#Give me five minutes to get over my failure

[iceagegems]

Just spent 40 minutes looking for my drafts, I did find them, so new post is coming but I do feel dumb

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’ve been fired exactly once in my life. In my early twenties I was working at a pizza place. The pizzas were artisanal, thin crust and personal. They’re a huge chain now but when I first started the company was in its infancy. It was the wild west of management, and the core investors would frequently stop by to check on things. One of these people was this round little man with rage issues. A knock off Danny Devito with no charisma at all.

His favorite thing to do was to come in on a Friday or Saturday night. We'd be at our stations: taking orders, making pizza, manning the oven, finishing orders off, running the cash register. He'd shove his way onto the line and start rearranging people. "You, get off orders and work the cash register, you come over and make the pizzas!" With a line of customers snaking out the door he'd throw off all our grooves and rattle us.

Then, inevitably, a mistake would happen.

When it did he'd call the person over and say, "Hey c'mere. You're fired." Just like that. No inflection, just a flat "You're fired." It was absolutely a power kink, and because of his involvement the average turn over was three months. You were a veteran at five months.

One night there was only three of us manning the front. I took an order than went to the cash register to ring them out before I made the pizza. This horrible man watched that then called me into the back. I didn't know if I was about to be fired. But I wasn't. In fact, he had one other move besides firing people. He yelled.

In the back he absolutely lost his mind screaming at me for being on the cash register. I'm talking veins popping, spit flying, red with rage, this man just started bellowing nonsensically about where I should be and how I was just such a failure. It was truly like his brain had shut off, nothing he was saying even made sense. I stood there in the face of this tirade for a minute and then set a record for being the first person to ever cut him short by bursting into tears.

He instantly stopped yelling and it was like Jekyll and Hyde. He was remorseful and consoling, deeply embarrassed by my display of emotion. All my male coworkers just took the abuse but faced with my weeping he about faced and instantly backed off. I went outside to cry and when I came back in he pretended it had never happened.

That was the state of things. The investors knew they desperately needed to keep this man out of the stores, but they couldn't just give him the boot. They needed to move him aside and fill his position with someone. The store manager was this lovely woman who had hired me on the spot at my interview. The entire staff adored her. She was the best fit to get this roided out investor out of the stores for good.

Her replacement was this man called Anthony. He was instantly loathed by the entire staff. Condescending, critical, and lazy he started off his reign by letting go a core lead who "back talked." He spent a whole morning berating the opening crew because the closing crew (who had sold 100 more pizzas than we were even supposed to have on hand) had forgotten to windex the doors. He left the entire crew to close without him while he flirted with a girl who wasn't his pregnant girlfriend. He hired his roommate to replace the lead he fired and even that guy hated his guts.

Our antipathy toward him made him paranoid and resentful and one by one he started finding excuses to fire the whole staff, certain that if he could clean house he'd be able to do the job. My time came, and he sat me down with his boss, my former manager. She cried as he announced I wasn't personable enough and used too many pepperonis.

I looked at her, the woman who had trained me on how many pepperoni to use, but she said nothing. What could she say? He was the boss now and had determined I was going to be let go regardless. Too many in this case was seven. Seven pepperonis on a personal pizza. The correct number was five according to him, which is one pepperoni per slice, and one in the middle.

I sat there for a moment, taking it in. I smiled at my old manager, obviously miserable. I looked back at him and said, "You're a terrible manager, you're doing the worst imaginable job." I outlined some of the things he'd done so she could hear them, then I stood up and left. I made it to the back room before I started crying.

I found out later through a bus boy that he replaced the whole staff with college kids who had such limited availability that the store couldn't run, then quit three months later leaving the whole place in shambles. Most of the old staff returned, but I'd moved onto the sex shop already and was enjoying a job with significantly less risk of being fired on a whim.

However I do have to disclose on job applications if I've ever been fired. I always says yes and list the reason as, "Excessive use of pepperoni." It has never failed to get a laugh from my interviewer.

[sparklingchim]

game on 02 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.9k

genre: footballer!jungkook, fake dating, f2l

rating: 18+

warnings: lots of smoochies !! 🤭, their first kiss <3, umm mentions of jk's infamous threesome again 😔, koo talks abt taking girls in missionary what can i say he is a man

summary: jungkook and you practice acting for the cameras. kissing him feels more right than you anticipated.

a/n: yayy chapter 2 is here!!!! <3 writing this was truly saur much fun n i hope u have fun reading too !!! 😋

read chappie one here

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

"Just kiss me."

"Hold on a second."

"We really need to practise this."

"I know, just give me a minute."

You scoot away from Jungkook on the couch. You were sitting so close, almost about to kiss him actually, but his intense, doe-eyed gaze made you pause, needing a grounding breath.

You’ve never been this close to his face, and somehow, you can’t seem to cross the invisible line that keeps you from just pressing your mouth on his. Jungkook’s your friend, after all. You’ve known him since he was five and once saw him get his head stuck at school, so of course it’s weird.

You press your lips together in an attempt to focus, and lean in again, but once your eyes meet his, a smile urges on your mouth.

"Oh my god." Jungkook’s frustrated sigh cuts the air. "This can’t already be doomed to failure because of a simple kiss."

"It’s not! I just need to mentally prepare myself."

"I feel...offended? Kinda?" Jungkook weaves his fingers through his hair. "I’ve never had to convince someone to kiss me."

"It’s not you. I promise!" you say, reaching for his knee. "Under any other circumstance, if we weren’t friends, I’d love to kiss you. You’re hot and cute, but the situation we’re in makes me feel so stupid. It’s absurd."

Jungkook cringes when you call him cute and removes your hand off his knee.

Yesterday, when Jungkook showed up unannounced, it took him full ten minutes to convince you he wasn’t pulling a prank on you.

Who would believe their friend begging you to fake date them? It’s ridiculous. Only happens in the fictional world.

But then Jungkook showed you the pap picture that was circulating online. The comments and gossip were nasty and you knew he was caught up in a deep mess.

In the photo, Jungkook was surrounded by two girls, his arms draped casually around their waists as they stumbled out of the club, a half-full drink lazily held in his hand. His hair was a tousled mess, likely from the girls running their fingers through it, and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a small peek into his defined chest. It was bold, provocative — definitely not the ideal image of a responsible twenty-year-old football rookie.

Probably the worst pap pic you’ve seen of him so far. And the worst timing too.

"You were wasted," you commented, staring at the article he was showing you on his phone.

"And I had so much fun last night." His voice was tinged with frustration, like a child whose favourite toy had just been snatched away. "But then I woke up to this picture, and a flood of missed calls and texts." He rubbed his hands over his face, exhaling sharply. "They just had to ruin it for me."

Noticing your raised eyebrow, Jungkook quickly backtracked. "No, I know it’s my fault too. I shouldn’t have done this right before the World Cup, especially after what I promised. I just hate how everything turns into such a big deal, just because... well, just because I’m me."

The idea of fake dating Jungkook had seemed absurd, something out of a rom-com rather than real life. But the more he explained the pressure he was under, the more you understood why he needed this.

Jungkook was your best friend, and if kissing him in public could save his career, why not help him?

While you got ready for meeting his manager, stepping out of your comfy, rotting-at-home clothes, which consisted of little shorts and an oversized t-shirt (you think it’s actually Jungkook’s, but you’re not quite sure since it’s been in your closet for years now), and slipping into a casual, more presentable outfit, Jungkook busied himself fixing your laundry machine.

Jungkook’s manager knows you well – his entire team does. You are known as Jungkook’s close friend and had been spotted with him on multiple occasions.

Taesung greeted you warmly, though surprise flickered across his face when Jungkook introduced you as the solution to the fake dating plan.

You felt Taesung’s gaze assessing you, weighing your suitability for the role. Jungkook’s PR agent mirrored his scepticism, tilting her head in doubt. They exchanged uncertain glances, which made you nervous, but Jungkook was determined. Jungkook wasn’t Jungkook if he didn’t get what he wanted. With a few persuasive words and his usual charm, he quickly won Taesung over, who sighed and leaned back in his chair, conceding defeat.

"We need to establish the narrative from the start," Taesung said seriously. "The media will dig into your background, and they’ll want to know if there’s anyone else in the picture. So, to be clear, you’re officially single. No boyfriend, no complicated past relationships that could surface. We don’t need any messy stories."

You assured them that there was none. Multiple times. No angry exes, no secret relationships – your personal life was as drama-free as it could get.

Taesung slid a document across the desk.

"This ensures that whatever happens, no details of this arrangement-"

Jungkook’s hand shot out, halting the paper. "No," he said firmly. "She doesn’t need to sign anything."

"Jungkook, it’s just a formality," Jiwoo began, but Jungkook insisted.

"I trust ___. She’s not just anybody. She’s my best friend. If she says she won’t talk, she won’t talk. The NDA isn’t necessary."

"It’s okay," you assured him gently.

Jungkook shook his head. "No, this is ridiculous. You’re not signing a stupid contract."

After more arguing, his manager eventually relented.

Jiwoo outlined the plan in more detail with Taesung – public appearances, social media posts, carefully orchestrated moments that would sell the story to the public. You felt a bit intimidated by the pressure, but you’d get used to it. After all, this arrangement is only for a few months – just until his management can announce that you’d mutually decided to break up on good terms.

But you both need to practise before stepping in front of the cameras.

Which leads you to this moment, a day later, sitting on your couch trying to practice how to act like a couple. And it’s not going well at all.

"Okay, let’s start from the basics then," Jungkook suggests. He rises to his feet, offering you his hand. "Hold my hand."

You gingerly accept his hand, standing up as well.

"See, don’t we look cute?" Jungkook drags you to the mirror. "Or maybe – let’s intertwine our fingers. I think that would look better." He holds your interlaced hands up between the two of you, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. "So cute, right?"

A giggle bubbles in your throat. "You act like you’ve never had a girlfriend."

"Well, it has been a while," he admits, the slightest sulk on his lips. "I’m too busy for relationships." He swings your hands. "The only times I ever hold a girl’s hand is in missionary, above their head when-"

"Jungkook," you interrupt quickly before he can delve any deeper into the story. You give him a mock glare, but there’s no hiding the amusement dancing in your eyes. "Didn’t we both agree on only talking about your bed stories after I’ve had at least one bottle of soju – preferably two, so I can mentally brace myself?"

You love him, you really do, but you don’t want to hear about his bed stories, unless you’re the slightest bit tipsy at first.

"Oh, yeah." He shakes his head apologetically. "Forgot about that."

"Wait, maybe that’s what we should do!" you exclaim as an idea pops into your mind. Your hand slips out of his, and you take a step toward the kitchen. "I think there are a few bottles of soju in the fridge."

"We’re not getting drunk to build up the courage to kiss," he insists. "We shouldn’t need alcohol to pretend we’re into each other."

Jungkook pulls you closer to him, and you stumble slightly, but his hand instinctively moves to the small of your back, steadying you.

"Fine," you sigh dramatically, hand on his chest. "Was just an idea to make this easier for us." The fabric of his shirt is extremely soft and your fingers glide over it.

"I mean, it’s not like we’re complete strangers. And they know it too. We’ve been through enough to pull this off without breaking a sweat."

He’s is right. The public knows you’re one of Jungkook’s closest friends. It wouldn’t be totally unbelievable that you two might have fallen in love.

After all, you’ve always been comfortable with each other —hugging, cuddling during movie nights, play-fight over silly things just to annoy each other. You’ve shared quiet moments, like when you’d fall asleep on his shoulder after a long day or when he’d run his fingers through your hair absentmindedly while you talked. There were times when Jungkook was exhausted and crashed at your place, your fingers gently scratching his head as he slept peacefully. You’ve kissed each other’s cheeks in thanks without hesitation.

Jungkook’s touch isn’t foreign to you.

And still, the thought of acting like you’re in love when you’re not feels strange. Sure, you’ve always been physically close, but this was different. This time, every gesture would be for an audience, every touch would carry a different meaning. It wasn’t just casual anymore.

"I guess," you reply, fiddling with the hem of his oversized t-shirt, avoiding his gaze for a moment. "I think it’s just weird to be this close for show."

Jungkook watches you for a moment, his eyes softening as he considers your words. "Yeah," he murmurs. "But it’s not like we’re faking the friendship part. The rest...we’ll figure out." His fingers clasp your hip, the pads of his fingers gently digging into your flesh. "Don’t think about it too much," he says. "When we have our first public appearance as a couple, pretend like the cameras aren’t there, act nonchalant. Just... y’know. You and me."

You pout, an involuntarily frustrated grumble leaving your lips as you drop your forehead on his chest.

"I hope I’ll do well under all the attention."

You’ve dealt with your fair share of noisy people trying to pry into your relationship with Jungkook, but so far, it’s been somewhat manageable.

"Just you and me," Jungkook repeats, his tone softer and more assured this time. "Nothing can happen to you when I’m there."

You glance up at him, taking in the gentle lines of his face.

"Maybe you should’ve hired a girl that can deal well with attention," you voice your thoughts.

"No." Jungkook’s immediate response rolls off harshly on his tongue. "You were my first thought. I wouldn’t have done this with anyone else but you."

"I was your first choice?" Giddiness makes your face shine.

"Yeah. I don’t think I would’ve felt comfortable with anyone but you."

"Be honest, you just really wanna kiss me."

You stand on your tippy toes, a silly smile spreading across your face.

Jungkook cocks his head to the side, a teasing glint buried in his eyes.

"I think you do."

With a surge of confidence, you take a small step closer, your heart beating a little faster as you close the gap between you and Jungkook. Your lips meet in a gentle, fleeting touch. The contact only lasts for a moment before you pull back, your eyes searching his for a reaction.

"That was a smooch. Not a kiss."

You frown upon hearing him complain.

"What, you want to make out with me in public?"

Jungkook sniffs a laugh. "No, but maybe a little more than how fifth graders kiss."

"You’re a kissing expert now?" you quip back, narrowing your eyes at him.

Jungkook leans in slightly. "I just know what I like."

The challenge in his voice sparks something in you. "Then show me how you like it."

His gaze drops to your lips, and a flutter of excitement spreads in your tummy. It’s unexpected and thrilling and it catches you off guard.

Jungkook’s hand, which had been resting on your back, slowly glides up, his fingers curling around the side of your face, his thumb brushing delicately against your cheekbone.

Your breath hitches as he leans in. His lips meet yours again, but this time there’s more weight behind the contact – still soft, but deeper, more intentional. His lips move slowly and there’s a warmth to it, a tenderness that makes your heart race even as the kiss remains gentle. He tilts his head slightly, deepening the connection just enough to make you melt into him.

The teasing atmosphere lingers in the back of your mind, but for now, it’s pushed aside by the gentle pressure of his lips on yours.

Kissing Jungkook doesn’t feel weird – which makes it a little weird.

When you both finally pull back, it’s gradual. You can feel his breath, warm and steady, mingling with your own.

"Like that," he whispers, his voice barely audible, yet it sends a shiver down your spine. "You’re a good kisser."

You pull back completely. "Excuse me?" you say. "You were doubting my kissing abilities?"

"No, not at all!" Jungkook shakes his head, amusement crinkling his eyes as he gazes at your sulky face. "You’re just a very good kisser. Like, super gentle and smooth."

Heat crawls up your cheeks. You ignore the flush of warmth and keep your composure. "Have you been using the lip balm I got you? Your lips are soft."

"I know, right? Not chapped at all anymore."

He traces two fingers along his bottom lip and your eyes follow the motion, finding yourself inexplicably drawn to his lips.

"Are we done practising?"

"Do you think we looked natural?" Jungkook’s hand slips into yours once more. While he is focused on the mirror, adjusting the way your bodies fit together – tugging you closer, alternating between holding your hand and interlacing your fingers – your mind is still replaying the memory of the tender press of his lips. "For me, it felt pretty natural. Not awkward at all. What do you think?"

It’s the simplicity with which he says it that draws a short laugh out of you.

The sound grabs his attention. "What?"

"You’re just...extremely serious about this. I don’t think they’ll analyse the way we hold hands, Kook."

"But that’s their favourite thing to do," Jungkook replies. "The gossip mills love analysing every step you take, where your eyes wander, who you smile at." A note of bitterness threads through his words.

He’s been playing pro for just two years and has fallen victim to greedy people intruding on his life so many times already. Former friends who leaked private conversations, acquaintances who turned their brief interactions into tabloid fodder, even strangers who felt entitled to a piece of him just because he was in the public eye.

Jungkook searched for solace and silence at your place many times, trying to escape the madness. In the quiet of your dorm, breathing felt easier.

You never asked questions, never pried. In a world where everyone seemed out to get something from him, you just let him be, offering him the comfort of your presence without demanding anything in return.

"People were just criticising this dude – ah, who was it again?" Jungkook stares at the ceiling, raking through his thoughts. "I can’t remember his name, but this guy was getting called out for choosing the booth seat while making his girlfriend sit in the aisle seat."

"The aisle seat? Come on, it’s an unwritten rule that-" You fall silent once you catch Jungkook’s pointed expression. "I mean, yeah. It’s definitely wrong to make a big deal about it. Maybe she prefers sitting there," you shrug.

"But do you see what I mean?" he asks. "Whether you intend to or not, you’re always judging what others do. And that judgement only intensifies when it involves a celebrity."

"Ah, when did you become so famous Jeon Jungkook?" You sigh, looking down at your linked hands.

"I know, right? Two years ago, no one would’ve cared if I had a threesome." He shakes his head in disbelief. "And now I am being punished for it—kicked off the national team, and my best friend has to save me by fake dating me."

"I feel like this would make a good movie," you giggle.

“We have to practise hard, then," he says.

You pull your phone from your pocket. "What if we film ourselves kissing so we can monitor it better?" You set up your phone on a nearby shelf and position yourselves in front of the camera. "Don’t engaged couples do this? I feel like we’re practising for our wedding kiss."

"Oh, butterflies."

"Huh?" You stare at the way he holds his hand against his tummy.

"You just told me you want to marry me. That gave me butterflies."

You slap his arm. "Stop being silly, we have a whole nation to fool that we’re in love."

~

Hang outs with Jungkook often end with the two of you lounging on the couch, snacks scattered everywhere, and a movie playing on the TV.

"Next one?" Jungkook asks from his spot beside you, inching closer with his pleading doe eyes.

You try to push him away by the, but he doesn’t budge.

"I need to study. Like, for real." You had warned him before starting the movie, agreeing to watch only one, but he still tried his luck.

He holds up one finger. "Just one."

You push him off your body, and this time he allows it, his back slumping against the couch. The grumble of complaint in his throat gets muffled by his pursed lips.

"You’re smart. The material is probably set in your brain anyway. No need to revise anything."

You scoff at his bratty words.

"So you won’t ever need to ditch hangouts for football practice because you’re already so good at it?"

"Well, no." He drags the word out, brows furrowed as he considers your question, trying to come up with a reasonable answer. "But I know you don’t need to study as much as you do. You’re just naturally smart."

"I wish, but I ace my exams because I study as much as I do."

"Aish," Jungkook mutters, standing up from the couch and stretching his limbs. His toned tummy peeks out from under his lifted shirt.

"Karina will be home soon anyway," you say. "And I’m not ready to play pretend in front of her yet." The thought of confessing to your roommate that Jungkook is now your boyfriend makes you shudder.

It was one of the conditions that made you briefly reconsider if you could really pull this off or if Jungkook should find another girl. You didn’t just have to act in front of the cameras – everyone had to believe that you and Jungkook are a couple, including your friends and family. You dread the day you have to tell your parents.

You know they once secretly hoped Jungkook would become your boyfriend when you were older, but as he became famous and the public started scrutinising his every move, your parents grew wary of his wild, reckless side.

You follow Jungkook to the door.

"You think she’ll believe us?"

"I dunno," you shrug. "Not sure if she’ll buy it. She’ll probably be suspicious since I’ve never talked about you in that way when we gossip, but I think we’ve practised enough to at least make it look like we love each other."

Jungkook nods and hugs you briefly. "We’ll figure it out." He steps out of your apartment, typing on his phone. "My manager sent me details about our first public appearance." He scans the text, but quickly looks up at you again with an annoyed frown. "Ah, so many words. I’ll just forward you the messages." With a sweet smile and a quick wave, he starts to leave, but you tug at the back of his shirt.

You cup his face, pulling him down to you, and plant a kiss on his lips.

"You’re my boyfriend now. Act like it."

[daughter-of-sapph0]

capitalism is a failure of a system and need to be completely abolished

>store says they're hiring

>50 people apply

>30 don't hear back from them

>19 get told they "don't meet the qualifications"

>one single person gets hired

>store gives them way to much work for one person

>new employee says that they need to hire more people

>"what are you talking about? we have enough people working in your department"

>but no you actually don't. you have one single person working at a time. I only work mornings, every single morning. other guy only works afternoons, every single afternoon. what happens when one of us is sick?

>also, what if I'm busy with something else like stocking, and a customer needs my help? what then? you're asking me to work five people's jobs at once. so either pay me five times my salary or hire four other people

>"no. you're fired"

mfw

>go to that store later to buy something

>no one is working at the department I worked at

>end up waiting 40 minutes to buy something

>don't blame the cashier. he was pulled away to do something else. it's the bosses fault for not hiring more people

>as I leave there are "we're hiring" signs plastered all over the door

what a fucking load of massive bull shit

[ynbabe]

Cute situations w/ f1 drivers- ep2. part 2

Asking the drivers if they 'wanna nap?'

PT-1 w/Charles, Carlos, Lando, Oscar, George, Lewis, Lance & Fernando

Max

You had just gotten off the phone with your mother, so obviously tears were stinging your eyes and the urge to punch a wall was getting stronger by the minute. Unfortunately, you weren't the only one dealing with less-than-loving parents.

"But that's not fair, no one's perfect, I've won five out of eight races," He yelled into the phone to a louder voice responding from the other end. Max looked defeated, with red under his eyes and hair sticking up where he dragged his hands through it.

"No, I didn't fucking let them win, it's their job too," he stood right by the door, slamming it behind him, "Whatever, bye," he cut the call, standing still for a few seconds, glaring at his phone, knowing him debating between throwing it at a wall or stomping on it.

"Wanna nap?" You asked him, setting your phone on the coffee table and letting yourself fall face first on to the hotel bed. Max followed suit, one arm over your waist.

“Damn, can you imagine if we swapped places as kids?” You thought out loud as sleep neared making Max scoff.

He turned to you and in a dead serious tone replied, “Y/n/n, you’d be a serial killer and I’d probably be in jail, now let me sleep, you’re warm,” The man’s response was screech worthy, making you want to smack him but for once, he was right, you were very warm and cuddly and so was he, a fight could wait, sleep was now.

Logan

“LOGAN!” You screamed, knocking on his hotel room door, hoping the man would hurry to answer.

You couldn’t believe the man had launched an entire app without even giving you a hint! You were so proud of him and you couldn’t wait to celebrate. You waited to see his smiling face, knowing you were going to shower him with praises and way too many hugs but when he opened the door, his demeanour was nothing like you had expected.

“Dude didn’t you just launch an app? Why the no good sad face?” You asked as you walked in past him.

He sighed as he sat on his bed, working away at his laptop and a hundred pages spread out. You couldn’t help but frown.

“Logan, Logan,” you called out, ultimately pulling the boys head to face yours, “what the fuck mate, you should be happy right now, what’s wrong?” You asked, disturbed that your happy go lucky, it is what it is friend was so sullen.

“The cars fucked, I have no future, my team fucking hates me, my best and only friend literally never talks to me and I feel like a fucking failure,” he went of on you, slamming his laptop shut making you flinch.

You stared unimpressed at his little charade to keep you away, unfortunately you had grown up with the man and knew his tantrums and breakdowns, “First of all, your only friend? What am I chopped liver? Secondly, James Vowles can fuck off for all I care, you deserve so much better then that ratchet ass team, thirdly you just launch your own app, need I go on?” You presented embodying your inner George Russell as you picked Logan’s laptop and papers off his bed.

“But still-” his face was still down and he continued to doubt himself.

“Look,” you say next to him, holding his hand in yours, “it’s been a tough few years, not gonna lie, but you’re going to pull through cause you are one of the most talented people I know,” you squeezed his hand, “also you can’t give up because you promised you’d get rich and pay for everything.” You shrugged and pulled him to lay on the bed.

He huffed, smacking a pillow on your face, “so that’s why you’re friends with me? Not my dazzling personality? How could you? This is a betrayal, I’m betrayed,” he joked, finally getting back to his normal self, but you were still worried about him.

You turned to the man enveloping him in your arms, the man immediately returning the favour immediately. You let yourself fall into a comfortable sleep, telling yourself to do this more often.

Daniel

“Hey, are you busy?” Daniel had said softly as he entered your room immediately raising red flags in your mind, never once hand the man been so quiet. You quickly put away your stuff on the night stand patting the spot on the bed next to you to let him sit.

“Yeah, is everything okay? You look tired, Danny,” you asked to nothing but silence from the man. A few seconds passed and you could see how wet his eyes were.

“Dan-”

“I’m so tired y/n/n,” he spoke in a hoarse whisper, scaring you, what did he mean by that? “I’m just, I can’t, I’m doing everything I can and it isn’t enough, I- I,” he tried speaking but he couldn’t without choking.

You tired not to cry with him, the only man you’d always known to be laughing and happy even in the worst of circumstances, keeping everyone’s spirits up was sitting here in front of you, so hopeless.

You didn’t think twice before pulling him in a hug, cradling him as you both sank into a laying position. “You’re tired, mate, let’s take a nap, it’ll be okay Danny, I promise, it’s going to be fine,” you whispered into his hair making him nod.

You felt him drift off as the tears slowed down and you couldn’t help passing out in the warmth either knowing when you wake up you’d find a way to make the man himself again.

Yuki

“Can I please marry you?” You begged for what seemed the tenth time that day much to Yuki’s irritation.

“I am never cooking for you ever again,” he complained falling onto the sofa next to you, watching the sitcom tv rather than paying attention to you.

“Please, you know you loved the tiramisu I made,” you boasted, opening up a button on your shirt to allow you to breath. The amount of food you and Yuki had consumed for individuals of your sizes were seriously guiness worthy.

He whined knowing you had won that argument, “fine but I want the recipe as a wedding gift,” he joked making the both of you laugh.

“Dude I’m ready to go into a food coma for the next ten fucking years,” you confessed, making the man nod in agreement.

“I’ve eaten enough for the next damn week.”

“We should nap,” you spoke out loud, turning to the man next to you, “wanna nap?”

“Yup,” he immediately answered to which you both pounced on either ends of the sofa, shifting into comfortable positions, making sure neither was kicking the other, his legs on the coffee table pulled close to the sofa and yours curled up closed to you.

Pierre

“Fuck me,” you groaned as another one of your projects fell through. You threw your phone on the table in front of you, sighing as you did.

“Do mind if I do,” joked an irritating grating voice from behind you, from your bed, you had honestly forgotten your friend had been there after another pissy fight with his sweetheart teammate.

“Keep talking Gasly, I’ll call Ocon over make it a threesome,” you laughed as you joined him, pushing him to one side to make space.

The man looked honestly disgusted, “I can’t believe you’d stoop low enough to even joke about that, standards babe, standards,” he scoffed looking at you judgementally to which you rolled your eyes.

“Damn I guess we won’t be making love, sad, I was actually going to agree for once, I’ll just ask Estie then” you fake sighed, feigning disappointment, much to the other man’s horror.

“Shut up, Y/n,” he knocked your shoulder with his after he saw your grin, fighting a yawn as you pushed him back.

“Do you wanna nap?” You asked, equally tired and dejected about your failed project, he nodded and pulled the both of you into a more comfortable position, turning in to face you, burying his face in your neck and you let your hand play with his silky blonde locks, falling into a comfortable sleep.

Esteban

“BITCH, YOU WILL NOT BELIVE THE SHIT I’VE JUST SEEN-” you yelled as you ran into Esteban’s driver room, seeing him lying on the makeshift bed.

You immediately jumped in next to him, waking him up in a startle, “MERDE! Y/n?” He yelled in fear and then confusion, looking around as if a swat team had burst in, “what is wrong with you?” He screeched as he pulled his hands over his face in exhaustion, “you’re a worse gossip than Pierre,” he grunted lying back down.

You animatedly threw yourself down next to him, using his arm as a pillow. “I abhor that accusation, actually,” you grumbled but gave in nonetheless, “okay so look at this photo and tell me what you see,” you showed his your phone, a photo you’d gotten out of a greedy paparazzi’s hand as a media control agent in Mercedes.

The man next to you suddenly seemed much more awake, “Is that Nico fucking Rosberg?” He whisper- yelled into your ears, snatching the phone out your hands.

“Yup,” you grinned popping the p, “bought that shit for eleven thousand dollars,” he whistled, “that was taken at 4 am at Lewis’s hotel,” you whispered, turning your body to face his.

“Oh my god,” he laughed, “I thought these were rumours?” He asked gleefully.

“Nope, this isn’t even the first time I’ve had to do damage control,” you sighed, trying to get your phone back but it was pulled away by the taller man.

“You mean there’s gossip you haven’t told me? Your best friend, whose room you’re currently hiding in? Interrupting my nap time?”

“You, Estie, are such a drama queen,” you teased him, pulling your phone out of his hand. “And we can definitely nap, I spent all night trying to convince that asshole to drop the story,” you kept you phone in your pocket as Esteban made himself comfortable, both of you letting yourselves rest after the tiring day you had.

Zhou

“How are you not broke?” The man yelled in astonishment as he saw at the amount of bags in the Prada assistants hands, choosing to ignore his own in another’s, he was allowed to spend he technically was a millionaire, even without his family and sponsors.

You looked at him with raised brows as you opened the doors your apartment building, you and Zhou both owning the penthouses, yours above his.

You let the men drop the bags off on your floor, keeping Zhou waiting, making him annoyed to your amusement. When the men finally left you simply answered, “Samsung shares.”

Zhou groaned “Spoilt child,” and headed into the guest suite as you headed into your room, “look whose talking I have my own assistant at the mall,” you called out behind you. That had been funny, the man followed Zhou to every shop, holding the bags you both collected till you needed another.

You both walked out and showed each other the clothes and accessories you had bought, occasionally swapping one or two. As the day progressed into late evening you called for food, tired from the little fashion show you had.

“I need a nap,” you groaned, folding your feet as you sat on the dinning table chair.

“My legs are killing me,” Zhou agreed, not only had he had a terrible work out in the morning but you both had covered way more than 10,000 steps in that mall.

“Want to nap?” You offered, knowing very well he could just go a floor below to his own home.

“Sure, turn on screen mirroring on your tv, I’ll show you the drivers chat,” he said heading into your room and you ran behind him with glee.

The gossip was the best part of being friends with Zhou, that and the really warm cuddles he gave, “oh my god, Charles and Max again?” You laughed and leaned on his shoulders as he relayed all the details to you, his voice slowly softening as you both drifted into a peaceful sleep.

[brehaaorgana]

ADHD money/budgeting system I'm currently using for my benefit is going well (I've been using it for like half a year now?), and I wanna recommend it.

You Need a Budget is EXCELLENT. 10/10 do recommend. Uhhh rambling about it and my generic disclaimers + gushing extensively under the cut but TL;DR I think it's great for ADHD ppl, I've used it for 6+ months now and I find it super SUPER helpful. also weirdly fun.

DISCLAIMERS:

Budgeting helps you understand/know your money, it can't make money appear where there is none.

Everyone should learn to budget even if you don't have much money (especially then)

This is NOT a magic trick solution. Just like everything else, it is an assistive tool. This is one of those adult things we can't simply opt out of without negative consequences, though.

My advice is based on something I am currently able to do. That is, I can spend an amount of money on this specific thing that works well for me. If you have no extra money to spend then previously I was tracking things in a notebook. So you can still do this.

I believe Dave Ramsey is a fundie fraud/hack and no one should listen to him about money.

DID YOU KNOW THEY CANCELLED MINT???

Okay? OKAY.

Ahem.

You Need a Budget is EXCELLENT.

It is called YNAB for short. The first 34 days are your free trial, and that is my referral link. If anyone uses it and then signs up for a subscription, we both get a month free. Also you can share a subscription with up to six people (account owner can see everything but individuals can pick and choose what they share amongst each other) so like...idk your whole polycule can be on one account. Or your kids. Whatever.

If you are a student, it's free for a year. If you aren't, a subscription is $99 for a year (paid all at once) or $14.99 monthly, which is equivalent to paying Amazon prime. Go cancel Prime and get this instead tbh.

They got a whole article just on ynab and ADHD. They also have like...a big variety of ways to access their info? They have a book, podcast episodes, YouTube videos, blog posts, q&A's, free live workshops you can join (you can request live captioning), emails they can send (if you want) a wiki, and so on. They got workshops on all kinds of topics!!

So whatever ends up working for your brain. It also has a matching app.

If you lost Mint this year they have a gajillion things for moving from Mint.

Also they have a "got five minutes?" Page which has a slider so you can decide how much attention/time you have before going on lol:

They only have 4 rules of the budget, they're simple and practical, and it doesn't get judgey or like...mean about your spending.

1. Give every dollar a job 2. Embrace your true expenses 3. Roll with the punches 4. Age your money.

THEN THEY BREAK THESE DOWN INTO SMALL STEPS FOR YOU! They even have a printable! Also these rules are great because there's built in expectations that things WILL HAPPEN and it's NOT all or nothing with a fear of total collapse into failure. Reality and The Plan don't always align, especially if you have ADHD. So it's directing our energy towards the true expenses and not clinging to The Plan!! over reality.

You can automate a lot of shit (you can sync with your bank accounts just like mint, but also automate tagging the categories of regular expenses/transactions). And if for whatever reason you accidentally do something that makes the budget look weird or wrong:

A) you can usually fix it somehow OR b) they have like, a button you can press that gives you a clean slate and archives the previous version of the budget for you.

So if you forget for a few weeks or months, or accidentally input something wildly wrong, or just don't want to look at a really terrible month anymore and feel like you need a fresh start you can usually either fix it or start fresh which is really nice.

The app also (for whatever reason) scratches my itch to have things like...have incentives or little game-like goals in a way mint never did? I don't know why. Filling up the bars or putting money into the categories to cover my expenses is satisfying lmao. You can also make a big wish expense category for all the fun shit you want, and fund it whenever you can and then you can see the little bar go up and that's fun.

Anyways I've been using it for like 6+ months now and I think it's really helped me when I use it.

[cipheramnesia]

This is the process my brain goes through every time I see anything about Netflix Avatar The Last Airbender.

My first reaction is always: Why? The original, although not without flaws, doesn't leave a lot of room to improve. A good remake or adaptation usually involves an updated context or change in perspective that adds to the original work and gives it new meaning. It's a risky undertaking because it usually involves wanting to take on something established as iconic and make it your own. But Netflix is a corporation and seems very risk averse for the most part. Its only investment is in the name recognition of AtLA. It's hard to visualize Netflix deliberately taking a big risk on an expensive show.

My second reaction is: How? The original series is about 1400 minutes over 61 episodes, and it still had to rush the ending. We're looking at 8 episodes of roughly 45-60 minutes per episode for season 1, which would require Netflix to let it run more than 3 seasons, if the series has similar pacing. Historically however Netflix shows have glacial pacing, and rarely make three seasons. Not really sure how they plan to tell the story if the series is anything like the average Netflix series, meaning it either needs to undercut the story or let the series breathe for at least five seasons. But nothing Netflix has done makes me want to watch anything they make as an ongoing series? Why bother, they cancel everything I enjoy. So I wonder how. What's the hook to say "this will be able to provide something new and interesting compared to the original, and will be allowed to tell the complete story."

Which leads me to think, but you can't judge if something is good without seeing it. Except none of this is about whether it's good, I just find myself wondering what are the odds it's worth the effort? They're low, and it has nothing to do with whether or not it's even any good on its own merits.

Following this, I ask myself, what would a good version of this be. Imagine you are making a live action series with eight hour long episodes per season based on a children's cartoon with 20 thirty minute episodes per season. You are trying to encompass a story which was presented over three seasons as a cartoon, and you do not know if you will have more than those eight episodes. It's made for Netflix which, in terms of a company which will protect the hard earned fruits of your artistic labor, is the fox guarding the henhouse. What do you do?

If you are looking to make something good, that respects your audience investment and your own work, you make radical changes to the story. You change the pacing, the character arcs, the plot arcs. You make sure you deliver a complete story in those episodes with as much respect for the original work and as many new ideas as you can.

Except, at that point, what is even the point of a remake. The only way to work with it is either to trust Netflix allowing you to finish the story (which you'd need to be incredibly naive to do), or tell a story so different it may as well be wholly original. And that's where I always end up. Like, it'll probably be fine, but what's the point of it all? Another vanishing digital property to get canceled because of some undefinable failure to return on investment.

I think about it a lot because the two ends of the spectrum seem to be "dunk on every new piece of information" or "wait and see" but the only conclusion I can ever reach is "why even care?" That's been the lesson to take home from digital streaming in general when it comes to series, but Netflix in particular, and honestly for movie series too. If it can't be self contained, the companies who produce and release these kinds of series just cannot be trusted with it, and there are too many good original stories being put out to care anymore about big budget promises that one day they will definitely for sure deliver a finished story, this time for real.

I care enough to think about why I don't feel anything at all about Netflix Avatar. It'll be fine, whatever else. Just fine.

[yet-another-heathen]

Wick's Whump Drive - I

This is a commissioned piece for @light-me-on-pyre, who was kind enough to participate in my ongoing whump drive for Palestinian aid.

Want in? Donate $5/€5 or more to ANY Palestinian fundraiser, send me the receipt, and I'll write a custom whump drabble for you, too.

Prompt: "How would you write deconditioning?"

[ My lessons on how to write realistic conditioning can be found here. ]

---

TW | realistic whump recovery, emotional whump, brief argument, PTSD, flashbacks, intentional deconditioning attempt, implied past character death (whumper)

It wasn't the word itself this time. It was the way Caretaker said it.

"Kneel."

Whumpee went down hard. The mental cursing began when his knees were about two inches from hitting the ground. Too late to stop the movement. Plenty of time to hate himself for following through.

Where his knees hit, the jarring spike of stacking bruises felt like a punch. Failure.

Another. Fucking. Failure.

Whumpee groaned in frustration, hands balling in his hair. Then he was on his feet again, pacing. "Again."

"Whumpee, I think we've had enough for toni—"

"No! No, I need to try again! I have to get this right just once before I stop." He turned again on his heel, leaving another path in the carpet. "We keep going. I just— I just need to keep going."

Caretaker raised an eyebrow, not moving from where he knelt. With that endless patience that was beginning to grate on Whumpee's nerves, "...we have been at this for an hour. Your nerves are getting more and more frayed by the minute. You said yourself that this works best when you're calm."

"And what if I'm wrong?" Whumpee whirled around on him, tears in his eyes. "I keep failing. I've barely managed to stop myself three times this whole week. Out of what? Four dozen attempts? Five? Every time I quit I end up backsliding more and more. I can't keep giving up. This has to work."

"It will be easier—"

"Are you going to say it or not? You said you would help me!"

Caretaker looked taken aback. And just as quickly, his expression shuttered.

"What do you think I've been doing for the last hour?" he asked. "Don't forget— I still get to say 'no', too."

The reminder hit like a slap. Not because Caretaker was wrong. Because he was right.

It had taken everything Whumpee had just to keep making it through the practice sessions. With how bad things had gotten, he barely had the capacity to take care of himself right now. Let alone worry any of the people around him.

Was that how he'd been acting? Was that what Whumpee was denying him? Even the choice to be a part of this?

After standing there for another far too long moment, Whumpee let out a sigh and came back over to Caretaker. He slipped to the floor beside him, folding his knees up to his chest, back pressed to the couch.

Quieter, rougher, "...Yeah. Yeah, you do." He couldn't bring himself to look at him. "I'm sorry."

Although Caretaker didn't say anything, Whumpee could see the moment the tension in his shoulders let go. The fight passed over them like a distant shadow.

"I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this," Whumpee murmured. He wrapped his arms around his knees, resting his chin on his forearms. "Between the nightmares and the memories... I'm just... I'm so tired." Quieter still, "I can't seem to get that monster out of my head."

"You've not been sleeping." It wasn't a question.

"...I've been trying to. I really have. But I end up just laying there, thinking the same five thoughts on repeat, over and over and over. Things haven't been this bad since—"

A flash of bright light. Wrists rubbed raw. Whumpee was doubled over, arms wrapped around himself. Screaming himself raw with a flood of relief and despair and a hundred other emotions that he could never admit aloud. Blood spreading on the cement floor. Blood that finally, finally wasn't his own.

Whumpee flinched, twisting his face away from the sight. As if this was something he could just look away from. As if the memories weren't printed into his retinas like the afterimage of lightning.

He took a few slow, steadying breaths, shaking on every exhale. Clenched his trembling hands, open and closed. Open and closed. Eventually he managed a raspy, "...since before."

Caretaker watched, worried. But he knew better than to reach for Whumpee without asking first.

"Whumpee... you've been butting up against this same block for weeks now. I've watched you try everything except the most obvious thing there is. You need to rest." Whumpee opened his mouth to say something, but Caretaker cut him off before he could argue. "—I'm not telling you to quit. I know why you can't, and I would never ask it of you. But there's a difference between giving up, and taking enough time to catch your breath before the next sprint."

Whumpee averted his eyes again, throat working against the burn of building tears. But he was listening.

Softer, "You said this was something you'd be working on for the rest of your life. If that's true, then there's time. For just a few days... give yourself some of the softness you went so long without. Take enough time to be gentle with the man you're trying so hard to save."

The words had hit their mark. He watched as Whumpee's face crumpled. His breath hitched once, and he broke into a sob. Then Whumpee finally reached out for him, and Caretaker didn't hesitate to pull him into hug.

He buried his face against Caretaker's chest, everything he'd been holding back falling apart at once. Pain. Despair. Hope. Grief. All of it came pouring out with his voice.

"There. I've got you," Caretaker murmured, closing his eyes. Exhausted, but relieved that something had finally gotten through. "...I've got you."

[novankenn]

Cinder: (Swings door open quickly ignoring the note.) My Queen! Those brats have broke into the castle we must stop!

(Pauses while looking at the scene)

Jaune: (His head on Weiss's lap as she runs her fingers though his hair) Alyx was a brat but she still was like family she didn't deserve what that cat did.

Salem: I understand life is usually cruel. Now tell me more about this Curious Cat.

Cinder: WTF?!?

Cinder stalked through the halls and corridors of EverNight Castle. Her twin obsidian blades ready to strike down the intruders... if she could find them. Normally she would have zeroed in on the sounds of conflict and combat, but there was none. The grimm she passed, when she did come across them were just wandering about aimlessly, that was if they weren't sitting or laying down.

So without the sounds of a fierce pitched battle to guide her, Cinder was forced to actually search for the interlopers... who she knew was team RWBY and their friends.

Cinder: This is RIDICULOUS! I must ask my queen for help, to locate these brats.

Cinder made a turn at the next corner and stomped her way toward the throne room. She emerged from one of the side halls into the main corridor and turned towards her destination. Five minutes later she stood there before the large double doors... in total shock.

Cinder: I...

A Beowulf, dressed in a tasteful skirt and blouse ensemble, matched with a set of sensible heels, and topped off with a pearl necklace, and a pair of wire rim glasses... stood before the doors baring her entry.

Cinder: I...

The Beowulf pointed to a sign near the door, well a set of signs in fact. It took ever ounce of her will power to draw her eyes off the figure before her, and look at the signs.

(1) If the doors are closed there is either a meeting or session in progress. Unless it is an EMERGENCY no admittance.

(2) Sessions are by appointment ONLY.

(3) This is a ZERO TOLERANCE work place. Anyone causing a disturbance, or harassing staff will be asked to leave. Failure to do so will cause the authorities to be summoned.

(4) I am the boss, but my secretary is in charge. If she says NO then it's NO. There are no exceptions.

Cinder: Secretary?

The Beowulf nodded its head and using a metal ruler tapped the desk name plate.

Cinder: Grendelsa Grimmsald, Executive Assistant to Doctor Salem Salem?

The Beowulf who Cinder now knew was named Grendelsa nodded.

Cinder: But, I...

Grendelsa: *Grunt like growl*

Cinder: I know I don't have an appointment, but this is an emergency! The castle is under attack! I must speak to Queen...

Grendelsa: *Growl like grunt*

Cinder: I mean Doctor Salem.

Grendelsa pointed to a set of rather comfy looking waiting room chairs, and Cinder knew instantly she had no choice. So she sat down, and after a few seconds wiggled her butt into the plush cushioning getting more comfortable.

Cinder dozed off, and awoke with a start at the sound of the door opening.

Salem: I understand it is quiet the commute so I will have Grendelsa arrange for some accommodations for you, as in my opinion there is a need to have a few more sessions over the next week before I feel confident that we can space them out further. Is that acceptable Ms Schnee? Mr Arc?

Weiss: More than. Thank you for your hospitality, and all your help.

Cinder shot to her feet, her eyes wide in shock. Salem, her queen. Malevolent Evil Incarnate was in a black pant suit, wearing glasses and SHAKING HANDS with the SCHNEE who was holding the hand of the blond wanna-be knight from Beacon!

Jaune: I still don't...

Salem: It's alright Mr Arc. These things take time, and we progress at the pace that you set. There is no rushing this. Your mental health is very important, and with Ms Schnee's support and my assistance we will help you find resolutions.

Weiss: Can we give it a couple more sessions Jaune? I really do think this is good for you, me and us.

Jaune: Okay. I'll try a few more times.

Salem: Excellent. Grendelsa will make all the...

Cinder: WHAT THE FUCK IT THIS!!!!

Salem: Ms Fall. Those types of outbursts are not acceptable!

Cinder: WHAT THE FUCK, SALEM? THEY'RE FROM BEACON! THEY'RE YOUR ENEMIES!

Salem: Lower your voice or you will be escorted out.

Cinder: WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!?!? ARE YOU GIVING THEM THERAPY???

Salem: You were warned Ms Fall. Ms Grimmslad if you please...

/==/

Twenty minutes later Cinder found herself sitting outside of the main gate of EverNight Castle, right next to Ruby Rose, Yang Xiao Long, and Blake Belladonna.

Ruby: You get kicked out too?

Cinder: ...

[ooouuunahnah]

We all have our vices; for Izuku Midoriya it’s you.

Enjoy this Izuku x Str!pper reader one shot

Plz excuse grammar and spelling errors I did not spell check

Minors DNI

“I need new friends.” Is all Izuku can think about when the smell of sweat and ass is clouding his senses. His so called ‘friends’ have kidnapped him from his comfortable solitude of self pity and have dragged him to see an ‘exotic’ dancer show. Yea, they brought him to a strip club; to somehow distract him from the fact that the love of his life has dumped him and is probably screwing his junior.

He doesnt blame Ochako, they were both too busy loving their careers more than each other; it couldn’t be helped.

“PLEASE JUST ONE CHEEK!?” A few feet away from him Mineta is practically harassing a dancer whose resemblance to Jessica rabbit is uncanny.

His perverted friend is on his knees, shaky hands clamped in front of him and elephant tears streaming from his face. “I’LL GIVE YOU ALL OF MY MONEY IF YOU JUST SIT ON MY FACEEE.”

Izuku frowns his face up. “What’s that look for?” He turns his attention to the beautiful headache who helped drag him here, Mina.

“I wanna go home.” She rolls her eyes, “You’re a grown man Deku you’re free to come and go wherever you please.” He starts to stand up when Mina practically body slams him back into his seat and crash landing onto his lap.

Izuku exhales but it comes out strained, “Don’t you think Ejirou would be a tad bit upset if he sees his girl sitting on his friends lap?”

She takes a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, “We’re on the outs.” Izuku adjusts himself and leans back (might as well get comfortable since he’s stuck here).

“Ooh I can tell, you tend to do disrespectful shit whenever he pisses you off.” Which is quite often I might add.

She leans into me, swirling her glass of champagne. *sigh* “I went to through his phone.” She says putting the glass to her lips and gulping down half of its contents.

I lean further into my seat, it’s gonna be a long night. “And?” I take the champagne from her and buck the rest and she puts her chin in the hand that was just holding her glass.

“There are girls literally flooding his DM’s and I don’t even wanna talk about his snap chat.” I wince knowing that she’d find a pretty similar situation in my phone.

But in both of our defense, “They’re probably just a bunch of thirsty fans. What makes you think he’s replied to any of them.”

Her glare is deadly, “You both are disgusti- you know what tonight isn’t about me it’s about how my best friend dumped you on your ass and you’re being a whiny baby about it.”

I return her glare, “Oh I’m the whiny one but you’re sitting on my lap bitching about a few thirst traps sent to, and I quote,” (throwing up air quotes to emphasize my point) “your man that’s not your man.”

“You know what you’re hurt so I’m going to let that one slide.” I roll my eyes as she continues. “As I was saying tonight is about you getting laid by a hot stripper and possibly forgetting about your failed attempt at love.”

A mix of pain and annoyance flutters through my chest at the mention of my failure as a boyfriend ..and a man. A solemn expression takes over my face much to Mina’s disdain.

“Stop that.” “Stop what ?” “That face, stop feeling sorry for yourself. I love Ochako to death but she’s not worth loosing yourself over.” I let out a breath, “Well it feels like I’ve already lost myself.” “Well then,” she smiles sinisterly. “Let’s get you a stripper who can help you find it. ”

She jumps up with newfound enthusiasm. “I’m gonna find you the BADDEST bitch of the bunch. And she’s going to be all yours for the night.” She promises, I offer her a small smile then she turns and leaves eager to complete her mission.

She’s gone all but five minutes before she returns jumping up and down with the excitement of a kid in a candy store. “Izuku get up get up I found her.” She pulls on my arms urging me up, I eye her suspiciously

unconvinced, “You found her that quick ?” “YES. She’s so fine if you don’t hit I will.” I laugh at her genuinely amused, “Their job is to dance not fuck.” She waves me off and continues to lead me to the mystery girl, “Yea yea I heard that in a Cardi B song but trust me you’ll want to.

Before I know it I’m sitting down in a led lit room with a pole and stage, soft music playing in the background. “Hi.” She smiles at me, “H-hi.” I clear my throat, she’s beautiful, like drop dead gorgeous. I’m thinking 5’7-8, brown eyes, black volumous coils just above her shoulders, lips full and two toned no less. Fuck, her lips.

And a body that could definitely take away my worries for the night. She tilts her head noticing my staring, I meet her eyes again. “Um what’s your name ?” “S/N” (stage/name) “I mean your real name”, amusement lacing my voice. She leans into me ,“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would yes” my voice dropping to a whisper as she closes in, we lock eyes and just when I think she might come in for a kiss she pulls away and to my surprise straddles me. “None of my clients know my real name” I tense as she moves her hips against me. “Maybe I’m special” my hands land on her hips,

“Not that special”. I’m growing hard, in the span of 15 minutes she had grind on me in ways I didn’t even know someone could. She’s about to sit back down on me when I grab her hips trying to catch a breath. Stopstopstopstopstop, I let out a huff trying to contain myself and she looks at me in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” she asks and I word vomit, “Nothing nothing you’re amazing really but this is really REALLY turning me on and I know you’re just doing your job so I don’t want to make it weird and you feel how you’re affecting me and it creeps you out and makes you uncomfortable and-“ , her beautiful laughter interrupts my rant.

She makes her way to me and straddles my lap, it’s not weird it’s normal happens all the time”, she proceeds to move her hips directly over my erect dick. My voice is strained, “Does it not make you uncomfortable?” “ Sometimes but it’s part of the job.”

In this case tho you were very respectful and honest on your part, I’m not used to that”, she leans in wrapping her arms around my neck voice dropping to a whisper, “kinda turns me on.” My dick jumps at the praise and she must feels it because she picks up her pace quicker than the music.

My hips unconsciously meets hers and she moans softly at the feeling. My hands tighten on her waist, “Sweetheart.. I’m going to cum in my pants if you keep this up.” This time she lifts her hips up a bit to drag herself down harder on me and I shudder at the friction created, she leaning and whispers aginst my lips, “As long as I get off too.”

A smirk spreads across my face, “That can be arranged.” Before I can think to stop myself I press my lips to hers fully swallowing her moans and tasting her on my tounge as she slides hers in my mouth. Then I’m on her neck kissing licking and sucking anywhere I can, anywhere she’ll allow me to all while drinking in her delicious Moans.

She taste so good, how can anyone’s skin taste this good??? “ I just wanna eat you up.” I whisper aginst her skin, she laughs in response but it’s cut off by a moan when hold her tighter and ground her against me.

I can help but feel everything I can, I’m touching her waist her breast her ass, my hands would be in her beautiful hair if they weren’t already occupied. I can practically feel her through my pants with the growing wet spot I already know is there.

Her Rythum is slowing and she’s tugging on my hair and I’m cuming. I’m coming in my fucking pants in a strip club hunching one of the dancers of all things. The music has stopped and the sound of our heavy breathing fills the room, I’m still squeezing her ass cuz it’s a really nice ass and my hands have become content being there. “Fuck.”

I whisper against her skin “Fuck.” She repeats, I have a feeling she’s never done this with one of her clients before but I think we can both agree that it was one of the most intense orgasms we’ve ever had…with our clothes still on at that. She pulls back first and I lift my head to look at her.

She’s so pretty with her hair ruffled, lips swollen, and her breath uneven.” “That was..” “Amazing” ,I finish for her, she bites her lip at that. I place a kiss against her neck, “Let’s do it again..” She laughs softly, “We’ll see about that, maybe at your next visit?”

I’m getting hard again at the thought of coming back and sharing another mind blowing orgasm. I whisper aginst her lips, “It’s a date.” “Y/N,” “What?” “My name, it’s Y/N.” My chest warms at the confession, “You can call me Deku.” “That’s not your name.” I lean in and tuck a loose curl behind her ear, “I’ll tell you next time.” She rolls her eyes playfully, “It’s a date.”

[bones4thecats]

Hello, 😊 anon here. Your amazing digital circus writing was amazing - it had me smiling the whole day! I got excited when I saw you took requests for cartoon villains from some shows I like, so I figured I'd send in a request for a few of them 😊

Could I request His Imperial Majesty (HIM), Ice King, and Doofenshmirtz who have a platonic mentor-student relationship with the reader, and how they handle having a protégé who is quite skilled but also very nervous or anxious? Like, they struggle to do things in the moment or under pressure (if that makes sense)

I hope you have a nice day 👍

Protégé! Reader Having Atychiphobia

Characters: HIM, Ice King, and Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz Requester: 😊Anon A/N: This is full of so much fluff and angst that it's making my head spin! Also, just noting the Reader is said to have minor Atychiphobia, which has a definition below! Have fun reading this btw! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Adventure Time S3 Eps19-20, and Phineas and Ferb's numerous episodes (I'm to lazy to name every single on with his backstory mentioned) finally, warnings for mentions of failure, disappointment, accidental harm, mental - physical - child abuse, and attempted child murder ⚠️ ~ Atychiphobia; "Atychiphobia is an intense fear of failure. It comes from the Greek word 'atyches,' meaning 'unfortunate.' People with atychiphobia may avoid any situation where they see a potential for failure, such as an exam or job interview." ~ My.ClevelandClinic.org

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»—————————-　 His Infernal Majesty 　—————————-««

❤️ Being born in the Underworld to demonic parents was hard, but it got worse when they showed their true sides and attempted to kill you early on in your life

❤️ Thankfully, your future adopted mentor, His Infernal Majesty, or HIM, had found out about the failed attempt and allowed the multiple malevolent and blood-thirsty members of the lands to have their fun with them (essentially ridding all dimensions of them)

❤️ Over the course of a couple days, HIM was trying to find another space you could go. He wasn't a fan of happiness, yet you were seemingly full of it whenever he was around. From giving his legs hugs to even gifting him small drawings or really any kind of creation you made out of your stone-making ability

❤️ HIM began to actually enjoy having you around. You showed a potential like no other demon or monster he had ever seen, well, other than himself of course

❤️ Over the passing years and eventual eon, HIM really leaned into acting like a father to you. Your powers had grown to a length that many feared you the same as they did the King of Darkness

❤️ Every single time he asked you to carry something out, you did so successfully, and he saw no sign of you being anxious or in any kind of denial about your abilities. You were gifted a kind of 'magic' that allowed you to just make people into stone and send them to be dust like nothing. You were powerful, but you were also fragile

"Y/N? Ah, there you are, youngling! How are you on this majestically horrible day?"

❤️ Looking up from your desk, you used your acting skills to try getting your teacher to leave you alone so you could finish your breakdown. Just a few days ago he had assigned you a task of getting some of Townsville's villains on your side, but you seemingly couldn't get them to listen for more than five minutes

"I'm fine, my Lord."

"Your aura is off, kiddo. I'm no fool. Now, tell me what is going on. Or else I may have to resort to not-so-kind methods."

❤️ You knew he was bluffing and just wanted you to speak your mind, but in your fear and depressed-stricken state, you believed him to be fully honest. So, you lifted your head fully and looked at him, making him startled at seeing how red your eyes had become. They were comparable to his very own skin!

❤️ He got down from the counter-top he was sitting on and walked towards you before opening his claw-hands and using one end to lift your chin to stare at him in the eyes

"Who did this."

"The assignment... it was just so hard! The damn mortals won't listen to any of the ideas you gave me on this accursed paper! They just- they won't let their egos fall for one lick of a second!"

❤️ HIM sighed and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, allowing you some time to rest. He understood what was wrong now. Every one of your plans when handling others to manipulate were successful, but this time you were failing. You feared disappointing him, and while he would normally push his worker aside and make them fear it even more, you mattered to him

"How about this; I take you outside and give you something else to do to take your mind away from this task. I'll just assign it to somebody else. Does that sound good?"

"Yeah.. thanks, Dad."

"...No problem, Rockstar."

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»————————————-　  Ice King  　————————————-««

In this, the reader is based off changelings from MLP:FiM. Here are two pieces of fanart I went off from: child-form / older-form

🧊 Long ago, you were once a young child, being held by your parents in the cozy cabin of theirs. Well, that was before they noticed differences in you that wasn't obvious before. From your extremely pointy ears to having fairly large eyes with a prominent blue shade and not the normal (e/c), they grew fearful and asked a species expert what was wrong

🧊 He had taken one look into your eyes and screamed for you to be taken away, you were a changeling. A creature that would become anything for the gain of love and affection to feed themselves and their empty-hearts

🧊 You were a mere 5-year-old, now living on your own in the freezing forest and mountain-tops ruled by the feared Ice King. Over the next couple months, you traveled randomly, trying to find something, someone, who would accept you

🧊 If you were left like nothing, it was obvious your real home had no use for you. After all, abandoning such a young hunter is fruitless

🧊 As you sat down next to a makeshift camp, you heard the sounds of small footprints pushing snow down. The footsteps began to get closer, making you look up in fear as you bared your fangs and hissed, your long tongue flailing about in an attempt to scare the being off

🧊 You then noticed a taller male looking down at you with some penguins around him, he looked at you confusingly before asking who you were

"Y/N..."

"Well Y/N. Why are you out here in the cold, by what I understand, humans can't survive fully out here."

🧊 It took a little while, and by that I mean by Guntar, or maybe one of his clones? It was hard to keep track sometimes. He grabbed your hand and rubbed his face on it, before turning around and looking at the mystery man with hope in his big eyes. Ice King sighed and motioned for you to follow them home

🧊 Over the following hundred years, you grew into a well-liked changeling. Though many had no clue of your true species. All it took for others to really accept you was the friendship you made with Princess Bubblegum

🧊 When you finally began to share the feeling of love with somebody, that being the Queen who abandoned you, you went from the colors of the night to having light green skin and many parts of you representing the insects you loved messing with at home

🧊 Finn and Jack understood why you were fearful to return home, with with their assurance, you gave them all one last hug before flying away to confront your adoptive father

🧊 Ice King was shocked to hear his name being called out by you, normally you were fairly mute and would just tug on his arm to get his attention

"Y/N...? Are you alri-"

🧊 Seeing a taller and far more colorful changeling there made Ice King shriek and ready himself with his magic, making you jump and begin to fearfully ramble on what happened

"I'm sorry, Boss! I didn't mean to disappoint you!"

"Disappoint me...? Y/N, what are you going on about?! I took you in hundreds of years ago by my own will... and maybe Guntar #53's as well. But STILL!"

🧊 Looking up from your bowing position, you noticed that Ice King had sat in front of you and was smiling gently. An obvious care was laying in him that he never revealed to anyone else

"You are my child. Maybe not from blood, but you're still my child."

"R-really?"

"Yep! No tricks, swear on my crown!"

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»————————-　 Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz 　————————-««

🔫 When Dr. Doofenshmirtz first met you, you were walking around Danville with your pet banana ball python wrapped around your neck, giving you small flicks of his tongue

🔫 You smiled at him and pat his tiny head lightly, moving around the people walking down the sidewalks. You then groaned when you heard a loud woman's voice, it was your old friend, Maddeline

🔫 Maddeline ran up to you and slightly jumped at seeing your snake, before calming down and asking where you had been for the past five years. You just rolled your eyes and let your snake roll down into your hand, holding the reptile up to her

🔫 She was getting more freaked out as the snake began to slither up to try biting her, making her run away in fear

🔫 You had no interest in speaking of the past five years. All of the failed attempts at pleasing your family members remained grilled into your memories, making you despise any mention of them

🔫 Thankfully, it only took a trip to the nearby grocery store to meet another female, one that seemed to be around 16 or so years old. She introduced herself as Vanessa Doofenshmirtz, making you chuckle, such an odd last name

🔫 A few weeks later, you and Vanessa began to hang out, seeing one another around so often had to be a sin for friendship. One day, the sound of a slightly boisterous and scratchy male's voice made you both look up, and seeing how Vanessa reacted, you only assumed it was her father. You were not-surprisingly correct

"Oh! Who's this little one, Vanessa?"

"This is Y/N, I met them a few weeks ago at the store a couple blocks down."

"Interesting. I'm Heinz Doofenshmirtz, Vanessa's father. It's nice to meet you, Y/N!"

"It's nice to meet you as well... Mr. Doofenshmirtz."

🔫 Shockingly, as the months passed of you and his daughter hanging out, you began to show a sign of high-intelligence, one that could rival Doof's entirely. One day, one of his -Inators had gone berserk and you ran up and disabled it in a matter of seconds

🔫 He almost immediately offered you a role in his work, specifically with going over his stuff to make sure his math and everything was correct. He didn't need another -Inator to fail again...

🔫 Over time of working with Vanessa's father, you gained a closeness almost similar to a father-child one. He showed you the kinder side of him, the same one he showed his daughter. And the way he praised you for your brilliance made you feel... nice. Like you had a purpose

🔫 Unfortunately for him and you though, one day you had gone over his calculations and gotten it wrong, making his invention crash and burn to nothing. And you panicked like nobody else was around

🔫 Was he going to yell at you? Scream? Scold you on how useless and a waste of space you were? Was he going to hate you...?

"Y/N, are you alright?!"

🔫 Looking up you saw Doofenshmirtz helping you up from the blast's damage. Why wasn't he yelling at you for screwing up so badly? He could've gotten severely hurt!

"Kid? You good?"

"Why... why aren't you yelling at me for screwing up?"

"What do you mean? It was an honest mistake. I've made millions! Besides, it's not like you make them all the time."

"So... you're not going to hit me and call me an idiot?"

"WHAT?! Who would do such a thing?! I may be an evil genius, but that makes zero sense to do!"

🔫 Doofenshmirtz looked into your eyes and noticed they were fogging over with tears. He could understand where you were coming from now. This must've been why you came to Danville, you had a bad family back home. He had one too

🔫 You began to sob as he hugged you, attempting to calm you down to the best of his abilities. And after a few minutes of reassuring words, you stopped crying and fell asleep, making him smile and lay you down in one of the rooms he set up for you and Vanessa whenever you two stayed over

🔫 Smiling as you rested, Doofenshmirtz couldn't help but wonder... just how similar were you two?

[glassrowboat]

🐻 carnival prize

Another Shot. Lyney.

Author's note: Sorry this took so long. This piece was just fighting me the entire time for some reason :/

Word count: 2,400+

“You suck.”

You couldn't help but click your tongue as, once again, the blond across the sticky counter, no doubt from countless grubby fingers and spilled cups containing fizzy soda with lids that weren't quite put on right, missed his target. The bright red and white circles seemingly teasing him as they waved back and forth with the poster boards of some animals they were slapped onto.

Well, this was the ‘Hunters Paradise’ shooting game.

“I am trying here.” The blond protested with a slight whine in his voice that you welcomed the sound of far more than the same song you've been forced to listen to on repeat for hours. The entire duration of your shift always proved to have that song playing in your ears even as your head hit a pillow in hopes of some quality shut eye. Haunting you even in your dreams.

Behind him was a woman with a funnel cake and white powder staining her gloves. Not that she seemed to mind, though, as she asked if he really was trying at all.

Aka: the popular brother and sister act of Fontaine standing right before you, and failing at playing a simple game while they're at it.

“You know, magician, I thought you'd be a bit better at this whole rigged games thing considering your profession revolves around sleight of hand.”

Or that he'd be slightly self-aware enough to realize these were just a complete money sink. Not that it seems that way as Lyney once again placed a few mora on the counter, even when his sister's tail twitched at the sight.

Another shot at the game to be had.

“One more try?” He asked.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, even as you picked up the basket containing the ammo (they were really just rubber bullets) and filled the plastic gun he had been holding back up to its limit. Six shots for another six failures.

“Haven't you learned any better?”

“Well, maybe I just need a good teacher to show me the way.” Lyned said with a wink.

You shoved the gun back in his hands, gesturing for Lyney to continue. Arm outstretched much like you'd seen the very man…if he could be called that..do five minutes earlier when some kids came up to him and asked Lyney to show them a few tricks.

It was a cute sight and certainly far more humble than the shows you've come to know him for. There was no grand spotlight shining on everything, setting a stage alight, but there were eyes full of excitement trying to track his every move.

It's why you thought he came over here in the first place, to give one of those tiny hands a toy to play with, but his flirting had quickly changed your mind on that conclusion.

“Just shoot, cause I'm not taking students.”

Miss. Miss. Miss.

At this point, you were just sharing a look with Lynette and trying not to snicker too obviously.

“Brother, I'm surprised you've been missing the targets so much when you're usually so skilled with a bow.” Lynette said, and that was enough to have your quiet giggles breaking out into a full fit even as you tried to hide them behind your hand.

“Well, dearest sister, this is very different from a bow.”

You were rolling another one of those rubber bullets, ones that are purposefully made with a weighted side, between your fingers as you muttered: “Yeah, right. Sounds like someone's making excuses.”

“Shouldn't you be a bit nicer to me here? I mean, I am putting in money to the booth you're running and all.” As he spoke, Lyney's words slowly trailed off, like even he knew that point was mute.

“I don't get paid enough to be nice.” You said, sticking your tongue out at him.

Not on minimum wage, anyway. It's barely enough to keep your teeth from gritting as that damn song starts again.

“Besides, you're like a celebrity anyway, so I'd imagine you have the money to blow on this.”

Another miss.

“So you've heard of me then? I didn't know my name was so popular in Fontaine. Especially not with such a lovely individual as yourself.”

“Yeah, I heard about you cause of that murder case trial.”

This time, you couldn't blame Lyney as he missed, not with the way he flinched at being called out. An accidental trigger poll. “Ah…well…I was on trial for another thing too if you didn't hear. I can tell you all about it.”

“Alright.” You said as you picked up another handful of bullets, already expecting Lyney to pay for another attempt as they rolled into your awaiting palm. “Regale me, magician.”

“Gladly. Now, picture this: a grand scene. One that has everyone holding their breath in sheer anticipation as I was brought to the stand as a thief. You see, the crime I committed was stealing your heart.”

As he spoke, Lyney was dramatically gesturing to himself with his open hand. Chest right over his heart. Or better yet: the frilled ruffles of his shirt.

(That outfit was not doing him any favors with the twink allegations.)

“He really does say some strange things.” Lynette said, trying to speak around the bite of her cake she had just taken. A notion you couldn't help but agree with.

As he missed again, you poked the pink stuffed rabbit hanging above you, the fuzz brushing against your finger as you forced it to swing back and forth from being jabbed at. Its little feet almost hit your head as you ducked under it. “You do know it would be cheaper to just go to the store and buy yourself a stuffed animal, right?”

“But, it wouldn't be the same, now would it?” Lyney reached up, grabbing the rabbit's leg to force it to stay still as he smiled at you. “This one would be given to me by you.”

You couldn't help the sigh that left you, not when he was such a persistent little bugger. Especially over something you're pretty sure your supervisor mentioned was bought in bulk for fifty bucks. “Next round then?”

Lyney nodded in agreement, repeating your words as you got everything ready again.

“I wasn't aware your downfall would be a single stuffed rabbit, brother.” You heard Lynette say as the trigger was pulled again.

“It's a big compliment to the thing, at least.”

“Thing.” She rolled your words on her tongue for a moment before shaking her head, and you couldn't help but wonder if her cat ears naturally twitched with the movement. “Perhaps we should give it a name. Maybe then it will convince my dear brother to actually be good at this game.”

“Reginald?” You asked.

Two sets of eyes landed on you, both with a raised brow right above them, clearly questioning why you chose that name of all things. “I've been in a regency romance kick. Don't worry about it.”

Lyney muttered a small “....Right.”

“Just-” You tapped the gun, only slightly annoyed by how you could feel a sticky residue left behind. Something you've had to wipe away countless times now only for it to return as another customer happily runs up to try their hand at this. “Just get back to playing the damn game.”

His laughter had you ducking your head, eyes cast down on the ground to count the few popcorn kernels around your feet.

Though you did smirk the second you saw Lyney missing the target again. A dancing deer going back and forth as if it came to life long enough just to stick its tongue out at him only to return to normal a split second later.

“So, you don't have any special tools to help you in that hat of yours?”

“Unfortunately, a magician can only hold so many items in these things without them being so tall they'd fall off my hat just by walking through a door.”

“I wouldn't worry about that then, I doubt you're even tall enough to touch the doorframe. Let alone have it knock anything of yours off.”

He shot the next bullet at you, hitting you right in the forehead before it fell to the ground with a soft plink.

“Oh now you can aim.” You rolled your eyes. “Don't make me take that from you.”

Much like one would with a misbehaving child.

“Well, I may be out of luck with my hat, but a magician always had a few cards up his sleeve.”

A shuffle of papers graced your ears, barely heard over the sound of the passing crowd and children's screams as they whirled around on the nearby roller coaster that spun your hair in its breeze everytime the carts rolled by, as Lyney suddenly held a few cards in his hands. Shuffling the small deck between deft fingers only for it to seemingly fly in the air with a mock surprised look on his face. One you rolled your eyes at to stop from focusing on the pout he put on only for the cards, or confetti really, to disappear with a flash.

“See?” He asked, just waiting to see your awed expression.

“Impressive. Anyway.”

As you turned away from him, you caught Lynette covering up her laugh as Lyney looked back at her, head snapping. Only to start whining a second later. “Here I am, the greatest magician in all of Teyvat being kind enough to share a free show, and I only get an ‘anyway.’”

Nodding Lynette replied back with: “You did get an ‘impressive’ too.”

“In a tone that clearly said our lovely booth vendor here didn't really think much of it!”

You were half tempted to pipe up and say you have a name, only pinned onto your chest in bold font and surrounded by stickers you slapped onto the badge, but you held your tongue. They'd figure it out eventually as you walked over to the dancing cardboard animals.

Moving up and down endlessly.

Maybe they really were taunting him, you thought as you pushed one over and a loud ringing that caused you to flinch back, despite the fact you were expecting it. A robotic voice calling out "you did great, hunter” in what had to be the most half-hearted attempt at sounding cheery (and you work with teenagers) catching the twins’ attention.

“Congrats, Teyvat’s best magician, you won.”

Holding back on your urge to mock his bow at the end of each show, you pull the pink stuffed rabbit Lyney was playing with early off the hook it was hanging on. Floppy ears whacking your arm as you held it out to him.

“Wait, but I didn't even shoot the target myself. I can't say I won anything if I didn't do it myself.”

“And that matters why?” You asked as you shoved it into his arms.

“Well- I-” Lyney hugged the rabbit tight, wrapping his arms around it as he fumbled over his words. Struggling to get just the right sentence that would catch your attention. “You see, Reginald here-”

“Because the rabbit was supposed to be for you.” Lynette piped up. Hands clapped together as she dusted off the powdered sugar clinging to them, letting the few crumbs left of her dessert fall to the ground.

“I was supposed to tell them that, sister!”

You looked down at the rabbit, big ears the same as always, and a bow tied around its neck suddenly seeming slightly more tolerable after all the stuffies you had to fix when the shipment first arrived. Sewing them back where they belonged took hours and left your fingers pricked and stained red to high Celesta. You had cursed them then…but now.

“For me?” You asked hesitantly.

Lyney rubbed at the back of his neck, the fabric of his shirt rustling slightly with the movement as it just barely concealed a nervous bead of sweat sliding down his skin. “That was the intention, lovely booth vendor. You see, I saw you watching my performance earlier and thought you would like a personal show. One that may or may not have included pulling Reginald here out of a hat.”

“And because he thought you were cute.”

“Sister!” Lyney cried. “Please, can you stop outing me?”

You found yourself watching the two, fingers twitching into the rabbit’s plush fur. Truly, it was amazing how bad of a wing woman Lynette was, but considering Lyney wasn't doing himself much favors before, maybe she isn't doing too bad of a job. Even if she is currently looking upset with him, ears pulled back at the sudden change in his volume.

“Sorry. My apologies, truly, just..please allow me to take it from here. A magician sometimes has to perform a trick or two without their assistant.” He playfully tipped his hat, Lyney’s expression just out of your sight as the twins stared at each other.

“You know,” you interjected, right when Lynette was about to open her mouth, “I wouldn't mind seeing that trick. Or two.”

Spinning around on his heel, Lyney looked at you, eyes wide. Not that you could blame him after being so abrasive, but to be fair, he did that to himself.

“I'm serious.”

“Really? You are?” Lyney asked, hand taking your own that was still keeping the rabbit dangling in the air that carried the scent of fried food on it.

With your confirmation, he pushed the rabbit back towards you with a smile. The same one you saw Lyney giving those children who were running around him as he performed trick after trick at their behest. “Then I'll entrust Reginald to be in your care. And um…”

Your brow raised as you waited for Lyney to finish his sentence, but he kept looking back between the rabbit you were now hugging to your chest and you.

Though, you were half expecting Lynette to chime in with another comment even as she stood to the side watching you two with a deadpan expression.

“And if you happen to actually win the game,” you pointed back towards the dancing cutouts that were once again primed to be shot at, “then your prize can be a date with me. If I get to pick where and when.”

“Well then, our lovely booth vendor,” Lyney said as he placed the coins on the counter, a small chime coming from the handful of mora as they bounced against each other. “Can I have one more round?”

Let's just hope giving him another shot works in your favor you thought as you once again filled the plastic gun full of ammo.

[foldingfittedsheets]

Here’s a story about the time I almost lost my virginity. This is of course a social construct and by a broader understanding had already been lost years earlier at a sleepover with my best friend. But I digress.

I was dating a boy in high school. I shall call him Drama Boy. DB was big into theater, he made home movies and did stage performances at his high school.

Now. I must make this notation here, because the ending to this story will be savage otherwise, but DB put entirely too much of his mental well-being on my shoulders. He was often depressed and it was my job to constantly be helping him to regulate that.

The night our story took place we had been dating for eight months. During those months had been a ludicrous amount of making out and groping, even one lusty fumble that almost ended in penetration I vetoed on the grounds of not having a condom. It’s worth noting the first time we made out I felt physically sick to my stomach but I assumed that was normal.

But our parents didn’t give us much opportunity to really do anything like we imagined real sex to be. Until he came over for a movie night and my parents left on a date.

Scandalous, some might say, of my parents to leave us unchaperoned. But my parents were very blasé about sexual topics. They knew I was well educated and careful. Their leaving was possibly a gift of privacy rather than carelessness.

So when DB arrived for our movie night, we both knew This Was The Night. The night we’d lose our virginity.

We were both nervous and excited. The weight of societal pressure blanketed both of us, convincing us that this was the most momentous night of sex either of us could ever have.

DB chose a wretched movie. We sat through the first part dutifully before we started making out sloppy style. As I’d said previously, we’d done plenty of making out and hand stuff. Which is why I noticed that DB did not seem to be as… rigid as he had on other occasions.

A kinder more mature lens has softened my perspective. He was so nervous. But at the time I was a bit offended that I wasn’t arousing enough to have him standing at full mast. Still, we forged ahead.

I sat patiently while he tried to unhook my bra, boredly watching the terrible movie in the background as he soldiered manfully toward defeating the two clasps containing the bounty of my bosom while insisting he didn’t need my help. It took about five minutes.

That out of the way we made out some more. Then DB pulled out his pièce de résistance. A condom. This was a big get for him. His family, unlike mine, were horribly conservative and of the opinion that marriage was worth waiting for. So his opportunity to secure this vital piece of equipment had been slim.

In fact, it had been so slim, that what he pulled out was an:

Unlubricated

Glow in the dark

Novelty condom

From a vending machine

At the bowling alley.

I wasn’t terribly enthused about any of those qualifiers, but I held my tongue.

Then came the worst part. DB couldn’t admit that the stress of performance had unmanned him. He continued to pretend his wobbly erection could facilitate the rigorous activity of putting on a condom. He attempted to force the dry clinging rubber down his dick as it softened like pudding under his fumbling hands.

I butted in and made with more kissing, certain that seeing me naked had been such a let down that he was going limp because of me. Surely the sight of my boobies should have been enough! Because they weren’t, I was convinced he wasn’t really into this deflowering at all.

It didn’t help that my enthusiasm for this activity was fueled purely by teen hormones rather than actual sexual attraction. Perhaps he felt the same. It was one thing to watch his penis with clinical curiosity but another to think that my young boobs didn’t excite the same lust I felt toward boobs.

Nevertheless. The condom was more or less on. With momentous energy he tried to jam our anatomy together and rolled a critical failure. His penis lost all rigidity and oozed away from insertion.

Panicking and embarrassed he exclaimed, “I think I put this on wrong!”

To my horror he began trying to remove the condom and put it back on the other way. Health instructors of ages past screamed in my head that the condom had now been stretched and unrolled.

Trying to jam it back on was certainly not safe, especially given the slackness of the anatomy in question. It would certainly tear- if he could even get it back on.

I broke out in a sweat watching him attempt the magic trick of convincing a flaccid penis that it really wanted to get better acquainted with a desiccated rubber tube prison.

“I just remembered!” I exclaimed.

He looked up at me, wretched with despair.

“I promised my parents I wouldn’t have sex tonight. I just remembered! Sorry!”

This could go down in history as one of the most bold faced and terrible lies ever told, a blatant falsehood on par with declaring the sky was green. But his face broke out in a terrible relief.

He disposed of the abused condom and I resecured my bra and we resumed watching the horrible movie, both of us relieved in our own way to set down the burden of Losing Virginity.

The next day I broke up with him.

This remains to this day one of the most savage things I’ve ever done, breaking up with someone the night after impotence.

But remember, dear reader! It wasn’t just the sex! His depression had already worn away my patience and our communication. The foibles of the night before had just illuminated the gaps where we couldn’t talk to each other properly. I was constantly comforting him over something, shoring up his brain chemistry with my relentless positivity.

I’d like to say that’s all it was, and look more charitably on my young self. But truthfully my tender pride had also been badly stung that I wasn’t worth rising to the occasion for. Comforting him over this latest mishap when my feelings were hurt was more than I could swallow.

DB took the breakup very poorly. About two weeks later he lost his virginity with the new girl he was dating. He called me to brag, sniffing through the airwaves for hints that he’d hurt me back.

When I congratulated him with utter sincerity and not a whiff of jealousy he was furious.

We stopped speaking for years, except on our mutual birthday when we’d wish each other a cordial “Happy birthday.”

He messaged me out of the blue one day years later to catch up. He was working in food service now. Was it true I was a lesbian? Yes, I assured him, that was true. He thought that was pretty cool.

Then he told me about this bisexual girl he worked with who was interested in a threesome. Did I want to have a threesome with him and his bisexual coworker?

The audacity. I couldn’t believe it. My mind filled with savage retorts like, if you understand I’m a lesbian why do you think I’d want you to be part of that? Why wouldn’t I just sleep with her without you?

But I remembered the utterly ruthless way I’d dumped him and as penance I swallowed all of the things I wanted to say and instead politely told him I was seeing someone, but thanks for the offer.

And that was it. He’d managed to shoot his shot not once, not twice, but three times, and never managed a home run. He struck out that last time, and we never spoke again.

[rocknrollbabe14]

Rock A Bye Professor

Part Five

Rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Warnings: Direct mentions of sex, sexual acts, birth control, missed period, nausea, vomiting, pregnancy. Professor/Student trope at college level. Both consenting adults. Don't like it, don't read. Thank you!

His eyes were glued on you, afraid of what was to follow. His mind was racing a million miles a minute trying to think of what you were going to tell him. Did you have some crazy ex husband? A child back home? His mind instantly went to the worst. He gave you a look as if to tell you to continue. 

“Um—I—well,”, you stumbled over your words, laughing nervously and finding with your fingers before finally gaining the strength to continue. “Um, I don’t have parents. My dad left when I was born and my mom—she died from an overdose when I was two.”

Joe wore a surprised expression as you began to cry softly.

“I should have told you—my grandma raised me until I was twelve and then she passed so I was left to bounce around in the foster system for a while.”

“Love.”, he breathed, empathy clear in his voice. 

“And I get if you’re mad at me. But I have no family at home. I lied to you.”

You were becoming hysterical. 

“Love.”

Joe grabbed your hand, instantly pulling you towards him. He let you cry on him while he brushed through your hair. He hated it when you cried. It killed him.

"I’ve lied to you. How can we be together when I lied?”

“Shhh, calm down, baby.”, he soothed. 

“I can’t—I need to go.”

“No, you don’t. Just let me hold you and just breathe, baby.”

He let you cry against him as he held you in his arms. 

“I’m sorry.”, was all you managed to repeat over and over. 

“Love, calm down, please. You don’t need to get stressed out—it’s not good for you or the baby.”, he held the back of your head as you laid on his chest. 

“I’m a shit girlfriend.”

“You are not. Look at me.”, he breathed as he pulled you back, his hands on your shoulders as he stared you in the eyes. 

It was hard for you to make eye contact with him, feeling like a complete failure. But you forced yourself to look up at him even with tears running down your cheeks. 

“It doesn’t matter that there’s no one for you back “home”. This is your home now—as soon as graduation happens, you’re moving in, okay? Me and the baby—our baby girl Sophie, we’re your family now.”

You eyed him as he wiped the tear away that was sliding down your cheek before a small smile came across his face. 

“Alright, love?”

“Okay.”

“I love you and our baby more than anything in this world. I left my family to move here and pursue a teaching career. You and the baby—our Sophie, you all are my everything.”

“I love you too, Joe. Are you sure you forgive me?”

“Love, it’s hard to tell someone that.”

“It just made me feel like—I wasn’t loved. I went through years of counseling and stuff and I—”, you choked up, trying to clear your throat and regain your composure. “I just don’t ever want our baby girl to feel like that.”

“She’s never going to feel like that, love. She’s going to have a mommy who loves her very much and has done everything right to nurture her and bring her into the world safely and then her daddy loves her very much also. I don’t want to live a day without you all.”

He placed his hand on your bump, rubbing it easily. You looked up at him easily. He was so forgiving, he was the best boyfriend and he was going to make an amazing daddy. 

“I love you, Joe.”, you sniffled softly.

He smiled, wiping another tear away. “I love you too. Now give me a kiss and let’s cuddle. No more crying.”, he playfully pouted. 

You leaned in as you both shared another soft and slow kiss. It was passionate, you both taking the time to deepen the kiss. He smiled through the kiss, making sure to wipe any remainder of the tears off your face. You all pulled away, breaking the kiss softly. He chuckled, clearly giddy. He grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers in between yours. 

“Let’s be happy about our baby girl.”, he smiled as he rubbed your shoulder with his free hand.

“Let’s be happy about our baby girl.”, you repeated as you both leaned in and touched noses. 

___________________________________________________________________________

Another month came and went, leaving you almost seven months pregnant. It was even harder to hide, your bump harder to contain. You had been at college late, studying, and grabbed some dinner with Tori. She was having a hard time dealing with you being away from the dorm especially since she was the first friend you made. You didn’t have a lot of stability in your life when you first came to college—before the baby and Joe. 

Joe had texted earlier in the day to let you know he was heading home after class and he would be back to pick you up in a more discreet location. He hated that you all had to hide your relationship he reminded you often that he wanted to shout it from the rooftops but you both knew right now that wasn’t possible. You didn’t want him to lose his job or be reprimanded or you get thrown out of college. 

Once you were finished at college for the night, you texted Joe. But your message was left on delivered. That was weird and unlike him. Your face crinkled in confusion as thirty minutes had gone by and there was no response. Maybe he had fallen asleep. He never took naps where he stayed so busy. He had been busy being a professor and now with you and the baby. You decided you would try and call him. Your hands started to shake as you hit his contact information.

Putting your phone to your ear, it began to ring. You waited for what felt like forever but there was no answer, your cell phone going straight to voicemail. Your heart immediately dropped into your stomach, and worry began to set in. Something had to be wrong. Maybe he had been under too much stress. It was your fault. Or at least you felt like it was. Not wasting any more time, you decided to get an Uber and go to his house. Something was wrong—very wrong. 

Arriving at Joe’s house—you immediately noticed something was off. There was a car in the driveway that you didn’t recognize. Were his parents here? Had he told them everything and they hated you so he decided he wasn’t going to talk to you anymore? No, he wouldn’t do that. Would he? You wanted to believe he wouldn’t but there was always the voice in the back of your head that told you he would. Everyone else did. Your own parents didn’t even want you or care about you enough to get rid of the drugs. 

You thanked the driver as you got out, carefully walking up the front porch. This was supposed to be your home too. You were supposed to feel safe and secure but at this moment you didn’t. You felt like you didn’t belong here. Your brain was torn on whether to use your key or ring the doorbell first. Would it be rude to let yourself in the house? Yes, especially if his parents were there. You decided to ring the doorbell with trembling hands. It could be heard muffled inside the walls of the house. 

You looked around the porch awkwardly while you waited but there was no answer. You rang it again, waiting another few moments. No answer. You sighed beginning to knock. Maybe he was really done with you. Maybe his parents ended up hating you and he was done. No answer again but there were lights on in the house. It was a last resort when you decided to use the key Joe had given you. Sliding it in the lock and turning it, you dreaded what may lay ahead of you on the other side of the door. 

You unlocked the door quietly and stepped inside the house. You could hear talking as you quietly hug up your jacket. 

“Hey babe I’m home.”, your voice started out happy but slid down to sound sad.

The voices ceased causing you to panic slightly. You smiled weakly as you came around the counter to see Joe standing there with another young woman. He was leaning on the counter, looking exhausted. She was dressed to the nines. Your stomach dropped and you felt tears swelling up in your eyes but you attempted to blink them back. 

“Y/N—this isn’t what it looks like.”, Joe’s brown eyes looked sad.

Maybe he was just a good actor. 

“Oh? This is that little pregnant whore of yours.”, the woman spoke, her accent thick.

She wasn’t from here that was clear. 

“Don’t call her that.”, Joe glared over at her, defending you. 

“You’re not even engaged and she’s pregnant with your child.”, the woman countered.

This was already proving too much for you. You could feel yourself nearing tears and it would be minutes before you completely broke down and you didn’t want to be around when that happened. You couldn’t believe that he would do this to you—especially not while you were carrying his child. 

“I’ve gotta go.”, you breathed, feeling tears well up in your eyes. 

“Y/N—please don’t go.”, Joe spoke out loudly.

“Just leave me alone, Joe. Please.”, you could barely speak above a whisper. 

“Y/N—don’t go. Please. It’s not what it looks like.”

“Just let her go, Joe. It makes things easier for us.”

You didn’t look back at him as you grabbed your coat, feeling the hot tears beginning to slide down your cheeks. You didn’t want them to see you wipe them away, you didn’t want them to know you were crying. You slid your coat on and went outside in the cool air, feeling it instantly nip your tear-stained cheeks. You walked down his steps quickly and got on the sidewalk. It hurt even worse that he didn’t chase after you, causing you to cry even harder. You knew this wasn’t good for your baby girl but you couldn’t help it. 

She was moving—you could feel her. You rubbed your bump softly as you continued to walk down the street. Your dorm wasn’t super far from here. You’d go back—you knew you’d always have a place there. You would just have to try to find an apartment soon and prepare to bring your baby girl into this world alone. You didn’t need Joe. All you needed was your baby girl. You’d get a good job and get an apartment, a car, and the baby’s things. It would be hard but you knew you could do it. But you wouldn’t lie—the thought stressed you out. You were seven months pregnant and were close to delivering in just two months. 

You guessed you would be doing that alone too. A lot of women gave birth alone—you wouldn’t be the first and you wouldn’t be the last. It would be mentally, emotionally, and physically draining but once you held her in your arms you wouldn’t be alone anymore. She’d be your everything and you could give all your love to her even if she was part of Joe. That wasn’t her fault and didn’t make you love your baby any less. You tried to wipe the tears away but they came back almost just as fast. 

Rubbing your bump softly and walking until your feet were beginning to hurt in your shoes, you finally arrived at the dorm. You slipped inside and took the elevator, arriving at the door of your dorm in minutes. You knocked on the door softly, hoping Tori was there. It took her just a few seconds before she opened the door. 

“Y/N.”

“Hey Tori—sorry I didn’t call—”

“It’s fine. Is everything okay?”

“Not really.”, you admitted. “Me and the baby’s dad are having some trouble.”

“Your boyfriend that I still haven’t met?”

“Yeah. I think he cheated on me. I’m sorry I haven’t been here much but can I come back here and stay for a while?”

Tori’s eyes widened in surprise. “You think he’s cheating on you?”

You nodded softly, more tears beginning to slide down your cheeks.

“Get in here. Did you walk here all by yourself?”, she questioned as she pulled you inside and closed the door. 

You nodded.

“Y/N.”, she sighed. “You don’t need to be walking all alone at night—especially being pregnant. How far along are you now? You don’t have much longer, do you?”

“Seven months—no, she’ll be here soon.”, you swallowed hard as Tori sat you down on the couch. She went over and began to make you some hot chocolate. 

“She? Aw, that’s amazing. I bet you’re over the moon.”, Tori spoke as she put the water in the microwave, setting the timer. 

“I am.”, you swallowed, your mind instantly remembering how happy Joe was that you were having a baby girl. 

You were confused as to what had changed. 

“I’m gonna get you some pajamas. You still have some in your room, right?”

“They probably don’t fit. All my maternity stuff is at his place.”, you sighed as you slid your coat off and leaned back against the couch, rubbing your belly. 

“We’ll try them. I have bigger t-shirts.”, she spoke as she went off to your room and hers, the microwave going off. 

You got up easily and went into the kitchen, mixing the packet of hot chocolate into the cup as she came in with pajamas. 

“Y/N, you need to relax and get off your feet.”, she eyed you.

“I’m pregnant, Tori. Not helpless.”, you sighed as she shooed you out of the way and handed you the pajamas. 

“Go change. Hopefully, they’ll work for tonight and tomorrow we can go to Goodwill or something and find you some more maternity clothes. Fuck that guy.”

You sighed softly, nodding as you felt your chest swell up as you fought back tears. Going off to the bathroom, you slid your clothes off and laid your phone on the countertop. You couldn’t look at yourself in the mirror. As you slid the pajama pants up your legs, you began to hear your phone buzz, almost vibrating off the counter. It was Joe. You instantly declined the call and put your phone on Do Not Disturb. The pants fell right under your bump before you slid Tori’s t-shirt on and it barely covered your bump but you were just thankful that your belly wasn’t showing. 

Grabbing your phone off the counter, you came out of the bathroom to find Tori waiting for you with the hot chocolate.

“What are you in the mood to eat? I’ll go out and get dinner and a movie while you stay here, relax, and warm up.”, she handed you the cup easily. 

“I’m not super hungry.”, you admitted as you sat down on the couch, rubbing your bump as you took a small sip of your hot chocolate. 

She rolled her eyes. “You need to eat, Y/N. You’re eating for two.”

“Fine.”, you relented. “Um, maybe Chinese or pizza.”

“Do you want both?”, Tori laughed.

“Does that make me fat?”

“No—you’re pregnant.”

You both laughed lightly, the first time you had laughed this entire evening. You smiled softly as you rubbed your bump. Your baby girl would be your reason to continue on and achieve what you needed to do. Tori grabbed her keys and cell phone.

“I’ll be back. Take a nap, watch TV, relax.”

“Thanks, Tori.”

The door closed gently as you raised yourself off the couch to go lock it. You didn’t think anyone would attempt to get in but you didn’t know for sure. You relaxed for a few minutes after settling down and beginning to watch television and at some point, you must have dozed off for a few minutes. A knock came to the door of your dorm, you innocently believed it was Tori. But as you became more conscious, you realized that Tori had a key. There was only one other person it could be.

You got off the couch and went to the door, looking through the peephole. There was Joe standing there, visibly upset in his black peacoat. Beginning to feel your blood pressure rise, you opened the door.

“Joe, what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Y/N, please listen to me.”, he sniffled. You could tell he had been crying.

“You can get us both in trouble.”, you hissed. “You’re not even supposed to be here.” 

“I know, I know. But love makes you do stupid things.”, Joe sighed. “And I can’t go to bed without you tonight. Please don’t make me.”

“Joe, we’re not doing this. I’m not coming back home with you. I can raise our baby without you, you know.”, you looked down at what you could see of your feet which was mostly the floor now that you were as pregnant as you were. 

Joe eyed you, tears beginning to pool in his brown eyes. “Y/N, please. If you hate me, don’t keep my baby girl from me, please.”

“You should have thought about that before you had your ex-girlfriend over at your house. What the fuck were you thinking? You know what, it doesn’t matter. Just please go, Joe. Please just leave.”, your voice cracked as you tried to close the door. 

You were trying to hold tears back and to keep from letting him see you so weak. 

Joe grabbed the door gently, keeping it open. “Y/N, please. Just give me ten minutes. Please.”

Your brain was fighting your heart, telling you to not give him the time of day. He had already taken enough from you and given you more than you asked for….you were seven months pregnant with his baby. But you sighed softly before opening the door further.

“Get in here before someone fucking sees you. But ten minutes and that’s it.”

Joe nodded before hurrying inside, closing the door behind you both and softly locking it. You went into the kitchen, still visible from the living room. You were scoping out what Tori had to eat in the meantime, already feeling hungry again. This baby was keeping you on your toes. 

“Hungry?”, Joe asked.

You turned your head to glare at him. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does. It’s only been a couple of hours and I miss you like crazy. All I can think about is you and our baby, how you’re feeling if you’re okay—it’s already driving me mad.”

“Why do you care?”, you snapped instantly, sometimes unable to control your hormones. “You didn’t care when your ex was in your house and you were ignoring my phone calls and text messages.”

This was killing Joe whether you realized it or not. This was driving him mad. 

“Y/N, it wasn’t what you thought.”

“That’s what they all fucking say.”, you rolled your eyes as you found some chips, beginning to open them and eat them but also realizing you needed something to drink.

“Y/N.”, Joe sighed, coming towards the kitchen but when you glared at him again, it made him stop in his tracks. 

“Joe, this is exhausting. Please just leave me and the baby alone. I might change my mind when she’s born and let you see her but right now I don’t even want to see your face.”, you sighed.

Your words hurt Joe, instantly felt a pang in his chest. He looked down at the floor in an attempt to keep himself from crying. He shoved his hands in his pockets, something you noticed he did when he was nervous or trying to deal with something. You softly chewed a few potato chips, taking a drink before you heard him sniffle lightly. Part of you regretted saying the last bit, knowing you probably hit him where it hurt. 

He nodded softly. “Is that really want you to want?”

His voice was fragile and it was clear he was on the verge of tears. 

You sighed. “This is just too much for me, Joe.”

“I love you, Y/N. I love you and our baby girl more than anything in this world.”, Joe choked. 

All of a sudden, you felt your baby girl kick you. She didn’t stop there, beginning to move like crazy. You laid down your bag of potato chips, making a face as you rubbed your belly. Joe noticed, his face crinkling instantly in concern.

“Is something wrong?”

You waved him off. “It’s nothing.”

“Tell me. Are you having contractions? Is the pain different?”

“Just give me a second.”, your voice was harsher. 

Joe came closer and he didn’t care if you gave him a look from hell or not. 

TO BE CONTINUED........

Tag List: @usererics @munsonluvrr @ali-r3n @silky-luxe @fantastic-f0x

[ilovefakemilitarymen]

Deal with the Devil

~Professor!John Price x Student!Reader (Part Two)

____________________________

Read Part One Here: x

Requests are currently open!

Word Count: ~3.6K

CW: Minors Do Not Interact, NSFW, Smut, Inappropriate Teacher/Student Relationships, Sexual Tension, Praise Kink, Name Calling (good girl, sweetheart), not really much aftercare, AFAB Reader, She/Her Pronouns, Face Fucking, Fingering.

When you finally make it to class, Price is nowhere to be seen. You were a few minutes early, hoping to be as pointed as he usually is, trying to see if there was anything else he needed for the day. A few other students file into class behind you and you take your usual place, sitting in the front row. There aren't many students that actually show up to his class anymore, most of them just take the failure on their transcript or drop the class altogether.

You’d like to think that Price had respected your determination, and that's why he had agreed to the extra credit in the first place.

You’re half-buried in your textbook when he finally walks in, coffee in hand. He offers you a simple smile, as well as the rest of the students. He always extends kindness to his students, so you don’t expect special treatment, however, it still comes.

“Sleep well?” He finally looks over to you, talking low as he sits his bag against his desk. It takes you off guard slightly. You only give him a small nod, your eyes following his face, and he moves to sit at the edge of his desk.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” The question seems to fall on deaf ears as no one replies to him, but despite that, he begins his lecture anyway.

You fall into staring at him, watching as he moves back and forth in front of the whiteboard, jotting down terms and dates. You can’t get yourself to focus on a single one with how his pants hug his thighs nicely, nearly busting out of the seams with one small misstep. You watch as he moves, eyes taking in every inch of the man. Somewhere in the depths of your mind, you had wished he would have just asked to fuck you in return for extra credit. He just exudes the kind of energy of a man that’s good in bed.

When your eyes finally move to his face, he’s watching you. He gives you a small smirk, and you can barely hide the flush at being caught. He probably knows about your not-so-little infatuation with him and the fact that he didn’t take advantage of it directly when you had asked for extra credit just made him so much more attractive to you. You try your best to focus on your notes, swearing to deny anything he says to you about the staring.

Finally, he begins to wipe away the information on the whiteboard, clearing his throat and you realize that you’ve spent well over forty-five minutes just drinking him in. You curse to yourself, another class directly down the drain, and swear to yourself that you’ll read and re-read the chapter he had gone over several times before you go to sleep tonight.

“Enjoy the rest of your day,” He finally speaks to the class, and you hang back as the others leave. The lump in your throat forms at being caught staring at him multiple times. You need to tell him about his meeting, the damn meeting.

When he finally does speak up to you, you had fully expected to be called out, but he leaves it in the air between the two of you, focusing on your agreement instead, “What does the rest of my day look like?” He finally looks over to you, dusting his hands off and leaning against the front of his desk.

You cough, trying to collect your composure and glancing at the clock, “You have a meeting in about an hour.” When you finally speak it sounds rehearsed, and you know he catches on. He’s a smart man, a very smart man. You know you look absolutely ridiculous to him right now.

“Right, I almost forgot about that one,” He nods as he keeps talking, his gaze moving to the clock, “I’m gonna need you to come with me to that…to take some notes.” His eyes move back to you to gauge your reaction. His eyes were stern and you give him a nod before looking down at your clothes.

You don’t look bad by any means, but jeans and a tee shirt is definitely not business attire, “Should I go change? This is hardly professional.” You speak, unsure of your words but he just gives you a small laugh.

“It’s nothing important, just meeting with a couple of colleagues. You look fine. I just need you there to keep me on track.” You watch him, arms crossed against his chest and you give him a small smile as you nod to him.

“I can do that.”

“I’m sure you can,” He smirks at his words before he jerks his head towards the door, signaling you to follow him and you hurriedly grab your things and make your way out.

You pick up the pace, trying to settle into a good stride right beside him. It was a nice stroll through the grounds, but the weather was poor, so many of the students could be found hiding away in their respective dorms. Some part of you was happy about that; not wanting to explain why you were with the professor.

It doesn’t take long until he shuffles you into a small conference room and all eyes are on you, and you wonder what they think of you. Teacher’s Pet. New Teacher’s Assistant. You just hope they all assume you’d signed up to be his TA. He takes a seat among his colleagues, and you have to admit, he lives up to the drill sergeant comment that the other student had made. He commands a room like no other.

You sit silently as the meeting starts, jotting down things that seem important. There’s a comment about another meeting and you write that in the margins of his planner, keeping it in the forefront of your brain, needing to put it in your own so you don’t forget to remind him about it.

It goes on without a hitch, but, with the slight smell of coffee and tobacco, Price leans in to whisper in your ear, “Jot that down,” and his hand taps on the notebook you had splayed in front of you. You try to hide the way your breath gets caught in your throat, but you know he’s way too close to ignore it. You keep your eyes on the notebook, but with all honesty, you don’t even know what to write down, all the thoughts in your head blocking out what the other men say in favor of pulling the feeling of his breath on your ear to the forefront of your mind.

You’re sure he can hear your heartbeat from here and you move your hand up to chew at your nails, trying to conceal the slight flush on your cheeks. It does no good, and you can only silently thank any god that would listen that nobody else has eyes on you.

Nobody else but him.

Your hands are shaking when you try to write down the next thing being said, and it’s honestly no use but you try anyway.

“You’re doing good,” His words are quiet as they filter into your ears, and this time, your eyes shoot over to look at him, and he, surprisingly, looks slightly proud of himself. The praise is what finally breaks you, and you know he knows it.

You pull your eyes away from him, readjusting yourself in your seat and trying your best to pretend to be okay. Pretend like his words weren’t setting you on fire in the seat and tearing you apart.

The meeting finally comes to a close and you quickly shut the notebook and planner, shoving it into your bag and Price is waiting for you at the door when you finally gather your things. There’s a wet heat between your legs and you silently curse yourself for letting him rile you up so much.

He’s doing it on purpose. You’re not for sure, but the proud look on his face says it all.

The walk back to his office is silent, too silent, and you stray slightly behind him as you try to keep his eyes off of you as much as possible.

Your mind is stuck on the feeling of his breath and the way it had fanned against your face, tickling your throat. It sticks a lump there that you can’t swallow down.

When Professor Price finally unlocks the door to his office, he finally speaks, “You seem a little quiet, is there something on your mind?” He doesn’t look at you as he speaks, only opening the door and you follow him inside.

The room is dimly lit, yellow light from the small lamp in the corner resting on the both of you.

“Yeah, but I got some good notes for you.” You feign ignorance.

You know what he’s talking about, but the embarrassment keeps the words you want to say to him from coming out. You don’t let him know that you would much rather him push you up against the wall and fuck you right there. You don’t tell him you want to feel his fingers wrap around your throat.

You don’t tell him because he probably knows.

You feel like a wild animal backed into a corner.

In the small room, just you and him, and you didn’t see that he had clicked the lock on your way in.

“You know, Ms. (l/n),” Price finally speaks again, and your hands shake at your sides, “I’m not a stupid man.” He leans against the heavy wood desk when he finally speaks again, and this is it. This is when he finally fails you. “Did I distract you?” His words are heavy when they finally leave his lips.

“Maybe,” It’s the only thing you can get to leave your lips, and you curse yourself for not being more confident. His gaze tears you down, opening you up for him to see all the attraction. The need for him evident on your features.

“How would you feel if I told you that you’re distracting to me as well,” His words are low, just between the two of you despite being the only ones in the room, “When you stare at me the way you do, can barely get through a lecture with your eyes on me.”

You stay silent, words unable to form in your throat, but he finally continues, “Won’t you be a good girl for me and get on your knees? I’ll show you how much you distract me.”

With that, the dam finally breaks.

“Yes sir,” You barely get the words out and your bag is all but thrown to the floor, resting against the wall, and your eyes stay on his face when you move, knees bending, sending a jolt through you when they finally hit the ground in front of him.

He looks so good in this lighting, and your hands shake as they reach for the front of his pants.

His own hands catch yours before they finally reach him, stilling you and you look back up to his face. There’s a slight worry etched across his features when he speaks, “You can tell me no, sweetheart,” His words take you off guard, “You say the word and you can leave and I’ll still give you the extra credit.”

Somehow, the fact that he wanted to make sure this was a mutual thing only makes you more turned on. You nod to him, trying to find your words, and they barely come out as a whisper to him, “I want to,” You speak and he nods, moving his hand away from your hands to press it against your chin. His thumb rubs sweetly at your cheek, tracing the outline of your lips as you look up at him, eyes staring wide into his.

“You’re such a good girl.” He speaks, thumb pulling your lip down and his hands and the praise almost has your mind in pieces. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, and you swear it almost pulls a whine out of you. His other hand moves to grab your stalled hands, still resting just before the waistband of his pants before he pulls them closer to him, pressing them against the button.

Your hands finally start moving again, unbuttoning his jeans. You pull down the zipper finally, the sound of it so loud in the small room. When you dip your hands into his underwear, his thumb presses into your lips and he swears, and you open your mouth for him, letting him rest his thumb against your tongue as you finally pull his cock out of his pants.

He feels heavy in your hand, your soft skin wrapped around his length and your eyes finally dart down, taking him all in before moving back to look at his eyes. His hand pulls you in, pulling you closer to him as you stroke him a few times, finally moving to press a small kiss against the tip, and his hand moves to brush a piece of your hair behind your ear before it rests on the top of your head.

He grunts when you finally take him into your mouth, the soft, wet heat pulling him in as your eyes watch his face. “Fuck,” the curse filters into the silent room, and he runs an encouraging hand through your hair. The musky smell of him filling your nose and only pushing you further down onto him. You pull back, letting him out of your mouth with a small pop before you move your hand and try to take him all into your mouth.

“That’s it, such a good girl for me…” His words are darker now, dripping from his tongue seductively and you start bobbing your head, his hand moving to thread into your hair before he moves it to pet your face. It’s intoxicating, his encouragement, the light touches, and you can’t help but whine with him in your mouth, legs rubbing together to search for some kind of relief.

His eyes close and his hand is resting on your chin now, cupping your face as you move, a light groan pushing itself past his lips. “That feels so good, sweetheart, you’re doing so good.” His praise is the only thing in your mind, urging you forward as you attempt to take all of him into your mouth. Your hands move to rest against his hips as his hand moves to grip the hair at the back of your head. Your nose pushes into him, and you gag around him before moving back and his hips move of his own accord, thrusting lightly into your mouth.

The tip hits the back of your throat, pulling a gag out of your mouth. You’re heavily out of practice, but you can’t help the way your hands pull at him, practically begging him to thrust back into your mouth, to use it however he needs to get off. It sends a shiver down your spine, the way his eyes go dark before he thrusts into your mouth again, hand tightening on the strands of hair he’s pulled into his grip. You moan as the tip presses heavy into the back of your throat and he snaps his hips back before plunging himself back into your mouth.

“You’re doing so good,” His words fall out of his mouth like honey as his hips thrust his cock deeper into your lips, and you finally pull one of your hands from his hips to unbutton your own jeans and push your own fingers into your wet heat and he practically growls as he watches you. “That pretty mouth of yours, taking me so well.”

You hold your gags back as he uses your mouth, his pants hitting hard against your chin, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. He could tear you apart and you would just thank him for it afterwards. You moan as he continues fucking into your mouth, the vibrations running along his cock and he lets out a moan. You rub at yourself lightly, the wet sounds your mouth is making only pushing you closer to your own release. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, but it’s so fucking good that you don’t want him to stop.

“You’re gonna swallow it all, yeah?” His voice is husky when it leaves his mouth, hips faltering in his thrusts and you try your best to give him a nod, but the heavy hand holding your hair only allows for you to barely do so.

His hips stutter as praises fall from his lips, along with a low growl and you can feel when his pleasure finally comes to a peak and he releases into your mouth.

After a few moments, his hand comes to rest on your chin again, pulling you off of him and opening your mouth so he can look at the mess he had made against your tongue. You look at him through your lashes as you close your mouth and make a show of swallowing him down, and you finally speak, your voice coming out whiny and rough from the way he had abused your mouth, “Touch me, please, touch me, sir.” You lean back against your calves, hand against the floor, making a show of touching yourself.

He’s on the floor with you in record time, sitting on his knees and you can barely move your hand before his own is slipping into your pants, rubbing at your clit before he slips two fingers into you. He watches the way your face contorts as a moan escapes your lips at the stretch. “I think you’ve earned some attention, haven’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” Your words break as they leave your mouth, a heavy moan following them out as he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing hard against the spot that feels so fucking good that it has you falling apart. His palm presses against your clit as he continues to pull out of you and push back in.

“So wet for me…” His words send a shiver down you, and you whine, your hand moving to grip his arm as the pleasure takes over your entire form. “You like that, don’t you? Love my fingers in you.”

“Fuckin’ love it,” Your words mix with his before he can even get them out of his mouth, and your brain is mush, mumbling incoherent sounds as your other arm gives out as you lay back on the floor, letting him have his way with you, fingers pushed deep in your cunt.

“You look so pretty like that, all fucked out and I haven’t even fucked you yet,” His words are low, barely there, but they push you closer to your release. It’s nearly embarrassing how he has you laid out on his office floor, rough fingers fucking into you and his palm pushing you further and further, but you don’t care, would let him do it as much as he damn well pleases, using you however he wants.

Pleas and chants fall from your lips when you finally tumble over the edge with him whispering praises of how good of a girl you are for him, and your back nearly arches off of the ground when he speaks, “That’s it, fuck,” And his other hand moves to your face, wiping your hair out of your face as he pumps his fingers into you through your release.

He finally pulls his hands out of your pants, bringing fingers up to his mouth to taste you, and it only causes you to whine as you come down from your high. His hand is heavy on your cheek, thumb rubbing sweetly before he finally stands up, fixing himself in his pants.

There’s just something about being on the floor under him, watching as he fixes himself as if nothing had happened between you as you’re thoroughly spent under him. You pull yourself up onto your elbows, using them to move back to your knees and he leans over to you, hand finding its way back to your face, caressing the skin of your cheek before he speaks, “Clean yourself up, beautiful, and get back to your studies.” His words are back to normal and your eyes roam over his face. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” A small smirk plays on his lips as he moves to sit at his desk, watching as you fix yourself.

There’s a slight satisfied grin on his face as he watches you and you move over to your bag to pull out a hair tie to pull your hair up, forgoing even the attempt to try and get the tangles out of it before you pull it up into a bun to try to hide the mess as much as you can. You know your lips are swollen and the light layer of sweat against your skin is starting to dry disgustingly, but his eyes on you just make you feel like you're the most beautiful thing in the world.

You get up off the floor, moving to pull your bag over your shoulder and leave, but his hand catches your wrist, pulling you over to where he sits before he presses a small kiss to your lips. You hadn’t expected the tenderness out of him but it’s welcome, and you give him a small smile before you head for the door.

You think, just for a moment, that you’re gonna milk this agreement for as much enjoyment as possible.

[anzulvr]

୨୧ On Purpose Karma x (fem) Reader || Chapter: 04 ୨୧

Prev || 04 Oblivious || Next

— Since the entire student council was present and the library was notably crowded with students who had signed up for the lecture, [Name] entered the library on her own.

She felt guilty, having to ditch her plans with Karma after an unresolved argument they decided to brush over. To make matters worse, she has to sit through a two-hour session and watch Ren shamelessly flirt with every girl in the room. On the brighter side, this ordeal counted towards her volunteer hours.

"You're late. You missed my introductory speech."

"My fault, I'll make up for it by working extra hard!"

She mentally thanked Karma for convincing her take the longer route, saying, "It's not a big deal if you're 10 minutes late... or 30." It was impressive how Gakushuu's speeches managed to put her to sleep every time, missing it was a win in her book.

Koyama called him over, something about a broken printer and an angry librarian.

 ...aaand she was all alone again.  [Name] decided to go check on the group at the back table.

"Oh, [Name] made it—she can help us!" The first year, Chisa blissfully smiled.

"But I wanted Asano to help. [Name] could you please ask him to?" Chisa's friend insisted, clearly not as enthusiastic about the anyone-whose-not- Asano's arrival.

[Name] tried not to let it bother her, being the only girl in the student council came with a lot of pressure.

She’s just as helpful and capable as the rest of the group but no one seems to acknowledge it. Everyone calls them the “Big Five” even though there’s technically six of them as her scores tie with Seo.

"He's busy with Koyama, but maybe later."

The girl groaned and sulked laying her head on the table. Chisa looked apologetic for her friends dramatics. [Name] offered them a polite smile and said, "Let's get through your assignments then."

After half an hour of helping the girls turn in missing work, [Name] decided to take a short break. She left for an empty table in the very corner of the room, the short break turned into a long one when she got distracted texting Karma.

‧₊˚ Message Log ‧₊˚

[Name]: can we talk? im super bored!!

Karma: Whose fault is that?

Karma: should have ditched to be with me the whooleee day

[Name]: ugghhh don't. Can you believe I still have another hour of this 

[Name]: anyway what are you doing?

Karma: I bumped into Nagisa on my way back from the library

Karma: now were at Maehara's house with Rio and Fuwa.

[Name]: Rio?? That one beautiful, smart, sweet, blonde girl in your class?

Karma: Sounds like you like her alot.

[Name]: She makes me nervous

Karma: Hey that's how you used to talk about me before we went out

[Name]: I can hear the disappointment through the text lmaoo

‧₊˚ Message End ‧₊˚

"You haven't even been here for an hour and you’re already slacking off on your phone?"

"Gakushuu! Geez you came out of nowhere." [Name] shut her phone off and patted the seat next to her.

To her surprise he slumped down next to her instead of insulting her and walking off, like he usually does.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm exhausted to say the least. This was a stupid idea no one is making progress, well no one but Ren, he managed to pick up quite a few desperate ones today."

"That's not completely true, I helped Chisa and her friend turn their C's to A's. As much as I hate being here it's not useless. Useless was the Bakesale we tried last year where the cupcakes we sold tasted like horse crap. It was funny watching people pretend to love them and hold back the throw up because they came from you."

"Could of stopped at the first half, but thanks, I think. My father said I wasn't being organized enough, that this would be a failure on my half and an embarrassment on his."

"That's a little harsh, you're doing your best and you've done more than anyone else in the council. Ren's been giving out his number more than he's been lecturing, Seo has been in the bathroom for 20 minutes, Teppei has been stuck on the same group this entire time and to be honest Koyama is hard to look at. Im pretty sure I saw the girl he was teaching closing her eyes while he was talking."

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards.

"You're right I'll go yell at them in a few. It's not a big deal though, My father has said much worse."

"To be fair, I haven't exactly kept my promise either. Hard work turned into hiding in a corner to text my b- actually I should get back to work, actions speak louder than words!" [Name] stood up to leave. Asano grabbed her sleeve, it was impulsive and the immediateness of it made it all the more awkward."

"Uh, Asano? Is there something you still need?" She crinkled her eyebrows.

His cheeks became somewhat pink, [Name] thought he couldn’t have been blushing, maybe it was allergies.

“No, just don't get distracted on your phone again."

"Yeah Ive got it!" She waved him off and went back to work, 

Gakushuu sat there slightly conflicted with his thoughts and his feelings, He faulted the all nighter he pulled last night, sleep deprivation does negatively impact mind clarity. He decided he should get back to work too.

Meanwhile ☆ ༄

"Let me get this straight, instead of asking me like normal people the class collectively decided to stalk [Name] and I?"

"Pretty much... but I was against it the entire time!" Nagisa replied sheepishly, to his surprise Karma's response was a relaxed nod.

"You're acting weirdly cool about this."

It sent a shiver down his spine, in a weird way Karma was scarier when he didn't react. Not knowing what he's thinking was an uncomfortable feeling.

"It's not a big deal- unless you guys tell people, that's when things will leak."

Fuwa's voice highers a few octaves in concern "What things?!" 

"Telling you would ruin the surprise wouldn’t it?”

Maehara, reckless as always chimes in “I wanted to go and see [Name] but I couldn't. We were almost a thing before you stole her ya know?"

Nagisa, being the good friend he is, rushes in to save him "That's not it at all! Isogai told us she rejected him a bunch of times since he's a womanizer!"

"I'm not a womanizer, I'm smooth."

"Smooth is the surface of the floor you'll be on when I knock your sorry ass out."

Maehara quickly moves behind Rio who changes the subject with a flood of questions;

"How long have you been dating? Why would anyone go out with you? Did you scare her into saying yes?"

"I’ll tell you if you buy me soba. Better question is: Why wouldn't someone go out with me? I’m tall, handsome, smart, charismatic… and I have a sick spice collection.”

“Im also all of those things.” Maehara jokes, cautiously this time, using Rio as a human shield.