#i must know how they'd compare to my long thin ones

[dudeshusband]

forever thinking about how thick his hands are

[cassiebones]

Agathario hot drink/baking fic perhaps? My heart is weak and damaged and only fluff fics can fix it

Agatha couldn't cook for shit.

She didn't typically need to cook, really. Stealing the power of other witches over the centuries had provided her with enough sustenance to keep her satisfied, alive.

But she still liked to bake. She was pretty good at baking, actually. She was a true witch, able to follow the steps to a recipe on the back of a box until she concocted something delicious.

Like brownies or cookies. Or a whole cake.

And she could decorate that cake. With magic!

Which is what she did for Rio's birthday. Or, well, what they considered her birthday. She had been alive for as long as humans had, before the modern Gregorian calendars were put into use and, until the mid-1690's, she hadn't even considered a use for a birthday.

Until Agatha.

Agatha, whose birthday was July 7, 1675, the night of a blood moon. Her mother had never celebrated her birthday as enthusiastically as the other coven mothers celebrated their own daughters' birthdays, but she put up a good front, crafting a cake and singing a traditional witches' song on the day of her birth, though Evanora sang less joyfully than the others. Agatha was always in attendance at the birthday celebrations of other young witches, watching with envy as their mothers showered them with praise, good wishes, and gifts. Agatha's gifts were always practical, like a new dress or re-soled shoes, or a hairbrush. But the other girls received heirloom jewelry to mark the occasions. Or new journals and spellbooks.

Evanora did her best to keep Agatha away from magic at all costs, even hindering her powers.

Agatha didn't care about the trinkets, though. She liked the cake. Her mother rarely made anything sweet in their home, but she always made the best cakes for birthdays, trying desperately to show off for her friends. Agatha had watched her for years, learning how to follow the steps for a delicious cake, writing them down in her own journal. One day, she decided, she would make her own birthday cake. She wouldn't need her mother anymore.

And, one day, she did just that.

But for Rio.

It was two years after they'd met. Two years since they'd fallen in love. Two years since Agatha's entire coven died trying to kill her. Two years since they'd left Salem behind and found their own abandoned cottage in the middle of a secluded wood. Two years since they began sharing a bed, since Agatha felt true affection for the first time in her life.

"When is your birthday?" Agatha had asked, her cheek resting on Rio's chest, now covered by a thin sheet.

"You know I don't have one," Rio laughed, running her hand through her lover's hair. "I am ageless."

"I know, but there must be some way to mark the start of a new year in your life--er, existence."

Rio cackled. "I've never needed one," she said. "Though, perhaps now, it would be the day that I met you." She cupped Agatha's cheek, running her thumb over the ridge of bone. "I never really felt alive before that. I don't think I actually was."

"You must say that to all the young maidens you bed," Agatha teased, pressing a kiss to Rio's collarbone. Rio leaned down, cupping Agatha's chin between her fingers.

"Not a single soul in this entire universe," she said, "even compares to you. They cannot hold a flame to the great Agatha Harkness and her power."

Agatha felt a thrill run through her and she crawled up the bed, over Rio's body, allowing the sheet to fall from her own chest as she straddled Rio's middle, leaning down to kiss her. The curtain of her hair fell around them, shrouding them.

"Let me make you a birthday cake," she murmured against Rio's lips before kissing her. Rio moaned against her mouth, her arms tightening around Agatha, one hand sinking into her hair as she pulled her closer.

"Whatever you want," she husked against Agatha's lips as they pulled back, breathless and needy. "Just never stop doing that."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Agatha said, smiling against her mouth as she leaned back in, her hands disappearing under the sheets.

They met on June 2nd, 1693, but Rio's first "birthday" celebration was three weeks later than the two-year anniversary, after Agatha had gathered all the necessary ingredients for a proper birthday cake, including three candles.

"It's only been two years," she said, looking down at the cake, which Agatha had decorated by hand, her sloppy, handwritten frosting melting under the heat of the wax candles.

"The third one is for good luck," Agatha explained. "It's meant to represent the year ahead."

"And what am I meant to do with a burning cake?" Rio asked, raising one brow in mirth.

"You make a wish," Agatha huffed. "You've observed humans for thousands of years and yet you still don't know anything about how we celebrate our time on earth?"

"There are so many different traditions, all over the world," Rio huffed. "It's very English of you to think that this is the most common one. Lighting a cake on fire?" She snorted.

"Just blow out the candles," Agatha said, glaring at her, "so I can give you your gift."

"A gift?" Rio asked, her eyes twinkling with delight. "Why didn't you mention a gift?"

"It's meant to be a surprise," Agatha said as Rio blew out her candles. Agatha took something from her pocket, placing it on the table in front of Rio. It was small, wrapped in leaves, tied together with string.

"Ooh," Rio said, her voice like a child as she snatched the package from the table, making quick work of the string and leaves, tearing it all to shreds to reveal...a rock.

A geode, actually, broken open to reveal iridescent gems on the inside, the colors shifting in the light from green to purple. Rio's eyes widened, her lips parting as she turned the geode this way and that, marveling at the rocks.

"I have never seen anything quite so...exquisite," she breathed, then looked up at Agatha, who was watching her with a soft smile. "Well, almost anything."

"Always a charmer," Agatha huffed, smiling affectionately down at her lover. "I found that in a cave not far from here. There are more. I can show you."

"Why do I need more?" Rio asked. "This one is perfect." She pressed it to her chest. "Thank you, my love."

Agatha leaned down, pressing her forehead to Rio's, brushing their noses together. "Happy birthday, Rio," she whispered before pressing their lips together in a gentle, loving kiss.

[arcadejohn127-9]

Hello! :) Is it ok if i request the brothers (and the undateables if possible 👉🏻👈🏻) with a teenage MC who's not afraid to call them out whenever they do something stupid/harmful/immoral and has very high morals in general? Like, when Lucifer tried to kill Luke they were furious cause he wanted to kill a child (actually 2 but..), or (this is based the first chat with him after ch.16) when Belphie goes "come on, that's mean!1! >:(" They reply with, "hahah! Wanna know what else is mean?(◠‿◕) The fact that you literally killed me for EXISTING, and when you found out that i was your sister's descendant you were all buddy-buddy with me. You're an hypochrite(Is that how you say it??) And you're a shitty person in general, you killed a CHILD. So i think it's very clear who's the mean one here." (GSJSGSJ I'M SO SORRY THAT IT'S SO LONG AND SASSY-) or they go full on rant about CONSENT with Simeon for the angel event. They also don't really accept opinions about their morals, like:

Diavolo: *lectures them about how humans and demons are different and how things that are clearly wrong in the human world are not in the Devildom*

MC: hm... That's a very well-elaborated and and valid arguement, but something doesn't feel right so i'm gonna just stick with my previously elaborated opinion!(✿^‿^) (wich translates into "i think your opinion is bullshit but i can't exactly tell you that so i'm just gonna be polite about it.")

I think they'd be embarassed being called out by someone who's literally an infant compared to them GSJSGSJ

you can ignore it if too similar to the sassy MC! ^^ i'm sorry it's so long 🥺

While this is very similar to my previous ask, I can do something for you! Hope I was able to put your prompt into proper essence, whilst writing this I got quite heated myself as I started to think how insane it must be for MC In the game

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

"I'm tired." You suddenly barked out, everyone turned their attention to you.

There was a big meeting including the student counsel and the exchange students. You were sitting at the end of the table; every second of noise was like a hammer to your self control. Your anger slowly rising higher and higher until it felt like you were suffocating in it. Satan was the first to notice; sensing the sin like it was a strong disgusting smell.

"What...? Are you really interrupting the meeting just to say you're tired?" Lucifer snarled at you.

"Oh, of course Lucifer is the one to make a rude comment, what? Annoyed I'm making my feelings known?!"

None of them understood what the sudden uproar was. All of them staring at you with wide surprised eyes. You were often one for remarks and expressing your thoughts but this was different; you've snapped. The hatred and anger in your eyes were uncomfortable. They made you look like a completely different person.

"What is the meaning of this? You're being unnecessarily angry-"

"I'M UNNECESSARILY ANGRY?! Oh ho ho~ you tried to kill Luke for being in the house! A LITERAL CHILD!"

Lucifer was stunned; freezing under your intense glare. Everyone's eyes darting over to his figure. He wanted to say more, he wanted to make you shut up. You could understand that look on his face all too well; you exactly what he wanted to say to you. But no, he couldn't possibly do it Infront of Lord Diavolo.

Your anger was only fueled more as you stood up from your seat.

"All of you are a threat! I'm a teenager, DAMNIT! How many times have I had my life put at risk because of one of you or have been threatened to be murdered or harmed - the only reason you didn't do it because you didn't want to cause issues with Diavolo or wanted me for your personal gain!"

"Do you know how meaningless that can make a person feel?! All of you are rotten, horrible beings!"

They all shared a shameful and uncomfortable look; the exchange students weren't sure if they were supposed to be in this conversation. Seeing as the focus was set on the brothers actions. Barbatos tried to warn something like this would happen but no one would take his words seriously. They expected something alot less intense.

"Come on, don't be mean-" Belphie tried to speak, keeping his tone playful as if believing that would fix it.

"You know what's mean, Belphegor? Killing a defenseless child for simply existing and then never apologizing - mind you, NO ONE HERE HAS EVER APOLOGIZED FOR THREATENING ME OR TRYING TO KILL ME - and then having the AUDACITY to be buddy buddy with me after finding out I'm related to your sister."

All the brothers expect Satan winced at your words. Their sister being a sensative topic and to hear you speak of it with such venom in your voice. They weren't sure what to do, some wanted to yell at you, others wanted to leave. But no one did anything. It felt as if they were all frozen.

Was this your magic? Was this harsh feeling of someone stepping on their chest coming from their pacts with you?

But that was just the brothers; the others were feeling a similar discomfort but they knew if they dared tried to leave it would end in chaos.

"But no, I'm mean,I'm the big meanie here who isn't being sweet and forgiving over being put into continuous danger, I'm SO sorry."

You forced a tight sarcastic smile, pretending to be upset.

"Now, let's all calm down, you have to understand - Demons and humans they just don't work the same, what is immoral to you won't be the same here, this is very different kind of society, you came here to be taught and learn to understand these other realms you were unaware of-"

It was now Diavolos turn to be utterly destroyed.

"Everything about that made me feel disgusted, so you're fine with all sorts of immoral acts? That's what you're telling me?"

The demon prince caught onto what you're implying and realized what his words meant, he quickly tried to fix his mistake but you weren't having it. Speaking over him, raising your voice as much as you could to drown him out.

"How about YOU understand MY society and my world's rules!"

"Here's the thing, your lordship, I didn't consent to be here, I didn't agree to be whisked off from my normal life and away from everything I've known, you forced me here and expected me to just deal with it - Solomon knows more about this program than me!"

"You're right, there should of been better preparation but you have to understand the differences between-"

It seems no one has learned. Your head snapped towards the older angel. You began to slowly trudge over to him.

"I'm so glad you decided to speak up, Simeon, because talking about consent, did you even know what those bangles would do to the brothers??? Did you just think it would be all fun and games to just make them angelic again despite knowing their history? None of them were okay about it and you just went ahead with it anyway - THEY WERE PRACTICALLY BRAINWASHED!"

Everyone in the room felt a sharp whiplash from your words. From one moment being furious and despising the brothers to now scolding someone who's harmed them.

"I didn't know it would be like that-!" He truely didn't, he felt awful about what they did.

"And yet you didn't seem to be in a rush to do anything about it, to me you seem to rather enjoy seeing them like that."

He couldn't say anything. He couldn't even try. Simeon just let his head drop in shame, knowing your words were true.

"Everyone here expect Solomon and Luke are innocent - Barbatos you're on thin fucking ice."

You snarled, pointing over to the butler. He didn't flinch under your gaze. Just staying composed and beside his master.

"I'm out of here." You declares, spinning on your heel and stormed out.

Luke suddenly jumped off his seat; tears streaming down his face and rushed after you. Calling out for you as he ignored Simeon's pleas.

The room was silent as everyone mewled over your words. Stunned they all got cussed out by a mere teenager and all of them knew; you were right.

[getitinbusan]

Locked -

Taehyung 

Smut with Taehyung in Paris what could be better? 19+

Happy Birthday Taehyung! You are my sun my moon and all of my stars.

Part of the The Juis Suis Fou de Toi Universe.

Artist Tae AU. 4213 words.

While convincing his girlfriend he should paint her, things get a little sexually abstract.

Contains sex (M/F), Oral (M) Mutual Masturbation (M/F), Swearing, Slight Dom Tae, OC is insecure. Do not be fooled before the read more, there is no cheating in this fic. 

"We're almost home, please don't make me carry you."

Yeontan looked up with big eyes as he defiantly sat in the middle of the sidewalk. Crouching down to his level in defeat you tore a piece of your pastry off and began bargaining.

"It's strawberry your favorite, you can have some if you just stand up."

He let out a little bark seemingly in agreeance with the bribe and stood, tail wagging frantically.

"Tannie," Taehyung scooped the excited dog into his arms while placing a kiss on your cheek.

"Camille, this is my girlfriend Y/N and this," Yeontan wiggled in his arms while licking his face, "is Tannie."

"Oh, Hi."

Shocked you took in the tall gorgeous blonde who accompanied you boyfriend. Why Taehyung was walking around the streets of Paris with her you were unsure, and honestly not very happy. 

"It's really nice to meet you Camille."

Suddenly feeling self conscious you pulled your coat tighter around yourself.

Taehyung, noticing the sudden shift in your mood wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Camille is helping me with the gallery opening. We were going to grab some dinner before we started. Do you want to join us?"

Your mind raced, what do you do?  He hadn't invited you in the first place so obviously you'd be intruding.

If you stayed he'd be looking at you side by side, comparing Pomme to Pomme De Terre. But, if you left they'd be alone, getting to know one another or worse. Maybe they already knew each other better than they should.  

In either scenario your insecurities would be winning. 

"Tannie's getting pretty tired and I was going to stop at the Butcher to grab us dinner." Your eyes fell on his searching for guilt and found nothing but adoration. "But I guess you've already got plans so I'll just catch up with you later." 

He passed the dog back to you, a new look of concern on his face.

"Okay, I guess I'll just see you at home later," he kissed your cheek. 

"Bye Tannie, bye Y/N."

The woman smiled and looped her arm through Taehyung's as they walked towards the cafe. 

"That doesn’t mean anything right Tan? It’s just a French thing I’m sure.” You must be going crazy standing in the street talking to your dog. “So, how do you feel about stopping for some wine?"

You frowned at your four legged companion and for once he seemed sympathetic offering a head tilt and a whimper.

"Don't worry, you can have his Steak." 

Walking home in a daze you searched your memory, had he told you about this? Taehyung liked to work alone, surely you'd remember him mentioning he'd hired an assistant. 

Your feet had suddenly become as tired as your mind. The blue mansard roof of your apartment peeked through the greenery of the blowing trees urging you forward, calling you home.  

Rounding the last corner, the Pont Des Arts had been covered in gaudy yellow caution tape. In the hour and a half you'd been out, workers had begun pulling off rail sections of the love locked bridge.

You felt dizzy, was this a sign? The lock that you'd placed on it signifying your commitment was being taken away. Helpless you stood watching thousands of couples promise's to one another being disassembled.

Pulling your phone from your satin lined pocket your first instinct was to text Taehyung. 

Y/N: I can't believe it, they're dismantling the bridge and taking away our lock 💔 I'm so sad Taehyung, It really meant so much to me. 

Tears rolled down your cheek as you reevaluated the message. Instead of hitting send you deleted and replaced your words

Y/N: The bridge is under construction, maybe take a different way home later. 

You hadn't heard him come home and had no idea how late he'd been out. With sadness and worry getting the best of your brain, sleep seemed like the only way to curb your anxiety. It had been quite an effective method until you found yourself wide awake tiptoeing through your house in the wee hours of the morning. 

The worn floorboards creaked underneath your slow step, the vintage wood was cold to the touch of your bare feet. The old apartment was drafty on the best of days but 4 am carried its own specific type of chill.

A shiver ran up your spine, perhaps one of Le Marais famous revolutionary ghosts had joined in on the quest to find your boyfriend. Or maybe it was just the ominous feeling in the pit of your stomach that the universe was trying to tell you something. 

A faint light glowed yellow under the warped door at the end of the hallway and the sounds of Thelonious Monk's piano drifted through the air the closer you got. 

The painted metal door handle gave way opening to a wall of heat from the radiators lining the enormous windows. 

"Go figure I'd find you in the warmest room in the house."

He was shirtless and seemingly debating the fate of the canvas before him.  With his paintbrush clenched between his teeth he turned, a huge smile warming you instantly. 

"Why aren't you in bed?" He set the brush down and walked over to wrap you in his embrace. 

"I don't like sleeping without you, you're the only thing that keeps me warm in that freezer of a bedroom." 

You stood on your tiptoes to place a peck on his lips. 

"What are you working on? Is it for the gallery?" 

He sighed heavily, "Just another Lavender Field I guess. I'm so uninspired. Why won't you just let me paint you, hmm?" 

His fingers splayed over the lace covered small of your back pulling you in tighter. "What are you so afraid of."

"Tae," you buried your face into the crook of his neck. "Isn't the point of art painting things that people want to look at? You should be painting women like Camille not me."

Pressed to his chest you swear you heard his breath halt. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully before he spoke softly.

"Camille is pretty but there is absolutely nothing unique or inspiring about her."

He kissed the top of your head before tugging on your chin to make you look at him.

"You are the most beautiful woman in the world, but you are a terribly uncooperative muse." 

"I don't want to be Tae, I'm just afraid" 

"What is there to be afraid of? It's just you and me, If you don’t like it I'm the only one who will see it." 

"That's it though, what if…" a tear slipped from your eye, "What if you don't like what you see, what if painting me makes you see all my flaws. I can't stand looking in the mirror for 5 minutes and you want to immortalize my every imperfection on a canvas." 

His face was soft and serious, the lights from the city streaming through the large windows across his honey skin. 

"Sweetheart, how do I make you believe me? I never want you to be uncomfortable but I think if I can show you how you look through my eyes you'll understand what my heart sees every time I look at you.”

Stepping back from him you nodded. Sliding the thin straps off your shoulders you stepped out of the white lace puddle that now lay at your feet. 

"Okay." 

His face lit up like he'd received divine inspiration.

"I have an idea." 

He scurried for a palate, squeezing colors on it like a man possessed. Rummaging for the right brushes he returned presenting them to you like a cat who'd dragged home a mouse. 

"Trust me?"

You nodded, "I do." 

Loading his brush with paint you stood waiting for him to lay the first stroke to the oversize canvas leaning on the wall beside you. 

Raising the tool to his mouth he exhaled a warm breath over it as if trying to take the chill off.

"I've never seen this technique before" 

"It's because I've only just invented it." 

He ran the paintbrush down your torso sending a shiver from head to toe. 

You gasped, "You're not just painting me... you're literally painting Me?"

The biggest smile overtook his face, "You said you trusted me." 

Trying to remain still and not ask questions you watched him work. Diligently mixing colors and trading brushes his design slowly revealed itself. 

"Are you painting me as starry night?"

He stepped back to admire his work. "Like the stars, you guide and inspire me. I think it captures your spirit." 

He shifted the canvas so it was flat to the wall. 

"Come over here." He reached for your hand, "Are you ready? I want you to press yourself against it." 

"Here?"

Sliding in close behind you he raised your arms into position, holding them up.

"Like this, right here." 

His breath felt hot on your skin and your nipples hardened with his words. Gently he used his body weight to press you onto the canvas. 

"Now step back to me slowly." 

Pulling back, the paint had transferred to the canvas. It was stamped with starry breasts, stomach and thighs, it was you and it was beautiful. He dragged his lips down your shoulder as you stood looking at it.

"Now let's do the right side." 

You repeated the process but this time you could feel him growing hard against you. His hands trailed down your sides and his lips moved warm against your ear.

"You've never been sexier."

His rumbles of admiration set your insides on fire. 

"Taehyung I want you."

All the gentle brush strokes and touching had left you aroused aching for him to fill you. 

"Do you need me to take care of you baby?" 

He slid his cloth covered cock over your bare ass, grinding, teasing, slowly torturing your needy cunt. 

"Fuck you until you're screaming my name?" 

Sliding two long fingers deep inside you he held them there motionless. 

Leaning over you, dominating, he growled into your ear.

"Show me how you like it, fuck my fingers like you want to fuck my cock."

You clenched immediately around his digits and he laughed, "that's my dirty girl, now use me to make yourself feel good." 

Throbbing wet and desperate you used his hand to pleasure yourself. Harder and deeper it felt good but it wasn't him.  

"Tae, It's not enough I need your cock."

He snickered again, "why is that, maybe you should tell me." 

He reached his free hand around to pinch your nipple. 

The truth was, nothing could satisfy you once you'd had him inside you. He was huge and perfect and he knew how insatiable you were for him. 

"I need you to stretch me, wanna feel you against my cervix fucking me so hard."

You sounded whiny and it flipped the switch inside him from teasing to wanting instant gratification. 

Pulling his hand away from your breast he undid his pants and kicked them away. His erection fell against your ass as he pressed you back to the center of the canvas. 

"Right here, arms up for me." 

You did as you were told as he took a stance behind you lining himself with your entrance. He could be the most generous gentle lover when needed but right now you both wanted something animalistic and dirty. 

Thrusting hard and deep your whole body slid in an upward motion streaking the paint vertically onto the canvas. 

"Fuck."

It was pleasure, it was pain and it was satisfying to your core. 

"Is that enough for you?" His large hand feel heavy against your ass. 

"Harder." 

"Such a greedy little girl you are." 

Another thrust and you were seeing stars. Splayed across the canvas your cheek dragged through the midnight blue acrylic.

Trying to desperately catch your breath your mouth hung open panting the words fuck me and faster while he pumped furiously into you. 

His fingertips traveled from their grip on your hip to the protruding bud engorged with arousal that lay starved for attention between your thighs. He pressed and rolled your clit softly in contradiction to the rough pounding your pussy was taking. 

"Tae."

His name moaned out of your mouth and it was the only signal he needed to know he'd done his job. He slowed his hips and pulled you down impaling you onto his cock until your walls convulsed around him. He held you there, still for a minute until your senses had come back and you were able to stand on your own. 

His mouth hung open in a grin while his erection still stood hungry for more. 

Pulling the canvas from the wall he laid it on the ground. 

"I think this painting needs some pretty little knee marks on it."

"Show me where." It was your turn to tease. 

He pointed where he wanted you to kneel and shoved his finger into your mouth.

"Right there, and right here," he stroked your tongue with his thumb. 

He pulled his finger away and rubbed his tip around your lips. 

Opening up wide for him he gently began fucking your mouth. Head was always a challenge given his size so it was never rushed.

Gingerly you wrapped your hands around him stroking the length that didn't fit in your mouth. His head was thrown back, eyes closed as puffs of air heaved from his chest in pleasure. 

He was getting close, his now careless thrusts began making you choke around him.

"Fuck, sorry," he pulled back.

You kitten licked and sucked at his tip while he wrapped his hand tightly around himself and began rubbing. 

You looked up at him from the position on your knees. His beautiful body was covered in paint splatters everywhere it had connected with yours 

"Fuck Tae, I love watching you touch yourself." 

"Yeah?" he took a long stroke thumbing the tip. 

"Yeah," you could feel yourself getting worked up again. 

"Lay back. "He stood over you, "Can you see how beautiful I think you are now?" His hands wandered between his legs and he rubbed his balls with one while he resumed stroking with the other. "How sexy I think you are?" 

His words washed over you, arousal peaking you nipples. 

"When I can't find inspiration I imagine you just like this and I masturbate thinking about your perfect tits." 

Your pussy was pulsing at the thought of him in here clearing his head by milking himself. 

"Can you touch yourself for me? Give my imagination something to use next time I'm stuck in here?" 

You nodded, breath heavy in anticipation of cumming again for him. 

"Stick your fingers in your pussy for me." 

You did, moaning instantly. You were sensitive, every nerve was lit like a fuse ready to explode. Pumping your fingers in time with his strokes you were both unravelling quickly. 

His exasperated breathing got louder signaling his immanent release. Picking up speed he came in warm droplets that landed on you and over the canvas on which you lay. 

So turned on watching him you finished your own orgasm mere seconds after he did.

Opening his eyes looking down at you shocked he smiled, "Did we just do that?" He held out his hand to help you up. 

"Yeah, I think we did." you blushed.

Grabbing a clean drop cloth from the shelf he draped it around you as you both stood looking over the painting. 

"It's really not bad, I can still make out the important parts. The way the stars smeared looks intentional like their shooting through the sky." 

Laughing you shook your head, "It's definitely an abstract." 

"As are you," he turned you to the mirror. Painted cheeks, wild hair, dried yellow stars flaking off the skin of your stomach.

"Let's go out!” He abruptly declared. “I want to see you all messy and fucked out with the Eiffel Tower as a backdrop." 

"You're crazy Taehyung, What will people think?" 

"They'll think they're in Paris and that an artist and his muse just made wild passionate love in the wee hours of the morning because they couldn't stand to keep their hands off of one another."

He grabbed his coat from the corner and tied the belt tightly around your waist. 

Placing his hands on your cheeks and cradling your face his lips pressed and lingered against yours.

"They'll think, that must be what true love looks like and they’ll all be jealous."

Taking leisurely steps across the bridge the quiet of dawn was only broken by the water lapping beneath you. The absence of the locks amplified the little wakes and you tried to mentally record them as one of the many new memories you'd made tonight. 

Coffee in one hand and Taehyung's in the other. He pulled pieces of chocolatine from the bag tucked under his arm and fed them to you as you walked.

"I don't think I'm ever going to get over the fact you don't like coffee." You took a big sip. 

"It's strategic. If I had to hold a coffee and the pastry bag I wouldn't be able to hold your hand."

He stopped abruptly lightly jarring your arm. 

"Hey, Did you know that right here, this is the exact spot we first met."

His dark eyes reflected the lamplight just like they did as he looked at you that night.

"You were leaning over the rail," he pointed, "right here, waving to the passengers in the boats."

"Ughh, I was such a tourist." You laughed in retrospect. 

He took the coffee from your hand and set it on the base of the lamppost.

"Go pose for me, I want to take your picture so I can paint you from the night we met, I'll even add the locks back in."   

"It won't be the same." You sighed, "I'm covered in paint, my hair's a mess and all I have on is your trench coat."

"You're crazy if you think I don't remember everything about the way you looked. How that loose strand of hair fell," he tucked your hair behind your ear, "and still falls over your eye.  You had on that green sweater, I remember It was so soft against my fingertips when I reached out to hold your hand.” 

He kissed you and whispered, "Let me have that moment again." 

"You're such a hopeless romantic my love." You smiled fondly and obliged. Leaning over and looking down you re-enacted the opening scene of your meeting. 

After a few minutes of waving to an imaginary boat you turned giggling. "Did you get what you wanted?"

He was kneeling on the ground a few feet away looking pensive.

"Almost."

"Do you want me to do it again?"

His smile grew as his hand reached into his pocket and he held up what appeared to be a padlock. 

"No," He paused. "I want you and I to be locked together forever."

Turning back towards the rails you inspected them closely. "I don't think we can Tae, they pretty much made them lock proof." By the time you'd spun back to face him he was standing beside you. 

His large hand was wrapped around the lock with only little glimmers of metal peeking out.

"But this is a magic lock. I'm going to give you the key and you're going to have to make a decision, just like when we first met." He pressed the lock's pronged companion piece into your palm while simultaneously unfurling his fingers. 

"Marry me?"

Shocked floored, not even an ounce of intuition had told you this was coming. Hooked onto the shackle an enormous pear shaped diamond awaited your answer.

"Tae," your hand shook and tears blurred your vision as you moved to free the ring from it's restraint.

"Of course, Yes." Turning the key Taehyung pulled the lock apart and slid the diamond onto your finger.

Under the lamp, on the bridge in the middle of Paris it was like lightning had struck twice. You stood kissing the man who'd once again changed your life.

"But what are we going to do with the Lock?" The bridge was stark under the first rays of sunrise and heartbreakingly void of the promises it once guarded.

"So superstitious." He put the lock back in his pocket. "You're just going to have to hold on to that key until the time is right."

Fresh paint overwhelmed your senses. Guiding you with his large hands he steered you forward for what felt like forever.

"Is the blindfold necessary?"

"In order to surprise you, yes, yes it is."

He'd been working hard on his new exhibition and it had been kept tightly under wraps. One advantage of sleeping with the artist was the private advanced viewing from the curator himself.

"Are you ready?" he stilled you adjusting your angles. "Hold out your hand."

"Oh, it's an interactive piece?" you chided him. "I agree to do one painting and suddenly we're Marina and Ulay."

Placing something that felt like cool metal into your palm he slipped the blindfold off. 

Before your eyes stood a huge section of railing, thousands of padlocks adorning it. Behind the rail, a life size painting, a girl in a green sweater. Leaning forward she waved, looking happy, as her hair blew softly. Her eyes naïve, not knowing she was about to fall in love.

The words on the wall named the piece, "Locked"

"Tae," a tear fell in awe at his recreation. "You made me look beautiful."

"No mon petite, you make you look beautiful. Do you have your key?"

Lifting the chain from around your neck you held it up for him.

"Let's find our lock. It was closer to the top if I recall correctly."

"There's no way? This isn't a recreation? This is the real bridge?"

He laughed, "I know what it meant to you. They were selling pieces for charity. That's what I was really doing with Camille that day. She's a broker for the auction house."

The memory of your insecurities came back in a flash and your cheeks blushed pink at how foolish the notion of him straying seemed now.

"Here it is!" He crouched down holding it in his hand, your inked initials a little worn but still visible.

Slipping your key into the new lock you popped it open and knelt down beside him. Hooking it through the original it stood out higher than the rest and you both smiled.

"You're stuck with me now, triple locked." He fiddled with your ring suddenly shy.

"I don't need metaphors to know we'll be together forever Taehyung." You kissed his soft lips. "but I really like them."

The gallery had been taken over by a hum of excitement, the air hanging heavy, was full of compliments and bids. Everyone was clamoring for the chance to own a Kim Taehyung original.

You hadn't seen the man of the hour in a while. You'd been kept dutifully in one spot regaling everyone with the romantic story behind the girl waving on the bridge. 

Finally breaking away you grabbed a glass of champagne from the nearest waiters tray and made your way to the back of the gallery. He stood by a painting you'd yet to see with an eclectic looking woman in large red framed glasses. Her bangle bracelets chimed together as she theatrically asked him questions about his work.

Noticing you moving towards him, his face pleaded silently with you to come to his social rescue.

"Ah, the girl in the Green Sweater!" She pulled you into her side grabbing and holding your hand. "Are you also The Reluctant Muse?" she pointed to the secretly cum splatterd piece.

Taehyung held back his smile, biting his lip.

"Yes, I guess I am."

"The abstract way he displayed your body, it's very sexy. You know I used to be someone's muse." She patted the back of your hand. "From the size of this ring I'm guessing you're not nearly as reluctant anymore."

Knocking back your champagne you reached for another, "I'm currently working on lowering my inhibitions."

Focusing back on Taehyung she continued, "I simply have to have this painting, it reminds me so much of my younger days."

He shook his head to reinforce what he was about to say. "Unfortunately this one has already been curated to a private collection." He winked nodding discreetly in your direction.

"Don't be silly, I'll give you $20,000."

You choked on your drink surprised while he reiterated his statement.

"I'm sorry, It's just a very special painting to me."

You had to interject, "Let's not make any hasty decisions."

Taehyung raised a scolding eyebrow, "The piece is simply priceless, I've put too much of myself in it to sell." 

You smirked at his secret admission. "What if," feeling emboldened with confidence you put forth the suggestion, "we make it a series?"

Taehyung's eyes lit up as you explained.

"It'll be one of a kind, just for you madam."

Her bangles declared her excitement as she clapped. "Yes, I love that! But I have two conditions."

Leaning forward you both eagerly waited.

“I want extra splatters, I really like the way they look. And I'm going to need it finished in time for my party next week.”

Taehyung shook the woman's hand and grinned proudly at you.

"No problem, we'll start working on it tonight."

[neptunetheplanet7]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐡

DM ME IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE PUT ON THE TAGLIST!!

;mikasa ackerman x fem!lesbian!reader

;modern au, band au

word count: 2.0k

warnings: swearing, eren is a wee bit dramatic, a singular pervert

listen to the music masterlist

prev | next

"Shit!" Eren yelled, starting to chase after the police car Zeke was now in the back of. "That's my brother! Let him go!"

He shouted multiple profanities as he ran. He almost hoped they'd reach the ears of the cops.

"Eren, wait!" Armin ran forward after him. His hands latched onto Eren's shirt to stop him from running any further.

He was pulled back by Armin and he collapsed on the concrete. The yells he emitted made his voice scratchy and hoarse. He sat on his knees, breathing hard. The cars disappeared from your line of sight as Armin helped guide Eren to the group.

A deep voice made you tear your gaze away from them. "I apologize on behalf of Levi. He usually keeps a cool head." Looking up, you saw the blond man from before looking at your stumbling friends worriedly.

"Oh, yeah. I apologize on behalf of Zeke. He's always in some sort of trouble. Was that your wedding ring he pawned?" you asked.

He sighed. "Yes, it was." He paused and pressed his lips into a thin line. "Levi was really upset when he came home without it. But you don't have to apologize for what Zeke did. It's in the past and we can always just get more rings. I'm Erwin, by the way." He moved his hand forward to grasp yours.

You returned his kind smile. "I'm Y/n, nice to meet you. You should probably go before my friend gets back over here." You gestured to Eren, who was slumped against the blond beside him. "He can get pretty temperamental too."

Erwin smiled again. "I'll take your advice on that one. Take care, Y/n."

"You too."

After a few minutes, he reached his car and drove away. You couldn't help but wonder if Erwin's husband had anything to do with Zeke and Nebraska. However, you figured pawning something wouldn't get you banned from a state.

You decided not to dwell on it at that moment. So many things happened throughout the night and you didn't need another add-on.

Eren sat against the bench, sliding down the back. Armin was still by his side.

Annie and Bertholdt exited the restaurant, Bertholdt holding the door for her. Reiner trailed behind them.

They made their way over and stood by the bench. Reiner spoke up, "Everything's on the house, according to Marcel. Porco said we should probably get out of here, though."

"We didn't even get to eat!" Sasha whined. Her dress creased against the pavement as she kicked her legs.

Connie nodded and frantically looked around as if some food would magically appear from the ground. He wasn't far off.

"Holy shit is that a food truck?" He pointed across the road, and sure enough, there was one running in the parking lot of a plaza.

"I didn't even know food trucks were out this late. I'm thanking my lucky stars they are, though," Marco grinned.

Sasha's eyes lit up at the sight and she bolted across the parking lot. You were sure you had never seen anyone run that fast in your life.

"Christ, Sasha. Wait for me at least." Connie jumped off the sidewalk and charged after her.

The rest of you followed the two at a slower, more reasonable, pace. Careful to watch for cars instead of just running into traffic like your idiot friends.

The employees of the truck were pleasantly surprised when they saw the sudden line of people gathering at their window.

Eager chatter about the food you all would order quickly arose. All your stress from earlier events seemed to dissipate when Mikasa urged you into a conversation.

When the two of you reached the front of the line, the guy running the truck recognized you. He referred to you as 'the hot guitarist from that one band.'

Mikasa was visibly disgusted when she trained her cold eyes on the man. Grabbing the food, she ushered you away and glared over her shoulder as you sat on the ground in front of her.

The whole group was sitting on the pavement since there were no benches nearby in the empty parking lot.

Stores lined the end of the lot that faced your back. Dim lights emitted from inside a few of them. Other than that, there was only light coming from the food truck plus some street lamps.

The air was light and the sky was dark. Stars shone amongst the barely visible clouds. Your gaze shifted up at them just as you finished eating. They stared back down on you and a closed-eyed smile broke out on your face.

Mikasa stopped laughing with Sasha when you caught her attention. You looked so contempt and peaceful, especially after the night you had. Your foot tapped lightly against the concrete. Your face was illuminated by the moonlight.

She was entranced by you and couldn't avert her eyes. Coming back home made her fall into habits from a long time ago. Habits she used to be ashamed of.

The sound of Armin dropping their paper plate as he stood made Mikasa finally snap her eyes away from you. She blushed and Sasha side-eyed her with a teasing smile.

Eren dropped his plate next to Armin's and pushed himself up. He gestured excitedly to a liquor store behind you and proudly declared that all drinks were on him.

Ymir cheered loudly at this. She stood as well and tried to get others to join in. Historia chipped in a small yell of triumph as Eren dragged Jean into the shop to stock up.

Armin reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. A wide smile stretched his face. "Do you guys like the idea of music right now?"

Reiner nodded enthusiastically and looked over the blond's shoulder at their playlist. He grinned and leaned over to hit shuffle.

Armin turned up the volume and set his phone down. An old song filled the atmosphere and he began to dance along.

Reiner joined in alongside Marco, Ymir, and Historia likewise. Sasha and Connie's dance moves were very uncoordinated compared to the others. Their limbs flailed in the air but at least they had the spirit.

Bertholdt was awkwardly overlooking the scene until Annie grabbed his arm and led him into the dancing circle. It was nice to see her letting loose, even if she was only making Bertholdt's obvious crush worse in the process.

Laughing to yourself, you got up to dance with your friends. You beckoned for Mikasa to come along and she didn't hesitate to follow.

After a few songs, Eren and Jean emerged from the liquor store with cases of beer. Ymir emitted another cheer and helped them unbox some of it, taking a bottle for herself and her girlfriend.

Mikasa stopped dancing to grab bottles for the both of you. After multiple attempts, you claimed to be too weak to open yours so she gladly took up the responsibility. You thanked her and drank it happily.

Eren stepped in to dance and stole Armin's attention from Reiner. A hurt look graced his features for a moment before shaking it off as quickly as it came. He opted for intruding on Bertholdt and Annie.

Jean took hold of Marco's arm and spun him around over and over while they laughed like idiots.

Ymir was loudly singing along while twirling around in various parking spots with Historia.

A few yards away from the others, you kept swaying to the music with Mikasa. Sasha and Connie were snickering to themselves and pointing but you pretended to not see them.

Mikasa snorted when she looked at your clumsy form. "You're not a very good dancer. I guess that's one thing that'll never change."

Your jaw dropped as you feigned offense. "That's rude. I happen to be a great dancer. Remember homecoming?"

She smiled and laughed. "Do I? You must've stepped on my feet at least fifty times."

"Damn, sorry about that. But if I'm so bad then you must be great. Teach me your ways, Mikasa," you jested. Even though you were joking, you still felt your face heat up at the idea of her showing you how she danced so well.

Her smile was still evident when she took hold of your hands and moved you along to the beat. "I'll take you up on that offer."

She never took her eyes off of you as her hands guided your body to move with the music. You flushed under her stare and prayed it didn't show in the moonlight.

Each time she sent you a reassuring smile you wondered if she was thinking like you. Not that it mattered much. All you knew was that when you met her eyes, there ceased to be any problems nagging your mind.

By the time Armin's songs replayed for the third time, you had your fair share of drinks. A lot of your friends had drunk a little heavier, though. The only ones who weren't extremely drunk or passed out were the designated drivers and, coincidentally, you and Mikasa.

At this point in the night, the food truck was long gone. Eren and Armin were making fools of themselves trying to dance together. Marco was doing his best dealing with Jean's clinginess but he was barely holding on by a thread. Ymir and Reiner were fast asleep on the ground on either side of Historia. Sasha was surprisingly sober, you guessed she had to drive a drunk Connie home.

A slower song started to play and Mikasa made the bold move to pull your arms around her shoulders and put her hands on your waist.

"Like them," she whispered and nodded to Bertholdt and Annie. You would've shrieked at the sight of them dancing so closely together if you weren't already so surprised by Mikasa's suddenness.

You swayed with her to the rhythm of the song as she led the dance. You hoped the clicking sound you heard behind you wasn't Sasha's camera.

Continuing the quiet dance, you knew the familiar song was coming to an end. Call it the alcohol talking, but you felt a sudden burst of confidence run through your veins.

You adjusted your arms around her neck to pull her closer and she did the same at your waist. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach as you eased into her embrace.

When you looked into her eyes you realized she was leaning closer to your face. She stopped to ask, "Is this okay?" Her voice was shaky as she whispered. Her warm breath tickled your nose from the proximity.

You nodded. Your hushed words came out even shakier than hers, "Just listen to the music."

You didn't fight the feeling when your lips collided with hers. A warmth spread throughout your chest and you felt like fireworks were exploding inside of you. Her kiss was soft and her scent was intoxicating. This is really happening.

When you finally parted to look up at her, you felt everything and then nothing at all. The world faded from your view and you were no longer staring into her eyes when it went dark.

posted: 9/9/21

neptunetheplanet7© 2021

no reposts, edits, or modification to my work by anyone other than me.

[almostmaybealways]

Oh How The Mighty Have Fallen

Alexandra Simmons.... Agent of SHIELD. Missing in action since 1963, she's given up hope on ever being rescued. Turned into a weapon for the very organization she vowed to end, HYDRA seems to have the upper hand. Until the Avengers that is. Now, Alex must learn to adapt to a new century, a new way of life, and a new team desperate to help her move on from her past. And who knows? Maybe she just might find love along the way. Only, things aren't ever the way they seem, are they?

Steve RogersxOC

SLOW BURN

Disclaimer: I own none of the Marvel Franchise, only my OC Alexandra Simmons

TRIGGER WARNING: Depression, mentions of torture, and other dark themes will be discussed in this book. Please DON'T read if this may be triggering.

***To read more of this story and my other works, please please go to Wattpad and search for my profile, @piecesofhome.****

——-

Prologue

Everyone has a preconceived idea of what it means to be a superhero. Most think of the grandeur, the fame and fortune that comes with saving the world.

They don't think about the sacrifice. Or the days where you can't get out of bed because you're too caught up in the decisions you shouldn't have made. The lives that were lost along the way. 

Truth is, most heroes are broken. They've lost more than any one person should ever have to endure and yet, they persist. For you. And for me. And if they're lucky, they might be able to find small minuscule shreds of happiness along the way, though it's rare. Heroism isn't glamorous.

It's tragic.

But between the tragedy and the happiness are these small seemingly insignificant moments that can change everything. They make you stop, take a minute, and reflect on your choices. How did you end up here?

For Steve Rogers, that moment was when he began to plummet into oblivion from a destroyed Hellicarrier. And when the water washed over him, stealing his breath and darkening his vision, he thought. He thought about his life, about his friend that seemed oh so lost. And he thought about that beautiful woman he left back in 1943. And Steve Rogers welcomed the darkness.

But life was cruel.

With the sound of soft jazz, Steve Rogers was welcomed back into the twenty-first century. He looked to see his friend Sam Wilson next to him, reading a magazine. And yet, he had hoped to see a different friend at his bedside. A fake smile was plastered onto his face, fake happiness in his tone, everything was fake. Steve Rogers had been faking since he came out of the ice. Not that he'd admit it.

"I hope you weren't planning on getting any rest." Sam's face was solemn as he fished a piece of paper from Steve's soaked uniform.

"Your friend? He left you this. The nurse's found it when they were changing you." As Steve's eyes roved over the small slip of paper, his eyes hardened, a hard set making it's way into his jaw. On it, was a set of coordinates, coordinates that would change everything he thought he knew. Underneath, two words. Help Her.

---

For Alexandra Simmons, her moment was the day she shook Howard Stark's hand for the first time. That had been the beginning of everything. It had been the beginning of her hell on earth. And now, as she sat chained inside her cell, water dripping from the ceiling above, she silently prayed today would be the day they decided to put her out of her misery.

But this day was merciful.

Gunfire permeated the silence, panic washing over the faces of each scientist outside her cell. Mumblings passed through the room, soon turning to loud shouts and screams. Files and various other papers were shoved into coat pockets, her form being forgotten as they attempted to escape whatever, or whoever, was coming. Clanging bars caused her to look towards the door, rough hands yanking her upwards. Her body was weak, too weak to resist, but this wasn't any normal relocation.

And Alexandra was not a quitter.

Thin hands grabbed ahold of rusted metal, knuckles turning white, teeth gritting in determination as she remained steadfast and unmoving. Her efforts were met with a literal slap to the face, a ring splitting her lip.

And Alexandra smiled.

It was almost sadistic, the grin she let spread across her mouth. The grin eventually developed into full laughter, eyes focused on something behind the man's head. A sickening crunch sounded, a large red stain blooming on the scientist's red coat as a blade was thrust from his chest. A splash of red swept across Alexandra's face, red that for once wasn't hers. Her knees began to shake, vision swimming as she attempted to look at her saviors. But the uniform that greeted her had been retired long ago. It was impossible. Unless it wasn't.

Her recovery had been slow. At first, she spent time in what Steve could only call total catatonia. She was awake. Her eyes were open, fixed on the pristine white ceiling above her head. Banner had said it was trauma, that what she'd been through was easier to cope with if she didn't allow herself to be awake.

Her photo had been compared to missing persons all across the world, the results staggering. They'd expected many things, a grieving family, an innocent woman who had nothing to do with their life. A missing SHIELD agent from the 60's wasn't it. The doctors didn't know how she was even alive. Besides the fact that she was supposed to be in her seventies, the effects of torture were more than obvious. Scars, burns, and various bruises mapped their way across her skin, telling various stories Steve would rather not have to hear. They called it pure determination to live. Tony had called her too stubborn to die. Banner took her blood after the first week to try and figure out what they'd done to her. After a month of her being unresponsive, they'd declared her a lost cause.

Steve Rogers didn't believe in lost causes.

Bucky had proven he was still in there somewhere, still fighting against who he'd been forced to become. And if he could overcome. So could she. So Steve did the only thing he knew how to do. He sat next to her bedside between missions, and simply talked. He went over his most recent missions, the terrible and the good that came with being a superhero.

One day she smiled.

His eyes had widened, grinning as she turned her head to look at him for the first time. She said nothing, but she didn't have to. Progress was being made.

The second month she sat up for the first time. Her muscles were stiff and sore, protesting to the movement. But with his help, she'd persisted.

The third month she'd gotten out of bed for the first time. Her legs had shaken and trembled at the unfamiliar movement. But she was determined. She'd yet to speak, but Steve knew she was listening intently to each word he uttered.

By the fourth month Steve looked forward to his visits with her. The most she'd done was smile at him, her eyes gleaming with joy at every spoken sentence. Until one day when he told her about the battle of New York, how Tony had grabbed a Nuke and carried it through the wormhole to space.

"I knew his father, Howard." Her voice had been rough, broken from going unused, but it was audible. He'd looked at her with such pride that day.

The rest of the team had slowly introduced themselves after that. Her reaction to Thor had been almost childlike, eyes wide, glittering with happiness and laughter. It had blown up his ego far too much. She'd been intimidated by Natasha, the redhead's fiery personality a stark contrast to her current state. Clint's rough exterior had terrified her at first, but the first smile he sent her way made her relax entirely. Tony had been.....well....his usual self, but his antics made her laugh joyously. She and Banner had gotten along quite well, their intellect complimenting each other. And Steve, well, he liked to consider himself her friend. I guess that's where our story begins. A broken agent, a ninety-seven-year-old superhero, and a team of misfits, somehow coming together to bring down the most notoriously evil organization in the world. And it was going to be quite a ride.

[stanbillyhargrove]

Ghosts chp 20

Ally's Story

T/W: sexual assault, eating disorder

Ally's story is NOT nice, it's based off Cat's story from Demons but without the support system that Cat had

Katrina's POV

Ally was perched on the end of my bed, watching as I changed the bandages on my stomach. I taped sterile white gauze to my skin and eased myself back onto the bed with a groan.

"You've been hanging around a lot," I mumbled.

"Do you not want me here? I can leave."

"No! Wait, stay. Please, I like the company. I just mean, I hadn't seen you in a long time."

"When he's around we can't get close to you," she explained, "he keeps us away. But he's weak right now."

She sat back against the wall with a sigh, eyeing me after catching me staring at her, "what?"

"What's your story, Ally? What happened to you?"

She held her arms up so I could see the two long cuts that ran down her forearms, "isn't it obvious?"

"That's not your story, not all of it."

She dropped her arms into her lap, "you don't have to pretend to care. I'm already dead."

I stretched my hand across the bed, reaching for her, "I do care."

Her eyes were teary when she met my gaze, her jaw tight, but she still moved closer to take my hand.

--

"Mommy, Daddy's home," I announced.

She shook her head, "no, sweetie, he's not off work for a couple hours."

But then, a few minutes later, he walked through the door. Sent home early because of the blizzard sweeping through town. My mother brushed it off, saying I must have seen his car even though I was playing nowhere near the windows at the time.

That feeling, that sense of knowing, it never went away. As I got older, I realized it wasn't normal to know when someone was getting close. It wasn't normal to turn around and yell out your friends names when they were trying to sneak up on you. I started losing friends fast, nobody wanted to be associated with the outcast. The chubby cheeked weirdo that gave everyone the heebie jeebies.

I was twelve when the bullying shifted from my weirdness to my weight. The rest of my classmates had shed their baby fat and were lean where I still had a layer of pudge. That's when everything started to turn for the worst. Boys who knew I was crushing on them would sneer and laugh to their friends when I passed them. They'd pretend to like me outside of school just to turn around and shun me once in a group of classmates. Girls looked down on me, snickered when they saw me eating lunch.

Comments started coming from my family through the years too. Things like, 'haven't you eaten enough?' 'You know, everything you put on has to come off.' 'A moment on the lips, forever on the hips.' And, 'do you think you need seconds?'

My mom too, liked to tell me how little she weighed as a teenager. Joked about how her and her friends would compare thigh gaps like it was no big deal. She complained about how much she weighed now that she'd had me even though she still looked like she could be whisked away by a strong breeze. She thought she was helping by telling me maybe I'd have more friends, maybe boys would like me if I lost some weight.

At fifteen I found a website filled with pages and pages of wispy girls who's bones stuck through their skin. Girls who bragged that they had to wear children's clothes because nothing else fit, bragged about the amount of exercise they'd done that day. They shared tips and tricks to curb your hunger, told you if you followed all the rules you too could be beautiful, weightless, like them.

By sixteen, I was one of them. Comparing each days food and exercise with a group of people like me. I finally found my people, my sisters, the ethereal Wintergirls. I fed exclusively off people's compliments and they loved to tell me how much better I looked now. My mom praised my hard work, indulged my diet coke addiction. She was proud to have created a Wintergirl in her image.

Nobody in those groups liked to talk about the negatives. They didn't warn me that becoming one of them wouldn't be glamorous. That it meant constantly freezing, that your body starts growing more hair to keep you warm, that the hair on your head will get thin and lifeless, your nails turn blue and even a light brush will leave bruises on your skin. They didn't tell me that no matter what goals you hit, there would always be another. I wasn't prepared for my life to become consumed by numbers. How many sit ups, how many inches, tracking weight down in a notebook and sobbing if was more than last time. They didn't mention that I'd still hate myself no matter what.

I started swallowing handfuls of pills, secretly hoping that this time it would be enough to poison my liver. I want to go to sleep and not wake up, but I don't know that I want to die. I want to be normal, to eat and not hate myself, but that's not who I am anymore.

I kept waking up, forced to struggle through another day. Started drowning myself in alcohol every night and on the weekends, trying to find something to make me feel again. Some of the more popular girls started talking to me, asking for the secret on how to look as good as I do now, inviting me to parties hoping to get me to spill. I went to the parties but not to spill my secrets. I went for the free alcohol and eventually the drugs that the boys brought.

I had found my usual party group, the people who carried baggies of various things in their pockets. Accepted a baggie from a baby faced jock who smiled when he passed it to me.

"It'll be fun," he whispered in my ear, "trust me."

I looked at the pills for a moment before tossing them into my mouth and taking a swig of my drink to swallow them down.

"Good girl," he praised.

He didn't leave my side, didn't let me leave his sight. He was always there with an arm around me even though I didn't know him. Tempting me with tinted eyes.

This doesn't feel right.

I should have known better.

After a while, I started to feel weird. My limbs felt too heavy to move and I thought I was going to pass out. I leaned heavy into the boys side, not trusting my legs to keep me up anymore.

"It just hit you, didn't it?" He asked, holding me up.

My tongue felt too thick to move, to protest, when he picked me up. Threw me over his broad shoulder and took me back to his house.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you," he soothed.

I struggled to cry out, to push his hands away but he was so much bigger than me, had layers of muscle where I had only bone. His hands were too rough when he grabbed, when he held my wrists in one hand and undressed me with the other.

I tried again to move my legs, to fight him, but nothing worked.

"Relax," he murmured, "I'll make you feel good."

The room faded in and out through eyes blurry with tears. I could feel him. Everywhere. Every inch of me consumed by his warmth. The moments where I could almost grasp clarity were filled with pain.

He wiped a tear from my cheek, his touch tender now when he whispered, "I know you're into it...God, you feel so good."

I didn't wake up again until sometime in the morning. The sun had barely kissed the sky, just enough that the room I was in wasn't pitch black anymore. Just enough light to see that the sheets I was wrapped in were blue, not white. Just enough light to know I didn't know where I was. It took me a moment to realize there was someone else in the bed with me, a large arm wrapped loose around my waist. Tanned skin tight around broad shoulders that I might have felt safe in before. I screwed my eyes shut tight, hoping this was a horrible nightmare. But, when I opened them I was still here. The dark bruises in the shape of his fingers still stuck on my skin, the pain was still there.

I slid out of the bed, biting the inside of my cheek and praying that I could get out of here without him waking up. Apparently the universe thought I deserved this small favor because I was able to find my stuff, get dressed and slip out of his house without anyone seeing me.

Outside, I pulled my phone from my pocket to figure out where I was. I was an hour's walk away from home. By the time I got home...I'd have to get ready for school right away. I sent out a quick text to my group for someone to bring me something strong to get me through the day and started my long walk of shame.

I did the best I could to hide all the bruises under my clothes before going to school. Long sleeves pulled down into my fists, dark leggings, I even layered on a shirt with the tallest neckline I could find. Hid the red circles around my eyes under dark makeup and called it good enough.

I disappeared into the crowd at school, slinking from shadow to shadow like I was hiding from a spotlight. Thankfully, someone answered my text and slipped a baggy into my pocket during a quick hug. I wasted no time swallowing the pills, didn't even question it. I just needed everything to stop.

I only got through my first class without seeing him.

I was at my locker when suddenly I was picked up and spun around. I was too shocked to do anything more than shriek. Hit the ground and spun around to find myself face to face with that same boy. The star of the football team, he was all broad shoulders and a soft, innocent face. He came from money and everybody loved him because of it. But, of course, they didn't know what really lied behind that sweet face.

"Hey babe," he cooed, "missed you this morning. You could have stayed, I would have driven you home."

The breath rushed from my lungs and I was reliving flashes of memories from the night before. Once again trying and failing to fight back. Hearing his voice in my ear.

"Hey, Bryce!" Another jock clapped him on the shoulder, "introduce us to your girlfriend!"

"I..your...what?" I stammered.

"Guys, Ally...Ally, guys," he beamed, pulling me into his side.

The group of them said their hellos, and then quickly disappeared to their own lockers. I shoved him as hard as I could, but I barely moved him an inch. He still had a smile on his face even though his eyebrows had knit with confusion.

"Your girlfriend?" I hissed.

"Well, yeah? I assumed, after last night, y'know?"

"You assumed!"

He lifted his hands defensively, "take it easy, don't need to shout."

I spun and stalked away from him, to a quieter, more secluded corner of the school to try and calm my nerves.

He followed me, practically purring, "trying to find somewhere private for us?"

I stopped, dumbfounded, giving him time to come up behind me and plant a kiss to my neck.

I recoiled, shoving Bryce away and shouting, "get off me!"

"What the fuck is your problem? You gave it up so easy last night and now you're gunna act like a prude?"

"I...I didn't give anything! You took! You drugged me, carried me home when I couldn't walk and had sex with me when I couldn't say no! You raped me!"

"Babe," he started, "come on-"

"No! Don't fucking call me babe, I don't even know you! I'm not your girlfriend! I'm your victim!"

He got in my face, close enough I could feel the heat from his skin, and growled, "fuck you. We could have been something, y'know? I could have given you everything. You asked for the drugs, remember? You're just a fucking whore, using men to get what you want and then dropping them. You wait, I will fucking destroy you."

By the afternoon, everybody had seen the pictures he took of me unconscious and were calling me a whore. Calling me a skeleton, ugly, a tease, a user. Nobody could believe I didn't want it. 'Look at him,' they'd say, 'he's gorgeous. How could you not want him?' Or, 'I'd give anything to have him even look at me and you're complaining?'

--

It only took a couple days before someone approached me outside of my class. Asked if I'd sleep with him if he gave me something.

"Are you serious? You think I'm a prostitute or something? Try being a gentleman and asking a girl on a date, you'd have a better chance."

His eyebrows raised, "you wanna go on a date with me?"

"Not now I don't, shitdick," I scoffed, pushing my way into class.

Later that day, people were saying I'd slept with him anyway.

--

This went on for months. People would approach me asking for sex and when I turned them down, they made up a story and spread it around.

There was one boy...I thought he was different. He said all he wanted was to take me on a date, for me to give him a chance. So I did. I let him take me out for a coffee since I didn't eat in front of anyone. We actually had a good time, he made me laugh for the first time in a long time. For a minute, I felt like maybe I could see a way out of the dark.

Then, our way out of the cafe, I thought I saw a glimpse of Bryce but when I looked again, I didn't see him.

He drove us away from the city, to a secluded area where it was just the two of us. We sat in the back of his car, talking for a while until he brought me close and kissed me. Fingers started to tug at clothing, pulling a noise of protest from my throat.

"I took you out," he murmured, "now be a good girl for me."

I let my mind go blank, let him take what he wanted. Saw Bryce in his place and let a few tears fall silently.

I realized that no matter how good I thought things could be, no matter what I do, Bryce would still be on top of me and I still wouldn't be able to breathe. He'd always be there, sneering that he'd destroy me.

--

Eating was hard. Breathing was hard. Living was the hardest.

I felt like I had started dying the night Bryce took me home. Like everything since then had to have been a fever dream caused by cells deteriorating. Last night had nailed that feeling home. That I was already dead, just stuck in hell.

I showed up at school to see a snickering crowd in front of my locker. 'Whore' was painted across the door along with 'Liar' and 'Dirty Slut'.

Standing at the front of the crowd with a wicked grin on his face was Bryce and the rest of the football team.

He invaded my space, my senses, the heat radiating from his skin threatening to burn me up. The heady cologne he wore, a toxic gas that stole oxygen from my lungs and replaced it with poison.

His voice, low and husky in my ear when he sneered, "nobody believes you. Nobody cares about you. I bet nobody would even care if you were gone," he pulled away just enough to look into my eye, "I win."

I was holding back tears as I tried to retreat from the school, walking as fast as I could to escape the laughter when my arm was caught in someone's hand. I looked up at the girl who grabbed me and recognized her from some of my classes. We weren't really friends but we were close enough to know each other.

"You okay?"

I faked a smile, tried to ignore my voice cracking, "awesome...I'm awesome."

"Hey, screw those assholes, Ally."

I knew she was trying to help, that she thought her words would be enough to break through months of abuse hurled my way.

They weren't.

My shoulders slumped, "haven't you heard? I already did."

I slipped between her fingers and didn't look back.

--

"Whatever happened to chivalry?" Ally sighed, leaning against the wall next to me, "romance? I always wanted a relationship like in those cheesy old movies. You know, where the love interest makes some grand gesture to say they love you? That's what I dreamed of."

I wiped the tears from my face, "Ally.."

She smiled sadly at me, "I always thought I'd find the one when I became perfect. That if I could just be good enough...but that never happened, perfect never came."

@alias-b @charmed-asylum @champagnesugamama