#Sorry this just pisses me off so bad like we need sex education so bad it geniunely would fix a lot and i do think people fail to advocate

[surpriserose]

okay was informed aboht how colleen hoover writes sex again so i have to turn into a cringe sex ed teacher but like oh my god

Penatrative sex should not hurt!!!!!!! Anal or vaginal!!!! If you are going to penatrate your partner you should make sure one that its uh what they actually want and two make sure it doesnt fucking hurt them????? Because no shoving shit in dry is not good for anyone its not hot its not sexy it hurts and it sucks and sex should be good not shitty because your partner doesnt care about you!!!!!!!!!! Like you wouldnt want a girl going in dry penatrating you dude she isnt gonna want that shit either!!!!!!!! Also penatrative sex is not the only way to have sex even for cishet couples oh my god and if penatrative sex is consistently painful or bad for you its okay to seek out ways to improve it or other ways to have sex!!!!

[soulc-hilde]

I don’t like talking about politics, especially when in a space of people that I don’t know nor cannot guarantee that my safety will be kept in mind.

However, seeing the poll results pissed me the fuck off. Even with the final vote count that’ll come days later, he’ll still fucking win and the results between them aren’t even that far apart. To be honest, I’m not mad at the bad luck my generation and the younger ones are given.

I’m pissed the fuck off at everyone 18 and older who either didn’t vote or took this shit for a joke, thinking only of themselves because they really believed whatever bullshit they spewed out of their asses or whatever celebrity that was getting cut a fucking check.

You’re so fucking eager to side against a Black Woman, throwing all your rights and freedoms away to a white man who will put your ass on the chopping block quicker than you can say “I’m a sorry motherfucker!”

You’re so quick to deny other immigrants (documented or not) the opportunities that you have because “it doesn’t matter anymore,” or “you don’t feel like it,” or you can barely get your job to pay you what you’re worth as is. Just say that you’re a stupid piece of shit, a lazy piece of shit and stop making fucking excuses because as long as your ass ain’t on the line then who gives a fuck.

You’re so quick to have sex (protected or unprotected) but when the reality hits that you have an offspring coming - all of a suddenly you’re a scary ass bitch and want to abort the baby. Whoops, you can’t! So now you have to face going through the birthing process and hand the child into the system which is insane to me because that’s a whole mess itself.

You’re fucking kids - those ignorant ass sons of bitches (a percentage of) y’all are giving birth to are gonna find themselves in an even worse predicament because you lack of the basic common sense and comprehension of respect, they don’t give it to you - they won’t give it to each other and they for damn sure won’t give it to someone who isn’t afraid to put a bullet in their head uniform or not.

You’ve fucked your children’s education system because why in the fuck can they not read and comprehend? That’s not the school’s job, the school is built with staff that is supposed to help guide your child through their accolades. Why tf do you think preschools and daycares have potty trained and basic motor skills as a qualification for your child to be enrolled? BECAUSE THAT’S NOT THEIR JOB.

And now, you think with that mf in office, schools are gonna be safe much less progressive for your child? Don’t… don’t make me crash the fuck out.

And if you think that folks are exaggerating when they speak about the crowd that acts like their on fucking rabies for this felon - the motherfucker who openly admitted to seeing his daughter as a romantic partner - you are a danger to be around. Willingly ignoring the inspiration he gives to white supremacist, make you a fucking idiot and the reason families are being torn apart, the reason folks with brown skin and non-European features walk around with our defenses up, questioning whether or not I’m about to be fucking assaulted or harassed for existing.

And fuck your excuse of “we’ve survived him the first round, we can do it again.”

Can we? Did folks who were murdered because of prejudice views being supported by the old piece of shit survive?

Can you afford your rent? Can you afford your groceries? Can you afford to put gas in Ford Bronco or F-150? When you look at your pay and see the amount of taxes they taken out, do you fucking smile? Do you shrug it off and not complain or bitch about it?

You’re a stupid son of a bitch and when people find out who you voted for, what you stand for… I hope you reap what you sow. I hope everything that you voted against comes to be something that you desperately need.

[tuxebo]

Same person who asked with the Kamala or Donald guy.

Sorry I forgot you pissed off, I’m rn doing research, this entire situation is just so wrong. I see posts taking Israel side and others taking Palestines side. Some saying they are both not in the wrong or right.

If you want to, may you talk more this situation? Also is there anything more about Kamala? Like what is she offering for your country, anything bad she has done?

No need for apologies, I just wanted to make it clear.

Liberals want Kamala Harris in to be the first "black" woman president. That's... about it. As a black-filipino girl, that is the most racist thing. We don't vote because of a person's skin color, screw that. She already lost. Plus, she wasn't black until recently. Where did the Indian go?

As a biracial, it isn't one on a Monday and the other on a Tuesday. I'm not black if I'm not filipino and white, I'm not filipino if I'm not white and black. I'm not white if I'm not black and filipino. Does that make me tri-racial? I don't really care.

She has nothing else, literally nothing aside from her race and sex. In fact, she wants to price gouge, which is the literal definition of communism. Everyone, left, right, and center have criticized her on this. Heavily. She failed at the border, we are involved in too many wars, jobs are being stolen from the American people and given to illegals that our taxpayer dollars ALREADY GO TO (we feel this in Cali,) illiteracy is too high (In California, only 58% of fourth grade students can read at a basic level based on the most recent National Assessment of Education Progress (NAEP)), inflation is way too high under Bidenomics, crime is at an all time high and she wanted to defund the police.

Look at Democratic cities, I'll put NY AND CA on blast here, now picture all of America like that.

A large part about picking a candidate this election, for conservatives, is feeling the effects of their time in office. You have to have commonsense and be here to truly understand this part. Under Trump there were no wars, lower prices and taxes, the border was in the process of being closed and secure. He brought jobs to the American people, crimes were lower. Don't bring up Jan 6 because I'd have to talk about the Democratic George Floyd RIOTS.

Hispanics, Blacks, Asians, Whites, ─ AMERICANS need to stop believing the lies of the Democratic Party, the media and Democratic Party keep spreading misinformation. Identity politics is complete bull.

Please research: watch Trump rallies, meet MAGA supporters, look at what he's done. Prove me wrong. We are not the stereotype, you'll be surprised just how welcoming and diverse the MAGA Party is. Unfortunately there is a lot of propaganda and media censorship, so I can give some bite-size places to start if you want.

There are extremist Republicans, but they are not the majority. Most of us don't even know what Project 2025 is, that is more left bs. Trump said he doesn't want to know what Project 2025 is. A lot of us are not old, white dudes. Not at all, we are informed.

And we just don't want an incompetent, DEI President. No thank you.

[tacobellabeanburrito]

The American education system is so bad that I’ve learned more about safe sex and sex in general from the smutty fanfictions I read than my damn Sex-Ed class that I had in 5th grade.

I don’t think we even talked about safe sex or like, how our bodies and how our sexual organs work. We just talked about the basics, you know, pee-pee goes into vagina and stuff like that. Not to mention we only learned about straight sex.

Like, I know we we’re kids and stuff, but we need to know about this shit and how it works. Or else we’re gonna make bad choices and we’re gonna blame ourselves.

I literally know all the shit I know from smutty fabrications about my favorite characters. How fucked does your education system have to be that I learn more about sex and safe sex from fanfictions that your shitty education system?

Sorry, just really had to get this out. It just dawned on me all the sudden how little I knew until I started reading fanfiction. Also, sorry if this doesn’t make sense or is a little tmi. Just really needed to get this off my chest cause it just kinda made me pissed.

[darkmulti]

(Yandere and non con warning)

Def not the only one who wants a 18th century h.c of possessive and controlling, husband!Jungkook x forced wife!reader. Jungkook gets jealous after witnessing another man asking you out and when you come back home at night, he breeds you. Please make it rough and non con. Thank you❤️‍🔥

-> you’re definitely not the only one. I can assure you that I’ve thought about this too many times😫

⚠️: NON CON, YANDERE!JUNGKOOK, Squirting/piss play, Physically, mental and emotional abuse, spit play,

-> sorry for any mistakes

Your parents owned a local bakery store

All the recipes were from your late grandmother

You spent almost all of your time there because you were in charge of everything

The store was under your parents’ name but you were the one running it

Sometimes, you even slept there because it’d be too late to walk home

Your dedication to the bakery made it successful

Although, you were the one doing all the work, you parents took all the credit and money

They weren’t paying you because you’re their child

They don’t need to pay you

“It’s a women’s place.” Your father said

You wanted to go back to school however, your parents laughed in your face

“School aren’t for girls, Y/N. Learn how to cook and clean. That’s all you need to know. Let the men handle everything else.”

You were tired of fighting with them and eventually stopped because they threatened to set you up in an arrange marriage

Now, it was just you and the bakery

You had many loyal customers and recently, one has been coming everyday, at the same time

He’d always buy a loaf of banana bread and if he was in a good mood, a blueberry muffin as well

Then, he’d sit in the corner table and eat two - three slices before getting up and leaving

He’d always leave a tip behind and you always kept it for yourself

One day, he didn’t come and you were surprised

For a year straight, he came and bought the same two things

Now, he hasn’t visited in 4 days

Tonight, you came back home for the first time in a while

Your parents had visited the bakery to collect “their” earnings and told you that you have to go somewhere with them that evening

After closing up and cleaning up, you went home and got ready

Your parents were taking you out for dinner as a treat for all your hard work

You were really excited because they were finally acknowledging your hard work

Once you arrived at the restaurant, your parents lead you to a table that already had three people seated

You immediately recognize one of them

It’s that guy who buys your banana loaf!

You sat in front of him while your parents greeted the two other strangers

“Oh, so this is your daughter? She’s gorgeous! Come here and give me a hug.”

You awkwardly chuckled and got up to hug the middle aged women

“Oh! Where are my manners? My name is Jeon F/N, this is my husband, Jeon F/N and this is our son, Jeon Jungkook. We’re your soon to be in laws!”

You heart dropped to the floor

“I-in laws?” You asked, confused

“Yeah, honey. Is this your first time hearing about this? We’ve been talking to your parents for a while now.”

You snapped your head towards you parents and they looked emotionless

“No, no they didn’t tell me anything.”

Dinner with them was hell

Your parents were talking about your wedding arrangements right in front of you

You didn’t know what to do

You wanted to rebel but then your parents would disown you

Just like that, you’d be homeless with little money to survive

In the end, you’d be paying the heavy price

You looked at Jungkook who was staring at you the whole time

You wondered if he knew about this

Maybe, that’s why he came to the bakery everyday

“Did you know anything about this?” You said loud enough for him to hear

“I did.”

“For how long?”

“Since last year.”

You eyes widen, in shock

You were right!

“Why didn’t you stop it?”

“Why would I stop it when I’m the one who wants it?”

You scrunch your eyebrows, in confusion

“What’re you talking about?”

“Since the first day I met you, I wanted to marry you. I told my parents and now, we’re getting married.”

Now, you were mad

You got up and stormed off, catching everyone’s attention

You walked to the bakery and locked yourself in

Here, you thought your parents were acknowledging you for first time, when they were actually setting you up for a marriage so they don’t have to take care of you

You cried yourself to sleep that night

The next couple of weeks, the bakery was closed due to your wedding

The wedding was spectacular

You would’ve love it if you weren’t being forced into a marriage

After the wedding, Jungkook took your precious virginity

He made sure to pleasure you until you passed out

He was so in love with you

Now, he was finally able to show you how much he loved you

And mark you as his

The next couple of months, he was attached to you

He took over his family’s business and you took over your family’s business

He’d visit you every day at work to check if you’re with another man

He was so paranoid about it, sometimes he’d come by 3 or 4 times to make sure you were not cheating

You thought he missed you and that’s why he kept stopping by (which is half true) however, you had no idea that he was possessive and controlling

You had to learn the hard way

Sometimes, you wouldn’t leave work until midnight

You had so much things to do like preparing for the next day, making a to-do list, making a grocery lists, and cleaning every area of the shop

It’s time consuming, so obviously you finish up pretty late

Jungkook absolutely hates that

Although you stay late in the shop once in a while, he can’t stand it

He wants you to be in his arms every night

Jungkook gets angry when you’re not

This was your fourth time staying out late in the shop and he’s had enough

He couldn’t help but feel paranoid about what you were actually doing in the shop

What if you lied and went on a date with another man?

What if you were running away from him?

Or even worse, what if you were having sex with another guy?

He raced to the bakery and banged on the door, which scared you

You saw that it was him and let him in

“W-what’s wrong?! You scared me!”

“Grab your stuff, we’re going home.”

“But I’m not done yet! I only have a couple more things to do and then I’ll come home. I told you already-”

“I don’t think you fucking heard me!” He yelled and grabbed your hair

“Grab your shit, we are leaving right now.”

He pushed you towards the counter and crossed his arms

You let your breath out in shock but scurry to get your stuff

You’ve never seen him like this and it terrified you

“I have my stuff.”

“Good, let’s go.”

He helped you lock the door and wrapped his arm around your waist

The walk home was silent

You were scared shitless

All you wanted to do was run back into your parents’ house

But he didn’t let you move an inch away from him

Once you got home, he started pushing you around and arguing some more

“Jungkook, I told you this afternoon when you came to visit! I said I have to stay late so I don’t have to stress myself out in the morning!”

“Don’t fucking lie to me! Who were you fucking seeing?!” He screamed, frightening you more

“No one! I swear, no one!” You whimpered

He corned you into your shared room and locked the door

“Jungkook, I swear! Nothing happened!”

He didn’t believe a single word coming out of your mouth

It was like you were talking to a wall

He pushed you onto the bed and stripped you naked

Jungkook pushed two fingers into your cunt and pretended to scoop out cum

“If nothing happened, why is your cunt full of cum?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! I didn’t have sex with anyone!”

You weren’t very educated about sex, so Jungkook had an advantage

You began apologizing even though you didn’t have sex with anyone

You just wanted peace between you two

“I’m sorry! I didn’t cheat or anything, but I’m sorry if it hurt you! I really am!”

Jungkook slapped you and spat on your face

“Dirty slut. Telling me that you’re not cheating but still apologizing.”

“No! Please, I didn’t do anything!”

Jungkook pulled his cock out and shoved it in without warning

You were still new to sex so when he didn’t let you adjust, you automatically started screaming and crying

“Please, slower!” You cried, holding onto his biceps as he went faster and deeper

“Stop! Please!”

Jungkook loved the sound of his balls clapping against your ass

It honestly made him harder

All night, he was on top, fucking you hard

Your legs were spread apart, tears in your eyes and sweat dripping down your forehead

You looked like a hot mess

And he loved every second of it

“Mmh- Jungkook!”

You squirted around him and had a trembling orgasm

You couldn’t stop releasing your liquids on him and he couldn’t stop pounding you

The bed sheet was soaked by the end of it

He pushed his cock deep inside and came

After Jungkook fell asleep, you cried for while

How were you supposed to tolerate him for the rest of your life?

The next morning

You woke up in severe pain

You lower region was begging for some pain relief

But there was nothing you could do about it

Jungkook was still sleeping next to you

You decided to leave before he wakes up

After getting ready by leaning on everything, you slowly walked to town

When you arrived at the bakery, you saw a big “for sale” sign

You panicked and went inside the store, only to be greeted by your parents

“Mother, father! Why is there a “for sale” sign on the bakery?”

You parents looked at each other in disappointment

“You see, we have to explain the obvious to your daughter. Be grateful that someone willingly married your idiot daughter.” Your father said before walking out

His words did hurt but you cared about the bakery more than your father

“Why’re you selling it, mother? Can you not afford it anymore? Why-”

“Shut up, Y/N! You’re married now, you have wifely duties. You don’t have time for this bakery so the best option is to sell it.”

Your world fell apart right before your eyes

“But mother-”

“Save it. You already made your father upset. I’m warning you now, you don’t want to get on my bad side.”

You cried the whole morning

After you opened the bakery, lots of people gathered in line

All breads, cakes and muffins were going on sale

After you served the people in line, you went up to the tables and took their order

After you served them, a regular customer who was sitting alone gestured you to come over

You went over to the man and asked him if he needed anything

He told you to take a seat and accompany him

Since the crowd died down, you sat down in front of him

“You look a bit stressed and sad. What’s on your mind?”

You were touched by his words

Finally, someone cared about you

You told him you were upset about the bakery closing

He understood and even offered money to help you keep it open

You were flattered but didn’t accept the money

“Money’s not a problem, my parents just don’t want to keep this shop open.”

You talked with this guy for a couple of hours

Although this was your first time talking to him, you talked to him like he was your best friend

When closing time came around, he got up and asked you out on a date

You didn’t know what to do

You were married but you really liked this guy

You were considering saying yes when someone pulled his shoulder back and punched him across the face

“Jungkook! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“You think I didn’t see that?! I saw it all. I saw you flirting with my wife for three hours straight and then asking her out on a date!”

Jungkook beat the crap out of the guy and pushed him outside

He then came back in the store, looking at you with devil eyes

“Yesterday’s punishment clearly wasn’t enough.”

The entire way home, he was yelling at you, slapping you, spitting on you, pulling your hair, pushing you to the ground and choking you

You were crying the whole time, apologizing over and over

When you arrived home, he seriously had no mercy on you

No foreplay, no lube, no adjusting

Just a raw, thick cock being forced into you

You were begging him to let you go but tonight, nothing was going to stop him

He was moving his hips insanely fast, not giving you enough time to breathe

You were choking on your own sobs

“Jungkook, please no! I’m sorry!”

“Why did you hesitate to deny his offer? You are a married fucking women!” With each word a hard thrust followed, knocking all the air out of you

“Answer me! Is he better than me? Does he take care of you? Does he provide money for you? TELL ME!” He was yelling so loudly, it was making you cry harder

“N-no, he doesn’t. He was just the first person to care about me.” You whispered the last sentence but, Jungkook was able to make it out

“Are you saying that I don’t care about you?”

He got more aggressive and fastened his pace

“Tell me, Y/N! Do you think that I don’t care about you?!”

You couldn’t answer him because you couldn’t catch your breath

He was going too fast and you were crying so hard, you couldn’t breathe

Jungkook noticed how much you were struggling and added onto your struggle by holding your neck down

“Apologize, right now Jeon Y/N!”

You softly apologize but it wasn’t good enough for him

He lifted your legs a little, giving him better access and fucked you till you squirted

This time you sobbed your apology and begged for forgiveness

“I’m so sorry, Jungkook! It’ll never— ah! It’ll never happen again! I’m so sorry! Please for- forgive me for my dumb m-mistake. Please! I’m begging you.” You held onto the bed sheet, praying he would stop

He huskily growled and pushed his cock in deep

“For the next 9 months you’ll be swelling with my baby. Now, everyone can back off.”

He shot his hot cum right into you, filling you up to the rim

Sorry for any mistakes. It’s 3:41am 😄

[adenei]

Ch. 1 - How to Win a Witch in 10 Days

AO3 | FFN

Summary: “She’s going to find some unsuspecting wizard, get him to fall for her, and then do all the things that turn men away to get him to break things off! Won’t it be the best way to see what witches do that drives men crazy?” But what happens when the man in question is a blast from Lily Evans's past? A Jily Magical AU based on the romantic comedy "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days."

Thursday, Pt. 1

Lily Evans sits down at her desk. It’s a typical Thursday morning at the office of Witch Weekly for the ‘How To’ columnist. Parchment is strewn about everywhere due to a hasty departure the night before, but with a flick of her wand, the papers arrange themselves into neat piles. Satisfied with the restored order, she turns to her magical typewriter and the most recent article that lies next to it: How To Make the Transition from Hogwarts Graduate to Adult.

She smiles at her hard work and hopes that this time Amelia will go for her pitch. A new batch of Hogwarts students graduated last week, and this was the type of information she would have loved to have when she finished her education three years ago. Being a Muggleborn made the transition into life as an independent witch more difficult. There aren’t many resources to help young adults find their way in magical society, and even though she met with Professor McGonagall numerous times about her future, the meetings weren’t as helpful as Lily preferred.

Perhaps this is why Lily lives in a small flat in muggle London and commutes to the office via taxi or apparition to Diagon Alley every day, depending on her mood. She tucks the article safely into a desk drawer before setting about her first task of the day: coming up with new ideas for future articles. Grabbing a blank piece of parchment, Lily begins brainstorming as more how to article ideas begin flitting through her mind.

Lily always knew she wanted to be a writer. The excitement she felt after securing a job at the highly respected go-to magazine for witches was only to be rivaled with receiving her Hogwarts letter at the age of eleven. At least, that’s how she used to feel. Now, she’s stuck in a perpetual wheel of pushing out article after article on how to incorporate the newest beauty, fashion, and health trends that flow into the magical world faster than a Cornish Pixie prison break.

Lily shakes her head as she writes down another idea: How To Secure an Interview for the Job of Your Dreams. She’s sick of all the superficial fluff she’s been writing for the past two years. It’s time for something more.

“Morning!” Alice chirps as she passes Lily’s cubicle.

“Good morning!” Lily gives Alice a warm smile in return.

Alice Fortescue is one of her closest colleagues and friends at the publishing company. That’s the one perk of this job, working with some amazing people.

“Amelia called a staff meeting in thirty minutes. Have you seen Marlene?”

Lily feels as if a bludger has knocked the wind out of her. She was so preoccupied this morning that she didn’t realize her best friend of ten years wasn’t at her desk.

“No, she hasn’t shown up yet,” Lily worries.

Marlene has recently been dumped—again—and she is never one to take a break-up lightly, even if said relationship only lasted a few weeks.

Alice sighs. “I’ll get the coffee, you floo to her place?”

Lily nods and grabs her bag, following Alice toward the exit. She digs a knut out of her purse and places it into the slot before grabbing a handful of floo powder. It’s common courtesy to donate money to replace the office’s stock if you use it for anything other than transportation to or from your residence.

She tosses the powder into the fireplace and steps into the green flames, announcing Marlene’s address in a clear, firm voice. Lily prepares herself for the sensation of the ground dropping out from below her as she free falls into the imaginary slide that transports her where she needs to go. The trip is short, and within seconds she is stepping out of the fireplace into Marlene’s flat.

“Marly? You here?” Lily calls.

Her best friend tiptoes out of the kitchen, still in her dressing gown. She’s carrying a cup of tea close to her face to hide her puffy eyes.

“Oh, Marly, I’m so sorry,” Lily reaches out to comfort her friend with a hug.

Lily takes the cup of tea from her hands and steers Marlene to her bedroom. “I know how hard break-ups can be, but we’ve got a staff meeting in twenty minutes, and I’m not going to let you lose your job over another lousy guy.”

Lily doesn’t notice Marlene crawling back into bed as she busies herself with sifting through outfits in her friend’s closet.

“But what we had was special, Lil! I really thought he was different! He could have been the one!”

“How long were you seeing him?” Lily asks, trying to recall any details of Marlene’s latest fling.

“Only a week,” she pouts.

Lily freezes midway through pulling a dress from the closet. She knows this is Marlene’s M.O. but Lily still can’t help but feel frustrated.

“Marly, really—”

“Don’t! I know what you’re thinking, but he was special, I’m telling you! We even had sex and everything. It was magical. I cried…”

“You what? Marly, tell me it was just a glisten of tears,” Lily wills her friend to say it isn’t as bad as she thinks.

“Oh no, I full-on bawled,” Marlene responds, not even attempting to lie, “told him I loved him, too.”

Lily wishes her best friend is kidding but they have been friends long enough for Lily to know that she’s not. With a silent sigh, Lily switches gears. She realizes she can’t take the sympathetic route anymore. No, Marlene needs tough love. She strolls over to the bed with the outfit in hand and plops down.

“Marlene, I know you’re a hopeless romantic looking for your Prince Charming, but in order to find him, you’re going to have to put yourself together and get back out there. You’re not going to find him wallowing in bed all day. Now come on, you’ve got fifteen minutes to get dressed so we can get to work and not piss off Amelia. Alice is out getting coffee right now.”

Lily yanks back the bedspread, forcing Marlene to get up, albeit begrudgingly.

There, one potential crisis averted for the day.

Ten minutes later, Lily floos back to the office after ensuring Marlene goes first. They run into Alice on their way back to their desks, and there’s just enough time for Alice to dole out the coffees before grabbing their notes and heading down the hall to their boss’s extravagant office.

Amelia Bones is the no-nonsense editor-in-chief of Witch Weekly, who is well respected by her staff. Her office is spacious yet welcoming and not at all like what one might expect. Where a conference table and chairs should be, Amelia has sofas and squashy chairs, similar to the Gryffindor common room. When the writers meet to go over stories for upcoming publications, they gather there. The three girls barely make it in time, taking their seats on the sofa nearest Ms. Bones. It’s the only empty spot left.

Amelia clears her throat. It’s all she needs to do to command the attention of her staff. “Alright, let’s get started everyone. We need to go over assignments for the July issue. Dorcas, what are you thinking this month?”

Dorcas, the office suck-up, bounces up and down in her seat as she lays out her laundry list of articles. “I’ve got an exposé on gilly water with an exclusive interview from a mermaid who says it will help keep you thin, but I haven’t come up with a title yet. And Traveling by Portkey: What to Pack and Not to Pack. Then, I’ve also got an interview set up with Madam Malkin, who details the latest robe trends. Oh! And I almost forgot about my outline of A Look Into a Day in the Life of The Hobgoblins!”

Lily needs to remember to keep her face passive as Dorcas prattles on. Does she do anything besides work? Who has time for four articles? She has to suppress the eye roll that’s threatening when she catches Alice’s glance. It’s evident her friend is sharing the same thoughts.

“Wonderful, wonderful. Lily, what’s our resident How To girl have in store for us this month?”

Here goes nothing…

“Well, actually, I’ve been working on this piece that I think will be a great spin on the How To article. It’s about helping recent Hogwarts graduates find their footing after they finish their seventh year.”

She gauges the room for reception and notices blank stares coming from the entire writing team. Fighting to keep her facial expression passive, Lily chances a glance at her boss, whose opinion is the one that matters most. There’s an uncomfortable churn in her stomach as a result.

Amelia clicks her tongue in a disapproving tone. “Lily, Lily, Lily. How many times do I have to tell you that most of our clientele are in their twenties and thirties? No one is going to want to read something like that! That’s what they have parents and families for! Besides, aren’t the Hogwarts professors supposed to help the young ones with their career choices? That’s not our wheelhouse.”

“But—”

Lily wants to bring up the Muggleborn perspective, but Amelia doesn’t give her the chance.

“Lily, your job is to write the How To column for Witch Weekly, not to help recent grads find their place in this world. I hired you to write fun, upbeat stories that will help witches in all aspects of their lives, and that is what I expect.” Lily’s shoulders droop in disappointment as Amelia wastes no time moving on to her next victim. “Marlene?”

“Oh, um, I—I’m still thinking—” Marlene stutters.

Lily notices Amelia’s hard stare and speaks up on her friend’s behalf.

“Amelia, Marlene’s going through a rough time right now. She got dumped.”

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry, Marlene,” Amelia sympathizes as the rest of the group murmurs their respects to her unfortunate news.

Marlene grimaces as she explains, “Yes, I’m sorry, Amelia. I’ve been taking things a bit hard and haven’t really been eating. It’s just hard to move on when I thought he was—” she hiccups and Lily can tell she’s stifling a sob, “the one.”

“Hmm, yes, that is a predicament, isn’t it?” Amelia agrees before perking up. “Write about it.”

“What?”

“You can make an article out of that, can’t you?” Amelia asks the question as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“N-no! I can’t write about my personal life!” Marlene argues.

“If she won’t, I will,” Dorcas chimes in. She sounds too eager at the prospect of taking on a fifth article.

Amelia’s eyebrows crease as she ponders Dorcas’s proposition. Lily is horrified that Amelia is even considering this and decides to step in.

“Or I can!”

“What?” Marlene looks at her with wide eyes as Amelia trains her narrow gaze on Lily.

“How?” her boss wants to know.

“Well, I—I wouldn’t write about the break-up, per se, since that wouldn’t be a good How To article, but what if I turned it into something different?”

Lily is grasping at straws, trying to come up with something that would prevent her friend’s dirty laundry from being hung out to dry. She finds herself stuttering and stalling until suddenly, an idea pops in her head.

“What if I wrote the opposite of getting dumped? Well, it wouldn’t exactly be the opposite, but I’d find a guy and do all the classic things that women do that drive men away. Instead of trying to win the guy over, I’ll get him to dump me instead. Then readers will know what to do and what not to do.”

Lily watches her boss for any indication that she approves. Amelia’s pensive look quickly turns to a conspiring smile as she points her quill at Lily with a gleam in her eyes.

“That’s brilliant, Lily, absolutely brilliant! You think you can find a man, win him over and get him to dump you?”

“Well, when you put it that way…” Lily doesn’t appreciate her boss’s insinuation that she’d be easy to break up with, but if it gets Amelia off Marlene’s back, she’ll take it.

“I can see it now. We’ll call it How To Lose a Guy in Ten Days.”

Lily is relieved, having succeeded in giving Marlene extra time to come up with a story, but the timeframe concerns her.

“Um, Amelia...why ten days?”

“Because we have to publish in eleven.”

She says this as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. And it’s only after Lily processes Amelia’s words that she realizes how impossible it all seems. She hasn’t dated anyone in a while. No one is even on her radar to date.

Looks like my Thursday is now going to be spent looking for an unsuspecting suitor.

Lily stifles a sigh as she attempts to focus on the rest of the meeting, but her mind has other plans. She fixates on whether or not she’ll be able to pull this off. It seems impossible, but she has no choice. She has to at least try.

As they exit the meeting, Lily, Alice, and Marlene are trailing behind Amelia, who is on her way to fetch her next appointment.

“If I’m going to pull this off, I need to find a guy tonight,” Lily expresses to her friends.

“Don’t worry, we’ll help!” Alice reassures her. “Let’s go to that swanky bar after work. The prospect of this article calls for a finer crowd.”

“Abbott's?” Lily shoots an incredulous look at her friend.

At first, she wants to protest, but Alice has a point. Lily needs to dupe a guy who’s not just out for a one-night stand, and there are no promises that she’ll be able to find that at the Leaky. No, she needs to glam up and go all-out to find a guy. One that shows promise, but not too much promise because she can’t let herself fall for him anyway.

Her thoughts are cut off as Alice and Marlene both stop, causing her to stumble into them. She looks up to see the source of their delay. Amelia has reached her destination, which happens to be directly in front of them as she greets two women. Lily isn’t quite sure why they didn’t swerve and continue around them.

“...Ah, Narcissa, Andromeda, it’s so nice to meet you! Come with me to my office so we can discuss the ads for this issue. I’m hoping you can help us spice up our pages through your clientele.” Amelia turns and sees Lily and her colleagues standing there. A friendly smile crosses her face as the three realize they’ve been caught eavesdropping and scurry to get back to their cubicles.

Lily returns the smile and looks to the two women to see the blonde eyeing her, a sense of intrigue dancing in her eyes. She wonders what that’s about.

“Aren’t you the How To girl?” the blonde asks.

Lily’s not sure what she’s expecting the woman to say, but it’s not that. It takes her a moment to respond.

“Um, yes. It’s Lily, Lily Evans. Nice to meet you.”

Lily doesn’t bother to extend a polite hand because of the blonde’s now scrutinizing gaze. She’s ready to turn and walk away before the awkward conversation can continue, but Amelia stops in her tracks.

“Yes! Lily is wonderful, isn’t she? She’s just about to start on her newest article: How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days. Doesn’t it sound exciting?”

The darker haired woman raises an eyebrow. “It does. What does that entail?”

Lily opens her mouth to speak, but Amelia cuts her off again. “She’s going to find some unsuspecting wizard, get him to fall for her, and then do all the things that turn men away to get him to break things off! Won’t it be the best way to see what witches do that drives men crazy?”

“That does sound interesting,” the blonde responds.

“Yes, fascinating,” agrees the brunette in a bored tone.

Lily doesn’t appreciate their judgemental stares and chooses to dismiss herself. “Thanks. It was nice meeting you,” she lies as she continues on toward her office.

The day is young, but she no longer has time to waste. She needs to develop her plan before setting out to find a wizard later in the evening. This is turning out to be the most peculiar assignment yet, but if Lily can pull it off, then maybe Amelia will give her a chance on the other articles she has in her queue.

You’ve got this, Evans. Now get to work.

[theladyofdeath]

Alone in the Ashes {2}

A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfction, characters belong to Sarah J Maas. Modern au. Revolves around Nesta x Cassian, Feyre x Rhysand, and Elain x Azriel. Other characters appear throughout. Based on multiple prompts sent in by anons tbr below.

Warning: Mature content. Alcohol abuse, verbal abuse, sex, language, eating disorders.

For summary & chapter index, click >  Alone in the Ashes {Acotar}

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: And so it begins.

Comment to tell me what you think, or to be tagged! x

“When you spend so long trapped in darkness, Lucien, you find that the darkness begins to stare back.” ― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“I’m so sorry, you poor bastard,” Feyre breathed, after learning that Cassian now lived across the hall from her eldest sister. 

He chuckled, drinking from his glass. “She doesn’t seem that bad. That guy of hers seems like a real prick, though.”

Feyre snorted. “Don’t get me started.”

Cassian opened his mouth to speak but Rhysand leaned over. “No, seriously, don’t get her started.”

Feyre nudged him in the shoulder, causing him to laugh. “Anyway, where’s Azriel? He said he’d be here by now.” 

“Had to go get Mila,” Cassian said, finishing off his glass. “Unexpectedly. Just texted about a half hour ago. There was an incident, apparently. The police called this time.”

Feyre nodded, understandingly. It wasn’t the first time Azriel’s plans had changed last minute, but when he was called on, he always went to get Mila. 

Rhysand waved the bartender over, calling for another beer. “Karaoke night. Added you to the list, Feyre.”

Feyre froze. “Uh, no. I’m not going up there. Not after last time.”

Cassian grinned as Rhysand said, “I thought you gave a beautiful rendition of Like a Virgin.” 

“Fuck you,” she murmured, and cursed herself for smiling.

A live band played in the corner, the lead singer getting far too into it. He’d taken his shirt off and given it to a drunk girl cheering him on about thirty minutes before, and after that, Feyre just hadn’t been able to take him seriously. 

“Alright, I’ve had enough sadness,” Feyre said, hopping off her bar stool and handing her tall glass to Rhysand. “Come on, Cass. We’re going to dance.”

Cassian groaned, but it was all for show, because the moment he was on the dance floor, he had his arms around Feyre’s waist and he was swinging her around. 

“You should ask Rhys!” Cassian yelled into her ear above the music. “He’s a better dancer than me!”

“But this is how I get all the ladies to notice you!” Feyre yelled back, grinning from ear to ear. 

Cassian laughed, and spun her in a circle. 

Feyre loved to dance. She didn’t do it often, only when she went out with the boys. She used to dance with Mor, but she was always busy with school, lately, since she decided to further her education. She wanted to be a doctor. How selfish. 

She had called her on the way to the bar, with Rhysand in the car with her, behind the wheel. 

Stop studying and come dance with me, she had said into the phone.

Mor had laughed. It’s finals week! A few more days and I get to come home for the summer. Then, we will dance, I promise. 

Until then, she had Cassian. 

And every time Feyre brought Cassian out onto the dance floor, the girls gravitated toward him. 

True enough, as the second the song ended and another was beginning, a tall, blonde woman with a short black dress and combat boots had come up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. The second he turned to face her, Feyre hurried away. 

Rhysand was laughing, watching the scene unfold. He handed Feyre her glass as she sat back on her stool.

“Works every time.”

“You’re the greatest wing man,” Rhysand agreed, pressing his bottle to his lips. “Alright, now it’s my turn.”

He set his glass on the bar top before standing up and holding out his hand. Feyre drained her glass before putting her hand in his. 

He pulled her close to his body. He smelled of lavender and vanilla.

“Have you been using my soap?” she asked, leaning forward to talk into his ear. 

He laughed, his breath hot against the side of her face as he said, “That depends...will you be pissed if I said yes?”

“Damn it, Rhys,” she said, unable to stop her grin as one of his hands found her waist, the other still in her hand. 

They danced, and Feyre found herself loving every minute of it. Everything came so natural with Rhys. For the first time in a long time, Feyre was enjoying herself without any thought of all she had been going through. 

That joy was nice, while it lasted.

Because half an hour later, Rhysand was pulled back by the shoulder and knocked to the floor by a fist that belonged to a man, all too familiar.

“What the fuck?” Feyre yelled, looking into Tamlin’s deep, green eyes.

“I knew it,” he hissed. “I fucking knew it.”

It was what he had accused her of, once more, when she was at his apartment that morning, getting the rest of her things.

You fucking Rhys, yet? He’d asked.

Feyre never answered him. She just got the box of her shit and left.

Rhysand was back on his feet, a bruise already forming on his eye bone, Cassian having come to Feyre’s side. 

“Fucking whore,” Tamlin spat, then Cassian was standing in front of Feyre.

“You need to leave,” Rhysand said, as the music died down, obvious that there was a scene about to play out.

Feyre was mortified. 

“Why?” Tamlin asked, turning around to face Rhysand. “This is a public space, I am just as welcome here as anyone else.”

“No,” Rhysand said, eyes narrowed. “You’re not.”

“Says the guy that was just knocked on his ass.”

Cassian took a step closer to Tamlin’s back, just as Rhysand took a step closer in front of him. “You need to leave, Tam.”

“Tam,” he repeated the old nickname. “Been a while since I heard that from you. Or Feyre, for that matter. But, I suppose she would stop calling me by my nickname the moment she started fucking you-”

Rhysand’s fist met Tamlin’s jaw, and Tamlin stumbled, catching himself before he could fall onto the floor. 

Feyre’s eyes went wide as blood trickled out of the side of Tamlin’s mouth.

Tamlin started forward, but Cassian intervened, pushing Tamlin back by his shoulders. He whispered something feral into his ear, which made Tamlin stop. He looked from Feyre to Rhysand, shook his head, and walked out. Cassian looked back at the band, and said, “Where’s the music?”

They started up again and people began dancing like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. 

Feyre’s hands were shaking, though, as she excused herself and hurried to the restroom. She locked herself inside of a stall and cried.

She was pissed.

Pissed at Tamlin, pissed at the sight of him, pissed that he came to ruin her night.

She was pissed at Rhysand, pissed that he’d punched her ex. He was better that than, better than to stoop to Tamlin’s level.

She was pissed at herself. Pissed that she cared. Pissed that it bothered her at all. 

The door opened, and loud footsteps trailed to the other side of the stall door. 

“Feyre.” A soft knock. “Open up.”

“Fuck off,” she said, wiping at her eyes.

“Open the door or I’ll crawl underneath and this floor is disgusting.”

Angrily, Feyre unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Rhysand was standing there, arms crossed. The bruise beneath his eye was turning a soft shade of blue. “I’m sor-”

“I’m ready to go home.”

Rhysand frowned. He reached out for her hand, and she let him take it. He pulled her toward him, into his chest, and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry. Okay? I got pissed. I caused a scene. I’m sorry.”

“You can’t just go around hitting people,” she said, voice muffled into his shirt. 

“I know,” he said.

“And I can stand up for myself without the two of you brutes causing a scene,” she said, referring to him and Cassian, who was most likely back to dancing with the tall blonde.

“I know,” he said, and leaned back, taking her face into her hands.

His eyes were full of worry, full of regret.

She understood where Tamlin was coming from, she supposed, in the fact that it would not be the craziest thing for Feyre to end up with Rhys. He was her best friend and she loved him, more than she loved most people, differently than she loved anyone else. 

But they had never done anything. They had only ever been friends.

“Let’s go back out there. Drinks are on me,” he said.

“I thought they were already on you,” Feyre said, and Rhysand grinned, although it didn’t meet his eyes.

“I am sorry,” he said. “You can hit me, if you want.”

“Tempting,” Feyre mumbled, before pushing against his chest. “I’m going to poke you in your bruise when you least expect it.”

Rhysand laughed. “Feel better, do you?”

Feyre rolled her eyes, then pressed her lips to his cheek. Rhysand tensed, but it quickly faded. “Thank you for defending my honor, you savage caveman.” 

Rhysand’s smile was contagious as he took her hand and led her back into the bar.

He called for the bartender and ordered a round of shots. 

~~~~~

“Hungry?” Azriel asked, looking in the rear view mirror of his truck.

Mila sat in the backseat, her pink Velcro shoes kicking wildly. “Yes. I want chicken nuggets.”

Azriel chuckled. “You always want chicken nuggets.”

“Yeah,” she said, as if it were obvious, “because they’re yummy.”

“Alright,” he said, “but then we have to go home and get ready for bed. Okay?” 

“Okay,” she said, slowly. “When can I see Rhysie?”

Mila loved Rhysand more than anyone else. He was her man.

“Tomorrow, maybe. He’s not home tonight.”

“Is he somewhere being naughty?” she asked, giggling.

Azriel snorted. “Probably.”

He pulled into the parking lot of a fast food restaurant and parked. He unbuckled her car seat and carried her inside on his hip. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck.

After ordering, they sat near a window and ate chicken nuggets, french fries, and chocolate shakes.

“Is mama okay?” she asked, looking up at Azriel with big, brown eyes. 

She may have only been four, but she saw far more than most people thought she did. Her mother, included.

Azriel set down the chicken nugget he was about to eat. “Yeah, babe. She just...she needs to get a little help, you know?”

Mila nodded, slowly, not quite understanding. “Help?”

“Yeah, from a doctor,” he explained, popping the chicken nugget into his mouth. “Here, know what you should try?”

Mila blinked. “What?” 

He took the lid off her chocolate shake and dipped a french fry into it before putting it into his mouth.

Mila scrunched her nose. “Ewww!”

“You don’t know if it’s ewww until you try it,” he winked. “Try it and I’ll give you a dollar.”

Mila’s eyes grew wide. “A whole dollar?”

Azriel nodded. “Mhmm.”

“Fine,” she said, sassily, before dipping a french fry into her milkshake. She took a bite and thought about it for a second. “That’s yummy.”

“Told you so,” Azriel said, before dipping another french fry into her milkshake.

She stuck her tongue out at him. 

He stuck his tongue out at her, too.

She giggled, and continued to eat. 

And once she was full, Azriel carried her back to his truck and strapped her into her car seat before taking her back to his apartment. The minute he pulled in, she was already fast asleep. She’d had a big day.

He carried her up the stairs and unlocked his apartment door. After slipping off his shoes, he carried her to the back room, the guest room, which was dominantly covered in Mila’s belongings, and laid her down. He took off her shoes and covered her with a blanket.

Mila flopped around before she opened her eyes, sleepily. With a yawn, she said, “G’night, Uncle Az.” 

“Goodnight, babe,” he whispered, and kissed her forehead before clicking on a batman nightlight and cracking the door behind him. 

He meandered into the living room and slumped down in his chair. He grabbed the remote but didn’t turn on the t.v. 

It wasn’t the first time it had happened.

And it wasn’t that he didn’t like having Mila. He loved having his niece with him, but that wasn’t the point, that wasn’t what pissed him off.

Mila was only four, living in a world she didn’t deserve. She was tossed into a situation the moment she had been born that wasn’t fair. 

He fished his phone out of his pocket to see if anyone had called, but his screen was blank. Unsure of what happened with his sister after he’d picked up Mila from the police, Azriel tossed his phone on the side table, turned on the t.v., and settled back into the comfort of his lazyboy. 

Mila believed that the crack of dawn was an appropriate time to wake up.

He’d better get some sleep.

~~~~~

“Mother’s tits, Feyre, your breath smells like shit.”

Rhysand had carried her up the stairs, and she had giggled in his face the entire time. By the time they were inside of their apartment and he was dropping her on the couch, he could hardly breathe from the overwhelming scent of tequila. 

“Thank you for carrying me,” she sang, reaching up for him.

Rhysand shook his head, slipping off one of her sandals, then the other. “You are so fucking drunk.” 

“Says the guy that gave me the shots,” she laughed, and then Rhysand turned on a light and she groaned. “Turn it off!”

Rhysand grinned. “Alright, come on. Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed.”

“No,” she said, yawning, snuggling into the couch. “This is where I’m staying tonight. Right. Fuckin. Here.”

“Let’s at least brush your teeth,” Rhysand said, laughing quietly. “And take a quick shower.”

“You just wanna see me naked,” she slurred.

Rhysand lifted a brow. “If I wanted to see you naked, I would’ve made up an excuse a long time ago. Come on.” 

A lie, but she cooperated, nonetheless.

She clung to him as she stumbled down the hallway. And when she fell into the little bathroom, Rhysand flicked on a light, causing her to groan again. Rhysand, paying her whininess no mind, lifted her up onto the counter top of the vanity and turned on the sink. He grabbed her toothbrush, and put toothpaste on it, before handing it to her.

She blew a raspberry at him.

Rhysand shook his head, exasperated. “Very mature. Open up.”

“No.”

“Come on, Feyre, open up.”

“Nooooo.”

“Open your fucking mouth, Feyre,” Rhysand laughed, pulling at her bottom lip. 

“Fine,” she groaned, obnoxiously, and opened her mouth, wide.

Rhysand, oh so patiently, brushed her teeth for her. “Spit,” he ordered. She did so. Then, he handed her a tiny cup full of water. “Rinse.” She did that, too.

“Better?” he asked, rinsing off her toothbrush before putting it back in the holder. 

When he looked back to Feyre, she was staring at him. “You’re really fucking pretty.”

Rhysand snorted. “So I’m told.”

She took his face in her hands and squeezed his cheeks. His lips popped out as he rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna start the shower. Alright?”

She shook her head. “No, not yet.”

Her voice had grown quiet, her hands on his face loosening. “Do you love me, Rhysand?”

Rhysand lifted a brow as Feyre’s hands trailed down his cheeks, his neck, to his chest, where they rested over his heart. “You know I do.”

“Your heart is beating super fast,” she slurred, eyes bright.

“You are a beautiful woman, Feyre,” Rhysand said, smiling fondly. “But you are not a pretty drunk.”

Feyre scowled. “Start my shower, peasant.”

Rhysand huffed a laugh. “Yes, my Lady.”

He turned to do just that, but she pulled him back by the neck of his shirt, until his face was only an inch from hers. 

“Will you join me in the shower, Rhysie?” she crooned.

Rhysand had imagined her asking him that so many times throughout the years, but her breath did not smell like mint-coated-tequila in any of those fantasies.

“As tempting as that sounds, I don’t think-”

She pressed her mouth against his, hungrily, and Rhysand froze. Her tongue slid against his, her teeth nipping at his bottom lip. 

He pulled back, hastily, and cleared his throat. “Um….I think we should-”

Feyre leaned forward and heaved, puking violently all over Rhysand’s jeans. With nothing left to do, he sighed, gathering her hair into his hands as she cleared her stomach. “You should be happy I fucking love you, Feyre, darling.” 

When she was done, her eyes were glazed over, watering, her skin pale, clammy. He waited a few minutes, holding back her hair with one hand and rubbing her knee with the other, before asking, “Done?”

Feyre groaned, eyelids growing heavy. 

“Alright.” Rhysand pulled off his vomit-covered jeans and t-shirt and tossed them in the corner before taking off her tank top, tossing it in the corner, too.

“Take off your jeans, Feyre,” he ordered, gently, “unless you want to wake up smelling like shit in the morning.”

Rhysand laid a towel down on top of the mess on the floor and helped Feyre to her feet, where he unbuttoned her jeans and helped her slip them off. Her eyes were already fluttered shut as she sat back on the counter top in her bra and panties. Rhysand covered a washcloth in warm water and soap before cleaning around her mouth and down her chest, her abdomen, and her thighs - everywhere the vomit had landed. When he was done, he gathered her up into his arms, and carried her across the hall to her bedroom.

She was already sound asleep when he laid her down and tucked her in.

After shutting her door, in nothing but his boxer-briefs, Rhysand cleaned the vomit off the bathroom tile and vanity before gathering all the dirty shit and putting it into the washing machine. After taking a quick shower himself, he stumbled into his bedroom and fell onto his bed, face first, moaning as his bruise, where he’d been punched, made contact with his pillow. 

It had been a hell of a night.

~~~~~

Nesta stared at the opposite side of the bathroom stall as Tomas thrust himself into her. She tried to fake the noises of pleasure at first, but she eventually gave up as the boredom grew.

Tomas leaned back, eventually, breathing heavily as he took in her expression. “You’re not enjoying this at all, are you?” 

Nesta sighed. “I’ve fucked you too many times. Now, it just feels forced and never lasts long enough.”

His eyes narrowed and he stepped back, dropping his grip on her thighs.

She reached for her jeans on the dingy floor as he zipped up his pants and fled from the stall. 

“Seriously?” Nesta called after him. “Quit acting like an ass.”

Her jeans were halfway up her legs when he left, leaving her alone in the restroom.

Once she was dressed, she left the stall and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was still looking good, hanging loosely behind her in curls. Her makeup was hardly smudged. 

Pulling out a cigarette and her lighter, Nesta left the restroom and fell back into the loud, busy club. She pushed her way through the crowd until she was out the front door, into the parking lot.

When she got to their parking spot, Tomas’ car was gone.

“Fuck!” she yelled, looking around, exasperated, but he was already gone. “Fucking prick.”

She took a drag of her cigarette before running a hand anxiously through her hair. 

It was dark.

She lived five blocks away.

It was not the best part of town. 

She pulled her phone out of her back pocket, but it was dead. Of course.

With a sigh, and a hope that no one jumped her, Nesta began to walk back home. 

Nesta liked the dark, the quiet. She liked being alone.

The only reason she had kept Tomas around for so long was because he was convenient. He bought her whatever she wanted and was able to find the shit that was hard to find. Now, she found all that a ridiculous reason to keep him around.

She dented his pride, and he had abandoned her at two in the morning. 

Nesta walked quickly, looking around her often. She finished her cigarette and tossed it in the bushes, crossing her arms across her chest. 

Behind her, a black truck turned the corner, driving slowly in her direction.

Nesta’s heart began beating fast, her pace picking up, just a little bit. She didn’t want them to know she was afraid, didn’t want them to think she was vulnerable. 

Hopefully, soon, they would pass her and let her carry on with her walk.

She had four blocks to go. 

The truck did not speed up. In fact, as the truck got closer to her, it slowed down more. 

She walked even faster, her feet starting to hurt against the pavement in her thin flip-flops. But before she could panic any further, the truck was beside her, and the window was rolling down. “Need a ride?”

She didn’t look their way. She kept her eyes forward, walking quickly, chin held high.

“Nesta!”

Her eyes shot to the road, where Cassian was looking at her with a curious expression.

Nesta stopped.

Cassian stepped on the brakes. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she asked, arms crossed. “You can’t just drive behind a woman in the middle of the night on an abandoned street!” 

Cassian raised a thick eyebrow. “Well, I thought it was you from back there, but I just wanted to be sure. Stopping for a random woman would have been creepy.”

Nesta scoffed. “We don’t know each other. To you, I am a random woman.”

“True,” Cassian agreed. “But we’re neighbors and I’m friends with your sister. So. Get in.”

“No, thanks,” Nesta murmured, pulling another cigarette out of her pocket. “I’m fine.”

“Come on,” Cassian said, following her, slowly, as she started to walk, again. “Get in the car. It’s not safe for you to be walking out here alone and you know it.”

“If I get in the fucking truck will you shut up and let me ride in silence?” she asked, turning to meet him, once more.

Cassian took a few seconds to debate it. “Yeah, alright.”

Nesta rolled her eyes as she went to the truck, but when she pulled on the handle, it was locked. “What the fuck?” she looked at him, annoyed.

“Cigarette stays out,” he said.

Nesta’s lips formed a straight line. “Seriously?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said, mocking her tone. “This is a new truck, it won’t be smelling like shit. Put it out.”

Nesta scowled, but did as she was told before opening up the door, this time unlocked, and climbing inside.

Cassian didn’t move.

Nesta sighed. “What now?”

“Seat belt,” he said, and she swore she saw humor dancing in those damned hazel eyes. 

She furiously strapped on her seat belt before grinding out, “There.”

“Good,” Cassian grinned, putting his truck in drive. “Do I want to know why you were walking down the street alone?”

“You probably do,” Nesta said, “but I won’t tell you.”

Cassian chuckled. “Fair enough.” 

They rode the next few blocks in silence, Nesta staring at the dashboard, Cassian sneaking glances at her, every so often. 

“I think you think it’s charming when you look at me like that, but it's not, and I prefer you cut it out,” she mumbled, as they pulled into the parking lot of their apartment complex.

Cassian shook his head. “I think you think people are looking at you when they’re not.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

“Insufferable,” he repeated. “Nice word. What others would you use to describe me?”

He parked the car and she got out.

She was halfway up the first flight of stairs before he called from behind her, “A thank you would be nice!”

Her middle finger greeted him as he started at the stairs behind her. 

“You’re welcome,” he purred. 

Nesta wanted so badly to come back with a retort, to turn around and snap at him, but she didn’t. She was tired. Exhausted. Mentally. Physically. Emotionally.

All she wanted was to go to bed.

After reaching her apartment and digging her key out of her pocket, she opened the door and shut herself inside. A moment later she could hear Cassian’s door open and close behind him. 

~~~~~

Elain should have been sleeping along with the rest of the city but she had too much energy.

She played her music, softly, careful not to wake her dad.

She did pushups for a minute.

Looked in the mirror.

Did sit ups for a minute.

Looked in the mirror.

Mountain climbers.

Looked in the mirror.

Leg extensions.

Looked in the mirror.

Flutter kicks…

She was breathing hard nearly an hour after she had begun, sweat glistening on her skin.

She stripped off her clothes and after one more glance in her bedroom mirror, she got into the shower. She let the cool water wash over her skin, let it wash away the impurities - the sweat, the stench, the thoughts she couldn’t shake. 

She found her mind wandering all day, those thoughts running wild, after she had seen Graysen’s instagram. 

She was so beautiful, his girlfriend. Long, auburn hair, striking blue eyes. 

She was who he preferred. 

Even when they were together, she was who he preferred. There was a time Graysen had loved her, she knew that, but that didn’t make it any easier when Elain got home early from work one day and saw her little blue car parked in their driveway. 

Elain and Graysen were to be married in two months.

But they would not be getting married anymore. 

Elain no longer warmed his bed, Elain no longer woke up next to him every morning, Elain no longer kissed him goodbye as they both left their home to go to work, to make money, to save for their future. 

Graysen no longer loved her. Graysen no longer found her worthy. Graysen had grown bored with her, bored with the perfect, sweet, Elain Archeron. 

The image still burned in her mind.

She had opened their front door and saw her shoes lying by the welcome mat. Noises of pleasure flooded out of the bedroom, from the bed where Elain and Graysen slept every night. 

Elain would never sleep another night with Graysen in that bed again.

She and Graysen would never share anything again.

Not even the endless void that he’d created in the depths of her soul, nor the voice of insecurity, the voice that sounded a hell of a lot like his, that never left the back of her mind. 

Elain hated him.

Elain loved him.

Elain hated that her love for him wouldn’t fade, hated that she still felt the pain so strongly, too strongly, as if it had just happened yesterday.

As the water grew colder, Elain sunk down into the tub and closed her eyes.

Perhaps she would sleep there tonight. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List (to be tagged, comment or send me an ask!)

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Prompts:

{ “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever met that asshole” - Feysand } -anonymous

{ “How about Nessian needing to fake date when they go home for the holidays?!” } - anonymous

{ “could u pls do like an elriel fic where azriel is like this mysterious bad boy and elain is a goody two shoes lik aaaaa i cant get that image out of my head” } - anonymous

[wizardessheart-sideb]

When my alarm went off, I was tired, but excited. That weird shaky feeling that comes from too little sleep mingled with excitement as I pulled on the Night Class uniform and got ready for my day. And it didn’t go away as I made my way to classes. Sure, it’d gone away for a little bit when I met my other suite mates, Aika and Dorian, but as soon as I stepped out of our suite, it came back. As I got to campus, I read my class info off my inanimate Acceptance Letter.  Room 3-A… Here it is!

I opened the door to see most everyone was already there. And with good reason. The late bell rang and I flung myself into a seat between a boy with purple hair and a girl with bright green curls. At the front of the classroom there were four people. One was a guy a bit older than me with striking blue hair. Maybe one of the Prefects? Beside him were a woman and two girls that looked my age. The girl with curly brown hair and haphazardly-worn uniform looked older, but the one with silver pigtails looked younger. Unlike the other girl, her uniform was in perfect order. The bell rang and the guy started clapped his hands.

“All right, listen up,” he announced. “Today we’re having a guest lecturer and I expect all of you to behave. You’ll be having this special class instead of our usual homeroom for the next couple weeks since you’re all giving Rex and me trouble. Behave.” So that’s Prefect Nox. He gave us a stern look before leaving. The woman just laughed and gave us all a warm smile.

“That’s a way to start class,” she commented. “Hello, everyone! How are we feeling this evening besides vaguely threatened?”

Only the boy next to me and I replied, saying we were okay.

“Well, I’m glad you two are good. I’m gonna guess everyone’s a little tired?” she asked. The girl next to me nodded. “That’s fine. This is an early class for you guys. I get it. Well, I’m just going to go ahead. I’m Dr. Theresa. Some of you are probably familiar with mine and my husband’s business. Or you may know my daughters, Opal and Ruby.” The older one waved and smiled. Her sister copied her, albeit she was a little stiff and didn’t make eye contact. The girl next to me raised her hand.

“Are you a real doctor?” she asked.

“I am!” Dr. Theresa replied. “I went to med school and now I’m a practicing gynecologist. I’d like a doctorate in human sexuality as well, but I’m not keen on the idea of going back to school. I think we can all agree school’s a little draining.” Huh? She’s a gynecologist? Human sexuality?

The pieces fell into place in my mind and my cheeks flared with color.

Oh no. Oh no no no no no.

“My doctorate may not be in human sexuality,” Dr. Theresa continued. “But I’m more than qualified to teach you all about sex education!”

OH NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO! I want to learn magic! Not about sex!

“Ruby, please hand out the syllabus. We’ll go over that today and then we’ll get started with anatomy.”

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!

Even though Dr. Theresa was nice, she set the tone for today.  I wasn’t as ready as I thought I’d be. I struggled with all my spells that day and classes were hard. But now our last class was done and it was time to go back to my dorm. I’ve really bit off more than I can chew, haven’t I? But at least I’m not Fandamilia… I looked to the girl next to me. She’d been acting funny since Dr. Theresa’s lecture. Maybe she’s new too?

“Hey, uh, Fandamilia, right?” I spoke up. She perked up, looking confused.

“Huh? Were you talking?” she asked.

“No, I just called you. Um, are you okay?” I inquired. Immediately her demeanor changed, from confused and tired to looking perky and smiling widely. To be honest, something about it struck me as weird.

“Oh, yeah I’m fine! We just learned a lot today,” she replied.

“Yeah. I wasn’t expecting a sex ed lecture this morning.”

“Me too! Sex is so gross, I can’t believe people want to have it,” she shuddered.

“It’s a problem. I’m surprised they waited until now to have that class. We needed it at the beginning of the year. I guess they wanted to wait until we got our transfer students here.” The dude with bad vibes that sat by Fandamilia spoke up. He looked over to me and my neighbor, Tsukasa.

“Well, we might as well all learn it at the same time,” Tsukasa shrugged.

“I’d prefer to just. Not,” Fandamilia said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. She slumped in her chair. The guy with bad vibes looked a little uncomfortable as he stood up, grabbing Fandamilia’s arm.

“Come on, Millie. Let’s go to the Night Cafe and get something to eat,” he said. The Night Cafe? Isabelle told me about that last night. To be honest, I could really go for a snack...

“That’s a great idea, Viggo! Let’s go!” Again, she perked up almost immediately, shoving her things into her backpack. “You guys should come too!” she added, looking from me to Tsukasa.

“Sure, I’ll come along,” he said.

“I’ll come too!” I said. Viggo frowned as we got up, but I tried to ignore it. After all, this was going to be fun! I would go and have some food with my classmates and we’d become friends. This could save the day!

The Night Cafe looked like a run of the mill pub. A few other students were in there. A few were in duos, but most were sitting and snacking alone. Fandamilia slid into a booth and eagerly knocked on the table. A drink that looked like muddy water appeared in front of her and she immediately got started on it. Viggo grimaced as he slid into the seat next to her.

“Pace yourself, Millie,” Viggo told her. He knocked on the table and a glass of water appeared. He pushed it towards her.

“Uh, how did you do that?” Tsukasa asked.

“Oh, right. That’s how you order. Just think of whatever drink or snack you want and knock on the table!” Fandamilia told us. Huh. Okay. I thought of a milkshake and knocked. In an instant, a lavish milkshake appeared before me.

“That’s cool!” Tsukasa said. He knocked and a sundae appeared in front of him. His face lit up and he immediately dug in. Viggo ordered a glass of water and a sandwich and pushed them towards Fandamilia. “How’s your milkshake?”

“It’s great! How’s your sundae?” I asked back.

“It’s good!” he said, nodding enthusiastically.

“Great, there you are!” An unfamiliar voice spoke up. I looked up to see a tall guy with periwinkle hair come sauntering over to us. Fandamilia squealed, bouncing in her seat. Viggo tensed, lips pursing into a thin line.

“Zeus! You came to see me?!” I could hear her being starstruck in her voice. I couldn’t blame her. The dude was pretty hot.

“Nah, I’m here for the newbies,” he said. Her smile changed into something that struck fear into my heart. Okay, you know what, never mind. He’s not as hot as I thought he was.

“Oh,” she replied softly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Tsukasa spoke up. He introduced me before adding on, “And I’m Tsukasa.”

“I know who you are. Come with me,” Zeus motioned for us to follow him.

“Is it urgent?” I asked. I mean, of course I’d go with him, but I’d like to finish my milkshake first.

“Very urgent,” he replied with a wide grin that didn’t instill confidence in me.

“What’s going on?” Tsukasa asked.

“You’re going to become real Night Class students!” Zeus told us.

“Uh… We’re undergoing our Trial already?” Panic started to settle in. I thought I had thirteen days! Why was this happening now?!

“No! Man, you guys are slow on the uptake. You have do some tasks to prove you’re brave enough to be in the Night Class,” Zeus said with a slight pout.

“You’re hazing them?” Fandamilia asked.

“No!”

“That’s exactly what it is,” Viggo spoke up, reaching over and taking a swig of Fandamilia’s drink. He wrinkled his nose a bit as it went down.

“Why do you want to haze them? We’re all Unus students,” Fandamilia asked.

“We were hazed, so they should be too.” Fandamilia’s strained smile slipped off her face in a second, a look of anger replacing it.

“That’s terrible! … I, oh my gosh, I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean that!” If she didn’t look so terrified and if Zeus wasn’t pissing me off, I’d think it was funny how many face journeys she was going on. Now she looked distraught, large amethyst eyes pleading with Zeus, who just looked irritated.

“Well, clearly you did, otherwise you wouldn’t have said it,” he told her and she shrunk in her seat even more.

“I-I just, um, I mean, just because we were humiliated doesn’t mean they have to be too. Wouldn’t you rather save them from that pain?”

“No,” he answered. Fandamilia’s knuckles were white as she gripped the water Viggo got her. I was worried she was going to break it.

“That’s so selfish! You shouldn’t want that!” she exploded.

“Why not? Scaring people’s pretty funny.” Now Zeus just looked confused as Fandamilia glared at him.

“No it’s not!” she shouted. He rolled his eyes and although I hadn’t known Fandamilia for long, I was ready to die defending her.

“Ugh, it’s not a big deal! Can’t you just shut up about it?” he demanded. Fandamilia’s eyes were full of tears and rage burned inside me.

“Hey, you know what? Fine. I’ll undergo the hazing if you leave us alone,” I spoke up. I already know he wants to scare me. To test me. Let’s see how well he deals with me passing his stupid test AND using my special magic to get back at him. Fandamilia was in tears because of this guy and I wasn’t about to let him get away with it. He grinned and grabbed my arm, hauling me to my feet.

The walk out of the Night Class was short and pretty easy. Zeus and I stood at the edge of a dark forest. It was a little creepy, but I was too mad to worry about what lurked in the shadows.

“So, what’s my challenge?” I asked.

“I hid a lantern in the forest. It’s gold and shaped like a sphere Go get it,” he instructed. “You have thirty minutes.”

“And if I don’t make it in time?” He grinned.

“You’ll find out.” I knew I’d make it in less time. “Your time starts now!” I walked into the forest, determined to get away from Zeus before I asked the animals where the lantern was. But how to have my revenge? Maybe I should wait the full time and then scream, and once he comes in to save me, I have some birds dive bomb him, or something. Or maybe I could just hide behind a tree and scare him. I had a lot of options.

I walked along the path, looking for an animal to talk to. I couldn’t see Zeus anymore and now he wouldn’t be able to hear me cheating. The tall bushes by me rustled and I headed off the path ever so slightly to chat with the animal.

“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you, but have you seen a lantern around here? It looks like a golden sphere,” I said as I got closer.

“I haven’t seen it, but I could make one for you.” I stepped back at the familiar voice. Zett appeared from behind the bushes, dressed in all black with that cool jacket I’d seen him in last time we met.

“Zett?!”

[spidercakes]

Here, have a high school ABO AU featuring Tony trying his best while Peter plays coy.

*

Tony knows he’s staring but he can’t help it, Peter Parker is pretty okay and he has poor self restraint. Its why he decided to disrupt shop class by squirting whipped cream into his mouth out of one of those ridiculous cans every time Hammer went to speak. Fucking priceless.

“If you stare at him harder, maybe he’ll agree to date you and sex will fall out,” Pepper says, earning a sharp laugh out of Rhodey. He gives her a high five and Tony gives them both a dirty look.

“I hope you both get an STI,” he mumbles.

Pepper snorts, “neither of us are as slutty as you so I think we’re safe,” she says, pushing a copy of Hamlet at him and he wrinkles his nose. Like he wants to read more fucking Shakespeare. That asshole one hundred percent faked his talent and none of his shit makes sense, Tony refuses to believe there’s teaching value in it so he goes back to looking at Peter.

Today he’s wearing a short white pleated skirt, thigh highs, and an oversized baby pink sweater with a fuzzy scarf wrapped around his neck just looking delectable. Tony’d like to unwrap that scarf like a fucking present, exposing the soft, pliable skin underneath and-

“Jesus Tony, you’re literally licking your lips. What is he, a fucking pork chop?” Pepper asks. “This is why omegas think alphas are useless and a burden on society,” she mumbles.

“Amen,” Rhodey adds, shrugging when Tony gives him a dirty look. “Sorry man, you know I love you but all alphas do is start pissing contests that turn into wars and expect us all to be happy about it,” he points out.

“And yet its you that wants to join the military,” Tony says.

“Unlike some rich assholes not all of us have immediate access to education money, thank you. Also Air Force, planes are cool as hell so do not insult me,” Rhodey says, flicking his fingers at Tony.

“You remind me that betas aren’t as reasonable as I like to think they are,” Pepper tells him and Rhodey makes an offended noise. “Don’t look at me like that, you’re just as dumb and reckless as Tony, you’re just better at sounding reasonable about it.”

A book slams shut to his left so Tony looks over, noting that Peter is sticking stuff in his bag and right, okay. He can do this, he can ask him out its not like he hasn’t done this a million times before. Well, not a million times but still he’s never had a problem with it until now and- Pepper smacking him gets his attention.

“Do you want him to think you’re a stalker? Because that’s how you get him to think you’re a stalker,” she says.

“Uh huh,” he says, getting up and taking off after Peter. He can do this, its not that hard and its not like he gets turned down often. Or ever.

He catches up with Peter in the hallway in front of his locker looking just as delicious as he had before, except now he’s unwrapping that scarf from his neck and his head is just tilted to the side and oh. He must notice Tony staring because he turns and gives Tony a bored look. “Do you need something?” he asks, tone also bored.

Oh dear god. Tony makes a small noise of some kind, holy hell he’s awful at this, and then tells himself to suck it the fuck up. “Um, yeah. I’m having a Christmas party in like, a week or so. Wanna go?” he asks.

Peter looks up up and down and what does that mean? “I’m Jewish,” he says, shutting his locker and walking away and no fucking way.

“Is he actually Jewish?” he asks the girl standing next to Peter’s locker. Michelle maybe? MJ? He can’t remember, but she hangs out with Peter so he figured she’d know.

She gives him a judgmental look. “You didn’t know he was Jewish?” she asks and Tony lets out an annoyed breath.

“Shit.”

*

Peter can feel the way Tony is looking at him and at this point he’s perfected playing it cool. Its not like he’s never seen this before, Tony deciding someone is the object of his affections only to lost interest whenever they showed an interest back. Peter doesn’t have any interest in being some kind of tryst so he figures maybe all those ‘play hard to get’ things might have a point. So far he’s managed to keep Tony’s interest anyway, so maybe that’s not total junk psychology anyway.

He keeps an eye on Tony in a much more subtle way than Tony does with him, only diverting his attention when Ned walks into the library. He grins, hoping that Ned’s bearing good news about Legos. “Guess who managed to wrestle the last Death Star Lego set away from a white mom crying about her kid wanting one for Christmas?” he says, looking pleased with himself.

Peter snorts, “oh my god, did she yell about you ruining Christmas?” he asks.

“Obviously but if you think for one second I feel pity for Karen’s little unvaccinated mucus machine you’ve got another thing coming,” he says, resulting in them both laughing.

“Awesome,” Peter says. “Now all we need is to get MJ to agree to come and then we can eat like, so many Oreos.”

Ned nods, probably strategizing in his head when he notices something. “Oh my god Tony Stark is walking over here,” he hisses at Peter, looking over his shoulder and damnit Ned, play it cool!

He doesn’t say that though, he just takes a calming breath and turns to give Tony a bored, maybe even a little disinterested, look. Tony only pauses for a half a second and Peter sure shit hopes this works because he’s wanted to climb Tony like a tree for like three years but he’s not about to be some hookup either. “Um, hey. So I’m having a party this weekend, not at all Christmas related and uh. Wanna go?” he asks.

Peter pretends to consider it even though he already has an answer. “I have a date with Ned,” he says, phrasing it that way on purpose.

Tony looks a little confused. “You’re dating Ned?” he asks.

“No, platonic date but he battled a white mom for Lego Death Star and I’m sure he nearly contracted measles so I’m not bailing on him,” he says.

Tony lets out a soft snort, covering his mouth as he starts laughing harder. “Congratulations on winning your battle,” Tony tells him, amused.

Ned nods, “I ruined Christmas for her kid, so I feel real accomplished. We’ll probably have time to swing by after the Death Star thing though,” he says and Peter swears to god. He turns and gives Ned a look, making sure Tony can’t see his face while he does it and Ned looks confused.

“Awesome, see you guys then,” Tony says, grinning ear to ear like he’s just won something and he hasn’t won shit, damnit!

“Dude, what the hell was that? You’ve had a crush on Tony for like, seventeen years,” Ned says, “so what’s with the look?”

Peter sighs, “I’ve been carefully cultivating a cool aloof nature and you came in here and ruined it by accepting his invitation! Now he thinks he’s won,” he says, slumping in his seat.

Ned frowns, “have you been reading bad nineties dating advice columns?” he asks.

“No, Ned. I’ve just noticed that any time Tony decides he’s interested in someone he’s not interested as soon as they’re interested and I’m trying to make myself interesting enough to keep around here,” he says. “And then you off and made me available.”

“Fine, next time I play wingman I’ll tell him about that time you got violent diarrhea at that Nandos when we went to Britain last year,” Ned tells him.

Peter lets out a panicked squeak. “Oh my god Ned, no!”

*

Peter didn’t want to go to this damn party but MJ wanted to go just to see what Tony Stark’s house looked like and honestly calling it a house is like calling a whole ass parking lot a single parking space. It takes him, MJ, and Ned all of five seconds to lose each other and another ten seconds for him to be completely lost. God damn MJ, they should have just eaten way too many Oreos and gone to sleep and then Peter would be back to having Tony think he’s unavailable and it all would have worked out in the end but no, couldn’t do that.

A hand curls around his arm and for a moment he’s relieved because he’s sure Ned found him but when he looks over its Tony. Well shit, he’s unprepared for this what the hell does he do? “You came,” Tony says, smiling wide and aw man its hard to seep his cool with Tony so close and like... actually touching him and stuff. God, he’s desperate.

“Yeah, MJ wanted to steal all your toilet paper,” he blurts out like a fucking moron.

Thankfully Tony has a weird sense of humor because he starts laughing. “That all you came here for?” he asks and Peter hadn’t paid attention to how close they were either. Okay Parker, play it cool.

He turns so he’s facing Tony and steps in a little closer, allowing Tony to move his hand from Peter’s arm to his waist as he reaches up and pulls Tony a little closer to him by the lapel of his shirt. “Depends,” he says, looking Tony over. “If you’re worth my time or not.”

Tony looks delighted as he settles his other hand on Peter’s waist. “I haven’t had any complaints,” he says.

Yeah, Peter’s heard the stories and then probably a lot of rumors. He circles an arm around Tony’s neck, “well, I’m not fond of being left cold in the morning and I’ve got a good consensus on where you stand on that so,” he says, pulling away just as fast as he came close but Tony pulls him back.

“Mm, something tells me you’ll be worth keeping around,” Tony murmurs.

“Mm, and something tells me I might want to hold out on you a little, make you beg a little,” Peter tells him, not at all anticipating the way Tony’s features cloud over with arousal and okay, he can work with that. He grins, pulling out of Tony’s grasp almost completely, “why don’t you come back when you’re prepared to grovel a little, hmm?” he says, moving to walk away but Tony pulls him back, wrapping his arms around his waist again.

“Oh, I’m plenty ready to grovel now,” Tony tells him enthusiastically. Peter happens to look over and finds Ned and MJ at the end of the hallway looking way too enthused for their own good. He turns back to Tony and smiles, “well, go on then,” he tells him, pushing him back into the room he’d come out of when he’d found Peter here to begin with.

[captainjimothycarter]

Accidental Polycule image! Where Steve and Natasha are exes who share maximoff twins adoptees, and now Nat's with Clint who's with Bucky, Steve's with Sam and Peggy, and the twins are like 4 and trying to parent trap them from two semi-closed triads into just a "weird monogamous pentagram"

 Okay so we have: Steve & Natasha are exs and have adopted the Maximoff Twins Nat is with Clint whose with Bucky Steve is with Sam and Peggy And the twins love the two Christmas sort of deal but they want a huge family together. Also, I don’t remember parent trap so here’s what I got and I am so sorry it sucks

--

Waking up to a four-year-old pouncing on your chest was just something Sam had to deal with it when it came to dating and staying over at Steve and Peggy’s. Waking up to two four-year-olds on your chest and bouncing up and down was just not how he wanted to wake up in his lover’s bed.

The man groaned, eyes snapping open to take in the sight of the brunette and blonde-haired kids. If he hadn’t known that Peggy and Steve had adopted them – okay technically Natasha and Steve, then he could’ve sworn these were their kids.

Or Clint and Natasha’s.

God, parenting was weird.

“Did I oversleep again?” he asked, sitting up and pulling them into his lap.

“Uh-huh! Mummy is making pancakes!” Wanda declared, wiggling out of Sam’s hold.

“Pancakes with blueberries and choccy!” Pietro added. “C’mon! Breakfast! It’s important, daddy said so!”

Sam was dragged out of the bed before he could even protest about needing to uses the bathroom or shower by the kids. He was a sucker for them, he couldn’t say no. He was dragged to the kitchen where Peggy was adding pancakes onto a huge stack and Steve was just getting lunches ready. He could see five bags with their names written on the outside.

“You didn’t need to make me lunch, Stevie. I could’ve stopped by the diner,” he greeted Steve, pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek. “But thank you.”

“That food is unhealthy for you and you know it,” Peggy replied, brandishing her spatula into Sam’s face.

“And pancakes with chocolate chips aren’t?” Sam countered, greeting her with a kiss to her temple.

“Shush you.”

Sam laughed as he helped the kids set the table and get their cups out, filled with milk for Pietro and apple juice for Wanda. Breakfast was served and he watched as the kids bickered over the syrup and how Steve loved butter over syrup over his pancakes.

It’s a weird family but it works.

--

“Kids!” Peggy called, checking her watch. “We gotta go! Did you get your bags packed? Mommy will pick you up after school!”

The kids came tumbling down the stairs, backpacks were thrown on, and holding onto duffle bags for their weekly stay at Natasha’s residence.

Sometimes, Peggy disliked this weekly back and forth. Sometimes she liked it. She worried over the kid’s development but they’ve been used to this since they were a year old. They were even more used to the various partners and faces and the various terms for them.

Peggy insisted on being called mummy, Steve was daddy, Natasha was mama, Sam was uncle Sam, and Bucky was Uncle Buck, and Clint was dada.

It was their life and really, she wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Okay, guys, c’mon.” He scooped them up and had them both kiss their mummy goodbye before taking them out, after a long kiss to Peggy’s lips that the kids squealed over.

Peggy sighed when they were out, finding Sam dressed in a button-up shirt and jeans smiling at him.

“You miss them already?” He teased, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her frame into his. “Gotta ask – is this situation…difficult? The many people, the partners, explaining this to others?”

“It’s difficult to see them leave for a week despite they’re a block away.” They’d moved closer together on purpose, for the kids, so they were closer together. They didn’t want to separate the twins, not that they would be separated. It was a situation that worked between them ever since Steve and Natasha divorced. “I do miss them. Have you talked to Steve about moving in?”

“Talk to Steve? He’s the one that keeps bringing it up. If…you two will have me, I will. I just didn’t wanna stress the twins out, are all with us moving in. You sure your bed can handle me too?”

Peggy gently swatted at his chest. “We can handle you moving in, Sam. There’s the extra bedroom if you ever need space too. Sometimes Steve doesn’t even sleep in the same bed as me, but that’s normally when he’s sick. We’d love to have you. Steve will be so excited.”

--

“There’s my munchkins!” Clint cried, sliding painfully on his knees to scoop the twins up and crush them against his broad chest. He felt Bucky’s arms around him to pull him up before hugging him, squishing the squealing twins between them.

“Ten o’clock,” Bucky breathed in his ear, taking the twins to let Clint turn his head.

The blonde rolled his eyes at the kid’s teacher marching up towards them. “What is it now?” he grumbled. “You can’t kick me off property, lady. Legally I’m allowed to be here. On paper, I’m their guardian too, so is Bucky.”

“You’re disgusting,” she snapped, causing Clint to open and close his mouth. “Exposing kids to this sex parade you-you have going on! One person drops them off and then a whole another set of parents picks them up?! It’s disgusting! You are exposing these precious angels to vile, disgusting-”

“Lady shut the fuck up.” Clint tried not to curse around the kids, but sometimes his buttons were pushed. “Just shut up! Yes, Steve drops the kids off or Peggy or Sam and then one of us picks them up if someones working late. Yes, I live with their mother and her boyfriend and happen to be dating them. The same situation goes for Peggy and Steve and Sam. This isn’t some…sex parade that you’re talking about. We’re a goddamn family who just happens to love more than one person and are together. I don’t get what the fuck your problem is here. The kids are healthy and loved.”

Before she could open his mouth, he flipped her off and stalked away, taking Wanda from Bucky’s arms, the kids immune to the disgusting behavior their teacher was having. Throwing a damn fit and for what? Because the kids are loved?

So what if he loved Bucky and Natasha and lived with them? And if Steve loved Peggy and Sam? It just went around in a full circle and the twins were happy. Wasn’t that the main thing here?

He sent a furious text to the group chat about his conversation with the teacher, Natasha immediate reply she’ll call the school and Peggy saying she’ll call the board of education.

Regardless of what people thought, if Peggy and Natasha hated each other because Natasha was Steve’s ex was truly wrong. They were amazing friends and if there were differences, it was put aside for the kids.

Just some people.

“Who wants ice cream?” Bucky mused, drawing Clint from his thoughts. “C’mon, I promised your Uncle Clint that we’ll go get ice cream for dessert tonight, but you gotta help me choose the flavor.”

Clint smiled as he listened to the twins' bickering over which ice cream flavor was better.

--

It started off as any twins argument would, just little bickering over a toy or the tablet or something, Natasha noted. Now it dissolved into a full-fledged tantrum with Pietro screaming how he liked it more at Peggy and Steve’s because he was in time out for throwing his Lego’s and now Wanda was crying because her brother was yelling and terrified they’d be split up.

We’ve got to talk. – NR

It was the only thing she sent to the group chat, seeing the names all pop up asking about what.

The twins. – NR I think this split relationship of one week each isn’t as healthy and solid idea as we planned. And I don’t know about you but going to two weeks isn’t what I’d like to do either. I’d miss them too much. – NR

Agreed. We tried the two weeks when we first split, remember? It felt so empty and wrong. – SR And I am defiantly not splitting them up. Wanda already has separation issues from her brother for understandable reasons. – SR

Two weeks is far too long without my munchkins. – CB

So what are we proposing here? – JB

I think I have some ideas. – PC We’ll come over tonight, bring some beers, and talk once the kids are asleep. I don’t want to purpose anything and not follow through. Their hopes have been crushed before. – PC

You’re not bringing the beer, Carter. Yours is water-downed piss. – JB

It is not. You just don’t have taste. – CB

Being attacked in my own home. And it does. You don’t have taste either, Barton. – JB

Says the man who drinks coffee black. – SW I think I have some ideas too if we’re on the same page. We can’t just…shock the kids here. They won’t react well and given today’s earlier outbursts with their teacher, we need to explain everything to them. – SW

They already know everything for the most part. – PC They know that they’re loved by all of us and that’s that. That woman is a cruel beast and the Director has already come down on her or so I’m told. – PC

You’re just worried too much, Wilson. – CB The kids are happy and healthy and get two Christmases a year. – CB

I think they’d be happier with just one. – SR

So, it’s agreed? We’ll come over tonight? If my beer is so bad, then you can get some. – PC

Gladly. – JB

Wilson, you coming over too? – JB Or are you stuck playing pirate? – JB

Haha. – SW I make a fine pirate, thank you very much. – SW I might be a lil late. Steve and I are just finishing up the set now. – SW

Don’t blame your slow painting skills on me. – SR We’ll be there on time. Nat, just pick up some whiskey for Pegs and Sam, please. No more beer bickering, I swear… - SR

It’s cute how you think I don’t always have it in my cabinet. – NR I am running low and given how Carter and I can bring ya’ll boys under the table, that’s not a bad idea. – NR

Pizza? – CB I’ll pick some up. – CB

Good idea. – PC No anchovies. – PC

Or pineapples. – JB

Anchovies I agree with, pineapples is a personal attack. – CB I’m getting pineapples. – CB

If you get pineapples, I will open up a can and dump them on your whole pie, Clint. – JB

That just sounds delicious. – CB

You’re disgusting. – JB

And yet you love me anyway. – CB

--

“The kids are asleep,” Steve confirmed, plopping onto the only empty seat left in the house, between Peggy and Natasha. “Pietro has his stuffed bunny and Wanda is sleeping with her lil butt in the air.”

Natasha laughed softly at that, leaning back to look into the hall. Steve had kept the door ajar like she liked to do so for the kids. “She always used to do that, remember?”

“First night we brought her home,” Steve laughed. “She refused to sleep in her own bed, crawled right into her brother’s, and slept with her lil tush in the air, face-planted in her pillow.”

“You panicked when you saw her like that, thought she was going to suffocate.” The redhead's shoulder nudged her ex-husband, giving him a fond smile. “Thought they’d never warm up to us.”

“Well, now look at them. Still sleeping in the same bed sometimes and a whole family.” His arm threw over Natasha and squeezed her to him.

They didn’t work as a couple, they realized. They were much better off as friends, close friends who loved one another but not in a romantic sense. They were lucky enough to make this work, they’ve both seen relationships go down the drain and kids suffering because of their parent's pettiness. Thankfully the twins seemed to be too young to understand the divorce between them.

“So, what’s this stack of papers you brought, Pegs?” Bucky nudged her with his foot, holding the beer bottle by the neck. He was sitting in Clint’s lap, the blonde’s arm around his waist.

“Probably half of Brooklyn Library,” Clint snorted into Bucky’s shoulder, the brunette in his lap getting a face-first of a pillow Peggy threw at them.

“Boys,” Sam sighed, rolling his eyes. “Play nice. I gotta go home with this one and if she’s angry, I’m taking it out on you.” At Peggy’s sharp look, he shrugged. “Wrong words?”

“Very, and no, Barton, it’s not. It’s a dedicated list I’ve been making of a few houses in the area, organized by the area, the school system, and crime rate. And down to how large it is.” Peggy picked up the stack and passed out the few flyers around. “I tried to find ones that had large back yards, plenty of land. Some are…outside of the city, which I know we’re all fond of, but the kids…they deserve…”

“A real backyard and not this asphalt?” Sam mused. “No, I get it. The kids do. The bigger houses will be further out too. Fewer people around.”

He looked down at the flyer and clicked his tongue. Six bedrooms, four bathrooms? A basement, an attic, and two acres of yard? Jesus, the price made him want to faint.

“Just exactly how are we affording this? No offense, but unless one of us is suddenly rich, please speak up now,” Clint grumbled, setting one down to look around. He saw how the look Peggy and Steve gave one another. “No.”

“What?” Steve breathed, dropping his arm.

“No. No way. There’s no way you’re this rich.”

“And why not?”

“Because you’re-you’re you! If you were rich, we’d know!” Clint countered, throwing his hands up.

“Well, clearly you don’t. And you’re right, I’m not rich. She is.” Steve’s chin jerked down towards Peggy, whose ears were turning a pretty shade of pink.

Everyone turned to look at her and she shrugged. “I made a few investments is all.”

“Go on,” Natasha breathed, raising an eyebrow. “There’s more to that, with a mind sharp as yours.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Peggy mused, “But thank you.”

“I wasn’t trying to flatter, I was pointing out the obvious. Now how…did you come by this?”

“My family. I don’t like to talk about it a lot but my family is…well, we were well off. Really, well off. To the point, my mother tried to control me by using funds so she could rule my life. Once my brother left for the military and I followed, I got out of her hold, cut off contact, and paved my own life, hence here.” She waved her hand around them as if to state the obvious. “Well, as you know, she passed away a few years ago and Michael told me he’d handle the estates and all so I didn’t have to keep flying back and forth. Things finally settled once and for all a month ago. And… I might’ve made a few more investments….”

“You didn’t sell that cute lil cottage did you?” Steve pouted. “The one in the countryside with the berries?”

“Of course not. Michael and I agreed to keep a few houses between us, keep a few staff on hand while he’s living over there. Turn a few into vacation homes for others to rent, and such. He’s working on programs to help the homeless with the homes, veterans, and making public gardens, so it’s a necessity and if anything, a good cover story.” The pride for her brother was clear in her voice and Steve squeezed Peggy tightly to her.

“Have I ever told you how scary-smart you are?” Sam laughed.

“You could do with mentioning it a few times. So, we agree?”

“Yeah,” Natasha breathed, sharing a look with Steve. “You sure you can handle living with me again?”

“Oh, like you weren’t bad the last time,” he teased, rolling his eyes. “Of course I can. I need someone to yell at me too about leaving my boots out.”

“You think you’d learn by now to listen to Peggy,” she laughed. “Good. I kinda missed you. These two idiots hog the bed.”

--

“Where are we goinnnnnng?” Pietro complained for the sixth time that day from the backseat of his mama’s truck. “Mooooom.”

“Pietro,” Natasha said softly, turning in the seat to look at her darling, little boy. Steve had decided to pick them up, leaving Peggy, Sam, Bucky, and Clint to do the final touches. He was useless with decoration beyond painting anyhow and that was done weeks ago. “I told you, it’s a surprise. Now, we’re almost there, okay? Steve, there’s the marker.”

Steve almost had to slam on breaks to avoid missing it. They’d left a bright silver flag on an unmarked road to let the movers know where they’re turning. The road was getting a name soon, Space Way Road, and a mailbox for their house eventually too. Things were coming together.

He smiled in the rearview window as he stopped in front of a large house, pulling into the automatic garage. The kids were all excited as they got out of the truck and Steve grabbed the last few boxes from the back.

“Wooooow.” Wanda breathed, running straight through the large kitchen with a breakfast nook and dining table, straight to the living room where a large TV already hung.

“Kids?” Bucky called, poking his head out from around the corner, up the large stairs. “Come up here. Be careful! Pietro, no pushing your sister.”

Steve smiled as Natasha hugged him around his waist, pulling her close. “Think they’ll love it?”

“I think they will. You worry too much,” she sighed, kissing his cheek. “Are the beds installed?”

“California Kings for our rooms,” he mused. “Bunk beds for the kids. A single bed for the guest rooms.”

They’d done it. They’d gotten a house with ten rooms and six bathrooms. Two were the adult bedrooms with a walk-in closet, the balcony that opened up to a beautiful front yard, or a spacious backyard where a pool was being built in-ground. One room had turned into an office for Peggy and Natasha to use. Another was a paint room for Steve and Sam, one was a game room for the kids and a play area, and another had been turned into a small gym for them all to share. The rest had been turned into guest rooms, figuring eventually they would all want their own space, and eventually the twins would want their own room.

It wasn’t going to be easy, them all living under one roof but there was plenty of space between them all if they’d needed to step away. A kitchen large enough to hold them all and to hold many memories to come. A living room full of spacious furniture that just swallowed you in. A large backyard that Peggy and Clint had worked hard on sectioning off at least an acre to start to build a garden for. Bucky was already begging for goats and Clint was whining about chickens.

This is what was for the best, wasn’t it? All of them living together, for each other, for the kids. The twins deserved this peace more than anyone. No worrying, no back and forth, no separation. And the adults, at least Steve had to admit this was peace at mind now, being together.

[noonaduck]

SeXd (sex ed) pt.10

Pairing: BTS OT7 x reader genre: Fluff,smut, angst, non idol Au Warnings: angst, sex, bad words (?) Words: 4169 A/N:  Taco Cat Summary: Y/N is a woman who is inexperienced in anything when it comes to relationships and sex. Luckily her friend Jimin along with his six other friends decide to show her what she has been missing.

Msg me or send ask if you want to be tagged. I won’t tag you if you ask in comments.

9. < 10. > 11. 

[gifs belongs to their rightful owners]

When you arrive back to the house you find Jin in the kitchen working on tonight's dinner. You are grateful that none of the other men are around. At first Jin doesn't even notice that you have arrived because he is so focused on mixing a pot on the stove.

''Hi, what are you making?'' You ask and look curiously in to his pot. Jin jolts a little when he is caught by a surprise. ''Don't you ever again sneak behind of me like that.  And to answer to your question, I'm making a tomato soup.'' Jin tells cheerfully despite his remark of you scaring him. You really don't like tomatoes but you don't complain, after all Jin is going through all the trouble of making dinner for you. You rub your neck awkwardly and speak again. ''Can I talk about something with you.'' Your hesitating voice makes Jin to stop working on his soup and he turns around with worried eyes. ''Sure, whats on your mind?'' Jin asks softly and puts his hand on your shoulder squeezing it warmly. You take a deep breath and get ready to pour your mind to him. ''Where do I even start... Well, four of your friends has told me that they like me.'' You blush and continue.''I also think that Tae is mad at me.'' ''Okay, wow. So you decided to come ask dad for an advice?'' Jin jokes lamely and you poke his side which makes Jin to drop his hand from your shoulder. '' Lets go to sit on the table, the soup is almost ready anyway.'' Jin continues and turns to turn the stove off you nod and follow him to sit on opposite side of the table from Jin. "Can 'dad' be more serious about this?'' You ask tilting your head.

''I'm, I'm.'' Jin smiles sheepishly but then his face turns in to more serious look. ''You indeed have a quite problem in hand. To be honest when I at first heard of the idea about giving you sex education I was hesitant. I thought that one of the boys would surely catch feelings. I think that you have to make a decision that is best for you and even if someone gets hurt at least it's not you.'' ''Won't it be cruel to choose, I would hurt my friends not matter what.'' You sniff. ''Love is bound to hurt at some point.'' Jin takes a deep breath and continues. ''I met Jisoo in med school and I had the biggest crush on her, this was even before Jisoo met her husband and had Haru. I was so scared of being rejected that I settled with being her friend.'' ''You, The worldwide handsome were afraid of rejection?'' You ask dramatically. To be honest you are surprised by Jin's confession, you have always seen his as a confident man who wouldn't be afraid of such a small challenge like asking a person out.

''I know its hard to believe but even when I was dating Namjoon way back he was the one to ask me out.'' Jin tells with as much drama in his voice as you had. ''You learn something new everyday...'' You think out loud. ''So my point here is if you truly like one of my friends you should tell him so. Don't hesitate and miss the chance.'' ''I ques you are right.'' You sigh. ''Of course I'm, I'm as smart as I'm handsome.'' Jin smirks and you giggle at his words. ''That still doesn't solve my problem with Taehyung.'' You sigh defeated. ''Why he is mad at you?'' Jin asks curiously. '' It's complicated. I saw something that I wasn't meant to see.'' You play with your fingers nervously and Jin takes a hold of your shin and pulls you to meet his eyes. ''I'm sure that everything will work out, Taehyung doesn't know how be angry for long, but still I'm curious what did you see?'' ''Have you seen Taehyung without a shirt?'' You ask after taking a deep breath. ''Oh, I see. That is something you should talk about with him.'' Jin leans away from you and pats your shoulder gently. ''I bet he isn't mad at you but more mad at himself. He will speak with you when he is ready.'' Jin tries to comfort you. ''Why we have so complicated friends?'' You whine pathetically and Jin rolls his eyes in agreement. ''Tell me about it.'' Jin smirks and pokes your nose. The door bell rings and Yoongi pokes his head out from your room. ''I'll go get it, I just got up anyway.'' He points his words to you and Jin and heads for the door. You sift from Yoongi's appearance, Jin notices this and takes your hand in to his squeezing it gently for comfort. You give him a grateful smile in return. Yoongi doesn't stay by the door for a long and he arrives to the table carrying a huge bouquet of roses with confused look. ''These just arrived for you.'' He grunts and hands the flowers to your direction. ''What, from who?'' You ask curiously taking the bouquet from Yoongi. The roses smell divine and you inhale the scent closing your eyes. ''I don't know, I didn't ask.'' Yoongi answers with slightly annoyed tone. ''What's for the dinner?'' Yoongi decides to change a subject and glances quickly your and Jin's hand still holding each other. ''Tomato soup and garlic bread.'' Jin answers. ''Well Taehyung won't be happy, at least the tomatoes aren't raw.'' Yoongi mumbles. ''Y/N look there is and envelope among the flowers.'' Jin points out and that is when you notice the ivory white envelope peeking among the roses. You reach for the letter but end up cutting your finger in to thorn. ''Ouch!'' You yelp and a single drop of blood rises to your finger. ''I'll go to get band-aids.'' Jin says and free'es your hand when he gets up from his chair and disappearing from the room. You are still focused on to your bleeding finger tip when Yoongi yanks the bouquet from your other hand and puts it on the table. ''What are you-'' You aren't able to finish the sentence when Yoongi kneels in front of you and takes the finger in to his mouth sucking the wound gently. Yoongi's mouth is warm and wet around your finger and you blush thinking about what else his mouth is capable of doing. Yoongi lets your finger go with pop and you hear someone clearing their throat, when you look up you see Hoseok standing his arms folded and eyebrows lifted. ''I thought that you would wait little longer before you go to propose Y/N'' He says with a unreadable look on his face. Your blush deepens even more but this time its caused by embarrassment. ''Piss of, I was helping Y/N with her wound. A rose spiked her finger.'' Yoongi gets up from the ground and luckily right then Jin returns the room carrying a first aid kit. Jin glares from Yoongi to Hoseok and senses that the air has turned more thicker while he was away. His lips sifts in thin line and he begins to take care of your wound his mind full of thoughts. When he is happy with his work he glances back towards the other men. ''Be useful and set up the table. Dinner is ready.'' Hoseok sighs deeply but heads towards the cabinet where the plates are held followed by grumpy Yoongi. 'Thank you' You mouth to Jin wordlessly, to be honest you aren't sure how you are able to handle Yoongi and Hoseok after you slept together. ''Don't mention it. Jealousy is a nasty monster. Make your decision soon that we all can move on.''

The dinner was eaten in awkward silence and you almost choked because how fast you were eating. Taehyung skipped the dinner and Namjoon tried bravely keep the conversation going but everyone seemed to be in lousy mood and he gave up and focused back to his food. You return to your room after clearing your plate and decide to scroll social media to get your mid out of things for a while. A surprising text message gets you of guard and you just stare your phone for a while. -Jimin:- * Did you like the flowers?* You blink rapidly and hover your fingers over keyboard without knowing how to react. You had already forgotten the flowers which had disappeared from the dinner table when Hoseok and Yoongi had set the table ready for the dinner. A soft knock from your door disturbs you form answering and Jungkook peeks from the door. You didn't think that Jungkook would be brave enough to approach you so soon after his earlier confession. ''Taehyung asked you to go to his room.'' Jungkook tells awkwardly and without waiting for an answer he disappears again. You are excited from a opportunity to make up with Taehyung so you toss your phone on the bed hurrying out of the room. When you reach the master bedroom the door its slightly ajar and you hesitate to knock your hand hovering in the air ready announce yourself. ''I know that you are here Y/N, come in.'' You hear Taehyung's raw voice by the door. You step in slowly closing the door behind of you hearing it to click shut. The room is dimly lighted and You see Taehyung sitting on the king sized bed legs crossed, his face looking towards the closed bathroom door. Taehyung is wearing a white long sleeved shirt with a pair of black jeans rolled on his ankles. ''Look, Tae I'm sorry that I caught you in private moment and-'' ''Shh.'' Taehyung looks you over his shoulder and puts his finger over his mouth. ''Don't say a word. Just come sit next to me.'' He continues gesturing next to him. You do what you are told and wait impatiently what he has to say. After a moment which felt like an eternity Taehyung turns completely towards you and only now you see that he has left his shirt unbuttoned revealing his scarred skin. ''Tae-''You try again but Taehyung silences you once again this time his finger on your lips. ''Please, just listen to me, okay?'' He pleas his eyes full of emotion. You nod and make a gesture of zipping your mouth. ''At first I need to say that I'm not mad at you. It was my fault to leave the door open after all. The thing is that my body is big cause of my insecurities and I just couldn't bare the idea of you seeing it. '' Taehyung gulps and continues with glossed eyes. ''When I was fourteen I was alone at home, just chilling on my bed listening music from headphones my eyes closed. Because of that I didn't hear how the gas pipe leaking in the apartment on opposite wall of us. Luckily the room where the pipe was on the opposite side of that apartment so I didn't get that badly hurt. To add even more bad luck my phone was charging in different room so I didn't have that either with me... I even must have fallen a sleep during all this and didn't hear the warning cries of our neighbor.  I only woke up when the fire has reached our apartment and the air was getting hot and hard to breathe.'' Taehyung reaches for your hand and you are happy to grant it to him which he responds by sad smile.  ''When I finally woke up I was confused as hell and soon fell in to full panic mode. I tried to exit my room but the smoke in the living room was already too thick. Stupid thing in our apartment complex was that every window has bars which made it almost feel like a prison sometimes, and we often joked about it with my family, anyway this time those caused a huge trouble because I wasn't able to get out trough a window. I could hear the sirens outside and running footsteps somewhere outside of our apartment. I knew that I was in real danger and didn't thing straight. I took my shirt of and tied it around my face going straight in to that black smoke. I was barely able to see and I had to guide through our apartment by memory.  The smoke was preventing the air getting in to my lungs and burning my eyes making it even more difficult to see. I begun to cough while crawling on the ground when my leg got stuck by something. I tried to yank myself free while my lungs begged for air and my skin burned when the flames finally reached the side of the room where I was. I begun to sob and pray for a god. Before I completely blacked out I remember thinking that at least my parents were lucky not being at home. When I closed my eyes ready to face the death the front door was kicked open and firefighter entered the room. I heard him yelling and then a pair of black boots which was the last thing I saw until the darkness rewarded me.'' At this point Taehyung's eyes are freely leaking and tears rolling on his cheeks despite of this his voice is steady when he ends his story. ''When I woke up at the hospital I was hooked all kind of machines and a breathing mask on my face. My parents were sitting by my side both crying freely. I must have still been on drugs because everything seemed light and funny at the moment. I just giggled like maniac and blacked out again. When I woke up for the second time Jimin and Jungkook were in the room and my mind was more clear. I remember whining in pain and only then noticing that my whole upper body was covered in white bandages. A nurse came in invited by Jimin and she told that I had burnt badly from my upper body. She even said that I was lucky because no other permanent damage wouldn't linger, like I was lucky spending rest of my life looking like a freaking monster!'' ''Listen to me Kim Taehyung, you aren't a monster. In fact you are far from it.'' You tell with firm voice and take his face between your hands. Taehyung looks you sobbing and only think you can think of at that moment is to press your lips on his. Taehyung stays still shocked for a moment but that doesn't last for long. Soon his lips responses hungrily to yours seeking comfort. You bite his lip gently and Taehyung lets you in easily explore his mouth. You slide your tongue along his teeth and stroke his tongue with yours. You are still holding Taehyung's face and Taehyung's arms seeks your waist pulling you closer. You moan in the kiss and Taehyung parts from you panting. He isn't crying anymore and hints of lust has risen to his face. ''Will you let me show you how beautiful you are?'' You ask gently petting his hair. ''I-.'' Taehyung is lost. ''I promise that I stop if you want to, just say the word.'' You are truly serious with your words. You can't imagine what goes through Taehyung's mind when he searches answer from your eyes. He seems to find what he needs and nods finally. ''Yes please.'' He whispers and you smile happily. You back of little on the bed and gesture Taehyung to Lay down on the bed. He obeys you with little hesitation and lets air out of his lips. ''Just relax,I got you.'' You tell and get top of him your legs parted so you won't totally crush him. You return to kiss Taehyung's lips and caress his shoulders while doing so. The scars on his skin feel rough against your finger tips but you don't mind it at all. Your lips moves to peek the corner of Taehyung's lips and continues their journey to Taehyung's neck where the skin is only covered wit light white lines you are barely able to see.  You kiss his adam's apple and give hickey on his right collarbone causing Taehyung to squeeze his bed sheets in his hands. ''Will you be good to me and put your hands above your head, keep them there until I tell otherwise.'' You ask and Taehyung obeys you nodding his head too lost in his head to speak. You lean in to continue your lips journey and your lips reaches extremely nastily burned area right above his heart. You follow the lines of the burnt mark and Taehyung whines from the contact, still he wont stop you so you keep going.  Either your lips or hands caress his burnt skin showing all the love he needs.  You finally reach the line of his pants and you pull in to straighter position. ''You are perfect.'' You tell admiring Taehyung your chest full of warmth. You get up from Taehyung's body and pull your hoodie and top over your shirt revealing your bare breasts on sight. Taehyung tries to get up and reach for your chest but you push him gently down. ''Did I tell that you could move?'' You ask raising your brows amused. ''No.'' Taehyung sighs and returns to lie down his hands above his head. You are pleased how greatly Taehyung obeys you and smirk to yourself. You reach for the button of his pants and pop it open. ''Will you help me to remove your pants, raise your hips for a little.'' You ask and Taehyung is eager to obey. You pull his pants down his legs revealing a smooth unharmed skin. The contrast between Taehyung's upper and lower body is huge but it won't make you admire him any less. You palm his clothed bulge with your palm and Taehyung's voice hitches. The sight of almost naked Taehyung is so arousing that you can feel the wetness pooling to your pants and the knot tightening in your belly. While you continue to give Taehyung a hand job your other hand reaches for your breasts and you slide your fingers slowly over your nipples pinching both of them while your audience looks you hungrily. ''Can I touch you?'' Taehyung gives in finally and you nod. Taehyung is quick to change your positions and his warm large hands finds your breasts squeezing them fondly. It's your time to whine in pleasure when he continues exploring your breasts and kneading them in his hands. ''Your boobs are one of the prettiest ones I have seen.'' Taehyung sighs and by your surprise leans down to lick your right nipple which causes a signal sent right in to your core. You squeeze your tights together and its Taehyung's time to smirk. ''I thought that It was my turn to make you feel good.'' You whine annoyed by Taehyung's smirk. ''Trust me honey you are but it doesn't meant that I couldn't also remind you how you make me feel.'' Taehyung grinds against your clothed core, he now being in same position above you like you were before on top of him and you can feel how hard he is against of you. ''Tae!'' You whine when he stops but Taehyung reaches inside of your pants making you quiet again. Taehyung's rough fingers rubs your pud above your panties and you try to squirm under his touch which causes him to pinch your clit slightly. You glare him annoyed trapped between his legs. Taehyung answers to your glare with a smile and gets up from you. ''I think that your sweats are on my way.''  He tells and you, you are agreeing with him getting rid of your pants along with your underwear. ''I think your boxers are on the way.'' You retort back and Taehyung raises his brows amused but removes his underwear as well. You are now seeing Taehyung in his whole naked glory his member pointing up his tip leaking with precum. Taehyung looks you with same hunger as you look at him and his eyes stops at your glistering folds. ''Do you need some preparation or can I just fuck you?'' Taehyung whines licking his lips. You part your legs and slide your index finger between your wet folds collecting your juices along the way. ''What do you think?'' You ask smirking and Taehyung closes his eyes biting his lips.  

''Thank god.'' Taehyung murmurs and reaches on the drawer over you. You ask curiously when Taehyung pulls a condom in the view. You wait impatiently when Taehyung opens the folio and rolls the condom on his member. ''Y/N can you ride me?'' Taehyung asks licking his lips. The idea of you bouncing top of Taehyung makes you moan softly. ''Yes, But I haven't done it before.'' You warn while Taehyung gets more comfortable position leaning on the bedpost. ''It's okay, I'll help you'' Taehyung assures and pats his thighs. You crawl on the bed to Taehyung and get a top of him his member under you brushing gently your outer lips.  You take a hold of his member and position it better underneath your parted pussy. You sink in slowly closing your eyes. No matter how many men you fucked the first few seconds of someone entering you felt foreign. Taehyung takes a hold of your hips to help you slide down his pulsing member. You both moan when you finally are completely seated. You start to move together in slow rhythm Taehyung helping you thrusting upwards with his hips. Taehyung's dick rubs in a places om the new position and you can't help but let moans and whines escaping from your lips Taehyung' joining you time to time. You feel that you are getting nearer of your orgasm but your legs are getting tired. ''Can we flip?'' You plea and Taehyung is quick to agree letting you get to lie down. Taehyung pulls one of your legs above his shoulder and starts thrusting in and out of you with quicker pace. ''Tae I'm close.'' You warn closing your eyes. ''Me too, can you keep your eyes open for me? I want to see you when you come.'' Taehyung grunts in response and you force your eyes open. You don't regret giving the effort when you face Taehyung's lustful eyes and his lip bitten hard between his lip. Taehyung changes his thrusts in to circular motion and that is when you finally snap. You try to fight and keep your eyes open when Taehyung's orgasm takes over him as well but your eyes flutter shut despite of your best efforts. Taehyung falls on top of you panting and you let a displeased sound unhappy of the heavy weight a top of yours. Taehyung is quick to take a hint and rolls on to your side exiting your heated coven. You listen how your heartbeat slows down and notice from corner of your eye how Taehyung removes the condom from his softened member tossing it on the floor after making a knot on the end of it. ''Eww.'' ''Chill I will pick it up later.'' Taehyung rolls his eyes for your disgust. ''Still eww.'' You tell and let yawn. ''I'm tired too.'' Taehyung pouts and roll next to you on the bed. ''So being tired gives you a permission to be dirty?'' You ask hardly able to stay awake. ''Yup.'' Taehyung pops the P. ''No it doesn't'' you mumble and drift in to a sleep.

When you wake up few hours later Taehyung isn't next to you and the condom is thankfully away from the floor. You look out of the window and see that the night has arrived while you were out. You get dressed in Taehyung's shirt from earlier and steal a pair of boxers from his suitcase laying open on the floor. You feel little sore when you reach on the floor to pick your dirty clothes. You exit the room and when you enter the hallway you hear voices coming from the home office. You tiptoe quietly closer and try to listen the huffed sounds. ''...So we all agree, no matter who Y/N chooses we are respecting her opinion?'' Namjoon's voice comes dulled through the door. ''I agree, if any of you try to hurt Y/N I will come after you with a spatula.'' Jin tells with a  firm voice. ''A spatula?'' Jungkook mumbles confusedly but he is being ignored. ''What if she doesn't pick any of us?'' Taehyung asks followed by with short silence. ''We have to respect her no regardless what and we can't push ourselves to her only because what we feel.'' Hoseok tells with a sigh. ''I agree.'' You hear Yoongi grunting. ''We still have one person missing from this conversation, Jimin.'' ''I know, despite how he hurt Y/N it's not our right to push him away from her.'' Namjoon agrees sounding tired. ''What time he said that he was coming again?'' You change a position and a floor creeks underneath you. The voices stops in the room and you turn around on the hallway sprinting inside a closest room, which happens to be Jin's, if that matters. You have barely disappeared from a sight when you hear the home office door open on the hallway.

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Originally 

[justjessame]

Put Me In Coach

Senior year. Three years of high school, eight years of elementary and junior high, just so I could reach this, my final year. The first day of my FINAL year in this school and I end up in the principal’s office. Seriously?

“Miss Kendall.” Principal Jones was looking over my file, I could tell because my name was almost bold and highlighted.

And I was confused. I had an impeccable record. My grades were high, my extracurriculars were all academic, there was absolutely NO way that I should be in this office today of all days.

“Yes, Mr. Jones?” I was fighting to sound calm, but this was the freaking principal and he was looking at me like I was lacking. Shit.

“Miss Kendall, it appears that you’re missing some vital credits.” What? “Just one, actually.”

“Mr. Jones, that’s impossible.” I offered, my schedule this year was packed. And it was perfect. “I-Mrs. Rosin looked over my credits, every single year.” My guidance counselor, Mrs. Rosin had worked hand in hand to make sure all my credits lined up with the college requirements of my target schools.

Mr. Jones, looking far too much like a turtle for his own good, looked over his glasses at me. “Unfortunately, Mrs. Rosin missed a required class. If you expect to graduate this year,” I felt my eyes widen. “Then you’ll have to fit this one in, Miss Kendall.”

I sighed and leaned back in my chair. “Which one?” Please, let it be math, or another history class. Don’t, under any circumstances be-

“Physical education.” Shit, shit, shit. “I’m sorry, Miss Kendall, but you seem to have missed a semester of PE.”

“I thought we were only required to take two semesters?” I got into debate mode. I’d taken Coach Negan’s hellscape of a class for both Freshman and Sophomore years, I could fucking swear it. “I took it Freshman and Sophomore year.”

“Actually, according to your records, you received an incomplete in tenth grade.” What? That rat bastard. “And that means-”

“I have to retake the class.” My voice was practically a growl. I wanted to kill that asshole. “Of course I do.” He was such a fucking irritant. Arrogant asshole. “If I could get Coach Negan,” I spit his name out like it was poison. “To agree to retest me, could I get the credit without taking the class again?” Anything, please God, anything other than seeing his smug, mocking face every fucking day for a semester.

“It’s not likely, Miss Kendall.” Mr. Jones warned, but he gave in. “If you can get him to agree, then yes, you can skip the class itself.” I nodded and started to stand, but he stopped me with another warning. “You know he’s never given the option to another student.”

“Then I’ll just have to be more persuasive than they were.” I answered, walking out of the office.

 I took my revised schedule from the secretary and glared down at it. Physical education was right after lunch, because of course it was. I made my way through my classes without noticing. I took my notes, I answered questions, I did every single thing that I normally did. All muscle memory, brain and eye memory. I didn’t have to think about doing it. Or answering correctly. That was simple.

Lunch was a blur. My best friends clucking around me, not quite understanding my distraction.

“It’s not like you’re gonna be waterboarded,” Mary, the voice of reason chimed in. And I glared at her. “It’s badminton and wiffleball.”

“And the coach isn’t exactly hard on the eyes,” Eric added, giving his eyes a suggestive wiggle.

I laughed despite myself. “You could try harder to not be SO flaming.” I was picking at a muffin on my tray. The only prepackaged food that didn’t look disgusting in the cafeteria. “He’s an asshole, you both know that.”

“He’s not that bad,” Mary rolled her eyes. “Or at least he isn’t if you don’t correct his grammar every three seconds and argue about how many laps he’s made you do versus, I don’t know the cheerleaders.”

“ONE time,” I argued. “One freaking time, and he was wrong.” I was glaring again. “Why did I have to do fifteen fucking laps and that bimbo do five when she was in just as much the wrong as me?”

“Didn’t you tell Kelly that it was a good thing that she was so limber, since she’d be making her cash on, and I quote ‘the pole’ after high school?” Eric asked, grinning widely.

I groaned. “Only after she’d made a rather rude comment about my inexperience with the opposite sex.” A polite way of saying she’d compared me to Virgin Mary so many times that I was ready to rip her extensions out at the roots. “Shit. Tell me the truth, how good do you think I am at changing people’s minds?”

“You’re awesome, I’ve watched you debate.” Eric smiled. “But Coach isn’t one of the debate team students and he’s less likely to give you a pass.”

“Unless you’re prepared to use ALL your assets.” I shot Mary a look. Irony, she was named Mary and she’d probably slept with more people than Kelly.

I had to fight the urge to smack my forehead off the table. “Why me?”

“My guess?” I shot Mary another glare. “You pissed him off one too many times, this is your punishment, just you know, late.”

“You could ask him to just give your ass a nice spanking and then call it square.” Eric said as he tossed a chip in his mouth and made an indecent sound, either from the flavor or living vicariously through the image he’d created of Negan spanking me.

“Not happening.” I stood up, closing my eyes against the torture that was coming.

Mary and Eric chuckled at the martyred expression on my face. “Why are you fighting it so hard?” She asked me, a smirk on her face. “It’s not like you’re out of shape or that you can’t do it.”

“Not the fucking point.” I growled, grabbing my bag. “I already did it. I shouldn’t have to do it again. It’s not-”

“Fair.” They both finished for me with matching grins. “Yeah, but you might have to. Fair or not.” Eric stated calmly.

I straightened my back and fixed the skirt of my dress. “Or, he can pretend to be a reasonable human being instead of a rancid asshole and I can get on with my preplanned Senior year.”

“Good luck,” they called as I walked out of the cafeteria, trying desperately to believe that I had a chance at winning the battle ahead.

 I found him in his office. He was leaning back in his desk chair, feet up on the surface of his desk, and looking like he was waiting for me. Shit.

“Why, Miss Kendall, whatever brings you to see me?” He was smiling and his dimples were deep with glee. Fuck. “Oh, that’s right, you’re doing a repeat.”

I forced my face into a smile. “Actually, Coach, I wanted to speak with you about that.” His eyes were twinkling and I had to fight glaring. “I think we both know that I completed my second semester, and if I could retake any of the written tests, then I could be out of your hair and on my way.” To a real class. That I really need.

“We both know?” He sat up, placing his feet on the floor, but staying in his chair. “I don’t think I’d agree with that assumption.” Shit. “After all, I’m the one who marked it incomplete.” And then, to prove that Mary and Eric were right, the zinger. “Did I say that properly, Miss Kendall? I know what a stickler you are for proper English.” Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

“Yes, sir.” I answered, and I could have sworn that his eyes darkened. “I can’t dress for class today, I wasn’t told until I got to school that my schedule had changed.”

“That’s fine, Miss Kendall.” He stood and I stepped back, he seemed to fill the small room. “For today, you can take inventory.”

 Days and days of torture. “Miss Kendall, keep your knees up.” Or “Miss Kendall, your eye isn’t on the ball.” The reminders to move faster, that I was older than my classmates, to keep up. I wanted to take the plastic bat and smack him right in his short wearing dick.

Lunch became pep talk time for my best friends. “Look you’ve made it a month.” Eric kept the countdown going. “You’ve only got three more months, and most of two of those are holidays.”

“And you’re keeping your cool,” Mary would pitch in. “You’re not calling him out on his weird shit, you’re doing what you’re told. It’s cake.”

And then I’d leave and go change and start another round of torture. Pulling on shorts and my sports bra/tank combo, tie my tennis shoes and ignore the underclassmen. It became a habit. And then to the gym to hear what our fearless coach had in store for that particular day’s hell.

“Miss Kendall,” I was stretching, getting ready for laps, not from punishment but for class. I looked up and waited. “Come here, Miss Kendall.” Don’t roll your eyes, I was telling myself, don’t roll your fucking eyes.

“Yes, Coach?” I asked, oozing perky politeness.

Negan was staring down at me, and his lip quirked. “Miss Kendall, I was thinking that another inventory is due.” Yes, I thought, fucking no sweating for me today. “Let me get the class started and you and I will head over and get started.” Wait, what?

“Didn’t I do it well the last time?” Come on, don’t make me deal with you for the entire class.

“You did fine, but I want to DIG A LITTLE DEEPER into the equipment stocks.” Damn it, did he mean for that to have the innuendo? Or was I just, shit, was I getting horny? Fuck, was Eric rubbing off on me now?

“OK,” please tell me that I didn’t sound as breathless to him as I did to myself. “I’ll just go, get the clipboard.” I wandered to his office.

I was looking for the damn clipboard when I heard him enter the office. Usually the damn thing was right on the corner of his fucking desk, but today of all fucking days, nowhere to be found. I was just about to ask him where it was when I realized that he was leaning against the closed office door. Damn it.

“Miss Kendall.” Had his voice always been this deep? “I thought we should have a private conversation, before we get started on inventory.”

I nodded, and felt like I’d run the fucking laps when I wasn’t looking. Why was I breathing so damn hard?

“You alright?” He’d moved closer and was looking down at me again. He licked his lower lip and my eyes landed on the movement. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“I can’t find the clipboard.” I offered, lamely.

He smiled. Not a smirk, not mocking, just a smile and it changed his entire appearance. “I’ll get it for you in a minute, sweetheart.” His hand moved up and he brushed my bangs away from my eyes where they’d fallen during my search. “Do you hate me, Miss Kendall?”

My eyes narrowed, was this a trick? “No, of course not, Coach.” I swallowed when the pad of his finger brushed my cheek. “I just hate gym.” And the tone you use to get your way. I added.

“I can be a bit harsh,” he sounded so quiet, so different. “I just want everyone to reach their potential.” I nodded and bit my lip. His eyes landed on my teeth worrying it. “You remind me of myself, Miss Kendall.”

Wait, what? “I’m not sure I-”

He moved past me and grabbed the clipboard off the top of his filing cabinet. Way beyond my eye level. “Smart mouth. Hates shortcuts. Willing to take the punishment if it’s worth the cost.” My stomach clenched at the way he said ‘punishment’. “Here,” he handed me the clipboard. “Let’s go get knee deep in balls.” And I found myself laughing despite myself and his grin in answer was something I found myself enjoying.

 I stopped hating going to the gym after lunch as much after that day. Not that Negan had stopped being demanding. Oh that wasn’t ever likely to happen. He just started being a little less abrasive. I even convinced him that my first name wasn’t ‘Miss’.

“Amara?” Ah, there it was, my actual name. I jogged over to him from where I’d been hitting the tennis ball against the wall. Rain made the courts unusable. “Can you come after school today? I have a,” he glanced down at me and I felt my stomach flutter. “Job for you.”

“Sure, Coach.” I answered, jogging back to my place in line, knowing from the burning feeling on my back that he’d watched me go. I fixed my ponytail while waiting for another go, and glanced back to see him biting his lip as his eyes stayed on me. Dear Lord.

 The end of the day found me walking back to the gym, wearing another dress, very similar to the one I’d worn on the first day of school. The building had emptied fast, it was the middle of the week, no clubs were meeting. It was raining and gross outside, so the sports teams had practice cancelled. The halls were eerily quiet, the flashes of lightning and the crashes of thunder the only noise other than my shoes on the tiles heading to his office.

If I was being honest with myself, and why not? I knew that we’d been tap dancing around something. The flirting that wasn’t overt, but it wasn’t subtle either. The way he’d stopped calling me ‘Miss Kendall’. The way he felt comfortable with casually brushing my bangs out of my face, or tugging on my ponytail when I jogged in front of him. Not in full view of the class, but when we both knew we could take notice of it.

Somehow I knew, as I finally saw his office door in view, that today was it. The climax of those touches, those comments. That when I knocked, and he invited me in, we’d finally figure out what the fuck we wanted.

I knocked and heard his low voice call out for me to come in. “Amara.” He was sitting exactly how he’d been sitting that first day of term. Leaning back in the chair, feet on the desk, and smiling up at me.

“Coach.” I answered, leaning against the other side of the desk. I saw his eyes flicker down my body, at least the part he could see now. The red plaid dress, long tight sleeves, buttoned up and belted, with the flared skirt. “You asked to see me?”

That smile, those dimples, and fuck those eyes all trained on me. “Oh, I definitely wanted to see you, princess.” Shit. Princess? “Come here, sweetheart.” His feet hit the floor and he sat up in the chair and pushed back from the desk.

I walked around his desk and he pushed his chair back and stood up. “What do you need me to do, sir?” I asked, looking up at him. He inhaled sharply at my words and I smiled when I realized my words were double edged.

“I thought we could go over,” he turned toward his desktop and I saw a pile of papers. “These.” he tapped the top. “Test grading, I fucking hate it.”

“Oh.” I turned to the pile, and felt him standing behind me, close enough to feel his heat, but still far enough back that he wasn’t touching me. “So you want me to grade these for you?”

And then he was pressed closer, his body touching my dress, but not my body. “I’ll help, of course, but yeah. If you don’t have plans?”

My eyes closed at the feeling of his warmth so close to me. I cleared my throat and fought against turning around and pulling him to me. He was my teacher for fuck’s sake. “No plans.” Breathless again, fuck. I bit my lip and waited for him to take his seat, for him to push some of the papers to the side for me to handle and let me grab a chair to do it. Instead, his body closed the small gap and I felt him. ALL of him. And boy, was there more of him than I expected. Shit.

He leaned over me and pointed to the top of the pile. “This is just one class,” I felt his breath teasing my hair. “I have a full load this semester, so it may take awhile to get through all of them.” Damn it, another double meaning. His full load...fuck.

My lip was close to bleeding by this point. His heat was one thing, but his fucking body? Yeah, that was going to fucking kill me. “I have the time.” Jesus, I sounded like a bad Marilyn Monroe impersonator. Pretty fucking soon I’d break out into a rendition of ‘Happy Birthday, Coach Negan.’

“Glad to hear it, Amara.” Did he have to say my name like that? Like he could taste it, me? Savor the letters, make a full meal out of one syllable. He still hadn’t pulled away, and before I made the conscious decision to do it, I bent over to study the papers and let my butt roll back into his body. I heard his breath hiss out of his lips and fought a smile.

Looking over my shoulder, I could see his eyes were closed, like he was fighting against something. “Guess we should get started, right Coach?” His eyes opened and found me looking at him, and those dimples came back with a smile.

“Good idea.” And then he was in his chair, and gesturing toward one of the less comfortable ones on the other side of the desk.

 We worked through the piles, me wondering the entire time if he had kept the grading of all of them off until today because the piles seemed endless. Not that I was complaining, not really. Negan asked me questions as he worked through his pile, and I answered glaring at some of the papers wondering how bad these kids had to be to fuck up a quiz in gym.

“Which of my dumbass students is taking you to Homecoming, Amara?” He asked, at one point, eyes not leaving the paper in front of him.

“Homecoming?” I looked up at him. The hell did that come from? “Who said I’d be going to Homecoming?”

I saw his eyebrow raise, even with his eyes down on the paper in front of him. “You are a Senior, right?” I chuckled, well spotted.

Rolling my eyes, I turned my attention back to the paper in front of me and red lined another wrong answer. “Yep.” I popped the ‘p’, and groaned. “Don’t see why that means I have to participate in the archaic bullshit that is Homecoming.”

I heard his answering laugh, but kept grading. “No ambitions to be queen?” My eyes rolled again. “Or holding out for prom?”

“Neither.” I looked up to see him studying me. Putting the end of my red pen between my lips, I considered why he would assume I’d want either. Wow, a Senior girl, must want a tiara? I pulled the pen from my lips, pretending I didn’t notice how his had been focused on my absent sucking on a pen for shit’s sake, and smiled. “I guess you haven’t noticed, Coach, but I don’t need a crown to be a fucking queen.”

His smile turned into a full blown laugh. “Guess not.” And then we went back to grading. A few minutes passed and then, “No date?” What? On the test? I didn’t answer, thinking it was something he was asking the test. “Amara?”

“Yeah?” I looked up and met his eyes.

“Don’t have a date?” He asked, again, and I realized it had been directed at me.

I squinted, trying to pick up the conversation where we’d stopped. Homecoming. Ah. I shook my head. “No, no date.” I didn’t feel like pretending I cared about football, or the dance, for that matter. I started to return my attention to the next test, when he stopped me again.

“Must be fucking blind,” it was almost a mutter, but I looked up at him again, and saw him still studying me. “Those assholes must be fucking blind.” I felt the fluttering of butterflies in my stomach grow.

“Not sure about that,” I offered, looking back down. “I didn’t say I didn’t have offers, Coach, I said I didn’t have a date.” I was smirking at the paper in front of me, holding back a giggle. Shit, he’d looked so aghast by the mere thought of no one taking notice of me, I couldn’t help it.

“Who?” He had gone back to his own stack, and sounded almost nonchalant. Almost.

I flicked through the next few questions before asking. “Joe Malberry,” captain of the wrestling team. “Josh Grady,” one of the football players. “Oh, yeah, and Alex Ransom,” pitcher on the baseball team. I kept marking papers, but couldn’t hear his pen touching the papers in front of him. Curious I looked up to see he was watching me again. “What?” I felt self conscious.

“Collecting players from all the sports, princess?” His voice was low and sounded dark.

I shook my head again. “I don’t have a date, like I told you.” Not that I didn’t date, or that I hadn’t dated each of the guys I’d named, but he looked somewhat dangerous and I was smart enough not to poke a caged bear.

“And no boyfriend?” Ah, great, more relationship questions. Another shake of my head. “Why not?”

I kept my eyes on him. “Why get serious with a boy?” I leaned forward slightly, like I was about to share a secret. “Maybe I prefer men.” Winking at him, I went back to my stack of papers.

The silence stretched between us again, until finally, the papers were graded. I was about to grab my bag when he stopped me again. “If you could, Amara, tomorrow afternoon I’d like you to update my grade book.” I smiled at him across his desk.

“Consider it a date, Coach.” Another wink and I walked out.

 Eric was staring at me during lunch with a shrewd eye. “Why do you look like you’re REALLY looking forward to gym class today?” Shit, how had he- “You keep looking at your watch like you’re doing a fucking countdown to the end of lunch.”

“Another day, another X off the days I have to be there,” I tried. Taking a long sip from my drink, and hoping beyond hope that Mary wasn’t as astute or that her attention had been on that huge ass football player she’d had her eye on all month.

She snorted and I knew that my luck wasn’t good. “Sure, Amara, sure.” I looked over to see her eyes gleaming. “You haven’t bitched about good old Coach for weeks. Or sweating. Or any of the other irritating shit you usually bitch about.” She was studying me, and when I glanced at Eric I realized he was too. “Are you hot for teacher?” She made a mock gasp of modesty. “Amara Kendall, are you thinking inappropriate things about Coach Negan?”

I could FEEL Eric’s smile before I even glanced to confirm it. “Oh shit, she’s caught it.” I glared. “You caught the horniness.” I rolled my eyes. “Wow, Amara’s human, who fucking knew?”

“Fuck you.” I hissed, trying to feel more anger than I did. Truth was I was practically bursting with it. And I hadn’t been able to tell anyone. “It’s nothing. I’m just staying after to help him-”

“Count his balls?” Eric offered, snickering. “You did say you do inventory for him after all.”

“Inspecting Coach Negan’s balls-” Mary hummed in appreciation. “Feeling pretty damn jealous, Amara.”

The bell rang and I groaned. “You two make it seem so dirty.”

“If it’s good, it’ll be very fucking dirty,” Eric whispered into my ear as his arm came around my shoulder.

“And wet,” Mary offered from my other side, “otherwise it’ll hurt.”

“You both suck,” I muttered as I pulled away and started for the gym.

“You better too!” was their parting shot and I felt the blush burn my cheeks.

  Class went normally. Or as normally as class can go when you’re ignoring the teacher. Or trying desperately to ignore the teacher.

“Amara!” I looked up as a ball came straight for my face. “Keep your eye on the ball!” Fuck. I dodged just in time to not sport a black eye. “Head in the game, people, head in the game!” He was smirking at me like he knew what I was trying to NOT think about.

The game, the class, dragged on. Longest fucking gym class of my life. And as I started for the locker room, he called me over. I tightened my ponytail and jogged to where he was leaning against the wall.

“Yeah, Coach?” I asked, telling myself that I was breathless from the exertion from exercise, not from the scent of him. I bit my lip and looking up I saw his eyes were laser focused on my mouth.

“Still on for this evening?” I nodded, and his hand reached out to swipe my bangs out of my face. “Good, my grade book is feeling pretty fucking neglected.” I smiled up at him. “See you after school.”

“Later, Coach.” I turned and walked toward the locker room. Feeling his eyes on me the entire way.

 I was at my locker, listening to the rowdiness of the other students slamming doors and screaming out plans for their evenings. Tugging on the silky fabric of the dress that barely peeked out from under my over-sized sweater. Knee high socks and matching boots completed the look, my hair braided over one shoulder. I sighed, and gave myself a pep talk. It was just updating his grade book. I was CLEARLY reading more into everything than he meant me to. There was NO WAY that Negan looked at me as ANYTHING more than his only upper class student with more brains than brawn.

I almost missed Eric and Mary coming by to offer their see ya laters, or their heavy handed innuendos about my after school activities.

“Remember, don’t be a hero,” Mary offered, tugging on my braid. “Not everyone can deepthroat on their first go.” I glared at her, for fuck’s sake, I wasn’t a damn virgin.

“Don’t glare, it’s good advice.” Eric continued. “We know you’ve fucked, sweetie, but Coach isn’t in the peewee leagues, he’s a MAN.” A wink and a laugh and they were off. Fuckers.

And I’d almost had my nerves under control. But they were in full bloom as I made my way down the once again empty hallways. The gym came first, then the office door, and my hand knocked gently.

“Come in.” I took a deep breath and opened the door. At ease in his desk chair, leaned back reading a magazine, with his feet up I let my breath out. See, I told myself, not interested in me at all. “Wow,” his eyes flicked to me standing framed in the doorway, and I watched him drop the magazine and take in the full vision of me. “Feel like I’m under dressed, Amara.”

I smiled. “Dress for the job you want, right Coach?” I offered, walking into the room further and putting my bag down next to the chair I’d sat in to grade papers. “Grade book?”

“What job do you want, Amara?” His eyes were still on the way my sweater was falling slightly off one shoulder, showing the thin strap of the satin and lace dress I wore underneath. I took my seat and crossed my legs, knowing that my skirt rose a bit higher when I did.

“Why don’t you guess?” I sat back, looking more confident and carefree than my stomach would indicate, I hoped.

I watched Negan bite his lip and drink me in. “Never seen anyone in any job dressed like that, sweetheart.”

“Let’s go with a student for now,” I offered, and his eyes met mine. “Isn’t that what I am?” I shrugged my shoulder, and felt the sweater slip a bit more. His eyes locked on the bared skin and I saw him swallow.

“Yeah,” he breathed and then he snapped himself out of whatever image had been playing in his mind. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a generic grade book. Walking around the desk, he leaned against the edge to open the book. “Pretty standard, but,” I leaned forward to follow his finger as he explained how he liked the grades to be entered. My hand reached out to trace a line and he stilled.

“So you want them to run linear, but you also want the grades to be both numerical and alphabetical.” I glanced up at him and saw that my hand, over the book, was right over where his crotch would be if the book wasn’t in the way. Oh. I bit my lip and he groaned.

“Shit.” He sat fully on the desktop and looked up to the ceiling. Gathering strength? Resolve? “Amara,” he looked down at me and then the grade book was tossed on the desk and my hand was on his thigh. Oops. He swallowed hard. “Honey, do you really want your hand there?”

I studied him. He wasn’t pushing my hand away, he wasn’t disgusted or pissed. He was warning me, but not the type of warning I expected. It made my next move easier. “No,” I whispered up at him. “I think I want my hand here.” I moved and cupped him through his gym shorts. “Is this alright, Coach Negan?”

His eyes rolled back as my hand pressed down a bit harder, feeling how hard he was, and was only getting harder. I licked my lips and slid my hand along the shaft I could feel through his layers. His hand covered mine, but instead of drawing mine away, he helped me find the rhythm he wanted. He swallowed a moan and I smiled up at him. “Keep that up, princess, and we’re not gonna get anything done.”

“Still want that grade book updated, sir?” He couldn’t hold back his moan at that. He really enjoyed that ‘sir’ shit. I licked my lips again. “Hand me the book.” I took my hand away and his hands took my elbows and pulled me from my chair.

“That’s not what’s gonna get done, Amara.” And then his lips met mine and it was me trying to hold back my moans. His tongue flicked against my lips and I opened my mouth for him. One of my hands found his neck, the other was fisted his shirt both holding him to me. He pulled away slightly and I groaned. “You want this, right?” Wait, what?

“Read the room, Coach,” I muttered, and pulled his face back to me. “Do I look like I’m fighting it?” His chuckle vibrated my lips as our mouths met again.

He turned our bodies, so I was sitting on his desk and he was standing between my open knees. “Knees up, Miss Kendall.” He ordered against my mouth and I obliged. His hands slid up my boots to my raised knees, helping to put my feet on the desk. He hummed as his hands continued up my bare thighs, under the satin skirt of my dress, until his fingers hooked into the thread that constituted the waistband of my lace panties. He tried to pull them down, but it was basically a thread, and I giggled as they literally snapped in his fingers. Oops. “Fuck. I didn’t mean to-”

I shook my head, and nipped at his bottom lip. “I have more.” And his mouth left mine, kissing along my jaw, nibbling on my earlobe.

“Good,” he breathed against my ear. “I didn’t mean to, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to.” And then his teeth grazed the sensitive skin under my ear and my eyes closed. He kissed down my neck and his fingers, which had gone still after destroying my panties, started to explore my waist, the soft skin of my upper thighs, teasing but not touching where I was internally begging him to. “Seems like you want something, Amara,” his mouth was on my shoulder, bared before he’d even touched me. “Say it, sweetheart. Tell me what you want.”

“Touch me,” I pleaded, my fingers digging into his shoulders, pushing down, trying without words to show him.

“Where?” His nose was buried between my sweater and satin clothed breasts, breathing in my perfume. “Where, princess, where do you want me to touch you?”

“Everywhere, sir, everywhere.” I breathed, and felt his chuckle vibrate through my sternum. “But first,” my hand left his shoulder and met his under my skirt. “Here,” and pulling his hand to the center of my heat I sighed as the pads of his finger brushed my folds.

“Oh, here?” He asked, pulling back to look into my face, my eyes locked on his. And then, he let his fingers slip through the slick wetness he found with my help. “You’re wet, Amara, so fucking wet.” Between the lips, feeling the dampness grow, he licked his lips. As his thumb brushed my tightly wound bundle of nerves, my hips left the desk. His other hand moved to hold my hips down. “Now, now I didn’t say you could move, sweetheart.” Fuck. He let one long finger slide up and down my slick, and then, watching my face and my expressions, slid slowly inside. My head fell back and I practically growled at the feeling. Fuck, a finger, and I was ready to go insane. I wouldn’t fucking survive his actual dick. “How’s that feel, Amara?”

I tried rocking my hips, I tried rolling closer. His hand holding me still was like a vise. Fuck. “Not enough, that’s how it feels, Coach. Like it’s NOT enough.” I bit down on my lip as he added another finger, still not moving once I was impaled by both. Fucking tease. “Is this a fucking punishment for something?” I begged, trying once again to move my hips, to force him to move.

“Oh, sweetheart, when I punish you, you’ll fucking know it.” Shit, I just got- “You like that don’t you, princess? The idea of me punishing you.” I felt my walls clamp down on his fingers and so did he. “We’ll have to talk about that later,” he leaned forward and licked back into my mouth. “I want to taste you, Amara,” he breathed into my mouth.

And he did. He feasted on me. He used those fingers of his, and that mouth on him, to make me a shaking, moaning mess on his desk. And then, once he felt he’d had his fill of me, he stood up and helped me take off my sweater, sliding his hands over the satin of my dress before tugging it over my head and tossing it on the chair with my sweater. The bra was gone before I could contemplate it, and then, I was pulling his shirt off his body, tugging down his shorts and without any more preamble, he was thrust deep inside of me. My feet still on the desk, my knees high, my legs open, and his hands on my hips controlling the rhythm.

My hands were back on his shoulders, my mouth and tongue tasting the skin of his chest, finding tattoos I wouldn’t have known about in ordinary circumstances, but then his hips moved and I whimpered. “Is that the spot, Amara?” He growled, hitting it again and again, as I arched my hips a bit higher, trying to find friction and purchase. “That’s it, isn’t it, sweetheart?” And then again, and I was pleading by offering him his name over and over. “Come on, princess, come on.”

And it happened. Like a freight train rushing through me, I came, biting his shoulder so I wouldn’t scream and felt his thrusting stutter as my clamping and tightening body forced him over too. We were shaking and breathing hard, but he didn’t pull away. He kept holding me, his fingers sliding over my bare skin as he grew limp inside of me. His lips kissing my forehead when I pulled away from his chest to look up at him. Our bodies were slick with sweat, a sweat that I would gladly wear again and again. Our lips met, and I smiled into his kiss.

When we pulled back, his forehead pressed against mine, I had to laugh when he said, “now about that grade book.”

[madllamamomma]

I Think I Have a Problem.... (A personal true story).

So as the title suggests, I have a strange problem…. Just as a warning, this is about my view of my younger self. It is about religion, and gender identity. This is not how I see the world anymore. It was how I told how the world should look. If you are offended in any way, please know this is a vent post and nothing to hurt anyone else. This is just what happened to me as a child. Shit….. This is about to get very long winded, so buckle up and here we go… *takes deep breath*

So a little backstory on your Mother Llama: I was raised in a weird backward ass “Independent” Baptist church most of my young life. If you guys don’t know what those are, be thankful…. But I guess I should explain it the best way I can…. they are a borderline cult. Yes. I said it. I’m not sorry. It may sound like an extreme accusation, but hold on. Just listen to me.

Now, I have no problem with Christians, or religion. You should believe whatever you want to believe in…. I do however, have a problem when religion is used as an excuse to not educate minds about the real world, force them to not let them think for themselves, and when someone questions any of it, they are punished or shamed for it instead of thinking about an answer. If you can’t tell, I am still a little angry about that shit. Imma try to keep on topic here….

I wasn’t taught science (real science anyways, it was all about ‘creation’ bs—OH! And being anything but a cis straight person was compleltly unexceptable. Woman were the weaker sex and were made to raise babies and take care of the husband. Men were superior and should be taken care of.) nor about World history or about other cultures, other than biblical of course. And when they were mentioned, they made them look evil and behave like heathens because they didn’t believe the same as they did. Everything changed when I went to public school half of fourth grade when my family moved to a different state and there wasn’t any church school like I went to. I learned a lot those years, that ‘The World’ wasn’t as bad of a place as they said it was. It was vast and had many things to offer. (No, not the World, Dio’s stan power from Jojo’s bizarre adventures—that is what our pastors called anything outside of the Baptist approved realm. Something ‘Worldly’ was basically something sinful and ungodly and therefor was bad and wrong).

So this may seem like a strange Segway in to what I am actually getting at, but I had a huge crush on this boy back when I was young and it started when I was about 12 or 13 years old and ended when I was 16. He was the same age as me, and he was the son of a pastor of a small church of about 20 people, mostly military families— we will call him.... D.... for dick...

I thought for a long time that I ‘loved’ D. I thought that ‘God made him for me’ (yes I really said that and it hurt to even write it). I really thought I knew what love was back then, but I was very wrong.

D was homeschooled, he didn’t have many friends and was also a navy brat like I was. So, naturally, we got along very well, and I would hang out with him at his house sometimes. We mainly played video games I was terrible at and he would always bet me. But I liked hanging out with him, so I didn’t care if I won or not. My heart for some reason was totally head over heels over D. And he liked me too for a while… or at least I thought he did… He however never made a move. I always thought D was just too shy, and didn’t know how to ask me. Any time I tried holding his hand, I’d chicken out. It was a stalemate. But this particular church did a thing where people had to court. Yes... COURT someone, not DATE (Courting is where you had adult chaperones keeping an eye on you two, you were never really alone. Ever, because apparently you can’t be trusted?). When we both turned 15 yo, D started a private Christian school. Being the awkward girl I was, I never told him how I felt, I just waiting for him to say something. Time passed, and I still waited and waited for him to ask me out.

But here’s the thing! He didn’t know the real me.

I was in public school, in middle school, and I started to become a weeb. Like a super cringy weeb that didn’t like anything else but anime—I was also kinda emo/punk kid thought I was edgy. (Yeah rock music was bad too, it was ‘Worldly’).Not a very good mix for Baptist I know. At school, I was one person, and at church I was another.

Well, being an anime fan meant I was exposed to a lot of things like the LGTB+ community for the first time. A lot of my friends at the time started to come out other than straight and that was very new to me.

During that time, I soon was starting to secretly question my faith, my understanding of my own sexuality and gender. Like, maybe people liking the same sex or both is actually not a bad thing after all (if you haven’t seen any of my works, hopefully you guys know that I know better that what I was taught—I am a proud fuckin’ ally! I still consider myself cis-straight, but some days I feel like I’m bi-curious, and that’s ok! It took me a long time to realize that, but I’m here now. Gender roles are dead and stupid.)

So here is the kicker~ One faithful day we had a guest pastor join us for a few weeks from another church. This mother fuckin’ nasty ass old white man from Alabama came with his ‘perfect quiet godly’ wife. Who badly ever spoke a damn word. She always just sat in the corner all ‘ladylike’.

—Oh!!! Another fun fact, I didn’t wear pants for a year when I was 10 yo becasue that was considered “cross dressing”— I’m dead fucking serious. My parents then decided after attending sporting events and stuff like that to drop that ludicrous lifestyle, becasue it was stupid. So, Outside of church, my family and I still wore pants and shorts and whatever, but in church we pretended that we didn’t wear anything but modest skirts, dresses, and long culottes. (That’s a little damaging…. don’t you think? Telling people your one thing, when in reality you're not like that at all??)

Anyways— I hated skirts, especially wearing them in the state we lived in, it was way too hot and I’d get chafed (these had to be knee length or longer btw). And of course that guest preacher would preach about the sins of women wearing pants, but I didn’t care. I wore them for so long, it just made me angry anytime someone would bring that up. I liked my jeans and I was starting to become a rebel teen who gave less than a fuck and started to speak my mind. Which was dangerous to that community…. Also I had a bad tendency of not keeping my legs together when I bent down, and one time I accidently showed my underwear (that’s really embarrassing btw, it’s not cute, it’s not funny, it’s awful when you're 14 yo-- really any age actually).

So, one day I wore a long jean skirt for a youth outing with the church. I was required to wear it, but I always wore leggings underneath so I wouldn’t accidentally show my undies if I fell down or the wind blew it. This fucker had to say something about it. The old man turned to me with a wrinkled smirk as I was passing by him and dared to utter, “Now, don’t you feel most femine and ladylike in that skirt? I’m sure Jesus would like seeing you like that.”

My shoulders clench up tight, my brow furrows. All I can remember seeing is fucking red and actually trembling with fury. (This was happening in my pastor, D’s father’s, own living room mind you.) D was there watching as I blanched about ten shades of red in anger and embarrassed because that prick of an old man called me out in front of everyone. I turned to him and half shouted, “NO! I don’t!” I could see my pastor’s mouth drop to the floor as I began to completely obliterate this old man. But I couldn't stop myself as I started to further cut into him. “—I hate wearing skirts! I don’t feel ladylike! In fact, they make me feel vulnerable! What if some guy tries to rape me! They won’t have any problem getting to me!—Why is something with a whole on the bottom more ladylike than something that actually covers me?! I like pants! They are comfortable and they make me feel safe! Why is that a sin to wear something that is more covering?!?! I’m not cross dressing, my mom bought them in the girl’s session!! [Keep in mind that was a long time ago, I don’t feel like people should care about what section they get their clothes from, wear what you want] And what do you know about wearing a skirt?! You’re a man! You try wearing them! They suck! You need to stop telling me what I can and can’t wear! I’m not dressing like a whore for wearing something with a crotch!! SO LEAVE ME ALONE!!” Everyone in the living room was just stunned at my audacity to dare speak to this pastor like I did. But he was so fucking quiet after that. And I stormed out of the house and the guest pastor never spoke to me again about it. Luckily my mom came and picked me shortly after that. She was angry too after I told her what happened. That old fuck singled me out and I was pissed off. I was a teenager and that shit was embarrassing!

But I made the mistake of showing my true self. I think after that moment, D stopped liking me after that.

Some shit went down south with my parents behind closed doors of my household, and eventually they got divorced. They left the small church because the pastor didn’t approve of it. Pastor said that my parents just needed more counseling but he didn't understand that they just needed to not be together. Sometimes you can’t make things work. Especially when your dad is a toxic piece of shit that only cares about himself.

Anyways, everyone in my family left the church, but I stuck around that shit-hole just to see if D would ask me out. I was so desperate, I felt like I waited forever, but really it was like 2-3 years, and I felt like I couldn’t give up. Eventually D and I turned 16. He started to become distant and a little mean towards me and I became confused and started to realize the worst. Finally, I was tired of waiting so I asked his older sister if he liked me on the way back taking me home. I could see it in her face, that she didn’t want to have my heart broken, but reluctantly she told me no. He actually liked another girl at his new private school and was going to ask her parents to court her instead.

I was so devastated.... It hurt so much, I cried myself to sleep that night, and most of that week I was very sad.

Obviously, after that, I stopped going to church entirely, I couldn't show my face anymore. Finally let myself question my faith, sexuality, gender roles, and humanity all together. And realized that religion was stupid (in my opinion at the time) and I came u with the conclusion that people can be sheep. I was a sheep for a long time. And I refuse to be one ever again.

High school was very enjoyable after that, and I let myself grow and started to love other religions and world history, and tried to stop being so judgmental of others and what they felt like. I even got into a relationship with a sweet boy around my age.

Eventually in college, after a break-up with my high school sweetheart, I reconnected with D via FB. Apparently, the church went under and his parents moved away to Greece to be missionaries or something. D still lives in the same town I’m in, but graduated from a “Christian academy”—not Catholic, Christian. Catholic colleges are accredited at least. But he basically told me he was a secret “bad boy” now. He lost his virginity in highschool, (like I did) and he was totally trying to booty call me. Not even hiding it either! He was like, “Hey, Llama, you wanna fuck?”.

And I was like, “D! You broke my fucking heart when we were young! Don’t you remember that???”

And he was like, “Oh no! I had no idea! (the fuckin’ liar). Well, we can fuck now!~ *wink, wink*”

🤨

This is where I was a jerk.... Because he broke my heart. I led him on, told him I would meet up with him at his house to sleep with him, and just didn’t show up—ghosted him ever since. The worst part about that, is I still don’t regret doing that to him. I hope I hurt his feelings and felt like an ass like I did.

So years have passed, I consider myself as a rather successful woman now. I’m 27, I consider myself Buddhist (I am a terrible Buddhist I know), I am an Occupational Therapy Assistant and I have a great husband (I married the guy I was with in high school). And he loves the real me—the crazy closet weeb, cartoon watching, creative, expressive, me! The person who also writes fanfiction about a romance novel and he is fine with it. Because he is a huge nerd too and we are both nerds together.

My husband is my best friend and I don’t know what I’d do without him. When I write about Rhemi and Muriel, I draw a lot of inspiration with our conversation we have and how relationship dynamics are and I think it makes the writing more authentic and makes them feel a bit more real.

I love my husband more than anything… So why do I keep dreaming about that stupid asshole that just liked the fake me? D was and always will be a total tool. He is like the basic bitch of a man. And yet I still find him creeping in my dreams and I try to cheat on my husband with him in them. I wake up feeling totally terrible and weird after them too. D is a terrible fucking person—the worst person you can be in my opinion—The kind of person why lies and tells people one thing, but hides the fact that he’s really just a nasty fuck boy. If you are one, just be honest! Don’t tell another woman you're a good christan man, when really you’ve slept with not just one, but multiple girls! That how you get fucking STDs! I hate being lied to, and I’m sure other girls do too! So I guess that’s why I do, because I felt like I was lied to my entire life. Then again, why should I even care?! Why do I feel like I still obsess over him? I hate him so much now! So why do I even care? Why do I still find myself stalking him on social media? Why does it even matter? Why do I want him to see I’m happy without him? Why do I want him to see what he could have had with me? We were just stupid teenagers! Why did I care so much? Why did it hurt so much when I found out he didn’t like me?! It’s been over a decade, and we didn’t even really date! Why did this affect me so hard? …. FUCK!

So yeah. That’s my long ass rant for you all… thanks for coming to my ted talk.

[eternitas-archive]

Oh one more thing before I leave

It’s just my two cents but I really gotta speak it into the world.

This is gonna be LONG so here have a read more

You all are hypocritical cherry pickers that want fandoms and communities to cater to your interests and morals

And let me tell you honey, that is gonna ruin not only your own experience, but everyone elses.

Lemme adress some things

Why y’all so ready to cry wolf when someone ages up a character?

The discourse is probably as old as this fucking community. It happens every other month and I am sick of it. “If you age up characters you are a pedo uvu sorry I don’t make the rules.” yes you do. You literally made up your own fucking rules about this. “Well you are shipping with a minor!” they’re aged up. “But you still ship with a minor!!”

Okay by that logic, why are we allowing all these other shippers doing their thing? The people that ship with Sans from Undertale that is a skeleton? I mean he is still just a skeleton linking him strongly to the image of death so necrophilia much?

What about the people shipping with inanimate objects? The people shipping with transformers? Those are aliens and or vehicles? Yeah that is mechanophilia.

What about people who ship with f/os that have animalistic features? I mean they are mainly antropomorphic but they still are animals. Beastiality

“No wait that is all dif-”

How about the people shipping with villains and criminals? Clearly that means they endorse that shit irl.

What about the people that ship with people MUUUCH older than them? some millenia or hundreds of years? or just 20? clearly endorse predatory behavior

While we’re at it what’s up with people shipping with divine beings? Angels? Demons? Sounds like blatant blasphemy to me

Do I want you to double down so you can prove yourself right? NO! I want you to understand that you guys are cherry picking and not understanding correlation between topics! Are there legit pedos on tumblr? yes. is it a strangers job to care for all the minors out there? no? If I go into a park it is not my job to hold an eye out for all kids that there are. I am not their parent, guardian or otherwise a person with any responsibility towards them. Same for people on the internet. I will do my shit and keep to myself. and if I happen to enjoy stuff for myself that is my right. Do I halt at a red light bc I want to be a good example for kids so they don’t learn bad behavior? Can I stop every person that crosses a red light and hold them a long ass lecture about how they endorse dangers in the streets? No.

“But there are minors on the internet!” Yes, I am aware, they will always be, always have been, your point?

“We need to make a safe space for the kids!” No we don’t? people need to follow the Terms of Service of a platform and honestly most people that reblog nsfw stuff even clearly state that minors should not interact.

“No like, YOU need to be on your best behavior bc there could be a minor anywhere!”

Since when did I become these minors parent? Since when did someone push these kids into my lap and say “your responsibility now”?

You need to understand that you can’t always just get upset at stuff EXISTING

nsfw fics are usually tagged and marked accordingly, most people that engage in a lot of nsfw stuff usually have “minors don’t interact” on their blog somewhere. Some even BLOCK people that follow them and are clear minors, that’s some DEDICATION.

But I have seen posts catering to FUCKING WRITERS saying “pls keep nsfw out of ur imagines and reader fics :)))) for the minors, otherwise I cant reblog it.” If you want to cater to your minor audience sure, but I can not stress enough how you can not tell others how to run their shit. Yes, you can suggest that to the imagine writers or writers in general but it is their right to say “no I run it like I want to” and proceed with their shit. And there is nothing you can do about it. Besides if minors really want some nsfw, trust me they WILL find it. Should we therefore police everyone and stuck them into horny jail? No.

“haha look at this lame ass adult getting upset they can’t be predatory anymore bc they are being called out on their pedophilia”

Idk how to tell you that it’s none of your fucking buisness what my personal history is and that you have no claim outside of “aging up is pedophilia” but sure go off, bc I am “upset I can not be predatory” anymore and not just outraged people are throwing around unreasonable claims.

Why would I even age up a character if pedophilia is about being into MINORS? Why would I age a character up if the WHOLE THING about pedophilia is that they are kids????

“Okay but then it’s predatory!” There is a point that depictions of an adult dating someione who is “barely legal” normalizes predatory behavior, but honestly, why is that MY responsibility? And who says I age them up to be barely legal? My social media/tumblr/ selfship experience is a very private thing. It’s a very personal thing, so why tf do I need to cater it to people who are NOT ME? When I do that it’s because I want to do it, not because I need to fill some moral obligations. (and yet I can say that YES caring about lgbt, other religious, non white selfshippers and boosting them is something generally people should do)

Like there is a thing about fiction. It doesn’t age like normal people. When I started to love one of my f/os we were the same age. The series eventually ended, it didn’t progress in real time, so I grew up while they stayed their age. And guess what! none of this backstory is any of your god damn buisness!! I don’t OWE it to you as much as writers and others don’t owe their trauma to you just so you can “give them permission” to deal with their trauma through selfshipping or writing. Who do you think you fucking are?

Fiction is not reality. And I am sick being stuck in medevial dark ages europe where people believed everything on a stage to be real life. Where actors were not allowed to exist and the people that did act and depicted a bad guy were generally shunned and hated by everyone bc they didn’t distinguish between fiction and reality.

Does fiction have an effect on reality? Yes. Jaws had repurcussions. Even the german novella “Die Leiden des jungen Werthers” had about a dozen suicides following the lead of the main character. 50 shades had an effect. 13 reasons why had an effect. But that doesn’t mean what you believe it means.

In the end I can not take the role of these minors parents to educate them and look after them. It shouldn’t be my job. And yes there are a lot of scummy adults on the internet. Like a LOT. But you need to understand that the internet will NEVER be a child safe place. And most adults take precautions already!

But fics aren’t for morality lessons. Fics aren’t for sex education. Fics aren’t there to be a fucking HOLY BOOK. Fics are just creative writing. And selfshippers are just there to have a bad time. And if they act out SURE call them out but otherwise just leave them tf alone?

“No no, what you write is what you actively endorse uvu”

Then say good bye to Horror and thriller. Say good by to books involving cheating. Say good bye to books in which anyone ever gets harmed. Say good bye to books ever even mentioning any problematic topic that isn’t 100% uwu pure

“Wait no that is different-”

How is it? Is it only problematic when you get off of it? Is that your argument? Are we going the christian route of condemning being sexually free and enjoying something that is legit a very important thing to a lot of people? (yes to asexuals their LACK of sexual attraction can also be a very important topic bc they have the right to express that without being condemed for not wanting to BONE or not being able to get horny by looking at bodies.)

Yes the over fetishization of certain topics is problematic, yes there is a lot of toxicity when it comes to porn and that shit, but kinks are just kinks.

“So you say pedophilia is just a kink!”

No. Pedophilia is aweful and no child should ever suffer through that sort of exploitation.

“But you say rape is just a kink!”

No. Real life rape is aweful and whoever rapes another human being deserves death full stop.

“You just said-”

YES! I know what I said! A lot of people hate real life stuff that they endorse in fiction. Some people are into pissing and shitting into each other! Some people are into hardcore bondage! And they all have their own histories, their own lifes and it’s their fucking thing? Do I want death on all rapists? Yes. Do I sometimes have questionable fantasies that might involve non con or dubious consent? Yes, so? Do I have my reasons for that? Yes, it’s none of your gd buisness?

It all always boils down to entitlement. Y’all need to understand that you can’t just run around demanding everyone to cater to your bullshit. You can not run around accusing people of pedophilia just because they would like to see themselves date a fictional character, but in their age.

If it makes you uncomfortable then don’t follow and interact with those people but you don’t need to pretend to have some moral high ground so you are the better person. You can just... have dislikes?

Even so, as I make this post I can not speak in broad terms because each case, each person is individual. Maybe some get off on shit and endorse it, how should I know? Maybe someone out there is fighting for not policing and censoring stuff because they actively want more pedo content, I don’t know, I am not the CIA or FBI?

It’s also none of my buisness. Is it aweful that these people exist? yeah. Are they prone to be on tumblr? probably? Are they that selfshipper that ages up their f/o so they can smooch? Unlikely.

People have their reasons. Their backstories, and none of that should have to be layed open just to get a strangers “okay” for shipping with the fictional character that makes them happy.

so uuuh before I leave

tldr: y’all full of shit and aging up is not pedophilia, you are just trying to give yourself some moral highground. you sound like a flatearther lol.

Gates closed, bitches

[hardforbenhardy]

somebody to love pt.2 | rogerxreader

warnings: fluff, sad vibes a lil, smallest tiniest inference of sex (blink and you’ll miss it)

word count: 4.1k

part 2 of somebody to love is here! it’s going a little slow, but i promise, we will get some roger/reader action next chapter!!

taglist: @jennyggggrrr

It is finally Monday, the day you've been dreading all weekend after the little... incident. Your minds been clouded with thoughts of what Roger may do, you could barely spend time with your Ma and Pa the whole of yesterday. Not to mention, they were kind of disappointed at the fact you didn't have the money to pay for their water bills. You’re pulled from your dreams by the blaring sound of your alarm from your bedside table, a groan releasing from your lips as you push yourself from the comfort of your silk sheets. You can hear Freddie's angelic voice soaring through the apartment as he sings along to the radio; it's like waking up to the melodic tunes of birds outside your window, but better. You quickly got dressed, knowing you don't have a lot of time before you need to be in school, and run down stairs to grab a snack from the kitchen. Freddie notices you, but instead of saying anything, he just gave you a huge grin and a thumbs up as a form of motivation. It's strange how Freddie is able to light up any room he is in, if only you had that ability, you may actually have friends. Not that you don't like your life already- sure it has its rather larger downsides, but you like spending time by yourself; it's calming, you don't have to rely on people and most importantly people don't have to rely on you. It's just, you’re fucking lonely. That's it basically. Everyone your age is in relationships, or sleeping around, or at least getting it on with someone in more than a friendship kind of way - and you’re just not. You wander through the university campus to class, which starts in 10 minutes, and you see couples cuddling and/or making out; large groups of friends laughing and having fun; the sport teams having a large football match on the field; the drama club sitting around to learn their scripts; even the music club playing their instruments to mildly entertain passers by such as you (which in fact, it is much more irritating than it is entertaining at 9 in the morning). Everyone seems so active and full of joy, and then there's you. You don't know why you’re so separated from everyone else, you've just always been like this. You remember on the first day of secondary school, you were sat alone the whole day; no one sat with you, spoke to you, no one even knew your name - you were known as "that weird girl" for the first 3 months of your education, until the teacher finally picked on you to present in class and you had to start by saying your name. You liked it then if you were being honest, you didn't have to reach anyone's expectations and you certainly weren’t a victim of peer pressure - but now it just makes you feel like a piece of shit. Sure, you have Freddie, but it's not exactly much is it. You just wish you had someone who would love you for you and actually want to spend time with you; is that so much to ask for?

As you entered the dry lab, you noticed that everyone was there but one person in particular. Roger. Fuck sake, where is he? You went to sit in your secluded seat, in the corner of the room, praying to God Roger wasn't in today at all and he had bunked off. Your racing thoughts were interrupted by Mrs. Smith raising her voice:

"Okay, class, instead of a test, we are doing a small practical today - it doesn't go towards anything, but it is important we understand the skills and can therefore apply it to any furt-" And with that, Roger burst through the door, panting and wheezing like he had just ran a mile. "Ah, Mister Taylor, late again are we? Look, if you want to get your degree, I suggest you buckle down and get here on time - this isn't an easy course and I'm not going to teach you if this is how you treat it"

"Sorry, my um, my car broke down and I had to run to school" Roger heaved, placing both his hands on his knees as he faced the ground and took in long hard breaths. Droplets of sweat glided down his forehead as he attempted to catch his breath, and you couldn't help but admire the way it framed his face; his hair still scraggly from sleep, and his clothes slightly torn from what you presumed was multiple trips when running. He looked strangely sexy. Fuck. Why were you thinking like this? But it's true... his voice was raspy and choked, from the running - but you can only imagine that's what he always sounds like when he's exhausted. When else might he be exhausted? God, you could only imagine his voice whispering into my ears after a long, hard -

"Do you mind love?" - you were pulled from your daydream, looking up to see him stood there, staring at the empty seat beside you. Your heart began to beat at an irregular pace. Why is he talking to you? Why is he sitting next to you? Did he just call you love? Does he recognise you? Is this some kind of sick joke to him? "Oh- uh, n-no" you stuttered, struggling to even form a simple sentence after your overwhelming wave of emotions which had just washed over you. He threw his briefcase on the floor beside him; pulling out his folder, which was half the size of yours, making you wonder whether Roger actually takes notes in this class or rather it's all just stored in that incredible brain of his. God he is so smart. And sometimes, like today, he has to wear his glasses in class if he forgets his sunglasses, which perfectly frame his face; they make him look so fucking sexy. OMG what the fuck is going on with you?! "Uh- uhm, why are you sitting next to me?" you barely choked out, trying to take your mind off the whole... Roger's incredibly overwhelming persona.

"Prof said we are partnered for this practical, love" He explained, tone still deep and stifled although his breathing has began to go back to normal. You could sense an awkward tension between the two of you the moment he sat down; you knew this was a bad idea and you knew you should've just bunked off. As he began to prepare the equipment for the practical, you couldn't help but stare at his face; his eyes clouded over as he bites his bottom lip from utter concentration. "See something you like?"

He lifted his head, smirking in your direction after you snap out of my trance; you had been staring at him while chewing on the end of your pen. "Oh- uhh, sorry. Sorry. Nice glasses" you panicked, swiftly turning your head in the other direction, until you heard a chuckle and a small 'thanks' come from beside you- which you were instantly able to recognise as Rogers, considering he was the only person who has sat next to you in the past few months on this course. The suspense in the atmosphere only got heightened with every second going past, and you couldn't bare to sit here anymore. "Look, I know you saw me on Saturday. I don't know if you've sat here to tease me or take the piss or whatever but I'm not in the fucking mood- I'm surviving off 3 hours sleep and 5 coffees so if you're not even going to talk to me about what you saw, then you can piss off"

Roger doesn't say anything to respond, and instead just looked at you with a semblance of speechlessness, as if he's trying to conjure up a sentence in which he won't offend or make things more awkward than they already are - failing of course as he eventually comes out with "Y-you have nice moves". You felt your cheeks immediately blush, getting redder and redder; although his words sent chills down your spine, you couldn't let it show.

"What the fuck Roger!" you exclaimed, slapping his arm harder than you originally intended, as he acknowledged it with a sharp 'ow' and quickly reached to rub the now-red area as a way of soothing it. "Sorry . But seriously, you can't tell anyone. Please. If you do, my life will be fucking ruined and I plan on actually doing something with it and if people fin-"

"Y/N, I'm not going to tell anyone." He quickly retorted, making your head turn to face him as a sudden feeling of shock ran through you. Why wouldn't he tell people? "R-really?!" you spluttered, the words barely reaching the surrounding.

"Why would I tell people?"

"Erm, because it's not exactly a thing I should be proud of and you could ruin my life with it and that's kind of what you popular kids do, not to mention you probably think I'm a slut or something because of it" you mumbled, shying away from making any form of eye contact with him. Mainly because the atmosphere is getting increasingly more awkward by the second, but also because you can't deny; you could stare into his eyes all day and I'm afraid if you start you may not be able to stop.

"I'm not that much of a dickhead, love. I don't know why you have... that job, but I'm not going to go around spreading your personal shit."

"Right, sorry. Thank you." you let a fake smile grow on your face, and once noticing him return a wide grin - it became a real one. There was a small moment of silence before you asked one question that had undoubtedly been on my mind all weekend; "W-what were you actually doing there? There are never any lads younger than 30 in that place"

"Oh, erm, I was meant to meet a girl there"

"For a date? You were going to take a girl on a date to a strip club" you emphasised, trying your hardest not to laugh loudly at the idiocy of the Rogers idea of a good date.

"Yeah. But I didn't know it was a strip club - she was the one who gave me the address and told me to meet her there. But she never showed." He explained, with a small sadness to his tone. You felt a pang of guilt and empathy wash over you as he spoke, understand completely how it feels to be stood up; it has happened on multiple occasions and you've basically accepted it's your destiny to be alone by now. "Oh, I'm sorry. She sounds like a bitch"

"She kind of was - I only agreed to the date because she was a good shag" Roger muttered under his breath, most likely hoping you didn't hear him; but you did. You almost choked at his statement, but really you just feel a little shit. You know, of course, Roger is what some might call a 'ladies man'; but the idea of him sleeping around isn't something you keep on your mind because you let it get to you. You say you'd like to be one of those girls, but honestly, you don't just want to be a one time shag that Roger has before moving onto the next. Which is exactly the reason you had originally attempted to push all the feelings you had for Roger deep, deep down - but of course they can't stay down for long, because as soon as Roger walked in the room, you had fallen all over again. And before you knew it, it was the end of the session. Which meant you'd now have to go to the library for the next 4 hours, sitting by yourself and reading over your notes for the hundredth time, pretending like you didn't just want to scrap all your work and quit. As you began to pack my stuff away, you heard Roger cough beside me - in the kind of way that says he's asking for your attention. "Hey, Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"Erm, I'm performing at Imperial tonight, would you maybe want to come along? I understand if you're busy or something, I mean you are always studying, not that that's a bad thing but I understand if you can't come, I just thought you could do with some fun and I think you're a really nice girl and I wanted to hang out some more you know- but like I said, you don't have to come, you're probably super busy so" Roger muttered, looking to the floor whilst twiddling his thumbs; nerves prominent in his tone. A wide grin grew on your face as he spoke; he wanted to hang out.

"I'd love to - like you said, I could do with a night out that doesn't involve biology in any form." you smiled, as Rogers head shoots up and he gives you a smile that just seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushed through you. He threw his bag over his shoulder, before heading out; you following shortly after. "So, what do you mean by performing?"

"Oh, well I'm in a band with some of my mates, it's nothing much. We play every Sunday and Monday night." He explained, hands in his jean pockets as he walked me home. Slightly stunned by his admission, you looked up at him before asking "What do you play then?"

"Oh, I'm the drummer"

And with that, you were frozen in your place as you stood in shock at the new revelation. Roger Taylor was a drummer? Your eyes widened and your mouth fell ajar at the unfamiliar thought, your mind trying to comprehend such information. Not only is Roger Taylor smoking hot, super kind (well, he seemed) AND incredibly intelligent - but he also plays the drums? Just when you thought he possibly couldn't get any more attractive, he goes and pulls this out of the bag. Roger notices your sudden halting, and turns to look at you with a confused face; "Hey, you okay? You need help?" He cautioned, the worry prominent in his tone, snapping you out of the trance you were in.

"What? Oh, yeah, sorry, just got lost in my thoughts" you chuckled, looking towards the ground as embarrassment grew on your cheeks, pacing forward to catch up with Roger who was at least 5 steps in front of you. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"Huh?" you questioned, furrowing your brows as your head shot up to face. If he was now going to make you come up with a fake thought in less than five seconds, you think you may just freak out, because there is no way you can explain to him that you fancy him and therefore was dreaming about the absolute charmer he was. "Penny for your thoughts - what you thinking about?"

Fuck.

"What are we, 5 years old?" you giggled, putting a sharp facade of humour when you knew deep down your brain was racking for something, anything that may sound at least an inch better than 'I think I may love you'.

"Come on, I can tell something's bothering you. You can trust me you know - I thought I'd have proven that by now"

"I just... why are you talking to me?" you sputter out, it being the first thing to come to your head.

"What on earth do you mean?"

"I mean, why are you even associating yourself with me - I'm the weird loner who sits in the back of class, who no one talks to, or even looks at, who has one friend and has a job as a stripper. I'm not stupid Roger, I know people don't want to associate themselves with the 'quiet' girl, so why are you?" you ranted, finally releasing a long breath after venting, feeling tears pricked your eyes as you realised you were now facing your actual reality. Why was Roger suddenly trying to be your friend? "I mean, was this some kind of dare? Or have you decided you want to add me to your list of sexual escapades because don't think I haven't noticed you've only started talking to me after seeing me strip. Or do you just want to cheat your way through the course, hoping I'll end up doing your work for you?"

You stopped after hearing a small chuckle from beside you, and looked to see Rogers face sporting a little grin, clearly amused by you. "Do you know what, just fuck off. Forget about tonight, I'm leaving" you raged, beginning to storm away as anger boiled inside you at Rogers apparent sense of humour, or lack thereof. He seriously found this funny, whilst you stood here, opening up feelings you would never usually share to anyone apart from Freddie. You tended to struggle opening up about your emotions to people, unless you have a decent amount of wine in my system to flush away the shame that is. Instead, you keep them buried deep down, and you know they're bound to erupt one day- you have a slight feeling today might just be the day. You were halted in your motion as the tight grasp of a hand clutched onto your wrist, causing you to stumble back. "No, wait, Y/N m'sorry! I wasn't laughing at you, I promise."

His apologetic tone rang in your ears, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks once again as you realised how pathetic you were actually being. "The fuck were you laughing at then, 'cause I don't see any fucking clowns wandering 'round here"

"I-I, I wasn't laughing at you! I just, well, I don't really have a reason- why do I need a reason? You are super cool and you seem nice, I just wanted to get to know you."

"You still didn't answer my question." you grumbled, pouting your lips out as you dropped your head to face the floor; your cheeks beginning to redden at the idea that Roger just wanted to get to know you. No one ever just wanted to get to know you; there was always a reason. They would use you to up their grade a little; they would feel sorry for you because you’re a fucking loner; they would attempt to be friendly in hopes of getting you into their bed for the night. That was admittedly the worst one, considering it was the most common. You have never had a true friend, let alone boyfriend, so you can certainly count on yourself to be the biggest virgin gracing this earth. You'd think having a job which was in that kind of area, you’d be basically the opposite; but you agreed with yourself when you started the job that if there was one thing you would never ever turn to, it'd be sleeping with the men in the club. Not only were they almost twice my age, but they weren't exactly the most graceful, gentlemanly men you'll ever meet. Not that Roger was any more chivalrous, from what you'd heard, but at least you were the same age and you actually know him. Though you may be completely conflicting personalities; you being a quiet, reserved, and overall anxious character and Roger being one of loud, adventurous, energetic tendencies; they say opposites attract... right?

"Okay, well, maybe I was laughing at you - but not in a bad way. I was just thinking, you are kind of cute when you are angry y'know" Roger confessed, trying to come off as if he was confident and almost flirty in his words, but you swear you saw his teeth grind from nerves as he spoke.You began to feel your cheeks flush at his simplistically adorable words. "I swear to god, Roger Taylor, if you are trying to flirt with me - I will walk away right now" you giggled, poking his chest a little harder than you expected, gaining a laugh from Roger too. As the laughter died down, you realised you had reached yours and Freddie's flat already, and you still had hours to kill until tonight.

"Erm, this is my block" you muttered, pointing to the entrance of the block of flats you were slowly approaching.

"I know - we live in the same block." He chuckled, opening the door and standing against it, his arm gesturing you to walk through. Maybe he was a gentleman? "Thank you. How come I never see you around the block?"

"I don't know - I've seen you around a few times, usually when you are going out in the evening; presumably to work. I mean, you are always in the library"

"I guess." you chuckled, beginning to walk up the steps to the third floor, where your flat resided. Roger followed swiftly behind, attempting to catch up with you. There was silence as you walked up the stairs; but it wasn't the uncomfortable kind of silence. It was more the kind where you just enjoy each others company in the moment. The better kind. Once you had reached your apartment door, Roger stopped, almost as if he knew where it was without even asking. You didn't bother to question how he knew which flat you lived in, and instead just began unlocking the door.

"I'll, erm, I guess I'll see you tonight? Meet me backstage once we finished our set?" He asked, leaning on his side against the entrance banister. You looked up, but continued turning the key in the lock with movement memory, swiftly taking the key out the lock and opening the door to walk through. "Yeah, of course. You don't mind if I bring Freddie with me do you? He loves a night out"

"Fred's your roommate right? Yeah, sure" He nodded, twiddling his thumbs together. You swear you heard him sigh and possibly roll his eyes at your suggestion, but you gave him a quick smile, as if to say 'see you tonight' before closing the door behind yourself and releasing a loud sigh. As soon as you had locked it, you slid down the wooden door letting out a muffled scream into the bundled coat now in your lap. You could hear Freddie's steps approaching you from the living room, quick paced with urgency. "You alright, darling?"

"Fucking amazing Fred" You grinned, the pace of your heart gradually decreasing again after its irregular habits when you were with Roger.

"I suspect it has something to do with the fact that I heard the one and only Roger Taylor's voice as you walked in the door?" He chuckled, finding your lustful infatuation merely a piece of comedy for his entertainment. "So where is it you are taking me for a night out then?"

"Roger invited me out to the Imperial, he's performing with his band - He plays the drums, Fred. I thought he was already an angel but then he reveals he's a fucking drummer too. Fred, I think I may just suffer a heart attack if I spend even one more second around him."

"So Roger invited you out? And you asked if I could come along? I think your brain has finally fizzled out, love. Are you completely insane?"

"I don't want to die. And I'm sure it'll happen if I have to spend any more time with him alone." you sighed, your heart beating out your chest at the mere thought of spending time with Roger by yourselves. God, how am you meant to cope in a relationship with him when you can barely even hold a conversation. "I said I'd meet him backstage after their set, so we should leave around 8? What should I wear? I don't own any nice clothes Fred! All my clothes are baggy jumpers and joggers - ugh Fred take me shopping!"

"You know I can't turn down a shopping spree darling, grab your shoes and coat!" Freddie exclaimed, making you chuckle under your breath at his extravagance. He held out his hand, which you hesitantly took into line, and yanked you up from your previously comfortable position you found for yourself on the floor. You pulled on your boots and coat, wrapping your scarf around your neck to accommodate for the autumn weather outside. Fred told you of a store just a 10 minute walk from the flat, which was his favourite shop to buy clothes in; Biba. He had never really mentioned the store until a few days back, after going to a small gig by himself. You just remember him coming home relatively sober and with a look of infatuation growing on his face and in his eyes. He never really talks about what happened that night - you just presumed he'd maybe had a good hookup.

[boogiewrites]

Choking On Sapphires 89

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Title & Song: Bad Company

Summary: Genevieve begins standing up for herself and others with her new found sense of self. Alfie sits back and enjoys the show. 

Warnings/Tags: Language. References to assault and violence.Verbal fighting. 

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

Alfie and Genevieve were working again, and more importantly, working as one cohesive unit. Still light with his affections, trying to appreciate the subtle physical affection between them that was backed with a more mature and solid love behind it nowadays.

 They focused on tone and respect, checking in on each other and being understanding of the others space and feelings. Gen found herself enjoying her time with Alfie more now that she was spending less with him. She had time to paint and think again, two things she had sorely needed more of in her life to get herself straight again. She was figuring out who this new woman was, and how she fell into place with Alfie and who he was at this juncture. It led to more confidence, better communication and a deeper intimacy outside of sex for them. Which at Alfie's age his back and hips truly appreciated. 

They talked with tea and biscuits before bed every night. A rundown of the day and the questions and concerns it brought them putting it all away with the China when no more could be done for it. In turn the lack of talking led to more tenderness, small kisses and strokes as they wound down together, Genevieve letting her guard down only for him most days now. It let her feel cared for and safe as he’d wrap her up and hold her close as she fell asleep and it gave him the protective and providing feelings he needed as a man. They were evening each other out, finding their new roles within the relationship and the pieces were beginning to fall into place. 

———

With a pin-straight posture and the newest in women's business wear from Paris, a treat to herself for her recent successes, Genevieve sits perched on a wooden chair that must be as old as the school building itself for how uncomfortable it was. She sits across the long banquet table in the great hall from a man who could also be considered dated and out of fashion, the same as his surroundings. There was only one other woman in the group for instructors and heads of the art department, and she taught dance. She was older but fit and always wore her hair in a tight bun that did her frail and gaunt face no favors. Her attitude also didn’t help her seem any more approachable but that seemed to be common among the ballet type. They were all tight strung and old fashioned, strict and elitist, the same could be said for everyone else on the board except Genevieve. She was the youngest by around two decades and the only with a tailor that wasn’t an octogenarian. 

“Everyone who votes for Beatrice Langston, a show of hands.” The head says as his slumped posture from being bent over a desk his whole academic life, makes him look like he struggles to lift his head to see a show of hands. Everyone but Genevieve.

“Really?” Genevieve asks with direct eye contact with each person after the count was finished. 

“I’m sorry Miss Durand but majority rules.”

“You are all going to sit there and tell me with a straight face that Beatrice is better suited for the scholarship than Hazel?” No one speaks and avoids her aggressive gaze. “Beatrice is rudimentary at best. She lacks the understanding of color theory and her depth of field is just...well it’s lacking. To put it politely.” Gen speaks with an animated tone and body as she moves paintings around on the table. “Look at these Hazel has done! Brilliant use of color and saturation, everything is scaled to perfection and her abstract art evokes emotion and shows a much deeper grasp of the poetry and psychology of color and space!” Gen raises her voice and holds up a painting with both her hands, shoving it in the others faces from where she sat. “Beatrice hasn’t even DONE an abstract piece!” She tosses the paper and sorts back loudly in her chair as it scoots.

“The vote is final Moss Durand, I’m sorry you-“

“No, you’re not!” She scoffs and his eyes go wide. “I know why you’re all voting for her and you should all be ashamed. You should have your educator privileges revoked because you don’t give a damn about these children and nurturing them.” She speaks from the heart, fully upset and letting it show. 

“Miss Durand that is quiet enough.”

“So you’re going to tell me you’re voting for Langston because of her skill and NOT because of who her father is?” She crossed her arms and leans toward the annoyed-looking man.

He says nothing in reply. “Our vote is-“ 

“Yes final!” She throws up her hands and rolls her eyes. “I am so completely disappointed in every single one of you for not voting for talent over a name. Hazel could use this scholarship, Langston has money! And no talent.” She shakes her head. “All because of who her father is! Ridiculous!” Genieve huffs. 

“Like you’ve never benefited from who your father is.” One is the men say with a cold side-eye that they would soon regret.

“Excuse me, Garrett?” She stands slowly and others sink back into their chairs.

“Miss Durand pl-“

“NO!” She shakes her head and begins speaking with her hands to the head. “No, I will not sit here and be spoken to in such a way.” She trots right across from the formerly brave academic and scolds him like a child with a pointed finger. “You don’t know a damn thing about me you glorified bookend! I lost my connection to my father and his name at seventeen! Everything I have has my blood sweat and tears in it! I have worked My arse off for my successes and you, nay, no one will say otherwise because it would be a lie.” She hisses and shouts. “A girl should get this scholarship on hard work and talent, not a name! Just because you’ve never worked for anything doesn’t mean others aren’t deserving! We can’t all be born with rich fathers and cocks and just waltz into whatever sort of life we want! Some of us have to work for it! And since all you’ve done is make theories and sit on your fat arse and read your whole life you can’t relate! Doesn’t make it not true!” She shouts and throws her arms in the air.

“MISS DURAND! That is enough!”

“And YOU! You ancient fuck. You can piss off. The lot of you! You only represent the past and have no interest in catching up with the rest of the world on modernity. I don’t want any part of a board or school who doesn’t give a fuck about its students. I love art and I want to help those that love it as well.” She speaks and moves to gather her things as she keeps scolding. “And as a woman who knows the rampant sexism and abuse of power in academia, you should be ASHAMED!” She points at the other woman in her group. “I’d like to let you all in on a little advice before I part. Garret your beard makes you look like a pedophile. Quinne, your hair pulled back like that makes you look like a shaved fanny. Richard, you always smell like bloody mothballs and Turner, your cologne smells like horse piss. And you Gerald.” She scowls at the head. “ Everyone knows your poor dumb secretary sucks you off in your office. You’re a lousy liar and make noises like a dying cow when you ejaculate. You aren’t fooling anyone.” She sasss. “You’re a sorry lot and I’m sorry that these students have heartless twats for professors!” She begins to trot off, her heels clicking over the old stone floors in a hurry in her anger. 

The look on her face gives away her anger before she’s even in the car to meet Claire.

“That didn’t take long.”

“I left early.” She spits out and sits and seethes.

“May I ask why?”

“I quit.” She says finally looking to Claire sat next to her.

“You bloody what?” Her voice breaks.

“They wanted to give the scholarship to a girl

Based on who her father was. Not on talent because the simple thing couldn't evoke emotion with art if her life depended on it. They just want bloody money from her family!”

“So you quit?”

“Yes. I don’t want any part of that crock of shit.”

Claire opens her mouth and then closes it. There was a paycheck lost but truly not much else. Genevieve could just paint to sell and easily make up the difference. She could set up anyway and teach just for the love of it, so Claire simply nods. 

———

“She’s in a right mood.” Claire warms Alfie, setting the table for tea as he trumps into the house. 

“Why?” He demands in his usual confident way.

“She quit the teaching work today.”

“Fuckin wot? But she loves it!”

“She loves it and that’s why she quit.” Claire shrugs.

“Is no one makin' no fuckin' sense in this madhouse?” Alfie barks.

“What are you shouting about?” Genevieve comes around the corner with her little glasses on that matches Alfies and a stack of papers in her arms.

“What’s this bout you quittin?”

“Come sit and I’ll explain.” She nods and puts her hand to his back. Her calmer approach caught him off guard. He was expecting a loose canon from Claire’s warning but he only saw a very present woman in her eyes and appearance.

“Ya fuckin better.” He says loudly as he sits and she ignores his needless pompous nature.

“Aggie before our meal, some chamomile perhaps?”

“Lovely idea dear.” Aggie praises and Gen sits next to Alfie in their little corner of the table. Her in her large decorative, plush velvet chair at the head. 

“I quit the board and the teaching job today.”

“Yeah, I got that much.”

“Do you want to keep interrupting me to hear the sound of your own voice or do you want me to explain?” She asks with a tilted head and removing her glasses.

His chin sinks into his neck in surprise at her quick wit and he gestures for her to continue without a word. 

“Thank you.” She says with a large nod. “The scholarship vote was today and in short they chose name over talent. A girl who’s father has political connections was chosen over an immensely talented girl. For the money I’m guessing. I tried to convince them and they would not listen. I expressed my disappointment in their decision and one of the men thought it wise to make a remark about me. I-“

“Who fuckin said wot love, I’ll get the bastard.” Alfie swoops in protectively, still touchy about people smart mouthing Gen with the ongoing fight over gossip.

“That’s very nice of you, Cheri but not needed. I set him straight with words. Much less mess.” She pats Alfie's arm and despite his hard brow of anger for someone having the balls to speak poorly towards her, he couldn’t help but admire the unbothered face she held. “I don’t want to be a part of an organization that runs in such an unfair and uncaring way.”

“I never liked those wankers. Always acted betta than me.”

“And you are smarter than any of them could ever aspire to be, I assure you.” She praises and begins laying her papers into piles. 

“Fuckin right I am.” He grumbles in agreement but feels the compliment make his chest warm. “You seem to be takin' it well.” He remarks, seeing her put her glasses back on.

“I was well miffed at first. But turns out Spite is an excellent motivator.” She says with an amused smile.

“That it is.” He nods. “And what is it motivatin'?”

“I am going to start my own scholarship.”

“Oh! Lovely idea that.” He nods approvingly. “Total control or no control I always say.”

“You do say that.” She remarks, thumbing through a stack.

“Where exactly ya gonna get the money for such a thing?” He flatly asks. “Ya kinda lost a source of income there dinnit ya?”

“I did but I can manage. I did it because I loved it, not the money.” She shakes her head. “I plan on selling some pieces, then gathering funds from the community in support. I’m going to make it one, especially for Jewish girls. I plan to give Hazel the first.”

“Hazel?”

“The girl that should have gotten the scholarship to begin with. Sweet and inwardly little girl. Bright as the sun and so much promise.”

“And Jewish?”

“And Jewish.” She nods.

“Well, that’s lovey then, yeah?”

“I certainly hope so.” Gen glances over to him. “Lots of paperwork involved in such a thing of course. I’ll have to go by the lawyers later in the week to set it all up. But I’m the meantime I can sell and do private lessons for a price. Perhaps portraits? Be far less time consuming for me anyway.”

“And make a hell of a lot more money.”

“Yes. That as well.” She huffs out a laugh and nods. 

“Where ya gon sell at?”

“Nothing in mind yet. Places. Pieces I do have a few landscapes that are easy sales I believe. Once I had all the legal pieces in place I Was moving onto that next step.”

“How’s about me club?” 

Gen stops and looks up at him. “Really?” She says with narrowed eyes of disbelief.

“Sure. Can be a little coming out party for ya. Invite all those posh cunts and take their money.” He grins.

“You’ll have to come up with a new name for them if we’re going to be asking for money.” She smirks. 

“Eh.” He shrugs. “I just won’t say it to no one's face.” He promises and they share a mutual smile of hopefulness for both endeavors.

——————

His club would be full of what half his usual clientele was on this particular evening. The usual ruffage replaced with the wealthy that Genevieve had invited not only to get money from but to put any rumors to bed about how she might be now since the whispered about incident. It was easy enough to show she wasn’t pregnant, especially in the tight dress she’d chosen. Which was purposeful. 

“I can’t help but feel a bit fat in this.” She mutters, smoothing over her well-rounded hips where she was now carrying most of her weight gain. 

“You’ve gained weight but you look healthy again.” Claire insists. “Which is what you want. You look well fed and cared for. No signs of weakness or poverty.” 

“That’s all well good but what happens when I slap some twat for calling me a cow.” She snaps back.

“Ya first have to get over me slappin’ ya for sayin’ such a thing bout yaself.” Alfie says loudly as he enters the room in his usual dark suit. 

“But I have gained weight.” She insists on her correctness.

“Yes and what of it? Who the fuck cares? Not me. You shouldn’t. Ya look lovely. Gorgeous. Green like money and soft like royalty.” He declares with his hands on her bare arms.

“But I have-“

“Shut your perfect painted mouth love.” He shakes his head and tsks her. “I won’t have you speakin' of yaself in such a way. Not with me round to hear it and not when I’m away, yeah? You are a dream in the flesh, Genny. Always have been, always will be.” He kisses her blushed cheek. 

“Yes, Alfie.” She sighs. 

“I know ya can lie betta than at!” He grins and puts his arms around her in the emerald dress. “You are confident. You are in control.” He says with a squeeze to her. “Now you.” He nods his head forward. 

“I am confident. I am in control.” She tries to put forth some faith in her voice. 

“You will get the money you need tonight and you will charm the pants off everyone.” Claire adds supportively.

“Thanks.” Gen says with her hands resting on Alfies around her. “Last time I tried this it went miserably and I believe it’s getting the best of me.”

“You are a different woman now.” Alfie declares proudly. “I have total faith in you. As should you.” He kisses her cheek and gives her bum a light pat before pulling away. “And you do look stunnin’ love. You know I’d tell ya if I thought otherwise.”

“And I don’t know yet if that’s a blessing or a curse.” She smirks.

“There She is, right?” He laughs and pinches her cheek, smiling proudly.

——

Genevieve did muster up the hutzpah she needed before exiting the car with Alfie opening the door for her. A gentlemanly hand out and waiting patiently as he heard her measured breathing to set herself. When she emerged, she was a fully evolved woman of means who didn’t give a damn about anyone she didn’t deem worthy. 

He loved watching her now, not like he hadn’t before but now in public there was a hardness that wasn’t there before. Even though she was looking for money from these people, she wasn’t kissing any arse. She stone-faced bad, sexist jokes and when turned to see what was wrong with her, Alfie would give them no reaction as well. Solidarity and that. She didn’t clutch her chest and bend and laugh like an angel for them, she spoke clearly and in an informed way like the well-educated businesswoman she was. She wasn’t boozy and lusty and playing up her chest or hair. She wore it pulled back with a lovely bejeweled comb, her dress perfectly tailored and her jewels classic and expensive. She only

wore kitten heels, concealed under the long hem of her gown instead of her usual height giving ones since the healing had left her back a bit worse for wear. But she didn’t look any less put together for it. Alfie rather liked the shorter stature for her as he got to put his arm around her easily and whisper how proud he was of her for not giving in to their expectations of her. Everything was going swimmingly, money being signed over, appointments for teaching sessions filling up on the list. But a woman, for whatever her reasons were, decided to make a spectacle of herself. And Genevieve was happy to oblige her.

“Yes I’m doing very well.” Genevieve nods and gives a polite tone. “The new contracts with Fortnum and Mason as well as a large yield

This season for both honey and fruit. Soon I’ll be adding my hat to the gin game with my high-grade juniper.”

“I heard you got fired from the school.” The wife of the man who was being a gentleman and speaking to both Gen and Alfie equally chirps into the conversation. “So with that monetary loss

You can’t be doing as well.” 

Genevieve narrows her eyes at her but keeps her cool. “I stepped down from the board and quit my teaching position. I was not fired. I didn’t believe in how they were running the school. Since I worked there out of love for the arts and the students, not the money, that is why I am starting my own scholarship and offering lessons. Which is why you are here tonight.” She clarifies.

“Gen has been very hands-on with the building of it, suited the work helps fund that of others. She’ll be having her bat mitzvah soon and with these new business endeavors I could not be more proud.” Alfie adds to help cut the tension

“Thank you darling.”

“Well good thing everything has lined up so well for you both now, yes?” The man gives a polite smile. 

“It is a blessing, surely.” Gen nods graciously. 

“Especially after all that….” the man shakes her head. “All the bad sort of things that transpired for you. Well good that you have recovered so well!”

“Yes, a product of hard work I assure you.”

“Hard work will get you whatever you desire,

I always say.” 

What a capitalist, Gen muses. 

“Rather, suspicious though isn’t it?” The wife turns as if she’s only speaking to her husband.

“Uh...what is dear?”

“Or rather ... convenient that all this happens around this time? right after your supposed incident..”

“Supposed?” Genevieve’s voice shows bite and the man is clearly made uncomfortable by it. 

“Yes if it was so bad you don’t seem to be bothered now.”

“I am a businesswoman. I try not to mix personal and professional.” Alfie could see Gen's eyes dilate and change. He watched her closely with great interest.

“I’d heard no one saw you for months and then you pop back up just fine. Seems like if all that happened like I’ve heard you’d still be at home. Not out working. Like a man.” She shoots her eyes at Alfie who gives her a quirked brow and a snort at the audacity to come after his masculinity. 

“Besides taking care of her when she was first home, my business wasn’t affected.” Alfie speaks in a cold and calculated way. 

“I’m sure it wasn’t.” She looks Alfie up and down. “But funny how this all cleared right up when it was time for you to ask for money. Yes? When you would require others kindness?” The hairs on the back of Genevieve’s neck stand up as he watches her brow lower and her eyes go black. “People in your sort of...business…” she drags out and looks to Alfie for a moment with clear disapproval on her face. “Are known to, shall we say, over-exaggerate the truth? And as I said, awfully coincidental on the timing when you needed people to feel sorry for you.” 

Genevieve moves so fast Alfie doesn’t have time to do much but scoff out a laugh after she has the woman by her neck and against a wall.

Genevieve sinks her nails into the unmarked skin of the woman’s weak throat. Her hand squeezing as she holds her up as sputters, eyes wide showing she didn’t expect to get what was coming her way. 

Gen leans in close, nose to the woman’s cheek and ghosts over her skin and ears as speaks low and slow so only she can hear. The rest of the room falls silent and turns to watch the altercation, disgustingly interested to see if the rumors of Genevieve's ruthlessness were true. 

“The things I went through would’ve killed an ordinary man.” She hisses and the woman kicks her feet. “You would’ve died one day in.” She growls. “If you lasted that long.” She spits venomously. “I owe you nothing. But I will tell you the horrors and trials I have gone through are something that will haunt me for the rest of my life. Torture. Rape. Mental and emotional manipulation. I’ve moved past all of it. My body and mind have healed so I can make a better life for myself. Cunts like you make it so I Have to push forward, be better, be more and prove myself time and time again to make it in this world. You prove nothing with your accusations. Only that you are a weak, soft submissive lemming, a pathetic excuse for a woman for those of us who have known true oppression. A judgemental miserable old hag with nothing better to do than talk about others because you have nothing of any substance to say. You are nothing. You aren’t worth my time. I am only using you as an example. Because I know others think like you. And I will continue to be better than you. To thrive despite your disapproval. To be happy and fulfilled in ways you could never imagine.” She lets go of her throat, her feet full on the floor again as she gasps and holds her neck. “That is my revenge. A life more fruitful and whole than your small mind could ever hope for. And if you ever think to even insinuate that I am a liar again. I will not use just my words against you, you rotted gash.” Genevieve stands like a snake watching its venom take down its prey slowly. 

The woman does not respond. The blood under Gen's nails and the energy around her speak enough. 

The husband looks to Alfie while this all happens, who only shrugs and watches with fully entertained eyes. This old horse got what was coming to her as far as he was concerned. He was only disappointed Genevieve didn’t slap her at the first insult. But this was well worth the wait. 

“If anyone else has any remarks about my abduction and the events around it I suggest you keep them to your fucking self. No self-respecting person would ask someone about such a horrible thing. And they won’t if they want to keep their tongues in their mouths.” She stands tall, proud and strong in the face of all eyes gazing upon her. She speaks from the gut, and only truthfully. She held no question as to who she was in that moment as she boldly met the eyes that stared at her with mixtures of fear and interest. 

Alfie stood as tall and proud as she, solidarity with his love. He gave her an approving nod when she met his eyes across the room. The deep rich brown so black when she tapped into that killer instinct now. This was a power move, strength and control. The restraint but an expression of her feelings showing growth beyond what he could’ve hoped for her. She was truly one of his own now. His warrior queen, his panther wife and hopefully the fearless and just mother to his children one day. He was overtaken with emotion, his heart hard thumping in his chest as she moved back towards him in the crowd like a snake in her green dress. She was brilliant, everything he needed in a companion. She wasn’t taking shit from anyone now, for any reason. Gone through hell and lived, came out the other side stronger and smarter and more ruthless. Same as him. She was a gangster now. Worthy to carry the Solomons’ name. He couldn’t wait to make her his own. 

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