#try american snacks

[ghouljams]

I was just stalking your fae au and was reading the moose-creature-mimic posts, and I saw you mention that witch can feel when the mimic is trying to break her wards.

Whenever I hear about Fae, my mind immediately goes to the magic system from one of my favourite book series in which people who make wards have to develop wards for specific creatures, and if a creature that they haven’t warded against tries to enter, they can break through, if not break the rest of the wards.

Let’s say for a moment that something like that happens in the Fae AU, where some kind of unfamiliar creature from a foreign civilization comes a knocking on witches doorstep, and is able to break through her wards.

What do you think would happen? If Witch is connected to them, would Witch ‘break’ too? How would Price react to the pure panic and pain shooting through the tethers as an unfamiliar creature breaks through his darling’s wards?

I feel like she would be absolutely broken afterwards (if she survives that is-) Her wards are her safe space, she had never had that happen, she didn’t know what happened.

Would price still trust her to be safe in her own home?

Would SHE still trust her to be safe in her own home??

Just some thoughts 🫣

Oooooooooh. Ok yeah I can do some horror with this. Love the concept. So the Canon answer is that warding in this magic system can be as broad or as narrow as the caster wants. Wards can be weak and they can be broken, but it isn't going to harm the caster, maybe it'll give then a bad feeling but not any actual harm. Not a very good ward if it harms the wrong target IMHO.

For the Witch's home these are wards that are basically generations of people enforcing and reinforcing an all purpose boundary. It's an iron wall that nothing(save humans) is getting through without a permit, and it's tied to Witch both through her magic and her blood. She can feel when things mess with it, but it's like getting asmr, it isn't actually affecting her. She's mentioned before that her wards are threats, so anything that isn't stopped by a simple denial of entry is going to have those threats enacted upon it.

But let's say something broke her wards, let's throw some rocks through the windows and bust shit up. I am going on record to say, this isnt canon:

You feel something crack in the air before you feel it break. The splintering spiderweb of intangible bonds being pushed too far hits you between the ribs and you have to clutch the kitchen counter to stay standing. Something is deeply, desperately, wrong. You don't know how or why(or what) but something is working very hard to get in to your space.

It shouldn't be possible in the first place, you have known this house, these wards, your whole life and you've never felt it give way. You've felt it change, felt it ripple, felt it pop and fizz when it doesn't like what you've let in, but never this. Never the creaking pressure of it bowing inwards and splitting under its own tension. Your fingers wrap tight around your athame as you go to check your back garden, peaking through the curtains. There's nothing.

But you can feel it, you can feel it splintering like a pain in your chest. Tight and radiating out from your sternum. It tingles down your arm, makes your grip feel looser than you know it is. You grab your back door's handle, take a few breathes to give yourself strength, and open it to shoo away whatever is pressing your wards. And very suddenly the splinters give way, like a hole punched through a window.

It feels like all the air has been forced out of your lungs. A cool breeze blows through your door, wrong so very, very, wrong. The smell of moss invades your nose, burdened with the scent of decay. Slime mold oozing against your desperate breaths. You tug your shirt to cover your nose and mouth as the battering ram that had been beating your barrier steps through.

The horns of it scrape your ceiling, actually that bothers you more than it should, you're the one that has to fix it later. Velvet hangs from its antlers, freshly scraped and red, gory and divine. It stands on two clover hooves, and looks at you with malice. If you can even discern an expression from the thing. It's face is completely smooth save for its eyes, or it was smooth. A crack forms along the bottom of its smooth surface, splintering and chipping as it rips its mouth open and screams at you.

The sound is overpowering, dizzying, you feel your ears pop and then the noise is gone, replaced by a persistent dull ringing. You truly wonder when your life got so interesting. You hate interesting. You blame Price.

You cough, gag. You have to drop your makeshift mask to retch against the stench of rotten decay on this thing. It smells like death, weeks old bodies left to fester where no one will find them. You gag again, fingers curling around your throat as you try to keep you athame raised.

Your wards are silent, you home is silent, and you realize that you've never actually experienced true silence. Something is always buzzing or humming with magic, you always have music playing or bottles clinking, you're always surrounded by sound. Now it's all stopped. Even the ringing in your ears has settled into a cottony muffle. You can't feel any of your magic. Your numbed to it.

You drop your hand from your throat to your chest. You can't even feel the tethers there. Your fingers move over the fabric of your shirt without catching, there's not tightness to pull, not warmth to catch. You feel cavernous, empty past empty. What the fuck is that thing.

Whatever it is it seems to have finished its evaluation of you. Finished working whatever spell it was weaving. It takes a step towards you. You don't wait for it to take another before running. Scrambling away from the broken seal of the door towards whatever is heavy and throw-able.

You do your best not to let blind panic take over, to not just run wherever feels safe. You've always thought it was silly when people in horror movies don't do the smart thing, but you've never been in a horror movie before. You bolt towards your bedroom. It's the best guarded room in the house. Even if you can't feel your magic it should still be there. Right?

You feel the swip of the things claws through the air as it tries to grab you. You run straight past your front door without a second thought, sure you don't want whatever that is to be unleashed on the general public. It's claws dig deep gouges into the plaster of your wall, and you pray it doesn't do the same to your bedroom door. You know it will, but it can't hurt to pray. You're not in the mood to be picky with magic right now.

You get your bedroom door closed just in time to hear it splinter as the creature throws itself against it. You don't bother with chalk, digging your athame into the door and scratching sigils and circles as quickly as you can. When you tap them they sit absolutely dead. You smack your hand against your messy circle, willing the magic to respond. You smack it again as the creature throws itself against your door. The circle stays as it was, motionless, silent, still as a drawing.

You are suddenly much more comfortable allowing panic to overtake you. If you're powerless there's really no reason to keep your emotions in check. Your breath heaves, short and quick as you back away from your door and look towards your window. No magic swirls, no books rip themselves from your shelves, your panic heightens and nothing happens. How mundane.

One of the creatures claws punches a hole through the center of your circle, then another, and another. You back towards your window as it grips the wood of the door and attempts to pull it from its hinges. Your fingers push at your window, try to find the seams of it, try to get it open. It doesn't budge, it feels like it's been painted on. You bang your fist against the glass without so much as a crack. The wood behind you splinters. The crunch of it deafening over the silence.

"Price, Price, fuck I am not fucking around Price please," You beg pressing yourself back against the window as the creature drops pieces of the door onto your floor. Even if your magic doesn't work his still must. You've never hear of a fae not responding to their name. Granted you don't know the full thing, you don't know if that's really his name and not just a nickname. It might hold no power without the tethers between you. That doesn't stop you from saying it like a prayer, hoping if you speak him into existence enough times he might come and save you.

Your shoulders are grabbed by an invisible force as you are physically shaken. Your ribs shake, muscles tensed too tight to even take a breath.

There is a wet ache spreading over your stomach, you begin to tilt your head down to see what's wrong and Price catches you. His hand holds the back of your head, pulls it back up and shoves it against his shoulder. "Don't look," he tells you just as quickly as he'd stopped you. You nod against his shoulder.

He pulls something from you, rips the proverbial bandaid off, and you bite him at the pain. It feels like your heart has been knocked out of place, like your ribs have been played as a xylophone. Your stomach twists on itself. Suddenly you are back in your kitchen staring at the cabinets, the space where the creatures antlers had scraped the ceiling. The scratches are still there.

Then the shaking starts. Every muscle in your body starting to unspool in a violent shudder that must quake the very earth you stand on. It's loud. The house is so loud. The wards are practically screaming at you, you threshold wails and sobs where it has been brutalized. Your back door is still swung open to red and orange leaves, a lovely autumn day that leaks the smell of wet earth into your home. Price turns to follow your shaking gaze and kicks the door shut behind him.

"What-" You can't get anything more out around the aftershocks of panic. You're sure your house must look like a war zone.

"Probably some American invention," Price mumbles, "You weren't under long, deep breaths."

You suck in a breath, press your know into his shirt to smell the cool tobacco. It helps. Price keeps a firm grip on the back of your head, keeps you looking where he wants you to while his other hand does something. He touches you in a way you can't explain. It's almost metaphysical the way he zips you up, just on the right side of freezing. You can almost feel his fingers moving muscle and viscera out of the way as he does whatever he's doing. Fixing whatever just happened.

"Fucking hell your wards shredded that thing, surprised it even had the strength to touch you," There's something at the edge of Price's voice, fear your think. You're not sure what he's scared of, it isn't a comforting sound.

"How're you-" You try to focus on the important questions, like why Price hasn't been shredded.

"You lit up like a damn Christmas tree, thought I was gonna have my own attack with the panic you shot my way," He draws his hand away from your stomach, apparently finished with his fussing, "wards were too busy to notice me slip in."

Makes sense, even now they're too busy with repairs to pay attention to your regular.

"It broke my door," It's funny what you latch onto once shock starts to set in. "What did it want?"

"Same thing we all want," Price tells you, and you hate hearing him say it(we), because he doesn't mean it kindly, "you."

[majorpepperidge]

One could claim many reasons for why Canada is a good place to live. Healthcare, slightly-less-on-fire-politically than the US, etc etc.

For me, it's easy access to Jaffacakes

[meraus]

Don’t believe the American lies. I just tried airheads and hersheys and they’re absolutely vile with the worst after taste. About to try poptarts next, pray for me 🙏

[daughterofhecata]

The reading for next week's American Studies seminar is on papers and thesis statements and all that jazz, which is very helpful and I wish we had this for other classes as well, but unfortunately, it's also boring and my brain really does not want to engage with it today.

[dollsome-does-tumblr]

hahahaha, every time i’m at the grocery store i’m like “i’m gonna buy these terra sweet potato chips so i can have some chips that aren’t tortilla chips!” and every time i actually eat them i’m plunged into deep despair over how mediocre-to-gross they are.

[iamthescalesofjustice]

im always so disappointed by the way things jump from the hunter encounter to jon being back in london. i think it could really do with at least a supplemental where hes in a waffle house at 4am narrating into his tape recorder how the serial killers gave him a ride to the nearest town that has both phone signal and a greyhound terminal so he could book a new bus ticket to get himself back to somewhere he could actually catch a flight from. 

[themidnightcrimson]

skirt ࿏ wm

summary: in which wanda gets a little too handsy during a small party.

words: 4.5k

warnings: top!wanda, fingering (r receiving), semi-public sex, severely gay ogling, reader being a fuckin simp

this fic is for 18+ only. minors dni.

masterlist.

Steve had unfortunately complained to Tony that the parties he always held in his huge, modern, techno mansion were not intimate enough. Tony, always ready to take complaints from Steve with a cheeky attitude, passed the message along to Pepper who decided to truly make something cozier for everyone.

Tony’s parties were pretty much bi-weekly at this point, every other Friday night. The team almost always showed up in entirety, and the regularity of it was becoming sentimental to some of you. Even Tony was starting to plan them: “You guys gotta try this whiskey. I’ll bring it next Friday” or “I swear, Cap, I’m gonna put you in a suit on Friday and shoot you up to Mars.” It was cute.

Tonight, instead of drinking and playing poker around Tony’s in-house bar room, Pepper had set up something beautiful outside. You’d arrived at the party with Nat, stepping through the back patio of Tony’ mansion and seeing something set up in his backyard. Tied between two trees was a large white screen, and several yards in front of it was a projector mounted onto the roof of the patio, pointed right towards the screen.

In front of the screen, on the lush, freshly-trimmed grass yard, was a whole bunch of pillowy chairs with blankets cast over them, set up like little cots. To the side of the arena was a little hot dog stand that also had a big red and golden popcorn machine currently popping popcorn attached to its hip, as well as a large futuristic-looking cooler full of ice and bottled drinks. There was even an attachment on the front of the hot dog stand with an array of candy bars.

Strung above the entire arena were strings of fairy lights going in every direction, tied between trees and the railing of the patio porch. The sun hadn’t quite set yet, but they were already turned on, providing cute little lights above the cozy scene. It was the homiest thing you’d ever seen at Tony’s home.

“My god,” Nat remarked as she looked around, looking as shocked as you. “It looks like Tony’s planning on proposing to all of us at the same time tonight.”

“I would say yes,” Banner said, coming up beside you and gawking up at the lights. He ran down the steps of the patio and towards one of the fluffy chairs made of pillow, throwing himself down on it and squishing it to the ground. You could hear his sigh of comfort from the patio.

“Do you guys like it?” Pepper asked, coming out of the house. “There’s more food and snacks inside if you guys want anything that’s not out there.”

“I feel like I’m experiencing my first American sleepover,” Nat said, turning to Pepper. “It’s great, really!”

It was cute seeing Nat get so excited like that. Steve showed up behind Pepper and had the same reaction as everyone else, even tearing up a little bit. When Tony reluctantly entered the patio, Steve gave him a slap on the shoulder. “This is really great, Tony. Really great.”

Tony tightly smiled and quickly went back into the house to avoid any more sentiment.

Since the few of you were the first to arrive, you all stayed on the porch and made conversation while waiting for everyone else to show up. It was a chilly spring night, the wind picking up and every once in a while catching the black skirt you were wearing. It was that annoying time of year, of course, where you would have been sweating during the day but now you were shivering at night. You wished you had worn pants instead of a skirt. You didn’t know you’d be thanking yourself later for the opposite.

You had been discreetly waiting for someone the entire time. As more people lingered through the back door into the backyard, you nervously glanced at each figure and hoped it’d be the one you wanted it to be, but it never was.

And then you knew. You didn’t see her, or hear her name, or any other evidence that she was there other than the fact that the pit in your stomach grew and there was a tingling sensation across your nerve endings. The witch always had that affect on you. You didn’t know if it was a spell or something, or maybe you were just acting like a crush-stricken schoolgirl, but you had a habit of always knowing when Wanda entered a room.

Surely enough, through the tinted windows lining the back porch, you could see a flash of red hair making its way towards the back door, that smile you had memorized greeting people as she stepped between them. A shiver crawled its way up your lower spine as the door opened and that face stepped through, the one you’ve been dreaming about, the one that haunts you, the one that twists your stomach into knots when you see it because it makes you think of all the times you’ve touched yourself with that face in mind.

Wanda stepped onto the porch, her hair in wavy locks down her shoulders. She was wearing a soft, light pink sweater that probably looked like off-white to everyone else in the dusk light, but you paid enough attention to know it was pink. It matched the gentle pink in her cheeks, and in her lips…

You and Wanda’s…”situation” was only just blossoming. After months and months of tense friendship and subtle flirting, you’d finally broken the ice when you’d shared a drunken makeout session at one of the parties. You found Wanda to be much bolder than you’d expected her to be, but it invigorated you so. She knew how to keep you on the edge but give you enough to keep you satisfied. She hadn’t fucked you yet, though she’s gotten close. You’ve felt her mouth, and her thigh, but she hadn’t touched you with her hands yet. Her hands.

It was embarrassing when Nat had to snap you out of it. You’d been staring at Wanda since she’d entered the backyard space and got caught up in a conversation with someone else on her way to greet you. You weren’t even sure if she’d seen you yet, but with how sly the witch was, you were sure she was fully aware of everything.

“Hey, you’ve got a little drool there,” Nat said, motioning to her own chin while looking at yours. You blushed and rolled your eyes, taking a deep breath and turning your back on Wanda. Even though she still hadn’t looked at you, you swore you could feel her eyes burning into your back.

“Shut up,” you whispered, crossing your arms and shivering slightly in the cold.

Like clockwork, you suddenly felt a warm arm wrap itself around your shoulders. God, you even recognized her touch now.

Looking up, you saw Wanda appear beside you, her arm slung over your shoulder and pulling you into her gently. You felt the softness of her sweater and her hair against your arm as you were overcome with her cologne. It was sweet but deep, and it made you melt every time you smelled it because it reminded you of all your moments with her.

Wanda smiled down at you, and you half-expected her to lean down for a kiss, but she didn’t. You weren’t public yet, though Nat knew the extent of it, and everyone else had just assumed. They all thought that if you weren’t fucking, it was at least obvious that Wanda wanted to, and no one would dare get in the way of that. This was all without your knowledge, of course, because you were innocent and naïve and thought that no one had any clue about it except for Nat. That was one thing that Wanda liked about you.

“Hey there,” Wanda smoothly said in almost a whisper. Every time you get close to her for the first time, you feel like you’re seeing her for the first time all over again. Her sparkling green eyes, soft lips turned in a self-assured smile, structured cheekbones, her cute little nose. It all made you swoon like a schoolgirl.

“Hi,” you squeaked, feeling your face get hot all over.

Wanda gave a breathy chuckle, obviously picking up on your little squeak. She gave a little space between you for a moment to let her eyes rake down over your figure. They landed at your hips, and her smile faded, turning almost crooked for a moment before she licked her lips and pursed them. “Hmmmm,” she hummed, pulling you into her again, a little tighter now. “You look so fucking good,” she hissed, leaning down towards your ear. You felt her breath fan against your ear, and then her lips grazed it, before she turned away, stiffening as if trying to hold something in. You watched her jaw flex, the muscles straining in her swan neck as she inhaled deeply.

You weren’t sure what exactly was going through the witch’s mind, but your body was burning all over. It almost pained you how you always had such a physical reaction to Wanda.

Wanda did not let go of you. Even as she lingered around the patio, even as people came up and made conversation, she kept you under her arm like her own pet bunny. You felt safe like that, tucked into Wanda, letting her lead the conversations while you just leaned against her soft sweater and inhaled her sweet perfume. The duality of Wanda’s gentle physique but domineering nature made your head dizzy.

Wanda was like a bee to honey to you for the entire time that you and everyone else waited for the party’s population to be dense enough to start a movie on the large projector screen. Finally, once the sun had set and only left an orange streak at the bottom of the sky, Tony came back out onto the patio and, fully equipped in his suit, stuck his hands out to the side and levitated up towards the projector. Halting mid-air, the face of the suit flipped away to reveal Tony’s face.

“Greetings and welcome to the lamest party Tony Stark has ever thrown,” Tony announced, earning several laughs throughout the small crowd of people before flipping the projector on and flying away.

Light illuminated onto the screen, and an old black-and-white Hollywood movie began playing on the screen. People made their way over to the little cots set out on the lawn, while some stayed on the patio pretending to be the adult part of the crowd.

“Want some snacks?” Wanda whispered in your ear, to which you gave a dumb nod, too focused on the way her hand slid down to your waist and gripped it.

Wanda led you over the little hot dog stand that shone like a beacon in the darkening lawn, apart from the light from the movie. You were about to tell Wanda that you wanted popcorn and Skittles, but she somehow beat you to it. “A bag of popcorn and some Skittles,” she told the guy behind the stand. Nodding, he began to load up a bag of buttery popcorn as you looked up at Wanda in confusion to how she knew what you wanted.

Mind-reading can be useful in many ways, kitten.

You thought Wanda had spoken, since you had heard her voice, but her lips didn’t even move and her voice sounded like it was behind you. Your eyes widened in realization that Wanda was using mind-reading on you for the first time—though it actually was about the hundredth time that she’d pried in on your cerebral. It was the telepathic communication that was happening for the first time, but she thought your confusion on the terms was cute.

“Thanks,” Wanda told the guy as he handed you the warm bag of popcorn. She took a bag of Skittles and two bottles of soda and placed her hand on your lower back, her warm palm ushering you towards a cot in front of the screen.

She decided to choose one a little off to the side, spaced out more from any others. It was a double, basically a large pillow in the shape of a chair that could hold two people.

“This is so fun!” you exclaimed, hopping down on the cot and sighing at how soft it was, understanding now why Banner was so relaxed when he had jumped onto one. There was even a little basket beside the chair that held a large, fluffy blanket folded up. Pepper had truly gone all out.

Wanda plopped down beside you, her warm body instantly melting into yours as her weight into the pillowy chair dipped you down closer to her. The redistribution of weight had moved you in a way that your skirt hiked up your legs.

Wanda’s eyes flickered to your skirt, her pupils swarming. You blushed and pulled your skirt down to cover yourself, discreetly watching Wanda blink and force herself to look away. She leaned back in the chair, snaking her arm behind you and curling it around your waist, which only deepened the blush on your cheeks.

Reaching towards your lap, Wanda took a piece of popcorn from the bag you held between your legs and popped it into her mouth. You took a piece and moved it towards your mouth, but suddenly her hand stopped you.

“Nuh uh,” she said quietly, taking the popcorn from between your fingers. “Let me do it.”

You froze, staring at her face that was so close. It was illuminated by the projection on the screen, her green eyes darker than usual.

“Open your mouth,” she whispered, her eyes flickering down to your lips. There was a hunger in her eyes as she watched you hesitate before slowly opening your lips, your heart beating twice faster in your chest. Wanda brought the popcorn to your mouth, letting your tongue take it. You were surprised when, as you felt the texture of the popcorn on your tongue and the butter flooded your taste buds, the tips of Wanda’s fingers lingered in your mouth. As you attempted to close your lips, they only closed around her fingers, tasting the extra salt left behind on them. Your face grew red and hot as you watched Wanda smirk, pushing her fingers in just a miniscule bit further, her own lips parting in infatuation as she watched your lips suction around her fingers.

“Good girl,” she whispered, slowly dragging her fingers out of your mouth.

As if nothing happened, as if you weren’t sitting there blushing and sweating and feeling the space between your legs get warm, she went back to simply eating the popcorn and staring up at the screen.

Clearing your throat, you forced yourself to stop staring at this blasted woman who just teased you so easily and tried to focus on the movie.

Wanda’s handsy-ness wasn’t too extreme during the first half of the movie. It was only her arm around your waist, her hand rubbing your back sensually, her fingers softly combing through your hair and pulling on it hard once or twice just to get a squeak out of you, to which she pressed a discreet kiss to your neck. It was like she was just playing with you. It was like she was just playing with her food.

It wasn’t until halfway through the movie, when there was no sight of any sunlight in the dark night sky, that Wanda strengthened her moves on you.

Under the pretty fairy lights, as everyone else started to calm down and really settle into the movie, a chilly night breeze sewed itself through the air. It flittered over your exposed legs, causing you to shiver. Wanda, who’d been trying not to ogle your thighs all night, couldn’t help but see the goosebumps on your tender skin.

“You cold?” she asked in a soft, sweet tone. When you nodded, she reached over to the basket and brought out the large, thick blanket, draping it over the both of your laps. The warm, soft blanket was such a relief to your cold legs, and with Wanda’s body also available to you as a heater, you felt so cozy and safe.

Then Wanda’s hand reached under the blanket and rested on your thigh, her palm curving around it. The action made you stiffen, your skin growing exponentially warmer where her hand touched. The intimacy of the action sent shimmers through you, and you tried to beat back the little smile on your face.

Wanda, on the other hand, was trying not to smirk. She was more purposeful than you gave her credit for, but again, your naivety was what fueled her to see just how much she could get away with.

You were trying your hardest to ignore her hand on your thigh until it suddenly shifted upwards, pushing your skirt up with it. You gasped quietly. Her hand was all the way up your thigh now, gripping your flesh firmly. Her fingers were wrapped into the inner most tender part of your thigh, pressing into the soft skin there.

The heat between your legs amplified with how close Wanda was to it. You couldn’t help but nervously glance around, afraid that somehow someone had seen her hand grab your thigh under the thick blankets. Luckily, no one was looking. The closest person to you was Nat, but she was watching the film with her head tilted and arms crossed, obviously trying to analyze it like she did with most films.

“Wanda,” you whispered, glancing up at her to see that she was already staring at you darkly.

“What, princess?” she asked innocently.

The name struck you like a bullet of white hot fire in the pit of your stomach. She watched you seriously, a smirk twitching the corners of her lips, as she tightened her grip on your thigh. It stung a little, her fingertips digging so hard into that sensitive inner flesh of your thigh, that you almost squeaked.

“If you want to make noises for me, then do it, babygirl,” she lilted, and you almost gasped when her hand slipped fully under your skirt. You squirmed a little, but she looked at you threateningly. “Don’t move.”

Your breathing grew heavy as you looked around again, feeling that for sure someone was looking this time. No one was.

No one will see, detka.

Wanda’s voice was in your head again. You sharply turned to look at her, but she was staring at the screen now.

Suddenly, you felt something under the covers spreading your thighs open. You hadn’t even realized you’d been squeezing them together, but as you looked down at the blanket, you saw a hint of red glaring through it as your legs spread themselves wide open. She was using magic to open you up for her. Out of impulse, you tried to slam them shut, but her magic held you there, the red glare dissipating so as to not draw attention to what was happening beneath the blanket.

Be still.

You bit your lip as you felt Wanda’s hand cup you under your skirt, her palm pressing into your fabric-covered core. Your breath quivered out of both nervousness and pleasure when she found your clit through your panties and slowly rubbed it.

I can feel how wet you are through your panties, princess. Her voice was even husky in your head.

You tried to keep still as Wanda rubbed your sensitive nub, looking around again to see that still no one was looking at you. But the fact that anyone could look over at the wrong moment, see part of Wanda’s arm stretched towards your lap under the blanket, seeing shapes inappropriately moving under the fabric, instilled a sense of fear into you that seemed to propel your desire.

Good girl, just keep being still for me. I know how bad you’ve been wanting this. You’ve dreamed so much of my fingers.

God, how did she know? Had she been spying on you?

Her fingers dipped down your fabric-covered slit, tickling there for a moment and feeling the wet spot forming on your panties. You were soaking by now, you could feel it, and it only got worse when Wanda started to push your panties to the side.

You started to open your mouth to tell her no, that she shouldn’t do that in front of everyone at a party, that anyone could look over and see and that it’d be so embarrassing, but her voice was quick to reprimand you.

So what if someone sees? I’ll let anyone know that you’re all mine.

With that, her fingers successfully slipped under the thin, stretchy fabric of your panties and met your soaking cunt. You heard Wanda let out a tense breath as she seeped her fingers through your sopping folds, her jaw flexing again.

You’re so fucking wet, babygirl. Her voice growled within your head, dizzying you.

You glanced around nervously, almost thinking someone was looking at you, but finding that no one was still. You felt so nervous about it, so paranoid, but your feverishness was mostly just from Wanda’s fingers rubbing your bare clit now, moving your wetness all around.

I’ve been wanting to feel your pretty cunt for so long. You just had to wear this slutty little skirt tonight, hmm?

Heat burned throughout you as Wanda’s fingers moved towards your entrance, circling it. You stiffened a little, not knowing exactly what to expect from her. You had to force yourself to not gyrate against her hand, to not turn to her and beg for her to just do it, to not moan out loud. It was especially hard not to do the last thing when Wanda’s fingers thrusted inside you.

“Oh—” you started, until Wanda’s magic snapped your mouth shut. Wanda went completely still, freezing completely. You took a blushing, nervous glance around and nearly died when your eyes made contact with Nat’s eyes.

You froze like a deer in headlights. Nat was staring at you while Wanda’s fingers were inside you for the first time. You were looking her in the eye while your walls clenched around Wanda. You wanted to set yourself on fire.

Fortunately, Nat only gave a casual little head nod and a smile and then turned back to the movie. You knew Nat well enough to know that she wasn’t just pretending that she didn’t see anything. Luckily for you, she really had not noticed anything unusual other than your usual awkwardness around Wanda.

Close call, princess. You almost got found out for being a slut for me.

Taking a shaky breath, your hand crawled around until it found Wanda’s knee under the blanket and gripped it for dear life as she started thrusting her fingers inside you. You tried not to whine at the stretch—it’d been a while for you.

You’re so fucking tight, baby. Wanda’s voice was breathy in your head.

You threw your head back a little as Wanda’s fingers pumped in and out of you, and you could even hear the faint wet sounds coming from under the blanket. It made you feel so dirty, getting fingered like that in front of everyone, and being so wet for it, too.

I knew you were such a slut for me. What if I rip the blanket off right now, hmm? Expose you for spreading your legs for me even in public like a whore?

Gritting your teeth together, you felt Wanda’s two fingers hitting a sweet spot inside you. It was so hard to not buck your hips, to not squirm or moan or do anything but etch claw marks into Wanda’s knee.

And then you felt a more noticeable stretch. Squeezing your eyes shut, you felt Wanda force a third finger into you. This time you couldn’t help it. You threw your head to the side and buried it in Wanda’s chest, letting out a mix between a quiet moan and a sigh that luckily was muffled by Wanda’s sweater. Keeping as still as possible, you inhaled Wanda’s perfume and scratched the fuck out of her knee as she pumped three fingers inside your cunt at an agonizingly slow speed. You knew she would’ve fucked you a lot harder if it weren’t for the sake of being discreet.

“Wanda,” you murmured into her chest, feeling the valley of her breasts from beneath her sweater cushioning your face. “Wanda, I’m close.”

Her fingers were hitting so deep inside you. They were so long, and she was curling them, and she was hitting your sweet spot deep inside, and you could feel your juices dripping down yourself.

Hold it. She commanded.

You didn’t even realize it, but you clamped your teeth around a chunk of her sweater, biting down hard on the thick cable-knit fabric as the woman’s fingers plundered you at a steady pace. You didn’t even know if anyone was looking at you now, and you didn’t even care because your body was starting to tremble as you struggled to not cum all over her fingers.

Finally, when you begged again, she acquiesced with Cum for me, princess.

It took all of your power to not moan out loud as you orgasmed with Wanda’s fingers lodged deep inside you, your walls spasming around them and your hips trembling. She nuzzled her nose against the top of your head and hissed when you bit down on her sweater again and accidentally bit into her breast. She held you still with her spare arm, her fingers deep in you, as you came down from the blinding high.

“That’s it,” she whispered into your hair. “Good girl, just breathe.” You were breathing very hard to make up for not being able to moan. “You were such a good, quiet girl for me, angel.” The praise landed over you like soft kisses until you realized she was also pressing soft kisses to the top of your head.

It didn’t help that, when you had finally calmed down and Wanda pulled her shiny fingers out of you, she popped them into her mouth and sucked off all of your cum. You blushed and dug your face into her chest again, this time purposefully biting her breast which made her hiss again and then giggle evilly.

Luckily, no one had seen you get fingered by Wanda, at least not to your knowledge. Nothing had ever come out of it, at least, except that Tony spread a rumor that you had peed yourself during the party because when you stood up from the chair at the end of the night, there was a wet spot right under where you had been sitting.

[doromoni]

Lunch Preferences | LN4

Ships: Lando Norris x Personal Chef! Reader , Platonic! Oscar Piastri x Personal Chef! Reader

Warnings : None

Genre: fluff

Summary : Oscar’s food always tasted better and Lando finds out why.

Part 2

Lando was never adventurous when it came to certain things , most importantly when it came to the food that he consumed — His best friend Max could vouch on that , heck the entire grid and the whole McLaren hospitality can say it.

When it came down to it , when Lando didn’t like the ingredient used in the meal served in the Motorhome cafeteria, a special meal is always prepared for the Golden Boy of Mclaren. Most find it funny but the kitchen staff found it extremely annoying; to them Lando was a diva.

Kitchen personnel and caterers are shuffled within motorhomes and during races in different countries and it became problematic for Mclaren due to the new personnel’s lack of knowledge of their driver’s preferences. Funnily enough, this has become an issue much so that a protocol has been made stating that when a new driver is signed they are given their own personal chef that tours around with them during the races.

Cut to Oscar Piastri joining the Papaya Family , and Y/n L/n had been added to the roster. The Australian driver and Y/n had met during Oscar’s F2 season and had quickly formed a bond , by bond meaning Y/N fuels Oscar’s obsession with sweets. The aussie became obsessed so much that when the “personal chef” clause came up in his contract, his immediate answer was “ Y/N L/N”.

“Osc what the hell, What do you mean you got me a job at Mclaren? Are you high on sugar again?” You asked in disbelief as you stared at the Australian , an eyebrow raised.

You and Oscar are currently in his kitchen in his apartment in the UK, you trying to bake your f2 paddock famous cookies while Oscar tries to help , emphasis on tries.

“Oh come on Y/N! You’re perfect for this. You know my likes and dislikes . Plus you know how to trick me into eating my veggies” Oscar said exasperatingly.

“ Oscar as much as I love to feed you , you know that I cant travel with you, I have a job remember? Plus Im not a professional chef , you dummy! I just cook as a passion” You muttered softly trying to get your point across.

“Then quit! I know you hate your job y/n. This is your chance! I made sure that they’ll pay you handsomely ~ more than your current pay . I swear! PLUS you get to travel with me and you get to explore food all over the world” The boy did made a whole lot of sense…

“Fine , let me see the contract” Then an enormous grin plasters itself on his face.

***

* Brownies

“Holy Crap , Mate! These brownies are killer! Where did you get these?” Logan exclaimed as he continued to stuff his face with Oscar’s snacks prepared by Y/N of course.

“My chef made them for ME , Logan. Hands off “ Oscar swatted the American’s hand as he tried to get another piece.

“What are you two idiots up-to now? “ Alex spoke as he came near the duo, Lando right on his tail.

“Oscar brought these amazing brownies and He wont share ! Come on , mate just one more” Logan once again tried to reach for the bag only to be denied once again.

“Ohhh, let me try some of that!” Alex laid out his hand , and Logan complaining in the background saying “unfair “ as Oscar gave Alex one.

“You weren’t kidding! these are good. Lando try one” Alex gestured towards Lando.

Lando looking a bit apprehensive, took the offered treat and took a bite. As the Brit chewed , he couldn’t stop eating till there was no more. Screw belgian chocolate, that brownie was his favorite food now.

“Osc , give me another.” Lando requested to his now younger teammate.

“Nope~ these are mine” Oscar grinned teasingly as he stood up , away from the reach of his fellow drivers

“Oscarrrr , give em up you muppet!” Lando whined and pouted .

“No! Ask your chef to make you one. “ oscar implored.

“But the ones they make aren’t as good as thoseee” Lando continued to whine

“I know, these is Y/N’s special recipe. “ Oscar replied mockingly, a playful grin on his face as we waved them goodbye.

“Damn, Y/N made those? No wonder they tasted amazing” Logan muttered catching the attention of Lando.

“Y/N? Who?” Lando asked , now curious .

“Oh, Y/N is our friend , well now Oscar personal chef also. We met when Oscar and I were racing in F2. She used to bring us her cooking after the race.”

“Damn, did she put cocaine on those brownies or something?” Alex said wanting another bite.

“Did you say that she’s Oscar’s chef? That would mean that she’s in Mclaren right now?” Lando asked yet again to the now bemused American.

“Yes?” And with that Lando Norris is on a mission. Find the lady who makes extremely delicious brownies.

“Y/N” Lando muttered your name under his breath as he traversed towards his own motorhome with a purpose.

Finally reaching his destination only to be bombarded by his Pr manager pulling him along towards his media duties

Lando’s brownie mission was a fail

“Hey, do you know who’s Y/N?”

* Wok fried noodles

“ Ok so , Oscar will be done in a few minutes then it will be your turn” Lando’s manager , Valerie, explained as He was getting ready for the interview set up by Mclaren for a special edition for a motorsport magazine of some sorts.

“You should take a bite of your lunch , Lan. I don’t think you’ll be getting time to do so later” valerie explained, as she nudged the now cold , barely touched container of food towards the British driver.

“But there fish in it ,Val” The brit frowned as he glanced on his supposed to be lunch. How many times did he have to say NO FISH.

“It’s not even touching th-“ valerie tried to explain but was cut of by Lando as he exclaimed

“But it’s near a fish!” To which Valerie could only sigh and nod.

Then a knock and an opening of a door happened along with Oscar popping his head in — who appears to be carrying chopsticks and a container of sorts.

“ Hey, mate! They said it’ll be your turn in 15 mins or so” Oscar said as he scoops his lunch into his mouth.

“What ya eating there bud?” Lando couldn’t help ask as the savory aroma filled his room and a rumble came to his stomach.

“Some low carb noodle dish Y/N made , not really sure what’s it called . Tasted great tho.” The Australian said .

“Lemme have a bite” Lando waved his hands towards Oscar . With a shrug , oscar did.

As He took a bite , Lando could only think of one thing.

“Where could I get myself a Y/N”

* Spring Rolls

Practice 1 had just finished and the drivers have an hour or 2 to rest and kill time . And for our youngest Aussie driver on the grid it is time to annoy his lovely friend Y/N.

“ Hey, Y/N… could you please make extra servings of what ever you’re making for my lunch?” Oscar asked sheepishly

“Osc, No! You have to follow a strict calorie count and your trainer will kill me!” You said as you stoped what you were doing .

“It’s not for me, Its for Lando! He always eats my food “ Oscar explains and you understood clearly. Nodding with a smile , you shooed Oscar away.

“Thanks , Angel! “ Oscar left but not before leaving a kiss on your head.

You then set out to make lunch for 2 drivers, and finishing by packing them separately . You never forgot to leave a message on Oscar’s meals as encouragements to your closest friend

Your eyes go towards the food intended for Lando. You were contemplating whether you should write something or not. Biting your lip you took another piece of post it and started writing.

Maybe this is your chance to get the driver’s attention and shoot your shot. You have been crushing on the British driver for who knows how long. Tutting yourself you shake your head from your thoughts and delusions.

In the post it wrote ,

Dear, Lando

A little birdie told me that you liked my cooking , ey? Oh! I heard that you liked spring rolls so I made you a few. No fish , I promise. Hope you enjoy! And good luck on the race! I’ll be cheering on the sidelines 🧡

P.S. thank Osc , he begged me to tag you along :P

— Y/N

***

Butterflies filled Lando’s stomach as he opened the lunch box you made for him. You cooking for him and writing a note felt so domestic , like a wife and husband.Lando became a giggly mess as he re-read your note again and again.

He remembered the time when he first saw you. You were with Oscar in the Mclaren motorhome , sitting on the lounge when your eyes met his and you gave Lando a smile — it was only passing but to Lando it was enough. To him you were so angelic .He imagined coming home to you and you would cook for him and all seemed fine in the world.

“ you know , you should just ask her out on a date” and suddenly Lando was startled out of his daydreaming

“Huh , what? Dreaming? Who was? “ Lando tried to act cool in front of Oscar who was now sniggering as he leaned on the doorframe.

“ I know that you like Y/N, Lando! Just ask the girl already “

“Who’s Y/N?” Oscar rolled his eyes at his teammate

“You’re both idiots .y’know? You both have goggly eyes for each other — it honestly hurts to see. Here’s her number . Please just go out. Or I swear I’ll lock the two of you in a room or something. “ Lando was flabbergasted by his teammate who was now exiting the room.

“Uhh… Thanks Osc!” The Brit broke out into a huge smile as he shouted towards the australian

“Yeah yeah , just don’t hurt her or I promise to crash into you in every race”

***

[gulabilli]

trying not to be embarrassed about ordering myself what's basically a chew toy, like it's supposed to help with focus and sensory stuff which might be good for me and i can try it and that's allowed im an adult and can use my money how i want to

[gremlingottoosilly]

Stranger danger (slasher!Konig x fem!Reader)

You never wanted to go to this stupid party. Turns out, you were right all along - it doesn't save you from this weird guy in a Ghostface mask though. Warnings and tags: Non-con, size difference, knives, slasher-y, slight degradation, obsessive Konig, yandere Konig, praise kink Word count: 3069 AO3

You told your friends you didn’t want to go to this stupid party. No one cared. You asked them for at least a funny group costume, and everyone agreed – only to bail at the fucking party, so you were the only one who went as a freaking ant from that one extremely sad meme. With a little handkerchief on a stick and everything. No one got it. 

You told your friends that you wouldn’t want to get drunk unless they would be with you because, honestly, college parties are the worst, and you don’t want anyone to get roofied. They left you by the snack table, making you eat smarties and occasional chips like salt counts don’t exist. 

You were munching on a particularly tough pretzel – the packaging was saying something in German, as exotic as this college could fucking get without being too scared of spices – when The Guy dropped himself on the couch next to you. 

Yes, The Guy – because you were in no right to call him just a guy, a dude, a lil’ bro, or anything like that. He was way over 6 feet, probably creeping on being the new form of a fancy light post, and built like a bear that was eating nothing but protein and particularly tasty American tourists. Dressed in all black, very original, he must love spending time in various shops and choosing between 50 shadows of the same dark attire. 

At this point, you were not surprised that he was wearing a Ghostface mask. At this point, you lost all of your capabilities to be surprised – only slightly intrigued, perhaps, and a little bit aroused when he manspreaded his legs and pushed his knee right against your leg, not stopping until he crammed you to the corner of a sofa. How the one man could take so much space, you had no idea. What he was eating to grow up this big – also. 

He looked like at least three frat boys from a sports team crammed together in one body. Tight muscles that could be seen even through the bagginess of his clothes – you aren’t sure if you could survive looking at his pecks without wanting to give up all of your life earnings for a gym membership. 

— Hey. 

A master of flirting, you just needed someone to talk to. 

The Guy didn’t respond. 

You frowned – a typical college boy would already try to flirt with you, probably getting you drunk to get an easy lay for the next 10 seconds of pure physical exercise. If he wasn’t interested in a conversation, he probably shouldn’t have sat in your corner – unless he wanted to steal snacks, of course. Something in his figure told you that he would be a freaking hurricane in the snack aisle. 

He smells like metal – weird, you think. Not like you wanted to smell him, of course not. You were just crammed in a really tight place against his shoulders, your nose forced to press into his shirt and inhale the deep scent of some generic perfume, a surprising hint at laundry detergent and cleaning supplies – and, of course, said metal. 

You expected sweat and cheap booze – but this means it smells like a butcher and a cleaning lady at the same time. 

To closer observation, he looked…nervous, almost. Hands fidgeting with a fake knife that he probably snatched from some Halloween supply shop – it’s surprisingly heavy looking, without that cheap shine that a lot of Ghostface costume knives have, and you feel almost endeared by the way he fidgets and spins the knife in his hands. Still, somehow, he looked anxious. 

— Are you alright? 

He continues to sit here silently. You fight the savior instinct inside of you, reminding yourself that you do not need to nurse and mother a grown-up college boy who is probably too high to talk right now or simply dozed off in his mask with no one to notice this – but still, something in his hunched posture made you feel…soft. Tender. This, or you’re too drunk to not be a doting mommy, since all of your friends ditched you and your sad ant cosplay to be slutty fish sticks. 

— Ja, I’m fine. 

German accent. This is a surprise for a college boy at this party. Guys who are usually visiting those places can barely speak English, so knowing German with that perfect weird accent of his makes you feel…things. Never too much for accents, you still sat a bit closer, your face pressed against his shoulder. Cheek smashed on his skin – he doesn’t say anything about extreme physical contact. You’re surprised at your own confidence. 

— From which program are you? 

— What? 

— Like…which school. What do you study? 

He paused. Flicks the knife in his hands – from this angle, it looks way too sharp for a simple plastic knife. Guy must be a crazy cosplayer who spends hours on trying to make foam and metallic paint look this realistic – you admire this level of nerdiness a little bit. With this skill, he could be more than a generic Ghostface. 

He shrugs, leaving you without an answer. Alright, not much of a talker. Probably from computing, STEM boys always act like contact with females would make them pregnant. 

— Are you enjoying the party? 

— Ja. 

— You came alone? 

— Ja. 

— What do you…alright, just tell me if I’m annoying. I’ll stop bothering you. 

He chuckles – your cheeks are immediately heated when he presses his hand closer to your thigh. The actions is suggestive, and you don’t quite…don’t quite mind it. You always had a thing for masks, and his body resembles the one of a greek statue – you wouldn’t want to pass on this opportunity. Definitely not for sex, not the type to hook up with a random boy on Halloween, but maybe a sloppy makeout and some number exchange would take place. 

König had different plans. 

Honestly, you made it too fucking easy for him. Good girl, polite girl, nice girl who actually fucking asked him if he was alright because his hands were shaking from the adrenaline he got from killing some weird asshole trying to get a drunk girl in his bed. He was shaking because he knew he’d get away with it – there were so many drugs on the venue, police wouldn’t even want to open this rathole and try to search for a killer in that random ass city he got on a break after the latest contract. 

You made it too easy – your weird costume, your sad face, and your attempts at caring for him actually made his blood boil from excitement, and his nerves(and his dick, throbbing in that baggy black pants) stir. You tucked in the corner, all by yourself, surrounded by loud noises and intoxicated people who couldn’t give less shit about your safety. He can slit your throat, and everyone would think it’s a costume. 

He can…and he can also take a little treat for having such a good last mission. Might even take you with him if you’d promise to be a good girl and don’t fight him in the trunk of his car. 

You can’t even scream when he pushes his hands on your throat, squeezing. You wanted to, he knew by the look in your eyes that there was a fire inside of you – so he extinguished it as fast as he possibly could, laughing at your pathetic attempts at fighting him off. Just like your friends, you are weirdly easy for him to handle. Just a bunch of drunk college mates, nothing compared to his experience. He’d say that he stood too low, so crazy on his leave, that he decided to search for the easiest prey imaginable, but sometimes you need to choose yourself and find some easy hobbies that you can partake in without taking too much from your psychological sources. 

Sometimes, you just need to kill a bunch of drugged students and take home one of them – for mental health reasons. Konis is sure that KorTac would allow him to take you to the base if he’d prove that you are his psychological support pet. Maybe he could even share you with some of his officers as a treat. You’d be so sweet for Krueger, he can tell just from that terrified look on your face when he pushes his hands further, blocking your windpipe. 

König is strong – stronger than anyone you know, probably. He knows how to use this strength for the better and for worse, and he isn’t afraid of pushing a bit too far, not enough to break you, but just freaking perfect to make you dazed and turn your brain into mush. So sweet for him, such tasty little noises and scratches of your nails on his gloved hands. He must leave some marks on you later since you’re so sweet to him now. 

— Not so talkative now, Schatzi? 

You squirm, trying to punch him right in his dick, and he only moans when your knees are jerking in a poor attempt at kicking his balls. If anything, it feels like a really nice massage. So fucking obedient for him, he can’t even imagine how cute you’ll look chained to his bed, forced to play his little girlfriend while he is searching for your friends to finish them off. 

Taking off your clothes is ridiculously easy. Even while you decided not to wear a slutty costume for Halloween, the cheap fabric isn’t a good barrier between him and his desire to freaking crush you – he exposes your breasts, covering them with one of his hands right about now, keeping his other hand firmly seated on your throat. You whimper and cry as he plays with your soft buds, making them harden, undoubtedly creating a pool in your shorts. God, you’re beautiful like this. 

He actually grieves wearing a mask that can’t be moved this easily – he’d love to munch on your breasts, to try your nipples with his tongue, and roll his teeth over your soft mounds. He can’t, not right now, at least – you’re not nearly broken enough not to tell the police about his face, and he doesn’t want you to close your eyes. Need to make sure you’ll see every inch of his dick. 

His rough gloves are creating a weird but pleasurable pressure on your buds – you whine and sob as he pushes his hands to stimulate you more, not caring that you don’t want it. Tugging and teasing with his fingertips, you actually feel like you’re going crazy just from the way he is playing with your breasts. Pushing from side to side, touching soft flesh, not even allowing you to moan as every time you try to open your mouth, he grips your throat tighter. 

When he is finally done playing with your boobs, you can almost feel bruises forming from his rough touches. You whine when he goes to rip your shorts – his touches feel like lava spreading between your legs, no matter how much you wanted him to stop, your tongue never came to actually beg him for it. 

To his delight, you are soaking. 

Your pretty pussy on full display for him – twitching and squeezing for nothing, poor thing, he might as well just push the finger already, stretching you out just enough to let you feel the burn without breaking you. König would love to just push his dick inside without all of these dancing around nothing, but he is aware of his size – and very, very aware of yours. Little things might not be as small as he likes to think you are, but you’re freaking tiny compared to him. Weak and fragile, you have no fucking excuse to just parade yourself like men around you aren’t a bunch of wolves that would love to rip you apart and fuck what remains. 

You can barely breathe while he pushes his fingers inside, just one digit is enough to make you squirm under him. You’re wet, pussy damp from all of the juices – lack of oxygen makes you dumber, pliable, make you his best little thing in the world. A girl like you has no business going to parties and whoring yourself to a bunch of early alcoholics – you should stay at home, his home, cooking him dinner and warming his dick. Cleaning his knife after he’d gut some dumb fuck, making sure to get your tongue into all the sharp edges. 

Scheisse, just the thought makes him harder than ever. Perhaps he needs to stop playing the nice guy and finally give you the pounding you deserve. 

Tired of just holding his hand on your throat, he forces the blade of his knife to take its place. Not nearly enough to cut your skin, but a constant reminder – if you’re a bad girl and would try to escape, he might slit your fucking throat as easily as butter. If you’re a good girl, unlike your friends, he might just take you with him. What a beautiful option. 

One finger turns to two very quickly – and, since he doesn’t stop you from moaning and talking, you finally gain your voice back. Poor girl, too dumb to understand that all of your little threats and cries and everything is just a fucking delight to his ears. Might as well record it for his alarm clock. 

— Get…get off me!

Such a strong words for such a weak girl. He’d spank you right away, but his fingers are too busy playing with your folds, smearing your juices all over your clit and trembling pussy. You’re dripping like a slut, and it busts his ego – a fancy college girl like you, so wet and needy for a nasty criminal. He knows how to treat you right and has all the resources for it – but somehow, it feels like you’d enjoy being treated like his doll. 

He can be sweet after he has fucked you raw. 

— Please, you can’t…I won’t tell anyone if you just stop, I promise! 

— Shatzi, why do you think I’d let you go after this? 

— I…I will scream. 

— Ja, you can scream. Do this for me, please.

He laughs as he plunges in, giving you sweet seconds to become accustomed to the feeling of his dick impaling you. Bulging in the outline of your soft tummy, another boost to his ego – just to think, he was so anxious about crashing this party, knowing it would be filled with prissy students who all get to live the life he dreamed of, but you made it all worth it. You’re sweet and fiery, and you grip him like a glove. No matter how wet you were and how much pre-cum he had leaked, you’re still tight for him. Too tight. 

You scream when he plunges it, and you continue to scream when he pushes deeper, further, when he moves back a little bit, only to push forward again. His hand finds your clit, never stopping until you’re squirming and crying full-on under him. Such a shame he can’t kiss you, not with this stupid mask – he can only play with your slit and push a knife against your throat over and over again, never allowing the adrenaline in your system to run dry. 

Over and over, pushing you further and further until he plunged inside fully – you’re so puffy around him, your pussy lips swollen and spread for him, your clit is throbbing from the pleasure he gives you. Getting you off like that is easy for him – but he has to make sure he isn’t taking it too far, not with how warm and tight you are. He hates being in a position of weakness, but you’re just so perfect, he can’t help but push further and further until you are a sobbing mess and he is on the edge of orgasm. 

He forces himself to be slower, his pushes are more and more deliberate – he doesn’t want to cum so fast, even though the mix of your sobs and his adrenaline high from the killing almost makes it impossible. He doesn’t want to stop like this, so fucking easy, but you’re so welcoming and cute and…

— Please, please, don’t…don’t come inside, I’m not on the pill, I’m…

God, you’re so sweet for him. Did the devil finally give him his gift for Halloween? 

He laughs as you sob softly, pushes you more and more, and your poor pussy is getting stretched far beyond its limits. He steals this orgasm from your decency, robs you of any accountability – you just lay here, under him, receiving his dick like a good girl you are. Couldn’t have it any other way, just wanted to have you pinned under his body forever. 

Your orgasm is crushing, painful in a way – you're all too sensitive for a dick this large to impale you, you sob, and you cry, begging for him to stop before he’d cum inside. Your biggest nightmare is alive when he pushes the knife away from your throat, squeezing it again just so he can cum in the tightness of your hole. 

He stays like this, connected to your deepest parts, for a good few minutes, dumb out after the orgasm. You try to squirm from under him, but he only laughs, slowly pushing away from your body. Just one load is enough to make your pussy all messy and even more wet. You’re so dirty for him, it’s actually impossible not to love you even more when you’re like this, dumb and sensitive and so, so fucking cute. 

His cum drips from your overflown pussy, pearly white liquid stuffs you ever so perfectly, König laughs, putting his clothes back together and getting one last look at your ruined hole, clenching around nothing. You can’t even talk at this point, poor thing – just how can he leave you here to be found by your perverted friends who would only take advantage of you? 

It’s only natural that he sneaks your limp body through the window, holding you like a beloved possession while he is getting in his car. 

It’s only natural that you fall asleep in his arms, your pussy stuffed so full, he just knows that he’ll add to the mess once he’d get rid of the body of a dumb college guy he killed moments ago. 

[strawberryviscera]

i wanna try currywurst so bad you guys don’t even know

[cathkaesque]

When it comes to understanding migration, this needs to be taken into account: if you are in a rural area in the global south, like Honduras, you have basically no access to social services, medicine, and education. In fact, the funding for those services is actually being cut, as the social security funds have been looted by corrupt politicans appointed by a military coup. Then you have to factor in that you likely have no access to the land, and no access to credit to buy seeds, and have to sell yourself for basically pennies to an agroindustrial giant. The peasants feed the local people; the agroindustries feed the Americans. In Guatamala, there is a neo-corporate fuedalism where you are allowed a patch of land if you are willing to work, unpaid, for coffee plantations which sell their produce to the German company Ritz. If you attempt to settle unoccupied land, a local businessman will claim it is his without any proof, and the police will take his side because the Agrarian Reform Institute, which issues land titles, is controlled by coupists whose main concern is squeezing as much wealth out of the country as possible. Thugs will murder a man and his wife in broad daylight, and the judge will respond by evicting you and your family from the land.

There is nowhere else for you to go but Tegucigalpa, where you can work trying to wash car windows or selling snacks to passing cars for a handful of lempira a day. Or perhaps you could work for a few dollars a day in one of the maquila factories making textiles for the American and European market, which are set up in special economic zones called Charter Cities where the constitution and labour laws do not apply, which can close down and spirit away whenever they like to another country when they are more willing to sell their people for even less. And then you have to factor in the hurricanes that sweep through the country, destroying everything, that the rains no longer come when they used to but when they do they come in flooding torrents. Much of the north of Honduras is currently underwater; most of the banana and coffee plantations have been destroyed.

And then you factor in when you tried to change this via electing a better government in 2006, he was overthrown in 2009; when you tried to get organised and resist the coup, your friends, your loved ones, your trade union leaders and peasant resisters all turned up mysteriously dead while the military and police worked with drug gangs disguised as agribusiness like the Dinant coproration to burn down villages that opposed them. For trying to change things in the way that you were supposed to, through non violently protesting, organising, and voting for something better, you were subjected to a decade of counterrevolutionary terror and violence that the “international community” not only ignored but gave its active approval to. All of the factors listed above have not only been ongoing for the last 10 years, they’ve been intensified, hothoused by the global counterrevolutionary terror that was the response to the 2011 wave of post-financial crisis uprisings and revolutions and accelerating climate apocalypse.

And at the same time, all of this is being done so more of the country can be turned into a massive cash cow for the benefit of foreign corporations and domestic oligarchs. The wealth of your country is siphoned off and flows around the American and European financial system, benefiting them and building a consumer disneyland that looks like paradise compared to your situation. That could, even if you are worked for nothing, give you a few dollars to send home that could build your abuela in the countryside a nice home for her to live out her days. What other option is left for you and your family other than joining the exodus of people heading north, to the countries where the wealth and profits and rewards of your homeland’s suffering are being kept. And after you cross mountains and rivers which freeze you to death and sweep you away, you are faced with a massive border wall of ahte and soldiers on horses which hit you with sticks. You are faced with an immigration detention centre that will chain you to your bed while you give birth and separate you from your baby who will be given away for adoption to a white couple. When you make a charge against the border fence in Melilla, fed up with being kept in shacks with nothing while the Northerners debate what to do about the problem people their greed has forced to move, the Moroccan police will beat 35 of you to death.

And then when you get there to that golden paradise, you end up doing work not dissimilar to the work you were doing back home, working for pennies (though pennies that are valuable enough back home to buy the family that remain the tiniest slice of comfort) for an agroindustrial giant that supplies supermarkets with cheap produce picked by cheaper people. While you work in the fields, a crop duster plane will spray you with paraquat; when support organisations try to raise this with OSHA they will ask for the plane’s number, and when this can’t be provided they will say nothing can be done. In fact, inspectors are ordered to stay away from the plantations on the Texas border. A member of the Border Agricultural Workers Project says she hasn’t seen a normal child born on the border in 20 years, such is the effect of agrichemicals. If you fuck up in the slightest, have any interaction with the state, you will be deported and sent back to square one. There are a 14 million migrants in the US in the same precarious state, effectively without any way of enforcing their rights. My aunt is a Mexican migrant in California. Her son was deported because he got a speeding ticket. It was 15 years before she saw him again, other than through the bars of the border fence, when she finally got her green card.

The situation in Honduras can be repeated for almost any other country. Syria, Venezuela, Iraq, South Sudan, Libya, all the headline countries are countries that have been subjected to a severe counterrevolutionary terror. The processes of dispossession and destruction of peasant economies and communities (primitive accumulation to use the Marxist jargon) have been hothoused over the last decade by war and violence. I just wish that relatively comfortable people in the imperialist countries realised that the “migrant crisis” is the result of policies that their governments forced on others. Violence that their elites made their fortunes off. What a monstrous, barbarous way of life we have.

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: anon request - "Requesting for Jake (and Johnnie but it's not what you think) // Jake Johnnie and y/n go live in the car - Jake accidentally lets it slip that he was with someone - no one knew - y/n and Jake don't want anyone knowing that they're together ???  So they're scrambling to try and cover it up? Idk if that makes any sense but in my mind it does lolllll thanks"

Warnings: Fluff mainly, flirting, trying different candies, Jake and Johnnie being Jake and Johnnie, secret relationship between reader and Jake, cute, funny

Word count: little over 2k | not edited at all

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

As you're getting around to go do a video with Jake and Johnnie, your phone lights up. You lean over, picking up and smiling when you see Jake's name on the screen, "Hello?"

"Are you almost ready? Johnnie's getting a little impatient." Jake laughs and you can hear Johnnie in the background yelling but Jake raises his voice to cover it, "Well be there to get you in like ten minutes."

"Okay." You laugh, "I'm about ready."

"Okay. See you soon." Jake says and you agreed, "Yeah, bye." You smile as you hang up, getting ready to set your phone down, but you get a text that makes you stop.

It's from Jake, Remember, gotta keep your hands to yourself.

You smirk, setting down your brush to hold your phone with both hands, Aw, man. That's no fun. But since we're a secret, I guess I can manage.

You set your phone down, doing your finishing touches to your makeup, before you get another text from Jake, you're my favorite secret.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Hey." You say as you get in the car, "Look at you sitting in the back already." You turn to look Johnnie in the backseat and he stares blankly at you, "I don't like it."

Jake sighs making his voice all weird, "Well suck it up buttercup." He laughs as he starts to drive away. You bite your lip, keeping your head forward as you try to keep your smile at bay.

When you're with Jake, you're always giddy, happy to see him. You're always wanting to hold his hand, lay your hand his arm, kiss him.

Anything to be touching him.

But you can't do that right now. You and Jake agreed to try and keep things on the low, just have some private time for as long as you can before word got out and everyone went crazy.

"We got some American candy and some candy from over yonder to compare them to." Jake pulls into the parking lot, leaning forward to check if he's up far enough.

"Over yonder as in.. where, Jake?" Johnnie asks and Jake puts the car in park before turning around to look at him, "Can you not just go with the flow for once? Do you have to know everything?"

Johnnie nods, "Yeah, I'm an anxious person."

"Here." Jake hands him a regular Kit Kat, "Eat this."

"Ooh. Candy!" Johnnie's voice goes high, almost like he's about to pull out the Timmy card and Jake sighs, "Please, Johnnie. Keep Timmy in your pants."

You cover your mouth, fighting back laughter as Jake turns around, looking over at you, "What's so funny?"

You look at him, smirking slightly as you shrug, "You're just a funny guy, Webber." He laughs, "Ah, ha. Ha. I know." He winks at you before starting the stream, "Hello. It's me."

"And me." Johnnie buts in and you lean over, "I'm here, too."

Jake smiles, "You guys get the three stooges today.  Moe. Larry. And Curly." His eyes scan over the chat, "Today, I'm going to be making y/n and Johnnie try some candy snacks from over yonder, ya know?"

You watch as he reaches back, pulling a bag from the floor behind your seat.

"Oh!" He yells kinda loud, which makes you jump, "You can get one of these bad girls." He pinches his hoodie and pulls it out, "On the merch site."

He looks back at Johnnie and scoffs, "Stop tongue fucking your Kit Kat and show them your shirt, Jesus Christ Johnnie."

Johnnie tries not to laugh, "B-but. I thought that's what we were doing?"

You roll your eyes, laughing as he leans forward, "If you want to support us in being americas favorite ladies, click the link below."

"Yes, all proceeds will go to Johnnie smelling better than a hairsprayed chicken nugget." Jake claps his hands together, cutting Johnnie off before he can say anything, "Anyway. Let's get started."

He pulls something from the bag and looks at it, "So this is a melon flavored kit from what I'm guessing is Japan? Maybe?" He hands it to you and you look at it, "Cantaloupe I think."

You shrug, opening it up, "I mean.. it smells.. okay?" You hold the open candy up to Jake's nose and he takes a big, over-exaggerated sniff, "Mm." He groans, "Melony."

"You're so fucking weird." Johnnie shakes his head and you extend your arm back, "You wanna smell it, too?"

He leans in, "I don't smell anything."

"Hmm." You pull your arm back up, breaking off one of the bars, "Here." You hand one to Jake and he takes it, "Why thank you." He takes it and bites into it and Johnnie yells, "Thanks for waiting for us you jackass."

You laugh, looking between them and Jake puts the piece he bit off back on top of the bar, "Fine, I'll just magically reattach it."

You lean forward, "Yeah." You nod as you read the chats, "They fight like a married couple."

"We do not." Both Jake and Johnnie say at the same time and you tilt your head, "Really."

"I'm not married to Johnnie because my-" Jake stops and your eyes go slightly wide, "Because your what Jake?"

Johnnie leans up, "Yeah, Jake. Is there something I should know about?"

Jake laughs and shakes his head, biting into the candy, "Fuck you guys."

"Another woman, or man, I should know about?" Johnnie is clearly joking, but he wouldn't be if he knew about the two of you.

"Alright, no. I'm not.." Jake laughs, "I give this one a three point five."

"Way to change the subject." Johnnie says and Jake looks at him, "Can you-"

Johnnie cuts him off, "Not me. The people in the screen are saying it."

You lean forward, eyes scanning down over the chat,

User1- PLEASE they're so funny

User2 - Nahhh that sounded like Jake was about to spill a secret

User3- TELL US

User4 - JAKE WEBBER WHAT ARE YOU HIDING

User5 - he has a secret girlfriend. I'm calling it right now.

User6 - Jake would have told us, so no one jump to conclusions please

User 7 - Y'all don't know that wtffff Jake Jake Jake Jake Jake Jake please

User8 - I just joined, what happened?

"Well, I'll catch you up, Jake and Johnnie are arguing over the fact that they say they aren't a married couple." You laugh as you look at Jake, then to Johnnie, "And you guys so are."

Jake rolls his eyes, "Annyywaaay."

"Anyway." You and Johnnie say at the same time, both mocking Jake. You give Jake a smile, letting him know you're low key flirting with him.

"What the fuck." Johnnie shakes his head, "There's no way that just happened. Fucking mocking me you.. mocker."

Jake rolls his eyes at Johnnie and smirks at you, "Anyway."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

A little while later, towards the end of the stream, you're trying these chocolate candies, "Ah." You catch chocolate in your hand, "Why is it melting like this?”

"I don't know, I can't read Japanese." Jake laughs, "Hang on." He reaches over, grabbing a napkin and wiping it off your pant leg, "Goddamn. We can dress you up but we can't take you out."

"Wait, I thought you only said that to me." Johnnie pouts, "You backstabbing bitch."

Jake laugh, hanging his down as he shakes it, "Johnnie, I can't take you anywhere in general."

"Fair. Fair." Johnnie nods and you try to eat the candy but it gets on your lip and down your chin, "Ope." You close your lip, pointing with your pinky so Jake can get you another napkin.

"Jesus Christ, y/n. You're messier than I am." Johnnie laughs and you roll your eyes. Jake wipes your chin and lip with his thumb and pops it into his mouth, without thinking of course.

"Did you just.. Jake. You're holding a fucking napkin." Johnnie points and Jake just stares at you, panicking on what to do.

You lick your lips, wiping your chin off with the napkin, "now that I can speak, Johnnie. At least I don't leave black hair color stains on Jake's white seats."

Johnnie purses his lips and points to you, "That.. is from my root cover up bullshit. It's not easy being a blonde who dyes their hair, ya know."

Jake leans back over into his seat and laugh, "That's why you're stupid, stupid fuck."

You and Jake gently, well you gently bully Johnnie. Jake just bullies him to try and cover up what he did to you, but the chat won't let it go.

User9 - DID HE JUST- he didn't

User10- PLEASE HE HAD A NAPKIN

User11 - if I was y/n right now I'd be dead

User12 - that was so hot WTF

User13 - PLEASS GELL MW THEURE DAYING

User14 - JAKE blink if you like y/n

User15 - Johnnie absolutely kills me he's so funny without even trying LMAO

User16 - Johnnie knows. Johnnie tell us. Please Johnnie. Please SPILL IT

"Wait." Johnnie leans forward, "What did I spill?" He looks around and Jake laughs, "You idiot, they're telling you to spill something, you know like a secret. Fuck, why are we friends?"

"Because.." Johnnie changes his voice, "You love me. I'm all you have."

"Not true." Jake mumbles as he glances over at you because raising his voice loud enough for Johnnie to hear, "Yeah, yeah. I guess. Whatever you say."

"I'll take it." Johnnie nods and leans back, "so is that all or is there any other things we need to try?"

"Yeah, you need to try shutting the fuck up for once." Jake tries not to laugh, but fails, snorting as he rests his head on the steering wheel, "Fucking hell, Johnnie."

"As I said. Married couple." You laugh as you break apart another Kit Kat and hand a piece to Jake.

Johnnie slowly leans forward, his voice is quiet, "You'll have to kill me if you want me to stop, because I'm never going to stop."

Jake waits a few seconds and quickly reaches his hands up, trying to get Johnnie's neck.

User17 - we're about to witness the murder of Johnnie Guilbert

User18 - rip Johnnie

User19 - idk how y/n puts up with them

You sigh, shrugging as you tilt your head, "I don't know either, honestly." You laugh, reaching up to break up the small cat fight between the boys, "Hey, no blood on the white interior."

"Yes mom." Jake faces forward, hands in his lap and Johnnie salutes you, "Yes ma'am."

You chew on the inside of your cheek, "Do we have anything else to try?" Jake shakes his head, "No, I don't think we do." He looks over at you, "I am hungry though."

You and Johnnie both agree and Johnnie sighs, "Stop. Fucking. Copying me."

"Stop fucking copying me." You mock him with a laugh and Johnnie hangs his head down, "You're lucky you're not Jake saying that because if it was Jake I-"

"What." Jake spins around, "What will you do, you big bad. Emo goth guy?" He tries not to laugh again and Johnnie just reaches up slowly, tapping him on the cheek, "That. Thats what I'd do."

"You hit like a bitch bro, remind me to never have you on my side in a fight." Jake turns around laughing and Johnnie just sighs, "I can't stand you."

"You love me." Jake smiles at him and Johnnie tries not to laugh, "Fuck off."

"You know.. I'd- nevermind." Jake laughs, shaking his head, "Nevermind. Okay. So that's it for today. See you in the next one, bye."

Johnnie waves, along with you and Jake ends the stream.

It's quiet for a few minutes as everyone gets situated for the drive to get food and Johnnie breaks the silence, "so are you guys like fucking? Or what?"

You and Jake glance at each other, neither one of you willing to answer and Johnnie huffs, “Mm. Just as I suspected.”

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

This was literally written on a whim. I had this sitting in my drafts for a little while and I finally just sat down and kept writing until I felt like it was good enough to stop.

I hope you enjoyed, let me know what you think.

Love you all! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[soxcietyy]

Can I request Yuta and y/n go to gojo’s house to “house sit” while he’s out on a mission (for whatever reason gojo wants them to watch his house), and while in there, they have rough sex and Gojo comes home to his house and they hide in one of his closets and finish in there.😭

House sitting

"If anything breaks I’m going to make sure it comes out your pockets." Gojo said with a stern voice over the phone.

Today your lovely teacher left you and Yuta to house sit for extra credit. He had a week long mission across Japan and he needed someone to take care of his home. Mostly because he had a very expensive pet Koi fish to be maintained. He had set you long instructions about how to feed and clean its home.

He trusted the both of you because you were the most careful people out of the rest. Making him feel at ease about leaving his home to you. He couldn’t make himself leave the other student to do such a job.

Isn’t he rich? Something like that shouldn’t hurt him. You laugh at the thought as you take out the key from your pocket and insert it in the keyhole.

The door opened to the big house and both of you stepped in with your jaws open. It looked really big and nice from the outside but the inside was indescribable. He’d had to of paid an interior decorator because theirs no way he had good taste like this.

"Don’t worry Gojo sensei we won’t ruin anything. Hope your mission goes well!" Yuta says as he wishes his sensei a good trip. When he hung up he put his phone in his pocket and smiled at you.

You were currently raiding the pantry because Gojo did say "make yourself at home, just don’t get too comfortable." You ended up finding pretty high end snacks and foreign ones too. The amount of sweets in there was disgusting to look at. You ended up grabbing a bag of American bbq chips but it was snatched out of your hand by Yuta.

You quirk your brow and playfully take it back. The smirk on his face determined that a game had begun. You run past him with the chips and tauntingly shake them in the air. You knew he loved eating chips and would die to try some of these.

"You going to come and get them?" You laugh.

"Mmh Im sure Gojo has something similar or even better in the pantry." He said as he walked past you.

You sigh seeing how the game ended so quickly but soon took that thought back as he grabbed it from your hands in one swift motion. You quickly grab the back of his shirt and pulled him back. Yuta ends up falling down and you take the bag once again.

"That was dirty" he says as he sat there

"How unfortunate huh? You better start begging for this bag Okkotsu because there’s no way you’re getting it from me."

Yuta grabbed you by the ankle and pulled you down with him making you fall on your behind. You groan from the pain but then gasp in surprise as he pushed you completely on the floor. Back touching the cold marble tiles. He had your arms pinned on the floor as he hovered over you. The ring from his necklace dangling over your face.

"Can I beg for a different snack? Something more exotic?" He leans down till your noses are touching.

You swallow hard as the grip on the bag of chips suddenly loosened. Gojo would be mad if he found out you guy did it in his house. He didn’t even know the both of you were dating. It was something you guys decided to keep secret for now. If he did know you doubt he would have let the both of you guys stay together alone at him house. You shyly look away as he planted a kiss on your head.

"Gojo is going to get mad when he finds out." You whisper as if he was somehow going to be listening to the conversation.

"If he finds out, trust me he’s not going to be back soon. If he was we wouldn’t be house sitting right?" He said trying to persuade your answer.

"You don’t have a condom" you say trying to find an excuse.

He chuckled as he looked up and around the room. "This is Gojo’s house you know, that’s one of the first things we’re going to find if we snoop around." He said as he stood up and extended his hand out.

You gladly took it and got on your feet. You watch as he walked down a hall into a room. Following right behind him out of curiosity you realize that he had entered your teachers room. Peeking in you could feel his huge cali-king bed in the middle. It had big white fluffy covers on and tons of pillows. You could also see tons of designer shopping bags thrown in a corner. An expensive dresser and his collection of sunglasses.

"Ah thank goodness we have almost the same size, this should be fine." He said as he held the rubber in between his index and middle finger.

You could feel your cheeks flush as he said it with a happy look on his face. He handed the rubber to you too look at while he began to take his clothes off.

"Wait! We’re doing it here? In his room? Are you crazy?! He’s totally going to find out, he’s not stupid Yuta!" You say as you pull his shirt back down.

He sighs as he sits you on the big bed. You look up at him confused on what his plan was. He pushed you onto the bed as gently as sits over your waist trapping you under him. He then proceeded to take his shirt off fully.

"Relax, I don’t think iv ever seen you this nervous other than our first time." He says amused.

He was right, you were probably overreacting and everything was going to be fine. He took your uniform off too and eventually both of you were in bed unclothed. He leaned down and kissed your body up and down while you played with his silky hair. Going all the way down till he reached your throbbing heat. You bite your lip as he hooked your legs onto his arms and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed. His lips brush against your as you could feel as his warm tongue entered in between your folds.

"Mhm!"

He began eating you out like he always did. As if it were his last meal. You grip his hair as he continued eating you out faster. So many lewed noises being made. It sounded so wet and so good that it made you feel embarrassed somehow. Your toes curled while he messed with your sensitive bud. You could feel yourself getting closer but he stopped halfway not wanting you to finish just yet.

Changing location on the bed you now were laying your head near the headboard. Yuta was now on the bed spreading your legs apart. He allied himself to your hole and slowly started going in. You wince at the uncomfortable pain from not being stretched out.

He slowly pulls his tip in and out of you repeatedly to get you comfortable with his length. As he moved the bed shook a bit. He was looking around the room making sure the bed didn’t bump into anything valuable and then noticed the shelf on top of the bed. On there you could see a few expensive statues that seemed to be a collection. As he still mindlessly moved he noticed that one was sitting too close to the edge and with one more small thrust the statue fell over the edge. He lunged foward to catch it before it made contact with the floor and that he did.

“Yuta!" You yell

He looked down at you to see your face full of pain. Then he realized that he shoved himself all the way in to be able to catch the statue.

"Sorry! I didn’t mean to ram into you!" He said with a shy smile.

After that situation the both of you continued. He thrusted into you more and more. You moaned his name as you grabbed his arms for moral support. His member attracted you out so much that you felt so full. Your eyes watered from how good it felt. Your thighs touched his chest as he folded you more and more. He wanted to make sure that he was deep inside of you and leaving you satisfied. His hips rolled making you squirm even more. But before either of you could finish you could hear the front door creak open and someone yell.

"I’m home! You guys won’t believe how easy that mission was. Stupid elders made it seem like such a big de-"

As Gojo ranted the both of you jump out of bed. Yuta grabbed all of your clothes and shoved them inside the closet as you fix the bed up. Your heart was racing like crazy as you ran inside the closet pulling Yuta inside too. He looked at you stunned but before he could say anything you closed the door quietly. Turning around you could see how huge the closet was. If you had to compare it to something it would be two dorm rooms combined. The both of you sit in silence as you heard his wonder around the house calling for you guys. You switch the light off as slowly sat on the floor curing Yuta for getting you guys into this mess.

How were you guys supposed to leave? Or make it seem like you guys wernt doing it in his room? Will you guys get suspended?

Your mind was running with hundreds of questions but soon stopped as soon as you felt to hands grasp your waist. You head snapped back as if you were going to be able to see him but all you saw was pitch black. You had no idea how he found you in the dark or how he knew where your hips were. You sat here feeling him push your back against his as he slipped back inside of you. You gasp but he covered your mouth quickly to prevent any noise. Grabbing your legs he listed you up. He moved you up and down like his person cock sleeve as he stood. You sometimes forgot how crazy strong he was.

"He could open this door any minute." He whispered making you tense up.

The room echoed with the faint sound of your skin slapping until Gojo entered his room. That didn’t stop Yuta though and he continued. He kept on going as if you guys wernt about to be caught. Yuutas breaths started to become heavy and so were yours. You throw your head back as you began to orgasm.

"I found you" Gojo says as he opened the closet door.

"…" he stood there stunned looking at Yuta with a odd gaze.

"That’s definitely not your color." Gojo said as he stepped inside to help him out.

Yuta was wearing one of Gojos button up pretending as if he was trying on clothes. You ran out when Gojo was paying attention to only him. As you ran you could feel something running down your legs and you stopped infront of a hallway mirror to see it was semen. The condom must of broken…

Now wasn’t the time to worry about this. You had to leave immediately. Throwing your clothes on you run out the door. Hopefully you were still going to get that extra credit.

Back in Gojos house Yuta was now being styled by Gojo.

"So where is y/n?" He asks as he buttons Yutas shirt up.

"She left before you got here, family emergency." Yuta said dryly.

"That’s weird because I saw her shoes at the front door when I came in. I also saw the condom wrapper you guys left on my nightstand."