#i think i heard something like this on one of streams

[sylusplushie]

''My dragon...''

summary; when mc is facing death and has no choice but to save her, sylus is forced to show his other side. in the end, no matter how much he tries to hide it, his horns are visible

This was my end, I was sure of it. I couldn't go any further; my strength was completely depleted. Warm blood streaming down my face blurred my vision, but I knew they had surrounded me. They were shouting; their voices reached me in a muffled way. I could hear my own breath, my heartbeat. I felt like I could faint at any moment.

I had no strength left to fight them; all I could think about was Sylus. I thought of all the moments we had spent together. If my life was flashing before my eyes, then my entire life was about him. Without realizing it, I felt myself smile. Despite being on the brink of death, just thinking about him soothed my soul. When I noticed the weapon raised toward me, I knew everything would end. I knew he wouldn't hear me, but I wanted to call out to him anyway. "I love you, Sylus."

I closed my eyes tightly, bracing myself for the end as much as I could. But suddenly, a violent sound rang out. It was so intense that I had to cover my ears, thinking the sky had split in two. Filled with chaotic emotions, I, like everyone else, looked up at the sky. My heart was racing; could things get worse than this?

The sky looked more terrifying than ever. The redness blending into the night's darkness was captivating. Everyone was stunned and frightened. "Did you do this?! Is this one of your tricks?!" they shouted at me, but I was too frozen to answer. There was something moving in the sky—a silhouette? I didn't know, but it seemed like… something huge.

"ANSWER ME, YOU BASTARD!" They aimed the weapon at me again, and that sound echoed once more, like an enraged roar. I was trembling; I had never heard anything so terrifying. When I looked up at the sky again, I couldn't believe my eyes. Was a massive creature flapping its wings, or was I losing my mind? Before I could comprehend what was happening, the ground began to shake. The creature roared with such fury that I was sure even the atmosphere was trembling. Everyone was running in fear, but I was losing so much blood that I felt my vision darkening.

I fell face down; the ground was shaking, everything was shaking. My vision was getting blurrier, and I had no idea what was happening around me. I wished so desperately for everything to be a nightmare. I was going to die there; there was no escape or salvation. I could clearly hear the creature's roars. It looked furious, destroying everything and everyone in its path. The surroundings had turned into a ring of fire and chaos. I was forcing myself to stay awake, but it was futile; my strength was dwindling.

I saw the creature descend, its massive body hitting the ground with a thud that shook everything. My vision was blurry, and I couldn't help but think my mind was playing tricks on me. Could the thing I was seeing in front of me be a dragon? No, it couldn't be. I wasn't in my right mind; this had to be some kind of illusion. Until I felt its breath. Warm and ash-scented, it surrounded me. Damn, it was real. I was face-to-face with a dragon, and I had no strength left. What could be worse than this? Maybe this was worse than death itself.

Yet, there was an inexplicable feeling of safety I felt toward this creature. It was as if I knew it wouldn't harm me from somewhere. I thought if I had encountered a dragon before, I wouldn't forget it. For some reason, I felt very calm; my heart and mind were at peace. It was a strange feeling, one I couldn't even explain to myself.

My vision was getting blurrier; the blood flowing from me was no longer warm. I felt my body starting to freeze. I had no idea how much blood I had lost, but I didn't even have the strength to move a finger. Even though my vision wasn't clear, I was sure the dragon had transformed into a human form. "I'm losing my mind… I must be… or maybe I'm already dead…"

This couldn't be possible, it shouldn't be. It was approaching me with heavy steps, and at that moment, I began to tremble like an injured bird. I didn't know what would happen to me, and I had no strength left to endure. Just before I fully closed my eyes, a familiar scent reached my nose. I knew this scent. I definitely knew it. My body was screaming silently to wake up again. I had to see, I had to be sure. My mind wasn't playing tricks on me; I had to be sure of it. I was battling with my consciousness as if it were a war, trying to open those delicate eyelids had never been this difficult.

I managed to barely open my eyes, and I was being carried by someone. When I lifted my gaze, I saw the owner of that familiar scent. Sylus. It was him. It was really him. I wanted to cry, to shout, but I could barely keep my eyes open. What was all of this? Could it all have been a simple illusion? I didn't know. All I knew was that I knew nothing.

My consciousness was slowly returning. I tried to open my eyes, but the light was so intense that it took a while. I looked around; I was in a hospital room. I was bandaged all over, and I still hurt a lot. Everything I had seen came rushing back to my mind. I had remembered everything; it was impossible to forget. My heart was racing, and I couldn't control my breath. It felt like a dream, but it wasn't. I didn't want to consider the possibility that it was a dream. The door opened, and Dr. Zayne entered. The last thing I remembered was being carried by Sylus; he must have brought me here. Dr. Zayne was taking the best care of me.

Finally, I found the energy to speak. I parted my dry lips. "Dr. Zayne, do you know who brought me here?" My voice was so faint that Zayne had to lean in to hear me. I saw him sigh and frown. I hoped he wouldn't hide anything from me. "Sylus brought you here, but don't worry, I'll take care of you—"

"Can you call him?" I felt bad for cutting Zayne off, but I couldn't suppress the excitement and the need for answers inside me. I wanted to know. I wanted to know what my visions meant. I wanted to know what had happened. Zayne looked at me silently for a while. "I don't know where he is, and I don't think I can reach him. You just need to rest and relax. Don't think about it now."

If only it were as easy as he said, not to think. I didn't have the energy to argue. I thought Sylus would come to see me eventually. I didn't know how many days had passed, but only Luke and Kieran had visited. Sylus hadn't come at all. I knew he was getting information about me from Luke and Kieran, but what I didn't know was why he hadn't come personally. When I asked them, I always got the same answer. "The boss is very busy."

The days in the hospital felt endless. Even though Zayne was taking the best care of me, I had been eagerly waiting to be discharged, and finally, that day had come. Luke and Kieran were accompanying me. I wanted to ask them more questions about Sylus, but I tried to comfort myself, thinking he might be home. It was a silly thought, I knew. Finally, we arrived; I was still having a bit of trouble walking, but I refused to accept any help. "I can manage on my own." When I entered the house, it was exactly as I had expected—Sylus was nowhere to be found. I narrowed my eyes, clearly, he was avoiding me. I turned to Luke and Kieran, who seemed ready to give me the same excuse. "No, Sylus is not busy, and you two are going to tell me where he is."

They looked at each other. I was sure Sylus had instructed them; I knew him well. I stared them down, determined not to leave them alone. "Something is going on, and I'm not stupid. You're going to tell me where he is, or I'll go look for him myself." My wounds were still healing, but I was already prepared to search everywhere. "No! Something could happen to you, your wounds haven't healed yet," Kieran said in a panic, which gave me a chance to manipulate him. "Oh yes, but you can't stop me forever. So, tell me where Sylus is, and I won't exert myself. Or I'll go everywhere to look for him and lose sleep." It wasn't exactly manipulation; I could do more than my best to find him.

Luke and Kieran looked at each other again, knowing how stubborn I was. I crossed my arms and gave them a challenging look. I wasn't going to give up. Sylus had never avoided me before, and I wasn't going to sit idly by when there was an obvious problem. Finally, Luke sighed. "The boss is going to kill us."

According to Luke and Kieran, Sylus was at an abandoned church in the forest. I had no idea what he was doing there; I couldn't even guess. Even if I thought about it, I wouldn't have imagined him being there. By the time we reached the forest, it was already night. I turned to them and said I wanted to go in alone. They weren't very eager to argue with me; both looked uneasy.

The forest was gloomy and silent; I could hear the crows. The ground crunched under my feet. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. No matter how much I hesitated to admit it to myself, I was nervous; my palms were sweating. When I stood in front of the church, the only thing I felt was the urge to run. There was something inside that was causing me to feel that way; it was heavy, sinister, mysterious. Still, my curiosity and longing for Sylus didn't let me take a step back. Slowly, I opened the old door. I had to put all my strength into it, but eventually, it opened with a creak.

The interior was dark and dusty. I had to cover my mouth with my hand. There was very little light inside, just a few candles lazily placed on the floor. It was clear they had been lit recently, which meant he was here. I took a few steps inside, unable to see anything until my eyes adjusted to the darkness. I looked around, but it seemed as if there was nothing. The sound of my footsteps echoed inside. My heart began to beat faster; I didn’t know what awaited me and I was scared. "Sylus…?" Even I could barely hear my own voice, but for some reason, I didn’t want to call out to him loudly. I moved forward into the church, I had come this far, and I wasn’t going to turn back. Near the window, I finally saw a silhouette with its back to me. It was him; it couldn’t be anyone else. He knew I was here; it was impossible that he didn’t. But he didn’t move; he just stood there as if waiting for me to approach. I even began to doubt whether this was the Sylus I knew. I was scared, and I didn’t want him to sense it. Yet I slowly walked toward him; he still didn’t turn to face me.

"Is it always this hard to get rid of you?" His voice rooted me to the spot, my whole body stiff. He spoke without looking at me. "Why did you come? Couldn’t I have wanted to be alone for a bit?"

"You don’t want to be alone; you’re running away from me, Sylus." I took another step toward him; the least he could do was look at me while we talked. "I’ve come this far, but you’re still running from me; you’re not even looking into my eyes." I was filled with complex emotions; I felt like I was going crazy as I failed to understand what was happening. "What’s going on, Sylus? This isn’t you. You’ve never acted like this."

Sylus sighed, his breath fogging up the glass. "Maybe you don’t need to know everything. Some things aren’t worth bothering your little head over."

I frowned; yes, the situation was becoming increasingly infuriating. "I almost died there, and when I opened my eyes, I was in your arms, and then you started avoiding me. You didn’t even visit me in the hospital. And now you’re telling me I don’t need to know everything. Something is happening, but am I supposed to act like nothing’s wrong?"

I heard Sylus growl, though I couldn’t tell if it was out of anger or impatience. His fists were clenched. Slowly, he turned to me, his cold red eyes seemingly piercing my soul. He was still the Sylus I loved, but there was something off. "Why are you so eager for answers? I saved you in some way, and you’re alive; focus on that."

I took a few more steps toward him, now standing directly in front of him. Whatever was going to happen, let it happen; he could be as mad at me as he wanted, but I wasn’t going to hold back anymore. I looked into his eyes, but there was no sign of softening. "What did you do there? Was it some kind of illusion? What are you hiding from me?"

Sylus closed his eyes and lowered his head slightly. I couldn’t see his expression, but I was sure something was deeply troubling him. I cupped his face in my hands and lifted his head to look him directly in the eyes. The coldness was gone; instead, he looked so vulnerable, as if he had no strength left to hide anything. I gently caressed his cheeks with my thumbs; there was no rush to speak. I had to understand him too. "Please, Sylus, I want to know what’s bothering you so much," I whispered, looking into his eyes.

Sylus placed his hand over mine and brought it to his lips. I felt his cold lips on my skin. He stayed like that for a while, then looked at me with his half-open eyes. "Would you promise never to give up on me, no matter what happens? Or no matter what I become?" His voice was soft, very soft. I looked at him for a moment, trying to understand his words. "I would never give up on you. I care only about you, not what you are."

He slowly released my hand, his brows furrowing. I didn’t know if I had said something wrong, but I was sincere in my words. He stepped back a few paces, leaving some distance between us. I was afraid he would disappear again, run away. My heart was beating rapidly. He never broke eye contact with me. "Turn around."

I turned around immediately. I had no idea why I didn’t hesitate. I wasn’t afraid of him; I could give him my very soul. I just hoped he wouldn’t disappear anymore. The only sound I heard was the fluttering of something. "Look at me."

I turned around, trying to prepare myself for whatever I might see. But there was no way I could have been prepared for this. I held my breath. I had no idea what expression was on my face at that moment. Sylus… he had horns on his head, a tail behind him. He opened and closed his wings as if to show me. He stood so calmly. I knew he was waiting for me to say something. At that moment, everything felt surreal. While seeking answers, I found myself with even more unanswered questions. My tongue felt tied, as if I couldn’t utter a single word. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Are you happy?" His voice brought me back to reality. I was still in shock, but I knew I had to shake it off. "Sylus…" I whispered; it was the first word that escaped my mouth. He chuckled, nodding as if he had received the reaction he expected. "Now you understand why I hid myself, why I ran from you, don’t you? I didn’t want you to know what I was."

Sylus looked at his claws for a moment, while I still didn’t know what to say. "I didn’t want to show you this side of me anymore. I was trying to leave it behind. You should have believed everything you saw was a dream." He looked at me again with those cold eyes; it felt like a dagger to my heart.

"What are you talking about?" I walked toward him; he wanted to distance himself from me, but he couldn’t. "What made you think I would give up on you?" He leaned in close to me, our noses nearly touching. "It seems like you still don’t remember anything."

At that moment, I felt like I had shattered into a thousand pieces. I had no idea what he was talking about or what he meant. Before I could gather myself, he continued. "I was hoping you would remember in some way; then I wanted to show you my true self because if you remembered, you would…" He sighed deeply, locking his gaze away from me. "Forget it. Even if you remembered, you wouldn’t want to continue your life with a monster. Nothing would change."

My body moved without my will. I suddenly held his face, looking directly into his eyes. I could feel my eyes filling with tears, and I was trembling… I was filled with so many emotions that I couldn’t describe them. My breathing was becoming irregular, but he didn’t break eye contact. "What nonsense are you talking about…" I finally managed to say, unable to hide the trembling in my voice no matter how hard I tried. "How can you call yourself a monster, Sylus? After everything we’ve been through together, how could you think that I wouldn’t want to be with you just because of this?" Finally, tears started streaming down my cheeks. I held his face tighter; I didn’t want to see anything but his eyes. I wanted to see him, just him.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about when it comes to remembering. Maybe… maybe you’re talking about those illusions I saw. And you wanted me to think that what happened that day was also an illusion. You wanted me to think that the dragon that appeared in the sky to save me was an illusion, but it was so real…" I smiled softly; I would give anything to see that illusion again. To fully remember, to completely understand what Sylus was talking about. But here we were, in this moment. Just because I couldn’t remember something from the past didn’t mean I couldn’t guide this moment. Sylus listened to me silently, saying nothing.

"I love you, Sylus. I love you. I don’t care what you are or what you’ve become. I love you with everything you are. I love you in this life too—"

Sylus suddenly pressed his lips to mine; I could taste the salt of my tears. His kiss wasn’t filled with desire but with longing. We had kissed before, but this was the first time he kissed like this. I held him tightly, grasping his horns. I had no intention of breaking the kiss. Our tongues entwined, our breaths mingled. He held me so tightly I felt like I might be crushed.

When he slowly broke the kiss, he wiped the tears from my eyes. I leaned into his touch, words failing to describe the emotions between us. He planted a kiss on the top of my head and held me tightly again, as if he never wanted to let go. I inhaled his scent, feeling his wings wrap around me. I buried my nose into the crook of his neck and closed my eyes.

"My dragon…"

this is the first time i have written so long. PLEASE let me know your feedback, good or bad. i hope you liked it ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

[skysdelusions]

Where are you going?

Summary: An argument that turns rather spicy

Pairing : Stray kids (ot8) x Fem!reader

Genre : Angst , Smut

Word count : 2.3k

Warnings : multiple positions , unprotected sex (I don’t condone, wrap it up), creampie after cream pie, oral sex (m!recieving) , name calling (kinda) , overstimulation. (Let me know if I missed anything)

Notes : Lord , I pushed through writing this. This is kinda of everywhere but I just want to get something out😼.

(This isn’t proof read , please forgive me 🧍🏽‍♀️)

You had been in a polyamorous relationship for about a year now with eight men. You loved these men so much that you could explode but your relationship was getting to that point where you guys had constant arguments. It wasn’t like your arguments were just with one person but eight people, Once one started the rest followed. Usually you’d end the fight with something hurtful then have hate sex. Today was nonetheless one of those days.

You were arguing with Minho because he had said something so out of pocket that it hurt your feelings. That argument had gotten so loud that the boys started piling out of their rooms to see what was all the yelling for.

“No cause your being such a bitch about it” Minho yelled

“I’M BITCHING? YOU FUCKING STARTED THIS!” You yelled

You were so fucking livid at this point , he tried to act like he was the victim when he didn’t have to say anything negative to you.

“YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO OPEN YOUR BIG FUCKING MOUTH TO CRITICIZE SOMEONE , SHUT THE FUCK UP SOMETIMES!” You yelled

He looked stunned , you never really curse anyone out that bad before. You didn’t care how he felt , you were tired of him poking and prodding at you. He needed to be put in his place.

“Baby don’t you think you were a little harsh?” Chris started

“No, I don’t think I was too harsh Chris , he had it coming .”

You were trying to calm down but they just kept saying you should apologize to Minho. Of course they were taking his side.

“I don’t think she should apologize, you guys know how Minho gets” Changbin said

Tears started to stream down cause you were getting frustrated. When you get mad , you start crying . It's been like that your whole life. Finally, some stood up for you and it was your lovely changbin. You loved changbin so much and you were thinking about rewarding him tonight but your thinking got interrupted.

“She should’ve never said those kinds of things to him though.” Jisung said, and the rest of the boys started agreeing. You honestly couldn’t take it any more and you didn’t have the heart to listen so you walked past some of the boys , to the front door and started putting on your shoes and coat. They started to walk towards you and asked where you were going but you just continued to leave.

You just needed time to breathe, to think, to calm down. You went home and replayed the argument in your head so many times that you cried yourself to sleep.

Hours passed, you woke and it was 10 pm already. You had worn yourself out. Even though you were mad at the boys, you missed them so much. You couldn’t stand being mad at them so you ultimately decided that you were going to make up with them , even though Minho started it.

On the ride to the boys dorm , you were just thinking about the argument and how Minho said those rude things to you. As you pulled up , you had to mentally get yourself together before going inside.

As you used your key for their apartment, you saw that they were sitting on the couch. Once they heard the clip of the front door , they quickly got up and tried to make their way towards but they were toppling over one another.

You put your hand up to stop them from coming close.

“We all need to talk.”

As you all sat on the couch , Before you could explain what’s been weighing on your mind, Minho started to speak.

“Baby, I’m so sorry , I didn't mean anything I said.”

“It felt like you did , you even called me out my name. Then everyone started to gang up on me. You guys made me feel like an outsider in my own relationship.” You cried

“Baby , we never wanted you to feel that way .” Chris started

Before Chris could say anything else , you cut him off.

“Well you did. Only changbin was by my side.” You sniffed

“But I don’t care any more , I said some things I shouldn’t have. I just can’t stand to be mad at you guys.”

After the boys started to give they’re apologies and hugs, you were thinking of a way to punish them.

“I want everyone to sit on the couch except changbin.” You said

As everyone settled on the couch , you went and grabbed a chair from the dining room and placed it in front of them.

“Sit , Changbin.”

Changbin had sat down and you started to explain what you were doing.

“I felt the need to punish you guys so this is what I’ll be doing. I’ll be fucking changbin and you guys will be watching. You guys can’t touch yourselves , you guys can’t touch me , you guys can’t touch changbin and you cannot touch each other. If you break these rules then I won’t be fucking you guys for the rest tonight and the rest of the month. Got it?” You smiled

You were so ready to punish and make Changbin suffer. Your sweet baby was just staring up at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Baby , just be a good boy for me and let me do everything ok?”

“Yes.”

You started kissing changbin's body, as you were kissing him , you started to strip him until he was naked and until you were on your knees in front of him. You pulled his boxers down and his cock shot up and hit his stomach. You grabbed it and Changbin let out a sweet moan. You started stroking up his cock while sucking on his tip. You smiled around Changbin's cock as You heard groans behind you. You continued to take changbin whole cock in your mouth , saliva running down the sides of your mouth as changbin started to fuck your throat.

“Fuck baby, I can’t take it, I’m going fucking blow.” Changbin groan

You continued to deep throat Changbin’s cock until he came down your throat. You made sure you swallowed everything he gave you with a smile. As you get up , you decide to start stripping. You made sure you put on a show for the boys. Once all your clothes were off, you started sinking down on Changbin’s cock. The stretch felt so good. You didn’t have time for being prepped.

“Fuck look at her, that pussy is just sucking binnie up.”

“Baby, I’m so hard.”

“Baby I need that pretty pussy.”

You sank down on Changbin and wasted no time bouncing on Changbin's . Changbin gripped your ass and helped you bounce on his cock. It felt so good but you didn’t want to cum just yet, you have seven cocks to go. You kept bouncing until you felt Changbin tighten his grip on your ass.

“Baby , I’m going to cum fuck.” Changbin whined

You started bouncing faster until you and changbin came undone , he filled up your hole so well.

“Fuck I need a turn.”

You got up off Changbin and turned around to see if the boys had broken any of your rules. None of them broke your rules so you knew they wouldn’t take the chance to not fuck you for a month.

“Han, I want you next.” You said

Han got up and started stripping , he was eager to have his fill of you or you filled up of him.

“How do you want me babe?” You asked

“I want you to ride me like changbin please baby.”

“Anything for you , love. Now lay down.”

You had Han lay on the floor because Changbin was still fucked on the chair. Han looked utterly pretty on the carpet but you were going to have him drooling after you were done with him. You were going to give the rest of them head , they didn’t deserve it today. They were lucky enough for you to fuck them.

You grabbed Han’s cock and started to stroke it. He started to whine so you just eased his suffering and sunk down on his cock. The moan he let was just music to your ears. You got on your knees and started to lift yourself up and down on his cock. You quickened your pace and not even long after, you and Han were cumming together.

“Fuck baby”

You got up from Han, cum dripping out of you but you didn’t care. You were still hungry for cock.

“Felix I need you love”

“Sweetheart , please” Felix begged

Felix's voice always made you feel some type of way and that feeling somehow always made its way down south.

You knew how Felix loved to have you. You grabbed a pillow off the couch and laid on your back. Legs wide and open for Felix. By this point , everyone were stripped down to nothing so it was easier for Felix just to fit between your legs and just start fucking you.

“Shit baby, you already had three cocks in you, how are you still so tight?” Felix groaned

You threw your head back and moaned, enjoying this time on your back cause you still had five delicious cocks to go and they just knew how to fuck you. You came and Felix followed. Fuck this was a lot but you never backed now.

You looked at Seungmin next, oh you were so ready for your puppy. Felix got up off you so Seungmin can fill your hole up with his cock. Seungmin just started to fuck you, he grabbed onto your jumping boobs and started groping them aggressively

“You think you can try to punish me ? Bark for me.”

It looks like he made you his puppy for today.

“Mong , Mong” you moaned put

He was quickening his pace , you came after he finally finished in your hole.

Fourth cock down, four more to go. You had mixed cum stuffed in your hole , running down your legs onto the carpet. This carpet might need to be replaced.

Now you are ready for your pretty hyunjinnie and his long cock. You turned over so you could be faced down, ass up. Hyunjin sank down to his knees and started to knead the flesh of your ass, his finger running over your leaking hole. He was observing.

“So much cum baby, you ready for mine?”

“Yes love.”

Then Hyunjin just stuffed his cock into you without warning , it felt so much different from behind you , Hyunjin was pounding into you and it felt so good fuck. He was hitting the sweet spot in you that made your toes curl.

“Fuckkk Hyunjin.” You moaned as you came, you were so sensitive at this point.

Hyunjin continued to fuck you until he was cumming in your hole. You were left trying to catch your breath.

Five down , three to go.

It was now the maknae’s turn to have you.

“Baby you ok, you’re not too far gone right?” He smiled at you

“If not , I need to hold on to the couch.” He said that with so much dominance. Your innie always seemed to disappear when it was time to fuck you. You got up on shaky legs and held onto the couch. Jeongin rubbed the small of your back as he eased his way into your fucked out hole.

“Fuck, still so tight”

Jeongin snapped his hips into yours at a pace you couldn’t keep up so you just stood there taking it. Jeongin had power , the way he was blowing your back out was utterly so much that you came without even knowing. By this point you were fucked out of your mind , just letting Jeongin fill you up.

Fuck , two more and these were by far the worst cause you knew your pussy was going to be destroyed.

Someone had pulled you down to the floor on your knees and that someone was Minho. He loved to fuck you from behind because he loved to see your ass.

“Just sit here and take it jagi.”

Then you were stuffed full of Minho , you moaned. He set a brutal pace as he grabbed the back of your neck and forced you into a deeper arch. He was ramming his hips into you while keeping you in place.

“I’m so sorry for earlier jagi , please forgive”

Minho was hitting that spot that made your insides tingle , fuck your were about to cum so hard. Minho continued to abuse your hole and you eventually creamed his cock. Minho continued until he stuffed you full.

You were wrecked , cum leaking out of you , hair everywhere but you weren’t done.

“Chris, I need you.”

“You sure baby? You already taken a lot-”

“ I’m sure come on and be the last to stuff me.”

Chris put you on your back with your legs pushed up by your head. Chris loved the matting press. Chris made sure you were comfortable before pushing his big cock into your worn out pussy.

“Fuck , Chris.”

Chris started to put his weight on you and drilled his hips into yours. The sound that was echoing through the living room was sinful , his balls were hitting your ass every time he thrusted into you. Chris was set on making you cum first and hard. Chris quickened his pace until you were babbling. He was hitting your cervix so good that it made you so stupid his cock. It was too much.

“Yes baby girl , take it.”

“Too much, I can’t take it.”

“You can and you will baby girl.”

With that you came on Chris’s come , your juices and the mixed cum running down his balls. Chris came and pulled out. Your legs were shaking and you were fucked out. All you wanted now was sleep. One of the boys picked you up and started taking you to the bathroom so you could pee.

Once you were clean , you were laid in bed and cuddled with your lovers.

[moonjellysfeast]

My Own Galatea- Crybaby x Top Male Reader

cw; (C/n) is Code name, manipulation, abuse, unethical science, dehumanization, Crybaby is @yanderefarm's character

You were probably too young to be involved in such an experiment, not even proper college age nor finished with your classes. But, you were very advanced in your studies, you were still top of your classes despite moving up several grades when you were younger, and they were getting desperate. You remember sitting in the meeting, this company had really only planned to discuss simple matters as a way of showing you how you were expected to interact once you finished school and they actually hired you. They got caught up in more urgent matters and forgot you bore witness to their panic and desperation until you raised a hand to silence the room and flatly announced.

"I have the darling gene... I could probably further his infection. He'd listen to me, I promise" They weren't happy about it, but they were truly desperate, so you were hired.

You first met him in the facility's basement, he was in a large glass room, a small hole cut into the bullet-proof glass to keep you safe when talking with him. You had several psychology classes and so you felt confident in your scheme to make him obedient.

"Hello" You spoke softly and he turned to you, clearly upset, "It's nice to meet you. Do you have a name?"

He glared at you for a bit before walking towards the hole in the glass and quietly grumbling, "I do... A real one..."

You smiled at him, he was only a year or two younger than you, but you would have to treat him more like a child until he knew you were safe. You approached him, ensuring you looked as confident as you felt, you weren't scared of him and he had no need to fear you yet.

"Give me your name, then. We can't be friends unless you tell me at least that much" Your words were laced with honey, he eyed your sweet smile with suspicion and you watched his eyes shift. He was coming around to the idea.

"Elias... I think... no, I am right... I am named Elias..." Even just at the confusion of his name, his eyes were round and damp. You held back the tug of a grin to give him a gentle smile instead.

"You can call me (Y/n). Elias is a beautiful name. It suits you" He looked at you with awe now, like it was the first compliment he'd ever heard, "You know, the people here call me (C/n), isn't that a funny name? Do they call you something like that?"

"Yes. Crybaby... I don't like it" He'd looked so adorable, crouched on the other side of the glass, confessing his thoughts like deep secrets, and watching you with those wet eyes.

You had been completely correct in your assumption that you could further his infection, when you next saw him, his irises were clear heart shapes and he hopped up to greet you at the glass.

"Good morning, Elias~ You seem energetic" You mused as he fidgeted a bit and nodded. "I'd like to play a game today, if you're up for it"

"A game?" He was clearly wary, surely experiments had been done to him in the form of 'games' previously, but he had to trust you.

"It's like simon says. Do you know that game?" he shook his head slowly, "Well, I'm going to tell you to do things, but I only want you to listen when I call you Crybaby, Ok?"

"Why?" He whined

"Because, It'll be fun. Friends play games all the time and we're friends now! We'll start easy; Crybaby, sit down," He sat with little hesitancy, "Very good. Stand up, Crybaby," He stood, "Elias, please come closer"

He walked toward you and you made quite a show of disappointment, causing him to scramble back into place and apologize, already welling up with tears.

"No, no, it's ok. You forgot the rules. Like I said, we're starting easy so it's not a big issue. Crybaby, come here" He hesitated before scrambling to the glass window, tears streaming down his face already.

The games continued each day, once he was good at listening as crybaby, you started referring to Crybaby and Elias as different people, even giving them rules.

"Crybaby doesn't know my name, you only know me as (C/n), right? You pet his head, watching him nod along to your words. "Who am I?"

"(Y)- no... (C/n)..."

"Good boy, you're really learning. I'm sure Elias would be proud of you as well, Crybaby"

You also had begun entering his cell, he adored when you did and would cling to you until you demanded he stop. With becoming so close to him, you also had to begin enforcing all of your rules more strictly.

"(Y/n) I don't kno-" He crumpled to the floor the moment you hand landed on his cheek.

"That's not what you call me, is it, Crybaby?" You sneered as he cradled his cheek and began to tear up again.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'msorry- mhhn, Please don't be mad! (C/n), sir, please!" You placed a hand over his own, silencing him.

"I know you didn't mean it, but we can't have you being bad, can we? No, Crybaby, you have to be a good boy and listen to me. Now, you remember where it is, mark the artery I told you to."

He shakily got up and made an x on the mannequin's neck, precisely where you told him to.

"Good boy" you smiled a bit, " We'll have to work on your crying. as much as your name is apt, no one will like you crying so much when you start to actually work..."

There will be more of this fic but I am stuck.

[punkrockmlchael]

Imagine rockstar!eddie and popstar!reader and the media has pit these two against each other, saying how they hate each other when in reality it's not true at all. And during one of reader's concerts or a live stream someone tries to start something against Eddie and & reader is like "Hold on babygirl, we love Eddie here"

Omg, your mind. (While I agree with this I have a bit of a different take; hear me out)

No because like, imagine being in a band yourself with your closest friends, and you're touring with Corroded Coffin, opening for them. Being in the spot light means rumors flying left and right, it was inevitable. About you, your friends, Corroded Coffin, you and corroded coffin; it felt like there was always something being brought up whether it was true or not.

And you were nervous to tour with them because the media always paints Corroded Coffin to be these big mean and scary guys because, hello, they have this really heavy and deep metal sound (and they’re kinda tall, except for Gareth) but, just because they play metal music doesn't mean they themselves are these big scary guys; in fact they were the opposite.

No, Corroded Coffin are actually sweethearts. The sweetest, to be honest. They would hold doors for you, always make sure you and your bandmates are okay in the public eye; they basically took you and your bandmates under their wings because they wanted to show you the ropes and make sure you’re all living the dream as well.

And after that tour, you kept close ties with them, you were friends with them after all. And somehow you were always the closest to Eddie, he just had the biggest personality in corroded coffin, followed closely by Gareth. Grant and Jeff tended to keep to themselves, but that didn't change the fact that they too were the sweetest boys you had ever met; always always checking in on you. Random texts from Corroded Coffin’s members were something that happened daily it felt like; a meme, a video, a congratulations text on a new song or video coming out. It was always something with those boys, not that you or your friends were complaining.

Anyways, sometime after that tour you and your band were blowing up, becoming bigger and bigger; more songs, more tours, more livestreams to keep your fans up to date!

And one livestream Corroded Coffin got brought up, your band members laughing and recounting the memories of those boys and spending time with them.

Talking about how your first time in California you all went to the beach and Eddie forgot sunscreen and literally was so burnt to a crisp he couldn’t even play his guitar that night because wearing the strap hurt; he stood there and sang while Grant and Jeff did all the work. Talking about how the best part of tour was when Gareth broke his drum set and had to use your bands for a couple shows. Talking about how Jeff and Grant are actually the funniest people you would meet, like they’re always cracking jokes about something whether it be the time or not. (Literally, like remember when Eddie was burnt to a crisp and couldn’t play the guitar? Yeah; they said he looked like a singing and dancing lobster because his bright red shoulders, arms and face were on full display for everyone as he winced into every step he took. As they called it; “the Amanda Show called, they want their dancing lobster back!”)

That was just the start; the fans of Corroded Coffin themselves knew these boys were actually idiots and the funniest people to walk the earth, and you didn’t quite believe it until you witnessed it first hand. (But, come on, they’re idiots and nerds who play metal music; what’s not to love about them?!)

And suddenly while reminiscing on the good old days of tour while on livestream, your friend reads a comment about how Eddie is a dick, and how it appears that everyone’s hates him.

“I heard that Eddie is a dick, he’s such an arrogant asshole who only seems to think about himself and what will benefit him.”

And you whip your head around and look at the screen, raising an eyebrow; ready to defend your friend at any moment. “Oh, no, he's actually quite the opposite. He’s the funniest, sweetest, most caring person we’ve ever met; we love Eddie here. In fact, he actually texted me this morning congratulating us on our new single being out. He said it sounds so awesome, and he can’t wait to hear us play it live.”

Your friend nodded, agreeing with you. “He might look scary with that mullet and those tattoos but I promise you he is actually a giant teddy bear,” they said, nodding along to your words. “He’s a dork, let me tell you.”

“The biggest dork,” you giggled. “But, we love him just the same.”

[specific-dreamer]

my baby, my baby (you’re my baby)

Summary: darry visits his dad and rants. he also cries. </3

Darrel loves each of his kids (and stray kids) equally. No matter how hard Steve tries to pry it out of him, he does not have a favorite.

He loved when Johnny came over for dinner and he’s able to convince the kid to spend the night, he loves when Soda and Steve came home with new stories about their day at the rodeo, he loved when he came home from work and Ponyboy would rush to tell him about the book he’d just finished, he loved attending Ace’s recitals, and he loved when Dally comes over just to sit in their company when he could’ve been causing a ruckus around town instead.

He is, however, a little more partial to his first born than the others. No hard feelings, he still loves his other kids, but Darrel Junior was his first child; the reason he’s the father he was a father, so he’s always going to have a soft spot for him no matter what he does.

Besides, it doesn’t hurt that Junior is the only one who visits him and Karen on a normal basis. Darrel huffs to himself has he sits on top of his grave. Since dying, he’s somehow gained an internal watch, so he knows it’s 3:47pm exactly; when Junior visits it’s usually around 4pm.

Junior’s early today though, Darrel thinks to himself hearing footsteps approaching. There’s not much else he can do but wait for Darry who bends in front of Karen’s grave and leaves her a flower first. If he were alive, Darrel’s heart might’ve clenched. Karen’ll be sorry he missed Darry, but she’s watching over the other boys right now; it’s alright though, Darrel will fill her in when she gets back.

Darry’s head was bent too low for him to get a good look at first, but now that he’s turned towards Darrel’s grave he can see the tears streaming down his face. If he still needed oxygen, he’s sure his breath would’ve caught.

“Hi, Dad,” Darry’s says taking a seat on the ground. Darrel can’t help but notice he’s got his knees pulled to him like he’s trying to protect himself.

He frowns and pulls himself to join Darry on the ground. Hey, kiddo. What’s the matter? He knows Darry can’t hear him, he learnt that the hard way a while ago now, it still brings him a little bit of comfort though.

Darry sniffs. “I don’t know how you and Mama did it.”

Did what?

Darry gestures in the air, “This parenting shit- stuff, I meant stuff, sorry.” Darrel laughs a little; his baby’s twenty years old and still apologizing for cussing.

If he’s honest, Darrel isn’t even sure how he did it. It was in large part thanks to Karen, of course, she kept him steady whenever he floundered. Junior also helped too, though. He doesn’t like to throw the word around, but for all intent and purposes, Darry was a perfect first child.

“The other night,” Darry continues. “I guess Ponyboy had a nightmare or something, I don’t know, but I heard him asking Soda why I hated him.” His voice breaks at the end and Darrel is forced to watch as Junior sobs into his arms.

It’s futile he knows, but after a moment of watching he hugs Darry anyway. Almost as if he could actually feel the hug, Darry stiffens before looking up and staring straight through Darrel. Spooky, he thinks.

“I don’t hate him, I promise.”

I know you don’t.

“I love him a lot, but it’s like he purposely grates my nerves. He knows I’m stretched thin and it’s like he’s trying to see how long until I snap. And that’s not fair! I don’t know how to be a parent, I don’t how to raise a fourteen year old!”

Darrel isn’t sure when it happened, but a flip was switched as Junior started to rant angrily. He doesn’t leave the cemetery too often, but when he did he noticed the two often riled each other up; it was never one sided. He can’t exactly correct Darry though so he hums instead.

“Daddy, you know when you first, um,” he winces. “left, Pony didn’t talk for a week. Okay, that’s fine, I can handle that, but he stopped eating too. I tell him, ‘Pony you have to eat something, you can only go so long without eating before you die from starvation.’ And I kid you not the only thing he says to me that entire week was ‘You’re not dad, Darrel, you can’t tell me what to do’. I never said I was! I just didn’t want him to die too, is that so bad?”

Darrel blinks. That was a lot, and he’s not really sure where to start processing it. He sighs airlessly, It’s not bad. You were worried about him and had his best interests at heart I get it. Is he eating now at least?

Just as fast as it came, the anger seems to leave Darry all once as he lies back on the grass with his hands over his face. “I don’t even know if he eating for real, yet. I’m not home enough to know; I eat my breakfast in the dark, go to work, come home when everyone’s asleep, eat dinner in the dark, go to bed, rinse and repeat.”

Darrel winces. Even he didn’t work those kind of hours and could’ve handled them. Darrel liked his solitude every now and then, but not Darry. No, not his Junior; his Junior is a people’s person through and through, there’s a reason he won boy of his year.

Rubbing Darry’s ankle he says, I know you’re working your ass off, but I’m real proud of you, baby. I know it don’t look it now, but it will all pay off.

There’s a pause, and if he wants he could trick himself into believing his boy heard him, before Darry says something so quietly Darrel has to strain to hear. “I know it’s wrong, and I try not to, but sometimes I wish I let them get taken. I love them, really I do! But Soda wants to drop out of school and Pony hates me and he thinks I hate him back, and don’t even get me started on Dallas— I don’t think there’s a been a weekend where we haven’t haven’t argued or he hasn’t been in jail. I’m trying my best, but I keep screwing up and that’s not fair on them.”

He breaks into sobs again, this time so strong his whole body shakes. Darrel can’t even do anything to comfort him, his stupid ghost body isn’t corporeal. The best thing he can do is stroke Darry’s hair and hope he knows his daddy is here for him. He hates seeing his kids cry and he’s never been more angry that he’s dead.

Between sobs Darry says, “I wanna leave. So I can’t mess anything else up.”

No, sir. You’ll get the hang of things soon enough, it’s a new adjustment and y’all’ve just gotta find your footing. I know it’s hard, but y’all will find it.

“I’m not gonna,” Darry protests. His baby is red in the face and breathing real hard, but Darrel is thankful is eyes are finally starting to dry. “I want to leave but I don’t want to leave them.”

So, what are you gonna do, Junior?

“I don’t know,” he answers. “I wish you were here, you’d know what to do.”

Darrel winces. Actually now-

“Well, never mind. You wouldn’t be dumb enough to get in this situation to begin with.”

Harsh, but he’s probably right. Darrel watches as the gears turn in Junior’s head. He loves all his kids equally, yes. But Darry’s always been his favorite to watch because when he isn’t focused he wears every emotion on his face. He can see exactly when Darrys made his mind up long before he stands up and dusts off his pants.

“You drive a hard bargain, but fine I’ll stay.” Darrel barks out a laugh as Darry checks his watch. It’s 6:29pm, he’s been here for nearly three hours. “Shit, I said I’d make dinner.” Somehow, when Darry looks up he’s staring Darrel in the eyes. “I’ve gotta run, but I’ll see you later.”

Alright, stay tough out there. I love you, kiddo.

Darry’s eyes widen a minuscule amount and he grins as he ducks his head. “Yeah, I love you too, daddy.”

[claramelooo]

CRIMSON REVERIE

Literaries references today, huh? I hope you like it.

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Warning: +18, NSFW, Dirty talk, feet fetish

Summary: The witch makes you hers, finally.

Hey! Now I've a masterlist

POETRY

The days after the camp were a mixture of tension and inevitability. You and Wanda seemed to orbit each other, like planets drawn by the gravity of something far greater than either of you was willing to admit.

In the classroom, the glances between you two grew more intense. Sometimes, you could feel her gaze fixed on you, so burning that it was impossible not to shiver. Once, while reading aloud, your voice faltered because Wanda tilted her head subtly, her green eyes evaluating every detail of you as if you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.

The atmosphere felt heavy, as if the air was thick with something no one could explain, but which you felt deeply.

You felt her gaze land on you from time to time. It wasn’t just any look—it was something burning, filled with intensity, as if she were waiting for you to do something, anything, to draw her attention even more.

The classroom was immersed in an almost reverent silence, except for Wanda Maximoff’s soft voice as she read a passage from Crime and Punishment. She moved between the desks with a copy of the book in hand, the afternoon light streaming through the windows and illuminating her red hair like a profane halo.

“‘Man has become so accustomed to reasoning about everything and always on the basis of arguments that he has forgotten it is also possible to argue against his own arguments.’” She closed the book with a gentle motion, but the snap of the cover echoed through the room like a warning.

Her eyes rose to the students but landed on you with surgical precision. A familiar heat climbed your neck, and you looked away, pretending to jot something in your notebook.

"Y/n," she called, and your heart nearly stopped. "What’s your interpretation of this passage?"

You lifted your eyes slowly, feeling the weight of her stare. Wanda tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into a smile that only you could decipher: provocation, curiosity, and something much deeper.

"Well..." you began, trying to keep your voice steady. "Maybe it’s about how people can rationalize even what they know is wrong. Justifying the unjustifiable. A kind of... psychological game, maybe."

She narrowed her eyes, clearly amused. "Interesting. But do you think it’s just a game? That there are no consequences for those who play it?"

The hidden meaning behind her words hit you like a blow. Your defiant gaze met hers, and a tense silence filled the room.

"That depends," you replied, holding her gaze. "Some games are worth the risk. As long as the players are willing to go all the way."

The students exchanged confused glances, feeling the weight in the air but unable to grasp the true reason.

Yelena, sitting two seats over, raised an exaggerated eyebrow, her eyes darting between you and Wanda as if trying to piece together a complicated puzzle. She leaned toward Bucky, who was on the other side, and whispered: “What the hell is she doing?”

Bucky bit the end of his pen, clearly trying not to laugh. “No idea, but... this is weird as hell.”

"Weird?" Yelena rolled her eyes. "This is a show. Don’t you feel it? It’s like watching a Russian soap opera, but without subtitles."

Bucky gave her a light slap on the arm, stifling a laugh. “Shut up; Bishop’s taking notes. She might sell the script later.”

Kate, sitting further back, looked at them with a mock-indignant expression. “I’m here trying to understand Dostoevsky, and you two are commentating like it’s halftime at a game?”

Yelena shrugged, gesturing toward the teacher. “Sorry, but Maximoff’s looking at Y/n like she’s about to eat her. How do you expect us to focus?”

You heard the whispers and felt your face heat even more, but you didn’t dare turn to face them. Instead, you focused on Wanda, who seemed perfectly unaware of the murmurs—or, more likely, ignored them because she was too busy teasing you.

Yelena crossed her arms, a mischievous grin forming on her lips. “This is gonna go south, Buck.”

Bucky snorted. “It’s already gone south. What’s left is how far.”

Wanda couldn’t deny it—you were a daring little brat. Too clever for your own good, confident in a way that made her skin prickle with irritation—and something darker, more visceral. It was like watching someone play a dangerous game without understanding the stakes. And yet, it drew her in, making her fingers itch with need.

"Interesting perspective, Y/n," Wanda said, her voice low, almost lazy, as she approached your desk. Each step seemed calculated, and the sound of her heels on the floor reverberated through the room like the tick of a countdown clock. She stopped beside you, close enough for you to feel her warmth, and tilted her head with an enigmatic smile. "But sometimes, it’s worth remembering that some players might not be as prepared as they think. Wouldn’t you agree?"

You lifted your eyes to her, meeting the gaze that seemed determined to unravel you completely. “Sometimes you just have to play to find out how far you can go,” you murmured, your voice firm, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed your vulnerability.

Wanda felt a wave of desire and frustration mingle. How dare you? Here, in front of everyone, with no fear. She wanted to smile, but the control she needed to exert was like a tight chain around her will. Her instincts screamed to put you in your place, to shatter that confidence that challenged her at every turn.

She stepped back with the same calculated calm, but inside, she felt the tension pulsing through every cell. Her fingers tingled with the desire to trace your jawline, to replace that defiant smile with something softer, more submissive.

The room seemed to hold its breath, every student frozen in the moment, unsure of what exactly was happening. But Wanda knew. And you knew. And, in that instant, she promised herself that the lesson she’d mentioned would be taught—intensely, memorably, and entirely on her terms.

Then, the shrill sound of the bell echoed through the room, and the students began to rise, packing their things as the buzz of conversation grew. You prepared to leave too, but before you could take more than two steps, Wanda passed by you, her intoxicating perfume filling the air.

She leaned in slightly, her lips almost brushing your ear, and murmured low but firm: “My office. Now.”

The commanding tone made your legs tremble, and you barely managed to gather your notebooks, each movement hesitant and clumsy. When you arrived at her office, the atmosphere felt stiflingly charged. The door barely closed behind you before Wanda turned and crossed the space with quick steps.

Without warning, her hands grabbed your arms, pulling you close, your back colliding with the wooden desk. The sound of objects shifting on impact seemed insignificant compared to the weight of the moment.

"How dare you?" Wanda whispered, her voice low yet brimming with authority and something more—something that made every cell in your body vibrate.

Her hands were firm and possessive against your body, exploring without hesitation, marking you with her heavy touch. Her eyes glowed with a hypnotic red, and you felt as though you were being pulled into an abyss.

You should have apologized, should have yielded, but instead, your hand reached up, cupping her face as you pulled her into an urgent and dominating kiss. Your lips collided as if the world were ending, as if time was too fleeting for hesitation.

Wanda responded with a low growl, her fingers gripping your waist tightly enough to leave marks. Her taste was intoxicating—a blend of control and desire that made your head spin. You felt like you were drowning in the red sea that was Wanda Maximoff, and there was nothing in the world you wanted more than to lose yourself completely in that ocean.

The room seemed to vibrate with the energy radiating from Wanda. Objects around you began to tremble, then levitate. Books, chairs, and even the desk started floating in the air, swirling in a chaotic vortex of pure power.

Wanda pushed you further against the desk as she herself seemed consumed by the intensity of her emotions. Her hand moved to encircle your neck, her fingers firm but calculated, as if she measured her strength precisely.

"You're such a naughty girl..." her voice was low, husky, almost a purr. "It drives me crazy to—"

Her sentence broke off, her breath ragged as her eyes burned a vivid red. The scarlet hue spread throughout the room, enveloping everything. You felt a wave of heat and power coursing through the space, making your skin tingle.

Her hands on your neck were firm, possessive, but far from cruel. The control Wanda maintained, even with her powers teetering on the edge of chaos, was overwhelmingly impressive. The pressure was just enough to make you feel small, vulnerable—exactly as she wanted.

"I should punish you for being so defiant," she continued, her voice dripping with desire and authority, her fingers tightening slightly as she tilted her head to watch you with hungry eyes. "You provoke me, and now... you should face the consequences, don't you think, little one?"

The chaos in the room intensified. Books flew open, pages ripping through the magical crimson wind, chairs spinning in the air, and the sound of furniture crashing against walls was muffled by the pounding of your heartbeat. It was mesmerizing—the woman before you truly powerful.

And you knew you should fear her.

But you weren't afraid. The heat rising through your body was more intense than anything else, an intoxicating blend of submission and excitement. You met Wanda's eyes, making it clear you didn't want to stop.

Her smile was predatory, satisfied, as she leaned in to claim your mouth again. The kiss was overwhelming, a reflection of the storm around you, and you lost yourself in it, lost in the red sea that was Wanda Maximoff.

You gasped when Wanda finally loosened her grip on your neck, but the red glow in her eyes still burned. Your mind was a mess, every part of your body pulsing in response to her touch. But you didn't want to surrender completely—not yet.

"Is that all you've got?" The words slipped out before you could think, your tone full of provocation. Your chest heaved, adrenaline mixed with desire coursing through every fiber of your being.

Her smile vanished for a moment, replaced by something far more dangerous. Her eyes narrowed as she pulled you even closer, your bodies practically pressed together. "You really want to play with fire, my little girl?"

"Maybe," you replied, feeling the heat rise to your face. "Or maybe I just think the Scarlet Witch isn't all she's cracked up to be."

Her reaction was instant. The red in the room exploded in intensity, and for a moment, it seemed like the very air vibrated. Her hands released your body, but only because she took a step back, her gaze fixed on you as if deciding what to do.

A whirlwind formed around your bodies, lifting you slightly off the ground.

"You have no idea who you're dealing with," she whispered, but there was something deeper in her voice, a tone that didn’t belong solely to Wanda.

That’s when you saw it. The red in her eyes intensified, her pupils consumed by the scarlet glow. Her posture shifted, her shoulders straighter, her head tilted in a way that exuded pure power.

"Oh, you wanted to play, didn't you?" Her voice was different, deeper, laden with an energy that made your knees tremble. "Now you have my full attention."

Your breath hitched as the Scarlet Witch stepped forward, her power so palpable it weighed down the air.

She raised a hand, and you were pulled closer without her needing to touch you. Her gaze was locked onto yours, both challenging and ravenous. "Now tell me, little rebel," she teased, her smile almost cruel. "Is this what you wanted? The real me?"

You swallowed hard but still found the strength to respond. "Maybe I just wanted to see how far you'd go."

Her laugh echoed through the room, low and dangerous, as the chaos around you intensified. "You have no idea, my dear. But I'll show you. Slowly. Until you can't take it anymore."

She extended a hand, the crimson glow dancing at her fingertips as the world around you seemed to vanish, leaving only you and her in the eye of a scarlet storm.

"I bet you were crazy for this too," Wanda murmured against your neck as she marked it with her teeth. "God— I can smell you from here."

Wanda's kiss was devastating, a collision of desire and possessiveness that left you utterly breathless. Your lips moved against hers with overwhelming intensity, as if the entire world had vanished, leaving only her. When you finally pulled apart, a thread of saliva, glistening and tinged crimson, connected you—a vivid reminder of the fervor you had shared.

You felt like you were in heaven, in a place no one had ever taken you before. Your heart pounded in your chest, your entire body trembling from a mix of excitement and shock. Wanda's hands roamed boldly over your body, leaving a trail of heat wherever they touched.

But then reality hit you like a cold wave. This wasn’t right. It wasn’t right with Vision, with her children, and not even with yourself.

“Wanda, wait," you murmured, your voice trembling as you grasped her wrist, halting her touch that was making your head spin.

It took her a moment to process your words, her red eyes still blazing with raw energy. Her primal instincts were on full display, and for a moment, it seemed as though she couldn’t hear anything beyond the call of her own hunger.

"What now?" she whispered, her voice hoarse, still dripping with desire.

"This... isn’t right," you stammered, your eyes filled with a mix of guilt and confusion. "Vision, the boys... you..."

Wanda blinked, as if your words had finally pierced through her haze. The red glow in her eyes gradually dimmed, the intensity giving way to something more human—something more painful.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath, pulling away from you, her hands still trembling. She ran a hand through her hair, messing it up as she tried to compose herself. "Shit, shit, shit."

The frustration in her voice was palpable, but there was also something else—a guilt buried deep, like a twisted knife in her chest.

"You promised you’d sort things out soon!" you burst out, your voice louder than you intended, but the frustration that had been building for days needed release. "I’m here, Wanda. I’m waiting for you. And in the meantime, I’m stuck in this limbo, not knowing what’s real or what you want from me!"

Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, the silence between you was heavy as lead. Then Wanda took a step back, her fists clenched, but her gaze still fixed on you.

"You think this is easy for me?" Her voice was low, almost a growl. "You think I don’t think about this every second? That I don’t want to throw everything away and just... take you away? Make you mine?"

You swallowed hard but didn’t back down. "Then why don’t you? Why keep playing with me like I’m just... another piece on your chessboard?"

Wanda laughed, but it was hollow, devoid of humor. "Because it’s not just about you and me, Y/n! Do you understand what’s at stake here? My life. My children. My reputation. Everything I’ve built could fall apart because of this."

"And what about me?!" you shot back, tears stinging your eyes, though you refused to let them fall. "Am I the only one who has to carry this alone? To deal with the guilt, the doubt, the desire? Because it feels like while you can have me and still keep everything intact, I only have you."

Wanda hesitated, and for the first time, you saw something like vulnerability in her eyes. But it was fleeting, replaced quickly by the fire you knew so well.

"You think I don’t feel the same?" she asked, stepping closer to you again, her voice softer but loaded with emotion. "You think I’m not drowning in this as much as you are?"

"Then why does it feel like I’m the only one losing control?" you murmured, your voice now shaky.

Wanda sighed, running a hand through her hair, as though trying to pull herself together but failing miserably. "Because I’m good at hiding it, Y/n. I had to learn. But you..." She stopped, her eyes scanning your face, your body. "You’re so young. So raw. Perfect to mold—" Her hands trembled with a deep excitement. "And that’s what destroys me. Because when I’m with you, I forget everything that’s supposed to matter. Everything that’s supposed to hold me back."

Her words tightened a knot in your chest, because they echoed a truth you couldn’t admit to yourself. "And now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wanda stepped even closer, her hands cupping your face with a gentleness that seemed at odds with the intensity you’d just shared. "Now, we drown together," she said, her eyes blazing again, but this time with something deeper, more sincere. "Because I’m not letting you go. And I know you won’t either."

You both remained silent for a long moment after your intense exchange of words. The weight of tension still hung heavily in the air, but now there was something different—an undeniable determination in her green eyes. She began pacing the room, clearly trying to organize her thoughts.

"I can’t keep doing this," she finally said, abruptly stopping and turning to face you.

You frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Wanting you close but having to hold back. Trying to keep up appearances while feeling like I’m going to explode every time I see you."

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you kept your tone cautious. "So, what are you thinking?"

A small smile curled her lips—not the warm smile you sometimes saw, but something more calculated, almost predatory. "I’ve had an idea, my sweet. And maybe it’ll be enough until I can sort things out."

Wanda stepped closer, leaning in as if to share a forbidden secret. "The boys need a private tutor. Someone to help them with the subjects they’re struggling with."

You blink, processing her words. "And you want me to... be that person?"

Her smile widened, as though she was pleased with how quickly you’d caught on. "Of course. This way, I can keep an eye on you without having to come up with excuses. Without needing to hide how much I want to be near you."

The idea made your head spin. "Wanda, that’s... complicated. Wouldn’t it seem strange? What about Vision?"

The smile faded for a moment, and her eyes glinted with something darker. "Vision is gone most of the time, busy with work. And as for complicated..." She moved even closer, her breath warm against your skin. "We’re already complicated, Y/n. This just makes things easier."

You felt your resistance melt under her intense gaze. "And the boys?"

"They’ll love you," she said, as though there was no doubt about it. "Besides, you’re smart, patient, and..." Her fingers slid down your arm, her eyes glowing with a mix of desire and adoration. "I trust no one else near them. Or near me."

It was a dangerous proposition—an invitation to dive even deeper into something that already felt impossible to escape. But the way she looked at you, as if the entire universe revolved around you, made it impossible to say no.

"Alright," you finally murmured, feeling as though you were crossing an invisible but definitive line. "I’ll do it."

The smile Wanda gave you was both triumphant and filled with something you couldn’t entirely identify. She reached up to caress your face, her fingers warm against your skin. "You made the right choice, darling. Trust me. I’ll take care of everything for us."

[...]

The Saturday morning dawned sunny, but inside Wanda's house, the atmosphere was a meticulously orchestrated chaos.

"Billy, Tommy, have you cleaned your rooms? I don't want anything out of place!" Wanda called from the kitchen while arranging a plate of freshly baked cookies on the table.

Billy sighed loudly from upstairs. "I already did, Mom! Why does she even need to see my room, anyway?"

Tommy appeared in the living room with a bored expression. "It's just a tutor, Mom. Chill."

Wanda stopped, looking at him with an intensity that made him take a step back. "She's more than that. I want you to make a good impression—no, a great one. Understood?"

The boys exchanged knowing glances but said nothing more. They knew arguing with their mother in this state was pointless.

But if she wasn’t just a tutor, then what was she?

Wanda adjusted the couch pillows for the tenth time and looked around. The house was spotless, the aroma of cookies filling the air. She took a deep breath, feeling the growing excitement in her chest. "Everything needs to be perfect," she murmured to herself.

And then, the doorbell rang.

When you stepped in, Wanda was at the door with a smile that seemed a little wider than usual, the gleam in her eyes betraying her excitement. Seeing you in her home, with her kids—your kids—made everything feel so right.

"Welcome, Y/n. It’s so good to see you."

You smiled shyly, holding a small backpack. "Thank you, professor. It’s a pleasure to be here."

Wanda gestured for you to come in. "Please, just Wanda here. Come, I want to introduce you to the boys."

Billy and Tommy were in the living room, sitting on the couch, clearly curious but trying to play it cool.

"Boys, this is Y/n, your new tutor. Y/n, these are my sons, Billy and Tommy."

You waved a little nervously. "Hi, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I hope we can have fun while learning."

Billy smiled shyly. "Hi."

Tommy was more straightforward. "My mom says you’re funny. Is that true?"

You chuckled softly, relaxing a bit. "Well, that depends on you. But I can try."

Tommy tilted his head, a glint of challenge already in his eyes. "Then show me what you’ve got."

You tilted your head, thinking for a moment before saying:

"Alright, here goes: Why did the book go to the hospital?"

Tommy frowned, confused. "Why?"

Billy, now curious, asked, "What happened to it?"

You gave a playful smile. "Because it broke its spine!"

Billy burst out laughing while Tommy tried to hold back but ended up laughing too, shaking his head.

"That was terrible!" Tommy said, but the grin on his face gave away that he enjoyed it.

"Terrible? I’d call it genius," you replied, crossing your arms with an air of mock superiority.

"Yeah. She’s kinda cool," Tommy muttered to Billy, who nodded in agreement.

You asked them to sit down and share which subjects they found most challenging. Billy and Tommy glanced at each other, as if sharing a secret no one else could understand. The silent connection between them was so palpable that you felt a pang of affection.

"History," they replied in unison, making you chuckle softly, fascinated by how synchronized they were, even in the smallest details.

The twins were captivating. Their eyes sparkled with intelligence and a lively energy that felt familiar, as if a piece of Wanda was in each of them, yet they were uniquely themselves. You couldn’t help but be charmed, feeling something warm bloom in your chest—a feeling you couldn’t quite name.

"History…" You held the word in the air for a moment, as if it had weight. "Can you be more specific? Art history? Greek history? Norse history? American history?" You offered the options playfully, but they didn’t seem very impressed.

"All of them," they replied without hesitation, their casual tone making you raise your eyebrows.

You narrowed your eyes, leaning slightly forward as if engaging in a silent duel. "Alright, gentlemen… Listen closely," you began, your voice taking on a solemn yet warm tone. "I’m going to make you love history. Or my name isn’t Y/n."

The defiant tone awakened something in the boys. Tommy crossed his arms with a mischievous grin, while Billy tried to maintain a serious expression but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Alright, Miss,” Tommy replied, his tone brimming with competitive enthusiasm. “We accept your challenge.”

Billy nodded, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Let’s see if you can do it.”

As you observed them, you realized that in just a few minutes, they had already tugged at your heartstrings. They weren’t just adorable; they were spirited, curious, and full of life. You smiled at them, feeling a connection growing—a quiet and unexpected bond, like their presence filled a space you hadn’t known was empty.

You picked up a book on Greek mythology and stood in front of the boys, holding it as if it were a secret treasure. “Ready to dive into tales of gods, monsters, and heroes?” you asked, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

Billy and Tommy nodded eagerly, their gazes fixed on you.

“It all begins at the dawn of time, when there was nothing but chaos,” you said, spreading your arms dramatically, as if summoning the void. “Then, suddenly, Gaia, the Earth, and Uranus, the Sky, were born. They had children... lots of children. But do you know what Uranus did?”

The boys shook their heads, curiosity piqued.

“He got scared of them! So, he locked them in Tartarus, the deepest, darkest place in the world.” You leaned closer, lowering your voice to build suspense. “But one of them, Cronus, wasn’t having it. He rebelled and became the king of the gods.”

“That’s so cool,” Tommy murmured, his eyes wide.

“Oh, but wait,” you said, raising a finger. “Cronus had a problem. A prophecy said one of his children would overthrow him. So, do you know what he did?”

“What?” Billy asked, completely engrossed.

“He… ate his own children!” you exclaimed, mimicking the gesture with your hands as if devouring something.

“Ew, gross!” Tommy said, wrinkling his nose but laughing at the same time.

“But,” you continued, lifting a finger theatrically, “their mother, Rhea, wasn’t about to let that happen. She hid the youngest, Zeus, and gave Cronus a rock wrapped in cloth instead. Cronus didn’t even notice!”

Billy burst out laughing. “What an idiot!”

“And then Zeus grew up, defeated Cronus, saved his siblings, and became the king of the gods. Which leads to a ton of other crazy stories... but this is just the beginning.”

At that moment, you noticed Wanda standing in the doorway, watching the scene with a nearly imperceptible smile on her lips.

“You’re impressing the boys,” she commented, her voice soft but full of something that made your heart skip a beat.

You shrugged, trying to hide your blush. “Well, with a story like that, it’s hard not to keep their attention, right?”

“It’s more than that,” Wanda replied, her eyes glinting with something you couldn’t quite decipher. “You have a special way with them. And with stories.”

“I like kids. And stories,” you whispered, just for her.

You turned back to the boys, smiling. “Alright, next question: Who thinks they’d have the guts to face a titan like Cronus?”

“Me!” Tommy immediately raised his hand.

“And me!” Billy chimed in excitedly.

You laughed, charmed by their energy. “Well, let’s see how you do in the next challenges!”

As you continued the story, you felt Wanda’s gaze still on you. It wasn’t just pride for the boys or appreciation for your teaching methods. It was something deeper, more complex—something as ancient and powerful as the myths you were recounting.

Wanda stood by the garden door, arms crossed, watching the scene with a mix of curiosity and disbelief. From a shaded spot near the garden, she observed the boys laughing and running around you, completely immersed in the recreation of the mythological battle. Their laughter filled the air, a melody that warmed something deep within her chest.

Her eyes drifted back to you. It wasn’t just the way the boys responded to your presence that fascinated her, but also the energy you exuded. There was a passion in your movements, a genuine joy that seemed to radiate and infect everything around you.

But at the same time, there was something more. The sparkle in your eyes when you spoke to the twins, the way you seemed so at ease, even in a new environment… It all made Wanda feel unsettled, as if she were witnessing something that belonged to her being contested.

Out in the garden, you set up an improvised scene. The hose and sprinkler were strategically positioned, ready to represent the turbulent sea that separated the gods from the Norse giants. In one hand, you held a bucket with diluted red paint—your version of mythological blood.

"Alright, warriors!" you said, placing your hands on your hips and addressing Billy and Tommy as if you were about to lead an army. "Today, we're going to reenact one of the greatest battles in Norse mythology: the fight between Thor and Jörmungandr, the World Serpent!"

Tommy blinked, intrigued. "Who’s Jörmun…gandr?" He struggled with the name, making you smile at his cuteness.

"It’s a giant serpent so big it wraps around the world and bites its own tail," you explained, moving your hands in a large circle. "And guess who fights it in the final battle?"

"Thor!" Billy exclaimed enthusiastically.

"Exactly!" you replied, pointing at him as if he’d just earned points. "And today, one of you will be Thor, and the other will be Jörmungandr!"

The two exchanged glances, already excited.

"I’m Thor!" Tommy shouted, lifting a garden spade like a hammer.

"Then I’m the serpent!" Billy declared, grabbing a hose and swinging it as if it were the tail of a giant reptile.

You began narrating, swirling the red paint as if creating a storm in the bucket. "The sea is raging! The sky fills with thunder as Thor approaches the monster!" You turned on the sprinkler, and the spray of water began soaking everyone, simulating the turbulent sea.

"I attack first!" Billy yelled, spraying water from the hose at Tommy.

"Thor doesn’t back down from danger!" you narrated as Tommy charged forward with his spade. "He raises his hammer and—"

"I hit the serpent’s head!" Tommy shouted, lightly striking the ground near Billy with his spade.

"But Jörmungandr doesn’t surrender easily!" you cried, pouring a bit of red paint on the ground around them to simulate spilled blood. "The serpent coils around the hero, trying to crush him!"

Billy began spinning around Tommy, holding the hose as if it were the serpent’s body.

Wanda appeared at the garden door, crossing her arms and observing the scene with a mix of curiosity and incredulity. She remained in the shade of a tree near the garden, where the boys laughed and ran around you, completely immersed in the mythological battle reenactment. The sound of their laughter filled the air, a melody that warmed something deep in her chest. She rarely saw them so happy, so at ease with anyone other than herself.

Her gaze shifted to you. It wasn’t just how the boys responded to your presence that fascinated her but the energy you radiated. There was passion in your gestures, a genuine joy that seemed to infect everything around you.

And then, she noticed.

The sprinkler’s water had soaked your clothes. Your white blouse clung to your skin, outlining the curves of your breasts. Your hardened nipples were visible through the thin fabric. A drop of water slid from your chin to your neck, tracing a slow path that disappeared beneath the wet cloth. Your hair, plastered to your face and shoulders, dripped and gleamed under the afternoon sun.

Wanda swallowed hard, trying to look away. But it was impossible. Something about the scene left her… unsettled. It wasn’t just the sight of your body; it was the way you laughed so freely, as if nothing else existed but that moment.

Wanda wanted... She wanted...

“Are you okay, Mom?” Billy asked, running over to her, still holding the hose.

Wanda quickly composed herself, putting on a smile. “Yes, sweetheart. I’m just enjoying the show.”

He grinned and ran back to the “battlefield,” where you were now pretending to be a Norse dragon attacking Thor.

Wanda sighed, crossing her arms. She needed to remember she was in control. But in that moment, watching you and the boys, she wasn’t so sure that was still true.

“You’re all soaked,” she commented, raising an eyebrow.

“And that’s half the fun!” you replied, laughing as more water sprayed around. “Besides, we’re recreating history. Isn’t it amazing?”

“If this is history, I want to learn more!” Billy shouted, laughing as he tried to escape Tommy.

“Thor wins the battle,” you announced dramatically, pointing at Tommy. “But the serpent’s venom is powerful. He takes one last step and… collapses!”

Tommy pretended to faint on the ground, laughing the entire time.

Wanda shook her head, but there was a smile on her face. “I never thought teaching mythology could be so... wet.”

You shrugged, still smiling. “That’s how you learn, Wanda—with fun and, apparently, a little chaos.”

“Just don’t forget, chaos is my specialty,” she replied, her smile turning a little more mischievous.

And for a moment, you felt like you were part of that small, unlikely family.

[...]

When you entered the house, the energy felt different. The boys' laughter still echoed in your ears, but something in the air had shifted. Wanda stood near the door, her eyes fixed on you with an intensity that was hard to ignore. She leaned slightly, her posture elegant, her gaze locked on you as if studying your every move.

“Boys,” she said firmly, “bath time.”

They groaned for a moment but quickly ran upstairs. Wanda remained there, watching them go before turning her attention back to you.

“You’re soaked. Do you want to change?” she asked, her voice soft but tinged with something you couldn’t quite identify.

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart race. “Yes, please.”

She gestured vaguely toward the hallway. “The bathroom is in my room. There’s a clean shirt in the drawer if you want to use it.”

A sudden nervousness swept over you. This wasn’t what you expected. Her bathroom? It made everything feel… personal. A palpable tension settled between the two of you.

“Thank you,” you murmured, trying to sound casual but feeling the heat rising to your face. You turned and began walking toward her bedroom, your heart pounding faster with each step.

Once inside the bathroom, you shut the door with a deep sigh. The sound of the shower water starting seemed amplified, as if every drop marked the rhythm of your nerves. Slowly, you undressed, the tension in your body increasing as you imagined Wanda outside, still watching you somehow.

The warm water couldn’t entirely wash away the unease gripping you. As you lathered up, your thoughts wandered to the possibilities. You knew Wanda was intense, but that simple gesture—offering her bathroom, her shirt—felt loaded with a significance you weren’t prepared to handle.

You hurried through your shower, trying to shake off the insecurities and focus on the moment. But when you stepped out, you felt even more anxious than before. Her shirt was far too big, the soft fabric clinging to your body in an uncomfortably intimate way. Every small movement, every breath seemed amplified in the quiet room.

You were alone, yet you didn’t feel truly alone. The sensation of being watched, even without Wanda there, lingered. Her aura seemed imprinted on the space, almost suffocating.

As you looked around the room, you noticed her meticulously made bed, the pristine white sheets that looked expensive. Your heart tightened at the thought that it wasn’t you sleeping beside her every night. On the right side of the bed—Wanda’s side, you assumed—there was a book on the nightstand. Curious, you picked it up. But the sound of the door opening startled you, and the book slipped from your hands.

“What did I say about snooping?” The redhead entered the room, crossing her arms beneath her chest, making them seem slightly fuller. There was a mix of irritation and amusement in her gaze.

You glanced at the book’s cover one last time before handing it to Wanda. “Jane Austen is a great writer. I like historical romance too.”

Wanda raised an eyebrow, taking the book from her hands with an expression that suggested she was evaluating her intentions. “‘I have many flaws, but not in understanding, I hope. As for my temper, I can’t guarantee it’s very good. I believe it’s a little too harsh for the world’s conveniences. I can’t forget the madness and vices of others as quickly as I should. Nor the offenses they make against me. My feelings don’t flare up with the slightest effort or attempt. My temperament could be called resentful. Once the good opinion I have of a person is lost, it’s lost forever.’”

You were impressed as she recited Darcy effortlessly. It was so quirky! She must have read it countless times.

A delighted smile formed on her lips. “‘This is truly a flaw,’” you began theatrically. “‘Relentless resentment is a trait that marks a character. You’ve chosen your flaw well. In fact, I can’t laugh at it. There’s no need to be afraid of me.’”

“‘I believe that in every temperament, there’s a tendency toward a particular form of evil, a natural vice that even the best education can’t extinguish.’” Wanda pressed her lips together, but there was a spark of amusement in her eyes. She suddenly laughed at your expression, which had become grumpy.

"And your flaw is a tendency to threaten to shoot red power balls at everyone, I imagine," you shot back, just as if you were talking about real life.

"Ah, and yours is irritating everyone with that sharp tongue of yours. I believe that applies perfectly here, by the end of the conversation."

You clicked your tongue before moving closer to her. "No... Darcy was a bit detestable at first. You're more like Katherine from The Taming of the Shrew." Your tone was mocking, but your voice had grown lower, almost intimate.

It’s funny how natural it is that your flirtations and jabs turned into shared literary tastes. Classics are always welcome at the worst of times, and just by Wanda’s deadly gaze, she certainly knows who Katherine is.

Wanda raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharp as a blade. "And I suppose you’re the stubborn beast of Petruchio, aren't you?"

You laughed, closing the distance between you. The heat radiating from her skin was intoxicating. "I don't usually cast myself as the male part of any story, but since you made the comparison... Katherine ends up tamed and married to Petruchio." Your insinuation made Wanda lick her lips, a visible attempt to contain her growing irritation.

"Are you implying you can tame me? As if I were some wild creature?" Wanda stepped forward, and you realized you were about to cross an important line.

You studied her face, every detail—the furrow between her brows, her clenched jaw. She was beautiful, furious, and captivating. Your heart raced, and the desire to kiss her became almost unbearable.

"Not a wild creature, but you can certainly be tamed." Your tone was full of provocation, but the intensity in your eyes betrayed something else.

The pressure in the room intensified, and Wanda’s control shattered. Her powers began to manifest; a faint red glow appeared in her eyes, and objects around you started to levitate slowly. The air grew heavier, charged with tension and raw magic.

"I’d kill you right now if I could," Wanda growled, her voice low and threatening, but her eyes gleamed with something deeper—a conflict between anger and desire.

The fuse. The pulse between your legs was about to drive you crazy. You smiled, a wicked grin full of desire.

"Well, lucky for you, you can't." With a swift movement, you pulled her neck, thrusting your tongue into her mouth. Wanda moaned against your lips, a sound that reverberated through you like an electric shock.

At first, she resisted. Her lips were tense, her body rigid. But then, control shattered completely. Wanda surrendered to the kiss with an almost desperate ferocity, her hands grabbing your hair, pulling you closer.

Objects around you continued to float, creating a chaotic spectacle in the room. But neither of you seemed to care. All that existed was the heat, the touch, the taste of each other.

She pulled you by the hair, seeing her from above—so powerful, it couldn’t be more exciting.

"You’re so unbearable..." She murmured, her lower lip trapped between her teeth.

"Oh, come on! You don’t know the reputation you have at the university?" You shot back, giving her a provocative smile. Wanda's eyes shone wild, and she yanked your hair again, pulling your neck along.

"Say it." She demanded, biting the curve of your ear.

"They say you like this." Your voice came out broken by the small bites Wanda was placing on your neck.

"Like what, dekta?" Her veiny hands caressed your body with lust, and it made your head spin.

"You—"

She interrupted you with a hard bite to your shoulder—it was clear she was taking out her anger on you.

"That I like little girls with a clever mouth? Who like to challenge me so I can break every last bit of their confidence?" The woman bit your breast, still covered by fabric. "Oh, darling. They couldn’t be more right."

And then, there, under Wanda’s command — you understood.

She did it all the time. She diminished you, devalued you on purpose. It didn’t matter how flawless your work was; Wanda always found a way to belittle it, to clip your wings before you could fly. Every sharp remark, every gaze that seemed to pierce through your soul, was carefully calculated to chip away at your confidence. She humiliated you, intimidated you…

And in some twisted way, it aroused you more than you cared to admit.

Never before had you been the object of such specific, visceral attention. It was wrong — you knew that. But the intensity in her gaze, the way she deliberately kept you under her control, stirred something deep within you.

It was a power game — cruel, immoral — yet irresistibly magnetic. And you couldn’t look away.

Wanda tugged harder on your hair, forcing your legs to give out from the pain. "Shh... Don’t fight, darling," she whispered against your lips. "Kneel. Know your place."

Your knees hit the floor, and all you could see was the victorious smile on her face.

"Right beneath me," she murmured. "With those doe-like, pleading eyes." She exhaled deeply, as if she’d been holding her breath for too long.

She stepped back, leaving you staring at the floor alone. The only sound was the soft tapping of her footsteps on the wooden floor and the lingering warmth of her power that filled the room.

When you lifted your head, determined to face her, the sight before you was nothing short of glorious — Wanda seated in a green armchair by the window overlooking the neighborhood. She looked majestic, glowing with a scarlet aura, making it impossible not to submit.

This wasn’t just Wanda Maximoff. This was The Scarlet Witch.

Your mouth went dry. Even without experience, you knew what you wanted — what you needed. But Wanda seemed to know more than you did, because her smug smile only made your core pulse with need. The rhythm of her crossed legs swaying ever so slightly seemed to call to you.

“Crawl.”

The witch’s harsh command struck you, and adrenaline surged through your veins, making you tremble. “Crawl to me, pet, and I’ll spare you.”

A witch like Wanda possessed countless abilities, infinite powers. Yet, as she watched you crawl toward her, Wanda understood the true meaning of power.

It was a feeling that transcended magic, surpassing the control she wielded over the world around her. It was deeper, more primal. The witch within her wanted to claim everything — her space, her pain, her vengeance. But most of all, she wanted to claim you.

When you stopped at her feet, Wanda tilted her head as if examining an unfinished masterpiece. Her hand slid to your face, her touch gentler than she had intended. Her fingers traced the curve of your jaw, trembling slightly when they reached your chin.

Her voice was low but commanding. There was no room for doubt. It wasn’t a request; it was a demand. Her eyes glowed intensely, the energy around her flickering like a halo of power.

She uncrossed her legs with an almost feline grace, letting her bare foot rest on the floor as she leaned back comfortably in the green chair. Every movement she made was imbued with natural sensuality, as if she was born to be worshipped.

“Let’s see if your instincts are as sharp as your tongue,” she teased, a slight smirk on her lips, fully aware you were ensnared in her spell.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest. Wanda seemed untouchable — like a goddess carved in marble. Strong, imposing, unreachable — and yet, all you wanted was to kneel before her.

Shame and desire blended together. You were desperate to please her, to be worthy of being at her feet.

“I’m waiting,” Wanda arched a brow, her tone impatient. “Or are you all talk? Prove you can do more than provoke.”

Your breath grew heavier as your knees touched the floor once more. Her words echoed like a commandment. Prove yourself. Show her you understand. That she is everything.

Your eyes locked on the delicate curve of her ankle, the bones shifting subtly beneath her pale skin. Her foot was perfect, every detail made to be adored.

Your mouth went dry, but the primal desire rising within you overwhelmed everything else.

Slowly, you tilted your head, never breaking eye contact with Wanda. The world seemed to stop. Nothing else mattered except this moment, the connection between the two of you.

“Good girl,” Wanda’s voice came as a rare praise, sending a shiver down your spine.

You didn’t know if she was using magic or if it was simply the power she had over you, but you felt as though you were under a spell. Every movement you made was guided by an ancient instinct — a desire to worship, to surrender completely.

Your lips brushed against the top of her foot, and Wanda let out a satisfied sigh. The tension in the air shifted, replaced by something more intimate. More profound.

“Keep going.”

You obeyed without hesitation, tracing kisses along the arch of her foot. Your trembling fingers barely dared to touch her. Wanda was more than human. She was pure power, and you felt every particle of it.

Wanda’s eyes closed for a brief moment, her lips parting in a silent sigh. When she looked back at you, there was something softer in her gaze. Admiration? Satisfaction? Perhaps even… affection.

“See how easy that is?” Her voice remained firm, but there was a tenderness hidden within her words. “My little pet knows exactly where she belongs, doesn’t she?”

You nodded, never breaking eye contact.

“Say it.”

Your voice trembled, but it carried truth. “At your feet.”

Wanda’s smile widened, not with arrogance, but with contentment.

“Good girl.”

Then she leaned down just enough to capture your mouth in a bruising kiss, drawing a moan of satisfaction from both of you.

“Mommy should give you your reward now, shouldn’t she?”

Then there was that damned M word that made your belly contract. You squirmed at how hard it was for you to hold back, so you sought some relief in the friction of your own thighs.

Wanda opened herself to you like a flower, and at that moment you discovered that the older woman was not wearing panties, making her bittersweet scent rise to you, making your salivate.

“Do you want it, pet?” She asked, lifting her hips a little so you could see better and you felt like you might faint.

“Please, please…” You found yourself in an endless loop of begging, which made Wanda smile as she panted in lust.

“Such a good girl… She learned so quickly to beg for mommy’s pussy.” She stroked your chin, so gently that you rubbed against her hand like a cat seeking affection from its owner.

“Come, pet. Take it all.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Giving a big lick with the base of your tongue just to taste it, you hear her take a deep breath, relaxing into the upholstery. Her scent suffocating you and making your eyes roll back.

Letting out a ragged sigh as her warm, soft tongue licked your most intimate juncture, flooding Wanda's senses with intense pleasure. Wanda grips your hair between her fingers, forcing you to look at her.

"Eyes on me, baby girl."

She grinds her hips up involuntarily, seeking more of that skillful, soapy attention. You continue with small kitten licks, leaving Wanda a little trembling with anticipation on top of you. When you move your tongue in large, lazy circles, Wanda moans—encouraging you to push your mouth even further against her pussy.

"Ugh, yes… just like that…"

For Wanda, this was just the beginning. The sordid things she would do to you… Your stupid, naughty little girl mind could not even imagine. The excitement isn't just in the act. In fact, it never was. Everything she imagined since she laid eyes on you. Everything. It was already underway.

Your little face between her legs only proves it.

“Fuck, you're good… so good for your mommy.”

Wanda's moans leave you senseless, her praises blur your mind and you feel like you need a lot more of this. Your mouth moves away from the woman's clit to leave small wet kisses on her thigh.

The witch's eyes glow red with a fierce and predatory glow, the hunger burning stronger than ever.

“Don't tease me, stupid little slut…” Wanda says through gritted teeth, making you moan at the insult. “Get back to work and show me what a talented little pussy-sucker you can be…”

A feral growl rumbles in your chest, her teasing… leaving you with a wild desire to be good for her, to please her more than anything.

“Now, suck my clit like the eager little slut I know you are…”

You can only obey the witch’s request. Pushing your mouth even further against her pussy, it’s when you scrape your teeth against the woman’s clit that you hear her howl—pain and pleasure. A raw, guttural scream leaves Wanda’s throat as you tease her sensitive, swollen bud with just the right amount of pressure and force.

“Uuuunghhhh, God…!” She grinds her hips against your insistent mouth, seeking more of the sharp, exquisite sensation.

“Don’t stop, don’t you dare stop, fuck! I’m going to kill you!” Her fingers fist in your hair, tugging mercilessly as she rides your tongue with wild abandon.

The scarlet red all over the room, the incandescent, magical glow boiling on your skin. “You’re going to make me cum, naughty girl, just like that… Mommy’s little young slut is going to make her cum… Right there, yes!” The witch’s back arches off the chair, her entire being centered on the intense, violent pleasure radiating from her core.

You feel everything around you literally spin. Glancing out of the corner of your eye, you see the bed floating across the room, hitting the ceiling—it’s mind-boggling.

“OH FUCK, OH FUCK, FUCK, DO IT, PET!”

The words dissolve into raw, wild sounds as her climax overtakes her, waves of ecstasy crashing over her in a relentless torrent.

You feel the older woman’s legs tremble above you. Your ego soaring, you don’t even notice the woman’s still red eyes above you. As your orgasm subsides, Wanda notices your awestruck gaze, still transfixed by the spectral, crimson display of the displaced objects.

“Yeah, kind of like that…” She smiles teasingly, watching your lips wet with her pleasure.

Wanda pulls you by the back of your neck, clashing your lips in a fight that she would clearly win.

"Mommy isn't done with you yet, honey…" she murmurs like a solemn promise.

"Mommy…" You say softly, still mesmerized by her and still kneeling.

Something about how you say it makes Wanda savor the word. "Say it again." She commands, looking into your eyes.

"Mommy." You repeat, now more confident.

The older woman hums in approval and gets up from the chair, her legs still a little shaky from the recent orgasm.

She throws you on top of her king-size bed and walks over to you with superhuman eyes.

"Mommy is dying to take what is rightfully hers."

She climbs on top of you, taking off the blouse that covers you and making obscene movements on top of your jeans.

"Nobody touched here, did they, honey? You didn't let anyone touch that tight pussy, did you?"

You gasped and denied it vehemently. The words coming out of the woman's mouth were making you dumb.

"No… I'm a virgin."

You say and feel the woman's wicked smile on the curve of your neck.

"Of course you are. You're made for me… such a good girl waiting for me."

The woman's lips traveled the length of your neck, giving you goosebumps. Wanda's hands trembled with restraint as she stared at your soft skin, the delicate folds and tempting curves yet to be savored. With a deft movement, she undoes your shorts, dragging the jeans down your thighs while her gaze remains fixed on the flesh that awaits her.

"Mommy will use all your holes until you become a perfect, dumb whore for her," she said with her nails digging into your waist, leaving half-moon marks. "You're perfect…" in her eyes there was adoration for you and nothing else.

The words left Wanda’s mouth in a reverent whisper, almost as if they were a secret reserved only for you. Her eyes glowed, but not with the power you knew so well—not with that menacing red glow. No. Now, they were a deep, warm sea, filled with adoration.

The way she looked at you, even with you beneath her, made your heart race and your skin tingle. There was nothing but devotion in her gaze, as if you were the most precious thing she had ever touched.

Her fingers, strong and steady, slid over your body with care and possession, as if she were committing every curve of yours to memory. You let out a needy moan, unable to contain the wave of desire her words stirred within you. There was something intoxicating about being so vulnerable, so surrendered, and yet somehow feeling in control.

“Look at me,” Wanda murmured, her voice low but full of command. Your eyes didn’t waver for a second. You obeyed, lifting your gaze to meet hers. And there it was—the intensity was almost overwhelming, a kind of fervor that made her legs tremble. There was something so raw about that moment, as if she were seeing into the most hidden parts of his soul and yet choosing to love each and every one of them.

“You have no idea…” Wanda continued, her lips brushing his skin, her breath hot against his neck. “How you make me feel. Powerful. Invincible.”

Even in her submissive position, something in you blossomed under that gaze. Her power felt like an embrace, firm and unshakable, but never cruel. You were exposed, defenseless, but you had never felt so protected.

“You will learn to crave my touch, my presence, as deeply as I crave you. Your perfect, submissive little body belongs to me now. I will mold you, transform you into the most obedient, desperate slut imaginable… and you will beg for the chance to serve me.”

Wanda’s lips brushed the shell of your ear, her hot breath sending shivers down your spine. Each whispered word carried a weight that made your body tremble, not from fear, but from pure anticipation.

“You will be the best toy a witch like me has ever had…” Her voice was a mix of desire and threat, like poisoned honey that you couldn’t resist. “And I will never let you go.”

Her tone was possessive, each syllable carefully loaded with intent. Wanda’s hands slid down your ribs, her fingers pressing lightly against your skin as if she were marking her territory.

“I’m going to tease you until you beg for release,” she continued, her tongue lightly brushing your earlobe, making an involuntary moan escape your lips. “And even then… maybe I won’t give you what you want. Maybe I’ll just stay here…” She slid her lips to your neck, where she placed a hot, slow kiss. “Watching you writhe, completely at my mercy.”

Your breathing quickened, and you felt the muscles in your body tighten. Her heat was almost overwhelming, and the way she spoke—so confident, so in control—made your mind spin with a mix of anxiety and excitement.

“Then I’m going to tie you up, blindfold you,” she murmured, her teeth scraping lightly against your skin. “And leave you waiting. With no idea what I’m going to do next. Every second a delicious torture… until you learn there’s no escape.” That you are mine, completely.”

Your heart was pounding, your head spinning with the intensity of her words. Her hands slowly moved up his back, firm and possessive, as she planted another kiss on your shoulder. “You like that, don’t you?” Wanda asked, her voice a dark melody. “You like knowing that even when I’m cruel, it’s still for you. That everything I do is so you’ll never forget… who you belong to.”

You bit your lip, instinctively moistening it. Your head fell back slightly, your eyes half-closed as you tried to form words, but nothing coherent came out.

“Answer me, dekta,” Wanda ordered softly, her hand now cupping your chin so you looked her straight in the eye. “Or I might have to teach you what happens when little girls disobey their mommies.”

Wanda’s tone was seductive and cruel, the veiled threat in her voice as intoxicating as the firmness with which she held your face. You felt a deep shiver run down your spine, each word like an electric current that lit up every nerve in your body.

Your body trembled, not from fear, but from an anticipation so overwhelming that you could barely breathe. Your heart pounded, your mind flooded with a mixture of shame and desire. Her power over you was absolute, and in that moment, everything in you screamed for submission.

“Mommy…” you murmured, the word slipping out almost without thinking, your voice shaky and choked by the tension Wanda was creating around you.

Your eyes were glazed over, as if you were in a trance, completely at the mercy of that overwhelming presence.

Wanda smiled, an arrogant, cruel smile, but undeniably beautiful. She tilted her head, her eyes shining with something that seemed like pure satisfaction.

“Look at you,” she said softly, but the firmness in her voice made every muscle in your body tense in response. “You can’t even think, can you, my little whore?”

Your body trembled in anticipation, her every word like an invisible rope tightening around you. You knew Wanda was dangerous, but at that moment, the only thing you could think about was how much you wanted to find out how far she was willing to go.

The throbbing between your legs was mind-blowing, you needed to relieve yourself urgently. But before you could rub yourself against your own thighs, Wanda stopped you.

“You’re already so wet, you filthy girl. Can’t resist the thrill of pleasing Mommy, can you?” she purrs, her free hand sliding down to cup the juncture between your thighs, rubbing in firm, possessive circles. She places her knee against your pussy, causing a delicious, excruciating pressure. “I bet you can come like this. Rubbing yourself against my knee like a bitch in heat, can’t you?”

You respond with a long moan, your tongue lolling out, the intense pressure and tantalizing sensation of her knee against your hypersensitive folds making you whimper and buck in helpless need, your own hips instinctively moving to grind against the unyielding obstruction.

“That’s it, dirty slut… Let Mommy see how much you want to come. Rub yourself against my leg like the desperate little slut you are.”

“Want to come like this?” She asks, making you whimper. Thinking about anything was too difficult. Maybe you should let her take control of everything. "I asked you a question!"

You gasp when you feel the woman slap your left cheek. "Wanda, I want… more!" You manage to finish with difficulty.

"Who?" She asks, forcing her knee deeper into your entrance, making you cry out.

"Mommy!" You correct yourself, humming in approval.

"There's my good girl." She praises you, "What do you want, darling?" Wanda makes circular movements with her tongue on your nipples, hard as rocks. "My mouth. My fingers. My cock." Hearing her, you whimper.

"Oh. Fuck…" You gasp loudly.

"Greedy little girl… You want all of these, don't you?"

As if summoned by Wanda's wicked touch and piercing gaze, your fantasies take on a life of their own, your mind feverish with desire. You need it all—every hungry bite, every deep, devastating thrust, every stroke of a masterful hand across your skin.

The sheer intensity of your need consumes you, leaving nothing but desperation, longing, pleading in its wake. “Yes, Mommy,” you finally confess in a breathless whisper, “I need it all. I need you in every way imaginable.” With a low, triumphant growl, Wanda surges forward, her skilled fingers delving between those slick, panting thighs once more.

She teases and claws at you, building the pressure to a fever pitch even as her lips and tongue continue their relentless assault on your sensitive peaks.

“Such a greedy little sex toy,” the older woman murmurs against the quivering flesh, her voice a husky, wicked caress. “Ready to take it all like the perfect slut you were born to be.”

Upon reaching your pussy, Wanda sucks on your outer lips—extracting the sweet honey. The woman’s expert tongue swirls over your clit, making you gasp. You tense and writhe under Wanda’s relentless assault, the wicked witch’s tongue teasing, tasting, claiming every last drop of your offering.

Your soaked, throbbing folds pulse in rhythm with each skillful, searching stroke, the desperate need building to a fever pitch within your core.

“Oh, shit, oh shit, oh fuck—” Your voice cracks, a harsh, pleading moan that reflects the wild, aching desire coursing through your veins. You grind shamelessly against Wanda’s mouth, lost in the overwhelming tsunami of sensation, the relentless drive for release.

“Please, Wanda. I need you—I want you—” you choke in pleasure, feeling yourself teetering on the edge of the abyss of pleasure.

With a naughty giggle, Wanda replaces her mouth with her fingers, alternating between your clit and your hot entrance. “You’re so close already, aren’t you? All that stimulation Mommy gave you was too much, wasn’t it?” She said, as she rested her chin on top of your mons venus—watching you with burning eyes.

“…So close, please! I feel so good. So good to you, I—” The tears in the corners of your eyes indicate how strong an orgasm you will have.

With a sly smile, Wanda responds, her expert fingers curling and stroking that sensitive, throbbing bundle of nerves in deliberate, unyielding circles.

“Come for me, pet,” she purrs darkly against the quivering flesh, “Give me all that sweet, dripping honey. Show Mommy how well-trained a little sex toy like you can be…” The cruel, relentless pleasure builds and builds until your mind goes blank.

As your orgasm hits, you feel a sharp pain between your legs—and for some reason, the mixture of mild pain and intense pleasure increases the throbbing in your belly even more.

“Fuuuck me!!!” The raw, primal sound of ecstasy as your sensitive, tingling flesh shudders and contracts around the older woman’s hand. Your hips buck violently, lost in the tormenting ecstasy of surrender, of release.

In the stormy haze of your climax, a fleeting agony sparks through the velvety softness of your sex—a burning, stinging sensation that for just a moment eclipses the thunderous ecstasy. Yet in the next heartbeat, the exquisite wave of pleasure returns, even more intense, taking you even higher. You were going to come again, and Wanda knew it.

“Yeahhhhh… So tight, my stupid whore,” Wanda’s voice is a seductive growl, a dark promise in every word. "Like this. Take it all, let me have it all…" Her fingers move faster, hitting the spongy spot inside you.

"Are you going to cum again?" the wicked witch asked, thrusting harder. "Are you going to cum with Mommy's little finger in you? Are you going to make a mess of your Mommy's bed?"

"YESSSSS!!!! OH FUUUUUCKKKKKK Mommy, Mommy! "I'M GONNA-C--" Your screams are abruptly cut off as a new burst of intense, shuddering ecstasy rips through your very being.

In that fleeting instant of total surrender, your senses blur into a sea of ​​sensations - the stinging, relentless pleasure, the dark, possessive hunger in Wanda's eyes, the intimate, slippery thrill of possession. Every nerve ending, every synapse is alight with the desire to be filled, to be used, to be claimed… to surrender completely to the relentless, insatiable desire that has ensnared you.

With your breathing quickened and your body trembling, you couldn't speak or move—all you could do was cry and let out all the emotion pent up in your chest.

Wanda noticed the tears rolling down your face before you did. At first, an expression of concern formed in her eyes, replaced by a deep affection that softened you completely. With surprising care, considering the intensity she had shown minutes before, she leaned over you, her fingers still black with power—shakingly wiping away the salty drops that ran down your cheeks.

"Hey, dekta…" her voice was low, sweet, almost a melody. "Are you okay? Talk to me."

You tried to open your mouth, but no sound came out. Still, Wanda seemed to understand. She lay down next to you, wrapping you in her arms with a warmth that was not only physical, but almost magical. Her fingers traced soft patterns on your skin as she whispered words of comfort.

"Shh… it's okay. I'm here. It was all too much for you, wasn't it, pretty girl?"

She ran her hand through your hair, her eyes fixed on you with a kind of reverence that seemed almost sacred. There was no rush, just a constant care and tenderness that seemed to embrace all the broken pieces you didn't even know you carried.

“You’re so precious to me,” Wanda murmured, more to herself than to you. “I would face armies for you. Ask for anything, and I’ll give it to you, my little one.” The witch kissed the top of your head, feeling her own heart swell with something she couldn’t quite name.

Your chest tightened at her words, and a soft sob escaped your lips as a sense of safety unlike anything you’d ever known washed over you. She leaned down to press a slow, deliberate kiss to your forehead, as though wanting to carve the moment into her memory.

“You don’t need to understand it now, but what I feel for you… it’s greater than anything I’ve ever known.” Her eyes gleamed with something that danced between love and possessiveness, though it didn’t make her any less careful or tender.

She pulled the blanket over both of you, wrapping you tighter against her. “Cry as much as you need, my girl. I’m here. I will always be here.”

That moment was more than comfort; it was a vow. A silent promise that Wanda seemed determined to keep, no matter the cost.

Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch, was pure, raw power—a storm incarnate, capable of reshaping the very fabric of reality with a simple gesture. In battle, she was wild, relentless, a hurricane of might no one dared to defy. But with you… it was different.

You were the key to a side of her she never believed could exist—a side that longed for more than destruction and control. A side that wanted to feel and be felt, to be seen and understood. You were the doorway to her own humanity, a part of herself she’d almost forgotten was there.

There was something about you that dismantled all her carefully constructed defenses, disarming her in a way no external force ever could. And it infuriated her. It terrified her. But it also made her crave you with a primal, almost desperate intensity.

She was hard, unyielding—always would be. But with you, she’d discovered what it meant to be vulnerable. Your touch, your gaze, your unwavering trust in her were like a key turning in the rusted gears of a hardened heart.

As she held your face between her hands, still trembling from the ecstasy only she could give you, Wanda realized that no matter how brutal or wild she was, you were the only being in the universe capable of turning her into something more than chaos and destruction.

And that made her want to protect you more than anything else. To shield you from pain, from the world, even from herself—but never to let you go. Because, in the end, you weren’t just the key to who Wanda could be.

You were her destiny, as certain as the power burning through her veins. And she would never let another life, another universe, tear you apart again.

Even with your eyes closed, you felt Wanda’s every word like the notes of an ancient melody, echoing inside you. Her moans, rough and filled with intensity—still playing in a loop in your mind—were more than sounds; they were verses of a visceral poem that seemed to envelop and consume you slowly.

Every sigh carried a secret. Every whisper felt like a hidden promise. And every sound that escaped her lips was a spell, binding you deeper into an abyss where pleasure and devotion intertwined.

It was as if Wanda was composing something eternal—a song only the two of you could hear and understand. And you? You were the sheet music, the instrument, the meaning behind every line and verse.

In that instant, lost between her words and the overwhelming intensity of the moment, you realized you had surrendered more than just your body.

Your soul, with all its scars and longings, had been written by Wanda. And her words—sweet, fierce, and insatiable—would be etched into you as the most beautiful, cruel poetry you’d ever know.

~*~

and yes, it was too much for you.

Tag list <3

@vyvvycg @rosekjsses @3liyuh @trindad2k

@indentity0018 @beggingonmykneesforher

@idkwhatever580

@reginassecretlover @trying-to-do-good

@imjustvibingsworld @mbxoxo @jazzyxqzl @eternallyconfuzed @ctrlaltedits @sheriffhaughtearp

@lesbiansweet @i-luv-w1men @htinha157 @syssmin @wandasslut3000 @fuzzygiantlamphorse @imaginaryblogger01

[sixdegreesofbali]

I never said he posted pictures of P. I said she's appeared on his insta. Wether it's a picture or a video doesn't matter. And no, I don't think they run every post by Max. What I do think is that they've made an agreement on what kind of content they can post (family pictures included). If Max didn't want Kelly or P on that account do you really think he wouldn't have said something about it? He's essentially the boss. And tbh, it's none of your, or anyone else's, business what kind of content Max, Kelly or his business accounts decide to post.

I also really don't understand what you're trying to say about the Kelly pictures and them not using pictures from his mom and sister's insta. Is this one of those 'Kelly runs every Max account' theories or?

Did I forget about Crane's joke? What joke? I've heard a million jokes on the Redline stream. I guess there's some outrage over one of the jokes? Sorry, but I don't care. I take their remarks for what they are: banter. And if on the endless hours of streams they made one remark that people don't agree with, who cares? Everyone will say something stupid at some point if you put a mic on them for hours and hours over a period of years. I really can't be bothered with that.

Take the streams for what they are: a bit of extra entertainment that we should be lucky to have and like I said, that no other F1 fanbase gets to have. And if people start getting outraged over jokes on a regular basis and start complaining about everything then I'm sure we won't have those streams in the future (which is something Crane mentioned as well when people started getting outraged over the livery during the charity race).

Team Redline's broadcast is getting harder and harder to watch. They love to brag about the number of views and subscribers, but they don't treat this audience well. They: team redline and verstappen.com (instagram and TikTok), should reformulate strategies,have poor engagement because they don't know how to create a bond with the public.

Verstappen com Instagram looks like his girlfriend's page (they shouldn't post photos of Penelope on that page), because they keep posting repeated photos from Kelly's Instagram. And don't post Max's nephews using their products, but they do post pictures of him with Penelope (something he doesn't do on his profile)

small rant, I just wish it was better managed so that all Max fans could have more interaction

[littlelonelytree]

Vox: I'm sooo turned on

Alastor:

Alastor: Then turn off

[astarlightmonbebe]

i'm only at the beginning of li tongguang's descent into obsession (eps 17-18), but already it's both hurting and hitting. hurting, because we know li tongguang's capabilities, and his level headedness, and the potential he has, that he seems to throw out due to this obsession. hitting, because when you think about it, the obsession storyline and characterization does make perfect sense. obsession like that is a double edged blade, which can turn from love to hate, childish belief and joy to embittered rage in a second.

on one hand, it's painful to watch ltg's childlike desperation when faced with ruyi again. we want to grit our teeth and think of him as idiotic, unable to take a hint. but the reality is that it's a completely normal response to be expected from him. i mean, it's a dream come true, to see the person you 'love' the most in the world to be whole in front of you. it's probably what he could only dream about, especially being the one to apparently find her bones and bury them.

on a deeper level, ltg's initial reaction is very much a manifestation of his inner child, almost peter pan-like in the 'child that never became an adult/grew up' way. by that i mean to say the desperate urge to please, the constant worrying, and the oscillation between hot and cold moods are all so indicative of someone who grew up in an insecure/unstable environment, usually with volatile or simply unavailable authority figures. from what we can gather, he had no father, his mother wasn't in his life ("she doesn't want him around, nor can she bear for him to be away, so that's why he's like that" per empress zhaojie's words to ruyi). the one authority figure that entered his life to offer some semblance of guidance was ruyi, and even though it's clear that she held care for him, she was also a twenty year old assassin used to training subordinates, not children. her mentorship style is clearly so different when you hold ltg and yang ying side by side, and we know from ruyi's own mouth that she doesn't consider herself to have taught ltg well, and wants to remedy that through/with yang ying (i'll probably make a whole different post comparing this and the affects of this after watching some more episodes lol - there are bullet points in the drafts). so even though ruyi was his authority figure, she was still an emotionally unavailable one who couldn't meet ltg on the level he probably needed at that time in his life, and which no one probably ever did. hence his up and down reaction and actions.

it intrigues me, too, because i think, in a very subtle way, ltg is very much a character foil to ruyi in that he reflects some of her worst attributes, or more accurately represents the sort of person she was, or at least acted like (yuan lu's comment about how ltg has ruyi's gaze was meaningful outside of the jealousy arc - to me at least). i saw someone make a really interesting comment on how ltg's devotion to ruyi parallels ruyi's own devotion to empress zhaojie, which i'll also probably comment on more later.

obviously, ltg's obsession stems from an issue much larger than ruyi herself - she just happens to be the unfortunate target of it. and, clearly, i know his descent into it will be ugly, if understandable. i understand ruyi wanting to leave that part of her life behind, but also - to think that maybe many of the issues faced in future eps could have been avoidable if she'd been upfront with li tongguang about her identity early on.

[ratislatis]

idk why it’s just coming to me now but I remember feeling this cold, white catharsis upon realizing that it wasn’t Freddie’s decision to give Glenn that panic attack. It was Anthony’s. And the way he said it, so finite, “Glenn is having a panic attack.” in a tone that was used before only to set up a disastrous scene.

It hurt, a lot, because in the weirdest way possible that’s exactly what having a panic attack is like. You’re sitting there with your world crashing down around you and then a disembodied narrator suddenly says, “This bitch shutting down.” (Distinctly in a Stanley Parable manner.)

[svtskneecaps]

thank you for bearing with my purgatory posting and i'm also glad to see i'm not the only one who still has this fungus eating away at my brain matter. seeing other purgatory posting in the tag makes me feel better lmfao.

i'm not done btw, posting will (probably) continue as i revisit vods. wanted to extend a thanks in the interim, since i know how contentious the event was in the moment. i kinda thought the general consensus was most people hated thinking about it, but there's been a weird amount of engagement and yknow other people talking. makes me happy to know i'm not alone here!

[lizeon]

oh cool thanks twitter

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC "Pick Me Up"

The stream goes live on the first day of the school year. It's the usual song and dance - mad laughing, threats, poor jokes, terror, and about thirty kids huddled together in a classroom behind Joker's back. Tim recognizes it as one of the Gotham Academy classrooms. Dick can't imagine the horror those kids' parents must be feeling right now. Jason jokes about middle school traumatic experiences. Damian is feeling very justified for skipping classes today.

Bruce, all suited up in his Batman garb, is making his way to the Academy as fast as he possibly can. Those are kids.

Gotham is once again anxiously kept on the edge of their seats, watching as Joker decides to interview the kids on their learning experience so far. Something about leaving a good first impression on the new generation or some other bullshit. Most kids stutter over their words - it's true that Gothamites are way more composed when facing life-threatening events, but those kids are only fourteen or fifteen for the most part. They are not old enough to keep their cool in the face of a murder clown.

That is, until Joker points his camera at one of the girls. Black hair in a high ponytail, blue eyes without a trace of fear, a slightly displeased, even bored expression on her face. She looks straight into the camera, not even waiting for the laughing madman to finish his question, and deadpans:

"I don't think I like school. Pick me up, please."

Joker sputters.

"Not so scared, I see," he sneers, and, in the next moment, a comically large gun painted in purples and greens is pointed to the girl's forehead, "How about now?"

The girl scrunches her nose and makes a so-so gesture.

"It's kinda meh," she admits, "Like, yeah, points for style, but you know, size doesn't matter. It's all in the technique."

Dick snorts over the comms. It's a bad time for laughing, sure, but the phrase caught him off-guard. This is not what you'd expect to hear from a teen, and definitely not something you'd expect anyone to say to the Joker. Jason's comms are muted, but Barbara knows he also laughed a little.

"Technique, you say?" Joker hisses, pressing the gun closer to the girl's head, and she winces, leaning away from it, almost as if she is disgusted by the touch.

"Yeah, I mean, guns are not that scary anyway. What are you gonna do with them, blast my brains all over the floor? Been there, done that," the girl shrugs, "Kinda nasty, but overall, it's just like slime, only sticky." She pauses and looks to the side, seemingly lost in thought, "Huh, maybe we should have added Borax to it. Or was it baking soda?.."

"Listen here, you little brat," Joker's fingers catch the girl's chin, and his voice becomes sickeningly menacing. Bruce is almost there, just two more minutes. Tim is already grappling onto the wall.

But none of them get to finish.

"Put your dirty fingers away from my sister," a low, cold, and even in a way that speaks of barely contained fury, voice comes from out of the screen.

The camera spins, like whoever is holding it turned really fast, and everyone watching the stream sees a fairly normal guy standing by the window - a turtleneck and ripped jeans, same black hair as the girl, same blue eyes... Wait, they are not blue.

And that's not a guy.

The camera falls down to the floor, and there are a lot of panicked screams coming from the broadcast now, but none of them sound like children's voices. It's the screams of adults, of grown-ass men, and later, someone even claimed they heard Joker's scream among them, too. The picture on camera glitches a few times, and the angle is awkward, but everyone still gets to see how shadows in the room morph into eyes, wide open and green, and how the darkness grows sharp teeth, countless grinning mouths that don't belong to any faces.

Screams turn into gargling and then to quiet whispers, filling the ears of all those listening with countless words in languages they don't know.

Red Robin turns off the recording and looks to that same guy from the levestream, sitting across him on the couch. The guy - Daniel, or Danny, as he introduced himself - looks him in the eyes and raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, and?"

"How did you do it?" Tim asks for the third time this evening. Danny blinks.

"Did what?" He asks, completely incomprehending. Tim groans. He's been trying to get his answers, any answers at this point, from the guy for thirty fucking minutes already. So far, he's got nothing. Danny, whoever the fuck he is, proves to be the most annoying human being on Earth.

"Seven people in a coma, including Joker himself, with no physical injuries and none of the children remember a thing! How?!" He demands, and a girl's face peeks from around the corner:

"I remember!"

Tim snaps his head at her, "What do you remember?"

The girl pauses, blinks, and looks to Danny. Then shrugs, "My brother picked me up from school."

Tim drops his head down and breathes out in frustration. He can't force the information out of civilians, he is a vigilante, not a mafia.

"Would it make you feel better if I promise not to do it again?" Danny asks, and his voice is way too innocent for Tim to believe him. He raises his head to look the guy in his shameless, amused eyes.

"I hate you."

"Thanks," Danny grins.

[koushirouizumi]

Jin: Request ME: Brave Heart? ({IN MIND} JIN DO YOU KNOW IT JIN ITS OK IF YOU DONT KNOW IT IM JUST WONDERING J I N-) JIN, READING THE COMMENT LITERALLY RIGHT ABOVE MINE: "POP VIRUS"?!???!

[femmeroll]

okay i fear i enjoyed writing about older!sevika too much so here’s more i guess!

sevika x fem reader

cw: fluff and a tiny bit of smut, age gap, modern setting, sexting, sevika is old bless her heart

older!sevika is so bad at technology it’s insane. she’s gen x, okay! she didn’t grow up with it like you did! it takes her forever to figure out apple carplay in her truck. once she does she plays the playlist you made her every time she drives.

she has no profile picture on spotify and her username is ‘Sevika123456’. you’re her only follower.

older!sevika gets so awkward when you take pictures of her. she’ll turn her head away or cover her face whenever you get your phone out.

“baby, no pictures please. i don’t wanna be on your snapchats or whatever.”

“it’s just for my camera roll, sev, relax. smile for me, handsome. so cute!”

older!sevika has a framed picture of you two in her office at work. (thank you to my friend who said modern sev would be a psychologist bc im obsessed)

one of her clients asks about ‘the girl in the picture’ after a session. she goes twenty minutes overtime gushing about you to her client who literally doesn’t care at all.

older!sevika still has cable and refuses to get rid of it. CNN is the default channel of her tv. she doesn’t understand paying for a million streaming services even though she pays for like…so many channels that she doesn’t even watch.

“look, sweetie. i recorded all the episodes of your favorite show for you. can netflix do that?”

“yes, sevika. netflix absolutely does that.”

older!sevika doesn’t understand any of your niche internet references. if you’re hopelessly chronically online like me, you are constantly quoting the most random shit.

she tried on a suit for some event for you once. you looked at her and said “who is the diva?” and poor sevi was so confused :( she has no idea what all that means.

older!sevika has a piece of masking tape over her laptop camera because she’s convinced that the government is watching her.

when she gets an add for something online that she was talking about the day before, she’ll immediately tell you that the government heard her.

older!sevika freaks out when you start sexting her randomly. she’s hella confused at first but sorta gets it after a while.

‘i’m touching myself thinking about u sev :/ i miss ur body so much’

‘Wow! 🔥🤤 I will be home soon.’

‘were the emojis really necessary’

in conclusion older!sevika has my fuckin heart🤍 i’m so in love with her it’s insane

[simpjaes]

Untitled - p.js | p.sh

requested by anon: In which Jay and Sunghoon share a fleshlight. if you like the idea of two hot guys being into you and into each other, this is for u. 

pairing: sunghoon x jay x fleshlight

wc: 1.3k 

warnings/tags: jay is very desperate, bisexual behavior, masturbating, sunghoon jerks jay off. this is very much homoerotic. 

A/N: if you don’t want to read about dude’s being into each other then don’t read it. None of this is real. No, i don’t actually think these members are into each other or dating. Use ur imagination, have some fucking fun. 

What started as Sunghoon’s fleshlight ended as the community fuckhole. And by community, he means himself and, well, Jay. 

It’s funny, really, how Jay never used to want to hang out until Sunghoon started fucking around with you. Then again, Jay is very aware of Sunghoon’s sex life and how open he is to sharing it. He heard that one time he even let Heeseung join him during a hook up. Another time Jake swears he got to give Sunghoon’s last fuck buddy backshots while he got to fuck her mouth. 

All of Sunghoon’s friends. All of them but Jay, apparently.

Now, has Jay ever actually participated in group activities like that? No. Does Jay even have that much experience with a girl? No. But he knows how to fuck his fist real good, and apparently Sunghoon’s pocket pussy too. 

It really wasn’t meant to go this far, Jay admits. When he came over to Sunghoon’s place and the dude was too busy actually studying, he spotted a certain item right there on the fucking coffee table in the living room.

“Make yourself at home, as usual.” Sunghoon had said to him upon arriving.

And that’s just what Jay did. What’s Sunghoon’s is his, and so was that fucking pocket pussy sitting there staring at him as he tried to flip through various streaming apps. 

It sat there for an hour, two hours…two hours and three minutes before he grabbed it. He didn’t care if it was dirty, didn’t care who or what used it before him, and didn’t question even for a second that Sunghoon would catch him with his legs wide open, fucking up into it right there on his living room couch.

Well, he should have questioned it. Because Sunghoon did take a break from studying. Mostly because he heard the squelching of wet silicone and Jay trying to hold his breath only to choke back each little sound even louder. The walls are thin in Sunghoon’s apartment, Jay knows this. 

“Clean that when you’re done.” Sunghoon had rolled his eyes as he walked by towards his kitchen “And at least turn on some porn or something dude, I can’t focus listening to you try and act like you’re not in here fucking my stuff.”

Jay was already gone by that point, fumbling with the remote until it ultimately falls on the floor with an unpleasant sound. 

Sunghoon had rolled his eyes again, casually strolling into his living room with a snack and taking a quick glance at Jay. The way he stretches that thing out is…interesting. Then, he does his friend a solid and turns on his favorite video as of late. A good ol’ two men one girl, raunchy, dirty ass video. And then he walks away, back to his bedroom and goes right back to studying. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The second, third, fourth, and fifth time Jay came over to fuck Sunghoon’s toy involved much of the same. Where Sunghoon would find reasons to walk into the room and put on a video he gets off to, just to see if Jay likes it. By that last fifth time, Sunghoon actually took it upon himself to put a video up where he stars in it with his last fuckbuddy. 

He could tell Jay enjoyed himself, unknowing that it was his own best friend fucking into that pussy on screen. His face wasn’t in it, but he can imagine if it was, Jay wouldn’t have stopped.

Things are never awkward either. Even with Jay sitting on the couch still out of breath, standing up to diligently clean the toy for Sunghoon as he comes to sit next to him. It’s all bro talk after that, as if nothing ever happened. Every. Single. Time.

What Jay doesn’t know is that Sunghoon is very much into it. To the point he uses the toy himself immediately after his friend leaves if no fuck buddy is available. To the point he doesn’t clean his own toy just because he knows Jay will come back again and fuck himself against whatever mess he leaves for him. 

What Jay also doesn’t know is that, now, as he sits on the couch as if it’s routine, even though Sunghoon’s finals are over, he’s gonna have to keep that confidence up to use the toy because this is Sunghoon’s apartment, and this is his living room, his tv, his porn, and his pocket pussy.

Jay doesn’t seem awkward though, no. It’s like he’s gotten used to this room being where he gets off because when he walks in, he’s already hard. Sunghoon is quiet when he watches his friend walk straight to the living room and grab the toy. 

He’s silent when he follows after him, feeling a twitch in his own pants.

He’s silent when he sits down on the other end of the couch, grabbing the remote and immediately playing a video that does show his face, with his most recent fuck buddy. You.

Jay’s eyes stare at the screen before glancing to Sunghoon.

“No way.” He says in a breath, unbuttoning his pants and instantly pulling it out. “When did you take this one?”

Sunghoon glances over, realizing Jay may very well have known about the last video being him as well. A pleasant surprise. 

“Last weekend, after you left.” Sunghoon admits. 

Jay seems out of it now, eyes focused on the screen and reacting in small grunts each time Sunghoon does something rough and solid to you. He’s wanted you so bad for so long. Is this what Jake and Heeseung went through to finally be invited into the bedroom? Fuck, he doesn’t care.

It’s almost surprising how quick Jay is with his hips as Sunghoon notes the way he moves. No embarrassment from having eyes on him, no longer quiet, and certainly not super experienced. But damn does he have a cock so thick that Sunghoon is sure you’d have fun with both of them.

“Want me to call her?” Sunghoon smirks, casually groping himself and pressing down. Holding back his own groan. 

“Right now?” Jay doesn’t even turn to look at him, he’s hyper-fixated on the video, ears ringing, unknowing of how loud that pocket pussy is each time he fucks into it. 

“Yeah, you want her?” Sunghoon continues, encouraging him. “Bet she’d feel a lot tighter considering how you’ve basically fucked that toy to death by now.” 

All Jay can do is throw his head back, halting his movements to keep from cumming at the thought alone before groaning out a “Yes, fuck, please. call her.”

Sunghoon laughs, scooting closer and grabbing the toy. Essentially taking over for him. Not letting him stop.

“Can’t.” He chuckles. “She’s out of town–” He continues, moving the toy faster, faster, faster until Jay’s practically gripping the couch under him and whining. “She bounces fast though.” 

Sunghoon moves even faster. 

“Hard.” 

He squeezes the base of the pocket pussy, offering more pressure.

“Likes when you cum in her too.” He whispers now, right up against him. “You wouldn’t last a second inside of her.” 

And, well. Jay cums right then and there. 

He’d normally pull away but his vision goes blurry through the orgasm, thinking too hard about how you’d feel bouncing on him, to the point it’s almost like Sunghoon didn’t even exist. Did he cling to Sunghoon through it because of that? 

….Maybe.

Sunghoon is satisfied though, seeing how his friend comes undone by his hand alone all in the name of you. Now, it’s his turn and he takes it as quickly as he gave it to Jay.

He pops the toy up and off of his friend, barely glancing at the way Jay’s cock leaks, throbs, and falls right against his shirt before he’s pulling his own cock out and sliding it down instantly.

Pre lubed, warm, perfect.

All Jay can do at that moment is fight to keep his eyes on the screen. He remembers briefly Jake saying at one point, “I don’t know what it is about Sunghoon bro but…he can be really sexy and i don’t even like dudes.”

The good news: Jay likes dudes. Sunghoon is a dude. And he’s got a hot fuck buddy.

“Can I fuck her too?” Jay finally whispers out, his voice croaking as he tries to level his voice. 

“Yeah.” Sunghoon groans. “Bet she'd love that.”