#mainly the writing.. not really the material

[t-u-i-t-c]

i do think that the episode blog is beneficial to read for behind the scenes info mainly, like how they chose to include parallels or going over art direction. i don't think it's necessary for viewing but i do think it adds something to read about the care that goes into creating and the thought processes. the show itself is targeted to younger viewers than previous sentai so some things are going to be more subtle than they would be in some other sentai, not in a way in which you wouldn't pick up on them but you might want confirmation. something like this would be them saying that taiya's teacher went away in the show, but the episode blog explains that this is for the sake of not making things too heavy for younger viewers and keeping it vague to allow children in different circumstances to perhaps relate to losing someone outside of death, death however is what was what was conveyed in that instance.

[puffein]

untouchably yours

pairings: wanda maximoff x reader summary: one is said to be an emo burnout and the other is a recognized academic ice queen. they shouldn’t work, but in the spirit of corny dances and unplanned kisses—they might. warnings: mentions of abuse word count: 11543 a/n: i had so much fun writing this!!

general masterlist

The life you had led was something in the borders of what people called dull and bland. But if they were in your shoes, they would completely understand the life you had led. They would understand it if they were not high school kids, teenagers who are borderline horny and reckless. So, safe to say, you have the very reason for your actions, of what you have set yourself grounded on. 

You never doubted it, the life you hold onto was something you had proudly made yourself. You made promises and beliefs, that is why people call you the untouchable. You didn't really think of that title, you let that word be glued to your name like a mantra being passed on the crowded hallways of your school.

They gave you the title untouchable because not a single person has ever come close to dating you, that was their sole reason for accompanying that word to your name, like a fucking pop-star, ready to rise in a stage witth her electric guitar and pink microphone. 

Your mind can't seem to make up what you are feeling on that word, mainly because in Hindu caste system, untouchables are the lowest of low ranks, and these morons probably aren't smart enough to put hidden innuendo to your known title in the campus. They probably didn't know ancient India's caste system, right?

So, you really didn't think of it and ignored the word being passed on as you walked in the hallways full of lockers. You ignored the whispers, the silent murmurs of the ignorant high schoolers. 

Not until a grubby hand forcefully closes your locker as he lets his beefy biceps lean on it, "Baby, I think it's time for us to date. Don't ya think?"

Your lips twist in a symbol of annoyance, "I do think, Rumlow. I am just not sure if you are." 

With that, Rumlow scrambles on his feet as you push him hard away from your locker with one hand, the other hand busy clutching the books you had from the past class. He mutters a silent fucking virgin and continues to ramble along the lines of bitch as he walks away hastily. 

Okay, now, you definitely hate the title untouchable. Because that word just gave all the obnoxious high schoolers a reason to torment you. To give themselves the satisfaction of finally being able to touch the one who didn't like to be touched. And it gave you a headache for experiencing this way too frequently than you had liked.

"That was hot." 

A groan left in your mouth as you shove the books in your locker and you turn to give the owner of the voice the sweetest smile you could conjure, "You know what is more hotter?"

The boy perks up at the sudden suggestive voice you had given him, "Yeah?"

"For you to fuck off." 

You flipped your hair over your shoulder, clutching the straps of your bag tightly, you walked off with a middle finger high in your shoulders, waving it as a bunch of students snickers at the lame attempt of the boy.

That event mostly fills up your routine of your bland high school life, go to classes, flip off obnoxious men, attend classes, push off the high unpleasant smell of testosterone out of your proximity and then repeat. You didn't really have the liberty of stopping this madness as it has been happening since last year, you suddenly got this weird glow-up when in reality it was just really puberty doing its works. 

Slumping in the seat in front of a sleeping boy, the tousled brown haired boy sat up suddenly at the sudden intrusion, eyes darting everywhere as it finally landed on your busy figure of unclustering the materials needed for studying. 

"Y/N, you're here." He stated, arranging the big glasses on his face as he sat up straighter. 

You gave him a look, "Obviously, Peter." 

Peter, the only boy who treated you normally throughout high school has become your best friend for these past years. You had known him since you two were toddlers, having him as a neighbour was a blessing in disguise as it gave you an automatic friend. You didn't have to carry the burden of being alone while dealing with monstrosity. 

"Have you heard?" Peter starts, whispering as he eyes the librarian placed in the center of the library, in between the entrance and exit. 

"Can you help me with chemistry, I can't understand it." You distractedly asked him, flipping off pages in a thick book you had borrowed earlier before sitting across Peter.

Peter closes your book, your face gives away an irritated one. "Here, listen. I heard there's a bunch of seniors doing drugs on the back of the campus." 

"Like I care, Peter. That's their life, thank you very much for wasting my time. Now, compensate for it and make me understand chemistry." You hissed at him, gesturing him at the hands he clamped over the book. 

He quickly yanks it away, ducking his head as his eyes suddenly widen at something behind you. 

Your brows furrowed at his slumped figure, turning your body to catch the sights he is seeing behind you. Your eyes rolls in easily as your gaze lands on a girl with a leather jacket, her hands adoring with different kinds of rings, her green eyes prominent with the perfect eyeliner on her eyelids. 

"You have a crush on Maximoff? That's it?" You asked Peter, face twisting in disgust and displeasure.

The boy colored, "What, no!" He sputtered clumsily.

Your eyebrows raised at his red neck, "You can like whoever you like, Peter. I won't judge you for crushing on a girl who looks like she will either be smoking pot with you or burn you with her cigarette."

"I don't have a crush on her, she's just this one of the seniors who did drugs, apparently." He explains, yanking your thick book to open a page he knows off with ease. "And she's nice."

You laugh at his words, "She does drugs and nice. That is so ideal type, Peter. I am swooning." 

"Who is swooning?" An accented voice reaches onto your ears, you hear the low hissing of a chair being pulled and a warm presence beside you emits from it. 

You stayed silent at the sudden interruption, letting Peter handle whatever is happening. He was the one who manifested this, obsessing over seniors who are sure to not graduate this year are not worth your time.

A low hum comes in accompanied by a tap on top of your notebook, you look up to stare at her indignantly, "What?"

Her laugh comes off easily, the creases beside her eyes pronounced itself magnificent, "It's rude to not answer and I was just curious." 

"Stay curious, then."

"Ms. Wanda! I am pleased to meet you." Peter suddenly gets his tongue back as he interrupts the weird look Wanda is giving you.

You shrug them both as you continued working on your homework, the intense gaze of Wanda didn't leave your figure. You felt it intensely but ignored it as she always did this whenever you and her were both in the same premises like the hallways or in the bathroom even in the active discussion of the classroom. A heavy feeling at the back of your head will always situated itself during class and then when you look back, you will see her smirking, grinning as she shrugs. 

And that irritated you immensely. 

"You don't have to call me that, Parker. Made me feel like I'm bullying you or something." Wanda stated, eyes focused on your face as she tilted her head in interest. 

"If you're gonna stare at me longer, I will poke your eyes out with the pen I'm using." You calmly stated, hands moving fast with determination as the flow of your handwriting fills your notebook easily. 

Wanda's lips twitch in a satisfied grin, leaning back on the chair to make herself feel at home with you and Peter's company. She looks away, though, eyeing the way your hand moves diligently, you look up suddenly to stare at her, noticing the light pink spreading on her ears. 

"Aren't you gonna leave?" 

"Why would I?" She challenges you happily, tilting her head once more in determination. 

"This is our table." You tap the wooden commodity impatiently.

Wanda looks around the table, ducking seriously then shrugging, "There's no name written on it."

"Well, fuck you." You stood up suddenly, tired of having Wanda's budgering presence in your study session. 

She notices the brisk movement you had made in cleaning your things away, she scrambles on her feet to trail behind your swift motions of fleeing away, leaving Peter to trail behind the two of you in an alert manner. 

"I will gladly do that, if you let me." She huffs out, catching up onto your fast feet in ease. 

You instantaneously turn to glower at her, "Leave me alone and you smell like cigarettes. I hate people who smoke, they disgust me. Get away, Maximoff." 

With that you completely left her frozen in the middle of the hallways, you have noticed the sudden fall of her eyes but you shrug it off with nonchalant. Not caring if Peter is following you or not, you continue moving to go to the comforts of your home.

In the walls of your cozy home, the attitude you had in school is completely gone, exchanged with the sweetest daughter your mom could ever have. Calling out a greeting happily in the doorway, your body tenses at the silence of the structure. Hastily taking your shoes off before entering the premises, you once again called.

"Mom?" You peak your head at her office, eyes downcasted as you meet an empty room. 

You push the slightly ajar door of the master bedroom, not thinking too deeply, you open the door wide and open, only to be greeted in a sight you hated to see. 

Your mom scrambles off the hug she had committed with the man you cursed every night. Frowning at their closeness, you turn your back at them. 

"Honey, wait—"

Daughters shouldn't feel weird seeing their parents hug, right? But you had different circumstances, and these circumstances are dangerous and the root of all your problems. 

Your dad has been absent all your life, maybe not all, but half of it. He was good first, like all men do, he was a good father not until he started becoming an addict. Hurting your mom in front of your eyes, verbally abusing her like she was not his wife but a woman who cooks and cleans his stuff, you suffer deeply as you watch helplessly with your small body.

You were just a child and everything unfolds before your eyes.

They had divorce, you thought it was the end of it all but love works in a very cruel way. 

That's why you hated it.

You couldn't understand how your mom would easily take him back like it was nothing, like everything he has done was some sort of insignificant action that requires second chances.

You wiped the tears rushing down your cheeks, quickly putting on your shoes, you gave up on them as you heard the rushing heavy steps of the pair. Cursing deeply, you let your sock covered feet meet the hot surface of the pavement, running fast as your lungs felt heavier each sob and cry you let out. 

Your feet led you in a place you're unfamiliar with, an old playground. It looks sinister in the eyes of a scared teenager, but you were angry and sad, so this playground was the most comfortable place to have your sobs ring once again. 

You sit quietly on the swing, hiccuping at the remnants of your breakdown, you rest your foot on your lap, examining a circled red spot that spreads out quickly into a big one. 

You stare up at the night sky, lips downwards as you let out a sudden sob again for the third time. You didn't know how many minutes your running took up and you surely didn't know how many hours you had stayed in the playground.

"That's the second time you sob." A voice rang out in the spur of the moment. You immediately sit up, looking around just to see Wanda poking her head out of the playhouse. 

You frowned.

"This is my playground." She says, holding her two hands up. 

You stayed silent, gulping at the instant embarrassment to have sobbed in front of somebody. She would surely be on a field trip to gossip about this with her senior friends. This will be the new topic being passed around tomorrow, a crying sad girl who can't get over her daddy.

Wanda unexpectedly sat beside the empty swing, her eyes darting up the sky. "I have been here for hours in case you will think I'm following you around."

A curt laugh escapes your mouth, she whips her head to look at you, a sight to see a laughing tear-stained girl beside her. Wanda repressed the twitching of her mouth. 

"That did not make me feel better."

"I was not trying to make you feel better." She replied instantly, her swing moving forward and back with the control of her two planted feet on the ground.

You let the silence comfort the both of you, let it envelope on whatever the atmosphere settled in. You sigh cautiously, "Knowing you had heard me sob is embarrassing for me."

"Crying is not embarrassing," she immediately answers. "You're human, you are allowed to feel things."

"It is still embarrassing. Out of all the people, it had to be you, who had caught me in such a vulnerable state." Your voice was void from anger or the usual snappiness you had used often with her.

Wanda hums, eyeing you at the corner of her eyes in hopes to not get caught but she can't really resist to not see your face. 

"Am I really that bad?" She asks.

"Yes."

"Ouch." 

You once again laugh at her reply, Wanda couldn't resist anymore as she brazenly stares at you. Her chest slowly thumping at the sounds you are making, she wants to keep it in her pocket and hear it every night before she falls asleep. You intrigued her. Deeply. 

Wanda watches as you suddenly stand up, wincing slightly at the weight you're putting on your feet. She notices the absence of your shoes, she grimaces at the sight. 

Grasping at your wrist, Wanda pulls you down, "Sit." 

Your brows furrowed at her actions, fast rambling harsh notes of your voice ready to spurt out but died once she kneels in front of you. She takes off her boots gingerly, putting it aside while huffing out slightly as she takes a hold of the sides of your foot carefully taking off your dirty socks. 

You move your feet away but she grips it gently, "Don't." She raises an eyebrow at you, her free hand moving swiftly on the pockets of her leather jacket to pull out a band-aid. 

"Is running with no shoes a new trend for geniuses, is that how they pump up their brain cells?" She asks with a hint of playfulness in the timbres of her voice, she easily turns your foot to look at the wound placed at the soles.

Your eyes roll without a tinge of annoyance, "Yes, you have to do it sometimes to pump up your brain cells. Oh, wait. Do you have one?"

Wanda chuckles, "Jesus, I am here kneeling in front of you and you insult me?"

"I didn't tell you to kneel and do whatever this is."

"A thank you will suffice, sweetheart. You don't have to be such a stick-ass."

Setting your injured foot on her knees, Wanda shrugs off the cover of the band-aid and delicately places it on top of the wound, "Stay still."

"Do you always have a band-aid on your pockets?" You ask quietly.

She looks up swiftly, "Yeah, if you have a brother who somehow attracts trouble. You gotta have one." 

You observed her closely, the hunch posture she has just to put on a band-aid on your wounded foot, the furrowing of her eyebrows as she concentrated on placing it accurately and delicately. You let yourself feel her gentle hands, the fingertips of a girl who smokes, has no regard for academic life, who apparently did drugs on the back of the gym. 

The girl who always sat at the farthest back of the room.

You blink as she puts on your dirty socks, her hands wrapping around your foot to push it gently on her worn out black boots. You watch as the hands filled with rings tie the shoelaces securely, you eyed her unprotected feet, only covered by her socks.

"You can give it back tomorrow. I know it's worn out but it will do for the meantime." 

"I don't need this." 

Wanda sighs at your stubborn words, she stands up, pulling herself upwards, hands placed sternly at her chest as she tilts her head at you, "I told you it's not for free, give it back tomorrow." 

Your eyes lingers on her face, she looks away instantly, turning her back at you to walk away, "Bring it back tomorrow." She reminded you once again. 

The light padding of her sock covered feet remains on your eyes, she tucked her hands on the pockets of her leather jacket as you see the way her shoulders hanged lowly.

"Thank you!" You shout suddenly.

Wanda turns her head to give you a grin and completely leaves you alone once again. The presence of the heavy material of her big boots dawdles at your being and the sight of her uncovered feet engraved rightfully on your mind.

The morning after didn't make everything easier for you. You didn't really had the energy to sneak inside your house quietly last night, so you barged in with no regard if your mother was sleeping peacefully with the cursed man. 

In result, you had to listen to her explain what you had seen. That everything is just fine, they are not back together. 

"Your father just wanted to apologize." That was your mother's words, her hands placed gently on your cheeks as she frowns at your quiet reply. You didn't talk to her after that, trudging your tired body and slept heavily in the comforts of your bed.

The morning is definitely not the best for your death-driven body. The loud voices of the high schoolers did not help calm down the raging migraine you had, your eyes are dry and are throbbing in the most uncomfortable way you had experienced. Your backpack is heavy, reminding you of the boots shoved inside of it, and making you replay the delicate interaction you had with the brown-haired girl. 

"Are you okay?" Peter's voice grounds you in reality, you knock your forehead hardly on your locker.

"I am dying." You muttered, eyes closed as you tried to fade out the voices of the students.

"We can go to the infirmary if you'd like," He suggested. "Your mom called last night, asking where you were." 

Your posture straightened at the mention of your mom, you eyed him. 

"I told her I didn't know because I really didn't. But she was crying and that made me panic so I started looking for you and in distress I almost got knocked out by a car." He rambles hastily.

Your chest thumps at the chain of events he's sharing, "You almost got hit by a car?"

He waves his hands dismissively, "Almost. So it never happened. What I'm saying is, Wanda almost hit me with her car, or I don't know. Is she supposed to be driving? Is that legal?"

"Wanda? What's she got to do with this?" You said defensively, shoulders tensing at the sudden mention of the girl. The weight of your backpack weighs heavily on your being. 

"Well, she definitely noticed the distress I had at the possibility of you running away but I knew you would never do that. She volunteered to help me look for you and I don't know, late at night she called my home landline and said you're safe back home." Peter says, he looks concerned as he reminisces about the events that happened last night. 

"Where are you going?" He shouts, gaping at the sudden motions of your fleeing body. 

Ignoring him, you focused on leading yourself in the classroom you shared with her. Standing beside her oblivious sitting figure, you dump your back pack loudly on top of her desk.

Wanda jumps at the sound it made, she looks up to eye you confusedly. 

"You can take your boots." You grits, aggressively opening your backpack to laid out her worn out boots on her desk. 

"Well, you're welcome." She says confusedly, straightening her back to look at you carefully. 

"I don't need your help, Wanda. I don't know what tricks you have in your leather jacket but please, don't use my vulnerability or the vulnerability of my friend just to get into my pants." 

Wanda furrows her brows, "Not everything is about getting into your pants, Y/N."

"Then is everything not about drugs to you?" You retort back, glaring at her. 

The chair almost fell at her sudden posture, it hiss loudly at the sudden quiet of the classroom as she stood up. Looking down at you with indescribable eyes, "I was just trying to help."

"I don't need your help."

"I don't care if you see yourself as a God or something but you don't get to be an asshole just because you're not accustomed to getting help from people. And I don't fucking do drugs." With that she pushes you gently to make her way out of the door. 

You stood quietly beside her desk, the boots taunting you loudly with its appearance. 

That was two weeks ago. The complete turn around of you and Wanda's interaction was something you should analyse for better comprehension of what has happened. The girl no longer stares at you, you can no longer feel her heavy eyes at the back of your head. 

It shouldn't phase you, but it did. 

It bothered you how she looks solemn at the hallways, how she stares at everything but you. And the current shenanigans of high school are not helping you with your strange predicament. 

"You're the top of the class, Y/N. You are the top of everything. You can do it." Peter trails behind you, his voice has been pleading for the past minutes. 

"I am not gonna tutor Maximoff. She asked you, not me. And I don't care if you suddenly got balls and asked MJ out for a date but I don't care. Either the date or tutor." You reasoned out once again.

Peter has been begging you to take his place for tutoring. He said Wanda asked him for it and he has been helping her with studying for the past days, he said the girl wanted to graduate and she can't if she'll fail for the last exams of the school year. 

You vaguely remember replying to Peter's explanation of his situation. "She wanted to graduate, she should've been more careful for the past years and not be a fucking delinquent." 

And now, Peter wants you to take this one day of tutoring for Wanda because he has a date with his long-time crush. If you didn't feel guilty at your sudden outburst at the older girl, you would've taken his request with no questions asked. But, you do. So, Peter can suck it up or completely cut off whatever friendship he had with you. 

"Please, I'll do anything for you." He begged, clutching the straps of his backpack tightly.

"What can you possibly do for me."

"I'll spread the information that you're not a virgin?" 

You gave him a look, "That would help me? Fuck off, then." 

Peter sputters behind you, running to chase your fast feet. "Help me or I'll tell your mom Wanda helped look for you that night and she will do her gratitude routine of cooking and asking you to bring her so she can thank her and have dinner and—"

"Okay, fine!" You cut him off, glaring at the sheepish smile he has, "Just this once."

That's how you found yourself at Wanda's front door, books clutching tightly on your chest as you await for her to open the door.

Her house looks smaller compared to yours, it is also situated in a known neighbourhood, the neighbourhood of which the parents used to scare off their children. It was a weird stereotype, definitely harmful for the people who reside in it, but it helped them discipline the itchy travelling feet of kids. 

The front door let out a loud sound as it was yanked heavily from the other side. Wanda stands still on her doorway, her messy long hair cascades itself down on her shoulders, the oversized black sweater she wore suddenly felt heavy on your intense gaze at her figure. 

You suddenly realized, you have never seen Wanda with her hair down. 

"What are you doing here?" She asks.

"To tutor you." You replied dismissively, raising an eyebrow at her scowling face. 

"Peter is the one helping me." 

"Well, sucks for you, sweetheart. Peter has a date and he asked me to do this." You impatiently tap your foot at her wooden porch, Wanda's face colored at your words, furrowing her eyebrow deeply. 

"Are you gonna let me in or are you gonna keep scowling at me for the rest of the day?" 

Licking the bottom of her lips, Wanda pursed her mouth as she opened the door wide for you to let in.

Wanda led you quietly to her bedroom, you eyed the frames placed on their walls as you finally set your sights on her room. Her room was something you had not thought of, it was neat and decorated nicely. She had posters of different bands plastered on her wall, a shelf filled with old books, a desk organized tidily.

"What, you think I have a messy room?" She mutters. "Me and Peter usually do the studying on the floor but if you're allergic to that, my desk will do but it's small so I don't know what you prefer."

You gaze at her, "Floor then. So, if my allergies act up and I die, it's your fault." You plop gracefully down at her floor, your back pressed tightly on the side of her bed. 

She stood awkwardly in front of you, "Um, do you want something to drink?"

"No, let's start with physics." Wanda sighs tiredly, sitting cross-legged beside you as she leans into the notes you had written. 

Time steadily passes by with you explaining the different formulas used in physics. Wanda quietly listens to your voice, the hardness of it, the tinge of sassiness that eased her to lean in closer in hopes to hear it loudly. 

She snapped herself awake when you glared at her. She repressed a smile at the endearing sight you have given her. 

"I am really impressed, you and Peter are a year younger than me and yet, you both know these lessons being taught to seniors." Wanda comments, her eyes downcasted to the notebook she situated on her lap.

"That's called studying." You replied, crossing your legs comfortably. Wanda's eyes flickers on your movements, lingering on the foot being tucked under your thigh. 

"Is your foot okay?" She suddenly questions, eyes still focused on the problem you had invented for her to solve. 

You froze at her words, darting your vision out of her form, you bit your cheek too harshly, "Yes." 

Then you suddenly blurted the words, "I'm sorry." 

Wanda's eyes focuses on you, her knees straightened out as she lets down her pen beside her thighs. "What for?" 

"For being an asshole, the words I lashed out were," you grimace, "Bad and I'm being a prick."

"It's fine," She draws out the words like she's contemplating at the next combination of syllables she's about to make, "I– nevermind. It's okay." 

She smiles. 

You nod at her, your sights focused on the clutter of notebooks and books in front of you. The all too familiar boots sits steadily on the side of her cabinet, your brows furrowed as your eye stayed on the object. 

"Just so you know, I appreciate it deeply," your voice wavers, you tried to glance at her but your eyes stayed frozen on the ground.

Wanda clears her throat, gaining your attention back to her, she tilts her head, "Uh– you're welcome?"

"The boots, I mean. And for looking for me, even though we're not that even close. I deeply apologize again, I know not everyone wants to get into my pants." 

Wanda's lips twitches in a wide grin, "Apology accepted, no need to feel bad about it."

And then for the first time, you looked fully right at her face. The greenest shade of green pools at her eyes, the usual blackened make-up she wore daily is nowhere to be seen, giving you the barest face of a Wanda Maximoff. She's pretty. And that made you snapped out of your thoughts. 

Furrowing, you forced a smile, "Great! You got the hang of physics. Good job, by the way,"

Wanda's ears colored, she nods wildly. 

"But I have to go, Peter can continue where we left off. I can't really stay late."

"Let me drive you–" Wanda quickly gets on her feet, her eyes darting everywhere as she looks for her shoes tucked in the corner of her room.

"It's fine!" you quickly replied, shoving whatever your hands could get as fast as you can. Finally finished the task, you quickly walk towards her door, a frantic Wanda trailing behind you as she stumbles into the side of her door.

"Shit, fuc— Y/N, hey!" you look back to gaze at her. Wanda heaves out, "Will it be too much to ask you to tutor me instead?"

Your brows furrowed, "In your dreams, Maximoff." 

That was weird. Everything is weird after that with Wanda or maybe it's just you and your strange erupting feeling for the older girl. This can't be happening, you told yourself that a hundred times. 

"Y/N, I got you something. It's for tutoring Wanda." Peter's distracted voice as he rummages at his backpack made you raised an eyebrow at the boy.

"And you thought of giving me a gift a week after that?"

Peter sighs, "Hey, I have to think thoroughly about what I give you. You are one hell of a picker," he pushes off a small box across the table, a grin plastered on his face.

"What is this?"

"It's a bracelet," you could practically feel the bouncing of his knees, "Open it, Wanda made it."

That made you snap your head at him, your eyes pierced. Peter backtracks at your stare, his eyes darting anywhere as he tries to make up of your indescribable expression.

"Wanda made it? Why would she?"

"Well, she kind of the one suggested it along with some of my inputs," the whisper tone the boy used made you glare at him, he sputters, "Okay, okay! she was the one who suggested it, you know. Asked me if i have given you something for tutoring her, and I was like we never give each other gifts for doing favors and then she was defending it like—"

"You can stop now, your voice is getting an octave higher the seconds passes by." you monotonely said, the calculated calmness your voice emits contradicts the hard thump your heart made over Peter's words. 

Why is she making this confusing for you?

What are you even confused about?

"Y/N, I didn't know you volunteered for the student council," the familiar low tone of a voice made you freeze, your posture straightened at the sudden presence of Wanda Maximoff.

The banners you are currently holding crumpled helplessly under your grasp, placing a practiced emotionless face, you turned around to face her, "I should be the one saying that. Since when are you a volunteer here?" 

Wanda's grin widens at seeing your face fully, the corners of her eyes crinkled, "Since now." and a bashful smile comes next, "Do you need help with the banners? I'll help you." 

Before you could protest, she's already leaning towards you, taking the crumpled banners out of your hand as you felt the delicate warmth of her fingertips. Wanda's eyes though stopped completely at the sight of a bracelet steadily situated at your wrist, her face turns red as she quickly looks away.

Clearing her throat, she mutters, "Your bracelet looks nice."

Your eyes rolled, "Oh please, you're the one who made it."

Wanda sputters completely, the light redness of her face turns into a shade darker, "Did Peter tell you?"

"Peter always tell. That boy can't hold off his tongue." you turned your back at her, hair whipping everywhere as you crouch to take the pair of scissors laying on the ground. Continuing the task of cutting the banners for the upcoming school festival, you situated yourself at the steps of the stage of your school's gymnasium. 

Students are scattered everywhere, with each assigned tasks, they made the chatters moderate with casual shoutings and errands being asked by the officers. You let Wanda follow you, her presence prickling the side of your body. 

"Aren't you gonna help?"

"I am helping." she says, taking the scissors out of your hand and smiling, "See? helping."

"Look, Wanda. I don't know what your deal is, but you have to stop."

That made the older girl freeze, her green eyes gazing at you, "My deal? I'm just volunteering, Y/N."

"You can volunteer at different places, the gymnasium is big, and aren't you like I don't know, good at bullshiting shit? The Creative committee needed someone to think of something, do that." you yank the scissors back, giving her an eyebrow raised. 

Wanda stayed, a grin making her way into her face as your face fell. 

"Was that a compliment?"

"Please, fuck off."

Fucking off was something Wanda is not good at, in fact, she's allergic to that. You don't know what she wants or what her deal is but she seems to have a way to be with you. Be it with the volunteering excuses, the gymnasium is big and yet she manages to stay right beside you, a scissor in hand as she grins asking for your guidance on what to do with the banners, when you just exasperatedly explained to her how to cut the banners days ago. 

Aside from the volunteering shenanigans, she completely abandons the usual seat she always takes at the back of the room, moving a few seats in front just to sit right beside you. You clutched the ballpen in your hand too hard that day, almost snapping it in half. 

It made your blood boil.

She makes excuses, petty ones, to get close to you. She even told her jock friend to hit her in the face so she could go to the infirmary just to be your patient as you are volunteering at your school's clinic. 

Watching the small swelling at the side of her face as she greets you happily, you only gave her a glare, wishing for her to vanish. But of course, you can't do that. You asked to be a volunteer, you made yourself do this. 

"It hurts here." she says, pointing at her face.

You ignored her, rummaging in the cabinet to take an ointment, your voice drawls out, "Keep your head elevated."

Straightening her posture, Wanda replies, "Yes, ma'am." you can hear the grin in her tone, the tinge of joy swaying at the timbres of her voice. You grasp the ice pack a little too tight. 

Standing in front of her, you leaned down to her sitting posture on the edge of the bed. Faces inches away from each other, you didn't notice the hitch of Wanda's breath as your face came closer. 

She pulls her head back, you glared at her, "What the fuck, I need to see." you gritted. 

Grasping her chin between your thumbs to turn her head and leaned in closer. You're so focused on observing the swelling that you didn't see the gulping of Wanda's throat. 

Wanda prays for the very first time at that moment.

Because the beating of her heart was so loud, she felt it thrumming painfully on her chest as your thumb burns at the skin of her chin, and the breaths you let out made her want to scream. She prays for whoever is above to please don't make the sounds of her beating heart too loud.

It was worth it. Wanda told herself that day, to get hit by a ball at the side of her face, it was all worth it. She finally got your face close to her, she could finally have the image of you leaning closer to her.

It was all worth it.

"Was it all worth it?" Peter asks, his cheeks stuffed with the burger he had brought at the cafeteria.

It was a tuesday. Three days after Wanda pulled that little stunt of visiting you in the clinic. After gently tapping the ointment in her skin and instructing her to place the ice pack directly at her bruised face, Wanda left the premises with a red face and dilated pupils. 

Her mannerisms were strange, and the growing tinge of red from her neck up to her face made you think twice if you should have given her a thermometer rather than an ice pack. Everything is strange about Wanda and your finger can't seem to point at what it is.

"Worth it of what?" you asked, eyes focused on the book you are reading, expertly weaving through the crowded place despite your eyes not on the busy, dangerous hallways of high school. 

"The volunteering. Festival is in a week or two. I heard there will be a dance."

"I don't think there's a dance."

Peter shrugs, "Wanda told me there is a dance so.."

Your head whips so fast, "Why would she know anything about the council's plan for the festival?" 

The boy hides a knowing smirk, seeing his love allergic friend so interested in a girl, "She's in the Creatives committee, did she not inform you?"

That made you frown, "Why would she inform me?"

"Well, I don't know. Every time my head turns she's always lurking close to you, it's weird she's not here."

It is weird. 

But you pay no attention to it. Wanda Maximoff's sudden absence in your surroundings shouldn't take up a space in your mind but it did and it made you angry how a delinquent girl made you waste an ounce of energy thinking about her weird disappearance. 

It was not even a long disappearance, because an hour after the walk with Peter in the hallways, Wanda peaks her head at the door of your assigned classroom for a certain club meeting. Taking long strides as she clutches her bag too tightly, Wanda nervously sits beside you. 

Ignoring her taunting presence completely, you heard her clearing her throat as she tapped your hand gently. Furrowing, your eyes follow the movement of her hand. 

Wanda glides a single rose onto your desk, the hard nibbling of her bottom lip made her taste some coppery taste of her blood.

"What is this?" you ask.

"A rose." 

Your eyes rolled, pushing the rose away. Wanda's face fell, scrambling to explain her action well, she took a hold of your hand, "I'm asking you for the festival dance."

Your eyes lingered on her hand, she noticed your gaze. Yanking her hand away from your warm ones, Wanda gives out a nervous smile, "Will you go with me to the dance?"

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to." she quickly answers.

The scrapping of the chair onto the ground resonates throughout the room. Without a second thought, you stood up. Your face is cold, "No." 

"Y/N, I like y–"

Not taking a single care about the meeting that is about to begin and the whiplashing words of Wanda's, you have found yourself walking away. 

This is what you have hated. Gestures of love, intimate touches, stares, the blunt efforts to be with you. How can you be so blind to her advances? You should have avoided it earlier than you have noticed and yet you let her, because somewhere along the deep hate you have for romance and love– Wanda made you rethink your perception about what you have ground yourself into. 

That love is not real and it will never be.

And you are fuming every minute her face flashes right at your mind. The perfect fall of her face as you have muttered the single word no. That one word seems like the only key to shatter one's world, especially Wanda's.

After her failed confession that you have clearly heard despite it being rushed and expontenous, you have avoided her at all cost. Getting a glance at a leather jacket? Turn around and move. Receiving a sudden whiff of vanilla scented perfume? Go to the other side of the campus. Easy as that. 

No, scratch that. 

If it was easy, why are you being cornered by a girl with a leather jacket and an all too familiar vanilla scent?

"Why are you avoiding me?" Wanda's pleading voice made you peer up into her glazing eyes.

"I'm not avoiding you."

"Bullshit. You are avoiding me."

You smiled, "Good job, seems like you got the gist of it then," your hand reaches onto her shoulders to push her away but she stayed planted, leaning even more so closer to your furrowed face. 

"Y/N, you don't have to avoid me just because you rejected me to be my date on the dance. I take rejections very well." she says, her eyes searching for something in your cold ones. 

"Well, I don't," you said, your voice hardening at every word that is about to be said, "I don't like associating myself with people who want to get into my pants."

"Y/N, I told you. I am not–"

"Especially you." 

With that, Wanda lets her hands fall slack into her sides, letting you have the chance to finally escape and run away once again. 

Your back turns, finally about to walk away when a grip latches into your wrist, spinning you around. And in a blur of a moment, Wanda's soft lips crashes into yours. Your thoughts plays a continuous blaring sounds, an alarm is everywhere in your mind. 

Maybe it was the panic of what is happening or a defense mechanism on your part or maybe just your desire but you have kissed Wanda back. Your lips fitting perfectly at hers, dancing a delicate sway as Wanda sighs and forces herself to bite back whatever whimper is about to let out of her mouth. The feel of your lips, the taste of it, you kissing her back. It was all too real for Wanda.

When your back touches the wall with how Wanda's weight is leaning into you closer and closer, you snap back. Shoving her away instantly, your face glowered in shame.

"You take rejections very well yet you forced yourself on me." your voice betrays you as it wavers significantly.

Wanda catches her breath, the hazy look surrounds her features, her eyes are dazed as she tries to understand what you are saying.

"You kissed me back." she declares, eyes unfocused.

"I was in the heat of the moment, it does not mean anything to m–"

"You kissed me back."

Your mouth tight shut, chest heaving, your eyes focused on Wanda's piercing ones. She's looking at you like you hung the moon and stars, she blinks, trying to calm her wild beating heart. 

You shouldn't be doing this. You shouldn't be kissing people and have your heart beat crazily for them. 

"It was a mis–"

"Please, don't say that," Wanda pleaded, her eyes searching desperately in your hardened ones. "Don't say that. I will cry right here in front of you. Don't you dare say that, Y/N." 

"What? You want me to lie? Is that what you want?" your voice holds icy-cold, Wanda's eyes fall at your words.

You take in her silence as a sign that she has finally given up, clutching the sudden opportunity to flee away from her. Your back turns once again, without looking back, your steps are brisk as you walk away, not without hearing the sounds of approaching steps. 

Sighing as your eyes fell upon Wanda's firm stance in front of you. She blocks your opportunity to run away. 

"Y/N, I will treat you right. Just give me a chance."

"Why are you this desperate?"

Wanda staggers at your words, "Why are you a coward?"

That made you snap your eyes at her, your usual glare finally appearing in your face, "Coward?"

"Yes!" she exasperatedly shouts, her brows are furrowing so deeply, you want to reach out and soothe it completely but your mind holds you back tightly. "You fear love, you are a coward. Love will not kill you, Y/N. I can show you, let me show you." 

With brave steps, Wanda reaches out and clasp your hands into hers, she eyes you, pleading for you to see her fully, "I am not like them. I really like you, let me show you how serious I am, please. Just give me a chance if you feel like I'm not genuine enough then we can stop. Just give me a chance."

You took in her words, you followed it. You watched her fully, staring at her sincere eyes, the heavy movements of her chest as she desperately tried to hold your stare. Her blazing eyes as it plays dangerously in the borders of crying or brawling out, you took her image thoroughly. 

Then you succumb fully at her request. 

To give her a chance.

You hide behind the reason of knowing she will never give up unless you give in, when in reality you wanted to test out if she's real, you badly want her to show you that you are wrong. That love is real and that you can experience it with her. 

You didn’t say yes but you didn’t say no either, you just say, “I don’t do chances.”

Wanda, the ever-loving witty Wanda didn’t argue, she just smiled, chest heaving out, the corners of her mouth tugging, soft and small, like she won something.

"Here," Wanda softly mutters, sliding in a tray full of all too familiar food.

You gaze at her, eyebrows raising in a mix of surprise and suspicion, but mainly suspicion, “What, you decided to poison me now after your love confe—” the words died down as the scent hits you fast before the sight does. 

A soft delicious aroma fills in one of your senses, it rises into the air and fills in right at your stomach. Buttery, savory, a touch of rosemary, and the growling of betrayal from your stomach. This is just a day after the kiss happened, after you begrudgingly accepted her proposal of giving her a chance. You didn't know giving Wanda a chance would mean having your own chef.

You're not complaining though as the scent does not disappoint as well as the sight. On the tray sits a plate of creamy mashed potato beside it is a plate of garlic butter chicken, its color shines golden brown which reminds you of the sun setting in, the edges crispsed just right, and you just know the flavors will melt right at your tongue. 

Then a question surfaces, “You cooked this at the school cafeteria?”

Wanda’s eyes shines in mischief, she shrugs, “I have my ways.”

“Tell me.” it's an order.

Wanda could never ignore an order, “Well, I cooked it at home and asked to reheat it at the cafeteria and make it visually attractive for you to see and of course eat.” she sheepishly muttered.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I know.”

You stare at the tray for too long, Wanda’s eyes gazes at you heavily, and with a sigh your hand picks up the fork, “This doesn't mean anything.”

“I didn’t say it did.”

Your hand hovers above the food, hesitating, and after a while you give in. The first bite is warm and smooth right at your tongue, the taste is just like what you imagined upon seeing the food, its grounding in a way that makes you feel too exposed. It’s more than a food, it's a food cooked by Wanda, it's intentional. 

You chew slowly, pretending not to feel and swallowing what would taste like love. 

“We need rules.”

Wanda tilts her head, “Rules? Shoot.”

“If we are… whatever this—” your hand points between your chest and hers “—is now, there needs to be a rule.”

Wanda raises an eyebrow, her face surrounds seriousness, feigning seriousness, “That’s easy, lay them on me. I solemnly swear to try and almost abide all rules and laws that would satisfy the girl of my dreams.”

Your eyes narrowed, “I’m serious.”

Wanda straightens her posture and holds up her two fingers adorned with rings like she is being sworn into court, “Scout’s honor.” 

You cleared your throat, eyes narrowed at her figure as you say, “No talking about the future.”

Wanda nods thoughtfully, “No talking witchcraft futures, just the chaos of the present. Got it.”

You ignored her, “No pet names, that thing makes me want to run.”

She hums, “So, no more “sweetheart” or “babycakes”? maybe we can change that rule—”

Your eyes answers with a glare.

She gave out a wide smile, hands up in a surrendering manner, “Okay okay. No pet names, not even ironically.”

“And no touching me unless I touch you first.”

You saw something shift on Wanda, not disappointment, maybe a tinge of it, but something purely a clench of restraint. You saw how her eyes drop down to your hands and back right on your face. 

“That’s gonna be torture, swee–” a look was given, she clears her throat. “That's gonna be torture, but fine. Your body, your rules. But it is kind of unfair if I may say.”

Your eyes roll as your mouth forms a disapproving sound, “What now?”

“You can touch me but I can’t touch you. How will I make sure you’re not bending the rules to your advantage?” Wanda tilts her head, the corners of her corner twitches at the sight of your increasing tinge of red cheeks.

“Fine. Before touching, ask first.” 

“Can I hold your hand?”

“No.”

The words stop and quiet stills in between you and Wanda. As the silence places itself comfortably in your surroundings, you continue to chew, thinking, and hating how warm the food makes you feel. 

“And don’t fall in love with me,” you say before you can stop yourself.

“I think it’s too late for that.”

You don’t respond.

You just eat.

The hallway is loud in late-afternoon, after classes kind of way, students loud gossiping, their chats ringing in and out of your ears, the lockers slamming as well as the books being hit off the metallic lockers, sneakers squeaking on the floor, someone’s playlist leaking too loud out of their headphones. You weave through it all, face pasted down a book, like a soldier at ease weaving through all the landmines. 

You haven’t seen Wanda all day.

Well— you have seen her. Just flashes of her actually, first, she was there early in the morning outside your home. 

“I’m driving you to school.” that’s what she planned out.

“Do you even have a license?” you retort, already walking away.

She jumps, pushes herself away from her car as she staggers to catch up to your quick footsteps, “I do, I have license.”

“Congratulations.” you said as you stepped foot at the bus, giving her a wave.

Second, you saw her waiting for you to finish your biology class. You walk towards her, eyes narrowed as you see how she’s practically bouncing on her steps.

When her eyes met yours, she gave you a wide smile that made your heart a tiny stumble. 

“I will be busy with the creative committee, I don’t think I can eat lunch with you.” she apologetically stated, then she handed out a paper bag, “Here, your lunch.”

“I have lunch.”

“Of course you have,” she waves the paper bag, “—lunch?”

So, you did seen her, well– that was the last you have seen her, at around nine-thirty eight in the morning, not that you’re noting the time of your last conversation but you have seen the flashes of her leather jacket in the committee’s office, her laughter echoing as you walk by it, and the glimpse of her hair catching the sunlight in a way that makes your stomach feel stupid.

When did this started again?

Oh, you know very well. It started with the lunches.

Each day, as sure as the sun rises, there’s a lunchbox waiting or a tray full of food being shoved right at your face. The food is always consistently your favorite food, and everyday you don’t know how she knows. Sometimes it’s leftovers Wanda prepared at home, and when it’s not lunch she gives you something store bought, sometimes a snack with a juicebox, or a sandwich which you have taken note of the intricately sliced diagonal line and a sticky note which reads something stupid like: “Eat or perish, your choice.”

You never asked for them, she just never makes a big deal of giving them. She simply leaves them on your usual spot at the library or hands them to you quietly, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

And then there are the rides.

She begins appearing in front of your house ten minutes before your alarm goes off. No pressure, no warning, she’s just standing next to her beat-up car with headphones on, arms crossed like she's not in a hurry at all. 

She never questions why you're always ready, even though you pretend otherwise, with eyes narrowed and eyebrows raised.

And after school, she waits. Keys spinning in her fingers, window rolled down.

"Need a ride?"

Every time.

During breaks, she escorts you to class.

That’s where you learned she’s a talker, asking “How was Mr. Finch?” and giving a side comment of, “He’s giving constipated scarecrow energy.” or yapping the most randomest topic you could ever encounter, “Who decided ghost can walk through walls but can’t fall through the floor? Who decided which solid is solid?” 

You nod, hummed, shrug, not in that order, but that mixture of replies was what you have given Wanda throughout her ted talk sessions.

You find her once during one of your volunteer hours at the animal shelter. She's sitting on the curb, de-linting her fishnets, her brown hair sitting prettily with her usual ponytail, you could see the structure of the bridge of her nose, the sunset’s orange hue cascading down her frame magnificently.

You blink, "What are you doing here?"

She shrugs, "Didn't want you to be alone with a hundred cats."

"You're allergic.”

She shrugs once more, a hint of smile playing at her lips, "Worth it."

You feign not to smile and she smirks like she knows you did.

Even when you're quiet, she's there, even when you're freezing, she stays and even when you attempt to keep your walls up and your emotions in check, she's always appearing like loving you isn't something she fears, like loving you is a choice she made and intends to continue making, firmly, both feet planted on the ground.

It doesn't make you any less scared, it just makes it more and more difficult to turn away.

You’re rounding up the science wing when Peter falls into a step beside you like he’s been waiting all day to catch a conversation with you.

“Sooo..” He draws out, dragging the word as he pops a chip, “I heard you and Wanda are, like.. a thing or I dunno… A thing now.”

Your steps didn’t stop, you just gave him a look.

“Where’d you hear that?”

Peter grins in a way that annoys you, he elbows you gently, “....From Wanda.”

That slows you down. He notices it,  "She didn't quite say it, but she smiled after someone asked. Which is effectively an admission of some sort."

“She’s impossible,” you mumble.

Peter chuckles, “Sounds like love to me.”

You groan, “Sounds like hell.”

He taps you the chips he’s lovingly eating like a peace offering, “Same thing sometimes.”

“Are you really together?” He asks once again.

You groan, “Peter.”

“What? She brings you lunch every day. That's, like, marriage in cafeteria terms.” 

Your voice stilled, mind racing with no words to say. What are you supposed to feel about that? Being with Wanda these days feels nice, hell, it feels nicer than you ever felt in your entire life, but at the back of your mind, in the deeper innermost corner of your mind, a looming black shadow taunts you on what you feel, on this new profound happiness you feel with her.

Peter notices it, he empties the last of his chips, squashing the bag with a sharp crackle and then shooting it into the bin with a neat flick.

"You should go talk to her," he advises, rubbing his hands together. "She seemed kinda. I don't know. Hopeful today."

You push your hoodie sleeves up over your hands, fingers folding into the fabric. "She shouldn't be."

Peter turns his head, scowling. "Dude."

You don't look at him. "I didn't request her to bring me a meal every day. I didn't request her to stand outside my class or drive me home or take care of me."

Peter's stride slows. "Yeah," he says, softer now, "but you didn't tell her to stop either."

You don't say anything. Your fingers brush against your palms, nails hitting, gliding through the outermost layer of your skin.

"I'm just saying," he goes on, his tone softer now, "you keep doing this thing like she bulldozed her way in, like this wasn't something you allowed to happen."

You press your lips together. The hallway is silent, the muffled murmur of classrooms mixing with the buzz of ancient lights above is now dwindling down.

"You're gonna lose her."

That's the last he says before cutting off into the stairwell, his words lingering behind like a shadow that sticks with you.

You exhale, poised to shrug it off and make the turn towards your locker—when you freeze.

Wanda's standing there. Wanda.

She's standing a few feet in front, around the corner, half-concealed behind a trophy case. Her arms are crossed tightly, jaw set hard, eyes darker than normal. Her hair's a bit disheveled like she's just been running a hand through it, and there's a shake in her fingers that she's trying hard to suppress. And a thought passes by your mind, you badly want to hold her shaking hands.

She heard.

She heard it all.

When she spoke, the timbres of her voice was not the usual tone she always uses at you, her voice is level, too level and it slices like ice.

"You didn't ask me to care, huh?"

Your stomach falls, "Wanda—"

She takes one step forward. "It's okay. I understand now. Thanks for reminding me."

"No, that's not—"

"Don't," she cuts in, harder now, halting you in mid-sentence, "Don't do the thing where you act like this meant nothing to you."

You shake your head. "That's not fair—

"What's not fair is how I've been appearing day in and day out like a fool, like I'm needed," she bites. "Taking you lunch, standing by after class, driving you home—hoping, always hoping and you just stand there and pretend it's a bother."

Her voice cracks a little, and it hollows you out completely. 

"You think I didn't see the way you pause when people notice us? Like I'm a rumor you don't want to confirm?"

Your voice bursts out before you can catch yourself, "Because I don't know what this is!"

Wanda gazes at you as if she can't believe you've just spoken and then you utter it, the thing that kills what's left between you and her.

"I never asked for this."

The quiet that follows stings the both of you.

She laughs once, an empty sound. "God. You really don't get it."

"Wanda—"

“No," she says, voice shaking now, hanging together by threads. "You didn't ask but you let me in. You let me fall in love with you and the worst of it?" she blinks rapidly, jaw clenching. "I'd do it all over again. All of it. Even today, if you'd just try."

You open your mouth but no words come out.

"But I'm done begging someone to notice me when I've already given them everything.

She spins, disappearing in swift, purposeful strides. You saw how the sway of her hair disappearing before your eyes or how a paper bag is tossed right where she stands. A lump forms right at your throat as you let her walk away, kneeling to grasp the all too paper bag, clutching the remnants of what could've been or what should’ve been.

Then the hallway is a thousand miles long, filled with the echo of everything you may have just lost.

　　 　　˚ 　　. ✧ 𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼 ﹒ ◠ ✩ ⊹ ﹒ ✧. ★ ˚

The gymnasium reeks of hairspray and the mixture of different perfumes.

There's glitter stuck in the creases of the basketball court, the sort that sticks stubbornly to every surface like memories that refuse to be let go. String lights hang from the ceiling like vines of imprisoned starlight, and plastic stars hang in crooked rows, catching the stray gleam like they're effortfully attempting to be constellations. The disco ball makes slow, hypnotic revolutions, sending slivers of silver light onto the walls, floor, faces of too-hungry teenagers hugging one another in a painfully awkward slow dances.

The music being played is something soft and old-fashioned— you know this song, the all too familiar strumming of the guitar as the first words kiss me plays out. It’s a song that's a bit too mushy, the sort that swells at the exact moment someone makes some grandly romantic move in an older VHS film.

You never intended to attend the dance.

Not after the fight, not after the words you spoke that you didn't mean, or possibly did, at the time, because you were frightened and in pain and didn't know how to say any of it correctly.

Standing just inside the door, the buzzing gym lights overhead, pulse racing in your chest as if it's ticking down to something. You're not wearing like anybody else here, you’re not wearing something grand like them. It’s just a simple dress you found hidden underneath the pile of clothes you hid in your closet. You adjust your sleeves, standing awkwardly in your half-dress-up attempt at trying. Your gaze skitters around the room, searching for something—someone—and catching only fleeting glimpses of color, motion, and sound.

And then you see her.

Wanda.

She’s standing near the bleachers, half in shadow, half in the light that filters down from the swaying fairy lights above. Her arms are crossed, her head slightly tilted like she’s not sure why she came either. But she’s here and God, she looks like she belongs in every poem you’ve never dared to write.

Her dress is black velvet, hugging soft and respectful to her body, classy but subtle. Off-shoulder sleeves graze the underside of her collarbones, and her skin shines under the golden string lights. Her hair is curled tonight—not flamboyantly, just enough that a few strands frame her face as if they were naturally supposed to fall there. She is heartbreakingly gorgeous. 

She doesn't see you yet. 

So you approach—slow, reluctant, as if each step might send the moment fleeing. The people around you seem to part to make room, or perhaps you're not noticing anything else, just her. The rest of the world blurs into a gentle vignette, the music recedes into the background like a soundtrack created specifically for this moment.

When Wanda finally lifts her gaze, her eyes meet yours and it feels like gravity shifts.

Your breath freezes, her lips part, ever so slightly. Her brows rise in something akin to surprise, or hope, or disbelief.

You linger a few steps back.

"Hey," you whisper, your voice almost drowned out by the music. It's a delicate gesture, a start.

Wanda blinks, as if she's checking to see if this is real. Her speaking voice, when she does, is so soft it barely makes it to you. "You came."

You nod once, fingers jammed into your pockets like they might hold you together. "I wasn't going to."

She regards you warily, her face is not readable. You push on anyway, ignoring the loud thumping of beats in your head and in your chest.

"But I couldn't stop thinking about you."

That's when her arms relax, arms cascading down the sides of her body like the wall she's been pushing against wavers, uncertain.

"I was afraid," you admit with a hammering heart, "–still am. But the thing is— I missed you. I miss the way you make everything seem a little less loud, a little less like the world's too much." you swallow, "Even when I didn't know what to name it. Even when I screwed it all up.”

Wanda gazes down, eyelashes shadowing her cheeks. Her fingers wrap around her elbow as if it's the sole anchor holding her all together.

"You hurt me," she whispers, quiet but keen as a blade.

"I know," you breathe. "And I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—God, I didn't mean to. I just–I don't know how to do this but I want to learn, I want to try, with you."

And then nothing.

Wanda doesn't speak.

She merely gazes at you, and the entire world shifts on its side. The music diminishes to a muffled thud in the distance as if someone had cranked down the level on all sounds except your pulse. You swear that the air grows dense.

She's standing so motionless, too motionless, eyes on you but unreadable, lips parted a fraction like perhaps she's going to speak, maybe not. You can't tell, her face is an aggregate of all the emotions she's ever attempted to conceal.

And then she laughs—soft and wheezy and near-disbelieving, her eyes glint with something like exasperation and love.

"You're actually doing this now?" she asks, "Right in the middle of the gym? Like we're starring in some corny '90s high school movie?"

You shrug, smiling with a helpless sort of optimism, "Thought if I was gonna be cheesy, I might as well go rouge with it."

You extend your hand, your fingers slightly shaking, "Dance with me?"

She looks at it, her mouth clenched. You sense the weight of the ask between you—this is it, the turning point, the decision.

And then—slowly, quietly, Wanda eases her fingers into yours.

You pull her close, cautious like she might change her mind, but she doesn't pull away. Her hands find your shoulders, yours rest against her waist. Her touch is warm, familiar. A shock of relief floods your chest.

The music reverbates—something slow and aching, a little dramatic, just enough to feel like a moment you’ll never forget.

You sway, under the spinning haze of the disco ball, under the twinkle of plastic stars and strings, under the crush of all things unspoken, finally having room to breathe.

You move in, your forehead knocking against hers.

"I still don't know what we are," you whisper.

Her lips curve into a smile, "Then let's make it up as we go."

It happens slowly, you see how she moves in and you see how her eyes flicker down your lips, just for a second, and somehow it made the world shift beneath your feet, as if gravity begins to pull in a different direction, and you find yourself leaning towards her.

Her breath is warm and it's the softest collision when both of your lips touched. The kiss is soft, slow, gentle. The kind that makes the air feel sweeter, like the end of a storm, like the start of something better. It’s like the last tugging of a thread you meticulously tied, it unraveled everything, the high walls you build came crumbling down with every second your mouth moves against hers.

There is no one else in the room. It’s just her, Wanda and the moment instilled between the two of you. The string lights fuzz on the edges of your line of perception, and the music is just background, static beneath the beat of your own pounding heart. 

And for the first time, you’re not running.

You’re choosing her.

Again and again and again.

general masterlist

[puffleyia]

Dear Diary || Cedric Diggory

Cedric Diggory x fem!reader || 5.2k words, fluff-ish, banter and awkward confessions !

Reader and Ced are both seventh years and Ced is head boy!

Warnings: slow and sappy smut, unprotected p-in-v, clothed sex , first times !!!

Summary: Cedric finds your diary, what's the worst that could happen?

---------

Cedric was idly perusing the shelves of the library on one fine afternoon, if the wads of homework given and expected to be completed by the end of the Easter holidays were not taken into account. He sought for some books that he could use as reference for his essay in History of Magic, a particularly tricky one, on famous and historical duels.

Though, his initial intentions were long forgotten as he noticed something. His attention was drawn to a small, forgotten notebook left on one of the study tables. He looked around to see if any sign of the owner was around. Once the coast was clear, he took it as a go-signal. Carefully, he picked it up with curiosity as he examined the notebook.

The cover was brown, its material being that of leather. It had a few tears, but it looked okay enough to be passed as a choice of style. It is decorated with intricate golden patterns on it, engraved with small jewels for design. The bottom was labelled with your name handwritten on, and the pages seemed to be slightly tarnished. He assumed you had kept it for a couple years or so. 

But what was most intriguing was that it had been padlocked shut. He figured out that it was no ordinary notebook, probably a diary of sorts, piquing his interest.

As much as he knows not to stick his nose in things he is not supposed to, he couldn’t help but feel interested in what was not supposed to be of his concern. He was not going to tell anyone what’s inside, nor was he going to judge— it is not like you would know either if he did look through it. 

But, he supposed a little peak would not hurt, right? He is going to give it back the next time he sees you, anyway. 

Though, it was locked… It is nothing a simple alohomora charm could not fix. He pulled out his wand and pointed it towards the lock. He gave it a flick, chanting the spell out quietly. The padlock fell on the floor with a dull thud. He picked it up and stuffed it in his pocket, to seal it up afterwards to conceal any trace of him ever snooping around.

He flipped through the pages, becoming increasingly fascinated with what he read, some even dating back to seven years. Family issues, random stuff about life at Hogwarts, such as rants about homework, housemates and whatnot. The first thirty pages was about you mainly figuring out things back then as a first year, and a bunch of things you were astonished to discover. 

It was really what your typical teenage girl would write; little things such as that cat you tried to pet in the first year that turned out to be Professor McGonagall, hallway crushes, that time you snuck in the restricted area of the library, so on— and the mundaneness of everyday life. It was pretty much a bunch of stuff about what goes on during your days. 

When he got to the fourth year, he started seeing his name being brought up occasionally— he of course, stopped on those pages to read them— interested in what your perspective on him was. He started with the first page mentioning him:

DEAR DIARY,

I met this guy named Cedric Diggory. He’s popular, tall and good-looking too.. 

He helped me out with my herbology homework. I was really struggling, good thing he stepped in. Though, maybe I was too busy staring at him to really pay attention to what he was teaching me. (Well, who can blame me???)

I know so many girls who would kill to have that happen to them. Wonder what got me so lucky today, maybe those Lumos Lucksweets I ate last night that I got from Honeydukes during Halloween.

I always thought he was cute, though I always felt too intimidated to approach him. Hopefully we can become friends. 

He felt a bit surprised, a faint blush tainting his cheeks as he smiled softly. He would be oblivious if he didn’t know he was sought after by both women and men, albeit it still doesn’t make him any less flustered.  You were one of his friends, yes, but he had never stopped to think that you thought of him in that way. You didn’t make it obvious either.

He mostly skimmed through its pages, but stopped to read whenever he saw his name brought up– about how you talked about each of your interactions; “Cedric helped me with…” “Cedric and I went out to…” “I think I like him..” Cedric this, Cedric that. 

You like him. Or liked him. It only clicked with him now, though he would have to keep reading if he wanted to know if you still felt the same. (Because he definitely did.) Be that as it may, he still definitely had no idea on how to confess. Plus, it was too late to turn back any time now. He continued to leaf through its contents.

But it was not until he got to last year’s pages that some things really stuck out. At first it was about wanting to kiss him on the cheek as you sat beside him in the library whilst you two studied for your transfiguration exam. Then the next time you talked about it being on the lips. 

You even went into detail how you thought his lips would feel, then it was about how you so badly wanted to make out with him after you watched him after his quidditch practice because in your words, not his–

He looked so hot.

The more he read through, the material written within progressively escalated. Soon, it was about how you felt guilty by using the thought of him as a means to get off. 

Now I feel guilty. Yes, I know– it is wrong of me to finger myself at the thought of my really really really hot friend who I also happen to have a crush on, no I’m not being sarcastic, yes, it was just once. Just this ONCE, I got carried away… Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry, Cedric.

He actually found it quite adorable how you were apologising in a diary. He was also extremely flustered at this point, a little bit horny and at the same time, confused. He nonetheless continued, reading several entries about how you admitted to having several fantasies of you being fucked by Cedric, what you think he would be like in bed, yada yada yada. 

You admit throughout several logs that what was supposed to be a one-time thing, turned into nightly endeavours filled with a big ounce of shame afterwards. 

Once he felt content, he got the padlock and clicked it back in place as if nothing ever happened, and took it with him as he went on his way. He figured it was best that he give it back the next time he ran into you. 

Aside from that, his day passed by quite like any ordinary one, though he hadn’t seen you at all. On his way down to the Great Hall, he caught a glimpse of you walking whilst talking to some of your friends– though you quickly disappeared into the crowd of students flocking towards the hall for dinner.

Afterwards, most students are headed towards the library or their respective common rooms, Cedric ought to do the same. 

Meanwhile you were searching every nook and cranny of everywhere you had been within the entire day, searching for that damned diary since the afternoon. You had traced back your steps to the beginning of the day, starting off with the common rooms, the great hall, then you had snuck into the several classrooms you were in earlier. In the potions dungeon, you were almost caught by Snape, you hid in time (you pride yourself on being an absolute pro at hide and seek) and just by the skin of your teeth.

You would stop at nothing until you actually find it, the thought of someone else getting your diary sends shivers down your spine. You just hope if someone did, they’d have enough of a sense of privacy and decency not to look through it. If this keeps up, You would have to be looking throughout the entire night and without being caught at that. 

You doubt any of the staff would actually care about finding it if you had simply asked. You had tried that once when you lost one of your textbooks, you managed to find it, no thanks to anyone but yourself.  And you would think if you would ask any of your professors, they’d probably say (the textbook) was miles more important than some journal with sentimental value.

Before you knew it, you were definitely up past curfew hours. Currently in the library, you were looking everywhere– on and under each of the chairs and tables, the shelves, you were seriously considering going to check the restricted section if you were not able to find it here. Perhaps the librarian thought it was a book, too. You froze in your place as you heard footsteps other than yours echoing as someone entered the library.

–

Cedric was doing his rounds and surprisingly, tonight was not that half-bad. No pesky students loitering around, so far that is. Currently surveying the corridors, classrooms– he is now heading towards the library, hearing faint shuffling noises coming from the sound of it. So it was not a quiet night after all, he thought. He placed his bets on who he thought it was this time, and the lot of students who regularly snuck out was not much to choose from anyway.

Though, he was completely wrong this time. It was you. He flashes you a grin, nearly forgetting his duties as Head Boy to supposedly escort you back to your dorm since it was late hour. He could also give your diary back while he was at it, he was getting tired of having to cling on to it just at the chance he would run into you. But he had thought to strike up a conversation first, because why not?

“Hey,” Cedric greeted you, approaching you slowly. “Hi,” you gulped and said awkwardly. You interrupt him before he could even say a word, “I-I know what this looks like,” you stammer, figuring out the right words to say as you try reasoning with him. “It sounds like a ridiculous thing to ask of you, I know– but don’t tell anyone,” as you speak, you’re also in plenty of disbelief that the literal head boy of all people would give you leeway for sneaking out like thi. Even if he is your friend, and even if it were just once.

“And why shouldn’t I?” He said so casually, as if you two were having a normal conversation; as if he were not on patrol at all and he hadn’t caught you outside your dormitory past the given curfew. He also knew damn well why, it was just fun eliciting a reaction from you. He was of course going to eventually give it back. “It’s so late, you should at least be in your common room around this time, you know?” He points out as well.

“Well, for one, I’ve been a good student this year, this is the only time I snuck out.. And, I have a reason for sneaking out–! It’s not for anything bad, I promise, it’s just I’ve been looking for my damn diary the entire day.. I must’ve lost it somewhere– look, I swear I’ll go back to the dorms right now if you please, please, don’t tell me out to anybody.” 

You begged him, clasping your hands together for dramatic effect as you gave him those puppy eyes you use whenever you wanted something from him. (Such as when you begged him to buy whatever you wanted when you two went to Zonko’s that one time. P.S. It worked.)

“You mean this thing?” he said slyly. As he pulled out your diary, he gave a look of mischievousness. He watched as your eyebrows raise up, a look of relief plastered on your face as you sigh. You walk towards him, extending out your arms as you make grabby hands. “Oh, yes! Yes, that’s the one, now if you could just give it back–” then, that’s when you get cut off. 

“Ah, ah, now wait just a moment,” he said, raising the arm with your diary in his hand so you couldn’t reach it. “I’ll let you off, and I’ll give it back if,” taking a deep breath before he spoke again, wondering if he should really be doing this. It was now or never. “You give me a kiss.”

He found it really amusing as a blush formed on your face, completely flustered as your eyes widened in a look with a mix of shock and disbelief. You had stopped grabbing for your diary, as you opened your mouth to say something, but you were rendered completely speechless. Was this just a dream? Surely it was, it was too good to be true…

“Ha, ha. Very funny, Cedric,” you fake-laugh, your tone being fully sarcastic. Seeing if he is just playing around with you. “No way in hell I would,” you add, just in case he really was joking. (Maybe you have slight trust issues.) “Just give it back.” Despite that, he looked dead serious. He stared you down, not breaking eye contact, making you gulp nervously. “Please?”

“Oh, come on,” he says as his voice drops, sounding more sultry. “I’m not gonna do anything unless you let me, but I know you want to.” His eyes observe your lips. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t touch you at all since you hadn’t given your consent yet. He kept his hands to himself, letting his body language do the talking. 

“Now what makes you say that?” You squint your eyes as you give a questioning look at him, acting, or trying to at least, unaffected. You still had your guard up, because seriously, what was up with this guy today? 

“Now, why’re you acting like you don’t want it? Hmm?” He smirked, “Could make all those fantasies of yours in that little book come true, you know.”

You looked mortified, as if you had seen a ghost. The last bits of your dignity withered away, long gone at this point. You wanted to shrivel up and sob in a corner out of pure humiliation. He read your diary. “No way, you read it!?” You slap his arm as you cover your face in sheer embarrassment. “Privacy exists, you know–!” Cedric let out a guttural laugh, unable consistently to keep up his flirty demeanour. “Hey, better me than anyone else, right? Besides,” he leaned on one of the bookshelves.

“I like you.”

If you thought you couldn’t get any redder, you were awfully wrong. You didn’t know what to say, as you practically threw yourself at him in an embrace. “I like you too…” you said, your voice muffled as your face was buried in his chest. “This is so embarrassing.”

He wasted no time in hugging you back, his arms wrapped around you. It was like you put on a warm blanket. You two stayed like that for a while, enjoying eachothers company. The moment of silence was interrupted as he said, “I should probably ask properly.” You look up at him, waiting for what he has to say. “Will you be my girlfriend?” He finally says.

“What do you think?” A rhetorical question.

“I need a yes or no, not a ‘what do you think’.”

“If you actually read my diary, you already have your answer.”

“Well then, it’s official,” he smiles. “Can I get that kiss now?” He says impatiently. You waste no time, tipping on your toes as you press your lips against his, placing your hands on his broad shoulders. He wraps his hands around your waist, pushing you softly against a bookcase. It was chaste and passionate, as your lips intertwined as you two kissed in a slow rhythm. 

You pull away, catching your breath. “By the way, this doesn’t mean I forgive you for reading my diary,” you blurt out, Cedric chuckling at that.

Before you knew it, he was grabbing your wrist and leading you to his dorm room. It was clear to the both of you where this situation was going. As you walked together, your heart raced in anticipation, a mix of excitement and nervousness flooded your senses. You both stopped in your tracks as you reached a portrait, that of Helena Ravenclaw’s. He mumbled the password and the portrait swung open, walking in whilst ducking his head over the small entrance and motioning you to come in as well. 

You assumed this was the heads’ common room, it was circular and decorated quite lavishly. If it were not for Cedric, you would have taken more time to admire the interior. It was definitely plenty grand compared to the regular ones. Though, you quickly were grounded back into the situation as he led you to his dorm– Head Boy’s–completely away from prying eyes. Oh, bless Cedric for being head boy and whoever decided that heads should have their own room. 

He slams the door shut behind you two, pinning you to it. Tension flooded the room, it was practically suffocating. He wastes no time, cupping your chin as he tilts your head slightly upward to make you look at him. He leaned in for a second kiss, your lips puzzle together once more. His hand interlocked with yours tightly as he held it up against the door panel, keeping you in place. 

It was not as innocent as it was the first time, in fact quite the opposite– amorous. It was far from perfect, given both of you were not experienced. All your knowledge came from things such as muggle films, you think.

You remembered how they opened their mouths slightly, imitating what you saw in fiction. You slowly gaped open your mouth, Cedric immediately getting the hint as he slid his tongue inside. You both attempted to swirl each other's tongues together, yet it was more clashing your tongues together with no rhythm whatsoever, in hoping something just works. Though it didn't make it any less hot, if anything, it was more.

It was awfully sappier than one would might like, but you two were both (not-so hopeless anymore) romantics. Perhaps it was the entire three years of obliviousness and pining for each other being poured into this moment. Though, given what you two are about to do, it is a bit fast for an official relationship. Well, yeah, as much as you just got together.. You both couldn’t help it nor wait anymore, not wanting to waste any more time, not after so many years with your feelings going unsaid. 

He took heavier breaths, grabbing ahold of your waist as he pressed himself closer against you. You both flushed, a bit embarrassed and nervousness surging through your veins as you gasped when his half-chubbed dick pressed against just above your groin. You couldn’t deny– you felt scared, a bit hesitant but you knew you wanted this more than anything. 

While you still kissed, you both toed off your shoes and made a beeline for the bed (a sad attempt). Because your senses of navigation clearly dwindled, not a care in the world but each other. You two accidentally bumped into one of the small tables, knocking down some of the books that lay on them. “Oops,” Cedric said lightheartedly. Pulling the both of you out of the moment momentarily, you two laughed and just chalked it up to fixing it later.

Finally reaching the four-poster (which was a lot bigger than the regular ones), even if it were a few feet away from where you two initially were, it was quite the journey. Cedric, who was the one leading out of the two of you, practically tripped you both into bed as he rested atop you. “Ced!” You squealed, “you’re crushing me!” light-heartedly, you say, as you jab at his chest playfully, in an attempt to push him off. 

“Well..not my problem, princess,” he laughed as he buried his face into your neck. Sucking and nipping at the flesh, leaving red marks on you as he placed a kiss on each one to seal them afterwards. “May I…?” He says, his hand trailing up to grab onto the hem of your tie, ready to pull it off. You give him a small, silent nod. He takes his time with you, as if he were unwrapping a huge present. 

He begins by pulling off your tie, discarding the article of clothing to a random corner of the room. The same goes for your robes, sweater, dress shirt…all long gone and forgotten. You were merely left with your undergarments and skirt on, as well as your socks. He stops dead in his tracks, taking a step back as he takes the sight of you in.

“I forgot to tell you how beautiful you are.” He says each word clear as day– you’ve never heard anyone more confident in your life. You blush profusely, hands covering your face to conceal it. “I’ll die from those compliments before you actually start doing anything, you know?” You babble, too florid to think of words to form. 

He trails his hand, leading it down to your underwear, tugging down at the hem of it as to pull them off. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, though not a hint of apology in his voice. You mutter something about him not being forgiven, ouch, so now he has two things he is yet to be forgiven for. He just smiles innocently back at you, lips all pouty as you pretend to sulk about it. (Obviously jokingly) When in fact, you wallow in the praise.

He leans into your ear as his hands now teasing at your folds, you let out a soft moan at his touch. “Guess I’ll have to make it up to you, huh?” He says in a low, gravelly voice. Which had absolutely no right to sound that hot. “Please, Ced,” you say, trying not to sound like you were begging for it. “Wait,” he stops, getting up and begins to rummage through his drawer, looking for something. You look at him quizzically, wondering what he is doing and looking slightly disappointed at the loss of sensation.

After a few more seconds, he pulls out a small vial of a clear flaxen liquid and examines it before walking back to you. “Um, I’m really sorry, d’you think this’ll do?” He shows you the vial, which you had assumed to be a natural oil of sorts. “I, er, don’t have any lube.” He says awkwardly. “I mean, if you’re not comfortable we don’t have to–” You cut him off immediately, quickly divulging that, “No, no, we– we can. I’m fine with it.” Okay, you definitely sounded a bit desperate. He nods, uncorking the vial as he coats his fingers with a fair amount.

“I’ve never done this before,” he says, prodding two fingers at your pussy. “Just– just tell me if it hurts, okay? Tap my shoulder two times if you can’t speak.” You nod, and with that, he eases in slowly his fingers, your breath hitching as you feel his fingers slip inside you. It feels uncomfortable, causing you to shift in your position slightly. Cedric quickly stops inching his fingers inside as he asks if you’re okay. You tell him that you’re fine and to keep going, assuring yourself and him that it is normal. Hopefully you’ll get used to the feeling. 

He continues, eventually now fully inside you. “Let me know when, um, I can move them, okay?” He says caringly, not an inch of attention wavering away from you. After a bit, you give him the go-signal to move and he starts dragging his fingers out of you, albeit slowly, and pushing them back inside. He watches you attentively, carefully studying your expressions, your body language– His erection was straining against his pants at this point, begging to be freed, but of course he wanted to make sure you were thoroughly prepared. 

“Ah, Ced, mhh, maybe if you curl your fingers a–ah bit–” you moan, still feeling a slight discomfort and pain, though pleasure slowly seeps through. “Like this?” He says, as he curls his fingers inside you, moving in and out with languid strokes. You let out a particular wince, though you nodded in approval. “Yes, just like that– ah,”

It was not anything you were not used to, though you always felt guilty whenever you did such things to yourself. Especially if your only barrier to privacy is the curtains on your four-poster. Though it took a bit of adjusting, because Cedric’s fingers were no doubt bigger than yours. You feel your stomach curling, the feeling of release catching on to you. Cedric must have had a sixth sense, or really good observational skills (perhaps all that astronomy paid off.) because he pulled his fingers out of you the moment you were about to. You whine instinctively in response.

Before you knew it, he was getting rid of his sweater, taking off his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt, tossing the apparel in the same corner where your clothes went, though leaving his unbuttoned shirt on. You watched his every movement intently, feeling yourself getting wet at the sight of him undressing. He is tall, lean, and burly– has a good build from all that quidditch. Amen for that. 

Your eyes begin to linger down to his trousers, and a very obvious bulge that you can’t help but stare at. He continues by unzipping his fly, though not pulling down his pants. He tugged at his grey boxers just enough to release his cock from its confines, coating it with a light layer of the oil he had used earlier. You could not help but stare, your pupils dilated, clouding your eyes darkly with arousal. He crawls in between your legs as he now hovers atop you. He aligned his cock, tip pressing into the folds of your pussy. 

“M’nervous,” you mumble, almost nonsensically, though Cedric understood what you had tried to say. He leans in, placing a kiss on your forehead as he gently caresses your cheek, “If you’re feeling pressured, we don’t have to, y’know. We can just… Stop here, we can continue another time if you’d like, when you’re ready.” He says softly, warmth naturally oozing through his voice like honey, sweet and assuring. 

“No,” you say, quiet but firmly. “I want to.” 

“Then we will, just tell me when you’re ready. I’ll be gentle.” He says, and his words make all your worries slowly ebb away. You feel safe with Cedric. You press your hips down onto his dick ever so slightly, letting the tip slide in. You gasp at the foreign feeling, nervous to fully take it all in. He notices, and as well lets out a soft moan, asking if he has permission to continue. You breathily say a yes, and that’s when he unhurriedly starts to push inside you.

It feels completely new, slightly painful with a twinge of pleasure. You shut your eyes, wincing at the sensation. Cedric examines your expressions as he inches in, checking for any signs of discomfort. He stops for a moment to ask if you’re okay, noticing your brows knitting together with your eyes shut. You assure him you’re fine, and tell him to keep going.

Eventually, he bottoms out inside you, though he doesn’t move immediately. You two just sit there for a good minute or two, kissing softly as your lips move in unison. Pulling away, panting as you say, “m-move, please,”

And who is Cedric to deny you of that? He began moving his hips slowly and shallowly, not wanting you to take too much at once. You also started getting a bit used to the feeling, though it was still mostly new to you. It didn’t feel as painful as it did, moaning in pleasure as he moved his hips. 

He then pulled out his cock, teasing you, and easing back in steadily, causing you to moan wantonly out loud. His thrusts still slow, but begin to get deeper as he holds your legs open. He was vocal too, nothing short of chanting your name and praising you in a gravelly voice, groaning and grunting ruggedly as he fucked his cock far into you. 

“You’re such a good girl f’me,” he pants, both of you moaning as he rocked his dick back into you with a particularly deep thrust. While the discomfort still remained, you grew more accustomed to the feeling of gratification that grew increasingly.“Ha– ah, harder, Ced,” you say, gasping in between your words. He did nothing shy of it, but not anything that he felt like would be too much for you.

“Merlin, y’feel so good,” he says huskily, moving his hips rhythmically slow, hard and deep as you’re reduced into a moaning mess. Your arms flail to the side of your head, grasping on the sheets as you arch your back. You were mumbling nonsensically, and Cedric laughed breathily as he told you how cute you were. He could only barely make out what seemed to be an I love you. “I love you too, princess,” he groans as he leans in and leaves a few more marks on your collarbone and neck.

You splay your hands onto his back. Digging your nails into his skin, leaving marks of your own though unintentionally. You drag your nails down his broad back, grabbing onto him as he knocks the wind out of you with each thrust.

You feel a fire pooling low in your abdomen, as well as the heightening sense of arousal as Cedric kept thrusting inside you. You feel your pussy tighten around him, “Mmh, Ced, I think I’m gonna–!” You squeal, Cedric grabs your hips and quickened his pace by a bit. “Go on, sweetheart.” He says low, letting his breath into your ear, moving down to kiss your neck. Reaching your limit, you feel your orgasm ripple through you.

Cedric kept going, though you could tell he was close, too– his thrusts growing sloppy as the echo of skin to skin and moans  from the both of you filled the room. His hips jerked a few more times as he finally sheathed fully and deep into you, as you two let out a long, drawn out moan as he was spilling his load inside your pussy. 

Clenching around his cock greedily, it’s as if you were going to wring him dry. You feel the way his cock pulses as he cums in you, a white ring pooling around the base of his cock with your mixed juices as it trickles down your folds. 

He collapses atop you, letting his head rest between your breasts as he’s still inside you. You two lay like that for a while, basking in the silence of the afterglow. You suddenly interrupt as you say, “Okay, maybe I forgive you..” 

He smiles and scoffs at that. Eventually, he pulls out and lays beside you, cuddling you from behind as you two exchange ‘I love you’s’ as you two drift off into sleep.

[a018233]

ೀ Identity v men with a s/o that sleeps naked.

Characters: , Eli Clark, Norton Campbell, Naib Subedar. Edgar Valden

content warnings: gn!reader, mostly sfw. Not really yandere, but can be read as one. Established relationships. Cockwarming in Norton's but it's not really sexual.

A/N: almost at 100 followers so I kinda wanna do a special. Someone should commission me and I'll write you whatever you want, give me sanrio photographer or buffy and my life is yours‼️‼️

Eli was surprised after finding out, he's a little traditional and modest when it came to clothes, but oddly enough, he wasn't against it. Eli can't help but think it's a little cute and endearing, though. Mainly because he thinks he's at the point of your relationship where you're comfortable doing 'weird' things with him. His biggest concern is you catching a cold. Eli prefers to keep his sleepwear on, so he won't join you in sleeping naked. Though, maybe on a hot summer night, he'd strip down to his boxers just so he can spoon you comfortably without overheating the both of you. Eli likes having you relying on him whether you realize it or not, so he prefers to stay up until you've fallen asleep so he can cover you with a blanket, it's more an act of love and reassurance that you won't accidentally catch a cold.

After you started doing it, It didn't take Norton too long to follow. He likes the close intimacy he gets from cuddling nude with you. Norton is aware he's high maintenance as a lover, to him, it's total reassurance that he's the only one for you. Reassurance that you love and trust him no matter what. The type of intimacy only he and he alone can have with you. It gives him a little pep in his step the next day. It's something looks forward to each night. He looks forward to your shared nightly routine just as much as waking up with you. I'd think at some point you two decide to kick it up a notch with cockwarming, something to keep you two locked in place together. He finds nothing as relaxing than burying himself nice and deep inside you while his arms keep you in a tight embrace.

Naib already likes sleeping in his boxers, so he doesn't really have a reaction. At least, that's what you think when you go under the covers on your shared bed. He's internally questioning himself. Is it okay to hold you? Where does he even put his hands without it being weird? Is he even allowed to look? For the first couple nights, he doesn't hold you like he usually does. But after a while, he gets used to it. Although, he won't join you in going full comando unless he just got out of the shower and dried himself fully, but he's keeping his boxers on when it comes to sleep. Naib isn't one for opening up or heart to heart conversations but having your head against his chest, and your limbs entangled with his provides comfort for him. He's a mercenary, someone who has killed for his own benefit. So it's complete solace when you ramble in a sleepy voice about your day knowing you trust him wholeheartedly.

Edgar can't help but scoff when you join him nude under the covers, he's seen your nude form before. You're his lover and muse, of course he'd seen every inch of you. As much as you're breathtaking, he's annoyed. He bought you a whole collection of all sorts of sleepwear made from the most richest material money can buy. Only the best for his lover, he can't have his muse wearing cheap clothing. Linen, silk, cotton, satin, and chiffon. With all sorts of designs he commissioned personally. Tailored to your exact size, some with your favorite colour's, colour's that match you. He even made sure the fabrics were light and breathable, and yet you choose to sleep naked? When the initial annoyance settles, he begins to feel a little flustered, yes he's seen you naked before, he has done full body portraits of you. But somehow this feels different. He can't explain why, but it feels more intimate than any canvas he's painted of you. Now, to him, it cements your love for him. That in the dead of the night, that you aren't his muse right now. But his lover. The one you love the most.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I know that Yuu is gender neutral in the game for many reasons so it makes me wonder if Yuu was a girl in Conan would that change the dialogues and the way the characters interact with her?

Like not a major change to the main story or turning the game into otome but some small ones like in some characters interaction with Leona when stepping on his tail he won't want to beat us (because of the respect woman thing lol) in book one or Deuce being shy in the beginning of their friendship.

Hmm... For the most part, I honestly don't really think so? Cater still calls Yuu cute, Azul is still pretty polite, etc. Rook still waxes poetic and creepily recites your sizes, etc. regardless of gender. At best, maybe some of those traits would be exaggerated a little more or expanded on to suit the scenario?? Like maybe Ace would initially tease fem!Yuu about being at an all-boys school or something, isn't she bothered by it? But I really doubt that anyone would be tripping over themselves to protect or befriend fem!Yuu or anything, especially when most at NRC are primarily concerned with their own interests. Most of the characters aren't noted to treat women particularly differently than other genders. We also don't get to see the NRC students interacting with girls around their age either, so it's hard to discern how they'd be with them. I think even the "Deuce being shy in the beginning of the friendship" headcanon comes from a perspective colored by writings in fandom; Deuce in canon doesn't really seem to demonstrate major issues interacting with girls, at least not that I can recall. At best, he expresses surprise when Grim mistakes Epel for a girl and fails to romance the Ghost Bride (he freezes up and his mind blanks; it’s difficult to say this is how he’d act around most women or if he just acts this way due to the demands of the situation). Deuce does mention in Ace’s Suitor Suit vignettes that he mainly interacts with his mom, as most girls—and guys—would run away from him due to how intimidating he was. He says he gets nervous about hurting girls’ feelings, though this is in reference to faking a proposal and not romance or interactions in general. I think if we eliminated romantic interest altogether--because, to be clear, one girl in a cast of mainly guys is NOT always meant to be romantic or a harem--most of the cast would be their usual selves, if not maybe a little more polite due to how they’ve been socialized to see women as the “fairer” sex. For example, Riddle, Epel, and Jade underestimate Sally, though this isn’t clear if it’s gender-based or because they sympathize with her poor home life. They may also be instances of the guys not really knowing how to deal with girls? For example, Trey fails to help Sally up after she has fallen (which Sebek chastises him for); Trey later admits that he doesn't know many women beyond his mother and sister who is 4 years younger than him. Because of this, he says it may be that he was subconsciously nervous to interact with her.

The exception to this, many would point out, is Leona, who comes from a country in which women are respected. The strange thing is, whenever this point is mentioned, I always see people speaking about it in relation to Leona and Leona only, even though Ruggie and Rook also come from the Sunset Savanna (so technically those latter two would also theoretically be respectful to women). Now, there's a lot of discussion in the fandom about just how far Leona's "feminism" (a term used by fandom, never said in official materials) stretches. The most extreme of takes paint Leona as a misandrist who actively hates on or mistreats men while upholding women as superiors. And that... Well, I don't agree with this interpretation whatsoever. Yes, Leona no doubt respects women and is more likely to listen to them if they ask him to do something (for example, attending a party for a female painting in Cater's School Uniform vignette or taking a picture of himself in his robes for his sister-in-law in his own Ceremonial Robes vignettes). However, he won't just keel over and do whatever is asked of him simply because it is coming from a woman (think back to Ghost Marriage; he was still pretty pissed off when Eliza slapped him), and nor is he shown to disparage his own gender.

Rather than putting women on a pedestal, I think it would be more accurate to say that Leona doesn't underestimate women or think lesser of them because of their gender. (If you're interested my detailed breakdown of "feminist" Leona, check out this analysis.) For example, while his classmates worry for Sally's wellbeing in Lost in the Book with Nightmare Before Christmas, Leona lauds Sally's cunning and ability to save herself. We also get a pretty good look of this in the Episode of Savanaclaw manga, which features a female Yuu. (And before anyone says, "Yuuka could be hiding the fact she's a girl!", take a look at these panels. She is clearly not making an effort to hide her chest and given her nonchalant personality + ability to physically defend herself, Yuuka has no in-universe reason to be hiding her gender. The other students probably don’t bring up that she’s a girl because she’s already been around at NRC for roughly a month at this point and have likely acclimated to her presence. Besides, people don’t normally bring up “well, that’s a girl” out of the blue in everyday conversations.)

Riddle seems to treat Yuuka the same as the gender-neutral Yuu in the game; he still adjusts her tie for her without any flourishes, flinching, etc.

If you read the Episode of Savanaclaw altogether, pretty much all of the characters treat Yuuka like another fellow student and not "oh, this is a woman and a woman has to be treated differently".

Leona stops Savanaclaw mobs from beating up Yuuka and co., but this isn't significant because he does the same for gender-neutral Yuu in the game. It's not "I stopped the guys from hurting a woman" behavior. And get this: Leona still challenges Yuuka and co. to a magift/spelldrive game and he STILL kicks their asses and expects them to get up for more. He doesn't give even Yuuka special treatment or leniency because she is a woman. He wants her to play him again, the same as the other students (who are all guys). It is Jack who has to intervene and stop his dorm leader from bullying Yuuka and co.—but again, this isn’t a change from the game, as Jack always steps in anyway.

Yuuka recognizes Leona as "the garden caretaker" from back when she accidentally stepped on his tail. Unfortunately, we don't get to see if Leona attempted to attack her from this instance. It could be that the manga excluded it because he didn't try or it could be that he did (if the magift/spelldrive demands were of any indication) and the manga just didn't have time to show it in full. Buuut we should also note that Leona makes exceptions to his own... "moral code" when it is convenient for him. For example, he tells his students to not pick on outsiders but then still wails on us through sport. When Yuu steps on his tail in the garden, he says, "Well, can't say it'd be much fun to hurt someone so helpless," but then adds, "Still gonna do it, though."

My point is, this is the closest we'll get to "how would the boys treat a fem!Yuu", and that's what I'll leave you with.

[kanalynn]

Senku x teen scientist! reader headcanons

characters: Senku Ishigami

author's note:

• English is NOT my first language;

• May contain OOC;

• Do not copy or steal my works !!

• I didn't try very hard when I wrote this - and I wrote it in a short time, so it's probably very bad

timeline: pre-petrification

• Senku first meets [Name] during his trip to Africa - to his own surprise, he is not the only teenager interested in science who can afford something like that. At first, this girl hardly attracted his attention - he only noted her talkative nature - but very soon he got to know her better.

• [Name] was a young prodigy scientist like him, but she mainly specialized in biology, chemistry and medicine, so she went to Africa to study Ebola - and she was very enthusiastic when it came to science - it was obvious to the naked eye. Senku senses that she may be very similar to him - and their first conversation takes place.

• Senku was not wrong - of course, Senku was never wrong. The way [Name]'s eyes lit up when she told him about the virus she came here to study, the way she looked around with greedy interest, noticing everything that could be nearby, the way she told him incredible facts about the environment - all this showed that she truly lives science, just like Senku himself.

• He immediately gained respect for her - as she did for him - and that's how it all begins.

• From there, their friendship grows stronger. Senku truly appreciates [Name]'s scientific knowledge and amazing abilities, but at the same time, he quickly gets used to the cheerful, energetic, non-scientific side of her character.

• They often spend time together in the lab or on expeditions, doing all sorts of scientific things. At that time, Senku had to try on the role of not a scientist conducting an experiment, but his assistant for the first time - after all, he is not as good at medicine and pharmaceuticals as [Name].

• It was [Name] who taught him how to make antibiotics. Of course, they made them in a modern laboratory, not in the stone world, but the girl also explained quite clearly how to get all the materials in nature.

• They most often communicate with each other in English, but in their free time, Senku teaches [Name] Japanese, and she teaches him her native language (if English is not her native language, of course).

• Probably, the idea to try lion meat belonged to [Name]. By the way, she herself did not like it, but she ate it to the end (she and Senku made a bet, he did not think that she would really do it).

• One day, [Name] tells Senku that when she leaves Africa, she will continue to travel around the world and study it until she settles down somewhere to officially become a doctor. Senku, half-jokingly, invites her to his home country - but who knows, maybe she will really go to Japan?

• When the time comes to leave Africa, Senku is upset about the upcoming separation from [Name], but not so much - after all, they will still keep in touch and write to each other. The girl herself, unlike him, can't hold back her emotions and makes a farewell scene - Senku considered it unnecessary, but when she cried and crawled to hug him, he did not push her away.

• So, they parted.

• Some time later, when a new school year begins in Japan and Senku is in his first year of high school, he receives a new message from [Name] - she has finally come to Japan!

• The girl promised to meet Senku as soon as possible - but only when she has figured out the train system and got used to the new school - that's what they decided, but it turned out that the meeting was closer than they expected.

❛❛ Nice to meet you! My name is [Name] [Last Name], I'm an exchange student from [country], and I'll be studying with you- ❞

❛❛ [Name]?! ❞

❛❛ S-senku?! ❞

• Senku definitely didn't expect [Name] to suddenly become his classmate, and from her reaction, he could tell that she didn't expect it either. The chances of such a coincidence were incredibly small, but not impossible.

• Despite this, he was glad, really. Even in his wildest dreams, he couldn't have imagined that he would end up going to school with [Name] and seeing her every day. It had been a long time since their expedition to Africa, and he had already missed her, her cheerful nature, and the scientific discussions they had with her.

• There was another thing: Taiju and Yuzuriha hadn't met her yet - as soon as Senku remembered this, he almost immediately introduced her to his friends as a fellow scientist. Since they were all very open and kind people, they got along very quickly: he and Yuzuriha even became best friends.

• [Name] is just as smart and interested in science as Senku, so it's no surprise that she becomes one of the best students in the school. There is some rivalry between her and Senku, but it's apparently not that serious - they just want to see who's smarter in areas unrelated to science.

• Eventually, Senku invites [Name] to join his Science Club as vice-president, to which she, of course, agrees. The club members treat her with respect, looking up to her and Senku - after all, two teenage prodigies who have been on expeditions before can't help but be impressive.

• [Name] is very, very interested in the culture of Senku's home country, and so often asks him to show her around or take her to festivals. Senku doesn't understand her enthusiasm and often grumbles when the conversation turns to a certain place [Name] wants to go, but he always accompanies her anyway.

• They apparently even went to Senku's favorite ramen restaurant together once, which he often went to with his father. Senku has been known there for a long time, so you can imagine the uproar that ensued when he showed up there with a girl. Of course, everyone assumed they were on a date - but [Name] didn't bother to correct them.

• When the swallows turn into stone, [Name] is just as excited as Senku. At one point, she even contacts her biologist friends at NASA to report the find. After that, she and Senku begin a series of experiments to determine whether the swallows are alive or not - and that's when the petrification happens.

• The green light that enveloped the entire land was clearly not what anyone expected. Before she turned to stone, [Name] only managed to whisper something to Senku, eyes wide in shock. Now she is trapped in her own mind for many centuries, desperately trying not to pass out, thinking about her family, friends, and Senku.

[zoppa682]

For any nonhumans struggling with species dysphoria, I want to help you all as much as I can. I've been experiencing it all week. It can be quite exhausting and put you in a lot of distress, in my case. X(

Here are some tips I'd recommend to help:

1. Mimic the diet of your kintype/theriotype. You are a shark? Eat seafood. A dragon? Maybe try to burn some food a little (or turn it black like my own preference if you want). You kin a character from [Insert source]? Try recreating foods/dishes from their world or dimension.

2. Listen to relatable music. I'd recommend making a playlist of any songs that feel species affirming/euphoric, or even echo that dysphoria further, therefore turning it relatable. (Few of my favorites are Bones by Imagine Dragons, Control by Halsey, Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land by MARINA, Momento Mori by Fish in a Birdcage, among other songs that feel therian coded to me).

3. Do vocals. Howling, barking, screeching, or roaring are very relieving if you are in the correct space to do them! If you are in a quite space or do not want to out yourself to anyone, try purring, growling, hissing, or other unnoticeable sounds. You have an object kintype? Mimic the sounds of the object, like beeping, clicking, etc. (I personally make microwave sounds just because it is fun). Recite voice lines of your kintype from the source they are in. Mimic their voice and volume to match.

4. Move and physically act like your kintype/theriotype. Quadrobics, mimic the flapping of wings, walk bidepedally, whatever you do, turn your mannerisms and motion to reflect your kintype/theriotype.

5. Dress like your kintype/theriotype. Is your kintype a character? Cosplay them, or mimic their clothing style, clothing color, hairstyle, etc. If they have tattoos, scars, or patterns on their body, copy them on your physical form with paint or pens. (PLEASE USE NON TOXIC MATERIALS. STUFF SAFE FOR YOUR HUMAN SKIN.) Are you a species of animal(s)? Dress in your species' colors, or, once again, paint or color yourself like it/them. Are you perhaps any other form of creature or object? You can use the same tips as the others, and another idea that works for all is that you can buy costume pieces of your kintype/theriotype. Masks, headbands, just normal clothing in general, the options really are infinite.

6. Express your dysphoria through artwork. I love doing art when I am heavily species dysphoric. Drawing, crafting masks, origami, painting, collages, all are forms of art. If you are skilled in music, then you could even create some songs of your own!

7. Go out and explore nature. This one is mainly targeted towards therians, whose types are grounded on the life on earth rather than other dimensions or universes, but just like the other methods, it can be universally used by any types of nonhumans. Collecting things is my favorite way of exploring nature. Collect rocks, shells, sticks, leaves, bugs, plants, anything that makes you feel more comfortable in your own (unfortunate) physical body. Stay grounded in the world around you and you may find the dysphoria slips away. Hiking and going on short walks can also help, building a den, smelling the scents of the outdoors. All great ideas that I personally recommend.

8. Write about your feelings. Whether you are good at expressing yourself through poetry, you keep a diary/journal, or you can project onto OCs for new backstory lore like I do, writing can truly help with any dysphoria. Not only that, but it is sometimes refreshing to come back later and read about what you were feeling before. It can serve as a great reminder that you are a powerful being and you will always overcome the feelings if you try.

9. Research about your kintype/theriotype. It does not matter if you are an animal, concept, or object from earth, a being from fantasy, or a character from the greatest book or show, you learn something new every day. So why not learn about yourself? Read books or watch animal documentaries of your theriotype(s), same thing for you otherkins and your fantasy species. Fictionkins can look up facts about themself as a character, their book, show, game, etc.

10. Talk and interact with other alterhumans/nonhumans. Remember, we are a community, and while you are experiencing horrible episodes of species dysphoria, there are many other beings going through the exact same thing at the exact same time. So why not talk to them about it? Share your experiences, help eachother cope, you may even connect with more individuals that way, building more relationships with others and meeting new beings.

11. Past life meditation. If you are a nonhuman who has a past life/lives, you may find comfort in meditation, where you can truly tap into what you once were, and still are in this life as well. Look to the forgotten, and turn in to remembered. Open up your past and live over again.

12. Listen to sounds. Nature sounds, voices of other characters you know from your world, vocals or sound effects of your kintype. These are all good options to turn to if you want to feel at ease with yourself.

13. Let your emotions out. Sometimes this is all you really need to do when species dysphoria hits hard. Cry, bite things, claw at pillows, LET IT OUT. There is absolutely no problem in being yourself and expressing your heavy emotions in your own, unique, nonhuman way. You may find you feel much better after.

That's all I've got, but I hope whoever/whatever reads this far has an amazing day/night. You are an amazing being, thank you for embracing yourself and living authentically. <3

[the---hermit]

how I take notes on non fiction books

I recently made a post on my study method, and decided to make a whole separate post on my note taking method. The structure of the notes I write doesn't vary too much from my lecture notes to things I might have to read. A couple of useful informations you might want to know before I start actually talking about note writing is that I am mainly focused on studying history (tho I have had other humanities exams in my degrees), and that I study for oral exams in which the material is mainly composed of non fiction books, but sometimes include articles as well as lecture notes. Somehow I have also failed to mention that I am speaking about HANDWRITTEN NOTES. I only do handwritten notes, I don't work well digitally, so keep that in mind. And with this being said brace yourselves for a very long post. The bullet points I will be making are not really in a specific order and I will be including a few pictures too.

The first step when I am working on the materials for an exam is to figure out in which order I will be reading (and writing notes) the books. This hasn't really much to do with the notes themselves, but it's important to know which of your materials is more general and what other things go more in depth, so that you don't struggle too much while studying. Another plan related thing I always do is to write down each chapter of the book I have to study on my bullet journal and how many pages it is so I can plan my studying more comfortably. If the chapters are very long, and divided in subchapters I sometimes also write those down.

The goal of the notes I write is to fully take the place of the book, so they tend to be very detailed and long. I do this because the very act of writing is part of my study method, and working on things I have written down in my own words is just much better for the type of learner I am. So basically I read the book only once, then it goes back on the shelf and I work exclusively on the notes. This means my notes need to be detailed and well organized.

My method is to read a chapter, underlining important stuff as I am reading, and then right after I am done reading I work on the notes for that chapter before moving onto the next. I do this because it makes the note writing more effortless, I am fresh with informations I just read and I basically just need to skim over what I have underlined.

On underlining, since it is so important. I underline everything I will be including in my notes, it might seem much as sometimes it consists of full paragraphs, instead of key words. But this is okay because my notes I don't just copy and paste.

To create useful notes you need to be re-elaborating the informations. You need to read, understand what you read, and be able to write it down using your own words. That way the notes will be easier to review, they will often be composed of shorter sentences, and by doing so you are also actively making writing part of your studying and not just a mindless activity.

Personally I don't work well with full pages summaries, I need the text to be visually broken into sentences/small paragraphs, and I use a lot of symbols as well as abbreviations.

Symbols and abbreviations are in a way part of your very own language when you are writing notes, you tend to develop these with time, but they are so useful. I personally use different types of arrows, all caps words, position of the text in the page, different methods of highlighting and abbreviations (usually for words that come up often like country names, for example Italy becomes ita, France becomes fr, etc.).

Your notes need to be useful for you, they don't have to necessarily be comprehensible for another person (which means you can and will fuck up sentence structure because sometimes skipping a couple of words makes the notes shorter and still understandable), and they do not have to be pretty. They should be as tidy as possible, but again that might change from person to person, I have some very messy looking notes that make total sense to me. With time you'll learn what works best for you.

I have a visual memory so as I mentioned titles, highlighters, all caps, the placement on the page and other similar things are very important in my notes. I cannot fully exapain some of these things because some definitely only make sense to me in the moment (like the words I choose to write in all caps, or the way I highlight things).

I like to have a clear chapter and subchapter break (so that in case I need to refer back to the book it's super effortless). I like to write those with a red pen, usually the chapter title is in all caps and the subchapter in coursive, but it really depends.

I use only two highlighters in each set of notes yellow for dates, and the colour I associate with the book/the subject of the book (I have synesthesia I don't make the rules when it comes to colours). This of course might change depending your preferences and on the element of your notes you want to focus on. I like to have spacific colour for dates and time periods, because of course while studying history that is a fundamental element. If you are focusing on other subjects you might want to have a specific colour for names, or other elements.

I like to leave a big side margin to add either key words (especially in lecture notes since they might be messier and jump around informations more often), or additional information in a second time (sometimes it happens, after you read another book, or attended a particular lecture you have to add a couple of sentences and I rather have a blank space that never gets used rather than no space at all for emergencies).

I honestly mentioned everything that came to mind right away, but since note writing is now basically a mindless skill I have been practicing for years I surely forgot about something. I might end up adding to this post in the future or write another one. My note-writing method has also changed a lot thought the years from high school to university, it's a skill I have been perfecting for the past decade. This to say that depending on what you are working on things might change, and by experimenting with different things you might find out things that work very well for you. If you have any questions on specific things I didn't mention or that wen't clear my inbox is always open and I am more than happy to help.

Since this post is already very very long I am adding the pictures below the cut

Example of a page of notes before and after highlighting

Example of symbols and structure of the notes and the way I highlight things (in which you'll hopefully be able to understand my handwriting, and in which there might be some spelling errors but alas that often happens in my real notes as well so if there are any it's for the sake of accuracy lmao). If I end up adding informations on the margins I always use a pen of a different color so I can tell which informations I got from what source (ex. main notes from lecture, colorful notes from additional article).

Example of messier notes in which the main text in black are the notes I took during lectures and the additional colorful text was added while writing the materials (I rarely do this, it usually happens when the lectures follow a book precisely, which happens when we have to study books or summaries written by the professor). As you can see I often use post it notes to add more writing space, and sometime I even use them to create visually separated sections. If I end up adding some drawings I also usually like to have them on post it notes so they stand out more (and if you are wondering why the hell would an history student need drawings it's usually either because I need a map or a region/state to mark things out, or when studying for archaeology exams I often needed visual references, for example to identify different types of vases or decorations).

[gghostwriter]

Can I request a Lil fluff with the team (mainly Spence) where the reader had a massive potty mouth (like they're from a country that isn't so harsh about swearing, England, Australia, New Zealand?) But she's all very professional when need be but when talking with the team she's cursing up a storm (maybe the terms "good cunt" and "shit cunt" turn up?

Good cunt means someones great, amazing

Shit cunt meaning well someone's bad) and Spence gets anxious but she reassures him that she's not swearing AT him but more making sure her words hit to where they need to go?

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader Trope: Friends who Flirt (?) ; Fluff just fluff! w.c: 0.9k Warning: CM violence; citizenship inaccuracies idk A/N: Apologies again that this took a while! I am not from Australia so I had to search up some more slangs to use for this. I hope I did it justice and I had fun writing this, Anon! Thank you for requesting 💗 Main masterlist

Down Under. // Spencer Reid

It wasn’t your fault the Americans didn’t have ‘swearing’ programmed in their DNA. It was although your fault why you ended up in the FBI—receiving looks and eyebrow raises from the team—rather than in a bustling city of your homegrown country in the southern hemisphere, Australia. 

But you really couldn’t blame yourself now could you? The idea of giving up your citizenship to be a part of the illustrious BAU was too good to pass up. So you packed your bags, entered the FBI Academy, and passed with flying colors—nearing perfect that David Rossi pulled ranks just to get you in the team even with how green you still were. 

“So what do we have?” you asked, rounding into the conference room with Spencer in tow. 

“Sadly, my precious koala, we have murder,” Penelope answered with the remote in her hand, flashing the photographs of numerous mutilated bodies. “Jacksonville, Florida reported a series of killings over the past month and it’s not looking pretty. Each victim had been dumped in alley ways and all missing a toe.” 

JJ slightly reeled back. “Well, that’s a new type of trophy.” 

“It’s not very common,” Spencer backed up. “Jerome Brudos, ‘the Shoe Fetish Slayer’ is the only known serial killer that kept a foot trophy from his first victim. He was only named as such because of his disturbing foot fetish and collection of women’s shoe catalogs that he considered as pornographic material.” 

“Ah a shit cunt,” you remarked, making Spencer shift on his seat to look at you with inquiry. 

“Y/N,” Emily warned. “Alright, wheels up in thirty.” 

———

The case file was too thin for the team’s liking. How was it that a serial killer with five, possibly six, victims under his belt only had a couple of pages on it and with incomplete identifications and no missing or initial reports done. 

“Emily, is this it?” Luke waved the slim folder up in the air. “I mean, I know the victims were all homeless but damn. Did they even walk and ask around?” 

She sighed. “I called it in and the only reason we were invited is due to the upcoming elections.” 

“Bogan coppers are they? Why doesn’t that surprise me at the least,” you scoffed

“Matt and Luke, you’ll visit the last location of the body—” Emily instructed before turning to the rest of the team. “JJ, coordinate with the media to get them to cooperate. Y/N and Reid, talk to the forensics. Rossi and I will settle base at the station.” 

A series of hums and agreements echoed throughout the compact jet before settling into a lull. 

Spencer shifted on his seat, turning to face you who was busy shifting through the papers. “Hey, in the office you—“ he cleared his throat. “said a phrase, what did it mean?” 

You turned slightly, noting his nervous gaze. “You mean ‘shit cunt’?” 

He nodded. 

“It means someone bad, low life, scum of the earth—wait, you don’t think I meant you, right?” 

“What—no, no!” He sighed, having spied your raised eyebrow. “Well, maybe? I didn’t know what it meant so I don’t know.” 

You giggled. “Spence, if I was going to describe you it would be—pardon my French, good cunt.” 

“For someone so tiny, you sure do curse a lot,” Rossi interjected. 

“What can I say, us from down under just have colorful vocabulary,” you shrugged. 

———

The team was finally back in home base after five days in the sweltering heat of Florida and you couldn’t feel any more tired than this moment as you waited for your sister to come pick you up. Granted you could taken the last train ride home but you just didn’t trust yourself to not miss your stop plus she volunteered so you hastily agreed—never one to say no. 

“I think I’ll wait until your sister arrives for you,” Spencer volunteered, taking your go bag out of your hands. 

“I am an FBI agent, Dr. Reid,” you teased. “Perfectly capable of taking care of myself”

“And I don’t disagree! I’ve seen you take down Luke in training and shoot multiple unsubs but you look dead to your feet.” 

You blushed, grateful that the night made it less obvious. “So are you my knight in shining armor then?” 

He cleared his throat, holding on to your gaze. “I could be.” 

You sucked in a breath. 

The temperature between you suddenly felt hot. Did that mean what you think it meant? Did that mean he liked you too? You opened your mouth to ask but was interrupted by a car halting to a stop in front of you. 

It was your sister, what rotten timing.

“Oh please, stop caking and get in before I get ticketed or better yet make it worth it and just pash already!” She shouted through the rolled down window. 

“Caking? Pash?” Spencer repeated. 

“Well—I have to go. Thanks for keeping me safe, Spence.” 

He stops you on your tracks, holding to your hand. “Wait what do those two words mean?” 

You laughed, squeezing his hand in return, and felt a sudden burst of confidence. “Come find me when you figure it out.” 

With a wink, you left Spencer dumbfounded and dazed on the sidewalk.

Some notes: Bogan - an uncouth or unsophisticated person Coppers - policemen Caking - flirting Pash - passionate kiss

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[transfem-breeder]

new blog, new intro

This is a hard kink NSFT blog, absolutely no minors

Hi all, looks like I need to add the obligatory intro. You can call me Victoria, or Miss V. Age is just a number, but I will say that I am an older dominant transfem. This is a hard kink fantasy transfem supremacy blog mainly focused on t4t (femme and masc) and t4c lesbian stuff. I am not really into cis guys, but I do get a kick out of cis men worshiping me. I am mostly into kinks surrounding trans superiority: CNC, TERF breaking, cisgirl breaking, breeding, and more. I am also big into humiliation and praise/degradation of others, not me., This includes musk and pee kinks. I am really not into scat, vomit, or blood.

Stuff I write is tagged #miss v

This is a fantasy blog I am not your mommy, your big sis, your domme, or your girlfriend I will never ask you for money, pictures, or meet irl. I also will never share pics of myself. I’m happy to chat, but I am not available 24/7. I have a life off of this app and I need to live it.

I want to be clear that any big sis /little sub, mommy dom, or fauxcest material is fantasy and between consenting adults. I do not do age play, I do not not get turned on by pedo stuff fantasy or not. I think it’s gross, criminal, and has no place on my blog.

My DMs are only open to accounts I follow. However, my Asks are Open. I will not respond if you do not have an age and gender in your bio

[sightseertrespasser]

This is kind of a ramble, hope you’re cool with that. Your writing is everything. Part ten of Odds of Survival is perfect to me. It’s exactly what I wanted in sense of writing when the idea of Mecha AU was first proposed. It’s the perfect mix of hilarious and serious. Everything flows perfectly. The whole idea is absurd and it knows it’s absurd which makes it work in every way. I don’t know how to properly express how this makes me feel. I’m giggling and squealing and kicking my feet, while simultaneously wanting to dig into something with my teeth and shake it around.

The way you wrote how humans and Cybertronians interact was really fun to me. It felt nicely balanced. I loved that humans are acknowledged as weak in comparison to Cybertronians but also super strong with those damn Mecha suits. Other organic aliens not liking Cybertronians is really interesting to me. I love love love world building, and I want to know how these other spices think. Why don’t they like Cybertronians. How could you take one look at giant robot aliens and not think “awesome”? That’s the coolest thing ever. I’d ally with those metal freaks in a heartbeat.

Prowl being shocked about how we do space travel. “What do you mean you use explosives?”. Sir, how else are you supposed to get into space? It gives the implication that most species don’t use highly explosive materials to leave their planet, but have found out another method which I can’t wrap my head around, but is so totally us . We aren’t going to not do something just because it’s dangerous. We’re going to latch onto whatever method works and make it the best it possibly could be.

Elita being disgusted by Jazz moving was so funny. I was cackling. I love the idea of being perceived as gross by aliens. I threaten to smear my hand oils on things just for the heck of it. Speaking of hand oils, did you know that placing your bare skin on certain types of lightbulbs will cause it to explode? The oils in our finger tips will cause the light to heat up unevenly which in turn, makes it exploded and launch molten shard of glass everywhere. Not totally relevant, but I learned this in film class and thought it was a cool thing we could do and really wanted to share. Hope you don’t mind.

Anyway, your mecha fics are amazing, truly. I know you said you were done writing for Odds of Survival, but I hope you keep writing other stuff in the mecha universe. If not that’s cool too. No pressure obviously. I’ll just be content with what you gave us. But seriously. This is so amazing and cool and awesome and just everything. There’s so much more I want to say that I can’t formulate properly, but your writing is good. I like it lots. 10/10

Thank you so much for your rambling!

When it comes to truly absurd concepts in stories, I far far more enjoy when writers actually play with the implications of those concepts.

I’m certainly a fan of the Humans are Space Orcs variety of fiction, but mainly I just like it when the human characters are still interesting independent of the alien characters. Generic Everyman humans are fine in the short term but I love when writers flesh out their human and alien characters beyond the surface level of “my species is my personality.”

Jazz is a badass and a liar and an extremely “improvisational ” type of problem solver, which makes writing him interesting. Likewise, Prowl is a genius and a schemer and an extremely stubborn problem solver.

Put the two into a bucket full of problems and it’s a joy to watch them go!

The human/alien dynamic just adds another layer to an already interesting assortment of character interactions.

———

Prowl is having a hard time imagining what “big missiles” is supposed to mean in terms of space travel.

He isn’t thinking of 50+ people in a command center all working together with an deathly serious amount of math to ensure the rocket makes it to the station safely. Prowl is imagining Jazz holding on to the outside of a missile for dear life.

Likewise, Prowl is thinking they return to the planet by using reverse propulsion from the rockets to slow down, and he is definitely not thinking the actual method of descending from space is “big cloth and some rope”.

———

The lightbulb funfact is really cool! And yeah, Elita isn’t normally bothered by organics but there was a little too much Freaky going on for one day. The mostly hairless twitching space gerbil was not on her list of things she expected to deal with that day.

———

I’ve definitely got more ideas planned for the mecha au. There’s a lot of other characters to explore and I’ve been sitting on some plans for a while.

[coraniaid]

It’s always very odd to me when I read criticism of A Song Of Ice And Fire online (by which I mainly mean: on Tumblr) which takes for granted that this is some sort of obsessively dark and edgy and mean-spirited fantasy, because ... that's not what the series is actually like at all?  

I mean, yes, some awful (and graphically described) stuff happens in these books, but this is at heart a deeply optimistic and almost embarrassingly romantic story, full of a very obvious sympathy and tenderness for the unhappy and the hurt and the powerless.  The weird gritty-for-the-sake-of-it books that the series's detractors describe wouldn't have recurring POV characters like Sansa Stark or Tyrion Lannister or Davos Seaworth or Samwell Tarly or Brienne of Tarth.  They certainly wouldn't obviously empathize with and respect these characters to the extent the actual books do.  They wouldn't be so obsessive about the importance of hope and kindness and understanding in an otherwise uncaring world.  Whenever the text suggests the world isn't fair or kind there's always an unspoken "but it should be,and I wish it was". You are clearly not meant to think that characters like Roose Bolton or Twyin Lannister are being held up as role models to emulate!

I mean, maybe the TV show is more like that -- I gave up on the show after only a couple of seasons, it was a terrible adaptation of the source material, even before the final season that everyone apparently hated -- but so much of the open disdain for ASOIAF I come across on here reads like the people writing the posts haven't even read a single one of the books. Yes, the popularity of ASOIAF inspired a lot of "dark" fantasy novels that actually are bleakly nihilistic and seem to revel in their characters meeting pointlessly sad and violent ends, but Martin's books are just not like that.

Yes, lots of the world-building for ASOIAF is patently ridiculous, and yes, key parts of the plot are just cribbed from the War of the Roses (or, rather, from historical novels like Sharon Penman's The Sunne in Splendour)  and yes, Martin has said some very stupid things in interviews while busy not writing the series.  And no, I'm not sure I could actually bring myself to recommend the books to anyone who's not read them before (especially when it's so unlikely that the series will ever be finished, let alone in a satisfying way).  I haven’t reread them myself in years.

But honestly, back when I was a quietly miserable teenager these books really meant a lot to me, in part because they are the opposite of the caricature often discussed online.  Yes, they acknowledged that sometimes the world was awful and unbearable.  It is!  But they also suggested that it was still important to try to be fair and kind and to appreciate the moments when things were better.  They are books about trying to do the right thing even when it’s so hard as to seem impossible and nobody else will even know that you tried, written in a way that takes for granted that “the right thing” is also the just and the optimistic and the quietly heroic thing; that doing the right thing when you afraid is more praiseworthy than never being afraid at all. And it is baffling to me how often I see people talking about them now who don't actually seem to have ever even skimmed them but are still vocally passionate in their hatred of something that, as they describe it, simply doesn't exist.

[district4loading]

The CEO (WLW)

Twice Sana!Dom x Female Reader!Sub

6K Words

Content Warning: smut, some angst cause why not, a bit of an age gap, mentions of cheating, fingering, oral, strap

Minors DNI

A/N: There aren’t many times where I can see Sana being dominant but goddamn when I saw these pictures I doubted myself.

I started writing this last night and just finished today (It's 10 in the morning). I hope you bottoms enjoy!!!

Anon - "i know you said in your intro your mainly going to write bottom sana… but any plans of a top sana fic soon for the girlies >< love ur writing btw!"

-

Maybe this was like you

-

"How the hell did I end up here?"

That's what you ask yourself as you stare at the ceiling in this unfamiliar bedroom. You're on the bed half naked and there's this breeze coming from the vents that's got goosebumps forming on your arms. You contemplate getting up and putting your dress back on. It's frankly too expensive to be on the floor anyways, no matter how clean the porcelain tiles are.

But you stay there, trying—then giving up in the same instance—to hear what's being said on the other side of the door. Everything was going fine, she was kissing you and touching you everywhere you needed her to. Until her phone rang, then she muttered "I have to take this" and left you, in your panties in her enormous bed. Seriously, no single person needs a bed this huge.

Well, that's what materialism does to you.

You start to blame yourself, regretting coming here in the first place. It's the fact that you're a college student, the fact that she's got maybe eight years on you. Oh yeah, and maybe also the fact that you're her intern. Well more specifically an intern at the company she runs.

As an arts and design major, internships mattered. So why not apply for an internship at one of the most popular fashion brands in the country? That was your thought process. In the competitive field, among all the other applicants you were chosen for the position. Two weeks later you met the CEO Minatozaki Sana who you never thought could be so attractive in every way possible. Every time you saw her around--which wasn't much--she'd make your knees go weak with only a glance.

How'd you end up in her bed? You don't exactly know. Well, it was maybe six in the afternoon when you were heading out of the office. Then she stopped you and randomly asked if you'd like to get drinks and of course you agreed. Next thing you knew, you're in her penthouse and she's unzipping your dress.

Now you're starting to get frustrated and you sit up, wondering if she forgot that she had someone waiting for her. That's when you actually get a look at the view outside, through the floor to ceiling windows. "Damn" You mutter, actually getting up from the bed to look at the lights.

Because what else were you gonna do? Leave?

Then after what felt like a millennia, you hear the door open up behind you. "I'm sorry, it was really important..." She trails off, noticing how you've migrated from the bed "Enjoying the view I see" She puts her hands in her pockets and you turn around just in time to see it.

You mean to give her a nasty look because you're upset with her for making you wait so long. However, the moment you open your mouth the words get stuck in your throat almost immediately when you see her. She's got on the same thing she's had on all day, this all black Prada outfit and somehow you're still starstruck about how good it fits her.

She comes closer and gets her hands on your waist like they're meant to be there "Now, where were we?" she asks, dipping her head down to your neck and kissing the skin softly. In the time you were waiting, you nearly forgot how good her lips felt on your body. A soft moan slips from your mouth and you already need more.

This is so not like you, opening your legs for some CEO who'll probably kick you out in the morning. But somehow, you just can't resist her. You pull her body closer to you and you allow her to lead you to the bed. Now you're on you're back again and she's on top of you. "Did.. mm did you turn your phone off?" You ask between heavy breaths and whines, because she's sucking on your neck so hard she'll definitely leave a mark and it feels so good.

"Yeah" She pulls away and nods, looking into your eyes. Your hands gravitate to her face and you begin to feel her soft cheeks, you still can't believe she's real. You pull her down, in an attempt to put her lips on yours but she turns away before any of that could happen "I don't kiss, remember?"

You scoff and roll your eyes, having half a mind to push her over "Yeah but you'll give me hickeys, right? And you'll eat me out but kissing is too intimate i guess"

Sana sighs "If you're going to act like that then you can go" Is what she says, but she doesn't move. She stays there with her body on you, face just inches away from yours.

"Then get the fuck off of me" You try to get up but she holds you there and she gives you this look. Her eyes widen a bit and her eyebrows furrow as if she wasn't expecting you to actually challenge her. Then she scowls as she holds you still.

You swallow and you give her the same testing look but you stop squirming, figuring that you'd let her figure out what the hell she'll do next. Unexpectedly, Sana leans forward and connects your lips. It's almost embarrassing how fast you fall into it, into the butterflies and the hot feeling of it all. You kiss her back, she shoves her tongue into your mouth and you whimper when you feel her hand snaking its way down your body.

Sana chuckles into the kiss as her hand slips beneath the waistband of your panties. She breaks the kiss "Happy now?" She asks as her fingers come into contact with your arousal. The truth is, you're soaked, and you've been soaked ever since she got her phone call. So you buck your hips into her hand.

"Very happy" You respond with a broken gasp, your cheeks burning red as you feel her begin to circle your clit ever so slowly. She kisses your lips again, but it's only a short peck this time before she goes back to your neck.

She takes a deep breath in and sighs hotly into your skin, causing a chill to run down your spine "I hope you know... I don't normally do that, especially for a girl I barely know" She hums, putting more pressure and speed in her movements. Usually you'd say something clever but you can't, there couldn't possibly be anything clever that comes to your mind when all you can think about are how good her fingers would feel inside of you, rubbing against your walls and stretching your cunt as you cum over and over again.

Maybe this was like you

Instead of saying anything at all, you grab her shirt with one hand, then use the other to keep a firm grip on her wrist. It feels too good and you need to make sure she doesn't move or slow. Sana holds back a laugh as she realizes just how fucking needy you are. "Easy on the shirt, do you know how much this costs?" She mutters into your neck but you don't really care about that right now.

Sana starts rubbing up and down your slit in slow, deliberate movements and you nearly cry out in protest. That is, until you feel her long, slender finger prodding your entrance "Fuck.. please Sana" You whine, raising your hips into her hand "Please" You beg again and it actually sounds like you might sob if she's not inside of you in the next second.

"I was going to start off with one... but jesus baby you're so fucking wet for me I think you can take two" She takes your earlobe between her teeth and bites down gently, her tongue only grazing against the skin as she slides two fingers inside.

The stretch is immaculate, perfect even and her fingers fit so snug inside of you that you just might think you were made for her. "Oh my fucking god" Your jaw goes slack and your eyes squeeze shut. You can't even control it when you clench around the digits. You need them deeper. When she curls her fingers you allow a strangled sob to escape your throat cause it's been stuck there for a while and after that you start to let everything out.

She's doing it so well, like she's experienced. She's older so obviously she'd be good at this, you just weren't able to actually conceptualize it until now. You can feel your slick dripping and it's getting everywhere, seeping through the sheets and into the mattress. "Please don't stop... don't fucking - Ah!" You cry out, your hand still firm around her wrist.

Sana lifts her head a bit, her face is right in front of you and even though your eyes are shut, you can feel her gaze on you. She's breathing out of her mouth and before you know it, her lips are on yours again. Heat spreads throughout your body as you try your best to keep up with the kiss. The thing is, it's just too good. She's just too good. You couldn't even dream of making yourself feel this good with your own fingers.

As if she can read your mind, she begins to fuck you faster. Now you can't even kiss her back. You're just moaning into her mouth, your lips parted as she licks and kisses all over them. Soon enough she pulls away and kisses your cheek "You're falling apart baby, I wish you could see how pretty you look right now." She stops for a moment, then all you can hear are the sticky sounds coming from in between your legs "God, just fucking listen to that" You already know she has that fucking smirk on her face when she says it.

For a split second you think about how your panties are still on, and how badly they're ruined right now. Then you stop caring because the praise is driving you crazy. You know she must say this shit to every other girl she fucks, it's so obvious but you can't help but feel special when she says it to you. "I.. can't fucking.. believe.." You choke the words out like you've forgotten how to speak. You're a thousand degrees and Sana's making everything even hotter.

You don't know why, but you decide to open your eyes and the sight above you only makes you want to shut them all over again. She's so hot, almost too hot right now. She stares directly into your eyes "You're going to cum aren't you" You nod frantically as your legs begin to tremble "There you go, be a good girl and cum on my fingers, darling" and her voice is so perfectly raspy when she says it. You bring your hands up, then you wrap your arms around her to pull her as close as possible. Her mouth is near your ear again and all of the feelings are too much.

"I'm so fucking close" You whine long and loud and Sana hums directly into your ear.

"Do it" She grits through her teeth and that's when you cum.

Your body arches into hers but she holds you down, her fingers still moving wildly inside of you. "Fuck!" You moan, your body shaking and shuddering on the older woman's fingers. Then you go silent, your lips still parted as the pleasureful waves continuously wash over you and your mind goes completely blank. "Fucking hell" You sputter, finally allowing your muscles to relax.

When your arms loosen around Sana's body she smiles at you and kisses your lips again "I thought you said you don't kiss?" You smile back at her.

"I don't but-"

"But what?"

"But you made a big fuss about it so I did" Sana shrugs, kissing you one more time before kneeling so she can unbutton her top.

"So do you end up kissing every girl who makes a big fuss about it?"

"I don't" She slides the garment off, then tosses it to the side as if she didn't just talk to you about pulling it too hard. "But I don't know, you're different"

"Oh, please spare me the performative b.s. I know for a fact you say that shit to every other twenty year old you fuck"

Sana flinches at your crude word choice, then unzips her pants "For your information, I don't normally do this with college students" She slides them down her slim legs and crawls between your legs. You lean upwards and allow her to unclip your bra. "They're all usually ditzy party girls who don't know how to think for themselves. That's more of a turn off than anything"

"So what about me turned you on, Sana?"

"I've been watching you since you started working with the company. You're smart, opinionated, driven... and sexy. I like how you you're always on time, how you make yourself presentable no matter what, how you know what you're doing. You know what? I'd bet my net worth that you haven't been to a party in months" She reads you like a book, and the only thing you can think of is how sexy her voice sounds while she does it. "You're different, Y/n"

You know it's probably an act, you know she's just saying it to get you attached. But goddamn it, her voice sounds so genuine, so real, so attractive that you start actually believing it. She begins to kiss your body, down your neck, between your breasts and suddenly she's between your legs. You open them for her and she holds each one, looking into your eyes as she kisses your thighs. She leaves marks, sucking and kissing on your flesh and it's obvious that she wants you to beg.

So you do.

"Sana.. please"

She smirks, then hums as if she doesn't know that you want her face buried in between your legs right now. "Want your mouth"

Sana slowly moves closer to your center and she sticks her tongue out. Then she nudges her head just a bit further and you can feel the muscle sliding up and down your slit. You bite your lip to stop yourself from moaning too loudly as her grip on your thighs tighten. It's a bit painful, the way her fingernails are digging into your skin but it turns you on. Only because her marks are going to stay there and in the morning, you'll be reminded of this moment when you see them.

"I'll admit, the first time I saw you, I couldn't wait till I could get my mouth on you" She mutters, then purses her lips to leave small kisses on your clit. "You taste just like I thought you would"

Your legs tremble a little, it's far too much. Her words and her plump lips are doing wonders for you right now. The hot pleasure almost taking your breath away. With a small whimper you say "please" cause you need more. You need her sucking and licking until you're falling apart all over again on her tongue.

"So impatient" She makes a 'tsk' noise with her mouth before taking your clit between her lips. She sucks, moving her jaw in an up and down motion and your vision goes blurry. You gasp and you reach your hand down to run them through her silky brown hair.

"Fuck - how are you so... fucking.. good" You whine, your hips begin to squirm. The pleasure is so overwhelming, but you're raising your hips and you're pushing her head down. You don't want her to move, she can't, not when she has you like this. So you keep her there the best you can. "please please please please please" You chant it like you're casting some sort of spell.

Then Sana fucking giggles, and you feel it. It's like a vibration that sends a shock through your veins and your reactive body shudders in response.

She keeps it up, using her mouth in ways you never knew were possible. Then your body's heating up again, faster this time as beads of sweat start to form on your forehead. You're completely flushed at this point and it's embarrassing but that doesn't matter because if she keeps this up you might actually..

Sana stops, allowing her tongue to lap up your wetness for a moment before she lowers her head. You're breathing heavily at this point, you were right at the edge and she just stopped. A frustrated sigh escaped your lips and you looked at her, about to ask her why she would stop and then you feel her tongue prodding your entrance.

Without warning she shoves it in and you stop breathing for a moment. "Fuck!" You choke, and Sana just tightens her grip on your thighs. She pulls you closer and gets her tongue that much deeper. It feels like absolute heaven, like you're right where you're meant to be.

She has your body fucking shaking and jerking on her tongue and she's smiling the whole time. Sana's turning you into an absolute mess and she's enjoying every single moment. Every single flick of her tongue had a specific purpose that made you see stars.

"Shit, I'm close" You warn and before you even know it, Sana's sliding herself off of the bed. "Where are you going" You sit up and there's a dazed look on your face as you try to figure it out on your own because of course she won't tell you.

You open your mouth to say something but you forget whatever it was that you were going to say when you see Sana walk out of her walk in closet with a toy in her hand. It's pink, and kind of translucent but it still makes your eyes widen.

A smile grows on your face as you watch her put it on carefully. She's deliberately being slow with it too, a smirk on her face as she tightens the straps well.

When it's finally on, Sana climbs onto the bed and in between your legs which you end up opening for her. She leans in and kisses you on your lips, nice and slow and there's nothing that feels better in this moment. Her soft lips make you feel like you're floating in space, the way it eliminates every other thought in your mind.

Then Sana buries her face in the crook of your neck, grabbing the toy with her hand to line it up. "I'll take care of you Y/n, I promise i'll have you screaming my name and cumming on this toy until you're begging me to stop" She almost growls the words into your skin, and you know she fucking means it.

"Please" Is the only word you utter before you feel the head of the dildo push past your entrance. Your eyes widen and you wrap your arms around Sana's body "Oh my fucking god" You try to moan but it comes out silent, like you've lost your voice.

She slides it in nice and slow, with gentle consideration but you're still wincing because it's fucking huge. You try to focus on your breathing and it works for a little bit, until she eases it in deeper and you forget everything. You're sure it's tearing you apart, but you can't help it when your legs wrap around her waist.

"You okay?" She raises her head and plants her fists into the mattress to hold herself up.

You swallow and nod your head, hoping she'll ignore the tears in your eyes because you've never felt so full. "I- Yeah.. just go slow please" 

The look Sana gives you is understanding and a small smile appears on her lips. She leans down and kisses you again but it's only a short peck for reassurance. Then she draws back and then rolls her hips forwards. It only goes in half way but the sound you make is nothing short of pure, raw lust. You grab onto her arms and close your eyes, digging your nails into her skin in an attempt to cope with the overwhelming stimulation.

Now she's thrusting in and out of you in a rhythm, her pace slow and steady. You appreciate that she's taking her time with you because you hadn't realized just how long it's been until now. "Look at me, princess" Sana says it softly but it's also demanding. So you do. She smiles a little "You have the prettiest eyes"

All you can really do is moan and it's embarrassing because she's telling you all the right things and now the monstrous stretch is starting to feel so good. Sana really did know how to fuck and you're already craving more. "Please.. faster" You beg, giving her the most pathetic set of pleading eyes.

She does as you say on command, fucking you faster and deeper. You feel the smooth silicone toy scrape against your walls with each movement she makes and you can feel yourself getting wetter because she's just hitting all the right spots inside.

Sana takes a moment to look down at where your bodies meet. "Look at that. You're fucking creaming for me" She announces, referring to the white ring of slick thats forming around the base of the toy. You can't see it, but you know it's a lot.

"Only for you" You say it like you've lost your goddamn mind. It's insane, this is the first time she's fucking you and the first time you've been to her place but you're already letting her claim you. It can't be good and you know it, but how are you supposed to think about that when she's eight inches deep inside of you and saying all the right things.

Then she slows down and eventually halts her movements. She repositions herself and leans upwards until she's sitting on her heels. Without pulling the toy out, Sana grabs the backs of your thighs and pushes them like she's trying to bend you in half. You're not even that flexible but she manages to get your knees to your chest. She leans over and holds herself up by your thighs. You can't help it when you squeal because the pressure hurts so fucking good.

You brace yourself as she moves her hips and it feels even better. This new angle allowed the toy to get that much deeper and it's making you feel like you wouldn't mind doing this over and over and over again with her. "You're.. fucking me.. so damn... good" You manage to say the words through your moans because you just have to let her know that she's destroying you.

As if she didn't already know that

Of course she gives you that smile and then she starts actually fucking pounding you. You don't know where all this raw force is coming from, she's a thin woman, slim arms with little muscle mass but somehow she's able to pin you down, fold you and fuck you like this. 

She's got it so fucking deep inside of you that you think you might cry. "Sana- fuck I can't- god you're so... I- please" Your breathing quickens. It's embarrassing how close she has you right now. "Fuck- if you keep.." You can't even finish your sentence, that's how bad she's wrecking you right now.

Sana gets the message, chuckling lowly at your struggles as she continues to fuck the shit out of you. You can hear how sloppy it is, that distinct sticky wet noise that's loud in your ears. It tells you just how wet and fucked up she's got you, it tells you that you'll probably be back at her door soon after this is over. It tells you that you might actually be hers sooner or later.

You gasp, then your hands are frantically looking for something to hold onto as your orgasm approaches hard and fast. "You're going to make me fucking cum" You warn, deciding to grab onto the duvet, because she's too far away for you to reach.

She hums and nods her head "That's right baby, cum for me again" She grunts and that's when your body begins to short circuit. She's using even more force now because your cunt is clenching tight around the girthy toy, making it harder for her to keep the same pace.

"I can't... I-" A loud moan follows your words and you finally fall off the edge. "Cumming" Is the only word you manage to say as it hits you like a truck. Your entire body trembles as she fucks you through it, never stopping her unrelenting pace. You freeze for a moment, eyes slamming shut just before everything crashes down. You begin gasping and gaping and Sana let's go of your thighs.

She spreads your legs open and falls between them, getting her lips on yours as fast as humanly possible. You're finally able to get your hands on her and your hold her close like she's gonna go away forever if you don't. You're eating each other alive, tongues dancing together as your saliva gets everywhere and the distinct flavor of your slick on her lips only adds to your arousal.

Sana breaks this kiss and gives you a smile "Again, i'm very sorry about the phone call. But I think that made up for it"

"Maybe"

Now you've got no clue what to do.

Should you leave? Should you stay? Should you ask her if she wants you to stay? You cringe at the last option.

You try to move from under her but Sana keeps you there "Stay" She asks, in such a cute voice as if she didn't just contort your body in a thousand different ways. So you stay there, and minutes pass and you wonder how long it'll be before she tells you to go. 

It takes a little while but soon she gets up and she leaves you laying there and you feel that cold breeze again. She's taking off the harness, taking her time and then you notice her gaze shift to the bedside table. "Is this yours?" She goes to pick something up.

At first you're a little confused, until you remember that you took your necklace off and put it there when she went to take her call. Now she's got the priceless item in her hand, holding it all wrong as she dangles it in front of her face. "Yeah" You get up and take it from her hands "Be careful, the clasp is broken" You say it harshly, but you don't exactly mean to.

"Sorry" She scratches the back of her head after you take it from her "Why don't you get it fixed?" She asks as she watches you struggle to put it on.

"Because the part is unique, there's only one and... it can't be fixed"

"Oh" She pauses, noticing the change in your relaxed demeanor. Something about you is colder and more tense. She tilts her head "So why don't you just get a new one... I'm sure there are nicer necklaces that-"

"It was a gift from my grandma, this was the last gift she gave me before she.." You can't even bring yourself to say the words as you absentmindedly hold the pendant between your fingers. It brings you comfort. "Sorry for ruining the mood" You sigh, trying to stop yourself from tearing up. Not here, in front of this woman who probably didn't give a fuck about you.

Sana sits next to you on the bed and she touches your thigh "No, don't be sorry. I was curious" You sniffle and nod your head. When you turn to look into her eyes, they look so gentle, so considerate in all the right ways. Maybe it's because you're in a vulnerable position right now or it's cause you just slept with her, but when she asks if you want to stay the night you don't even hesitate to say yes.

What have I gotten myself into now?

-

"Hey, Y/n? You're wanted in Miss Minatozaki's room" Your mentor, Jihyo pulls you aside. You try your best not to wince, keeping secrets was never your thing. Either way, you manage to hum and nod, hoping that she'd walk off but she doesn't "Hey wait, listen you know how she's the CEO of the company and everything right? I feel like she's taken more of an interest to you more than any other intern i've trained. You should definitely build off of her interest in you, show her that you'd be an asset to the company and hey maybe she could get you a comfy position here if you'd like to come back. Or if not, she can put in a good word so your job search goes well after you graduate"

You smile politely. 'Never in a million years' is what you want to say but instead you settle on "I'll be sure to do that"

It's your last week interning for the company and you're happy for that, happy to never have to step foot in this building again and hopefully never see Sana's face again. But you still have to answer to her so you decide to make it quick, taking the elevator to the 60th floor because of course her office is on the top floor.

You take a deep breath before opening the door to step inside. Sana looks up at you from her computer as you close the door behind you. "You know it's really low of you to get my mentor to send me up here to you" You cross your arms and you decide not to sit down, you didn't want to get yourself comfortable with her. Not again.

"Well how else am I supposed to get your attention if you've got me blocked on everything?"

"You're not supposed to. That's why I blocked you, because I don't want your attention" You can't help but lose your temper in front of her. It's crazy how she brings out the absolute worst in you.

Sana just sighs, "Look, you need to stop being so fucking childish and talk to me like an adult" You're at a loss for words, you genuinely cannot believe that you just heard her right. Your eye twitches just a bit and you begin to laugh "Y/n" She calls you, and she's serious about it too, but you can't help the giggles that escape your lips "Y/n" she says your name again sternly.

"I'm sorry" You begin to gain control of yourself "It's just funny to hear the cheater call me childish"

"You really don't have to be so loud"

After the first night you spent with Sana, you started doing things like that casually. Whether it was sneaking around the office or showing up to her place, you always found a way to hook up. Then it became something deeper and more romantic when she started buying you gifts, bringing you flowers and taking you out on dates. Sleeping over became a norm in your relationship and after maybe six weeks she was practically begging for you to get serious.

So despite everything in your living being telling you not to, you decided to try it out. The gifts were nice and so were the dates and not to mention all of the kisses and hugs. You had already fallen for her by then and in the blink of an eye everything shattered when you caught her with her assistant. You didn't stay for an explanation, shit you really didn't need to. The gross ass make out session they were having said enough.

So much for "I don't kiss"

You really beat yourself up over it, shit you were still in the process of beating yourself up over it. The wound was still fresh because it'd only been two weeks since. You should've known she was full of shit.

"Oh really? Which one do you think people would be more concerned about? The fact that you've been fucking the intern or the fact that you've been fucking your assistant?" You say it louder on purpose just to piss her off and Sana only huffs at you "Why did you call me up here?" You get straight to the point, because you didn't like for your time to be wasted.

"I want you to give me another chance"

You stare at each other for a few seconds and you almost laugh out loud again because she can't be serious right?

"No. Give me one good reason why I should?"

"Because I got you this" She opens a drawer in her desk and pulls something out, placing it on top of the wood and sliding it forward.

"Sana, you can't win me over with gifts. It's so disrespectful that you think i'm so easy-"

"Just, open it"

You walk over to her desk, sitting down in a chair as you unwrap the present-like box. "What the hell" You mutter as you go to open the box, there's a necklace in it but something about it is familiar. "Is this.." You gasp then put your hand over your mouth as you look at Sana "You got it fixed? I.. how? The part was one of a kind.." You glance back at the clasp, it looks brand new.

"I had some connections and you seemed really bummed about it, so I took it and I wanted to surprise you but then.." Sana suddenly feels uneasy about finishing the sentence. Your eyes begin to well up with tears as you gently pick up the necklace from the box.

Then she starts her apology "I'm really sorry about everything.. If it makes you feel any better I didn't actually fuck her- well I used to before we made things official but not after that! I swear you just walked in at a really bad time and she kissed me and I didn't push her away immediately but I promise we wouldn't have done anything else.. I was just being dumb"

She stumbles over her words in an attempt to make things better, to at least gain your forgiveness if not your trust. You couldn't even bring yourself to take your eyes off of the necklace, and you barely hear anything she's said but something in your heart softens for her. You wipe your tears and sniffle "Thank you so much" Is all you manage to say before you begin to break down.

Sana finally gets up, she wraps her arms around you and it feels so right. Now what are you supposed to do? Tell her to go fuck herself after she's done this? You can't bring yourself to even push her off of you, on the contrary you actually pull her closer. It takes a while, but she pulls away from the hug and you already miss it. "Sana.. I, I need time to think about everything"

You stand up, and put the box with the necklace in it on the table "Wait, at least take the necklace. It's yours"

Figuring there was no harm in it, you take the necklace and with that you walk out of the door.

To keep things short, it's probably the worst decision you've ever made.

[oneforthemunny]

Omggggg the cowboy eddie’s gorl finding the paddle blurb got me goodddd, cannot stop thinking abt him teaching his girl “the ropes” etc + would lay down my life to read that if you ever get an itch to write that miss munnyhunny

definitely the funnest part of the relationship tbh. like there's a lot of fun but that? that's the peak (sexually at least).

mainly bc he is sooooo nervous. like trying to explain- "i want to hit you but not really, like, i would never. but in a sexy way." like you have no idea that this is a pretty fairly common sexual fantasy. you play coy a little just to hear him stutter and watch him blush.

just had the filthy thought that this would morph into you convincing him to watch a porno with you.

"why don't you rent a movie that shows what you like?" you bat your eyes so sweetly he thinks he's going to pass out.

"like-like a porno?"

"yeah, sure." you shrug, trying to fight the tingle of excitement that's rushing through your veins. "just to better understand. i'm more of a visual learner anyways, baby."

ofc he rents one. is all sweaty palms and shaking legs sitting with you on the couch, your head in his lap- innocently, of course, or so he thinks. you can feel every squirm and tensing of his hips as the film goes on and the actress is bent over the desk, spanked with a paddle, her hands tied behind her back as she dances from foot to foot.

at the end, your positively throbbing, rolling over so your head brushes over his erection. "that's what you like?"

eddie can't reply, throat so tight, all he does is give a short nod.

"hmm," you hum, fingertips tracing over the rough material of his jeans, dangerously close to his zipper. "i think that will be alright." your eyes light up, grinning up at him. "let's try it."

"y-yeah?"

you nod, pushing up on the couch so your faces are inches apart. you kiss him softly, nearly teasingly, before twisting your body, sliding over his lap, resting your head on your folded arms. eddie's sure his heart has stopped beating.

"this ok?" you look up at him through batting lashes. "or do you want my hands behind my back?"

"n-no that's- this is fine." eddie nods, trying to reel himself back in, swallow down his nerves and excitement. "you just let me know if you need me to stop, ok? just say the word and i'll stop, baby."

you nod, hips squirming, grinding purposefully over his bulge. "i will." you paused, looking back over at him. "you can start."

this might be another one that has to come to life.

[wenutted]

I dont see a character limit so..

hcs with dr.ratio, jing yuan, aventurine, sunday, blade and dan heng as father figures? :3

Father figures! Dr. Veritas Ratio, Jing Yuan, Aventurine, Sunday, Blade, Dan Heng [SEPERATE] & Reader

[CW]: [MASSIVE SPOILERS for Penacony and the Xianzhou Luofu, some good old angst, and very brief mentions of death]

[Genre(s)]: [Bit of a mixed bag tbh. We have some crack, some angst, some fluff, and but they're mainly just general hcs]

[A/N]: [Oh right character limits... I should set that. Maybe like I'll settle with about.. 5 characters max? (I'll still write all 6 here tho dw lol)]

[Oh, also, you mentioned father figures, and not fathers, so no one's biologically related here, they just kinda go "ur my friend now" instead]

Dr. Veritas Ratio

-> The only reasonable way I could see Dr. Ratio ever spare a glance at you without some kind of special circumstances would be if you're one of his students.

-> You're the youngest in his class, which in of itself is a feat, but you've managed to score yourself as one of the more well-behaved students. It's not like you have the best grades, nor are you very good at socializing with your classmates during projects, but you're a good kid; you ask questions on things you don't understand, pay attention during lessons, and you seem genuinely interested in the material. This, in of itself, is more than enough for you to become one of Dr. Ratio's favorite students.

◇ It's hard to really tell when exactly the shift occurs, but, one day, Veritas eventually just kinda... takes you under his wing?

◆ Dr. Ratio isn't one to show much lenience, but he spoils you in his own special way; tutoring you before tests, letting you speak first if someone else raises their hand at the same time– hell, he even lets you hang out in the classroom between lectures.

◇ Imagine just munching on the loudest chips while Veritas is trying to grade homework. Poor guy is genuinely tweaking, but he can't bring himself to yell at you; you're just trying to eat. Meanwhile, you're holding back a cheeky grin as you watch him try and pay attention.

◆ Even funnier, imagine calling him 'dad' in class. As soon as the words leave your lips, you almost immediately request to go to the bathroom, and end up skipping the rest of the lesson. Of course, Dr. Ratio scolds you for doing so, but he definitely gloats about it to a few of his associates.

◇◆◇◆◇

Jing Yuan

-> It is not hard to consider this man fatherly; whether you're a solider who works under the general, or you're just a civilian who occasionally chats with him over tea. The funniest part is that Jing Yuan just accepts this fate, and even leans into it.

◇ He trains you personally, alongside Yanqing, teaching you how to protect yourself, but also using the long sessions as an excuse to bond with you.

◆ Jing Yuan is also the #1 napping companion. You can just curl up next to him and almost immediately you're drifting off. Finches land on your heads, chirping soft, and there's a cat purring in the General's lap. After a few minutes, Yanqing joins too, and now there's really no chance of waking up anytime soon.

◇ Speaking of Yanqing, if Jing Yuan's your dad, then Yanqing is your annoying brother. You love him to death, but the knight-in-training always seems to find the most inconvenient times to seek you out.

◆ Overall, these two are the best family tho. 10/10.

◇ (BTW imagine auntie!Fu Xuan who teaches you basic forms of divination; like reading tea leaves)

◇◆◇◆◇

Aventurine

-> Again, it really doesn't matter whether you work for the IPC as well, or if you're just a citizen from some random planet he visits. The former would allow the two of you to see each other more often tho, so we'll go with that.

◇ Aventurine's a chatty guy, so if you work directly under him, it's not hard to end up getting along with the Stoneheart. You guys just kinda clicked and now you're attached at the hip.

◆ He takes you on as his apprentice, and brings you everywhere with him. Every day with Aventurine is an adventure; whether you're sitting around and doing paperwork, or taking part in that grand Penacony scene, you best bet that gambler will find a way for you to have fun.

◇ You've probably learned a lot of different games and strategies, too. Even if you're just watching Aventurine play, all of the rules have been committed to memory. Whether it's poker or blackjack, you can easily keep up with even the most advanced of players.

◆ Unfortunately, you've also gained your mentor's nasty habit of not hesitating to go all in. Of course, it's not like you just throw everything on the line on a whim; you're not an idiot. But, if you're confident it'll earn you the win, you don't waste a second to rely on your luck and raise the stakes.

◇ Aventurine almost cries the first time you call him 'dad'. He definitely tells all his colleagues about it too. Aunt Jade will forever tease you about it, while Topaz awkwardly pats your back and tries not to laugh.

◇◆◇◆◇

Sunday

-> I'd like to imagine you're a singer, like Robin, but you also do her makeup before she steps up onto stage. Regardless, you and the cosmic superstar are already incredibly close; she's practically your family. You both rehearse together, compose songs together, and sometimes you even perform together!

◇ Being such dear friends, it's no surprise that you've talked to Sunday plenty. Whether it's phone calls, holograms, or handwritten letters, you know the halovian man like the back of your hand.

◆ So, it's not anything particularly special or surprising when Sunday and Robin personally greet you, upon your arrival in Golden Hour. They're both familiar faces, and brief pleasantries quickly escalate into deep conversations.

◇ While you eventually head off with Robin again, to go prepare for the Charmony Festival, you promise to come visit some time later. Sunday merely chuckles and ruffles your hair, sending you on your merry way.

◆ Unfortunately, that promised meeting never happens. Before you have the chance to even go to the Dewlight Pavillion, you're suddenly awakened from a sweet dream by none of than Robin, herself, quickly urging you along.

◇ The Harmonious Choir stands before you. Every moment is more terrifying than the last as you battle alongside the Astral Express. What's happening? Why is Sunday doing all of this?

◆ By the time the damned melody comes to an end and the Harmonious Choir– no, Sunday falls backwards, you can't even will yourself to move as you watch Robin races towards him. You feel sick to your stomach. This is the worst dream ever.

◇◆◇◆◇

Blade

-> You just so happened to have encountered Blade in some dank, backwater alleyway, all the while his Mara was flaring up. Very safe circumstances.

◇ Guess what happens when this scary ahh criminal man comes charging towards you, sword in hand, when you're trying to explore.

◆ Yeah, you killed him. And then you had a panic attack because you just killed a human being. And then he wakes up, and then you panic more.

◇ Bro does NOT understand what's going on. He just stares at you while you scream bloody murder, and flops to the floor in a near melodramatic fashion once you regain your wits and try to check on him.

◆ It takes like 30 minutes for Kafka to come and finally pick the cranky old man up, but by that point he kinda just drags you along with him. Blade doesn't like you per se, but you're also his emotional support silly little guy now.

◇ Kafka finds it too amusing to tell him to stop. So now you're unofficially a Stellaron Hunter!!! Safe to say Silver wolf was happy about it lmaoo

◆ Blade doesn't really act very fatherly, but he definitely has his moments.

◇ If Elio ever puts you in a script, Blade will make sure to flank you at all times, keeping a sharp eye on you.

◆ He's also another ideal napping buddy. While Blade, himself, doesn't sleep much unless he's healing from a bad wound, he won't leave if you lean against his shoulder. Literally this man will die before he wakes you up.

◇◆◇◆◇

Dan Heng

-> Dan Heng is a very patient parent. There's no arguing with that– but he's also a bit distant at times. You can only wonder what's going on in that guy's head.

◇ Dan Heng holds your hand whenever the both of you are anywhere crowded, and he'll even pick you up, if you ask. But then the Trailblazer started asking for piggyback rides too and now you have to walk everywhere :(

◆ Also, I feel like he'd be more affectionate as Imbibitor Lunae. Something something instincts, maybe. He'll wrap his tail around you, he'll let you touch the giant water dragon thing he summons, Dan Heng would probably split the sea for you, just so you could collect seashells.

◇ Just don't call him Daniel, or else you'll be shunned for all of 2 weeks </3

◇◆◇◆◇

[Please, if you enjoyed reading this, leave a reblog or a comment. Your words motivate me to write more!]

[buckys-little-belle]

Hiiiii I really love your whole Tumblr it's really comforting I really loved the one you wrote I think it was called just feelin little with bucky and steve and it was really comforting because I don't fully regress other thank cuddling up at night with my blanky and a theeter shaped like an oreo

If your comfortable writing something like that with Eddie Munson like maybe a little that doesn't even understand what that is and one day at he notice that the reader is having a hard time and kinda swoops in and helps. Thanks for listening even if you don't write have a good day (or night :)

Chomp Chomp

Eddie Munson x Little!Reader (They/Them/No pronouns used)

Warnings - Eddie helps the reader regress, use of teethers, use of a comfort blankie, talks about being stressed, talks about de-stressing, reader goes into a state of "disassociation" basically they are very stressed and just stop replying to Eddie's questions, very very vague mentions of that though, a bit of angst, but mainly self-indulgent fluff! (Also I made the teether one of the frozen ones but I'm now realizing that's probably not the kind you meant! So I apologize!)

Notes - I wrote this in a different perspective than I usually do. I just need a break from the more "formal" writing style I usually do and I hope that you like it!

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW!

. ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ .

. ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ .

Eddie knew that you age regressed before you really understood it yourself. He'd taken note of how you sleep with whatever soft blanket you could find at night time, how you often found yourself chewing on ice before bed, and and you'd act like, what you called "snuggly", and what he called "small".

He didn't want to scare you with the big title of "age regression" all at once. So he slowly began incorporating more "classic" age regression tactics to your nightly routine without you realizing it at first.

Instead of a glass full of big ice cubes you'd bite in half, he gave you a plastic cup full of small bat shaped ice cubes. They were easier to chew on, and he liked knowing the cup wouldn't shatter if you dropped it.

Then he bought you a small soft grey blanket at the thrift store. He washed it and made sure it smelled like him before he gave it to you, giving you the impression that it was just laying around somewhere instead of bought for a specific reason.

It became your "Nightie blankie", you nicknamed it and Eddie was once again sure of your regression, or at least partial regression. You slept with it every night, snuggled to your chest, the soft material tickling your chin as you slept.

After a few months of just those two new things he added in a fun nightlight so he could finally turn the bathroom light off. You thought it was cute, it projected a small smattering of stars on the ceiling and it often lulled you to sleep.

Next though, the next step was a little harder to get you acclimated with. "A teething ring?" You asked, holding the small thing in your hand. "It's cold?"

"I put it in the freezer, there's gel inside that gets cold." Eddie reasoned. "This way you don't have to eat so much ice before bed, you can just chomp on this." He gave your forehead a kiss before making the bed. Hoping that if he acted chill about it you would be fine with the new addition.

"But it's for babies?" You grumbled.

Eddie stood up with a huff, his hands on his hips. "Do you like it?" He asked, eyebrows raised.

You took a quick chomp, liking the way the frozen thing felt like ice but wouldn't make you full of water or your hands wet. "I don't know."

"Just try it for tonight, if you hate it I'll give you your ice back." He said it so plainly, like he hadn't given you a kids toy to chomp on.

You ended up enjoying your teether, chomping on it was much easier than eating ice, and you liked the little charms that were attached. It was calming, and Eddie didn't think it was weird, and you trusted him on it.

A year later, with all of your new regression tools in place bedtime seemed easier. Eddie had brought up the idea of age regression a few times, but always in a passive way.

He'd put cartoons on and say things like "Doesn't this make you feel like a kid again?" and "I wish I had some toys to play with." when things got boring at the trailer.

You didn't really understand that he wasn't really feeling like a kid while watching the tv shows, or wishing for toys, he was seeing how you reacted, seeing if you were maybe an age regressor outside of just bedtime.

He didn't push it but he got you a few stuffies, and kept cartoons on often. He didn't want to force you to regress if you didn't need it, or seem to be interested, and you didn't really seem to regress all that young. You seemed to drift to an unknown age that liked teethers, blankies, and night lights, but also liked to humm Metallica songs before bed. You were different, and he enjoyed it.

One day though you seemed on edge. Stressed about something that he couldn't fix, something you couldn't seem to get over. You began worrying him when you sat on the floor and just sort of stared off into space. You weren't panicking anymore, you weren't coping.

So he thought that maybe some regression would help you work through the big emotions in a safer way. So he grabbed your blanket and placed it in your hands, you immediately began to fiddle with it, but still didn't respond when he tried to talk to you about why you were stressed.

So he then turned the lights off, grabbing the small nighlight and brining it to the living room. Now instead of staring off into space your eyes drifted along the ceiling as the stars moved around.

Last but not least he grabbed your teether, placing it in your hand. Like you did at bedtime you began to chomp on it, and Eddie smiled.

"What's going on, baby?" He asked, taking a seat next to you.

"Jus' chomp, chomping." You replied with a soft smile.

"Yeah, and why do you need to chomp chomp?" He said in an animated voice.

Slowly you began to tell him what was bothering you, and slowly he helped you solve the problem, letting you use your regression and comfort items to help keep you calm and collected instead of distant and despondent.

You didn't regress often outside of bedtime, and you didn't really seem to regress to a certain age, but Eddie understood what you needed, and he helped you in his own subtle ways.