madam mercy

Quand la dernière patiente de la journée est en couple, que c'est une grossesse voulue, que les deux ont un emploi stable, qu'elle n'est ni obèse ni diabétique ni hypertendue et n'a aucun problème de santé, qu'elle ne fume pas et qu'EN PLUS elle est arrivée à l'heure.

grade — megan fox.


“Tu me voir après la classe. (See me after class.)” Ms. Fox muttered into my ear lowly as she corrected the grammar on my paragraph. Her hand flowed across the canvas of the paper as my work was fixed into perfect French, and I sank my teeth into my bottom lip. 

“Oui, madame.” I answered, nodding my head in compliance as she pushed herself off the floor and made her way to the front of the classroom, hips swaying and hair flowing down her back. I pressed my legs together a little, and tried to go back to concentrating on my classwork, but all I could imagine was burying myself deep into the crevice of her cleavage.

I had a presumption that she wanted to speak to me about my dangerously low grade in the course, but in my defense, she was so positively distracting with her raw magnetism that I could never truly focus on my schoolwork. Still, the hour went by normally as she spoke, writing vocabulary onto the whiteboard and handing out graded assignments. I wasn’t too worried on the matter. 

Finally, the bell rang and relieved girls rushed out of the room with their bags in tow, leaving the two of us as the last ones around within seconds. The door shut with a gentle slam and I couldn’t seem to look up from my desk, my cheeks instantly flushing. Ms. Fox had been one of the few teachers who I genuinely liked (not only because of how hot she was), and to disappoint her only made me feel worse. 

“Ma cheri, savez-vous pourquoi j’ai demandé que vous restiez après la classe? (My darling, do you know why I ask that you stay after class?)”  Ms. Fox began, perching herself on the desk in front of me. She leaned her palms against the tabletop. I mustered up the courage to meet her in the eyes, and fought not to get lost in her ocean. 

“Because I’m nearly failing?” I replied, and she nodded her head. 

“I’m very concerned with it; I know you are a very bright student, and it seemed your mark in class before I arrived as the new professor was a lot higher than it is now.” She continued, her voice draped with sympathy. I’m sure she knew why I had such difficulty succeeding recently. I wasn’t exactly subtle. 

“I just can never concentrate around you.” I blurt out, my face growing hot. I didn’t even mean to say it, but I had no intentions to take it back. At least now I could have sound reason to stare without feeling too guilty or strange for being so attracted to my own teacher. 

Ms. Fox chuckled, her fingers taking my chin between her fingers and forcing me to look her in the eye. 

“Well, I don’t know exactly how I can fix that. But I do know a way you can fix your grade.” She began, her face getting dangerously close to me. I couldn’t help but glance down at her full lips, my teeth sinking into my own as I tried not to close the little distance. 

“And how exactly can I? I’ll do anything, Madame.” I muttered, my breath latching momentarily. Ms. Fox leaned back completely and let go of me, sliding off the desk and making her way to the door to lock it shut. She pressed her back against the wooden frame, looking at me intensely. 

“Go on and close the blinds.” She demanded, and I obliged, sliding out of my desk to do as told. We met in the middle, my back pressed against her desk as she leaned over me, palms on either side of me to box me in. I very well knew what was about to happen. 

“You’re such a beautiful girl.” Ms. Fox mutters as she uses one hand to unbutton my blouse, my chest heaving up and down in excitement. My cunt was positively throbbing in suspense. Her palms run over my bare chest, clicking her tongue as my nipples hardened under her touch. Today was a good day to skip a bra. 

“Merci, madame.” I breathe out, a grin spreading across my face. Ms. Fox leaned her head down, her mouth latching onto the hardened nipple and sucking on it. I whimpered, my hand pressing against the back of her head. My back arched into her mouth, practically begging for more. 

Megan repeated the action with my other nipple, her wet tongue rolling all over my bare skin and I couldn’t help but let out another small moan. Her hand slipped under my skirt, feeling at my soaked panties. I felt goosebumps rise on my thighs as my breath hitched, hips jerking up into her touch. 

“You’re so wet, princess.” She cooed, lifting her mouth off my body to look me in the eye. She continued to tease at me through my panties, a smirk growing on her face. 

“I want you to cum for me. And I want to watch.” She commands, our bodies losing any and all contact. I groan at the loss, but am eager to do as she tells me to, my legs spreading. I scooted back further on the desk, to get more balance, my skirt hiking up in the process as I hooked my fingers in the waistband of my panties. 

The fabric slid down my legs with ease and I tossed them to the ground carelessly, more focused on getting myself off in front of the hottest woman I’d ever met. I spread my legs as far as I possibly could to put myself all on display for Ms. Fox, my knees bent and my pussy dripping. 

Immediately, my fingers found my clit, a sigh of relief escaping my mouth as I began to rub at it. Shivers trickled up my spine continuously, a ruthless wave of pleasure hitting me with every circle my fingers managed to make on my clit. I threw my head back as little moans escaped me, my hips grinding against my hand steadily. 

“Oh, Madame, this feels so good.” I whine out, my digits circling my tight little cunt and I slid a couple in, feeling myself stretch out. 

“You like it, don’t you, you little whore? Fucking yourself for your teacher.” She breathed, her eyes trained to my cunt. I nodded eagerly, my fingers pumping in and out of myself like it was the last thing I would do. I took no hesitation to fuck myself like my fingers were a cock, having no mercy on myself. 

They rammed in and out, curling up to hit that sweet spot that made me see stars. My moans grew progressively louder and my movements became sloppy. I rocked against myself gracelessly, no rhythm at all. I just needed that sweet, sweet release. 

“Stop.” Ms. Fox suddenly says, and it takes everything to force myself to. She lets herself between my legs, her hand pressed up against my dripping cunt. She rubs it, teasing me and I whine in frustration as she brings her fingers to her lips. They glisten with my juices as she slips them into her mouth, tasting me. I feel shivers running down my spine at the sight. 

“Can you imagine my mouth?” Ms. Fox asks, her voice oozing with sex. “Imagine it on that weeping little pussy of yours, darling?” She purrs, getting down onto her knees so her face was right between my legs. So close she could touch. 

“I bet you taste like pure heaven.” She greedily mutters, looking up at me with those piercing eyes of hers. Her grip on my thighs is iron-clad, keeping them outstretched. I can feel my juices on my thighs, know they’re all over her desk; but I don’t care. I don’t care how desperate I look and how wet I am for her. 

Ms. Fox begins to pepper kisses at my hip bones, making her way to the promise land. My hips jerk up with each kiss, begging for it. I’m so sensitive to her touch and I can’t help a single thing right now. The control is all in her hands. 

"Please, suck on my clit, Madame.” I beg, almost certain she’s teasing me to punish me for my horrid marks. Much to my surprise and pleasure, she obliges. Her tongue presses right up on my clit, rolling around carelessly. I moan in pleasure, leaning back on my elbows as I fight to keep my eyes open so I can watch. 

She sucks on my clit for a bit before her broad tongue flattens completely against my cunt, running a long, hard lick from one end to the other. It’s so smooth and I can see my slick juices all over her tongue, a groan falling from her mouth and vibrating onto my cunt. 

Ms. Fox then began to lap at my cunt like a little kitten, quick and soft and feathery. This tempo left me nearly in tears at the pleasure, my hands tangling in her hair and keeping her there like it was her sole purpose to lick my pussy. 

“Oh, fuck, just like that, Madame.” I cry encouragingly, my hips riding her tongue as she worked her magic on it. I arched into her movements, barely able to think straight. That bubbling feeling in my stomach appears, and I know I’m so very close but I don’t want her to stop even after I cum. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I cry out as I cum, my eyes rolling to the back of my head as every part of my body jerks and writhes at the pleasure that completely takes me over. Megan never stops, continuing to lap up every drop of my cum until I feel so good I’m about to pass out.

“If you’d spent half as much time studying as you did being a dirty little slut, you’d have the A back in no time.” Ms. Fox muttered as she pulled away from my pussy, pushing herself off her knees and making her way over to my desk to pick up my papers. I watched through heavy eyelids as I fought to get back some steady breathing. 

Her fingers pick up a pen, making a few marks across the French exam and bringing it back to me. B+. 

“Maybe I could stop by next week? Get in some extra credit for the upcoming final?” I joked, and Ms. Fox grinned, placing a sweet kiss on my lips. I could almost taste my cum if I tried. 

“How about you get it now? Watching you fuck yourself left me dripping.” 


A/N: Hope y’all enjoyed! Megan is an angel and she’s positively sexy, so I had so much fun writing this out. 

3 uploaded with permission 

Chapter 1(part 1):New Places, New Faces

 Amelie’s POV 

 I got woken up around 6:30 am, by the blonde from yesterday.“Good Morning! I brought you your  schedule, and some clothes you can borrow!"She says happily. I nod groggily. She helpsz me out of bed and shoves me the clothes."I can only hope we’re the same bra size."She smiles. I walk into the small bathroom in the medbay. I shut the door and lock it. I dress in the clothes she gave me. She gave me a short high waist black skirt, a tight purple t-shirt, a clean pair of deep blue, underwear, a matching bra to top it off, and a pair of black flats. All surprisingly fit comfortably. My hair is down, so I’ll have to ask her for a hair tie. Overall I look pretty good, even if I look like a blueberry.  I walk out to see her talking with a guy. He has dark chocolate skin, and curly hair. He wears a black hoodie, black jeans, and black converse."May I have a hair tie?"I requested."Of course!"She chuckled. She pulled one off her wrist and handed it to me."Thanks…uhm"I mumbled the last part not knowing what her name is."Oh my, I never told you my name! I’m Angela!"Angela quipped out. I nod in acknowledgement to her statement. I look over at the guy that was in the room."Oh yeah, that’s Gabri-"She was cut off by the guy."I can introduce my self. I’m Gabriel Reyes, and I’ll be one of your guides here."He let out what I believe to be a growl at the last part."Oh okay. I’m Amelie Lacoix."I introduce myself. I held out my hand for him to shake and he takes it giving it light shake. Then someone bursts through the door."Sorry I’m late, I had to fix my hair."The guy grins. He wore a grey shirt, blue jeans, and the most revolting lime Nike sneakers. His accent was French, and I wonder how one of my own be a thing like that."Uh…Bonjour, I’m Amelie…"I introduce myself, sticking my hand out for him to shake."Ahhh, Bonjour je'ampelle Gerard."he introduces himself in French and takes my hand lightly in his own, planting a kiss on it. I make a face of disgust and pull my hand away rather quickly."Vas te faire encule , la con dégoûtant."I spit out venom at him. That was the 1st most disgusting thing that’s ever happened to me, what a creep."Oh, mon cher. Vous me aimez assez tôt."He chided, those words sent the unpleasant kind of shivers down my spine. The tension is so thick you can cut it with a knife."Oooooookay then. I have to head out, you two play nice. I don’t want to hear about Amelie being harassed during a fight."Angela chirps uncomfortably and struts out. 


The two boys and I are walking silently to homeroom, I feel eyes on me everywhere I go. Gabriel leads me up to the teacher, who is the monkey from before."Oh, Mr. Reyes. How can I help you?"The monkey asks."Hey Mr. Winston. The new chica, is here and we need to know where she sits."Gabriel explains."She sits next Jamison."Mr. Winston replies."Aw, guess we won’t be sitting together mon amour."Gerard winks. I just roll my eyes."Luckily you’ll be sitting at my table."Gabriel added. I nod and follow Gabriel to a table in the back. Two boys are sitting there already. One lanky looking one with spiky blonde hair and punky type outfit on, and across from him is fluffy boy with white hair in an undercut that’s pulled back in a ponytail in a sweater with a pig on it. Gabriel sits down next to fluffy, and I sit down next to spiky."Good'ay mate! I’m Jamison Fawkes, but you can just call me Jamie. The big guy right there is my boyfriend Mako Rutledge!"Spiky or Jamie boasts in an introduction."I’m Amelie."I mutter."Pleased to meet ya! So Amelie, who ya gonna sit with at lunch? Gabi, Mako, and I have this great place outside we hang out at during lunch, you should sit with us, cause you seem cool! So who’s your host? Is it Gabi? Has he shown you your dorm? Have you gotten a dormie-"Jamison’s rambling ended when Gabriel told him to shut up."I think I’ll take you up on that offer of sitting with you at lunch."I mused, this Jamison is pretty entertaining."Or. You can sit with me!"A voice butted in next to me. I internally groan, I see everyone at our table’s moods go down."What do you Retard?"I snarled."The names Gerard, mon amour~! And what I want is you! Why hang out with the imbeciles when you can hang out with moi?"He was determined set me off."I think she got your name right the first time."Mako butted in quietly."What did you say fatty?"Gerard teases. I furrow my brows. This man has a complete lack of human respect. I looked at Mako who was looking down at his thumbs. Jamie looked like he was about to explode. Before Jamie could say something, I took this opportunity."If I have lunch with you, will you leave them alone?"I even cringed at my offer, but I can’t stand bullies. Gerard had slimy little smirk that made me want to punch him so hard in the dick."Oui I’ll leave them alone. See you later,mon amour!” He sang as he walked away.“You didn’t just…"Gabriel looked at me wide eyed."I can’t stand people who act like that, but if he’s bullying people I’ll stop it at any cost."I stated."Sheila, your putting yourself through hell for Mako…CONSIDER US BEST FRIENDS!"Jamie yelled hugging me. I let out a small giggle. 


I’ve done my first 4 periods and now it’s lunch. I’m following Retard to the lunchroom. I get in line and get my food. I get a salad with bleu cheese dressing, apple slices, and chocolate milk. When I get to the cashier, I pull out my schedule to be scanned, but Retard beats me to it and pays for it."I could’ve bought it myself."I huff."I don’t get a merci?"He asks as I follow him to a table in the middle of the room. He sits down and unfortunately I sit next to him. I look around the table and see the rest of them are boys."Wow Gee, I didn’t know you liked blueberries that much!"One laughs. The others start to snicker."Hey now, she’s my girlfriend. So don’t be mean."He chuckled. My eyebrows crease, and my eye starts to twitch."G-Girlfriend?"I seethe. He places his dirty paw on my thigh and leans over and whispers in my ear."We wouldn’t want anything unfortunate to happen to your friends, right? Oh what a tragedy it would be if their new friend betrayed them."Gerard hisses. I nod, and start picking at my food. Glad I didn’t pay for it myself."Yeah, her skin is from a rare condition. It’s pretty boring."Gerard discussed. Him and his friends were chatting away while I was quiet and played with my food."Isn’t that right babe?"Gerard asks."Hm?"I hum in confusion. He sighed, and smack my arm quite hard, if I didn’t know better his dead body would have been on the table in 3 seconds."We asked you a question, dumbass. What’s your talent?"Gerard scoffed."I’m skilled in ballet, and combat…"I mumbled."So that means your flexible?"One of them catcalls."Why don’t you come over here and see?"I grin. He walks over and I stand up in front of him I grab my chocolate milk and pour it on his head.  He grabs my salad and dumps dressing and all on top of me, soon enough the entire tables in a food fight.

 Anyways, this leads other tables to join, I pick up a sandwich and throw it at the cheerleader who just threw a bowl of spaghetti at me when it hits someone who recognize to be the vice-principal. The room turns deathly silent as some turkey from the sandwich slides off her face."Who threw it."She asked. As someone who owns up to everything, I’ll have to own up to this one."Me."I admit in a solemn tone. She stomps over to me and grabs my arm and drags me out to the hallway."I want a story now. Tell me the truth and your punishment wont get worse."She ordered, I nod."I was sitting with Gerard and they asked me what my talents were, and I told them ballet and combat. One of them proceeded to catcall me and as out of anger I poured chocolate milk on his head and accidentally started a food fight."I described the whole scene."You are off the hook. Go to your dorm and clean up."She decides after a minute."Merci-beaucoup madame, but why?"I inquired."Boys will act like dogs, if they do not learn their lesson they will never learn at all."She concludes our chat. I head to my dorm, I was shown my dorm before school. My roommate is a brit named Lena. Angela had some clothing she bought online brought to my room, so I wouldn’t go naked for the time between now and when I go shopping.


 I’ve been hanging in my dorm with Lena, after going to my last to classes. She grabs her guitar and walks out saying she’s gonna go play in the courtyard and get some fresh air. I nod, and return to my book that I need to catch up on for English. 

 A/N:Sorry everything is so run on. I just had a blast of inspiration today and sat myself down and wrote for about an hour or two. I’ll try and post chapters often. My motto is "Don’t release a chapter until you’ve started the next, or else you’ll lose interest, ideas, and time and you’ll get hella lazy.” So I hope you all are liking the story! Cause I love writing this! Thanks for the love!




Chapter 1(part 2):

mae-jones  asked:

Sherlolly fluff pour vous: Mary raised her brows at the discarded music sheets all around Sherlock. "Having a spot of trouble composing?" Sherlock huffed. "No. Maybe. Yes, hmph." She smiled. "May I ask who it is for?" Sherlock cricked his neck. "No." She scrunched her nose with a smile. "Ah, I see." He narrowed his eyes. "No, you don't." Mary chuckled as he brushed past. "Maybe you should pretend you're a fiddler, that's more Molly's style, methinks." Sherlock just grumbled in the kitchen.

Aaah….Sherlock😍😍😍…et Mary!

Merci beaucoup, madame

J’ai tellement envie d’aller vivre à Strasbourg, ça devient problématique. Je focalise sur cette idée et j’arrive pas à m’en détacher, et je ne veux rien d’autre, ou peut-être Metz, à la limite. Mais je veux Strasbourg, alors Madame du recrutement merci de m’appeler vite pour me donner une réponse !

mercuryblake  asked:

💔 >DD

[ @mercuryblake ]

41. My muse shows up on your muse’s doorstep after several months of being missing, with no memory of the past few years.

Erik could not say what brought him to this doorstep. Perhaps it was some kind of instinct, luring him as if a heavenly melody deep down in the masked man’s head, too beautiful and pure to even be heard. Something… Something like…. he could not say. He did not know. The opera ghost had been wandering from shadow to shadow for it seemed a thousand days and a thousand nights, yet in reality it had only been a few Months. What happened? He could not tell. There was a gap in Erik’s mind, empty as the void. 

What if… what if he can fill that gap here?.. No. He can not have much hope. 

Erik raised his hand to knock on the door, but lowered it, delaying. It took a while for him to finally force his muscles to move again, this time succeeding to complete that simplest of tasks. Now all he could do was wait, for salvation or for doom. 

Tokyo Ghoul Parents

The parents in Tokyo Ghoul tend to follow a pattern, as I realised in a conversation with itsover8999plus1. Generally, in Tokyo Ghoul, mothers (and mother figures) are depicted as either unloving or dead, whereas fathers (and father figures) are usually present (at least for enough time for their children to remember them) and loving. Of course there are exceptions (eg. the Fueguchi family) but after a few examples you should get the idea. Let’s start with mothers and mother figures.


Kaneki’s Mother
Once thought to be a mother who was so kind and giving she died of overwork, she is revealed to have been abusive toward Kaneki, causing him to repress his memories in order to come to terms with the mixed feelings he had for her. After her death, Kaneki was forced to live with his aunt and through this she indirectly gave him away to another unloving home.

Hikari Kirishima
Died shortly after her two children, Touka and Ayato, were born.

Saiko’s Mother
Saiko’s mother ran off with her children from her husband to her lover, and as they struggled financially after opening a bar, she sent her children to the CCG Academy due to the cheap tuition.  After taking the Quinx Aptitude test and being determined the best candidate, Saiko was forced to become a Quinx against her will by her mother in return for financial compensation. In short, her mother cheated on her husband, forced Saiko to have life-changing surgery she didn’t want and took the money offered in return; very selfish.

Tsukiyama’s Mother
Died when Tsukiyama was very young.


Kaneki’s Aunt
Not only did she hate her younger sister, but she also demanded her money. This eventually caused Kaneki’s mother to die from overwork and Kaneki was sent to live with her. She was kind to him and even praised him at first. As time went on, though, she began to hate him, compared him to her son, gave him less food before finally leaving him out of meals entirely and once she threw out all of his books (which Hide managed to get back for Kaneki  bless that boy). Kaneki found, upon living with his aunt, that his cousin and her lived in a comfortable two-story home and had even bought new appliances with the money Kaneki’s mother gave to them. It’s no wonder that after graduating from high school Kaneki moved out of her house and into his own apartment.

Rize Kamishiro
Kaneki and Rize are parallels of the mother and son in The Black Goat’s Egg, written by Takatsuki Sen. In the book, the mother is a serial killer, and at first the son is “disgusted by his mother’s depravity” but then “begins to realise that the same cruel impulses are budding in himself”. Rize tried to kill and eat Kaneki, before the steel beams fell on her and Kaneki received a life-saving organ transplant from her that turned him into a half ghoul and started his downfall.

Although she is in no way maternal, in chapter 56 she screams out to Kaneki, saying “I will make you my child”, yet at that very moment she’s trying to kill him.

Big Madam
Big Madam abducted Rei Suzuya before changing his name “Juuzou”. Under Big Madam’s ownership he became a scrapper and entertainer for the audience at the Ghoul Restaurant. Big Madam would torture Suzuya and dress him up as a girl, even going so far as to castrate him. Eventually, the two came face to face and Big Madam begged for mercy after Juuzou wounded her. Upon Juuzou claiming that he had to kill her, that it was his “job”, Big Madam began to say that she never loved him before squad members intervened and killed the ghoul.


Kaneki’s Father
Died before Kaneki could even remember him, but left him many books to read, which kept him going through tough times.

Mirumo Tsukiyama
Due to his wife’s death, Mirumo shows as much love and care for his son as he can and is very proud of Shuu’s achievements. When Shuu was unwell he was deeply worried and actively searched for an “ingredient” that would help his son’s health return. In recent chapters, Mirumo was captured by the CCG. However, upon hearing that his son was in danger, he busted out of custody and went to save him.

Arata Kirishima
Arata loved humans and hoped to live a peaceful life among them, even going so far as to prepare and eat human food (with his children) despite the disgusting taste and digestion difficulties it gives ghouls. Instead of killing humans, he ate corpses and even other ghouls. Eventually, he was killed and his kagune (which due to cannibalism could evolve into a kakuja) was used by the CCG as exoskeleton armour.

Urie’s Father
Died fighting the One-Eyed Owl so that members of his squad could safely retreat.

Kureo Mado
Although he hated ghouls and was enthusiastic about killing them for their kagune, it is revealed this is because of his wife’s devastating death at the hands of the One-Eyed Owl. His daughter Akira and him developed a strong bond, and they cared for each other deeply.


Arima Kishou
Haise sees Arima as a father figure. Arima may be responsible for Kaneki’s loss of memory and identity change (along with poor eyesight), but he chose not to kill Kaneki when the opportunity arose and mentored Haise. Haise and Arima had a good relationship, as can be seen throughout Tokyo Ghoul:re (eg. Haise gives Arima a tiepin for Christmas, Haise calling Arima his dad, Arima giving Haise tips on fighting).

Haise Sasaki
When he mentored the Quinx Squad, he was seen as a father figure by the younger squad members. Haise prepared meals for the squad and trained them to become great fighters. Saiko often affectionately referred to Haise as “Maman”, which is the French word for “Mama”. Before his death, Shirazu wanted to see Sasaki, as his biological father had committed suicide, he wanted Sasaki to be there at least. This never happened, though, due to his transformation.


It may be that the representation, though in rare situations is inconsistent (as I mentioned earlier), is due to personal issues Ishida has with their own parents. It seems that mothers and their relationships with their children are generally bad while the opposite can be said for fathers. 

I apologise for any errors, and thank you for reading.

madamemalaussene  asked:


Je sais un jour on était à Nice et une cougar elle m'a dit “salut tu sens bon tu m'payes un verre” alors bon.

Mais merciiiiiiii merci merci madame M ♡♡♡♡

Bon, j’ai vu Wonder Woman.
Mais… heu…
Je l’ai pas trouvé si extraordinaire que ça.
Alors attention: Oui ,c’est GENIAL d’avoir enfin une super héroïne. C’est SUPER que le blockbuster de l’été ait été dirigé par une réalisatrice (Merci Madame Jenkins)
Mais à part ça?
Ben c’était un film de super héros classique. J’y ai trouvé tous les clichés. Malgrè toutes les reviews qui clamait qu’il était hyper féministe, je n’ai pas trouvé ça extraordinaire. Il est bien fait, les personnages sont intéressants, mais à part ça. Ben j’ai pas trop accroché.
Bon, OK, en grande fanne de mythologie, j’étais en train de criser sur l’introduction du début sur les dieux Grecs et concernant l’origine de Diana… Bon là spoiler, mais sérieux, les mecs, c’est la BASE de Wonder Woman et vous retirez ça.
Bref, pas mal. Peut mieux faire côté féministe je pense.

Quelque part loin, très loin d'ici #2

Trois collègues hommes discutent quelque part, loin, très loin d'ici.

P : Hé, regarde, c'est Jean-Mi! Salut Jean-Mi! Alors, ce voyage d'affaires?

JM : Je veux pas en parler…

P :  À ce point là?

JM :  Ça s'est passé exactement comme on pouvait l'imaginer : j'ai passé deux jours à expliquer que je n'étais l'assistant de personne, que je n'étais pas le secrétaire ni le préposé aux cafés… et à faire des cafés pour tout le monde. J'étais le seul homme de moins de 30 ans parmis une horde de femmes Blanches hétérosexuelles de plus de 40 ans… Un cauchemar! J'ai mon amour-propre dans les chaussettes…

R : Hé dis-moi, la cliente, elle t'a pas trop…?

JM : La cliente? Le cadet de mes soucis! Le soir de la signature, la boss a exigé que je sois présent. Je comprenais pas pourquoi, normalement, au moment de la signature, il n'y a que les avocates de l'entreprise qui sont supposées être présentes… Mais là, devant tout le monde, K. a insisté pour que je sois là, juste elle, moi, son assistant et la conseillère juridique. En arrivant sur le lieu de la signature, K. a exigé que je j'enlève un bouton de ma chemise. C'est la seule fois du rendez-vous qu'on s'est adressé à moi. Je ne servais à rien d'autre qu'à la déco. Je ne m'étais jamais senti aussi humilié. J'ai fait 6 ans d'études pour qu'un jour, dans un bureau rempli de femmes riches, on décide que je fais joli…

R : Oh, mon chou, comme je te comprends…

JM : Le pire, c'est que pour le reste du voyage, les autres collègues me traitaient comme si j'avais reçu un traitement de faveur. J'ai eu le droit de me faire accuser d'avoir grimpé les échelons grâce à mes couilles… Alors que je dois toujours en faire plus qu'elles pour montrer que je suis au moins aussi compétent, elles me prêtent d'injustes facilités… Donc en plus d'être humilié, j'étais tout seul…

P : Et si tu avais refusé d'être présent, on t'aurait traité d'effronté, on t'aurait demandé pour qui tu prends pour te permettre de refuser ce genre de privilèges…

JM : Exactement… Franchement, les gars, parfois, je me dis que les mecs qui bossent en vitrine à la frontière belge, ils ont vraiment tout compris… J'veux dire, eux aussi doivent se faire humilier et avoir à faire à des connasses de misandres, mais au moins, quand la connasse a payé et qu'elle est partie, les gigolos sont pas obligés de débrieffer autour d'un déjeuner, ou de prendre l'avion ensemble, ou de se retrouver à la machine à café, ou d'entendre leurs blagues sexistes en réunion, ni de les accompagner au Zbouby Palace… Oui, parce que, évidemment, après la signature, il a fallu aller fêter ça dans la plus grande boîte de streap-tease de la capitale… normal, quoi…

P : Non, t'es sérieux?

JM : Oui, tout le staff et celui de la cliente.

R : Et personne n'a rien trouvé à y redire?

JM : Personne n'a osé en tout cas… Tu sais bien que c'est dans cette ambiance de ladies club et dans le champagne et le stupre que se font généralement les plus grands accords, que se mettent en place les bons partenariats… Refuser d'y aller, c'était refuser une opportunité d’être du prochain coup… Tout le monde le sait, donc personne ne proteste. Et surtout pas moi.

P : Et les femmes mariées?

JM : Comme si elles en avaient quelque chose à foutre…

R : Toutes des enculantes!

P : J'en ai marre d'être une minorité partout où je vais.

JM : J'en ai marre de cette bande de connasses.

R : En parlant du loup… Mieux vaut changer de sujet

K arrive

K :  Bonjour messieurs! Quelle douce vision que de vous voir tous les trois, aussi pimpants, dès le matin… On a vraiment une équipe charmante!

- Merci Madame K.

K : Oh, voyons Jean-Mi! Pas de “Madame” avec moi, pas après ce contrat! La cliente est FOLLE de vous!

JM : Mais je n'ai rien fait…

K : Ne soyez pas aussi modeste, mon p'tit Jean-Mi! Vous avez été brillant! D'ailleurs, à l'avenir, il n'est pas impossible que je vous laisse prendre un peu plus d'initiatives…

JM : Vraiment? Parce que justement…

K : Oui, on en parlera plus tard si vous voulez bien, pour l'instant j'ai rendez-vous avec les cheffes de services. Donc deux cafés noirs et un au lait, dans mon bureau. Merci mon p'tit Jean-Mi. Et… Patrick, cette chemise est… particulièrement seyante… Vous devriez prendre exemple Roger… Il ne suffit pas d'avoir des atouts, encore faut-il savoir les mettre en valeur…

Elle s'éloigne, fière d'elle, sous le regard consterné de Jean-Mi, Patrick et Roger, et rejoint ses collègues dans son bureau.

D : Dis-donc, j'espère que tu vas nous envoyer le petit asiatique pour le café… Il sert du jus de chaussette, mais… il est tellement croquant que je boirai de la pisse de chamelle macérée s'il me la servait..!

K : Non, l'asiatique est en procès contre nous pour harcèlement, tu te souviens?

D : Ha oui, c'est vrai, ça.

K : C'est le chargé de prod qui va nous l'amener.

J : Vraiment? Il accepte une tâche aussi subalterne?

K : Bien sûr, pourquoi il n'accepterait pas?

J : Oh, de nos jours, avec les masculinistes, tous ces mecs qui ne veulent plus être des mecs, qui nous font un scandale quand on leur fait un compliment… On sait jamais…

D : Tiens, en parlant de ça… Je sais plus quoi faire avec le standardiste…

K : T'as pas encore compris qu'il se moquait de toi?

D : Peu importe, le fait est qu’ il me rend dingue…

J : Raconte, j'ai pas suivi le dossier

D : Alors déjà, il a fallu un mois pour qu'il accepte ma première invitation à dîner… Sans exagérer! Il a fallu que je le lui demande tous les jours pendant un mois pour qu'il finisse par accepter! Et du bout des lèvres, encore!

K : Donc bon… tu sens déjà le mec qui dit non juste pour faire monter les enchères…

D : On dîne, tout se passe très bien, j'ai choisi un des meilleurs restos de la ville, je lui ai tout payé, grand cru, champagne, digestif à un mois de loyer… Et le mec, en sortant du resto, me dit qu'il habite tout près et me plante là. Sans un baiser, à peine un merci…

K : C'est pour te faire croire qu'il a l'habitude qu'on le traite comme ça…

D : Le lendemain, grande princesse, je lui offre un petit bouquet de fleurs, que je laisse au standard. Toujours aucun merci. Le jour d'après, je finis par lui demander s'il a aimé mes fleurs… Il me répond qu'il n'est “pas très fleur”.

J : Laisse-moi deviner : il est plutôt grosse montre?

D : C'est ce que je me suis dit…

J : T'as pas fait ça quand même?

D : Et pourquoi pas? Je le trouve beau, il jeune, il est frais, il sent bon, j'ai envie de le niquer… Si ça doit me coûter une Rolex, ça me coûtera une Rolex, et puis voilà!

J : Donc, la Rolex, ça a marché?

D : Même pas! Tu n'imagineras même pas ce que ce petit con s'est permis de me dire : il a refusé la Rolex parce qu'il trouvait que ça le mettait dans une situation délicate et que -attention, accrochez-vous- il ne l'assumait pas par rapport à ses collègues ! Non mais pour qui il se prend? Il devrait être flatté qu'une meuf de ma trempe daigne s'intéresser à lui et lui offrir une occasion de sortir de son caniveau… Moi?! Moi je le gêne? Ce petit crétin, c'est tout juste s'il est bon à cirer mes escarpins… En plus, je sais qu'il a pas de copine, je l'ai entendu parler l'autre fois…

J : Il est peut-être juste pas intéressé…

D : Meuf, je suis chef de service, je gagne en un mois ce qu'il gagne en deux ans, j'ai deux jambes deux pieds et je suis célibataire sans enfant… Qu'est ce qu'il pourrait vouloir de plus?

K : C'est vrai, je comprends pas son problème… un allumeur, j'te dis…

J : Non, mais c'est comme on disait l'autre jour : les meufs gentilles, ça les intéresse pas. Faut les traiter comme de la merde pour qu'ils soient intéressés… C'est de la biologie, hein, ils ont juste besoin d'être dominés…

D : Je sais que t'as raison, mais j'peux pas m'forcer, j'suis une fille bien… Moi, je marque ma supériorité dans la subtilité et la diplomatie…!

K : Dans le claquage de blé et l'intimidation?

D : Comme ma maman m'a appris.

* high-five*

J : Donc tu vas laisser tomber?

D : Hors de question… Si ce qu'il veut c'est préserver sa réputation de Saint-N'y-touche, je me ferai plus discrète, mais quand on veut quelque chose, on le prend! Je suis une femme, moi, pas un adolescent! Une femme, une vraie, ça prend! Et puis il n'y a que face à ce type d'attitude hyper-féminine qu'ils se sentent hommes, désirés et protégés…!

K : Prouve-lui que tu as le jet de pisse le plus puissant et il tombera le slip en moins de temps qu'il n'en faut pour dire “amour propre”.

D : Je dois filer, vous voulez pas qu'on finisse cette conversation ce soir au bar du coin?

J : Impossible pour moi… figurez-vous que ce soir je garde les mioches, mon mec sort avec ses copains…

K : Et ça te dérange pas?

J : Il leur faut bien un soir de temps en temps pour parler de trucs chiants, parler cuisine et mousse à raser, faire des ragots et se plaindre de leur femme …

D : Et tu vas être seule avec les mômes? Sans ton père, ni un baby-sitter?

J : Hé ouais…

D : Woaw… c'est incroyable… comme je t'admire…

K : Grave…T'es vraiment une super Maman!

Jamie/Claire fic (yes, really. J/C)

I’m a woman of my word. My kitty is on meds. I don’t know all the results from the tests yet, but this is a start. So, here is the first fic. Only my second Jamie/Claire one. 

The new Sam/Cait one should be up tomorrow.

Oh, and a little weigh in on Diana’s desire to have no fanfiction. I take Joss Whedon’s stance. And, she sold her rights to Jamie and Claire to the highest bidder. So some studio could have come along and made Claire a freakin’ high school cheerleader and Jamie the quarterback.  I’ll take fanfic over what Hollywood could have done to our beloved couple.

Anywhooooo. Enjoy. 

Merci, Madam Elise

We had come along way in the last few months since Jamie’s capture, torture and subsequent escape. But even with this, I was a bit surprised. In the midst of all the chaos and lies, we somehow found moments to still be ourselves. Although, I admit, I was shocked when he brought it out from the desk. My eyes went wide, I’m sure, and he merely smiled, almost embarrassed.

“Do you think he’ll be scairt? The bairn, I mean? I dinna want him to be.” his eyes drew tight and his forehead creased with thought.

“What? What do you mean?” I laughed a little.

“Well, he wilna recognize it. It’s not me.”

I covered my mouth, doing my best to stifle my laughter, “What?”

“Well, he’s used to seein,” he gestured toward his naked lower half.

I wiped the tears of laughter from my eyes and touched his hand assuredly, “Jamie, do you think our child sees your penis when we make love?”

He looked quizzically at me, “I know he canna see…but he kens, does he not?”

“No, Jamie. He can’t see you or your,” I waved in the general direction of the semi-hard penis in front of me.

Jamie sat back on his heels and made an indiscernible Scottish sound as he looked away, “Hmm. Well, I suppose that makes sense. But I thought,” he laughed a little to himself before looking at me once more, “I thought maybe you would know, but that was the reason you canna remember anything from when you’re a bairn. Cuz it would frighten you so. This thing commin’ at you all the time.”

I couldn’t hold back my laughter and doubled over onto my side. My hands fell to my belly as I tried to steady my shaking body. Jamie followed me in laughter but a red hue sprung up around his ears in embarrassment.

I reached overtop his naked form to the object behind him, then settled back to lay face to face again.  I gripped it in my hand and looked at Jamie. He was looking back at me, a blush still apparent on his face. His elbow rested on the bed as he cradled his head in his hand.

“I thought, maybe, you’d like it. For when I’m no here, maybe.”

“Well, it’s a thought. But maybe I can like it when you are here. We can use it together.”

“What? No, Sassenach,” he looked affronted, “I canna use it with you.”

“Jamie, we’re married. We can do what we want. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t used one before. They make them in my time. They vibrate.”


I chuckled slightly to myself and held up the object. Jamie had told me many things that had gone on at Madam Elise’s. The conversation. The women. The dildos. He had purchased one, while the Prince was otherwise occupied. Sadly, Murtagh had seen him, raised an eyebrow then shook his head, saying something along the lines of a real man kens how to pleasure his woman on his own.

But at the time, Jamie and I hadn’t been making love. We had been making attempts, but his mind would always steal him away from me. Black Jack would continue to rape his mind and pull us apart with each unforgiving memory.

But that was then. We had reconciled. Confronted the demons that lay within us. Within him. And Jamie had come back to me. To us.

And with that, and only a few short weeks later, he had presented me with a dildo on one of his more…amorous…nights.

Jamie took the dildo from my head, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Yes, vibrate.  It moves, very quickly. Very. Remember I told you about electricity?” He nodded. “Well, it’s sort of the same thing. You would plug it into the wall and it would…vibrate.”

Jamie looked at the dildo, then to me, “And you would…”

“Well,” now it was my turn to blush slightly, “I used it once or twice. It was rather enjoyable. But nothing compares to the real thing.”

“Ah,” he said handing it back to me, but I held his hand, stopping him. I made sure to hold his gaze as I brought his hand and the dildo to my mouth. I licked it slowly from base to tip, softly moaning as I did.

“Claire,” he said my name, but nothing followed but a fog that spread across his eyes, darkening them with lust as I continued to lick the dildo, circling the tip with my tongue, then dropping lower to lick his fingers that held onto the shaft.

I gripped his hand tighter and took the head into my mouth, still keeping eye contact, before pulling it free. I brought Jamie’s hand lower. The dildo circled my breasts, my saliva leaving a glistening trail in its wake before moving it lower. It crossed over my growing belly before dipping below into the crevice hiding beneath. We both lay on our sides and my legs stayed closed as it made the slightest contact with my pussy.

Jamie’s eyes left mine and travelled down my body watching my movements. I slowly turned onto my back, the dildo gaining greater access. Jamie’s hand never left it as he raised himself higher on the bed to get a better view of what his hand was involuntarily doing.

I slid the dildo between my lower lips, making it nice and slick before I turned to face Jamie again, and, my hand on his, pushed the dildo inside my body.

My back arched off the bed and I saw Jamie lick his lips unconsciously as a bead of sweat trickled off his brow. My hand fell to my side as Jamie began to move the dildo inside my body on his own. He used my body to guide him in his movements. The deeper he went, the louder I moaned.

“Touch yourself, Jamie.”

His eyes never left the work he was doing but I saw him shake his head. “No.”

“Jamie,” I gripped his arm, the one holding him up in bed, “Jamie please. I want to see you touch yourself. I know you want to.”

He glanced down at his body, seeing his cock fully erect and weeping, “I canna do that in front of you, Claire.”

“Do it with me, Jamie. Please.”

He pulled his arm free and sat up further in bed, his right hand coming to rest on his cock, until it slowly began to move. He wouldn’t meet my gaze and both hands picked up their rhythm. I tried desperately to keep focused, but my attention kept getting drawn to what was being done to my own body.

I watched Jamie frantically tug at himself, his eyes closing briefly, first in pleasure, then suddenly pain seemed to cross his face. His left hand stilled its movements with the dildo inside my body until finally he pulled it free, dropped it on the bed and cradled his hand with his right.

Jamie sat quickly on the edge of the bed facing away from me, swearing quietly under his breath in Gaelic. I sat up and leaned against his naked body.

“I’m sorry, Sassenach.”

“Don’t be.”

I took Jamie’s hand from him and massaged his fingers. We leaned into each other quietly as I did. He kissed my temple.

“That feels better.”

I smiled, “Good.”

“Can I tell you something?” I nodded against his warm skin, “You looked beautiful, mo nighean donn. It was like it was me inside ‘ya, only it wasna. Like, an extension of me maybe. I could watch your face closely without thinkin of my own pleasure.”

I rested his hands on his legs, then slowly sank down onto the floor in front of him. He tried to stop me with loving words that I didn’t have to worry about it. I ignored him and took his semi-flaccid penis in my mouth. It grew to life again and I felt it throb in my mouth, its sticky, slightly-soured pre-cum easing its way down my throat. I felt a hand come to rest on my head with beautiful words of encouragement replacing the protests.

I released his cock from my mouth. It stood fully erect, its alertness drawn so tightly, nearly hitting his belly. I crawled up his body, with his help, and straddled him. My belly pushing him backward on the bed as his hands came to rest on my hips.

I slowly sank down, his cock giving more pleasure to my body than any dildo or vibrator ever could. I began to rotate my hips in circles, slowly. My eyes caught his and I watched a smile cross over his face, illuminating all of his features.

“I love to watch your body as you take me, Sassenach. Your beautiful, full breasts bouncing as you do.” He closed his eyes momentarily, pleasure pulling him in, “and your fat arse falling against my balls.”

My movements sped up, my thighs still wet from our earlier actions. I could hear my cries get louder, but I just couldn’t seem to fall over the edge. I could feel Jamie thicken inside me. His breathing increasing, matching my own as his grip tightened on my hips.

Suddenly I felt Jamie move a little, then settle back down. A moment later his fingers, along with something harder, touched my clit. My eyes opened wide, and I lowered my gaze. I pulled back slightly, not stopping my movements, but just enough to see below the result of our lovemaking. Jamie held the dildo to my clit. I looked up into his eyes.

“Vibrate you said?”

I nodded as I continued to move on top of him. Suddenly his hand began to move quickly, somewhat erratically against my clit. I cried out his name and felt his hips slam up to meet mine as both of us rode each other in pleasure. I panted above him, resting my arms behind me on his legs, giving him better access with the dildo.

Just as he moved the dildo so that I could feel it at my entrance as I lowered, almost like both he and the object were stretching me, I came, shouting his name. My fingers, white knuckled, gripping his legs.

“Ah, Claire,” Jamie dropped the dildo suddenly and held me tightly to his body as he came, my inner walls milking his seed from his body.

I fell onto my side beside him, our panting the only sounds echoing in our ears. Jamie rolled onto his side, and took my breast in his hand, weighing it. I was barely conscious, but managed to laugh, “What are you doing?”

“They’re getting bigger. I think I’d like quench my thirst from your body, Sassenach. You milked me. Maybe I should do the same.”

I laughed, wholeheartedly. Yes. We were whole again.



Il y a 40 ans, 
Merci Madame !!

Merci pour moi , pour mes soeurs , pour mes filles .. merci ……

Le 26 novembre 1974, Simone Veil montait à la tribune de l'Assemblée Nationale Française pour défendre son projet de loi. Les députés français votent une résolution pour réaffirmer le droit à l'IVG, mercredi.

40 years ago !

Thank you Madam !!

Thank you for me, for my sisters, for my daughters .. thank you ……

November 26, 1974, Simone Veil went up to the rostrum of the French National Assembly to defend her law. Today , French MPs are voting a resolution to reaffirm the right to abortion .


Request: Can you do a fic where the reader and dean are sparring for practice for hunts and dean pins her and she gets really turned on by how strong he is which dean notices,then kinky smut? Love your blog, too, hun!

Author: Lexi

A/N: I feel like I being to brief with my one shots…? Was this okay..?

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warnings: smut

Song: Workout-J Cole

Right hook. Left hook. Uppercut, uppercut, uppercut. Cross, jab, cross hook.

Your heart beat rose in your chest as you moved with Dean, saying every move he needed to do as you held the pads. He stepped forward, you stepped back. He punched hard, but you knew he was going easy.

“A bit sexist today?” You yell over his grunts.

“What do,” he throws a right hook, “you mean?”

“I know you can punch a lot harder than that,” you answer.

Shrugging his shoulders Dean drops his hands and pulls off his gloves. You pull your top lip between your teeth and watch him drink some water.

“vous êtes forts,” you say and watch the muscles in his body contract and release. Sweat dripped down his abdomen and off of his head.

“What the hell, c’mon, you know I don’t speak Spanish,” he pants.

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