#jazz piano course

[ajrdileva]

Jazz Piano for Beginners: Play "All Of You" with Rootless Chords. Tutorial

Jazz pianists often use rootless voicings to create a more open and modern sound. These voicings allow for greater flexibility in the left hand, while the right hand can play the melody or improvisation. In this tutorial, we’ll show you how to play “All Of You” using rootless voicings, and how to apply the same techniques to any other jazz standard. What you’ll learn in this tutorial First,…

[mishalikessoundsandcolours]

For some reason this song title reminds me of The Man Who Fell To Earth in a way

Like partially it's because of the word 'subterranean' since Bowie's track Subterraneans from Low was initially written when he tried to do the soundtrack for tmwfte and other than that it's just the feeling of the song ig? I know it's not what it's really about, that was just my first association, it is really beautiful though (me and my piano teacher went on a tangent about Radiohead today so that's what I've been listening to all evening lol)

[serendipnpipity]

I finally watched Interactive Introverts for the first time and immediately knew I had to learn the closing song on the piano!

Tried my best to write down what I played for anyone else who wants to try it. (Multiple pages, under the cut!) ❤️🤍

**all rights to the melody and original music go to Daniel Howell and Phil Lester, only the piano arrangement is mine**

[arrangeurcompositeurmusicien]

Thème dans un style course poursuite.

[iamlisteningto]

Fiona Apple's Tidal

[alexiroflife]

"it's not for me to say"

tooth rotting, stomach aching, heart palpitating fluff

kento nanami x reader

Synopsis: you and your husband share a dance in your living room after your anniversary dinner

to sum it up: married life with nanami >>>>

WC: 1,429

Warning(s): none

It's not for me to say you love me

It's not for me to say you'll always care

The room is empty. The fairy lights strung messily about the four corners of the walls light up the space delicately as the vinyl spins tirelessly in the corner, confined to the needle that the deep red record player presses into the disc. Dirty dinner plates sit atop the oak wood of the dining table, the disarray of kitchenware and dishes completely forgotten. The fireplace burns and crackles comfortingly, warming the legs of the couple standing just a few feet away from it. The soft vocals of muffled jazz matches with the gentle hums emitting from the dirty blonde's lips as he holds his partner close. The rest of the home stands still and silent, as if frozen in time to allow the serenity of the darling moments occuring within the dining room to extend into the night.

Oh, but here for the moment I can hold you fast

Your head is tucked just under Nanami’s chin and cheek pressed against his chest. The softness of your hair tickles his neck perfectly, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks at the gentle feeling: a reminder of your gentle grace. His large hand holds your waist snugly to his body, his fingers caressing the satin fabric of the crimson dress he purchased you for this very occasion. His left hand holds yours out, bejeweled fingers moving to trace your palm to imitate the strikes of the piano keys dancing in the background. Your eyes stay closed in serenity while they sway lazily to the music. You are far too busy soaking up the warmth of the fire against your skin and the warmth emanating off of your lover's embrace to be interrupted by opening your eyes just yet. You want to savor this, engrave it into your mind so that it may stay with you for years to come.

Nanami’s lips ghost over her forehead, sending the vibrations of his hums throughout your skin.

And press your lips to mine

And dream that love will last

The sorcerer’s heart hammers against his ribs in the best way imaginable, his chestnut eyes swollen with admiration. Happiness is a concept that had grown foreign to him for the majority of his life, and when he finally stumbled upon it by meeting you, he found it almost humorous that one person could enter his dull course of existence and change everything he believed he had known prior. 

The blonde inhales slowly through his nose as he pulls back to look down at the woman in his arms. You lift your head when you feel him shift against you and slowly blink open your eyes to gaze up at him softly. The deep (e/c) of your irises drags him deeper into her gaze, his pupils dilating almost instantly as he takes in your breathtaking features. Your free hand lifts from his shoulder and brushes the side of his face lightly and the short, silky strands of his hair blissfully. Your red glossed lips stretch into a dreamy smile upon taking in your husband’s striking face, eyes crinkling with the pull of your lips upward. Your knuckles graze over his sharp cheekbones, feeling his skin grow heated under your touch. His eyes flicker from yours to your nose, your lips, and all across her face. He could only define you as a dream, and in times like these, he could not believe that you were married to him.

As far as I can see this is heaven

And speaking just for me, it's ours to share

Nanami releases your hand and wraps both of his arms around your waist, yours instinctively moving to wrap around his neck. He leans forward so slowly until his nose brushes against yours. He feels your arms tighten around him as he brings his lips to press between your eyebrows tenderly. He then kisses your nose and the corner of her mouth before resting his forehead against yours. The blonde hears you release a contented sigh and smiles, proceeding to sway you in his arms as his thumbs rub the small of your back. Your lavender scent fills his senses, sending his mind into a blur. You’re everywhere, in his arms, in his mind, and in his heart. He closes his eyes this time, clinging to this peace and wishing it could last forever.

Perhaps the glow of love will grow with every passing day

He doesn’t want to lose this feeling. This terrible, beautiful, world-altering feeling. He wants to hold onto it, to you, for as long as he can, for he had been alone far too long before you brought light into his existence. Thinking back to a time when work occupied his loneliness when he didn't have your face to study in the mornings as the sun peaked shyly through the curtains, when he didn't have your stories to listen to as you rambled on about whatever your sophisticated mind was overanalyzing, or when he didn't have you to simply love and respect wholeheartedly; it made him wonder how he had come so far without you by his side. 

Nanami goes to bed each night pleading the universe not to take you, his lovely wife, away from him. You’re perfect; kind and understanding, far too perfect for this wounded planet. You work too hard and care too much for others, and he even finds your flaws are beautifully imperfect. To even think about your perfection, how perfectly you fit into his life and into his home choked him up and tightened his throat with gratitude. 

Or we may never meet again

But then, it's not for me to say

You can feel Nanami’s emotional thoughts as you look up at him curiously. Your hands move to hold his cheeks daintily, finding a better angle to look at his loving, thoughtful expression. You coo softly at the vision of him, whipped for you just as you are for him. You stroke his hair deftly, eyes scanning every familiar mark and handsome curve in his features. His glossy eyes meet yours in the midst of your touch, and no words are spoken. Only gazes were exchanged. 

He watches you intensely as you lean upward to close the distance, breaths fanning against each other’s lips. Your lips meet his in a chaste peck, his hands instinctively pressing further into her waist. You tilt your head and kiss the corner of his jaw next, and find yourself stifling a quiet giggle when you notice the imprint of your lipstick on his skin. The sound of your laughter sends a jolt to Nanami’s heart and dries his mouth, and he can’t fight the grin creeping onto his face within a matter of seconds, for absolutely anything you do makes him so wholly and indescribably happy. You make him feel like a damn teenager, or the kind of teen he would have been if he had not been negatively impacted by his experience at Jujutsu High, but that was all in the past. You are his present and his future. You are everything.

You bury your face into the crook of his neck and squeal when your feet suddenly leave the ground and your body is spun around giddily. 

And speaking just for me, it's ours to share

Perhaps the glow of love will grow with every passing day

Love is such a feeble word for what you two share, for it’s impossible to stuff the amount of time spent in each other’s arms, the plethora of stressed and exhausted tears shed, the range of sleepless nights you spent waiting your husband to return home anxiously, the meaningless arguments sparked by miscommunicated frustration and passion, the hardships overcome, and the way your souls bonded together throughout nights of prolonged passion into one, stupid made up word. A little word could never encapsulate the whole of the feeling Nanami experiences any time your skin touches his, or the complete security and luxury you feel under the protection of his affectionate gaze. What you have is more than love. More than any kind of emotion that can be searched online or found in a dictionary. More than you and him, more than the earth, more than the very universe. 

So you slow dance in your living room. soaking in one another because it is all you can do to say more than “I love you.”

Or we may never meet again

But then, it's not for me to say

[guitarstringed-scars]

cantaloupe island

atsumu miya HATES jazz. unfortunately for him, his brother is starting a new event at his restaurant. live jazz every friday night. even more unfortunately, he’s expected to help out. on the very first friday, word gets out of atsumus hatred, and the groups pianist dedicates herself to making atsumu fall in love. with jazz of course. what else?

atsumu miya x f!reader

warnings/notes: timeskip, kys jokes, lots and lots of jazz references, it comes with the territory sorry! strangers to frenemies (idk weird term) to lovers, language, alcohol, reader plays piano, jazz haters (its truly heartbreaking), smau, lots of grammar mistakes, some maybe purposeful idk yet, some written content, mostly smau though probably, check chapters for any other warnings

taglist: open! send an ask or reply to be added!

status: ongoing

intros: the osaka quintet - the goats

one: take the "A" train

two: red clay

three: round midnight

four: tea for two

[thediaryofaurora]

General HCs

Bloody Painter/Helen Otis

This bad boy is LONNGG, I included a lot of his backstory in this. Writers block is beating my ass. 💔

- Twenty one!

- 6’1. When I say this dudes lanky, I mean LANKY. Slim and naturally toned, his main exercise comes from chasing or climbing stairs.

- Both of his parents are Korean, but he was raised in Pennsylvania.

- His parents struggled with getting pregnant, most ending is miscarriages. His mom was completely batshit, so when the pregnancy stuck she swore she had some divine intuition that made her believed he’d be a girl. She didn’t even bother having an ultrasound, so when he was born and she saw that he was a boy she thought him being a girl was some sort of prophecy she needed to fulfill.

- His whole life she had always told him he was meant to be a girl and he would be going against ‘God’s will’ if he didn’t follow through. He was always dressed in feminine clothing and had an extremely girly room. His mother didn’t put him in school until he was about thirteen, since she thought the kids would taint his mind and make him think he’s a boy.

- When he was put in school he got bullied RELENTLESSLY. His name, the way he dressed, everything. After meeting Tom he slowly started to realize that all the shit he grew up with wasn’t normal and his mom was psycho, so he started borrowing his clothes and changing in the school bathrooms so he could feel less weird. Once Tom admitted to planting Judy’s watch in Helen’s bag, they argued on the roof while getting slightly physical. Tom had slipped off the edge, but Helen managed to grab him. Of course, a middle schooler isn’t necessarily strong enough to hold another off a building without going down with them, so Tom let go to save Helen. Rumors spread that Helen had pushed him, but no one cared enough to investigate.

- After that school year was over he started to dress more androgynous/ masculine and ignored his mom’s pressure, which lead to her abusing him both physically and mentally. Eventually, with his ignored mental issues and the abuse he completely snapped, killing his mom and several of his bullies right before a Halloween party. He was sent to a psychiatric hospital that Slender ended up taking him from.

- VERY polite and proper. He’s pretty soft spoken and his grammar is like never flawed, big word user. 1000% the type of guy to kiss your hand as a greeting. The most he’ll do if he doesn’t like you is give you the silent treatment or a dirty look.

- Weird little detail, but his fingers and SLIM and LONG. His nails are neatly kept. He likes to pamper himself.

- He does botany in his free time! Any flower arrangements in the mansion and the gardens outside are his doing. There’s a few residents that he brings bouquets to every other week so they can have something nice. EJ, Sally, and Jane are his usual market. Also does flower pressing.

- Used to do ballet when he was about 4-7.

- Definitely the safest driver, but that makes him a pain as a get away driver. Always goes the exact speed limit and follows every possible law.

- Mainly listens to classical music. However, he does like Billy Joel, Fleetwood Mac, David Bowie, even a little bit of Queen.

- His room is SO nice and very big. Long sheer curtains, velvet & silk bedding, a grand piano, flowers, tall bookshelves, chairs, a large bed with a canopy, big windows, and lots of sculptures and framed paintings done by him. He’s really into elegant things and floral patterns. Has a mural on his ceiling!

- Hangs out with EJ, Liu, Puppeteer, and Jane. Rarely does he talk to any of the proxies or any creeps he’s not close with. Awfully reserved.

- Loves the fine arts. Painting, writing, music, sculpting, all that jazz. Occasionally does poetry! Him and Liu both like to write, so sometimes they’ll get together and talk about it. He mostly reads old classic books & poetry.

- Jane has taught him how to sew, although he doesn’t find much use for it.

- He has a white persian cat named Juliette in his room no one knows about other than his close friends. She never leaves the room, but she’s content; it has enough room to have lots of things just for her. He has a MASSIVE painting of her renaissance style by her bed. (He got her one of those fancy cat beds that look like a tiny rich person couch.) Pampers her to death.

- I know in his canon design he has that denim kinda jacket on with the pin, but in my HC he wouldn’t be caught dead wearing that. Usually wears jeans and baggy button ups while he’s painting, but his day to day outfits are well put together. Rich person style in clothes — turtle necks, slacks, dress shoes, almost kind of dark academia.

- Super high standards in general, but especially when it comes to food. Fine dining for sure. Usually buys only enough ingredients for a serving just for him so he doesn’t have to leave them in the fridge. He doesn’t trust the other residents at ALL.

- This guy is ROLLING in it. He has so much loose cash from victims he can do whatever the hell he wants, big reason why his cat is living like royalty.

- Drinks at least one glass of wine a day. He has an entire rack in his room of old, fine wines. A lot of them are from Europe.

- For whatever reason, he’s an amazing masseuse.

- All of his candles and soaps are very high quality and expensive. He won’t settle for anything less.

- Can play the piano and the violin! He would kill to have a harpsichord, he might.

- He’s not big on history, but he could talk for hours about the titanic. He’s done paintings of it and has watched every possible documentary on it. Thinks the movie is a work of art.

I hope you all liked this! I love this fine man.

❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎

[patricia-taxxon]

any advice on getting my paws wet with music theory? i realize that this probably doesn't actually mean all that much, but every time i use a daw without a "highlight every note in the scale" feature, programming midi suddenly becomes very cerebral and i have to repeatedly mentally calculate which notes are in the scale ("okay" to use), which is frustrating. my spatial reasoning is incredibly poor and i can't just go off of vibes anymore. i feel like i'm missing the point, or something

Honestly, this might be a disappointing answer, but in order to gain intuition with it you probably need to gain beginner/intermediate level proficiency with a musical instrument, it's gonna be memorization and math until you can get those ideas out of your paws. It's just the shape of the information, a lot of jazz theory is based on the spacial quality of the piano keys, a lot of rock theory is based on the spacial quality of the fretboard, etc. And listen to a lot of music, of course. Once you can feel the diatonicism on your clawtips, you're gucci.

[cheesus-doodles]

Yan! South and fluff.

Do what you want with it i just need more of this pookie bear that would never hurt anyone🩷

Masterlist | More South fics/asks

‎

been a hot minute! gentle reminder that my asks are closed at the moment :)

I wouldn’t say South would never hurt anyone…but this boy certainly has a lot of love to give, and there was no one more worthy than you to be the receipient.

With you, South was like a completely different man. Gone was the violent, merciless delinquent he usually is, and left in its place was a kind, loving man who had lost his childhood and was keen to make up, who would never dream of doing you harm. So very careful never to bruise your porcelain skin with his otherworldly strength, you can be sure that even if this boy ever gets mad at you - not that he does, his patience for what he will put up with when it comes to you is almost unlimited unless it's leaving him - South would try everything before resorting to physical means. And for someone as bloodthirsty as him, that is saying a lot.

‎

We all know how much South loves music at this point - even his entire fighting language revolves around it - and no doubt even though he freely shares his passion with the rest of his gang, happy to sing and give a show when they were keen to listen, South would share his love of music with you in much more intimate ways, away from the prying eyes of the rest of the world.

No doubt his ideal date would be a lot quieter than what anyone would expect from someone that looks like him: just you and him at his place . If South had his way, it would be where you would spend all your time, not just whatever free time you could spare, but alas you kicked up a fuss about missing school and the boy relented. He absolutely loves to play the piano and sing with you seated in his lap; you’re barely a hindrance with his enormous stature, a perfect fit if he would say. Would go out of his way to learn what your favourites songs and tunes are so that he can learn how to play and sing them just for you. Of course he would prefer if you liked the same kind of music that he did, but this boy doesn’t mind either way; music is music, and you are you.

Would even offer to teach you how to play the piano if you want to, and would be so very patient with you while you learnt. He’s happy that you would take the time and put effort into something that brings him so much joy, would spend the entire time with his arms around your waist and his chin on the top of your head.

‎

Carries you everywhere on his shoulders as if you weighed nothing, because you basically did. Next to him that is. This boy has incredible strength and stamina, and keeping you up and away from the riff-raft of the common people. Not because he dislikes them, but more so because he doesn't trust them around you. You weren’t always with him (yet), and someone could get funny ideas when you were alone.

And it's not like South wouldn't enjoy bringing you out either, why wouldn’t he? Shows you off whenever he gets the chance to in fact. Aside from bringing you to the occasional gang meetings, his top choice would be a live-music bar, preferably blues or jazz, nothing too noisy or jarring. After all, he was here first and foremost to enjoy your company, and he wanted you to be able to enjoy yourself with him as well. No one is going to dare approach the booth with the giant foreign man all but dwarfing you, so you will have to be the one to go up and place the orders for the two of you.

You would be the maybe the only person alive who knew that South had a collection of soft toys by his bed that this boy couldn't sleep without. And you would also be the only person that South would willing to share his collection with you. Most of them are really old and fragile, and even with your He still watches you closely while you handle them, of course, but if you do choose to cuddle with them, this boy can't guarantee that he wouldn't die of happiness.

‎

Of course it would help greatly if you were a willing party in this entire debacle, that you truly wanted to be with South and that it isn't just South playing out a delusion in his mind. Because in this delinquent's eyes, it has always been a two-way relationship. With how much time stronger this boy is compared to you, he could probably wrangle you into submission without even realizing it, manhandling you whenever he wanted to do something that you weren't keen to do, all the while believing that you wanted nothing more than to be with him.

[ajrdileva]

The Ultimate Guide to Pentatonic Voicings for Jazz Pianists: An Interactive Course

Introduction Pentatonic voicings are a valuable tool for jazz pianists and arrangers, as demonstrated by masters such as McCoy Tyner, Chick Corea, and Herbie Hancock. They provide a fresh perspective on voicings and can add depth and interest to your playing. In this interactive PDF course, Pentatonic Voicings by mDecks Music, you’ll learn how to build and practice these essential voicings, and…

[merlucide]

What’s their taste in music?

notes: playing around with sizing hehe-

characters: Barou, Sendou, Chigiri, Bachira, Reo, Oliver, Hiori, Otoya

barou shoei

classical music 100%

Cmon my dude mediates- how obvious does it needa be? I feel like piano would be his favorite but also really likes cello or other deep string instruments. He normally just puts on the default classical music playlists lmao. Though I do think he would like Red hot chilli peppers for some reason. Definitely hard no on metal or anything really with intense drums. He can’t stand the loud aggressive music, he thinks it’s unhinged and frenetic.

sendou shuto

sendou listens to rap cus he thinks it makes him cooler💀 I can see it so clearly omg- 

Listens to Eminem obviously, and his favorite song from him is rap god. His hype song is NEW ORLEANS by BROCKHAMPTON. He feels so badass listening to it lmao. Though what he really likes is pop, Brittney spears, Dua lipa, Lady Gaga, etc etc.

chigiri hyoma 

Okay I can see Chigiri liking a few types of music for like different moods yk.

I think he’d like XXXTENTACION, he listens to his more ‘intense’ songs when he runs. He likes YuNg BrAtZ, when he wants to listen to depressing music he likes Orlando. 

He’d like rock too, The white stripes and Nirvana would be his go toos.

When he’s getting really into his workout he puts on Disturbed and occasionally SlipKnot when he’s tryna push himself.

ALSO I CAN 100% SEEING HIM LISTENING TO SLEEP TOKEN?!? OMG YEAH???

(RIP XXX.)

bachira meguru

Hear me out okay.

Voicaloid. 

IK IK- I think Bachira would really like the fast pace and excitement in their songs. He just likes Hyperpop, it’s like an energy boost he don’t need anymore energy

His all time favorites are Rin Rin Signal and Poppippo.

ALSO THE LIVING TOMBSTONE. UGH HE WOULD LIKE THEM RIGHT???? Discord would be on loop 24/7 are u kidding me

mikage reo

I think that since he grew up classy n rich he’d listen to classical music and such. he really likes Violin/Viola. Listening to it brings him great comfort and peace. Reo really likes Jazz too. Obviously Reo explored other types of music to see what else there is .definitely did it as an act of ‘rebellion’ lmao-  He isn’t really a fan of metal or rock but likes Alt. I can see him listening to The neighborhood or Radiohead. He also likes Adele.

aiku oliver

likes the more chill stuff, like Noah Kahan or Big thief. He’s a pretty laid back guy and doesn’t feel the need to rage through music lmao- Though I can see him liking Chase Atlantic. And I know for a fact if you put on any cunty music he’d know all of the lyrics to the songs. Ayesha Erotica, Chase Icon, or even porn-ish singerslike cupcakke he’d know the words to em💀

hiori yo

..

death metal.

..

Like we talking cannibal corpse, the fallen prophecies, and on calm days, SlipKnot.

he gotta cope somehow ig😶

Like you could ask him what he’s listening too and expect him to listen to like Drake or sum and he’s like ‘oh I’m listening to Murderous Rampage by Cannibal Corpse’. 

.. 😶

Like dawg wut😭

otoya eita 

he’d listen to Drake, Lil Uzi Vert and Kanye West without doubt. 

Pls he’s the most basic, generic, un-unique ‘frat boy’ ever, of course he’d listen to them. He thinks he all hot stuff jamming out to em, all dripped out in his basic ass fit, and ugly beanie, ew. Ugh I hate this hoe🙄 (jk he’s bbg 🤭) also I’m not hating on any of these artists, I like their music- DONT TAKS NUFFIN PERSONAL PLS

lemme know if u wanna pt2 or whatever mkay

made March 17th 2024

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"Two strangers, not strangers

Only lacking the knowing

So willing, feeling

Infinite growing

While we're here, the whole world is turning

We should be, one, fulfilling the yearning

You can see inside me, will you come inside me

Do you wanna ride, inside my love"

Trina Broussard— "Inside my Love"

A.N.: Content Warning. Smut ahead. Grown folks only. 18+.

Celeste's left hand jerked out wildly to flip on the light switch inside her home. The cottage lit up with a bright pink glow from her vintage stained-glass Tiffany lamps. Her legs were still wrapped around Terry's hips. She climbed down his tree-trunk body and stepped aside, letting him swagger past the threshold of her home. A black baby grand piano that belonged to a deceased aunt had bags of feathers, beads, unfinished patches, and sequins strewn all across it, making the front of the place look messy and disheveled.

"I'll just move these into the other room where they belong," she said.

Terry looked past her into the living room. A smirk crinkled his lips. Celeste looked over her shoulder.

"Oh my, God. I'm so sorry that you see that…give me a second…"

She hurried past him to pick up the ten-inch dildo left in the middle of the floor with the camera set up.

"I know this looks weird…shit…shit…" she sputtered, frantically pulling up the dildo that released with a loud suction pop from the wooden floor. She gathered up the bottle of lube, pillows and dumped them into her sewing room.

Terry took a seat on the recliner end of her purple leather sectional that took up most of the space in the living room right after the baby grand. He watched her pick up the pillows and a sheet, tossing them into her bedroom. She walked back out with her hands on top of her head, embarrassed beyond measure.

"That looked bad…I know."

"Well, you're single now. Looks like you planned a fun night for yourself," he said.

The playfulness of his voice relaxed her, and she pointed toward her kitchen.

"I'll make us those hot drinks," she said, grabbing his bag of leftover food and scampering off.

"Take your time," he called out.

Celeste put his food in the fridge and pulled out a container of half and half. She rested her hands on the kitchen sink and closed her eyes. The shame! She browbeat her own self for not straightening out the living room before she left. Of course, she hadn't planned on inviting him over. Time to save face.

She poured water into a stainless steel percolator and opened a tin of chicory coffee from Café Du Monde, then poured a measured scoop into the coffee filter. After it started bubbling, she grabbed two coffee mugs from her cupboard and prepared their drinks with half and half and a couple of sugar cubes.

"Get it together…pretend the dildo never happened," she whispered to herself before carrying the mugs out into the living room.

She set their coffee down on two coasters and sat demurely next to him. Her locs flowed over her shoulders, giving her a regal appearance.

"Your home is very eclectic…feels cozy too," he said, surveying her taste in vibrant, colorful decorations.

She filled her walls with Mardi Gras feathers and personal beadwork that she mounted on frames, along with pictures of mid-century carnival second lines and jazz funerals. There were whimsical art nouveau pieces from specialty shops around town she purchased of stain-glassed butterflies and Black fairies. French doors that led to the small courtyard out back stayed hidden behind saffron double-laced drapes that her grandmother made for her.

She jumped up and dimmed the setting on the lamp lights. Her purse sat on top of the baby grand. She checked the front door lock to make sure it was secure.

"Your phone kept buzzing in your purse," he said.

He'd lifted his coffee mug and puckered his lips to blow the hot steam away from the drink. Celeste rummaged through her purse and pulled out her cell. Mercy and Nae Nae had both responded to the group text she sent out. She ran her fingertip across the keypad, letting them know he was in her home having coffee. Three green chat bubbles danced on the screen as Mercy typed back something.

YOU BROUGHT THAT MAN HOME WITH YOU?!

Celeste glanced at Terry who sipped his drink and surveyed the surroundings like it was a museum installation. Her artsy style always impressed visitors, especially with the limited space a cottage afforded her. She typed a quick message back.

I'LL LET Y'ALL KNOW HOW THINGS GO IN CASE I NEED THE CAVALRY!

Celeste carried her silenced phone back to the couch and placed it on a side table. She joined Terry and savored the coffee after a pleasant outing.

"This is very good. A nice way to end the evening with you," he said.

She fretted in her seat, wondering how to salvage the poor impression she made on him. He reached over and stroked her arm.

"Are you still thinking about the sex toy on the floor?"

Celeste's head slumped forward, and he laughed again, the rich baritone filling up her home and taking the tension out of her shoulders. Those emerald eyes worked their magic again like they did in the restaurant, driving her to spill out her life in intimate ways she'd never do with anyone else on a first date.

"I can explain—"

"You don't have to."

"I want to."

She tucked a thick loc behind one ear and left his side for a second and retrieved the plantation pictures from her refrigerator.

Handing them to Terry, she sat next to him again.

"One day I want to buy a home like these. I've been saving money and working two jobs for the last two years. On top of my sewing and hustling extra money, I ventured into online fetish content. I have pretty feet, so…I created a website on a BDSM platform to sell explicit pictures and videos. I filmed my first video tonight…right before you called me out for dinner."

"Okay…is that it?"

"Yeah."

"Do you need a director?"

Celeste cackled and threw a hand over her mouth, and Terry grinned, looking at her legs. He lifted her left foot and tugged at her modest heel.

"I want to see these pretty feet men are paying to see," he teased.

She brushed at his hand, but he already pulled the heel off. He gently massaged her toes through the thigh-high, sheer black stockings and his touch shot ticklish sparks up her leg.

"You stand on your feet all day…working hard to achieve your dream. I'd never judge you for doing something that helps you do that. I think it's sexy. You do have attractive feet, by the way…"

He stared at her foot as he kept kneading out the day through his fingers and she leaned back in the sectional to give him more room to work. She even kicked off the other shoe, and he worked on that tired foot, too.

"You deserve the world, Celeste Profitt," he said.

He kissed each toe of her left foot and inched his soft lips to her ankle and further along her leg until he stopped above the kneecap, just at the junction where the stocking and her uncovered skin met.

"Is this okay?" he asked, waiting for permission to continue.

"Yesss," she hissed, bewitched by those eyes that transformed into something dangerous…predatory.

Was this how the devil tricked Eve inside the Garden of Eden? Not by ripe red apples or promises of wisdom, but jade jewels for eyes that blazed with seduction. His lids nearly closed to mere slits, and the blood in her veins chilled at how viper-like he looked arched across her leg.

The cautious voice of Celeste's cousin rattled in her ear with his warning from the night on Bourbon Street.

"Uh uh…no ma'am. Leave that one alone."

Dangerous.

Sinful.

Unholy.

Her eyes blurred. She looked at Terry as if she'd plunged under water and the liquid distorted her vision. His canine teeth seemed sharper than she remembered them being. He slid his tongue across them and she blinked, thinking the pink lighting in her home played tricks on her.

"Terry…"

He slithered his lips onto her lower inner thigh and pushed her dress up to her hips, revealing her thong underwear. Licking her thigh, the moisture from his tongue soaked through the stocking. Celeste stayed still, afraid to break the spell he had over her.

"May I keep going?" he asked.

"Please," she said, with a quiver in her voice.

He gave the crotch of her thong a delicate kiss with his plush lips, moving higher until the tip of his tongue twirled around her clit. The friction from the thong combined with the pressure of his tongue on her sensitive jewel arched her back high. She palmed his head with both hands, hoping to tether herself. Her vulva swelled with juicy arousal and her inner labia puffed with engorgement. He hooked a finger and slid her thong aside.

"Here is the real meal," he hummed, pushing his mouth into her vulva.

His tongue traced invisible sigils of circular shapes and Celeste watched her pussy slicken his mouth until it glistened with her wetness. He slathered her labia with saliva and dragged his wide, hot tongue along her inner thigh. She yelped when she felt a nip from his teeth on her flesh and then a sharp numbness flooded that area, removing the sting of pain.

He licked her vulva again before feasting on her clit, sucking it with a dexterous mouth that never stopped tasting, teasing, and licking every inch of her pussy.

"You taste so good…the blood…your pussy…so good…" he hummed into her flesh.

Her skin aflame, Celeste let all the exquisite sensations flow through her body. She needed this. Needed this man. Needed his mouth. His tongue. His rough teeth…

Another quick stinging sensation pricked her thigh again, and Terry took his time sucking on that spot and fingering her clit. He plucked at the responsive bud.

"Terry!" she cried out, unable to endure the pleasure of his mouth on her thigh and his fingers playing a symphony on her clit at the same time.

The palm of his huge hand pushed her back down and held her in place.

"Do. Not. Move."

The stern tone forced her into submission. She wanted to obey. Badly. His tongue and lips became savage instruments on her pussy. He pushed her legs back, and she held them for him while he ripped her thong into shreds yanking them off. Her eyes drifted to the ceiling as she noticed the feeling of intoxication taking over her body. It was like being high on exceptional weed or rolling on high-grade ecstasy. Their shadows mingled above her, performing their own sexual dance separate from them.

Terry rose above her, and she could clearly see the heavy erection bulging through his pants. She whimpered at the sight. His shit was big. Gold help her. He lowered his face and kissed her, the taste of her pussy and chicory coffee delicious in her own mouth. She licked her wetness from his lips and he held still to enjoy her tongue's affectionate ministrations.

He maneuvered himself comfortably in the recliner and tugged on her dress.

"Take this off for me," he said. "I want to feel you against me."

Celeste stood and pulled her dress over her head. It tangled in her hair and she fussed with the long locs until she became free, standing before him in her bra and stockings.

"It should be illegal for you to be this sexy," he said, his eyes lifting up and down her shapely physique like an elevator.

He zeroed in on her vulva and licked his lips again.

Celeste unhooked her bra from the back and let it slip down to the floor. Her breasts looked tantalizing in the pink lighting. Terry palmed their fullness and pushed them together. He gently pinched both nipples until they stood like dark cinnamon hard candies. Delectable and sugary sweet.

He engulfed the left nipple and sucked on it, causing it to grow stiffer and more sensitive. She moaned and tilted her head back. The pleasure of his licking and sucking increased her lust for him. She stroked the waves in his hair and he pushed his face between her breasts. Her fullness pleased him because he groaned and spoke her name into her chest, the warm air from his mouth arousing her to a fever pitch. Her pussy throbbed, and he continued sucking and fondling until her legs quaked. She thought she would faint in his arms.

"Beautiful breasts, heavy the way I like them…should I cum on them now, or later?" he asked.

"Later," she said with a breathy moan, wanting to keep him there longer to stretch out her pleasure.

He turned her around and stood. Pushing her locs aside, he kissed the back of her neck and trailed a methodical line down her spine with his tongue, waking up every nerve ending on her back. She whimpered and allowed herself to stay focused on every part of her body that he catered to, like he was priming her for something extraordinary.

He sat on the sectional again and kissed each of her ass cheeks. Afterward, he struck each one with a fully open palm.

"The recoil is crazy," he said.

She turned to face him and lowered her lips for another languid kiss, pleased that every part of her body excited him. Her locs shrouded him in a curtain of thick coiling ropes, reminding her of Medusa trapping an unsuspecting victim who stumbled into her lair. His tranquil eyes stopped her from making contact with his lips. They stared at her in wonder, and she recognized a kindred spirit within them. Yes, there in the center of his pupils, reflected back to her, was a yearning for something more in the world. A longing for another soul to banish the loneliness with true companionship. He was the only legacy of his family, a widower with just an elderly grandmother to care for. Her eyes welled up, and he brushed away her tears with his thumb.

"Why are you crying, beautiful Celeste?"

"I want what you want."

He wrenched his eyes away.

"And what do you think I want?" he asked.

"Someone for yourself. Just like me. When was the last time you had anyone in your life…for a relationship?"

His eyes snapped shut, and he tilted his neck.

"Long enough that I don't care to remember."

"But you want that, right? A chance to have someone of your own again?"

An inner struggle flashed behind those emerald eyes.

"Maybe this was a mistake. I should leave before this goes any further," he said.

"Please…don't leave. I like you and I want you here with me."

He stroked her cheek and pushed his fingers into her locs, tangling them until his hand became lost in the thick forest of hair.

"I like you too…you sweet, sexy…vulnerable woman."

"Vulnerable?"

She rose, and he didn't let go of her hair.

"Your heart is so open…so wide open…and pure. People sense that, and you attract them like a beacon of light in a shadowy world. You can't even see what a safe harbor you are for others. It's why you have so many friends and why so many people gravitate to you…want to be near you."

"Except for people I want to be with," she said, thinking of all the boyfriends she pinned her hopes on over the last five years.

"The one made for you just hasn't arrived yet. You must be patient. Steadfast."

"Maybe you're the one for me."

He pressed the side of his face against her breasts and rested there. She rubbed his hair and hummed a soft, made-up tune until he stood abruptly.

"Terry…don't…don't go," she pleaded.

Her tone kept him from stepping further from her grasp. She threw her arms around his waist and refused to let him go. He circled his arms around her shoulders and they stayed in that position for a long time, listening to each other breathe. Her heart beat out an anxious rhythm and she couldn't stop trembling, fearful he would still walk out on her. He gave her peace. Pleasure. A hope for something better.

"I want you to stay."

Those words must've been the magic key to get him functioning again. Lowering his lips, he kissed her, and his arms instinctively relaxed around her, as if they were always meant to be there.

She pulled away and held both his hands, leading him to her bedroom. Feeling confident in her choice for the night, she lit the large gold votive candles on both of her low, bed-side tables to create a romantic ambiance. She thanked Jesus that she made her bed up after breakfast that morning. The room was in less disarray than the living room. Without trepidation, she unbuttoned his dress shirt and gasped when she revealed the gift that was his chest. The chiseled abdominal V lines looked unreal and she glanced at his eyes to show him how much she appreciated the effort he made to keep his body tight.

Terry slowly pulled off his shirted and kicked off his shoes while Celeste unfastened his leather belt. The thin gold buckle had an intricate square design, and as she unzipped his slacks, he grabbed the back of her neck and smashed his lips against hers, sealing the deal in her bedroom. His tongue snaked into her mouth with such force that she gasped for breath, putting a pause on further actions until she could touch his clothing without her fingers shaking.

A corner of her mind buzzed with a subtle warning, but the rest of her brain worked on autopilot. She might never see this man again, but she was going to enjoy him for as long as he was in her presence. He slipped his pants and underwear down, wiggling his legs free. She helped slide his black dress socks off and willingly dropped to her knees as he gripped his dick and stroked it.

In the candlelight, the girth and length went beyond what she imagined, and the color was also a darker shade with the engorgement of blood. His balls hung like fat, round fruit with a thick, dark brown seam down the middle. His erection had a slightly upward curve and the wide head showed a slit already dripping with pre-cum. Her clit twitched at the sight and she moaned when her pussy throbbed deep within her walls. She touched her vulva and the glossy natural lubrication there caused Terry's nostrils to flair. He sniffed the air and his eyes latched onto hers.

"You want me?" he asked.

"I do."

"Show me."

Celeste gripped the weight of his dick in her hand. Hot, thick, and ready, the veins crossing the sides pulsed and the entire thing felt alive. He thrust the head inside her eager mouth, stuffing it so full of hard dick that she choked on it, gagging until she pulled it out to adjust her ability to handle all of it. He grasped a few of her locs by the root and held her head steady, pushing his erection down her throat again. The gawking sounds she created with his face fucking seemed so shameless in her bedroom. Saliva dripped down her chin and dropped onto her breasts and he pinched one of her nipples to keep her focused on deep-throating him.

She pushed a hand against his stomach to control the depth, and that didn't stop him from fucking her mouth into submission. This is what she wanted. She held her hands against his rock-hard thighs and worked her neck to the best of her abilities. He threw his head back to bark out her name in a heated rush of sound and fury. She took that tiny respite to lick her tongue across the veins on his dick and lifted it so she could tend to his balls. Licking down the seam, she opened her mouth wide to suck on each sack, paying close attention to how sensitive he was between his legs. He accepted her skillful licks on the underside of his dick as she worked her way back to the bulbous tip. She let it sit on her lips and stared up at him.

He reached for her waist before he released any cum, his breath full of heavy pants and moans barely articulating her name clearly. Terry lifted her up, and she locked her legs around his hips again. He crawled onto the bed, carrying her with his dick wedged between her slick folds that spread against his length.

Their shadows mirrored their movement as he dropped her onto the firm mattress, covered in a fluffy orange and pink blanket. Celeste kept her hands draped around his neck. Their lips joined, and they shared slow, deep kisses that had her mouth watering like a river and her pussy constantly throbbing, yearning to be stretched and filled. He reached down to her clit and fingered her slowly. While kissing, her mind spun into a funnel of euphoria. Every stroke on her clit from his thick fingers forced delirious pants from her into his craven mouth.

"Would you like to cum on my fingers, Celeste?" he purred in her ear, dipping his tongue in and out. He licked the shell of her ear and moaned her name like a sacred mantra.

Words failed her as she murmured indecipherable sounds. Two of his fingers dipped lower and plunged into a molten pussy that squelched with his tender, shallow thrusts.

"Tight pussy…" he moaned.

In the candlelight of her bedroom, his eyes shined with an eroticism she didn't know could exist. Every breath she took stayed in synch with his, as if he were orchestrating a love-conquering like some forbidden dark lothario sneaking into a young maiden's boudoir. Her upper half rose from the bed as he fingered her pussy with such care that she couldn't see straight anymore.

"That's a good girl…I love how you squeeze around my fingers like that. Deeper? Is that what you want, my love? Oh, yes…you know how to take it deep…"

He removed his fingers to taste her wetness, and a weak mewling sound fell from her lips. It turned into pitiful whimpering as he returned those thick digits to the center of her being, digging deeper and deeper. Whipping her head back and forth, Celeste couldn't contain the surge of pleasure that coursed under the dermis of her skin and not just the top layer. Whatever he was doing crept into a deeper part of her carnal need. He tapped into something primal.

"Cum for me, Celeste. I want to see you break apart on my fingers. Can you do that for me? Look how beautiful you look jumping on this bed…just for me."

Hunched over her writhing frame, he kept his gorgeous face three inches away from hers and the lustful scrutiny in his eyes burst a damn within her. She broke down and begged for an orgasm.

"Make me cum, Terry! Ohmigod…I can't take any more—"

"Yes, you can. You're a big girl…you can take whatever…I…give…you."

His index and middle finger tapped against her walls, and his thumb rubbed hard circles into her clit. Celeste's eyes rolled back and her body jerked on the bed. Her pussy spasmed all around his fingers.

"Terry!" she wailed.

He pushed his lips against her mouth and swallowed the shouting she couldn't contain. A full body shudder took over, and he talked her through that too, his baritone becoming a lullaby of praise.

"That's my good girl. You lasted longer than you thought you could. Look how proud I am of you. See how hard my dick is? See it? All for you. Your beautiful body still shakes and clenches my fingers. You're wonderful, truly wonderful baby…"

He kissed her from the top of her head and all across her breasts. His moist lips gave butterfly kisses down to her belly button and beyond. Celeste didn't think her body would ever stop shaking. He lingered on her pussy, giving her a loving aftercare with his tongue and mouth. His patient touches brought her down from the explosive orgasm, and she drifted into a comfortable, dreamy state of bliss.

"My beautiful queen," he murmured into her thighs.

Bathed in sweat, Celeste glimpsed the flickering of her shadow on the ceiling from the candlelight. She blinked sweat from her eyes.

Why did it look like her shadow was the only one up there?

She rose onto her elbows, trying to understand what kind of optical illusion she was witnessing, but Terry hooked her attention away from the lone shadow and cuddled with her on the bed.

"I loved watching your face as you came," he said.

Feeling shy and unable to think of anything to say, she rubbed on his bicep and looked at the star and crescent tattoo.

"Are you Muslim?" she said, tracing her index finger under the crescent.

"No."

"But this is a Muslim tattoo."

"It's not. This is actually an old symbol for the sun and the moon. It represents the balance of power that comes from those heavenly bodies."

"Masculine and feminine energy."

"Not exactly, but that is a cool interpretation."

"It's shaped like New Orleans…this crescent is the mighty Mississippi River…the sharp bend in the water that curves around my city like a smile that says bon matin when the sun comes up and…what is that?"

She pointed to the glint of pale iridescent ink that wasn't visible with the naked eye until another form of light struck it above the eight-pointed star. Here, it was the candles on the nightstands. The tattoo turned into a fully closed circle with the star in the center.

"I had a clever tattoo artist experimenting with new ink," he said.

"As above, so below," she said, touching the top part of the circle. "Or…night and day."

She kissed the star on his bicep and studied the features of his face.

"Can you stay with me all night, Terry?"

"I will stay for as long as you want."

She smiled and lifted herself so that she could look directly into his eyes.

"I want to make love with you. I want to feel you inside of me so deep that I cry," she said, her lips trembling with emotion.

He brushed back the hair from her shoulder and rubbed on her hip.

"I will give you everything you want. Ask and you shall receive," he said.

His lips didn't move, but she heard his voice in her head clearly. Succinctly.

"Give me what I want," she said, lying back on the bed.

Terry wasted no time hooking her legs over his arms and settling between her thighs.

"I love how the brown gives way to the delicate pink," he said.

The tip of his dick pressed against her labia, parting them, revealing the inner flesh the color of pink cotton candy surrounded by the chocolaty brown of her vulva. Celeste glanced over at her nightstand drawer, knowing there were condoms inside. In her heightened state, prophylactics were the last thing she cared about. She didn't even ask Terry if he carried any. It didn't matter. Her body floated on a current of biological urges that she couldn't control. The quiet part of her mind latched on to the brown plastic baby on top of the nightstand that she nearly swallowed eating the King Cake two nights ago. Protect your womb. She ignored the warning.

"Look at me, Celeste," he said.

She turned her head and luxuriated in the feel of him holding her. This she would remember as the before time with him, the small window of opportunity to escape that she squandered because of the overpowering persona Terry presented to her. She caved into her libido.

Unprotected heart.

Unprotected sex.

Unprotected soul.

"Say yes," he said above her, those sensual eyes piercing her psyche.

"Yes—"

The world slowed to a crawl.

Terry pushed into her depths and she accepted all of his thickness as a blessing. She clawed at his back and watched the lone shadow dance across her ceiling as tears pricked her eyes and coursed down her cheeks.

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened…and I will give you rest," she murmured to her shadow above, not knowing why that passage in the bible slipped from her mouth.

With each stroke Terry gave her, the shape of his dick tugged on her clit, causing Celeste to cry out to God, emphasizing the ecstasy she experienced. Their union shattered any perception she had of what lovemaking could be.

His mouth stayed buried in neck, sucking on it and speaking life into the delirious flesh that submitted to his will. Her bed squeaked and bounced with the headboard smacking the wall so hard she thought for sure they would crash out onto the street.

He leaned back to watch his dick plunge in and out, the ramrod brown parting her labia that fit around him like a second skin for his erection. Her pussy turned into a magician, making that dick disappear and re-appear shinier than her mama's polished silver. The hard heat of it kept her panting and clinging to his arms. Every part of her body, from a single follicle on her scalp to the callous on the bottom of her right foot, felt the rapturous gratification. Full body orgasms washed across her in steady waves until it reached a feverish pitch. Terry sensed the coming explosion and flipped her over onto her stomach. He straddled her thighs, hunkered down, and pounded her pussy. The loud smacks of their bodies colliding added to the intense carnality. He held her neck down, but she could still look back at him with glossy brown eyes that pleaded for him to never stop.

"Fuck me!" she yelled.

Terry's brows furrowed while putting his back into it, and perspiration dripped from his forehead, landing on her back. She could feel it rolling down to the crack of her ass and mingling with her own sweat. Awareness of all sensations grew tenfold. Even his grunts created vibrations she could feel across her skin.

"Celeste!" he roared, bucking harder against her ass, stretching her pussy wide open.

The sound of her name fell onto the back of her neck and burrowed into the raging skin like the tactile sensations of a finger stroking it. Their fucking was outrageous. She reveled in it. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth and he kissed her, keeping his stroke game going.

"You feel so good…all around my dick…make me feel you more, baby…I'll give you what you need any time you want it. Hear me? Shit! Right there, right there, right there…lemme hit that spot deeper right there…so fucking tight on this dick!"

She twisted on her side slightly so that he could still see the side of her ass, as well as her breasts. He volleyed those wondrous eyes on her ass and face, not wanting to miss any action on either one. He grabbed a fistful of locs and used them like reins to slow his gyrating thrusts. Agonizingly slow, Terry rolled his hips and varied his hard pumps from deep to shallow, driving her to the edge.

Eyes locked, he spoke five devastating words.

"Can I cum inside you?"

His body moved with sinuous elegance, rocking into her with a heat on the verge of losing control. She clenched her walls around him and he groaned, his lips forming a startled "O" shape. His head fell back, and Celeste watched sensual pleasure twitch every muscle in his cheeks and forehead. He had the face of an angel, and she seared that image of him in her brain forever.

"Lemme cum inside you…please…lemme cum…."

"I want you to cum."

"Tell me…"

"I want you to cum inside me."

"Say it again."

His eyes trapped her. She would do anything he said. Follow him anywhere. Give him anything.

"Cum inside your pussy," she begged.

"All this is mine?"

He tugged on her locs harder.

"Yours…all yours…"

He pushed her left leg over until she was back in missionary. Twining both legs around his hips, she gasped at the friction of her clit brushing against his wiry pubic hairs that were soaked by her wetness. He was so deep inside of her that her stomach moved with each thrust.

"You belong to me now. Do you understand this?"

In the hazy glow of their lovemaking, Celeste nodded. He palmed her breast and fondled it.

"All of this belongs to me. No harm shall come to you as long as you belong to me…"

His words sounded more like an incantation than love talk. She squeezed her pussy to show she had love magic, too.

"Damn, Celeste, I'm 'bout to bust…I can't hold back…"

"Cum for me…please…take this pussy…oh…shit!"

She let go.

Her climax started behind her eyes, watching him seize up and cum, his semen spilling into her, hot and fast, coating her walls, filling her to the brim. Her pussy throbbed, milking his dick, and they both watched the lower part of his erection pulse as it pushed out an elixir that would doom her future.

"Fucckkk!" he shrieked, falling forward and covering her with his big, heavy body.

She held him tight, delighting in every after-climax shiver and shake his body made because of her. Her own body quivered with aftershocks, too.

"You are incredible. I was not expecting all that," he said, falling away from her, panting and rubbing sweat on his chest.

She snuggled against his side and he pulled her in close, both needing to feel their warmth and sweat co-mingling. Unfortunately, her bladder called for attention and she crept away to pee.

Inside her bathroom, she giggled at her reflection in the mirror. Her nipples were still hard and her pussy kept twitching, missing the feel of his dick stuffing it full. This was going to be a problem. Sex that good could become dangerously addictive.

Her face took on a somber expression, thinking about not using a condom. She quickly opened her sink cabinet and pulled out a small box of Plan B. She ripped the box open, popped the pill in her mouth, and used sink water to wash it down. A trip to the clinic would be in order to check for STDs. She was too grown at twenty-seven to be moving ass backwards with her sexual health.

How many times had she told younger cousins to use protection at all times?

Hypocrite.

Celeste grabbed a clean wash cloth from the wall shelf above the toilet and gave herself a quick PTA cleaning. She padded back to her bedroom and lost her breath looking at the fine man lying on his side under the covers waiting for her.

"Hey beautiful," he said, lifting the blanket for her to join him.

Celeste wasted no time climbing in beside her favorite lover.

He spooned around her backside and she noticed something peculiar before she blew out the candles. There were two shadows back on the ceiling again. Hers. And his.

Chapter 7 HERE.

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[hopelesslygaysstuff]

50 Shades of Red || Chapter 7

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

summary: Natasha drives Wanda home, where she meets Yelena and debriefs with Kate.

content warnings: none

word count: 3k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

Natasha opens the passenger door of a large, black SUV. The windows are tinted, and Wanda glances around for a moment before smiling slightly at the woman and clambering inside. The interior smells like new leather, and the seats are wide and spacious. Wanda watches as Natasha walks around the car, her posture straight and her face impassive. 

Should she mention the kiss? Wanda doesn’t know whether to talk about it or pretend like it didn’t happen. Natasha hasn’t given any sort of clue that she was affected, her face impassive and lipstick firmly in place. Honestly, she could hardly believe it was real. Not to mention, that was her first actual, real kiss. 

Maybe she just imagined the whole thing.

No. Wanda touches her lips with a single, shaky finger. They’re still swollen from the kiss. She can feel the lingering aftershocks of electricity thrumming through her veins at the memory of Natasha’s soft lips pressed against hers. She didn’t imagine anything. Wanda feels like a changed woman. She wants Natasha, and from the woman’s actions, she wants Wanda too. 

The car door opens, and Natasha smoothly slides inside the driver's seat. She tucks in her shirt as she adjusts the mirror slightly, the movements practiced. Glancing out of the corner of her eye, Wanda takes her in. She’s her usual polite, slightly distant self. 

Great, now the whole thing is even more confusing than it was before. 

Starting the engine, Natasha puts the car into reverse and rests her hand on the back of Wanda’s headrest. A hint of cinnamon washes over Wanda, and she hopes she isn’t inhaling too loudly. Natasha’s pose is casual, her eyes vigilant on the road ahead of her. 

Wanda isn’t sure where they’re going, but she finds herself relaxing once the car pulls onto the highway. Natasha turns the radio on, and instrumental jazz fills the car. The volume is low, and the silence isn’t quite as awkward with notes filling the space between them. Feeling the music thrum through her, she listens. 

The harmonies blend together, the somber tone of a trombone filling the speakers before a piano interrupts in a major key. Wanda listens as the mood shifts, the song an emotional rollercoaster as the scenery flies past outside the car. 

“This is really good,” Wanda says, gesturing towards the radio when Natasha looks over. 

A small, pleased smile appears on her face. For a brief moment, the CEO looks her age; young, beautiful, and completely unburdened. Wanda gives a small smile of her own back, wondering if music was the way to Natasha’s true, genuine self.

She’s seized with the urge to know about the woman. To uncover the person beneath the stoic mask. Wanda is positive that she is intricate and complex, and she wants to spend the rest of her life unraveling the threads that made the tapestry of Natasha Romanoff. For now, she can start by understanding the music that moves her.

“Can we listen to that one again?”

“Of course, I’m glad you like it,” Natasha murmurs, pressing a button with a small smile on her lips as the song starts over. “It’s one of my favorites.” 

Wanda is content to listen in silence, and it seems the other woman is too. She glances over, her eyes catching the sight of Natasha’s hand casually gripping the steering wheel. Her other hand rests on the stick, her fingers drumming on it gently. For some reason, the sight sends a pleasant shiver down her spine. 

A ringtone interrupts the jazz, and Natasha hits a button on the steering wheel, her eyebrows furrowed. 

“Romanoff,” she says, her voice hard yet smooth. 

“Ms. Romanoff, it’s Smith. I have the information you were asking for.” A clear voice sounds out over the speakers, with a slight grain to the sound quality. It's jarringly different from the calm melodies that had washed over Wanda mere seconds ago.

“Good. Email it to me. Do you have anything else for me?”

“No ma’am.”

Natasha presses the button again, the call ending as jazz fills the car once more. Wanda blinks at the abruptness, suddenly very glad she hadn’t applied for her internship. She would hate to work with someone so cold towards their employees. Is this how Natasha acts in the office? The music cuts out again, a ringtone sounding out once more. 

“Romanoff.”

“The NDA you requested has been emailed to you, Ms. Romanoff.” A woman’s voice, this time.

“Good. That’s all, Sarah.”

“Good day, ma’am.”

She presses the button again. Jazz plays briefly, before yet another call comes through. Holy shit, is this her life? Just constant phone calls? Wanda doesn’t know if she’d be able to handle it.

“Romanoff,” she snaps. 

“Hey sis, did you get laid?”

“Hello, Yelena. You’re on speaker phone, and I’m not alone in the car,” Natasha lets out a sigh, and Wanda smiles slightly. 

“Who’s there?”

Those green eyes roll, glancing over at Wanda briefly. They flit down her face, resting briefly on her lips before Natasha remembers to answer. 

“Wanda Maximoff.”

“Hi, Wands!”

Wands?

“Hello, Yelena.”

“I’ve heard so much about you,” Yelena murmurs, her voice slightly raspy. Natasha frowns, her eyes glancing again over to her. 

Chuckling, Wanda replies, ”Don’t believe a word Kate says. She’s a filthy liar.”

Low laughter sounds out over the speakers. Wanda can hear Kate in the background saying something, but she can’t quite make out what it is. There’s the sound of a brief, playful scuffle before Natasha clears her throat. 

“I’m dropping Wanda off now,” Natasha emphasizes her name. “Do you want me to pick you up?”

“Sure.”

Wait. Yelena is at her apartment? That means… goddamnit Kate. Wanda hopes she doesn’t find any bodily fluids from a passionate night around the apartment. 

The music turns on again, and Wanda glances over. Natasha is focused on the road, but now she has both hands on the steering wheel, and her knuckles are turning slightly white. Her jaw is clenched slightly, and Wanda admires the sharp edge of it before leaning her arm against the door and leaning her head against her hand, watching the other woman.

“I wouldn’t mind you calling me by a nickname.”

Natasha glances over, her green eyes softer than Wanda would have expected. When she speaks, her voice is warm. “I like your name, so I’m going to use it. It’s a very beautiful name, Wanda.”

Her voice drops lower when she says Wanda’s name. 

The car slows and pulls up to Wanda’s apartment, and she startles for a moment. She realizes that Natasha hadn’t asked her where she lived. How did she… oh.

Right, the books. The woman had tracked her cellphone like some sort of spy, of course she knew where Wanda lived. That, and the fact that her sister was currently in her apartment with her roommate. Wanda made a mental note to deep clean the couch. 

Natasha smoothly steps out of the driver's side, adjusting her shirt as she walks around the car. Flushing at the memory of the CEO’s lips on hers, Wanda wonders briefly if she’ll kiss her again. She would like that. 

Shaking her head slightly, Wanda steels herself. Now was not the time to be acting like some sort of lovesick fool. The image of blonde women in impeccably sharp skirts and neatly tucked blouses flits through her mind, and Wanda frowns. She refused to be yet another generically beautiful woman that Natasha seemed to surround herself with. She deserved more than that. 

Opening the car door, Natasha offers her hand, her fingers reaching out towards Wanda. 

Oh. 

As she takes her hand, Wanda recalls the short, clipped tone that Natasha had spoken to her assistant with. Maybe she was different from the rest. After all, she’d never been offered a hand as she got out of a car before. How chivalrous. 

Natasha’s hand is warm and firm, and her fingers clench around Wanda’s momentarily in indecision. She seems to almost debate with herself for a moment, stuck in limbo as she grasps Wanda’s hand. She doesn’t seem to want to let go, and Wanda hopes that she doesn’t.

She drops Wanda’s hand, her arm instead gracefully reaching around to shut the car door. Momentary disappointment floods Wanda’s thoughts, before the light touch of those same, strong fingers against the small of her back causes an involuntary gasp to escape her trembling lips. 

“Lead the way,” Natasha murmurs, her voice low and eyes warm. 

Wanda feels herself move towards her apartment, her steps as unsure as a newborn fawn while Natasha’s hand provides a steady pressure against her back. Just before reaching the door, her apartment key in hand, Wanda turns. 

Dark green eyes lock with hers, glancing down momentarily before the woman tilts her head in a silent question. The energy between them shifts, becoming charged with something so heady it's almost tangible. 

“I liked what happened in the elevator,” Wanda says, her voice steady. She smiles at the slight widening of Natasha’s eyes before inserting her key and walking into her apartment, the woman following close behind her. 

Ha. Take that Natasha Romanoff, she can flirt too.

Kate and Yelena are seated on the couch, their bodies practically on top of each other as they watch some reality television show. Wanda gets a glimpse of a woman in a two-piece bikini draping herself over a muscled blonde man before her roommate turns the TV off, whirling around in excitement. 

“Hi, Wanda!” Kate leaps up from the couch, hugging Wanda tightly before holding her at arm’s length to examine her. “Wow, last night wasn’t as rough as I thought it was.”

“No,” Wanda laughs, “It was, but I got some new clothes out of it.”

Smiling, Kate opens her mouth to speak again, before remembering who else walked in with her roommate. Turning slightly, she locks eyes with the CEO lingering just behind Wanda. 

“Good morning, Natasha,” she says, her tone bright as she smiles widely. 

“Miss Bishop,” Natasha responds, her voice a bit stiff, as if she isn’t used to speaking to college students, which, Wanda supposes she isn’t. 

“Oh my god, сестра, her name is Kate,” Yelena says, rolling her eyes as she smoothly gets up from her seat. She has a prominent Russian accent, and Wanda finds herself enjoying the sound of it. 

“Kate, then.” Natasha nods politely at her, before glancing at her sister. 

Yelena opens her arms, pulling Wanda in for a brief hug. Her arms are strong, and although she’s short, her posture and strength tell Wanda that she isn’t someone to be messed with. She misses the hardening of Natasha’s eyes and the way she sticks her hands into her pockets to stop from reaching out. 

Kate smiles at the sight, leaning against the couch and watching the interaction.

“Hi, Wands,” Yelena says, smirking slightly. She glances over Wanda’s shoulder, where Natasha is still frowning. “Good to finally meet sober you.”

Wanda likes her immediately and smiles as a chuckle escapes her. “I promise I’m not usually like that. Last night was a… celebration. A rare occasion, if you will.”

“I believe it.”

Clearing her throat, Natasha moves forward, taking her hands out of her pockets. She touches the small of Wanda’s back once more, her tone is apologetic as she speaks. “Yelena, we should probably go.”

“Sure,” she says, turning and pulling Kate into her arms. She kisses her, their lips lingering as the silence stretches on. Kate’s hands make their way to Yelena’s hair, the blonde’s hands tight around her waist as she presses herself fully into her. Wanda looks away, down at her feet. 

God, she never knew what to do when people kissed in front of her. It was so… awkward. Then again, she’d never been a fan of public displays of affection in her own - very short and few - relationships. 

“Bye, малышка,” Yelena murmurs, grinning widely.

Kate melts. “Yeah, um. Haha, uh you too,” She ends her rambling sentence with an awkward finger gun motion, and Wanda shakes her head as she lowers her hands. 

Natasha rolls her eyes, looking over at Wanda with an unreadable expression. The corner of her lips quirk up, as though she’s amused. Maybe she is, but Wanda can’t read her that well yet. One of those hands reaches up, tucking a strand of auburn hair behind Wanda’s ear. 

Hearing her breath hitch, Wanda is painfully aware of the other two people currently in the room, but can’t quite bring herself to care. Natasha’s eyes soften, her hand grazing Wanda’s cheek until her thumb just barely brushes her lower lip. It feels as though her nerves are on fire, but the feather-light touch is gone before Wanda can really process it. 

“Goodbye моя любовь,” she murmurs, a prominent accent shaping the last two words. The words confuse Wanda, and her curiosity burns as she sees Yelena’s mouth fall open slightly from the corner of her eye. 

Wanda decides then and there to start learning Russian. 

“I’ll pick you up at 8.” 

Natasha steps away, jerking her head at her sister as she opens the door to leave. Yelena follows her to the car, turning and blowing Kate a kiss that causes her to blush and wave awkwardly back. Wanda eyes her, raising her eyebrows as a flush appears on Kate’s cheeks. 

The door shuts, instantly blocking the view of the two sisters. Kate turns slowly towards her, eyes wide and lips stretched into a smile. It's contagious, and Wanda can’t help but smile back, her heart rate finally calming and slowing down to a normal pace.

“So… how did it go? Did she fuck you?” Kate asks, jumping on the couch excitedly and pulling Wanda down with her. 

“Why do you assume that she fucked me?

A loud laugh erupts from her roommate, and Wanda just grumbles and crosses her arms over her chest as Kate wipes fake tears from her eyes. “Oh please,” she says in between gasps for air, “You couldn’t top that woman even if you tried. She’s got a dominatrix sort of vibe going for her.”

A vision of Natasha in black leather and sharp heels standing over her flashes through Wanda’s mind for a moment. She locks that thought firmly in the back of her mind, where she can think about it later in the darkness of her own room while her fingers move feverishly under the covers. 

“Well no,” she says, a bit too sharp. “We didn’t… you know.”

“So you just had a sleepover?”

“God, you make it sound so juvenile,” Wanda exhales, her breath pushing thin strands of hair away from her cheeks. She swipes at them, tucking them behind her ear and remembering the heat of Natasha’s fingers against her skin.

“Even if I didn’t get laid, you obviously did,” Wanda turns her gaze to Kate’s face. The brunette is trying to suppress a giddy smile, and failing epically. 

“We totally did,” Kate says, wiggling her eyebrows. “We did it in the car, and in my room, and over the counter, and on this…”

“Stop!” Wanda covers her ears, swatting at Kate as her shoulders heave in laughter. “I don’t want to hear any more about it, spare me the explicit details.”

“And I’m seeing her again tonight!” Kate exclaims, clapping her hands and bouncing slightly on the couch. She can’t contain her excited energy, and Wanda can’t help but feel happy for her. 

“Natasha is taking me to Seattle tonight,” Wanda says, regretting it slightly as Kate’s excited eyes turn towards her. She leans forward, her hands grabbing Wanda’s tightly.

“Seattle?”

“Yes.”

“Will she fuck you then?”

“God,” Wanda can’t help the laugh that spews out of her. “I really fucking hope so.”

“Oh, so you like her then?”

“Obviously. What’s not to like?”

“No, what I mean is. You like her enough to let her fuck you?”

“Yes.”

Kate leans back, her eyes wide and an astonished look falling across her face. “I never thought I would see the day,” she shakes her head slightly. “Wanda Maximoff falling for someone, and it’s Natasha Romanoff the hot, sexy, dominatrix billionaire.”

“Oh please,” Wanda giggles. “Stop with the dominatrix bit, I’m going to start to believe it's true. Besides, maybe I’m just using her for her money.”

Kate glances at her before they both fall into a fit of laughter. “Jeez Wands, you can’t even joke about that. I’ve seen the way you look at her. You’re falling for her already.”

“I know,” Wanda says, her voice soft. She can’t get rid of the small smile on her face. 

“Has she at least kissed you?”

“Once,” Wanda says, and that’s all she offers. 

She wants more. She knows that much, but she can’t help but wonder why Natasha hasn’t kissed her again. Maybe she didn’t want to? Maybe Wanda was just a really bad kisser, and now she’d ruined any chance she had with the woman. 

“We’re going to make you absolutely irresistible this evening,” Kate exclaims, standing and pulling Wanda towards the bathroom. “And we’re going to start with a shower. I want everything scrubbed and shaved. She’ll have to kiss you again once you put in a bit of effort into your appearance.”

Stopping outside the bathroom door, Kate’s expression softens when she sees Wanda’s face. “Hey, listen,” Kate grabs Wanda’s hands again, locking eyes with her. “You’re incredibly attractive, anyone can see that. You’re also really kind and smart and now you have a degree. I can’t tell you how many people I know that have a crush on you. You. Can. Do. This.”

“Kate I-”

Shaking her head, Kate pushes Wanda into the bathroom. “If Natasha Romanoff can’t see what’s right in front of her, then she’s a fool.”

The door closes behind her, and Wanda lets vanilla shampoo and warm water take over her thoughts. She pushes any doubts out of her mind, instead focusing on remembering the way Natasha’s lips felt against hers, the woman’s strong body pinning her to the elevator. There had been no hesitance on her part, and Wanda clings to that as she prepares herself for the date later tonight. 

A thought hits her, and Wanda feels momentary panic as she remembers what Natasha had planned for her. God, Kate was going to freak out. 

What does one wear for a helicopter ride?

---

Dm or comment to be added!

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[musicalacademy]

Harmonize Your Ambitions: Diverse Music Courses in Bukit Timah

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[lavandulawrites]

Yandere Bungo Stray Dogs men on their first date with their darling: Chuuya and Tanizaki

Yandere Chuuya x reader, yandere Tanizaki x reader

Chuuya is such a gentleman and Tanizaki can be quite frightening at times

Warnings: mention of violence. Tanizaki and Naomi have a normal sibling relationship and are normal siblings.

Masterlist

Word count: 1208

Chuuya

The restaurant’s lights were dimmed creating an intimate atmosphere. Soft jazz playing from a grand piano, the pianist an older man dressed in a elegant suit. The sound of wine glasses clinking together distant. You were seated in a more scheduled spot, perfect for soft whispers and lingering touches. In front of you were a plate of a delicate decorated lasagna. It was clear that the chef had taken their time on preferring your meal.

Chuuya was sitting opposite of you with a wine glass in hand. The red liquid swishing slightly around as he gently rolled his hand taking a whiff of the sweet aroma. In front of him where a plate of pasta carbonara.

“This place is really nice and the lasagna is amazing!” you beamed. You took a bite of your lasagna and hummed in delight, the flavours were melting on your tongue.

“I am glad you like it. I am a regular here actually” Chuuya smiled. His blue eyes filled with love.

“It’s not hard to imagine why. Their food really are something else” you turned your attention back to your plate. You were quite nervous. It was your first date with the handsome man.

He chucked slightly at your nervous expression. His laugh deep and as smooth as honey, making you blush slightly. “I am glad you could make it today” he placed his glass down with a soft clink.

“Yeah me too. My boss was kind enough for letting me go early” you nodded.

“You know… Stress is really bad for you” he repositioned himself in his seat and leaned forward on his elbows. “Have you considered taking a week off? I have plenty of holiday houses” his voice soft, but his eyes poorly concealed worry and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“Thank you for your offer, but I don’t think I am able to” you sighed.

His brows furrowed and he leaned back in his seat. “And why is that?”.

You fiddled nervously with your pearl bracelet. “It’s a lot to do at work at the moment. The only reason to why I got to go early today is because I have been working every day these past two weeks”.

He looked at you with a brow raised in disappointment. “You have been overworking yourself” his voice stern and disappointed. He looked at you for a moment before he opened his mouth “You should go on vacation with me. We could perhaps go to Paris. Wouldn’t that be nice?”.

“Chuuya… I can’t just do that. Did you not listen to what I just said? I appreciate your concern, but I cannot simply drop everything and take some days off” you shook your head.

“You can” he intertwined his hands and placed his head on them, leaning forward. “You definitely can. All you need to do is resign” his expression completely serious.

You looked at him with disbelief. “I know I haven’t known you for that long, but I have known you long enough for me to say that you really do need a break. You can always live with me. That way you wouldn’t need to work so much, since you wouldn’t need to worry about your rent. I have plenty of room in my penthouse” he smiled. His canine chanting the light making it glisten. He really was charming.

“I can’t do that”

“Of course you can. I have more than enough money” he furrowed his brows in slight annoyance. He picked up his glass and took a sip, he closed his eyes and hummed at the sweet taste. “Let’s not talk about this anymore. I will let you think about it” he smiled warmly. You could see obsession and determination swirling in his blue eyes.

Tanizaki

Tanizaki nervously pulled on the red hem of his hoodie. His eyes flickering between you and the window of the cozy French styled café. You only glanced at him out of the corner of your eye finding his behaviour cute. “Do you know what to order?” you asked the ginger as you nodded at the menu in his hands. His knuckles were white from his tight grip. He shot his gaze towards you and pink blush crept over his cheeks.

He nodded. “Y-yes…” he quacked out. “I will take a Croque Madame”.

Your eyes scanned over the menu “I will take a sourdough sandwich”.

You was about to rise to your feet to order when Tanizaki put his hand on your arm. “I will order” his lips pulled back in a small smile. You nodded and watched him making his way over to the counter.

With giddy steps he walked over to your table with a tray. “I ordered us both a caramel latte” he smiled as he took a seat.

“Thank you Tanizaki” you smiled at the ginger.

“Don’t mention it. It’s my treat” his eyes were beaming. He picked up his cutlery before he put it down again, eyes looking intensely into yours. “Thank you for agreeing to go out with me. I really appreciate it” his expression genuine.

“No need to thank me. I am glad you asked me out Tanizaki. I should be the one thank you”

His lips curled into a smile “Please call me Junichiro”

You nodded. “How’s your week been? I read in the newspaper that the amount of crimes have skyrocketed, so the agency must have been quite busy I assume”.

He nodded. “Yeah it have been quite hectic, but thanks to you I have managed” he whispered the last part while he looked down on his plate.

“I am sorry? I didn’t quite catch that”

“Oh! It’s nothing!” his cheeks where as red as his hoodie. “What about you then? How has your studies been?” his head tilted slightly in interest.

You sighed. “Well my studies are going well. The other night I got almost robbed by some random guys. It turns out that one of the guys are my friend’s ex. He decided to take revenge on me to get to her, even though I hadn’t done anything. I didn’t even know him!” you rolled your eyes and huffed in frustration.

“What did you say?” his voice eerie silent. You looked back at Tanizaki and your over dramatic expression fell. His eyes were darkened and his mouth twisted into something akin to a growl.

“It happened two days ago, it’s okay. We sorted it out. He even got in trouble with the police” you raised your hands as to calm him down.

His eyes were narrowed and his brows furrowed. He lips pulled back into a snarl. He was truly terrifying. “I should rip him apart for hurting you” his voice a low growl.

“Junichiro!” you glared at him.

“I should carve out his eyes and feed it to some strays. THIS WILL NOT GO UNPUNISHED!” his face was twisted in rage fitting a rabid dog.

You gently placed your hand on his. “Please calm down. Let’s just enjoy lunch together okay?” you plastered on a face smile, trying to convince him to drop it.

His hazel eyes scanned yours, before they softened. “Of course” he smiled. “I still won’t forgive him though. He will get as he deserves” his left eye twitching.