventions his entire life

TAISSA

- believe it or not, i think she’s an action girl

- like a good fight sequence would really suck her in

- if you’re into marvel/dc, she would think it’s too corny but only stick around for the fighting

- “i love to see a women kicking ass. everyone should love that.”

- rip taissa turner u would’ve loved monica rambeau

VAN

- we all know van is a movie freak. he’ll watch anything with you just so we can rate it on letterboxd after

- all of the movies he owns are on vhs and you think it’s pretty funny that he doesn’t know how to work a dvd/bluray player

- one of those guys that never rates any movie five stars,,, except the sandra bullock ones

- “aye, aye. be careful with that, that one’s a rental.” he snatches it from your hand and puts the tape in himself 😭

- has a detailed talk about the movie while cuddling on the couch with you

MISTY

- definitely prefers corny romances and maybe a little bit of sci-fi

- really likes natural disaster movies 😭 like i know her copy of 2012 (2009) hates to see her…

- doesn’t have a problem with horror, unless nat is picking the movie bc she know he’s gonna pick something nasty

- “natalie, the farthest i’ll go is a head coming off.”

- he makes you two watch it anyway, and she’s up all night 😭😭

[kessellluvr]

perv!lottie blurb.. ^~^ im high while writing this.

🔞- cnc!!, wlw sex, spanking, marking

imagine being one of lottie’s acolytes and shes just so obsessed with you.. like whenever youre out of your room she goes to sniff your panties and you notice them going missing sometimes, but you blame it on yourself like “yeah i probably put them under the bed.” and youre too lazy to check ^_^ at night she rubs herself with them %\>{>]^ plus, she’s always touchy, her hand on your lower back or even your ass when she’s behind you, watching you do something. aaand then she gets drunk, finding the courage to sneak into ur room, watching you while youre asleep - burying her face between your thighs and eating you out till you wake up.. and you cant help but like it, like.. having this goddess worship you like this? fuuck. youre gripping her hair, trying so bad not to moan too loud and she’ll fuck you the whole night.. using the hell out of your tight pussy <3! lottie loves leaving her imprint on you, wether its her handprint on your reddened, burning ass after she spanks you or its a hickey or bite mark. she wants everyone to know that youre hers!! and the next morning lottie will act like nothing ever happened just to repeat it at night!!

[lottiesboy-moved]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ CG!LOTTIE 🍼

౨ৎ likes to be called anything, but getting called “mama” will always be her favorite

౨ৎ despite being so easygoing, she will put her foot down if she needs to punish you

౨ৎ her punishments would never be harsh, she probably just puts you in time out for a little while

౨ৎ hates punishing her baby, it makes her just as sad as them :(

౨ৎ whatever baby wants, baby gets. she will spoil you rotten, buying you whatever you lay your eyes on

౨ৎ babies you so much :(( always cooing at you and kissing you, she’s really good at keeping you regressed

౨ৎ hums/sings to you when you’re upset or she’s trying to get you to sleep (and it always works on you)

౨ৎ drops you off at taissa’s or shauna’s house whenever she needs someone to babysit,,, she’ll take you to nat’s motel if she’s desperate

౨ৎ takes you to the arcade, parks, aquariums, movies

౨ৎ picks out your outfits 99.9% of the time and thinks you’re so adorable

౨ৎ loves all the cartoons you watch and even plays with your toys with you!!

[owuwi]

CHARLOTTE MATTHEWS

summary: she didn't tell you it was her birthday.

pairing: charlotte matthews x gn!reader

warnings: none

1.3k words

Today seemed like quite a normal day, nothing out of the usual. Charlotte woke up earlier and left a note saying she needed to head to the market but wanted you to get as much sleep as possible — your girlfriend was always so caring —, so you slept a bit more before eventually getting up from bed to start your day. Once again, everything was quite normal; her followers people were doing their own stuff and nothing seemed out of place.

A couple of hours passed by and you hadn't seen Charlotte, so you decided to ask Lisa if she knew anything about the older woman's whereabouts. Lisa briefly explained that your girlfriend returned a couple of minutes ago and was currently giving a tour of the place but she then asked you if you could help her with a couple of things, and you couldn’t tell her no. Lisa was actually nice and she was the most normal person you’ve met at Charlotte’s compound, so spending some time with her wasn’t actually bad.

She told you she needed help with one last thing at 7:00 pm, she needed you to check on someone. It was this girl that's been at the compound for a couple of months and she truly seemed to be getting better, but Charlotte told everyone that she needed to be under constant supervision. The girl immediately initiated small talk with you the moment you stepped into her room, but she then asked you a question that made you freeze for a moment. "How's Charlotte? I wanted to make her something for her birthday but didn't have the chance." She said, and you couldn't help but to ask her to repeat her comment. Today was Charlotte's birthday? And you didn't know? You made up some excuse to the girl and quickly left her room, rushing back to you and Charlotte's own quarters.

To say you were panicking was an understatement. You've been dating the brown-eyed woman for about six months but the topic of her birthday never came up, leaving you like a bad partner. You immediately pulled out every ingredient there was on the fridge and thought about what to make for dinner, but you knew you — thankfully — had some time to think and prepare. Charlotte was a busy woman, especially in days where she showed people the compound, so you still had a couple of hours left.

It was now 9:30 pm and you had just finished baking a cake, the sound of the front door opening snapping you back into reality. You previously grabbed every single candle your girlfriend owned and littered them all over the place, lighting them up and turning the lights off to make everything looked even prettier. You also placed some rose petals on the floor and table, wanting things to be perfect. "Sweetheart? What's all this?" The older woman asks before letting out a little laugh and walking over to you. "Uh... happy birthday.." You simply mumble out in reply to her question as you wrap your arms around her frame and pull her in for a little kiss.

You can feel how she tenses a bit in your hold at the mention of her birthday, but she quickly kisses you back and wraps her own arms around you. "How did you-" She starts as she pulls away from the kiss before you cut her off. "Why didn't you tell me?" It was now your turn to ask her a question, tilting your head to the side and looking at her with a hint of disappointment in your gaze.

"Because i-... it's not a big deal to me." The woman simply replies — clearly not minding — while she slowly runs her delicate hands through your hair. You knew what she was doing, she was trying to make you relax and forget about it, and it almost worked. You quickly snapped out if the little trance she was pulling you into and said; "It is to me..."

Then, Charlotte realized that you truly felt bad, making her feel a tiny bit guilty for not telling you when her birthday was. She lets out a sigh and her gaze shifts from you and forward the dinner table, a warm smile forming on her lips as she finally notices the meal you prepared, the bottle of her favorite wine you opened, and the small cake you baked. "I'm just not used to anyone caring that much about me to celebrate the day i was born.." She hesitantly whispers some moments later, the warm smile on her lips turning sadder as she looks at you.

You knew a few things about Charlotte's past and you knew about how careless her parents were with her but still, hearing her say those words broke your heart. "Well... i care.." You respond before leaning in and placing another tender kiss to her soft lips.

You knew that you would end up crying if this conversation kept going, that's why you gently pull away from the kiss and grab her hand, leading her towards the dinner table. "I uh-... i hope you like it.." You murmur as you sit down in front of her, looking at her with the silliest smile on your face. "Oh i'm sure i will, my love." Your girlfriend quickly reassures you. And with that said, you two start eating, enjoying the tranquil atmosphere.

The moments that passed were filled with loving words and laughter, the dim lit light of the candles covering your bodies with a warmth that only made things even better. After finishing dinner, you quickly lift the plates up and get ready for the cake, and Charlotte couldn't help but to laugh a little. "Are we really doing this?" She couldn't help but to ask, looking quite amused and almost a bit embarrassed by the scene that was about to happen. "Of course we are! It's not a proper birthday celebration without singing!" You immediately reply yet you couldn't help but to laugh at the sight of Charlotte's expression.

Even with the older woman's — faux — complains, the moment was still perfect, as it always was whenever you were with her. She was laughing the whole time she was cutting her cake thanks to your lovely singing in the background, which only made everything even more memorable. After eating the cake — which actually was quite tasty —, it was now time to wash the dishes. You managed to convince Charlotte to let you wash them and she stood behind you the whole time, comforting arms wrapped around your waist , chin on your shoulder, her lips occasionally kissing the skin of your neck.

She immediately dragged you into your shared room the moment you were done with the dishes and started taking her day clothes off, which you quickly followed suit. She chose a new kaftan to cover herself up before gently wrapping her arms around you — once again —and then laying the two of you on the bed. "You know... this is truly the best birthday i've ever had.." She comments in a soft yet vulnerable voice, breaking the silence as she continues to hold you against her body.

You shift your head a bit so your ear was pressed against her chest, the sound of her steady heartbeat causing you to momentarily close your eyes. "I'm glad, i just wished you would've actually told me so i could've planned everything better.." You mumble out, placing your hand on her stomach and slowly tracing patters over the expensive fabric of her kaftan.

The brown-eyed woman lets out a little chuckle at your words but was quite glad that you weren't mad at her or anything like that for not telling you such an important date. "Well, at least now you know, my darling..." She says before leaning down and placing a slow kiss to the top of your head, nuzzling her face against your hair for a little and taking in your scent.

"Now i know.." You repeat Charlotte's words before softly laughing and then sighing, allowing your body to finally relax and melt in your girlfriend's embrace, feeling yourself beginning to succumb to the tiredness.

[stabortega]

LOTTIE MATTHEWS – NSFW ALPHABET

Summary: Lottie Matthews' NSFW alphabet.

Pairing: Adult!Lottie Matthews x Fem!Reader

Warnings:: NSFW. Mentions of kinks. Smut(ish) No mentions of the crash. Implied fem reader (she/her pronouns used). G!P reader. MDNI.

Author's note: Just a little something to get my writing going, let me know what you think!

MASTERLIST!

AFTERCARE.

Lottie is extremely affectionate after sex. She likes when you hold her tight and caress her hair, it makes her feel like a silly teenager again. She'll definitely take care of you if you're feeling tired as well, always making sure you're okay before going to sleep.

BODYPART.

She loves your abs. Right after your face, your abs are definitely a body part that she loves to kiss and touch all the time. And your hands, too. In her own words, they make wonders.

CUM.

Lottie absolutely loves when you cum inside her. She is the happiest when you fill her up with your juices, it makes her feel so dirty and naughty, which is a side of her that she never shows due to the fact she's running a wellness center, and she needs to be on her best behavior 24/7. Also, she's grown to love the feeling of getting cum on her face and mouth. And she makes sure to swallow every last drop.

DIRTY SECRET.

You're the first person that she has ever told this, but the thought of you fucking her in one of the center's common areas, with the imminent risk of getting caught by one of the fellow members and staff, really gets her going. She knows that the risk is far too big, but as of this moment she's content in having that thought only in her mind.

And also threesomes because she would love seeing you fuck another girl to show her how much you're learning.

EXPERIENCE.

She had a couple of sexual encounters here and there, but you're definitely the first person that she's exploring all of her fantasies with. She trusts you enough to let you in, physically and emotionally speaking.

FAVORITE POSITION.

Lottie has a whole list of positions she enjoys. Most of the times, she prefers to be in charge, even if she's the one receiving. In those situations, she enjoys riding you. But she recently started to enjoy getting fucked on all fours, as well. Missionary is a must; being able to touch you and look straight into your eyes while you're pounding her really gets her going.

GOOFY.

She tries her best to mantain her posture in sex. Lottie knows that being older really arouses you, so she prefers to take advantage in that by being serious, demanding and controlling most of the times. But there are situations that the both of you just want to enjoy some carefree sex to relax your minds for a bit.

HAIR.

She never really fully shaves, but she prefers to keep it trimmed. A simple strip of thin hair is more than enough for her. And in terms of your hair, she doesn't really care if you shave completely or not.

INTIMACY.

Like mentioned earlier, Lottie is a dom. She's a bottom most of the times, but she's the most powerful bottom you'd ever seen. Most of the times she likes to boss you around, telling you what she wants you to do with her.

"Be a good girl for Mommy, baby. You know you're the only one who can make me feel good, right?" She said while holding your hardened cock by the base, while both of you were in the missionary position, your cock almost penetrating her dripping cunt. "Look at how hard you are, baby. Is that all for me, huh?" She asked, but you were too turned on to answer. "Oh, my love... You're seem so out of your head today." She said while masturbating you slowly, your pre-cum leaking through the head of your dick, and she made sure to rub her thumb right on top of your sensitive tip. "Seems like Mommy here needs to show you how she likes to be fucked, hm?"

Also, there are times where Lottie just wants to feel like a bad girl who needs to be punished. Sometimes she just wanna let loose and she what her little girl is capable off. Which is why there are times where she purposefully wants to make you jealous enough so you get to fuck her life out of her.

"Fuck, baby... I didn't knew you were getting that good." She says, out of breath, right after you came violently inside her swollen pussy. "Guess Mommy taught you well, hm?"

JACK OFF.

You worked at the wellness center with Lottie, and obviously dating the head of the compound had its perks. One of them is being able to ask Lottie to assign you any job you'd like, and that's exactly what she did when you asked her if you could take care of the compound's horses. You were so passionate about animals and being able to work with them made you the happiest ever. But, oh boy, she should've thought this through before assigning you to that, because it made you busy with the horses almost 24/7. So, let's just say that there are weeks where Lottie masturbates more than she would like to.

KINKS.

Lottie definitely prefers to be in charge, in like, 80% of the times. She doesn't really care if she's the one fucking or getting fucked, but ever since she started the compound, she realised how much she enjoyed being the one with the power on her hands. She likes to tie you up, to blindfold you, and she most certainly has a wax kink. Cockwarming is something that you guys are trying recently, as well. She obviously has a huge Mommy kink, and the thought of you being an innocent person which had to be teached about everything involving sex arouses her more than she likes to admit.

But when she's subbing, though, she has a completely different kink list. She likes to feel like a whore, hands down a complete bitch who's only purpose in life is to be your cum dump. She absolutely adores when you pull her hair, slap her face and calls her a slut; to her, it's like she's teaching you how to fuck when she's topping, and when you're topping you're showing her everything that you've learned. She loves to be your teacher.

LOCATION.

Even though Lottie wanted to have sex at some risky locations, she knows that the risk of getting caught is too big, no matter how much she wants it. However, there were a few times where you fucked her in her car, in the compound's parking lot at night. Not very risky, but it was the best you could do.

MOTIVATION.

She has a weak spot for your body, in general. If you show her the tiniest bit of your skin, it already gets her going. The times where you have to boss a few people around in the stable also turns her on. And when you call her Charlotte, of course.

NO.

It goes without saying that Lottie wouldn't do anything that you don't feel comfortable doing. She wouldn't ever cross your boundaries and she knows you would never cross hers. If we're talking about kinks, Lottie isn't really a fan of pet play and I also don't see her trying.

ORAL.

Lottie is a sucker for oral (no pun intended). One of the things she loves the most is to have your cock in her throat. To Lottie, that's not even foreplay. She likes to think that she's the best head you'd ever gotten (she's not wrong). She's the kind of woman to give you the whole job; she deepthroats you, massage your balls, swallows your cum or licks it off right off of your stomach. She loves it when you put her hair up in a ponytail and fuck her face, as she was lucky enough to have absolutely zero gag reflex.

Recieving is also a must for her. Like the great teacher she is, Lottie is the kind of woman to guide you when you're giving her head, telling you where she likes your tongue and what she likes the most.

"Fuck, baby, right there... Look at Mommy while you're sucking her, alright? Let me look at your pretty eyes." The older one said, while holding your chin slightly as if she were to guide you. "You see how you're dripping? You see how wet you make me, baby? You're so, so good..."

PACE.

Like mentioned before, Lottie prefers to be more gentle yet demanding when she's topping. She likes to take her time with you, guide you slowly. There aren't a lot of occasions where she's a rough top. However when she's subbing, she wants you to get as rough as you can get. (Which you do, considering that most of the times when you top, is because she purposefully made you jealous). So, it really depends.

QUICKIE.

Only when she's anxious or stressed. When she has an important meeting or something that triggers her anxiety, she asks you to fuck her a couple of minutes before her appointment to calm her nerves. Other than that, she's not a huge fan.

RISK.

Lottie is down to try pretty much anything with you, as long as is something both of you are down to try. There are only a few things that she's not really comfortable trying, but they're not many.

STAMINA.

Lottie works out, has a healthy diet and occupies her mind with yoga and meditation. So naturally, she is unstoppable when it comes to stamina. Usually she cums, at least, three to four times when you have sex, and she tries her best to make you cum the same amount. Considering you guys fuck almost every night, of course. There was one occasion where she managed to have eight orgasms and tried to make you have eight as well, but you only got to five.

TOYS.

She has an considerable toy collection. It's not too much but she's happy with that amount. Lottie has a couple of vibrators to herself, one or two butt plugs that she really wanted to use it on you, if you allow her, some ropes, handcuffs and blindfolds.

UNFAIR.

Lottie only teases when she wants something. If she wants you to fuck her brains out, she'll tease and make you worked up enough until you burst and fuck her like the whore she wants to be.

VOLUME.

She's a screamer. Thank god her cabin is a little distant from the other ones, it allows her to be as loud as she wants, especially when you're rough. When you're having soft sex, however, she's not very loud. And she doesn't really mind if you're loud or not.

WILD CARD.

Lottie loves when you masturbate in front of her. The first times you didn't even knew she was there; she liked to watch you by her own. That happened a lot until you caught her, of course.

"How long you've been watching me...?" You said, your face blushing from embarrassment while you tried, unsuccessfully, to hide your hardened dick with both of your hands. Lottie felt her cunt throb just by looking at you; your guilty eyes, the sweat slightly dripping from your body. "Long enough, baby. I don't wanna be rude and interrupt you, my love. Continue."

And now it's something you do regularly, the shame you used to feel is now vanished. Lottie loves to see you in your most intimate moment, and even though she has the permission to ask you to touch yourself for her, she still watches you in secret when you're alone.

X-RAY.

Like mentioned earlier, Lottie works out. Her body is slightly tanned and ripped, she has some muscles on her abs but nothing too big.

YEARNING.

She's not the kind of person who wants to fuck 24/7, until she met you. And even though she finds you crazy hot, it's something she's trying to control. It's not her fault you make her go insane by just doing nothing.

ZZZ.

Depends on the occasion, but mostly she falls asleep after sex after 20/30 minutes. She likes to take proper care of you first, and she knows you like doing that too, so sleeping right after sex is not something that happens between you two.

[lottiesboy]

early bird!!

pairing: cg!lottie matthews x little!reader

summary: a quiet (but talkative) early morning with your mama.

tags: sfw, fluff, age regression, mama!lottie, reader regresses to 1-2 years, babbling, this is so cutsie, based on a dream i had,,,

you woke up, lottie’s bedroom still dark. you were up too early, the sun wasn’t even up yet! so you decided to wake up your mama.

you crawled onto lottie, resting your head on her chest. she stirred from your weight on top of her. “ma.” you called out for her, poking at her nose. “hm… baby?” one of her eyes peeked open.

“are you up, sweetheart?” her hands went to your face, cupping your cheeks. you nodded and lottie smiled, her eyes opening more to see you.

“its 5:30, little baby. you’re up before the sun, huh?” she looked at her clock on the wall. “mama,” you crawled closer, nuzzling against lottie. she chuckled, patting your back.

“mama’s here, pumpkin. what a talkative little baby this morning.” you made a little cooing noise, lottie smiling so big. “did you wake up because you were hungry?” her thumb brushed the sleep out of your eye. you nodded, squirming against her.

“okay, let mama go to the bathroom first, baby.” she put you back down on your pillow and left the room. she came back a couple minutes later, smiling when she said you calling out for her once again.

“oh my goodness, little baby. you’re melting mama’s heart.” lottie put you on her hip, patting your bottom. “maaaa,” you babbled, nuzzling into the crook of her neck. lottie couldn’t wipe the smile of her face even if she tried. she walked with you to the kitchen, your little babbles of her name being repeated quietly.

it’s quiet mornings like this with you that lottie will always love.

[kissingmilfs]

my darling lamb!au | lottie matthews

summary: cult leader, lottie matthews, finally finds the perfect prey for the hunt. a sweet, innocent lamb to make all hers. introduction to this universe.

cw: 18+, primal kink, oral (r receiving)

a/n: moonstone symbolizes fertility, innocence and linked w/goddess energy. dedicated to my girlfriend @pocolottie

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

the blind fold’s lifted from your eyes and you can’t really make out your surroundings. your feet are bare on the damp, cold ground. the sound of crackling fire and owls hooting fill your ears. once your vision starts to clear, you see you’re in the middle of a circle.

everyone around you is dressed in purple. they’re all staring, expectantly. you look down at your white dress that’s brushing against your ankles. you can’t even remember how you got here. or why you’re here. your memory is still foggy and missing vital pieces.

you hear the crunching of dry leaves from the distance. the group all redirects their eyes towards the person walking down the path. at first all you can make out is her waist length hair, and her floor length red dress. the circle opens up for her the closer she gets.

the woman smiles brightly at you like you’re supposed to know who she is. the smile is familiar and warm. she extends her arms towards you. you curiously stare at her. someone gently pushes you towards her. understanding the hint, you walk forward until you’re only a feet or two apart. the mysterious woman’s smile widens even more.

“we’ve all been waiting for you, my darling lamb.”

the woman’s voice is mellow and sweet with a touch a raspiness. it’s a hint deeper than most women’s voices you’ve heard. nonetheless it stirs unfamiliar yet warm feelings in your stomach. you look around the circle again then back at the woman. searching for answers but finding none.

you feel a soft touch on your cheek. the woman’s hands are slightly calloused but not too noticeable. it certainly doesn’t take away from the warm sparkle in her eyes. or how she’s holding your face like you’re a porcelain doll. fragile, delicate, and innocent.

“we have to start soon. you’ll figure it out.”

the woman drops her hand from your face then proceeds to address the group.

“my faithful acolytes, the time is upon us. we’ve secured our lamb, our sacrifice. now the hunt can begin.”

the words incentive panic in your body. you nervously look around the group but no one else seems worried. this is what they were waiting for. you’re the lamb heading to the slaughter. you search for an escape but the circle is too tight. someone walks behind the woman with antlers. they’re decorated with a mesh cloth passing her shoulders, flowers, and leaves. the woman looks mystical, other worldly. she’s transformed right before your eyes into a queen.

someone stands behind you, jostling you out of your trance. a necklace is fastened and secured around your neck. looking down a cylinder shaped pendant made out of moonstone nestles perfectly between your cleavage. it’s half wrapped in a purple metal the shape of a flower. it’s a rather stunning piece of jewelry. maybe unnecessary if these people are about to kill you.

the circle starts breaking then a gong is hit in the distance. the woods become eerily quiet. your breathing picks up as anxiety creeps over you. the woman steps aside so you have a clear view of the deep woods.

“the hunt commences.”

she looks over at with a pleased smile.

“run.”

the word is uttered so softly, you might have missed it. but it’s too quiet. it’s like everyone is holding their breath. the command hits your ears and your body responds. you hold the hem of your dress darting off into the unknown woods. your feet hit the damp forest floor over and over. leaving behind footprints you’re unaware of. the only light guiding you is the half moon and the abundant stars. these woods are unfamiliar. everything looks the same when you’re running, scared for your life. it’s all a blur as you run deeper and deeper into the woods.

the antler queen hadn’t made any effort to follow you. that may have surprised you if you knew. or was even listening for someone behind you. instead the woman is preparing to find you. she knows these woods better than any one of her followers. the woman haunts these woods every night. aimlessly walking them when the moon is high. she knew, eventually, you’d tire of running and opt to hide until sunrise. it’s a logistically sane solution. it’s what she wanted you to do.

you were needed helpless and fearful. hope seeping out of you every second you ran. she needed you desperate for salvation and rescue. then the woman would appear. a beckon of hope. she had it all planned out. leading the scared, innocent lamb into the jaws of a very hungry queen.

someone presents the woman with a phone. it’s tracking your frantic movements throughout the woods. it wasn’t necessarily needed, but it would make the hunt end faster. the tracker is imbedded in the pendant snug between your bosom. the group waits and waits until you have no option but to rest.

the adrenaline coursing through your body can only last so long. soon your feet start to feel raw and your head throbs. your dress snags on a branch causing you to stumble over your feet. you land painfully on your elbows, scrapping your knees and hands in the process. the pain is exaggerated by how tired, cold and scared you are. you have zero survival skills for this situation. the thought of death frightens you. yet you cannot will yourself to continue running. your back is parallel to a tree. all you can do is sob and wait for someone to find you.

you stopped a lot earlier than expected. that’s not a problem for the woman. the blinking dot alerts her exactly where in the forest you’re resting. the woman has no further need for the device or her acolytes. she sends everyone away then starts her journey into the woods. your footsteps are embedded on the soft dirt floor making it even easier to track you. the woman follows them meticulously, putting her own feet in the tracks. your cry starts to echo the closer the queen gets. the cry of a defeated and lost lamb.

you’re found crying with your head buried between your legs. even then the cries are hard to muffle in the outdoor space. the woman’s soft footsteps aren’t heard over your tears though. she squats to your eye level and lightly touches your shoulder. you jump in fear. your watery, swollen eyes meet the woman’s face. she offers you a sympathetic and understanding smile.

“shh…it’s okay, little lamb. i found you.”

your body trembles with fear. more tears spill down your cheeks. the woman coos at you replacing the hand on your shoulder to your cheek. her thumb rubs soothingly across your skin.

through your tears and sobbing, you manage to choke out, “are you…are you gonna kill me now?”

your captor’s face contorts in confusion. “kill you? why would i do that? i’ve waited far too long for you. no, no, my darling lamb. that’s not what the hunt is about.”

the woman stands once again to her full height. she extends a hand to help you up. once on your feet she steps forward forcing you to step back. her eyes sparkle mischievously.

“no need to be scared, my sweet angel. i promise i’ll never hurt you. i have no intentions on hurting such a precious thing like yourself.”

“what do you want from me?”

the woman chuckles. she doesn’t answer your question at first. instead her hands meticulously remove the antler crown from her head. once it’s set aside, she positions her hands on your waist. she leans into your neck taking a sharp inhale of your scent. your innocence is practically seeping out of you. the smell is refreshing yet provocative. her lips brush against your skin but barely. the sensation replicates a soft breeze tickling your neck.

“isn’t it obvious? i want you. my precious little lamb—all mine.” she whispers near the shell of your ear. “the hunt isn’t over quite yet.”

you’re about to ask the woman what she means but she’s faster than your thoughts. without hesitation she sinks to her knees in front of you. a soft gasp escapes from you. the woman lifts the skirt of your dress, revealing your naked cunt. throughout the whole experience it never dawned on you that you were without underwear. the woman tips her head back slightly to stare up at you. her brown eyes are brimmed with excitement. you both maintain eye contact as her lips press against your thigh. an immediate moan vibrates in her throat.

you stare with inquisitive eyes. you’ve never witnessed such a sight before. the unadulterated hunger written all over her face. her arms wrapped around your legs as if she’s scared you’ll escape. you’ve never had anyone kiss you elsewhere but on your lips. you think you should be telling her to stop. or maybe protesting and fighting. yet your body relaxes the more her lips leave heated kisses on your chilled skin.

the woman’s nose finally bumps against your bare pussy. you jerk forward but find your balance by holding her shoulders. she presses her hand against your stomach, pushing you back against the tree. her tongue cautiously parts your folds taking her first taste of you. you sharply inhale at the new sensation. she waits for you to say, stop, but it never comes. instead your legs partly open wider, silently asking for more. you feel her tongue slowly drag down the length of your cunt. it’s agonizing yet addictive. your body senses there’s more to be done with her tongue. more the woman is holding back on. your timidity and inexperience prevents you on asking for more.

it’s all the same for the woman on her knees. even if you’d work up the courage, she needed to savor the experience. cherish every inch, memorize your taste, document your sensitive spots. the tip of her tongue curls over your clit, slowly lapping at the sensitive bud. her warm tongue juxtaposed with the cold night air enhances the sensation. your entire being feels her tongue on your cunt. you let out a shaky whimper once the minstrels turn into long licks. her tongue presses flat heading downward then the tip teases your clit as she lazily drags it upwards. she interchanges between concentrating on your clit to the long, gradual licks.

it felt wrong to have a queen on her knees, worshiping and drinking from you. every time you glimpsed down this woman is staring back at you which such adoration and marvel. even when her tongue pushes inside you and she starts bobbing her head to drive it deeper. the moans spill out of you like a hushed prayer.

“oh god…”

the woman peels back only by an inch to finally utter her name to you.

“lottie will suffice, dear.”

[filwmmd]

Should I do kidnapper Lottie or Misty?😛

[lottiessidehoe]

Coming very. very. soon chat

[lotties-ashwagandha]

NSFW — thinking abouuuut fucking lottie after she’s had a long day at work, after she’s taken on new clients and has spent the day getting them acclimated to the wellness center.

she’s given so much, she’s drained, and all she can think about when she comes home to you is the way your strap feels buried deep inside of her. she won’t be able to think when she has you fucking her, or when you’re between her legs sucking at her clit and biting marks onto her thighs. you look so beautiful like that, below her, one of her hands woven into your hair to guide you how she wants you — at the very least for control.

yet rapidly she loses control to you, gives it over willingly in every desperate pursuit to have you derive from her the moans you praise her for. that when when she finishes and she pulls you up to kiss her she can taste herself on your tongue, and that it would revive something lost in her to a day spent giving. that you would give to her.

she is not a prophet to you as you’re on your knees in front of her, she has nothing to give you. she is a woman starved of the touch you give liberally at her demand, divine in the eyes of the world and resurrected in the world’s absence.

[braidlottie]

the yellowjackets taking care of you after your wisdom teeth removal

im getting my wisdom teeth out in 2 weeks but i am experiencing the teeniest amount of pain so im taking my mind off of it by writing this (^^)

LOTTIE

whether you’re emotional or just a straight up yapper, she’s always engaged in your conversation and trying to cheer you up/calm you down

you pass by a chick-fil-a on the way home and you beg lottie for a milkshake, but she tells you the doctor said you can’t have it immediately after surgery

and you’re very upset at this, probably ending up in another crying fit

“my sweet baby, i’ll get you a milkshake tomorrow, mkay? we don’t want to hurt your mouth even more.”

literally spoon feeds you soup at home because it’s the only thing you can eat 😭

SHAUNA

she leaves you in the bedroom to rest for a little bit, but you keep leaving to come and find her in the kitchen :(

holding you in her lap to ice your mouth because she knows you hate and you try to take the ice pack off any chance you get

she changes your gauze eventually and you make it SO hard for her 😭😭😭😭

“hey, hey. hold still. and stop touching your mouth, honey. i know you can’t feel your lips, honey- no, they’re not gone-”

she’s literally bribing you with treats and cuddles to behave

NAT

he would actually film you LMAO and send it to the yj gc when you’re conscious

he’s feeding into the silly things that you tell the doctor because you’re high as a kite 😭

forgot how to change your gauze the minute you got to the motel and had to call your doctor for a over the phone tutorial

“nooo, you can’t be eating from the vending machine right now. you want some ice cream from the corner store?”

scared to leave you unattended for so long so he runs down the street and buys the ice cream and by the time he comes back, you’re sprawled out sleeping on the bed 😭

TAISSA

she’s so bossy when it comes to your health and you actually kinda like it…

when she changes your gauze, you try to whine and pull away from her but she sit sits you right back up in her lap

sends you upstairs because she can tell the meds are making you sleepy

“you’re gonna go to sleep and rest, okay? take a little nap.”

she takes your phone because she doesn’t want you to be distracted or trying to fight sleep, but you ask her to stay with you until you fall asleep and of course she says yes :( she gives into you begging for her to turn on your favorite show too :3

VAN

van is the complete opposite of taissa here LMAO

making dad jokes and telling you about the strange plots of his favorite sandra bullock movies just to get your mind off the pain

chuckling at your groan when he tells you all his shitty jokes

“yeah, i was watching the news this morning, and you know the energizer bunny, right? well, he got arrested for battery…”

cooks you up a fresh can of campbells soup (he can’t cook it from scratch to save his life)

MISTY

she's there for you on hand and foot, getting you painkillers, more blankets, whatever you needed

you get so surprised when she brings in your favorite movies and makes your (she remembers all of your personal interests, even if they’re minor)

she will talk your ear off while you’re trying to rest from the anesthesia, but you don’t know how to ask her to stop 😭😭

“but caligula refrused to leave his cage today. but i think he’s just getting older and moodier- oh you’re trying to sleep? ᵃᵐ ᶦ ᵇᵉᶦⁿᵍ ᵗᵒᵒ ˡᵒᵘᵈ?”

she starts whispering instead, petting your head until you fall asleep in her lap

[kessellluvr]

business!sugarmommy!lottie things!! >_< - MDNI

➺ sugarmommy!lottie who lets you choose the colour and shape of her acrylics + gets ur initial on them

➺sugarmommy!lottie who has a collection of dildos and vibrators, all kinds of colours and forms :3

➺sugarmommy!lottie who takes a vid when youre doing it, so she has something to do herself to when shes on a business trip >_<

➺sugarmommy!lottie who has various sets of lingerie, she loves taking you shopping with her so you can see which you like best on her

➺sugarmommy!lottie is the biggest fan of dirty texting, especially when shes at work - she loves having you send her pics of you doing yourself!!

➺sugarmommy!lottie who loves to spank you :3

➺sugarmommy!lottie who takes you out atleast twice a week

➺sugarmommy!lottie having a movie night with you, she has you sitting on her lap, her hand in your panties while ur squirming and trying to focus on the movie - you cumming all over your new underpants, ruining them :(

➺sugarmommy!lottie who drags you off to the restrooms when you two are out, eating you out while youre trying so hard not to make any noise

.. i might add more to this list! ^_^

[randomshyperson]

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.

[lottiesboy-moved]

cg!lottie + sick!gn!reader

- will do anything and everything to help you get better, even if that meant constantly cuddling you all through the day

- she probably has one of those thermometer pacifiers to take your temperature

- makes you take the yucky medicine you don’t want :( but she always gives you some juice to chase it 😭

- you just get super clingy when you’re sick, so when lottie leaving the couch to use the bathroom, you either follow her or throw a little tantrum until she’s back

- she doesn’t care if she gets sick in the end, she just wants to help you get better :(

- makes you drink tea instead of milk

- bouncing/shushing you when you start crying bc of your stuffy nose (it gets even more stuffy and you get more fussy 😭)

- calling you the sweetest nicknames :((

- “my poor little bug. not feeling well, huh sweetie?”

- “it’s okay, lovey, mama’s got you. are you gonna be my clingy little bear this morning? you know how much mama loves it.”

[owuwi]

CHARLOTTE MATTHEWS

summary: after a long, shitty day at work, your girlfriend’s arms are all you need.

warnings: none

1.2k words :]

Oh how you loved your job, but you absolutely despised the person who you worked for. Writing for the newspaper was easy, right? It was! But not when you had your boss messing with your stuff. He's been on your back for the past weeks, telling you what to investigate and how to do it, and you really couldn't take it anymore. You tried ignoring him as much as possible and opted to focus on your job, taking deep, slow breaths and inhaling the scent of paper that mingled with the strong aroma of coffee brewing from the break room. The place was actually really nice and it had that typical newspaper office vibe that was often displayed in movies, the office nestled in an old building in the heart of the busy city. The walls were covered with framed front pages of past issues, showing the newspaper’s proud history. Your coworkers were as dedicated — and some of them as young — as you were, paying no mind to the curmudgeon of your boss, filling the atmosphere with urgency and focus. Despite the often chaos, there was a sense of camaraderie among your team, a shared passion for telling stories that truly mattered.

Today had been a particularly hard day; you woke up later than normal and the fact that Charlotte’s compound was literally in the middle of nowhere was only adding to the reason why you arrived at the perfect time to be yelled at — by your boss, of course — in public, humiliating you in front of your crew. Everyone was quite used to the way he expressed himself, always yelling and complaining about little things, and they understood perfectly how it felt to be treated like that by him, but it honestly seemed that he had something against you at this point and everyone could tell. He didn’t like anything you showed him recently, pointing out minor errors and claiming your work wasn’t up to the standard, and it took everything in your willpower not to snap at him. Hiding your feelings was something you definitely weren’t good at so you couldn’t help but break down. You obviously didn’t do it at work — since the risk of making your boss even angrier was quite high — but tears immediately started rolling down the moment you close the front door of your house behind you, the smell of fresh pine, lavender, candles, and incense creating a warm and inviting atmosphere that only makes you even more emotional.

Since it was quite late, Charlotte was waiting on your shared room, peacefully lying on the big bed with one of your pillows tightly held in her arms, not being aware of your return until she heard the door of the room slowly opening. "Sweetheart?" She calls out but doesn't open her eyes, instead, she just continues cuddling your pillow — something the older woman loved doing since it carried your scent —. The room was warm and faintly lighted by candles scattered around her room.

Maybe it was the problems of your day, the sound of your girlfriend's sleepy voice, or the mere sight of her holding onto your pillow like a lifeline, or maybe it was the three of those things that caused you to start sobbing. Upon hearing your cries, Charlotte immediately opened her eyes and snapped her head in the direction of your voice, already sitting upright. Without hesitation, she got off the bed and stepped over to you, pulling you into a tight and loving hug.

"Baby." She says, not able to hold back the frown on her face at the sound of your cry. Pulling away just a bit, Charlotte gently cups your cheeks in her hands — her touch as soft as always —, brushing away your tears with her thumbs. "Darling, what's wrong?" She asks as she looks at you with those beautiful eyes of hers.

Her touch... it was something you simply couldn't get tired of. It was honestly healing, soothing and light — clearly understanding the fragility of the moment —, the warmth of her skin feeling like sunlight filtering through leaves. You knew it was weird crying over something like this but you couldn't help it, you couldn't work properly when you had people telling you how to do your thing. "Work.. i-i can't..." You manage to mumble out in reply to the brown-eyed woman's question, your whole body trembling in her grasp.

A mixture of both concern and anger washes over Charlotte after seeing how torn up you really were. One of her hands comes up to gently thread through your hair while the other one gently slides under your shirt with the intent of rubbing soft and gentle circles into you back, her nails slowly scratching the delicate skin of your back.

"It's okay..." She coos softly, tilting her head down so she could press several kisses along the side of your neck. "You don't need to say anything, you don't have to, okay?" She quickly replies, noticing that you're in no state to talk, while gently moving the two of you towards the bed.

She leads you to the comfortable mattress and gently lies you down on it, your body instantly relaxing at the feeling of the soft bedding. She wastes no time in cradling you in her arms, your head resting on her chest — the kaftan she was wearing allowing you to feel some of her bare skin —. She keeps one hand in your cheek, tenderly cupping it and brushing the pad of her thumb over your cheekbone, carefully brushing away more tears. It hurt her to see you like this and the thought of you continuing to go back to work for a boss that makes you this upset... it pissed her off. "You don't deserve that, not in the slightest bit, my baby.." She murmurs some moments later before continuing, knowing how stubborn you could be. "Why don't you try becoming a freelance writer, huh? Just so you wouldn't have that prick breathing down your neck all day." She continues while she runs her other hand through your hair, knowing how much her touch could help you in moments like this.

This is a talk you've had multiple times already and Charlotte was right, but still, you were quite stubborn — claiming you needed to work to keep yourself busy —. "N-No, you-... you know i can't..." You simply mumble out in reply to your girlfriend's words but she quickly hushes you up.

"Just... think about it, alright? But imagine.. you and me getting all that time to ourselves... getting to sleep in as much as we want and cuddling as much as we can. No more yelling boss, no more shitty work and late nights.." She suggests before shifting your body a bit and then starting to remove your work clothes.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow... rest for now, darling.." She whispers one final comment, keeping you pressed against her body in the most relaxing manner, her steady heartbeat lulling you to sleep. Charlotte was always going to be by your side no matter the choice you make, she was just hoping you would listen to her advice — like you always do —.

charlotte :3 lottie :3 mommy lottie grr need her so bad