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sol-emers · 1 year

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This story is also on Wattpad and you can find that, a tag list, and a master list is on the pinned post on my account. First three parts are linked below. I make all the gifs except for the one on part one so pls don't steal <33 - wren

Witching Hour

Summary: Twyla Addams and her twin gets sent off to Nevermore school of the supernatural and anything weird- they get exposed to new secrets, a mystery, and budding friendships, and romances.

Warning: murder, torture, kissing, mental illnesses

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TWYLA HAD SEPARATED from her family a while ago,

and had been led to her room by a quiet vampire named Yoko. Who had informed her that later she'd get her schedule after she was given a tour with her sister, via her sisters' new roommate Enid.

Who Wednesday was meeting presently.

Twyla could only imagine how amazing that was going.

Not that Wednesday wasn't a likable sort but- well she wasn't a likable sort.

Twyla was similar to her in that way but had her own personality that somehow attracted the people around her.

It might be because she keeps all- well most of her inner thoughts, in her mind. She doesn't go around challenging everyone around her unless she's in a mood or just protective.

Which is something Wednesday does often.

Twylas room was nice- though plain. She had her own ideas on what to do with it.

It was a spacious, long wooden floor with a nook space up a ladder.

The room did have some windows, though all of them were covered by a blind material that looked really good at keeping light out.

The walls were a grey color, except one which was white. It had a small note stuck with some tape saying 'wall prepped for wallpaper if wanted'

There is also a small bathroom painted white, with a circular mirror and a green tiled shower.

She spent her time looking through the drawers, making plans on what she wanted to do. Paint this wall here, add wallpaper, a rug, a desk, and maybe a couch.

Twyla walked to the last door in the bedroom finding a small closet that she could barely walk into. She swiped her hand across the top shelf only finding dust. It would appear no ones lived here for a while.

Or the last person was just really plain and lazy.

Her new uniform had been set out on the sink tile in the bathroom so she took initiative and changed. Both hers and Wednesday's uniforms had been tailor-made all black and grey.

Seeing as the two girls usually stayed away from color per family tradition.

There was a knock on the door that echoed in the empty room, "um- hi im Enid- im here with your sister, are you ready for the tour?"

Twyla sighed, having been enjoying the quiet. Though Enid sounded nervous and she knew her sister was unsettling.

While she was pretty much the same she figured Enid might have been looking for a type of escape.

Once she gathered the energy she left the green-tiled bathroom and opened up her door, only to see her sister alongside with a bright-colored girl with platinum hair and blue/pink ends.

She was smiling brightly and only faltered a second when she noticed the black and grey uniform, familiar pale gaze, and dark silky strands of hair let loose pin straight with a few strands of hair framing her face.

"Hi im Enid- um

Again im here to take you on your tour, and to get your classes."

Twyla eyed her for a minute. Switching her gaze to her sister right after.

"you sound pleasant," Twyla said almost whimsically, not paying too much attention to the girl and more on how funny it was Wednesday was paired with her.

"I'm Twyla, shall we?"

"yes, of course, let's go!" Enid said walking away already excited.

She took Wednesday and Twyla through all of Ophelia Hall, pointing out which room is who and how each dorm space all had a dorm mom or dad.

Eventually, the three girls had gotten to a staircase that they'd been walking down to what seemed to be the main part of the school.

"Nevermore was founded in 1791, to educate people like us. Outcasts, freaks, monsters,"

Twyla had to admit Enid was pretty good at this whole 'tour guide' thing she had going on.

As they stepped off the staircase Enid turned around and continued talking animatedly while walking backward.

"fill in your favorite marginalized group here."

Despite all her efforts Wednesday still remained unimpressed.

Twyla however hated to say the school (and enid) was growing on her. she mostly hated it in the first place because it was her moms' way of having her and Wednesday following her planned life for them.

It also didn't help they had tacky uniforms and are filled with cliques like every other high school around the world.

But the idea of just being herself here really didn't sound all that bad, plus Enid kinda has this magnetic personality that'll eventually pull you in, even if it takes a while.

Like Twyla figures, it would be that way with Wednesday if they decided to stay.

"you can save the sanitized sales pitch. We don't plan on staying here for long."

So far that didn't seem likely- and wherever Wednesday goes so does Twyla.

"why not?"

"This was our parent's idea," Twyla explained shortly after catching her eye on her mother, front and center in a picture of her and the fencing team.

Wednesday shortly noticed the picture as well, "oh look there's our mother smirking at us. They've been looking for any excuse to send us here."

"It's actually been annoying they keep bringing it up during completely different conversations."

"it's all about their nefarious yet completely obvious plan."

Enid- obviously happy she was getting some sort of gossip was smiling interested, "what plan?"

"to turn the two of us into versions of themselves." Wednesday finished.

Enid however wasn't done, "well in that case perhaps you can clear something up." she left the trophy case we were standing near and started walking head held high as she spoke.

"rumors been swirling around that you two killed a kid at your old school, and your parents pulled strings to get you off."

The twins looked at each other then Wednesday walked ahead, "actually it was two kids." Twyla soon followed, passing Enid as well.

"but who's counting?" she teased.

They walked forward till they reached the quad doors, Twyla who didn't really want to go outside hesitated for a moment before following after her sister, Enid close behind.

Once she caught up, she spread her arms and announced.

"Welcome to the quad."

"It's a Pentagon."

"the whole snarky goth girl thing might have worked for your guys' normie school but here things are different. Twyla, you're doing well though."

Was this a test of some sort?

"let me give you a wiki on Nevermore's social scene."

Enid said as she walked away this time Wednesday closely following after her, "im not interested in participating in tribal adolescent cliches."

"well then use it to fill your obviously bottomless pit of disdain."

Twyla couldn't help but find that funny, even if she didn't show it- she hovered close behind them not speaking much figuring this was a roommate squabble.

"There are many flavors of outcasts here, but the four main cliques are Fangs, Furs, Stoners, and Scales."

We reached a table area where there were obviously the Fangs sipping away at some red drink staring slightly at the three girls.

Enid gestured to them before informing us of what they were

cause it was just so hard to put together that the people drinking blood were the Vampires.

They walked forward some more before Enid announced the werewolves, who she mentioned were her species.

When they reached a stop once more this time Wednesday was able to make the inference, "im assuming scales are sirens?"

"you catch on quick. And that girl Bianca Barclay is the closest thing Nevermore has to royalty. Although her crowns been slipping lately."

She then pointed to a guy painting a mural of a raven on one of the school walls, "she used to date our resident tortured artist, Xavier Thorpe. But they broke up at the beginning of the semester. Reason unknown."

Twylas eyes caught Xavier's figure once he turned around slightly- and while she wasn't into the whole 'I've liked you from the moment I saw you' bullshit she had to admit he was a very pretty boy.

"fascinating."

"I know right? My vlog is, like, the number one source for Nevermore Gossip."

"oh well that makes sense considering your so good at it." snarked Twyla from beside Wednesday, slightly realizing she and Wednesday shouldn't have told her anything.

Seeing as she was kinda a gossip queen who probably shouldn't be trusted.

Twyla made a note of that in her head.

"Yo, Enid! You're not gonna believe the dirt I heard about your new roommate and her twin. They eat human flesh. And one of them is a ghost. And they totally chowed down on that kid they murdered. You better watch your back on that tour later."

Enid petrified, with her eyes wide, just stepped back revealing Twyla and Wednesday.

"quite the contrary. We actually fillet the body of our victims, then feed them to our menagerie of pets."

"They like the flesh with a little bit of lemon and paprika- kinda like fish. And im, not a ghost that would require me being dead."

He just stood there awkwardly as the realization sunk in that this was the tour.

"Ajax, this is my new roommate and her sister, Wednesday and Twyla."

"whoa- you two are in black and white."

Gesturing to Enid, "like a living Instagram filter-"

"ignore him. Gorgons spend way too much time getting stoned. He's cute but clueless."

Twyla wondered for a second if she was being literal- were they actually stoning themselves or were they getting stoned. By like smoking.

If so she may just have to make some Gorgan friends.

"it's a small school. There wasn't much online about you two. You know you should really get on isn't a snap and TikTok."

"I find social media to be a soul-sucking void of meaningless affirmation."

Then she walked away, Twyla almost did too but turned around last second.

"I don't mind social media just never really bothered with it- maybe you could teach me sometime?"

Twyla figured that trusting the gossip queen was a horrible idea- being friends with her couldn't.

She has access to all the gossip in the school and considering she was considering staying awhile, that wasn't a bad resource to have.

Enid lit up and smiled, ready to make Twyla her new bestie.

"oh im sooo down, maybe some weekend we could catch a bus to the weathervane over in Jerico and we can go over it then?"

"I'd love that," Twyla said with a straight face, before swiftly turning around and following her sister down the halls and back to the entrance doors where her family was waiting, already saying goodbye to Wednesday.

Pugsley's face lit up as he saw her and ran from staring at his sister to his other sister.

He smiled sadly at her waiting until she opened her arms to jump in them.

"I don't know what im going to do without you twi."

"oh- you'll survive."

She repeated and took his face in her gloved hands, "and if you don't, I swear on mom I will bring you back to life. Just to force you in a room with ten hungry lions."

He gulped slightly when during her threat her eyes melted from the brown iris and the rest of the white to a deep black which smoked out like a shadow- because well it was a shadow.

He nodded a few times sadly before rushing to Lurch to stay put till it was over since the sensitive boy knew if he stayed any longer he would cry.

Her dad walked towards her arms out, he grabbed her shoulder and head with each hand and said, "oh look at you my little poltergeist you'll fit right in im sure."

His goodbye however was cut off when Morticia cut in and asked to just speak to Twyla alone now that she was done with Wednesday.

He nodded understanding and kissed Twyla's head before heading to Pugsley who was waiting as well.

Her mother stalked forward, her beautiful gown dragging against the stone ground before she reached her daughter.

Once she got to Twyla. She reached out and grabbed her forearms shaking her head.

"Oh my darling Twyla, I've told you this a million times but im just going to tell you this last time. Ever since I was going here, with my twin I had dreams of showing my daughter this school- seeing her with her uniform and sending her off to one of the most terrible places I've ever been in. Then My Twyla died, and I just knew.

When I had you I looked into your eyes and I just knew. You are going to be exceptional at this school. And I hope you'd be open to friends, and falling in love."

Twyla stayed silent, keeping her composure.

Dammit, she was supposed to be mad at this woman.

"we'll see."

Morticia cleared her throat smiling softly at the ground before looking back up at her daughter "I got you something. As a little goodbye present."

She revealed a small velvet bag shed been holding in her hand this entire time and held it out to Twyla.

Twyla hesitantly took the bag and open it letting a necklace fall out delicately into her gloved palm.

It was a smoky quartz and shaped like a flower,

"This used to belong to your grandmother, she gave it to my twin who eventually was buried with it. I dug it up for you my darling, I hope you go through your school days and cherish it like I know she did. And maybe give it a different ending this time and don't die on me?"

Her dark eyes filled with tears, she reached out and grabbed her daughter's face and smiled tearily, "your sister has your crystal ball. I gave it to her, call if you ever need anything and I mean anything. Though there's no contact the first week- so ill call you two next Sunday.

She smiled one more time at the two before clutching her hands and walking to the car.

Wednesday walked up next to Twyla after and they watched the car drive off.

pls don't be a silent reader and tell me what y'all think 😭😭😭 and tell me do u guys want Enid with Wednesday or Ajax. Cause I personally like both same with Wednesday and xaiver, I kinda liked Tyler at first but then he got toxic and then turned into the hyde so ya know.

Twyla's face claim is Cindy Kimberly. She is who will show up in all my gifs and who is on the cover of the story on wattpad, though you all may imagine her as you wish.

Taglist: @itscheybaby @ahahanofanks

Part one, two, three:

Thanks for reading, see you soon!

- wren

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monratarot · 3 days

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hi! My birthday is July 21, 1998, my initials are a b and my specific event is an online friend seemingly distancing themselves from me.

I have known this friend since November of last year and we have had a collaborative creative project together for about as long. We used to talk EVERY DAY!!!!! Constant excitement, hanging off each other like monkeys. Now its changed. They seem like they reply to my messages out of obligation, they "jokingly" shoo me

They finally did their side of it again after 4 months (so this month), after constantly saying they would do it and not doing it. Im not sure if they actually want to be there. Since about mid February they have been acting increasingly distant and weird with me. They no longer appear to have enthusiasm for me when i contribute or create things for them. They will sometimes,at least once a week actually acknowledge me, but its a crap-shoot and inconsistent. I care about this person and their best interest but it doesn't appear like it’s reciprocated. I'm not sure if its in my head or if I did something, but I'm also tired of being uncertain. Not being impulsive and cutting things off with them has really paid off though. My question would be what do I need to know about my "friendship" with this individual?

Hello, dear @epimetheeos! Thank you for your request. I hope that my reading will help you and bring clearance to your situation.

Feedback is very much appreciated and if you consider tipping me, you can do so on my ☕️ko-fi.

Count of questions/requests and answers 6/15.

Without wasting any time, let's get into your reading!'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

Tarot free readings rule⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Tarot payed readings rules 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒₊˚*ੈ🎀⸝⸝🍓✩‧₊˚

I can see that the energy is pretty weird over here in your situation. I see that now is a time for yourself, a time when you should meditate or pray, a period when you should focus on your studies. There is some weird sign that you are acting like a parent with this person and that you really want to communicate but you don't get what you need…I have a lot of signs that you need to focus on your education, join a new study group or learn a new skill. nurture your talents. So for the moment I think there needs to be a time when you should focus on you. But, later I can see that you will overcome obstacles and this will happen only if you are direct with your person. There can be some miscommunication between you two so if you tell them directly that you want to communicate I think things can change. Keep in mind that it's not a bad thing to have some time to focus on yourself and to have a little space for each other. Stability and renewal is on the way and also lots of communication. You will soon have positive news but when you will communicate with them keep in mind that you don't need to say yes to everything only to keep this connection alive. I think that after this period when you have focused on yourself things will start to be put again on motion. Again, I have signs that you need to speak directly and there will be a long time journey for your connection. They feel like you are a special friend for them it's just maybe they want to be sure you want to be friend with them? Like they want to see if you are going to put more effort in this connection this time. Truth will come to surface so it's better to have your discussion as soon as possible. After, both of you will gain clarity. You can even have a brilliant idea in order to repair your friendship. But you must make a decision or a decision will be made for you(probably they will think that you aren't interested in your friendship anymore). You must know that there can be some drama and confrontation but you will find a middle ground in the end. There are immediate change to your circumstances for the better. So I think that they want you to work more for this connection(you know if this is ok or not) and that's why they are so quiet. When you will discuss there can be some weird little stuff that they can tell you, just be direct and talk about big and important thing. You need to be the bigger person in this situation and everything will be fine. Angel message: Life is full of changes and surprise. Your guidance is to move with the current, for it is resisting the flow which creates problems. Ask your angels to help you open your mind and heart to new ideas and fresh options. When you accept the possibility that there are other ways, previously unseen doorways will be opened to you and you will move easily through change. There is a solution to every problem, so look at all things with eyes of love and expectation. Then life force will flow freely through you.

Affirmation: I am free and flexible. Wish you only the best!🍀

Moni🧚‍♀️

#tarot witch #tarotcommunity #tarotblr #tarot community #tarot #tarot reading #daily tarot #moni tarot #tarot cards #tarot deck #free tarot game #free tarot readings #tarot free reading #free tarot reading

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jess-oh · 3 months

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day 2

okay! day 2 back to journaling! it is thursday and i am so excited that i finally get to sleep in and just chill out tomorrow! this week was pretty busy and sometimes a little rough but im almost at the end!! yes!!!

i had dinner with elizabeth at honeymoon cafe today and bc i could tell she was so tired, i wanted to cut our convo short so she could go ahead and sleep at home. but we did briefly talk about our spiritual lives at the end and i mentioned how i started journaling again and reread some old posts. it really is so interesting to see where my mind was just a couple years ago. thats such a long time but also doesnt seem that long ago?

I'm 25 years old, almost 26, and at a point where I'm feeling a bit frustrated and at a crossroads. I think I want something to change but I don't yet know in what capacity or exactly how. God, I do really want to pray for guidance from you. I'm still feeling pretty stressed out about my parents' current income status and I also just don't want to have to worry so much about money for myself. I'd like to be able to help Grace out more often or at least to pad her budget enough so she doesn't have to take on 2 jobs. I want her to feel financial freedom and independence and be able to live her own life apart from her mother. i know she feels a sense of responsibility and obligation but i just know she could be doing something so much more fulfilling with her life, instead of feeling as stagnant as she does now. I want her to be abel to have a life like how i've been able to have one of my own.

I want to be able to take staycations or travel multiple times during the year without worrying so much about whether or not I can actually afford to do so. Paying to repair my car was a huge chunk out of my bank account and I really just want to tighten my budget back up again to get my savings up enough to hit my 6 month rainy day fund, extra money for travel, enough money to tithe 10% again, be able to elevate my apartment whenever i want and not having to plan it out so far in advanced, to be able to eat out multiple times a week without going so far over budget(even if i do prefer to cook at home), pay off another one of my loans and generally just get that out of the way in less than 10 years, support my sister's education, be able to get gifts for both family and friends with ease, and finally, to support my parents financially in a meaningful way. it wouldnt even be worth it to send them a measly $10 a month but if i could really make an impact in helping pay off their mortgage or something... or treat them for all their meals whenever i or they visit... that would be really nice. i just want to be a "good" role all around. a "good" daughter, a "good" friend, a "good" sister, etc.

I really aspire to be at Chloe Shih's status of financial stability. I want to be a sugar sis and a sugar friend and a good daughter. I just cant do that yet and if I stay at Freeosk, even though it is really stable and reliable, i wont be able to do that for a really long time. But if i switch jobs, even if it still is in graphic design, i could do that a lot sooner. My goal is to make 6 figures by 30 which is certainly ambitious but especially if I go into UX Design and get a job on the west coast, it feels possible. I just have to negotiate well and excel at my job.

God, I do really think I'm interested in UX Design but also recognize I still have more research to do before fully committing. Actually adding practical case studies to my portfolio would certainly help. Please show me a sign or guide me toward UX Design or a new path entirely. I just know that I feel okay about my current job but know I could excel so much more at something else. I'm just not sure exactly what yet but I would really like to know.

I want to grow as a person and in my identity in Christ. I really do want to get back to you and incorporating you into my life again. It's just going to take a little bit of time before I'm able to get back into the swing of things.

Thank you for all that you have done for me and bringing me to this place and this time in my life now. I really didn't think I would make it this far many times but you've remained so faithful to me in my life and I just want to be faithful to you once more, God. I don't want to feel ashamed of my faith or insecure or self-conscious. I just want to be comforted and feel safe when I'm with you.

Thank you God.

I pray this all in your name,

Amen.

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tobesolonely · 4 years

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kindergarten teachers

summary: teacher!harry and coworker y/n have a hard time coming to terms with their feelings for each other

a/n: ahhh she’s finally done! i’ve been working on this fic for sooo long and i hope u all like it! big thanks to @queencharry for helping me when i got stuck and beta reading, and @behindthatbabyface for beta reading as well and giving me feedback!! i appreciate u both <3 enjoy ~11.3k words of some mutual pining and teacher!h interacting with lil kindergarteners 🥺also i am sorry if theres any major grammar mistakes (as always) or crazy typos, i always miss some things when i go back and proofread that im sure i’ll catch later! thank u

warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol

talk to me about harry and y/n! let me know your thoughts!!

my ko-fi! thank you :)

From the time you were very young, you knew you wanted to be a teacher. One of your earliest childhood memories was going to school dressed up as one for career day. Your usually untamed hair was pulled back into a sleek bun (courtesy of your mother), and you donned a funky baby-pink sweater. For bottoms, you wore the closest thing to a pencil skirt you had in your five-year-old wardrobe. When you look back on the photographs your mother took of you that day, you did not resemble a teacher in any way. You were sure if you had not done your Career Day presentation in front of the whole class, no one would have even known who you were dressed up as.

Once you moved onto college and declared Education as a major, that was when people really started to let you hear their opinions on the career path you wanted to pursue. It seemed like whenever you went home for a holiday, relatives were always in your ear saying, “You know teachers don’t make a lot of money, right? Have you ever considered something in the sciences?”. You always responded, “I know, but what would the world do without teachers?”.

Eventually, you finished your undergraduate career, successfully completed student teaching with the highest praise from your superiors and colleagues, obtained your teaching credentials, and even went back to school to get your Master’s degree. So, it was much to everyone’s surprise when you settled on being a Kindergarten teacher. People assumed that because you completed so much schooling, you wanted to be a university professor. However, the thought never even crossed your mind. You always thought Kindergarten teachers were the most impressionable people out there and knew you wanted to be one.

To you, there was no greater responsibility than that of a Kindergarten teacher. It was your responsibility to teach your students reading, writing, art, and music at the most basic level. You showed them how to play with others, how to be kind, and give them the tools necessary to succeed once they leave your classroom. You were the first teacher your students ever had, so you needed to make them fall in love with school instead of hate it, considering they’d have to stick to it until they were at least eighteen.

You’ve been a credentialed Kindergarten teacher for the last three years, and you’ve loved every moment of it. You were one of the younger teachers at school, but you never felt left out. Your colleagues were amazing people who often shared tips and tricks they wish they knew when they first started teaching.

Now, you were groggily unlocking the door to your classroom, feeling those first-day-of-school jitters you always felt. You knew kindergarteners weren’t there to harshly critique you. Still, you wanted them to go home and tell their parents about how excited they were to have you as a teacher, not run home in tears. That never happened, of course, but you didn’t want to take any chances. You drop your keys and mutter a quiet, “Shit!” setting your travel mug filled with coffee on the ground and readjust the box of donuts you had for your kids on your hip. As you reach for your keys, you hear a deep voice ask if you need help. You quickly turn around, eyes wide from being startled.

“Oh! You scared me,” you place your free hand over your chest. “But yeah, actually, that’d be great. I’m struggling to get my door open.” The man nods, his own keys he wore around his neck jangling as he retrieves first your keys, then your coffee mug.

“I’m Harry– Mr. Styles, if you want,” he holds your keys out for you to take, your coffee mug still in his large hands. “Uh, I’m the new Kindergarten teacher.” You give him a confused look and trade the box of donuts in your arms for your keys, opening the door. “The last one, Mrs. Brown, I think it was, I guess she decided a few weeks back that she wanted to retire.” You get your door open and walk inside your classroom, turning on the lights. It was a little stuffy, considering you hadn’t been there to open any windows in about a month.

“Oh, that’s right! Welcome,” you give him a warm smile. “I’m Y/N– Miss Y/L/N if you want.” A slight blush appears on his cheeks. “We’re gonna be working together then, it seems. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Mrs. Brown, but it’ll be nice to collaborate with someone closer to my age, you know?” Harry nods, and you realize he still had your coffee mug and box of donuts in his hands. “You can just set that on my desk, thanks for helping out. Would you like a donut?”

“Um, I- it’s okay,” he stammers, setting the items down. “Sorry, it’s just that I’ll probably crash if I have a donut first thing in the mornin’.” You smile at him and move to open all your windows and the back door, wanting the stuffy classroom to air out a bit before the children got here.

“I totally get that,” you giggle, walking back over to your desk. “Are you excited about the first day? I always get a little nervous. I also talk a lot when I’m nervous, I’m sure you caught onto that.”

For the first time that morning, Harry laughs. “Yeah, I’m nervous, too. ’ve never taught in the States before, so this is a bit new to me.” He’s playing with the keys hanging from his lanyard.

“I noticed you had an accent, but I didn’t know if it was weird to ask about it. What brings you to California?” You open the box of donuts and take one out, wanting to eat it before it gets cold, and the glaze hardens.

“Uh, I went to University here, but when I graduated, I decided to go back home and teach for a couple of years. I really missed being here though and wanted to come back, so I got my credentials, and uh, here I am,” he tells you with a grin, and you notice he has deep dimples.

“Well, we’re glad you’re here,” you tell him earnestly. “The kids are just gonna love your accent, too!” you joke and Harry laughs for the second time that day.

“If all else fails, ’m hopin’ to charm everyone over with my accent,” he stares at you for a moment before speaking again. “Well, I better finish getting situated. It’s fifteen til, and I reckon the children will be arriving soon, yeah?” He asks. You nod.

“Best to be waiting at parent drop-off too, there are always a few parents that are just as nervous as their babies, if not more, and could use a quick pep talk.”

“Thanks for lettin’ me know. I was thinking about standing out there anyway, just to make a good first impression.” You take another bite of your donut, giving him a thumbs up.

“You’ve got this, Harry. I know you’re not completely clueless since you’ve taught before, but I know the first day can be a little intimidating. You know where I am if you need anything.” He gives you a grateful smile, quietly thanking you before turning to walk out the door. You’re left thinking about your new coworker, only being pulled from your thoughts of him when the first bell rings.

“Good morning everyone, my name is Miss Y/L/N. Are you all excited to get this school year started?” A chorus of high-pitched yeses fills the room, and you smile warmly at your class. “I’m so excited that you’re all here! I have a little surprise for each of you!” You grab the box of donuts and walk back to the rug in the center of the room that the children usually sat on for storytime. Little gasps fill your ears, and they all say, “Donuts!” and “Yummy!”. You smile at the kids again, already feeling overwhelmed with how adorable they were.

“We all get a donut?” one little girl asks, her eyes wide. You nod at her.

“Of course! Everyone will get a donut, sweetie.” You move to get the plastic food gloves you kept so you can safely hand out a donut to everyone. “Okay guys, I’m going to pass a stack of napkins around the room. Take one and pass the stack to the person sitting next to you. Does that make sense?” All the students nod their heads in confirmation, so you grab a stack and hand them to the child sitting closest to you. “Once the last person has their napkin, let me know, and then it’ll be donut time!” You say this over-enthusiastically, and the children squirm in their seats in excitement.

As you go around handing out donuts to each of your students, you learn their names and ask them to tell you one fun fact about them. Most children say things like, “I have a brother/sister!” or “I can run really fast!”, and you find it absolutely adorable. One thing you loved the most about teaching five-year-olds was their ability to think everything was cool. It was comforting to know that no matter what you did, they’d find you cool, and your first-day jitters quickly dissipated. As the children eat their donuts, you read them a story, putting on different voices for all the various characters. You show them how to raise their hand when they have something they’d like to share and remind them to use their “listening ears” when you or one of their classmates are speaking.

When it’s time for recess, you show them how to line up quietly at the door, and assign a line leader and a hall monitor. You remind the children that they will all get a turn at these tasks eventually because it’ll switch every week, and not to worry. As you’re walking down the hall backward (one of your teachers walks that you’d finally perfected), you hear Harry’s voice.

“Okay Room Ten, we’re gonna go out to the playground now, where you all will get to play every recess and lunch. That sounds like fun, doesn’t it?” He asks them, and you hear little voices chattering out to him in excitement. You can’t help but peek into his classroom as you walked by, as his door was open. He didn’t see you because he was busy organizing his class into a straight line, so you keep going. Your class, who, much to your surprise, was walking very quietly, got loud once they saw the Kindergarten play area had a slide and monkey bars.

“We get to play on this?” one of your students, Destiny, questions.

“Yup! This is a pretty cool play area, isn’t it?” They nod and stare at you, waiting for direction. “Oh, you can all go play and run around, get some of that energy out. When the bell rings, though, I want you to listen to the yard teachers because they’re gonna help get you all lined back up so we can go back inside. Deal?” The children give you nods and thumbs up, and you grin at them, telling them to have fun and be nice to one another. As you’re turning to go to the teacher’s lounge to refill your mug of coffee, you see Harry walking down the hallway with his class, and decide to wait for him. He gives his class the same spiel you gave yours and tells them to “Treat each other with kindness” before noticing you waiting for him.

“Hey,” he gives you a grin, looking far more relaxed than he did when you saw him earlier that morning. “How’s it going so far?”

“It’s great,” you reply, leading him in the direction of the teacher’s lounge. “They’re all adorable.”

“Yeah, don’t know what I was so nervous fo’. They’re great. Also, you’re right,” Harry has an amused look on his face. “The first thirty minutes of ’em bein’ there was just them askin’ me to say things because they think I sound funny.”

“I told you!” you exclaim, laughing at him. “A British accent is definitely not something we hear every day, not here at least.”

“I figured,” he replies, and silence falls between you. “Where are we going, by the way?”

You stop in front of a blue door and sift through the keys on your lanyard, finally finding the one you were looking for. “Teacher’s lounge. Have you had the chance to check it out yet?” He shakes his head, and you pull open the door after having unlocked it. “After you.” He shakes his head and steps back, signaling you go ahead of him. You quirk an eyebrow at him, and he gives you a defensive look.

“What? ‘M a gentleman. Ladies first,” he insists, holding the door open. You walk inside the room, trying to refrain from rolling your eyes. There aren’t many teachers in the lounge. You figure they all must be in their classrooms, trying to do some last-minute organization and lesson planning amidst the first day of school chaos. However, a few colleagues that you’re rather fond of are in the room, so you take it upon yourself to introduce them to Harry.

“Hello everyone, I hope you’re all having a relaxing morning!” They chuckle lightly at your sarcasm. “I’d like you all to meet Mr. Harry Styles. He’s the new Kindergarten teacher that took Mrs. Brown’s place.” A look of realization washes over all three teachers’ faces, and they warmly greet him. Harry goes around, shaking each of their hands, voice dripping with charm.

“Lovely to meet you all. Looking forward to collaborating,” he tells them quietly. They begin engaging in polite conversation, so you leave Harry’s side, walking over to the coffee station to get what you came for before recess was over. He joins you shortly after, grabbing a disposable cup. “They were a nice bunch.” He mutters, pouring the steaming coffee into his cup. You hum in agreement.

“Everyone here is nice. The lounge is usually much more crowded than this. Everyone else must be in their rooms,” you flick your wrist up to check the time. “We got some time to sit down and breathe for a bit if you’d like? Unless you wanted to get back to your room.”

“‘M in no rush, trust me,” he tells you, flashing you a small smile. “Let’s take a seat.” Harry walks over to an unoccupied couch and sits down slowly, taking care not to spill his coffee.

“You didn’t want a lid?” you question when you see him struggling. He shrugs.

“Not necessary. Jus’ some extra plastic,” you hum and look down at your lap. You were quickly learning that Harry was not a big talker, and he liked to get his point across in as few words as possible. Him being a Kindergarten teacher contradicted heavily with his rather bashful demeanor, but that just made him all the more endearing to you.

“Do you live nearby, or is your commute long?” you ask him after a few moments of silence. As soon as you ask the question, you internally cringe, feeling like it was too invasive. If Harry thought the question was weird, he doesn’t show it.

“I live in town. I actually walked here today, believe it or not,” he tells you with a chuckle. “Was such a beautiful morning that I figured I should.” Every time you think Harry can’t possibly get any more captivating, he does, and you find yourself biting back a smile.

“How long is your walk?” You cross your legs and then uncross them, a nervous habit that you had. Harry takes a sip of coffee, mulling your question over.

“I’d say it took me about twenty minutes. I was walkin’ at a pretty leisurely pace, though,�� Harry shrugs. “How about you? Do you live nearby?”

“I also live in town, but I’m way too lazy to walk, so props to you,” you smile. “The best thing about living around here is seeing your kids out in public. It’s the cutest thing.” Harry smiles, not saying anything else. A silence falls over the two of you again but instead of feeling the need to fill it, you just sit beside him, drinking your coffee. Your mind wanders off to what you were going to do for the rest of the school day, if you had enough groceries in your apartment for dinner or if you should go grocery shopping after work, and if you remembered to pay your bills on time. The bell rings to signify the end of recess, and you jump slightly.

“Ready to go back?” Harry asks, standing up and walking back over to the coffee station. “Think’m gonna get a bit more.” You go to stand by the door, waiting for him to pour another cup of coffee. He quickly rejoins you, and the coffee sloshes a bit, some getting on his hand, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Hope those lil’ buggers got some of their energy out.”

“Right! Mine was even more hyper than they probably would’ve been ’cause I gave them those donuts this morning,” you laugh. “So, for my sake, I hope so too.” When you and Harry arrive back at the Kindergarten play area, your classes are already lined up quietly awaiting instruction, thanks to the yard teachers. You and Harry both thank them and move to stand in front of your kids.

“Miss Y/L/N,” one of your children calls out from the back of the line. “Can we get more donuts when we go back inside?” You see Harry smile out of the corner of your eye as he’s giving instruction to his class.

“There are no more donuts, you guys ate them all! I have something even cooler than donuts planned for us, though, okay? Now, remember what I told you all about walking quietly, right? Mr. Line Leader, how does your line look? Do you think we’re all set to go back inside?” The child you appointed line leader turns around to look at everyone, occasionally shushing some people. After a few moments, he turns back to you, giving you a thumbs up.

Harry moves to stand beside you, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Wanna eat lunch together and do some planning? I feel like it would be a good idea for us to be teachin’ the same things, more or less.” Your body feels warm all over, and you just look at him and nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Harry smiles and places a hand on your shoulder. At a normal volume, he says, “See you then, Miss Y/L/N.”

Upon entering Harry’s room, you’re immediately met with the scent of vanilla and the loud hum of the air conditioning. It was bright, adorably decorated, and surprisingly decluttered. It was the polar opposite of your room, and you found it very welcoming and comforting. “Nice set-up you’ve got going on in here,” you tell him. He jumps in his seat at his desk, not having heard you come in.

“Fucks sake,” he mumbles, face going red. “You scared me. Thanks, though. My sister helped me decorate, I don’t really have an eye for this type of stuff.” He rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly.

“Well, if you ever need any help decorating for back to school and your sister isn’t around, I’d be more than happy to help.” Harry smiles and suddenly gets up from his chair, offering it to you.

“Please, take my seat. I’ll just sit in one of the kids’ chairs,” he rolls it towards you, and you shake your head, about to object, but he interrupts you. “It’s okay, Y/N. Their chairs aren’t that bad.” You take the seat Harry was just in, mumbling a quiet thank you. He hums and pulls a tiny chair up beside you, legs scraping loudly across the floor. When he sits down in it, you can’t but burst out laughing.

“Harry, that chair is so tiny! Are you sure you don’t want me to sit there instead? You look so uncomfortable,” you tell him in between laughs. “This is your classroom, after all, I’m just a guest.” Harry shakes his head, cheeks flushed.

“It’s okay, Y/N, really. ‘M perfectly comfortable in this lil’ miniature chair,” he looks at the lunch bag you sat on his desk. “What’s for lunch?” You reach for your sack and unzip it, pulling out a pre-packaged salad from Trader Joe’s.

“I’m very lazy when it comes to packing my lunches,” you admit sheepishly, pulling out a fork. “How about you? Did you eat already?”

“Oh yeah, I had a green smoothie. Not a big lunch guy,” he replies calmly. “Wanna get started with planning? I think we only have about thirty minutes left.” He looks down at his watch to confirm the time. Harry opens his planner, and you see pages filled with his neat, blocky scrawl. He jumps right into talking about the ideas he had in mind, excitement filling his voice that you haven’t yet heard.

The passion and enthusiasm he has for teaching are evident through the way he tells you about the activities he has planned, new materials and teaching methods he wants to try implementing, and things he’s tried before that didn’t work out the way he wanted them to. He asks you for your advice and listens intently when you speak, jotting down notes.

You find yourself having to mentally remind yourself not to stare at him. He was a handsome man– there was no denying that. He had curly brown hair, soft and wild-looking, the most beautiful green eyes you’d ever seen, and arms covered in tattoos. You also noticed he had the tiniest cross on his left hand. You wanted to ask him about it, but you figured that was a conversation for another time.

“Y/N? Did you hear what I just said,” Harry asks, giving you a concerned look. “Are you alright? I think you just zoned out for a couple minutes or somethin’.” You nod quickly, feeling your palms growing sweaty.

“Oh yeah, sorry, I was just thinking about something I have to do later. What did you just say?” You play off how you were just wholly drooling over your new coworker, feeling scrutinized under his piercing gaze.

“Jus’ got an email from the principal. Said we have a faculty meetin’ after school at three. Wanna go together?” He asks. You know Harry’s asking you to accompany him primarily because you’re the only person he really knows so far. However, it still makes you feel warm and special. “He said we’re gonna go over some planning for the Fall Festival. What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s just the back-to-school festival. It’s adorable,” you explain. “It’s like a mini carnival that we have right here on the playground. Every year they have teachers host booths. It’s a great way to get to meet your kids’ parents and bond with the other faculty.” Harry nods, standing up from the tiny chair right as the bell signifying the end of lunch rings.

“That sounds lovely,” he chirps, smiling down at you. “We’re gonna have the best booth out of everyone Y/N, trust me.” He jokes, the corner of his eyes crinkling. This was the most Harry had talked since you met him that morning and you were enjoying witnessing him open up to you more and more with each conversation shared.

“It is,” you stand up as well, gathering your trash and empty lunch pail. “Thanks for having me, Harry. Next time we can meet in my room. I wouldn’t mind making this a daily thing.” As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you physically wince, figuring Harry had to think you were obsessed with him at this point. He looks down, the corners of his mouth upturned when he makes eye contact with you again.

“I’d like that, Y/N. I’ll actually start bringin’ a proper lunch, so you’re not the only one eating,” you smile. “I’ll meet you in your room after school?” You nod in confirmation, walking out the door in front of him.

“See ya later.”

“Did everyone have a good day today?” You ask your class, walking backward to the dismissal gate. You’re met with a chorus of cheerful sounding ‘yeses,’ and you place your hand over your heart in a dramatic fashion. “That makes me so happy, everyone! You’re all incredible little people, and I think we’re gonna have a fantastic year. What do you guys think?” The children chatter excitedly, glad to have made it through their first day of school and see their parents on the other side of the gate eagerly awaiting them, cell phones snapping pictures.

Harry’s already at the gate, waiting for the bell to ring so he can dismiss his class. He’s walking down the line asking each of the children if they see who they’re supposed to go home with, crouching down to their height so they can point them out to him. Some children in his class look a little upset because they don’t see their parents yet. Harry quickly consoles them, telling them they can all play a fun game together while they wait for their ‘Mummies and Daddies.’

You do the same with your kids, and by the time the bell rings and you finish dismissing the ones who saw someone there to pick them up, there was one child from your class who was still waiting and two from Harry’s. He walks over to you, one of their tiny hands in each of his. The boy looks unbothered, but the girl was beginning to cry.

“Hey, Ava, should we ask Miss Y/L/N and her friend if they want to play iSpy with us? The more, the merrier, isn’t that right?” He looks down at her, and she nods, looking down. You figure she’s one of his more shy students he was telling you about earlier.

“Hi, sweetie! I’m Miss Y/L/N, are you waiting for your mom or dad?” She nods, biting her lip. You turn and gesture to your one student who was waiting as well. “Well, so is she! Don’t worry, they’ll be here.”

“I’m Matthew,” the little boy holding Harry’s other hand informs you, shifting from foot to foot. You give him a big smile.

“Hello, Matthew! I love your Spiderman shirt; he’s just the coolest. Jade, do you want to introduce yourself to Mr. Styles, Ava, and Matthew? Remember when we learned about introductions today in class? When you got to introduce yourself to all your classmates?”

Jade nods, a big, toothy grin on her face. “Hi! My name is Jade, and I am five-years-old but my birthday is September 19th, so I’m actually almost six-years-old,” she tells them matter-of-factly. “It’s very nice to meet you!” She adds, remembering the script you gave them earlier. Harry looks down at her, an impressed look on his face.

“Well, it is very lovely to meet you too, Jade! Do we all know how to play iSpy?” Jade and Matthew shout in excitement, but Ava just grips tighter onto Harry’s hand. He looks down at her again. “Do y’ want Miss Y/L/N and I to show you how to play, Ava?” His voice is very quiet, slow, and soothing. She nods, letting go of his hand.

“Well Ava,” you say, looking around for something to start the game out with. “I would say, “I spy with my little eye something green. Then you, Mr. Styles, Matthew, and Jade, would have to look around and name out everything that’s green. If you name something and it’s not it, then I will tell you nope, and you can try again, but if you figure it out, then you’re the winner! Does that make sense?”

She nods, and you see a gleam of excitement in her eyes. “Can I go first?” She asks quietly. You tell her, yes, and she looks around quickly, trying to find something to say. “I spy with my little eye something blue!” She has a triumphant smile on her face, and even though you immediately know she’s talking about the sky and you’re sure Harry does too, you both decide to take a step back and let the children take the game into their own hands.

“Y’know, that lil’ introduction Jade gave was really somethin’. I didn’t even think about teachin’ my kids that. Think I’ll try that out tomorrow,” Harry whispers, craning his neck slightly to be at your ear. You shiver at the feeling of his warm breath against your skin.

“Yeah, I feel like that’s always a good first day of school activity for them to do. A lot of them have never really been exposed to people outside of their immediate family, so they’re not too sure how to talk to others.” Harry hums, standing back up straight.

“Mr. Styles,” Matthew calls, running over to Harry. “My mommy is here. Can I go now?” Harry nods, telling Matthew to wait for him so he can say hi to his mother. You watch as he walks away, overhearing as he tells the boy’s mother what a great job he did today and how he’s so excited to go through this school year with him in his class. Ten minutes later, Jade and Ava are gone as well, and Harry locks the dismissal gate.

“I forgot how exhausting the first day could be,” he tells you, letting out a quiet sigh. “Ready to go to that meeting, though? It’s just about three.” You check your watch and see the time read at 2:57 PM.

“Yeah, just let me grab my bag, and we can head over there. I’m really hoping this won’t take too long; I was planning on going grocery shopping after this,” you walk down the hall towards your classroom and feel Harry’s gaze on you.

“Where do you like to go grocery shopping?” he asks after a few moments of silence. “I need to pick up some groceries this week, too. ’ve been eatin’ takeout for the past week, and I’m starting to feel like shit.” You laugh, unlocking your door. Harry stands outside, holding it open while you grab your purse and lunch bag.

“Honestly, I don’t have a preference. I switch it up a lot,” you shrug, making sure all the windows are closed before walking out. “Was there something, in particular, you were looking for?”

“Uh,” Harry scratches the back of his head. “No? Maybe you could text me a list of all your favorite stores, though. Jus’ so I won’t forget.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him, ignoring how fast your heart was beating. “Are you asking for my number, Mr. Styles?”

“I guess I am,” he replies nonchalantly. “We’re gonna be workin’ together a lot. Might as well have your number– if that’s okay, I mean.” He looks down at you.

“Yeah, remind me after the meeting,” you tell him, trying your hardest to play it cool. “Don’t let me forget.”

“Trust me, I won’t.”

“So Y/N and Harry, you two will be in charge of the pumpkin decorating booth? Is that right?” The principal looks down at his notes and then shifts his gaze between the both of you. You both nod.

“Yeah, I’m excited! I think it’ll be a lot of fun,” you reply excitedly. “We can go to the craft store and get a bunch of paints, but where do you think the best place to get the pumpkins would be?” You pull out your planner, ready to jot down any suggestions.

“You two could try going to a pumpkin patch? They’re starting to pop-up around town,” one teacher suggests. “I’m sure if you purchased a bunch and told them it was for a school event, we could get some kind of deal.” The rest of the faculty buzzes in agreement.

“Y/N and Harry, could you get to a pumpkin patch sometimes this week and see if they can give us an estimate of how much it would cost? Then I could let the PTA know.” You and Harry confirm that it will be possible to do sometime this week, and the meeting continues on.

By the time you’re finally free to leave the meeting, it’s already growing dark outside. Harry’s hands are shoved in his pockets, and he’s looking down at his feet. “So–”

“Do you want–”

You both stop, laughing awkwardly. “You go first.” you tighten the grip on your purse.

“Uh, I was jus’ gonna ask if I could get your number now. Yanno, so we can plan when we’re gonna go get all the stuff for our booth? And you still gotta tell me what your favorite grocery stores are,” he has a playful look in his eyes. For the thousandth time that day, your hands become clammy. There was just something about every interaction you had with him that made you so nervous.

“Oh yeah,” you answer coolly, digging in your purse for your phone. “Just text your number, so I have it.” You hand him his phone, and he stops dead in his tracks, a look of concentration on his face.

“I can’t walk and be on the phone at the same time,” he mutters when he looks back up and realizes you were watching him the whole time. “I don’t know how people do it.” He hands you back your phone. “What were y’ gonna ask me?”

“I was just um, I was gonna ask if you wanted me to give you a ride home? I mean, since you walked to work today and it’ll be dark soon,” talking to Harry made you feel like a nervous school girl interacting with her first crush, and you hated that feeling.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that–”

“It’s no bother, really,” you cut him off, and you realize you sound a little eager, but at that point, you didn’t even care. “I’m sure we don’t live too far from each other.” Harry looks slightly unsure but nods, and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

“If you’re sure, Y/N. I appreciate it, I owe you one,” he’s following behind you to the teacher parking lot. You silently pray your car isn’t messy inside like it usually is as you approach it. You decide to pick up your pace and walk ahead of him, telling yourself if the passenger side was messy, you’d just quickly throw everything in the back. “Heyyyy, why’re you walkin’ so fast? Are you sure you’ve got the time to take me home?” He takes a few big strides and quickly catches up with your hurried, tiny ones.

“Yeah, of course, I have time,” you respond, unlocking your car as you approach it. “If it’s messy, then just ignore it.” you preface, honestly not remembering the state in which you left your car this morning when you walked into work.

“Don’t worry about it. You should see mine,” Harry jokes, and it immediately puts you at ease. As you’re about to open your door, Harry quickly rushes to your side, opening it himself. “Let me.”

His hand rests over yours, and you quickly pull it away, your body heating up. “Harry, I’m already right here. I can open my own car door.”

“I know you can. But I’m a gentle—“

“You’re a gentleman, I know,” you playfully roll your eyes and take a step back, allowing Harry to open your car door all the way. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t flattered and honestly a little bit turned on. He flashes you a smile as you situate yourself behind the wheel of the car and makes sure you’re all the way in before slamming it shut. You see him lightly jog around to the passenger side, and soon enough, he’s beside you, your car immediately starting to smell like his cologne.

“What music do you like to listen to?” Harry asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“You ask me a lot of random questions, Harry,” you reply, looking behind you as you slowly back out.

“Is it a crime to wanna get to know my new coworker?” you can hear a smile in his voice. “C’mon. What’s your favorite music to listen to?”

You shrug, looking both ways before exiting the parking lot. “Where do you live?”

“I don’t know my address yet. Just take a left at this light coming up. Favorite music?” Out of the corner of his eye, you see him scrolling through his music library.

“You don’t know your address yet?”

“No. I’ll play something random,” he says, tapping his hand on his knee. “You can take a right at that stop sign up there.” You put on your blinker and glance over your shoulder before switching lanes. Harry quickly pairs his phone with your Bluetooth, and a song you’re unfamiliar with blares through your speakers. Neither one of you says anything else, only speaking to each other when he’s giving you directions to his house, and you’re confirming what he said.

After two more songs, Harry says, “S’right up here.” He’s led you to a beautiful apartment complex— one you were looking at when you were moving out of your parent’s home but just couldn’t afford as a new graduate. You expertly parallel park and then turn the car off, a silence falling between the two of you.

“This is a nice complex,” you tell him after a moment. “Really close to school. I see why you opted to walk to work today.”

“Mhm,” he hums. His seatbelt is still fastened. “I understand if you’re busy, but did you wanna come in?” You raise an eyebrow at him, and he quickly backtracks. “I mean— it’s just— remember the activity you taught your kids today? About introductions? Jus’ wanted to know if you could walk me through it, that’s all.”

“Oh. Well yeah, I can hang out for a bit.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and reach in the backseat for your purse that you threw haphazardly over your shoulder earlier.

“Will your boyfriend be okay with you coming in, though?” He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“What makes you think I have a boyfriend?” You’re slightly taken aback and oddly flattered that he thought you were in a relationship.

“I dunno,” his face grows red. “You got all weird when I opened doors for ya. Figured you had a boyfriend.”

“I don’t.”

“Cool.” More silence falls, this time an awkward one.

“Should we go inside now?” you unlock the doors, quickly getting out of the car. Harry follows behind you and waits for you to walk onto the sidewalk before going up the walkway.

“How close do you live to me?” Harry asks, punching in his gate code. He pulls the gate open and gestures for you to go ahead of him. You decide not to comment on it this time.

“A couple blocks away. I could probably walk over here if I was in the mood to,” Harry shuts the gate behind you and walks over to the first set of stairs, taking them two at a time. “I was interested in this complex when I was moving out of my parents’ but I settled on something else.” He hums, stopping in front of the first door at the top of the stairs. There’s a brown ‘Welcome!’ mat outside his door, along with a few potted plants.

“Here we are,” he looks over his shoulder as if he’s checking if you’re still there. “Excuse the boxes. ‘M not done unpacking yet.” He pushes open the door and steps in, quickly turning on the light. You’re met with the same sweet scent of vanilla that’s in his classroom. Considering he was in the process of unpacking, his apartment was reasonably tidy.

“It looks good in here,” your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. You were in your coworker’s house that you just met that day, and you could already feel yourself developing a crush on him. There was obviously no way you’d let this relationship progress past anything strictly professional, but that didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to admire his beauty.

“Thanks,” he gives you a smile, relief washing over his face. “You can set your bag down if you want. Take a seat, make yourself at home.” He leaves the room, and you hear him rattling around in the kitchen. “Can I get you anything to drink? Wine? Coffee? Tea?”

“Coffee sounds great,” you reply. You set your purse down on his coffee table and sit on the edge of his couch, inspecting his living room closer. There were two books on the table, both flipped upside down as a way to mark his page. There were a few more plants inside, similar to the ones in front of his door. There was a framed picture of him with two beautiful women you assumed to be his mother and sister. Harry comes back into the room a few minutes later, two steaming cups of black coffee in hand.

“Here you are, Miss Y/L/N,” he puts on an exaggerated posh accent, and you giggle.

“Why thank you, Mr. Styles,” you respond in the same voice. “Do you have cream and sugar?”

He wrinkles his nose. “I think I might have sugar. Is oat milk, okay? I don’t have cream.” He goes back to his kitchen to retrieve the items before you can tell him it’s okay, and you’ll just drink it black. You thank him, pouring the tiniest splash of oat milk into your coffee. You can feel his eyes on you as you add a bit of sugar, stir, taste, and then add some more.

“So,” you begin after your coffee is made to your liking. “What did you think about your first day? You can be honest since we’re not on campus anymore.” Harry laughs, looking down at his fingernails.

“Uh,” he starts. You notice he says, ‘uh’ a lot. “It was terrific. Not so sure I would’ve felt the same way if I didn’t have you to help me through it.”

“We’re partners in crime now, Harry. We’re the two Kindergarten teachers, and you’re the only other person there my age? We’ve definitely gotta stick together,” you give him a big smile. He doesn’t smile back but looks a bit troubled instead. You wait for him to speak, coming to accept that long pauses were just a thing when having a conversation with Harry.

“Y’know how I assumed you had a boyfriend earlier? I thought after I’d said that–– rather I hoped after I said that you’d be like,” he clears his throat. “‘Why, no! I don’t have a boyfriend. Do you have a girlfriend?’” He put on the worst American accent you’d ever heard to imitate your voice, causing you to laugh. “To which I would’ve replied with a simple ‘no.’”

Now it’s your turn to leave Harry wondering what you’re thinking for the first time all day. You can feel his eyes on you as you look at his couch cushions, noticing a bit of crumbs that you hadn’t seen before. “Are you flirting with me?”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

“You don’t even know me. We just met today.”

“Does that mean I can’t think you’re beautiful?”

You bite your lip, feeling yourself starting to grow a bit turned on by his forwardness. There was a part of you that would risk it all for just one night in bed with Harry because you just found him that attractive. The rational, adult side of you was screaming, ‘Don’t mix business with pleasure!’. By now, you had both moved closer on the couch to one another, knees nearly touching. “I think you’re beautiful, too.” He grins, setting his coffee cup down. You do the same.

“Would it be crazy of me to tell you that I really wanna kiss you right now?” His face is mere inches from yours, so close that you could smell the coffee on his breath. You shake your head.

“No. I really wanna kiss you too.”

“C’ mere, then.”

Harry leans forward a bit more until his lips are ghosting over yours. You pull at the collar of his shirt, bringing his already close body even closer to yours. His lips are softer than they look, and he’s a better kisser than you thought he’d be, too. He brings his hands up to tangle them in your hair, and that’s when you abruptly pull away, not wanting things to go too far. “We shouldn’t…” He looks at you with sad eyes, but he nods, understanding what you mean.

“Probably not the best idea?” his response comes out as more of a question than a statement, but you nod in agreement anyway.

“Definitely not. I’m um–– I’m actually gonna go,” you stand up, slinging your purse over your shoulder. “Thanks for the coffee, Harry. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see––”

You’re out the door, rushing down the stairs before he can even finish his sentence.

The rest of the school week goes on without either one of you mentioning it. It’s a little awkward for a couple of days, but by the time Friday rolls around, both of you decide the best course of action to take regarding the kiss would be to act like it never happened.

You’re in your room at lunch hanging up your kids’ artwork they made during their ‘Free Time’ this morning, having declined Harry’s lunch invitation for the fourth time that week. You decided to pretend to be busy with work so you wouldn’t be too tempted to go into his room. To most people, you’re sure it looked like you were avoiding him–– and maybe you were. However, you were trying to get over this crush on him in the best way that you knew how.

“Need some help?”

You jump, nearly falling backward off the stepstool you were on. “Holy shit, Harry! You scared the hell out of me!” You feel your body getting warm, and you quickly look away, not wanting him to see how flustered you were.

“Sorry, you weren’t answering my texts, so I decided to come see what you were up to,” he walks over to where you were standing and hands you a piece of art, smiling at it before handing it to you. “You’ve got some artists in your class.”

“Mhm,” you hum, not looking him in the eyes. You hear him let out a quiet sigh.

“Still able to go see about getting those pumpkins ordered after work?”

You had completely forgotten that you and Harry decided today would be the day you’d go get the pumpkin situated figured out for your booth. For a second, you consider making an excuse to get out of it, but you decide against it. This was something that both of you were asked to do, not just him, and you didn’t want the fact that you let your attraction to him cloud your judgment getting in the way of your professional responsibilities.

“Yeah, that works.”

He doesn’t say anything, and even though you’re not looking at him, you can see the gears in his head turning. “Should we talk––”

You’re quite literally saved by the bell, the end of lunch interrupting where you knew he was about to lead the conversation. “I’ll see you after school? Did you walk here again? I can drive.” Harry nods slowly.

“Uh, yeah. he replies. “I walked. Uh, ’m gonna go get my kids. See you after school then?”

“Yup!” you respond, fake enthusiasm in your voice. Harry gives you one more look before walking out of your room. You wait until he’s all the way down the hall before following behind him to bring your class back inside. You knew you were the one making things awkward between you and Harry. However, the realistic part of you knew getting involved with your coworker was one of the worst ideas you’d ever had in your life. For now, you’d just tell yourself that you were probably more into Harry than he was into you and pray that would be enough to make you get over your crush.

“I haven’t been to a pumpkin patch since I was a kid.” Harry stuffs his hands farther into his pockets while yours are tightly hugging your chest. You hum, not saying anything. The car ride there was a little awkward, and you were glad it was so short. You could tell there was a lot Harry wanted to say, but you were glad he wasn’t saying it. You keep seeing him glance at you, but you pretend not to notice.

“What size pumpkins should we ask for? Small ones, huh?” Harry nods, looking around in childlike awe. There was a small petting zoo, booths selling warm drinks and kettle corn, and an obscene amount of children.

You walk around together for a moment before encountering a friendly-looking employee who looked like he could help you out. Harry takes over, explaining the situation, and why you need to order one hundred tiny pumpkins. While you’re waiting for the employee to ask the owner if that would even be possible, Harry turns to face you.

“Y/N? Can we talk about what happened on Monday?” you’re about to tell him that you’d rather not, but he continues. “I felt something during that kiss, Y/N. I’m not sure if you felt it too, but I don’t want things to be awkward between us. We have to get through an entire school year working side-by-side, and if you’re not interested, then I respect that one hundred percent, but I just want––”

“So the owner said that is possible!” The employee that was helping you out comes back with a form and clipboard in their hand. “Can you just fill out some information and let us know what time you need it tomorrow? The owner said he could get it delivered and give you guys a discount since you’re ordering so much.”

“That’s great!” you exclaim, taking the form from him. You were glad to have been saved from your conversation with Harry. You quickly go through and fill out everything you can, telling them they can bill your school’s PTA.

The walk back to your car is silent. You’re replaying what Harry was saying to you over in your head, thinking about what he was going to say before he was interrupted. He opens your car door like he’s been doing, but he doesn’t make eye contact with you or say a word as he slides into the passenger seat.

“Y’can just drop me off,” Harry says quietly. He leans your seat back and closes his eyes. You wait to see if he’ll connect his phone, but he doesn’t, so you turn on the radio at a volume so low it almost can’t be heard. It takes everything in you not to speed back to his place. You just wanted him out of your car. You had such strong feelings for him that it physically hurt, and restraining yourself from telling him how you really felt was growing harder and harder.

“We’re here.” your voice is a little hoarse from not saying anything. Harry slowly opens his eyes and unbuckles his seatbelt, opening the door.

“Right. Thanks for the ride. What time do we need to be at school to set up our booth by?”

“Four. I can pick you up if you want?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” He closes the door and walks up to his gate without looking back at you once.

“Hi Miss Y/L/N! Hi Mr. Styles!”

Groups of your students had been coming up to you excitedly all evening. It made you happy to see that the Kindergarten classes were no longer divided. They were starting to hang out with one another. Their parents tell you how their children thought it was just the coolest thing to be on school grounds on a Saturday, and how even though it was only a week into the school year, they were having the best time. It was comments like this that made you fall in love with your job all over again.

Things between you and Harry were going well. It wasn’t awkward, but you think it was because you were both too busy helping children paint their pumpkins. You were glad that Harry didn’t take the bit of downtime the two of you had when no one was at your booth trying to talk about the kiss and instead talked about other random things instead. You find out he loves baking (specifically, bread), he has an obsession with old music, and has about fifty tattoos. He talks to his mom on the phone every day, and he is extremely close to his sister. You tell him about your parents’, your undergraduate experience, your hobbies, and you finally tell him what music you like to listen to.

The festival quickly comes to an end, and you find yourself sad once you and Harry are done cleaning up your booth, knowing that you were just going to drop him off at his apartment and go back to yours to spend another Saturday night alone. You get to his complex almost too quickly, and you almost want to keep going and pretend you accidentally missed it just to be with him a bit longer. Instead, you park.

“D’ya wanna come inside?” He blurts out. Even in the darkness of your car, you can tell his face is flushed. “I mean if you haven’t got plans. I know it’s a Saturday night, so I understand if––”

“Nope, I don’t have plans. I’d love to.” Your hands are shaky as you unbuckle your seatbelt. He quickly gets out of your car and runs around to your side, opening the door for you before you can do it yourself. You almost don’t even notice since it was becoming such a habit.

“I picked up this new bottle of wine a couple days ago that’ve been wanting to pop open. Think we deserve a glass or two after such a long week, hmm?” You wordlessly nod, wholly mesmerized with just how good Harry looked after such a long day of work. His curls fell perfectly across his forehead, his eyes were sparkling and full of excitement.

“A glass of wine sounds great,” you reply with a chuckle. “I’m ready to drink a whole bottle by the end of the week if I’m being honest.” Harry laughs, quickly punching in his gate code. You could see his hands shaking a little bit, but you decide not to comment on it. He takes the stairs up to his apartment two at a time like he did last time you were there, but this time there’s an urgency and clumsiness to his actions that you haven’t seen before. He jams the key in his lock, quickly shoving the door open.

His apartment is a little messier than it was when you were in it at the beginning of the week, but it’s nothing disgusting. He runs his fingers through his curls, moving aside papers that were scattered along the length of the couch. “Sorry, I was doin’ some planning. Make yourself comfortable.” He disappears to the kitchen, and moments later, you hear the pop of a wine cork and the smooth sound of him pouring the alcohol into glasses.

He emerges from his kitchen, handing you a generously poured glass of wine. “Thanks, Harry,” you tell him before taking a big sip. It was sweet, and while you usually preferred a more dry wine, it was still delicious.

“Cheers to the end of a successful first week,” he holds up his glass, and you smile, clinking yours with his. “Thanks for helpin’ me get through it, Y/N. Couldn’t have done it without you.” You give him a timid smile.

“Stop, Harry. You’re a great teacher. I can see your kids love you already,” you take another sip of wine. “I kinda do too. I mean–– that came out wrong. I don’t love you, but I do think I like you.” You didn’t know what came over you at that moment, but something told you now was the time to lay it all out on the table with Harry. He sets his glass of wine down, the biggest smile on his face.

“Really? I thought you weren’t interested. Was kinda startin’ to feel like you hate me,” he sounds a little sad. You shake your head.

“Quite the opposite, actually. I’m really into you,” you didn’t even realize how you’d inched your way towards Harry. “I’ve been trying not to think about how we kissed because we shouldn’t, you know? We’re coworkers. I’ve been trying not to think about it all week, though, and I just can’t get you out of my mind.” He stares intensely into your eyes, chewing on the inside of his cheek like he usually does when he’s thinking.

“Can I kiss you, Y/N?” he finally asks. You’re in the same position as you were last time, being mere inches away from the other’s lips. Only this time, you smell the wine on his breath, not coffee. You nod quickly, and Harry cups your face in his hands, hungrily pressing his lips against yours.

“You can do more than kiss me, actually,” you tell him breathlessly. “You can do whatever you want with me.”

Harry raises an eyebrow, a shocked look on his face. “When you say anything…” he trails off.

“I want you to fuck me, Harry,” you tell him bluntly. “Please. Been wanting that all week.” He licks his lips, looking at you in a way he hasn’t yet before.

“I can definitely do that,” he replies, resting his hand on your thigh. His large hand is dangerously close to your pussy, and you can already feel yourself growing wet. “Let’s get all these clothes off you then, huh?”

You stand up and quickly start removing your clothes. First, your blouse comes off, and that’s quickly followed by your bra. Harry’s leaning back on the couch, arms resting behind his head. “Enjoying the show?” you ask, quickly pulling down your jeans and underwear. You’re completely naked in front of him in thirty seconds flat, and you reckon that’s the fastest you’ve ever undressed for anything.

“Very much so,” he mumbles, palming himself over his khakis. “C’ mere, Y/N.” he pats his lap, and you move to sit in it, now straddling him. He softly presses his lips against yours, the hunger that was there just a moment ago completely dissipated. This was a much more hesitant kiss, more gentle and tender. “You’re really beautiful, Y/N.”

You giggle. “I know. You’ve told me that before.”

“I want you to know how much I mean it.”

“I know you do.”

Harry nods. “Can I have a taste of ya now?” you notice that his accent sounds a bit thicker than usual, voice a tad gruffer. You nod, swallowing thickly. Climbing off Harry, you lay back on the couch, situating yourself, so it’s a little more comfortable. He looks into your eyes, placing his hands on your knees. “Is this okay, Y/N?” You nod again, and he removes his hands.

“What’s wrong?” your voice has a hint of desperation in it, but after a week of extreme sexual tension, you wanted nothing more than to cum by the hands of this man.

“Wanna hear you tell me it’s okay. I don’t wanna do anything you don’t want,” he’s looking down at his hands.

“Harry, I wouldn’t have given you a striptease and laid back on this couch for you if I didn’t want it. I wholeheartedly give you permission to do whatever you want with me––”

That’s enough for him. He roughly pries your legs open, immediately licking a long stripe up your heat. You cry out, not expecting him to get right into it. You look down at him and groan when you see he’s making eye contact with you, a smug look on his face. “How’s tha’, love?” You nod, tangling your hands in his curls.

“Yeah Harry, please,” you moan. Harry sucks harshly at your clit, pulling off loudly, the sound echoing throughout his minimally furnished apartment.

“Please what, pet?” He’s looking you dead in the eyes, a devilish grin on his face while his index finger rubs small circles on your clit. Your chest is heaving up and down quickly as you try to calm your breathing down.

“Please make me cum on your tongue, Harry,” you try pushing his head back down to your cunt, but he doesn’t budge.

“Think I rather like hearin’ you beg like this fo’ me. Enjoyin’ watching you squirm like tha’, love.” Just as your about to beg for him some more to feed his inflated ego, he attaches his lips to your clit once more, this time adding his ring finger into your tight pussy. “You’re tight. Sure you’ll be able to take my cock?” His voice is muffled, and you just barely make out what he says.

You clench around his finger, and he laughs, the vibrations sending a new sensation across your clit. “Y’like thinkin’ about my cock, hmm?”

“Yeah, want you in me,” you beg, lifting your hips up. He grips onto your hips tightly, keeping you in place.

“Can feel yeh gettin’ ready for me, darlin’. Think you can take another one?” You nod, and Harry gently places kitten licks on your swollen clit while he slowly pushes his middle finger into you. You feel full in a way you haven’t felt in such a long time, and he only had two fingers in you. Once he pumps his fingers in and out of you a few times, he goes back to harshly sucking on his clit, moaning every so often so you can feel the vibrations against your cunt.

“Fuck,” you’re moaning loudly, and you pray Harry’s neighbors don’t hear you, knowing how thin apartment walls were.

“So fuckin’ wet for me, doll,” he mutters, adding another finger inside you. The burn feels amazing, and you place your hand on his wrist, urging him to go faster. “Gonna cum in my mouth, hmm? Gonna let me feel ya around m’ fingers?”

“Yes, please, Harry,” you feel yourself nearly there, your orgasm threatening to overtake you at any moment.

“Give it to me then, Y/N. Cum for me,” he demands. As soon as he says those three words, you’re done for, your body going tense as waves of pleasure roll throughout your body. He doesn’t remove his digits from the your cunt until you’re coming down from your high, placing a kiss to your clit. He laughs as you shudder at the overstimulation. Harry places his three fingers that were just inside of you and his mouth and sucks on them, not once breaking eye contact with you.

“That was really good,” you tell him, crawling on your knees towards him to place a kiss on the underside of his jaw—Harry’s beaming, a triumphant look on his face.

“Not yet. Gotta make y’ cum one more time. I’m a gentleman, after all.” You know he’s messing with you but also serious, so you lean back on the couch, opening your legs once again.

“Are you gonna take off your clothes too? Why am I the only one that’s naked?” Harry laughs, and you hear the clanking of his belt as he undoes it.

“You’re impatient, aren’t ya?” you nod, and he pulls down his tenting khakis and tight boxers. His cock springs up, slightly touching his stomach, and he hisses at the feeling. “Hold on a sec.” He gets up quickly, and you hear him hurry to what you assume in the bathroom, rummaging around. He comes back a minute later with a box of condoms, making you laugh.

“Is that a new box of condoms? Have you been holding onto those all week, Mr. Styles?” Harry rolls his eyes and opens the box, ripping open a condom expertly with his teeth.

“Weren’t you just the one beggin’ for me, pet? I’d watch it if I were you,” he jokes, rolling the condom onto his hard length. He leans down to place wet, opened mouth kisses to your breasts. “So beautiful.”

“Are you gonna take off your shirt?” you ask quietly. “I kinda wanna see all your tattoos.” Harry raises an eyebrow at you but unbuttons his shirt nevertheless, throwing it into the mess of clothes scattered around the living room. You reach your hand up, shakily tracing the swallows on his chest, moving down to the butterfly across his stomach and finally to the ferns on his abdomen. Harry’s staring down at you, watching as you delicately touch his skin. “You have so many.” you finally say. He nods.

“Yeah. Some of them I just got for the hell of it. Felt like after I got that first tattoo, it was hard to stop.” He caresses the skin on your thighs, and you shudder again. “Gonna let me get inside that pretty lil’ cunt now?”

“Please.”

Harry aligns himself with your entrance and slowly pushes into you, sharply inhaling as you clench around his length. “Relax, Y/N.’ve got ya,” he tells you reassuringly. “Can’t get inside ya if you’re all tense like tha’.” You can tell Harry’s trying his hardest not to absolutely wreck you, the vein in his forehead very prominent from clenching his jaw so tightly. You grip tightly onto his bicep, biting your lip as you adjust to his size. You were so wet and indescribably turned on that you felt every vein his thick cock had to offer, and you knew you wouldn’t last long once he started moving. By the looks of it, Harry wouldn’t either.

“You can move,” you tell him, squeezing your eyes shut. Harry slowly pulls out of you and then ever so gently sinks back inside you, bottoming out. He lets out a breathy moan, moving one of his hands up to tweak your nipples. “Harder, Harry, fuck.”

He immediately pulls out of you and slams back inside, the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass echoing in the room. You scream in pleasure, no longer caring if his neighbors hear what you two were doing.

“Like tha’?” He asks cheekily, working up a steady rhythm. You nod, gripping your boobs to keep them from bouncing. Harry shakes his head, forcefully removing your hands. “Nope, none of that. Wanna see ’em.” He takes both of your hands in one of his, pinning them up over your head. His other hand reaches in between your bodies to rub at your clit, and before you have time to warn him, you’re cumming again, squirting all over his cock.

Harry throws his head back in pleasure, his thrusts getting sloppy and frantic, and you know he’s seconds away from his own orgasm. You spur him on, telling him how badly you wanted him to come inside of you (even though he was wearing a condom). He stills moments later, shaking above you as he holds himself up with an arm, not wanting to collapse on top of you.

“Fuckin’ hell, Y/N. Why did we wait a whole week to do this again?”

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #teacher!h

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illfoandillfie · 3 years

Text

A Different Kind of Education: I Is For Impact Play (Chapter 8)

ADKoE MASTERLIST

Pairing: Professor!Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Series Summery: After being broken up with for not being kinky enough, Reader seeks out her professor to give her some private tutoring so she can win her boyfriend back.

Chapter Summery: A new week and a new lesson, but also a new challenge. How can you possibly find the courage to talk to your professor about your period?

Warnings: Modern AU, smut (18+), slow burn romance, dom/sub dynamics, dom!roger and sub!reader, professor x student sex, dialogue heavy, conversations about and mentions of menstrual cycles/periods, discussions of impact play including: spanking, kicking, slapping, punching, floggers, paddles, crops, whips, and canes

Words: 10,391

A/N: Better late than never, right? Big apologies for taking so long to get this one up! Once again I've had to split a single topic into multiple chapters lmao. This one is mostly the theory part of the lesson and a bit of an info dump, but the next part will focus more on the actual smut.

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

@80s-roger @libsterslobsters @okilover02 @cjand10 @dealorgirl32 @youngpastafanmug @onceuponadetectivedemigod

You knew it was something you’d have to deal with eventually, that having your period would affect your lessons with Roger. But still you felt reluctant to broach the topic with him. It wasn’t something you generally discussed with people, especially not your professor (even if you were regularly sleeping with him). And you could already hear the lecture he’d give you about why you shouldn’t be embarrassed to tell your sexual partner about your cycle, and about how he’d taught reproduction enough to not be phased by it. The problem was you weren’t really sure how you felt about having sex during it and you knew even less about whether Roger would want to. You were definitely going to have to talk to him about it, no matter how much you didn’t want to. So, wondering when the best time to bring it up would be, you checked the curriculum he’d written for you. Impact play. That was the topic for the week. Roger might consider you clueless about kink (as you’d learnt during the previous week’s munch), but you at least knew enough to know that impact play meant spanking. For a moment you were distracted from your worries about the conversation you were going to have, rather excited by what you’d just read. Spanking was one of those things you’d been expecting to try. When you thought about BDSM, spanking was the second thing to come to mind after bondage. It was one of those things Dylan had hinted at being into. A couple of times during sex he’d given your arse a slap and, though you’d never really asked for it you also hadn’t told him to stop. He never hit too hard and it added a bit of excitement so there was no harm in it. And you suspected he might be interested in pushing it further if you ever suggested as much. So, to know that Roger was going to run you through the basics of it and show you how it felt, you couldn’t help but be a bit excited. And maybe you’d be able to keep things over the clothes to start and you wouldn’t have to tell Roger about your period after all. The good thing with having an implant was that it reduced the duration of your period. It would have been nice if it stopped it entirely but at least it shortened it and made it a little lighter. So maybe you could organise a second session later in the week for the more hands on part of the lesson, and not have to explain at all. You left your apartment feeling happier and excited to see Roger that night. But you didn’t have to wait so long to see him.

You’d barely taken two steps inside when a familiar voice called out Ms Y/L/N and you found Roger walking towards you, his hand raised in a lazy wave. “Hi Professor,” you smiled, surprised but happy to see him, “I’m just on my way to class, what’s up?” “Oh, in that case,” he glanced over to a group of students ambling past you, “do you have time for a meeting before you leave this afternoon?” Your heart rate sped up at the serious way he looked at you over his glasses, “Umm sure.” “Good. I’ll see you this afternoon then. Don’t forget.” You nodded but a new worry had taken over your mind. There was only one reason he could want to talk to you. Your degree. If it was anything to do with his tutoring sessions then he would have just said it when you got to his place that evening. No, it must be to do with your class work. Maybe something had been wrong with your last exam? Possibilities were turning over in your mind as you resumed your path to your first class, each worse than the other. Maybe you’d misunderstood a question and gotten it completely wrong. Maybe he’d had to fail you. Maybe your overall grade had dropped. Maybe he was going to call the whole tutoring thing off because you’d gotten too distracted and done so badly on your recent assessment. You spent the entire day trying not to get too worked up about it, trying to tell yourself that if your work had slipped even a little he would have called to talk about it earlier, that if it really was as bad as failing his subject you’d have discussed it long before now. By the time your last class of the day ended you were somewhere between terrified about what Roger was going to say and relieved that you were about to find out.

Your hand was shaking as you knocked on Roger’s office door and pushed it open at his word. “AH, Ms Y/L/N, shut the door please and take a seat.” he said, shifting a stack of papers to the side of his desk. It was only once you were sitting that he seemed to look at you properly, “Are you alright? You look a bit pale.” “Professor I’m so sorry, I swear if something was wrong with my last exam then it wasn’t because of our lessons and I promise I’m not letting them distract me at all. I put so much time and effort into studying and if-” “Woah, woah, hang on. No one said anything was wrong.” Your breath caught in your throat and it seemed to take you twice as long as it normally would for you to understand what he’d said, “There’s not? Then....why am I here?” “It’s about tonight’s tutoring session.” “Oh?” “I wondered if you’d be okay making a small change to the plan.” “S-so nothing's wrong with my work?” Roger shook his head, “Your work is impeccable Ms Y/L/N. Sorry, I didn’t realise you’d assume the worst. I had no intention of worrying you like that. I was intending to mention it this morning but you seemed to be in a bit of a rush and I didn’t want anyone to overhear so...” he gestured vaguely towards you with his hands. You let out a relieved chuckle, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders, “What was the change you wanted to make?” “Do you know what we’ll be focusing on this week?” “Impact play, Professor.” “Very good. And do you know what that entails?” “It’s like spanking isn’t it?” “Spanking is definitely part of it, yes.” “Cool. But you’re not wanting to switch topic are you? Only I’ve been kind of looking forward to this one since it’s like proper BDSM stuff....or like, not that other things aren’t I just mean that spanking is part of what I initially imagined, y’know?” Roger held up his hand to quiet you, “I understand what you mean Ms Y/L/N. And it’s not that I want to change the topic, I just wanted to change where the lesson would take place.” “Okay...” you were a little surprised by that. Where else could he have in mind when your lessons were supposed to be secret. “I thought we might have the first lesson here.” “Here?!” “Keep your voice down, Ms Y/L/N. Not here exactly, not this office. In the first-year bio room actually.” “Why? Isn’t that kind of risky? What if someone saw?” Roger shrugged one shoulder, “It might be, but I think what I intend to show you could be covered as a biological experiment. Let me explain,” he said upon seeing your confused face, “So, as you no doubt remember, first years do a lot of dissection of various animals, working their way up to human.” You nodded, remembering hours spent bent over various carcases and cadavers. “Well, I thought it might be beneficial to show you some of the impact play tools we can use, demonstrating how they work and what effects they can have, but I don’t want to demonstrate them on you straight away. Luckily, it just so happens that one of the animals my first years are studying right now is pigs, so I thought we might use a pig carcass instead. Pig and human flesh are quite similar so you should get a decent sense of how being spanked with various tools will look and the impact they would have on your skin. We can compare being spanked by hand to flogging to a crop and so on. All without experiencing any pain at all. Of course, it is a dead pig so it won’t be exactly the same and you probably won’t see the same levels of bruising you would on a living human being, but it’s a good starting point. Plus this way you could try wielding the tools too, so you can get a sense for how they feel to use them and how much force is required to make them work.” You were taken aback by the explanation and had to stop your jaw from falling open as you listened. But Roger waited patiently for you to think it over and you quickly concluded it was a good plan. You could easily write it off as related to your dissertation if anyone saw and asked what was going on. It wasn’t at all related but Roger was about the only person who knew what topic you were researching so no one else would pick up the lie. “Okay then, let’s have the lesson here.” “Excellent. You really don’t mind hanging back?” “Not at all.” “Good. I think we should possibly wait until a little later before we start, just to let the place clear out a bit. Perhaps we could get some dinner and eat it in here before we head down to the room. You can tell me how you’re getting on with your dissertation.” “Okay, I like that idea.” “Shall I duck out and get us some food then? What would you like?”

After what could only be described as a minor argument about the merits of Mexican food, you and Roger eventually settled on a nearby Greek place. He tapped the order into Uber Eats and then went to wait for the delivery out on the street so the driver wouldn’t have to find their way through the numerous carparks and laneways on campus. You ducked out to your own car to drop off your bag full of books, though you kept your laptop to make notes on. It would also make your story seem more legitimate if anyone did stumble onto the lesson and ask what was going on. The thought of the lesson made you smile. Partly because you were keen to learn about the topic but also partly because you knew there was no way sex would be part of it. Roger would definitely draw the line at fucking his student in his classroom where anyone could catch you. And if you were going to be spanking a dead pig then you wouldn’t be asked to remove clothes or anything like that. So you wouldn’t have to discuss your menstrual cycle with Roger at all. You’d just say you were busy until later in the week when your period stopped and organise the follow-up lesson then and Roger wouldn’t be any the wiser. It was perfect. That, in addition to knowing nothing was wrong with your actual schoolwork, put you in a very good mood and you could have whistled with joy as you made your way back to Roger’s office.

By the time you’d finished eating, the sky outside the window had changed from a mix of warm pinks and yellows as the sun set and was gradually darkening the longer you watched. It was only when Roger glanced at his watch and saw that it was a quarter to seven that he decided the building would be empty enough for your lesson to start. He grabbed his own laptop as you grabbed yours and then led you along the corridor and down a set of stairs, taking you towards the back of the building where the hands-on biology lessons were held. Roger made sure the door was shut and locked before dumping his belongings onto a desk. “Can you give me a hand?” he asked, before moving to the door to a walk-in freezer at the back of the room. Together you hoisted a large pig carcass onto a cart and wheeled it out into the main room. Roger then ducked back into the freezer returning, after a little rummaging, with what looked to be a child’s toy crate. It was made of yellow plastic and seemed light enough that Roger had no trouble hoisting it onto one of the desks, but it was not full of children’s toys. You couldn’t see everything immediately but poking out of the top was a long black handle with a leather flap hanging off the end. “Is that what we’ll be using then?” You were eyeing the box warily. “Yup,” Roger began pulling the items from the box one by one, laying them out on the desk, “I brought the box in earlier and hid it down here so no one would stumble onto it. I didn’t want any awkward questions. Or to have any of them stolen since they’re mine,” he added with a chuckle. You looked over the collection with interest, some of the objects familiar to you and some only vaguely recognisable, “Is that a hair brush?” “It is,” Roger winked playfully, “Kink can be very D.I.Y and the back of a hairbrush makes for a good makeshift paddle. The front of the hairbrush can be fun too actually. Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m going to go through everything individually, explain what they are and what sort of effect they have and I’ll demonstrate them on our piggy participant. There’s also a few things I don’t have which we can run through at the end, sound good?” “Sounds great.” You sank into one of the nearby seats, pulling your laptop towards you, ready to take notes. “Right well. Impact play is a BDSM practice where one partner strikes another for sexual gratification. As you rightly said earlier this includes spanking but there's a little more to it than just that. You can slap your partner, punch them, kick them, whip them or flog them. There’re numerous ways to play with impact and as with all BDSM it’s important to negotiate what you want before you start. Being struck can leave marks of course. Brusies, welts, scratches, right through to cuts that draw blood. For some people, the marking aspect is an important part of their enjoyment, and they might go so far as to intentionally make the marks more apparent. But whether or not you want visible marks might be influenced by your job or the season or your social life or any number of other things. Personally, the marks are secondary to why I enjoy the forms of impact play I partake in. But my feelings aside, the nature of our lessons and the secrecy required, means I won’t intentionally be marking you anywhere that isn’t easy to cover up. If you even want to try it out. You might see everything today and decide it’s not for you and that would be okay.” “I don’t think there’s much danger of that Roger. Dylan’s spanked me a little before and I’m interested enough to try more.” “In that case then, you should know that physical pain is part of impact play no matter what aspect you try. And it can bring up more mental pain too, depending on the individual. Which is why I want to start with testing some implements on this pig. We can go through a few things and you’ll get a sense of them and then we can talk about what you might actually want to try or if any of it seems wrong for you. I’m also going to be much more diligent with your safe word in these lessons than any before. So what is your safe word?” “Pizazz, Roger,” “Good. Remember you can use it whenever you need to, even today. If things get too much for you I want to know.” “I know. I promise I’ll use it.” You were struck by how serious Roger’s tone was but understood it, after the conversation you’d had during your previous lesson. And, for the first time, you wondered if this would be a topic Roger would find hard to teach. “Thank you. I’ll check in with you every so often, especially when we move onto the practical lesson and you’re experiencing it firsthand. So, if I ask you what your safe word is, I need you to respond as loudly and as quickly as you can. It’s a way for me to gauge how well you’re coping and to make sure you’re still capable of using it.” “That makes sense.” Having assured himself of your understanding, Roger took a deep breath and smiled again, “Well, I have a range of different implements you can use here today but we’ll start with the most basic,” he held his two hands in front of him, palms towards you, fingers wiggling, “Hands.” You smiled at his showmanship but your gaze lingered on the offered view. His hands had always seemed quite lovely, even when he was just teaching you biology. The way they moved so delicately as he demonstrated necessary scientific processes for the class, or rapidly twirled pens around his fingers to impress new students. Of course, you’d felt them too since you’re first private lesson, the way he caressed you and held you. His fist tightening in your hair and his fingers plunging into you and making you moan and the way he’d gently stroke your skin as you were both regaining your breath. You were excited to feel the power in them as he spanked you. “Spanking is entry level impact play. Everyone and their mother has heard of it. It’s a common thing to see in pornography and even in Hollywood movies when they want to show sex as kinky. And because you don’t need more than your hands it’s easy to experiment with. Do you want to see what it looks like?” You nodded and Roger stepped closer to the pig, angling himself so you could see. Suddenly there was the sound of a clap as Roger’s palm hit the pig’s flesh. “See how my hand was open and my palm was flat?” Roger demonstrated again but slower so the hit barely made a sound, “But what if I do this?” He hit the pig again but changed the position of his hand. The sound of his hand colliding with the pig was deeper the second time around, “If you cup your hand, curve it slightly, you can change the way the spank feels and sounds. Just like clapping.” You experimentally clapped your hands together, first with open palms and then with each hand cupped so that the fingers wrapped around the back of the other. “Now you give the pig a try.” Feeling a surge of nervously excited butterflies, you got out of your seat and took your place at the pig. With a breath and a swallow you quickly brought your hand down. The slapping sound seemed to echo in the quiet room but it wasn’t as crisp as the noise Roger’s hits had made. With a look to Roger for permission, you tried it again, creating a slightly more impressive sound. “Good, now cupped?” You did it again, curving your fingers in a bit and bringing it down again. It felt more awkward than the open palm hit had so you repositioned yourself to hit the pig from a slightly different angle and tried once more. “Don’t be afraid to pull your arm back further. The more your rear back, the more force will be in the spank. Like this,” he pulled his hand back past his ear and swung down hard, the spank echoing around you. “Of course, you can also spank from a nearer point too. Spanking, and a lot of impact play, is best if you mix it up a bit, don’t stay in one rhythm too long, do some spanks with your fingers spread, or change how hard or fast they are. I might give a sub two or three hard hits each with a pause between but then I’ll switch to a more rapid series of spanks that don’t have as much force behind them but come faster.” You nodded and experimented with taking your arm back further, testing out ways to change the strength of each spank, until Roger finally called you to stop. “How did that feel?” he asked as you took your seat again. “My hand tingles.” “That’s normal,” Roger laughed, “in fact it’s one thing I really enjoy about spanking by hand. The sub isn’t the only one who feels the spanks, the dom gets some of the pain in his hand too, especially if the intensity ramps up or there's a section of quick-fire spanks. And that can a) help the dom understand what the sub is feeling and work out how long the scene should go and b) brings a sort of intimacy to the scene that is harder to achieve with a tool.” You hummed as you noted down what he’d said, “Have you ever spanked someone so much you injured your wrist or anything?” “No.” Roger shook his head, amused by the question, “My wrists are pretty sturdy. But a few times I’ve been left with a stingy, tingly hand for an hour or two. Which brings me to an important note about pain. There are two main types of pain you can experience in impact play. We refer to them as thuddy and stingy.” “Thuddy and stingy? What is this, an afternoon kids show?” Roger rolled his eyes, “The names are simple but they explain exactly what they mean. Some types of impact will have a stingy sensation which is usually superficial. It won’t go deeper than the first few layers of skin and probably leaves the skin feeling warm and a little tingly or like sunburn, y’know? It’s typical of spanks and slaps. Thuddy pain is deeper, it gets into the fat and muscles and tissue and aches more. And I’ll go through which tools cause which sort of pain as I get to them. Generally though, people who enjoy impact play have a preference for one or the other.” “And your preference is what?” “Thuddy. Definitely. Although I prefer inflicting stingy.” You hummed thoughtfully. “Now, I’ll go into details about ways to actually incorporate spanking into a scene later. We can talk about it while we’re negotiating our scene. Today is just about the practicalities and sensations involved in the different types of impact play. So are you okay to move on?” “Yup, definitely.” And then, sensing Roger might ask, you added, “Pizazz.” feeling pleased when you saw him smile.

“I don’t expect us to delve too deep into them but I think I should touch on kicking, punching and slapping. Kicking and punching are things I’ve not done. They can, obviously, be quite painful. But they’re pretty self-explanatory. From what I understand about it, and what I’ve heard others who enjoy that kind of thing say, kicking and punching can both be very intimate, similar to the way spanking by hand is, but in a more primal or animalistic way. Punching is, of course, done without any accessories but kicking often includes footwear of some kind. A lot of time it’s something like a steel-toed boot or something with a bit of weight to it.” “That isn't something I want to try.” You’d learnt a lot about how far kink went so weren’t completely shocked that some people would enjoy something as forceful as kicking, but it did take you by surprise to hear Roger talking about it. “What about slapping?” “How is that different to spanking?” “Well, you’re right, they are similar. But slapping generally refers to slapping on the face whereas spanking is usually on the, uh, derriere. Of course you can slap or spank other parts too. For clarity’s sake, if I say slapping assume I mean on the face whereas spanking is anywhere else on the body.” You thought about it for a second, “I’m not sure if I’d be game to try it but I do want to know more.” “Slapping can be fun. Again, it’s not one I do a lot but I have played with it in the past. It comes in handy for particular scenes and there’s a fairly bratty sub I’ve worked with who responds really well to it. The most important thing to know is that if you are slapping someone’s face only ever aim for the cheeks. There’s a lot of fragile places around the face and it’s close to the brain so you need to be careful not to do any lasting damage. Never hit the temples because you hit them with enough force and it can kill a person. Nose and ears are off limits too, anything that is important. You knew enough about biology to know Roger wasn’t making those rules up for fun. Noses were easy to break and hitting an ear too hard could damage someone’s hearing. But face slapping did still intrigue you.

“Well, I’d say the next – let's call it the next level – of impact play is paddling.” He picked up what looked to be a wooden plank with a handle. It was an inch or two longer and wider than his hand with small holes cut out in a repeating pattern over the flat side so you could look right through it. “They don’t always look like this. Paddles come in lots of different shapes and sizes. This is a wooden one but they’re also frequently made of leather and sometimes the leather ones will have one side that’s a little more padded than the other. That gives you a bit of versatility with the pain. You can start off lightly with the padded side to get you in the zone and then during the scene switch it to the firmer side that hurts more. Or, if you don’t have access to a paddle at all, you can substitute a hairbrush.” He picked the hairbrush up and waved it back and forth. “And that-” you pointed at the hair brush, “will feel the same as that?” you pointed at the wooden paddle, not quite able to reconcile the two in your mind. “Not exactly the same but close. Honestly you can get really creative with impact play and not spend any money to get nearly the same results. I mean a plastic hairbrush might take a few extra hits or a little more force to really bruise someone but they’ll still end up sore from it. Or, if the hairbrush doesn’t do it for you, dig through your draws and see what else you can find. Wooden spoons, cutting boards, rulers, leather belts, spatulas, rolling pins, ping pong paddles, anything you can get your hands on. Just be mindful of how easily they’d break or them causing more pain than you expect.” Again, you weren’t necessarily surprised by the lengths people would go to for sexual gratification, as Roger had put it, but it was a bit astounding. Still, you noted it all down just in case. “Now a paddle generally falls under the stingy category but you do tend to get a deeper bruise than with your hand. Different factors could alter the way it feels too. If you put less force into it the pain will fall more on the thuddy side, same goes for if your hits are slower. But the pain call also be influenced by the size of the paddle, the material it’s made out of, the texture of it.” “Texture?” “Sometimes paddles have added texture, so they aren’t just a smooth, flat board. They might have metal studs that are more raised than the surface of the blade – the part you hit with – or ridging that will imprint the skin. This one has holes in it which definitely changes the feeling, makes it more intense. As you strike and the blade hits, the holes do two things. They stop any air cushions forming that would lessen the impact and they sort of push the skin into the holes which means the pain isn't completely even along where was hit. Plus it also leaves these cool circle marks behind which is fun.” You realised you’d held your breath through the explanation, eyes following the paddle as Roger waved it through the air and ran his hands over it unconsciously. You hoped he had something more beginner friendly at home, though you couldn’t pretend you weren’t turned on by the way he wielded his weapon. “Using it is quite similar to spanking but your hand isn’t hitting, it’s holding onto the paddle handle. So you just pull back,” Roger’s arm went back and the paddle swung backwards,” and then hit,” he swung his arm forward, the paddle cutting through the air and landing directly against the soft flesh of the pig. It made a satisfying thwack sound on impact and when Roger’ brought it back again you could see the circular patterns he’d talked about. He demonstrated a few more times before he handed the plank to you. It was heavier than you’d been expecting, solid wood, but the handle fit into your palm comfortably. You ran your hands over the flat part, what Roger had called the blade, and felt the holes with your fingers. The weight made it a little hard to swing but not impossible. You managed to mark the pig as well, stroking the circular imprints with your fingers. “Try the hairbrush,” Roger said, swapping it for the paddle. Its handle wasn’t quiet as long, but it was lighter and you found your hits were harder with it, without you even trying. “Something to be aware of if you use an ordinary household item, or even just a different sort of impact toy. Because it’s lighter you can pull it back further and swing harder. A dom has to be aware of how much is going into each hit and how much their sub can handle.”

“So what’s after paddles?” “Floggers.” Roger picked his up off the table, “This is a fairly typical flogger. As you can see it’s made of black leather. It has the handle which is the thickest part and then a number of smaller tails. The tails is where you get the most variation which can be a stylistic choice or just a side effect of its price and overall quality. There’s a trick for knowing if a flogger is good quality or not. It should be pretty evenly balanced between the handle and the tails, so you should be able to do this,” he held out a finger and balanced the flogger on it carefully, the handle pointing out one way and the tails dangling over the other. You thought for sure it would tip forward onto the tails and tumble to the ground but it hung there perfectly. “Sometimes there will be more tails or they'll look different but no matter what, it should be balanced.” Roger gave a practiced flick of his hand so the flogger leapt into the air and he was able to catch the handle before it fell. “From a more stylistic point of view, you could get a flogger with less tails but they’ll be made of braids of leather which makes them heavier and thicker. Braided tails are also likely to have knots in the ends which can be a bit scratchy and even draw blood. They don’t have to be made of leather either. Rubber floggers are also popular. The tails on them tend to be more rectangular in shape, still flat but they have more edges and it actually feels like you’re being hit with more tails then there really are. And if you’re looking to really fuck someone up you can get hemp floggers. Sometimes they’ll look similar to this leather one but hemp is fairly stiff material and sometimes the tails will be shaped so that they’re sort of squiggly rather than flat lines. The squiggles hurt like a bitch, especially if they have knots at the end. Definitely start off with simple leather and work up once you’re more experienced.” Roger dragged the ends of the tails over his hand as he spoke, “I’d say this falls into the more thuddy type of pain. It can cover a large area of your body since the tails spread out and each of them creates an individual pain point. And because you’re being hit six or seven or nine or however many times at once, you can build up quite a rapid movement over a short period of time.” You eyed the dancing tails as Roger moved his hand through them, “How long are the tails? Isn’t it a bit dangerous to have so many bits flying in all directions?” Roger laughed, “Well yeah, kinda. I mean, that’s BDSM for you though, it gets dangerous which is why we’re all obsessed with safety. It’s a good thing to have noticed though, well done. The tails on this one are on the shorter side but some floggers will have much longer ones which means the dom can stand further back and still inflict a lot of pain. But you’re right, you do have to be mindful of the length and where they’re flying because a longer tail can potentially wrap around to somewhere you aren’t intending to hit. For instance, if you’re standing behind a person and flogging the back of their shoulder, you don’t want one of the tails to fly past their shoulder and around their neck. That would be incredibly painful and probably not what they expected or wanted from the scene.” “So you have to take into account the length of the tails when you’re negotiating the scene then? And know where on the body to focus the hits so you don’t risk causing the wrong sort of pain and ending it early.” “Exactly. That’s why negotiating the scene is important. Then both the dom and the sub will know what they want to achieve, what they want to get out of the experience, and they can tailor things to fit better. A lot of doms who are into impact play are likely to have multiple versions of their favourite toys – I myself have a few different paddles at home, I just didn’t bring them all in with me today – so by talking through what you want they’ll be able to choose the style of toy that will best fit the scene.” “So how do you use a flogger then? Is it the same as spanking and paddling where you just swing your arm forward?” “Sort of. Floggers have a few different ways to use them. There is of course the single strike option where, yeah, you do just hit them like you would with a paddle. I find that you don’t need to bring your arm back so far though, the movement comes from your elbow more than your shoulder.” Roger bent his arm so his hand and the flogger were roughly head height and then brought it down on the pig, “And you can change the angle of your single strike so that you hit them overhand or underhand or from one of the sides.” He demonstrated each direction as he said them, first bringing the flogger down from above, then swinging it up from below, then from the right side and finally a backhanded hit from the left. “But you don’t have to just pick a side to hit from. Paddles and hands are limited in how you can swing them but floggers have more movement. One way to use them is to swing them in a circle.” He moved back towards the pig to demonstrate, standing side on so that the tails whipped around and struck the pig, “I like starting off with circles because you can keep the pressure quite light. The tails sort of brush over the sub as they pass and it can be a good way to slowly build up. And then you can move into a figure eight as you get a bit harder.” Roger shifted his circles so they made a sideways eight in the air, subtly adjusting his stance so that the tail swished over the pig’s skin on both the forward and back motion. You watched, awe-struck by how easily Roger swung the flogger, falling into a rhythm quickly. It wasn’t hard to imagine how he’d suddenly change the speed or the force of the swing when you were least expecting it.

You were brought back to the present by Roger clearing his throat as he stilled the flogger, “The figure eight is why you should practice your backhand swing as much as any other. Because the tails will hit the sub on both the forward and back swings and you want them to be as even as possible.” He flipped the flogger in his hands, holding the handle out to you. It felt smooth and cool in your hand, lighter than the paddle had been. You swished it experimentally, trying to get a sense of how it felt in motion.” “Show me your overhand hit.” Roger said, leaning back against the nearest desk to watch. You tried to imitate how he’d swung it, elbow bent, flogger raised. It must have been good enough because Roger nodded and said, “how about underhand?” He kept calling out different directions for a while, testing your reactions but you felt it helped you get a better grip on the toy and you found yourself adjusting how you held it so your movements became more fluid. Roger watched you as you tried to keep up, his eyes locked onto your hands. Had you been looking, you might have caught sight of him subtly adjusting himself in his pants. Finally, he seemed satisfied that you could successfully single strike from any direction and asked you to try the circle and figure eight motions. They were harder to start, more awkward as you tried to work out the best way to move the flogger, and you caught Roger chuckling.” “Oi, stop laughing,” “Do you want some help?” he was still smiling but his request was genuine and when you nodded he stepped towards you. One of his hands moved to your waist as the other lay over yours on the handle of the flogger. You tried not to grin too much as he did exactly why you’d hoped, and you felt him so close behind you. “Like this,” His arm gently directed yours, the flogger beginning to move in a smooth circle. “Oh, not so hard then,” you laughed, half turning to face him, “Y’know if someone walked in now this would be pretty hard to explain.” His eyes darted to your lips, “Good thing we locked the door then.” You hummed, waiting to see if Roger would close the gap. He did a few seconds later, leaning in to kiss you softly. But the movement caused you both to forget about the flogger, your hands falling out of rhythm, and the tails whacking against your outstretched arms as they fell. “Ow,” you both groaned, Roger stepping away from you. It was disappointing but the disappointment was a little confusing. Surely you weren’t hoping for your professor to kiss you when you had no intention of sleeping with him that night. Roger laughed, “Maybe that’s enough of the flogger today.” “Might be for the best. Good thing I was so bad at it, otherwise we might have been really hurt.” “You weren’t that bad. You actually looked good with it before I brought in the circles. Quite sexy really.” “Thanks,” you said softly, trying to hide how pleased you were at that praise, “What else is there then?”

“There's only one more that I can demonstrate but then there’s a few others I’ll touch on quickly too. So the last one I own is a crop.” He picked it up off the table, his fingers sliding along the length of it’s handle as he spoke, “This one I would put in the stingy category. It’s fast and sharp. Again, you can get crops in a few different styles. They will all have a handle like this, long and thin and probably with a slightly thicker point towards the end that’s easy to hold onto. The difference will be in the bit you hit with. This one is based on the sort of riding crop that's used on horses, so it’s quite plain. There’s just this loop of leather which hangs off the end. But others can be more decorative. I’ve seen crops which had ends shaped like hearts or that had studs pushed into them. Some of them are padded and some have a more rounded shape. We like our variety.” “It looks scarier than the others I think,” “Yeah, they’re quite intimidating aren’t they. And if you do it right, it’ll make a noise through the air, which just adds to how intimidating it can be.” “Can you show me how to swing it now?” “Absolutely. Now, you want to stand a bit further back with a crop because there is such a long handle. And the magic is in the wrist with these. You just flick the wrist and...” You could hear the whooshing sound of it flying through the air before it cracked against the pig. “Now some crops are more bendy and some are more stiff so, if you get one, you’ll want to practice swinging it a bit before you use it on a person, to get a feel for it. The flexibility of it might dictate how you stand or how strong the swing has to be. Give this one a go though.” You felt oddly powerful as you took the crop and tightened your fist around the end. For a moment a vision of you decked out in leather dominatrix gear popped into your head and you nearly laughed. Unfortunately, the intimidating whooshing noise Roger had achieved was not as easy for you to make as you’d hoped, and the imagined power soon dissipated as you struggled to make the weapon sing. Roger however was not disappointed. “It takes practice,” was what he said when you lamented your inability to create the sound, “And you don’t have to have the sound to make a good hit. It’s just kind of cool.” When you still seemed disappointed he sighed. “If it’s any help, I can’t always make the sound either. And besides, I wasn’t intending to use that one on you, unless you really, really want to. I mostly brought it to show you as an interesting part of your theory lessons. And so you’d have a sense of what a cane is like, even though I don’t have any of them to demonstrate.” “A cane? Like....caning? Like what Victorian kids used to have done if they misbehaved or whatever?” Roger laughed, “Kind of, yeah. It does have a history in corporal punishment. Which, might I add, wasn’t just for Victorian kids. It was still a thing when I was a kid. We didn’t get caned, more likely to be whacked over the knuckles with a ruler, but still. I don’t think it really left schools until the 80s.” “Jesus,” “Yeah. Occasionally I do wish I could bring out a ruler to shut a kid up,” he winked in jest, “Anyway, caning for BDSM is similar and uses the same sort of tool. A cane, funnily enough. Canes are long and thin like a crop but without the leather flap at the end or the more padded handle area. Traditionally they’re made from rattan which is a type of plant, but you can also get synthetic canes which are covered in leather. In my experience synthetic canes are actually harder. Not to use, I mean in the way they feel when you’re hit with them. The traditional rattan ones require a lot of maintenance though. You have to water them between uses, literally soaking them in a bath of water so they don’t dry out and break. But the benefit with a rattan cane is that if you get it home and realise you’d like something a bit shorter, you can cut it off yourself and just sandpaper down the rough edge and it’s good as new.” “So are there any different version aside from synthetic? All the other toys had lots of variety.” “Hmmm, not really. Most of the difference will be in how thick the cane is, which can effect the feel of it a lot. A thinner cane will sting when it hits and the force will make the skin hug the cane so it leaves these long marks behind. A thicker cane though might sting less but it’ll still hurt a lot, just more thuddy. And you tend to get more bruising from the thicker ones.” “And do you use it the same as a crop?” “Mostly, yes. The biggest difference is that you can use a larger section of a cane. The crop has the specific bit at the end to hit with whereas a cane doesn’t have that limit. The most important thing to remember is to try and aim a little short of where you want to hit because if you hit with a part of the cane six inches down, those top six inches are going to hit as well, and with force behind them they will wrap around the person’s side or arse or whatever until they make contact. But other than that, it’s a similar motion from the wrist and uses a similar amount of energy. And canes can make the cool whippy noise too.”

“Is that everything then?” “One last one, really quick. Whips.” “Oh yeah, I’ve heard of whipping in kink.” “Yeah, it’s one of those things that gets mentioned a lot even if comparatively fewer people are actually into it. But everyone’s heard the phrase chains and whips in relation to BDSM. There's a few different varieties of whips but I don’t really know enough about them to know the difference. They all look like whips to me. Very cowboy. But they’re one of the more intense versions of impact play. The pain they cause is quite sharp and stingy and will be very localised to a specific point because they have the one tail, as opposed to floggers which have multiple tails. Whips are very capable of breaking the skin though and feel very intensely painful. I do not recommend them unless you discover you’re a masochist and you’ve tried everything else impact play has to offer.” “No need to tell me twice, Professor. Definitely do not want to try whips any time soon.” “That’s very reasonable. And that is all of the impact play options I wanted to go through. There’s a little more to cover regarding safety before I let you go for the night, but how about we put the pig away and hope no one notices it’s been marked by crops and floggers.” You chuckled and quickly moved to help Roger push the trolley back towards the freezer, locking the dead pig away securely, and to help pack up his toys. When everything was tidy again you re-took your seat, Roger taking the one beside you. It made the end of the lesson feel less like a lesson and more of just a casual chat, the topic of which happened to be BDSM. “The most important thing to remember when trying impact play is which parts of the body are safest to hit.” He paused for a moment, considering you, “But you’ve been studying biology for a while now, Ms Y/L/N. Care to guess which parts are safe and which parts you should avoid?” You hadn’t expected to be asked so took a moment to consider your answer, “Well, the arse obviously. Ummm.... I guess I’d assume the best places to hit are the bits with more meat on them.” “Very good. Entirely correct. There’s a reason most people think about spanking on the arse and that’s because it’s one of the best places to spank. Well, that and the fact that spanking is used so frequently in punishment scenes where you bend the naughty girl over your knee. But, yes, hitting the arse is good. Hitting the thighs can also be good, though the bit just under the arse cheek where it connects to the thighs hurts a lot. Which isn’t to say don’t ever spank there, just be mindful that it’s going to hurt more than directly on the arse cheeks. The pecks or breasts can be good places to hit, even the upper back where the shoulder blade is can be good. What about places to avoid hitting? Any ideas what those might be?” You hummed in thought, “I’d imagine you wouldn’t want to hit the spine since it’s so important.” “Right again Ms Y/L/N. The spine is definitely something to avoid. I don’t like hitting on the back much at all because there's too much important stuff there but I do know some others who don’t mind using a flogger there, especially while warming up before things get too intense. There are also the kidneys to watch out for,” he moved his hand to press against the spot on his own back, “because, as you no doubt know, part of the kidneys stick out under the ribcage so aren’t fully protected. Then a little lower down, just above the arse, is the tailbone which should also be avoided. “What about the neck? That would be bad to hit too, right?” “Yup. And that’s something to watch for if you’re doing anything on the shoulder blades. The spine of course runs all the way up the back of the neck and hitting there can do some very serious and lasting damage if you’re not careful. I know some people who will only flog the shoulder blades if the sub is wearing a collar because that adds a bit of protection around the C5 and C6 vertebrae but even so, better safe than sorry in my opinion. The front of the neck is also not good to hit since that’s where the vocal cords and all that is.” “Which is why you have to be careful with a flogger’s tails, right?” “Right. But what about on the front? Is there anywhere else you’d avoid?” “Pussy,” you said with a laugh. Roger laughed too, “Actually, depending on how it’s done, spanking a pussy can be quite enjoyable.” “Wait really?” “Yeah. I prefer doing it with my hand since you can feel when it makes the sub wet but it’s not totally unusual to use paddles or crops or even floggers down there too. I’m sure some people whip as well.” You gulped at the thought. “The biggest area to avoid on a person’s front side is the diaphragm and middle of the chest. There’s a lot of important stuff in there and a lot less tissue than elsewhere.” “Do people get badly hurt doing impact play?” you glanced over the list of places Roger said to avoid. It made it seem like almost any spanking was running the risk of more than just some bad bruising. “Sometimes.” Roger said seriously. He paused for a moment, thinking, and then continued, “Things can go wrong. And when you’re playing with intentionally hurting someone, things going wrong can be very serious. I won’t pretend there aren’t stories of people trying impact play and ending up paralysed or worse. But if you’re careful, if you pay attention and only hit certain areas and are mindful of how hard you’re hitting, then you’re going to be fine. And that’s why we come up with safe words and talk through scenes before we do them. So that you can minimize those risks and have a chance to communicate any worries or concerns.” “But how can safe words help if you say them after you’ve already been hurt too much?” “Well, for one, even if you’ve been hurt badly, using your safe word can stop things from being made worse. But you don’t have to wait until you’re hurt to use the safe word. Yes, if I spank you four times in a row and the fourth one feels so bad you can’t go on, then you should use your safe word before I give you a fifth. But you could also use it after the third hit when you aren’t sure if you want the fourth. And safe words aren’t just about physical pain. If you start off excited but then feel anxious after two hits you are well within your rights to safe word. You don’t have to wait until the damage is done. And, obviously, it’s not always easy to tell if that one hit more is going to be enough to make you want to stop. You can’t always know if the next hit is going to catch your neck wrong and do serious damage. But if you feel at all worried that it might, speak up. Not just worried either. If you feel distracted or you think I’m not paying enough attention to how I’m spanking you, or if I move to spank and area you don’t want me to touch, tell me. There is no wrong reason to use a safe word, even if we’re only a few minutes into the scene. I’ve said before that I’d rather you tell me to stop than for us to go on and you not feel comfortable, and I mean it.” “I know, I guess I just never really thought about it being for mental stuff as well as physical.” “Mmm, I should have checked that.” “Well, let’s face it, you probably tried and I just didn’t pay attention. But, y’know, you’re very good at reassuring me when I start to get nervous.” “I hope that’s a good thing.” “It definitely is. I think if I didn’t have the reassurance, I’d chicken out of some things.” “As long as you’re aware of the difference between some healthy nerves and anxiety that could be a sign you should slow down. And that you keep telling me how you’re feeling.” “Of course I will.” “Good girl.”

An understanding seemed to pass between you as you sat in near silence, eyes on the other. Until Roger drew in a long breath and stood up. “Right well, I think that’s just about everything. Obviously we weren’t able to see the levels of bruising that different implements can cause but it’s kind of dependent on the individual anyway. Everything can influence the severity of bruises and other marks. Tell me what a bruise is.” “It’s broken blood vessels under the skin which cause discolouration.” “Bingo. Now, obviously being spanked with a hand will leave less obvious bruises than being hit with a crop will and usually a paddle will bruise less than....i don’t know, a leather belt. But there's lots of factors to consider. The sub’s age, diet, the colour of their skin, their hydration level, how much sun exposure they’ve had recently, stress levels, hormones. And the biggest of all is how much stimulus they receive on that part of the body. The more you hit a spot, the deeper it will bruise. So, don’t expect bruises and marks to appear exactly the same every time you make them. There are some ways to heighten or lessen marks left during BDSM, but I’ll go through those when you’re ready for our practical lessons. And we’ll also go through some ideas for popular scenes and positions before we settle on what our scene will look like.” Roger seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, “Of course, it’s not so late we have to stop. If you did want to start testing out some light impact play, or if you wanted to revisit a previous topic, you’re more than welcome to come back to mine.” “No,” you said much too fast, the suggestion catching you completely off guard. “Okay, no problem,” Roger said, his eyes downcast. “I didn’t mean...just that tonight’s not great timing.” You’d really thought you’d got out of having to talk about it but you could see Roger was going to ask what you were talking about when on a regular tutoring night you’d likely still be in his bed. All the same you couldn’t quite make eye contact as you explained, “My period started last night, that’s all. Makes things a bit awkward.” “Oh is that all?” You shrugged, “Yeah.” “Well there’s no need to feel awkward or embarrassed about that. And there’s no reason to hide it from me. Aside from the fact that I’ve been married and had kids, I’ve also been teaching biology for longer than I care to count, so I’m very familiar with the reproductive processes and the reality of the menstrual cycle.” “I knew you were going to say something like that.” “Because it’s true. And besides, periods are important to factor into our lessons because they can change how you’ll respond to various kinks. Fluctuating hormone levels can change how much you enjoy or desire sex, as well as the physical sensation of different forms of touch. A lot of women find breast stimulation uncomfortable in the lead up to their period because their breasts become tender at that stage of their cycle. It can also make vaginal sex undesirable, at least in the first couple of days if not longer, whether because of a physical discomfort or pain, or just because it makes sex messier and more annoying to clean up after. The hormonal shifts in a menstrual cycle can also effect libido too, either stopping you from feeling aroused or causing hyper arousal. And all of that is important to consider, especially when we get to other things like orgasm denial. So, don’t feel you have to hide your periods from me, okay? I want to know if something is going to effect how enjoyable these lessons are for you. And plus, I factored periods into the timeline, remember? If you want to postpone for a week we can. His little speech did put you at ease a bit, the weight of admitting the truth no longer as heavy now that he knew, but it still wasn’t an especially comfortable conversation, “Well, I should be okay to go in a few days.” “Would you be up for having sex on one of the last days of your period when your flow is a little lighter? Or would you rather wait until after it was finished?” You tried not to cringe too much upon hearing Roger talk about your flow, “After I think. I don’t know. How do you feel about it?” Roger shrugged, “If we were just having sex without the kinky stuff I’d be okay with period sex. It’s a little more effort since we’d need to put towels down and all that but I’m not completely opposed to it if we’re both in the mood. However, I think since we’re playing with BDSM it’s probably a good idea to wait.” You nodded, glad the topic was almost settled, “Yeah, that makes sense. I think I’d feel too self-conscious to enjoy any period sex but you’re definitely right about the BDSM stuff. Just makes it easier for my first time trying things out if I’m not worrying about, um, bleeding everywhere.” Roger gave you a reassuring smile which made your heart flutter, grateful he hadn’t made things too difficult or drawn out, “That’s settled then. We can put a pin in all of this for now and come back to it when you’re ready.” “Thanks. Will Friday suit? I think I should be right by then.” “Friday sounds great.” “Really? You don’t have to, like, pick up the kids or anything?” Roger shook his head, amused, “No. It is technically my weekend with them but they’re both staying at friend’s placed over night so I won’t see them until Saturday. Friday we can start testing some things and if we need to, we can come back next Monday and go through more. And I finish a bit earlier on Fridays so maybe we could start a bit earlier.” “Yeah that works for me.” “Great. I guess we should get out of here then.” Roger ushered you from the classroom and walked beside you all the way to the carpark, your footsteps echoing down the corridors. He chatted to you quietly about non-kinky topics, as if you’d merely ended up walking the same direction by accident, just in case anyone was looking. You were almost sad to reach your car, drawing the conversation to an end, “This is me.” “One last thing, Ms Y/L/M.” “Mmm?” “For homework-” “Homework?” “Yes. For homework I want you to watch some porn with impact play in it. You’ll find a few examples linked in a document I’ve dropped in our folder but feel free to find your own too. It can be spanking by hand or flogging or any other form of impact we discussed today, whatever turns you on most. Because I want you horny when I see you on Friday. I want you to spend all week thinking about naughty sluts who get spanks, knowing you’ll soon be one of them. I want you excited to be hit and wet at the thought of me spanking your arse and cunt while I fill your holes with cock. Is that clear?” Roger had leant closer as he talked and your stomach did a backflip as he stood up. All you could do was nod, completely lost for words as Roger chuckled and walked into the dark towards his own car.

#my writing #my fics #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #roger taylor imagine #gonna try and get the next one written a bit quicker lmao

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marktuansvevo · 3 years

Text

got7 reacts to something theyve never experienced before in a relationship

warning(s); slight cursing, sexual content in bam’s part

mark; being jealous

mark understood why his past partners could be jealous of him in his line of work. as long as it didn’t get out of hand, he thought it was cute. he was never the jealous one in the relationship. he didn’t even know what jealousy felt like....

....until tonight.

you were mark’s entire world. you excited him, you built him up like no other. never before could he see himself spending his life with someone before you came along. you made the world brighter to him.

but now he was only seeing red.

you had been a trainee and never debuted, which you weren’t too upset about, you had a boyfriend you loved and a career with less physical and time demands than being in the entertainment industry. this meant that you knew a lot of other bands, stray kids being one of them. chan was, quite frankly, your best friend during your trainee days, so when you saw him at this afterparty you were attending with mark, you threw yourself into his arms.

mark just watched you from afar.

and his blood boiled.

chan spun you around in his arms, the biggest smile on his stupid, handsome face. “yah!! y/n! mark didn’t say you’d be here.”

you giggled, trying to keep your tears at bay. you put your hands on his face, poking his dimples. mark scoffed at the blush that was forming on his friend’s face. “god, chan i missed you so much.”

“bro, you look constipated,” bam snuck up behind him. “dude, your face is so red right now.”

mark rolled his eyes. “these parties are so annoying.” he didn’t take his eyes off of you as you caught up with chan, who still had his hand around your waist.

bam followed his line of vision. “shit, you’re not constipated, you’re jealous. yugyeom, come look at him!”

mark walked away from his intoxicated friends and up to you. you smiled at him before returning to your conversation with chan.

“y/n, we have to go,” mark said lowly, smiling a sickly fake smile at chan, who immediately dropped his hand from your waist.

“why, baby, we just got here? are you not feeling good?” you asked. he wanted to feel bad, your voice was laced with concern.

“something like that. see you, chan.”

as you got in the car, you smiled at him, poking his cheek. “somebody’s jealous, huh?”

“huh? of chan? i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he clenched his jaw, not making eye contact with you as he steered his car out of the parking lot. you were giggling now.

“you’re cute when you’re jealous. maybe i should make more time for chan.”

“y/n!!!”

jaebeom; wearing disguises in public

jaebeom never thought he would have to dress up in a disguise to go out in public. and jae would never want to put you in such a position. it was draining, and you, as his girlfriend knew that he despised it.

but you wanted to go to a concert with him.

and you wanted to stand in the pit with him and be part of it. don’t get you wrong, you loved when he bought you suite seats or could watch his shows from backstage, but you wanted to sway to ariana grande in th pit with your boyfriend.

“cmon, jae, i think everyone is going to be paying attention to ari. we can skip the opening act?” you suggested.

“y/n, i don’t want to take a chance...im sorry,” he pouted at you. you sighed, trying to figure out what to do.

“what about disguises?” he said. “like, we could wear our halloween costumes?” you were giggling to yourself, but your boyfriend seemed like the idea.

“i could wear my jesus wig and you could paint a beard on me?” he said with serious eyes.

“jae, you hate going out in disguises.”

“true...but, babe, this will be fun. you could wear your sailor mars wig, it’d be cute,”

okay, this was a really cute idea and you were warming up to it...if it made your boyfriend more comfortable to be out in a crowd of so many people, you were down to try it out.

“this really feels like halloween in july,” you giggled as you used mascara to draw a beard on his chin.

“do I look like jesus??” he asked childishly.

“well, you don’t look like im jaebeom of got7, that’s for sure,”

“you look like an egirl,” he laughed at himself. “don’t hate, you know you love it,” you said. “we look so cute, let’s take a mirror selfie and post in later,”

“no, then people will be on to us,” your boyfriend sent a pout in your direction as he looked at his makeshift beard in the mirror. “I look sexy as fuck in a beard,”

“super sexy aegyo please?”

the two of you arrived at the arena, not be noticed by anyone, but jae was still on edge, so you held his hand tight as you made your way into the pit.

“im so excited!!” you shouted over the noise. he shook his head before leaning in to kiss you. the two of you danced the whole night away to arianas crooning, his arms around you as you swayed to her pretty, soothing voice. the two of you let the world fade away while ariana sang honeymoon ave in the background.

jackson; his significant other saying ily first.

it was no secret that jackson was stock full of love and kindness. he had had other partners before you, all with him ending up getting too attached, or scaring them away when he said “I love you” too early.

he did not want to scare you away, and honestly, he had known he loved you two months into dating, but he didn’t want to scare you away, so he never outwardly said those three little words to you.

he wasn’t expecting you to say it, first though.

you had invited him over for dinner and a movie, just wanting a chill night in with your boyfriend. he brought the wine and promised to give you a back massage, so really, what more could you want on this chilly thursday night?

“what’s been going on, honey? you know you can tell me anything,” jackson whispered into your ear as he helped you out of your clothes.

“I feel like I deserve to oversee my department at work. i have the most education of all of them, more experience than them, and generally, I am more optimistic than my superiors….,” you sighed, letting him rub just under your shoulder blades, which had been itching all week.

“mmm?”

“i think they might be scared of powerful women who like to wear hot pink fendi suits to work,” you smiled, knowing he would be offended at your joke. you could almost feel him pouting.

“so the reason you can’t get the job is because your superiors don’t like the suits your boyfriend buys you? wow, what a way to hurt a guy’s pride…,” he followed your lead on the joke, trying to make you laugh because he knew this was really getting to you. “baby, I think you should go to their boss and see if you can get a promotion…tell them everything you told me, okay? i know you’re not only the best woman for the job, but the best person for the job…period,” he said, making you feel so overwhelmed with emotion. none of your previous partners had ever revered you the way jackson had. you felt so incredibly blessed and in love, you couldn’t help yourself.

“god, jackson, I love you so much,” you whispered.

the movement of his soft hands on your back stopped abruptly at your words. ‘oh god, was it too early to say that?’

“j-jackson…im sorry-“

“ive been waiting to say that to you,” he breathed against your lips, closing the distance that was between them.

“jackson wang….you love me?” you could feel the tears building. the man of your dreams was in love with you, too.

“i love you,” he whispered reverently.

“say it again,” you begged. he said it like a mantra.

“i love you, i love you….i love you..”

jinyoung; moving in together

jinyoung thought you were so cute. you were ecstatic to move with jinyoung. you had been living in your shared apartment with your mom your whole life and we’re excited to start a new chapter of your life. jinyoung didn’t think you were taking in the fact that moving is one of the most stressful things a person can go through.

he didn’t want to rain on your parade, though.

the two of you got settled into your new apartment after a long day of unpacking. jinyoung kissed you as you laid onto your new king sized bed. “im gonna grab takeout, you want your usual?” he asked sweetly, squeezing your hand. you just nodded, squeezing his hand back.

you watched as jinyoung walked out of your shared bedroom. that’s when the dam broke. you were so overwhelmed. you didn’t know how to make warm water happen in your shower, you didn’t have your wifi set up, and you forgot your favorite teddy bear at your moms. you missed teddy and your wifi and your mom.

“hey, i ordered you two egg rolls and they gave us three - hey, baby, are you crying?”

“no,” you replied lamely. “I miss teddy,” you wailed miserably.

“teddy...the...stuffed bear?” he asked.

“i slept with him every night for the past 20 something years.”

“baby...we can get your bear in the morning...,”

“we don’t have netflix set up so how am i supposed to sleep tonight?”

“y/n...,” he chuckled. you frowned harder now that he was laughing at you. “moving isn’t as exciting as it looks. tomorrow, we will fix the wifi, okay? and we can visit your mom and rescue teddy.”

“okay...okay. im sorry, im just a bit overwhelmed,” you confessed.

“its gonna be okay, honey. it’s a lot to take in, i know. but you can hold me instead of teddy, and ill sing you to sleep,” he whispered, the takeout now long forgotten. before you could fall asleep, he pulled his iphone out of his back pocket and pulled you into his chest to take a selfie. “there. now we have a picture of us in our bed for the first time.”

“i love you, you sap.”

even though you called him the sap, the next day you went to the pharmacy to get the photo printed and frame it. when jinyoung came home from the market that day, he eyed the frame on your bed stand, smirking at you.

“oh, so im the sap, hmm?”

youngjae; picking up the tab

it was the first date the two of you had been on since youngjae had been on tour. he told you to get dressed up and that the two of you would go out for a fancy dinner and catch up on everything. this is why you loved him, because while you wanted to hear all about his stories of life and tour abroad, he always wanted to hear about everything that was going at home, to see if you were alright.

youngjae looked dazzling in a black checked suit, while you matched him with a little black dress that made him groan when you stepped out of the bathroom. “can we skip dinner?” he’d ask cheekily. you rolled your eyes at him before kissing him on the cheek. “we aren’t skipping dinner, and we definitely won’t be skipping dessert,” you winked before leading him to the car.

the two of you ate dinner together, him holding your hand and looking at you with stars in his eyes as you told him stories that had happened while he was away. you ordered appetizers, drinks, shared an entrée, and youngjae even ordered you a slice of apple pie for the two of you to share.

“baby, I’m going to go use the restroom,” youngjae said before kissing your hand. “’kay, don’t get mugged, please,” you teased him. he shook his head at your playfulness. you watched as he left before frantically waving your arms at your waitress. she ran over to you, checking if you were alright.

“I just wanted to wonder if I can pick up the cheque really quick? I wanted to pick it up for my boyfriend as a surprise,” you spoke in a hushed tone, making the waitress giggle. she nodded her head before handing it to her. you handed her your credit card, thanking her before your boyfriend had any suspicions of what you were up to.

youngjae came out of the bathroom as soon as the waitress set the cheque down. you were applying your lipstick so you couldn’t snatch it in time. you watched as his pretty brown eyes scanned the receipt, looking confused as ever. “is this a joke? what kind of waitress lets the girlfriend pay?”

“jae,” you giggled. “you don’t always have to pay for dinner. I wanted to treat you…I missed you so much,” you confided, watching his expression from anger into warmth.

“oh, thank you honey, you are so sweet and thoughtful, I love you so much,” you let him wrap his suit jacket around your arms before planting a kiss to your forehead. “but that will be the last time you ever do that.”

“shut up, i like doing nice things for you,” you pouted.

“since you paid for dinner tonight, i have to put out, right?”

he ran to the car before you could slap him in the chest.

bam; his s/o borrowing his clothes

remember how joey never shared his food? well that’s how bam was with his wardrobe. he was very particular about his clothing, not letting people borrow them at all. yugyeom used to steal his clothes just to be petty and piss his best friend off. he had never let past partners borrow his clothes, and nothing was going to change, it wasn’t his fault, it was an obsession. if you were sure of one thing, it was to not steal your boyfriends clothes.

but one day, while he was gone from work, you thought you would take pictures of yourself in only one of his blazers to tease him.

you weren’t expecting him to walk through the door while you were trying to take self timer pictures of yourself.

“baby? what are you doing?” bam asked, laughing as you let out a squeal of surprise.

“i..i wanted to surprise you...,” he tsked, pulling away to look at his blazer. “i know you don’t like me wearing your things..,” you stammered as he circled you.

“you have such pretty things, though, bam,”

“you look so sexy in this,” he purred. “you were trying to get me worked up while im trying to work?”

“u...uhhh,” you couldn’t think coherently with you boyfriend acting so domineering. you gasped as he slid his hand up to your cunt, rubbing your clit in little circles. “bam...please...,” you groaned.

“keep the blazer on,” he said as you writhed in his grip.

“its gonna get all sweaty though and then you’ll yell at me,” you teased him as you followed him to the bed.

bam just groaned. “baby, im sorry I haven’t let you borrow my clothes before but you look better in them than me. now, let me fuck you and i promise you can have anything you want in that closet.”

he knew exactly how to shut you up.

yugyeom; his s/o buying him flowers

yugyeom was always so stressed during comeback season. you always scolded him when he forgot to eat, or wasn’t staying hydrated enough, but you were so proud of him. seeing the smile on his face and the way he walked a little taller was so worth it.

he was still busy during comeback season, coming home late after all the videos he had to shoot for publicity.

one night, yugyeom had gotten home around midnight to a bouquet of pink roses and a handwritten note from you. it read; “I am so proud of you, my love. congrats on breath… I can always feel your love,” he blushed and giggled to himself, thinking, “isn’t the guy supposed to buy the girlfriend the flowers?” he wandered into your shared bedroom to see you sprawled into his side, with your book in your hands, a soft snore leaving your lips. he nudged you, not intending to wake you up, he could thank you in the morning. but he did accidentally. “yeom?” you whispered.

“shh, baby go back to sleep,” he shushed, changing into his pjs.

“did you like the flowers?” you asked, suddenly awake now.

“theyre really pretty, baby, but aren’t I supposed to buy you the flowers?”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “not my boyfriend being a sexist,”

“yah! y/n stop it, I didn’t mean it that way!! I love them, you remembered I said I love roses,” he was pouting now, pulling you into his chest to spoon you. his voice got quieter now. “no one’s ever remembered my favorite flowers…much less bought them for me,” he paused, kissing the back of your neck before closing his eyes and falling fast asleep.

he was whipped.

#got7 #got7 scenarios #got7 reactions #got7 preferences #got7 writing #got7 imagines #park jinyoung #mark tuan #choi youngjae #kim yugyeom #bambam #jackson wang #im jaebeom #got7 writings

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amazingphilza · 3 years

Text

study buddies :: cc!multiple x reader

fluff , platonic , gender neutral ! some headcanons if the mcyts were trying to help you do hw :D

cc’s included in order: tommyinnit , tubbo , ranboo , wilbur soot , philza , technoblade

tommyinnit

i feel like he’s the type to be in a long discord call with you whilst you both try to finish your work

mans uses the screensharing feature like there’s no tomorrow

“y/n watch my stream on discord and help me guess the answers”

“tommy no! i haven’t even taken a film class before”

“your guess is good as mine”

“just cheat and google the answers!!!”

“fuck you”

he actually just wants your attention because he’s bored out of his mind doing homework

five minutes later of asking you to help him guess questions he’s like

“hey y/n”

“what now?”

“let’s play bedwars”

“oh my god shut up!!!”

if tommy has to speedrun something before a deadline, it is a whole different story tho; he will be so focused on completing that he won’t hear what you’re saying

if you’re struggling in math, you’re on your own

“math is shit, only numbers i need is my primes and youtube analytics” says tommy any time you complain about math

besides the fact he isn’t good at solving math problems, you can’t even read his handwriting if he did try showing you how to do a problem

“okay, y/n, it’s simple, just look” he says in his kareninnit voice and everything

you’d be like “is the variable a G or a 9??”

“fuck you that’s a 4!!!”

tubbo

i don’t know if tubbo ever talked about school before but something about him makes me think he’s actually pretty good at math

like he can explain a few things when it comes to math / algebra

CODING GO BRRRR

no geometry or calculus though, anything past algebra will go bad

if tubbo is doing homework with you, he will definitely tune you out

“hey tubbo can you help me on this question?”

you don’t get a response until like 20 minutes later

“oh yeah, what was it y/n?”

like now you answer? i just got the answer myself after so long, forget you smh

“oh nothing tubbo, nevermind!”

but you’re still grumbling in your head because if he answered just a bit earlier you wouldn’t have gone through the work of finding the answer online

i can also imagine if you’re taking chemistry tubbo is like ;

“oh you’re taking chemistry? let’s make some bombs!” /lh

tubbo would definitely pull an all-nighter with you to finish your projects together

if you had a group project, he would make you do the writing part while he does the drawing part

“we definitely aced this project”

“of course we did, if i made you draw we would’ve ended up with stick figure diagrams”

“TUBBO. THE FUCK?”

ranboo

okay i know ranboo said he isn’t a theatre or band kid (unless im wrong and forgetful) but i feel like he’d be somewhat educated in the topics nonetheless

half the time he’s great moral support, helping you stay motivated !

the other half is him making fun of you

“i cant believe you’re failing, that is so sad, can’t be me”

“it’s literally an honors class, ranboo! it’s supposed to be hard!!”

“taking an honors class willingly? also cant be me AHAHA”

i honestly can’t see ranboo going to school like i know he’s a minor and said he had zoom calls before and plays volleyball but like did i miss something? has he dropped out yet? like something about ranboo does not scream “student” /lh

besides that, i’m not sure what subject he would actually be good in,,, but something about nutrition/health sciences,, he knows a few things

don’t get me wrong, i don’t think he actually likes the subject but somehow remembers what he learned from the class

also gives me the type of energy of the type of person to take a first aid class to be a certified person to do cpr on someone just to kill time during his lunch breaks for a while or something

“i am a certified cpr person”

“my life in ranboo’s hands? oh god please no”

you two would probably joke about the ‘bad’ people in your classes or talk shit about your schools than actually doing anything homework related ngl AHAHAH

“you think your school is down bad? mine went back to campus full time after like 6 months into quarantine because they were running out of money”

“what the hell y/n? your school is a scam, drop out”

“arghhhh i knowww”

“i bet i make more money than your teachers combined AHAHAH”

wilbur soot

he doesn’t seem like the best person to ask for help for homework but can info dump you on very specific historical events + a bit of geography

i kinda see him as the person you can ask to proof read an essay for you and would help it improve immensely

who needs a thesaurus when you have vocabulary boy wilbur?

i dunno if it’s an american thing only or at all, but if/when you get to studying hamilton in your english class, he will get so fucking excited

“no wilbur it isn’t fun! imagine listening to lin-manuel miranda rap ‘alexander hamilton’ at the white house from like 2009 on repeat for over an hour whilst trying to write an analysis about it!! it was so distracting”

“well clearly someone has a personal problem with mr lin-manuel. if i were you, i’d be singing the whole thing”

is this last bit personal and complete spite from my freshman year english class? yes. i do not care? no. /hj

unrelated but i actually scribbled nice guy ballad lyrics and other songs on my english scratch papers in freshman year but anyway

probably isn’t the best person to be in a call to do homework with but wilbur doesn’t mind you ringing him occasionally sometimes

i dunno i can just see him easily get bored of the silence or something but also doesn’t want to bother you too much

but he is genuinely proud of you whenever you tell him you aced a big test you were studying for :D

philza

this man’s bad advice is as bad as him trying to help you on any subject

he’s an old man so /hj

but like honestly, he hasn’t been at school for so long, phil can probably only help with the most basic things when it comes to school

if you have a wack teacher that makes you collect data through surveying people, phil would be one of the best people to ask! straightforward and won’t take too much of your time compared to other people ahem,,

statistics things ! sobs

if you ever complain a lot about your classes and contemplating dropping out and stuff, he will def scold you hard

“ugh phillllllllll can i just like,, never go to school again?”

“do not drop out”

“argh fine, i won’t just ‘cause philza minecraft said so”

honestly if you get a high score in a big test like your sats/gcse’s (whatever you’re taking from wherever you are) he’d probably order you a small meal or something to celebrate :D

like how phil bought ranboo bought him food to his house, it would start as a joke but when you get your test scores back he’s like “YOOO GOOD JOB Y/N”

expect a left meat pizza coming to your house .

technoblade

like wilbur, techno is also helpful when it comes to history!

def knows a decent bit of literature too

besides that i don’t really see him being that helpful

even if he was supposed to be an english major

he will just get mad at the school system for teaching you useless things

“being in school is good but why do you need to know how to know if something is a triangle or not? i can obviously see with my eyes that it’s a triangle”

“i dunno! ask the person that made up geometry”

“just look at a kaleidoscope and be over with it, it isn’t that hard”

“that isn’t how it works—”

“bruhhh”

if you’re looking for the person to call while doing homework, he is not the person /lh

it’s either like 0 or 100 with techno

he can just completely not say anything and ignore you or go on a full rant about whatever class or homework you have

if you have an essay you need written, it will take a lot of bribing but he might take the opportunity if you are rich

“techno i’ll paypal you $10 please help me”

“no. i can make 10 times that amount in 5 minutes if i just started streaming right now”

“techno i don’t have that kind of money! pleaseee”

“no. instead of complaining, you can use that time to actually start you work”

“you’re the worst”

then you speedrun the essay and get an A just to spite him

#dream smp imagines #dream smp x reader #dream smp x y/n #dream smp headcanons #sbi imagine #sbi x reader #sbi headcanons #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x you #mcyt headcanons

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wagner-fell · 3 years

Text

Mari kicked down the dressing room door with a bang so loud Kevin jumped and spilled his hot coffee cup all over himself. Hearing his yelps of pain, Astrid peaked her head out of the curtain, laughed at his expense then shut it again. Maria ignored that.

They strutted out to where the boys were sitting and struck a pose. “Can I rock cottage core or can I rock cottage core?”

Kit didn’t trust himself to speak. He simply nodded instead. While the baby blue dress with short, ruffled sleeves looked a bit out of place paired with Mari’s bulging muscles, she looked absolutely stunning.

The Merry Hoes were located in the back room of the antique store Kevin’s family owned. The Chu’s just got a large donation of vintage clothing. Mari had just gotten their pay check from the downworlder gym she worked at. Kit and Astrid really didn’t want to do their maths homework. It was destiny.

Despite being downworlders both Blessica and Kevin still lived at home. Mari, though, lived with the rest of their pack in an old Edwardian mansion a few blocks away from school. However the five of them slept over at each other’s place of residence so often they blurred together in the young Herondale’s mind. He could really only tell them apart by their smells.

Mari’s reeked of dirty laundry as they were one of four folks on the feminine side of the gender scale out of the lycanthropy of London, Blessica excluded. Her house smelled like Ube, a type of yam her Filipino parents put in everything. Kit couldn’t complain. Ube flavoured ice cream was the best thing he’s ever eaten. Aside from Mari. Though he wasn’t usually the one… Nevermind.

Kevin’s house smelled of Longjing tea and red wine. A peculiar combination that oddly enough, worked quite well.

Astrid had two homes as her parents divorced at the age of six. Stepping into her mom’s house was like stepping into a cookie factory. Which made sense as her mom owned a bakery and lived above it. Kit didn’t know exactly what Astrid’s dad’s place smelled like, let alone looked like, but he could make an educated guess that it was similar to the Los Angeles Institute because it was in LA too.

After they separated, Miss Yang fled to Devon to dodge the possibility of seeing her ex-husband when they exchanged Astrid. Kit related to her on a deep, personal level.

Now Astrid spent her summers in America and Kit drained his battery on international phone calls.

Her three months in the USA each year helped him bond with her better when they had first been introduced. For example, her ringtone was the Perry the Platypus theme song. Blessica, Kevin and Maria had no clue what it was but when the music reached Kit’s ears, the two sang an epic duet that put Kiss Me More (the second most iconic duet in history) to shame.

“How much is this anyway,” asked Mari, turning in a circle to see if there was a price tag. In the process she sent the fabric fluttering as she went. It made them look more magical than ever.

“There is no price on fabulousness,” said Astrid. She had on loose, black dress pants, a white shirt, and black suspenders with gold blemishes.

“Yes there is,” replied Kevin. “54 euros.”

“54 euros,” exclaimed Mari.

“Well it would have been €34 but you made me spill my coffee and this shirt was 20 so..”

“Seriously, Kev. I will fuck your mom. You think I won’t?” A pause. “Wait, only twenty €20?”

“Oh, I know right! There is this incredible thrift store down on Fleet Street and-”

“Don’t care,” interrupted Mar. She took one last look in the mirror before turning back to him. “I’ll give you your parents' price, not your dramatic ass’s one.”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “Fine. But it’s an extra €10 for the shoes.”

Mari looked down at her tan sandals. They leaned against the door they just excited to take the footwear off. “Racist,” she muttered under her breath.

“I’m literally Chinese.”

“Homophobic, then.”

“Pansexaul,” he sang.

Mari was silent for a moment before she banged on the door into the room Blessica was changing into her rose pink gown. “Blessie! Do I have permission to call Kev transphobic in your name?”

“Hey,” said Kevin, looking up from his task of rubbing a paper towel across his sheer, white shirt. “That’s cheating. Blessie, don’t listen to them!”

The nickname ‘Blessie’ was what her family exclusively called her. She turned red when they had first found out. Granted, it wasn’t hard to make Blessica blush. All she had to do was stand in Kevin’s general area.

“Blessica,” called Mari once again. When she still didn’t answer, Maria stood up and pressed their forehead against the changing room door. “You okay?”

“No,” Blessica croaked out finally. Her hoarse voice was laced with sorrow. Upon hearing her speak, Kevin abandoned any hope of saving his top and joined Mari at the door. Kit and Astrid were quick to follow.

“Hey,” said Astrid gently. “What’s wrong?”

Blessica began to sob. “The dress doesn’t fit right,” she whimpered.

“That’s okay,” soothed Kevin. “We have other sizes.”

“Kev, it doesn’t fit my body because it wasn’t made for my body. I just feel so ugly.” All the other Merry Hoes made various sounds of distress. Kit was instantly reminded of Dru,

He was suddenly fifteen again. In Ty’s bedroom as he told him of all the times she’d been told she wasn’t pretty by members of the Shadowhunter society. And all the times Emma or Julian or another member of her family had reassured her that she was. The thought occurred to Kit that maybe they weren’t Emma-y as Blessica needed them to be.

“It’s just like,” started Blessica, “I started taking Estrogen seven months ago, you know? And I still don’t have anything to show for it.”

His mind was racing a mile a minute. “Yes you do,” he said.

“I do?” she asked, sounding dubious.

“Your voice!”

“You do have a really nice voice,” agreed Astrid. “You could totally narrate audiobooks or something.”

“No it’s not,” grumbled Kevin.

“Kevin,” said Mari, glaring daggers at him. ‘Kevin’ in this case didn’t mean Kevin. It meant ‘Shut your mouth right or I will actually kill you’.

“No, not like that! It’s just…” he was blushing profusely now. “Her voice is like the rain. Most of the time it’s soft and warm and it wraps you in one big, wet hug. You can’t help but feel, well, blessed to get to feel it touching your skin.. But when it rains hard you feel every single drop land. But no matter what kind of rain it is, the impact is always enormous. Uh, yeah, her voice is like that.” There was a moment of prolonged silence, where Blessica had stopped crying but no one was brave enough to talk.

The door opened and Kit, Kevin and Astrid stumbled backwards. Mari didn’t. Stupid gorgous jock, Kit thought as she survayed her inferiourors.

Blessica stood in the open doorway. Her eyes were puffy and red. The dress looked perfect on her. Not that this style hadn’t looked perfect on Mari but their arms were so thick, they filled up the entire selve. Blessica was so petite you could see her bones clearly through the skin. It highlighted the flowness of the gown extremely well. “You guys like my voice?” Then, “why are you all staring at me, is it that bad?”

“Blessie,” said Mari. “You can’t just put on that in front of four people who like women and expect them not to stare.”

“Respectfully, of course,” added Kit.

“Just tell us if it makes you uncomfortable,” agreed Kevin.

“Step on me,” breathed Astrid.

“But then again,” said Mari, “you validate yourself too.”

“Run me over with a cement truck.”

“We can see your hot as fuck. But more importantly you have to believe you’re hot as fuck.”

“You could literally kill me and I’d get on my knees to thank you.”

Blessica was blushing as hard as Kevin now. They sheepishly smiled at each other before turning away. “Simp,” said Kit and he held out his hand. Astrid dutifully rewarded him with a high five.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I am on the trans spectrum but I am not mtf. If you are and you feel misrepresented please feel free to private message me or just leave a comment tell me how I can fix it.

@the-wckd-powers @book-dragon-not-worm @thechangeling @the-blackdale @ithurielkeepsgettingkidnapped @illusions-give-reasons-to-live @shelvesofgold @arangiajoan @maxboythedog @noah-herondale-lightwood @its-taff @cncnbr @sofiatheskeleton @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @im-not-ruined-im-ruination @adoravel-fenomeno

Let me know if I left anyone out. Also let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list.

#The Merry Hoes #Kit Rook #Kit Herondale #mari the werewolf #mari machado #astrid yang #blessica reyes #Kevin chu #dru blackthorn #drusilla blackthorn #ty blackthorn #tiberius blackthorn #tsc

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compassionatereminders · 2 years

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I know you had to go through something similar with this, but at a younger age,

but im 23 and in college and honestly i love being in school but the work load just feels like its getting even harder and i just lack the motivation to read all the material because it just overwhelms me and i rather do it on my own time at a more slower pace. And i know doing that will start to really effect my grades if I don't buckle down and read it myself but its getting rather hard for me to do just that. School in itself just keeps me stressed and I've had crying sessions and breakdowns because I feel so overwhelmed.

I know I can do it if i can do it at a more leisure pace, but deadlines feel like they're too cose together and just rushing and doing assignments on the day it's due won't help me for long.

I notcied last sememster i did ok and even passed my classes but at the same time im not registering essential information. Im trying to find all the short cuts i can to swim on by by going online and finding straight answers to quiz questions instead of using my books for open book quizes. (And the books itself i hardely read) I even temporarily paid for coursehero because i noticed it had the exact answers for the quizes for some of my classes. And i feel i would have to do it again.

Idk i just have this huge mental exhaustion and stress because i just want college to be over with. It's not exciting to me as much as before. When I was in person it was somewhat fun but after going straight online it feels like its worse for me. And although the online class set up should be easy since it's set up in parts (two classes in one half of the semester. Two clases in the lase half) taking four classes still feels like too much even though im only focusing on two at a time essential.

I talked about it with my therapist when i had a chance but i don't think she was lisenting to me when she read my journal entry and my own explination on my thoughts on being in college. Everyine thinks i can do it and i just feel so pressured. So very pressured to be able to ace this. Something that use to be way more eassier in highschool before i got diagonised with schizoaffective disorder. I don't want to fail them and they always always say i can do it but i dont feel confident enough i can. I feel im only doing this to make them proud but college in itself just makes me want to cry and cry. I just dont have the confidence to try and attempt and try and learn something- but it feels like i learned nothing. I want to make them pround and i do know for a fact dropping out doesnt mean im a failure, but it feels that way so much because they think i have the means to do it. But staying and feeling this way isn't helping me. And i guess im just that bad a communicating these thought to them that ny therapist just gave me a schedule to help study better but i just can't follow through with it at all. I know she means well, but sometimes i have an inkling i have to drop out and consider being on disability for long term than what i currently have now.

Idk. When you had to drop out of school did you ever feel anything similar? Was it a hard decision to make and was it easy to bring up with your family and therapist, if you had one during that time?

For me it was a painful decision to drop out of school, but it wasn't a hard one - cause at that point I couldn't continue to push through no matter how much I wanted to. It also helped that my family was really supportive and respected my decision immediately. That being said, it's only on rare occasions that you actually have to choose between full time studying and dropping out of school. In many cases, dropping some classes or asking for extensions, tutoring and other accommodations can make it possible for struggling people to push through and finish their education. So I definitely encourage you to look into less final solutions than dropping out.

#chat with kat

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a-libra-writes · 4 years

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Hey! Could you do these headcanons [💖,💐] for Jaime, or Tyrion? I've been in the GoT fandom “recently” (like a month or two ago?), and I don't see much of them; especially Tyrion (I don't know book-Tyrion yet 👀). I've been reading your blog for a while, and I really like your writings; I'm taking my time to read them again jsjsj. I understand if you don't want to, or doesn't catch your eye; I hope I'm not being rude or anything, but I wanted to try my luck. Please take care and be safe! <3

welcome to our cluuuub! welcome to our cluuuuuub!

im glad youre enjoying GoT so much, and my blog! You should def give the books a try if you ever have a chance! Book Tyrion is rlly diff in many cool ways, same with Jaime.

also i uh ... did the thing where i confused the emojis again, so I did “date” for both of them as well LOL oops

💘 Tyrion Date HC

Once Tyrion really starts liking you, he takes you to the loveliest places. We’re talking walks through gardens with little ponds and animals, a covered boat ride on a river, or walking through an exciting market full of Essosi traders. The thing is, he’d never call this “courting”. That makes it too official, too serious. He plays it off as simple visits two friends would make.

He’s excellent at finding out the things you’re interested in. You aren’t aware of it, but Tyrion really pays attention to what you respond to and what you like the most. I mean, he’s already watching you because he loves you, but if you aren’t vibing with an activity and location he’ll take that into consideration for next time.

He has lots of fun experiencing new things with you, period - after you’re together, after you’re married. If he finds out about something new, he’ll tell you so you both can do it together.

Tyrion prefers more private locations, since the court is exhausting and nearly all people he meets don’t like him anyway... but there’s something exciting about having such a pretty girl on his arm, someone who clearly adores him and wants to spend time with him.

Gifts! You tell him he doesn’t have to, but he likes presenting you with little things at the beginning or end of a date. First it’s practical things, so he can brush it off as “You seemed like you could use that”, before it’s just outright pretty jewels and dresses and he has no excuse. At that point it’s because he clearly loves you.

When it’s your name day, he has such a great evening planned out. If you’re married, make that a weekend or a week to travel and enjoy a little mini-vacation. Tyrion is excellent at planning an event in secret, so you have no idea what he has in store until the morning of your birthday.

In a modern AU, he’s not too different - he wants to explore new places and new things. He’d probably live in a city and would always find the strangest hole in the wall places to eat and shop at. If you like books, or records, or clothes, he’s gonna find something really out of the way and specific.

💖Tyrion Pregnancy HC

From the time you announced your pregnancy to the entire 9 months, it was like the worst emotional whiplash he’s ever had. There are SO many thoughts going through his head. Some of them are:

One, he’s delighted you want to have a family with him. Yes, you two are married, but it’s not out of duty to the Lannisters. It’s the ultimate proof you love him, he decides - because there’s a real chance your child could turn out like him, and you don’t care. And he knows you’ll love the child if that happens. He just knows you’ll be a wonderful mother. Second, you clearly express your joy to his family and the courtiers. You’re proud and you don’t care who knows. Third, he thinks about how horrid his own upbringing was, and he’s absolutely 100% determined to be an excellent father. Fourth ...

You get the point. He’s so torn between worry - what if the child is born with a problem, what if you die in childbed, what if he turns out to be a terrible father - and absolute, unbelievable devotion. You thought he was protective and doting before? Nothing is too good for you. You have to tell Tyrion to dial it back a bit, you don’t need new clothes every month and ten sets of silken bedsheets and all this jewelry....

He’s a bundle of nerves the closer the due date is. You two might actually get into spats because you’re exhausted and achey, and he’s just a mess. Jaime actually has to knock sense into him and get him to calm down.

But once your child is born... it all washes away, like a wave carrying him. He’s so happy. He can’t even function. He wants the hold the child all the time, he wants to see them, talk to them - and he asks so many questions to you and the maester. When will the child talk? When will they walk? Can they understand him? Do they know he’s their father? And so on.

Also, his protectiveness would go through the roof. He would never forbid you from going anywhere or doing anything, but.. he would be obviously nervous if you mentioned you were going travelling or something.

And it goes without saying he’s keeping extra tabs on Cersei, certain courtiers, maybe his own father. He doesn’t trust any of them for anything.

Bronn will probably get assigned to bodyguard duty for you. He’s clearly not pleased, and you just sigh and dismiss him for the day so you don’t have to listen to his smart mouth.

He likes to feel your stomach, especially when the babe kicks! It relieves his worries that the child might be born “wrong” somehow. The fact they’re kicking, wiggling and moving, seemingly in response to him, makes him feel much better.

💐 Tyrion Family & Kids HC

He’s an excellent father, even though he has his moments of emotional hang-ups. He wants to ensure his child is educated, empathetic and uses their damn head. While he’d be doting and affection, he wouldn’t be a total pushover and can reasonably discipline them. Tyrion is great at talking to children respectfully and treating them like people.

On that note, he has no patience for someone like Cersei or his father trying to butt in on his parenting. He’ll stand up to them and firmly insist he can raise his child on his own, thank you. He won’t take any “advice” or threats from them.

He’d be quite good at figuring out what his children are talented in, and encouraging them. He’s seen what it’s like when a child is forced into a single box and hinge all their worth on that (Jaime) and when they’re looked over and ignored (him and Cersei).

Yes, he basically decides to do the opposite of whatever his father did.

There would be times when he’d want to educate his children himself, but only on certain subjects - reading and writing, for example. He trusts the maester just fine, he just wants to have that bonding opportunity with them.

(He’s so proud of all of them no matter what though 😭)

If you’d be up for it, Tyrion would like several children. He’s not 100% on how many, since he’s never really given himself a chance to hope and daydream for a family. He knows he needs a son for the Lannister line to continue, but he’d never force you to continue risking your health for that. Ultimately, however many you want, that’s what he’ll be happy with. If it’s all girls, he’ll love them the same.

💘 Jaime Date HC

It’s actually amusing how bad he is at taking you somewhere interesting. It ends up being an accident - you run into him in a beautiful garden or some obscure part of the Red Keep, and he offers to show you something interesting he found. From there, you two get lost and take a while to find your way back.

... Or you take him somewhere you thought was interesting, and he goes along with it. When you point out that Jaime is pretty bad at this “courting” business, he just scoffs and says that’s definitely not what he’s doing. He’s just visiting with ... a friend ... .... just a friend. Yup.

Another aspect is the fact he’s a Whitecloak, and he might be having to avoid Cersei. That kind of makes things dicey.

However, when he returns from the Dreadfort and that absolute hell of a journey, he’s doesn’t care so much who sees you two. He wants to get away from the Red Keep, even if that’s his duty, so he starts wandering out with you. When Jaime is patrolling on his own and sees a place of interest, he makes a mental note to bring it up to you later. And when he does, and you offer to go with him ... Well, he won’t complain.

Since you two have been so many places, he starts to associate them with you. When he’ll pass by it on his own, he thinks about something you laughed at, or something you told him there. If you ever touched his hand or his face while you two visited a garden, he will remember that touch every single time he passes by.

After you’ve known each other for a while, and he’s feeling sentimental, he’ll ask, “Do you remember those docks a mile away from the Red Keep? There was a man pushing a cart that had these colorful glasses and wares. You were wearing a blue dress, and when you dirtied it, I carried you around down the street?”

You have no idea where he’s talking about, but that’s the sort of road his memory lane is.

In the modern AU, he’s still pretty terrible at dates. He’s more of the type who wants to wander around with you and just pop into a place that seems interesting - and then he’ll associate you with it. Anytime he sees that cafe chain again, even in a different city, he remembers the hot cocoa you ordered and the little marshmallow mustache you gave yourself.

And honestly, he prefers to stay home with you, cuddling and watching something. He can be as bad as a needy cat when he wants cuddles and attention; you aren’t escaping anytime soon.

💖Jaime Pregnancy HC

Oh no.

Back when Jaime was a boy and lectured endlessly on the duties of a Lannister heir, he didn’t truly understand what that meant. Especially after Cersei coerced him into taking the white cloak, he figured he’d never have children of his own.

... Well. Then there was three. but they never felt like his, which was Cersei’s intention. It was so strange, even if they looked like him, he couldn’t connect Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen to himself.

Also, look who his father is. That’s a lot to unpack.

It’s not until he’s completely left Cersei and lost his sword hand that he starts thinking and seeing things differently. It feels different when you play with the children, when you look longingly at mothers, when he’s intimate with you and you let him finish inside. He starts thinking what it’s like, and that’s scary, considering it never crossed his mind before.

And then he thinks about how his mother died, and what it did to his father. He never openly discusses it with you, but he has nightmares about it. Jaime doesn’t sleep well for a lot of your pregnancy, especially toward the last few months. He does a little better with each child. To distract himself, he takes care of you.

He likes the idea of having two children, a boy and girl, or two boys, but he’s fine with one or more than two. Anything more than four would probably overwhelm him.

Gods save the person who threatens you, even if it’s his sister. His protective instincts go into overdrive, to the point where someone being disrespectful to you on the street will make him want to fight.

💐 Jaime Family & Kids HC

When you tell him, honestly... his first thought is what an awful parent he’d be. He had one example for what a father is like, and he was hardly an influential part in the lives of the three children he sired. You’d have to reassure Jaime and give him confidence, because he has none where this is concerned. He’s positive he’ll screw it up somehow, he’ll be too distant, or too cruel. How do you even hold a baby? What do you say to little ones? He’s going to take care of you, there’s no question of that, but his nervousness is palpable.

Still, he has such a cute smile when he holds his child - what he considers his first real one - and he right away sees you in them. Their nose, and smile, and eyes. It’s amazing, he decides.

Jaime is a terribly indulgent father. He tries to scold where he can, but more often than not he’s amused by his kid being mischievous. When they pull pranks on guests or get into fights with other kids, he’ll let them off easy if he felt like it was justified. If you’re the more disciplinary parent, the kids totally learn to go to Jaime when they want something.

He’s not overly physically affectionate, but he often ruffles their hair (even if they’re a girl with hair you just braided), gives them rides on his shoulders and lets them sit on his lap and fall asleep. He also has a habit of patting their cheeks or shoulders when he’s pleased.

Jaime didn’t think he’d be excited to teach swordplay and horseback, but he’s so happy when one of his kiddos is interested in both or either. Even if they’re a girl, he can’t help but teach her everything he knows. It also makes him feel better that he has something to teach and pass on even if he lost his sword hand.

Also ... he’s a terrifying papa lion. Do not ever even slightly threaten his children or wife in front of him. His temper and pride will flare and he’ll start a fight right there.

Related to that, he can fight off Cersei’s cruelty and coldness to you and your children together because he knows how to deal with her. If Tywin disapproved of you in some way, or was trying to take control of how the children were reared, Jaime would genuinely struggle to stand up to him. He doesn’t want his kids to go through the childhood he had, but it’s difficult for him. He won’t go into full “fuck this” mode unless the children are seriously threatened.

#libra headcanons #jaime lannister x reader #tyrion lannister x reader #got x reader #game of thrones x reader #i swear ive dorked up that date and pregnancy emoji like three times

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catsplushellhounds · 3 years

Text

favorite headcanons (and theorys?) of glee that i created

i was thinking if i really was going to write this, but im bored so lets go, this got so long and i am so sorry (not really it was fun and i liked it, if you like big metas you probably gonna like this)

*this can have some triggers for some people because i will be talking about bullying, abandonment, depression and violence*

(also i would like to say that most of this are things that i like to believe happened, and idk if the rest of the fandom agrees or if someone said it before and this is all blaine related, i left it glee on the title because it sounded better idk)

- blaine's dad is filipino and he left after blaine came out

i know that blaine said he was there in shooting stars, but hear me out

first of all, to me his name is tod anderson, dont ask me why it just makes sense and i like how it sounds.... so

in sexy, blaine tells burt that his dad tried many times bonding with him, but apparently that didnt work, because he also says "you think my dad built a car with me because he loves cars? i think he did it because he thought getting my hands dirty might make me straight." and after 4x18, he is never mentioned again? and he wasnt on his son's wedding too

so my theory here is that he never accepted that blaine is gay, and all of his "efforts of bonding" were actually because he thought he could "fix" blaine, and when that didnt worked he left, (that also explains blaine's abandonment issues) but he did came back im the shooting episode because he felt guilty for what he did, but after he saw it was a false alarme he went back on pretending he didnt have a gay son

to be really honest sometimes i pretend that his dad wasnt on the shooting day because i feel that it doesnt fit that well into this and i really like this one because its kinda obvious to me that blaine have daddy issues??? so usually i just put on my character-backstory that blaines dad left after he came out and never came back

for the first year that he was gone, blaine spended every night trying to contact him. sometimes he just texted, but most of the times he called and left a message crying begging him to come back and tell him what he'd done that made his father hate him so much, his dad never called or texted back

- blaine's parents

(im not sure if this is canon but blaine's mom is named pam)

i know that technically i've already talked about blaine's family when i was talking about his dad but that is so complex i felt i had to do a topic exclusive for that

i believe blaine has and always had a good relationship with his mother, yes she was usually gone because she works selling a really famous cosmetic line she created (to me the andersons are a really known name) that would explain how blaine could study in a school like dalton (he said so himself that dalton isnt a school that anyone could afford), and why she is never there

but despite her being busy with her job, she always tried to keep im touch with blaine, texting him, and calling and skyping

blaine always missed her, but he tried to not make her feel guilty about working too much, because she loves her job

sometimes he got really depressed, because he wished she could be there to see him sing with his friends, or just be there so that he could hang out with his mom like all of his friends did with their parents

his das was a businessman, i dont know why it just fits to me, also idk what kind of business because i dont understand any of it so thats up to imagination

before he came out, he and his dad were super close, sure his dad a lot of the time was busy but he was at home more than his mom, his dad was the one that introduced him to liking sports, and they always watched games together (cooper would join in too) and his dad always let him have a sip of his beer, blaine always loved those moments and his dad was like a hero to him, he was sure that coming out to him would be easy, because he would love him no matter what

all of the andersons have always been brodway babys, all 4 of them liked to sing, tod was a little bit more serious and didnt dance around the house like cooper, blaine and pam but he enjoyed seeing them having fun

the andersons were like the perfect family of the neirbourhood, all 4 of them are very good looking, talented and educated so yes everybody thought they were perfect

they all lived in the philippines until blaine was 5, and then moved to ohio because tod got a really good job offer there

after blaine came out, his parents argued A LOT. tod would ask himself and pam of what he had done wrong and pam would say its nobodys fault and thats just how blaine is

(to me that was the time tod was revealed to be an asshole and not long after he divorced pam and stoped talking to all of them, except for cooper, he and cooper still talked)

- blaine's bullying

the bullying blaine went through was a lot like kurt's, people laughing at him, shoving him around, beating him up, etc

he tried putting a brave face through it but he started losing all of his light, even more when all of his complains didnt matter at all

it only got sort of better when he met skylar (thats the kid he went to sadie hawkings with, i read in a fic that was his name and stuck with me so im calling him skylar)

skylar was going through the same thing he was, and one time blaine saw him getting shoved at lockers, and helped him pick up his books and thats were they started talking

maybe they liked each other, they never got to find out because after the bash, skylar never spoke to blaine again

blaine was in a 2 week coma after getting beat up, and the first thing he said when he woke up was "where's my dad" and his mom had to gently tell him his das was not there. that was when blaine realized he actually meant nothing to his dad and that broken him even more

he was bashed about 3 months after his father left him, and for the rest of that school year he was homeschooled by a teacher his mother hired

- blaine joining dalton and the warblers

so, since blaine is a year younger than kurt, in my head goes sorta of like this

he came out when he was 13, that was the time he was bullied, beaten up abandoned and homeschooled, and he joined dalton when he was 14, but to be a warbler he had to be a little older than that, so he had to audition to join (im guessing you dont have to audition to be a warbler, just to have a lead, i mean kurt didnt auditioned, right?) and and trent auditioned together, they became friends and were roomates (dalton is a boarding school DONT @ ME EVERYBODY KNOWS ITS TRUE)

it took blaine a while to take the step to audition, because he was still scared, but wes and david helped him and gave him a little seed of the confidence he pretends to have later on, but when he sang for the warblers for the first time they were all blowed away by how good was his singing voice even if he was only 14

after he felt comfortable in the warblers, he became friends with nick and jeff, and they were a trio of dumbassess, wes and david (usually the most mature of all the warblers) sighed everytime they saw nick, jeff and blaine doing something stupid

trent joined in sometimes but he always had been a really chill dude, and he saw blaine as a older brother (even tho blaine is younger than him)

jeff, nick and blaine pulled pranks on wes and david like hiding stuff from them and act all inocent when they asked if they saw said thing

the warblers had a bet going on how long would it take for kurt and blaine to start dating (and yes all of them shipped klaine, and even after kurt and blaine went to mckinley the warblers still kept hearing about them and seeing them on jacob ben israel's blog)

jeff, nick, trent, wes and david were the only real friends blaine had there

wes and david has already gratuated when the slushie happened, and nick, jeff and trent all apologized to blaine after that (even though they had no idea that was gonna happen) but their friendship was never the same

- blaine and cooper's relationship

as we know, blaine and cooper didnt got very along when blaine was growing up, cooper is 9 years older than blaine, and has always been really hard on him and thaat made blaine really dislike cooper, even tho he really wanted for them to be friends, he always has bitter feelings towards him duo to all of the pressure and expectation he was under because cooper was the oldest, and blaine felt like he had to be just as good or better than him, so he also had a lot A LOT of jealousy

but that started to change after "big brother", when they talk things out, cooper finally realizes how blaine feels, and starts doing his best to be best brother to blaine

they dont become besties immediatly, blaine helps him with his audition (which makes kurt really proud and happy seeing cooper being all excited talking to blaine, while blaine is trying to pretend like hes cool but actually hes just as excited), and they start to talk more and more after that

after finn dies is when they start getting actually close, after the funeral, he calls cooper but dosent say the reason why, he just says that he loves him and that he misses his big brother, they call and talk to each other a lot more after cooper finds out about finn

when cooper has a son, he and blaine teach the little guy how to dance and they play a lot of happy and fun piano songs to him

- the anderhummel family

blaine and burt are actually really close, they both like sports and beer so they watch games together and bet about whos gonna win, burt sorta of became the dad blaine lost, but in a non weird way, because they both agreed that blaine calling burt "dad" after he married kurt was just... weird

finn and blaine played a lot of videogames together, sam and puck played with them too, but when kurt was helping on dinner or more interested in a magazine or trying to convince carole to let him do a makeover on her, finn and blaine played videogames and maybe sometimes gossip about kurt and rachel (after he became besties with sam he did that same thing but hey playing videogames and talking about your s/o is fun!)

carole took care of blaine when he was in the hospital for the eye surgery, and when he was hangover at kurt's after biota she helped him with all the vomiting and headaches and all of that

pam met carole and burt when blaine got slushied, blaine was already like family to the hudson-hummels at that point, so when burt found out what happened he ran to the hospital, (carole was already working there anyway) and thats where they met, it wasnt ideal and all of them wete stressed and worried but they got along pretty well

pam, burt and carole werent really close since pam was usually out working, but the few times they sat down to talk to each other they really liked. pam thinks burt and carole are a sweet couple, that raised two wondeful boys and burt and carole think that pam is a sweet and funny lady, they all exchanged embarassing stories about kurt and blaine (that made them go "MOM DONT TELL THEM THAT" or "DAS STOP I WAS 7")

pam absolutely adores kurt, he was fascinated when he found out she had a line of cosmetics and spended hours talking to her about skincare routines

blaine can always make carole laugh, she thinks hes a sweetheart and usually keeps burt from bursting into the room when the door of kurts bedroom is closed ("i told them already, leave at least 2 inches open, is that really so hard??" "honey, relax they're just watching a movie" "im going in there" "no you're not leave the boys alone")

burt has walked in a few times on klaine making out on the couch and he always makes a joke about it to not make it awkward

burt was thrillled to know he was gonna be a grandpa, and he spoils tracy anderson to OBLIVION (blaine doesnt argues because he sorta of does the same thing)

even after both breakups, burt and blaine had always kept in touch, maybe it wasnt what it used to be when he and kurt were still mad at each other, but once they go back being friends, blaine is a little more comfortable in hangin out with the hudson-family

- blaine's depression in s6

i think is canon thay blaine had depression and anxiety during the whole show, right? it just got worse in s6 because kurt breaking up with him was sort of what pulled the trigger

it begun when his father neglected him, and it only got worse and worse, he was abandoned by his father and sometimes felt like by his mother and brother too, he had anxiety and it got worse after sadie hawkings, then kurt and him broke up for the first time, and he kept bottling it all up until it all reached the boiling point and it all exploded when kurt broke up with him

(side note, i think that when kurt started pulling away from him in s6, it reminded him of his dad pulling away too, his dad tried to bond with him but i feel that as harder blaine tried to make his dad stay, didnt matter and his dad kept pulling away until he was gone, that makes a parallel to s6 breakup, and why blaine was trying so SO hard to make kurt stay, because he had been there before, and he wasnt good enough for his dad, and he really wanted to be good enough for kurt)

so, after they breakup, blaine stays in a cheap hotel, not getting out of bed and feeling empty inside, his phone buzzed a little with missing calls from his friends but at some point the batery died and he just ignored, he only charged after 2 days because he probably had to let people know he's still alive

he went back to the loft in the afternoon, because he knew kurt wouldn't be there, he was going away and leaving nothing behind when kurt showed up, blaine was kinda of embarassed because he was probably stinking and his hair and clothes were a mess

im not sure if they talked at all after the breakup night, but i kinda feel that blaine might have said to kurt something like "you think i'm broken? when are gonna realize the problem here isnt just me? i should have known, everytime things get serious and scary between us you run, you're so afraid of something and honestly i have no idea of what, please just stay away from me" (i dont knooow he was angry and being all cold to kurt and shit i think that happened and maybe thats what made kurt go to therapy)

he got kicked out of nyada because he didnt left his hotel room for anything other than food, and he felt even more lost after receiving the email saying he was no longer a student there, thats when he decided to go back to lima

in lima, he barely left his room, he didnt ate for days and when he wasnt crying he was sleeping, his friends would call, text and sometimes try to visit him but he never texted back, answered the calls or opened the doors for them, sam was the only one that had some success because he was living in lima too and could go to blaine's house more often, sometimes he got lucky and blaine would open the door for him

at first he tried to do pep talks to help his bestie get better, but nothing helped so at one point he just sat there with blaine and did nothing with him, because at least like that he wouldnt be alone

one day blaine felt a little better and started trying to be okay again, it was never easy but he got a job at breadsticks, and even tho he would much rather be in his bed he kept working because at least like that his mind was busy with something

after he started therapy, he still felt empty inside, the world was still sorta of grey to him and he didnt felt like doing anything, so he had to take meds for that, and kept taking them even after kurt cane back (but as blaine was getting better they slowly became less and less needed)

when blaine started working at dalton, he was already in a much better place that he was when he came back, and throughout s6 he was still battling depression, and wasnt always okay, sometimes he would still want to just be alone and dont talk to anybody or do anything, and if that happened when he was surronded with people he would just be more quiet, that sometimes got rachel and kurt's attention, because they're not used to this "new" blaine and when they asked him if he was doing okay he would just say "yeah, im just tired" sam later on explained to them what that usually meant, it meant that blaine needed some alone time because he was draining himself a lot

- blaine at nyada vs blaine at nyu

soooo i have a good theory about this one, at nyada blaine was constantly surronded by people who would probably kill someone to get at the top, to be the best

and was such a competitive place, that ended up being toxic for blaine. i used to think that he didnt fit there because he always was one of the best in show choir and dalton and he was always *that* guy, but now i think he didnt fit there because actually he dosent like competition that much

okay, sure, playful competiton with your friends its fun, show choir competiton is fun, fighting with tina, mercedes, rachel, santana and unique about solos was fun because it was serious but he was with his friends so okay, whatever

but the competition they had at nyada was just SO MUCH, and lets agree nyada is kinda of a toxic place in general, people made fun of kurts face and clothing there, rachel's "friends" ditched her when she lost the diva off to kurt and started kissing up to him, and (im not sure about this one but like 99%) people laughed when blaine lost to kurt at combat's class

my point is, in nyada, people only like you if you do well in classes, there's a lot of lying and backstabbing going on and c'mon blaine pratically grew up like this with cooper

always not good enough, always behind, always made fun of, never being great at anything, so maybe thats why blaine felt so stressed at nyada, and why he gets so insecure in 5x16, seeing kurt being praised and getting all of that attention might have reminded him of the years he and cooper didnt get along so well

he didnt found himself at nyada, mostly he was there because it was said to be the best school and rachel and kurt were there, so great, right?

but i get the feeling that at nyu things were a little lighter, not easier, but lighter, it didnt had so much toxic people, it wasnt a place where it was kill or be killed, people helped each other when needed and yes there was still competition, obviously but (almost) nobody made fun of people for failing

(i said almost there because im sure there was some douchbags there too, they're everywhere, but i hope you got my point)

- blaine's friendships

i am almost done i am so sorry this is so long i've been here for like 2 hours

i have some small headcanons about blaine's friends, because we did NOT get enough of his friendships (im leaving kurt out of this one because maybe one day ill do a meta/hc/theory about klaine....... maybe)

mike and blaine were besties on s3

they both like to dance and sometimes they+brittany would do a dance number together, sometimes for the glee club to see, sometimes only to themselves because thats fun

mike talked with blaine after the its not right but its okay number to see what happened and if he was okay (actually it was mostly blaine just venting about it "AND THEN HE SAID HE WANTED TO MAKE KURTS VOICE HIS RINGTONE I MEAN WHAT THE FUCK????????")

blaine talked to mike about mike's dad because he knew what mike was going through and they both agreed thay family sucks sometimes

after mike graduated he and blaine kept têxtil each other and sometimes sending gifs or videos of dance moves to each other

santana and blaine were actually really good friends

after the glee club found out about what santana's grandmother had done when she came out, when they were alone blaine told santana about his dad, even tho he was afraid she was gonna tell everyone because he doesnt like talking about it, just so that she would know that shes not alone and its not her fault, santana never once teased or told anyone about this, she always sorta of liked him and thought he was nice but that moment she started seeing him as a friend

while preparing for the new directions vs warblers in 3x11, santana tried helping blaine bring out his inner bad boy, she helped him pick his outfit and they planned together the whole performance

(im stealing this one from a post i rebloged i guess a day ago? i didnt found the blog to tag but this is the post) > santana and blaine are friends on facebook, and follow each other on twitter and instagram, and they always spam on each others profiles because they're comfortable to do that with each other

santana kinda sees blaine as a male version of brittany, so she has this need of protecting him (which is kinda why she was super invested in getting him justice for his eye)

speaking of his eye, when he was at home before surgery, santana went there and told that she was gonna make sebastian confess what he'd put on thr slushie, blaine asked her how she knew where she lived but she cut him off, she also came back there after and told him everything, and she and kurt asked him what he wanted to do about it

brittany and blaine really were sunshine twins

they always liked each other, blaine didnt get her at first, but he got used to it

she always talked to him about cats, and what lord tubbington was up to, she tried inviting him to fondue for 2 but he knew that she would ask some really private questions so he always came up with an excuse

after he almost went back to dalton, she (alongside with tina, sam and marley) tried to make him feel as welcome as possible

when she was dating sam, sometimes the three of them would go to her house after school and cuddle in her bed with lord tubbington while watching a movie

when britt was planning their weddings, she asked blaine to try up some suits (with the excuse that she wasnt sure the one she picked was right), but she asked him that like a day after he kissed kurt at rachels party so she could tell he was kinda sad and asked him why, he told her and she said it was gonna be okay because their love was magical (it was weird but it did made blaine feel good, so...) she was also the only person he told that

blaine and britt always have ideas like "we should totally put glitter in the entire room to celebrate our wedding aniversary!" kurt and santana shut down the idea at the same time

blamtina were like 3 chaotic brothers

sam and blaine would have a dumb idea that would result in absolute chaos (but funny tho) and tina always plays along with them even if she thinks its a bad idea

the three of them are completely harry potter nerds, sam and blaine are hufflepuffs while tina is a ravenclaw, in a halloween party in s4 they went as the golden trio

after graduation, sam and blaine still skyped tina and told her all about ny, and she would tell them all about her collage

sam kept his promise of sending his imitations to tina and blaine sometimes would call her to vent about a fight he and kurt had

blaine read all of the harry potter books to sam

after sam talked blaine into staying at mckinley, sam and tina would always be with blaine, always talking to him, and spending time with him, thats how the 3 of them got so close

marley and blaine were good friends

when marley joined the new directions, blaine was one of the first to make her feel welcome

when blaine almost left for dalton, she tried make him see that she liked him in the nd too, and would randomly start talking to him so that he wouldnt feel alone

she would rant about jake to him sometimes, like how he wanted to have sex but she wasnt ready, and blaine told her she should do it only when she felt comfortable

after she got suspended, he apologized for yelling at her because of the performance, and remembered mr schue that she was recovering from an eating desorder and that he shouldnt be so hard at her

unique and blaine were "frenemies"

they started off not liking each other, since they both wanted it to be the new rachel, even after blaine won, he and unique still were kinda competitive with each other

but eventually they became sort-of-friends, they sang together sometimes when no one else was there, and they liked to pretend to not like each other but yes they did and it was just their thing

sometimes marley would do a sleepover and she would call blaine, unique and tina, while marley was talking about jake or tina was talking about missing mike, blaine would braid unique's wig and she would try to convince him to let her see his hair without gel

when the whole plot of unique and the bathroom happened, when mr schue told everyone he couldnt give up twerking, blaine stood up for unique saying that wasnt fair and mr schue should try harder to help her, he also held her hand (alongside with marley) when she was scared of having to go to the bathroom again

blaine and mercedes talked to each other more than twice :O

lol ok im not sorry for that title

mercedes and blaine LIVED together people, she used to be kurts best friend, and sams girlfriend are you telling me they barely talked to each other? no

in fact, they really like each other's company, blaine is kinda of a goofball and mercedes thinks its funny

he would ask her to talk to sam when blaine wanted something from him, and mercedes did the same with kurt

sam and blaine would do stupid things together (like dance around their house in their underwear) just to make mercedes laugh, they swore to never tell anyone, and they never did

sometimes at 3 am when no one could sleep they would all have a little dance party until they got tired

blaine and mercedes are junky food addicts, they eat healthy and stuff but they love some cake at 5 in the morning

one time when kurt and mercedes were arguing about the tots, blaine sided with mercedes and told her he agreed that tots are delicious

#ok i think thats it #if you read it until the end.... are you okay?#i had some more but i want to post this today and i want to go to sleep so lets leave it like that #maybe i should have splitted in 2 parts???? its so long 😳#i hope this didnt get to tiring to read #anywayyyyy #glee #blaine meta #blaine anderson #blangst #ps if you see some mispelling ignore it im kinda sleepy so... hehe

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korissideblog · 3 years

Text

[slams my guitar into the stage bc im past my teen years and yet still full of unbridled teenage rage]

so this ending is dumb and stupid and I hate it 😭 pretty much the plan for this fic was just a bunch if monologuing, and I didn’t know how I was gonna end it till I was. ending it.

ok, groveling aside, fic uses characters labled in part 1. I’m very sleepy. Here’s part 2 of

The Hedonist

“Jetsam Kisa?”

“Yes.” Aito shuttered, as if a sudden cool wind had blown through the room. “He was my best friend… and… well look at me now.”

Normally when this was said by someone draped in silk and gold, it was supposed to be a positive thing, but the pain in Aito’s face told the real weight of it all. How heavy the luxury really was.

“I’m sorry.”

“No need to be.” Aito mumbled, quickly waving off the comforting words. “You haven't done anything to cause it.”

“I'm not sorry for something done wrong, I’m sorry that I can’t help you through it.” Sakura said, her voice lowering as she explained herself, frowning a bit as Aito finally removed his hand from her’s.

“Again, no need.” Aito repeated, stepping back from the settee. “Despite appearances, I’m fairly settled in it. Despite… everything...” she said, gesturing vaguely. “I know who I am. And who I am is a villain.” a small smirk tugged at Aito’s lips as Sakura handed the book back. “I’d even go to say I'm your best villain.”

“I’m not one to disagree, pet, but may I ask,” Sakura continued, watching Aito over her shoulder. “Why would you label yourself so?”

“Simple.” Aito chuckled, walking the book back to the shelf it belonged to. “Given my background, I know more about any hero we encounter than anyone else.”

Sakura squinted as Aito slipped the book back into the empty spot. “Given your background?” she repeated.

“As a past student of UA, I’d say I know most of the heroes out there- and their abilities- fairly intimately.” Aito hummed, pleased with the shocked face Sakura made when he turned to face her.

“Checkmate… you have a long leash- I let you associate with who you please, I let you go and come from this place as you wish, you have more say in my plans than I afford to many- but… I hope you understand my… insecurity in this.” she said, lowering her voice as if Aito’s education was something to be kept secret. “The implications alone are dizzying.”

“I know, but believe me, Sakura san.” Aito said, his face falling back into its usual stoic expression. “I buried my sympathies for my classmates a long time ago.” Sakura still felt a tinge of nervousness, but it melted away as Aito returned to her side. “I do what I want now, without regard for good or bad. Interesting how I seemed to fall right in line with people like you.” he hummed hurmously, patting Sakura’s shoulder in a rare display of affection.

“I’d say.” Sakura laughed as Aito quickly removed his hand. “Interesting though, that people’s suffering is what you want.” she mentioned, tapping her cheek as if considering it. “Masochist.”

“The word you’re looking for is sadist.” Aito corrected her. “The correct word is schadenfreude- but I prefer hedonist.” Aito noticed Skaura’s eyebrow raise minutely, as if asking a silent question. “Hedonism being the philosophy of pleasure. Though not a slave to my whims, I still try to give myself anything I want. My goal is to maximize pleasure, and I think I do it well.” she explained further. “Villainy… Well, if heroism was this fun, I would be a hero.” he paused, shrugging, “but it’s not… so I’m not.”

Sakura smiled, seemingly pleased with the answer as she resettled herself on the settee. “Authur Ashe once said ‘True heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost.’ I believe myself heroic, at least in the sense that I serve villainous causes.” Sakura reasoned, purposefully perverting the message “But you… you don’t serve anything but yourself?” she asked, her smile widening as she looked up at the villain before her. “How do you justify it then? All of this.” Sakura continued, grinning as Aito sat down next to her feet, unusual behavior for the distant and stoic man Sakura knew. “Who does your heroism serve, pet?”

Aito paused, thinking hard as he leaned against the back of the little couch. “I don’t believe it serves you, Sakura san.” Aito reasoned, his hands slipping behind his back as if in thought. “Nor any specific villainous cause… I guess I’d say that my heroism serves my friends, my community, and my family.” Aito settled, her posture straightening as she turned to face Sakura. “As well as the heroes of Japan.” and before Sakura could even process the sentence, Aito was already tackling her to the ground.

The fight was short, Aito quickly getting the upper hand on the villain, and pinning her on her stomach as he cuffed her hands behind her back. “Checkmate!” Sakura barked, struggling under Aito’s knee. “What are you doing!”

But she was ignored, the character Checkmate immediately falling as Aito came back into the spotlight. “I already told you! I’m doing what I want!” he giggled, Sakura shouting in protest as he stood up and kicked over the settee. From his pocket Aito produced a small folding knife, which he used to cut open the bottom of the couch. Aito stuck her hand into the space and pulled out a bulky handheld radio. She flicked it on and messed with the knobs till there was a definite beep, quickly pressing the button on the side. “Iku! Yessam! My 9 months are up!” she chirped, Sakura stunned by the difference between her teammate and this new person, both somehow seeming to share the same body. “Yua Sakura is detained, I’m gonna need help for transport though.”

“Detained- you can’t detain me you brute!” Sakura barked, the chains around her wrists clattering as she fought against them. She was happily ignored by Aito.

There was a pause, and then a scratchy voice came through the other side of the radio. “Great job Aito!” the man replied, seemingly just as excited as Aito. “We'll be there in half an hour! Just keep Sakura entertained till then.”

Aito nodded quickly, looking down on the villain with a grin. “Awe you should have seen it, Ikuto! I was monologuing and everything! I was like a real life villain!” she giggled

“Troubling how well you can do that.” a different voice now, one Aito seemed just as pleased to hear. “But still impressive, good job Aito.”

“You bet your ass it was!” Aito yelled in excitement, practically bouncing in place. “Awe, I missed you guys so much! My hair is… wow, it’s rough. Blonde is not my color.” she laughed, noticing Sakura messing with the chains on her handcuffs and immediately realizing what was going on. “h-hold on there!” she barked, kicking Sakura’s side to discourage her from using her quirk against the metal.

“I-I can’t believe! You were nothing when I found you!” She yelled, curling in on herself to guard against any other attacks.

“God she’s a pain to deal with- but whatever! Jetsam! You have to take me to get my hair cut! Long is cute but it makes everything so much harder! Do you know how many times I’ve been grabbed by the hair? It’s wicked what people do to me.” he whined, glaring at Sakura before stepping away from her side.

“Sounds like a plan Aito.” Jetsam laughed, the background noise probably coming from whatever vehicle they were using to find the hide away. “Are you starting on the scene? We may not have a lot of time before the rest of the villains arrive.”

“Already on it!” Aito laughed, shoving her shoulder into a nearby bookcase and watching it fall into the ones behind it. “After this we only need to torch the place a bit, and it’ll look just like a kidnapping!” she giggled, watching all the books spill onto the floor with a chaotic glee.

“You- you traitor!” Sakura screamed from her spot on the floor, seemingly not enjoying the mess like Aito was, and still struggling against the cuffs. “I’ll destroy you- ruin you- I’ll burn- your heart.” She had actually managed to sit up by the time Aito had strolled over, but was quickly stopped by the hero.

“Awe…”Aito cooed, leaning over a bit to look the woman in the eye. “You’re cute when you’re mad, too bad you weren’t this entertaining the entire time. Hell, maybe I would have become an actual villain.” he joked dryly. “Sorry for this, but I can’t have you getting away.” Aito smirked, not looking sorry at all as he threw a punch at her temple, knocking her out cold.

“Mama always says never to hit a lady.” Aito sighed, talking back into the radio

“I think these are extenuating circumstances. Mama would understand.” Ikuto laughed, back in control of the radio. “Jetsam’s driving, we’ll be there soon. Have fun destroying the place.”

And have fun, Aito definitely did.

#Nico said I should have fixed the beginning #And I really really agree but I didn’t know how and #[rattles the bars of my cage with. malice]#this is the first fic that I actively dislike #Hoooo it gets so off topic and aisgjsvsjsbshs #Why must I write Good Stories with a Coherent Plot #Isn’t it enough for me to just Have Thoughts on philosophy?#Bnha oc comeback #knha // kimi no hero academia #aito takao #jetsam kisa #ikuto maekawa #Literally punching the air as we speak I hate this fic so much

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freddiesaysalright · 4 years

Text

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes - Chapter 5

Gwilym!Prince Charming x Reader

Summary: After losing your parents, your step-family makes your life impossible. That is, until Prince Gwilym holds a ball. It’s your one chance for everything to change.

Word Count: 4.1k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @the-moving-finger-writes, @assembledherethevolunteers, @rose-writes-prose, @queenlover05, @26-7-49, @drowsebaby, @im-an-adult-ish, @queen-paladin, @rogerina-owns-me, @mirkwoodshewolf, @namelesslosers, @headl0ng, @captvianswaan, @folietracksix, @baltimoresweethearts, @killer-queen-87, @haileymoreolikestupid, @itsametaphorgwil, @misslolasworld, @whitequeen-ofwillowgreen

A/N: It’s the grand finale! Thank you again for all the lovely responses to this fic! I can’t believe I’m almost done with the Disney AUs already! also i barely proofread this because i was so excited to post it so if you see a typo no you didnt

Warning(s): brief descriptions of abuse

Moodboard

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 here we go!!!

Frank and his daughters came home about an hour after you did. You were already back in your servant clothes and waiting by the door. You took their cloaks and bags, and began hanging them on the rack in the main hall.

“How was your night?” you asked politely.

“It was a splendid evening, Y/N,” Frank answered. “More than you could ever hope for.”

“I’m sure it was,” you returned, holding back a smirk. If only he knew.

“I’m relieved to see you have not stolen anything else from my wife’s closet,” he sneered.

You shook your head. “No, sir. I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ve been thoroughly educated.”

“Very good,” he said, seeming displeased that he couldn’t goad you.

But nothing could spoil this night. It was perfect.

“Is there anything you need before going to bed?” you asked.

“I’m fine, but you’ll of course help the girls get changed,” he said.

You nodded again. “Absolutely.”

He watched you suspiciously as you followed your step sisters up the stairs. You were calm. Too calm. And you were humming, which you didn’t normally do. Plus the tune was something he had heard somewhere - but no event would have had you in attendance. His frown deepened. Something was up.

***

Gwilym returned to the palace two hours later, empty handed and broken-hearted. Rami and Ben were waiting on the steps for him, but as he walked up, he only shook his head. They sighed, disappointed for their friend. Thankfully, the remaining guests had all gone home.

“Sorry, mate,” Ben said.

“There was no sign of her?” Rami asked.

“No,” Gwilym said. “Even the carriage tracks just seemed to disappear. It was like she just vanished.”

“So, all we’ve got to go on is the shoe?” Ben wondered, holding it up.

Gwilym had only entrusted his best friends with it, and they had kept it from his father.

“It’s made of glass,” Gwilym said. “Which means it only fits her.”

“So what are we gonna do?” Rami asked. “Try the shoe on every woman in the kingdom?”

“Only the single women,” Gwilym said, as if it were obvious.

Rami and Ben shared a surprised look.

“I hope you’re joking,” Ben said.

“Far from it,” Gwilym replied. “I’m going to find that girl, and I’m going to marry her.”

Rami sighed. “Very well, then. But let’s start in the morning.”

“Thank you both,” Gwilym said, relieved. They had every reason to leave now. Both had duties at home, and had done what was socially expected. With the ball over, there was no obligation to stay. “Really.”

“Of course we’re gonna help you,” Ben said. “But I’m with Rami. Starting tomorrow.”

“You guys go on up, I’ll be right behind you,” Gwilym insisted.

His friends shrugged, but did as he requested and went inside. Gwilym remained, holding that glass piece of you carefully in the crook of his arm. He looked out into the night sky, hoping somehow you could feel his desperation.

“I am coming for you, my darling,” he said quietly.

***

You yawned as the sun peered into your room through your curtains. You were feeling unusually light this morning. Like you were still floating just above the ballroom floor. With a contented sigh, you stretched and forced yourself out of bed. Frank and the girls would be needing their breakfast soon, but you knew you had a little extra time today. They’d certainly have a bit of a lie in after the late night.

You threw your dress and apron on. You did a spin around your room, giggling as you imagined Gwilym there with you. Then you had to slow to a stop. It was a fantasy, nothing more. One glorious night. But now it was time to return to reality and your true life. Still, you could cling to the dream for one morning.

Humming to yourself, you put the pot on to boil and began prepping plates for breakfast. You set a pan atop the stove to start some sausages when you heard the jingle of a bell. You looked at the wall. It was coming from Eleanor’s room, so you guessed she was up. You asked Elsie to start the food and went back upstairs to get your step sister dressed. When you reached the landing, you saw Frank emerging from his room, already dressed.

“Good morning,” you said kindly.

“Y/N, what did you get up to last night?” he asked.

“Why, nothing, sir,” you said. “I cleaned up, as you instructed, changed clothes, and got a head start on some other chores. When those were done, I occupied myself by reading.”

He seemed skeptical. “I see. I hope you weren’t reading anything too fanciful. You mustn’t fill your mind with...unrealistic dreams and fantasies.”

Your brow furrowed with confusion. What was he implying?

“No, sir,” you said. “I try to keep everything practical.”

“Good,” he said. “Now get to work.”

You nodded, a bit perplexed, but continued into Eleanor’s room.

***

In the morning, Gwilym was the first up. He hardly slept at all. He wrote a decree for his father to send out, that he and Ben and Rami would be making the rounds through town and the countryside to find the owner of the missing shoe. They would begin today, and search until the prince had found his lost love.

To his shock, the king agreed to this. He read over it at the breakfast table, nodding at each point. The ladies were to try on the shoe and if it fit, it must be the girl who Gwilym met at the ball.

“Very well,” he said. “You’ll begin today?”

“Yes,” Gwilym said. “I want to find her as soon as possible.”

“Alright, son,” the king replied. He looked at the prince and offered a sincere smile. “And best of luck.”

Gwilym beamed. “Thank you, Father!”

And so, they began their search within the palace, where the out of town noble guests were staying. Gwilym had his doubts about those girls because he met them before you even came through the door. But he knew everyone deserved a fair chance. When the shoe fit none of those women, they made their way into town, with a few guards along for protection.

***

Frank received a letter from the palace early in the morning. He looked it over and you saw a flash of...something cross his face. You couldn’t place the emotion though. It seemed almost like a glimmer of hope. His eyes glanced over at you before quickly turning to his daughters.

“Girls, get yourselves looking nice,” he said. “We’ll be having visitors from the palace this afternoon.”

“The palace?” you questioned, without meaning to, but you could hardly help yourself.

“Yes, but that isn’t any of your business, Y/N,” he snapped. “Get my daughters ready and then proceed with your chores as usual. You are not to make your presence known while the visitors are here.”

You nodded apologetically. As you made your way back to the kitchen, you wondered if the visitors Frank referred to could be Gwilym and his father. Was he looking for you? Something in your heart told you he was, but you hardly even dared to hope. Such a thing was the stuff of dreams. And yet, the ball seemed like a dream too, but it was as real as the tea kettle you carried. You began devising a plan.

As the day wore on, you completed your chores quickly. You wanted to prepare yourself as well. Your gut was telling you Gwilym was on his way to take you away from here. And you had all the proof you needed in that slipper that was hidden beneath your bed. So when you finished sweeping the entrance hall, you ran up to your room to get it. Only, when you opened your door, you came to an abrupt stop. Frank was sitting on your bed, holding the slipper by the heel. One wrong move of his fingers and it would fall, risking a break.

“Well, well, well,” he said darkly. “I had a feeling you had made your way to the ball. You’ve been far too dreamy to have had as dull a night as you claim.”

Your heart rate quickened.

“That’s mine,” you said, feeling childish as the words left your mouth. “It was given to me.”

Frank laughed humorlessly. “Oh, likely story. I suppose this is another one of my wife’s things you stole.”

“You cannot stop me from this,” you said, ignoring the accusation. “The prince loves me.”

“Against his better judgement, I believe that’s true,” he admitted.

You blinked, surprised at your step father’s nonchalance about this. Did that mean he would accept it? No. There had to be something else he was getting at.

“As it is, though,” he said. “You’re spoken for.”

You frowned as your stomach dropped.

“What are you talking about?” you asked.

“You’re mine, Y/N,” he said, getting to his feet and straightening his jacket with his free hand. “And mine alone.”

A chill ran down your spine. Was he really saying what you thought he was saying?

“I’m not a slave, Frank,” you said. “I am free to do this.”

“I do not intend to make you my slave,” he said. “I intend to make you my wife.”

Your body went rigid as the blood ran out of your face. The very idea made your stomach churn. The thought of being his wife, sharing his bed, bearing his children...you nearly heaved right there in front of him.

“No,” you said firmly. “I won’t.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice,” he said.

“It’s sick!” you cried. “I’m your daughter!”

“Step daughter,” he said. “I will have this estate, Y/N. You will do for me what your mother could not. My son will be the true and rightful heir, and start a new line.”

“Are you not happy with the children you have?” you wondered, completely rocked to your core. “Why do you insist on a son?”

“Sons are the only useful offspring,” he scoffed. “Daughters are just mouths to feed until you can marry them off, and even then, what’s theirs will never belong to their family. It belongs to their husbands. Well, I am not going to lose everything because my previous wives were too weak to give me what I want.”

“I will not,” you refused again. “I’ll run away.”

“And leave behind your home?” he taunted. “The one your father built so lovingly with your mother?”

“It will no longer be a home to me if I am trapped in such a marriage,” you said.

“I’m not giving you a choice, Y/N,” he sighed. “I’ll keep eyes on you everywhere, I’ll lock you in your room, whatever it takes. Or, you can submit to me now and become mistress of this house as you were born to be.”

“I’ll die before I marry you,” you spat. “I’ll die before I bear any child of yours. I’ll -”

“No need to go on,” he said. He was being alarmingly calm about this. “I know the rest. But you will marry me, Y/N. You will have my son, and you’ll do it all without complaint. Just as you have with everything I have ever given you.”

You blinked again. So everything he’d put you through was a test? A way to manipulate you into obeying his every command? He was...grooming you? Your stomach gave another lurch.

“But first,” he said. “We will need to squash your dreams of Prince Gwilym.”

“What do you -”

He cut off your question by hurling your slipper into the wall. It shattered with a crash, which drowned out your anguished cry. You sank to your knees, hopeless.

“There now,” he said. “I’m only teaching you the harsh lesson of reality.”

Tears fell freely down your cheeks. You heard loud knocking at the front door, but barely registered it.

“That’ll be him,” Frank said.

You snapped to your senses and started to rise for one last desperate escape attempt, but Frank was faster. You felt the blow of his palm against your cheek before you even saw it coming. You fell to the ground, face throbbing. You wanted to scream, or cry, or swing back at him, but you were completely numb from the shock. You couldn’t feel anything but the sting on your skin.

“Do not resist me again, Y/N,” Frank warned.

With that, he walked out of your room, and you heard him turn the lock. You were trapped. You curled into a ball on your floor and wept quietly.

***

Gwilym was relieved when the door finally opened. This was the last house of the day. He saw a man there, whose smile was...unconvincing to say the least. He bowed.

“We are happy to see you, Prince Gwilym,” he said. “I am Frank Tarleton, and I believe one of my daughters is the girl you’re searching for.”

Gwilym raised a brow. “But you don’t know which?”

Frank blinked, taken aback, and then laughed an empty sort of laugh. “Good one, your highness. Please, come in.”

Gwilym looked at Ben and Rami who both shrugged. They followed Frank inside and into the drawing room, where two young women sat on the couch, looking nervous. Ben explained everything, with Frank nodding eagerly along. Something about the man struck Gwilym as slimy. He was too polite, too eager to please, and it seemed even his own daughters were made uncomfortable by him. Gwilym sighed.

“Let’s get this over with,” he mumbled.

He was beginning to lose hope. Who was left, if not these girls? And yet, neither of them struck him as the one he was looking for.

***

You listened carefully at your door, not daring to make any more noise. If Frank returned, he might do worse than strike you. But you could listen to what was happening downstairs.

It was a bit maddening to hear, though. To be so close to Gwilym now, and yet so far. To be a prisoner now in your own home was worse than being a servant. And the worst part was seeing the proof of your identity lying in pieces beside you. You felt like the slipper. Broken. Completely in pieces. Like your dreams too.

You heard the front door open and close again. You went to your window and watched Gwilym mount his horse, his friends on either side of him, and trot away toward town. Was that truly the last time you would see your love?

It couldn’t be. Now, you could hear Frank’s familiar footsteps coming back up the stairs. You knew you had to make a break for it as soon as he opened the door. You braced yourself. You had no time to pack anything, no time to grab money or valuables. You would have to break away with nothing but the clothes on your back and a prayer.

You watched the doorknob turn, feeling as if everything was in slow motion. It creaked slowly open and Frank’s body appeared in the door frame. He reached for you, but you ducked under his arm, darted down the hall, flew down the stairs, and straight out the front door.

You ran. As fast as your legs could carry you, not even daring to look back to see if Frank was in pursuit. You just hurtled toward town, hoping that anyone could help you. You would give up your home, and everything you knew - you would even give up your life - before marrying Frank. You had to escape, even if it meant becoming a beggar.

You burst through the back door of the tavern, tears streaming down your cheeks, and chest heaving. Flying through the kitchen, you threw open the doors to the dining area and found Zelda behind the bar. She looked up at the commotion you were making, took in the sight of you, and her brow furrowed.

“Zelda, please!” you cried, frantic. “I need help!”

You went to her, and she took you in her arms.

“Y/N, what’s -”

She didn’t get to finish her question before Frank came barreling through. He must not have been far behind. You let out a scream. Zelda pushed you behind her and you cowered at her back. She put her arms out to shield you further.

“Zelda, remove yourself if you know what’s good for you,” Frank threatened.

“Don’t, Zelda, please!” you begged. “Don’t let him take me! He’s going to force me to marry him! Please!”

She stiffened in front of you. “Oh, no you don’t, Frank. I will not stand by and let you do this.”

“Stand back or you’re fired,” he warned.

“I don’t care,” she shot back. “I won’t let you have her!”

“I’m afraid it’s not up to you,” he returned harshly.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to move her, but Zelda was a stout woman with considerable strength. She resisted him, taking hold of his biceps and forcing him back several steps. Her advantage was clearly gained by the element of surprise.

“Run, Y/N!” she cried. “Get out of here!”

Panicked, you leapt over the counter and wrenched the door open. You threw yourself out of it, trying to ignore the sounds of the struggle behind you. You darted into the street and sprinted as fast as you could away from the tavern. You had no idea where you would go from here - but you could not stay and be forced into a lifetime of Frank.

You glanced back. To your horror, you saw that Frank was emerging from the tavern and had spotted you right away. With a gasp, you turned back around and sped up. Only, as you turned, you didn’t realize what was in front of you. You ran right smack into a man’s back. The force of the collision put you on your rear in the dirt.

Wincing, you looked up. Your jaw dropped. It was Gwilym!

He met your gaze and froze as well. For a moment, you were both back at the ball, when he’d come up to you on the stairs and asked you to dance. He recognized you instantly.

“It’s you,” he whispered.

You opened your mouth to respond, but a sudden stinging on your scalp caused you to cry out instead. Frank had fisted his hand around your hair and dragged you to your feet.

“Your highness!” he gasped, noticing Gwilym. “I do apologize. My servant here has forgotten her manners.” He looked at you and continued through gritted teeth. “And her place.”

He yanked your hair on the last word for extra emphasis. Gwilym’s chest tightened as he watched Frank manhandle you. He briefly imagined himself drawing his sword and plunging it right into Frank’s chest, but he refrained.

“Release her,” he ordered.

Frank looked at the prince, bewildered.

“I’m sorry?” he questioned.

Gwilym’s expression darkened. “I told you to release her.”

Frank hesitated.

“Now!” Gwilym shouted.

You relaxed when Frank finally let go. Your scalp still itched with soreness. You desperately wanted to throw yourself into Gwilym’s arms but you were still afraid of what Frank might do. You did take a cautious step back.

“Your highness, I’m dealing with an unruly servant girl,” Frank said. “But she is mine and I may do with her as I please.”

Your lip trembled and you shook your head.

“That’s not true,” you sobbed. “You know it’s not, I’m your step daughter and you’re forcing me to -”

“SILENCE!” Frank roared, and raised his hand.

You shrieked and covered your face with your arms. But the blow didn’t come. You peeked out, lowering your shield just barely. Gwilym had taken hold of Frank’s wrist. Rami and Ben, who you just noticed being present, both had their hands on their swords. Now was your chance.

“Don’t let him take me back,” you begged again. “Please, your highness, don’t let him.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Zelda trotting up the street. She halted when she took in the scene before her.

“Sir Tarleton,” Gwilym said, releasing Frank’s arm. “We were at your home and I asked you if you had any more women residing there besides your daughters. You lied.”

“It wasn’t a lie, really,” Frank argued. “Just an omission. You see, there’s no way this girl was at the ball when I forbid her from going.”

“If that’s true, then you are still in trouble,” Gwilym said. “All eligible maidens were to attend.”

“She’s only a servant -”

“I know you’re lying, Tarleton,” Gwilym interrupted. “Now stand down.”

Frank stepped away from the prince, shooting glances between him and you. Gwilym turned to Ben.

“The slipper please, Ben,” he said.

“No!” Frank protested, starting toward you, but Rami stopped him.

Ben handed Gwilym the slipped you’d left behind on the staircase. You wiped your cheeks, clearing away the dirt and tears, and held your prince’s gaze. You smiled at him.

“I knew you were the girl from the tavern,” he said gently. “I knew I recognized you.”

“And the cemetery,” you reminded him.

“Yes,” he chuckled. “I remember.”

“How did someone like you even notice someone like me?” you wondered, amazed.

“Because you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” he told you simply. “Inside and out. And from that moment in the cemetery I saw what you truly are - a princess.”

You flushed, looking bashfully at the ground.

“I’m not really a -”

“Maybe not by birth,” he said. “But in heart.”

You met his eyes again. Those eyes that from the first time you saw them, told you the kindness of this man’s soul.

He knelt down onto one knee, holding out the slipper. It made you ache for the lost one Frank smashed, but you were relieved that you had left one behind at the palace. You toed off your boot and raised your leg. Ben stepped closer to help you balance and you shot him a grateful look. Then, you slid your delicate foot into the glass slipper. It fit perfectly.

Gwilym’s face lit up like a firework. Ben let go of your hand as Gwilym laughed, took you up in his arms and spun you around. You giggled with joy as well. He lowered you gently to the ground.

“Now, will you please tell me your name?” he asked.

You chuckled. “It’s Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeated, and cupped your cheek in his palm. “How beautiful.”

“No!” Frank shouted again, and this time Rami had to grab him to stop him. “No! You cannot take her from me!”

“The girl does not belong to you,” Gwilym said sternly. He turned and faced Frank. “I see very clearly now that you have been mistreating her. She is free to choose whatever she likes.”

“I’m her father!” Frank insisted.

“Step father,” you said. Then you looked up at Gwilym. “I choose you, my love.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he replied. “Sir Tarleton, you’ll be taken into custody.”

Frank’s eyes went wide as the guards moved to take him from Rami. They clapped iron rings around his wrists. He seemed too shocked to struggle.

“Take him to the dungeon to await trial for his crimes,” Gwilym instructed. He faced you again. “And you, my darling, may come with me to the palace.”

“For how long?” you wondered.

“Forever, if you wish it,” he assured you.

“I could hardly wish for more,” you said happily.

He took your hand and helped you onto his horse. Together, you headed for safety, and building a life together. In true love.

***

You and Gwilym married as soon as possible. The whole kingdom was thrilled at the wedding. Frank was tried and convicted for his abuse, but would not serve a life sentence, so instead of prison, he was banished from the kingdom. Even so, early in your marriage to Gwilym, you frequently had nightmares where your stepfather returned.

Gwilym was as loving and patient a partner as you could hope for. He let you talk through your trauma, and he made sure to never do anything that caused you fear. His support helped you to truly heal.

Your step sisters had to move from the estate, which was now yours entirely. Eleanor and Miranda were surprisingly happy to take over their father’s first business, the tavern, which they ran successfully with Zelda. They both eventually found merchant husbands and lived peacefully, and you were genuinely happy for them.

But the greatest joy Gwilym ever gave you was your children. You had two boys and two girls, and they were the light of the whole kingdom’s eye - but especially the king, who lived a long and healthy life with his grandchildren. You had no other description for your life besides happily ever after.

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