#but its going to be a lengthy process for sure

[edenfire]

🌸💙 Persona 3 Ferris Wheel 💙🌸

my ferris wheels finally arrived, so I'm super excited to have them up in my shop!!🥰💗💞

> my shop <

[n4rval]

FUN VALUE 62: The Eccentric Genius

Isn't it odd how firsts are seconds? As in, should we consider the order of exposure by FUN value or follower number? Though I suppose goners are not meant to be linear at all. This is why all of the Followers reiterate that central piece of the story, yet, each of them offer an unique perspective that helps us piece together not only Dr. W.D. Gaster's current condition, but who he is as a character.

No, there is no typical way to look at a character who defies the very notion of a written script. To be atypical among the already strange, to fit right in yet feel so obviously alien, the sole lump of hard coal among shiny gems.

It makes sense why ASGORE took so long to hire a new Royal Scientist.

After all, the old one... Dr. Gaster. What an act to follow!

They say he created the CORE.

Coal that burns the most effectively and brings light to all around him, in more ways than one. Impossible only until someone steps forward and makes it possible, to pursue the most absurd of ideas and be stared at with either unease or awe, to make it an act to follow.

From the occasional inconvenient property damage, the unecessarily bulky gadget that looks like it came straight out of a cartoon ...

... to the grand opening speech nobody got a single word of but applauded for the flashy lights anyway.

However, his life... Was cut short.

One day, he fell into his creation, and...

Will Alphys end up the same way?

This bit can be particularly misleading at first glance, alluding to the idea of an accident or, possibly, a suicide of sorts. We already know how this bit played out, however, the mention of either instance is purposeful in a way the ideas complement each other.

To be special is to be strange, and loneliness is often the price of brilliance. It can be difficult to escape feelings of alienation when people seem to get along so naturally without having to make a conscious effort to understand and be understood. This parallel with Alphys isn't only due to their shared position, but the taxing demand for excellence that comes with it in exchange for belonging.

It wouldn't be a absurd to speculate that, possibly, Alphys would one day have a manic episode that would both be her greatest stunt and her last breath in this earth. Ah, but this is where they deviate, isn't it?

Beloved Dr. Wacky Dingus, too in love with life to leave it, yet never satisfied not to risk it - who continues to offer mystery and wonder, once through light, now through dark.

[evie-sturns]

dinner - Chris Sturniolo

summary: you and your boyfriend chris have just had your one year anniversary, to celebrate chris's family invites you and your parents round for dinner! but when chris gets worked up by your touch he has to take you to the bathroom...

contains: smut, bathroom!sex, semi-public, fluff, teasing, stomach bulge.

--------------------------°°••....••°°--------------———

in honor of chris and i's one year anniversary, his family is deciding to throw a huge dinner party. i'm not too sure if his extended family will be there but my parents and siblings are coming.

"chris?" i call out, spraying my face several times with setting spray after finally finishing my lengthy getting-ready process. i hear his excited footsteps sprinting up the stairs before the bedroom door swings open.

"you look so pretty," chris smiles, walking over to me and wrapping his arms around me.

"oh- chris! careful, i don't want to get makeup on your shirt!" i laugh while chris smooshes my face onto his white shirt from his deadly tight hug.

"right so were gonna go pick up matt and nick- i think everyone else is meeting at mary lou's." i say, pulling away from the hug and grabbing chris's hand.

chris nods before dragging me downstairs, my high heels click against the wooden floors as i adjust the straps of my white sundress.

i turn my phone on do not disturb while unlocking the front door, "how long are we going to be there?" chris asks, stepping out into the afternoon sun.

"only a couple hours, you might get a little bored." i tell chris before jumping into the drivers seat of our car.

"no- i'll be fine," chris defends himself with a sigh.

i look over at him "you okay?" i ask, rubbing his shoulder as i drive down the driveway.

"just.. really fucking nervous" chris laughs.

"chris no. you know my family loves you so much, all your brothers will be there its a happy thing!" i try to lift his enthusiasm with a confident tone.

-

i pull into the driveway of chris's parents house, ever since we picked up matt and nick, chris has cheered up. hes been laughing dramatically while making stupid jokes.

"you guys ready?" i ask with a grin, switching off the car.

"yes ma'am." nick jokes, swinging open the car door and jumping out, matt follows close behind. chris get's out of the car and instantly starts walking up to the front door, i run up behind him.

the front door opens slowly, mary lou's face peeks out and instantly lights up "hello!!" she sings, wrapping her arms around me.

"your children are here too" matt scoffs, she wraps her other arm around matt nick and chris, squeezing us all together. the sweet smell of her floral perfume flooding my nostrils.

"come in! come in." she hurrys us inside, the kitchen has my older brother and younger sister in it, roaming through the pantry. the dining room has tens of adults around all chatting happily around the table.

"look whos here!" jimmy calls out from the dining table, everyones heads snap up to me and chris. dramatic hollers come from the people round the table, chris and i burst into laughter.

“come! come sit” my mother smiles widely, tapping the two seats left for chris and i. i look over at chris and flash him a quick smile before sitting down

chris sits down right next to me, our shoulders brushing briefly.

"its been so long! hows molly?" i ask, molly is my dog. shes getting old but shes my childhood dog.

"oh shes doing great, you know still limping but we took her to the vet a couple weeks ago." my mom replies with a small sigh,

"anyways- and chris! i've missed you darling congratulations on 1 year! hows that youtube going?" she continues, looking up at chris with a wide grin.

"thank you! it's going great thank you, my career now- yeah!" chris speaks, his hands resting comfortably on his lap.

"ahh- youtube i remember when you were just starting a couple years ago!" my dad laughs, before chris and i dated we were friends since high school. my dad always loved chris, he says that chris is a 'sweet boy'.

all heads on the table turn towards mary lou and my cousin james, bringing over several dishes to the table.

"this looks awesome thank you." matt smiles up at mary lou.

i look over at chris, who is now shifting in his seat. he locks eyes with me and instantly breaks eye contact, looking down at his lap.

i serve up some food on my plate,

suddenly i feel chris's hand on my thigh as he talks to one of my cousins, his long fingers trace small circles on my inner thigh under the table.

i stab my fork into the cabbage on my plate, glaring over at chris as he happily chats with various members of my family while his fingers slowly shift up my thigh.

he drags his fingers just under the hem of my dress, i can feel myself growing more sexually frustrated, my panties dampening by the second. his pinky lightly grazes my panties.

"chris." i whisper, he turns to me with an innocent face and a small head tilt.

as soon as he wraps up the conversation with my cousin he leans over, his lips just below my ear before he whispers subtly

"you're gonna excuse yourself to the bathroom and i'm going to meet you there in a minute okay?"

i nod, squeezing my thighs together.

"i'm just going to pop to the bathroom" i smile warmly at my parents like my boyfriend wasn't just teasing me under the table.

i scoot my chair back and stand up, swiftly walking upstairs and taking the first door into the large bathroom.

the walls in chris's parents house are paper thin, last time i was hear i could hear conversations from each bedroom clearly, so now i hear chris making up a lame excuse to meet me up here.

"hey- i don't know if y/n's feeling very well she was nauseous on the way here" he lies through his teeth "i'm going to go check up on her." chris says, i hear his chair shift before footsteps running up here.

he swings open the door with a stupid smile. "yes?" i say with a roll of my eyes.

he walks over to me, grabbing my ass and lifting me up onto the marble countertop. my back presses against the mirror as chris steps between my legs.

I spread my legs apart, causing my dress to ride up my thighs revealing a portion of my panties.

"fucking soaked." chris scoffs, my face flushes as he tugs down my panties to my ankles before putting them in his pocket. he fidgets with the belt of his jeans, letting it drop down followed by his jean.

"if you. make a sound. i will stop completely." chris speaks sternly, i nod, sinking my top teeth into my bottom lip.

"good girl." chris says, rubbing my cheek before lining himself up with me.

he pushes his tip inside of me, observing my face. he slowly gives me more, i shake my head as i press my lips together.

chris is big, its a known fact and it's almost impossible to stay silent when he pounds into me.

"you can take it, i know you can" chris mutters, bottoming out. i arch my back, breathing heavily.

he starts to thrust into me, his hands gripping the plush of my hips. the thrusts grow faster and harder, we both know we don't have all the time in the world so hes desperate to make me cum, and to cum himself.

the angle we're in allows him to repeatedly hit my g-spot.

"fuck!" i moan out, before i can even finish the word chris's hand is plastered over my mouth.

he presses two fingers into my mouth to shut me up.

i whine against his fingers, squeezing my eyes shut as i shift all over the countertop. shortly after my legs start to shake, i feel myself growing so close to my orgasm.

his hand that was on my hip moves to my lower stomach, pressing lightly. i look down, theres a clear stomach bulge.

"you feel me right there sweetheart?" chris breathes, i throw my head back with a frantic nod. he continues to press on my stomach.

i wrap my legs around his back before clenching harshly around him. i squeeze my eyes shut as i fight back all noises that are begging to leave my mouth.

my orgasm crashes over me, chris chuckles lightly before pulling out. he releases into his hand as he throws his head back.

we stay still for a couple seconds, i look down at his hand that he just released in

"gross!" i tease,

"hey it was this or on your dress so i took the practical option." chris replies, i stick up a finger and repeat what he said in a nerdy tone.

i flop down off the countertop, tugging down my dress and reaching into his pocket, digging around for my panties.

i pull them out of his pocket and slide them up my legs, chris washes his hands and redresses himself.

"that was.. hot." i breathe out, unlocking the door to the bathroom.

chris follows close behind me down the stairs, all heads turn to us.

shit. were we too loud?

"oh no! y/n were you sick?" mary lou says with a small pout. i hesitate for a second

"your hair is all messed up and you're absolutely flushed! your red!" my mother adds on,

i look over at chris who has his hands in his pockets awkwardly.

"yeah- i'm sorry guys i threw up in there" i lie with a fake sigh

truthfully, i wasn't sick. i just couldn't tell my whole family that my boyfriend was just balls deep inside of me right upstairs.

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

@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @ecilphttlunar @pkfferoo @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle

[moonstruckme]

oh my god i was hoping u werent sick (no pun intended unless…) of all the doc rem requests!!!

can we get not just a regular doc rem but a casually dominant doc rem. like he’ll make sure ur drinking ur water, fixing ur posture by pulling your shoulders back gently, forcing u to put on a jacket if its just a tad 🤏🏻 bit cold outside

and ofc will scold u (lovingly) in the process. fem!reader is all like 🙄 but loves how much he cares about her

You're a genius for this lovely, thanks for requesting!

cw: alcohol

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 994 words

Your throat’s been bothering you since you woke up. It’s just a little scratchy, barely anything, but it feels like an ill omen. Still, you’re not going to bring your life to a halt on the slim chance the tickle in your throat is going to turn into something worse, and Remus would never hear the end of it if you skipped out on one of Sirius’ things anyway. 

You probably should have abstained from drinking, though. You’ve only had one, but now your throat hurts worse, the music and chatter are too grating, and your head feels a tad fuzzier than it ought to. Sirius and Remus have gone from bickering about music to teaming up against James to bicker about films without your noticing, and now Lily’s offering you another drink and you have to ask her to repeat herself before declining. There’s an inconvenient ache blooming behind your eyes. 

You know you’ve been sussed out when Remus wraps his hands around your hips, pulling you into his lap. 

“You’re quiet,” he murmurs. “Everything alright?” 

“Mhm.” You leave it at that, leaning a back against his chest. 

He hums. “Did you finish your water today?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What have you had to eat?” 

You roll your eyes. Remus knows, somehow. He gives your hip a warning squeeze. 

“Rem, I’m fine.” 

“What have you eaten?”

You tell him, as if he wasn���t there for breakfast and didn’t pack your lunch himself. He nods, reassured you’d finished it all. 

“You seem knackered for only having had one drink,” he observes. 

You shrug. “I’m just not up to more tonight.” 

It’s the wrong thing to say. 

Remus hums, his grip adjusting just slightly to hold you more securely against him. “Are you not feeling well?”

“I’m just a bit tired.” 

“Dove.” Your boyfriend has several tones you know well enough to pick up on a single word. This one is all too familiar. It’s mistrustful, admonishing, heavy with the weight of implied consequence. It says, I know you’re not being fully honest with me. 

James may not pick up on all that, but he recognizes the shift in Remus’ attention, one of your boyfriend’s lengthy hands splaying protectively over your stomach. He sends you an amused look, which you return with a touch of loving pique, and then Remus is turning you around in his lap. 

“Dove,” he says again, breath fanning over your face and eyes boring into yours and overall torturously close to you, “are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?” 

You give up on denials, turning your eyes up to his pleadingly. “It’s really not bad,” you try.

Remus is unmoved. “Tell me, and I’ll say if it’s bad.” 

“I don’t want to make it a thing.” 

“You’re not. Go on.” 

You sigh, squirming under the attention you can feel at your back. Remus’ friends have continued talking, but you know his behavior has caught their attention. “My throat’s just a bit sore,” you admit, “and I guess the alcohol must’ve made it worse.” Remus sets a hand to your forehead, nodding for you to continue. “I feel a bit more affected than I usually would, so I decided to stop. That’s all.” 

“Well, you don’t have a fever.” You release a tiny exhale, and Remus’ lips twitch. “How long has your throat been bothering you, sweetheart?” 

You consider lying, but it’ll only make things worse. “Since this morning.” 

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but your boyfriend’s stare beats that easily. “You ought to have told me,” he says in a low voice. 

“It’s just a sore throat.” You roll your eyes. Remus makes a soft tsking sound that lets you know he’ll remember it. 

“I have you talk to me about these things for a reason,” he says. “Do you know why that is?” 

You’d really rather not enable him, but you’re trapped. You let your expression convey your reluctance. “Why?” 

“Because I’d tell you,” he slips one hand beneath your top, thumb sweeping across your side in the way that softens you like butter, “not to drink when you’re coming down with something.” 

“I don’t know if I am,” you say weakly. 

“Hopefully not.” Remus smears a kiss across your forehead, reaching for his coat. “But if you are, we might still be able to avoid it if you let yourself rest. Y/N’s not feeling well,” he explains to Sirius when the other boy notices his preparations for departure. “I’m going to take her home.” 

“Aw, I didn’t know you were sick,” James covers for his sour friend, who’s still looking like he might protest. 

“I’m not,” you say, but Remus ushers you towards the door. 

Lily gives you a kind look, glancing knowingly towards your boyfriend. “Feel better, love.” 

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he placates his friends, placing his jacket over your shoulders. He opens the door for you, and seems all too prepared for the argument on the tip of your tongue when you step outside. “Don’t take off the jacket. You should have brought your own, but now that you’re sick I don’t want to risk weakening your immune system.” 

“I’m not sick,” you insist, starting to shrug the jacket off despite his hands pinning it to you. “And it’s barely cold out here.” 

Remus levels you with a look. “Keep it on.” 

You huff but stop your attempts to remove the covering, trying not to notice how Remus has slowed his brisk pace to accommodate you. “Why did we have to leave?” you ask. “I’m not feeling that bad, really.” 

“I figured you wouldn't want me looking down your throat with a flashlight in front of everyone.” You purse your lips, and Remus grins, wrapping an arm around you. He rubs your shoulder through the material of his jacket. “I’m looking out for you in more ways than one, dove,” he teases, “you can trust in that.”

[tarjapearce]

HI!! I LOVE YOUR WORKS,, CAN U DO Pornstar miguel fucking his girlfriends tight pussy infront of the cam 😲😍😍😍 ITS DEF IF NOT BUT PLS🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅

breeding, size kink, age dif PLS SHSBJWBW

I did not see this coming omg 😳😳 NSFW undercut

Big and sturdy hands attempted to focus the camera on the frame he actually wanted. Thick, lengthy, lightly curved towards the end, reddish hue tip with a heavy sac cock dangled before the camera as he tried to keep the device still.

"Fuck"

"Love when that happens" sweet voice that appeared in all of his homemade productions, giggled at the comment.

He had a lipstick smear near the base, the shape of your lips around it. Your little laughs could be heard from the back, but then you appeared and kneeled before the camera, lipstick impecable on your lips, Your hands grope your breast as Miguel approached. Another amateur production that would be added to his collection in the company.

A single hand of his, big enough to cover your face, went underneath your chin and cupped your cheeks.

"Open up, sweetie" Your tongue rolled off your mouth at his command. as your eyes stared directly at the camera.

His hand tangled in a fistful of your hair as he turned you in direction of his cock. His free hand guiding himself into your mouth and slowly slid in until your nose rubbed his happy trail. You seemed unbothered. Jaw relaxing as he sloshed in and out of your moist and warm flesh.

"So so good, princesa" He'd purr as his fisted hand kept guiding you on his shaft, to then squeeze your nose shut as he made you deepthroat him first. Redden cheeks turned purple as he fucked your throat between breathless moans and grunts.

He had been training you properly for this video in particular. The reviews from the previous one had that comment that surely busted your ego.

'That mouth can surely do better"

You were settled to shut that critic down. And Miguel was more than happy to comply in your training and now, seeing a cum streak that connected his tip with your meaty mouth and be completely unbothered by it, sliding in your throat once more like none's business, made his chest swell in pride.

"Eso, mi amor " (That's it baby)

He hissed with a lustful grin

He pulled your face before the camera and smeared his cum on your chin and cheeks before kissing you, tasting himself in the process with a satisfied grin. His thumbs splotched the lipstick off your mouth.

You laughed at the fact that finally your gagging reflexes had subsided enough for him to just use your mouth as a toy whenever you felt bratty. A great addition to the videos really.

Miguel would take you by the arm and threw you over his shoulder, rag dolling you. Feet dangling and hovering on the joints of his hip. A firm slap on your butt sent shivers down your thighs. A cue for you to shut your giggling out.

"Sorry, sorry got excited." You mumbled as he plopped some more cushions on the couch. He then threw you in them and you howled in laughter.

"Careful, Miggy"

His hands spreaded you gently like a book. Left thigh close to his chest as the other rested in the couch's armchair. Spreaded, exposed with your hips and legs shaped in an L form.

Puffy outer lips, that he had previously coated with his spit, parted to expose a bit more of your inner folds. He groaned at your awaiting soaked pussy.

"Ready, preciosa?" You nodded as your toes wriggled in anticipation. Teeth biting your lower lip.

"Aquí vamos" (Here we go)

Miguel took the phone, a little rustling as he dragged the tripod closer, making a zoom into your pussy. Pulsating, awaiting to be filled.

"Look at that" His thumb rubbed over your clit, to then place his shaft ontop of your flesh. The tip reached an inch underneath your navel.

You'd giggle at the size comparison.

"The perfect size really"

His hands would rub his tip between your folds, prodding at your clit lazily.

"Love big cocks inside you, princesa?"

"Only yours." He'd kiss you with hunger, tongue teasing before his mouth darted towards your ankle. Hips positioned, the camera focused, your hand hovering onto your lower belly made his cock twitch.

His tip sunk between your awaiting folds that received him with a wet little squish. Mouth gaped as he sheathed in a go, breast bouncing at the choking thrust.

"Yess-" You hissed and sobbed. Pussy stretching at his rock hard girth.

"Ay, Dios mio, muñeca. Mira. Mira, mira." (Oh ny God, doll. Look. take a look)

His voice urged to look at your swollen lower belly, full of him, bulging as he kept sheathing himself inside you.

"Feels good? Yeah?"

Your eyebrows knitted together, eyes drooped, drowning in need. You nodded with your bottom lip still caught in your teeth.

"So so good, Miggy. Just like tha-"

Another core shaking thrust. Your breath shook and toes curled in.

"So so eager." He cooed while dragging his cock out, glistening in your moist, his hand tilted the camera so it could take a better angle of how his cock left your pussy gaping. Your entrance squelching as he retired himself completely off you, only to ram back his hips immediately . Shaft buried balls deep in your tight little hole.

"Miguel!" You whined and his hips rolled, tip drawing tiny circles in your cervix. Your head was thrown back and he reached for your neck, squeezing your flesh on the spot. His hand covered completely your neck, dressing it up with his fingers. Air slowly leaving your mouth.

"You like that don't you?"

His pace quickened, and your hands went to his wrist that only applied more pressure on your neck, enough for you to give small short breaths and not cut the air completely. Your nods weak.

"Fucking slut, always greedy for my cock."

Your whole body shook with every plunge he did. Much to your dismay his other hand took a hold of the front strands of your hair and held you both still by the hair and neck as he moved into a brutal pace.

"Always teasing with this tight pussy..."

Your videos weren't for the vanilla coded. In fact it was the main warning in every little intro of them.

"Fucking make it hurt, Miggy" You had begged in between breathless chokes.

He growled. Oh, how you loved when it hurted so good. The kind of pain that always gave you the most intense orgasms with him.

The slapping on your flogged skin turned rawer and meaner, you growled. Sweat rolled down his chest and back, flesh flushed from the exertion. Your insides trapped him, constricting him in a Singapur Kiss. You just took him, mouth hung open, gaping in an o shape as he rawed you silly.

He'd moan shakily at the intensity of your tightening walls. You squirmed and wheezed underneath him.

"Dámelo, muñeca " (Give it to Me baby)

You shook your head vehemently, your hands still on his wrist, nails prickling his skin, trying to get more air in your lungs

"No?" He squeezed harder on your neck earning a weakened yelp. Your hands flailed and slapped his hand away, or at least tried to. Your hips bounced on his cock uncontrollably. There was no longer grunts or yelps, just little choked and stifled sobs, a vice like grip from your insides on his cock.

"¿Lo quieres dentro?" (You want it inside? )

Again your head shook as the remnants of sanity were ripped out of you.

"The fuck you mean no?" He shook you by the neck, it gave him a little wail from you.

Your small frame wringed with sweat, makeup smeared, and such a debauched face that made his wicked grin widen.

"Adentro será." (Inside shall be)

You whimpered a plea that he ignored. Of course you wanted it inside. His load always sizzled your spasming walls deliciously

He had to take a hold of your hips as you came. Gushing enough to bath his cock and lower abdomen with your cum. You had screamed, althout weakly, at the sensation. Body convulsing violently underneath his hands. Voice scrapped raw as your legs shook like jelly.

He had groaned your name as he kept spilling. Short elaborated breaths fanning your neck.

Itt was too much. Too fucking much and too good for you. You felt so full, that every time he unsheathed himself from you, you felt empty.

His hands grope you tighter as he gave the last few most powerful thrust you had received so far before going limp ontop of you as his seed remodeled your insides white.

"Such a good girl"

He mumbled as you wheezed, panted and giggled. His cock slowly leaving you, he then took the camera and zoomed in at the creampie he just did.

"¿Estás bien, chula?" (You ok?)

You just gave him a two thumbs up and giggled. Too sore to try and speak

"Ready for round two?" You only groaned. A bruise underneath your chin forming as he laughed.

[carionto]

So, uhh, Humans did what they called an "oopsie"

They can turn off stars.

When they elaborated on how their reactors work - true nuclear fusion - they also explained, before the delegates passed out, that their failsafes include high density convection inhibitor rods that shoot out if the power output exceeds what it is currently set to. Except if a manual Overload protocol is engaged. You know, in case they need to go to 400% power. At the risk of blowing up everything. Psychopaths.

Then one of them had an idea. Another phrase the Galaxy must learn to look out for and try to persuade the human who uttered it to not do the idea. They'll still do it, of course, Humans are stubborn like that.

So, some of their ships can transform and double as Warp Gates. Truly fascinating technology, capable only through their absurd energy generation methods and reckless disregard for how the Universe works. They even gave us the blueprints. We thanked them, politely, but we'll have to figure out a safe way to do it first.

Currently their Warp Gates can only make a stable connection to the gravitational center of a large celestial body. As in - stars. Their reactors house miniature stars. They turn those off shockingly regularly for maintenance. One of the few things most of the Galaxy is better than Humanity is making things that don't break themselves through normal operation, but then what's "normal" for them is "excessively insane" to us.

This Human wanted to see what would happen if they sent a big pile of their convection inhibitor rods through a Warp Gate. "Fuck around and find out" is the expression they used, if we are recalling the words correctly.

Well, everyone "found out" that, yes, it actually works, and surprisingly quickly too. The chosen star was a distant Red Dwarf with only uninhabitable planetoids and some asteroid belts and no recorded stations within the system. It took about a week for the first signs of decreased activity to become barely noticeable. It hasn't been long enough to fully end the fusion cycle, but all observations point to the Red Dwarf becoming the first of its kind to retain enough hydrogen to do... we're actually not sure how that will unfold over the coming few million years.

Thankfully, the Human who had the idea was disappointed the star didn't just poof like their contained reactor ones do. The material cost and lengthy process also made it clear it has no real practical application.

Still, technically they can prematurely begin the end cycle of a stars lifespan.

Those of us with more active imaginations might find it hard to sleep at night knowing that, clearly, no Human idea will be left untested...

Oh FUCK! What if th- No. When they fine tune their Warp Gates, could they just send anything anywhere? We're screwed if Humanity ever gets angry.

[choppedbouquetswhisperedsecrets]

~Caught red handed~

[Part one]

Pairing – Theodore Nott x fem!Gryffindor!reader

Summary – y/n acts as cupid for her friend (which means risking her life or worse getting expelled), but what happens when nothing goes according to plan?

Word Count – 3,478

Warnings – (nothing serious) fluff, swearing (if you count idiot), very lengthy, pangs of jealousy, miscommunication

A/N – this is my first one yet, and I wrote this cos I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s hopelessly crushing over our boi Theo. I hope you enjoy! (Even though its sooo long) Love you lots <3

You hear your heavy breaths underneath Harry’s Cloak of invisibility as you stand silently in place, waiting for someone to come. The dungeons aren’t the brightest of places and it isn’t the most comfortable either. Underneath the cloak, you start to feel yourself sweat, when a bunch of students in Slytherin uniform stop in front of a wall and, giving the pass code, the entrance is opened. Before it’s too late, you scurry after them, making sure not to make a sound. 

You don’t know how well Harry’s cloak works. But this, as Sophie claims, was the only way she could truly show Mattheo Riddle to what extent she was going, to show how much she liked him. And that included having to sneak into the Slytherin common hall. Trust Sophie to chicken out and bribe you with chocolate to get you to do her bidding. Of course you refused her at first- you couldn’t risk an expulsion. But then she got Ginny in on it, and here you are: sweating and exhausted, wrapped in Harry’s cloak and not to forget, the letter Sophie wrote for her “one true love” weighing in your hand.

Following the students into the hall, you muse to yourself that if you succeed in this mission without getting caught, maybe you could become a spy in the future. You chuckle softly, when a small gasp escapes your lips as you take in the sight of the hall. A formal and elegant ambiance fills the place while streaks of green and silver run everywhere: from the curtains to the furniture, along with the carpets and tapestries. Silver chandeliers hang from the ceiling and even though it’s dim and creepy, it’s cozier than it looks.

You carefully navigate through students who come your way as you make sure not to bump into anyone, walking slowly. You scan the place for the boy’s dorm and see a few Slytherin guys walk out from an entrance to the right. Amidst your gut telling you to stop and just run back out, you walk ahead, convincing yourself it’ll be over soon.

You mumble the room number repeatedly under your breath as you search for Mattheo’s room, almost giving away your presence once or twice. Finally, you reach the idiot’s room and thankfully the door isn’t locked. You manage to squeeze through the small door gap and seeing that nobody is around, you can finally take off the cloak, even if it’s a little bit.

You take deep and relaxing breaths before you’re about to place the card on the bedside table, when you hear someone enter and the door close behind you. You quickly turn and your eyes widen in horror as you remember you didn’t cover yourself yet.

Guess spy work isn’t for me.

Your eyes lock with a set of green ones belonging to a charmingly handsome guy. He looks as perplexed as you, but there’s a hint of amusement on his face and his lips crack into a smirk.

‘This is new,’ the green eyed guy says as he leans against his bed frame, hands crossed. ‘I wasn’t expecting a girl to be in my room, let alone a…Gryffindor.’ He raises an eyebrow and grins.

Your palms are forming pools of sweat and it feels like as if you’ve completely froze, not being able to move or say a word. Is this Mattheo??

‘I-I was only meaning to….’ You start, but what can you say? You were doomed, by Merlin’s beard. You swallow hard, trying to process what to do as you clutch the letter tighter. The guy comes closer to you, where you can smell his citrusy scent at the back of your throat.

‘Yes? Merlin got your tongue?’ he chuckles at his own joke and the sound of him laughing does something weird to your stomach. ‘No, I was only…I’m here to give something to someone,’ you manage to blurt out. The guy looks carefully at you and his eyes trail down to the letter in your hand. With a coy look on his face, he goes ‘Is that-’

‘Just read it!’ you yell abruptly, interrupting him as you shove the letter into his chest, earning a slight groan from the guy. You quickly cover yourself with the cloak again and rush out, ignoring his calls for you.

…..

‘You’re the best, y/n!’ Sophie squeals as she hugs you. Ginny is sitting on her bed, shaking her head in disbelief as she tucks away Harry’s cloak of Invisibility. ‘You actually did it,’ she says and grins. You fall to your bed, sighing and throw a pillow at Ginny. ‘Of course I did. Except-’

You relate the little incident you had with the guy and wince as you think back to it. ‘You don’t think he’ll report me, do you?’ you ask your friends. Sophie confidently answers in the negative. ‘He’s a Slytherin; if there’s anything he likes, its rule breaking and trouble. Besides, Mattheo isn’t the type to snitch,’ Sophie says and dreamily sighs as she falls back down on her bed.

‘His green eyes were mesmerizing for sure,’ you add and chuckle, but a confused Sophie interrupts you. ‘Green eyes? Mattheo has brown eyes, y/n,’ she says and suddenly her eyes widen as she pieces two and two together. ‘Wait, y/n, who did you give the letter to?!’ Sophie wails as you bring your hands to your mouth, aghast. You see Ginny thinking hard.

‘Green eyes…don’t tell me you gave that letter to Theodore Nott, y/n,’ Ginny says, causing Sophie to go into another fit. You feel your insides twist and you wince as you look at Sophie. ‘What are we supposed to do?’ you hear yourself asking. Sophie looks accusingly at you. ‘You are going to get that letter back-‘

‘I’m sorry, Soph, but I’m not returning to that place again,’ you snap, shaking your head. ‘This wouldn’t have happened if you just gave the letter directly to Mattheo.’ You reason with her, angry, but become filled with guilt when you see her pouting. ‘But, if it’s any consolidation, I’ll get the letter back if you’d like,’ I give in with a sigh. Sophie’s face lights up and she nods like a puppy. ‘That’d be great!’ she says and you groan, before landing face down on your bed.

Godric knows what you’ve got yourself into.

…..

He’s supposed to be here.

You’re scanning through the flock of students that pour out of Professor Snape’s class, searching for Theodore Nott. He should have been out by now, since he has to catch Transfiguration next. You know this because you’re supposed to be there too, and you’re running out of time. You frown as it starts getting awkward, with the students giving you looks as they walk past you wondering what you’re doing.

When you approach the classroom a little closer, your eyes land on a tall figure standing in front of Professor Snape, who looks like he’s lecturing whoever it is in front of him. You realize its Theodore and can’t help but wonder what happened.

The look on Theodore’s face is amusing enough for you to crack a wide grin, which catches his wandering eyes. He quickly glances at you and raises an eyebrow. However, this causes Professor Snape to pinch his ear. You wince as Professor Snape twists Theo’s ear. ‘Are you even listening to me, Mr. Nott?’ Professor’s voice booms while Theo is wincing in pain, but suppressing a shameless smile nonetheless.

Professor Snape follows where Theo was looking before and he sees you. You’re startled of course, but you can’t do anything, so you just stand there, while Prof. Snape walks to you at the entrance of the class. ‘Is there anything I can help you with, Miss y/l/n?’ You hear the Professor ask as your brain tries to come up with an excuse. ‘Prof-Professor McGonagall requests Mr. Nott’s presence,’ you blurt out a lie and your heartbeat increases as Professor Snape eyes you up and down with a scowl.

‘Alright.’ He finally says and turns his back on you, as you let out a breath of relief. ‘Professor McGonagall is asking for you, Mr. Nott,’ the Professor says. ‘I will allow you to go this time, but don’t let me catch you sleeping in class again,’ he adds sternly before Theodore apologizes and heads out with his books.

‘Professor McGonagall isn’t asking for me, is she?’ Theodore asks, smirking at you after you’ve lead the two of you to a more secluded spot. You shake your head embarrassingly as you tighten your grip on your books. ‘Godric knows he’ll be fuming if he finds out you lied to him,’ Theo adds and chuckles lightly.

‘It’s about yesterday…’ you start, and Theo’s face light up. ‘Ah, yes, I remember. Don’t worry,’ he says with a wink. ‘I have the letter with me. Who knew someone could be so madly in love?’ you hear him chuckle. ‘That’s the problem: it’s not for you,’ you break it to him and his face relaxes into a coy one. ‘I figured. Like I said, don’t worry, I handed it to Mattheo,’ Theo assures as you release a breath.

‘Thank you,’ you mumble and Theo nods. ‘I was supposed to give it to him, but I got…let’s say confused, when I saw you, so,’ you explain and Theo smiles. ‘I understand,’ he says and suddenly silence fills the atmosphere as you realize you’re staring into his pretty green eyes again. You shake your head and snap out of it as you remember your next class.

‘Merlin! I’ve got Transfigurations,’ you say and watch as Theo’s face turns into realization. ‘Me too. Want to walk together?’ He asks, rubbing his nape. ‘We are going to the same class after all.’ He shrugs and you nod. ‘I don’t think we’ve properly introduced each other. I’m Theodore Nott,’ he greets. ‘I know,’ you say abruptly, realizing there’s a smirk on his face. ‘I mean, we’re in the same class. But I’m y/n y/l/n,’ you give a small smile. ‘I know,’ you hear Theo say and raise an eyebrow. ‘Let me guess, we’re in the same class?’ you ask with a smirk and he nods. ‘You got me,’ he chuckles.

‘You know, I’m curious as to how one doesn’t remember their crush’s face,’ Theo asks as the two of you head to class. You glance at him just in time to see his toothy smile, eyes closed and head shaking in disbelief. You catch yourself smiling and quickly give yourself a mental slap.

‘I don’t like Mattheo,’ you explain, clutching your books closer to your chest. ‘I was helping a friend, who was too chicken to do anything,’ you say the last part in a bitter way, remembering Sophie as you roll your eyes. ‘You didn’t write that letter for Riddle?’ Theo asks, sounding surprised and a slight hint of relief. You look at him and shake your head. ‘Not at all,’ you say in disbelief. ‘Mattheo is the last person I would ever like.’ You catch a subtle frown on Theo’s face.

‘Because he’s a Slytherin?’ He asks, much to your surprise. You’re left thinking but just shrug. ‘That, and other things.’ You nod. ‘What other things?’ Theo asks, making him look suspicious to you but you just comply. ‘Well, for one, I don’t know him,’ you say, tucking away a strand of hair and clutching your books to your side. Theo nods and goes silent. ‘Do you have someone you like?’

Your neck snaps at Theo when he asks the question. ‘What?’ He shrugs and you see a grin on his face, looking innocent. Your eyes narrow a bit comically. ‘You’re being suspicious, Nott,’ you joke. ‘Besides, why would I tell you if I had a crush or not?’ you keep up with the sassy attitude and even walk a bit with your nose held high. But you break character next second and go into fits of laughter as Theo chuckles with you.

‘Don’t get me wrong; I was only asking to...you know...make small talk,’ Theo says and you can’t help but notice a shadow pass through his eyes. Could it be…? You shake your head even thinking of it. The two of you barely know each other; how can you expect Theodore to have something for you? You almost laugh out loud.

‘I know, I know, I was just kidding,’ you say instead and grin at him. ‘We need to pick up the pace; time’s ticking,’ you raise your eyebrows as you motion to your wrist like a watch.

‘We won’t reach there on time, not unless we…’ Theo trails off and you feel a smirk forming on your face. ‘I’m not a track champion for no reason,’ you challenge and suddenly the two of you are running to class, sprinting past students and across corridors, thankfully reaching on time, although tired and panting.

‘First,’ Theo says as he looks down at you, and you shake your head. ‘You wish, Nott. I reached sooner,’ you say and your Professor puts an end to your bickering by calling the two of you in as the class looks on. Soon you’re sitting in your usual seat next to Ginny, who’s giving you a weird look after seeing you come in with Theodore.

‘What was that about?’ Ginny whispers as you try to focus on the lesson at hand. ‘What was what?’ you pretend not to understand what she asks, and hear her eyes practically roll. ‘Don’t act dumb, y/n. You and Nott, of course.’

‘I cleared the misunderstanding, that’s all,’ you huff in response. Why did she have to be so nosy? ‘And now you’re friends?’ Ginny continues pestering you. ‘No,’ you whisper, but loud enough that you get a few weird stares from some students, even Theo, who shoots you a smile from his seat. ‘Yeah, not friends. Understood,’ Ginny smirks and finally leaves you alone as you roll your eyes and sigh in defeat.

‘He is cute,’ you hear Ginny creep up to your ears after a few minutes, and almost hit her hard enough to send her to Godric’s Hallow. ‘Ginny!’ you whisper-shout and glare at her but she just shrugs. ‘I’m just saying,’ she defends and you shake your head as you get back to your worksheet. ‘I wouldn’t be so friendly with him though; he’s bad news,’ Ginny adds. ‘Oh well, at least he has a girlfriend, so I know he’s not trying to get his hands all over you, break your heart or something.’ You only roll your eyes at her but the girlfriend part piques your interest and you can’t help but ask, ‘He does?’ Ginny nods.

‘Well, obviously. He’s always surrounded by a crowd of fan girls wherever he goes,’ Ginny mentions casually. ‘But remember,’ she points with a finger to her temple. ‘Bad news.’  For some strange reason, you feel a pit open in your stomach, as you glance at Theo but catch him already staring. Your eyes widen a bit, and Theo smirks.

What happened? He wiggles his eyebrows and you shake your head. Done? He holds up his worksheet and you glance down at yours, before shaking your head again. He chuckles softly and just then, before you’re able to finish your work, the bell rings, indicating lunch.

You arrange your books as your Professor gives the closing remarks and this time you head to the dining hall with Ginny, catching up with Sophie and the others, while Theodore is with his friends. At the hall, you sit down at the Gryffindor table, where Sophie impatiently pulls you down before you’re fully seated.

‘Ow!’ you yelp as Sophie tugs at your sleeve and looks over at Theodore, next to him is seated Mattheo. ‘I trust the problem is solved?’ she asks and you nod, wincing as you rub your arm. ‘Good. What’s up with you and Nott though?’ Sophie asks as she resumes eating.

‘What’s wrong? Does it look like something happened? Why are you asking?’ You question frantically. ‘No, nothing happened. Why are you so worked up? Calm down; I’m only asking because he keeps looking this way,’ Sophie points with a chicken leg at the Slytherin table, where you look over. Sure enough, you catch Theo staring at you with a small smile. He wiggles his eyebrows again, and you return a small smile.

‘See, something is definitely going on between the two of you, but you’re not telling us,’ Sophie accuses and you only roll your eyes. ‘If I were you, I’d be a little careful around that one, y/n,’ Sophie whispers and you glare at her as she shrugs innocently. ‘What is y/n not telling us?’ Ron suddenly asks, mouth half filled with food. ‘Gross, Ron. Atleast swallow your food and then talk,’ Ginny grumbles but Ron ignores his sister.

‘Did you put my cloak to good use?’ Harry asks, as you sheepishly look at him and remember what you used his cloak for. You nod. ‘I never did ask you what you wanted Harry’s cloak for,’ Ron says casually, picking at a piece of his food, which catches you off guard.

‘Uh…i…I used it for…’ you look at Sophie and Ginny for help, since they were the main culprits. You didn’t specifically tell Harry what you were going to use the cloak for but made sure to add ‘for educational purposes’. Besides, the whole table knew about Sophie’s crush on Mattheo, but you were sure fewer people would be willing to help them get together, even people like Harry.

‘It was a little prank, no worries,’ Sophie shrugs and you awkwardly agree with her, Harry and Ron thankfully getting off of your back. But Hermione has new suspicions. ‘Was it you at the library the other day? The one who kept knocking down books to annoy me?’ She narrows her eyes down at you and you shake your head quickly, wondering what you did to ever deserve this much trouble.

‘What happened?’ Ron asks, thankfully diverting the attention, making Hermione launch into her woeful tale of how she couldn’t concentrate in the library the other day when someone kept knocking books over and over again. ‘I kept placing the books back in their shelves but got frustrated in the end,’ your ears caught Hermione saying, but your eyes kept hovering over to Theodore. What if he was staring again?

Right now, he was chuckling with his friends, their laughter echoing in the Great Hall despite the constant chattering of other students. You can’t help but feel a faint smile on your lips as you see him so happy.

‘Y/n?’ you feel someone nudge you and you suddenly get back to your senses. ‘Wow, you guys hate me so much for liking Mattheo, but looks like we have to worry about one more Gryffindor falling for a Slytherin,’ Sophie says and avoids your eyes, while you look at her aghast.

‘I do not like Theodore Nott,’ you state sternly. ‘She never said you did,’ Ginny butts in and your neck snaps at her, glaring. ‘You did walk in with Nott for Transfigurations, didn’t you?’ Hermione asks and you look at her desperately. ‘Maybe something is going on between the two of you,’ Hermione says so seriously you want to bury yourself and die.

‘Guys, that is only a one time occurrence,’ you blurt out. ‘It’s not going to happen often. I just had to take care of something.’ You go back to eating your food silently, but feel your body temperature rise inside. ‘Did the cloak have something to do with him?’ Harry abruptly asks. Having had enough, you stand up, and excuse yourself before walking out.

You’re strolling around in the corridors, wondering where you should go, when you hear your name being called. ‘Y/n!’ Your eyes roll as you wonder if it’s Ginny or Sophie, trying to catch up with you. But as the person gets nearer, you hear it’s a deeper voice than your girlfriends. ‘Y/n,’ the voice calls out again, right behind you this time and sounding breathless.

‘Nott?’ you turn back and see a panting Theodore, catching his breath. He gives a small smile as he pants. ‘I was wondering...if you’d like to catch up on Transfigurations at the library?’ he asks. You frown a little; you were hoping it would be for something else. Something more casual than studying.

But you just smile. Because, strangely, your gut was telling you to go with it. If it was with Theodore, you were up for anything. Even studying. ‘That would be nice; maybe I can finish my worksheets then,’ you say with a nod. Nott smiles adoringly. ‘Great. See you in five?’ he asks and you nod again, before he leaves you to collect his books.

A/N: guys, I’ve realized this is way too long to begin with :[ So bad news is im ending it here, but good news is there’s part two!! So if you wanna read part two, please be patient! I’ll definitely post it :) Thanks for understanding! <3

PS: part two is out!!

[poppy-metal]

fake dating au jordan when you reveal your feelings to them for the first time….!!!!!!! you’re starting to have a harder time keeping your feelings for them a secret because everything is starting to feel so so real. after one too many drinks at a party you end up leaving them a lengthy voicemail where the “i love you” just slips out, but jordan’s so nervous to let somebody in and get too close. they wanna love you the way you deserve but they’re so scared to lose you :(

stop the potential angst,,,,, because they dont acknowledge it. and your memory is fuzzy and you dont know if its a dream or if it actually happened, and you're going a little insane not knowing if you spilled your guts or not and jordan is as cool as ever. then that starts to hurt, because you're becoming more sure it was real, you did drunkenly confess your love, and they just dont care. or they're letting you down easy. so you start to stew and get quiet. by the time you're alone with jordan you're a ball of nerves and you just - throw yourself on their bed dramatically.

"god, just do it!!" you moan into their pillows. they have the softest fucking pillows. "reject me so i can kill myself and move on."

jordan just slowly toes off their shoes, takes their time putting their keys up, shouldering their jacket off. the bed dips as they sit above you against the headboard.

"I'm not rejecting you, you fucking weirdo." they knock their knee against your head. "come up here and talk to me. you've been pouting all day and its fucking with me."

you crawl over to them, but stop short to burry your head in their stomach, wrap around them like a koala - or a sloth. some cute creature that seeks and needs warmth.

"m'not pouting." you pout.

you feel their hand drop down on top of your head, ringed fingers carding through your hair softly. "so," they start. "someone got a little drunk last night."

you groan. "god. do we need to talk about it? i already said everything.... and you didn't. didn't call me back. or mention it all day. so its fine. lets just forget it."

they tug on your hair, you wince, they have it fisted enough to pull your head up so they can look at you.

"you fucking dropped an 'i love you' on me, dude. i needed time to process that shit." their pearl chain necklace shifts as they play with it, "I'm not fucking rejecting you though, so calm the fuck down."

they press their thumb to your bottom lip, till it drops open for them, "stop pouting."

you pout more. "so. you're not leaving me?"

rolled eyes. "no." but then they look down at you, serious. "i dont - i dont know how I feel about you. but you're not someone i can just toss aside like nothing. you're important to me. okay?"

it does sting a little, to not hear the words back but you know jordan is scared. love is a big deal for them - its not something they can just hand out. you know you're already more important to them than any other situationship they've had before.

"okay." you tell them.

[autumnmobile12]

Hisashi Midoriya Does Not Exist

I’m officially calling it.

We’ve seen no photos or flashbacks of the man.

Inko is the only character to mention him and only does so once during a flashback from when Izuku was a toddler. Deku does not talk about his father, so either he doesn't remember him all that well or...seriously, not even a happy birthday, Happy New Year, congrats on getting into UA, etc call?

He hasn’t had any input about this hero career his son is taking on even though it's proven to be increasingly more dangerous as the situation unfolds.

He has not visited once during one of Deku’s many hospital stays, including the one where he was comatose and people weren’t sure if he was coming out of it or not.

Izuku straight up went missing for a time and Hisashi didn't return to be there for his wife, who was definitely freaking out over their missing son.

And now with Japan in total chaos, he did not returned home to be there for his family pre-Final War nor was there ever a point where he attempted to get them out of Japan for their own safety. This seems like it would have been a good time to mention a panicked father phone call. Japan closed its borders to contain said chaos. Was that not a concern for expatriates who have family back home?

So either he is the worst dad/husband in the series, a series that already has a pretty high bar as far as worst dads go, or he doesn't exist. I think Horikoshi forgot he said he was going to reveal him, and is it even worth revealing him at this point? We're coming up on the end of this ride unless there's a whole other lengthy post-finale arc we're getting in which we see the full step-by-step recovery process of society and what to do about the remaining LoV members, provided they even survive this. (Bit anti-climatic, but there's still a lot to wrap up, I guess.)

I understand if the guy just wasn't all that necessary to the story, but why not just have him be a character who passed away before the plot began? Widowed Inko and be done with it.

...

Still, if he doesn't exist, who's Deku's dad? Inko didn't do this herself.

Or maybe she did and all hail the real Freckled Jesus.

Sorry Marco. (<--That meme is so old, I'd half-forgotten about it.)

Anyway, the only information we really have on 'Hisashi Midoriya' is that he has a fire-type Quirk and he's allegedly working overseas.

So on to the insane theory that occasionally haunts my brain. It doesn't just live rent free here, it is a registered ghost that hangs out.

Due to the fire-based Quirk (yes, I know Hisashi is listed as having a 'fire-breathing' Quirk, but then we're just splitting hairs,) I personally think Horikoshi is lining up a shot that will nuke the Shouto/Deku ship by revealing Endeavor was Deku’s father all along for no other reason than to troll both the fandom and his own characters.

...

I also kinda just picture the rest of the Todoroki family, including satanic charcoal Dabi, with this reaction:

So much for that redemption arc.

The only thing I don't like about this is knowingly sleeping with a married man is not a good look for Inko's character.

Okay, that's not the only thing I don't like about it. I would be disturbed if this was the plot twist. Please don't.

[odyssean-flower]

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 2 - Spring: Three Meetings and a Proposal

Masterpost Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: Somehow, you keep running into Neuvillette. When something unexpected happens, he offers you an unexpected proposal. Warnings: None except for restrictive gender roles, also for some reason Fontaine’s regency england (sort of) now? Note: I update this story on AO3 first so please go over there if you'd like to read it faster

Have a picture of neuvillette standing next to the skull of Oroboshi

Previous | Next

A month had passed since that unexpected encounter. You hadn’t told anyone about it, because it felt unreal even to you. Maybe you really had drank too much champagne.

In any case, the events of the ball were quickly forgotten amidst the immense preparations you had to do to obtain your governess license. It was a long, grueling process that involved leaving your hometown and moving all the way to the city, but it was about to bear fruit at last. After one last history exam, you would finally obtain your license and be able to advertise your services in the newspapers and bulletin boards.

And then, you would finally be blissfully freed from all those marriage-hunting obligations. No more balls, no more disappointments...

It was those thoughts that kept you going as you stared at the tiny words in your history textbook while being surrounded by people who seemed determined to scream their lungs out today.

“Get him, get him!” your sweet, adorable sister shouted next to you.

“Send him to jail!” her new beau also shouted from next to her. I’m pretty sure one can’t be sent to jail for hoarding ashtrays, you thought, but said nothing. He probably couldn’t even hear you, anyways.

Today, you were forced to chaperone your sister and the viscount’s son on their “romantic engagement.” Said “romantic engagement” happened to be attending a trial at the Opera Epiclese. Apparently, this was a popular date spot for young couples. It was things like these that made you feel dreadfully old and out of touch sometimes.

The seats were packed for today’s trial, for good reason. This trial was just one part of a lengthy divorce proceeding between a celebrity couple, in which they were trying to figure out how to divide their many, many assets. It was akin to a serial and even had its own dedicated column in the newspapers.

You glanced over at your sister and the young lord. They were whispering together and giggling. Even though the viscount’s son seemed a bit, for the lack of a better word, dopey, from your short interactions with him you could tell that he was a good-hearted and generous young man. Plus, there was a certain charm in watching him and your sister getting closer, the same feeling one would get from observing two cute puppies playing together. Perhaps your mother would live to see one of her daughters get married after all.

You looked back down at your book. You were on the chapter about Remuria, one of your favorite subjects. You loved reading about that long-deceased God King and his drowned empire of music. You knew that there were extensive ruins from that period near the town of Petrichor, but it was much too far and dangerous (without shelling out the exorbitant amounts of money for protection) to go there from the Court of Fontaine, so you could only ever dream of visiting there.

The cacophony faded into the background as you became engrossed in the topic.

It felt like no time had passed before you felt your sister shake your arm. “Sister, Sister! The trial’s over! Let’s go.”

You looked up to see people walking past you towards the exit. Judging from their chatter, the wife seemed to have won. What she was going to do with a vault of ashtrays, you had no idea.

You snapped your book closed and followed everyone else out. “I don’t know how you can read that boring book when there’s such an exciting show going on,” the viscount’s son commented, eyeing the thick textbook.

“Oh, that’s one of Sister’s special powers! The ability to read anywhere, no matter how loud or unsuitable the place is. I don’t know how she does it,” your sister chimed in.

“You can learn it too, you know, if you apply yourself to it,” you informed her.

“Ugh, you’re already talking like a governess,” your sister pouted.

“A governess? You want to be that?” the viscount’s son said, sounding incredulous. Seriously, why does everyone sound so shocked when they hear about it? “I had a governess once. She was always alone and wasn’t even allowed to eat with the family. Seems like a rather miserable job if you asked me.”

“Yeah, that’s what I told her, but she won’t change her mind! She kept talking about how it’s ‘her role in life’ and her ‘fate.’”

You tuned the two out. You had heard variations of this conversation too many times over the years.

Once the three of you reached the main hall, the darling couple decided to go get some refreshments while waiting for the rain to subside. You decided to sit on one of the comfy stuffed couches under the stairs and resume your studying.

The words on the pages flowed into your brain. Remus...Sybilla...harmosts... what would it be like to live in that era? Or at least, to walk the places where these words were once part of everyday life? To touch the artifacts—the once-cherished, once-used items—of the people from back then?

You shook your head. Sometimes, your mind would drift to things that weren’t anywhere on the horizon of your life, just like how you would sometimes indulge yourself by reading romance novels and light novels from Inazuma. No, you needed to hone your mind and focus on your reality. You were in no position to move off your pre-determined path. You needed to think about how you were going to teach these concepts to children—

“Good day to you, Miss [Name].”

You nearly jumped at that voice. A very familiar voice. Knowing who you were going to see, you stood up with your head bowed.

“Good day to you, Monsieur Neuvillette.”

You lifted your head. The man himself was standing in front of you. You had only ever seen his face in the papers and only met him once (in the dark, no less), but you thought he seemed a bit fatigued. You couldn’t blame him, though. You were sure you would feel the same if you had to preside over such a ridiculous series of trials.

“I do apologize for disturbing you,” Neuvillette immediately said upon seeing your face. Maybe your poker face wasn’t as good as you thought.

“It’s alright, Monsieur. I don’t mind.” You tried your best to sound like you meant it.

“May I sit down?” Neuvillette said after a pause. You nodded, and he proceeded to sit next to you. You moved all the way to the other end of the couch. It didn’t seem like anyone had noticed you two, considering how this couch was somewhat hidden away from sight, but you couldn’t take any chances. A governess’s job prospects hinged on having a spotless reputation, after all.

“Are you here with someone?” Neuvillette asked.

“Yes, Monsieur. I’m chaperoning my sister, who has been invited on a date here.”

Speaking of your sister, you glanced out of the corner of your eye to see how the two lovebirds were faring. They were currently in the process of choosing from a large menu, giggling and nudging each other as they did so. They probably weren’t going to be finished any time soon.

“Date...” Neuvillette mused. “Yes, I’ve heard that it has become quite a trend among young people to have romantic engagements at the Opera. I must admit, I don’t quite approve of having the sanctity of trials be used for such purposes.”

“I agree,” you nodded. “Although since trials are already spectacles, I suppose this isn’t so preposterous.”

“You certainly don’t mince words, Miss [Name].” there was an amused note in his voice. All you could do was shrug and smile. It wasn’t like you could refute him.

Another awkward silence. Maybe you had offended him with your comment? You didn’t really know why he would be offended though, considering that trials in Fontaine were like performances.

“What did you think of the trial, Miss [Name]?”

You had to think about it for a minute. It felt like you were being quizzed on something you hadn’t studied for. “I think they are both idiots, Monsieur. They would save everyone’s time by dueling it out between themselves.”

Neuvillette blinked for a minute, and then a small laugh slipped out his mouth. You took that to mean that he agreed with you.

His lilac eyes moved to the thick textbook in your hand, seeing it closely for the first time. His brow furrowed. “Were you reading that during the trial?”

Under his puzzled gaze, you felt like you had done something wrong. “Um, yes. Not out of disrespect for the proceedings, I assure you, Monsieur. But I have an important exam for my governess license coming up, so I need to grab any chance I have to study for it.”

“Studying in such a chaotic environment... you’re very dedicated to your goal. I can think of a few people who might be able to learn from you.”

You didn’t hear any sarcasm in his voice. He sounded genuinely impressed. You felt your shoulders relax. It had become an unfortunate tendency of yours to become defensive when you talked about these things. “Thank you, Monsieur.”

“What are you studying?” He leaned closer to you. How long is he going to stay here?

“History, Monsieur. I was reading about the older periods of Fontainian history like the Remurian Dynasty,” you opened your book and flipped to the chapter.

He tilted his head to the side as he looked at all the underlined passages and marginal notes on the pages. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t believe that the subject of Remuria would make up such a large portion of the exam that it would warrant all these notes. Is it a personal interest of yours?”

The idea that Neuvillette knew what was on the exam was surprising. You didn’t think it was something he would have much knowledge of, but since he was the head of the Maison Gestion, which administered the governess exams, maybe it wasn’t so surprising?

“...I suppose it is,” you said at last.

"What do you like about it?”

That question caught you off guard. "I just...do,” you said at last. “The story of that civilization is very fascinating to me, so I couldn’t help but read more about it.”

No one had ever asked you about this, so you didn’t know how to answer it.

Neuvillette looked down at your notes again. Was he reading them? You had the urge to close your book. Somehow, it felt like a violation of privacy, like he was reading your diary.

You were saved by the footsteps running up to you. “Sister! Sorry we took so long! We got the—oh Archons, is that Monsieur Neuvillette!?”

Your sister and the young master were both holding boxes of Conch Madeleines in their hands, staring at the Chief Justice with identical expressions of shock. You might have laughed if the atmosphere ’t so serious.

Neuvillette stood up. “Good day to you both,” he nodded towards them, then to you. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.”

The three of you watched as he left. Once he was out of earshot, your sister turned to you excitedly. “Sister! You know the Chief Justice?”

“I don’t,” you said, which was a half-truth. You really didn’t know him. “He just came up to me and started chatting.”

“Really?” she lifted an eyebrow. “The Chief Justice, who is so notoriously private that he rarely even does interviews, just randomly struck up a conversation with a stranger?”

“Look, I wish I could give you a good reason, but I can’t.”

Your sister continued to stare at you with narrowed eyes. You were usually pretty good at lying to people thanks to your excellent poker face, but your sister was one of the few people who could see right through you.

“Hey, it stopped raining!” Luckily, you were saved by the viscount’s son’s shout. “That was quicker than I expected.”

With snacks in hand, the three of you left the opera house and headed towards the aquabus station.

The exam day came, and in your honest opinion, you performed excellently. The questions were so easy that you could answer them in your sleep. The results would be finalized next week, and you knew for certain that you had qualified with flying colors. You handed the exam to the invigilator and left the Palais Mermonia with a spring in your step.

Now that you had the rest of the day free, whatever shall you do? Well, since the weather was so nice out, you thought you’d go to the Café Lucerne and get some Conch Madeleines as a celebratory snack. You had brought along your treasured copy of The History of the Decline and Fall of Remuria Volume 1 as well. Just the thought of spending the day eating sweets and reading your favorite book in the warm sunshine brought a smile to your face as you walked towards the elevator.

The thought distracted you so much that you didn’t notice the other occupant in the elevator until they cleared their throat. You spun around. It was as though fate was playing some kind of sick joke on you, since it was Neuvillette—who else could it be—standing in the tiny elevator space with you.

You thought about excusing yourself and leaving the elevator, but it was already descending.

“We do seem to meet quite often, Miss [Name],” he said. “My apologies.”

“Yes, we do indeed, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you said, resigning yourself to your fate. Why did he apologize just now?

“Did you have business at the Palais Mermonia today?” he asked.

“Yes. I had to write a history exam for my governess license.”

“Ah, I see. I wish you luck in passing.”

“Thank you, Monsieur,” you smiled and nodded.

An all-too-familiar silence fell. Couldn’t this elevator go any faster? It felt as though this shaft was going on forever.

You racked your brain for something to say but came up empty. You and Neuvillette simply lived in two completely different worlds. In situations like these, it was better to stay silent and pretend to be invisible, in your experience.

“So, Miss [Name], what do you think of the fall of Remuria? Do you believe it was truly predestined?”

“Huh?” That was the last thing you expected to hear.

Neuvillette repeated his question.

“I heard you the first time, Monsieur...I was just confused as to why you asked me that.”

“I simply want to know what a scholar of history like yourself thinks about it. I’ve asked this question to several others, and I’ve always received different answers. It’s very fascinating.”

A scholar of history? You felt embarrassed at how your heart lifted at hearing yourself described as such.

“Well, if you don’t mind listening to the opinions of an untrained layman like me, Monsieur...”

You cleared your throat and began to launch into the theory you had been brewing inside your head for several years. As you talked, the two of you walked out of the elevator and into the main hall, where people gawked at the Chief Justice listening attentively to a plain-looking woman prattling on about Remus and Boethius.

You noticed none of these things, for you had gotten too carried away with the excitement of finally having the opportunity to express your opinion on things that you actually cared about. You also didn’t notice the soft amusement in Neuvillette’s eyes as he observed you.

“...And so, I believe that Remuria might have lasted for much longer if those in power didn’t covet the things that weren’t meant for them, and instead focused their energies on preparing for their inevitable fate,” you concluded as the two of you neared the Café, then smiled up at him triumphantly. It was then that you realized that you had been the only one talking for the past fifteen minutes. “Oh, my apologies, Monsieur. I got carried away. It must have been dreadfully boring to hear me talk on and on.”

“Not at all. I was the one who asked, and it’s fascinating to hear such long-ago events from the perspective of a modern young lady. Have you ever considered becoming a historian or an archaeologist?”

Your good mood immediately faded upon hearing that. “No, Monsieur,” you said, sounding curter than you meant to. “I have not. Being a governess is my sole goal in life.”

Neuvillette seemed to sense your shift in mood, and the corners of his eyes lowered in regret. “My apologies. I have overstepped my bounds. But still, I do believe that the academic world is missing a brilliant mind like yours.”

You knew he was just being kind, but you still couldn’t help but feel a bit proud. And guilty. Your personal issues weren’t his problem. “Thank you, Monsieur.”

“I must admit, I had a very different impression of you from when we first met.”

“You did?” What he said baffled you. You always considered yourself to be a straightforward, “what you see is what you get” kind of person.

“Yes. I assumed you to be much more somber and cynical, but you’re nothing of that sort. You’re much livelier and passionate than you seem.”

“No, I’d say you were right the first time, Monsieur,” you said, amused. Lively and passionate were not words you had ever heard yourself associated with. “I think everyone acts different when they’re talking about the things they like, because they’re really talking about themselves. For instance, my sister loves to tease most of the time, but she gets deathly serious when it comes to shoes. I’m sure even you have moments like that, Monsieur.”

“No, I’m afraid not. My emotions are not so mutable or varied as yours.”

“Hmm…” you stared at him. It was true that his face wasn’t very expressive, but many people had said the same thing of you and assumed that you were unfeeling, which you knew wasn’t true. Perhaps it was the same for him.

The scent of coffee caught your attention as you realized that you were standing in front of the Café. “Ah, this is where I was heading, Monsieur. Would you like to, ah, join me?” you said awkwardly.

“I would be delighted to, but I am in fact invited to the opera house for a special performance, so unfortunately, I must decline.”

“A performance, huh. That sounds wonderful. Well, I mustn’t keep you then. Goodbye, Monsieur Neuvillette.”

“Goodbye, Miss [Name]. Have a lovely day.”

You watched him as he left. You had been looking forward to your reading time, but now you couldn’t help but feel a little lonely.

“Congratulations, Miss [Name], you are successfully qualified as a Court of Fontaine-licensed governess.”

The Gestionnaire’s monotone voice did little to dampen your excitement! You did it! After all your hard work and perseverance, you had finally obtained what you longed for.

“Now, you will be placed on the waiting list.”

You felt your smile drop off your face. “Waiting list?”

“There is a large volume of applicants whose applications are waiting to be processed before yours. Not to mention, there is currently a surplus of governesses in Fontaine. You need to wait for the older ones to retire before taking their spots,” the Gestionnaire dropped their voice to a whisper. “I would advise you to reconsider your career aspirations. If you want, you can also be placed on the waiting list for schoolteacher licenses.”

You frowned. School teachers were a somewhat less respectable profession for noble ladies than governess. It wasn’t as bad as laborer or factory worker, but it was still cause for other nobles to gossip about your family behind their backs.

For poor, low-ranking nobles, a spotless reputation was as valuable as gold. Any perceived blemish could attach undesirable labels that would take generations to erase. You thought of your beautiful, angelic sister, smiling so happily with that viscount’s son. That fragile relationship could be so easily snuffed out by a single bad rumor.

There were other jobs open to you, such as lady’s companion. However, you knew yourself well enough to know that you wouldn’t last very long in a role like that.

But on the other hand, you were desperate. You needed to fulfill your role for the sake of your family’s future and your own.

“Okay, put me on that list too,” you nodded tightly. “How long is it?”

“For both lists, it would take at least a year before we reach your application.”

“A year!?” you said. You hadn’t intended to sound angry, but the Gestionnaire recoiled. You forced yourself to calm down. Getting angry wouldn’t help your case.

A year was far too long. You lived in a boarding house in the centre of the city, and your savings were running out quickly. You didn’t even know if you would be able to pay next month’s rent. As a governess, you were supposed to receive a stipend for the first few months after obtaining your license as you searched for work, but those hopes were now dashed.

You thanked the Gestionnaire and left the Palais Mermonia with heavy steps, eventually ending up at the Café Lucerne. You considered going to a tavern to drown your sorrows in drink but decided against it. You were angry and frustrated, yes, but not to the point of doing something so foolish.

So, instead of a nice bottle of alcohol, you ordered five bottles of Fonta. Maybe you could drown your sorrows with their refreshing taste instead.

You slumped in your chair as you guzzled down the first bottle. You didn’t get it. You had worked so hard to fulfill the role granted to you by fate, and yet an obstacle was inexplicably placed on your path. It was such an inoffensive, unassuming role, so why...?

And what were you going to do from now on?

You could go home. Your family lived in a small town that was some distance away from the Court of Fontaine. But you would rather not. You had moved out in the first place to alleviate the financial burden on your family, and if you did move back, you would have to endure your mother’s tireless attempts to find you a husband.

You tilted your head back and stared up at the sky. It was a clear blue, not a single cloud in sight. It felt like it was mocking you.

Just then, a pale face framed with long silver hair blocked your sight. Lilac eyes looked down into your own.

Of course he would be the one to witness your current state. You wouldn’t be surprised if you went home and found him in your sitting room at this point.

“Hello, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you stood up and curtseyed half-heartedly. “As you can see, I’m no state to keep you company today. Please feel free to converse with someone else."

Neuvillette did not leave, but instead surveyed your surroundings. His brow furrowed at the bottles of Fonta.

He sat down across from you.

“My apologies for being so presumptuous, but I simply cannot stand by and watch you in such a state. Please, tell me what is distressing you.”

You stared at him. He was leaning forward, his eyes brimming with concern. Even though you barely knew him and was still considering just excusing yourself and leaving...

You sat back down and told him what just happened and your current circumstances. As you did so, you felt hot tears building up at the back of your eyes. You squeezed your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop them from coming out. You prided yourself on never crying, on taking what life threw at you without complaint. But there was also another reason, something you were surprised to admit even to yourself.

You didn’t want Neuvillette to see you cry.

It was a pathetic wish, but you wanted to show your best side to him. You wanted him to keep being impressed by you.

You didn’t know if Neuvillette picked up on your feelings. You hoped not. If he tried to comfort you, you would really lose control.

It felt colder than it did a few seconds ago. The area darkened; the shadows of clouds casted onto the ground. You could hear the people around you discussing if it was going to rain. Perfect. You would welcome rain at this point.

Neuvillette didn’t say anything for a while after you finished talking. You wondered if he understood what you told him. Surely the Iudex, the highest authority figure in the land next to the Hydro Archon, would find the concept of financial issues foreign?

You decided to grab another bottle of Fonta. But just as you reached for it, Neuvillette’s hand blocked yours and gently placed it down on the table.

Unaware of your reeling, he spoke in a quiet voice. “I can see that you’re in an extremely difficult situation, Miss [Name]. It troubles me greatly.”

You simply nodded. What else was there to say.

“I would like to propose an... unorthodox solution to your problems. One that would be beneficial for both of us.”

You looked up at him at that. You had expected him to tell you to go back home and tell your parents what happened and obey their wishes. But Neuvillette himself was offering a solution? What could it be?

Every nerve in your body was telling you that this could lead to nothing good. You usually trusted your instincts, as they were always right, but currently you were desperate enough to listen to anything.

“What do you propose, Monsieur?”

“Marry me.”

Previous | Next

[honeybeeofficial]

Im obsessed with your horseshoe crab bag and wanna make my own but dont have any leather working experience or knowledge, did you have a pattern you followed or did you just free hand it? also what would you recommend to someone wanting to try leather crafts for a first time?

I'll answer both this and a related question from @chaoticspaces:

hey! I’m in love with your crab bag. you mentioned you’ve never worked with leather; do you have any tips on where/how to start learning? or did you just wing it? I must preface that I’m a beginner at any sort of crafting and will have to learn the building blocks first but damn, people can just MAKE that kinda shit? I’ll learn to sew for that.

So it must be acknowledged that I am a fairly experienced crafter, I grew up sewing and sculpting and origami-ing and all sorts of crafty things. Meaning that although the horseshoe crab is my first experience in leatherworking, it's building off of existing crafting skills and experience thinking through how materials behave and how shapes interact. I say this as a preface not to discourage anyone from diving in, but rather so anyone who's newer to crafting can go in with a bit of perspective and not get discouraged if they don't get the hang of it right away! Be patient with yourself and keep pursuing the skills you want to develop.

With that out of the way, here's a (slightly abbreviated, but still Long) walk through what my process was like for drafting the pattern and learning how to work with leather!

Drafting the pattern

I started by looking up pictures of horseshoe crabs and doing a simple drawing of one from the top and from the side to get a sense of the shapes.

Then I broke it down into sections to make things easier on myself. Reducing things to basic shapes (crescent, box, wedge, cone, etc) is a good way to start making sense of a more complex form.

To make it work in three dimensions, I'd sketch what I think the shapes should probably be; cut out a mini version in paper; tape it together; go "hmm, that's not right," and adjust the sketch; repeat until I get roughly the form I'm looking for.

Once I had a general shape that worked, I recreated those pieces on paper again, this time full-size. That involved a lot of math to make sure all the proportions scaled accurately. Then I cut out those pieces and taped them together and adjusted any basic proportions again to fix anything that I scaled wrong.

At that point, I had a shape that read fairly well as horseshoe crab, and that would have been fine. However, I wanted things to curve and flare and be more organic, which is where a lot of the trickier adjustments come in. Using paper prototypes allowed me to work quickly and make changes easily. To exaggerate a curve, I'd cut the tape "seam", bend the paper into the desired shape, and then add or remove material from the adjoining sides until that curve stayed in place when re-taped. Each piece of the pattern is responsible for helping its neighbors stay in place.

After I got my paper prototype to a point I was happy with, I got some cheap sheets of kids' craft foam and made another prototype in that, but stitched instead of taped, in order to test the pattern as thoroughly as possible without having to use my actual leather for it.

---

Learning basic leatherworking

Youtube! I searched things like "introduction to leatherworking," "leatherworking techniques for beginners," "how to attach two pieces of leather," etc. There are a bunch of videos that show very detailed but not-too-lengthy examples of basic techniques.

Once I had seen a few examples and made a list of the basic tools I would need to get started, I went out and got myself some tools and scrap leather to experiment with. I watched some more videos showing how to use my tools, and followed along with them

Some of the techniques I looked up to start:

How to use an adjustable groover, stitching chisel, beveler, and wood slicker

Saddle stitching

Box stitching

Butt stitching (Yeah, I know)

How to set rivets in leather

What kind of leather dye/what kind of leather conditioner to use

I spent some time testing techniques, even ones I didn't need for this project, because the more time you spend with your material and tools, the more you'll understand how they work and how to get them to do what you want. I have a bunch of scraps lying around that just have random burnished edges, wonky rivets, stitches that don't go anywhere, etc.

I also found it helpful to look through leatherworking subreddits and follow leather crafters on instagram and look through what they're doing for inspiration, tips & tricks, and to see how they handle unusual shapes. Those subreddits can also be a good resource for finding existing answers to questions you have, or asking questions yourself.

[sillygoosealert]

How about Smoke being a doctor and his patient is the reader and they have feelings for each other?

Yes sweet pea, I love this idea 🎀

trust the process, is it a little weird? Yeah, but I had a vivid vision. Also, this isn’t really how these visits go lol, and this story doesn't make sense but it's okay because you guys have sex

Are you allowed to be this close ?? (。·o·。)ﾉ

AFAB reader, female reader, you clean up nice because you're scared to make a bad impression, the whole thing’s sexual I could stop I'm sorry, VIRGIN LOSER (both of you)

You have to go to the gynecologist - for a check up

You've done this before, but it doesn't make you feel less nervous

You clean up, shower, and wear your cutest bra and panties- not fancy or dull. A cute white pair with a pink bow on top. Keeping it classy

You spray yourself down with perfume, then you head off

When you walk in it's clean and smells of sanitation products , mm..

You walk up to the front, and you're guided to a room and you wait

A man with short grey hair comes in and closes the door behind him

‘Hello miss, how are you doing’

‘I’m fine..how are you?’A heads-up that it was a guy would be nice

‘I’m alright. If you want to go ahead and lay down for me and talk about why you’re here we can get started’ Next he’s going to tell you to take off your pants and cough for him.

You do as you are told and tell him you’re just here for your annual check-up

‘Alright, go ahead and take your pants off for me’

You slip them off and he just stares at your panties, for a lot longer than he should have

He rubs his face, which now has a tint of pink and he puts on some gloves

‘Alright, I'm going to go ahead and make sure everything looks alright and feels fine..’ He's starting to breathe hard, this might be his first time-or he's just nervous

‘Okay..’

He keeps your panties on but slides the part keeping your pussy hidden aside

You're burning up, he starts to put his fingers inside you

‘Can you take two or do you need me to go slow..?’ sorry?

‘Sorry?’

‘I just- I'm sorry, I don't want to accidentally hurt you..’ oh, yeah, that makes more sense

‘I can handle two, it's fine’

He shutters, sliding two of his fingers in and out as soft slapping noises fill the room

You softly grip the parchment paper you're lying on and breathe a little faster

‘Does that feel fine..?’ he's leaning closer to your ear, making you hum and nod

He starts to move his fingers deeper and in different spots

When he hits your G-spot, you bury your head in his shoulder and gently moan in soft breaths

‘That's..that's fine too, right?’

‘Feels good..’ you have one hand on his shoulder now, the other on the arm he's fingering you with

He rubs your clit with his thumb and kisses your neck, asking if you have any discomfort or pain with this- you answer no, of course

He pulls away his fingers, gets down, and puts his nose on your clit

He starts to thrust his tongue in and out of you, reaching the same spots as he did with his fingers but it feels..better

You grip his hair and whimper, mumbling incoherent praises and pleas

Then you climax on him, squirting and soaking his face and neck

He is, of course, thankful and licks it up, squeezing your thighs a little

He settles his bulge on you- and you get a little nervous

‘I haven't.. I'm not- this is my first time..’

‘It's okay, I'll take care of you..’

‘Okay..’

He pulls his pants down enough and as he takes it out, he delicately takes off your panties

Slipping in the tip, he puts an arm around you and keeps you close

It slowly makes its way in you, a thick stretch, but it’s mainly lengthy

He humps into you, holding you with one hand, rubbing your clit with the other

He's pounding into you at this point, bringing you both so close

He bites your neck as he finishes, making you climax too

as you both calm down, he pulls out, stuffs his leaking seed back into you, and helps you dress

‘Everything is fine, but I would come back in a couple of weeks just to make sure..’

‘Okay..will you be my doctor again..?’

‘If you want me to I can be, I'll take care of your appointment. Take care, and get home safe, please..’

With that you leave, maybe you should come more often- for your own health of course

AH AHHAHHHHHAHGWVEVWVVVV HHHHHHH AHHHHH AHHH 🎀

[maxipad031]

hey girl! i loveee ur account! can we get a best friends to lovers fic please? Shuri and reader are like 20, and reader realises she isn’t straight because she starts crushing on Shuri.<33

i like you silly

synopsis: fluffy and short fic where you start to realise your growing crush on your best friend, shuri. you don’t know where she stands, but she soon lets you know and you begin to understand yourself more.

contains: shuri x black reader, cute crushing, fluff, brief sadness, make out session, best friend to lovers x

and thank you smmm!🥰

novacane by frank ocean blasted in your sony headphones as you bopped your head continuously to the beat, your hand moving rapidly as you scribbled down equations for your calculus homework. it was literally due the next day and you'd forgotten all about it until your friend reminded you like 30 minutes ago through a lengthy text explaining how she lost it. your room was flipping messy, clothes on the floor, on the bed, heaped upon your vanity chair. the curtains were basically closed but there was a peak of natural light as your purple LED lights dominated the room, making it glow a soft lilac. something about purple just put you in a focusing mood, so yes your room had to be covered in it. just as the song was about to change, it stopped abruptly, and you shifted your gaze over to your phone, confused. sighing, you realised a call was coming through and when you saw who it was, your heart leaped in your chest.

my shuri <3

was displayed on the rectangular screen and you hurriedly fumbled everything away to pick up your phone to answer, crunching the papers under your weight in the process. as you clicked the bright green phone button, her breath taking voice came through into your headphones, loud as fuck.

"y/n, are you busy?" she asked softly, waiting patiently for your reply. you glanced at the phone, your homework underneath you and your phone again, "nope!" you answered, maybe way too excitedly.

"ah perfect, can you meet me at café moon in 10?"

"of course shuri, ill be there." you assured, packing away all your papers and into their designated folders, "is everything okay though?" you asked, realising its unusual behaviour for shuri to be calling you randomly since she's always busy with her tech projects.

"oh yeah, i just want to see you, make sure you're okay." she replied, her voice laced with some kind of additive that made you want to hear it all the time.

"okay, see you hunnie buns." she didn't reply straight away, but you cut off the call as you didn't want to hear her reply to your bold action anyways. well, to be honest, it wasn't even that weird because in your....friendship, you called each other lots of things like bae, darling, love, honey. it didn't really mean anything....or so you thought. you disconnected your headset and slipped it off, resting it on your oak desk as you attempted to make your dorm room look at least a little presentable, just in case you both came back here. shuri was used to your room being a mess though, she always says "it adds to your character, " with that silly, cute eye smile she does that makes you want to just give her pecks all over her face.

your mind often wavered like this and at first it was just subtle, cute scenarios you'd imagine before going to bed, but now it's just full blown delusion, things that would never happen between the two of you; i'll leave that up to your imagination.

you'd always identified as a straight individual since all you did were date boys in high school, but after meeting shuri, all of that went straight out the window and you've only been able to look at her: everyone else is blotted out with a black marker pen. she's in the centre of your thoughts, running around in your head rent free. you'd never really had close friends, so you orignally thought it was your clinginess that made you so drawn to her, constantly wanting to be around her at all times. however lately, it didn't make sense that you'd been feeling this way for this long, almost two years now. you usually lost interest in other friends you had but this was different, it was so clear now,

you fucking liked her.

it was a hard pill to swallow, the fact you were probably bisexual...or a lesbian? actually no, because you genuinely had feelings for the guys you dated, so you're probably bi...you think? whatever, labels confuse you and you don't care about them. right now, you're shurisexual and that's all that matters.

you sat up on your bed to look in the illuminating mirror as you ruffled your tangled curls, to the left, to the right, just everywhere until it looked nice and presentable. you were already wearing a large purple hoodie, so you just replaced your booty shorts with baggy ripped jeans. quite motivated to look nice, you picked up your makeup pouch from the vanity table and began to touch up your face, only a little concealer and lip gloss. once that was done, you cleaned your room further, stuffing your disorganized clothes deep inside your closet and kicking any loose objects under the double bed. with a deep sigh, you grabbed your phone and the keys from the drawer before heading out, making sure to lock your door securely. you walked quickly past all the loud kids occupying the dorm hallway, and rushed down the spiral stairs to basically sprint outside. as there were no cars coming at that moment, you crossed the quite busy road and ran down to the café shuri had told you to meet her at.

by the time you arrived, you were huffing and puffing as you tried to catch your breath. you had no idea why you ran but it was probably due to the fact you were so eager to see your best friend again after like two days. the cafe’s large glass windows exposed it’s interior. it wasn’t that busy and looked calm as always, everyone minding their own business studying or talking. as you grabbed the door handle, you eyes flickered to a familiar presence . it was shuri, sitting on a high chair that was facing the window, which faced the street, and seemingly engrossed in something on her phone as she scrolled. you walked in and the bell above the shop door rung at your arrival as shuri’s head whipped in your direction. you adjusted your hair behind your ear shyly and watched as she flashed you a bright smile while you walked over towards her.

“heyy ma, how is my darling.” she greeted, wrapping her long arm around your torso as you hugged each other. her embrace was comforting, you never wanted to let go. unfortunately, you had to depart from her and when you did, you sat down on the high chair next her.

“shuri, you forgot about me for two days, huh.” you scolded jokingly, as you crossed your arms and fake pouted.

“you know that’s not the case y/n.” she laughed at your fake act, taking a sip of coffee that she just ordered, “do you want anything to eat or drink?” she asked in a caring manner as her hands nestled in her lap.

“nah i’m alright, thanks though.” you played with the hem of your hoodie subtly as you grew nervous under her gaze. this was such an unusual feeling, you were normally the one making people shy, not the other way around. she nodded and rested her elbows on the shelf-like table before you both. she stared outside for a minute, her sharp jawline flexing as her eyes travelled. she has recently cut her curly hair and it was shaved at the sides, leaving the top sitting nicely and dropping over her forehead. the day she sent you that selfie pic of her freshly-cut hair, a tear ran down your leg; it was so attractive on her and she definitely knew it. you were beginning to understand that you didn’t wanna be her, you wanted to be with her. she wore a purple tracksuit this day, kimoyo beads wrapped around her slender wrists and her sunglasses propped up the middle of her forehead. she clicked her tongue softly and spun the chair around to face you,

“i have something to say.” she announced. your heart jumped and skipped and hopped before falling back down into your ass. you knew she wasn’t going to say what you thought she was going to say, but it was nerve wracking nontheless.

“go on.” you said, eyes wide open in anticipation.

“i’m going back to wakanda in two weeks.” shuri replied, playing with her glowing kimoyo beads as her eyes darted around the small cafe, avoiding your eye contact.

“wait what, why?!” the corner of your lip twitched with disappointment.

“my brothers funeral, i must be there.” she said, smiling weakly as an emotion of sadness washed over her eyes simultaneously. seeing her grieve for her brother broke your heart into a million pieces and you wanted to do nothing but comfort her. you slowly reached over her lap to cup her cold hands in yours. you massaged it lightly as you looked up at her, “that’s totally fine shuri, i’ll be here waiting for you.” shuri shifted her gaze to you and you swear for a split second it was a look that said, “i love you so much,” but it also might’ve been your imagination. she gave you another hug, squeezing you so tight, you had to tap her shoulder for her to soften up a little, “you don’t know how much i appreciate you y/n.” she sniffed a bit as she pulled away from you, holding her head up ever so lightly so stop any welling tears from escaping.

“hey, why don’t we go back to mine.” you suggested, pulling her up off the high chair. seeing her upset broke you and you wanted to cheer her up as soon as possible. shuri grabbed her now cold-coffee with her free hand and nodded her head as she obliged. you both stood up to leave and you led her out of the shop. the sun was blazing above and you instantly regretted wearing a big hoodie. shuri seemed to notice your discomfort as you constantly pulled at the neck of the clothing,

“you should come to wakanda, you’d die if you wore something like that outside.” she commented picking up the pace to walk beside you, her infamous eye smile displaying itself and making you melt as you stared at her.

you chuckled before replying, “take me then, i’ve always wanted to go.” you unintentionally held her hand as you crossed the road together. shuri paused and stared down at the interconnection of your hands; she didn’t pull away but held on tighter instead. you didn’t even notice the small act of affection as you scanned the road, careful you both didn’t get hit.

“alright.” shuri whispered under her breath, seriously contemplating to take you with her.

~~~

“how dare you plus five me, what the fuck!” you yelled, as shuri aggressively put down a blue +5 card. you two had resorted to playing uno flip and right now, she had you fucked up. she’d never played it until now but boy did she pick up the game fast, she even knew tactics to stop you from winning.

“sorry but i’m not letting you win.” shuri smirked as she watched you reluctantly pick up five cards from the deck when you previously had two cards left. the game resumed and you stared menacingly at her, your competitive side really coming out. shuri had four cards left whilst you ended up with seven from picking some up. she put some reverses, which skipped your turn, but just before she put down the second to last card, you yelled out UNO before she could realise and you cackled maniacally, picking up two cards to give to her. shuri quickly realised her mistake and shook her head, “you didn’t even tell me i had to say uno when i had one card left.”

“yes i did? that’s the point of the game.” you arched your eyebrow.

“you didn’t.”

“wanna fight?” you asked jokingly, putting your cards to the side and pretending to pack up your thick hair.

“like you’d win.” shuri rolled her eyes and cuffed up her sleeves as she put her cards to the side as well.

full on ready to actually wrestle with her, you leaped from your side on the bed to hers and she surprisingly caught you, flipping you over and laughing as she pretended to punch you,

“please please please, let me live, oh mighty black panther please!” you closed your eyes as if you were scared, rubbing your hands together as a sign of mercy. you were the only one here in america that knew she was the black panther by accident, and you’d sworn to never tell a soul.

after you heard nothing, you opened your eyes to peek and saw her doing a funny face. you both then bust out laughing at your silly behavior, forgetting that she was still on top of you. your laughing started to die down before you suddenly realised the position you were both in and instantly start to panic. her face was literally inches away from yours, as her minty breath tickled your nose. completely rapt, you didn’t know what to do so you just lifted your hands up to hold the sides of her small waist. she felt the sudden touch, and looked down at you, also realising how close in proximity you were to each other. you could do nothing but stare at her lips, perfectly two toned, glistening from the lip vaseline she always uses, and slightly parted. the urge to kiss her was so strong and nearly overtook you but your mind started to ramble and it unfortunately transferred into words out loud,

“shuri, i’m so sorry, i know this is probably the last thing you want to hear right now, but i like you, i really do, i’ve been liking you since i met you, i just didn’t know how to say it, i’m sorry, you probably don’t even feel the same way, but i just felt like i needed to-”

it seemed like shuri had the same thing in mind as your words were interrupted, by the feeling of her soft lips placed upon yours, maybe as a way to indirectly tell you to shut up. your eyes were wide open from shock but you shut them and kissed her back with a more needy approach. it felt like you were in another realm entirely, just you and her, together, nothing else mattered. your lips moved in sync as you held onto her waist tighter, liking the way her body felt on top yours. before you could slip some tongue in, she pulled away licking her lips as her eyes danced around the room, seemingly embarrassed by what just occurred. she gently climbed off of you and sat up, packing away the uno cards. you held yourself upright with your elbows watching her contently.

“shuri.”

she didn’t reply, focused on tidying up the bed.

“shuri!” you held your hand to stop her from her actions and she stared at you blankly before grabbing the sides of your face and pulling you into another kiss.

what in the world was happening right now.

her hands were enveloped in your brown locks and you pulled her closer, putting your hands on her shoulders to deepen the intimate kiss that was being shared by the two of you. shuri seemed like she wanted this for a long time, but so did you and you were going to make every second count. she was the first to slip her tongue in your mouth and you eagerly welcomed it. her muscular arms wrapped around your waist and propped you up onto her lap impatiently. you’d previously taken your hoodie off when you two came back and so you were left in a white tank top. her large hands rubbed against your chest area unintentionally and that riled you up even further. the kiss got hungrier, deeper as you snaked your hands around her neck, fingers laced in her tight coils as you devoured each other.

honestly, if this carried on, it was going to lead to something else and you didn’t think you were fully ready for that right now especially if shuri didn’t feel as deeply for you as well, so you hesitantly parted your lips away from shuri’s, leaving a string of saliva connecting the two of you. shuri breathed heavily as she looked up at you through her chocolate orbs, her lips having grown in size from the fervent make out session. you adjusted your top that had rode up from the touching and carefully got down from shuri’s lap,

“i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable, i don’t know what came of over me, i understand if you don’t like me anymore i’m sorry-” shuri blabbered, worried to death that she’d made you feel weird, hence why you stopped.

“no shuri, that was amazing, of course i like you silly, i just told you a whole essay about it.” you giggled, placing your forehead on hers lovingly, “i stopped because i just have a question to ask you.” you said mysteriously, as you sat up against the headboard of your double bed.

“go ahead,” shuri urged you to continue as she followed you, also moving so her back was against the headboard.

“do you want to be my girlfriend?” you inquired bluntly. you didn’t think you’d ever say that to anyone but surprise surprise, here you were.

“i thought you’d never ask.” shuri hugged you for the 30th time that day and you hugged her back, filled with absolute bliss. you were so certain she’d reject you but her feelings for you might’ve been even stronger than yours for her; no that’s impossible. you couldn’t wait for what’s the future held for you two as well as how your relationship would work out. however, not everything was all roses and daisies as you remembered that’s she’s eventually going to leave you soon.

“wait shuri, aren’t you leaving, i’m not going to be able to see you.” you pouted, holding her hands as your head was down in woe.

“well, you said you wanted to come, didn’t you, i can definitely organize that.” shuri replied, lifting your chin up to look at her.

“what!? you don’t mean it...i can go to wakanda?! oh my god, no fucking way, i’ve always wanted to go! shuri, i could literally buy you a lamborghini right now.” you yelled out, full of excitement as you jumped off the bed and ran laps around your small dorm room screaming your head off like a lunatic, almost tripping on the loose objects all over the floor.

shuri laughed wholeheartedly at your thrilled uproar, loving how gorgeous you looked when you were happy. this was going to be a great few weeks for you two.

🫶

[superstarzolar]

hey, fritz! I love your art and was wondering how you shaded your art because the lighting and colors are really nice, I also use Procreate and do an overlay with dark purples for shadows, and was wondering how to shade somewhat like you do!

(keep up the incredible work, the fandom page is so cool)

this is a somewhat lengthy tutorial cuz my shading is a multi-step process so……. under the cut it is!!!

i use [what i like to call] grayscale shading, where you block out the shadows/highlights in grayscale. i use this to better differentiate the values in the lighting and get better contrasts [and all that other technical artist mumbo jumbo]

[i’ll also be using a pisspoor sketch of my fnac puppeteer design for this so…… ya]

[colors are also shown on the side as they become relevant]

[THIS IS ALSO VERY UGLY BCUZ ITS A SKETCH AND THE INITIAL DRAWING IS NOT USINF MY USUAL WARM COLORS… but the tutorial still applies]

obviously step number 0 is ur base colors . nothing too outrageous here .

1st , i put a gray overtop the base colors [not on the same layer(s), obviously]. this color acts as the base value in the steps to come, and i usually use a gray in between pure black and pure white.

2nd, i go overtop that other gray layer with another, more darker gray. this one is the closest to pure black out of any other value in the shading .

[these nexts steps assume that you know what angle your lighting is coming from]

3rd, i erase all parts from the dark gray layer that are in the light. [i know jack shit abt lighting and so i just eyeball it and pray, but using references also works].

4th, i take a gray in between the initial midtone-gray and our darkest gray and rim the edges of some of the erased bits and/or scribble in blocks of color on parts that are close to, but not directly in, the light.

5th, i get a gray tone lighter than the initial base color and use it to highlight the parts of the drawing that are nearest to the light source.

6th, i take another gray tone, one that’s now in between our darkest gray and the one we picked in step 4, and scribble it around the edges of areas completely in shadow. this is supposed to be some sort of reflective light, but honestly idfk what im doing.

[these next steps use the gradient map feature on procreate, but im sure manually picking colors is fine too]

7th, i use the gradient map feature on procreate to automatically assign colors to the previously gray values. for this example im using the present Mocha gradient, but any other gradient will do

8th, after settling on a gradient that matches the mood/color scheme/setting of the image, i set the layer to multiply and fuck around with the opacity until im satisfied with how it looks.

additionally, you can add an overlay layer and airbrush the lightest areas with a similarly light color/the darkest areas with a similarly dark color.

aaaaaaaand that’s it for a shading tutorial. being so fr i don’t like how some of my shading looks sometimes and im working to improve it but this is how i do it currently !!!!!

[limarieb]

(shades of) maroon

Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff x (implied) fem!reader

Summary: The development of your relationship with Wanda from its glorious beginning to its bitter end. (Inspired by 'Maroon' by Taylor Swift.)

Warnings: strangers to friends to lovers, fluff... to angst, no happy ending (this is my weak attempt at writing angst), character death

Word Count: 6.2k

Author's Note: im still in the process of writing new stuff, so i hope you can enjoy some old writing from my ao3 in the meantime... also, requests are still open!

Main Masterlist | ao3 | Wattpad

...

When the morning came we, Were cleaning incense off your vinyl shelf, 'Cause we lost track of time again, Laughing with my feet in your lap, Like you were my closest friend...

The stench of alcohol plagued the air surrounding you. You were not one to drink much, but Tony insisted on organizing another party — what was to be celebrated, you never really figured out. As the moment thirty minutes had passed since your arrival, the several shots you had done with Natasha were beginning to take effect. You were not drunk yet, but the shots definitely acted as a stepping stone. Beneath your skin, an underlying buzz was being contained.

You were talking to Natasha about the latest news in your life, considering the two of you do not always get to talk as much as you do since she is constantly on missions across the globe. As you raised your cup to your lips, you realized it was too effortless to lift. You excused yourself, making your way through the various attendees to get to the bar for a refill.

When the bartender asked you what you wished to order, you requested your usual: "Vodka Coke, please."

You remained where you were, but you elevated your left arm vertically enough to be placed on the counter. Slightly leaning, you use the angle to reach with your right hand into your pocket to retrieve the phone being stored there. Before you could, however, an unknown voice seemed to acknowledge you, "Interesting drink-of-choice... most go for a Rum and Coke."

You turned around, expecting to find out who this opinionated person is. What you did not expect, though, is said person being a beautiful brunette. Her eyes were one of the brightest shades of green, but they were dulled by the dark eyeliner outlining her eyes. The lengthy, brown hair cascaded down her back and shoulders. You even admired her sense of style; it was edgy — to say the least — but still very fashionable in your opinion. "I like to think I'm interesting," you began. "Otherwise, I'd be boring, and that's no fun. Even so, I refuse to accept that vodka is not the better one, especially compared to rum."

She let out a small laugh when you added a theatric gag at the end, showing your distaste for the latter drink. It was a bit dramatic, but you would do it again just to hear that laugh once more. With a slight smirk forming, she returned: "Coming from a place of people who praised that drink on their hands and knees, I am sure that I'm obligated to agree."

It was your turn to provide a chuckle at her joke, "Russia?"

"Close," she replied, tilting her head from left to right. "Sokovia."

Within seconds, the mood dampened a bit. You saw the numerous news reports of what had happened to the small country: ultimate destruction. There was a sharp intake of your breath, confused about how to properly respond in this situation (especially when you are intoxicated). The girl began chewing on her lip, which you assumed to be a nervous habit due to your lack of an immediate reply.

Once you finally opened your mouth, the bartender returned with your glass. You wrapped your hand around the glass, lifting it to take a sip. It was relatively sweet, yet it still contributed to the increasing levels of liquid courage.

The awkward tension was still present between you two. You could have simply left and returned to Natasha; instead, you opted to ignore it before she had the chance to leave you at the bar. "So," the word started to become drawn out. "Wanna get out of here?"

Her eyes widened, evidently thinking something entirely different than what you were expecting. "Not like that! I just mean, do you want to hang out at my apartment or something, instead of here? It's quite loud, and parties aren't really my thing, anyway. I just come because the alcohol is free. You don't have to, of course, but..."

The anxiety was starting to overpower the liquid courage, causing you to trail off as you finished your question; you left the hope that she accepts your offer to come with you unspoken. Finally, you could see the smile return to her face, removing most of the nervousness from your body. It was small but there nonetheless. "Ok," she agreed. "Under one condition, though. I want to know your name."

"Y/N. But, I'll also need to know yours."

"Wanda. Wanda Maximoff."

"Well, Wanda," you placed your now empty glass back on the counter. "We better get going."

Nothing necessarily happened that night. It was purely innocuous fun away from the overwhelming crowd at the party. Nonetheless, it was still one of the best nights of your life. You put some records on the turntable that sat on your bookshelf, allowing your favorite songs and scents of incense to fill the room. Wanda sat at the top of your bed with her back up against the wall. She was busy observing the decorations in your room, inferring the various quirks you possessed.

The two of you talked about many things that night. In the days after, you preferred to blame the openness on the alcohol; however, you knew it was because of her. It was simply easy to talk about anything and everything with Wanda. The Sokovian even shared some of her own stories, albeit with some difficulties. You ensured her it was alright if she didn't want to share, and she admired the respect you gave.

That is not to say it was all sad, traumatic memories being shared. You found out a few things about Wanda when she is tipsy and tired: she can be quite the comedian; she likes physical touch if she is comfortable with the person, resulting in the legs that were laying on your own; and her accent — which is incredibly enticing, you might add — becomes more prominent.

It was like you two had known each other since childhood; if another person had been present, they would assume you were best friends. And, honestly, you wouldn't disagree.

That was the night Wanda had both entered your life for the first time and risen the ranks to "best friend" status.

How'd we end up on the floor anyway? You say, "Your roommate's cheap-ass screw top Rosé", that's how, I see you everyday now...

A month had passed since the night of Tony's party, otherwise known as the night you befriended Wanda. You had seen each other practically every day since then, specifically in the evenings when you do not usually work. A few significant developments had taken place since then, including — but not limited to — the Sokovian becoming an Avenger. You could tell she was apprehensive about it all, concerning the relatively unstable powers she holds; thus, you tried to reassure her whenever you could in moments when her anxieties became overwhelming.

You texted her, letting her know that you were coming over to make her dinner that night. Thankfully, she had training, so the surprise you had planned wouldn't be ruined. A couple of days prior, you researched different Sokovian recipes. You vaguely recalled something she said about her favorite food being from home, but you couldn't exactly recall the name of the dish. After a few minutes, you finally found it: Chicken Paprikash.

As the cooking was coming to an end, you heard your phone ding from the counter, indicating that you had received a text message. Quickly, you wiped your hands of the food remnants on the towel that was closest to you. When the screen lit up, you noticed the message was from Wanda, saying she would be down in a few minutes. Panic began to bubble within you, as the food wasn't done yet and you haven't even gotten the drinks poured. Surely, it is not actually the time you planned to meet—

6:00 PM. That was the time staring back at you on the kitchen clock. Although, you did not have the time to think about how to rectify the problem. Footsteps were heard behind you, and you heard the mystery person inhale deeply through the nose. "Wow," they exclaimed. You knew that accented voice from anywhere: Wanda.

Slowly, you turned on your heels. "Hey, Wanda," you replied, unsure of what to say considering you were not done cooking let alone planning on what to say once she arrived.

"Is that Paprikash?" she asked as she approached the pot on the stove to take a glance for herself.

You gave a shy nod in return, "Yeah, I know you've been stressed lately with this and all." You used your free hand to motion to the surrounding building, referring to the fact she became an Avenger. "So, I wanted to do something to help, to bring you comfort. And, I know you said once that your favorite food was something from home, but I couldn't remember the name of it. But, fortunately, I was able to find it with my expertise in searching things on the internet. Ok, wait... that sounds weird—"

You stopped rambling once Wanda turned away from the stove to face you. Immediately, you noticed the tears forming in her eyes. Being the anxious person you were, you had assumed this was because of something you had done wrong. "No, no. Please don't cry, Wands. Did I make it wrong? I can make something else, or I— I can change it if I need to..."

It appeared to be quite the opposite, though. Wanda walked toward where you were standing only a few feet away. She looked up at you, taking in the genuine expression of concern on your face. No one has ever cared this much for her, excluding the family she once had when they were alive. So, she wrapped her arms around your abdomen and pulled your body as close to hers as possible. With her head resting on your shoulder near the collarbone (and your head laying on her own), you both relished in the comfort of the embrace. You brought your arms to her back, alternating between trailing your hand in up-and-down motions and in circles. Never had a hug felt so warm and relieving.

"No," she broke the silence after a moment had passed. "It's perfect, truly, Y/N. It's everything. I— I don't know how to thank you."

"You being here is enough."

The two of you ate the dish together in the peace of your own company. You found a spare bottle of rosé in Tony's cabinets, taking it to the table to be poured as needed. She loved it, as she had anticipated; yet, she loved your reaction almost as much as the food itself. You had told her that you had never had Paprikash before, that this was the first time you had eaten the dish let alone make it (which is one of the reasons why you were nervous). So, she waited impatiently with her bottom lip between her teeth as you took the first bite.

You had to admit, it was very good. In fact, it was so good that you let out a moan due to the combination of flavors currently occurring in your mouth. Upon realizing the sound you just realized, blood began to rush to your cheeks; the wine did not help the involuntary blush forming. The Sokovian laughed, not noting the latter events, and the two of you resumed eating the food and drinking the wine as conversation flowed easily.

It felt like you were transported back in time to the night you first met, feeling a similar buzz radiating under your skin. It took a similar effect on Wanda; therefore, you two decided to retire to her bedroom in the compound for the evening. It was late and you were not exactly the most sober, so she didn't want you driving home.

"Well, how could I say 'no' to a sleepover?" you supplied, humorously.

She smiled, and a sort of gleam came into her emerald eyes. Having been practically raised by sitcoms, she had always wanted something like this during her youth: a cliché sleepover with her best friend. She told you as such, "Good. I'm excited... I've never had a sleepover before, so..."

The shock you felt from that statement must have been evident on your face, for the gleam began to fade a bit while her expression slightly fell. "Well, that just won't do. We have to make this the best, classic, all-American girl sleepover. We need movies, snacks, blankets, and pillows. Do you have a game? Actually, never mind that. We can just do a verbal game like Truth or Dare or 20 Questions."

The plan you began drafting out loud caused the shine to return to Wanda's eyes. For hours, you spent your time in a fort you two built out of several blankets and pillows on the floor. The space was confined, requiring the two of you to lay as close as humanly possible. You watched two movies on your laptop, then switched to playing some games. You ended up playing 20 Questions, wherein you discovered some interesting things about each other. To summarize the most important conclusions, it was found out that: she has a guilty pleasure for stealing other people's clothes (specifically, oversized items like sweats or shirts), and you often took smoke breaks when you got stressed or overwhelmed (she liked to joke, saying she could tell that you were a "little stoner" at heart). However, the most intriguing discovery that was unearthed during the game was the potential that the other was not straight. During a round in which you were asked about your celebrity crush, you quickly gave your answer: "Florence Pugh or Brittany Snow. I don't know; they're both hot, honestly."

While you weren't exactly ashamed of your sexuality, you weren't sure of her opinions regarding the subject and didn't want to risk losing her. It never really came up in past conversations. As you registered what you just admitted, you kept your gaze down toward the carpet where you two were sitting. She gave a hum of approval, "I totally get it. Brittany in Pitch Perfect? Stunning. Florence in the Little Women remake? Perfect."

You looked up, finally allowing your eyes to meet hers. Obviously, she could tell you were succumbing to the nerves of your mind (it also helps when her powers make sensing others' strong emotions very easy). She remained in the same position from before, but her hand reached for the one resting in your lap. Taking it in hers, she gave it a gentle squeeze; the grasp strong enough to let you know she's not going to leave you. "I do not care if you're gay, Y/N. You know that, right? I don't mind women myself from time to time. It honestly depends on their personality more than their gender, you know?"

You have never felt so relieved and understood by another individual. You acknowledged her with a quick, almost unnoticeable nod. "Good," she continued with her classic smile on her face. "Wanna watch another movie?"

Sheltered by the blanket structure, you two resumed the positions of laying on the floor. This time, as the movie played on the computer in your lap, you felt her head lean on your soldier. Then, her right hand gradually crept closer to your left hand. Minutes later, her fingers were threaded between yours. At first, your heart was beating fast because you were nervous — she was making you nervous. As if she sensed this (which she did), she was able to calm you by using her thumb to rub the back of your hand.

You didn't have time to think about what it all meant that night; the two of you immediately fell asleep, and the rather serious elements of the night were seldom mentioned. Although, you only had one thought relating to Wanda before succumbing to slumber: Oh God.

And I chose you, The one I was dancing with, In New York, no shoes, Looked up, at the sky and it was...

Honestly, you were not sure if you were going to ever mention these newfound feelings you felt for the Sokovian. You wanted her to come to you, relying on whether or not she felt comfortable. While you wanted nothing more than to know whether or not she returned the sentiment, you also recognized she is in a fragile position. For instance, what if you tell her, and she totally freaks and doesn't want to be friends anymore? Or, what if she thinks that you don't want to be friends if she doesn't like you back, leaving her thinking she'll lose you? To say you were spiraling oftentimes about the situation was an understatement.

It didn't occur all of the time, though. In fact, the times you were simply spending moments with Wanda were enough to satisfy you, for that's all you truly wanted at the end of the day: her and her happiness.

About four months after you had met at the party, you were laying in Wanda's room at the compound. You were scrolling through your phone, looking at emails from the past few days that you had missed. Wanda, on the other hand, was reading a book she had just bought from a local bookstore. The room was under a comfortable silence; that is, until Wanda broke the silence with a random question: "Have you ever seen stars? I mean, in the sky... as the movies show them?"

"You haven't?"

It was not the best reply, looking back on it. The surprised tone could come across as judgmental — and, it definitely must have. The Sokovian began to sink into herself, her gaze lowering and the volume of her voice almost completely reduced. "No, I haven't," she said in a shaky response. "When I lived near Novi Grad, there were rarely nights where the sky was clear of clouds and fog enough to see any stars. Also, being locked in a cell made it quite difficult in terms of getting outside to see them. I haven't really stopped to think about it again until now."

You realized your mistake, "Sorry, Wands. I didn't mean to say it like that, like I was judging you. It's just weird to think, I guess, that you haven't seen them." There was a slight pause in your speech, "You know what? Come on." You grabbed her arm, pulling her off of the bed with you. The sudden action caused her to drop her book, but she was too occupied with trying to figure out what you were up to care about the forgotten novel.

"Where are we going, Y/N?"

"You'll see," you replied in a confident but excited tone.

"Y/N," she chuckled, loosening up. "We don't have our shoes on."

As the two of you entered the elevator, you pushed the button to take you to the highest possible floor. "Eh, shoes are for losers, anyway."

The ride took a minute or two, but the doors eventually opened in an achingly slow manner. You knew the sky would be clear tonight, therefore there would be stars visible in the upstate New York region. You took her hand in yours and dragged her outside to the rooftop.

"Well, look up!" you said, surely.

Wanda took a deep breath, then she hesitantly lifted her head. She gasped at the sight: hundreds or thousands of little white dots littered the dark, night sky. It was beautiful; there was nothing to compare it to in that regard.

She hugged you, similarly to how she did the night you made her favorite dinner for the first time.

"Do you like it?" you whispered into the ear that was conveniently located close to your mouth.

The Sokovian gave a slight nod, "I love it. I don't think I have ever seen something so extraordinary."

You nodded your own head in an unspoken agreement. The two of you just stayed there, remaining in the comfort of each other's arms as you took in the sights around you. After several moments passed, Wanda suddenly lifted her head to look directly into your eyes.

"Dance with me," she unexpectedly requested. It was not posed as a question, so you didn't think you had a choice in the matter (not that you'd deny her of anything she wanted anyways).

You moved your arms to be placed on her shoulders, encircling her neck; her arms maintained their positions around your waist. She moved her body closer, leaning near to the point that her forehead was resting against yours. This position should've been awkward — it would've been had it been anyone else; with Wanda, it felt so natural. Under the stars, the two of you simply swayed in the cool breeze of the August air.

"Y/N?"

You hummed.

"I choose you."

Your heart must have skipped multiple beats at that moment, but it did not stop you from giving your own confession: "I choose you, too."

In a speed that can only be deemed as torturous, you waited as Wanda slowly leaned in closer. Her eyes were constantly switching between your eyes and your lips. "Can— Can I kiss you?"

"Please," you practically whimpered.

Her head finally tilted and got closer until it hit — absolute fireworks. As her lips gracefully touched yours, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut to fully experience the moment in the most sensual way. It was not rushed or needy; it was the opposite, defined by the intimacy and passion that cannot possibly be found elsewhere. You could not think about anything other than how her rose-colored lips felt against yours. It is like the moment in which you finally find that missing piece that perfectly fits, bringing the puzzle all together; she's the missing piece, and your life is the completed puzzle.

As the kiss ended, you reluctantly pulled away. Her eyes remained closed at first, but they opened soon after. Her piercing green eyes never failed to stun you, not since the first day your own eyes landed upon her. You took your right hand, pushing a few strands of hair that had fallen to go behind her ear. She took her bottom lip between her teeth.

"What are you nervous about?" you inquired, noting the habit.

Her eyebrows furrowed, "What do you mean?"

"You were biting your lip," you explain. "You only do that if you're nervous about something, like when you first talked about Sokovia or when you just wanted me to like the Paprikash because it's your favorite."

It was not the response she expected, but something about it made Wanda like you even more than she had previously. "Nothing, truly. I just really like you... just in case the kiss we had did not prove that enough."

"I can't even begin to describe how much I like you, Wanda. You make me so inexplicably happy; you have for a while now."

"A while, huh?" she teased, her signature smirk forming.

Unfortunately, so did your blush as you conceded, "About three months, give or take."

The Sokovian tried to do the mental work to deduce the time period, "Around the night of the sleepover?"

The blush on your cheeks brightened, and you gave a nod to affirm her response.

"We got there, eventually," she offered.

"Yeah," you agreed with a grin. "We did."

You couldn't resist the temptation any longer and shifted your head to give her more kisses. You started with light butterfly kisses on her jawline. Slowly but surely, you transferred to her cheek, to her forehead, to the tip of her nose, then — finally — locked your lips to hers.

If you could kiss her for hours, you would; so, you did. That night under the sea of stars, you two repeatedly exchanged kisses loaded with all of the feelings that had been pent up inside for a while.

The burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me, And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was- The mark you saw on my collarbone, the rust it grew between telephones The lips I used to call home, so scarlet, it was maroon...

You weren't sure exactly when you knew it was love. Obviously, you have known you loved her as a person for a while considering she was your best friend; but, romantic love — loving her as a partner, your supposed other half — is entirely distinct from that sort of platonic love of friends and family.

In retrospect, you think it has to be New Year's Eve. It was below freezing outdoors, leaving residents confined to the inside of their homes. This was not an issue for you and your girlfriend, for you two would never complain about the need to cuddle with each other for extra warmth.

Due to the holiday, Tony was throwing another extravagant party, which you two had obviously been invited to attend. That is how you found yourself in this predicament:

You had been standing out on the balcony for about fifteen minutes; it was getting a bit hectic inside with many people being in attendance. Normally, you'd just seek Wanda for comfort; however, you couldn't find her, leaving you to your own devices. The only immediate solution you could think of was to exit the situation by standing on the balcony in the cold air.

Though you'd been lost in thought for a while, a pair of familiar hands brought you back to the present. They tangled around your waist, one pulling you close to the front of the body behind you and the other holding a glass of red wine.

"дорогая, what are you doing out here? It's freezing," she moved her face closer to your neck. You tilted your head to the side in order to give her more access. She took advantage of this offer, peppering sweet kisses to the side of your neck. "Are you okay?" she asks, the concern evident in her voice.

"Yeah, I'm okay now," you confirmed, trying to ease her mind in the way that she does yours. "I just felt overwhelmed in there... a lot of people."

She gave a hum of agreement, "I don't even know how he knows that many people."

Her comment elicited a small laugh from you, which she took as a good sign of your emotional well-being. You let out a whine of annoyance when she briefly let go of you. As you turned to face her, though, your arm must have nudged the hand holding the glass of wine. Before anything could be done, the red liquid began to seep into your attire.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," Wanda raised her empty hand to cover her mouth in shock. "дорогая, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to spill it. Oh my God, I ruined your clothes."

Meanwhile, you tried saying her name multiple times to try to stop her ranting. You understood it was not her fault; if anything, it was mainly yours for lacking basic spatial awareness. Eventually, you realized she would not stop on her own accord; thus, you placed your lips on hers in a final attempt to get her to slow down before she officially spiraled.

When you finally pulled away, she kept her eyes close because she was afraid of your rejection. "Wanda?" you pleaded. "Wanda? Baby, can you please open your eyes for me?"

In an apprehensive manner, she revealed her eyes to you. If the tears were not sufficient in proving her internal panic, you could feel the anxiety that was radiating from her body. "It's okay. I promise that it is okay, baby. Accidents happen, okay?"

She sniffled, clearly upset but relieved that you were not mad at her for the mistake. You raised your hands to her face, using your thumbs to wipe the lonely tears that began to slowly roll down her lightly-freckled cheeks. As you did so, the two of you stared into each other's eyes in an endless endeavor. You could barely make out the sound of a countdown coming from indoors:

"10..."

You moved to be as close to her as you could.

"9..."

"Wanda..." you said.

"8..."

You kept your thumbs stagnant now, simply cupping her face between your hands.

"7..."

"Y/N?"

"6..."

She followed suit, circling your torso with her hands.

"5..."

"I— I want to tell you something."

"4..."

"What, дорогая?" she pondered aloud, genuinely curious as to what you were about to say.

"3..."

"I love you, Wanda Maximoff. Not even with just my heart, I love you with my whole being."

"2..."

Your novel confession caused her breath to hitch in her throat. The tears that you had just wiped away were now returning with fervor.

"1..."

"I love you, too. I love you so much."

Thus, as the clock struck midnight signaling the start of a new year, you kissed the woman you loved with such a deep, irreplaceable passion. You felt like you could never come down from this high.

When the silence came we were shaking blind and hazy, How the hell did we lose sight of us again? Sobbin' with your head in your hands Ain't that the way shit always ends?

Looking back on your relationship, it was evident that you were susceptible to naïveté. When the clock strikes midnight, it does not stay midnight. The minutes will keep passing, for time does not stop for anything or anyone. Unfortunately, you had to find this out the hard way:

"Y/N?" you heard your girlfriend call you from a nearby room.

"In here!"

As she walked into the room, there was an unusual heaviness in her step. The atmosphere around you, too, was spoiled; it made you feel uneasy.

"Is something wrong, Wands?"

Given that she couldn't meet your gaze and continued to play with the rings on her fingers, it was evident that she didn't want to say whatever she had to, or that she simply didn't know how to do it in the first place: "I have to leave. I won't be back for a while."

"What do you mean?" you became even more confused. "Wanda, what the hell? What do you mean you have to leave? You have to go where? Go... Why?"

She stepped further back in favor of pacing the room. "I— I don't know, Y/N. They want me... the government, I mean... because of this mess between Tony and Steve. Natasha is setting up a safe house and a fake identity for me somewhere, most likely not on this continent. I'm so sorry. I don't want to go, but you're not safe as long as I'm here. I can't let you get hurt because of me... that has happened enough times in my life."

"No, Wanda," you cried out, not believing the words were actually true. "No! I— this isn't happening. No, you're not leaving."

"дорогая..." she trailed off, unsure of how to express her sympathy.

"No!" you began to yell, officially beyond upset. "You can't leave me; I refuse. I don't care whether you think I'm safe or not. You don't get to make that decision for me; we make that choice together. I want to be with you, Wanda! I love you; please don't leave me."

The sight unfolding before the Sokovian was heartbreaking. She could only repeat her earlier words, "I'm sorry, дорогая... I will always love you, Y/N, no matter what."

With your arms shakily encircled around your noticeably trembling body, you attempted to find solace. Further, your red face had tears flowing with no end. Wanda eventually gathered the encourage approach you. Initially, you tried to resist it by pushing her away or shrugging her off. You were so frustrated, wanting to show her that you were upset she was leaving you when you two could have stayed together. But, you gave in, for you'll always need her comfort in the end. You probably looked pathetic as you held onto her, sobbing into her chest with your arms clutching hers as if she'd fade away at any moment. Then again, you have never felt your heart physically break as much as it did that day.

Unfortunately, that sentiment didn't last very long. Only a few months later you received a call from an unknown number. Before the Avengers left and began to hide around the globe, you never would have answered the call of an unknown number. However, you know Wanda was also told not to contact you. At least, she would not be able to contact you with her personal phone, which she had left at your place with you.

Actually, you were on her phone when it happened. Oddly, you were feeling okay that day. It felt like the weight of the sadness was lifting, beginning to understand this situation would all be temporary. So, you allowed yourself to finally open her phone and scroll through all of the pictures and videos she had of you two. As you were watching a video that she took of you and her at Christmas last year, the call from the unknown number came through on your own phone. You stood silent for a moment, as if the phone would sense your presence and stop ringing if you moved a muscle. Your subconscious freeze ended, and you scrambled to the phone upon thinking about the possibility that Wanda is finally calling you after these past few months on the run.

You were close; the phone call was from Natasha. You knew she had been keeping tabs on Wanda in the beginning. You assumed she was currently acting as the middleman for a message from Wanda — you were very wrong.

"Hello?"

"Y/N?" the voice came through the speaker.

"Natasha? Is that really you? Hello? Oh my God, is everything alright? Wanda... how's Wanda? Have you heard from her? She hasn't contacted me at all this whole time, and I'm starting to get worried. Has it been too long? Natasha, what is happening? I'm scared..."

"Y/N..."

You didn't like that tone. It's the one someone uses when they know something is wrong, but they don't want to tell you that said thing is wrong. It was at that point you knew something was really wrong.

"No, Natasha. No. Tell me. I need to know. I love her, Natasha. I deserve to know."

"Wanda... she's— she's gone."

Time will never stop for anything or anyone; that principle was evident long ago when you two first confessed your love for each other on the balcony on New Year's Eve. That does not mean time cannot exponentially slow down. For at this moment, that is exactly what happened. As if your body took over for your mind, you went on autopilot: hanging up the phone on Natasha without any words being said and falling onto your knees in a fit of despair. The sob released from within can only be described as primitive, and the feeling as permanent. You clutched your chest, similar to the way you did when Wanda first told you she'd have to leave months ago.

That is not to say you blame Wanda or anyone around you, including yourself, for the outcome of today. You know there was no way of knowing, so logically nothing could've been changed in the end nor the beginning.

You were bound to be alone. Wanda wouldn't be there to hold your hand when you watched a movie, gently kiss the side of your neck when you were overwhelmed, or worry herself at the silly mistakes she made; she wouldn't be there to roll her eyes at your admittedly stupid jokes, kiss your lips while you made dinner for the two of you, or hold you in bed after a long day or a terrible nightmare. But, most importantly, Wanda — the love of your life — wouldn't be there to get married to you, raise the three children you two always wanted (because "one is not enough and two is average, but four is definitely too much"), or experience the other joys of spending the rest of your lives together as you two had intended.

At first, you were just sad all of the time. It was an endless pit of despair, rendering you hopeless. You had your whole life planned with her being in it; how could you ever live that same life, especially happily, now that she's not here to experience it with you?

Then, a switch occurred in your mind one day. The sadness quickly faded into a wave of hateful, vengeful anger. It felt like your body and soul were constantly plagued with so much anger and hurt, because how dare this happen to you two? How dare this happen to her after she's already been through and lost so much? And, how dare this happen to you after you finally found your person?

The worst of it all is it felt like you still see her everywhere, from the compound to the grocery store. Even today, there are constant reminders making it impossible for you to escape the maroon lens Wanda had left on your life. You had once perceived the maroon to be a sign of warmth and love, of Wanda herself; how could you possibly have known that one day all it would come to mean was the seething red of anger?

End.

[sapphicromanoffxo]

Lucky Ones | v. Missing Piece

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Word count: 3,429

Warnings: Mommy kink, strap on use, spanking, dirty talk, praise kink, squirting, choking, dom/sub dynamic

Summary: Natasha's past is slowly catching up with the present.

A/N: I edited the second chapter and added a tiny information. You can read that one again if you'd like. :)

»»-----------► Series Masterlist

The weather in New York during the start of November carries a gentle breeze, which Natasha particularly enjoys. She has a preference for colder climates, relishing the opportunity to layer her clothing and complete her daily outfits with cozy boots. Perhaps it's her Russian upbringing that influenced this preference, as she lived for years in a predominantly cold climate region before moving to America.

Natasha was having a rather relaxed day at work, and got bored with watching the world through her glass walls so she decided to give her Mom a call, and Milena answered promptly.

"Nat! I'm so delighted you reached out. How's my little one?" Milena inquired with such genuine warmth.

"Mom, I'm actually 35 now. I'm not your little one anymore," Natasha replied with a playful sigh.

"Oh Nat, age doesn't matter; you'll always be my cherished child who used to ask for a glass of milk when she couldn't sleep."

This comment brought a smile to Natasha's face. "Well, I guess milk does work wonders for insomnia."

The two women continued their conversation, catching up on the latest updates from the orphanage and how they were handling the new children.

Listening to Milena's updates triggered memories of Natasha's time at the orphanage. She had been just 13 years old, a teenager, when she found herself in that place. Milena had made sure to create a homey atmosphere, always attentive to her needs, and eager to ensure her comfort. She had been a shy kid who rarely spoke, but Milena's care and kindness had slowly helped her come out of her shell.

Milena's innate motherly instincts stirred within her when it came to Natasha, and she couldn't quite pinpoint the exact reason she felt such a strong connection. Perhaps it was their shared Russian heritage that provided a common bond. Natasha had previously lived in Ohio and was placed in the orphanage by the US government. Milena immediately attended to Natasha, her fragile frame spoke volumes about the hardships she had endured, and her green eyes, once filled with youthful curiosity, now bore the weight of a past too heavy for someone so young.

Milena couldn't help but feel an intense protectiveness toward Natasha. One day, she confided in her husband, Alexei, expressing her desire to adopt Natasha. Understanding the goodness in Natasha's heart, Alexei readily agreed to Milena's heartfelt wish.

The journey through the adoption process was lengthy, but Milena remained resolute in her determination. It wasn't until Natasha reached the age of 15 that the adoption was finalised. That's the first time in Natasha's life where she saw the light again and Milena couldn't contain her joy upon hearing the news. She welcomed Natasha into their loving home.

However, life wasn't all smooth sailing and happiness, as the new parents recognized the need to enroll Natasha in therapy. Natasha had faced a difficult pas and Milena saw this as an opportunity to help Natasha heal, but Natasha was initially hesitant.

"Malysh, this is important for your well-being. It can help you in dealing with your past, and remember, both Alexei and I will be there with you every step of the way," Milena reassured Natasha, gently trying to convince her to give therapy a chance.

"I understand its importance, but I'd rather dedicate my time fully to my education. I have a lot to catch up on since I missed out some years. Please, I'd rather not go to therapy," Natasha pleaded, her hopes resting on Milena's understanding.

Milena carefully considered her options, mindful not to push Natasha into something she had no interest in. She recognized that forcing Natasha into therapy could potentially cause more harm than good.

"Alright, no therapy for now," Milena began, noticing Natasha's readiness for a counterargument. "But," she continued, her tone gentle, "Malysh, please hear me out first." She sighed with relief when Natasha nodded.

"As your mother now, I bear the responsibility for your well-being. Let's find a compromise. How about during your summer break, you can see a therapist, perhaps once or twice a week? I know someone who can help us arrange this."

Natasha contemplated Milena's proposal deeply and eventually gave in.

"Alright, I'll see a therapist only during my summer break," Natasha said with a hint of defeat in her voice, dreading the possibility of her past being revisited, which brought her nothing but discomfort.

"Thank you, dear. I only want what's best for you, do you understand?" Milena reassured her.

"Yes, Milena," Natasha replied with a sense of acceptance.

"Dorogaya, I don't want to take up any more of your time. We will see you here for your birthday, yes?" Milena asked Natasha.

At that moment, Natasha realised that her birthday was just a month away, and she had already made a promise to her mother.

"Of course, I'll be there. I'm looking forward to seeing the changes that you have done at the orphanage," Natasha replied, though her enthusiasm was somewhat muted.

"I must thank you, both for your generous donations and your Dad's. They're making a real difference for the children in need," Milena acknowledged.

"No need to thank me, Mom. I have to give back somehow." Natasha said sincerely.

"You truly don't have to, but your generosity means a lot, not just to me, but to all the kids here," Milena reassured her.

Natasha still wasn't entirely accustomed to Milena's kind compliments, so she remained silent on the other end of the line. The call concluded a few minutes later, leaving Natasha alone with her thoughts. The same question that crossed her mind every day: "Where would I be without Milena?" She sighed deeply and returned to work, attempting to distract herself from dwelling on the past.

*

At 6 PM, Natasha's phone rang, and it was Wanda who was calling her.

"Wanda, is everything alright?" Natasha asked with concern in her voice.

"Yes, everything's fine. I was just wondering if you're done with work? Maybe we could meet up and head home together," Wanda suggested.

"I'm just wrapping up some reports, but I can drive over to your university instead. How does that sound, dear?" Natasha offered.

"Sure, that works! I'll be waiting outside the gate for you. See you later!"

Natasha ended the call and began packing her things. She had something special in mind for tonight, and she hoped Wanda wouldn't be too tired for it.

*

The two women returned home safely, and as they entered, Wanda wasted no time in getting started on preparing dinner. For Wanda, cooking was her way of expressing gratitude for everything Natasha did for her, and she firmly believed in the old saying, "The way to a person's heart is through their stomach."

"So, what's on the menu for tonight, Chef Wanda?" Natasha inquired playfully.

"I thought we could have chicken paprikash. Does that sound good to you?" Wanda asked, a hint of excitement in her voice.

"I'm actually in the mood for bending you over on that counter." Natasha mumbles to herself while she is scrolling through her phone.

"Huh? Did you say something?" Wanda was confused with whatever Natasha could have said.

"Nothing, I said chicken paprikash sounds good." Natasha smiled to herself hiding her devilish grin.

Dinner was fantastic as always. Wanda indeed has a natural talent with cooking but Natasha is impatient for her planned dessert.

"Detka, come over here, please."

Wanda promptly went to the couch and abandoned what she's doing in the kitchen as she immediately sat on Natasha's lap.

"I want to do something tonight and I hope you're open to it." Natasha is slowly caressing Wanda's thighs, teasing her way into making Wanda say yes.

"What is it?" Wanda asked with great curiosity.

"I badly want to fuck you with my cock. Would you like that?" Natasha went straight to the point with no hesitation.

Wanda's thoughts momentarily froze, a whirlwind of excitement and fear swirling within her as Natasha's proposal hung in the air. She would agree with whatever Natasha wants, there is no doubt about it. Wanda was acutely aware that this was the moment when Natasha would unleash her inner predator, and she willingly embraced the role of the willing prey.

"Yes, Miss. I would like that very much."

Natasha will never get tired of seeing how easily Wanda would get into her subspace. A simple command would make her all desperate and needy.

"Go to my room. I want you naked in my bed and make sure you are on your fours."

"Alright, Miss." Wanda stood hastily, her excitement is too obvious in the way she walks and squeezes her thighs.

"What a fucking slut." Natasha whispered to herself, so pleased with Wanda's obedience.

Natasha counted to 50 before heading up to her bedroom. She makes sure that she's in the right headspace before starting anything with Wanda.

Natasha opened the door and was delighted to see Wanda's ass facing her immediately.

"My my. Look at you, kitten. You sure do know how to follow instructions." Natasha needs to build up further Wanda's subspace in order for her to get what she wants.

"Do you know about safe word, Wanda?" Natasha inquired with Wanda since this is her first time.

"No, miss."

"But you do know about the traffic light system?" The older woman inquired even more.

"Yes, Miss. I do know about it."

"It could be applied here as well, if you say green, it means you enjoy what I am doing to you and we will proceed with it. Yellow means you want me to take it slow, and red means stop. I want you to decide your own safe word but I like the simplicity of the color system."

"I want my safe word to be krasnyy."

Natasha was almost not surprised by the chosen word and for Wanda to know the Russian language.

"That means red in Russian. Very well."

Natasha approached the closet where she hides her kinky accessories and reached up to retrieve her trusted harness and a thin rope. It's been a while since she used them and the thought of using them on Wanda thrills her to no end. She attached the harness on her hips and she is contemplating what size of dildo would be sufficient for tonight, since this Wanda's first time, she will use the 7-inch dildo. There's no doubt that she will make it fit through Wanda's tight pussy.

The older woman stood behind Wanda and placed a towel below Wanda's torso then spanked her ass with out any warning.

"Miss!" It made Wanda scream from her throat as the stinging pain in her ass came unexpectedly.

"I hope you know that I noticed every attempt you are making in touching me. Let this be a warning to never ever touch me without permission. Is that clear?" The sound of the second spank reverated inside the room.

Wanda'a eyes widened as her plans were easily busted by the older woman. "Yes, Miss! I'm sorry!"

"Hmm. Let's see about that."

Natasha has no consideration for foreplay tonight. She usually makes Wanda come first through her tongue before she fingers her. But tonight, Natasha would set a firm warning for the younger woman.

"Open your legs wider and put your hands behind your back." Wanda followed the instructions, Natasha grabbed the thin rope then started tying Wanda's wrist on a tight knot. She can't let Wanda's hand roam around her body anymore.

Wanda is easily aroused by Natasha and the obvious dominant stance that is being shown at the very moment which adds more stimulation on her head. Wanda heard the clicking nose and dared to look behind her. She saw Natasha lathering the dildo with a good amount of lubricant and the slow stroking movement made her squeeze her thighs for temporary pleasure.

Natasha positioned the toy in front of the younger woman's core. A sinister voice is whispering in Natasha's ear to penetrate Wanda immediately, however, this needs to be taken as gently as possible. She can go as rough as she wants once Wanda is adjusted anyway.

Natasha buried her cock as slowly as she can muster. Wanda groans at every inch that goes inside her and further stretching her pussy.

"Fuck! Miss! Shit! I don't think it will fit. You're so big– ahhh!" Wanda couldn't even finish her sentence as the pleasure consumes her sanity.

"Baby, you can take it. I will make it fit on this tight pussy of yours."

Wanda simply nodded and trusted Natasha with her pleasure.

Once the cock is all buried inside Wanda, Natasha took it out slowly and rammed back in making Wanda moan in wanton.

Natasha started her brutal thrust and did not slow down upon hearing Wanda's blissful whimpers.

"Natty, please! Slow down a bit. You're so— hmmp!" Wanda pleaded since she's too overwhelmed with the intense mixture of pleasure and pain.

"Huh? We are not slowing down, detka. I know you like being fucked like a whore with your ass on display like this." Natasha's cruel words are getting into Wanda's head which made her respond in an unexpected way.

"Yes yes! Mommy, please fuck me harder!"

Bingo. Natasha grinned like a madwoman that she is at the moment. Another theory has been tested right. This girl is going to be the death of her.

Natasha leaned forward, closer to Wanda and growled at her while she grabbed Wanda's hair, "Say it again for me, baby girl. Go on. Tell mommy how you like to fucked."

"Ahhhh! Mommy mommy! Fuck me like a slut that I am. Go faster, please!"

The bedroom is filled with Natasha's unforgiving thrusts combined with the sound of the slapping of flesh against one another. Natasha is gripping Wanda's hips so hard which is gonna leave a bruise right after.

Natasha's right hand then grabbed a fistful of Wanda's hair and pulled her closer to her chest. "What a fucking slut. Telling Mommy what she wants. You need to learn how to accept what is being given!" Natasha growled in Wanda's ear while she's still abusing her tight hole and her thrusts are unmerciful.

Wanda can no longer comprehend what is going on in her head as Natasha is hitting all the right places inside her. "Mommy, just like that. Please don't stop. I'm so close. Please please!"

"I wish I have a real dick right now. I bet your squeezing me so fucking hard. This pussy is mine to fuck. You understand?" Natasha emphasised her words by wrapping her left hand on Wanda's throat and choking the younger woman. She makes sure she's applying the correct pressure in order to make Wanda feel lightheaded.

"Fuck, yes! This pussy is yours ahh– Mommy! I'm cumming!"

"Cum on my dick, you fucking slut!" Natasha growled and continued her powerful thrusts which made Wanda squirt, intensifying the orgasm even further.

Natasha's movements slowed down eventually and pulled the toy out then removed it all together from her hips, also taking away the towel underneath Wanda. Taking a small damp towel, Natasha gently cleansed Wanda's thighs, carefully untied the knots that had previously bound Wanda's wrists and examed the faint red imprints they had left behind. Natasha then proceeded to apply a soothing lotion to Wanda's wrists to reduce the noticeable marks.

Wanda slumped on the bed and was silent for the first few minutes, trying to regain her wits and mind.

"Wanda, are you with me?"

Wanda found herself momentarily lost in thought, something had slipped her mind and mouth during their passionate moment.

"Wanda?" Natasha repeated, a hint of concern in her voice, as she started to become alarmed by Wanda's silence.

"I'm sorry," Wanda finally spoke up.

"What for, baby?" Natasha inquired with a gentle tone.

"I said something earlier. I didn't expect myself to say it," Wanda confessed.

Noticing Wanda's hesitation, Natasha probed further. "What did you say? I'm sure you said many things, but I'd like you to be more specific, sweetheart." Natasha shifted, lying on her side to face Wanda, who remained in the same position.

"Well, I, uh... I called you 'Mommy.' I feel so embarrassed about it," Wanda mumbled, hiding her face in the pillows and unable to meet Natasha's gaze.

"Detka, please, look at me," Natasha gently urged, and Wanda slowly lifted her face to meet Natasha's understanding gaze.

"There's absolutely nothing wrong with what you said. In fact, I like it very much," Natasha reassured Wanda gently while caressing Wanda's back.

"You do? You don't find it strange that I called you that?" Wanda asked, her uncertainty evident.

"No, baby. It is perfectly fine with me. You're perfect. I promise. So stop that pretty mind of yours from overthinking. Okay?"

"Alright. If you say so." Wanda replied with a small smile, feeling reassured.

Both women cleaned themselves separately as what happens every night. Tonight, Natasha made her warning clear to Wanda to refrain from touching her, and this warning is embedded in her mind. But Wanda can still try if she wants to, right?

"How was your day, baby?" Natasha initiated a conversation when they got back in bed since she's too keyed up after tonight's activities.

"Nothing much happened today. It was a slow day for me. But we had a transferee, her name is MJ. She looks familiar, and I couldn't quite place where I'd seen her before. So, I decided to approach her after our class," she explained.

"Interesting. How did that conversation go?" Natasha inquired.

"Do you remember the orphanage I told you about, the one in New Jersey?"

Natasha concealed her emotions as best as she could. "Yes, I recall. The one where you and Pietro stayed, yes?"

"That's the one. It turns out, MJ was there as well not long after Pietro and I arrived. But I don't think we ever became friends during our time there, since she was adopted."

"How long did you both stay at the orphanage?" Natasha tried to play pretend in her questions to appear interested.

"Well, we were placed there when we were 12 years old. Then, they enrolled us in a program to catch up on our education because we had missed out on so much. Then we left when we turned 18. So, in total, we spent 6 years there."

Changing the subject, Natasha asked, "So, where is Pietro now? I realise we haven't talked much about him lately." She wanted to steer the conversation away from the sensitive topic.

"We talk through the phone every now and then. He's a scholar since he is a race track runner in Michigan. Would you like to meet him one day?" Wanda asked enthusiastically.

"Sure, baby. I want to meet your twin brother of course."

"Thank you, Natty. You are the best." Wanda beamed, her happiness evident as she leaned in to plant a loving kiss on Natasha's lips. "I think we should get some rest now. You've completely worn me out tonight."

Natasha couldn't help but chuckle at Wanda's confession. "Alright, sleep it is. Good night, detka." She pressed a tender kiss to Wanda's forehead before adjusting herself in bed, positioning herself as the big spoon.

"Good night, Natty." Wanda drew Natasha's arm closer to her and slowly drifted into peaceful slumber.

As Natasha lay there, her thoughts began to drift, and she contemplated how long she could keep her past from Wanda. She'd noticed how openly Wanda wore her heart on her sleeve and looks at her like she's the best thing on earth while unaware of her checkered past. Wanda had a way of making her experience emotions she thought she wasn't capable of feeling. Wanda is like a radiant sun that disperses the darkness of her gloomy days, and, as cliché as it may sound, she truly embodies that sentiment.

However, a sense of fear loomed over Natasha, she dreaded the possibility that if Wanda were to ever discover the truth, she might choose to leave, run away from her and the tangled web of secrets that had defined Natasha's life.

It wasn't that Natasha was deliberately lying to Wanda. She was simply omitting important information that could potentially change or destroy their relationship. She held onto the hope that one day, she would gather the courage to share her past, to open up and reveal the parts of herself she'd kept hidden for so long. And in that moment, she could only pray to the heavens above that Wanda would understand and accept her, scars and all.