#like I'm not fucking stupid!!!!! i fucking know it's my fault!!!!!!!! i know!!!!!!!!!!!!

[bernardsbendystraws]

You Don’t Own Me

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chris Sturniolo lives by his own rules, refusing to be controlled. Some see him as a rebel, a troublemaker—but is that the full truth? Meanwhile, Y/N is focused on making the most of her last year of high school, determined to have a normal teenage experience. But when their worlds collide, they realize they may have more in common than they ever expected.

WARNINGS: COPYRIGHT NOTICE. Crying, nudity, kissing, body worship, suggestive (very), yelling, angst

A/N: I'm crying with a boner. Idek anymore

JOIN THE SERIES TAGLIST BY COMMENTING ON THIS POST.

With love and big tits, Rose

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P18: Anything

The second we walk through the door, Chris darts to point his finger at Mia. I flinch as I watch his nostrils flare, his jaw tight as he shakes his head. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he interrogates, Mia shrinking into herself. 

I look over, seeing the bathroom light peeking below the closed door down the hallway. Walking behind Chris, I place my hand on his shoulder, the muscles tense as he continues to peer down at Mia. 

“Chris, it’s not her fault, it was my—”

“I’ll get to you later.” he tuts, shrugging off my hand. 

He shakes his head, letting out a puff of air as his shoulders rise and fall with pure frustration. “You really thought going to a party was gonna be fuckin’ fun?” he curses. 

I wince at the rough language, trying to pull on the sleeve of his shirt as Mia’s bottom lip wobbles. 

The sound of rushed footsteps makes my gaze turn upwards. I see Matt jogging in the room, walking around and sitting on the couch, pulling Mia under his arm tightly as he glares at Chris. 

“Chris,” he spits, his face scrunched with anger, “-remember what we talked about. Leave my girl alone.” he states. 

My spine straightens as Chris turns around. His tongue prods on his cheek from the inside of his mouth, his nose twitching as he takes a deep breath. 

The second his eyes snap open at me, I feel my skin pulse with a cool sweat. He nudges his head, urging me to follow behind him as he stalks off towards his room. 

“Go.” 

I follow the sound, looking down at Matt as he raises his eyebrows at me, his arm snuggling Mia against his chest. 

“He’s…trying. He might suck at it, but—it’ll…it’ll make more sense.” he explains. 

My lips roll together. I swallow the lump in my throat, sparing Mia a small pout as I watch her pout with squinted eyes. 

Guilt consumes me as I walk down the hallway. I did that to Mia. I should’ve sat with her, or maybe even on the floor next to her. She’s supposed to be my friend and I was completely reckless with her safety. 

Hesitantly, I look up to see Chris. He’s holding his room door open, looking at me with an unreadable expression. 

Walking past him, I sit on the edge of the bed, my eyes blurring as I feel more tears form. I swallow thickly as I hear the door shut. 

His steps echo. Chris stands in front of me, his arms crossed, staring down at me—I don’t have to look to know, I can feel it. I gaze down, my eyes heavy with guilt and tears as I stare at his dirty sneakers. 

“I…” I shift my feet on the ground, clutching my hands to hug myself as I take in a shaky breath. “-’m sorry.” I breathe out, clasping my hand over my mouth as a sharp cry echoes.

My eyes squint shut, forcing the stray tears to leak down my face. I hear him move. The delicate touch of his hands resting on my knees makes me feel like I’m bracing for impact. 

I hate being yelled at—I hate disappointing people. 

I hate feeling stupid. 

A sniffle makes me cringe with embarrassment. His rough hands start to slightly move on my knees, almost soothingly. 

“Hey,” he speaks, his voice soft. 

I peek my eyes open, my face scrunching with confusion rather than distress. He’s on his knees in front of me, looking up at me as if he’s trying to tell me it’s okay. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

My lips open and shut. I feel my skin pulse with too many sensations, wiping at my face as I feel crusted mascara making my cheeks hurt with any movement. 

“You—you’re mad and you’re gonna yell and—” 

“Do you want the makeup off? Do you want some different clothes?” he asks, interrupting me. 

Hesitantly, I give him a short nod. He seems genuine, his face relaxed besides his eyes squinting with worry. 

Chris gets up, pulling out clothes from his closet, walking to the bathroom and coming back with a wet rag. 

“We don’t have any makeup take-off sponge whatever things—”

I ignore his poor makeup knowledge, my head tilting as he offers me the cloth. 

“Aren’t you…mad?” I ask, starting to scrub the mess on my face. 

Even if it makes my skin red, it can’t be worse than whatever I look like right now—probably a racoon of some sort. 

The freshness of the damp rag makes my chest feel lighter. Every inch of my face being wiped makes me feel more clean, more grounded. 

“I’m…I’m not mad. I just,” he huffs, rubbing a hand over his mouth as he pushes the pile of clothes closer to me. “-just get comfortable and then we can talk, alright?” he suggests.

My nose twitches as I sniffle. I nod slowly, my hands twisting together in my lap as Chris starts to turn around. 

“Wait,” I say, grabbing onto his wrist before he can take another step. 

He stares at me with a soft confusion, his lips pulled together in a tight line as he waits for me to speak. 

“Can you—can you just…stay? I really don’t feel like being alone right now.” I state. 

Chris nods slowly, turning around as he runs a hand through his hair. The clothes on the bed next to me are soft. I unfold the T-shirt, the inherent smell of him making my heart flutter in my chest. 

My fingers fiddle to the zipper on the side of my tube top. The thin metal line is janky, the metal clasp unmoving as I sigh with frustration. 

“Are you…okay?” he asks, his back towards me. 

I had Mia help me with my top. This stupid piece of clothing was impossible to get on or off without two people. I blame that stupid catastrophe for me forgetting to charge my phone. Maybe this whole night wouldn't have been so chaotic if I picked a different top. 

“I need help with my, uh, with my top.” I remark. 

Chris slowly turns around. The pulse in my ears echoes as he slowly lowers himself, his knees resting on the ground as he hesitantly reaches his hands out. 

Lifting an arm, I rest my hand on his shoulder, allowing him more space to access the side zipper. I swallow thickly as his cold fingers brush against my skin, the sudden change of temperature soothing, shocking enough to make me feel lost in the moment.

“Is this okay?” he asks, looking up at me as he starts to slowly tug the metal. My head bobs up and down, my chest feeling tighter as swarms of butterflies float up from my stomach. 

His eyes are trained on mine. I hear the metal zipper slide down, the cold air paired with his light touch making my brain feel fuzzy. 

I don’t bother holding the fabric up. The top falls on my lap, my bare chest exposed as I watch him keep his eyes up on me, blinking slowly as his lips part slightly. 

Silence. 

This should be awkward, I should be feening for some coverage, yelling at him to turn around. 

But I’m not. 

In fact, I reach down to his hand on my waist, tugging it upwards until he cups the underside of my breast. He swallows harshly. His eyes are still focused on mine, his lips panting with quick breaths. 

“I…I wanna explain,” he gasps, fighting as his hand lightly caresses over my skin. 

The touch burns, almost like ice cold water that stings. It’s electric, it’s grounding. 

Parting my legs, I press my knees onto either side of his ribs as he kneels before me. Chris squints his eyes shut. I lick over my lips as he exhales a shaky breath. 

“God, you—you’re making it hard for me to think,” he sighs. 

My chest heaves with pride. I bring my hand down onto his shoulder, massaging up into his hair as I tug his face closer to my chest. 

His eyes flutter open, staring up at me as I feel his lips brush against my nipple. He blinks slowly at me, his lips parting as he swallows around the sensitive bud, a gasp falling from my mouth as he swirls his tongue around the delicate skin. 

“God,” I breathe, clutching his face even closer as his hands find their way to my waist. My mouth falls open as he groans against me, the vibration making my skin crawl as heat rises over my face. 

“Gotta,” he pants over the top of my breast, placing a soft, sloppy kiss before staring up at me, “-gotta stop. I need you to know the truth, I don’t,” his eyes flutter shut as he swallows around the sensitive bud again, “-don’t want to lose you.” he husks.

Chris leans his forehead against my chest, panting for air as I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stiffen. His hands reach out to the shirt on the bed. I let him slide it over my head, sliding my arms through the sleeves. 

He shifts while I strip the uncomfortable skirt off. I don’t bother putting the sweats on, opting for just underwear as I turn around to see him with his eyes closed, focused on breathing, a slight frustration laced in his face. 

The bed dips as I crawl next to him. Chris peeps open his eyes, swallowing as he notices my bare thighs. 

“You’re gonna kill me.” he says, looking up to my face as I spare him a small smile. 

Shrugging, I rest my head next to him, on the singular pillow as I watch him rest on his arm folded behind his head. His hand twitches on his chest. 

“Come here.” I urge, holding open my arm and lifting my leg. 

Chris moves in hesitantly, his hand resting on my bare thigh as he pulls my legs further over him. “I…thanks,” he mumbles, humming as I begin running my hand up and down his back, letting my nails graze through his thin shirt. 

“Talk to me.” I whisper, watching as Chris lets his eyes float up to mine, his eyes glazing over as he bites on his lip. 

“I….I…” he trails off, his hand squeezing around my leg a little tighter as he braces himself, “-’m sorry. What I said…it was fucked up, I just—people get reckless when they’re with friends.” 

Oh. 

Oh.

My face falls with sympathy. Chris lets himself take a big inhale, the puff of air fanning through the air as everything becomes quiet. 

“I didn’t want you to get hurt. It’s fucked up, I know, Matt talked to me. I was at your window to talk and—”

“-and I did the exact thing you thought would happen.” I fill in. 

His lips fall shut. He stares up at me with a numb expression. “Yeah, but…you deserve to live and be happy and…I want you to have friends, it’s just—I want you to be safe.” he says. 

Safe. 

God, how could I be so stupid? 

I couldn’t even spare him a second before being petty and seeking some sort of revenge. 

And he was the one to come make sure I was safe.

“I’m so sorry, Ch—”

He cuts me off, staring down at the shirt covering my chest, avoiding my gaze. “No, I shouldn’t have said that. Just…losing my mom and Nick, it really changed me. I—it’s hard to sleep, or even function when I don’t know if you’re–”

Chris chokes on the words. I look down, my eyes softening as I see his lips twitching. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. 

I can feel my heart clench in my chest. His voice is utterly broken, his eyes blinking furiously as I see the slight glaze of tears fade. 

“I just want you to be safe and I know I can do that, I know…I know—”

“Chris.” I interrupt. 

He stares up at me, licking over his lips as he swallows harshly. I pet the loose strands of hair away from his forehead, leaving down and pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead. 

“Thank you,” I whisper, his eyes twinkling as he stares up at me with a doe gaze, “-really, thank you.” 

His hand clutches tighter around my thigh. He pulls me impossibly closer, nuzzling into my chest as he whispers against me.

“Anything for you. Anything.”

[hard-core-super-star]

some kind of magic [wandanat]

[credit for banner goes to @selfcestmovies, can't recommend their blog enough if you've been liking the selfcest fics]

pairing: top!natasha romanoff x bottom!wanda maximoff x switch!wanda maximoff

summary: after natasha runs away from her again, wanda comes up with an unconventional plan to get her to admit the truth about her feelings.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT -> porn with plot; selfcest; dirty talk; clothes stay on because hot; semi-public sex; making out; fingering {wanda receiving}; brief boob play; questionable use of wanda's powers; morally questionable seduction techniques

wordcount: 3k

a/n: HI! part three of OW MY MIND is here and to no one's surprise, i'm already thinking of writing another part. wandanat owns my heart for real. that being said, i'm working on a few new fics that i hope to post soon but we all know uni will most likely kick my ass again soon 😅anyway, i hope you enjoy <3

[part one | part two]

* * * * * * *

Natasha should have known better than to walk away from Wanda. Mainly, because it was a shitty thing to do, one that seemed more fitting of a stupid college-age fuck boy than the Russian ex-spy turned Avenger. But, more importantly, the Sokovian wasn't one to take the silent treatment well.

It shouldn't have surprised her, not with the way their relationship had evolved. She was usually good at keeping her distance. At ignoring her own thoughts or feelings about a situation and simply doing her job.

Her job had been simple at some point. Look after the new recruit and make sure she was eating. Maybe help her with her training a little until she was more comfortable with someone like Steve. She wasn't supposed to get attached or look forward to their interactions.

More than anything, she wasn't supposed to fall for her.

Developing feelings for Wanda Maximoff was the stupidest thing she'd ever done. It was also the easiest thing she'd ever done. Something that happened without her meaning to but somehow made perfect sense.

Despite that, though, she wasn't quite ready to admit the truth. To admit how badly she wanted the younger woman. How strongly she started craving her presence, her company. The way the minutes seemed to slow down when they were together, no matter what they were doing.

Jeez, when had she turned into such a sap?

A lot of things had changed for her the past few weeks but the one constant was her dreams about the Sokovian. It seemed like she couldn't get her out of her mind, especially after their sudden kiss.

It had been an admission of some sorts even if she wasn't ready to face the truth. It was easier to deal with her own feelings when she ignored Wanda's. When she pretended she didn't notice the jealous glares she threw her way whenever she sat too close to Steve, laughed too hard at Sam's jokes. It was unnecessary, in her opinion, but she'd be lying if she said she didn't enjoy seeing her reactions.

Seeing her struggle to keep the red from overtaking the green in her eyes. Although, the green hue of jealousy made the younger woman look far too breathtaking, in her opinion.

Despite how much she enjoyed the game they were playing, it wasn't enough. Not truly. And the heat that pooled low in her belly when she caught Wanda staring at her during team meetings only made things worse.

So much worse, in fact, that she found herself searching for relief every night. Relief that, ironically, never came.

She wanted to blame the young witch for her little…problem, but she had no proof her mind had been messed with in any way. At least, any supernatural ways. There was unfortunately nothing strange about the way her body seemed to desire Wanda and only Wanda.

Knowing that didn't make her predicament any easier to deal with, though.

Especially when all her dreams revolved around a certain Sokovian (although she was sure that part wasn't entirely her fault).

She was determined to get a good night of sleep, though. Determined to push thoughts of Wanda and her soft lips out of her head for one day. All she needed was just one day.

But of course, the younger woman had other plans.

Unlike Natasha, Wanda was out of patience. She didn't have time for restraint or doubt. The older woman had kissed her back and that was all she needed to know she couldn't give up.

Maybe it was taboo and dangerous and maybe she was an idiot for thinking they could make things work but she didn't care. She couldn't focus on anything besides how…right being with the Widow felt. How easy it was to be with her. To forget the way other people saw her, the way she saw herself, and only care about the affection in the other woman's gaze.

The trust she had in her despite how unstable she could be.

She would be an idiot to not put up a bit of a fight. To let the Russian believe she didn't care. Because the truth was, she did care. And she wanted her unlike anything she'd ever wanted in her life.

Maybe her plan was a little unconventional, certainly more than a little dirty, but she needed to do something to make Natasha accept the truth about their feelings and the desire they couldn't hide anymore.

Or, rather, the desire she was tried of hiding.

As fun as sneaking around could probably be, it didn't work if they weren't on the same page about things. They needed to be honest and the only way to get the older woman to be honest with her was this plan.

A plan she was more than a little excited to put into place.

So, when Natasha retired to bed after a long, tedious, team meeting, she decided to stop beating around the bush. Sure, she'd never tried to manipulate someone's dreams before but how hard could it be?

Not to mention, she was sure if she didn't do it now, she would chicken out and lose her chance completely. It wasn't like her to lose her nerve so quickly but there was always some apprehension around using her powers on someone she cared about. Even if it was for pleasure…she couldn't stop the guilt that made a home in her chest.

It was no match for her stubbornness, though.

That was why, that very same night, she found herself locked in her room, her mind clear of anything but Natasha as she focused on reaching out to her. Stepping into her mind without her knowledge.

Natasha should have known something was up the second her dream started morphing into something else.

One second, she's dreaming about her and Wanda being locked in the meeting room and the next, she's in some sort of party scene. There's a weird haze around the other people at the party and she walks around, she realizes how aware she is of her own movements. Of her reactions.

She's half a second away from forcing herself to wake up when she spots Wanda emerging from the sea of random people filling the scene before her. Somehow, even though it's nothing but a dream, she can still feel her heart skip a beat at the sight of her. The red dress the younger woman is wearing hugs her curves perfectly, reminding her of all the beautiful inches of skin that lay beneath the fabric.

Natasha wants so badly to snap herself out of it. To force herself to open her eyes and run away once more. But then Wanda is walking closer, erasing the space between them with a sly smile.

"I thought you'd be happy to see me."

The Sokovian's voice seems to bounce around her whole brain, rattling her thoughts and leaving her far more defenseless that she'd like to be.

"Who says I'm not?" She replies.

"Mainly that weird look on your face."

Natasha couldn't stop the scoff that left her lips. "I do not look weird."

Her reaction only made Wanda's smirk widen, her hand reaching out to cup her face. Even though every logical part of her brain told her to move away, she was stuck in place. Drawn to whatever game the smirking woman seems to be playing with her.

"You're cute when you're huffy."

Natasha's shoulders tense slightly. She's been called a lot of things in her life. Traitor. Cruel. Heartless. Killer.

Not cute.

Never cute.

And yet, Wanda says the word like it's nothing. Like she doesn't see the blood on her hands when she looks at her. Almost like it doesn't matter to her.

Natasha doesn't put her thoughts into words, though. She simply huffs again and allows her hands to rest on the younger woman's waist. "You're so annoying."

"Then why do you want to kiss me right now?"

The question itself is annoying enough but the eyebrow raise only makes it worse. Mainly, because she's completely right. And nothing is more annoying than having to admit defeat.

"My dream, my rules," she says before pulling Wanda in closer and dipping her head down to connect their lips.

It's only during the kiss that she realizes what's going on. Not only is she aware that she's dreaming but every touch, every word, is more intense than usual. Charged with an energy that goes beyond the normal.

Natasha forces herself to pull away, ignoring the whine of protest that escapes the Sokovian's lips, and stares down with a nonthreatening glare. "Why are you in my head, little witch?"

Wanda can't even pretend to be surprised that she's been caught. "Because you keep running away from me."

As much as she hates to admit it, the younger woman makes a good point.

"So your solution is to invade my dreams?" She asks, not so subtly side-stepping the conversation they really need to have.

"You made me desperate."

Natasha sucks in a breath, tilting her head to the side in a hopeless attempt to ignore the desire swimming between them. The desperation she can feel simmering beneath the surface of her own skin.

"That doesn't sound like my problem," she says, her voice wavering slightly.

Instead of being disheartened, Wanda takes her words as a challenge. A challenge that she knows will end badly for her, if the head tilt thrown her way is any indication.

"I think you're right, 'Tasha," the younger woman says, taking a small step back. "Maybe I'm the solution to my problem."

Natasha's in the middle of questioning her when Wanda lifts her hand, tendrils of red magic swirling around her fingers. In the blink of an eye, the dream shifts once more. It's slightly disorienting but the leather beneath her helps her refocus her senses as she realizes she's now sitting on a large couch in the middle of the room with Wanda next to her.

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion as her focus on not one but two Wandas. Identical red dresses clinging to identical curves.

It takes her another second to realize where their hands are.

The Widow forces herself to swallow back a groan at the sight of them. The relaxed ease with which they kiss each other, the slow yet determined movement of their hands against each other, the obvious way they ignore her to focus on each other.

She wants to question the younger woman, pretend like she doesn't know exactly what she's doing. Her voice fails her, though. All her thoughts are stolen away by the show they're putting on for her.

It really shouldn't be as attractive as it is.

The two Wandas pull away from each other and turn to look at her, identical smirks grazing their faces. "Cat got your tongue, 'Tasha?"

"Shut up," she forces herself to say. "You're playing dirty."

"I always am," the other Wanda replies. "Don't act like you don't like it."

It would have been so easy to get caught up in the banter. To act like she truly was annoyed, like she didn't care about what was going on, about the sinful arousal that came with every action.

Unfortunately for her and her sanity, Natasha didn't want easy. She didn't want to forget the taste of the younger woman's lips, the feeling of her hands on her body, the sound of her voice in her ear, whispering things that would make a holy man blush 50 different shades of red.

"Maybe I do," she whispers, her admittance far too loud even in the crowded room.

It's not much, not really, but it seems to be exactly what the two Sokovians want to hear. Her Wanda (at least, she thinks it's her Wanda, it's hard to tell when her clone looks exactly the same as her) leans further against her side, her legs falling open as she guides the other's hand up her leg. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

All Natasha can do is watch as the other Wanda's hand slides beneath the hem of her dress, her fingers disappearing from view. It doesn't take a genius to figure out where exactly those deft fingers go.

The two Wandas lean in toward each other, lips locking together before the Widow can even attempt to question them again. On some level, she knows it's wrong. Knows she should be appalled, maybe jealous. But she's not.

She's utterly captivated by the display…and far too aroused for her own good.

It's not like she can be blamed, watching the object of her desires making out with a copy of herself would make anyone lose their mind…right?

Maybe if she was a better person she would have walked away.

But it was a dream, no one besides them would ever know what they were doing, what they wanted to do.

So, she did exactly what the younger woman had been hoping for.

She gave in.

One of Natasha's hands grips Wanda's exposed thigh, helping her drape her leg over her lap and expose more of herself to her greedy gaze. The other Wanda's fingers don't skip a beat and she watches the telltale signs of her pumping in and out of the other woman's cunt.

A strangled gasp leaves the Sokovian next to her as she pulls away from the kiss, her hand gripping Natasha's wrist. "'Tasha-"

"Do you always moan my name when other people fuck you?" Natasha asks, her words slipping out effortlessly.

Both Wanda's moan in unison, identical hips bucking up. "You're the only one who fucks me."

"That's not very nice to say." She leans in until her lips brush the younger woman's ear. "Other you is working so hard to make you feel good."

Her words are filthy and exactly what the Sokovian wants to hear. That beautiful snap of the Russian's control as she finally gives in. As she takes back control from her.

"Fuck," Wanda groans under her breath, tilting her head back as her clone litters kisses down her jaw and to her neck.

Natasha's attention is completely captured by the other Wanda and the ease that guides her movements. Almost like she knows exactly what the other woman wants before she can even think to speak it outloud. It shouldn't be surprising since they're the same person but it's still incredible to watch.

The Widow's fingers slowly dance their way between the younger woman's thighs, barely grazing her sensitive clit. Instead of giving the more desperate of the two her attention, though, she instructs the other woman. "Why don't you play with her nipples, sweetheart? She makes the sweetest sounds when she gets sensitive."

All Wanda can do is whine in response, back arching before she even knows what she's doing. The other version of herself grins against her skin before her free hand moves to her chest, sliding down the top of her dress as much as she can before her fingers are attaching to one of her nipples and pinching.

The stimulation makes her buck up into their fingers until she's practically grinding against them, chasing more pleasure. "Please don't stop-"

"Don't worry, baby, we won't stop until you can't take it anymore," Natasha whispers, her tone far too sweet for what she's saying.

"And even then, we probably won't stop," the other Wanda finishes her thought for her, a wicked grin on her face.

"Fuck-" Wanda hisses, her hips moving erratically as Natasha's fingers apply more pressure to her clit. "I'm gonna cum."

"Already? Guess you were more desperate than I thought."

"Please, 'Tasha."

It takes her an extra second to realize what Wanda's asking for. It shouldn't surprise her but she's not used to seeing the Sokovian so…submissive. It suits her better than she could have imagined.

"I'm right here, Wands," she murmurs. "Cum for me. Show me how good you can be for me."

Those words are Wanda's undoing. Both of her hands grip different wrists, her nails digging into their skin as her head falls back, strings of curses and whimpers falling out of her lips.

Natasha's sure she's never seen someone look so beautiful before.

Both her and the other Wanda slow down their movements until the Sokovian's shaking subsides slightly, the aftershocks of her orgasm dulling out into softer pleasure.

Praise flows out of her mouth before she can think twice about it. Her lips are everywhere she can reach. Wanda's cheek, her jaw, the side of her nose. Everywhere her lips touch, she murmurs sweet words of reassurance. Words that remind them just how real what they're doing is.

The other Wanda isn't satisfied being left out of the moment, though. She leans in too, stealing the other woman's lips before Natasha can kiss her. There's a tenderness to the moment that stops her from complaining.

When the two Wandas pull away, their gazes lock onto the Russian. She's just about to suggest round two when the edges of her vision start going blurry.

"Wanda," she says. "Don't tell me you're going to run away too."

"I'm not," the younger woman replies, her words almost a promise. "I'll come to you. We need to talk."

"Understatement of the year," she murmurs as her vision grows fuzzier, the dream slowly disappearing from her mind.

When Natasha's eyes open, there's a strong ache between her legs and a heaviness in her chest. It's not quite regret or disappointment. She's actually not sure what it is. She just knows she needs to figure things out.

She needs to be honest with Wanda for once.

All she can do is hope they're on the same page about what they want.

* * * * * * *

taglist: @boredandneedfanfics @rosekjsses

[somejerkguy]

I just get told so many times "you just haven't found the right people"

other people pick up relationships of all kinds over their whole lives though? and those people float in and out of each other's lives, stay in touch, catch up when they can

like. I don't think it's unreasonable to not try again when every single person I've cared about has closed the door behind them on the way out

[venomouslilith]

.

[brionysea]

when max is depressed we know something's wrong because lucas says with his words that he knows something's wrong but when mike is depressed we don't think anything of it because will's right next to him rolling his eyes about how stupid straight people are

[v1-kisser]

My dad can say he thinks I'm smart all that he wants, but he still refuses to remove restrictions for me downloading software on my computer, even when I literally fucking need to to pass my classes. You can call me intelligent, but if you think I'm stupid enough to click on phishing links and get viruses the moment you unblock software downloads on a laptop, it doesn't mean anything. At least give me the password. I'm not looking to fail out of college.

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Square Enix, learn how to market games again, 2025.

[cesium-sheep]

she's starting to get into tarot now too, and I think I get prickly about her picking up interests I already picked up for myself (or tried to) because like. I have very very little self, between how I grew up and how sick I've been. she gets to have a career and a passion and a self and a gender and all this shit I don't. so it bugs me when she starts to step into these surface level things because I don't really. have anything else.

[tenok]

.

[arcane-vagabond]

I think I might actually legitimately be at my limit. Like I think I've reached the end of my rope, actually

[falling-hand-in-unlovable-hand]

the worst part of break is the last day when you're just drowning in stress thinking about going back. i feel literally physically nauseous

[rosalind-hawkins]

having a "minor" crisis of self-confidence in my writing

it's just one of those days

really hope it goes away because i want to just write and enjoy it, and not care about views, kudos, and comments, but i do, and i don't want to—

[lightningfilledsaber]

I'm so fucking sick of my brain

[ilkkawhat]

They would understand if you left, it might even help them make the same difficult decision. You deserve only good things; rest and peace

i could only hope so....granted i already worry that my boss hates me lol so how much more could she hate me if i left (but have been told by my co-workers she absolutely does not lol)

[orangeearlgray]

Several things about the **** and **** drama is how many people have hopped out to go omg so is the lady we have decided is the only big bad villain responsible for planting all of the hate against insert group/idol here when I watched in real time for all of those examples their own fans jumping on their favorite idols for things that were clearly just scraps of bad rumors they just completely made overblown THEMSELVES under the guise of trying to look 'critical about their faves'