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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

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Netflix wants to chop down your family tree

Netflix has unveiled the details of its new anti-password-sharing policy, detailing a suite of complex gymnastics that customers will be expected to undergo if their living arrangements trigger Netflix’s automated enforcement mechanisms:

https://thestreamable.com/news/confirmed-netflix-unveils-first-details-of-new-anti-password-sharing-measures

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/02/nonbinary-families/#red-envelopes

Netflix says that its new policy allows members of the same “household” to share an account. This policy comes with an assumption: that there is a commonly understood, universal meaning of “household,” and that software can determine who is and is not a member of your household.

This is a very old corporate delusion in the world of technology. In the early 2000s, I spent years trying to bring some balance to an effort at DVB, whose digital television standards are used in most of the world (but not the USA) when they rolled out CPCM, a DRM system that was supposed to limit video-sharing to a single household.

Their term of art for this was the “authorized domain”: a software-defined family unit whose borders were privately negotiated by corporate executives from media companies, broadcasters, tech and consumer electronics companies in closed-door sessions all around the world, with no public minutes or proceedings.

https://onezero.medium.com/the-internet-heist-part-iii-8561f6d5a4dc

These guys (they were nearly all guys) were proud of how much “flexibility” they’d built into their definition of “household.” For example, if you owned a houseboat, or a luxury car with seatback displays, or a summer villa in another country, the Authorized Domain would be able to figure out how to get the video onto all those screens.

But what about other kinds of families? I suggested that one of our test cases should be a family based in Manila: where the dad travels to remote provinces to do agricultural labor; the daughter is a nanny in California; and the son is doing construction work in the UAE. This suggestion was roundly rejected as an “edge case.”

Of course, this isn’t an edge case. There are orders of magnitude more people whose family looks like this than there are people whose family owns a villa in another country. Owning a houseboat or a luxury car makes you an outlier. Having an itinerant agricultural breadwinner in your family does not.

But everyone who is in the room when a cartel draws up a standard definition of what constitutes a household is almost certainly drawn from a pool that is more likely to have a summer villa than a child doing domestic work or construction labor half a world away. These weirdos, so dissimilar from the global majority, get to define the boxes that computers will shove the rest of the world into. If your family doesn’t look like their family, that’s tough: “Computer says no.”

One day at a CPCM meeting, we got to talking about the problem of “content laundering” and how the way to prevent it would be to put limits on how often someone could leave a household and join another one. No one, they argued, would ever have to change households every week.

I put my hand up and said, “What about a child whose divorced parents share custody of her? She’s absolutely going to change households every week.” They thought about it for a moment, then the rep from a giant IT company that had recently been convicted of criminal antitrust violations said, “Oh, we can solve that: we’ll give her a toll-free number to call when she gets locked out of her account.”

That was the solution they went with. If you are a child coping with the dissolution of your parents’ marriage, you will have the obligation to call up a media company every month — or more often — and explain that Mummy and Daddy don’t love each other any more, but can I please have my TV back?

I never forgot that day. I even wrote a science fiction story about it called (what else?) “Authorized Domain”:

https://craphound.com/news/2011/10/31/authorised-domain/

I think everyone understood that this was an absurd “solution,” but they had already decided that they were going to complete the seemingly straightforward business of defining a category like “household” using software, and once that train left the station, nothing was going to stop it.

This is a recurring form of techno-hubris: the idea that baseline concepts like “family” have crisp definitions and that any exceptions are outliers that would never swallow the rule. It’s such a common misstep that there’s a whole enre* called “Falsehoods Programmers Believe About ______”:

https://github.com/kdeldycke/awesome-falsehood

In that list: names, time, currency, birthdays, timezones, email addresses, national borders, nations, biometrics, gender, language, alphabets, phone numbers, addresses, systems of measurement, and, of course, families. These categories are touchstones in our everyday life, and we think we know what they mean — but then we try to define them, and the list of exceptions spirals out into a hairy, fractal infinity.

Historically, these fuzzy categorical edges didn’t matter so much, because they were usually interpreted by humans using common sense. My grandfather was born “Avrom Doctorovitch” (or at least, that’s one way to transliterate his name, which was spelled in a different alphabet, but which was also transliterating his first name from yet another alphabet). When he came to Canada as a refugee, his surname was anglicized to “Doctorow.” Other cousins are “Doctorov,” “Doctoroff,” and “Doktorovitch.”

Naturally, his first name could have been “Abraham” or “Abe,” but his first employer (a fellow Eastern European emigre) decided that was too ethnic and in sincere effort to help him fit in, he called my grandfather “Bill.” When my grandfather attained citizenship, his papers read “Abraham William Doctorow.” He went by “Abe,” “Billy,” “Bill,” “William,” “Abraham” and “Avrom.”

Practically, it didn’t matter that variations on all of these appeared on various forms of ID, contracts, and paperwork. His reparations check from the German government had a different variation from the name on the papers he used to open his bank account, but the bank still let him deposit it.

All of my relatives from his generation have more than one name. Another grandfather of mine was born “Aleksander,” and called “Sasha” by friends, but had his name changed to “Seymour” when he got to Canada. His ID was also a mismatched grab-bag of variations on that theme.

None of this mattered to him, either. Airlines would sell him tickets and border guards would stamp his passport and rental agencies would let him drive away in cars despite the minor variations on all his ID.

But after 9/11, all that changed, for everyone who had blithely trundled along with semi-matching names across their official papers and database entries. Suddenly, it was “computer says no” everywhere you turned, unless everything matched perfectly. There was a global rush for legal name-changes after 9/11 — not because people changed their names, but because people needed to perform the bureaucratic ritual necessary to have the name they’d used all along be recognized in these new, brittle, ambiguity-incinerating machines.

For important categories, ambiguity is a feature, not a bug. The fact that you can write anything on an envelope (including a direction to deliver the letter to the granny flat over the garage, not the front door) means that we don’t have to define “address” — we can leave it usefully hairy around the edges.

Once the database schema is formalized, then “address” gets defined too — the number of lines it can have, the number of characters each line can have, the kinds of characters and even words (woe betide anyone who lives in Scunthorpe).

If you have a “real” address, a “real” name, a “real” date of birth, all of this might seem distant to you. These “edge” cases — seasonal agricultural workers, refugees with randomly assigned “English” names — are very far from your experience.

That’s true — for now (but not forever). The “Shitty Technology Adoption Curve” describes the process by which abusive technologies work their way up the privilege gradient. Every bad technological idea is first rolled out on poor people, refugees, prisoners, kids, mental patients and other people who can’t push back.

Their bodies are used to sand the rough edges and sharp corners off the technology, to normalize it so that it can climb up through the social ranks, imposed on people with more and more power and influence. 20 years ago, if you ate your dinner under an always-on #CCTV, it was because you were in a supermax prison. Today, it’s because you bought a premium home surveillance system from Google, Amazon or Apple.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/29/impunity-corrodes/#arise-ye-prisoners

The Netflix anti-sharing tools are designed for rich people. If you travel for business and stay in the kind of hotel where the TV has its own Netflix client that you can plug your username and password into, Netflix will give you a seven-day temporary code to use.

But for the most hardcore road-warriors, Netflix has thin gruel. Unless you connect to your home wifi network every 31 days and stream a show, Netflix will lock out your devices. Once blocked, you have to “contact Netflix” (laughs in Big Tech customer service).

Why is Netflix putting the screws to its customers? It’s part of the enshittification cycle, where platform companies first allocate surpluses to their customers, luring them in and using them as bait for business customers. Once they turn up, the companies reallocate surpluses to businesses, lavishing them with low commissions and lots of revenue opportunities. And once they’re locked in, the company starts to claw back the surpluses for itself.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

Remember when Netflix was in the business of mailing red envelopes full of DVDs around the country? That was allocating surpluses to users. The movie companies hated this, viewed it as theft — a proposition that was at least as valid as Netflix’s complaints about password sharing, but every pirate wants to be an admiral, and when Netflix did it to the studios, that was “progress,” but when you do it to Netflix, that’s theft.

Then, once Netflix had users locked in and migrated to the web (and later, apps), it shifted surpluses to studios, paying fat licensing fees to stream their movies and connect them to a huge audience.

Finally, once the studios were locked in, Netflix started to harvest the surplus for its shareholders: raising prices, lowering streaming rates, knocking off other studios’ best performing shows with in-house clones, etc. Users’ surpluses are also on the menu: the password “sharing” that let you define a household according to your family’s own idiosyncratic contours is unilaterally abolished in a quest to punish feckless Gen Z kids for buying avocado toast instead of their own Netflix subscriptions.

Netflix was able to ignore the studios’ outraged howls when it built a business by nonconsenually distributing their products in red envelopes. But now that Netflix has come for your family, don’t even think about giving Netfix some of what it gave to the MPAA.

As a technical matter, it’s not really that hard to modify Netflix’s app so that every stream you pull seems to come from your house, no matter where you are. But doing so would require reverse-engineering Netflix’s app, and that would violate Section 1201 of the DMCA, the CFAA, and eleventy-seven other horrible laws. Netflix’s lawyers would nuke you until the rubble bounced.

When Netflix was getting started, it could freely interoperate with the DVDs that the studios had put on the market. It could repurpose those DVDs in ways that the studios strenuously objected to. In other words, Netfix used adversarial interoperability (AKA Competitive Compatibility or ComCom) to launch its business:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

Today, Netflix is on the vanguard of the war to abolish adversarial interop. They helped lead the charge to pervert W3C web-standards, creating a DRM video standard called EME that made it a crime to build a full-featured browser without getting permission from media companies and restricting its functionality to their specifications:

https://blog.samuelmaddock.com/posts/the-end-of-indie-web-browsers/

When they used adversarial interoperability to build a multi-billion-dollar global company using the movie studios’ products in ways the studios hated, that was progress. When you define “family” in ways that makes Netflix less money, that’s felony contempt of business model.

[Image ID: A Victorian family tree template populated by tintypes of old-timey people. In the foreground stands a menacing, chainsaw-wielding figure, his face obscured by a hoodie. The blade of the chainsaw is poised to chop down the family tree. A Netflix 'N' logo has been superimposed over the man's face.]

#pluralistic #enshittification #shitty technology adoption curve #cpcm #interoperabiltiy #comcom #adversarial interoperability #interop #netflix #family #ambiguity #digitizatio #nym wars #authorized domain #dvb #dvds #password sharing

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theculturedmarxist · 1 year

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In photos of 2023’s World Economic Forum- or Davos as it is commonly called, after the Swiss resort town where it annually occurs- you might not notice the HEPA filters. They’re in the background, unobtrusive and unremarked upon, quietly cleansing the air of viruses and bacteria. You wouldn’t know- not unless you asked- that every attendee was PCR tested before entering the forum, or that in the case of a positive test, access was automatically, electronically, revoked. And if you happened to get a glimpse of the strange blue lights overhead, you could reasonably assume that their glow was simply a modern aesthetic choice, not the calming buzz of cutting edge Far UVC technology- demonstrated to kill microbes in the air.

It’s hard to square this information with the public narrative about COVID, isn’t it? President Biden has called the pandemic “over”. The New York Times recently claimed that “the risk of Covid is similar to that of the flu” in an article about “hold outs” that are annoyingly refusing to accept continual reinfection as their “new normal”. Yet, this week the richest people in the world are taking common sense, easy- but strict- precautions to ensure they don’t catch Covid-19 at Davos.

These common sense, easy precautions include high-quality ventiliation, use of Far UVC-lighting technology, and PCR testing. You’ll also see some masks at Davos, but generally, the testing + air filtration protocol seems to be effective at preventing the kind of super-spreader events most of us are now accustomed to attending.

It seems unlikely to me that a New York Times reporter will follow the super-rich around like David Attenborough on safari, the way one of their employees did when they profiled middle-class maskers last month. I doubt they will write “family members and friends can get a little exasperated by the hyper-concern” about the assembled Prime Ministers, Presidents and CEOs in Switzerland. After all, these are important people. The kind of people who merit high-quality ventilation. The kind of people who deserve accurate tests.

Why is the media so hellbent on portraying simple, scientifically proven measures like high-quality ventilation as ridiculous and unnecessary as hundreds of people continue to die daily here in the US?

Why is the public accepting a “new normal” where we are expected to get infected over and over and over again, at work events with zero precautions, on airplanes with no masks, and at social dinners trying to approximate our 2019 normal?

We deserve better. We deserve to be #DavosSafe as the hashtag going around on twitter puts it. Your children deserve to be treated with the care that world leaders are treating each other. Your family deserves to be protected from the disease which is still- unlike the flu- the third leading cause of death in the US. We don’t deserve to be shoved back into poorly ventilated workplaces while our politicians and press assure us that only crazy people would demand to breathe clean air.

Clean water and clean food are rights we fought for; we have regulatory bodies that ensure we aren’t exposed to pathogens via our water supply nor our food. In 1854, John Snow famously conducted his Broad Street Pump study in London and demonstrated that cholera was water-bourne; however, it took decades for our public policy to catch up with our scientific knowledge.

A public health case study published by the NBCI describes the years that followed:

The first use of chlorine as a disinfectant for water facilities was in 1897 in England. The first use of this method for municipal water facilities in the United States was in Jersey City, New Jersey, and Chicago, Illinois, in 1915. Other cities followed and the use of chlorination as standard treatment for water disinfection rapidly grew. During the 20th century, death rates from waterborne diseases decreased significantly, and although other additional factors contributed to the general improvements in health (such as sanitation, improved quality of life, and nutrition), the improvement of water quality was, without doubt, a major reason.

Forty-three years passed from the initial demonstration that pathogens were being spread via water, and public action and regulation to halt disease.

Can you imagine, in the 1890s, being somebody who argued against cleaning the water?

Can you imagine, in those years of plentiful cholera, calling the people who demanded shit-free water “hold outs”?

One thing COVID realists are accused of is being “doomsayers” and “fearmongers,” so let me share a dose of optimism about the future with you. When we choose- whenever we choose- to get COVID under control, there’s an exciting new world awaiting us. One, not only without constant COVID reinfection, but where our kids can grow up free of colds, flus, RSV, and many other common bugs. And no, contrary to what you may have heard, staying healthy (shockingly enough) is not bad for children!

Once we choose to institute ventilation standards and introduce new technologies like Far UVC lighting- and embrace masking as an easy, kind, and useful tool to control outbreaks- we can bring every nasty airborne pathogen under control the way we did cholera. We didn’t have the science before; now we do. (I mean that quite literally; I can’t recommend enough the linked Wired article cataloguing the long journey to establishing that Covid is, indeed, airborne).

We face a stark choice; down one road, the one with zero infrastructure upgrades, no air quality regulations, and Covid safety only for those who can afford it, you and your family will get Covid this year. You will get Covid next year. You will continue to get Covid over and over and over again, as the health problems - like cardiac damage, viral persistance, and immune system dysfunction- continue to build up. (The billionaires, of course, will not).

Down the other road, we quite simply treat ourselves the way Davos would. We engage with what the science is telling us and we build a safer, better world for our kids. We embrace the lessons this pandemic is teaching us, and let go of things we now know are harming people. We stop clinging desperately to the idea that 2019 will come back if we just get the virus one more time, and we come together to achieve what we’ve been told is impossible: elimination.

The economic elite thrive on our divisiveness and blame casting. They don’t mind that we’re calling each other names, engaging in racial stereotyping, or leaving disabled people to die, so long as we keep their machine running. But we can choose to stop throwing blame at each other, and direct it where it belongs: at the powerful people who’ve left us to suffer, at the politicians who are whipping people into a frenzy over masks instead of over our millions of dead, at the talking heads on TV that work so hard to convince us: you want to get sick. It’s better than being a *weirdo* or a *hold out*.

We needn’t wait 43 years to redirect our energies. France and Belgium have already introduced new air quality standards, and DIY projects to build Corsi-Rosenthal boxes for schools and healthcare settings have popped up around the country. We have the science, we have the technology. All we need now is the political will and the solidarity to truly end the pandemic- the kind of solidarity the super rich always show with one another.

The billionaires at Davos don’t accept continual Covid reinfection. They demand better. It’s time we demand better too.

#covid #covid 19 #covid prevention #davos world economic forum #world economic forum #forever covid

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fangirl-dot-com · 19 days

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🌑Track 3 - Big Reputations

guys, I was so proud of this chapter and then the instagram post. I always try to make them look cohesive and that the pictures were taken all together - and I think I was able to do that really well this time!

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Oscar huffed while looking at the notification from the WhatsApp. Apparently two new numbers had been added in the past hour. However, no one has said anything. He opened the app and began to type, before he pressed the delete button.

What was he supposed to say?

Liam and Theo had been added weeks ago. The atmosphere of the group chat was a bit lighter with the two new additions. Despite what he had said in an interview a couple of months ago, the group chat did have a random meme or quirky text thrown around from time to time. The two new drivers had made themselves known immediately. Yet, these two “drivers” had yet to say anything.

Oscar’s eyebrows scrunched at the two unknowns invading the safe space. His apartment was quite empty. Lily wasn’t able to join him for the last few days of break. He was technically supposed to be packing to head to Bahrain in the morning, but he couldn’t find the want or energy to actually start.

He would have called Lando, but the Briton was already busy with Quadrant things. He thought about texting Logan, but immediately shut the idea down. The American had probably gotten a new number, since Oscar’s messages weren’t even delivered. And the sight of Logan’s Instagram being deactivated also meant that he didn’t want to be found in the first place.

Oscar’s heart clenched weirdly at the thought. How had they gone from being best friends to not even talking anymore.

To Oscar, it hurt. The Aussie was trying to justify his own acts against the American. If Logan had been just a bit more extroverted, or had done a better job at driving, or had actually tried to reach out, then maybe Oscar wouldn’t have distanced himself.

But then again, he had multiple unanswered texts and missed calls from Logan that he ignored.

Another notification had him glancing back down at his phone.

This time, George had taken the initiative to welcome to two, still unknown, rookies. The “hi, welcome to the grid” text was a standard for everyone who joined. His fingers itched to also welcome them, but he stopped himself and looked closer at the two contacts.

Racer #2 and Racer #95.

Oscar sighed at the sight of the familiar number. He guessed that someone had been wanting to take that number since Logan was no longer racing.

However, he just wondered who they were and why they didn’t use their real names. The answer came from the #95.

“What?” Oscar whispered to himself as he read over the text. Lamborghini didn’t want them using their names until they showed up at testing. How ridiculous it was in Oscar’s mind. He watched as Liam tried to make conversation with #95, asking if their number was a nod to the famous Cars movie.

Liam didn’t get a reply.

The Aussie had a bad gut feeling. Maybe this was all a joke. They could try to be civil, and maybe freaking answer? Oscar did not like the vibes he was getting from the two.

He didn’t even know if they were both males.

He had heard rumors that Lamborghini was looking at a possible female candidate. But that what they were supposed to be: just rumors. He cleared the app and opened the messages icon on his iPhone. George’s contact is what he pressed and immediately opened a call.

His phone rang for a moment before the Briton picked up.

“Hello mate,” George’s voice sounded from the phone.

“Hi George. I just wanted to ask about the two new numbers.”

“Ah the new drivers for Lamborghini?”

Oscar nodded before he realized that George was not on Facetime. “Yes.”

George sighed. “From what I got, they’re legit drivers. However, I got an email directly from Michael saying that Tonino wanted his drivers’ identities to not be compromised before testing.”

“Ah, well, I just didn’t want to say anything to them before I knew they were legitimate. It’s kind of weird.”

“I understand. It’s weird to see that someone else is going to use Logan’s old number.”

Oscar could hear, what was it, a touch of sadness in George’s voice? Why would he be sad?

“I meant that it’s weird that they don’t want their names to be known. I mean, it’s just a number George, I’m not upset about that.”

The Mercedes driver made noise.

“But it’s Logan’s number.”

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Well, if Logan wanted to keep it, he should have been a better driver.”

The line went silent, and Oscar really thought that George might have hung up. A quick glance to the screen told him otherwise.

“You don’t truly believe that, do you? Logan tried to hard.”

Oscar bit out, “Well, it wasn’t enough. He should have done better, been better. Maybe then I could still stand him. Thanks for your help George.”

With that, the Aussie hung up before George could even answer. He was furious. If Logan truly wanted to stay in F1, he should have done better and that was that. No need to be butthurt over someone who wasn’t going to be in his life anymore.

On the other side of London, George was still looking at his phone screen after Oscar hung up. But, the Briton was staring at the Driver #2’s WhatsApp number. His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to memorize the digits.

“What are you staring at?” Lewis sounded as he sat on George’s couch.

Oh, George kind of forgot that he was there.

The tall Briton didn’t answer as he opened his own messaging app and went directly to Logan’s new contact. The last message had been read but went unanswered. And that was almost a month ago.

But, as he stared at the info tab and the number he had down for Logan and then at the number for Driver #2, the digits matched up.

George’s eyes widened before he looked up at Lewis and smirked.

“How do you feel about the two new drivers?”

Lewis shrugged. “A bit stand-off-ish. But I understand, they were only added today.”

The brunet took a seat across from his older teammate and faux sighed.

“I’m just worried that the rookies are going to not be included. Ya know, like what happened with Logan.”

Lewis put a hand on George’s shoulder.

The man looked at him with big brown eyes. “It wasn’t your fault George. Williams had this planned for a long time. There was nothing you could do.”

George stood up immediately and threw his hands.

“But I could have been a better friend. He was struggling Lewis and no one did anything. Oscar was too busy making eye-babies with Lando to notice that his friend was falling. Alex was being an asshole. And no one else took the time to even get to know him, and now he’s gone.”

On the inside, George was congratulating himself on the performance that he was putting on. Of course he knew that driver #2 was Logan. And, he was guessing that driver #95 was possible that best friend that Logan spoke so highly of, the female ex-driver or Arrow.

Lewis stayed seated. “I know you’re upset George, but it won’t change anything in the past. All we can focus on is the future. I know for one that I will do my best to get to know the rookies so we don’t have another issue like last year. I know you’re not focusing on the chat but it looks like Max and Charles have been able to get a few answers out of them.”

George looked back down at his phone to see multiple notifications from WhatsApp. It looks like Lewis was telling the truth.

Multiple messages had been exchanged between the two rivals and the unknown numbers, well, unknown to everyone but him. George smirked.

“Looks like the rivals can get along.”

Lewis snorted. “I guess they also want to try to be a bit more welcoming. We can all learn from our mistakes last season.”

The shorter Briton looked down, slightly getting emotional. Lewis knew first-hand how detrimental Formula 1 was to childhood best friends. His own heart still hurt to see Nico on the weekends that he was there. He felt guilty that he let Brocedes happen once again with Logan and Oscar.

For a short time, George had been irate with Lewis about the switch to Ferrari. But now, seeing what happened with Logan last season, George didn’t want to miss precious moments with his friend.

George never responded to what Lewis said. He only sat down again, across from the couch, and sent a simple text to Logan.

Back in Milan, you and Logan were cackling over messing with the other drivers. You could tell that no one knew what to do with the secrecy of identities. But now that you were in a banter with Charles over ice cream flavors and Logan was having a deep conversation about air pollution with Max, the group chat seemed a little less daunting.

A ping from Logan’s phone had the two of you looking at it. Logan hadn’t expected a text from George after leaving him on read months ago. But now, the new messaged seemed to stare back at them.

All the message said was “Glad to see you back. Let me know when you get to Bahrain for testing.”

Logan winced as he forgot he had the same number for both iMessages and WhatsApp. You could definitely tell that he was spiraling. You placed a hand on his arm.

“Hey, Michael isn’t going to be upset. He knows that you and George are friends.”

A sigh of relief escaped his lips.

“I’m just so scared of messing up again.”

You rolled your eyes. “Logan, you didn’t mess up the first time. It wasn’t your fault.”

Your body leaned back, expecting Logan to retaliate. Except, the American only smiled at you, taking in your words.

“You’re right.”

You pushed his shoulder. “Like always.”

Instagram was pulled up on your phone. You refreshed the page to show that Lamborghini had posted something about the two of you. Your fingers quickly scrolled through the comments while you smirked at all the fan theories.

You pipped up as Logan sipped on a smoothie.

“Looks like everyone is talking about us.”

The man across from you smirked back. “But they don’t even know it’s us. I kind of like it. No one knows and can’t say anything. They just know that something big is happening. Also, George wants to meet up when we get to Bahrain.”

“You texted him back?” You never looked up from your phone, now scrolling through twitter.

“Yeah. George was actually the only one that was nice to me on a regular basis. I miss him.”

“Sounds like fun. I’m glad you had George last season. Are we going to play paddle?”

The typing sounds came from Logan’s phone as he texted George. A ping signaled that he answered.

“Yeah. Looks like Lewis, Max, and Charles might join.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like peculiar bunch?”

Logan shrugged. “I mean, Lewis is going to be Charles’s teammate next year. And then anywhere Charles goes, Max isn’t too behind.”

“Makes sense. Kind of like us?”

Logan sent you a lopsided smile. “Like us, except we aren’t childhood rivals.”

“Of course. Only because we never karted together.”

A sigh left Logan’s lips. He always wished you could have karted with him, but you were off in the Italian divisions while Logan stuck in the British divisions. However, the summers the two of you spent together in Florida would always trump the times apart.

Logan got lost in thought before he spoke again.

“Do you even know how to play paddle?”

A snort left your lips. “Of course. Maybe I’ll bring the one you sent me with your face on it.”

Red flushed Logan’s face. “Please don’t.”

“What would you do about it Mr. Sargeant?”

Logan just picks up one of the decorative pillows from the couch and chucks it at your head. You do not have time to react and it ends up hitting you square in the face. Your mouth lets out a squawk before you pick the pillow back up. You rise from the plush chair and stalk toward Logan, who has put his hands up to deter you.

“Please have mercy! I didn’t mean it.”

You stopped for a bit, giving Logan some false hope and enough time for him to put his hands down before you swing the pillow, hitting the side of his head. Logan splutters before reaching out and pulling you down on top of him.

The two of you tussle for a bit before Marissa walks into the room. She chuckles as she watched the two of you roll on the floor, both tugging on the pillow.

“I don’t even want to ask.”

The sound of her voice makes the two of you freeze. Your heads slowly turn toward her, before the two of you scramble to get up. You mock dust yourself off as Logan awkwardly chuckles.

Marissa cocks an eyebrow. “If the two of you are done, it’s time for the suit and helmet promo pictures along with some circuit testing.”

You and Logan have giant grins on your face as the two of you follow her out. Logan elbows you before walking quickly to Marissa’s side. You gawk at him before shaking your head.

Logan was going to be the death of you. But you’d let him.

At the test track, you were smiling behind your helmet as you watched Logan go lap after lap. The helmet was just a standard black one with multiple different sponsor logos on it, as well as the Lambo one being the biggest. You and Logan had worn them while walking into the circuit, just in case there were any cameras or paparazzi around. The last thing you wanted was to be outed before testing.

You watched as Logan finally pulled in, the car looking fast.

Logan’s hands automatically went to take his helmet off as a force of habit, but he quickly put them down. Like you, he also didn’t want to outed.

Marissa beckoned the two of you over.

“All right, that looks good for Logan. Y/n you’ll run 15 laps and then you’re done for today. I’ve already talked to Michael and he’s fine with the two of you playing paddle. He’s rented out a building for the day, just in case, but he wants the two of you to have fun. The flight you need to catch is early at 5 am. Please be on time.”

As you and Logan were running to the gate the next morning, you should have headed Marissa’s warnings a bit more. The two of you were huffing and puffing by the time you got to the lounge, with only 15 minutes to spare. Many older, fancy-looking people gave you weird looks. You tried to smile at them, but it came out as more as a grimace.

You were able to catch a few hours of sleep while Logan went over some more data. He was always the one to go over things like that, trying to find the sweet spot of the car. Logan had done the same at Williams, but it rarely made a difference. He had just found the perfect balance of the car in Austin last year, and then they made him switch with Alex. And then he didn’t even get his car back. The rebuilt chassis was terrible.

Logan smiled to himself as he felt the familiar weight of your head on his shoulder. He barely turned and kissed the top of your head. A blush ran through his face as you leaned more into him, trying to snuggle closer.

Benny was watching with a small smile as he saw Logan place his head on top of yours. The older man had sworn that he wouldn’t be returning. But the moment Michael had reached out with an offer than he couldn’t refuse, he accepted it without hesitation. He would do anything for Logan. His wife was also very understanding and was thankful for the compensation that Lamborghini was going to provide for her family. Logan was like their eldest son, and they couldn’t, wouldn’t, let him down again.

You were still pretty tired on the way to the hotel, but were now buzzing with energy as Logan drove you to the paddle courts. He was driving one of the company’s Lamborghini Urus since your Aventador and his Huracan hadn’t been able to be shipped in time. They were done and ready to be driven when they shipped them to Jeddah.

Logan had given you the DJ privileges for this ride, but he claimed it on the way back. You were going through his phone, letting George know that the two of you would be the first to arrive. He texted back that him, Lewis, Max, and Charles would all arrive together. You thumbed up the text, after telling him to give him Logan’s last name at the counter so that they could be let in.

George was smirking in the Mercedes that Lewis was currently driving. Charles and Max were banned to the back seat (yet they claimed they wanted to be back there because they couldn’t afford to be caught riding in a Mercedes).

Once they parked, he turned his body to face the group.

“Now, I’m going to give the front a last name so that we can get in, but do not overreact, ok?”

The lanky-Briton didn’t wait for an answer before he got out of the car. He could feel the presence of the three drivers and held the door open. The lady at the front stared at them weirdly. George watched as she opened her mouth to speak, but he interrupted her.

“We’re a part of the group that’s playing today.”

“Name please?”

The lady typed something on her computer.

George smiled. “Sargeant.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw heads whip toward him, but he decided to ignore the shocked looks as well.

Typing resumed as he tapped the desk, a bit impatient to see his friend after a while. A grin grew on her face as she finally looked up at him.

“Court 3. Extra paddles are in the small boxes if you don’t have any. Enjoy your time.”

George took the initiative and led the group around the corner. Lewis tugged on his sleeve, but he didn’t stop, not when he heard the familiar laugh.

The door squeaked as he opened it, letting the figure in the room notice the arrival of the group of four. George’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of Logan.

To him, the American had filled out a lot. He often looked too skinny during race weekends, especially after Benny left. The Briton wanted to ask him about his nutrition but had always been nervous to. He was also more tan that he had been. His hair looked fluffy and there were no more purple eyebags under his eyes. Overall, he just looked so much better than end of the 2023 season Logan. Where had the sick child gone and who was this man in front of George? The brunet thought for a moment that he had been played, until Logan started walking toward him.

“Mate, are you going to ogle or are you going to say something?” Logan asked as he stepped toward George, arm stretched out.

He clasped George’s hand and pulled him into a hug. Once the bro-moment was done, George still kept looking at Logan.

“You look good mate.”

Logan’s head leaned back as he laughed.

“Thanks.”

It was then he noticed that the other three drivers had yet to move from the door. Their eyes were still wide and looking at the duo. Logan smirked as he saw you sneak up behind them.

“Hi guys!” you semi-yelled, making them jump. Your giggle sounded in the big court. That was the icebreaker that they needed as they finally walked into the room. You immediately stood next to Logan as he introduced you.

You rolled your eyes and elbowed Logan. “I know their names. We had good conversations about how chocolate is the best ice cream flavor. Isn’t that right Charles?”

Charles had a pout on his lips. “I said no such thing. I believe we agreed that vanilla was the best non?”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure.”

Max raised his hand. “You are both wrong. The best flavor is clearly mint chocolate chip.”

You all just deadpanned at him.

“It’s true.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Logan, you don’t have an opinion when your favorite is literally the Superman flavor.”

“Shut up Y/n.”

“Are we going to play paddle now?”

“Yes Lewis, we’ll play paddle.”

It was quiet for a moment until you yelled, “I call Charles as a teammate.”

Logan and Max whipped toward you.

“That’s just unfair.”

“I’m leading, he pushed me, I pushed him back, and after, he pushed me off the track. It’s just unfair.”

Logan followed your lead. “Charles, what happened with Max?”

“Nothing just an inchident on the race.”

“That’s it. Lewis is my teammate.”

“Back off Leclerc. You have him for next year, he’s mine.”

“What if I wanted Lewis?”

“Max, you win every race. You can lose at paddle.”

“Ok, but I still get Charles right?”

georgerussell63 has posted

tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, lewishamilton, venus2, and phoenix95

georgerussell63 going into the season strong 💪 (max lost)

liked by phoenix&venus, y/n.nation, venus2, and 3,204,184 others

russellgeorge oh we are so back (I'm delusional)

mercganggang WRITE IT DOWN WRITE IT DOWN

lambof1 hold on - GEORGE KNOWS WHO THEY ARE??

lamborghini_duo we've been known 🙃

phoenix95 glad to see verstappen on his knees - I'm taking his emotional support rival tho

maxverstappen1 uh, exCUSE me 🤨 get your own emotional support rival

venus2 do I mean nothing to you?

charles_leclerc you don't like vanilla so I refuse

maxverstappen1 Charlie I like vanilla

lewishamilton this is so pitiful to watch 🤦🏾

russell63 George really said "I'm getting the band back together"

sargeantgirlie ok - I think I have everything figured out

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @disneyprincemuke @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

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ellecdc · 6 days

Text

Our Baby Has Four Feet?

poly!moonwater x pregnant!reader who find out they're having twins

CW: pregnancy, ultrasounds etc. I didn’t see either of the boys recovering from this advance the twins had on them - but I’m still dying that we could not decide who we’d prefer to be the bio dad hahahaha

This was the second moment in your pregnancy that you were convinced that Wizardingkind’s claim at being further advanced than muggles was completely unfounded. A simple charm cast on you at St. Mungo’s confirmed that you were, indeed, pregnant. But it was a muggle blood test at a walk-in clinic that told you how far along you were.

So, when Lily told you, Remus, and Regulus that she went to a muggle OBGYN for ultrasounds during her pregnancy with Harry, the boys were obsessed with the idea of getting to see the little life growing inside of you.

You found a clinic that was was understanding of your…unique lifestyle, and sat in a small room waiting for the doctor after being checked in by a nurse.

“Regulus, please stop pacing.” You said quietly, repositioning yourself on the uncomfortable medical bed and wincing when the paper tore beneath you.

“Sorry.” He mumbled quickly as he sat down on one of the chairs, trapping his hands underneath him as if that would help his nervous fidgeting.

“It’s going to be fine, bubs. This is standard; my mum had one done when she was pregnant with me.” Remus placated.

“Okay…okay, so it’s not invasive?”

You laughed. “Reggie, nothing happens. They just touch a camera to my belly and it shows what’s inside.”

Regulus blanched at that. “Will the baby feel it?”

Neither you nor Remus got to answer (or laugh at him) when the door opened and a Doctor wearing a bright smile entered the room.

“Hello! You must be our mama?” She asked as she extended a hand to you, carrying on at your nod in affirmation.

“My name is Doctor Bozelli. So, we’re here for an ultrasound?”

You nodded and looked towards Remus. “We’re about 19 weeks along now. This is our first ultrasound and our first pregnancy so we’re all a little new at this.” He explained to the doctor

“Well mazel tov! Alright; and are we finding out the sex of the baby?”

“I am, they won’t be.” You answered, causing the doctor’s face to spread into a cheeky smile.

“Okay, dads are leaving it as a surprise, got it. Okay mama, lean back for me and raise your top.”

You did as instructed as the doctor sanitized her hands and donned a pair of medical gloves.

“Alright, I’m just going to pull these down a little lower and tuck a sheet in so we don’t get gel on your trousers.”

You had no time to feel self conscious at so much of your midsection showing with an audience of three before the doctor was shaking a bottle of ultrasound gel.

“Now, this is going to feel cold, okay?” She said as she hovered it over your stomach.

“It’s not going to hurt her, is it?” Regulus asked hastily, earning him a none-too-gentle elbow in the side from Remus.

“Ignore him; I do.” You offered the doctor, voice coloured in embarrassment.

“Everything is perfectly safe, dad.” She placated as she spread the - sure enough - cold gel over your stomach and placed the doppler over the area.

The room was quiet as the doctor searched for…well, you supposed the baby, though there really wasn’t anywhere for them to hide.

“This is your first ultrasound you said?” The doctor queried, causing Regulus to stand up quickly.

“Yes.” You offered at the same time as Regulus barked “what’s wrong?”

The doctor chuckled before she responded. “Nothing’s wrong dad. Look.”

She turned the screen towards the three of you and both boys learned further overtop of you to get a better look.

“I….I’m so sorry but what are we supposed to be looking at?” Remus said; braver than you and Reg to admit you had no idea what was going on.

“See here?” The doctor said as she pointed to two little blobs that you could almost feel pushing into your stomach. “These are a pair of feet.”

The doctor was interrupted by the sound of Remus ‘awe’-ing before she continued.

“And these here are another pair.”

The room fell painfully silent as the three of you stared at the monitor.

“Our baby has four feet?” Regulus breathed out in disbelief.

The doctor chuckled as she moved the doppler slightly and pointed out something else on the screen. “Well, seeing as there are two heartbeats; I’d reckon it’s less that one baby has four feet and more that there are two babies.”

“Two heartbeats?” Remus breathed out.

“One of them’s mine, right?” You asked nervously.

The teasing that the doctor’s face had when speaking with Regulus and Remus fell into a more serious expression as she smiled at you. “No, mum. We wouldn’t see the fluttering of your pulse down here.”

The room stayed silent as the doctor moved the camera over your stomach; snapping screenshots every so often as she went.

“Twins?”

The doctor hummed in confirmation at Remus’ question as she took a few more pictures.

“One appears to be smaller than the other though, which would suggest they were not conceived at the same time.”

Regulus choked on air as he began pacing again. “Can’t one just be smaller than the other?” He asked; his voice taking on an almost shrill quality.

“Not when the size difference is this dramatic, no. One of the twins is younger, I’d say by perhaps two weeks”

“Shut up.” You barked, causing all three heads to turn in your direction.

“Dove, it-”

“Shut up. No, one of the heartbeat’s is mine.”

“Amour, try to take some deep breaths, yeah?” Reg tried as he put a gentle hand on your ankle.

You kicked at him.

“Don’t touch me. Did Sirius put you up to this?” You asked the doctor severely.

“S…Serious?”

“My brother; he’s a prankster.” Regulus explained at the doctors confusion.

“No mama, this isn’t a prank. It’s called superfetation; though rare, your body can release two or more eggs during the same menstrual cycle, which can then be fertilized at different points.” She explained as if she were reciting notes from her medical student’s textbook.

You stared unseeingly at the monitor that displayed not one, but two of your future children as Remus and Regulus continued asking questions.

“Are both of them healthy?” Regulus asked first, to which the doctor agreed quickly.

“The younger one seems to be developing normally; their sibling hasn’t been strong-holding them for space or nutrients.”

“What can we expect from this type of pregnancy?” Remus asked.

“Does this increase certain risks for mum or babies?” Regulus added.

“Oh, Merlin.” You breathed quietly, covering your face with your hands.

Remus’ hand was quickly on your shoulder, and whatever had compelled you to kick out at Regulus before was long gone as you turned towards Remus; his hand feeling like a grounding point keeping you from floating off into oblivion.

“I’ll give you guys a few moments, okay?” The doctor asked quietly and excused herself after passing you some paper towel for the gel on your stomach.

You let out an embarrassing hiccup as you pulled the cloth from your trousers, but Regulus’ hands were quickly taking over the task for you.

Remus had one hand on your shoulder and the other cradling your head as his thumb strokes at the baby hairs near your temple, allowing you to silently cry.

Unfortunately, the gentle and loving way Regulus cleaned your stomach and righted your clothing only made you cry harder.

“Come on, sit up dove.” Remus encouraged as he pulled you up by your arms.

Once you were sat upright, he was crouching down in front of you as Regulus moved behind you, wrapping his arms around your midsection - hands landing protectively over your growing stomach - as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“That was quite the news, huh?” Remus asked quietly as he drew circles with his thumb on your thigh.

You nodded your head yes as new tears fell.

“But sweetheart, you’ve grown two healthy babies and you didn’t even know it. You’re doing a wonderful job.” Regulus insisted, voice muffled as he pressed his lips into your jaw.

“I know this is more than we bargained for, but I think we can manage between the three of us, yeah?” Remus offered, causing Regulus to scoff.

“Please, we won’t be able to keep their aunts and uncles away.”

You chuckled wetly at that as you wiped at your face. “Can we not tell them?”

“Tell who what, amour?”

“I don’t want to tell anyone it’s twins; let’s just surprise them.”

Regulus scoffed as Remus let out a boisterous laugh. “Absolutely mischievous dove, I love it. This is the best prank the Marauders will never see coming.”

“It would be nice to see my brother struck dumb.” Regulus mused.

“Then it’s settled.” Remus murmured, pressing his ear to your stomach. “Our babies will be born pranksters.”

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yanaromanov · 1 month

Text

pretty little beginnings

- professor!natasha x lawyer!wanda x reader

part summary: the start of the new semester sees you reunited with your best friend, kate, but also introduces you to your surprisingly gorgeous new professor. when you get a perfect score on her first class test, she’s keen to have a conversation with you…

part warning(s): teacher/student relationship, age gap (r is of age), power dynamics, married wandanat (no cheating), pet names, mentions of anxiety, mentions of bad family relations, reader is a perfectionist, minors dni.

authors note: i have no idea about america or their universities so am purely basing this off my own experience at my uk university, so if anything is incorrect i apologise but also let’s just pretend it’s not :)

part one of the inescapable love series

inescapable love masterlist

･｡ﾟ*. 18+, minors DNI . * ｡ﾟ･

7.8K words

The beginning of term was always one of your favourite points of the whole year. To most, returning to campus after summer was somewhat of a bittersweet moment, having to come back to the reality of long classes and endless studying. For you, however, it was the start of something new, a fresh look at different courses that hadn’t yet bundled up into countless assignments or exams. The start of term always carried the least amount of pressure and therefore, the least amount of anxiety. Everything was starting from page one again, and it always provided you with a few weeks of sweet relief before you’d once again inevitably realise just how stressful school truly was.

Aside from the pressure of classes, most of your peers also found sorrow in the end of their summer break visiting home and their families. For you, however, this wasn’t one of your mind’s concerns. In fact, the trip back to university provided solace, a well-deserved partition between the people who you’d spent the past few months trying to tolerate.

Now, to say your family were awful to be around would be overstating things, in truth they weren’t all that bad, but spending summer with them was certainly not on your list of dream holidays. Most days you hid away in your childhood bedroom, trying to avoid the bickering voice of your mother, persistently droning on about school and your grades. She’d always taken a great pride in her children and that had certainly extended to you, her ideologies of perfection constantly looming over your shoulder. Your dad liked to drink, not enough to endanger his health but enough to wake you a few nights a week when he’d stumble around the kitchen in a drunken stupor. This itself was rather a hypocrisy, your dad being the one who dragged everyone to church on a Sunday morning to praise the Christian values when it seemed the holy day was the only one he didn’t seek out the bottle. At least now you were thankful that Sunday was the only day you had to deal with your older brother, when he’d join the rest of your family at service. For years, his perfection had been a constant reminder of how you were the disappointing child, despite attending one of the most prestigious universities in America.

In fact, your family was one of the main reasons you had even applied there. Not, as one may think, to appeal to their standards, but in fact, because it was about as far away as possible you could get from them. England was your home country, growing up in a small town in the southern parts of the land. Moving to America had been a big deal, having to completely relocate your life to an entirely different part of the world, but it had been something you desperately needed. At first your mother had been hesitant to let you go at all, but once she’d heard the ranking of the school you’d earned a scholarship for, she was all for having a daughter at a prestigious university in the states.

So, that was how you ended up here, already three years into your university career with only one to go until graduation. Living in America had been just the step you’d needed, finally giving you space from your overbearing family and in the process, also gifting you with one of the closest friends you’d ever had. Kate had been the first friendly face you’d seen at your new school, smiling widely as you’d first stepped into your shared dorm and energetically shaking your hand. Ever since, the pair of you had been practically inseparable, growing closer and closer everyday, and three years later, you still found yourselves sharing a dorm room.

Despite Kate’s skills in friendship, there was one thing about her that one may call a character flaw; the inability to ever wake up on time. It was the first official day of the semester, a few weeks having passed since the two of you had had your happy reunion and redecorated your shared room. The sun shone through the curtains which you had opened almost an hour ago. In all honesty, it was quite impressive how Kate had managed to not only sleep through your alarm, but hers as well. Atop of that, you’d not taken the curtesy to get yourself ready in a quiet manner. Now however, Kate really needed to wake up.

A tress of black hair flew up in the gust of wind that the pillow brought along with it. Moments later, Kate was sitting up quickly, cursing out at you for throwing at her in the first place. You chuckled at her antics as she tried to wipe away the hairs clinging to her mouth. “You overslept, Bishop,” you called, voice light and playful.

Kate scowled back at you, finally free from the mess of her bed head. Seconds later, you were dodging the pillow flying back across the room towards you.

“Hey!” you called back, narrowly missing getting hit in the head. “You’re the one who told me to wake you up, remember? You said this was the year you were getting your shit together.”

Kate’s expression was nothing short of unimpressed. She let out a loud groan as she threw herself back down into the confines of her bed, bringing her hands up to hold her face. “Can we reschedule that to next year instead?”

The chuckle that left your lips was light. “You know there is no next year.”

Your hands reached out towards her, grabbing hold of her duvet and ripping it from her bed. A small scream escaped Kate’s lips as she desperately tried to rescue the cover, albeit she arose unsuccessful. You passed her a small smirk as you threw the duvet to the floor. “If you’re not ready in five minutes, I’m going for breakfast without you.”

The girl passed you a none-too-happy glare but eventually settled on rolling out of bed, groaning loudly as she fell ungraciously to the floor. Simply laughing off her antics, you moved towards the full length mirror that hung in your dorm to check your outfit one last time. The warm weather still clung to the September air, resulting in the floral summer dress you’d adorned for the day, a small white cardigan sat atop of it. As always, your worn-in converse sat upon your feet, tattered from the years they’d spent traversing you to class.

American weather was just another one of the things you loved about living in the states. Summer in England was sticky and gross, the house always too hot, lacking AC and unbearable to sleep in at night. You’d always end up tossing and turning, sweat sticking the shorts to your body. Every street smelled like disposable barbecues and there never seemed to be enough ice in the shops to cool your drink. Overall, it was a rather uncomfortable experience. But Summer in America was a whole different story. It felt like the movies when they’d jump out of school on the last day, sun shining down on top of them. It was warm outside, and you could enjoy the sun before slinking back to a cool room with beautiful air conditioning, rather than you’d dad’s old fan that was louder than an airplane flying overhead.

“Are you almost done?” You finally turned away from your reflection, glancing across the room to where Kate was pulling her hair up into a messy ponytail. She’d dressed in a pair of old shorts and tshirt, obviously forgoing the ritual you’d followed of dressing cute on the first day.

“Yep,” Kate replied breathlessly, moving to put on her trainers, hopping around the room as she pulled them on. Once they sat upon her feet, she stood upright and looked at you with a dopey smile. “Okay, let’s go.”

You smiled shamelessly back, opening the door to your dorm in order for the pair of you to venture out. Kate simply passed you a small thanks as she slipped out into the corridor, followed closely by you after locking up your room. Thankfully, most days you left together as Kate never seemed to remember that crucial step.

———

“Wait, so you’re actually taking Russian this year?”

Your eyes rolled as the question rung out. “Kate, we’ve talked about this so many times.”

The girl shrugged her shoulders. “I just don’t get why you’d take a random language, that’s all.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you watched Kate take a bite of some scrambled eggs. As she did most mornings, she’d chosen to load her plate up from the breakfast trays, paired perfectly with a full glass of orange juice and a large mug of coffee. On the other hand, you’d only had a slice of toast, simply buttered, then a coffee of a similar size that you’d already downed. For someone who liked to attend meals so close to classes, one would expect Kate to choose smaller portions that she could maybe finish without shoving it in her mouth two minutes before she had to leave.

“I told you, Kate,” you repeated with another sigh. “I had to pick up some credits and the only thing that fit with my timetable was either Russian or a programming class.”

Your face screwed up at the last words you uttered, the idea of such a thing enough to turn your nose up. Kate could have taken some offence, considering her major was computer science and she was in such programming class, but it seemed she was too focused on finishing her half-eaten eggs.

“I thought you said there was a Spanish class you could take?” Kate said, talking around a mouthful of food.

Your eyes rolled in your skull, not only at her actions but at the fact she’d only remembered that small detail of your previous conversation. “There was,” you replied, crossing your arms on the table. “But I just thought Russian sounded more interesting.”

Kate raised a brow as you shrugged a shoulder. She didn’t have much time to judge you however, as you checked your phone to see there was only a few minutes until your first classes. Kate scrambled to finish the food on her plate as you collected your things, downing the rest of her coffee before pulling her backpack on to her shoulders. In the end, she had to run after you out of the dining hall after you’d already left, not letting yourself be late because of her antics.

The pair of you walked across campus together, Kate branching off to her first class and promising to meet up at lunch. You continued on to the building in which your timetable indicated your Russian class would be held. It was all rather new to you, a building you’d never been in before on campus. You supposed it fit with the class that you’d be taking now, stepping into something entirely new.

Thankfully, you found the lecture hall quickly, not discouraged by your unfamiliar surroundings. A lot of the seats were already filled up, the class just a few minutes from starting. You found a space down near the front, a usual spot for you in your determination to never miss anything a lecturer was saying, persistent on never having a blank spot in your notes.

The remaining minutes passed as you set yourself up for the class, pulling out your notebook and pen and setting them neatly on the desktop. Remaining students filed in, filling up what had to be one of the smaller lecture theatres on campus. It seemed there were barely thirty students who had decided to take the class, a small number compared to your usual large English lit course.

Noise bubbled in the room as the clock ticked by. At the exact second the hour struck, a door to the left opened wide.

“Good morning. If you could all settle down now, please. I need to take attendance.”

All attention fell upon the person who walked through the door, silence befalling the room as their voice echoed through the hall. As your eyes lifted from the scribbles on your notebook, they too sought out your new professor, but what they found was certainly not what you had been expecting at all.

The woman that approached the desk at the centre of the room was perhaps the most gorgeous you’d ever seen. Her hair fell perfectly in cascading curls, a brilliant red draped across her back. She wore a pair of black slacks, paired with a light blue dress shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. Her heels clicked meticulously across the polished wood as she set a laptop down at the centred desk, opening it up and glancing down at the screen.

It seemed you were not the only person affected by this woman’s presence as the entire hall fell silent as she began to call register. Most professors at this school were old men, droning on about things tirelessly. Even when presented with a female professor, none ever compared to the power and lure that this woman seemed to radiate across the class.

Once she’d finished calling names and assured everyone was marked down correctly, the red-haired woman moved towards the front of her desk, leaning back against it as a pair of arms came to cross over her chest. Your eyes found particular interest in the very expensive looking watch that sat upon her left wrist.

“Okay, my name is Professor Romanoff, as you have probably seen on your timetables. I will be your teacher for this class on introductory Russian.”

All ears seemed to be on the professor as she spoke, her voice confident in the space it held.

“I will start off by saying that this class is not easy so if you have taken it for that reason, I suggest perhaps changing.”

A tight smile appeared on a pair of red painted lips as the professor continued talking, the curtness behind it clear.

“This class is not impossibly difficult but it is certainly not a free ride. Anybody who treats it as such, is likely to fail.”

You weren’t sure what it was, maybe something in the air, but your attention seemed to cling to everything that fell out of the professors mouth, practically drinking up every word that she said. Your eyes found themselves particularly focused on her lips, adorning a shade of red so perfectly you even questioned if they were naturally that colour.

Professor Romanoff continued to rattle off expectations for the class, bringing up exam dates and testing styles before discussing an outline of everything the class would cover. Your pen jotted down everything she said, almost working faster than your brain could keep up, that ever persistent need to be perfect taking over once more, just like it did every time the new semester rolled back around.

Overall, the class seemed to be mostly an introduction. Professor Romanoff outlined specific topics you’d cover, before beginning to teach the difference between the English and Russian alphabets. Whatever it was she said, every word was jotted down into your notebook with persistent attentiveness.

The class seemed to pass by quickly, the order to pack up echoing out earlier than you thought it would, but with a quick glance at your phone, you realised that an entire hour had indeed passed. You tidied up your belongings, throwing them all into the old backpack you carried about everywhere, then got up to follow the crowd out of the lecture theatre. Your mind found itself satisfied with the enjoyment of the class, finding everything taught very interesting. Some part of you even found yourself somewhat excited for the next time you’d dawn the building and Professor Romanoff’s class.

———

“So how was it?”

Kate’s words were out of her mouth before you’d even sat down at the table, delayed in joining her by a few minutes due to your English professor droning on too long in his lecture. A sigh escaped your lips as you finally set yourself down at the dining table, throwing your backpack underneath as you looked over at your friend.

“How was what?”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Your Russian class,” she replied, as if it was the most obvious thing ever said.

“Oh, right,” you replied, reaching for the cutlery on your tray and using it to begin cutting the omelette you’d picked up for lunch. “It was good.”

Kate raised a brow, obviously more curious than your answer could satisfy. “Just good ?”

You nodded in response, raising a single shoulder. “Yeah, good. It was really interesting.”

Kate hummed, taking a bite of the chicken burger she’d chosen for lunch. Like she often did, the girl spoke around her food to ask you another question. “How was the professor? Some old Russian guy?”

Unsure of exactly why, it felt like your heart gave a little flutter when Kate mentioned the professor, maybe it had something to do with the way you’d spent most of the lesson staring at her and thinking how beautiful she was. “Uhm, no actually,” you replied, taking a small bite of your food. “It was a woman. Quite young looking too.”

Kate’s interest seemed to be piqued, a single brow raised. “How young?”

You shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know how young. Like, thirties? I don’t know.” You shrugged again, unsure of how exactly to answer her question.

The girl across from you hummed. You could tell why it was a suprise to her, it had been to you too when you’d first laid eyes on your new teacher. Most professors at this university were very good at what they did, but that often came with the experiences of age. A younger professor was an uncommon sight.

“What was her name?” Kate asked, still chewing another bite of her burger.

“Romanoff.”

Kate hummed. “And she was any good?”

“Yeah,” you replied lightly, trying not to think too hard about the way her red hair had formed perfect curls. “She seems a little strict but she’s a good teacher.”

“Well, that’s always good I suppose.”

From there, Kate seemed to become disinterested in the professor, instead moving on to discuss a cute girl she’d seen in her programming class. You’d asked more questions but the pair of you knew Kate would never do anything about any crush she had, she would get far too nervous and stumble over all of her words any time she tried to talk to anyone. Many times you’d watched her fail to flirt with someone drunkly at a party, accidentally blurting out something stupid that caused the other person to turn away. Each time you’d end up giving her a pat on the back and assuring her she’d get the next one, both of you secretly knowing it probably wasn’t true. Nevertheless, it was fun to fantasise about cute people you saw on campus and Kate often liked to share all the things she’d like to do with someone if she could actually talk to them.

Your conversation slowly passed on to other things, talking over activities you both did over summer, but sooner than you’d like, the time came for you to both head to your next classes. You both packed up your things, tidying away your lunch trays before heading out of the dining hall and across campus, Kate giving you a very dramatic goodbye before disappearing into her coding class and you slipped away to criminology, some part of your mind still clinging on to the idea of alabaster skin and perfect red curls.

———

The semester kicked off quickly and before you knew it, you were already three weeks in. Your time had been spent flitting between your classes, keeping consistent with your notes and readings. That fresh term feeling still resided within you, positivity and interest radiating through you in each of your courses. Though your creative writing class remained your favourite, your new Russian elective had quickly climbed the charts to take spot number two. Something about the language simply drew you in, perhaps how different it was to English, but every class seemed to suck you in entirely and leave you eagerly awaiting the next one.

Through Kate’s complaining, you were exceedingly glad that you didn’t pick her programming class, the professor apparently loading far too much work on his students. Though, you were never sure how much of the complaints could simply be down to Kate’s dramatics. The pair of you continued to spend your free moments in each other’s company, talking over every meal and studying in the library. You made the most of the disappearing sun, basking in the last of the summer warmth on the campus lawn, your head stuck in a book while Kate napped next to you.

You’d also easily picked up your part time job once more, the manager of the campus coffee shop reminded of your hard work the past three years. The job itself was usually rather tiring, filling up your weekends and free mornings, but it paid for your food so you knew it was a necessity. Thankfully, the lingering warmth had meant the shop had remained rather quite so far, not too many people racing for a hot coffee while the sun still shone down from above. Your experience however, let you know that in just another few weeks, you’d have to pick up the pace and things would get increasingly harder as the temperature began to drop. Yet, for now you basked in the calmness that the summer brought. But one person in particular seemed determined to change that.

Kate stumbled around the room, grabbing different outfits from the closet and trying them on, before deciding they were no good and tossing them on to the floor. She’d never been a very quiet person getting ready, usually singing along to whatever band she found interesting that month, but at that exact moment, you wished she’d sometimes find a slightly calmer routine.

Your head hurt, most likely from dehydration. It had been a long afternoon shift at the coffee shop and it seemed summer was giving everyone one grand goodbye, bringing the temperatures soaring and consequently, leaving you with a very sweaty shift. Now you were back in the dorm, showered and in some light pjs, hoping to finally get started on the work you’d been thinking about all day. But someone seemed destined to distract you. Your eyes fell to Kate, desperately trying to find a top to match the current skirt she was wearing. “I hope you’re gonna clean that up,” you said, glancing at the mess of clothes on the floor.

“‘Course I will,” Kate replied, pulling another top from a drawer. “Ugh, why does nothing look right!”

You glanced once again to the girl, taking in her current appearance. “Wear the silver top,” you said nonchalantly.

Kate began rummaging in the drawer, knowing what you had meant and what to look for. She pulled the top out and tried it on, looking at herself in the mirror and letting out a pleased hum. “Looks good, thanks.”

She passed you a grateful smile and you simply passed one in return, merely thankful that she’d stopped making such a fuss while you were trying to work. Your body turned back towards your desk, eyes falling back on to the open notebook in front of you.

“I really can’t convince you to come tonight?” Kate’s voice whined as she touched up her makeup in the mirror. “It’s always super boring without you.”

“I told you already,” you replied, not looking up from your notes. “I can’t go to a party, I have to study.”

Kate sighed loudly. “What are you even studying for? It’s only the third week!”

“My Russian class. I have a test on Monday.”

Your roommate blew a gust of air from her mouth, the repel evident. “You still have all of tomorrow to study.”

“You’re right, I do. And I intend to use all the time I have.”

Despite still looking at your notes, you could see the eye roll Kate gave you. “Whatever, loser,” she called, grabbing a bag to take with her. From behind, you could hear her pulling on a pair of heels, which would probably end up in her hands before the night was done. “I’ll try be quite coming in,” she said, reaching for the door.

“Keys?”

“Shit.”

The noise of scrambling filled the dorm once more as Kate rummaged about in her backpack for her set of keys, an item so frequently forgotten about. You heard them jingle in her hands before being slipped into her purse. Then, she said her actual goodbyes and slid out of the room, finally leaving you to study in peace. You released a relieved sigh as silence fell back over the room and you allowed your eyes to scan the Russian letters and grammar scribbled out across your paper. Whatever party Kate was venturing to that night, it wouldn’t be the thing to keep you from studying, your mind entirely focused on the terminologies written in your notes and determined to commit every piece of it to memory, no matter how long it took.

———

Natasha loved her job, truly she did. In fact, she’d given up her career of lawyering to begin teaching, something about it always drawing her in. But one part about her job that she didn’t enjoy as much, was marking papers. Although it was an integral part of her role as a professor, it seemed marking always held tedium in the never-ending correcting of answers and decoding of illiterate handwriting.

A low sigh escaped her lips as Natasha circled yet another grade atop of a paper, a red ‘D’ followed by a smaller ‘62%’. It wasn’t a surprise to her that most of the grades were on the lower side, especially for her introductory class, the highest so far reigning at a 73. It always took new students a while to get used to the new alphabet and syntax that Russian carried, their grades reflecting that sometimes up until the midterm. Papers like this were Natasha’s least favourite to grade, constantly having to mark down corrections for spellings or grammar, and usually taking up more of her time than she’d like.

The smell in the kitchen at least worked to brighten up her mood, the soft aroma of a home cooked meal fluttering straight from her nose and down to her anticipating stomach. Wanda always loved to cook and each night Natasha loved coming home to eat whatever she’d stirred up for that night. Her wife dotted around the stove top as Natasha sat across the breakfast bar, two stacks of papers sat next to her. Her mind was hoping by the time she was finished marking, Wanda would have dinner ready and the two could finally relax for the night.

Determined to get finished, Natasha reached for another paper on the stack, briefly brushing over the student’s name before beginning her marking. The usual first questions went expectingly well, but as the test slipped into slightly trickier territory, it seemed the common errors that Natasha had grown so used to seeing, were entirely absent. As each question progressed, Natasha found herself becoming continually bewildered at the perfect answers provided on the paper. At the very end, flipping over the last sheet of paper on to the counter, she lowered her eyebrows in confusion. “Huh.”

Wanda’s head raised from where it sat looking down at a pan, now gazing over at her wife with an inquisitive look. “What is it?”

Not answering immediately, Natasha flipped through the test once again, looking over the many check marks next to every question. Slightly confused, she closed the paper, looking up to meet her wife’s eye. “Some student just got a hundred percent. Like, a perfect score.”

Now it was Wanda’s turn to look a little shocked, her brows raising as she leaned across the counter. “You think it’s legit?”

Natasha shrugged, the scenario playing in her mind. “I mean, I monitored everyone whilst they took it. Nobody looked to be cheating.”

The taller redhead let out an almost amused hum. “Impressive. What’s this outstanding student’s name?”

The paper flicked back to the front cover, Natasha’s eyes flitting over the name scribbled on the top of the sheet in neat handwriting. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

Natasha’s mind searched its archives for any mentions of the name, its presence feeling familiar on her tongue. She fell back to taking attendance, specifically on the first day of class. The name had rung out in the hall and a small voice had picked up to answer it. Natasha remembered her amusement at the English accent she’d heard radiating across the room, originating from a young girl in a pretty summer dress near the front row. It seemed some part of her mind had locked in the gentle smile that accompanied such a sweet voice.

"Cute name," Wanda hummed, moving to stir her pot before her recipe could burn.

"Yeah..." Natasha's eyes remained on the sheet in front of her, scanning over the name and conjuring images of the face that matched with it. "I just don't know how she could have done this perfectly." Her fingers flipped through the pieces of paper, eyes scanning the work written in black ink. "I mean, everything is exactly how is should be. Even her cyrillic is written neatly."

Wanda let out a low hum as she continued fussing about with the stovetop, her answer coming out rather nonchalant. "Maybe she's in the wrong class? Was supposed to enroll in one of your others at a higher level?"

The proposal had already flashed across Natasha's mind, the work in front of her seemingly too good for someone of beginner status. There was always something wrong, some letter they'd missed or some word in the wrong order, it was never this perfect. Her mind had scoured back to previous years, trying to remember if she'd taught her before, but the name sounded too unfamiliar, and besides, she would have recalled that distinctive cute accent that this certain student possessed. "Maybe," Natasha replied finally, turning back the paper to the front. "But I don't see why she wouldn't have swapped out already. I mean, she would have had to have noticed by now, right?"

Wanda licked the small spoon in her hand, tasting her dish before tossing the metal away into the sink. It always amazed Natasha just how much of a multitasker her wife could be. Still adding things to her meal, Wanda tossed a comment over her shoulder. "Well, there's only one way to find out. Talk to her."

The idea washed over Natasha, already present in her own mind. The curiosity of the situation was pulling her in, already wanting to know more about this mystery student. As she thought of the girl in her head, more interest seemed to curate within her. Seeing that adorable smile she'd caught each time she'd called attendance, hearing that charming little accent that followed her name being called, something about it all drew her further in than one may expect, in ways perhaps unrelated to the test in front of her. Excitement and curiosity brewing in her, Natasha looked up to smile at her wife. "I think I will."

———

Today was not a good day for you. Not only had you forgotten your water bottle back in the dorm, but it was also the first day of the semester you’d be receiving back a test. It was only a small one, one that wouldn’t dent your final grade enough to matter, but that didn’t mean you hadn’t spent hours studying for it. You should have known that the peaceful calm that followed the start of term wouldn’t last forever, but it seemed every year the reality of things slipped your mind and you suddenly felt the anxiety crashing down on your shoulders a few weeks in.

Aside from a small introductory piece you’d had to write for creative writing, this was your first proper assessment of the year. As you sat in the lecture hall, waiting for class to begin, your mind flooded over everything you’d done to prepare, the hours of studying you’d put in, thinking back to the questions and if there was anything you could have possibly misread. Your foot tapped quickly against the floor as you pondered the possibility of a bad grade, particularly the berating that would follow from your family if they ever found out. You tried your best to settle your anxiety as the minutes ticked by, assuring yourself that you’d put in all the effort you could, a good grade surely waiting for you after all your hard work. But when the doors to the hall opened and your professor walked in, the pit in your stomach only dropped further.

“Morning everyone,” Professor Romanoff called out, briefly glancing across the class. In her hands you could spy the laptop she usually carried, alongside the stack of test papers you’d be receiving back very shortly. Your heart continued to beat in your chest as attendance was taken, voice slightly shaky when it came time for your name to be called.

“Right,” the redheaded woman said, closing down her laptop after finishing the register. She reached for the stack of papers in her desk as she stood, moving towards the front of the class and looking out. “As I said, these tests are mostly just a baseline to let me know you’re all on track. Though, if you are failing, maybe come see me and we can have a chat about why.”

With that, Professor Romanoff began towards the class, calling out names and passing out tests. You tried not to look as she walked up the isle next to you, the first time close enough to touch. Mostly, your eyes remained on the desk in front of you, mind reeling at the possibility of failing. You wouldn’t fail, right? You’d studied for hours.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

A low voice brought your head up from its position, mind dragged from your thoughts and thrust back into the present moment. Your eyes raised to see your professor suddenly stood in front of you, her stare focused upon your face.

“Yes?”

A tight expression appeared on the redhead’s face, almost a smile but not quite reaching her eyes. Her fingers slid your test paper back towards you, face down against the desk. Your eyes flickered down to it before returning to her gaze. “See me after class, please.”

If there were any words you wanted to say, your throat tightened to prevent them from escaping. Before you could even comprehend what she had said, Professor Romanoff was already moving on towards the next student. Your eyes followed her momentarily, then darted back towards your upturned test. You failed, your mind screamed at you. You must have failed.

Tentative fingers reached out towards the paper, your heart preparing for the first ‘F’ ever written on one of your tests. You were already thinking about how you’d have to explain this to your parents, how you’d let it settle within yourself. The paper flipped over, the red writing of your grade distinct at the top of the first page, but when your eyes fluttered over to it, they did not find what they had been expecting mere moments before. Instead of a giant ‘F’ like you’d been anticipating, the paper held a large ‘A’ on the front, then beside it, in a smaller circle, a 100% mark.

Your eyes almost couldn’t believe what they were seeing, mind more relieved than any time you could remember. Almost at once, your body had relaxed, that small smile appearing on your lips like it always did when you did well. You hadn’t failed at all, in fact, you’d done the complete opposite. Maybe this day wasn’t going as bad as you had anticipated. But then you remembered your professor’s words.

See her after class? What could that possibly mean? Your mind suddenly became erratic again, the anxiety taking control and catastrophizing every possible scenario. You were unsure how you felt with the idea of spending time alone with Professor Romanoff, suddenly worried she may have the ability to read minds and would be able to tell how much your mind had floated back to her face over the past few weeks.

The thoughts in your head were so loud you didn’t notice when your professor first began going on the test. It was only by question four you’d caught on, suddenly snapping back to reality and trying desperately to join back in with the class seamlessly. It seemed, however, that your mind still couldn’t concentrate, entirely focused on the conversation the red-haired woman in front of you had requested to have.

Your eyes fluttered around the room, glancing at the other students to perhaps gage how everyone else had done on the test. Briefly, they fell upon the desk next to you, spying the ‘56%’ scribbled on to the top of the test paper that sat there. When your eyes raised to the girl it belonged it, she passed you a quick scowl, making an eye to the perfect score that sat in front of you. Feeling far too seen, your eyes snapped back to your own paper, hoping that said girl knew you weren’t at all judging, though by her face, it seemed those were her exact thoughts. For the rest of the lesson you vowed to keep your eyes glued to your own paper, too scared of what they might find in the faces of those around you.

Eventually, your professor’s words began to drown out, overtaken by the lingering anxiety clouding your mind. Before you knew it, you’d spent the entire hour stuck inside your head, rethinking every possible scenario that could possibly occur after class. Now, you were forced to face the reality as Professor Romanoff dismissed the class, requesting papers be returned to her before anyone left.

You watched from your chair as a line of students all placed their papers in a stack on the side of the wooden desk. Slowly, you began to pack away your things into your bag, trying not to draw attention to yourself any more than necessary. When you stood, you clutched your test close to your chest, hiding the score away from anyone who might have passed you a look any similar to the girl previously sat beside you.

As the line of students dwindled down, all turning to leave the lecture room, you slowly approached the desk at the centre of the room. The last of your class let the doors swing closed behind them just as you reached the wooden surface, leaving you in the room entirely alone with your professor. You watched her from behind as she wiped the chalkboard clean, erasing away any remnants of the previous lesson.

The air felt so thick you could choke on it. Your mind told you to make yourself known, clear your throat or something, but it seemed you were almost frozen in place. Only when Professor Romanoff finally turned, did you even move at all.

“Ah, Miss Y/L/N.”

The woman dusted her hands against each other as she began to close the gap between the two of you. Both of your eyes met each other, her gaze locking on to yours as she walked back towards her desk and sat down on the edge of it. You swallowed harshly as you danced on the balls of your feet, your irrational thought of mind reading suddenly coming back to you. But Professor Romanoff didn’t say anything towards the sort, instead, simply extended her hand out towards you, palm facing up to the ceiling.

“Oh, right,” you stumbled, handing over the test paper which she had just previously been looking at. It was slightly crumpled from being pressed to your body but the woman seemingly took no notice, simply glancing over it before returning it to the pile of others on her desk, a low hum escaping from her lips.

When her eyes turned back to meet yours, you suddenly noticed how green they were, never having been so close as to regard them before. Blazing emerald gazed back at you as your heart pounded in your chest.

“This is a very good paper, Miss Y/L/N. I’ve never had a student get a perfect mark on one of my tests before.”

As Professor Romanoff’s voice caught your ears, your heartbeat only seemed to quicken its pace. Something in her gaze felt scrutinising, the small curt smile on her lips enough to practically drag your next words out from your mouth.

“I-I didn’t cheat if that’s what you think. I swear.”

It was spilling out before you could stop it really, words tumbling over one another in a desperate attempt to plead your case. That had been the conclusion you’d drawn from this scenario, the reason you’d been asked to stay back in the first place. But to your surprise, Professor Romanoff simply raised a skeptical brow. “I never said you cheated, did I?”

Suddenly you felt very warm, like the wonderful AC you always gushed about had instantaneously disappeared. “No-I just-I-I mean-“

The words tumbled from your mouth, barely coherent. They were quickly silenced when Professor Romanoff raised a hand, passing you a look you couldn’t quite decipher.

“I don’t think you cheated, Y/N,” the professor said after a moment, lowering her hand once more. “I’m just curious as to how you achieved such a high score.”

You felt a little stupid, mind too ahead of itself like always and blurting out the first thing it thought of without even thinking properly. Professor Romanoff’s words washed over you and you picked up on the question present, thinking over your answer briefly before shrugging your shoulders. “I just studied, I guess.”

That perfectly sculpted brow raised once more. “Studied?” Professor Romanoff seemed to look you up and down, gazing at the way you picked at your nail beds anxiously. You stopped immediately when she seemed to notice, instead moving to hold your hands behind your back. The professor moved her eyeline back up to you once more, a curious expression now taking over her face. “Have you taken Russian before?”

You shook your head. “No.”

Professor Romanoff let out a low sigh, adjusting herself on the table where she sat. She was once again wearing a pair of fitted slacks and polished heels, partnered today with a short-sleeved white blouse. From this distance, you could tell the material was silk. You tried not to stare at the woman’s exposed arms as the came to cross against her chest, and more importantly, at the slight cleavage on show that now pressed higher as she moved.

“It’s highly unlikely for a beginner to get a perfect score on a test,” your professor said, eyes meeting yours. “Especially so early on.” The air seemed to grow thicker as the redhead leaned in closer towards you, her gaze narrowing ever so slightly. “So if you’re lying to me, sweetheart, I’d appreciate if you didn’t.”

The name hung heavy in the air, hammering at your lungs as you stood under the woman’s scrutinising gaze. Suddenly, you felt warmer, your heart rate picking up even more as the words of defense began to stumble from your mouth once again. “I-I swear I’ve never taken it before. I-I just-“ You swallowed harshly, trying to regain some of your composure. "I looked at the syllabus over summer and maybe taught myself some of the basic concepts is all. And I did some extra reading, but I just wanted to be prepared! I haven't actually done Russian properly before, I promise. I-I just-"

Professor Romanoff raised her hand once more, silencing your stuttering. "It’s alright, milaya," she said, a small smile now spreading across her lips. "Calm down." The Russian was recognised by your ears but not your mind, left untranslated in the conversation as the redhead continued to talk. "You’re not in any trouble. I was just curious"

The gentleness of your professor's voice was enough to settle you down, suddenly feeling foolish for blurting out like you had. You took a moment to breath, looking down at your feet as they swayed you back and forth. "Right," you said, voice now quiet in the near-empty room.

When your eyeline raised to Professor Romanoff once again, she was still looking back at you with that gentle smile, her eyes soft under the light. After a moment of her gaze on you, she released a small sigh, reaching back to place a hand on your test that sat at the top of the pile. "This is very good test, though," she said, nodding her head towards you. "You should be proud of yourself."

The praise washed over you in a wave of warmth, spreading across your cheeks and down the back of your neck. It wasn't often you received recognition for your work, it certainly never being enough back home, so you never really learned how to properly cope with it without your face embarrassingly heating up and a dopey smile appearing on your lips. You tried your best to hide these now, looking back at the redhead in front of you. "Thank you, professor."

The woman smiled, unbothered by the way your fingers had moved to begin fidgeting with the zip of your hoodie, desperate to find something to distract your flurried mind. "I assume you have another class to get to, Miss Y/L/N?" Professor Romanoff stood up, now looking down on you from a few inches above, her heels adding even more height so that you had to slightly raise your head from where it had been to look up at her.

Your head nodded. "Uhm, yes I do."

The redhead began to collect the papers that sat on the side, adjusting them into an orderly pile. From behind the desk, she smiled over at you. "Well then, hurry along. I wouldn't want to make you late."

Your head nodded again, more frantically this time. "Of course." You adjusted the backpack on your shoulders before turning away, headed towards the door to your right, but before you could reach it, Professor Romanoff's voice called out again.

"And Y/N?"

You turned quickly, facing her desk once more with an awaiting expression. The woman met your eye, the smile on her lips different now, almost what one could mistake as a smirk. She looked over at you as she said, "Keep up the good work."

For the third time, you nodded, feeling yourself heating up again. "I will," you replied, smiling sheepishly. "Thank you again, professor." And with that, you turned and reached for the door, rejoining the rest of the world with a blush on your cheeks. As you headed towards the exit of the building and on towards your next class, your mind tried desperately to think about anything other than the way your professor’s arms had looked pressed against her chest, or more noticeably, how sweet the nicknames she had called you felt upon your ears.

#inescapable love au #professor natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader #platonic kate bishop x reader #lawyer wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader

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two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat · 2 years

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........maybe lead with that, grandma.....

#also possibly include more information #did they say when they were exposed?#are we talking like exposed this week? last week? yesterday?#i need to weigh the risks now grandma #on one hand i hope they were exposed last week and just tested now as a precaution #but on the other hand i kind of hope that's not what happened cuz that means they decided going on a trip was #still a good idea #but also that means theyre going to a restaurant during a time when sitting outside is not advisable due to the heat #and potentially exposing people when the tests may just not be picking it up yet #like im going to assume since theres 5 of them (hopefully only 4 tho. i dont wanna see bob) and they hopefully all got tested #and all the tests came back negative theyre /probably/ safe to be arounf #BUT I DONT KNOW THAT #BECAUSE PEOPLE DONT GIVE ME SUFFICIENT INFORMATION #like yes i should just text my cousin and ask some clarifying questions but i have anxiety around doing that #because when ive done that in the past people got mad at me cuz apparently thats rude to some people #and while i dont think my cousin would think that her grandparents dont respect her or her sisters privacy at all and sometimes #read their texts and the things they find rude are weird even by neurotypical standards so i dont know how to talk to them #(or in this case talk to my cousin and risk them reading my messages and getting offended somehow)#fuckin rich neurotypical catholics #its like i have to play fuckin chess just to talk to these peoplw #and im awful at chess #and if i do go do i wear my headphones to block out background noise in the restaurant????#that would likely help but i get the feeling everyones gonna wanna comment on it and question it cuz they do that with everything i do #and no one except grandma and MAYBE grandpa know im autistic and i while i dont care who knows #i also dont wanna risk getting interrogated about it in an Applebee's

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mountttmase · 29 days

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See You Soon

Note - coming to you slightly earlier than scheduled as I suddenly have a social life but I hope you enjoy this. I like to think of this as a colab between myself and @saltyheartnightmare and it was her original idea to use the TikTok I found for this. I hope you guys like it and feedback is always appreciated 🩷

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 7.8k

Warnings - fluff and a tiny bit of angst and smut

Waking up next to Mason was your favourite thing in the world. Today though, you weren’t afforded that luxury.

The pair of you had moved into your new house about a week ago and you were still trying to make it a home. Things had been all over the place since your wedding just a month before but finally you were in your home and ready to make it exactly how you wanted it.

Tomorrow night would be Mason's first away game since you’d moved in and you could tell he was a little apprehensive about leaving you alone for the first time in this big house. You tried to reassure him that it would be a regular thing soon and you’d just have to get used to it but you couldn't deny you were also a little scared about it.

This new house was more than you ever thought you could have in a home. It was huge and finished to a high standard but when you were alone in the day you could swear you could hear and see things move. You knew Mason could tell something was up as you clung to him tightly when he got home but you just brushed it off by saying you missed him.

Mason was up earlier than you anticipated but after another night of him worshipping your body, you didn’t even wake up fully as he moved around. Ever since your wedding a month ago he was even more touchy than usual but you weren't complaining about any of it as you wanted him just as much. However this morning you needed to recover from the way he’d put you to the test last night knowing you wouldn't see each other for a few days and you ached deliciously.

It was around 10am by the time you managed to peel the covers away from your body. Knowing you needed caffeine to try and shake yourself out of the space you were in and after quickly getting dressed you plodded down to the kitchen.

You knew there was something different about the room as soon as you stepped into the open plan space but you didn’t realise how obvious it was until you went to the coffee machine. Grabbing a mug from the cupboard before finding a folded up piece of paper taped to the front of the machine.

‘What the hell?’ You whispered. Placing your mug on the side so you could see what it was and as soon as you opened it up you recognised Mason's handwriting immediately.

‘Oh Mase’ you breathed. Your bottom lip jutting out as you read over his note a few times until you couldn’t anymore as your eyes filled with tears that you blinked away.

It was times like this where you fell in love with Mason even more than you thought you could. He was already your everything but the way he proved himself all the time that he was thinking of you and trying his best to make you smile whenever he could melted you and made you wish he was standing next to you so you could give him a big kiss.

The excited part of you wanted to run around and find them all straight away but you figured since you were on your own for at least three days it would be best to space them out a little bit. This was clearly a distraction exercise for you and you didn’t want to ruin it for him so you made your coffee and took it up to bed with your note so you could read it over and over again.

You had some errands to run today, but you didn’t want to leave without finding at least one more. Thankfully the next one wasn’t hard to find and as you made your way into the dining room the bright bunch of flowers sitting in the middle of the table caught your eye immediately.

You could tell this note was much smaller than the last, reaching out with a giddy smile in anticipation of what he had to say to you next and just like usual he didn’t disappoint.

You were giggling like a schoolgirl as you bent to take a big sniff of them. They were bright and colourful and looked how Mason made you feel on the inside. They were wasted in the dining room though so you picked them up and took them into the sitting room so it gave a chance to look at them everyday before snapping a quick picture to say thank you to him.

You left the house shortly after with a spring in your step. Popping to the supermarket to do the food shop and then nipping to the bakery on the way home to get yourself a few treats for lunch. This afternoon you were planning to paint one of the spare rooms that you would be using for your office and after you'd eaten and put the shopping away you quickly nipped to B&Q for the last few bit’s you needed.

The whole time you were painting your office you couldn't stop thinking about Mason and where the next note might be. Knowing he must have gotten up extra early today to plant them around the house made you giggle but you also realised how into this he was and knew he would have some extra special hiding places for you to find.

Your painting took longer than you'd planned for it to, eventually finishing in time for you to make some quick dinner before your favourite shows started. You were messaging Mason a little bit throughout the day as he quizzed you about the notes and if you had looked for more but to his dismay you hadn't. You told him you were itching for a shower and would look before bed but thankfully for you, you didn't have to look too far.

Your bathroom was probably the last place the note should have been but you knew Mason had gone out if his way to surprise you so you should have expected the unexpected. As soon as you opened your cupboard to grab your skin care you were met with a glass frame that was closed like a book and the usual lined paper that was stuck to the front.

If anyone felt lucky in this moment it was you feeling lucky that you got to marry someone as wonderful as Mason and before you broke down in tears again your eyes flickered to the photo frame in your cupboard.

As you pulled apart the frame, you realised it had two sides, one containing a photo for yours and Mason's wedding day whilst the other seemed to have dried flowers from your bouquet pressed between the glass.

‘Oh my god’ you whispered, tears pouring down your face as you gently touched the picture of the pair of you having your first dance and you felt all consumed with your love for him. Taking the frame back into your room and placing it on your bedside table so you could look at him before you went to sleep and knew you wanted to let him know you’d found the next note even if you couldn’t keep your emotions in check.

Getting to marry Mason was a dream. The whole day you felt like a princess as the man of your dreams promised to give himself to you but you hadn’t been able to relive the day as much as you’d have liked as your official wedding photos and video still weren’t ready. Mason had obviously managed to get a hold of one though and the sweet gift had made you more emotional than you thought it would.

You missed Mason more than you ever had but you’d barely been away from this time. Telling yourself it was only a few more days but you were counting down the hours until he was back in your arms.

The next morning you woke up feeling surprisingly refreshed. Excited to go hunting for a new note before you got started on some more unpacking but it seemed as though the next note was a bit too well hidden so you gave up and went to have a shower and get dressed. Telling yourself to look a bit later with fresh eyes when you’ve had a think about it while unpacking.

The boxes you needed were in the garage and you were digging around in there for a little while until you came across what you needed and picked it up ready to leave.

The next note was staring you in the face. Attached to the back of the door so you’d see it on the way out and you laughed as you popped the box down to read it.

You remembered the first time you’d met too, you were only 18 and when Mason said you’d crashed into each other you’d quite literally crashed into him.

Being invited to parties at school was somewhat of a rare occurrence. You and your friends weren’t part of the cool kids in your year but you knew whenever Seb was having a party you’d be invited.

You’d known Seb since you were babies. Your mums being best friends that had magically gotten pregnant at the same time and whilst you weren’t as close as you once were, he was like family and you had a permanent invite to any party he threw in order for you not to rat him out to his mum.

You didn’t care for the people there, you and your friends sticking to yourselves but it was worth it for the free drinks and soon enough you were being invited to parties no matter who was hosting or where they were.

It was that time of the year though, exams were finally over and uni offers had been accepted. Most of you now over the age of 18 and able to buy alcohol and get into clubs but for one last time Seb wanted to get everyone together again. One last hurrah before you all went your separate ways and it was all going well until you caught sight of the last person you wanted to see.

Logan was in the year above, a popular guy and way out of your league but you fell for his charms quickly. You never understood why he’d gone for you but he had and the pair of you started dating shortly after you’d met. He was sweet and sensitive and made you feel on top of the world but right now you wished the ground would swallow you up.

You quickly excused yourself from your friends, wanting to get away and out of his eyeline and thankfully knowing Sebs house like it was your own meant you could sneak away and run into the utility room that was just through the garage.

‘Oh shit! Sorry, are you alright?’ You suddenly heard. Feeling a hand on your arm as the stranger you’d walked straight into tried to steady you and when you looked up you were met with a face you didn’t recognise.

A very attractive face you didn’t recognise.

‘I’m fine’ you managed to stutter out, straightening yourself up as he let go of you and you were thankful he’d managed to keep his drink contained in his cup and it wasn’t all down your front. You’d bought this dress especially for tonight and even though it was way out of your comfort zone you wanted to make sure you looked good. It was silky and tight and you knew any stain would show up straight away and it was the last thing you needed to look like a hot mess. ‘Sorry, I didn’t expect anyone to be in here, I wasn’t looking where I was going’ you tried to explain but his sweet smile made you feel at ease and you couldn’t help but smile back.

‘No it’s okay, I wasn’t either’ he laughed. Scratching the back of his neck nervously and you couldn’t help but find him endearing straight away. ‘You sure you’re alright? Looks like I’ve seen a ghost’

‘I’m fine, really’ you told him, trying to brush him off so you could get a few minutes alone and collect yourself but your mystery man didn’t want to let you go that easily. His big brown eyes looking right into yours and you were struck by how handsome he was straight away.

‘Can I get you a drink then at least?’ He offered. Head nodding to the assortment of bottles behind him and you sent him a small nod before telling him your usual. Most drinks were kept in the kitchen but the good stuff was kept out here and you smiled as Mason found exactly what you wanted with ease. ‘I know I’ve asked, and I know you said you’re fine, but are you sure? You can tell me you know. Nothing like spilling your secrets to a stranger’

‘Are you offering to be my therapist?’

‘Of sorts. I can’t tell you I have the answers to everything but i'm a good listener and I won’t charge you an arm and a leg’ he chuckled and you smiled back in amusement as he passed you your drink. ‘I’m Mason, by the way’

‘y/n’

‘Nice to meet you, y/n’ he smiled and you liked the way your name sounded coming out of his mouth straight away. ‘I take it you went to school with Seb?’

‘Yeah, we’re sort of family friends and I’ve known him since we were babies’ you laughed. ‘How do you know him?’

‘We used to play football together in the same academy before he got released’ he nodded, resting himself up against the cabinet so you decided to join him and he smiled as you placed yourself next to him.

‘Oh yeah I remember him telling me something about that once. He was so upset when it happened’

‘Yeah it’s tough, happed to a few of the guys’

‘What about you, do you still play?’ You asked, hoping if you spoke about him he’d forget to ask about you and thankfully your plan was working.

‘I do actually, yeah. I’ve just come back from a year playing abroad so I’m just assessing my options’

‘Wow, that’s so cool’

‘Yeah it’s different, glad to be home though’ he chuckled before bumping his shoulder into yours. ‘Anyway we’re meant to be talking about you, not me. Stop changing the subject’

‘You noticed that, huh?’ You laughed, rolling your eyes at how perceptive he was. ‘It’s nothing really, I feel a bit stupid now anyway’

‘Well you can’t leave me hanging’

‘Okay fine’ you gulped, taking a deep breath so you could tell him but to your surprise you felt at ease spilling your guts to him. ‘My ex is here and I didn’t expect him to be’

‘Ohhh I see. Bad break up?’

‘I don’t even know. He’s a year above and already at uni. I thought things were fine but he text me a few months back saying I distracted him too much and he wanted a fresh start from everything, including me, and I haven’t seen or heard from him since’ you shrugged. ‘Like it was so out of the blue but we’d only been together for around six months so i didn't take it too hard but it’s still a bit shit to see him’

‘It’s still a dick thing to do, I’m really sorry’ he told you, his brows furrowed like he was annoyed on your behalf but you sent him a small smile to let him know you were fine.

‘It’s okay, it is what it is. Like there’s not much I can do, I just feel weird. Not in like an upset I want him back way it’s more like when I saw him just now, I didn’t feel anything. Like…’ you trailed off, feeling like maybe you were saying too much but Mason's kind face had destroyed all your walls. ‘Sorry, I’m being silly. You didn’t need to listen to me rabbit on I bet your friends are wondering where you are’

‘No, y/n it’s fine-‘

‘I should be getting back out too, but I’ll see you around probably’

‘y/n-‘

‘Thanks for the drink’ you smiled. Cutting him off one last time before you got up and left as quick as you could.

All you wanted was to find your friends and keep away from everyone else. Be that your ex or your new friend with the pretty brown eyes that made your tummy swirl but you weren't having much luck. Your friends seemed to have vanished into thin air and you were walking around aimlessly until you decided to stop and call one of them in hopes they’d pick up.

You didn’t get a chance to hit call though, a tall shadow looming over you and when you looked up it was number one on your list of people you didn’t want to be acquainted with.

‘y/n? I thought I saw you earlier’ Logan smiled, but you were frozen in place. Not even being able to let a breath out as he looked down at you ‘listen I was hoping we could-‘

‘Ah there you are’ you suddenly heard. Looking to your left to see Mason walking towards you with two drinks in his hand and a cheeky smile on his face. ‘You left your drink in the other room, gorgeous. I got you a fresh one’ he smiled. Passing you a cup before wrapping his now free arm around your waist and kissing your temple gently. ‘You alright, mate? I’m Mason, y/n’s boyfriend. You are?’

Boyfriend? What on earth was he doing?

‘L-Logan’ he stuttered. Reaching out to shake Masons outstretched hand and the confusion on his face made you want to smile but soon enough his hard eyes were back on you. ‘I didn’t know you were seeing someone’

‘Were not exactly on speaking terms are we’ you bit back. Mason rubbing his thumb soothingly over your hip over the top of your dress and you were surprised at how relaxed you felt. Melting into his body as he pressed another kiss to your temple and you knew it was driving Logan mad.

‘How’d you guys meet? And when?’ Logan asked. An accusatory tone in his voice but Mason wanted to be the one to rain on his parade it seemed and you were pretty glad as your mind was blank.

‘It was Sainsburys, wasn’t it babe? Couple of months back I think. We were both reaching for the last tub of Ben and Jerrys but I got there first. She was so upset, like look at this face. You’d have to be messed up to want to upset someone this beautiful so I told her she could have it if she agreed to a date with me and thankfully for me she said yes’ Mason chuckled and you stared back at him in amazement as the made up story fell from his lips. Knowing you should maybe butt in and say something to make it more believable.

‘We made it official yesterday, he took me out to that new ice cream shop in town and we shared a sundae. You were so nervous, weren’t you’ you laughed, looking back up into his brown eyes but the bright smile he was sending your way relaxed you. ‘I have no idea why, there was no need to be. I said yes right away and would every time’

‘What did I ever do to deserve her, eh? Beautiful, smart, funny. I always say to her, her ex must be an idiot letting her go but if it means she’s mine now then I don’t care’ he told Logan. Resting his cheek on your head as he pulled you impossibly closer. ‘Sorry we’ve been talking your ear off, I think we’re just excited you know?’

‘Sure’ Logan grumbled, the annoyed look on his face satisfactory enough for you but when he finally made eye contact with you again you saw how pissed he actually was. ‘I need to go find someone but I’ll see you guys around’

‘Oh definitely, we’ll talk to you in a bit’ Mason smiled and with one last look at you, he stormed off into another room leaving you and Mason alone.

‘What the fuck was that’ you laughed, turning to face him but keeping close so he would keep his arm around you and thankfully he did.

‘Well I could tell from a mile off just by the look on your face he was probably your ex and I’ve always been a sucker for a damsel in distress’ he teased, squeezing your waist gently as he looked down at you with a smile.

‘That may be so, but you’ve sort of shot yourself in the foot a bit’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well you’re gonna have to stay with me for the rest of the night now, duh’ you giggled ‘if you leave me in my own he’ll get suspicious and try to talk to me’

‘Well lucky for you, I don’t see that as a bad thing’ he winked and you felt your cheeks flush. ‘Unless you want me to piss off?’

‘Nah, I think you’ve earned your spot’ you told him, biting your lip cheekily and the way his eyes flashed to your lips made your tummy flutter.

So you went and found your friends with Mason in tow and to say they were surprised by a random boys presence was an understatement. You quickly explained the situation though and they were more than happy to play along. Especially when Mason asked you all to join the guys he’d come with and they seemed more than happy to hang out with you.

Throughout the night you’d ended up practically sat in Mason's lap. His hands rarely leaving your waist as you got to know each other and you didn’t see Logan again that night. Whether that was because he’d left or was just staying out of your way you didn’t know but you were so wrapped up in Mason you didn’t care.

You couldn’t get over how gorgeous he was. Big brown eyes and a killer smile but it was his goofy personality and his insistent need to make you laugh that was really winning you over. He was cheeky and silly and the way he kept looking you up and down made you blush.

The only time you left him was to have a dance for a little bit. Still looking back at him often to find his eyes on you and when you slipped off to the loo you were surprised to hear your name being spoken by a voice you knew was Seb’s.

‘Oi mate, what’s going on with you an y/n?’

‘We’re just hanging out. She’s nice’ Mason replied. A soft smile adorning your lips at the fact he thought you were nice but you thought he was more than nice.

‘I know she is, but when I said there would be girls here I didn’t mean her. I meant the others who’s are just after a shag’

‘Who says I’m just looking for a shag?’ Mason retorted and you rolled your eyes at their silly conversation. ‘Come on man, you know me and you know I’m not like that’

‘Look all I know is, that girl is like a sister to me and if you hurt I swear to god-‘

‘Mate, I promise you I’m not gonna hurt her. I know we’ve been drinking and stuff but I actually really like her’ he confessed and you felt your tummy flip at his confession. ‘Do you think she’d go on a date with me?’

‘I mean I don’t see why not, but just know i'll be keeping an eye on you. Also if things do work out I expect a major role at the wedding’

‘You can be y/n’s man of honour’ Mason joked ‘I bet you’d look great in a dress’

You felt yourself flushing as they spoke about you. Thankful Seb was so protective over you and you made a mental note to find him later and give him a big hug but you didn’t want to intrude anymore so you left them to it. Bickering about who would look better in a dress and you tried to hold in your giggles as you rushed to the bathroom.

Once you’d finally used the loo you stepped outside into and empty hallway, only to be met by Mason coming out of one of the guest rooms a few doors down saying goodbye to whoever he was on the phone to and his eyes lit up when he saw you. Holding his hand out for you to take and when he pulled you into his body, you melted into him.

‘Hey girlfriend, I’ve been looking for you’

‘I’ve only been away from you for ten minutes’ you giggled. Letting him wrap his arms around your shoulders as you held him at his waist and the feeling of warmth and safety hit you like a truck.

‘Ten minutes too long’ he whispered, placing a gentle kiss between your eyebrows and you shut your eyes at the feel of it. ‘Come in here with me for a sec?’ He asked, nodding back into the room he’d just come from and even though you were going into a room alone with a boy you’d just met that night you still felt safe so you let him take your hand and lead you in.

‘Was everything okay?’ You asked, trying to make conversation to distract yourself from how nervous you felt and you quickly took a seat on the edge of the bed whilst he shut the door.

‘Yeah, fine. Just my dad wanting to talk about some football stuff but I told him it can wait’ he nodded. Sitting himself down next to you as he took your hand and threaded his fingers through yours. Sensing how nervous you were clearly but just the touch of him relaxed you. ‘You know when I came here tonight, I didn’t think I’d meet someone like you’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well Seb said there would be girls here but you’re so different to everyone I’ve ever met’

‘That’s because he didn’t mean me’ you laughed, remembering the conversation you’d overheard just before and you knew Seb was probably trying to set him up with one of the more popular girls.

‘Why wouldn’t he?’

‘Well I wasn’t exactly the most popular at school, or the prettiest. He probably meant someone like Kate or Jess. You know, the girls all the other guys wanted’

‘Well, funnily enough I have no idea who Kate or Jess are and even if I did I still think I’d have had my eye on you’ he winked and you felt yourself blush as you hid in his shoulder. ‘What? I’m serious’ he laughed, his free hand coming to your thigh so he could lift it over his lap and move you to straddle him. You’d never been in this situation before, alone in a room with a boy you’d only met a few hours prior but you knew you didn’t want to stop so you went with it and placed your arms around his neck as he held you at your waist.

‘Mase, stop it’ you giggled, realising you’d used the nickname everyone had been calling him for the first time to his face and you quickly hid your face in his neck out of embarrassment.

‘Am I making you flustered?’ He teased and you nodded into his neck when you felt his arms pull you to him tighter. ‘I’m sorry, love. But it’s true. Prettiest girl in here by a mile and that’s not me chatting shit. I saw you when I got here earlier and I thought I’d hit the jackpot when we bumped into each other in the garage. And anyway, forget all that. You're my girl for tonight, yeah? I can’t be looking anyone else’

‘Just for tonight?’ You teased pulling back to look at him and the pretty smile that took over his face made your knees weak.

‘We can extend my contract if you like. Depends if the terms are favourable though’

‘How about you take me to that ice cream shop we had our first date at and we can discuss it further’

‘Deal’ he breathed, but before you had a second to think he planted his lips on yours.

You'd been waiting all night for him to kiss you. The tension between the pair of you had been thick and now it’s like your bubble had burst.

He was gentle with you, keeping his hands planted firmly on your waist as he delicately brushed his lips against yours and you had to stop yourself from moaning into his mouth. Overwhelmed by the smell and taste of him and you almost lost it when you felt his tongue against your lips but you let him in straight away. Eager to feel as much of him as you could without pushing it too far.

‘I’ve wanted to kiss you all night’ he whispered when you finally broke apart for air, nose bumping into yours gently but you still didn’t have the confidence to look at him properly and kept your eyes planted on his chest.

‘Me too’ you giggled. ‘You know, I’ve never kissed a boy at a party before. Let alone be in a room alone with one’

‘Seriously?’ He laughed, a teasing tone to his voice and when he tickled your waist your eyes flashed up to look into his dark ones.

‘I’m a good girl, Mason’

‘Is that so’ he drawled, almost like he wanted to challenge you on it and there was something inside of you that made you want to keep teasing him so you carried on.

‘Yes it is’ you laughed. ‘I’m not that sort of girl’

‘Well-‘

Mason was cut off by the sound of the door opening. The pair of you quickly looking to see who’d interrupted you and to your shock it was Logan. His face bemused as his gaze landed on you and you knew your underwear was on show as your dress had ridden up but Mason was quick to move you to his side so you were shielded from him.

‘Shit, sorry mate I must have forgotten to lock the door’ Mason laughed but you didn’t hear a response. Just a grunt from Logan before he slammed the door behind him. ‘Well I don’t know about you but I’d say mission accomplished’

You didn’t take things any further that night. Sticking together still and swapping numbers before you left but he was quick to ask to see you again and you hadn’t really left each other alone since.

That had been four years ago and now you were newly married in your new shared home and it felt good to take a walk down memory lane for a little bit and realise how far you’d come.

You knew you needed to get back on track though, grabbing the box you needed to unpack and taking it inside as you daydreamed about Mason for the rest of the afternoon.

You had two more notes to find, and you were starting to run out of options of places to look. You knew you wanted to find one before bed and In the end you began looking in each room one by one until you came to one of the guest rooms.

It was still bare like all the others but a red box on one of the shelves at the back caught your eye. There shouldn’t have been anything in here so you carefully walked over to reach for it and your suspicions were confirmed when you saw the infamous lined paper neatly folded and taped to the lid of the box. You wanted to read the note first and not ruin what was inside so as carefully as you could you peeled the note away and unfolded it.

You gasped at the words on the paper. Breath stuck in your lungs as you couldn’t find a way to breathe properly but it was soon rushing out as you tried to stop your bottom lip from wobbling.

Mason had always wanted kids, you’d known it from your first date in the ice cream shop when you caught him looking fondly at a small child trying to eat its ice cream and when the pair of you were able to meet his niece Summer, it was written all over his face how much he was in his element. The twinkle in his eye letting you know that he couldn't wait for the pair of you to be in this position one day. In fact it was this very room when you were taking a tour of this house that Mason had picked out for a nursery and even though you’d laughed it off you now realised he was more serious than you thought.

The fact Mason felt settled enough with you now to try for a little one of your own made your skin tingle all over. The shaky breath falling for your lips and you couldn’t contain your smile at the thought of a tiny Mason to keep you company when Mason was away.

Your attention turned to the box in your lap next. Getting a better look at it to see it was a small shoe box and you couldn’t wait to get inside of it. Your eyes filling up with tears again before you’d even got the lid off but you were a mess by the time you had the little trainers in your hands. A matching version to the ones Mason had recently gifted you and you felt the sobs creep up your throat until they were mixed with your giggles.

There was one note left and it was driving you insane. You had the house nearly tipped upside down by the end of the day looking for it and it was still nowhere to be seen. Looking in every room and every cupboard and you were discovering things about the house you didn’t even know. The most exciting thing was a door in the back of your cupboard under the stairs that when opened had a secret staircase that made its way into your walk-in wardrobe and you made a mental note to ask Mason about it when he was home as you had no idea what that would be for.

It was useless though and you took yourself off to bed knowing you’d have the whole of the next day too look but it was bugging you that he’d hidden it so well.

Mason would be home later the next day and you wanted to have them all found but it seemed pretty hopeless until about mid morning when you realised your wardrobe was probably the only place you hadn’t looked.

It seemed like the last resort but you carefully opened every drawer until you came to your special underwear section. There sat a black box with the tiny note you’d been going crazy over and you quickly opened it with excitement to see what he had to say.

What? You wondered. Picking up the black box and thinking whatever it was was probably inside but you weren’t prepared for what you were about to be met with.

You noticed the colour first. A deep but vibrant red, similar to the colour of the dress you wore the first night you met and you carefully took each piece out and laid them on your bed so you could work out what mason had got for you this time.

It was quite possibly one of the most revealing sets of underwear you’d ever seen. The cups of the bra covered by just some lace that matched the sides of the thong but it was the belt and choker situation that came with it that was making you blush furiously. Thinking there was no way in hell you’d ever feel confident enough to wear it but thinking about the look on Masons face when you did made you chuckle.

If Mason wanted you in these when he got back then that’s what he would be getting. Jumping in the shower so you could get yourself ready for him and when you were in there you had the perfect idea. Wanting to play Mason at his own game but you didn’t have as much time to prepare as he’d had and you wondered if it was a little silly but you went with it. Even more excited for Mason to get home in a few hours.

When Mason finally made it home, all he wanted to do was dump his bags and go and find you. He’d missed your touch for the last few days and he’d been thinking about nothing else on the drive over from the airport.

Little did he know you’d have your own game for him to play and he noticed the paper taped to the door as soon as he walked up the drive. Smiling cheekily to himself as he peeled it from the door and eagerly looked it over.

He smiled softly as he read over your writing and as soon as he opened the front door he felt relaxed. Yes the pair of you had only been here around and week and yes it was still empty but he knew you were here somewhere and wherever you were that’s where home was.

So he did as you asked. Going to the kitchen first where he found a few slices of pizza that he presumed were from one you’d made yourself tonight and a fresh bottle of Pepsi on the side. Mason loved your pizza and would always beg you to make it but it wasn’t exactly part of his meal plan so you only made it for special occasions. It was just what he needed after his flight though and he took a giant bite whilst unfolding the next note to see what you had to say next.

He’d managed to finish one slice whilst reading the note so he took the next slice with him along with all his bags over to the utility room. Thinking this was just your way of making him put all his stuff away and not leave it dumped by the door as he always did but he went along with it as he knew it would take longer to see you if he cheated. He also knew how excited he got when he put all the notes out for you and he didn’t want to spoil your fun so he did what you wanted and made his way over.

Another note greated him there, this one attached to the fabric softener and he had a feeling you were about to ask him to separate his washing out but he still opened it with a smile. Thinking to himself he’d do it gladly if it meant it got him one step closer to you.

Mason was too excited to wait. Popping his bags on the side before rushing up the stairs and he knew it would just take one more flight up to find you in your shared room but he still did as you asked. Rushing into the bathroom to find the dryer on and a note attached to the mirror on his side of the sink which he tore down immediately.

He felt himself melt at the way you’d made sure he had warm clothes ready for him when he got back so he quickly rid the clothes from his body before reaching for the toasty ones in the dryer. A comfy pair of grey shorts and one of his baggy tee’s that he got on as quickly as he could so they were still warm and now he wanted to see you more than ever.

He was over and into the storage cupboard in a flash. Not caring about what you might be asking him to do he just wanted to see you and with each note he was growing more impatient so he stormed in and tore the paper from the back wall in hopes this would be the final piece of the puzzle.

Good boy huh? He thought, the term making him smile as he could tell what sort of mood you were in but he followed your instructions and went into the back of the cupboard where he found the door in question.

‘What the hell’, Mason whispered under his breath. Turning the handle gingerly and to his surprise it opened fairly easily. Light filling the dim room from inside and once it was fully open he looked up to find a set of stairs and an open doorway at the top with the light on in the room upstairs. ‘Baby? You up there?’ He called. Not hearing an answer exactly but the musical sound of your laugh let him know you were.

The thought of seeing you pushed every worry out of his body and he took the stairs two at a time until he was at the top where he found himself in your walk-in wardrobe.

‘What the hell, did you build a staircase while I was gone?’ He joked, rounding the corner to hopefully see you but all the air left his lungs once he had.

There you were, laid on your side at the foot of the bed in your silky robe that you usually wore for special occasions and he froze on the spot. You looked perfect. Not sure if you looked extra good because you’d made some effort or just because he hadn’t seen you in a while but all he knew was you made him feel like a kid at Christmas.

‘Hi Mase’ you whispered. Catching on to how nervous he seemed as he played with the hem of the t-shirt he was wearing and avoided your eyes but you wanted him closer no matter how blushy and stuttery he was.

‘Hi baby’ he eventually got out, eyes flashing up to yours for a split second before he sent you a lopsided smile that made your heart flutter.

‘Come here’ you told him, moving so you were now on your knees at the edge of the bed and when he approached you you cupped his jaw as he gently held your waist. ‘I’ve missed you’

‘I’ve missed you too’

‘You sure?’ You laughed, joking about the fact he could barely look you in the eye but he just laughed before looking at you properly

‘Sorry, you're making me nervous’ he whispered, his cheeks flushed but his eyes were happy and that made you smile too. ‘Can I have a kiss please’

‘Of course you can’ you chuckled, leaning in slowly for him to meet you halfway and the way he kissed you made your head spin.

‘Why are you so nervous, Mase? It's only me’ you whispered after you’d pulled away. Noticing he still couldn’t look at you properly and his cheeks and nose were a deep pink.

‘I think just after that note I left you with the shoes. I just wanted to make sure you’re fully on board like I don’t want you to think I’m forcing you into anything-‘

‘Baby no’ you laughed ‘of course I’m on board’

‘Yeah?’ He smiled and you nodded back shyly. ‘I’ve always wanted a family and I’ve always known I wanted it to be with you. I’ve wanted to try for a while but now you’re finally Mrs Mount and we’re getting settled in here, I just don’t think I can wait anymore. I know we’re young but I really think we can do this’

‘I think so too’ you smiled, nodding along to make him believe this is what you saw for your future too and the look on his face took your breath away.

‘You’re gonna be the best mum, I know it’

‘And you’re gonna be the best dad’ you whispered, watching his face light up before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

You felt his hands fiddling with the tie around your waist soon after, letting him untie it carefully before he peeled open your robe to reveal the fancy new underwear he’d bought for you and even though you were petrified about being in something so revealing, the way Masons eyes flashed over your skin made you feel weak.

‘You fucking perfect’ he whispered, fingertips lightly trailing your body as he drunk up every last inch of you. Eyes all over your body as he whispered to himself about how lucky he was and you almost felt your legs give way until his hands snaked around your body to grip your bare bum.

He was kissing you soon after, slow and sexy like he wanted to savour every last drop of you and when he placed your arms around his neck you held on tightly as he grabbed your thighs and lifted you into the air.

It always stunned you how strong Mason was. Lifting you up like it was nothing so you could wrap your legs around him but he was sitting down on the edge of the bed soon after. Letting you straddle his thighs as you continued to kiss and as soon as you were in his lap you felt him hard underneath you.

‘The way I’m feeling right now I wanna put ten babies in you’ he whispered, making you giggle as he squeezed your thighs before pushing the robe off of you completely. You tried to respond but couldn’t, Mason capturing your lips again and you moaned into his mouth as he began to help you rock your hips over his lap. Feeling him grown beneath you but soon enough he’d flipped the pair of you over so you were on your back and he was hovering over you. Ridding himself of his T-shirt and you felt the familiar wave of excitement rush down your spine and to your core. ‘All I’ve been thinking about the last few days is getting to see you like this’

‘Well I hope I didn’t disappoint’ you whispered, letting his lips ghost over your skin and when he giggled into your chest you laughed along with him.

‘You could never’ he told you truthfully before finally getting to do what he’d wanted to do with you for days. The same Mason you’d always known and loved but a new beginning on the horizon and you couldn’t wait to finally start the life you’d always dreamed of.

Thank you so much for reading 🩷 I really hope you enjoyed it and if you could leave me a little feedback that would mean so much 😘

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