#but they help me feel a little better which is already really something

[pomefioredove]

could you perchance do a part two to the yuu getting sold to the highest bidder? like how would that characters treat them if they actually get them? sorry if this doesnt make sence!! but thank uu!! ^_^

more than happy to! <3 I'm writing this as a follow up/pt. 2 to this post but if you'd like something different don't be shy! I love getting requests

summary: joining their dorms + wearing the uniforms (for some). a proper ending to this type of post: short fics characters: trey, cater, leona, rook, idia, lilia, malleus additional info: yuu is gender neutral, rook is weird, both fem and masc french words are used during rook's part but reader is still gn, I need to replay book 2 to get leona's voice down, Idia being fun to write, maybe a little ooc

If you thought it was bad before, the news that Malleus intended to marry you made everything about twenty times more chaotic. Bids were upped to insurmountable sums, rumors were spread like the plague, fights were raging through campus as the deadline to donate approached. Even Crowley was starting to feel a little antsy, despite all of the brand new amenities he had already ordered for his office.

Finally, the day came. The announcement was held in the courtyard, where just about any student who had stakes in the matter had shirked whatever after-school responsibilities they had to gather. The prefect themselves was nowhere to be found, though only few noticed their absence.

"Maybe it'll be nice," you say to your direbeast companion, the both of you tucked away in a dark corner at Ramshackle.

"It'll definitely beat living in this dump. You think they got good food in Diasomnia?" Grim murmurs.

You grimace. "Uh... sure. I can't imagine they wouldn't, right?"

Crowley clears his throat, pulling a thin, delicate envelope out of his coat pocket while the crowd eagerly watches on. He takes his sweet time opening it, much to everyone's utter dismay, and when he finally withdraws the contents the entire courtyard falls quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

"And our winner is..."

Trey and Cater's Ending

"Cater Diamond and Trey Clover!"

Everyone stops dead and turns to the back of the crowd. There's a certain sense of unity that, for a brief moment, everyone can feel in the form of a single thought: Them, of all people?

Cater, ever the people-person, can already tell what's on everyone's minds. "What can I say? I run a mean social media campaign. I had some sick infographics,"

Trey can only smile and shrug at the growing disdain coming from the other students, most of which from his own housewarden, who is s currently turning a lovely shade of crimson.

"...Right. Well, the prefect will be ready for you shortly," Crowley says, folding the envelope and setting it back in his pocket. "I trust your housewarden will help you sort out the details."

Riddle looks more like he's about to start throttling them.

"Nah, it's cool. We got this," Cater smiles, though he's only half paying attention as he posts an update to Magicam. "The prefect is in great hands. Right, guys?"

Ace and Deuce shrug. Not the best outcome, not the worst, and either way it's still their friend coming to stay with them. Riddle is gritting his teeth so hard you could practically hear them grinding from Ramshackle.

"Was anyone going to tell me you two had pitched in, as well? Or was it a surprise?"

Trey smiles, almost nervously. "Well-"

"We were only giving the dorm a better chance. It's basic statistics- more Heartslabyul names in the hat, more of a chance one of us will be drawn, y'know?" Cater beams. "No disrespect, of course."

"None whatsoever," Riddle hisses back.

---

"And you're sure he's not really mad?" you ask, trailing behind the two third years.

It had been almost an hour since you'd updated your Magicam feed and read the announcement firsthand, but the shock is still wearing off.

Cater scoffs. "Whaaaat? No, he's totally cool about it,"

"Well. Now he is, anyway," Trey murmurs back. "But he certainly won't kick you out. As long as you're in the dorm uniform, you're one of us. He's just upset we went behind his back."

"...Understandable,"

Cater holds the door open for you, letting you inside to see a precariously placed mannequin with a dorm uniform in your size already on it. You hate to admit it, but it's lovely.

"Riddle had one ready. You know, just in case," Trey says, gesturing you forward. "And don't worry, we'll all be taking it easy on you while you adjust."

You run your fingers down the durable fabric. "Hm. Thanks,"

"You should get changed, I need a post to commemorate the moment," Cater says, beaming. "And I kindaaaa want to rub it in for everyone else who lost out on the best giveaway ever."

Leona's Ending

"Leona Kingscholar! Please... be responsible. Ruggie, I hope you'll keep an eye out for the prefect,"

Ruggie rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything. Leona, who had been absent-mindedly picking his teeth before the big announcement, flashes a big smirk to the audience while swaggering to the front of it.

"Well, well. Look who's come in first place, after all. What, didn't think I'd bother to try?"

Vil grimaces, crossing his arms. "Is there a point to this?"

"Obviously. I'm showing off," he rolls his eyes. "I guess I'll be seeing the rest of you lot around my territory a lot more, then?"

He snickers and then disappears back inside the building. Ruggie can only shrug at the disgruntled crowd before tailing after him.

---

"Well, that felt nice," Leona sighs, stretching out on one of the lounge chairs. "Pity that I couldn't see the lizard's reaction, but I'm sure we'll get to that eventually."

You're sitting at the table across from him, playing cards with a very invested Ruggie. You raise an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Malleus," Ruggie mutters, shuffling his cards around in his hand.

"It's never a party without him, right? He was probably off cowering somewhere with his tail behind his legs," Leona chuckles, picking his teeth again. "But everyone else's faces just about made up for it."

"Whatever," Ruggie grumbles. "I'm all in."

Though you're not exactly invested in the game anymore. You set down your cards, much to Ruggie's dismay, and stand over Leona with your hands on your hips.

"I hope you know that I won't be one of your errand runners for you. I've done enough of that with Crowley,"

He pauses, sharp eyes scanning you over. "You certainly know how to rain on someone's parade,"

"This is not a parade. This is my sanity we're talking about,"

"Tch. And what're you gonna do? Run away?" Leona rolls his eyes. "Hide in the jungle? Maybe you can take Ruggie with you and make it a party!"

"Hey, leave me out of this," the aforementioned says, shuffling the deck.

You stand your ground, though you don't know what else to say. Eventually, Leona sighs.

"Fine. I won't make you do anything you don't want to if you're just going to whine about it,"

He pauses, and a small smirk crosses his face. "But you'll at least have to wear the uniform. I need the satisfaction of seeing the look on everyone else's faces."

You smile triumphantly, and sit back down across from Ruggie for another round while Leona watches on, pretending not to care about the game.

It could be better, but it could also be worse.

Plus, something about that smile of his let on more than just a little self-satisfaction.

This could definitely be interesting...

Rook's Ending

"...Ah. Rook Hunt!" Crowley says, folding the paper back in his pocket and leaning down to whisper to Azul in the front row. "Tell the prefect I said good luck."

At the heart of the crowd, Vil turns to Rook, hands on his hips. "Rook..."

"Ah, magnifique! How happy I am, my heart could weep for joy!" he says, completely ignoring whatever disappointed comment Vil was about to unleash. "I must run to my prize at once, there's not a moment to lose!"

Vil grimaces as Rook bounds off into the school, moving so swiftly that he cuts through the crowd of confused (and mildly concerned) students like an arrow.

As always, Rook is genuine with his words- he truly feels as if his own heart is about to leap out of his chest and race him towards Ramshackle.

What a chance, what an opportunity! Not only to be close to someone he has his own private fan club for, but to truly, finally possess beauty in physical form. He would display you on a shelf if it were feasible.

The idea so overwhelms him with joy that you barely had time to ask what was going on before you suddenly found yourself sitting beside him in the Pomefiore lounge as he smooths out the crinkles in your new uniform.

He murmurs under his breath, kneeling before you while inspecting the uniform. "Magnifique, joli, belle, quelle beauté, une rose parfaite..."

...Leaving you in a torn state of embarrassment and shyness. You look across the room to Vil for help, and he rolls his eyes.

"I coulda get used 'ta this!" Grim shouts, lounging on a nearby silk pillow with a mouthfull of pâté. Two freshman are tediously brushing his fur with the nicest set of combs you've ever seen.

"Comfortable?" You ask, only a little sarcastic.

"Uh-huh! Ya know, when I found out the winner was Rook, of all people, I was a little worried. But this is way nicer than collecting dust in Ramshackle!"

You couldn't have said it better yourself.

Rook smiles. "Tsk, tsk. I would never let anyone harm a single hair on your precious head,"

The question is directed to Grim, but he looks straight at you when he says it. "Like a delicate porcelain doll, I will handle you with the utmost care,"

You're not exactly sure what you had been envisioning- maybe he'd release you on a remote island and hunt you for sport?- but this had far exceeded any of your expectations.

Though his gaze is as unsettling as ever, and any hopes of personal space are gone out the ornate glass windows, his usual guarded demeanor had softened just the tiniest bit.

It was unnerving. But nice, in a way.

"Mon trickster, this is just the beginning for us. We have many shining days ahead, and I plan on spending every beautiful breath of them with you. Do you hunt?"

"Oh, sevens," Vil murmurs.

Unfortunately for Vil, Rook's smile is contagious and you can't help encouraging him. Just this once. "Not usually, no,"

"A merveilleuse opportunity! I will teach you all I have learned, then. Ah, this reminds me of a poem I wrote for this exact occasion!"

He may or may not be watching you sleep tonight. Hopefully you're the kind of person who can live with that.

Idia's Ending

LOL. Normies.

Look at them, crowding around like a bunch of sheep. As if anyone has a real chance. SMH.

I knew it was pointless to begin with, but getting into Crowley's banking account and seeing the bids... now I feel lame for even trying at all.

That money could've gone to some new parts. I've been itching to build another PC...

The door flies open, slamming against the wall behind it so loudly that even if Idia wasn't completely absorbed in watching the announcement on his biggest monitor, he would've jumped anyway.

He whirls around in his chair, wide-eyed and shaking like a prey animal, expecting to see some high level boss or classic horror game antag waiting for him.

Instead, it's Ortho. "Idy! You'll never believe-"

"Geez, Ortho, you nearly killed me. And I don't have any extra lives this time," Idia says, spinning back around to face his screen. "Something wrong?"

"Actually, I have some really great news! Wanna guess what it is?"

Idia grumbles, powering off his computer. "Nah, not in the mood,"

Ortho's brow furrows as he catches a fleeting glimpse of the camera feed playing over his brother's screen before it flickers to black. "You've been watching the announcement on the courtyard cam footage?"

"No! I mean- well, I was just curious," Idia says. "I watched for like two minutes. Who even cares about this thing, anyway?"

"Well-"

"I mean, it was a game over from the start. Taking on the highest level bosses at our school with my measly stats? Forget it,"

"But Idia-"

"Who even cares where the prefect ends up, anyway? I doubt they'd wanna be trapped in a basement like this for all eternity,"

"Idia!" Ortho shouts, loud enough to shake his brother from his ensuing pity party. Idia can only stare as he moves to the side, revealing a rather surprised looking you, dressed in the dorm uniform, behind him.

"Idia, you won!"

And then he dies.

That's what he thinks, anyway. Really, Idia goes into a state of complete shock and blacks out so hard that, for a moment, the blinding light shining through his eyelids feels like the light at the end of the tunnel.

"Is he okay?" you ask, tentatively watching as Ortho clicks off the small light he'd been shining in his brother's eyes.

"He's displaying symptoms of a panic attack. Don't worry, he gets them quite frequently,"

A distant groaning pulls the both of you back into the present moment and you watch Idia slowly rise.

"His heart rate has steadied to 70 BPM," Ortho says. You raise an eyebrow. "That's normal. Idia, can you hear us?"

He takes a long moment to respond.

"This isn't real. I'm sleep-deprived from my last speed run and now I'm hallucinating. There's no way,"

You look between the two brothers. This hasn't exactly gotten off to a stellar start.

"Your vitals are normal, although you're lacking Vitamin C. Might I suggest having a fruit cup while we talk?" Ortho asks. Idia shakes his head. "Yuu? Snack?"

"I could go for something,"

Ortho hovers out of the room, leaving the two of you alone. You're too nervous (or is he too nervous?) to ask to sit, so you stand over him while he practically rocks back and forth. His face is so red and hot with embarrassment you could cook an egg on it.

"Um..."

He mumbles back. "Just pretend I'm not here. IK you probably wanted one of those epic SSR students to pull you, I don't blame you for being disappointed,"

He talks so fast and quiet it's hard to make out what he's saying... but you get the gist of it.

"Hey, don't put words in my mouth. This is a hell of a lot better than it could have been,"

He seems to genuinely consider your words for a moment before you're interrupted by Ortho coming back with snacks.

Idia is back on high alert the second he's returned. "This doesn't make sense. I got into Crowley's online bank info and saw all the bids, I wasn't even close to the top five. How?"

"Oh, easy!" Ortho chirps. "I simply rewired funds from Crowley's bank account to up your offer!"

"You... took money out of his account and sent it back to him?"

"Clever," you murmur.

Idia grumbles. "I guess that's not technically stealing... fine. But why? I thought I told you not to bother!"

"My user intel indicates that the prefect is very popular amongst the student body. Their top three descriptors are helpful, kind, and friendly! I thought you two might be able to practice your social skills together... Perhaps you could show them around the dorm as a starting point?"

You turn around to look at Idia, who's sheet-white. Nonetheless... he sighs and stands, muttering a quick "Let's get this over with,"

You watch, as still as stone, as he stops in the doorway and turns to look at you from over his shoulder, his face and hair a pleasant shade of pink.

"Well? Are you coming?"

Lilia's Ending

"And our winner... is... hm. I don't even remember seeing this one in the pile," Crowley grumbles, scratching his head under his hat. "Um, Lilia Vanrouge!"

Silver is the first to look at him. "Fa-Lilia, I thought we talked about this,"

Lilia, currently hovering in the shade of one of the courtyard's signature apple trees, simply shrugs. As if it were the most normal thing in the world.

"Oh, we did. I really thought about what you said, about the prefect's freedom, and I decided that you're right! But how could I guarantee their safety from everyone else?"

Silver groans (which turns into a yawn) and Lilia puts on his best cute look as everyone else in the audience turns to him.

Crowley clears his throat. "The prefect will be ready for your-"

"Oh, no need! Thank you, though," he says, and then disappears into the building.

---

You've been distracting yourself by counting cobwebs for far too long, as evident by your headache and the taste of dust on your tongue.

You turn to look at Grim. "Should be over by now. I'm surprised I haven't heard anything yet,"

"Surprised, you say?"

No matter how many times he does that, you're never quite prepared.

You jump, nearly hitting your head against the table you'd been taking refuge under. Grim yowls, clawing into your sleeve (and just barely missing the tender flesh on your arm, thank goodness), and you both stare at the fae ahead of you.

Lilia is sitting on the table, hanging his head upside down and staring right at you. Grim mumbles.

"Don't even tell me. I'm out!"

Lilia waves him goodbye as he makes a swift exit, and then turns back to you.

"I have a secret. Wanna guess?"

You're a little curious (aren't you always when it comes to him?) but that isn't enough to overpower your rising dread.

"No,"

"Aw. Really? I'm sure you'll like it,"

"Definitely not, then,"

He slinks off the table and lies on the floor, cupping his face in his palms and kicking his legs back and forth.

It would be amusing if you weren't so sure of what he's about to say.

"Well, despite your best efforts, I'm not surprised at all. But Malleus couldn't even come here to get me himself?" you sigh.

Lilia tilts his head to the side. "Now, why would he do that?"

There's something written within the margins of his tone that makes your eyes lower at him. Something he's keeping from you.

"...Well... he did win, didn't he?"

"Oh, my. You were hoping for Malleus to win? Now I'm sure we both feel silly,"

You raise an eyebrow. "Hoping is... a strong word. But I was expecting it, yes. So he didn't win?"

"No, dear, Malleus is not the winner,"

"Then... who is?"

Lilia gives you a sweet, self-satisfied grin, his fangs glinting. "You're looking at him,"

Ah.

If there's one thing Lilia Vanrouge is good at, it's surprising you. No matter how stoic you act, no matter how clever you are, he always manages to catch you off guard.

This might take the cake, though.

"I didn't even know-"

"No. Initially, I wasn't going to. But Silver and I... we had a long talk about valuing your freedom and independence, and thus I so valiantly threw myself into the flames to save you from becoming someone's slave," he pauses to smile. "Chivalrous, yes?"

"...Charming," you mutter. "But what was that thing about-"

"Oh, yes. Don't worry, you'll be treated as any other student at Diasomnia. In fact, I'm sure we already have some uniforms in your size!"

"This is... quite the turn of events,"

"Ah, isn't it? I haven't felt this elated in... well... a long time," he grins. "Come along, now. I plan on treating you to a hearty welcome dinner!"

You can only grimace at that.

Malleus' Ending

During all of the confusion, the fighting, the rumors that shook the school, no one, again, had remembered to invite Malleus Draconia to the announcement.

Not that it mattered. Not this time.

One knock at Ramshackle's creaky door and you were suddenly in the depths of the forest around the school, admiring a crumbled stone structure.

"What was it?" you ask, turning to your walking companion.

Malleus smiles slightly. "I believe it was a wall. Fascinating, no? Since you have inhabited Ramshackle, I come here when I want to be alone,"

Ah, right. You'd almost forgotten that you'd made a home out of his ruins of preference.

Ramshackle was in a much better state than this, though. At least you had four walls and a roof over your head.

"Are you alone a lot these days?" you ask, rather absent-mindedly for such a heavy topic.

You're well aware of the answer already. No, of course not. Malleus is constantly surrounded, whether that be his friends, personal guard, mentors...

"Yes,"

Oh.

"I'm... sorry to hear that," it's all you can think to say.

Fae don't seem to know the conventions of human small talk. Or maybe that's just him. Not that you mind. "What about Silver, and Sebek, and Lilia...?"

"Fine companions," he crosses his arms. "I owe them a debt of gratitude. But being physically surrounded does not amount to closeness."

Oddly profound.

You can't help but relate, thinking back to everyone you know. Even with good intentions, they're still out there, bartering over your life.

"I'm glad you came and got me," you say, breaking the tense silence. "I was afraid you'd gone to that... announcement thing."

He raises an eyebrow. "The what?"

"...Never mind. I guess my point was that I've been feeling a little lonely lately, myself,"

Malleus is quiet for a moment, staring directly ahead at the mess of stones and moss that once made up a sturdy wall. Now crumbled, scattered across the ground.

And the, he smiles.

"Well, there is a solution to this trouble of ours. But I'd need your consent,"

What exactly is he getting at? You raise an eyebrow. "Go on,"

"I've been so preoccupied with the formalities that I haven't had the chance to ask you properly, yet. Lilia suggested I might have more success this way,"

He pauses, and then smiles. "I would like us to marry. Does this agree with you?"

You thought you might be stunned. Speechless, even. But the answer comes so naturally.

"Yes, it does,"

[afterglowsainz]

Hey can I get a jealous Jude x female reader. Nothing too toxic lol l, it’s just some guys hitting y/n up on social media and somehow Jude sees the DMs and gets a little jealous. Then his petty self goes and posts a picture of him and his girlfriend on her ig or something petty like responds back with a “she’s busy bro”. Thanks 🫶🏻

jealousy | jude bellingham

obsessed with this concept already !!

summary: while you're getting ready to go out on a date with your boyfriend, he accidentally sees some dms he doesn't like and decides to do something about it

warnings: none

word count: 738

a/n: boring title booo i know i know i couldn't think of anything better :( i do hope you like the one shot tho it was fun to write about jealous jude <3

you were getting ready to go out on a date with jude while he was laying on your bed waiting for you. his phone was charging somewhere in the living room so you gave him yours to play a game so he doesn’t get bored. you were putting on your makeup while singing along to your playlist while he was building some villages or whatever it was that they do on clash royale. however, jude got distracted when an instagram dm pop up at the top of your phone, it was from this formula 1 driver that he knew was always liking your pictures, he didn’t knew he was dming you as well. he thought about opening the message, but he didn’t want to invade your privacy like that, so he simply looked at you.

“someone dm you.” he says.

his voice took you out of your little world and you place your gaze on him thought the mirror you were applying your makeup on.

“who?”

“lando norris.” he reads the name like he didn’t knew already.

“what does it say?” you hide a laugh and continue with your makeup routine.

jude opens the message and reads it out loud. it was obvious he was hitting on you by replying to a story you had posted earlier that day when you went to brunch with your friends and you felt cute.

“are you gonna answer?” he asks again, hints of jealousy on voice.

“not really, no.” you answer and go back to singing along and applying mascara on.

when jude goes back to the screen on your phone his thumb accidentally swipes left and your whole inbox is completely exposed to him. he didn’t meant to do that, but it really was an accident and he couldn’t help but see now that it was there, only he wished he didn’t have.

some of your dms were just conversations with your friends, but a lot of them were just guys replying to your stories and hitting on you, which made him even more jealous than before. you never replied to them, going as far as deleting some of the messages you received, but since you hadn’t checked your instagram since that afternoon a lot of dms from different guys complimenting you on your story were there for jude to find.

he frowns at the phone and takes a look at you, completely oblivious while doing your eyeliner. his eyes go back to the screen and he starts looking up some pictures that you took the week before of you two.

“do you mind if i post one of those pictures you took of us last week?” he asks out of nowhere. “so i can repost it on my story.” he clarifies.

you frown a bit confused because this is the first time he has asked you something like this, but after him seeing the other guy’s dm and feeling a bit jealous you connected the dots and smile amused.

“sure.” you say.

he nods and went to post a story with the two of you looking definitely like the couple you were. he spend a few seconds thinking about a good caption, landing on a simple “my boyfriend❤️”, very straight to the point. he also tagged himself big enough for everyone to see and posted the picture, a satisfied smile on his face.

when you were done with your makeup and ready to go, you approached him and sat on his lap, your phone still in his hand.

“let me see the picture.” you smiled. he shows you the story and you rolled your eyes, a bit amused at his possessiveness. “was that really necessary?” you point at the text and he just shrugs.

“i just feel like there’s a lot of people that don't know we’re together, you know? just wanna put it out there.” you nod, fighting the smile on your face and putting your arms around him.

“is that so?” you tease him, getting closer to him if that was even possible.

“yeah, lots of guys on your dms.” he confess. “they liked your selfie earlier.”

“hmm.” you answer. “i wouldn’t know about that, i only like one guy.” a treacherous smile takes over his lips and you take the opportunity to kiss him. “wanna go? we’ll be late to dinner.”

jude just nods and gets out of bed, never dropping your hand for a second.

[gi4hao]

💋 ˎˊ- you ask to leave lipstick stains on their face

-> ot13! fluff, 1 mention of making out in hoshi’s, mention of kissing dino’s neck :> (also not proofread yet bc i’m too lazy)

-> reblogs and feedback are always appreciated <3

— seungcheol

although he’s a bit confused by the question, he’s more down for it than he’ll ever admit. he insists on keeping your phone in his hand to take pictures, which he’ll definitely add as a widget among your apps. it’s hard for him to stay still while you kiss his face tho, because he’s used to immediately kissing you back… which he eventually does once his face is full of reddish stains.

— jeonghan

he’ll giggle his way through it, that’s for sure. head resting on your lap, he makes it hard to get precise stains because he can’t stop squirming after every kiss. still, he looks very happy with the end result as he admires himself in the mirror. “i’ve never looked better,” he beams before kissing your lips, transferring some of the lipstick on his, “can i do it to you?”. and so begins round 2, during which he’s just as giggly.

— joshua

100% okay with it, and he’ll stay surprisingly still during the process. a patient smile on his lips, he keeps his eyes closed while you pepper his face with kisses. “i feel like a canvas,” he says, “it’s pretty nice. mostly because the painter is really hot”. you playfully hit his shoulder, because he knows how much this kind of remarks fluster you. “well you’re a really hot canvas too,” you add, hands on his jaw to plant a comically loud kiss on his lips.

— jun

another giggler, obviously. he acts as if it’s the first time your lips touch his face, making him feel almost ticklish. and just seeing him grinning from ear to ear makes you sort of forget about your initial plan: long story short, the stains mostly end up on his mouth. “it’s a look!” he says, looking at his reflection in his phone before putting it down to kiss you again, “will definitely want to recreate it again…”

— hoshi

he says he’d let you do whatever you want, yet he can’t help but ask “how does it look?” after every. single. kiss. and he looks so proud when you finally show him the end result. he thinks it looks kind of hot (and he’s not wrong about that). actually, there’s no guarantee he won’t turn this wholesome activity into a makeout session… the stains are already showing that he’s obsessed with you, why not continue down this road?

— wonwoo

his cheeks have never flushed so quickly before. you wanting to leave lipsticks stains on his face is kind of like… you trying to claim him as your boyfriend… and he kind of loves it… so yes, he would hold his glasses in his hands and just pray that you don’t tease him too much about the pink shade on his cheeks. “you’re awfully silent,” you playfully remark between two kisses. “well, you know… just trying not to lose my mind,” he replies, carefully looking away.

— woozi

at first you think he accepts just to make you happy… but you notice he’s actually really into it; like when he offers to reapply the lipstick himself after the first few kisses. and he does it very carefully, tongue sticking out as he follows the natural curves of your lips. “are you in love with me or something?” you tease him with a fake frown. letting out a sigh, he gazes at you with a serious expression: “my cheeks are covered in the shape of your lips… i’m madly in love with you.”

— dokyeom

he’s shocked you even asked for his permission, because this man is always down for kisses, no matter the reason for them. also, he thinks lipstick looks really sexy on you but that’s besides the point… his heart does a little jump when he sees you being extra careful before kissing the mole on his cheek, because you want to make sure this stain is the most perfect one. “can i take a picture? it’s for my lockscreen,” you ask, and he swears his heart is about to burst. “you can do whatever makes you happy, my love.”

— mingyu

for you, he’s a living doll. it’s very rare for him not to be on board with something, so naturally he will also say yes to that. and seeing how gorgeous these stains look on his tanned skin only feeds your mind with further ideas. “wait… i want to do something else,” you say, readjusting your position until his forearm is at your lips’ reach. he burst out laughing when he feels your lips crash against his bicep. “now i’ve claimed your pretty face and your pretty muscles,” you happily state, before letting out a squeal as he pulls you closer. “you’ve claimed all of me a long time ago, beautiful”.

— minghao

yeah, sure! why not! but he’d want to take it up a notch and make it artsier. “can you leave some here as well?,” he asks you, pointing at the collar of his white shirt, “i’ll go over the stains with some fabric paint later”. so you do as told, because nothing make you feel as loved as minghao considering you his muse. “perfect,” he nods when you show him the end result, which makes you feel even more flustered, “that way you’ll always be with me. and that’s all i could ever ask for,” he smiles, and you’re pretty sure now is a good time to finally give his lips some attention.

— seungkwan

he is so down for it he could even go grocery shopping with those stains on his face. in fact, he seems to enjoy it so much that you get a little carried away. “i thought you meant about ten kisses… not ten thousands,” he teases, looking at his reflection in the mirror. most of his face is covered in lipstick, but the softness of his skin is the only one to blame. “forgive me for loving my boyfriend too much…” you playfully roll your eyes, which prompts seungkwan to trap you in his arms and give you a taste of your own medicine, leaving so many kisses on your face you can barely think straight.

— vernon

it’s not the first time you ask him to partake in something you saw on social media, he’s more than used to it. “peak boyfriend activity,” he states as he leans back against the couch, lovingly watching you apply the lipstick. he tries his best to keep a straight face during your kisses, but there are a few chuckles he can’t hold back, simply because it makes him so giddy. “i just know this will be my new contact picture…” he says when you’re done. as you take your phone out of your pocket, you correct him: “actually… this is going in the groupchat”.

— dino

oh he would be so smug about it. “i’m all yours,” he tells you, his own lips puckered to make sure you won’t forget to kiss them too. “this is as close as i’ve ever been to happiness” he adds when you’re done, with a (slightly exaggerated) peaceful sigh, “kissed, marked by my lover’s lips, and seconds away from asking if you can leave some on my neck as well…”. you look at him with crossed arms and amused eyes, but you both know you’ll end up doing it right away, especially when he’s looking so, so handsome right now.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

[pinkie-pop]

"Reincarnated As The Cringefail Lord of Hell's Second Child."

Part I Part || Part III

Sequel to this.

Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Morningstar! Reader, Platonic Hazbin Hotel x Reader, Yandere Hazbin Hotel

Word count: 2.7k

Includes: Alastor being creepy, invasion of (your) privacy, bad things are coming...

Synopsis: A straightforward isekai story, you're reborn as the devil's child. With knowledge of your past life and the show your new world is based on, it's clear that you must be destined for greatness. The only question remains: why does everyone around you seem to be acting so...strange?

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

There's nothing better than the payoff that a successful scheme brings. Vaggie returns to the hotel a few hours after your talk with her, and with her is a pair of two gorgeous angelic wings.

“Wait, yer an exorcist?!” Angel exclaims, throwing his top arms up, and using his bottom pair to pull himself up from his position on the couch. “How did I not know about this?!” He looks around, shaking his head wildly. Husk merely shrugs. 

“Maybe if you weren't high all the time-”

“Oh, yeah, like yer one to talk, Mr. Hasn't-been-seen-without-a-bottle-in-seven-years!”

Charlie claps her hands together, effectively stopping the two before their banter turns into an actual fight. “Okay, so Vaggie's an angel, that doesn't mean that-” 

“Oh yeah, easy for you to say, Princess. I bet ya already knew about this, didn't ya?” 

“I mean, I did. But-!” 

“Then why didn't ya say anything?!”

“It wasn't my place to-”

Angel dramatically falls back onto the couch. Odd, you think, his reaction wasn't nearly this strong in the show, why is he- “Whatever. I need a drink,” he says getting up. “Husk! Pour me a drink!” Husk grumbles something under his breath as Angel passes you to get his drink. 

“I think he's over it,” you say, glancing over your shoulder at Angel, who is drinking straight from the bottle. “So, an angel, huh? How exciting! My dad was an angel, too, y'know?” Vaggie looks unimpressed at your attempt to pretend this is new information, but you ignore her. 

“Yeah…I know,” she says flatly. “Anyway, Carmilla agreed to supply us with angelic weapons at a discounted price, should we need them.” 

“Why would we need them?” Charlie asks, looking worried. Vaggie looks away, briefly making eye contact with you. 

‘Something’s going to happen on extermination day,’ you say, looking oddly certain. 

“Just…in case,” she says, offering an unsure smile. 

“Well ain't that fuckin’ ominous,” Angel pipes up from the bar. “Care ta enlighten us as ta why we might need em, toots? Something a little less vague than ‘Just in case'?” Angel puts down his drink (which is really just a whole bottle of what appears to be a mix of tequila and vodka—it’s a good thing he's already dead, you think to yourself) to make air quotes with his hand. 

“Angel, I think you're drunk,” you say, diffusing the situation. “You're slurring your words.” He's not, but you figure the statement will draw his attention towards you and away from Vaggie. You don't need him prying and accidentally figuring out something he shouldn't know.

“Am not slurin’ my words” He slurs, then slumps over, immediately falling asleep in an almost cartoonish fashion. Well, you suppose you are in a cartoon, you think to yourself, but you know that's not the reason for his sudden drunken state.

No, you're sure the sleeping spell you cast on him was by far the more likely cause. 

Alastor, who had been quietly observing the whole time, widens his grin with a look that seems to say ‘I know you did that’ but you ignore his gaze and ask Charlie for help taking Angel back to his room. 

While Charlie is busy tucking a grown man into bed, you slip out of the room and bump right into Alastor, who seems to have followed the two of you back to Angel's room. 

You have a bad feeling about this. Of all the many characters in Hazbin Hotel to avoid, Alastor probably ranked at the top of your list. You really don't need him getting curious about you.

“Why, hello there, little one,” he says, peering down at you. You think his eyes may be glowing, but you aren't sure. 

“Uh, hi?” you say, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. You glance back at the door. Charlie will be emerging from it soon. She'll save you, right?

“I couldn't help but notice the little ‘stunt’ you pulled with dear Angel Dust earlier—quite amusing, I must say! And I don't say that lightly. Might I ask you to join me on a stroll so that we might…discuss it?” He asks. You swear the room’s temperature just dropped. 

“I'm not going anywhere with you,” you say. “Dad told me not to talk to strangers.” 

“Ah, still playing the role of an innocent child now, are we?” He says casually. You stand a little straighter. “Not to worry, I'm a good friend of your sister, and besides, we have much to discuss!”

“We don't have anything to ‘discuss’,” You say firmly, moving to walk past him when he grabs your arm. 

“You may not have anything to discuss with me, but I have much to say to you,” he says. His tone then shifts to something more dangerous as he says, “And believe me,” he leans down to your level. “You don't want to see me when I get angry.” It's a cliché line and not at all scary. Even with the voodoo sigils floating around him and his radio-knob irises, you hold firm. 

“If I scream, Charlie and the rest of the hotel will hear me,” you say. The static around you dissipates, and Alastor's grin twitches in annoyance. 

“Very well,” he says, swinging his cane and turning to leave. “But this won't be our last encounter. Sooner or later, you'll give me the answers I want.” And just like that, he walks away. 

Once he's out of view, you sink to your knees. Despite your firm insistence that he didn't scare you, it was stressful nonetheless. Having him leave merely sucked the stress out of you, and momentarily took the strength from your legs. 

Yes, that's right. That's all it was. Your human nature makes you wary of him, but your demonic side keeps you steady. Soon, you'll be more demon than human, and this so-called ‘fear’ will be nothing more than a fleeting memory. 

Not that you were scared. 

“[Name]…? What are you doing on the floor?”

“It's comfortable down here,” you mutter, standing to your feet. “I'm going to bed early tonight. Where's my room again?”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

You flop on to your and Lucifer's bed (king-sized, thanks to Lucifer's magic), exhausted. You bring your stuffed demon bear (Mr. Snuggles—a gift from Lilith, before she left) to your chest and sigh. You close your eyes. A lot happened today, and you could use some rest. 

But before that…

You open your eyes and sit upright, swinging your legs over the bed and standing. You walk to the small writing desk by the door and summon your diary from seemingly thin air, and begin writing. Journaling is a habit you formed as soon as you were able to hold a pen (this has left the first few entries of your diary completely illegible, but you were able to transcribe them once you had developed a steadier hand), and something you kept up to this day. You document today’s events, making sure to note Alastor’s suspicious behavior, then close and lock your diary. It’s a rather unnecessary step, considering you’ll be sending it back to the subspace you summoned it from, but the lock puts you at ease regardless. 

You’ve just finished clicking the lock back into place when Lucifer walks in.

“What’s that?” He asks curiously, walking over to take a peek. Without thinking of how suspicious your actions may come across, you quickly dismiss the journal back to your subspace. 

“Nothing!” You say, a tad too loudly. You clear your throat. “Nothing,” you say, quieter, this time. Lucifer opens his mouth to speak, and you realize you need to change the subject, and fast. “Um, I just realized we didn't bring any clothes with us. If we're going to be staying here, we'll need to get some.” Lucifer seems to hesitate before taking your bait, using magic to summon your wardrobe from the palace to the hotel’s drawers. You pick out a pair of pajamas and head to the bathroom to change, while Lucifer uses magic to change his own clothes instantly. When you return, he's already in bed, smiling and eagerly patting the space next to him.

Wait…what's in his hand?

You take a closer look. 

Isn't that…? 

Oh God. 

Oh fuck. 

“Dad, I don't-” 

“C'mon, sweetie, let me read you a bedtime story!” He says, opening the book of fairytales, eyes practically shining. It's endearing, in a way, the way he constantly tries to be a good father to you. But it's also annoying. You're a grown adult, for Christ's sake. You don't want to be read a bedtime story.

But it's not like you can just tell him that. 

“...Okay,” you say, climbing up to the bed and nestling yourself beside him.

It's surprisingly soothing. A hellish retelling of Cinderella, spoken to you in a soft, rhythmic voice. It reminds you of ASMR, in a way. You find yourself drifting off to sleep before you even realize you're tired.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

[Name] fell asleep. 

It’s not surprising, the story Lucifer read to you is known to make children sleepy. Still, he was half-expecting it to fail, or for you to refuse to listen to a story altogether. 

You look so young, curled up like this. So innocent. 

You look like a kid.

Lucifer’s stomach churns. What were you writing about? He knows he should respect your privacy, but…

Something tells him it’s important. He’s seen you write in that notebook before. He knows it’s a diary.

He shouldn’t read it.

He shouldn’t but…

Lucifer taps into the subspace you’ve been using (you may be unusually good at magic for your age, but you’re still a novice. You haven’t learned to secure your network yet.). He pulls out your diary but pauses when he sees the lock. 

He could open it with nothing more than a wave of his hand if he wanted to (and God, he did want to). But it feels wrong. Like he’s encroaching on something sacred. 

If he puts it back now, nothing will change. He’ll stay ignorant. You’ll keep your secrets. But your relationship won’t be affected. The two of you will go back to playing family, and he’ll never know what’s so important to you that you created a private network and a lock to keep it hidden.

He could do that, but…

He opens the diary. The first few pages are impossible to decipher, but pages 6 and onwards are legible. 

October 3rd, 20XX

This is a transcription of the following days: September1st, September 9th, September 16th, and September 22nd.

‘September 1st…? They couldn’t have been older than a month old when this was written,’ Lucifer thinks. Demons develop themselves faster than humans, but even by a demons standard, learning to read and write within just a month of being born is…unheard of.

Lucifer keeps reading.

September 1st, 20XX

I’m finally strong enough to crawl around and hold a pen. Thank goodness. Being trapped in a body you can’t control with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company is pure torture. Though, I suppose this is hell. Perhaps that was the point…? No, if that were the case, I’d never be able to walk and write, let alone so fast. I haven’t been able to keep track of the days, and the clocks are all too high to read, so I have no idea how long I’ve been here, but I saw a calendar hanging in the kitchen. I hope it’s up to date. 

I was able to pinch myself today, but it didn’t hurt. I’d count it as evidence that I’m in a dream but…well, it could also just mean that I’m too weak for it to work. I’ll try again once I’m a little bigger. 

Dreams don’t usually last this long, do they? Perhaps I’m in a coma. I must’ve gotten into a horrible accident, and I’m on the verge of death. This is just my brain spitting out random information from my subconscious. That’s why Lucifer and Lilith are here. That’s why I’m in Hazbin Hotel. It can’t be anything else.

Lucifer furrows his eyebrows. How did you know about the hotel, seven years before its opening?

September 9th, 20XX

Lilith gave me a Teddy bear today. She called it a hell bear. It’s cute, and something I probably would have kept in my room before all this. It’s less babyish than the rest of the things she’s given me. Lucifer named it for me. Mr. Snuggles, he says, in a mock baby voice. It’s bad. I know I’m in the body of a baby right now, but it still feels a little belittling whenever he does that. I used to pay taxes, you know! Sure, I liked cute things every now and again, but I was still a bona fide working adult. …Mr. Snuggles is a cute name, though. 

A working adult? Taxes? You thought his baby voice was stupid?

Okay, maybe that last one was less important, but still. Ouch.

September 16th, 20XX

I finally found the library. Goodbye, boredom! 

Lack of proper stimulation was slowly killing me. If I were an actual baby, the mobile and fairytales would probably have been enough to keep me sated, but, well, you know.

Anyway, the novels I’ve been reading lately have been pretty good, I think I’m able to more or less pick out which ones belonged to who. Mostly by the way they’re organized. The novels stored in the shelves under the staircase all have happy endings and sappy romance, they seem to be Charlie’s. The stories near the front have badass female protagonists and are usually crime mysteries and thrillers, probably belonging to Lilith. The informationals on various animals and other special interests are likely Lucifer’s. And the books in the very back…are all pornography. I’m not sure whose those are, and I’m not really sure I want to know.

Lucifer’s face turns bright red, and he nearly squeaks, but he manages to reel himself in and continue reading.

September 22nd 20XX

I’m able to crawl up stairs now. The second floor of the library is filled with Grimores. They contain complicated mathematical formulas and intricate sigils. I’ve done the math over and over, but I can’t seem to find any flaws with them. I’m not smart enough to have come up with the formulas on my own, so unless I’m doing something wrong, there’s a pretty good chance that this isn’t a dream after all. 

Come to think of it, you’re not supposed to be able to read in dreams, either. 

…I just pinched myself. Ouch.

Lucifer’s mind is racing. Nothing about this makes sense, and yet it explains so much, and yet—

He flips the page.

October 4th, 20XX

It took me a few days, but I’ve finally accepted this as my new reality. I’ve transmigrated into the body of [Name], a never before seen and likely nonexistent character of Hazbin Hotel, who just so happens to share the same name as myself. 

It’s…a tough pill to swallow. I miss my family, my friends, my home.

I may never be able to go back. But I have to try. I’ll read every grimore in the library, even the ones written in ancient languages, I’ll find a way to translate them, I’ll learn the language if I have to. Whatever it takes, I will see this done. I can’t give up. Even if I have to lose what it means to be human, even if I have to become a demon, that’s okay, once I’m back, I can relearn  what it means to be human. There’s so much I haven’t done back on Earth. So much I’ve never seen. So much I’ve never done, never said. I have too many regrets to just sit back and accept this.

I’ll find a way home.

You’re…leaving?

Home? You’re already home. This is your home now. These past seven years, have they all been a lie? Did it really mean nothing to you? Did he mean nothing to you?

Sure, you’ve always been distant, always been a bit too mature, but you were still a child. You were still his child. 

Weren’t you?

You’re…going to leave. To throw him away. Just like Lilith. 

No, he can’t lose you too. He won’t. He’ll find a way to stop you. 

Even if it means you can’t smile the way you used to, even if it means you don’t love him the same. He has to keep you. 

But he can’t do it alone.

Tucking the diary under his arm, Lucifer is careful not to wake you as he leaves your shared bedroom.

Taglist: @Halparkebitch @American-idiot21 @Toast-on-dandelioms @Mixplarab @aria-tempest @nirvana5874 @arsonist-on-fire @dollsgate @shoebillcuicui @galaxywing-has-adhd @sakuraluna2468 @luckywitchsong @ibcreations-blog @heather-hutchcroft @thoughtfulbananaduckcroissant @bee814 @deadgirldreaming @reikamasama @pandaquick

[invertedfate]

what prompted you to start making the mutual crush subtext in Chara and Frisk's relationship less "one possible interpretation" and more "explicitly the intended interpretation"? don't get me wrong it's a very cute part of the story that's pretty fun to watch unfold and an interesting way to characterize their dynamic, but i'm genuinely curious as to what specifically made you decide to make them be mutually crushing on eachother over the more common interpretation of them as siblings

To be honest, I just never saw them as siblings in IF and found it frustrating how people treated the siblings interpretation as hard canon when it's just one possible reading. Some people treat that interpretation's popularity as a reason to bully others for having other readings of the characters, but I just think it's important to be kind, 'cause I feel like interpreting Frisk's relationship w/ the goatfam as something else is VERY different from, say, misgendering them, since how Frisk views Toriel and the others is up to player choice. I didn't actually go into IF with any particular ships in mind, but it just kinda developed in that direction, I really liked the dynamic they shared, and it just... materialized the same way IF Papyton did despite me not having strong feelings on the ship one way or the other usually. That's not to say I have anything against the siblings interpretation, and I know that some people aren't comfortable with Charisk because they prefer them as siblings. I absolutely get that, and tbh it probably doesn't help that early IF had the dubious dad stuff with Asgore. While in later chapters, Frisk realizes they barely got to know Asgore and were too impulsive and Asgore shares a similar realization, it probably doesn't help in terms of setting expectations, and that's why for the updated playable version of the Asgore fight, we made some dialogue updates/additions to help better lead into things. I need to poke Phi about getting that uploaded and recorded, 'cause while we don't have any new Rift videos ready, I think a video of the canon route for the Asgore fight with the added Flowey and Frisk conversations would at least be something nice to share. The conversation basically involves Flowey and Frisk talking about what Asgore put Frisk through at the end of part 4C, Flowey pointing out how he warned Frisk not to get too attached/get Asgore's hopes up, and just gives a little more of Frisk having conflicted feelings after they spare Asgore as well (since even if they got a happier outcome, he still tricked them into killing him, which is... a lot to put a traumatized child through who already had a close call with Lilac).

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Galileo Galilei Main Story

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies. Not proofread.

(Who...?)

I wanted to open my eyes to see whose cold hand was touching my forehead, but my body refused to move, and I slipped into unconsciousness once more.

After checking Mitsuki’s condition, Galileo returned to his room and stood there for a while.

Galileo: “........”

After hesitating, he opened a drawer on his desk and took out a worn-out origami crane.

Galileo: “I thought as much...”

The scar on Mitsuki’s forehead, which he had just seen, and the story he heard last night about the origami cranes, triggered a memory in Galileo’s mind.

It was from the time when he traveled through various countries and eras, using the door.

When he arrived in a certain eastern country, he witnessed a scene where a vehicle was about to hit a girl.

Realizing that the girl wouldn’t survive, his body moved on its own. Before he knew it, he was holding the girl in his arms and lying on the roadside.

Girl: “Thank you, big brother. You’re my lifesaver.”

Although he had caused her a slight injury on her forehead, the girl smiled, and the origami crane she gave him as thanks was still in his hand to this day.

Galileo: “The girl I helped back then was Mitsuki.”

Galileo: "That was an event from when I traveled to the future, which means Mitsuki came from the future using that door in the mansion."

With the strange fate involving Mitsuki playing out in his mind, Galileo couldn't help but sigh as he sensed his own fate intertwined with hers.

Galileo: "Even if she doesn't have any special powers, it seems she's still the woman of destiny."

Galileo: "How ironic."

His self-deprecating murmur faded away into the room.

Mitsuki: "Mn..."

When I woke up, the sun was already setting.

I moved slightly despite the lingering heaviness in my body and noticed something gently resting on my forehead.

(Ice pack? Did someone take care of me?)

(Was it Drake? Or maybe...)

At that moment, I heard a knock.

Galileo: "Are you awake?"

Galileo entered, holding a fresh ice pack.

Mitsuki: "Were you the one taking care of me?"

Galileo: "You got injured because of me."

Galileo: "It would be embarrassing if you fell ill because of that."

He said this before I could respond, and a small smile escaped my lips.

(This guy really has a strong sense of duty.)

But whether it was out of obligation or genuine concern, it was heartwarming to have someone look after me.

Mitsuki: "Thank you, Galileo."

Galileo: "........."

He accepted my thanks silently and approached the bed.

My heart raced wildly in my chest as he removed the ice pack and placed his hand on my forehead.

(This is the gentle, cold hand I felt while I was asleep earlier.)

Galileo: "It looks like you're recovering enough to speak, but you still have a fever."

Galileo: "Rest a little longer."

Mitsuki: "Okay. Thank you."

After placing the medicine and drinks he brought on the table, he quietly left the room.

Though I was alone again, I didn't feel as helpless as earlier.

(My chest somehow feels warm.)

(Is it because he was here with me?)

Feeling calm this time, I drifted into another sleep.

A few days later, my health had fully recovered, and I resumed spending my days with him.

We passed through the door and found ourselves on another moonlit night, and each time, I witnessed him struggling under the miasma.

That night, I reflected on the various times I had seen Galileo.

(Why does he keep going out on nights of lunar eclipses?)

All I knew was that he was looking for something, but I still didn't know what it was.

Even though he was suffering, he took some time to recover and then traveled again.

Realizing that he was repeating such actions, I got worried.

(I can't bear to see him like that. I want to stop him for his sake.)

Every time I got to know him better, I found myself unsure of what to call the emotions I had towards him.

He was a frightening man with intense anger hidden beneath an icy, cold facade. Yet he was also compassionate, engraving his sorrow and pain onto himself.

(Seeing him like that is painful.)

Despite aspiring to destroy the world, he tried to help his brethren and even took care of me.

(He has his kind side too.)

Each of these extreme aspects seemed to be part of his truth.

(The way he appears changes from time to time, like the phases of the moon.)

But I still felt like I hadn't discovered the true "him" yet. Just then, I heard footsteps from outside the room.

Curious, I stepped out of the room to find him and Sidereus getting ready to go outside.

Mitsuki: "Galileo, are you going out at this hour?"

Galileo: "Yeah. Sidereus finds this place too confining."

Galileo: "Besides, the sky is clear tonight."

I noticed he was carrying a telescope in his arms.

(Maybe he's going stargazing while walking Sidereus.)

Suddenly, curiosity piqued my interest.

Mitsuki: "Can I come with you?"

Galileo: "Is that to get to know me better?"

Mitsuki: "Yes. You said you wouldn't hide or run away from me, remember?"

While it's true that I want to understand the real him, I'm also intrigued by his personal life.

After a brief moment of silence, Galileo spoke up.

Galileo: "It's your choice."

(Does that mean it's okay for me to go with them?)

Mitsuki: "Then, I'll go with you."

I quickly got ready and followed them until we arrived at a flower field.

Sidereus: *Bark! Bark!*

Sidereus ran around happily in the wide-open field.

Smiling at his puppy-like innocence, I looked at the sky to see the crescent moon and stars sparkling like gems.

Mitsuki: "There are so many stars out tonight."

Galileo: "Yeah. There are no clouds today, so it's the perfect time for stargazing."

He chose a spot and swiftly assembled the telescope.

Once everything was set up, he peered through the lens, occasionally lifting his head to gaze at the night sky.

For some reason, as I gazed at his profile, I found myself captivated by his eyes.

(Is this how he looks when he's stargazing?)

His amethyst eyes were filled with passionate longing, as if yearning for something unattainable in the distance, evoking a sense of melancholy.

(His eyes are really beautiful.)

I found myself admiring his eyes more than the stars.

Galileo: "Want to take a look?"

Mitsuki: "Huh?"

Galileo: "You've been glancing at me since earlier. Isn't that because you also want to see the stars?"

Mitsuki: "Yeah! I'd love to take a look!"

(Thank goodness he didn't notice I was admiring him.)

I stood in front of the telescope, feeling relieved inside.

It was my first time stargazing through a telescope, so I was really excited.

Mitsuki: "Huh? It's blurry. I can't see well."

Thinking I might have messed something up, I tried to adjust the focus, but...

Galileo: "Let me see."

(…....)

He leaned over me from behind, his warmth enveloping me.

As he adjusted the focus, my heart beat loudly.

(My heartbeat is so loud.)

(Why am I feeling so nervous?)

Galileo: "There, try looking now."

Mitsuki: "Ah..."

Galileo gently guided my hand to the telescope.

My cheeks flushed as I peered through the lens, feeling the warmth of his cold hand.

Mitsuki: "It's beautiful..."

I sighed in awe, seeing the stars before me.

I glanced up and saw Galileo looking at the stars with a serene expression.

Galileo: "No matter the era, the brilliance of the stars remains unchanged."

Galileo: "They illuminate everything on Earth, regardless of hatred or sorrow, urging us not to turn away from the truth."

(Truth...)

His words stirred something within me, reminding me of certain words.

------------Flashback-----------

Galileo: "Fine. If you're going to speak as if you understand everything, then go and see it with your own eyes."

Galileo: "See with your own eyes what I am trying to accomplish and what my true desires are."

---------Flashback Ends--------

(One of the few things I've learned about Galileo is his belief in confirming the truth with his own eyes.)

“But why have you not observed this instead of reducing yourself to having to believe the tales of others? Why not see it with your own eyes?”

The words from the book he lent me echoed in my mind.

(He's someone who seeks the truth with his own eyes.)

(Huh? Didn't I have a conversation about someone seeking the truth before?)

------------Flashback-----------

Galileo: "Even if the truth is revealed, if it's inconvenient, they'll be condemned and excluded."

Galileo: "I know a fool who pursued the truth despite knowing this and ended up with a life sentence."

---------Flashback Ends--------

Suddenly, his words came to mind.

(Could that be…)

(Could that be him?)

It was one possibility I had arrived at.

However, I couldn't bring myself to voice it because I didn't want to disturb him as he gazed at the stars with fervent eyes.

(If it's true that he got a life sentence, then what could have happened in his past?)

(I don't really know how he lived as a historical figure, but I know he supported the heliocentric model and left the famous quote, "And yet it moves.")

It was frustrating that I only knew fragments of his history.

(I want to know more about him.)

(I want to understand him and touch his heart.)

Those feelings grew stronger.

Galileo: "Had enough of the stars?"

Mitsuki: "Huh?"

Galileo: "You've been lost in thought for a while now."

Mitsuki: "I was just..."

I looked up at the sky again, swallowing the rest of my words.

Mitsuki: "I was just thinking that they're still beautiful, even though I don't know their names."

I made that comment to hide my true feelings, but then a streak of light flashed across the sky above us.

Mitsuki: "A shooting star! Did you see it!?"

Galileo: "I saw it. Don't get too excited just because you saw one."

Mitsuki: "Sorry. But it was so beautiful! It was over so quickly."

Excitement bubbled up within me, and Galileo let out a sigh.

Galileo: "I didn't expect to see this side of you."

(.......)

For a moment, I felt like my breath had caught in my throat.

The smile I saw for the first time was so gentle.

(I really don't understand.)

(What are these feelings?)

My chest tightened, and I found myself unable to speak.

As if a shooting star had fallen, a nameless, tiny sparkle settled in my heart.

Previous Part ╎ Masterlist ╎ Next Part

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

saying goodbye

(cw: age gap 25/41; mndi, slight nsfw; angst, brief discussion of loss and fear of death)

the part before: comforting him

I wanted to do something nice for König before he goes on his next mission, before he has to leave. Which is quite the challenge to make it a surprise from him when you’re living together. Well, staying together, but it doesn’t change the fact that we spend most of our time with each other.

Another reason, why this doesn't feel like dating anymore. It doesn't feel like just being exclusive. It doesn't feel like a living arrangement because he broke my bed. Also, he seems to be doing better again, after the little downward spiral that plagued him at the end of last week. At the same time… I can't shake the feeling that he's a bit more closed off than he was before.

I sigh. He’ll leave in only two days and we agreed that I would go home tomorrow because, well… it can’t be postponed any longer.

I already knew he has to sort out some stuff today before being deployed, driving into the city, getting a medical check-up and also arranging the details for my new bed to finally be delivered. But this gives me the chance to pack up most of my stuff and prepare what I wanted to surprise him with while he is away for a few hours.

I went grocery shopping after work, got everything that the recipe called for, and started as soon I was back at his place. I cut so many onions for this, I’m all cried out, but I still can’t help the little lump sitting in the back of my throat, closing it up, which has nothing to do with the cut vegetables

He comes back earlier than I anticipated, mumbling something about an incompetent doctor and how he doesn’t like to have his blood drawn. But I shoo him out of his own kitchen with a few comforting words, tell him to sit in the living room and read something. And not disturb me.

“Aye-aye, Ma’am.”, he says, an amused smirk on his face as he jokingly salutes. I roll my eyes and laugh a little, patting his butt, to make him hurry along.

I still need to prepare the sidedish and let the stew cook for a little longer to make sure the meat is tender and the sauce is thick enough. At least that’s what the recipe said. And I need to make sure I do everything right.

When it’s finally done, the kitchen looks like somebody threw around food, although I did my best to clean up as I go.

I fill one of the soup dishes with the stew, putting the Nockerl in there as well, the dough already soaking up some of the sauce. I compare the dish in front of me with the picture from the recipe and I’m actually content with how it came out.

I set the plate down on the island where the seats are and call for König while I get myself a smaller portion. I hear his steps before his huge stature appears in the doorframe.

“Uh, dinner is ready.”, I say wryly smiling at him, with my plate in my hands. I set it down next to his.

“I can see that and I already smelled the cooking in the living room, it smells deli-“ The words gets stuck in his throat as he comes closer, stopping in front of the plate. He drops onto the seat, the furniture aching under his weight. The smile he was still wearing when he came into the kitchen has dissipated, his mouth hanging open, when he looks up from his plate, his eyes finding mine. He looks almost in shock.

I sit down next to him, suddenly very unsure if this whole ordeal even was a good idea.

“You cooked Gulasch?”, he asks, his voice wavering.

I nod. “Yes, I remember how you said that you liked it, so uh, I tried to make it.”

“But you’re vegetarian.”, he adds.

“Yes, but you aren’t. And the original recipe calls for beef.”, I explain, putting the doughy pillows that the Austrians call Nockerl onto my fork, scooping up some of the sauce. I just want to try a bit of, tasting a part of his origins.

He’s still staring as I put the fork into my mouth, and well, he didn’t promise too much when he was talking about his favourite food because that’s really delicious. Though I’m unsure about how authentic it is.

His gaze moves from me to the plate in front of him, finally picking up the fork, and he digs in, taking the biggest bite. I wait to see what his reaction would be like. He shovels two, three forkfuls into his mouth, chewing, tasting. And then suddenly just stops. Goes completely still. And I don’t know what’s going on as his head drops forward, his hair hanging in front of his face.

A small silent sob shakes his chest and a stray tear falls from his face into the stew. My heart drops to my feet. Fuck.

“We don’t need to eat it, if it’s no good.”, I say lightly, trying not to let it affect me. When I go to grab his plate, his head whips in my direction, and I finally get a good look at his face.

“What, no?! I-“ He takes a deep breath, his hand wiping over his eyes quickly, like the tear was never there. “This is the nicest thing somebody has done for me in a long time.”, he finally says. “And it reminds me of my Oma.” A deep sigh shakes his tall frame. “So, thank you, okay? It’s delicious.” He takes my hands, softly pulling them towards him, pressing a kiss on each palm.

The sadness in his eyes isn’t completely gone when I look into them, and I didn’t anticipate that this simple gesture of cooking him his favourite meal would have him in shambles like that. But the smile that turns up the corners of his mouth is a warm one, thankful and happy.

“You’re welcome.”, I simply tell him. “I’m glad you like it.” I press my lips to his, reassuring the big giant that it was okay, without saying it out loud.

When I pull back, he lingers, his hand shooting up to the back of my head, stealing another kiss. Long, deep and oh so soft. Another “thank you”, without saying it out loud.

“What was your Oma like?”, I ask him, taking a forkful of my sauced-up Nockerl. He talked about her before, but it might keep me from tearing up as well.

The smile on his face gets wider and he starts to tell stories about her. Leaving the other people in his family out of it, for the most part.

How she always asked him to get the stuff from the upper shelves because he was already taller than her at age 12. How he sat in the kitchen doing his homework while she cooked. How she stopped pestering him about going to church on Sunday eventually, but still almost smacked him in his head when he turned the cross in the living room upside down as a joke. How she cried when he joined the military because that was the last thing she wished for him. How she still let him go and how he had to promise her to come back – or else. How he helped her in the garden every time he came home and kept doing that well into his 30s. And how he nearly missed her funeral because he almost couldn’t get permission to leave for a few days.

König takes seconds and even thirds, eating almost all of the Gulasch I cooked. I’m already done sitting over my empty plate, listening to him talk, getting us something to drink. When he is done as well, he grabs the plates to wash up, not letting me help in any way, because “Oh no, you already cooked and everything”. He tells me to pick out a movie I’d like to watch, the glint in his eyes telling me that it’s probably going to get cut short again, so I put on Pulp Fiction, a movie we both have watched countless times before.

He laughs as he comes into the living room with a beer in his hand and sees my choice on the flatscreen, taking a seat at the couch and I hop onto his lap when his ass barely touched the cushions. We’re entangled, as close as you can be. And it doesn’t take long for his hands to wander. Squeeze, caress, stroke over my body. Teasing me with soft kisses against my neck until a heavy sigh leaves my lips. He takes that as an invitation to finally take me to the bedroom where he lies me down on the mattress to eat me out, while he kneels on the floor. Messy, sloppy licks and nibbles, his fingers methodically filling me until I cum for him, my thighs pressing together around his head.

He crawls over me, pushing into me with his dick, after teasing my clit some more with his tip, the piercing deliciously pressing into the sensitive nub.

Slow and sweet doesn’t mean less intense, the soft stretch with every sensual roll of his hips sending sensations over my body, making me pant and throw my head back with pleasure.

His hand on my chin compelling me look at him while he is fucking me like this… until it doesn’t feel like just fucking anymore. When I come again, this time around his dick, it feels like a soft wave washing over me, his name on my lips, and he doesn’t stop pushing into me, prolonging my orgasm and chasing his own until he spills inside me.

He presses kisses to my cheek, pulling me into him, and we snuggle up against each other to fall asleep. My back is against his front, the heat of his body warming me, that I don’t even need a blanket. Feeling the comfort of his embrace a little more clearly than usual.

And the realisation hits me that he is going to leave. And I’m gonna go back home, to my apartment. No more König when I come home from work. No shared meals in the kitchen, no sitting in his lap on the couch. No laughing fits in the middle of the night when one of us says something so stupid that the other can’t comprehend. No filthy sex and tender kisses. No calling him “old man” to get a rise out of him. No dirty punishment for my bratty ass. No feeling him inside me, his brows turned up, his eyes rolling back in ecstatic expression as he comes. None of it, at least for some time.

I push those thoughts away, pulling his arms tighter around me as if I could keep him like this. I close my eyes, ignoring the one stray tear that rolls down my cheek, and drift off into sleep.

And with this the day I have been dreading the whole week is finally here. The day when I return to my own apartment after staying with him for weeks. I even took a day off of work for this.

I’m trying not to let it show too much, because it’s a bit stupid. This living arrangement always was meant to be temporary and I always knew he was on leave, needing to go back to his work at some point sooner or later. But now that it’s here… I kinda don’t want it to happen at all.

The coffee tastes a little bitter as I sip it, even though he added just as much milk as usual, with the typical joking disgust while diluting the tasty elixir, that always makes me chuckle and shake my head.

The sunlight streaming through the big windows in the living room blinds me as it reflects off the shiny couch upholstery when I go to collect Mimi from her spot, putting her in the cat carrier.

The book I finished reading on the weekend gets caught when I push it into its place on the shelf, some of the pages creasing. I curse, showing König and apologizing. He takes the book from my grasp, straightening out the crinkles, and puts it back. “Don’t worry, Liebes, it’s just a book.”, he says, his arm coming around me as he pulls me against his warm body and presses a kiss to the top of my head.

I get the rest of my stuff, seeing that one of my yarn balls has tangled into a net of knots, and I curse again. Of course, it did. I put my crochet bag into one of the boxes and carry it outside.

With a sigh I look back over my shoulder one last time and close the door behind me, placing my stuff in the trunk and climbing into the driver’s seat of my own car. Starting it and driving after him, and it’s weird not to sit right next to him in his car.

It’s weird being home again. Letting Mimi out of her carrier, the little kitty running around, brushing against his legs. And he picks her up, carrying her around, just like they always do. The small creature is purring against his chest as he shimmies her around, humming some tune I can't place.

It’s weird standing here in my apartment with him, waiting for the bed to be delivered. I can feel my bubbly yapping coming back, not being able to shut up, and König is listening like he always does. Short, one-worded answers while his hand is petting Mimi, scratching between her ears and under her chin.

The doorbell ringing tears us from our conversation. The delivery guys are handing the packages over, asking if they should help bring them in, but König declines, giving them a tip and sending them their way.

I’m not as easily deterred from trying to help with the packages, although König is carrying most of them, barely breaking a sweat, while I struggle with the smallest one.

Sitting on the bedroom floor, his tall figure still reaching up to my hips before I get down next to him. He’s glancing at the instructions, squeezing his eyes together, but I can tell he’s having a hard time seeing the illustrations of the steps correctly.

And of course he is too stubborn to ask for help. I grin to myself and shake my head. “Forgot your glasses?”, I ask him, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah.”, he says wryly, and I extend my hand, suggesting silently he’ll hand over the instructions and he does, with a sigh and a little smile.

While I’m still studying the instructions, he’s laying out the pieces and already putting the first parts together. Of course, he is choosing the hands-on approach, even with stuff like that, figuring it out as he moves along, and I chime in with a few comments here and there, guiding the construction.

His long hair is getting in the way and I lend him a hair tie, and I don’t think I’ll ever manage to get over how meticulous he puts his hair in a ponytail. I mean, he probably has done that same move for years, his hands collecting all the stray strands, the band snapping around them with two quick motions and then it just sits perfectly at the back of his head.

We spent so much time together and I realise that I’ve never seen him do that. The whole time he was always wearing his hair down, some strands hanging in front of his face. Sometimes he put them into a lose bun when he was working out, but never like this.

“What?”, he asks me, a hint of uncertainty on his face.

I shake my head. “Nothing, your hair looks good like that.”, I say, clearing my voice when it dares to break off, but I save it with a smile which gets mirrored by his, and I can’t help but put a kiss onto it while a pang of something spreads in my chest. I feel like I know him so well, and yet I keep learning parts of him I’ve never seen before.

“Come on, Hexe.”, he says when I linger, prolonging the kiss, caught in my thoughts, his hand patting my hip which makes me giggle a bit, but I can't shake the feeling that's settling in my stomach. Fuck, he's gonna leave.

Pretty quickly we construct the bed, it’s easy enough, especially when you’re following the instructions – a sentiment I say out loud after he managed to stick two pieces together who fit, but actually belong like that. He just grins and pulls them apart easily, his muscles flexing for just a moment.

“Show-off.”, I say, sticking my tongue out at him.

Finally, the frame is done, the slats already fitted into it and last but not least, we hoist the mattress onto them.

“You didn’t need to buy me a new one, you know.”

He shoots me a look. A knowing one.

“Really, it was fine. The old one would have sufficed.”

“I have slept on that mattress. You needed a new one.”

“Oh, that's just your old bones.”, I quip, and I know how ridiculous I must sound telling that to a soldier who can probably sleep anytime anywhere.

He pinches my nose. “You're not getting younger yourself, Missy.”, he answers. "Your back will be thankful."

“Yeah, yeah.”, I say grinning and bump my hip against his, rather hitting the burly thigh, before getting some bedsheets.

The fresh sheets match the nice dark wood of the bedframe, the bed now looking so much nicer than the rest of my furniture pieces.

“Thanks. For the new bed.”, I tell him, smiling up at him, getting on my tiptoes.

“No need to thank me, Liebes.”, he answers, leaning down and meeting me halfway for a kiss. “It was my fault you needed a new one in the first place.”, a wry grin accompanying his words.

“Well, this looks much sturdier like the one I had before.” I tap the wooden frame, a hollow knock resounding.

“Well, I needed to make sure that it wouldn’t break that easily again.”, he says, smiling down at me, a twinkle in his eyes. A reminder of how we broke it in the first place.

“Care to test that theory?”, I ask him cheekily, although I’m not really in the mood right now. My heart is way too heavy.

Before I can say anything else, he grabs me by the waist and lifts me up on the bed, the mattress dipping down under my weight. His hands are steadying me when I start to jump up and down, bouncing on it. Damn, it’s really nice. And I don't dare to ask how much he spent on it.

“Sturdy enough, you think?”, he asks me.

I nod. “You wanna come up here too?”, I tease him.

He shakes his head, just grinning, following my movements up and down with his eyes.

“Oh come on!”, I exclaim, not ready to stop this sillyness.

He pulls up his eyebrows. “I don’t think that would be wise, we don’t need to push it.”, he grins, when all of a sudden, there’s a faint cracking sound, and I stop, almost toppling over trying to hold my balance on the wobbling mattress.

“Point and case.”, he remarks as his arms coming around my waist as he lifts me off the bed.

“Okay, okay…”

I hold onto him like a little spider monkey, my legs closing around him, my cheek pressing against his shoulder as I nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck. Like I could keep him here like that. Or he’ll just take me with him when I stick to him like a limpet. Maybe I’m small enough to fit into his pocket.

My fingers get caught in his hair as I try to run them through it like I always do, and he pulls the hair tie from them, putting it away, letting me play with the long strands, as he goes to sit down.

The couch in my apartment is way smaller than his, his frame fills the cushions easily, so I have nowhere else to sit but his lap. Like I would have sat anywhere else. Trying to be as close to him as possible.

We’re not saying anything, just sitting here. My head rests against his shoulder, his scent all around me. I can hear his heart beat, feel it beneath my fingertips resting on his chest. Steady and strong, but a little too fast.

His hands are gently caressing my thighs and back, and even though I feel the sadness seep into me, the soft touches ground me.

We sit in silence for what seems eternity while at the same time lasting barely more than the blink of an eye. And I wish we could remain in this moment, frozen in time, but well.

He sighs softly, the deep sound pulling me from my thoughts, and I lift my head, to look at him.

“We need to say goodbye.” He slumps back, his shoulders hitting the backrest. “I wish I didn’t need to go.”, he exhales. Saying what I was thinking.

"Don't worry, I'll still be here when you're on leave again.", I tell him, softly kissing his cheek. He turns to me, the expression on his face serious and... a bit sad.

"But you shouldn't be.", he says, calm and steady.

"But-", I want to protest.

He shakes his head. "No, you should be with somebody your age, someone who can give you stability." He sighs. "Someone who can guarantee you that they'll come back to you. Every time they leave."

And the realisation hits me. He isn't saying goodbye for now. He's saying goodbye for good.

“I see.”, is all I manage because my feelings come crashing down over me with a vicious fervor. I thought I was going to have to deal with him leaving for weeks or months. With him being gone for a while. Not with a breakup.

“I’m sorry.”, he apologizes and starts to explain. “I never meant for this to go this far or… this deep.” The admission in his words makes my stomach flip upside down. I actually feel a little nauseous as my hands grip my own thighs, trying to hold onto something. “And I should’ve maybe said something earlier.” He swallows hard.

“The truth is that I had the best time this leave, and that was solely because of you.” He finally looks at me again, the raw emotions in his eyes almost scaring me. But the resolve in them is clear as well. “I couldn’t get myself to break it off. But I can’t make you wait for me either. Because I can’t even promise you that I will return.” His voice is shaking now and seeing him like this makes my lower lip tremble as I just try to breathe.

“And I can’t do that to you. The thought of you waiting for me at home and only a casket coming back… has been killing me inside these past few days.” The words come out choked and I can’t look at him anymore, my head snapping to the side as that image fills my mind. “Fuck, I’m really sorry, okay?”

We sit here like this for a moment longer. His hands stopped caressing my thighs and back, and I want to scream. The cold feeling of loss grips my heart, a viciously clawed hand leaving gaping wounds as it was making its way up my chest. He’s still sitting underneath me, but I feel like he’s already gone.

“I get it.”, I finally say, my voice trembling and hoarse. Still not able to look at him because I wouldn’t have been able to hold back my tears.

“I knew you would.”, he says, the words breaking up as he speaks. And I think back to when he told me that he couldn’t have a partner or family because his job won’t allow it. And I finally get why he thinks like that. At least I guess so. The big house devoid of any life but him, his own little safe haven, and I only now understand how temporary this whole arrangement really had been. I just didn’t see it. Maybe because I didn’t want to.

While I still try to process everything, he lifts me up and sets me down on the cushions of the couch. Like he did countless times the last few weeks. In his living room. And a sob tears from my chest because the gesture reminds me of so many tender and filthy moments at the same time. I hug my knees, pulling them close to me, already missing the warmth of his body. But that’s the way it is now, I guess.

He crouches down, coming face to face with me, and it just hurts to look at him. The bandshirt he bought for the concert we went to together. The tattoos on his knuckles, straining from the tension in his balled-up fists. The long dark hair, pushed to the side, falling back down his shoulder. I don’t need to touch it, to know how soft it feels. The mouth that smiled at me so often. The lips I have kissed countless times and that have kissed every inch of my body. The furrowed brows. The slack expression on his face concealing the laughlines. And for the first time since I’ve known him looking into his eyes doesn’t give me comfort.

He carefully takes my chin, the pads of his fingertips rough against the skin, softly digging into my jaw, like he likes – liked to do. He leans forward pressing a kiss to my lips which almost makes the tears drop from my eyes. A kiss to say goodbye, gentle and bittersweet.

"Stay safe, okay?", he whispers, his eyes looking intently into mine, but I can only nod. My throat is closed up because I know he won't be safe. Not saying anything because I don't want to cry in front of him. Because that will only make it harder, on both of us.

He straightens back up and leaves. The door falls shut behind him.

And I finally let the waterworks flow, sobs shaking my chest as I throw myself into the couch where he sat just a few moments ago.

Mimi’s meow pulls me from my crying fit when she jumps up onto the couch, her little head bumping into me, and I pull her against my chest, the tears rolling down my cheeks. And the odd thought crosses my mind if the crinkles in the book on his shelf are the only remainders of me in his house. While I have this new bed.

How did we get here? Masterlist

a/n: i have been working on this chapter for months and i knew what was coming and now that it's finished, i can't help but still feel the sadness hitting me 🥲 - and no, this is not the last chapter (in case you were fearing that rn) take this recipe for authentic austrian beef gulasch as a token of my apology

[writingroom21]

The Nanny

Pairing: rafe x nanny reader

Summary: Being Wheezie's nanny was great. The only downside is dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?

Warnings: 18+, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (Practice safe sex), cream pie, slapping, chocking, squirting

Wc: 5.3K

Chapter 3: Guess we're both broken

Waking up the next morning, you tossed over to the otherside, noticing the sheets were cold. Peaking through sleep coated eyes you realize that Rafe is gone. Sitting Up you look around the room, his shirt and shorts gone as well. Not surprised that he was gone, a sinking feeling is in your chest, he used you. Once again you are left knowing that you shouldn’t have thought anything else. Should have known him being on his best behavior recently was just another ploy to sleep with you, knowing that he won. 

The rest of the day was spent moping around Tannyhill, grateful that you didn’t need to see him. Sarah being the only person you see when she stops by to get some of her things before running off again to stir up trouble. The day was so uneventful that you even decided to go to your parents cookout. Which turned out as awful as you expected it to go.

Reaching your childhood home you can see your neighbors scattered around the lawn. You notice your dad on the grill talking to one of the other dad, most likely talking about what rub or glaze he used this time. Walking around you greeted a few people who stopped you to ask how work is going. “That Cameron boy is causing you any trouble is he?” If only you knew, you thought. “No he’s not. They are all really respectful to me.” In hindsight it wasn’t a lie, they have been really nice making you feel welcomed. If the past two nights hadn’t happened you wouldn’t be so apprehensive to say it, but they did happen.

Everything seemed to be going well until you reached your mom. She was talking to some of her friends when she saw you walking their way. “Well if it isn’t my precious little angel. Hardly recognize you since we never see you.” She chuckles, trying to mask the insult with laughter. Taking a deep breath you give her a hug. “I know, I’m sorry. Been trying to visit but it’s been hectic.” Saying hi to the rest of the group was met with few words, some of them not replying at all. “How much work can it really be? The young one is practically an adult herself.” Your mom has a way of making everything you do seem insignificant or an inconvenience to her, your job being one of them. 

“You’d be surprised. Wheeze is a saint but she does give me a run for my money. I should go say hi to dad before he feels left out.” With that you walked off to greet your dad. The rest of the night was a never ending cycle of your parents making small jabs at you. Making you and the rest of the party uncomfortable every time they spoke. The cherry on the cake was when they pulled off to the side just as you were about to leave. “Sweetie, we need to ask you something and before you start getting mad you need to agree to hear us out.” Your dad says sitting on the couch looking at you, your mom next to him nodding along to his words. “Okay.”

“So you see we really need to fix up the house. You know how bad the AC is, you would have better luck keeping the fridge door open then that thing working.” Oh god you can already see where this is going, eyes rolling waiting for them to ask you for money. “Don’t roll your eyes at us, we are your parents.” Your mother scolded. “Anyway.” your dad continues. “We don’t have the money to get it fixed. The mortgage is barely even being covered as it is, we just need you to spot us some money. Just enough to get us going.” Taking a deep breath and cooling your nerves. “How much?” you ask.

“4,000.” Your eyes widen at the price, that's a whole month's worth of pay, let alone you don’t have that on you right now due to helping them out. “4,000? You need me to give you 4,000 dollars? By when?” The questions shootout at them. “Yes 4,000 and we need it now preferably.” So that’s why they invited you today, not because they miss you like they claim but because they need money. “I don’t have that kind of money on me or in my account.” “What do you mean you don’t have that money? What’s the point of working for some kooks if they don’t pay you well.” Your dad scoffs turning and looking at your mom. “What did I tell you? I told you she wouldn’t help us.”

This really can’t be happening right now. You have been working since you were 14 to contribute to the bills, every paycheck going straight into their hands. “I have been helping you. I’ve been helping you for the past six years with every bill in this house.” “We never asked you to do that.” Your mother rebuttals, taking another sip from the glass of wine in her hand. “Yes you have!.” you exclaim. “You are literally asking me for 4,000 dollars as we speak. Every time you ask me for money I hand it over without making a fuss, but this I can’t do. I have my own expenses, you know.”

“What expenses? All of a sudden you live in a fancy mansion and you’re too good to help out your parents.” Your dad’s words hurt you. You have tried to be their perfect daughter your whole life. The perfect grade, the scholarship, then declining the scholarship because they begged you not to go. Every life choice you’ve made has been to cater them and their wants. “Yes, dad, my expenses. I have my own car that I pay for by myself, a car loan as well, I even have to buy my own groceries. Then on top of that I send the both of you practically all of my paychecks. I’ve been scraping by trying to make it all work, why can’t the two of you just realize I can’t do this.” Your pleas fall onto deaf ears as they both get up from the couch. “If you aren’t willing to help us then there’s nothing left to talk about. You know where the door is.”

Watching as the walk away tears threaten to spill from your eyes. The drive back to Tannyhill seemed longer than it usually did. The conversation played on repeat throughout the whole drive. Parking your car you rush to the front door, all you want to do is lay in your bed and cry. Tears are already falling from your eyes as you close the front door. “Well what do we have here, country club? This that nanny you keep hiding from me?” You recognize the voice, you’ve seen and heard him around Tanny when Rose or Ward is gone. Barry is his name you think not really caring to find out you just walk down the hall. “Not much of a talker I see.”

“Leave her alone.” Rafe’s voice makes your ears perk up. Even though every muscle in your body is telling you to keep walking and not to look at him, you cave. Eyes meeting he can see the tears in them. “You okay, sunny?” You can’t do this right now, can’t get caught up in him just for him to leave once again. Without saying a word you brush past him, bounding up the stairs to the second floor. But before you can slam your bedroom door you can hear Barry talk. “The fuck you do to her?”

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The next morning you had yourself locked in your room just thinking. First about your parents and then about Rafe, then your parents and Rafe once again. It was torture having to sit in the room replaying ever interaction to see where things went wrong. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell you about the Rafe situation but it might for your parents. 

Looking at the clock by the bed you see that it's almost one in the afternoon. Deciding that you can’t sit her a mope for the rest of your life, you get up and get ready. Ward had given you a membership to the country club when you first started, he thought it would be better since you can accompany Wheezie when she goes. A nice relaxing day at the club, eating the fancy food is just what you needed.

It didn’t take long to get there or to find a seat by the pool, most of the people are on the golf course anyway. The only people by the pool are the wives that have kids and the teens who were there for the lifeguard. Stripping from clothes you are left in the red bikini you wore, you put on some sunscreen before laying down on the lounge chair soaking up the rays. 

The sun feels nice against your skin, the heat relaxing your tense muscles finally being given a break. After about thirty minutes you flip over allowing your back to tan, not wanting to be uneven. The sound of kids laughing and the busy club lull you into a peaceful mind. So what if your parents are upset? You have done more than enough to help them out over the years, you can’t keep digging them out of their messes. Who even knows where most of the money you send them goes, it’s definitely not toward the house.

So what if Rafe is a dick who just uses girls and dumps them to the side? You can’t control who he is and clearly he just wanted to hookup nothing more. All that you can do now is just keep to yourself, it’s better to protect your peace then being his new play thing. Then why does it hurt? Shaking off the thoughts you notice how hot you started to get. 

The sun is beating down on you, sweat forming on your skin causing you to stick to the chair. Getting up you head into the pool, the cold warmer cooling you off as you float. You didn’t know this but a few feet away on the dining patio sat Rafe with Topper and Kelce. Rafe was half listening while the two boys talked about something he didn’t care about. His mind kept bringing back the picture of your crying face from last night.

As soon as Barry left he went straight to your room but the door was locked. He sat there for a second and heard nothing from the otherside of the door, assuming you went to bed he left for his room. When he woke up this morning it was all that he could think of, seeing you like that hurt him. You looked like he did after his dad made him feel less of, the thought of you feeling like that made his blood boil. But showing you he cared shows that he needs you, that he actually cares for, that’s not who he is.

No Rafe is the type of guy that fucks everything in his life up, dropped out of school, is a failure to his dad and in relationships. That's what he’s good at, you’ll see it eventually so why even try? Looking out to the course, he can see the pool from here, looking at all the bodies laying around. The red swimsuit draws his eyes down your body, recognizing you as you walk out the pool. The water drips down your stomach, down your legs, but the droplet in between your breasts has him staring. 

Rafe isn’t the only one staring, the few teen boys are staring, then there’s the lifeguard. Rafe remembers him from school and doesn’t like the fact he’s staring at you. He watches as you dry yourself off, putting the shirt and shirt you wore back on. Looking as you gather your things and escape his view as you leave, the boys gather his attention. “Dude are you even listening?” His eyes move back to them “Yeah.” 

You make your way through the halls, carding through your memory to remember how to get to the dining. As you walk, members of the club look at you, judging you for the way your shirt has wet spots from your swimsuit and hair. You decide to sit at the bar not wanting to deal with anyone today. “How can I help you m’lady.” You put the menu down to meet JJ’s gaze. “Oh my god! Jayj hi.” You squeal, catching the attention of patrons including Rafe. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while. Joining the darkside has really changed you.” He looks around before leaning a bit closer. “How is it on the other side? Miss us already?” He teases. “Of course I miss all of you.” You playful push his shoulder, JJ raises his hands up in surrender before resting his body weight on the bar counter arms next to yours. Rafe stares in shock at the scene playing in front of him. You, his girl, flirting with fucking Maybank of all people.

He sees JJ push a piece of hair behind your hair and you giggle. The chair scraping against the floor alerted the boys, he didn’t even realize he was even up and walking over to the two of you. “Where are you going?” Kelce calls out to him. “I’ll be right back.” As he gets closer he can hear your conversation more clearly. “You should come to the bonfire this week. I’ll make it worth your time.” JJ flirts, Rafe coming up right behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Looking over your shoulder you can see the look of anger on his face and the smirk painted on JJ's face. 

“Sunny! I didn’t know you were going to be here. Maybank why don’t you run along and get me another drink.” He says with a condescending tone, glaring at the blonde boy. “Rafe.” You say as a warning, already seeing how this is going to end. “What? I’m just asking the help to do his job. Right Maybank?” “I was actually helping out this beautiful customer. Ain’t that right baby?” JJ remarks getting closer to you. The look on Rafe’s face could probably kill JJ if he tried hard enough.

Rafe leans against the counter, his body facing you. “You really slumming it around with this loser? You like being around trash?” His comment made you see red.  How fucking dare he? You knew he kinda took the kook and pogue thing seriously but to call them trash. It’s like he forgets that you are also a pogue, that if it wasn’t for his father you would still be living on the cut with the rest of them. Which is true, he doesn't see you as a pogue or the help. 

To him you’re a kook, you belong with them, with him. “Yes I do. Now this trash is going to take itself out like the “help” do.” You say quoting help as a reminder that you also are the help. “I’ll see you around Jayj.” You tell the blonde looking at you with worried eyes before storming off. “Yeah see ya.” He calls out looking at Rafe for a moment. “Man I knew you were dumb but god damn. That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever seen you do.” He laughs and walks away to go serve other customers. Rafe knows he’s right, potentially just fucked up whatever the two of you had before it actually really started. More than he has already done by ignoring you for the past day and a half.

He makes his way back to the table, the guys watching as he takes out a wad of cash and throwing it on the table. “I gotta go.” He exclaims, rushing to try and catch you before you have the chance to fully leave. Racing out of the building he sees you in the distance looking for your car. Jogging he catches up to you grabbing your arm and yanking you back to him. “Let go of of me!” You yell at him turning and pushing his chest hard. “No! Come one just talk to me.” He exclaims fighting you to make you stay and hear him out. “Are you kidding me? Talk it out? You just insulted me and my friend.” “No I insulted him. I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

You scoff pulling your arm free from his grip. “So calling him trash just because he’s a pogue doesn’t insult me? I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m also a pogue. I came from the cut just like he does. Does that shit actually really mean something to you? Are you that fucking stupid?” Rafe’s been called stupid many times in his life, from Ward, his sisters, hell even Rose has called him stupid. He knows that he makes things difficult and not many people like him. But hearing you call him stupid fills him with more rage then seeing Maybank think he can have his girl. “Hey don’t you fucking dare. Say whatever every the fuck you want but I ain’t stupid you fucking hear me.” 

He grips your cheeks, pinching them together. “Don’t you ever call be stupid again got it?” You should be scared, you’ve seen his temper before, seen him throw shit around the house or get into a fight with people at parties. You don’t know what to do being on the receiving end of his anger, then his words ring in your ear making you angry all over again. That ache in your pants is ignored as you wrench your head out of his hand. “I don’t know what your problem is but if you put your hands on me again you’ll regret it. You think just because everyone else is scared of you that I will be too? News flash buddy I’m not.” “Don’t call me buddy.” His voice was weaker than it was when he was yelling. 

“You don’t get it.” He states turning away from you and letting you go. “You’re right I don’t. You don’t talk to me for two days completely ignoring me after you got what you wanted. Then when I’m catching up with a friend you come in guns blazing as if the world is about to end. What’s wro-“ “He was touching and flirting with you.” He cuts off your rant, stunning you into silence. “So what if he was?” Rafe’s eyes darken hearing you defend him, telling him you actually enjoyed the attention that you were getting from another guy. “So what?” He laughs differently from his normal one, darker than what you are used to.

 “You really think I want some other guy touching you? Do you fuck him too?” “You’re jealous?” You meant it as a statement but it came out more like a question. “Yeah I’m jealous. All those guys in there would give up all their money just to get a chance with you. You don’t know them like I do, they would jump at the chance to get with a beautiful girl.” This is the third time he’s insinuated you are beautiful in some way. “Well maybe I should give them a shot. You obviously” His lips crash to yours, not allowing you to finish. This is different from the other kisses you’ve shared, more intense. He’s trying to tell you he’s scared of losing you, a crazy thought considering you aren’t even his.

How can he feel so strongly for you than he already did? It’s no secret that he’s always had a thing for you but this is different. The thought of you leaving him for another person actually terrifies him. Everyone has left him and he can’t stand the thought of you being another person who walks away. You try fighting him again but all efforts die when his tongue makes its way into your mouth. Rafe has this effect on you that you can’t explain.

There was always this soft spot for him but now that the lines have muddled together it’s hard to separate your feelings. Arms wrap around his shoulder pulling the two of you closer to each other, bodies pressed together. He pulls away from you for a second allowing the two of you to catch your breaths.  “Get in the car. I’ll meet you back at the house.” Fully pulling away you straighten out your clothes that got a little skewed from making out. He goes to walk to his truck, you stop him. “You can’t just get upset like that and make a scene. If this thing between us is going to work you have to talk to me, okay?” Eyes softening looking at your expression he takes a step forward placing a kiss on your forehead. “Okay.” With that he walks away leaving you standing in the middle of the parking lot wondering what the hell just happened.

The both of you race back to Tanny, Rafe’s truck behind your car. Reaching the house, you make your way inside waiting for him to get here, you lost him at a red light on the way over. You go to the kitchen to get water, the sound of the front door opens, Rafe’s footsteps echoing through the hall. “You think you can just go around and flirt with people?” He’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, white polo stretching around his biceps. “I thought we talk-” “No I’m not done.” He enters the room, staring at your body with dark eyes. “Strip.”

The grip on the water bottle tightens. “What?” Rafe is now in front of you, taking the water from your hands, whipping the stray drop on your lips. His thumb gently pulls your bottom lip before releasing it. “Strip and get on your knees. I need to teach you a lesson, I don’t like people thinking they can have what’s mine.” You look at him before following the instructions, staring up at him as he unbuttons his pants to take his dick out.

“Open.” You do without a second thought. “Good girl.” He mumbles, forcing himself in and setting a brutal pace. You have to catch yourself on his thighs just so you don’t fall, his hand holding you in place. Hips thrusting into you, your throat gladly accepts the intrusion, gargling on his length. Tears pooling on your bottom lashes, spilling down your cheeks, making Rafe go harder on you. “Look at you. A mess of spit and tears for my cock. Think maybank can do this for you?”

He’s still on about what happened at the club, to tell the truth you were too. His jealousy causes mixed emotions in you. On one instance you like seeing how possessive he was for you, on the other he resorts to insults to get his way. You give him a rough suck, eyes meeting his. “Fuck.” Rafe pulls out, yanking you up and bending you over the kitchen island. His body covering yours as he lines himself up, you're so wet that you aren’t worried about the pain. You were sure that he would fit, no preparation needed. “Told you I would bend you over and fuck the shit out of you.”

With that he slammed into you, moaning at the feeling of your walls stretching to accommodate his size. He halts when he’s ball deep, giving you a moment to gather yourself, only a moment. His thrust pushes you further into the island, sure enough to leave marks on your hip tomorrow morning. You don’t even care, he feels too good, the feeling of him stretching you is overwhelming. Whimpers keep leaving your mouth. Rafe grabs your arms, using them as leverage to fuck you harder as he keeps them pinned behind you back by one hand.

“Harder.” You moan out. Your body tingling from all the pleasure he’s giving you, your peak creeping around the corner embarrassingly fast. “Yeah? My little slut wants me to fuck her faster?” The degradation goes straight to your clit, walls fluttering around his length. He goes harder for a few minutes before pulling out, a whine of protest leaving you. “You don’t get to cum yet.” Rafe’s hot breath in your ear, his body heat leaving you too. 

He turns you around and hoists you onto the island, spreading your legs to step in between them. Left hand going to guide himself back into you, gliding across your fold to get you hip and bring you closer to the edge. In this angle he hits you deep, pushing against your cervix with each thrust.

Wrapping a hand around your neck, he squeezes lightly just enough to have your mind all fuzzy. You roll your eyes back grasping onto his bicep, manicured nails digging into his flesh leaving crest shaped marks. Rafe hisses at the sensation enjoying the flash of pain radiating in his arm. He starts fucking you hard, pounding into you having his dick spear into your g-spot. His unoccupied hand takes hold of your hair, pulling you till your foreheads are pressed together. His watch digging into the back of your neck, chested firmly pressed to each other, sharing each breath.

 “Squeezing my dick so fucking good baby. Can you hear how bad your pussy needs it?” Rafe moans out. You can, you’re so wet that every time he fucks into you squelching fills the room. You open your mouth but a particular thrust makes you moan instead. The hand in your hair retracts, your head leaning back slightly, it comes down on your cheek. It wasn’t hard enough to really hurt but enough to have pain heat your face. You moan liking the feeling of the smack, mostly just enjoying the fact that he lost himself to the point of causing a bit of pain. 

“You like me hitting you baby?” When you moan he smacks you again, annoyed that you won’t speak. “Use your words.” Rafe’s hand cupping your jaw staring at your fucked out expression, the hand around your neck tightens as his pace increases. You’re wetness mixing with his pre-cum leaking out of you, making a mess between you two. “I like it sir.” It comes out more like a breath but it counts. “My good little girl. You gonna cum for me? Hmm cum for daddy.” The new nickname was the nail in the coffin, the tightness in your belly finally snapping.

 This feeling was a new thought. It was so intense and it didn’t feel like an orgasim that you’ve had before. Your walls squeeze rage so tight that it pushes him out of you, your release gushing out getting everything wet. “Did you just fucking squirt?” Rafe pushes his dick back in, fucking you harder than before. “Such a dirty fucking slut, squirting and getting everything wet.” Moans keep getting pulled from you, pouring out into his mouth as he sloppily kisses you. “Oh fu-fuck… I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it.” “Inside please.” 

If telling him to cum inside you didn’t make him cum, it was the please that did it. Rafe ruts into you, hips stuttering as he fills you with each squirt of him cum. The warm feeling making you moan and flutter against him. He rides out both of your highs, hips finally stopping when they met yours, keeping you plugged. He want to stay there, wants to just feel you, wrapping his arms around your body. He’s enjoying knowing you are stuffed full of him, that his cum is so deep that it's forced out around him. Pulling out slowly you both hiss, you at the feeling of him spilling from you, and him as he’s fixated watching it come out. 

Kissing you for a moment, Rafe pulls away walking to the sink, wetting a rag before going back to clean you up. The touch is so gentle that it barely hurts. He helps you put your clothes back on dragging the both of you over to the living room. He throws himself down on the couch taking you along with him, pulling you closer . “What happened last night.” You hand playing with his shirt stops. “Huh?” Moving your head to his shoulder you look him in the eyes. “You were crying last night. What happened?” 

“Oh” Trying to shift away from him, being blocked by his arms tightening keeping you in place. “It was just some fight with my parents. It’s nothing.” “It is something, it made you cry.” You wish he would stop trying to pry, it’s not as if he cares. Honestly you expected him to flee once your clothes were back on. Pulling you to the couch was unexpected but asking you to talk about your parents was too much. Too personal. The lines of friendship and having feelings are already getting muddled as it is, this would just push it further. 

“Hey.” It’s soft, lips brushing my forehead before he places a kiss there. “You said we have to communicate, right? Talk to me.” With a sigh you tell him everything. How since you were barely able to work you gave them all your money last night. “They expected me to just hand over 4,000 dollars like it’s nothing. Then when I finally put my foot down I’m a disappointment. Nothing I do anymore is right.” Rafe’s hand rubs your arms trying to soothe you. 

“You aren’t a disappointment. If they can’t handle the fact you have your own life then fuck them.” You slap his chest lightly. “I’m serious. You’ve done more than enough for them, if they can’t see that then it’s their loss." A moment of silence, his words soaking in as you both lay there. “Thank you. I” You don’t know what else to say, fingers tracing shapes along his chest. 

“I know what you’re feeling. My dad um he always lets me know how much of a fuck up I am. I know what it’s like to be a disappointment, you don’t even come close.” The confession felt foreign on his tongue. Rafe never opened up to anyone about his feelings, anytime he tried he was met with a “man up” or “this is how a man handles things”, he’s scared of what you will say. He feels you slip from his arms, closing his eyes not wanting to see you leave him alone, trying to calm the burning behind his eyelids. 

“I don’t think you’re a failure.” Blue eye’s open to meet yours, there’s a hint of vulnerability from what you can see. You lean down pecking his lips, pulling away to get a better look of him. “You’re more than what he sees. It’s a shame he doesn’t take the time to notice.” It was your turn to leave him without words. He’s searching your eyes, your face, for any sign that you were lying. That you were pitying him after he devolved a hidden secret. He knows you’ve heard his Dad yell at him but this is different. 

He can put on a mask after talking to Ward when he has to see you. This time he tore the mask off, wanting you to see him without the facade. “I don’t think that about you.” “Huh?” You respond with confusion filling your face. “I don’t think that you’re trash. You are probably the best thing to come out of Outer Banks.” He’s not lying or at least you don’t think he is. The look in his eyes tells you that he actually means it so you smile down at him. “The best thing huh.” You tease. “Don’t push it.”

[stelladess]

On power creep, card games (mostly as an example) and gacha. Also how to prioritize what characters/cards to try and get. Kinda felt the discussion around power creep in the context of gacha is often kind of... incendiary and not very helpful, we are all here to have a good time.

So, this was mostly some stuff I have been thinking about in relation to Arknights, because I do not play Star Rail as seriously and play no other gachas then those two. I have played the yu-gi-oh card game since I was a little kid (some of my earliest memories is learning the game from my brothers or playing Kaiba the revenge on PC) so I am coming at this from a primarily TCG perspective and with the prior background of "has played game which has been made unrecognizable by power creep, and still loved playing it." So obviously, this already predisposes me to not see power creep as the biggest deal.

So... first of all, the incentives that causes power creep! Well this is pretty straightforward, the way a trading card game or a gacha makes money is by making you want to spend money on new cards/characters. You also need to have a solid team or deck as a whole, usually you cannot just brute force your way on a single powerful card or character. As a result to prevent players from just getting one strong team/deck and then never updating again is why we end up with power creep, since the option of just outright banning cards tends to piss people off even more and is straight up not a thing they do in gacha games. As a result, since players will usually not want to spend money/pulls on a character who will not improve their team/deck, especially when its so often chance based what you even get, it means that to make people keep pulling packs you gotta upgrade the power over time of new units. Generally the developers want to keep this at a slower pace, since it feels bad if someone gets a great character/card and then one month later they are weak, and if people feel like what they put in do not pay off they will not keep playing. But occasionally there are bigger bursts of power creep to kind of bring the state of the game to a new level, often brought on by accidentally making something too strong, at least that is how I think this goes from my experience. But for example, if when Typhon came out her damage was worse or just on par with Rosa, how many would have pulled for her? Sure you´d get some who would because they like her story, personality, design, etc. But not that many would have if we are being completely honest here.

This is not to say that power creep cannot be a problem, especially if too severe, as already touched on earlier it feels really bad when your favorites no longer hold up. I just want to highlight that it is an inherent part of the game that cannot really be avoided. It can also add a big pressure to feel like you have to keep up by getting all the new characters or cards, which can cause a lot of stress due to the random nature of who you get. Which is where the other thing I wanted to talk about comes in....

You do not need every strong or limited character. And in fact you wont use most of them because you have finite team space. In a trading card game you focus in on a playstyle you like, or a few if its affordable enough, and then focus on building and enhancing those instead of getting every good card in the game. I think this is the healthiest way to view it in a gacha too. Prioritize who suits your playstyle and your team, or to fill weak spots you got (or you just like as a character of course). You do not need all the top tier characters in the game. You can skip multiple top tier characters in fact and still do just fine, these games are not balanced around the assumption you have *every* single one of the best characters or cards. And in fact, having to slowly make adjustments to better suit your needs is, to me at least, one of the most fun parts. And a lot of the strategy and fun of these kinds of games disappear if you have access to all the strongest options and can just brute force things. It is not healthy for your mental state to fret over having to have all the best options and it makes the game less fun, to me at least. These games assume you only have maybe half of the top tier options, and you can beat pretty much everything with that if you put some effort into strategizing, which is fun~!

[sluttyten]

So I’ve been given the potential opportunity in a few weeks to either 1) go visit one of my close work friends who moved 2.5 hours away like 6mos ago, but if I do that it means working with her and our other work friend at her store, which means working 12 days straight, 2 of which would be at a store that is absolute insanity, OR 2) I could not do that and instead possibly get last minute Taylor Swift tickets with my best friend and head 2.5 hours in the opposite direction

[andthebeanstalk]

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: IT'S YOU AND ME, THAT'S MY WHOLE WORLD

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: one kiss turns into two, and before you know it, an innocent gaming session turns into something more. (streamer!au)

contents: fem!reader. suggestive (kissing/making out). the ending can be interpreted as sex. non-sexual usage/mentions of lollipops bc i have a sweet tooth and i want a lollipop rn. i didn't really spend a lot of time on this one, but i thought i'd post it anyways. whatever, your favorite streamer boyfriend is back! did you miss him? (the answer is yes). -1K words.

"you're not that good, are you?" you ask with a grin, twirling a lollipop in between your fingers. in front of you, satoru's avatar gets shot down by a couple others for what seems like the hundredth time, and right on cue, satoru curses his bad luck. "you know, maybe you'd be better if you were actually focusing on the game."

"it's not my fault," satoru insists petulantly, a childish pout appearing on his face. he sticks out his bottom lip and rests his chin on top of your head. "how am i supposed to be able to focus with you in my lap?"

you stick your lollipop in your mouth and shrug, a little smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you hum indifferently. "sounds like you're just making excuses..."

"oh?"

satoru pinches your cheek teasingly with the hand not resting on top of his mouse, fingers skating from the side of your face to your lips as he tugs out the lollipop. he ignores your halfhearted protests and pops it into his mouth, smiling cheekily as he does so. in the darkening computer screen in front of you, you can see your boyfriend's smug expression, which smirks back at you. "mmm, this flavor's good. what is it?"

"strawberry, i think," you reply instinctually. satoru shakes his head in response, taking the candy out of his mouth and twirling the stick in between his thumb and index finger before he corrects you.

"actually, i think it's you i'm tasting," he quips, clicking around with his mouse for a second before he opens up the photo app. your reflection gazes back at the two of you in satoru's comfortably large gaming chair.

"no wonder you have no game," you deadpan, looking away from the mirror image of you and satoru and towards the ceiling.

"baby, you're literally sitting in my lap right now."

"yes, and?"

satoru's laugh is clear and blue, like a sunlit sky in the middle of june. it almost feels like he hasn't been able to stop smiling around you ever since "the incident," and honestly, you wouldn't have it any other way.

he sticks the lollipop in between your lips and stops you from verbally bashing him any more than you already have. the sweet, tangy taste is a welcome sensation in your mouth, and satoru can't help but smile endearingly when your reflection looks at him with round eyes. "you're so cute," he mumbles, punctuating each word with a kiss to the top of your head.

a soft giggle slips out of your lips in response. "shut up." even as you say that, you already know his answer. if there was one bet you'd make without a doubt, it'd be that satoru can never seem to shut up whenever you're in his line of sight.

satoru's hands find themselves on your waist, and they turn you around so you're facing him. there's a different (but not unpleasant) look in his eyes as he gazes at you, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"what is it?" you ask curiously, noticing the subtle change in his expression. his eyes soften from what looked like a teasing glance to an almost longing stare.

"nothing," he hums, kissing you in between your eyes. "you're just pretty."

satoru's hands thread themselves through your hair, lightly touching the back of your neck as his lips move down to brush against yours. you extract the lollipop from between your lips and tilt your chin up, kissing satoru with a little smile. like always, he tastes like sweetened peppermints, even though you've never seen him eat one before. you'll have to ask about that later, but for now, all you can focus on is the way satoru gently nips at your bottom lip as if he's asking for attention.

you hum softly, opening your eyes and squinting at satoru, who can't help but smile against your lips. "you taste like strawberries," he mumbles, peppering butterfly kisses on the corner of your mouth in between words. "so sweet..."

you exhale faintly, not wanting to pull away from his peppermint-scented lips, and let your eyes flutter closed again. something about the way satoru's hands rest delicately on your waist makes you feel more comfortable than you've been in a while. maybe it's just the hoodie satoru had forced on you earlier when he saw you were shivering, or maybe it's the steady beat of satoru's heart that's almost therapeutic against your chest; whatever the case, you can't remember the last time you've been this at ease.

between his complicated streaming schedule and your busy life, moments like these are rarer than you'd like, but that only makes them all the more special.

five, ten, maybe even fifteen minutes pass by in silence, with the only sound being the soft murmurs shared between you and satoru. his lips fit over yours like two pieces of a puzzle, and the way you fit in between his arms almost feels too good to be true. but thanks to the slender hand that slips underneath the waistband of your shorts and the gentle tug at the bottom of your shirt, you know only too well that this is real; and hopefully, it always will be.

[gojoest]

A LUCKY ONE — satoru being sickeningly in love with you, gn! reader, you're naked in bed, calls you beauty

“well, well… look what we have here”, satoru’s morning voice wafts through the air as he lifts the blanket covering the two of you up, just a tiny bit but enough to take a peek — “a naked beauty in my bed”. the view of your bare legs (one of which is thrown over his) helps the idiotic smile on his lips crack wider. his lips look a little dry, you think. you haven’t kissed them since you fell asleep last night. you should fix that, you think, because yours start to feel a bit dry too.

you slowly charge towards his face with yours until your lips meet his for a short kiss. “you’re a lucky one — because i have a naked loser in mine”, you sigh as you pull away but—

—he pulls you back,

“oh, so?”, and effortlessly drags your body on top of his, wrapping his arms around you. both of his hands resting at the small of your back. “beauty and the loser sounds like a good match, no?”

“it’s not like i have much of a choice here. the beauty is stuck with the loser, you see”, you try to slip away but no use, he’s got you good — his arms won’t budge. “see what i’m talking about?”

“so you’d choose someone else to be stuck with if given the chance?”, he gasps, then purses his lips into a pout.

“as if you’d ever give me that chance”

“absolutely never”, he squeezes you tightly — physically emphasizing what he just said — before placing a hand at the back of your neck to pull your face close and hide it in the crook of his neck. “you’re mine”

“see, do i even have a choice?”, you try to hold back your chuckle at his adorable reaction.

“no. you’re stuck with this loser right here, like it or not”, he responds. still pouting, still holding you close.

“guess i have to learn to live with that”

“good. make sure to excel at it because it’s a matter of life and death — this loser can’t live without you”

“i’ll do my best then, or it’ll weigh on my conscious”

“that’s the only reason?”, another gasp leaves his mouth.

“hmm…”, you take your time before you continue, pretending to think very hard of another reason. “maybe the fact that he’s my loser has something to do with it, but i’m not very sure — either way, he’s a lucky one i’d say”

“yea”, his cheek squishes against your head, a pout still present on his lips. “he really is a lucky one, but you — you’re a very mean one, you know? just tell me you love me already”, he whines.

“or what?”

“or we’ll stay like this in bed all day”

“okay. i don’t mind”

“oh? neither do i, to be honest”, he snorts.

after all this is much better for him.

[droolypupboy]

tips for solo puppy play!!

pup play doesn’t have to be a partnered activity and solo play can be EXTREMELY fulfilling. you deserve to explore your headspace 🫶🫶 i have another post for more general tips for feeling more puppy, you can check that out here, a lot of things on there are ALSO applicable for solo pups.

warning, this is not for puppy regressors!! this is an nsfw post and probably not safe for u if you regress while online. stay safe, sfw puppies.

i would recommend checking out the above post if you want more details on the following: playing fetch alone, puppy snacks, & oral fixation!! all those things can help a LOT for solo pups but since i already went into so much detail previously, this post will have its own unique set of tips. i’m a puppy & i own a puppy sub so im super smart and you should listen 2 me!!!!

🐾 eating from a dog bowl can help a lot!! but even if that is inaccessible or not to your taste, you can just sit/lay on your tummy on the ground and eat small snacks from a plate. be careful of choking if you choose to lay!!

🐾 make little pup noises!! if you feel yourself going nonverbal and you’re in a place where you’re safe and comfy and have the time, lean into it. make little “hmph” noises when you’re confused, little squeaks when you’re excited, whine and pant, do all the things!! these can be used both sexually and nonsexually. it should come naturally if it’s gonna happen but there’s nothing wrong with doing it on purpose to get the ball rolling.

🐾 you can either invest in a large dog bed OR you can make a little nest of pillows and blankets.

🐾 being on all fours, sitting on the floor, & laying on your tummy are wonderful. inaccessible?? that’s okay!! these are enhancers, not necessities.

🐾 ALL you need for this is a bedroom and some random items. find some things (bad options are things like keys, lighters, phones, anything you use super frequently) to hide and go find again. the more space you have the better but even in smaller spaces, it can be VERY fun to lean into.

🐾 tilt your head in confusion, nudge and “paw” at things, nip and bite at things (safely, clean things, nothing that could hurt you or that you could choke on).

🐾 if you can afford it, invest in a knot style toy. it can help a lot in feeling like you’re small getting used by a bigger dog if that’s your thing. toys with suction cups are amazing too, the less you have to work, the better!!

🐾 do NOT be afraid to use pup centered asmr. it’s available on many many places but most accessibly, youtube & soundgasm through the site flaru. its not cringe, its not silly, it can be rlly good for the headspace. if you’re not sure if you’ll like it, give it a go!! why not??

🐾 invest in dog toys if you can!! make sure to clean them thoroughly before putting them in your mouth, stored r nasty, don’t use any that an actual dog has used only use fresh ones. if you can’t do that, chewelry, largely available on etsy and marketed for sensory issues (which yes, it does work for as well) is a really nice & discreet option.

🐾 go to town if you have a PRIVATE back yard!! run around!! have the zoomies!! chase toys (do not put them in your mouth if you’re playing outside)!! just have a good time.

🐾 press your nose against the window and watch the birds & squirrels & any other animals outside!!

🐾 overstimulation!! it’s rlly good, lose yourself, don’t stop until you can’t take it anymore. silly pups need to get fucked stupid.

🐾 slobber on toys (of the sfw AND nsfw variety), suck your fingers, get messy eating a popsicle or something similar. spit can be VERY puppy if you can handle the mess

that’s all for now, silly pups!! have fun, play safe, be kind to yourself, and remember that all of us puppies are different and unique. what makes one person feel puppy might not make the next person feel puppy. figure out what works for YOU. being puppy is an independent journey 🐕🦴🐾🎾

[gimmeurtmi]

stamina — seungmin

pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader

tags: established relationship, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, oral (m receiving), deep throating, use of “bubs”, “baby”, “puppy”, face fucking pretty much, cum play, lmk if i missed one!

inspo: my hopes and ambitions

notes: wrote this for day 8 of kinktober so it’s a little late but i loved this too much to leave it behind <3

{ wc: 2706 }

As soon as Seungmin came home you could tell he was frustrated. It was obvious from the way he’d rolled his eyes at seemingly nothing, clearly thinking about something that annoyed him. It was obvious from the way he was completely zoned out during the movie, and the way he simply shrugged when you asked him if he wanted popcorn. Ever since he got his braces off he never said no to popcorn.

Something was clearly bothering him. And considering he was still incredibly sweet to you and hugged your knees during the movie—you knew it had to be something that happened at work.

“Seung, did everything go okay during your lesson?”

“Fine,” he said, entirely too quickly.

You brought your hand to his shoulder, rubbing your thumb against his skin lightly. He exhaled sharply, knowing you caught him in his lie. He was thankful you weren’t pushing him to speak though, and kissed your temple to show his gratitude for you.

“It’s this comeback,” he sighed after a few moments, letting his head fall onto the back of the couch. “It’s kicking my ass.”

“You always say that,” you hum softly, “and it always turns out fine. In fact, you get better with every comeb–”

“--yeah, yeah,” he dismisses quickly, “I know.”

“Then what is it, baby?”

He sighed deeply, letting his eyes scan around the room as he let his thoughts gather in his brain before he could voice them. Then he licked his lips and sighed one more time.

“I’m frustrated,” he started, “hyung keeps saying I’m gonna need a lot of stamina for this song. It’s apparently a really complicated dance and it’s already hard vocally.”

“Then you just need to work on your stamina,” you offered softly.

“Yeah, I know that,” he rolled his eyes, “but I don’t know what the dance is gonna be like so all I can do is practise my vocals while running like some idiot.”

“If that’s what you need to do–”

“--I wish they’d just let me see the dance, but they’re being weirdly secretive about it and I can’t work like this.”

You squeezed his shoulder lightly, trying to distract him from the frustration he was so visibly still feeling. “I can come run with you? Practise the song and we can run around th–”

“--I can’t run anymore,” he shakes his head, “it’s stupid and it’s not even gonna help that much. The stamina you need for dancing isn’t the same as running.”

“Then try and figure out what you need to build your stamina and we can do that if you want,” you try, “or if it’s something you need to do alone. I’m here to help when you need it, Seung.”

“I know,” he turned to you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. “I just need to figure it out until hyung finally teaches us the choreo.”

You didn’t want to wait for Seungmin to figure it out by himself, you wanted to help him even if it was just a suggestion you could offer him, so instead you decided to confer with the only other vocalist you knew.

Jeongin was helpful, you think, as he offered things like weight lifting and dancing to a choreo Seungmin already knew. Seungmin declined both those suggestions however. He hated weights, and dancing to a different choreo was too confusing for him.

When you asked Chan for his suggestions, swearing him to secrecy because you knew Seungmin didn’t want him to worry–he suggested something quite different.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a proven fact. None of my vocal teachers have ever said this to me, which is probably why the other two haven’t thought about it–but sex is known to build your stamina.”

“Chan, if this is your weird way of saying he just needs to get laid–”

“--have fun!”

And then he ended the call.

You thought it over for a few days, thinking surely Chan was just trying to be a little shit. You knew he was protective of his band members and always wanted to help him, but you also knew he loved stressing you out–so surely that wasn’t sound advice.

Besides, you were almost certain Seungmin wouldn’t be able to focus on his vocals if he was fucking you. Sex was surely not the answer you were looking for.

Even so, the next time Seungmin came home from a vocal lesson with frustration deep on his brows, you decided you wanted his opinion on the matter, too. If it helped him you’d do anything and honestly, when Seungmin started working towards a new comeback he was usually too tired to do anything physical with you when he came home. You wanted to convince yourself you were definitely doing this to help him, and not because it was you that needed to get laid. You weren’t being selfish about this, really. Chan said it could help!

Seungmin shared your opinion that he surely wouldn’t be able to focus on singing at all if you were naked and moaning on top of him, so it would be completely pointless.

“What if I sucked you off, then?” You try, as neutrally as possible.

“How will that help?” He chuckled.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, throwing your hands in the air.

“If you want my dick in your mouth just ask, you don’t need an excuse,” he smirked.

“I promise I do genuinely think this could help,” you pouted at him, “and if it doesn’t you still get your dick wet so it’s a win-win, really.”

“Fine,” he sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes to fully sell it as he unbuckled his belt. “I guess you can suck my dick, then.”

You giggled at him, carefully lowering yourself onto the floor.

You watch as Seungmin pulls down his pants, letting them pool onto the floor right in front of your knees. You grab onto his thighs, slowly pulling them apart as you rack your nails across his smooth skin.

You kiss his knee slowly, planting another kiss higher and then higher before nuzzling your face by his stomach. You let your lips ghost near his hip bone, kissing it softly before slowly sucking on the taut skin.

He sucks in a breath, his big hands going to your neck and pushing you closer.

“I can’t hear any singing, Seung,” you say against his skin before making sure to suck a mark into his stomach.

He lets out a small moan, shutting his eyes tightly before he licks his lips.

“Okay, okay,” he lets out, taking in a deep breath, “this might actually work.”

You chuckle to yourself before splaying your hands across his thighs, kneading at the muscles as your lips trail from one hip bone to the other.

Seungmin starts singing, his voice even and strong.

It almost bothers you, how controlled his voice is, and so you run your hand from his inner thigh to his crotch. He isn’t fully hard yet, and you’re sure he’s trying to bring all his focus on the right notes and words.

You’re gonna have to help him, then.

You kiss along his tip, soft and slow. Open mouthed kisses, trailing from the head all the way to the base while you use your other hand to softly run your nails across his inner thigh.

You can feel his cock growing harder, warmer against your lips.

His voice is still too even for your liking.

You spit in your hand, licking the wetness around to make sure it’s fully wet–and it’s then you notice the singing has stopped. You look up questioningly.

“What is it?”

“That was so fucking hot,” he lets out. His eyes are clouded, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth.

“Don’t stop singing,” you order him instead, trying your best to ignore the way your walls flutter at his intense stare.

“Yes, ma���am,” he chuckles, nodding slowly before he tries to remember what part of the song he got to. He can’t really recall, having been too turned on by your actions so he simply starts again from the beginning.

You spit in your hand one more time, Seungmin shutting his eyes tightly at the sight, before you start stroking his cock. You keep going until he’s fully hard, when he starts singing what you think is the chorus–and then you take him in your mouth.

You push him inside your throat until you start choking slightly and then you hollow out your cheeks. You start bobbing your head right away, up and down as fast as you can take it without gagging.

The singing stops again.

You look up at him, blinking a few tears away, waiting for him to keep singing.

He doesn’t.

Instead he brings his thumb to the corner of your eye, wiping the wetness away and moaning.

“Your mouth is so warm,” he sighs, as if in a dream. “You take my cock so good, bubs.”

You pull away. Seungmin brings a hand to the back of your head, trying to push you back down but you push his wrist away.

“That’s not the deal, puppy,” you remind him, “I stop when you stop.”

“I can’t focus on the song when you gag like that,” he whines.

You push up on your knees to kiss him softly on the lips. “Try.”

He groans in response, lulling his head from one side to the other before he opens his eyes with a new found determination in them.

“Alright,” he says, “let’s go.”

Seungmin is known for his dutifulness, is known for his strong mind and level-headedness. You can’t ignore just how wet it makes you to know you have the power to make him lose his focus, but you can’t think about that too much. If you do, you won’t care about helping him anymore and you’d start begging him to fuck you.

No, you can’t do that. You both need to focus on his stamina right now.

You wait for Seungmin to sing again, starting from the very beginning of the song one more time, before you let his dick slide all the way down your throat again.

You make sure to breathe through your nose, swallowing around him every few seconds.

Once you start moving slowly, making sure to tuck your teeth behind your lips as much as you can, you see his stomach clenching tightly as he keeps singing. He’s still hitting all the notes, you think, but he takes deeper breaths between each line.

He doesn’t sound as controlled anymore.

The knowledge of that spurs you on, and you start moving your tongue up and down against the underside of his cock. You can trace the vein there with your tongue, can feel it pulsing heavily inside your mouth.

You move your head up and down, as fast as you can possibly go, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat repeatedly.

Seungmin’s panting above you, his fingers buried in your hair as he pushes you further down his cock. He’s still singing, but only barely, and at this point you aren’t too sure if you care anymore.

You feel spit sliding down the corner of your mouth and you try to suck it all back in, but it’s too late. It’s messy, dribbling all the way down your chin and onto Seungmin’s smooth thigh. You don’t care about the mess, either.

You barely care about the aching wetness between your legs, too busy with the salty taste hitting the back of your throat in small intervals with each time Seungmin messes up and moans mid-note.

You hear him repeating the same line three times, trying to get the notes just right but failing as you gag around his tip after a particularly deep thrust from his part.

You aren’t sure when he started fucking into your mouth but you let him, relaxing your jaw as much as you can and breathing deeply every time his cock hits your throat like that.

He brings his other hand, the one that isn’t pushing and pulling your hair, around your throat.

He doesn’t apply any pressure, but you know he’s trying to feel just how deep he is inside you–and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You aren’t sure when he started moving and how you didn’t notice, but he buries his hand in your underwear, moaning at your wetness.

“Look how wet you get when I fuck your mouth,” he moans deeply, “bet you actually did make this up just so you could suck my dick.”

You can’t answer him, but you try your best to nod as he pushes his cock in and out of your mouth. It isn’t even true, you did actually want to help, but when Seungmin uses that tone with you you’d agree with anything he says.

“My little baby loves sucking cock so much,” he chuckles at you, sliding two fingers inside you with ease, “gonna get me addicted to your mouth like this.”

You moan, your throat closing in around his dick as you feel the vibrations from your vocal cords around Seungmin’s hand. He grabs your chin, pulling it down further as he pulls your bottom lip down.

“Gonna cum down your throat, yeah?” He asks, just to make sure you can take it–and your wide eyes tell him there’s nothing more you want in that moment.

He slumps back into the couch, both hands on each of your cheeks to keep you in place as he starts fully fucking into your mouth–shameless as he lets his moans spill out into the air.

You aren’t sure what was prettier, this or his singing, but you want to hear either and both for the rest of your life.

You grab onto his knees for some sort of support as his thrusts move quickly and ungracefully–until he’s grabbing onto your hair and spilling inside your mouth.

You welcome the salty taste happily, letting your tongue touch the roof of your mouth as the bitterness takes over your senses. Before you can swallow, Seungmin grabs your chin and opens your mouth.

“Let me see, bubs,” he pants, chest heaving in the aftermath of his orgasm, “show me how dirty I made you.”

You stick your tongue out, trying your best to keep his cum on it and not let it spill, but Seungmin clearly has other plans.

He presses his finger into your tongue, watching as the thick whiteness coating your tongue slips down your lips and onto your chest.

“So fucking dirty,” he mumbles, gathering the cum that hasn’t spilled and pushing it back into your mouth.

As if in a trance, he pushes it in deeper, gathering everything with his fingers before nodding at you slightly–silently telling you to swallow it now. When you stick your tongue back out there’s nothing but spit around your mouth, and Seungmin pushes your chin down to let it spill onto your shirt, too.

“Did it help?” You ask after a few moments, the spaced out look in Seungmin’s eyes still very much present. You can’t ignore just how rough your voice sounds, and it sends another wave of arousal into your pussy.

“Did what help?” He blinks at you.

“The stamina,” your voice is almost gone, “did fucking my face help your stamina?”

Seungmin chuckles, leaning back into the couch and pulling you with him. You ignore the slight ache in your knees–you’re gonna have to treat some rug burns later–and joining him on the couch as he pulls you into his arms.

“I think so,” he sighs, wiping your chin with the back of his hand, “but now I know for a fact every time I sing that song I’m gonna want to fuck your face again.”

You suppress the moan building up in your chest. “Maybe this time you should take me on tour, then.”

“So I can fuck your face every night?” He challenges, eyebrows high on his face.

You nod quickly.

“You got a fucking deal, bubs,” he laughs, leaning his head back on the pillows and letting out the most content sigh you’ve heard from him all week.

[tasteracha]

a/n: hyunjin’s piercing got me. this is not proofread this is a mess of my incoherent thoughts. can be read as idol hyune or non idol! gn!reader. smut - minors dni!

he’s a little too nonchalant when he walks through the door, the hi, love he throws at you a little too casual.

he did something. and he’s afraid to tell you.

you’ve known him too long, been with him too intimately, for him to be able to hide things from you. you can read him better than a violinist reads sheet music.

“come here,” you call out to him, eyes trained on him as he moves towards you, shaking his hair into his eyes in the process.

strange. he didn’t like his hair in his eyes, if anything he would more likely push it out with expert fingers.

he sits on your right side, which is definitely not the seat he prefers on the couch. he chooses the seat by the armrest so he could lean against it, most of the times with you draped halfways over him and halfways over the rest of the couch.

the suspicion is stacking up like perfectly placed dominos, and before he could protest you’re taking his chin in your hand and turning him towards you, pushing his hair back with the fingers of your other hand.

and there it is. a shiny set of metal, embedded into the skin above his eyebrow. an eyebrow piercing.

“what the hell is that,” you ask him, voice just tinged with hysteria as you take in the new piercing.

“do you not like it?” he asks, mistaking your shock as displeasure. the way his face falls a bit makes your heart ache.

“baby no, i love it,” you scooby closer to him, making his own space yours. “i just can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

“i wanted it to be a surprise?” he says, bashfulness lacing into his words. “you really like it?”

“shut up,” you give into the urge to straddle his lap, swinging one leg over him so you could look at him fully. “you’re so hot, oh my god.”

“i’m not god, i’m your boyfriend,” he teases, a smile quirking onto his face, and there he is. any shyness he had bleeds away into preening under your attention.

instead of telling him to shut up, which in your experience never works, you crash your lips against his with a fervor you almost didn’t expect from yourself. you run your hands down his chest as he responds in kind, his hands bracing on your waist to keep you steady against him.

you release him, lips popping against the suction, and when you lean back he looks wrecked. already. his lips are reddened and wet, eyes blown wide with pleasure, evidence of his lust pressing against your crotch.

you can’t help but reach up to cup his face, your thumb brushing past the reddened skin around his piercing and he hisses.

“sorry,” you mutter, moving your hand away, but he stops you with a burning hand on your wrist.

“like it,” he doesn’t meet your eyes, but the tips of his ears burn red. oh. memories of him moaning at the feeling of your teeth sinking into his neck, him throwing his head back in pleasure at the feeling of your nails raking down his back, him coming to the sharp, twisted movements of your hand in his cock flood your head; this shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you. he’s always been a little bit of a slut for pain.

you massage your thumb across the skin there for a bit, soothing him with kisses to his jaw and his neck and his lips until he was almost shaking.

“let me suck you off?” you toy with the wisps of hair at the nape of his neck and he shivers under you.

“you literally never have to ask,” he sighs as you slither off his lap onto the floor, kneeling between his legs. he’s painfully hard when you take him out of his pants, his cock red and glistening and so wet that the first glide of your lips against him is so easy.

it doesn’t take long to get him close, expert motions of your hands and your lips and your tongue bringing him to the edge in record time. you almost feel bad not drawing this out, but this isn’t for him. it’s for you.

you graze your teeth along his shaft and he breaks, thick ropes of cum coating your tongue and lacing around your mouth. you make a show of licking him clean, pushing his release into your mouth and swallowing it obscenely. he groans and throws his head back when you swipe little kitten licks against the head of his cock, making sure every bit was taken care of.

“maybe you should get this pierced next, hmm?” you look at the head of his cock pointedly, letting out a laugh at his horrified expression.