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#like I'm only 18 I should be working a shitty job the idea of a salary paying job with the same schedule week by week is intimidating
milo-is-rambling · 1 year
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I get happy and excited thinking about working at the library but the idea of having the same schedule every day every week for years is actually nerve wracking to me
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coveredinsweetpea · 9 months
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A/n: I let the whore out for this one 🤭 and I'm not even ashamed? I wanted to make it more filthy but I decided to not push it 😬 but lemme know if you liked this one!!! I'd love to write more!! Summary: just the story of perv!bouncer!Eddie x dumb!ice-cream vendor!reader and the little white lie he used in order to get you where he wanted you. (KINKY) 4.6k Warnings: so first off, perv!Eddie (he's a bit of a meanie) and dumb!reader, ok? He takes advantage of you, oopsie. Humiliation, degradation, lying and gaslighting, pet names, groping, very strong D/s vibes although not established, spit kink, a hint of dubcon? (only if you squint). Needless to say, 18+!! (also I wrote this in one go don't @ me if it's shitty)
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You shouldn't have worn heels - it was late at night, you were running late and while the rain had stopped, the mud still managed to splash its way up to your ankles. And come to think of it, the skirt hadn’t been that good of an idea either, not for the metal concert you were attending at least, but you were two blocks away and it was too late to turn back now.
Before entering the venue, you stopped at the corner, fixed your hair and your shoes with a napkin you found around your purse, and prayed to the gods that even though the concert should have already started, the bouncer would still be there to give you a ticket and allow you inside.
“Eddie!” you exclaimed relieved. He was just about to stand up from his little booth when you burst inside the building, and his eyes widened when he realized who you were.
While it truly hadn’t been that long since you last saw each other, it surely felt like it. The last time you saw him was at his graduation, one week after you finished junior year. Currently, almost two years had passed since you yourself were done with school.
“Y/n, wow. I haven’t seen you in ages, how are you?”
“Good, good, I’m good” you huffed, getting ready to fish the money for the ticket out of your purse. “You work here?”
“Yeah. I’m a bartender but something came up and our guy had to leave for a bit. I’m just covering for him.”
“Oh, ok. Cool”
“Did you come for the concert? It’s about to start”
“Yeah, mhm. I know I’m a bit late.” you said, picking out the dollars out of your purse one by one. When you decided your bag should be cute and fit your outfit rather than actually be useful, you didn’t imagine you’d have to embarrass yourself like this. “Here’s 7 dollars-” you mumbled handing him the money, “Wait, I have three more, just give me a second”
“Y/n…” Eddie said as he hesitated to take it from you. “It’s 30 dollars.”
“30 what?” you gasped. “I thought it was 10”
“It was 10, until like an hour ago. You should’ve bought it in advance, tickets are always more expensive at the door”
“You must be kidding me” you cried, “I can’t pay 30$ for a concert of a band I barely even heard about”
“Then don’t” Eddie chuckled, “It’s not that big of a deal, it’s only going to last one hour tops”
“Yeah but my friend likes the vocalist. I promised her I’d be there”
“Then pay?”
Instead of going back to explaining why you really didn’t feel like doing that, you straightened your back and grinned. “Eddie…”
“I’m not interested," he laughed in a heartbeat, fully aware of the tactics you might want to try on him.
“Free ice cream for the whole month!” you belted, grabbing his shoulder to help you get your point across. “You know you can’t say no to that”
“I never even bought ice cream from your shop, Y/n, no”
“Two months!”
“Baby girl, buy the ticket or wait for the concert to end. I can’t just let you in”
“Yes, you can” you scoffed, stomping your foot against the floor. “Since when do you care about the rules?”
“Since my job is at stake, sweetheart”
“Who’s gonna know? Right, no one. So pleeeeease, Eddie! Pretty please with a tiny and sweet cherry on top?”
He was thinking about it, it was obvious the wheels were turning. His eyes traveled along the length of your body as he licked his lips, and that gave you hope. But unfortunately, when he looked back up into your eyes, he shook his head, “I’m sorry, I can’t”
“You can” you pouted, “You just don’t want to”
Eddie tapped his chin, “I guess that’s true. There’s nothing in it for me, so…”
“Asshole!” you giggled and hit his side. “Just tell me what you want, you got it”
“Anything I want?”
“Anything!”
“Anything, anything?” Eddie laughed.
“Just say it, you jerk”
But he didn’t really say it. What he did however was lean behind his little desk and then stand back up with a small camera in his hand. With one eyebrow raised, he motioned with his head to one of the small back rooms to the side, and that should’ve been your cue to at least try offering him ice cream again. 
"I can't believe I'm doing this" you nervously giggled as you placed your purse on one of the chairs you found laying around. More things crossed your mind while you took your jacket off but you kept quiet, only turning around to face Eddie when you were left in your tank top and skirt. "This is stupid. I'm being stupid, right?"
"It's just a little bit of fun" he smiled, moving the camera from one hand to the other. "You absolutely don't have to do it if you don't feel comfortable"
"Comfortable getting naked for a stranger to take pictures of me?" you laughed in disbelief.
"Are you?"
His raised eyebrow and the confidence he had made you unconsciously rub your thighs together. "Don't hold this over my head, ok?"
"It's just a few pictures, Y/n, no big deal"
"I know" you pouted and crossed your arms in front of your chest. "But I don't want you to think I'm a slut or something. I don't do stuff like this"
"There's a beginning for everything, sweetheart. What if you end up loving it and want to take more?"
"Yeah, right" you rolled your eyes and felt a very strong urge to look anywhere else but at him. "Ok, how do you want them?"
He thought about it for a second. "Take your top off, we'll see from there"
The little bit of conscious thinking still present inside your mind had a very hard time accepting just how fast your hands worked to remove your shirt. The second that piece of clothing went over your head, your cheeks started burning and a very painful but familiar feeling awakened in your core. Half naked and maybe a little bit confused, you turned to look at Eddie - who was grinning from ear to ear, getting ready to snap the picture. 
"Say cheese!"
You didn't say it, but you did straighten your back, smiled, and even put on a cute pose with your hands beside your cheeks. 
"You've done this before?" Eddie laughed after taking the picture as he waited for it to slip out of the device.
"No, why?"
He quirked an eyebrow. "It's a nice picture"
"Let me see" you said and bubbled over to him, looking at the picture as it exited the camera. "Oh, yeah. You're right! It really is cute"
"Told you, sweetheart" Eddie grinned and grabbed your chin.
You instinctually followed and tilted your head up to look at him, shame spreading across your body as you reveled in his little words of praise. "What next?"
"Bend over that desk over there"
Without as little as a hint of hesitation, you walked over to the desk, planted your chest on top of it and pushed your skirt up over your ass. 
"See why I'd think you've done this before?" he laughed and slapped your ass. "I didn't even tell you to lift your skirt"
"You were about to anyway, I'm just ahead of you"
"Such a good, little girl" 
As much as you hated to admit, the way he groped your ass, and his fingers - rough and digging into your skin, it all made you squirm under his touch. You remained motionless and sat there quietly, only your feet wobbling a bit from the uncomfortable position as you allowed him to do his thing. "Can I take these off?" Eddie asked, his pointer finger already hooked behind the little piece of fabric that covered your cunt. 
"Yeah, mhm" you nodded eagerly. "Do what you want"
Maybe you shouldn't have said that. But a part of you forgot about the concert and was too focused on Eddie's touch, on his presence behind you, the fact that you couldn't see him making all your senses go off the rails. 
But a deal was a deal and Eddie wasn't about to break it… that much. After pushing your underwear to the side, the cold air hit your already heated and sensitive core. "Can I see how wet you are, doll?"
You nodded. 
And his finger slipped right in, knuckle deep, his big, silver ring barely visible between your damp, puffy folds. 
"How about two?"
"...ok"
"Three? Can you take three?" Eddie asked, slipping his fingers inside without wasting time to hear your answer. 
A soft moan broke past your lips and your back arched the way he was filling you up, little tears of pleasure gathering at the corners of your eyes. "Eddie" you cried.
"Yeah, puppy?" 
But only a grunt escaped your throat as you let your forehead fall against the desk. 
When he didn't get an answer from you, he just chuckled and the next thing you heard was the sound of the camera going off. 
"Cute" Eddie said, retracting his hand from your pussy. 
The sudden feeling of emptiness made you whine, "That's all?"
"What? Did you want more?"
"I- I thought-" you mumbled, turning around to face him, "I thought you were gonna, I don't know…"
"Do you want me to, doll?"
The way the words almost slipped out of your mouth was pathetic. But you managed to control yourself, and just pushed yourself up and shook your head. "No" you lied. And he could tell. 
"You sure, kitten?"
"Yeah, no. Just take the next pic"
"Ok, last one, sweetheart. Can you get on your knees for me?"
Still visibly disappointed with how he left you hanging, you wordlessly kneeled in front of him. Your hands flew up to grip his thighs and your head fell back, your eyes on his. "Like this?"
"Exactly like that, puppy. You're so good, you know that?" Eddie said, nonchalantly licking your juices off his fingers. "And you taste so sweet, baby"
"Thank you" you weakly smiled as he caressed your cheek. "What, um… what do I do now?"
"Open wide for me, just like that. Can you stay like this for a bit?" Eddie commanded. 
All you could do was nod and follow him with your stare, your heart nearly beating out of your chest when he lowered himself in front of you and grabbed your chin. 
"Do you like this?" 
Yes. No. Fuck, you squeezed your eyes shut for a second then then, much to his absolute pleasure, nodded yes. 
The sheer embarrassment you felt from not being able to answer him as your mouth hung open made the pressure between your legs grow even more unbearable. You wanted him to do something, anything, touch, or at least talk to you, but he just left you there, hanging pathetically and waiting. 
"How about this for the last picture?" Eddie questioned and then shoved his fingers into your mouth. Ring deep and with no warning, he forced your jaw open as he pushed his fingers as far as they could go, making your eyes snap wide open in shock. 
"Easy, sweetheart. Stay still for me, ok? Don't fight it"
But it was impossible, with your airway partially blocked and your gag reflex threatening to act up, your hands found his wrist and squeezed as all you could do was look up into his eyes. 
"Do you like being like this, angel? All good and dumb for me?" 
Your answer came in the form of a blink, your eyebrows also arching upwards, before a cough broke in the back of your throat.
"Easy, doll. Slow down, stop fighting it. Relax, you can do it, you can do it, baby" but he was not helping you, instead pushing down harder onto your tongue, making your eyes water from the lack of oxygen. 
But still, you didn't try to fight him, to pry his hand away or to even distance yourself. You just stood there, choking on his fingers, painfully awaiting the moment he'd figure you'd had enough. 
While he didn't let you off easily, when your throat constricted around his fingers again, he finally retracted his hand. Drunk on the so dearly needed breath of fresh air that rushed down your throat, you fell forward, your cheek against his thigh as you struggled to regain your composure. 
"So good for me, puppy. You listen so well" Eddie cooed, brushing your hair as you refused to pull away from your leg. 
"Eddie…" you pouted, "You didn't take the picture"
"That's ok, doll. How are you? Are you good?"
Still unwilling to move, you nodded against his leg. "Yep"
"What do you want to do next, sweetheart? You can choose for the last picture"
"I don't wanna choose" you shook your head, "Just tell me what to do"
"Is there nothing you want, angel? Not even one thing that crossed that pretty, little head of yours?"
"No"
"Then open up for me again, sweetheart" 
Lazily, you shuffled to the side and settled back into your position on your knees in front of him. This time, he only pried your mouth open a little bit, much for the aesthetic of it all, his fingers on your tongue and his heavy rings against your bottom lip. 
When he brought the camera up, you looked directly into the lens, eyes wide and soft, as you were all but drooling. The way you squirmed once you heard the click of the camera was probably pathetic, but he enjoyed it and you wanted more.
"That's enough" Eddie said, placing the device to the side and squatting down in front of you. "Can you swallow for me?"
You blinked in confusion but burned with enthusiasm, almost moaning out loud when you saw him tower over you and spit down onto your awaiting tongue. 
You didn't question it, didn't even flinch, you just closed your mouth and swallowed as he told you. 
Once done, Eddie helped you up and waited for you to change. Back out at his little security desk, you waited patiently for him to put the yellow bracelet around your wrist. "Thank you"
"Pleasure doing business with you, doll"
Despite rolling your eyes, you couldn't also hide the way your lips curled at the little pet name, suddenly getting to you in a way half an hour ago you couldn't have even imagined. 
"Come with me to the bar, I'll fix you something to drink. On the house" 
"Where was this generosity before?" you teased and stepped inside as he held the door open for you. 
"Don't push it," he playfully threatened. Once inside, Eddie grabbed your hand and guided you back behind the bar. "What do you want to drink, sweetheart?"
You knew what you wanted, but the annoyed looks of the people impatiently waiting their turn distracted you. Eddie noticed it in a heartbeat, the distress in your eyes saying it all. 
"Fuck them" he scoffed, raising his middle finger in their direction as he shielded you with his body. "Just tell me what you feel like drinking"
"Um, a screwdriver, please"
"Coming right up" he said and got to work, only to have you follow him closely like a lost puppy. Too many pairs of judgemental eyes still followed your every move, and without Eddie's attention on you, they felt even more intrusive than before. 
"Eddie, I want to pay for it" you said as you opened your purse, "I feel bad"
"I'm not taking your money, Y/n"
"They're looking at me as if I've committed a crime. I'm not going out there with my free drink that I didn't even have to wait for. Just take my money, Eddie, please!"
That sounded like it pissed him off. Not you, though. They did. You sounded genuinely worried, and he didn't like that. After he finished making your drink, Eddie placed it in front of you and then turned to face the customers. "Before you all get your panties in a bunch, she didn't cut to the front, you're waiting to get served by my colleague, I haven't even started my shift. And even if she had cut in front of you, that would've been fine too, because I said so. If any of you even looks at her the wrong way, you're getting kicked out and banned. Thank you!"
Despite his rant having done its job perfectly since no one dared comment or even keep staring, you barely found it in you to look at him. "Eddie… you didn't have to do that"
"If anyone bothers you, come find me" he said, as if he hadn't even heard you. He just grabbed your glass and placed it between your hands, "Go enjoy the concert, sweetheart"
"Thank you" you meekly said.
"No problem, doll" he grinned and slapped your ass as you turned to walk away. 
Luckily enough with the soundcheck and stage preparations, you managed to find your friends before the second song even started. 
While the music wasn't necessarily your favorite, you still danced your soul out and used the little breaks between songs to listen to your friend vent and fangirl over the vocalist. Tall, long hair and a leather jacket - another thing whose appeal you didn't think you'd see any time soon. 
But the whole thing turned out to be a blast, no one interrupting your dancing sessions and by the time the concert was over, you were all spent, barely able to maintain your balance on your aching feet. 
After collapsing in the nearest booth you found available, one friend who made the happiest choice of the night regarding the shoes and chose a pair of sneakers, sacrificed herself and made her way to the bar while you all waited for her at the table. 
Mostly, the conversation circled around everyone's surprise with how enjoyable the concert actually was. A few other topics had been touched, such as whether they'd party at this bar or not, or if any of the members were single, but when the subject of the price rolled around, you felt personally attacked. 
Without explaining, you excused yourself from the table and stomped your way to the bar, walking behind it like the place belonged to you.
"Eddie, I need to talk to you"
"Not now, sweetheart. I'm a bit busy" he hurriedly spoke, unable to even look at you as he balanced 7 shot glasses between his hands. 
"Now, Eddie!"
"It's gonna have to wait, have a seat" he huffed and dragged a stool over to his side of the bar. "Wait" 
The only thing that kept you from making a scene right then and there was the number of people that were waiting for their drinks. And while you would've very gladly given Eddie a hard time, those people had nothing wrong. So, with a pout and a frown on your face, you sat down and proceeded to wait. 
"What's wrong? Can you tell me what happened?" Eddie eventually said in between orders, still visibly busy and not giving you all the attention you required.
"No" you crossed your arms, "Not like this"
"Did something happen?" he questioned, sounding genuinely worried. He threw the towel in his hand over his shoulder and leaned closer, softly touching your thigh as he spoke. "Tell me if-"
"I'll hit you" you snapped and shoved him. "Take a break"
And that was what he did. As soon as he got a little window of time, he asked his colleague to cover for him and then guided you out from behind the bar, and over to a more secluded corner.
"Ok, what happ-"
"Asshole!" you slapped his cheek - as hard as you could but nowhere near hard enough to do any real damage. "Fuck you!"
"Whoa!" Eddie gasped as he recoiled from the blow, instantly grabbing your wrist to stop you from delivering another blow. "What the hell happened?"
"30 dollars!? You lied to me!"
"Oh, that…"
"Yes! That! You're a fucking asshole!"
"Hey, now. Don't go there" Eddie calmly said, arms going up in a defensive position despite still holding onto your hand. "It was just a bit of fun. You had fun too, didn't you?"
"That's not the point"
"You didn't deny it!"
"Asshole!" you snapped again, this time using your free hand to hit his side. But he grabbed onto this wrist too, pulling you closer to him despite your protests. "Eddie, let me go!"
"No, you're gonna hit me again"
"Yes, I am. You lied to me"
"Ok, I lied" he raised his shoulders and rolled his eyes, "So what? We both had some fun, and you got in for free and also got a free drink. I think it's fair"
"No, it's not fair!" you tried to free yourself but his grip was iron strong. "It's not fair because it wasn't 30 dollars, you lied!"
"It was still 10 dollars, which you didn't have to pay, now did you?"
"I would've paid 10 dollars!"
"But you didn't. I saved you some money. I think you should just thank me, doll" 
"You're unbelievable" you scoffed, turning your head to the side so that you wouldn't have to look at him. 
Eddie however, had a different idea. As he let your wrists go, he cupped your cheeks into his hands so that you'd face him. Despite the annoyed look on your face, your hands traveled up to his sides, grabbing onto his leather jacket as he held you close. 
"Come on, you can't really be upset with me right now, sweetheart."
"Well, I am," you frowned. 
"I'm sorry, dove. It wasn't my intention. I never meant to upset you"
"You wouldn't have lied if you didn't want to upset me"
"I didn't think you'd find out" he chuckled, which deepened your frown. "Hey, look at me" 
"No" you pouted and turned your head to the side, making Eddie have to lean from left to right multiple times in order to meet your eyes.
"Angel, look at me, come on"
"No, Eddie, leave me alone!" you protested, but the smile was audible in your tone. He knew he got to you. 
"Hey, come on. Look at you, all smiling"
"I'm not smiling!" you said, trying to sound serious, but eventually giggled when you finally looked at him.
"There you go! That's my girl!" Eddie laughed and brought you closer, "You forgive me, doll, right?" he asked, lightly rubbing your chin with his thumb.
"No"
"You're a bad liar, sweetheart. I think you didn't even mind in the first place, did you?"
"I did!"
"Then why were you so wet for me, huh?" he grinned.
"I'm mad you lied to me" you sighed, not showing any signs of wanting to distance yourself from him anymore. "You didn't have to do that"
"How was I supposed to know you'd say yes?"
"You should've asked!"
"I'm sorry, baby. I really am" he said softly and then nudged your forehead with his. "Kiss me to make it better?"
"I don't want to kiss you, Eddie, I'm still upset"
"No, you're not" he laughed and leaned in, his lips brushing against yours a couple of times until you couldn't help it anymore. 
"You're an asshole, you know that?" you shook your head in disbelief, unable to contain your nervous laughter. But despite your words, you were still pressed against him, your hands on his waist and your lips inches away from his. 
"I'm fun, sweetheart. Just kiss me"
"Ok, but you're not going to lie to me again!"
"Never!" he swore, all wide eyed and not at all grinning as he did so. 
But you didn't pay too much attention. That promise, however empty, was enough for you to feel completely content with going in for a full kiss. He welcomed you fully, one of his hands finding your ass in no time, squeezing hard enough to bruise. But it only riled you up further as you clung onto him, breathing him in with every single brush of your tongue against his. 
"Ah! My lipstick!" you whined as you pulled away for air. 
"It looks alright, it didn't smudge, don't worry" Eddie smiled, looking at you in awe as you tried to make sure your lipstick didn't get all over your face. 
"The girls said it's blowjob proof, I guess they were right" you giggled when you saw no color transferred to Eddie's lips or your fingers. "That's 5 dollars well spent" 
"See?" Eddie grabbed your ass as he proudly spoke, "And now, thanks to me, you can get two more. I can even help you try them all out. Multiple times, see if they really are blowjob proof."
"How nice of you" you mocked.
"I know, right?" Eddie chuckled and then kissed your temple. "I have to go back to work now, though. You can hang out with me, if you want"
You were about to follow him, but right before he reached the bar, you tugged his sleeve. "Eddie? Can I ask for a favor?"
He blinked in curiosity. "Sure, sweetheart. What is it?"
"You know I told you I have this friend who likes-"
"Who likes the vocalist, yes, I remember"
"Yeah, well… I was wondering if you could introduce them?"
"Yeah, doll. No problem" Eddie said and looked around, "I think they're still in the back, come with me"
And you did. You followed him wordlessly and reveled in the privilege of walking through the "employees only" door. The dark and sticky corridor Eddie dragged you through had absolutely no reason to make you feel as important as it did, but you loved it. And once outside, in the parking lot you yourself had crossed earlier on your way to the concert, as you and Eddie approached the band's van, you still managed to feel important, as if there was business to attend to.
Even talking to the band you couldn't care less about felt empowering, especially the way each member went to shake your hand as Eddie did the introductions. But despite all of them being nothing but a happy and laid back bunch, you still felt the need to cower behind Eddie as he conversed with the vocalist.
Even though they were all heading inside for some well deserved post concert drinks, Eddie made sure to mention the one fan the man absolutely had to meet. 
"This one?" the vocalist, whose name you found out to be Joe, or Joey, asked, pointing at you.
Your eyes went wide, but Eddie only chuckled. "No, she's with me. It's one of her friends, though. She's inside" 
While the band still had a few minutes worth of organizing to do, you and Eddie headed back towards the bar. 
"I'm with you?" you giggled, almost feeling the need to cover your mouth at how giddy his words made you. 
"Aren't you?" Eddie laughed.
"I guess I am" you smiled and resumed your spot on the chair he had brought for you earlier. "Can I help you with stuff? Or is that allowed? I don't know"
"Everything's allowed, sweetheart, but don't worry. Enjoy yourself, I don't need any help. Sit there and be pretty for me"
"I can do that" you wiggled your legs in the air. "And thank you for speaking to Joey. She's gonna be so happy, I'm never going to hear the end of it"
After sending you a knowing smile, Eddie put his arm around your shoulders and kissed your forehead, "Anything for you, sweetheart"
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creepling · 1 month
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here are my headcanons that clash with the lore [aka ronnie hobb's headcanons he just makes up on the spot me thinks] i have for tcm game characters bc i have writer's block and i need out of it FAST.
danny does not go to university, i'm sorry. i know i know the home gives him a scholarship but he is a blue collar guy. he has to make his own living, he's a hands on guy and he's got COMMON SENSE. no working-class person in the 70s is going to college, they know learning on the job is both sustainable for living (plus he's in a situation where he has to leave the home at 18, so he gotta pay city rent prices to have a roof over his head) and better to learn a trade while getting a paycheck. he was an apprentice since he was 18, and is a year into working as a car mechanic in austin. he does night/weekend classes at the university, probs something in humanities or art. he frequents the student bars when he has his time off, and that is when he meets maria + the gang. he knows leland from fixing his car from time to time, and when danny sees him at a bar one night, hanging out with maria, he knows right away he's asking him to introduce him to her.
leland is NOT the mf that gets the friend group together. this mf has a lot of misogyny to unlearn from growing up in a southern suburb. he took an elective in an art just so he can be in a class with "hot chicks". he doesn't even consider being friends with women at first bc he used to think girls = protential girlfriends/future wives. it wasn't until he found out sonny (the first friend he made, his bff) was close with maria, julie and connie that he warmed up to the idea of all hanging out together. sure... his crush on julie played a factor on him wanting to stay, but being around such open-minded people made him relax and unlearn the shitty traditions he didn't like in the first place. now they're like sisters to him and he lets maria braid his hair when stoned and makes attempt at getting connie out of her shy shell. watching julie from afar, remembering her off-hand remark about not wanting to be in a relationship, keeping his feelings to himself; because he doesn't wanna ruin the bond they all have.
the reason why julie is not wanting to date is because she comes to the realisation of her sexuality. she realises she likes men because, men tend to like her first, and it's easy to love someone who loves you back (typical fire sign move). and she's never picky, she says she doesn't care about looks; it's more the personality. and that is true but, for a guy if he has good style and funny -- she's settled. then she will see a lassie and think "she is the most ethereal thing i've laid eyes on". the intensity of her love for women compared to men hits her overnight. she lets her love for women shine through her platonic relationships; connie, maria and ana are her first priorities (especially connie). she likes sleepovers, having the illusion of living with a s/o while sharing a bed and making breakfast in the morning. she loves showering her friends in compliments, giving them makeovers, taking any excuse to be close to them and show her adoration. her subconscious desire to be in a relationship with a woman lives vicariously through the platonic relationships she has with her feminine peers.
the only person who can see right through it is connie, someone who has her sexuality figured out. she went through the same self-discovery, after all. but loving julie means moving on from her lover who she left behind, so connie is tied at both ends. does she take the risk, find new beginnings, even when there is no concrete proof julie is capable of loving her? or does she keep her promise, return to her lover back home, even if that meant witnessing the promise broken on the other side? what if she found another fate, got married, had kids, kept the feelings hidden. and when she sees how men look at julie, and how boys looked at her past lover, the insecurity prevails. why should they take the risk for her, a singular person, when there is the familiar option lining up to be her husband? *queue Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan*
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art-estrange · 11 months
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A Man After My Own Art (AMAMOA)
Prologue: Insert Pun Here
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Professor!Pedro Pascal x Teaching Assistant!Reader
*DO NOT REPOST*
the idea is ultimatly mine however i do not own the concept/the person that is Pedro Pascal and major warning because this an AU he will be a littl OCC
Words: 642
Story Warnings: MDNI 18+ (mostly in the off chance that I choose to explore heavy themes later on. This will obviously be updated at a later time because this is my first fic and so far I only have this prologue and the first chapter fleshed out) Crocs(yes that has a warning, i’m kind of obsessed with wearing crocs and currently own 2 pairs hopefully more in the future)
Story Content Tags (most of this is mentioned in later chapters.): Meet-Cute, First person perspective, Age-gap(F28/late 20s x M40/early 40s/late 30s), Art references, new york nonsense written by a non-new yorker, spanish/spanglish, Lots of college technical talk, this was kinda based off a dream, crocs, College AU, AU where pedro isn't an actor/famous, slightly proofread… sorry for typos i'm trying guys😭😭😭
Story Summary: You (the reader) have moved to New York enrolled in NYU’s Graduate program, a dream you thought you’d never achieve in an apartment you thought you’d never have. Fate works in funny ways sometimes and you might find love in an unexpected place. You might not.
New York City, the big apple, the big easy, the city that never sleeps… and my new home. I moved from my, frankly, boring home in a shitty town, to the bustling sleepless chaos that is New York City, specifically Manhattan, for the job of my dreams. I've been working hard and have failed countless times trying to become an art professor for years now and finally after having flunked undergrad several times, racked up debt up to my ears, paid off all that debt, and saved up for my dream apartment, I’m finally a grad student. Bachelor's degree here I come! I stood in my studio loft, reminiscing about all the frustrating times I suffered through trying to make it while sitting in unnecessary classes like government and science because who REALLY needs that? Not an art major like me that's for sure!
I was uncomfortably reminded of the sweat dripping down my brow, boxes of my life surrounding me, “I better continue unpacking”. Its strange; a person's entire life can be packed away in a single box and not just any box… a series of boxes actually, old amazon boxes to be specific, a jarring reminder of the grasp capitalism has on me but who can blame me, I NEEDED the knick-knacks that originally came in those boxes, I DESERVED the little drinky-drinks that I can’t find in stores that only amazon sells.
 I walk around and stop at the large windows facing the city, people down on the street going about their fast-paced lives with no clue that they’re being watched, like fish in a tank. I run my hand against the exposed brick of the living room wall, my crocs squeaking on the polished concrete flooring, I’ve finally made it. I can just imagine myself laying upon my couch when it gets delivered, the sun beaming in through the windows as I curl up in its warm glow much like a cat does. The thought of enjoying my time in my new home fills me with not only hope but a boost of serotonin. With all the commotion of moving and the excitement of being somewhere new, I forget that I haven’t eaten all day. Grumble Grumble My stomach echoes through the not yet furnished apartment “I think i should go get food.” 
I break in the new shower, bust out the new towels and get ready to head out, struggling in the maze of boxes that is my new home. On the street, I weave through bodies getting home from the midday rush, speed walking new yorkers with their own stories and lives intertwining for just the second we pass each other on the street. The warm oranges and vibrant lavenders and pinks painting the sky much like oils do a canvas. Life truly does imitate art…at least that's how I think the saying goes.
 I stumble across a food truck selling gyros and order my lunch…dinner?? Is it really lunch anymore if it's 6pm? Right as I'm getting out of line I walk into a wall, landing straight on my ass. “Are you ok?” spoke the wall in a soft voice, concern laced in its tone. I look up into soft brown eyes, slightly stunned. That WASN'T a wall. “Uhh..” I stammer and stutter as tan skin, fluffy bed swept hair, and large square framed glasses stare down at me waiting for a semblance of a response. “Number 45!!” 45…. My food! I scramble to get up, slightly bumping into the handsome stranger. “Sorry!” I yell out at him as I jog up to the counter and essentially run away with my tail tucked between my legs, sort of speak. As I walk home, I look back, the stranger's face seared into my mind. Hopefully I see him again, but knowing this city I probably won't.
A/N: I hope you guys like this i read it myself and was like "this is passible" LMAO sadly dont have anyone to test read before i post so if theres typos or grammar issues, i do apologize. If you are interested in getting tagged feel free to comment below. Just a heads up this is just a silly little fic with no set direction and now set date on when I'll be posting howevr because i have the majority of chapter 1 written I will be posting it in about a week or so. -Emery, Out!
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rayslittlekitten · 2 years
Text
Vixen
Part 1 | Part 2
A/N: Okay this all started with a seed of an idea of accidentally texting the person you are thirsting about, then it became a Christmas thing and it went a little crazy. I think this is by far the longest one shot I've written. Thank you so so much to @green-socks and @lovebarefootblonde for beta reading this and helping me fine tune and shape this story. I also wasn't sure if I'd be able to finish this in time for Christmas especially since my booster shot kicked my ass but I'm happy I did.
Rating: E (18+ ONLY)
Word Count: ~4,980
Pairing: IT Guy!Will "Ironhead" Miller x Work Wife F!reader
Plot: A text messaging mix up turns into an early Christmas for you.
Contains: heavy flirting and banter, teasing, unprotected office P in V sex, oral sex (F receiving), biting, size kink if you squint, moment of panty sniffing
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Overplayed Christmas music is blasting from a Bluetooth speaker connected to somebody's phone which occasionally gets interrupted by an incoming message or email. Gaudy tinsel and cheap decorations are scattered all over the office. A few people are gathered around the water cooler chattering away. There's a makeshift poker table somewhere and they're betting with red and green M&Ms. One of your colleagues is hovering in the kitchen area trying to push their homemade potluck surprise. It looks like they took all of their Thanksgiving leftovers and attempted a casserole. You were somehow able to dodge the questionable dish.
The only things getting you through this company holiday party are the beer, chips, and the anticipation of your best friend coming to make it a little less miserable. Your boss is very flexible and allows his employees to bring a guest. Thank goodness, because you don't know how long you're going to last playing Cards Against Humanity. It was entertaining at first, but after the third game, it gets a bit stale.
Also, Will, your work buddy, abandoned you because his brother is in town. The two of you gossip with, vent to, and confide in each other especially when it comes to work-related things. You are basically work spouses. Even though you both work in different departments, you two spend the most time with each other, whether in person or through email and messaging.
Since he’s the head of IT, he’s given you a lot of permissions on your computer so you can go on websites you technically shouldn’t be on. There are times where the two of you flirt, but it seems innocent, at least on his end. He definitely helps make your job more worthwhile.
While waiting for the cards to be dealt, you send a simple text to him:
"Traitor."
You then text your best friend:
“Willa bb, where are you?”
You put your phone down and gather up your cards, frowning at your mediocre selection. While deciding which card to use, your phone pings. As you go to check the text message you just received, another comes in.
“Literally just left the bakery.”
“I’m actually on the way there. What am I missing?”
You quickly shoot back a message.
“Not much. Shitty food, boring card games and definitely not any hot guys. The only one hot guy there is, isn’t here.”
You put your phone down mid-texting to play a card and then continue with your message:
“I wanted you to see him in person because pictures do NOT do him justice. Like, it should be ILLEGAL for some1 to look like that. That tall glass of water. He should be in a museum, not in the Geek Squad! He has to know how gorgeous he is, right? I wanna run my fingers through that blonde hair. Don't even get me started on those CRAZY blue eyes!”
“He is SO fucking sweet too. Totally oozes BDE. Like, how has nobody nabbed him yet? Maybe he's not looking for anything serious, but if he isn't, I'm totally DTF. I’d climb that tree. UGH, I'm getting flustered just thinking about Will.”
You see the three small dots bouncing on your screen but it suddenly disappears.
“Definitely gonna be fantasizing about him tonight in bed. Pls get here soon bb.”
You didn’t win this round and it’s your turn to be the Card Czar. You quickly read the prompt out loud and wait for everyone to choose their card.
You continue playing the game and at some point in the middle of it, the group takes a break to use the restroom, stretch out, maybe grab a snack. You actually end up abandoning the game to go grab another beer and after you pop open a lukewarm corona, you hear a commotion.
“Hey, you made it!”
You walk over to the front of the office in your new pencil dress, four inch heels you regret wearing, and light-up reindeer antlers on your head to see the man you’ve been texting about, standing next to another man with similar features. As he’s briefly chatting with one of your colleagues, Will glances over behind them and makes eye contact with you.
“Hey, you!” Will waves over to you with a wide grin.
You finally make your way to the two tall glasses of water.
“Wow, you got all dressed up for me?” Will asks with his hand over his heart. “You shouldn’t have.”
“Look who decided to show up! And with a plus one,” you say, ignoring his sarcastic question.
“Yes, this is my brother Benny. Benny, this is my favorite coworker.“
“Ah, the work wife. I’ve heard a lot about you. Nice to finally meet you.” Ben extends his hand.
“Oh, have you?” You take his hand and shake it. “I've heard quite a lot about you too so it's nice to put a face to you. So what the heck are guys doing here?”
“I figured we could swing by for a bit. Not really doing much for the rest of the day," Will answers. "Plus, I keep getting emails that the server is acting up."
"Well, there's some shitty food and shitty beer, but they're free," you say, leading them to the kitchen area.
The three of you step into the open space and Will greets his other coworkers and introduces Benny to them. As Benny chats with some of the others, you and Will are picking at the leftover food.
"What the hell is this?" Will asks, pointing to the mystery casserole.
"I don't know, something Glenn brought in. Potluck surprise!"
"I don't think my dog would even eat that.” Will grimaces. “And he eats anything you give him."
"I dare you to eat it," you challenge him.
"What do I get out of it?" Will asks.
"Bragging rights?" you shrug.
The two of you are always finding ways to make the work day more interesting including but not limited to daring each other to do things.
"I'm gonna need more than that if the risk is me shitting my pants," Will laughs.
"It's a dare, not a bet. I double dog dare you!"
"Double dog dare? Wow. You really hate my digestive system, don't you?" Will asks, then shakes his head while shoving a tortilla chip into his mouth.
"Listen, I've been here for three hours already and the most interesting thing that's happened so far are the texts I've sent to my best friend," you tell him.
Will chokes on his chip and you slap his back, but he signals you that he's fine. He takes a sip of his beer to help wash it down.
"You alright, dude?"
He nods as he clears his throat.
"Should have had that potluck surprise. Probably would have helped that chip go down a little easier," you tease.
"Hey, bro. Where's the bathroom?" Benny asks as he walks over to the two of you.
"I'll show you," Will tells Benny. "I'll be back," he says to you.
After they walk off, you text your friend again.
"OMG HE SHOWED UP AFTER ALL! His brother is here too and he’s kinda cute but he seems more like your type. He’s an MMA fighter and I know how you like those brawlers. I wouldn't mind a few rounds with Will though 😏"
You notice your phone's battery is a little low so you walk over to your desk to plug it in. Also to relieve your feet from these new shoes. You get a phone call from your friend so you pick up.
"Willa, where are you?"
“Ugh, I’m stuck in traffic. It might be another 20 minutes.”
"Did you get my text about Will? Oh my gosh, he's actually here and he brought his brother. I think you'd totally be into him," you tell her.
"No, I haven't. My phone is being stupid again. Or it’s my service. Freakin' T-Mobile. Sometimes I don't get texts from people until days later," Willa says. "Anyways, I'll be there ASAP. These cookies might not survive the ride though. I've probably eaten half of these while sitting in traffic."
"Don't worry about that. See you soon!"
"Save me some beer and a Miller brother! Byeeeeee!"
You laugh and hang up.
"What are you so giddy about? Santa letting you guide his sleigh?" Will flicks your flashy and furry headband.
You jump out of your seat and look up to see Will hovering over your desk.
"Not cool, Will! You sneaky motherfucker."
Will smirks. "So where’s your BFF?" He crosses his arms and sits on the edge of your desk.
"She's stuck in traffic."
"Yeah, I think there was a motorcycle accident or something on Redwood and Charming," Will says.
"Well, I'm so glad you showed up because I don’t know how many more rounds of Cards Against Humanity I could have taken. I used to love that game, but it's been ruined for me," you roll your eyes.
"You can always go climb some trees," Will suggests. "I hear that's your thing."
You shoot him a confused look. "Why would I climb a tree?"
Will shrugs. "It can be fun I guess. Depends on the tree you're climbing, right?"
"Why are you being so weird?" you ask. "Are you drunk?"
"No, I’ve only had a couple of drinks," Will chuckles. "I'm not even buzzed."
"How long are you staying for?"
"I don't know." Will shrugs. He checks his watch and taps and swipes the screen on his smart watch. "At least long enough to make sure the server is stable. It’s been acting up all week."
"Don't make me start ripping out wires," you threaten.
"Why don't you just leave? You're not obligated to stay."
"Well, Willa is on her way so I gotta wait for her at least.”
"How about we ditch the party to go somewhere else and you can tell her where to meet us?” he suggests as he pulls out a piece of gum from his pocket and pops it into his mouth.
"Well, that sounds like an idea." You think for a second.
“Or…” He pauses, and then leans in closer to you. “It could just be me and you. Ditch my brother and your friend.”
“Oh, yeah? And where would we go?” you ask, leaning in closer against your desk.
Will looks down at you with a smirk while chewing his gum. “You tell me, Rudolph.”
Will suddenly checks his watch again and taps on it a few times. "Fuck. I gotta check the server. I’ll be back." He pushes himself off your desk and walks away.
You send Willa another text hoping she’d get it. You don’t want to call her while she’s driving.
“Omg he wants to hang out. Like alone. What do you think? Should I make a move?”
A few of your coworkers pass by your desk on their way out and you wave goodbye to them. A few minutes later you get a reply.
“I triple dog dare you.”
You stare at the message for a few seconds and start to feel uneasy. You then double check who the text was from and the last few text messages you sent this person. Your stomach drops as you just realize the entire time you thought you’ve been texting your friend Willa, you had been texting Will. You then check the messages between you and Willa and see that you in fact never replied to her. You don’t know if you’re more upset that Will had read all that or that he didn’t tell you you’ve been texting the wrong person this whole time. The tree climbing comment makes so much sense now. You are so mortified, you want to just sneak out, quit your job and move to another country to start a new life.
Just then your phone rings and it’s Willa. You pick up and let out a heavy sigh.
“Hey, please tell me you’re here so you can whisk me away because I am such a freakin’ idiot.”
“Yeah, I think I’m on the right floor. Why are you an idiot?” Willa asks.
You leave your desk to get Willa from the front.
“Oh my gosh, you haven’t been getting my texts because I just found out I’ve been sending them to Will, not you! He knows everything!” you whisper loudly.
“So? Did he say anything about them?” Willa hands you a half eaten box of cookies.
“Yes? No? Kinda?” You show her the text exchange.
“Girl, he’s offering you a sip of that tall glass of water. Go quench your thirst!”
“Or he’s just being a dick and poking fun of me.” You place the box of cookies on your desk.
“Hey! Have you seen— oh, hi there!” Benny comes out of nowhere. The Millers sure know how to be light on their feet. “I’m Benny!” He extends his hand out to Willa with a huge grin.
“Hey there yourself. I’m Willa!” She takes his hand and shakes it.
“Do you uh, work here too?”
“No, I'm a friend of hers.” Willa points to you. “Why don’t you go get that drink you’ve been dying for?” She nudges you.
“Right. Uh, I’ll be back.”
You start walking off, taking your phone with you. Your feet are moving involuntarily but you don’t even know where you’re going. You pause for a moment to take your phone out and reply back to his text:
“Triple dog dare? You really want me to die from humiliation, don’t you, asshole?”
You continue walking aimlessly until you hear your phone chirp.
“Look who’s finally caught on.”
You anxiously pace around watching the three bouncing dots appear again, making you even more nervous.
“I’m just curious what you fantasize about.”
You start walking again while responding:
“Well I’m never gonna tell you now 🙄”
You smugly hit send and continue your stroll with an extra pep in your step.
“Hey, Rudolph!”
You turn your head to look behind you. You see Will’s head popping out of a room. You then realize you had just walked past the server room.
“I’d like to think I’m more of a Vixen.” You turn your body towards him and pull your antlers off your head.
“There’s no denying that.” Will trails his eyes up and down your body.
”So how’s the uh…” You point the antlers to the room. “Everything good?”
“I think so. Just waiting for the server to reboot.” He quickly scans the empty immediate area before directing his attention back at you. “Wanna wait with me? I could use the company.” He nudges his head toward the room.
You take your time shuffling over to him. When you reach the door, he creates space for you so you can step in. As you walk past him, your body brushes up against his. You feel a shiver run through your body, but you don’t know if it’s from that or sudden temperature drop. He closes the door and locks it behind him.
You walk further into the room and put the antlers and your phone on a nearby desk.
“I’m sorry you got all those texts. You weren’t supposed to see them. I’m super embarrassed. I hope things aren’t weird between us now.” You turn to face him a couple of feet away from you. He’s stood much closer to you before but right now it almost feels like he’s on top of you.
“But also you’re a dick for letting this drag on for so long.” You playfully shove him.
“I’m not sorry.” Will laughs, stumbling back a bit. “I honestly didn’t know you were texting the wrong person until I knew you were talking about me.” He puts his hands up in defense. “But I’m glad you did.” He walks closer to you.
“Because I like you.”
“I mean, sure I like you too. That’s why we’re friends,” you say matter-of-factly.
“You know what I mean.” Will licks his bottom lip.
The both of you stare at each other, not sure what to do next. All you can feel right now is your heart pounding against your chest.
“Oh! Willa finally showed up and her and Benny are really hitting it off,” you say, changing the subject.
“I honestly don’t care what’s going outside this room right now.” Will shakes his head. He steps even closer to you, into your personal space and the coil in your gut tightens. You put your palms on his chest, welcoming his warmth.
“You’re shaking.” Will holds your hands in his. “Are you cold?”
“N-no.” You shake your head. “Just uh...” You let out a shaky breath as he brings your hands up to his lips, gently blowing on them to warm them up.
You look up at him, staring into his ice blue eyes as he looks down at you.
“Am I making you nervous?” Will asks.
“Mmmaybe a little?” You tilt your head and squint an eye.
“Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry. I’m probably coming on strong—“ Will releases your hands and takes a step back from you.
“No!” You take a step in closer to Will, almost colliding with him. Your hands go back on to his chest and you slide them up to the back of his neck, your fingers lightly grazing his hair at the nape.
“M-maybe I am a little chilly in here. What are some ways I could keep warm?” you ask, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
Will starts shedding his navy blue bomber jacket. Not quite the response you were hoping for. Expecting him to offer you his jacket, you’re surprised when he tosses it onto the desk instead.
“I think I can find some ways to get your blood going.” He dips his face down and nudges the tip of his slim nose against yours.
You can feel your heart rate increasing already. You both watch and wait for the other person. His breath is warm against your red lips. He is still chewing his gum from earlier and a faint scent of mint still lingers. Despite your four inch heels, you still need to tiptoe to close the distance. You brush your lips against his and he follows your lead, but you pull back at the last moment, teasing him. He smirks and dips his head down further, but you giggle and bite your lower lip as you move your head to avoid his lips.
“This part of your fantasy? The chase?” Will asks and then takes the gum out of his mouth.
“No, I just think it’s fun–”
In one swift move, Will sticks the gum under the desk and then grabs your waist, pulls you in, and captures your lips with his own. It takes you a moment to process what is happening. Once you do, you pull Will down closer to you and kiss back. The two of you continue to kiss for a few seconds, testing out the waters. He then wraps his arms around your torso and pulls your body up against his, deepening the kiss. You feel his hard chest pressed against your breasts and feel his hard dick poking your belly. You slip your tongue into his mouth and he offers his as well. While making out, Will backs you up until you hit a wall. His denim-covered thigh slips between your legs and your hips start gyrating against it as your kisses become more feverish and urgent. His hands snake down to cup and squeeze your ass. You feel the front of his body, particularly his rock hard nether region, pressing against yours. You moan into his mouth and run your fingers through the golden locks on top of his head.
Will pulls away for a moment and moves his mouth to the side of your neck. Your eyes roll back and knees buckle when you feel his warm velvety tongue graze the spot behind your ear. He quickly pulls your body up and pins your body between his and the wall, his thigh pressing harder against your crotch.
“Will…” you pant.
“You want more, Vixen?” Will breathes into your ear.
“I want this.” One of your hands travels down his body to cup the bulge straining behind his zipper. Will groans and thrusts into your hand.
“Fuck,” Will grits. He buries his face between your neck and shoulder as you massage him. He takes a deep breath as he inhales your scent.
You start unbuckling his belt and undoing his fly. You slip your hand down his pants and rub the palm of your hand over his cotton-covered erection. You tense up for a second feeling his impressive size. Again, he pushes himself against your hand. You feel a sudden sting on your shoulder as Will sinks his teeth into it.
You moan and press yourself down on his thigh, riding it. He pulls back and starts kissing you again. He hikes up the skirt of your dress until there’s just enough space for him to access your bare ass. He cups and squeezes you before running a few fingers over the front of your lace thong. Your arousal is seeping through the fabric and lightly coating his fingers. The both of you continue to make out and rub each other until you start trying to pull his bottoms down but only his jeans slip over his hips.
Will breaks the kiss and adjusts his stance to help you. You glance down just to see what he’s working with. The sexy outline of his thick dick pushing out against the white boxer briefs makes you even more excited. Will pushes his boxers down and his gorgeous cock springs free. You reach down and start stroking him.
Will groans and then slips his hand between your legs again. He hooks his fingers under the front of your panties and pulls them aside to dip a finger inside you. You gasp and try to move with his hand. You stifle a moan when you feel him drag his soaked finger over your clit, making you buckle again. Your heels are throwing off your center of gravity and if it wasn’t for the wall and Will, you’re confident either your face or your ass would be on the floor.
You kick your shoes off and you suddenly shrink in size. He now towers over you even more, making you feel small.
“I want you to fuck me, Will.” Your breathing is getting shallower, as is his.
“Yeah? Is this one of your fantasies? Me fucking you in the server room?” Will’s fingers zero in on your clit.
“Sometimes,” you manage to let out, unable to concentrate on petting him. You moan loudly and thrust against him, feeling him easily slip two long slender fingers inside of you.
“Shh. You gotta stay quiet,” Will says as his fingertips are putting pressure against the engorged spongy g-spot inside of you. “You don’t want anyone to hear us, do you?”
“Will, I’m going to cum if you don’t stop.” You feel a warmth forming between your legs and your gut tightening.
Will looks down at you with half open eyes as he watches your face. You are just about to explode when he pulls out of you. He yanks your dress up over your hips and hooked his fingers to the sides of your panties, then pulls them down. He gets on his knees as he continues to move them down your legs and off you, tossing them aside.
Will tosses one of your legs over his shoulder and looks up at you as he puts his mouth over your swollen clit. You throw your head back and run your fingers through his hair again. You feel the tip of his tongue teasing your opening, flicking it and quickly dipping in and out of it.
“Fuck,” you let out in a shaky breath.
You feel the warmth spreading and radiating. He starts sucking on your clit hard. The bumpy texture of his tongue stimulates the bundle of nerves so perfectly.
“Will, I need you to fuck me now!” You lick your smudged lips and swallow to try to lubricate your dry throat.
Will’s mouth stops his assault on you and he gets to his feet. He kisses you once more and you taste yourself on his lips and tongue. He then tries to align himself with you but the height difference isn’t quite making it easy.
“Let’s move over there.” Will nudges his head towards the desk. He takes your hand in his and guides you to it.
“Hop on here.” Will pats the top of the desk.
“Is it going to hold?” you ask, glancing at it.
“Yes, trust me.”
“You’ve fucked other women on it before?” you ask curiously, craning your neck to look at him.
“No,” he shakes his head and chuckles. ”I just know it’s a sturdy desk. Come on.” He pats the desk again.
You hop on to the desk and he immediately steps into the space between your legs. He grabs your hips and pulls you closer to the edge of the desk. Next, he tries to align himself again with you and starts teasing your slit with the tip of his dick. He puts gentle pressure to your opening and pulls back, then puts a little more pressure before pulling back again.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Will.” You are hanging by a very loose thread. “Please just fuck me.”
You suddenly feel the head penetrate you, but he pulls back out. He starts giving you slow, short strokes. You wrap your legs around his torso and try to pull him in, but he’s not allowing it.
“You’re driving me fucking crazy, Will!” Your body feels like it’s on fire now. The cold server room now feels too hot for you.
“I love watching the fucking faces you make while I’m teasing the fuck out of you.”
Then without warning, Will thrusts himself all the way inside of you to the hilt. You gasp as your body tenses up.
“Holy shit, you’re so fucking wet.” Will moans as he pulls back and pushes back into you.
He keeps a steady rhythm as he pumps in and out of you. You reach your fingers down between your legs and start rubbing your clit as the head of his cock is massaging your g-spot.
Your pants are increasingly getting louder and shorter until your eyes roll to the back of your skull as you convulse on his cock. You continue to stimulate your clit and gasp as you’re riding the wave. Will continues to hit a spot that makes your orgasm feel like it’s never going to end as one starts before the previous one stops. He clamps his hand over your mouth as you uncontrollably cry out.
Your contracting muscles bring him closer to his own release and he grunts as he spills himself inside you. It feels like he’s shooting at a hundred miles an hour as his seed hits your cervix. He groans as he slows down, trying to get the last drops out.
Will leans his forehead against yours as the two of you try to catch your breath. You make eye contact with him and he grins at you. You smile back at him and then lean in to kiss him. He welcomes it and lazily kisses back. The urgency and tension is no longer there, just sensual post-coital euphoria.
Will pulls back and then slowly pulls out of you, spilling some of both of your bodily fluids onto the desk.
“Damn. I just cleaned this desk yesterday too,” Will chuckles. He tucks himself back in and you hop off the desk. He reaches for a roll of paper towels he pulls out of a desk drawer and rips off a piece for you.
“Thanks.”
While you clean yourself up, he cleans the desk area.
“How are you feeling? You okay?” Will asks you.
You look over at him and smile. “Yeah.” You then reach up to wipe the lipstick stains on his face and blonde beard with your thumbs.
“Your beard is so red,” you laugh as you try to get it all out. “I probably look like a clown right now.” You grab another paper towel to wipe the smudged makeup off your face. Will reaches up to help you with it.
“It’s honestly not that bad.”
Your phone pings and you look for it. Once you find it, you check it and realized you somehow missed a whole bunch of texts from Willa:
“OMG Benny is THE cutest. He’s adorable and funny AF.”
“Hope things are going well btwn you and Will.”
“Okay, I’m guessing you and Will are hitting it off. You’re not answering my texts. Or I’m just not getting yours. Anyways Benny and I are making possible plans to hit up a bar nearby.”
“Willa and Ben are gonna ditch the party,” you say as you read the texts.
As you start replying to her text, Will presents your underwear to you.
“Maybe you should hold on to it,” you suggest.
“Do you think I’m some sort of perv?” Will asks.
“Just thought you might want a souvenir. Something to remember this by,” you shrug.
Will brings the delicate fabric up to his nose and he sniffs it.
“Wow, I think you’re a perv now,” you laugh and Will smirks.
“Whatever.” He shoves your panties into the front of his jeans pocket and then pulls out a fresh piece of gum to pop into his mouth. He then goes to grab his jacket off the desk. “Come on, let’s go.”
You slip your feet into your heels.
“Let’s get the hell out of here.” Will grabs your hand and you both walk off together, heading towards the nearest exit.
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lostinthewiind · 3 years
Text
Piss Off Your Parents - Part 9
Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu
Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.
Rating: PG13
Warnings: arguing, harsh language, swearing
Song → 18 by Anarbor
Previous → Part 8
Next → Part 10
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The trek up the stairs from the store to the apartment felt like climbing a never-ending escalator that was going the wrong way. After the day you had had, you were both mentally and physically exhausted and ready to call it a night early.
Thankfully, as if you had finally hit a stroke of luck that day, Keishin had texted you saying that he would pick up dinner on the way home, saving you the exertion of having to leave the apartment again. So, with that information in mind, you kicked off your shoes for the day and fell unceremoniously onto the couch in the living room.
As you sat down, you heard the envelope in your back pocket crinkle and the sudden noise seemed to completely fill the otherwise silent apartment.
Ah yes, the envelope.
Pulling the decision to your future out of your back pocket, you stared at it for what felt like another hour or so. No matter how long you held the envelope in your hands, you couldn't force yourself to open it. You simply didn't want to.
At some point between when your mother had handed it to you and now, you had subconsciously decided that you wanted to choose your own path forward despite what the decision letter may or may not say.
Feeling strangely empowered and confident, you stood to your feet and ventured into the bedroom where you slipped the envelope into one of the drawers Keishin was letting you keep your clothes in and tucked it underneath one of your sweaters. Maybe one day you would open the damn thing when whatever was inside wasn't weighing so heavily on your mind and future, but today was not that day.
Just then, you heard the front door open and knew Keishin had arrived home. Closing the drawer, you plastered a smile across your face and exited the bedroom to greet your boyfriend.
"Welcome home, Dear," you giggled, trying your best to fake the part of a doting housewife. "How was the volleyball game?"
Keishin chuckled softly as you took the takeout bags from him. "It was a close game, but they pulled it together in the last set and won."
"Oh, good!" You placed the bags onto the table before retrieving some plates and chopsticks from the kitchen.
"How was your day?" he asked as he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek.
You sighed as you thought back on your day. "It was okay," you answered, not really wanting to go into much more detail than that. You doubted Keishin wanted to hear about your minuscule problems with rude customers after the long day he had clearly had.
Keishin, however, picked up on your uncertainty right away. "Doesn't sound okay," he commented. "Want to talk about it?"
You shrugged. "Just some shitty customers. Seems I had forgotten how poorly low-level workers are treated sometimes . . . just threw me a little," you said. "I'll be fine. Just glad the day is over now."
"You and me both." He flashed a smile as he turned to head for the bedroom. "I'm just going to change quickly and then we'll eat."
"Sounds good." You started dishing out some of the food. "I was also thinking we could watch a movie tonight as well. I could use something to clear my mind."
"Sitting on the couch with a beer is an ideal evening in my book," you heard him respond faintly from the bedroom. "There's a new action movie that came out. I think it's about-"
You waited for Keishin to finish his sentence, but when he didn't, you cocked your head and looked toward the bedroom doorway. Before you had the chance to call out to him, he appeared in the doorway shirtless, eyebrows furrowed and the envelope from the university in his hand.
"W-why do you have that?" you asked, the look on his face upon discovering the letter making your heart drop. "That was in my drawer . . . why were you going through my things?"
"I was looking for my sweater, the one you always steal," he answered. "Y/N . . . what is this?"
Rounding the table and approaching Keishin, you snatched the envelope out of his hand. "That is one of the many reasons why my day today was so shitty."
As you turned to head for the kitchen to toss the envelope in the garbage and rid your life of it, Keishin followed you. "You didn't get in?" he inquired.
You shrugged. "I have no idea. I didn't open it."
As you moved to toss the letter into the trash, Keishin grabbed your wrist and stopped you. "Why are you throwing it out if you didn't open it yet?"
"Because I don't care what it says. I've decided that I'm going to stay here with you and work at the store. This is the life I want . . . the life I get to choose for myself."
"You should still open it," he reasoned. "You might change how you feel about it when you see the result."
"I don't want to change how I feel about it." You shook your head as you gently pried your wrist out of his grip. "No need to make things more difficult than they need to be. I've had enough difficulty for one lifetime, thank you very much. This decision is easy, and best of all, it makes me happy."
Gesturing to the envelope, Keishin sighed. "But this is what you wanted. When you told me about your dream to play soccer at the University of Tokyo, your face lit up. Why are giving up on your dream before you've even given yourself a chance to experience it?"
"Dreams can change, Keishin," you told him before sighing and deciding to humour him for a moment. "Okay, let's say I open this letter and somehow did get in. What then? I couldn't pay for that school in my wildest dreams; not without my parents' help. Sometimes dreams are just childish and unrealistic. So I found a new dream, one with us living here together."
"You could apply for student loans. Tons of people do." He folded his arms across his chest. "I don't think this is about the money or your parents. I think this is about us. You've gotten comfortable here."
Throwing your hands up into the air in exasperation, you huffed. "And so what if I have? Is that really so bad?"
"I just don't want you to throw away an opportunity like this over me."
"Over you?" you cocked a brow. "Because you're, what, trash? Not worth it? A lowlife? A burnout?"
Keishin bit at his bottom lip. "You know what's not what I meant."
Inhaling deeply, you glared down at the god-forsaken envelope in your hand and began to tear at the top. "Let's not fight about something that probably isn't even going to happen." You pulled the letter out and unfolded it, your eyes scanning the text quickly. "The University of Tokyo is notoriously difficult to get into and I-"
Keishin quirked a brow when you stopped mid-sentence. "What does it say?"
A broken laugh was the only thing you could manage as you lowered the letter and shook your head. "Un-fucking-believable." You handed the paper over to Keishin, the edge crumpled from where your grip had tightened when you read the decision.
Keishin looked at the page for all of two seconds before he found the bolded 'Congratulations' and a huge grin spread across his face. "You got in!" He was way more excited than you were about this. "This is good news. You can play soccer at the University of Tokyo. Come on, you can't tell me this doesn't make you at least a little happy."
"I wish it did," you answered honestly. "I wish it were that easy."
"It is! It can be." Keishin set the letter down on the counter and took your hands in his. "Student loans, part-time jobs, it's all possible. Sure, it might be a little tricky to work out, but it's totally possible."
When you didn't respond, Keishin hooked his fingers under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. "Accept the spot at the university. Follow your dream," he told you.
". . . but I'll have to leave you." You felt the words catch in your throat and tried your hardest not to start crying. "You make me happy—you're the first thing that's made me genuinely happy in a long time—and I don't want to leave that for a chance at something that might not even work out."
"But what if it does work out? You don't know that it won't," he said softly. "Don't end up like me, looking back at your past and wondering what might have been if you had just chosen a different path. I know this might seem good enough for now, but how will you feel after ten or twenty years of working the same dead-end job for the same shit pay all while getting treated like shit by people who look down on you? Look at how one day of catering to pretentious assholes made you feel. Do you really want to live the rest of your life like that?"
"But what about you?" you asked, your voice shaky.
Keishin dropped his head, a few stray strands of hair falling into his face. Unlike that morning, when he had been asleep with loose hairs in his face, he looked annoyed and frustrated now. The bags under his eyes and tension lines on his forehead were a stark contrast to the soft, peaceful face you had woken up to that morning.
"Don't throw this away over me," he repeated. "Don't throw your future away over a 26-year-old burnout."
Lip quivering, you sucked in a deep breath. "I thought you were different . . . but you're just like everyone else."
Keishin eyed you. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You said I should make my own decisions and live my life how I wanted but it was all a facade." You slipped your hand out of his and took a step back. "In the end, you're just like everyone else . . . you think you have a right to plan my future for me without giving me a say in the matter. You want to tell me how to live my life just like my parents."
"How could you say that?" Keishin almost snapped but managed to collect his anger before he did. "All I want is what's best for you."
You scoffed as you wiped a tear from your cheek. "If I had a penny for every time I've heard that I'd have enough money to pay for the University of Tokyo and then you'd get your damn wish . . . I'd be gone."
"When did I ever say I wanted you gone? Why are you so adamant that going to Tokyo means we can't be together?"
"Why are you so against just letting me make my own decision about this?! Why do I have to go to play soccer at that fucking university and leave you? I don't want to leave you!"
"Why not? Why are you so damn hung up on someone like me?!"
"Because I love you!" The two of you froze in place the second those words left your mouth. Chest heaving from the shouting and high emotions, you snapped your mouth shut before you said anything else in the heat of the moment.
Eyes wide, Keishin stared at you like a deer in headlights. "You what?"
You debated whether or not you should repeat what you had said, but by then, the damage had been done. "I love you," you breathed. "And I know you told me not to fall in love with you . . . but I did. I fell hard and fast and now I'm stuck in you and I cannot possibly leave you so please stop asking me to."
You waited for what felt like an eternity for Keishin to say something, say anything. He opened his mouth a few times like he was about to, but nothing ever came out.
"Keishin . . ." You took a cautious step forward. "Please say something."
Keishin swallowed hard before looking you directly in the eyes. "If I said I didn't love you back, would you go?"
You felt your heart crack and the sensation of being punched in the gut spread throughout your entire body. "Is that what you're saying? You don't love me?"
"If I didn't, would you leave?"
You inhaled sharply. "If you look me in the eyes right now and tell me that you don't feel the same way that I do; that everything over the past few months has meant nothing to you, there would be no possible way I could stay in Miyagi," you answered truthfully. "If you tell me that you don't love me and that you never have, I would have no reason to stay in this prefecture."
Keishin's lips parted once more. "Y/N . . . I-" His brown eyes locked onto yours and you could feel what he was about to say even though he never did. "I . . . I can't do this right now."
With that, he brushed past you, grabbed a sweater from the bedroom and threw it on before storming out of the apartment, leaving you and the now cold takeout food alone.
Tears in your eyes and a lump in your throat, you turned to look over your shoulder at the decision letter sitting on the counter, practically taunting you.
You should have thrown the thing out the second your mom dropped it off. Or better yet, maybe you should have never made that deal with Keishin and applied for the university in the first place.
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mothandpidgeon · 3 years
Text
Extra Credit (Professor!Dave York AU)
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MASTERLIST
Pairing: Professor!Dave York x F Reader
Words: 2865
Rating: VERY E 18+!
Warnings: student/teacher quid pro quo (safe to say this falls under DUB CON so please be careful!!!), spanking, humiliation/degradation, oral sex, orgasm denial, spitting, pussy slapping, biting/marking, p in v sex, Dave York
Summary: With graduation on the horizon, you just have to pass Professor Dave York’s class. But a bad choice on the final assignment leaves your grades in jeopardy. But he’s willing to give you extra credit if you can follow instructions.
a/n: First off, PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU MIND THE WARNINGS. I did not see myself sharing this kind of stuff but I guess I'm freaky like that.
Second, I’m sorry this has the plot of a bad p*rno but sometimes it be like that. Thanks @pascalslittlebrat, @starlightmornings and @mouthymandalorian for encouraging this. It is filth. And thank you P for the gorgeous moodboard!!!!
Also, here is my assignment for the class. What subject do you think Professor York teaches? I was thinking Political Science. Would love to hear your ideas.
It was hot in the lecture hall, one of those early spring days when the weather decided winter was officially over. You had only a few more weeks until graduation and you were white knuckling to the end.
It had been a tough semester. You had your classes to deal with and your motivation was dipping. It wasn’t entirely your fault. You’d had to take on a full time job on top of your studies. Your shitty little car always seemed to be in the shop and your roommate had turned into a psychopath so you slept with one eye open.
Professor York’s class was the hardest you’d ever taken. You liked his style, his dry sense of humor as he lectured. But he was difficult to please. Most professors let their TAs do their the grading but not him. No matter how hard you worked on your papers, you couldn’t wrestle anything higher than a B- from Professor York.
The TA was handing back your papers, the last assignment for the semester, and he placed yours face down in front of you. There was no grade on it just red pen that spelled out see me after class in tight, neat handwriting. Fuck.
You looked up to see Professor York glowering at you from his spot at the front of the hall. You approached him as the other students filed out. You wished you could share their relief that this class was finally done but you had a knot in your stomach.
“Have a seat,” he said, taking the paper from you and tapping it in his palm.
There was a chair next to the professor’s desk and you sat down putting your bag beside you.
“Thanks, Tyler,” he said, dismissing the TA.
When the lecture hall was empty, Professor York sat behind the desk, eyes skimming your paper.
“I wanted to talk to you about this,” he said.
You nodded, too nervous to try speaking.
“This is some great work. This is the kind of essay that really sticks with you after you read it,” he said. His brown eyes were warm and soft and he sat forward in his chair.
You were dumbfounded, your anxiety quickly washing away.
“That’s probably how I know I already read this,” he said, his features suddenly darkening.
Your stomach plummeted into your feet. You were such an ass, thinking you could get away with it.
“I don’t tolerate plagiarism,” he told you.
With everything that had been going on this semester, you didn’t have it in you to complete this final assignment. It wasn’t like you were going to get a good grade anyway. You’d been so exhausted, you hardly cared if you got caught when you’d handed it in. But now that you had to face Professor York, you were kicking yourself.
“I find it highly disrespectful that you would try and pass this off as your work. You know you can be expelled for this?” he asked.
“I’m sorry,” you choked out. “I’ve just had so much work to do-“
“I’m not interested in excuses,” he snapped.
You shut your mouth and felt tears bite at your eyes.
“Are you going to cry?” he asked in disgust. “That’s not going to work on me.”
“Professor, if I fail this class I’m not going to graduate. Please. I’ll do anything to just pass,” you said.
“Anything?”
“Anything,” you said. The word sounded so definitive when it left your lips.
Professor York leaned back in his chair, swiping his finger across his lower lip in thought.
“I can give you extra credit but you have to do exactly what I tell you,” he said.
You were so relieved, you nodded breathlessly.
His lips curled into a smile.
“What color panties are you wearing?” He asked.
Your cheeks set on fire but heat also pooled between your legs. “I- what?” You managed.
“Show them to me,” he commanded.
Your whole body flushed and you stared at him, wide eyed. You had to be dreaming. You’d always found Professor York sexy with that grin and his deep voice but he wouldn’t- this wasn’t happening.
“Do you want extra credit or do you want me to give this paper to your advisor?” He asked, his tone suddenly harsh.
You swallowed hard. Why did his words send a shiver down your spine? You picked up the hem of your skirt and lifted it so Professor York could see between your legs. You looked away, blushing deeply.
He made a guttural noise that made you drop your skirt and clench your thighs together.
“Give them to me,” he said.
Your mouth hung open. He looked completely serious, blinking at you slowly as if this was a casual request. You bit down hard on your lip but finally you relented.
You squirmed out of your panties, being careful that you didn’t give him a show in the process, and placed them in his large, outstretched hand.
He put them to his nose, inhaled, and then squirreled them away in his back pocket, all the while watching you with amusement.
“Stand up. Put your hands on the desk,” he said.
You couldn’t move, sitting there with a gaping mouth. Finally he narrowed his eyes and you did as he said. You put your palms against the table top, aware of the vulnerable way you were leaned over. His eyes moved over your form and he wore the same self-satisfied expression that came when a student asked a stupid question.
Once he was finished admiring your obedience, he stood up and walked behind you. Your heart was pumping wildly as he stepped closer and you could smell his cologne, leather and tobacco.
“I‘ll pass you but I don’t want you thinking you’re getting off easy,” he said.
“Thank you,” you said.
He chuckled and your breath caught. You felt him lift your skirt up, the fabric skimming over your bare ass, and you gasped. He didn’t touch you but he made a noise of approval that shot through you.
“I’m going to hit you five times,” he said into your ear. “You tell me if it’s too much.”
You nodded without even knowing you were doing it. What the fuck was happening? You were standing in the empty lecture hall, bent over, ass out, and desperate to graduate. You couldn’t believe Professor York’s audacity and yet you were going to let him spank you like you were a little girl. It wasn’t like you had a choice, you told yourself.
Before you could make sense of it, his hand connected with you and you let out a grunt. Were you getting wet? You definitely should not be enjoying this.
He hit you again and this time a moan escaped from you. You clamped your hand over your mouth.
“Hands on the desk,” he commanded.
You put it back down and another strike came against you. The sound of his punishment seemed to be echoing off the walls of the empty room.
He pulled your hips into him to steady you as he went on. You loved the feeling of his arm wrapped around your middle, holding you firm.
When he was finished, you were nearly shaking, your pulse quick and your lips parted. You were still reeling not least of all due to the fact that you wanted more.
“Good girl,” Professor York purred smoothing his hand over the spot he’d turned red. His fingers dipped between your legs to feel the slick on your lips. “You’re not going to learn your lesson if you’re enjoying this.”
He came up right behind you so he could wrap his hand around your front and stroke at you. You were thankful your palms were braced against the desk because your knees nearly gave out.
“Professor,” you tried.
“Did I say you could speak?” he asked, a hand gripping your hair.
“What if someone comes in?” Your voice shook.
“Then you’ll have to tell them why you’re failing my class,” he said and continued to play his fingers between your legs.
You whimpered. You could feel his hard length through his pants pressed into the tender flesh of your ass. Your head spun. You knew how fucked up this was but you didn’t want it to end. Professor York’s fingers circled you expertly and you felt like you were melting in his hands. You forgot everything— the circumstances that lead you to this moment, that this was your teacher, that you were exposed in public. Nothing existed except for your pleasure building and building.
As the sensation mounted in you, you began to buck against his hand.
“Are you close?” he asked.
“Yes,” you moaned.
“Good,” he replied and suddenly, his hand was gone.
You cried out in desperation. You clenched at nothing, left at the precipice with no relief. You were throbbing almost painfully. Professor York caught your chin in one of his hands, squeezing your face and wrenching your head around to look at him.
“Do you deserve to cum?” he asked.
You thought you might actually cry between your need for his touch and the fear his voice instilled in you.
“Answer me,” he demanded.
You shook your head.
“No,” he confirmed.
He loosened his grip on you and, for the briefest moment that softness returned to his eyes. You looked at him, eyes glassy and practically drooling, wishing he would touch you again.
“Needy girl,” he chided. “On your knees.”
He pulled you to your feet by the back of your skirt and you got down, bare knees and shins on the tile floor. You gazed up at him, still a little nervous, still pulsing between your thighs.
Professor York undid a few of the buttons of your shirt and skimmed his knuckle across your breast with a hum.
“Maybe I should take this too. Matching set,” he said. He snapped your bra strap which made you jump. “Off.”
He palmed the bulge in his pants as he watched you remove your shirt and unhook your bra. He squeezed one of your tits and pinched your pebbled nipple until you flinched.
“You want to pass?” he asked you, repeating the motion on the other side.
You nodded and he arched an eyebrow.
“Yes,” you said.
“You want to please me?” Now his hand ran gently along your jawline.
“Yes,” you breathed. You’d been trying all this time, studying hard, staying up all night to perfect your papers. Now you had a new goal in mind though you were afraid it was just as unattainable.
“Open your mouth,” he instructed and when you did he spit into it. “Don’t swallow that.”
You stayed like that, with your mouth open as he released himself from his pants. There was a dark patch on his boxer briefs stained by precum. You watched him wildly as he pulled at himself and a glistening bead appeared at his tip. Saliva, yours or his, was dribbling out of the corners of your mouth, dripping on your hard nipples.
“Don’t you look pretty. I hope you can suck cock better than you write papers,” he mocked.
For some reason this was what made your eyes pop. You asked yourself if you were really going to suck off your professor for a good grade. As if you hadn’t just handed him your panties. As if you hadn’t just let him smack your ass. As if your thighs weren’t drenched with your own slick.
He approached you, still stroking himself and you were jealous. You wanted that friction on yourself, were dying for more.
You didn’t have to be told what to do. You wrapped your wet lips around his thick length and your tongue swirled around him.
“Eyes on me,” he demanded.
You looked up at him, and grasped his shaft in your hand as you sunk your mouth around him as far as you could go. Your saliva dripped down his cock pooling in your fist.
“Fuck,” he said.
That word excited you. You kept going, watching him try to keep his eyes open as you surrounded him. The noise of your lips on him was almost disgusting, wet and squelching, and yet it was driving you insane. You clenched your core for some kind of relief that wouldn’t come.
He thrust deeper into your mouth and you tried to take him in but gagged. You pulled away, his cock bouncing out of your mouth and you coughed.
“Good girl,” he said. “Look at you trying to earn that extra credit.”
Tears stung in your eyes as you tried to recover.
“You still want to cum?” he asked, one hand pumping himself slowly.
You nodded timidly. More than anything in the fucking world. But you didn’t want to seem too eager, aware that he was ready at any moment to rescind the offer.
“Sit on the desk,” he said and you did. “Greedy little brat.”
Professor York slid your skirt up your thighs and that sensation alone felt erotic. He inserted two fingers into your mouth and you sucked them hungrily while he grinned.
He slid them across your folds and you were already so sensitive your back arched. He surprised you by getting down on his knees, opening your legs and throwing your thighs over his shoulders. You leaned back on your hands, laid out across the desk, fully on display.
You heard a noise in the hallway and gasped, your head snapping towards the door. But your attention was immediately drawn back to Professor York when you felt him smack you between the legs.
“Do you want to cum or not?”
“Please,” you begged.
He gave you a dark smile and then began nipping at the inside of your thighs. When he got closer to your center, he bit and sucked hard. You let out a breath, a mix of pleasure and pain.
“When you think about this later, I want you to touch yourself and look at this,” he said, swiping the pad of his thumb over the welt he’d just left there.
You let out a shuddering breath and he began to nibble at your clit between his lips. When your hand automatically shot into his hair, he grabbed you by the wrist and removed it, holding your palm against the desk. His tongue lavished you, churning you into a frenzy, and it didn’t take long before you were back where you’d been before. You were panting and grinding your hips into him.
This time he let you hit your high and you trembled and thrashed as he worked at you. It felt like you’d been wiped out by a wave, not being able to sense up from down. You were mewling and shaking when you finally begged him to stop, overwhelmed and cloyed.
He stood and wiped you from his chin and then said, “I’m going to fuck you now.”
You nodded frantically. He pushed into you and you were sure he could feel you still fluttering around him. You were wetter than you could ever remember but still he was difficult for you to take and you inhaled sharply. He didn’t seem to care, snapping his hips into you and grunting, one hand balling your skirt in his fist against you. Soon, though, you were lost in the sensation of his thrusts.
You didn’t even realize that you were whining loudly as he fucked you, your head thrown back in ecstasy. Professor York took your panties from his pocket and shoved them in your mouth to stifle your cries.
“You’re going to have to quiet down,” he rasped.
You whimpered against the fabric in your mouth and he smiled wickedly. He put his hand around the back of your neck to draw you in closer and he pressed into you faster and faster. He pulled out and you heard your own muffled moan at the loss of him. He worked at himself, spilling over your thigh and on your skirt with a groan.
Both of you took a moment to catch your breath and you watched as the professor leaned over you on his hands, swallowed, and then stood up, as composed as ever. He laughed quietly to himself as he took the panties out of your mouth and smoothed his hair.
“Put your clothes on. I have another class to get to,” he said, handing you a handkerchief and zipping himself up. He slid your panties back in his pocket.
You felt shaky on your feet after you’d mopped up his spend. You got dressed wondering how you were going to get through the rest of the day commando, with a ruined skirt, and the remnants of your professor’s cum drying onto your skin. He didn’t say anything else. You hooked your bag over your shoulder and Professor York looked you up and down one last time. He handed you back your essay. It was soaked through down the middle and you realized you’d been sitting on it on the desk. At the top was a new note in red pen: see me after graduation and his phone number.
You got an A.
-----
tagging some folks: @pascalslittlebrat @mouthymandalorian @starlightmornings @purplepascal042 @originallaura @cheekygeek05 @fangirl-316 @fairytale07 @tuskens-mando @rosiefridayrogersunday @a-skov @skulliebythesea @oceanablue @rebel-soldat @goddessinwolfskin @stevie75 @yespolkadotkitty @danniburgh @221bshrlocked
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bitchesgetriches · 3 years
Note
Hi bitches, I'm a bit nervous to ask this but I'm being genuine I promise. I don't want you to think I'm some biggoted old fool.
Could you please help me understand how sex work isn't exploitative? I hear a lot of people saying "it's just the same as normal work, it's better than my job at Amazon/target/wherever and no one is calling that work exploitative" or "well you wouldn't do YOUR job if you didn't have to either" but like, checkout work IS hella exploitative??? Most work IS hella bullshit that only exists to feed the capitalist machine. I DO fight for a world where work is a choice. I understand why The Right would love onlyfans, but why is The Left lining up to defend it?
Sex work - especially things like onlyfans - is overwhelmingly done by the poor or as a way to escape poverty ("I was being paid shit in my previous job, now I can afford an apartment" is something I hear a lot). But in doing so it transfers all the risks to them, it's essentially turning sex work into the gig/hustle economy, isn't it? You end up on a zero hour contract with no union, health, benefit, maternity protection, in a job that can be hella dangerous and have serious emotional repercussions and requires huge emotional labour and/or disconnect and I don't really understand why we're just cheering this along?
I don't object on moral grounds. Sex is sex. Consenting adults do what you want. People are well within their moral and legal rights to choose to sell sex, (or the emotional labour that comes with it), or photos, or whatever they want - just like they are free to go work for target. I absolutely understand the need to - and support - decriminalisation of sex work, the need to make it safe and secure for sex workers, but I just can't see why ~the world at large~ sees huge numbers of young 18 year old women being herded and encouraged into joining Onlyfans - in several cases with people saying "can't wait for you to turn 18 so you can have an OF" so the patriarchy can pay £3-4 a month to see their tits and people cheer this along? One or two get rich, I'm sure, but who is getting REALLY rich? It's the old white men that own onlyfans and take a 20% cut, as always. It's the patriarchy working as it always has. Allowing one or two women to succeed while holding the rest down for exploitation. Except now it's mixing with the worst bits of 21st C capitalism, too. Surely all OnlyFans is is Uber for Sex work, using the gig economy to de-unionise and isolate workers, strip them of benefits, make them into independent contractors and profit off them?
Sure, it's a step up from kidnapping girls from Romania to have them do porn, but is that really the bar? Can we maybe just stop for a second and imagine a world where rich white men don't get richer off the emotional and physical labour of women? Where the other available work options aren't so shit that a zero-hour career with no employment protections, a limited lifespan, in a dangerous industry doesnt look like heaven in comparison? Sure, you can work for three years, sell your emotional labour, and pay for college. But why are we cheering that instead of asking why this has to happen in the first place? We're fiddling around the edges of the system, giving it a makeover, and rebadging it "female empowerment" instead of actually changing anything fundamental. Poor women sell sex. A few are allowed to break out. Men get to leer at naked women for pennies a year. Rich men get richer. Plus ça change. Not even to mention that because of the ~emotional~ connection that onlyfans gives beyond porn, we're embedding the idea that women are "money in, girlfriend out" machines. I know several girls that won't even *talk* to men in any situation without a minimum $50 fee. And apparently the fact we also have a crisis of men so lonely they're willing to pay this isn't a problem either? Where's our luxury communism dreams bitches?
Bitches, I trust you. What am I missing?
I don’t think you’re a bigoted old fool. Nor a prude! I think you’re incredibly enlightened about the dangers of unfettered capitalism and labor exploitation.
Almost all of the issues you highlight about exploitative sex work can be said about exploitative labor in any industry. Poor people taking shitty jobs that don’t pay enough and enrich capitalist, patriarchal corporate overlords? That happens all over the world in industries from meat packing to clothing sweat shops to, yes, sex work. The exploitation of a person’s body for labor is an ethical stain on our culture at large. It’s why we’re so in favor of labor rights advances including a higher minimum wage, unions, and humane work environments. 
Raising the Minimum Wage Would Make Our Lives Better 
Are Unions Good or Bad? 
Coronavirus Reveals America’s Pre-existing Conditions, Part 1: Healthcare, Housing, and Labor Rights 
Sex work is not unique in that it opens desperate and poor people up to labor exploitation. It’s not even uniquely dangerous to the bodies of workers--John Oliver did a bit on the US meat packing industry recently that made me faint with body horror. 
So we agree that labor exploitation is bad. And it’s something that we should work towards ending in every industry. But I can see why some people would view exploitative sex work to be a different kind of bad. Because sex is sensitive! It can be used to punish and hurt. See revenge porn and the way synonyms for “sex worker” are stigmatized and used as insults throughout society. 
Now, a few clarifications. When I refer to sex work, I’m not just talking about cam work on OnlyFans. There are lots of other outlets for many different kinds of sex work. And I’m also not just talking about women sex workers. People of all gender identities and sexualities do sex work, and we should advocate for fair labor practices and safety for all of them. I am firmly pro- decriminalizing sex work so that the industry can be made safe, regulated, and destigmatized in an effort to reduce exploitation. I want sex workers to have the power of collective bargaining! I want them to be protected by law enforcement and our justice system, instead of targeted by it! I want them to pay taxes and have the privileges associated with all tax paying workers! I want them to have the power and protection of a regulatory industry that will purge abusive and violent clients from their field!
I also disagree with the characterization that choosing sex work freely, even out of desperation, is a “step up from kidnapping a girl from Romania to have them do porn.” Human trafficking is not sex work. It’s slavery and torture. Even when the choice is between making $7.25 an hour working at WalMart and making $7.25 as a cam girl, there’s still a choice involved, even if it’s a shitty one. There’s consent. Trafficking victims have no choice, no consent, only violence. 
I honestly don’t want to start a debate here. We’re all on the same page that labor exploitation is bad. So I’ll just end with this: not all sex work is inherently exploitative. Which I guess is your real question!
I’ve mentioned before that I have friends who are former sex workers. Specifically strippers and a specialty dominatrix. As with any job, they had their ups and downs, their good nights and bad nights. But they all agree that they freely chose the work not out of desperation or a lack of other options. And they even enjoyed the work in some cases. If someone prefers sex work, thrives in giving that emotional labor to others, I’m not going to judge and I’m certainly not going to tell them they’re being exploited. It would frankly be insulting, condescending, to tell someone that their choice of work (when it truly is a choice) is bad for them. 
It’s a fine line, but the line does exist. Sex work CAN BE exploitative. But it is not inherently exploitative, as far as I’m concerned. 
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bangchanswolfpelt · 3 years
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For the record, to the sort-of-triggered anon, if I don't like some kind of kink and it is clearly marked, I don't read it. Or if it isn't clearly marked and I'm reading and it starts going a way that I don't like, I just stop reading and go distract myself. I don't go and play moral police with the person who wrote it. It's not my job.
These things are, repeat after me, FICTIONAL. It's not as if they're plastered on some news site and claiming to be true.
As a mostly straight female and only child, from the ages of about 8 to 14 there was a good amount of experimentation of some stuff with a first cousin who was kind of like a brother, we were very close. Neither of us had siblings and therefore we experimented with each other, but if we had had siblings or close friends of the opposite gender (we were both straight) we probably would have experimented with them. Neither of us is mentally ill or in unhealthy relationships as a result of what we did in our pre-adolescent and adolescent years. We're healthy, well-functioning adults, we have friends, normal jobs and normal hobbies. Not to say we haven't experienced hardships or poor mental states like most people do in their lifetimes, just none of them had anything to do with our horny shenanigans from like 10 years before.
This is for everyone out there, but if you're curious what kind of sexual behaviours are normal or not normal for children and young people up to the age of 17, search "Brook Traffic Light Tool". This is a tool often used by social workers and other professionals to identify and risk assess different sexual behaviours in children and young people under 18. If you're too lazy to search, an example of the tool can be found here.
Incest could be considered a red flag behaviour in a person who is aged 13-17, but nowhere has it been specified that shittybrother!Gyu is underage, if we had to get technical. And even if he were written as underage - don't like, don't read. It's FICTIONAL.
Also babe, I'm sorry that you're not feeling well! I hope you feel better soon 😙 I can make you some nice soup to make you feel better 💕
i've already told you this, but it's worth repeating over and over and over again—i really appreciate your openness and honesty, and also the fact that you've gone out of your way to share an actually useful resource with us all💕 soup would be lovely, but i don't think it would survive the trip here, and talking to you is enough to make me feel loads better anyways💕💕💕 (me being under the weather isn't even that big a deal, i just have a trashfire for an immune system 😂)
also, re: brother!Gyu, i've been deliberately keeping ages vague just to make reader easier to identify with (because so much other stuff is being specified 😭). i've definitely been writing both versions of him (younger and older) thinking that he and reader are both in the range of 18-25, mainly because i figured that roughly-college-age is a nice place where they're simultaneously young enough to have very bad ideas and old enough to have the freedom to actually follow through with them; any younger, and the stuff they get away with makes less sense, but any older, and the whole shitty-skater-dirtbag-in-a-garage-band deal that Gyu has going on just doesn't work. this certainly isn't to save us from a 'red light' situation, though; i'm a little too soft to write them as toxic as they could/should be, but reader and Gyu wouldn't have a healthy relationship no matter when they started fucking. 😂
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Hey momdad. It's my birthday. I haven't slept, and I don't have any messages, and it's dumb to care. But mostly it just makes me feel like a failure. I know this year has been hell for everyone, but I feel like... ugh. I quit a toxic job, then wound up having to move back in with my parents. Each thing I get excited about something gets in the way. I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm a year older, and I've gone backwards, and it feels shitty.
hey, sweetheart, i’m so sorry you’ve had such a shitty night and a shitty year. it’s not stupid to care, or to feel bad after everything. you’re really going through some awful stuff, and it makes complete sense to feel bad when all of that compounds on a lonely night when you feel like nobody cares about you.
look, i’m gonna give you some birthday wisdom, alright? some years of your life serve as nothing but bridges. they have no purpose except for you to get to what’s on the other side. some years, you don’t make progress, you don’t succeed, you don’t live life to the fullest, you don’t make the best, all you do is survive to the next year, because important things are waiting in that next year.
life is not about building up and up and up, year after year, at least not for most people. for most people, you try to build something and you fail. you start again, and get it halfway built and then it crumbles. you build something successfully for twenty-five years and then one day it’s all gone. 
is that scary and discouraging, does it make you feel like giving up before you start? of course. life is terrifying and frustrating and offers no guarantees. but the upside is that you are no unique failure among a sea of effortless successes. everybody is going to fail at some point. everybody is going to take one step forward and then two steps back. everybody has nights where everything seems shitty and miserable. in this low moment, you are anything but alone.
we get way too brainwashed into believing that, firstly, success only looks one way, and secondly, that it’s our fault if we don’t achieve it. it’s capitalism that tells you that you must live by yourself and have a good job, and then it’s also capitalism that makes that impossible and sends you back home. 
not to derail the conversation, but to deal with my own mental illness i’ve recently been watching a lot of calming videos of people gardening and cooking in rural china, and it’s really struck me as an american how all the people i’ve seen live in multi-generational households. it’s normal and expected for young adults to live in the same home as their parents and grandparents. some of them leave to work in the city, but some also stay and the only ‘job’ they have is farming and cooking for their family - which is difficult work, to be sure, but it’s far from what’s expected in the west. 
isn’t it so incredibly fucked up that we kick kids out at 18, after years of them being treated like children and never being taught how to live on their own, and we expect them to just know how to survive and be adults without any help or support? that’s so stupid. there’s no fucking reason you shouldn’t live with your parents for as long as that makes sense for you. capitalism just wants us to buy more things and pay more rent.
listen to me, honey. you quit a toxic job, and that’s honestly a great achievement. escaping a toxic environment is always something to be proud of. you made the right choice by moving home to regroup and figure out what you’re going to do next. and most importantly, you didn’t die from the plague. merciless capitalist brainwashing is the only thing that makes you think you should have done more in a year like 2020. 
it is completely valid for you to feel shitty and frustrated that things haven’t worked out the way you wanted them to. it makes sense that you feel sad that it’s your birthday and you haven’t gotten and messages yet. but the expectations you’ve placed on yourself are too fucking high, okay? you’re still young, and it’s normal for it take years to figure out what you’re doing with your life. it’s normal for your life to suddenly take an entirely different course than what you had planned.
and here’s one last piece of wisdom for you: nobody knows what they’re doing. all of us are born screaming into this weird, frightening life, and none of use are given a guidebook that tells us what to do with it. all of us are just figuring it out as we go and faking it as best as we can. 
now, i want you to sleep, i want you to reach out to some friends today even if they haven’t reached out to you first - they are probably wrapped up in their own stuff and forgot, that doesn’t mean they don’t love you - and i want you to eat some cake and give yourself a fucking break, okay? you’re going to be alright.
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botwstoriesandsuch · 3 years
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hey, I saw you play a keyboard (amazing compositions btw legit thought they were actual nintendo ngl), when did you start? I'm a noob, so any suggestions on hand independence? How long did it take you? (and yes I know everyone is different but still 👉 👈👉 👈👉 👈👉 👈👉 👈
But also I kinda still don’t know what I’m doing because while it’s nice and all to play the piano, I don’t know SHIT about advanced music theory which is kinda important for making music. Like I know my staccatos and vibratos and tacos and concert band terms, but fucking beats me what you pair an F minor seven chord to. What the fuck is a relative key...A major? More like a major failure amiright
Luckliy I didn’t really make music for a long time so it didn’t really matter...that was until a little game came along in 2015, you may have heard of it, or maybe you haven’t, it’s called Undertale? Yeah kinda a niche game, but anyhow I was pretty hooked on that game and I was like “hey, music tho...do be boppin.” So I learned all the songs, and I followed all the tumblr fandom blogs. And there was this one fancomic that I really liked and I was like “hey......I got a cool little idea” and I sat at my keyboard and fucked around until a thing sounded good. That’s not even me joking or exaggerating. I, a like 13 year old kid, just kinda played some notes together until something sounded decent. And thus was my very first song, which was THIS babam
THIS piece of shit somehow actually got the attention of one of the mods for that Undertale webcomic?? And they were like "hey that's really nice!" and obviously with the benefit of hindsight we all know that was a lie, but I in my eager, powerhungry, 13 year old state accepted the compliment and absorbed it into my ego forever. I spent WEEKS on this piece of shit, I even made shitty trace art...so if some random stranger that ran a tumblr blog/VA twitter said that I did an amazing job, then god fucking dammit I am an amazing composer.
So yeah after that I just kinda....did it. I LIKE TO THINK I IMPROVED FROM THAT PIECE OF CRAP but hey who knows. You just kinda gotta....play those funky little notes, I still haven't taken a music theory class and hey, I'm turning out well enough. *dabs* Hand independance.....can't relate to the struggle, ask 7 year old me and get gud kid. (OK BUT ACTUALLY, are you right handed or left handed? so just play a fancy little melody with one hand, then practice playing it with BOTH hands on different octives. It's easier than just immediately going to a different hand because your brain is wired to like...connect your fingers or something. So then when you can play your little melody with both hands, then switch entirely to the non-dominant hand and practice that till it's perfect. Then babam, you did a thing. And that's under the assumption that your dominant hand is all powerful and can play whatever. Also just....practice. Just gotta practice practice practice. It's chiche, but that's how it works. It's easier to practice if you got a hyperfixation on a certain fandom that is famous for its good music.)
Ok so LONG STORY SHORT. 1) I was four. 2) Get gud and practice. 3) I guess...2015,,minus 2020,,or wait no skip 17 and 18 i didn't do anything that year....like 3-4 years??? Dont let that scare you, I made a total of 4 songs over that period, and most of my actually good shit that I actually took seriously I only made in 2020, so I guess it's really more like 1.5 years. And hell it'll probably be faster if you actually know what goes on with notes, cause again, I just compose based on vibes and feelings, I don't know jackshit on the technical chord shit or whatever. One might note that all my shit lacks complicated chord progressions and instead relies on triplet and arpeggio movements....
Oh ALSO two more things. Forget about melody. Fuck the melody. You want a fancy catch tune? FORGET IT. The only thing that matters is the harmony and background that's it, pour your heart and soul into that first and then you can place whatever bullshit tune you want on top of that and it'll sound 600% better I promise. Then ALSO ALSO, just watch a bunch of youtube videos about people analyzing and gushing and critiquing other music, sepcifically music that your passionate about like maybe video game ost for example. Cause when you enjoy the thingy then you're eventually gonna learn stuff and then do stuff you know? That's why I don't suck as much as I should at composing, and also the similar method for how I learn literally anything else, like writing. Ok long post done.
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greycappedjester · 3 years
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Hi I'm so sorry I'm just too shy to ask this on ao3 but I was wondering: how is Slade's relationship with Dick? I don't mind them as a ship in general but in the story sometimes I feel like Slade gets too close to Dick and I thought if there was something platonic on his side? I'm sure you wouldn't do that in the story that's why I'm asking if it's only on Slade's side. Sorry if this is a stupid question lol. Maybe it's just because I've read sl/adedick fics before. ^^D
Nah, I’ve actually been waiting for someone to ask about that. So....it’s complicated and will take awhile to explain so I’m putting it under a Read More before I get too long winded with my character headcanons:
This is going to get soooooo long, lol, so feel free to skim. Warning for Gotham in general and Gotham being naturally a bad place for kid vigilantes to grow up in. Also because this explanation gets somewhat dark in character interpretation....
Bonus short story at the end after a really long post.
-------
Alright, so first, I feel like I should mention again that I never watched the Teen Titans animated show past maybe the first two episodes and the movie my friends wanted me to watch that I don’t really remember. (I meant to watch that show, just never got around to it). I say this because I heard that the Teen Titans TV show portrayed the Dick and Deathstroke relationship much differently in a way that’s cool and fine but not something I can see myself really wanting to write about. I know their relationship more from comics where Dick was already an adult (albeit a young adult) when he first met Slade. 
So. Back to my After the Fall of Olympus universe and yeah, I’m slowly getting to my answer. The thing is....the story is entirely in Dick’s POV right now.
And Dick’s absolutely terrible at reading and picking up any form of affection others have for him. He understands it abstractly (he knows people care) but when assessing, he critically underestimates it if he remembers to account for it at all. This goes even worse with people he’s closer to--which is why it took him forever to realize why Jason actually did want to stay with him at the manor and why he still has no idea Barbara is in love with him. Even Kory who was really, really direct about liking him, it took him years to fully emotionally process and respond to that. He’s getting better...but remembering his own value (in others eyes) isn’t something he’s overwhelming good at doing.
My headcanon, he is abnormally good at reading people and picking up basic sexual attraction. He’s good at telling when he’s being flirted with or when people are attracted to him and, honestly, Dick’s charismatic and instinctively a flirt, too.With that, partly from growing up in Gotham with its weird and supremely dark villains, I think Dick very much divorces the two concepts of romantic attraction and sexual flirting in his mind--he’s aware they can go together, obviously with Kory--but he doesn’t naturally pair them as other people probably would. It’s also part of why he just doesn’t get the level of concern Tim has about Catalina.
Okay, back to my point.
The way I write Slade and Dick’s relationship is actually mostly done off screen. But, I think Slade started with approval of Dick’s skills and potential in a clinical/objective view, growing respect and interest (personal but not at all romantic) in him as a person, and much more recently in the story (as in that last conversation he had in Ch. 18), I think Slade realized he has some legitimate attraction and cares a lot about Dick in a way that’s probably romantic.
Slade also is very, very aware immediately that he’s not going to do anything with that and, in a way, doesn’t want to because Dick ever responding to that would be jeopardizing his relationship with his family, his team, his view of his morals (which are so integral to Dick) in a way that would be exceptionally out of character and concerning coming from Dick. In other words, something happening would be a lot more terrifying than nothing happening and Slade cares.
For Dick, it’s a lot more simple. He does not have any romantic feelings there. He does in a somewhat analytical, unconscious way recognize that Slade’s probably attracted to him (probably before Slade noticed honestly) but he’s....well, kind of used to that at some level. More so, Dick doesn’t connect it to emotional care and--like with everyone else--vastly underestimates that Slade does care about him in a way that’s actually pretty selfless for a mercenary. For a romance, your guess is absolutely right, it’s not going to go anywhere in this series but I wanted the undertones and implications to be there in the final third of the story
....But, that’s also more of a later/recent development in that relationship. For most of the story that’s posted so far, Slade sees his relationship with Dick as a lot of respect and even care but not as romantic in any way. I can promise no romantic undertones at all until Dick was already in his 20s because I really, really am not interested in writing underage. (for those curious about Slade’s age in the story, I think of him as mid-20s in his introduction in Year 3 and pretty early 30s here to Dick’s early 20s)
Above everything, they respect each other and would be almost friends if that were possible.
The team and his family doesn’t know any of this.
Anyway, that was long, so here’s a bonus short story from Slade’s view. I write a lot of After the Fall of Olympus short stories in other charcter’s views that I’m not planning on posting until After the Fall of Olympus.
This one’s between Year 5 and 6 and is titled “October 7th”:
-------
It’s October 7th, almost two in the morning, and Slade’s camped out in a somehow still standing bombed out apartment in a no-name village in the middle of a war-torn country.
He’s not exactly expecting visitors.
There’s a knock on the apartment door.
Slade cocks his gun and puts two rounds in the door before, for good measure, adding matching ones on either side of the frame.
He has two seconds to let himself pretend that’s the end of it before the door knob turns to the unmistakable sound of a skilled lock pick. 
Fuck, he’s too tired for this shit today. 
“Geeze, Slade, what if I’d been an innocent civilian?”
Slade’s hand stills on the gun in surprise then consideration before slowly slipping it back into the holster. 
“Kid,” he greets. “There’s no innocent civilians left around here. ‘Specially ones that can make it to my door without me hearing any footsteps.”
“I’ve been working on that.” Dick says, walking into the apartment. He isn’t even wearing his uniform, just plain black military style clothes with the lower half of his face covered by a piece of cloth. He pushes it down and smiles as he presses the door shut behind him. “You did tell me to get better, after all.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have,” he mutters without much heat. “You getting better almost left me out of a job.”
Dick rolls his eyes. “Please, as if both of us don’t know Luthor could’ve gotten out of those charges in months. If the Light didn’t erase them for him, anyway.”
Slade shrugs. Maybe another time, he’d find the energy to banter back. But not today. Never today.
“Why are you here, Dick? How’d you find me?”
The smile slides off of Dick’s face, leaving behind those far too heavy eyes to belong to an eighteen year old.
“You know I have your file, Slade.” Dick clears his throat. “I know what day it is.”
….Fuck.
It’s not like he expected anything else. Not since the moment he saw the kid. But, still...he doesn’t want to deal with this. Doesn’t want to deal with anything. Today, he just wants to crawl back into the worst, most deserted corner of the world he can find until the hours creep passed and he can find the energy to move.
Instead, he glares. “Good for you. Now get the fuck out, kid.”
Dick grimaces but shakes his head. “Not until you answer a question for me.”
Slade groans and, for a handful of seconds, honestly contemplates just killing him, considers it in a way that he hasn’t since before he even met the kid, back when he was first handed a file by a practically no name organization called H.I.V.E.
He’d regret it later. Sure. He has too much he wants to see out of the kid to kill him in a shitty, dusty apartment. But, that regret would come later. Later, once this day had finally passed.
That alone is almost enough to have him reaching for his gun. Almost
“Grayson,” he finally grounds out, “if you know what day it is, you know I’m not exactly inclined to play our game of hero and villain right now. You want information, find someone else.”
“Good, I’m not here to play either. Only problem is I can’t ask anyone else, you're the only one who knows the answer.” Dick lowers himself to sit on the floor across from him, like a particularly stupid mouse in front of a viper.
And then, he looks up and his eyes are too steady to belong to prey.
“Here’s the question: Do you really want to be alone today, Slade?”
The breath catches in Slade’s`lungs, harsher than if the kid had just punched him.
He pushes the reaction down, already knowing it’s too late, and says in the steadiest voice he can manage, “Yes.”
Dick stares at him, unmoving. “I don’t believe you.”
The air around them is too tight, too burning, and Slade’s being pushed down under it to suffocate. 
He can’t fight it, so he takes it and pushes it back into anger. “The fuck, kid! What do you know?  You said you have my file, yeah? How long have you had it? Because I’m betting you’ve had it since we first met!” He lunges forward. “So, why are you here now, Dick? What makes this year so special? What’s made you decide to pretend to care now? Because whatever it is, kid, I can promise you, I’m not worth it. So, leave!”
By the end, he’s gripping Dick’s shirt, pulling it tighter until the collar has to be digging painfully into his neck. 
Dick doesn’t look away. “No.”
Slade doesn’t look away either. “You know I really think I might kill you right now.”
“You won’t.”
 One of Slade’s hands moves until it’s pressing into the kid’s neck. A single sharp twist and he could snap it. “So sure?”
Dick nods.
“And why’s that?”
“Because I brought your favorite whiskey.”
A brown bag is pressed into Slade’s ribs and the man feels something rising in his chest that could possibly be laughter if it was some other time.
He drops the kid.
He takes the bag.
“Pretty sure heroes aren’t supposed to be contributing to alcoholism, kid.” He gestures to a half empty bottle of much cheaper stuff beside him.
Dick coughs, rubbing at his throat. “Please. With your metahuman metabolism, I bet you can barely feel it for an hour.”
“Depends how much I drink,” Slade counters, eyeing the bottle. “How’d you know my favorite?”
Dick shrugs. “Gotta keep some secrets to myself.”
He fishes out a spare shot glass from somewhere in the black folds of his outfit and pours a small glass for himself. 
Slade raises an eyebrow. “Last time I checked, you’re still 18, kid.”
Dick gives him an incredulous look in return. “Last time I checked, this place doesn’t have a drinking age...or a government, actually.”
Slade hums, amused, using a larger glass for himself. “True, but thought you’d be following the laws of your own birth city a little closer, hero. Gotham’s still at 21...on the record at least.”
“Technically, Gotham’s not my birth city.” Dick snorts and takes the shot. 
Slade tilts his head. “Where were you born?”
Dick pauses, thinking, before offering a sheepish smile. “You know….I actually have no idea. Somewhere in Europe, probably? I came early, the circus was still on tour. One of the lion tamers helped deliver me, used to be a doctor.”
“Always a surprise, kid,” Slade shakes his head, draining his glass. Tasting it in his mouth and pretending it’s enough to wash away the ash.
The next words come before he can stop them.  “...Adeline always wanted two kids.”
Dick goes quiet.
“Of course,” Slade says to his glass and fuck it, just fuck it,  “turns out we didn’t even get the one. Turns out I didn’t get either my wife or my son.”
Fuck, he hates October 7th.
He reaches for the whiskey, ignoring how his hand shakes. “Addy was a soldier, you know? A good one. Of all the stupid fucking ways she could go, I never thought it’d be childbirth. Maybe I should have. Always knew I’d kill her somehow.”
“You didn’t kill her, Slade,” Dick says softly.
“Sure. Whatever,” he agrees, too tired to argue. It’s not as if he hasn’t heard every variation sometime or another. It’s just right now, he can’t quite bring himself to debate about the cause when the end of it’s always going to be the same.
Dick drops the subject and the relief that Slade feels  is immense enough that it’s close to gratitude.
“What was your son’s name?”
“Grant. We were going to name him Grant.” He takes another sip. “If we had another one, we were going to name him Joseph. Or Rose for a girl.”
“Those are good names.”
He shrugs. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does.”
Slade doesn’t answer, looking up to eye the kid over his drink. Dick sees it, holding up his own glass in acknowledgement before knocking it back.
“Why are you here, kid,” Slade asks again. “We’re not friends, pretty far fucking from it last time I checked.”
“I’ve got my reasons,” he answers calmly.
“If you’re here to make your usual sales pitch about the virtues of heroism, I really will kill you. Whiskey or not.”
Dick shakes his head. “....is it so hard to believe I just didn’t think you should be alone?”
Slade thinks his skepticism is loud enough without him needing the words.
The look Dick gives him is steady in return. “Think what you want to, Slade, I know what grief feels like. It’s a poison. It’ll kill you unless you find a way to drain it.” 
Dick looks down at his own glass and Slade gets the feeling the kid’s no longer talking about just Slade. It’s still a tossup whether he means himself or the Bat.
Either way, Slade makes sure his next smirk is particularly pointed. “And, look at you. Tracking me all the way down here to try and save my tortured soul. Such a hero.”
“Oh, shut up,” Dick says with an eye roll, pouring himself another drink
Slade cocks his head. “Speaking of, don’t all the good little heroes have school right about now.”
Dick looks up, almost sheepish. “I’m ditching my classes. Don’t tell my brothers, I’m still trying to be a good influence.”
Slade snorts and takes a particularly long swig.
A good influence. As if a single one of his stupid, fucking team doesn’t think the fricking sun shines out of the kid’s ass.
Fuck. What is Slade even doing? Sitting in a run down apartment in the middle of a warzone drinking whiskey with a too trusting kid a decade younger and that he probably should have killed years ago.
But, then, it’s always been exceedingly difficult for him to do what he should---what’s the sane and logical thing--when it comes to Dick Grayson. And, one day--when he doesn’t have the burn of booze sitting in his gut and his chest doesn’t ache like he’s been shot--Slade’s going to take a hard look at why that is.
For now, he’ll just leave it like he usually does. The kid’s too interesting to die yet. 
Dick eyes his shot glass, contemplatively. “This whiskey’s way too overpriced, Slade. It’s practically aged vodka.”
Slade finishes his off steadily. “Shows you have little taste, Grayson.”
Dick laughs and slides the bottle over. “I brought another one anyway.”
....Far, far too interesting.
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First, I have to say I'm a big fan of your work! 💖 Second, I was wondering if I could request some prompts for a female character that's devious and crafty but hides her real personality behind an innocent mask please?
You sure can! Also, I love characters like this.
Dialogue Prompts
1) "Would you mind helping me do it? This is way too heavy for me to carry." 2) "I wish I was as smart as you, you always know what to do." 3) "You may have everyone else fooled, but you can't fool me." "I have no idea what you're talking about, I'm just here with my friends." 4) "I know a con artist when I see one, and you? You're a good one. So what can I get you to drink?" "Cherry coke with extra cherries please!" "Alright, and what do you really want me to get you?" "Whiskey neat." "I'll add the cherries anyway since you wanna play innocent." 5) "Wow! That sounds really complicated, I don't think I could do all that." "It's really easy actually, want me to show you how it's done?" "Really? You'll show me?" "Of course, anything for you." 6) "What should I get? I like this one but I really like this one too. I can't get them both, I only have enough for one. Which one do you wanna see me wear?" "Baby, you know you only have to ask, I'll get you both of them." "You don't have to." "I want to, I like spoiling you." 7) "You do that little innocent act in bed?" "Don't talk to me like that." "I'm curious, they eat it all up, right? Just wondering if you're able to keep it going when they take you back to their mansions." "Why do you think they're still with me?" 8) "Look at that, looks like I was right, you're not so innocent after all." "You saw right through me?" "Pretty easily." "The other know?" "You going to kill me if they don't?" 9) "What are we doing here?" "Look at them, so desperate, they're the perfect people to steal from. Desperate and so naive. You and me are going to be rich. Follow my lead." 10) "You really hate me that much that you think I'm capable of doing something like this?" 11) "You really think I'd kill someone, do you really not trust me that much. I thought you said we were friends." 12) "Cut the shit, where'd you really hide the money?" "What money? I really don't know what you're talking about? I'm just Person A's assistant." 13) "How'd you know it was an act?" "Six inch heels aren't exactly what I'd say embodies innocence." 14) "I've been watching you from the side this whole time, playing innocent, playing perfect so you wouldn't notice me watching. You really should be doing background checks on your staff, especially the good looking ones. They've always got something to hide." 15) "Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just incredibly happy to see me again, detective?" "What have you been up to, Person A?" "Following the law like a good abiding citizen." "Uh huh, so I wouldn't find any money in your room or a bag full of wallets or anything?" "Detective B! Are you accusing me of breaking the law? I would never do such a thing." 16) "Watch yourself, Person A, I've got my eyes on you." "Oh yeah, do I look cute from this angle? Or do you prefer to have me in a different angle? Maybe bent over the hood of your squad car?" "How about in a pair of handcuffs thrown in the back?" "Officer B! I never knew you were so kinky!" 17) "I can't talk you out of jumping off the roof can I?" "Afraid not." "You'll die from this height without someone to catch you." "Think I don't have a plan?" "I think you have a death wish." "Oh, detective, don't you know cat burglars always land on their feet?" 18) "I see right through your cutesy act. This one is already mine, I've been working on this for three months. So walk your ass out that door before you fuck this up for me." "Three months? I could have had this guy for everything he owns in a day. You must be a shitty grifter." 19) "There's something about you that tells me you're more than a pretty face." "Oh yeah, what might that be?" "The gun in your pocket." 20) "Can you help me? I'm lost and don't know which way I'm going." "Sure thing, where are you trying to get to after you steal my wallet with this terrible tourist distraction." "Saw right through me, huh?" "Pretty face and clever ruse, but you a terrible actor/actress." "Like you can do it better?" "Watch and learn, amateur."
Regular Prompts
1) A is taught by a mother figure in their life to be polite, look pretty, and keep their mouth shut but ears always open. They're taught to be a good listener and taught to fight if they ever need to. To be more clever and work harder than any man they know, but always seem naive in front of everyone. 2) A's always been good at their job at being a spy until Person B sees right through them with a glance. When they can't stop thinking about them they try their hardest to make them see they're a normal person who's really naive and not manipulative. But B never buys it and tells them they have a tell. A then obsessively thinks about what it could be until they confront B in the night pissed off and clearly tired but very alert. B just tells them they read people for a living an that they're also a spy. 3) A is a con artist who's very good at charming everyone they meet, especially men. They're always racking up tens of thousands of dollars a night going to benefits thrown by millionaires. B is a millionaire who constantly sees them at benefits but never rats them out when they steal. When A chats when them all night they end up really hitting it off and when B's dancing they lean in close and ask if they're really interested in them or if it's the money they like. A doesn't steal from them and tells them they'll give them an answer at the next benefit. (Bonus if they end up falling in love and A teaches B how to steal more and make it look legal like they have.) 4) A is a burglar who seduces men and gets them to take them to art museums and show them all the art pieces and explain them. B is a detective who's been trying to find them for months. 5) A is a good looking model who plays dumb with mobsters and sells information to people for a price. B is a detective hiding undercover in the group who falls for A but can't make a move because they'd be endangering them. (Bonus if they both fall hard for each other.) 6) A is a smart person who acts as arm candy for men in the mafia. A plays dumb around them and lets them self get pampered by men while they're constantly avoiding sex/relationships with anyone. B is one of the members of the mafia who don't fall for A's act and treat them like a member rather than someone who's clueless and naive. 7) A is an actor/actress who can't find work but they manage to use their talents to be a great grifter. B is the one person who catches on fast and decides to recruit them with their gang of grifters and give them a place to call home. 8) A is a con artist who's main goal is to take down Person B who trained them to be great at what they do since they betrayed them. (Bonus if it's a game of cat and mouse for the whole story and the two end up falling hard during the chase. Maybe it even ends with A tricking them to get B to chase them back.) 9) A is always hanging around bad people, playing innocent and getting bad people to want them. Whenever they get them alone they flip the script and go completely bat shit and murder the ones they lure. It isn't until A meets B who tells A that they we're only pretending to be bad to impress them that they begin to do more research and make sure they're more careful with who they lure in with their looks. (Bonus if B is a murderer too and knows A's the one killing and knew exactly what kind of person they were and that's why they were attracted to them.) 10) A is a grifter who meets grifter B trying to score the same thing they are. While competing for it they become aware of the other person's skill and decide they can work together for the same thing and that they'll split it before they part ways. But when the grift is over they're sad to leave each other, especially if they've had some romantic moments, and decide to stay and work on more things together.
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lostinthewiind · 3 years
Text
Piss Off Your Parents - Part 8
Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu
Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.
Rating: PG13
Warnings: none
Song → 18 by Anarbor
Previous → Part 7
Next → Part 9
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Feeling a body shift beside you, you slowly began to wake from your deep, dreamless sleep. With thin rays of sunlight shining through the crack between the curtains, you let a content, sleepy smile toy at the corners of your lips as you rolled over in Keishin's arms and came face to face with his sleeping form.
It had been over a week since you had started staying with Keishin and even though waking up beside someone every morning definitely took some getting used to, you were a little surprised by just how quickly it was beginning to feel normal. Not only that, but you never slept better than you did in Keishin's bed with his warm, calming presence beside you and strong, protective arm draped over your waist.
Eyes closed and lips slightly parted, Keishin was fast asleep. His chest rose and fell rhythmically and at some point during the night, just like every other night, his hair—which wasn't tamed by the headband while he slept—had gotten all messed up and a few strands had fallen into his face.
Whenever you woke up before him, you would always take the chance to just look at him. While he slept, he seemed completely and utterly at peace—no longer burdened by the stress of coaching volleyball, working at the store, and no doubt whatever extra problems you had brought into his life. You thought back to the time you had watched him sleeping on the couch in the back room and sighed happily; the thought of how much things had changed in such a short period of time truly putting things into perspective.
Unable to keep your hands to yourself any longer, you reached out slowly and brushed the loose strands of hair out of his face and tucked them behind his ear—the same way you had done when you two had first had sex and the same way you had done countless times since.
Keishin could sleep through a thunderstorm or the sound of you calling out his name, but as soon as he felt your fingertips graze against his cheek, his eyes fluttered open. Upon noticing he was awake, you made your touch more prominent and caressed his face.
"Good morning," you whispered, unwilling to raise your voice any more than that and ruin the soft ambiance of the early morning.
Keishin leaned into your touch and smiled softly. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing," you answered as you ran your thumb along his bottom lip, internally debating if you should ambush him with kisses now or wait until he had woken up a little more first. Chuckling to yourself over your own thoughts, you caught yourself staring at his lips and directed your gaze back to his eyes. "I'm just looking at you."
Keishin scoffed as he pressed a gentle kiss to your thumb. "Why?"
"Because you look so beautiful when you're asleep," you told him matter-of-factly. "Not that you don't always look beautiful," you added quickly before he could make some sort of sarcastic comment.
Keishin rolled his eyes before pulling you flush against his chest and kissing you. "You're such a sap, you know that?"
You laughed. "First, I'm dramatic. Now I'm a sap. What's next?"
"I have no idea." Keishin shrugged the best he could while lying down. "What I do know, however," he glanced at the clock, "is that we need to get up and get ready."
Following Keishin's gaze to the time, you huffed sadly when you noticed there were only five minutes left until your alarm would go off, forcing you to get ready to open the store. "Can't we just stay in bed all day?" you asked, hoping you could convince him to stay under the covers with you.
"Not unless we want to go broke and end up living under a bridge together."
You chuckled as Keishin crawled out of bed, the temptation of slapping his ass gently when he stood up almost too much but you managed to control yourself. "Together?" You grinned. "You'd stay with me even if we were both dirt poor?"
Keishin rolled his eyes playfully at your takeaway from his statement. "Of course." He collected his clothes before making his way around to your side of the bed and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "But I think I like plumbing and heating too much to give them up, so let's shower and get ready."
Sitting up in bed, you cocked an eyebrow. "You want to shower together?"
Keishin flashed a devilish smirk as he headed for the bathroom. "Purely for the purpose of saving water." He disappeared into the bathroom and seconds later his boxers flew out and landed on the floor, indicating he was completely nude. "But if you hate the planet, then I guess that's on you."
Your cheeks flushed red but nevertheless, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and began removing your clothes as you approached the bathroom. "Sure," you laughed as you closed the bathroom door behind yourself and let your eyes wander over Keishin's wet, naked body as he stood under the steaming water. "If it's for the planet, how could I possibly say no?"
20 minutes of passionate kissing and soapy hands exploring every inch of each other's body later, the two of you towelled off and finished getting ready before sitting down for a quick breakfast together.
"So the volleyball team has a game today, right?" you asked Keishin as you poured milk into your bowl of cereal. Keishin nodded. "What time do you think you will be home?"
Keishin thought for a moment before answering. "Probably around six or seven tonight. The game is right after school so it shouldn't run too late."
"Okay." You sat down across from him at the table. "Should we get dinner after I close up the shop?"
Keishin nodded again. "Sounds like a plan."
With a few more bites of his breakfast, Keishin was setting his dishes in the sink, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head, and rushing down the stairs and out of the building to start his day.
As you listened to his footsteps stomp down the stairs, followed by the sound of the back door opening and closing to indicate that he had left, you sighed to yourself and sat back in your chair. It was then that you took a minute to think about everything; your job, your boyfriend, your living arrangements, your tattered relationship with your parents. In the span of a few months, your life had completely turned upside down, but that wasn't the part that freaked you out the most.
What really got you thinking was the fact that, even though your life had done a complete 180, you had never been happier; which led to the constant internal questioning about if you had ever really been happy before you had met Keishin at all, or if this was just a different kind of happy—a happy that only a stable, supportive significant other could provide.
Before you had the chance to get lost in your thoughts, you snapped out of it, finished your breakfast, and headed downstairs to open the shop and begin your day.
As usual, you dealt with the typical morning rush of people stopping in to grab a coffee or other various food items on their way to work or school. Once the mid-morning slump hit and the customer traffic went way down, you took the time to do some routine cleaning and inventory. By now, you were like a well-oiled machine when it came to the daily task of running the store.
Around noon, as you were finishing up stocking some shelves, the front door opened and a very well-dressed man strolled into the store. "Hello," you greeted him, standing from where you were kneeling in front of the shelves and dusting off your pants.
The man gave you a once over, eyeing you from head to toe. Without so much as an acknowledging nod, he brushed past you and toward the full-length fridges at the back.
Assuming the man just wasn't in a chatty mood, you took the empty boxes to the storage room. When you exited, the man was already standing at the front counter, impatiently tapping his foot while he held two bottles of water in his hands.
"Sorry for the wait," you apologized. "Just the waters today?"
The man just nodded and let out a grunt.
Trying not to take his dismissive attitude too seriously, you rang up his purchases and gave him the total. Instead of pulling out his wallet, however, he just gave you a dirty look.
"That's a little expensive for two bottles of water, don't you think?" he retorted.
You didn't know what to say to that, so you shrugged. "I'm sorry, I don't make the prices, sir," you told him. "I just work here."
Huffing loudly, the man fished his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out some bills before tossing them haphazardly onto the counter. "Fine. Don't forget my change."
Before you could open the cash register, the front doors opened again and a woman dressed in a beautiful dress with her hair done up elegantly walked in and stopped beside the man before you. "Have you paid yet?" she asked the man, who was either her boyfriend or husband based on the way she was hanging off of his arm. "I just realized I'm out of cigarettes."
"I'm just paying now," he told her, his face softer than you had seen it yet before he turned back to you and asked for the brand of cigarettes that his partner smoked.
Spinning around, you felt your stomach twist at the sight of the empty dispenser of cigarettes, meaning that you were out of the brand he had requested. Of course, the delivery for that day hadn't come in yet, making your job even harder right now.
Plastering the warmest smile on your face that you could muster, you turned back to the couple. "I apologize, but we are all out of that brand. Can I get you something else?"
The woman rolled her eyes. "No, everything else tastes like garbage."
"I see." You stepped back up to the cash register. "So just the waters then?"
The man nodded. "I guess so if your shitty little store doesn't even stock up on popular brands of cigarettes." He watched you intently as you opened the register and counted his change. "I knew we should have stopped somewhere other than this hole in the wall."
As much as you so desperately wanted to rip this man and his spoiled girlfriend a new one, you bit your tongue instead and grinned as you handed him back his change. "Here you are." You dropped the coins into his outstretched hand. "Have a wonderful day."
Neither one of them said anything in response as they turned on their heels and marched out of the store, noses turned up at everything around them. As you watched them get into their fancy car and speed away, you wondered if they treated everyone like that or just lowly corner store workers like yourself.
Trying to let the incident slide off of you like water off of a duck's back, you returned to the remaining tasks on your to-do list and tried to forget all about being treated like a second-class citizen.
As the day turned to late afternoon and the after-school and after-work rush hit, you had found your way back into your groove again.
An hour or so before closing time, and roughly around the time Keishin would be returning, you heard a pair of heels clacking against the tile floor and stood up front behind the counter only to come face-to-face with your mother. Dressed in a pencil skirt and blouse, it was obvious she had just come from work, but your attention was more focused on the envelope she was holding out to you.
"This came for you the other day." She didn't even bother with a simple greeting even though it had been weeks since you had seen or spoken to her or your father.
"Oh, okay." You reached out and took the envelope from her. Turning it over, you felt your heart jump into your throat when you read that it was from the University of Tokyo.
You looked up at your mother expectantly but she waved you off. "Don't ask me what it says, I didn't open it," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "Why didn't you tell your father and me that you applied to the University of Tokyo? It's a very good school."
"Because I didn't do it for you," you said as you tucked the envelope into your back pocket. "And I certainly didn't do it to go to law school or anything you guys would approve of."
Your mother narrowed her eyes at you. "Then why did you do it?"
"To play soccer," you answered, your mind immediately going to the conversation you had had with Keishin while taking inventory together. "And because I told someone I would."
Your mother eyed you for a minute more, waiting to see if you would reach for the envelope again to open it. When you made no indication of sharing your application results with her, she hummed softly. "Well, whatever that letter says, you should take some time to seriously consider what your next step is going to be." She turned to leave but stopped halfway to the door and looked at you over her shoulder. "It's not too late to make the right choice. Think carefully before you throw your life away."
With that, your mother exited the store, leaving you with a mixed slurry of emotions and no clue how to deal with any of them.
Pulling the envelope out of your back pocket, you set it down on the counter in front of you and stared at it. Whatever was printed on the single piece of paper inside would set a course for your future . . . although you were unsure if you even still wanted the future that this piece of paper could give you.
All you wanted was to be happy, and all you knew was that Keishin gave you that.
Anything more felt like asking for too much.
Anything more felt like a gamble that wasn't worth the risk.
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thequantumqueer · 6 years
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hi sorry 2 bother u but would u mind explaining a bit more about how ppl in the military are victims? ofc no pressure only if u wanna I'm just curious to learn wht u mean
yeah definitely!
so it starts with predatory recruitment. military recruiters visit high schools and sometimes even middle schools to normalize the idea that joining the military is no different from going to college. almost none of those kids can actually join, but they try to sell them on it anyway with talk of how cool it’ll be and what a badass it’ll turn you into, and stuff like that. the army even has even put out three T-rated video games about army life since 2007, the most recent in 2015.
it gets even more intense in high school, when they start contacting kids directly. when you take the SAT and ACT, your information automatically gets sent to recruiters and they start sending you recruitment literature that blends in really well with the letters you’re getting from colleges suggesting you apply.
then, once people are old enough to actually join up, the recruitment pitch shifts to more tangible offers with little to no intention of ever following through. one of the biggest selling points is the G.I. Bill, but it comes with a whole host of terms and conditions that no one ever mentions, which often results in the benefits being mostly (or even completely) unusable for a lot of people, with just under half of servicemembers ending up using any of it at all.
they also recruit heavily based on the idea that your time in the military will translate into work experience and make it easier to find a job when you get out, but most military equivalents to civilian jobs deal with highly specialized equipment that makes the experience irrelevant, and you don’t get any certifications or equivalencies.
another big draw is Tricare, which is, quite simply, the best insurance in the world. What they don’t tell you is that your dependents get a shitty knockoff, and you also get kicked over to that shitty knockoff as soon as they determine that whatever’s wrong means you won’t be returning to active duty. they want to protect their investment as long as it can fight for them, but beyond that, you can go fuck yourself. and that’s to say nothing of the nightmare that is the VA, which is infamous for multiple-month wait times for even basic care, which is very often poor quality when you eventually do get it.
once you’ve actually joined, a few things happen that the recruiter never mentioned. first and foremost, you’ve entered into a contract with the united states government, which means that any breach of that contract is a federal felony. in other words, everything in this post from here on out is 100% completely and totally unavoidable without utterly fucking up your life.
the second is that you are now subject to two entire sets of laws that, most likely, you had no idea existed until just now. lots of those laws are standard federal law that only applies to military personnel (title 10, mostly), but the rest are called the Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ). a lot of the ucmj is pretty straightforward stuff that you’d expect, like “it’s a crime to disobey orders” (Article 92) and the like, but there’s a ton of general conduct laws as well. for example Article 88 - Contempt Toward Officials, which says:
Any commissioned officer who uses contemptuous words against the President, the Vice President, Congress, the Secretary of Defense, the Secretary of a military department, the Secretary of Transportation, or the Governor or legislature of any State, Territory, Commonwealth, or possession in which he is on duty or present shall be punished as a court-martial may direct.
in other words, if you’re an officer it is literally a crime to criticize the government, even in private and even if you’re not in uniform. more generally, though, all military personnel have their political activity severely restricted by a combination of articles 10, 2, and 18 of us code, DOD directives, and military regulations. from this article, here’s a list of some things that you’re not allowed to do if you’re in the military:
Participate in partisan political fundraising activities, rallies, conventions (including making speeches in the course thereof), management of campaigns, or debates, either on one’s own behalf or on that of another, without respect to uniform or inference or appearance of official sponsorship, approval, or endorsement. Participation includes more than mere attendance as a spectator.
Use official authority or influence to interfere with an election, affect the course or outcome of an election, solicit votes for a particular candidate or issue, or require or solicit political contributions from others.
Allow or cause to be published partisan political articles, letters, or endorsements signed or written by the member that solicits votes for or against a partisan political party, candidate, or cause. However, letters to the editor are allowed.
Serve in any official capacity with or be listed as a sponsor of a partisan political club.
Speak before a partisan political gathering, including any gathering that promotes a partisan political party, candidate, or cause.
Participate in any radio, television, or other program or group discussion as an advocate for or against a partisan political party, candidate, or cause.
Conduct a political opinion survey under the auspices of a partisan political club or group or distribute partisan political literature.
Perform clerical or other duties for a partisan political committee or candidate during a campaign, on an election day, or after an election day during the process of closing out a campaign.
Solicit or otherwise engage in fundraising activities in Federal offices or facilities, including military reservations, for any political cause or candidate.
March or ride in a partisan political parade.
Display a large political sign, banner, or poster (as distinguished from a bumper sticker) on a private vehicle.
Display a partisan political sign, poster, banner, or similar device visible to the public at one’s residence on a military installation, even if that residence is part of a privatized housing development.
Participate in any organized effort to provide voters with transportation to the polls if the effort is organized by or associated with a partisan political party, cause, or candidate.
Sell tickets for or otherwise actively promote partisan political dinners and similar fundraising events.
Attend partisan political events as an official representative of the Armed Forces, except as a member of a joint Armed Forces color guard at the opening ceremonies of the national conventions of the Republican, Democratic, or other political parties recognized by the Federal Elections Committee or as otherwise authorized by the Secretary concerned.
Make a campaign contribution to, or receive or solicit (on one’s own behalf) a campaign contribution from, any other member of the Armed Forces on active duty.
Any activity that may be reasonably viewed as directly or indirectly associating the Department of Defense or the Department of Homeland Security (in the case of the Coast Guard) or any component of these Departments with a partisan political activity or is otherwise contrary to the spirit and intention of this Directive shall be avoided.
most of that list comes from DoD Directive 1344.10 (full text here) and while there’s plenty of stuff you can do, politically, but almost all of it requires you to be either anonymous or passive about it. so now it’s illegal for you to do anything substantial toward changing policy in any way, and possibly also to even so much as complain about the president or call congress incompetent.
so now that you’ve been properly restricted (and remember, the only way out of this without a felony is with a DD214 (discharge paperwork)) you’re put to work. on the surface, it seems like any other job, but there’s subtle differences. for one thing, literally every person who’s gotten more raises than you is your boss and you have to do whatever they tell you unless it conflicts with what someone who’s gotten even more raises than them already told you to do.
your orders can also be literally anything that’s not illegal. if your boss at starbucks tells you to always stand on one foot while you work the register, you might do it for like an hour or two, but then you’d stop bothering and if your boss got upset about it then that would be unreasonable. if your CO tells you to always say the pledge of allegiance in Farsi, then it’s your responsibility to learn how to say it in Farsi and always do so until that CO or someone above them give you permission to say it in english again, and if you don’t, that’s a crime.
what that means is that if you get assigned to recruitment duty, you can and will be ordered to look and sound excited about being in the military as you tell 13 year olds they should join up after high school, and you will legally have to do it.
and all of this is without even mentioning the missions. combat, and the act of killing another human being, are traumatizing even in the most ideal of situations. if someone breaks into your home to attack you and you push them back and something heavy falls on them and kills them, that’s still a traumatic experience for you. even legitimate wars for good reasons against enemies that really do need to be stopped are horrifying experiences for everyone involved.
but when the war is bullshit and most of the casualties are civilians and you know all this and aren’t even allowed to say anything about it, let alone do anything about it? that combines with combat to royally fuck a person up.
this is the part where everyone who’s read this far gets ready to jump down my throat about how the people being bombed are the real victims and not the people dropping the bombs, so let me remind you that this anon was in response to a post i made that started with the words “The US Military is […] evil” and that im not in any way trying to say that the troops get the worst of it, just that they are being used and abused by the system.
because remember, those troops have been groomed to be recruited since they were five years old and asked their parents why they got veterans day off from kindergarten, and have been pursued more and more actively all the way up through high school. the military lured them in, is chewing them up, and will spit them out when it’s done with them without giving one single fuck about them.
and no matter how you cut it, that describes a victim.
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My name is not important
I just need a place to process what's going on, and maybe find someone who's able to help me figure out what's happening to me. I grew up normal. I was adopted when I was really young, but I don't remember it and my adoptive family raised me like their own. They were a strict christian household, but that didn't mean they were bad- just stricter than most of my friends parents. Sometimes that made me jealous- I wasn't allowed to do some of the same things my peers were allowed to do; such as watch certain TV programs on weekdays, or get away with eating dinner without praying as a family first; but that's hardly anything to complain about is it? I love my family, but they were a little overly involved in my life after I graduated and tried controlling me a little too much after I turned 18. I think they just had a hard time letting go. I decided to move out of state to work on my career alone, which was an amazing choice- but ever since I've moved I've noticed a lot of... weird... stuff going on, and I'm not even sure where to start- so I guess I'll start with work. For privacy reasons, I'll leave out my place of work, but it's a retail job, minimum wage, and I've worked there without any problems since I moved here, but last week my manager fired me without any warning. I asked her why, and she was so annoyed that I even asked, she sighed and said "you didn't show up for your shift AGAIN, and your behavior the other day was appalling- you should remember, don't act stupid." I was taken aback by her language. I always behaved professionally and courteously at work- but I must have done something really bad to offend her. I also had NEVER missed a shift or skipped work- the only time I had missed a shift that I could remember was the day I had to get my covid vaccine, but that had been months ago and had been cleared with the manager. It was more trouble to fight the manager than to just accept defeat and find a new shitty job at minimum wage, but I'm still confused to this day what really happened. I don't remember skipping work, or being scheduled, and if I had been why didn't anyone tell me? and as for my "appalling behavior" It had to just be that manager taking some kind of personal offense or something- it had to be a miscommunication right? I thought back and couldn't actually remember if I had even saw her the day before I got fired. I know I went to work, I left at 8am like always, and had my coffee- two creams two sugars- like always, and I was 15 minutes early for my shift, like always, and I smoked back a Marlboro before checking into my shitty little job. And that's all I remember- the rest of the day was a blur. Maybe I was rude? Snappy or dismissive? I didnt think that was enough to get me fired though.... well anyways- I got home from getting fired from my shitty job and I decided to use my new art supplies that I just got from the store. I hadn't even opened the paint stuff yet, so I was really excited to use it, but when I got home and threw my keys on the desk- my paint wasnt there. I searched the whole house up and down and couldn't find the bad from Michael's anywhere. I ended up just giving up and going to bed. It was gone for a few days until this morning. I wake up and notice what's on my desk but several bottles of new paint- but they've all been opened, and maybe tested or used once. is there someone living in my house with me? is it a ghost? maybe theres a demon possessing me? is it possible to sleep paint???? i have NO idea.... I'm starting to get scared, so I'm going to document as much as I can over the next few weeks
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