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liveontelevision · 5 months

Note

If I don't get more to that babysitter story soon I might just go into full withdrawals.

Well shit here you go bbg

Exams are mostly over which means I can suffer more! :)

This is definitely gonna be a multi-part series at this point, and I am working on part 3 already so - ya

Disclaimer: This is my personal interpretation of the characters from Hazbin Hotel. I respect the canon storyline and characters, but this fic will stray from it a decent amount.

Enjoy this very angsty mildly smutty

(This series is complete! All parts are listed on my master list and are linked below!)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

Suffer Pt. 2 | Lucifer x Reader

Things didn't exactly get easier for you after your stupid dalliance with Lucifer. Obviously, you lost your job. But you were a nanny, you lived in the manor. And now you have to find new housing somewhere else in Hell. You haven't been out on the streets in years, and protection was essentially guaranteed as a royal staff member, so it was definitely.. a change of pace. Getting some tips from your previous coworkers who lived outside the manor, you did your best to weave through the murderous streets to find some sort of safety.

“Hello? Anyone home?” The apartment you entered was located in a ratty-looking motel that sat in the middle of a more secluded area in Pentagram City. No matter how dirty, it did seem a little safer considering the distance between other sinners. Scanning the apartment, considering no one answered to your previous call, you hesitantly stepped through the door. An imp you used to work with at the hotel advised you to take some sort of protection out there. He handed you an incredibly sleek pistol. It was tiny, even compared to the size of your smaller hands. It was easy to slip in and out of the little holster on your outer thigh. Scoffing at the idea of needing to shoot anyone, you accepted it humbly. Just to be safe.

Looking out a busted window, surrounded by broken glass, you saw the demon who must've lived here. A twisted corpse, covered in splatters of blood and dirt. A long angelic spear, still standing, sits firmly in the center of their chest, a collection of other stab wounds littered across the rest of the body. Fuck. You knew about exterminations, everyone did. It was always a solemn day back at the manor, but you’ve never witnessed its actual afflictions. You stumbled backward, tripping over some random debris and falling to the floor, your heart pounding heavily in your chest. The fear you felt, the sharp pain in your palms where the glass shards had pierced you, it was all too much. Struggling to your knees, you crawl to the wall, leaning back against it with a thud. A sudden paranoia that someone may hear any noise you made, kept your breathing shallow. You pulled your knees to your chest, sitting in the dark room entirely alone. You wished you weren't alone. You wished he was here.

The last extermination day was about three months ago, so you knew the place hadn't been touched in at least that long. And as gruesome as it may sound, you now had a place to stay in the meantime. But, what are you supposed to do now? You were sure there weren't any families in Hell looking for a babysitter.. You could do little things, like mending clothes, cooking, and cleaning, but.. None of those skills were strong enough to get you into anything remotely as comfortable as being a royal nanny. Cell Phones were a thing at this time, but you never had a reason to have one before, so that’d be something you have to work for. You were essentially starting from scratch, as if you had just arrived in Hell.

You had to take to the streets. Walking nervously, with one hand on your little emergency weapon, you peeked into stores to see who might be hiring. Surprisingly, a quaint little bakery was just around the corner. Stepping inside, the little bell notifies the black-eyed woman standing at the counter. After a quick conversation, and browsing some of the baked goods, it finally clicked that you had walked straight into cannibal town without realizing. But.. It was surprisingly nice. The woman said she did need help in the kitchen, and while the image of cleaning blood and bones off baking pans made you shiver, it could've been worse.

With some hard work and absolute dumb luck, you managed to become a customer favorite. There were some close calls, gentlemen would always get a whiff of your scent before kissing your hand as a greeting, and sometimes you would even feel their teeth graze across your knuckles. The owner was such a lovely woman, despite also being a cannibal, she would swat at any unwanted advances and scold anyone who dared to taste her “best worker”. After a couple months, you were able to pretty up your inherited apartment, and it finally felt like somewhere you could call home.

And a few months after that, you would actually consider yourself in a good place. Bringing some homey decor into your new place, you had the urge to bring a few friends by. The only issue was, you didn't have friends. You were close to the owner, but she was.. Old fashioned. And customers were just that; customers. You were getting antsy though. You rummaged through the small duffle you took with you from the Morningstar residence and found a mildly appealing outfit. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you let out a dissatisfied hum. With one fell swoop, you took the bottom of your skirt and tore it fully around your legs. The dress that normally flowed sweetly to your calves, now flounced to your thighs. With one more spin, where you saw a little too much under your skirt, you decided that this would definitely get you some friends.

Oh, and how right you were. You made many “friends”. You played every card in the book, using dozens of excuses to bring home any demon who showed interest. You were careful about it, you could handle yourself, after all. You were finally getting the attention you deserved. But.. it wasn't from him. Each time you’d walk to work you’d see a flier or a billboard with the king of Hell’s grinning face on it. It churned your stomach each time.

At this point, after some soul-searching, you decided on one thing. This was all Lucifer’s fault. How dare he smile at you the way he did. How could he constantly keep you company, making you wonder why you were even hired as a nanny? How could he so easily touch you without getting as nervous as you did? How could he kiss you the way he did, then call it a mistake? He did nothing to defend you. But these demons in your bed each night? They would do anything for just a taste of you and had no problem admitting that.

After finally appeasing your physical needs, you stopped pursuing demons. It’s been a few years since you've settled in, and now you look back at some of your hookups with a cringe. That was progress, right? Admitting it was just a phase?

Your traveling hands told you otherwise. At night, especially after a long shift where your mind was too tired to think straight, your hands would trail down the center of your stomach. You could never explain what got you in this state, but somewhere in the back of your mind, you had to know. Taking no time, with your exhaustion quick to take over, you rubbed small circles across your still-clothed cunt. You held your blanket to your mouth to muffle any noises. You picked up the speed.

“Nng.. L-Lucifer..” You moaned out softly, your blanket slipping out of your clenched fist. A swell of pleasure caused you to arch your back into your hand, still playing with your overstimulated cunt. After letting yourself calm down, you simply sit with tired eyes, looking at the ceiling with a visible glare. Well, shit.

—

“U-Uh.. Lillith, my love, don’t you think we should -” A quick glare back at the nervous king caused him to shut his mouth.

“Get yourself cleaned up, darling. Then, we’ll figure everything out.” She sounded far too calm for his liking, but once he turned to a mirror in a nearby vanity, he choked on any response he might have. He was covered in your lipstick. Fuck, he loved being covered in your lipstick. Quickly shaking the thought out of his head, he went off to clean up his face. Splashing water onto his face and neck, he let out a heavy sigh, refusing to look into his reflection. Even he’s ashamed to look into his eyes after what he’s done.

After folding his coat and draping it over a nearby chair, he carefully approached Lillith, who had sat down gracefully at the edge of their shared bed. She was holding up some papers with a purple haze, and with a flick of her wrist, she dropped certain ones into a nearby portal. Lucifer gathered the courage to sit next to his wife. He still kept a good distance, twisting his ring around his finger as a nervous fidget.

“What do you think of this one, dear?” Leaning in close to him, Lillith presents a piece of paper that she had just been looking at. A sudden chill ran down his spine, scanning the sheet. A picture of a homely demon, looking absolutely ancient, was clipped to piles of papers with references, experiences, and skills. Overall, if this were a normal situation, she would be a perfect fit to take care of Charlie. But so soon? He didn't want to bring that up. Hey! Can’t you keep the demon, who you just caught me sucking on, for a little while longer? That’s ridiculous.

“W-Well, sure, I’m sure Charlie would love her.. Great choice.. Love.” He was always quick to tell her or give her whatever would make her happy. He owed her that after all. After dragging her to the pits of Hell that he created.

“Hm! Well, that’s settled. I suggest you head to the other room for the night, you must understand how I’m feeling after what I saw.” She sounds absolutely heartless. Not in a way that comes off as cruel, just in the way she barely seems affected by something that weighs on his mind so heavily. Either way, he nodded and left their bedroom.

No servants came to help him get ready for bed, as they usually do. Which isn't an issue, he wasn't completely incompetent. But it did leave him alone for the first time in centuries. Really, when was the last time he had been alone in a room for longer than a few minutes? He tried to not get caught up in the thought, shifting under the covers of the bed. It felt new. It felt unused.

Maybe it was the discomfort of sleeping in a bed that hadn't been touched for who knows how long, but Lucifer spent most of the night tossing and turning. How could he sleep with his mind so full of regret? But then, what was he regretting exactly? Was it the cheating on the one woman who's been by him through everything? Or was he regretting not saying something to you sooner? Not shutting the door when he had the chance? Regretting letting you go without a fight?

At some point in the night, he shot up, a sweating mess. He was still exhausted, even with the notion that he had just woken up from some night terror. Finally catching his breath, he slumps back down, shifting into some other sleeping position. With that one motion, he felt the stiffening problem in his shorts. Fuck. It wasn't there the whole night, but he knew exactly why it was here now. He laid on his back, spreading his knees a bit to gain better access to his aching groin. With the same goal of getting it over with, so he could go back to sleep, he palmed at his shorts before releasing his throbbing cock. Even if he convinced himself that this was just to help him get back to sleep, he couldn't prevent picturing you as he started to toy with himself

If you could see him in this state, you'd go mad. The image of him letting out soft whimpers to no one and pumping his own shaft, wishing his hand was your own.

With a speedy resolve, Lucifer pulls away his hand. Already disgusted with himself for essentially sending you to the streets to fend for yourself, he cleaned himself up before continuing to lay in the unfamiliar bed. The rest of the night was spent staring at the ceiling. It was all so.. Empty. He was so used to hearing the soft breathing of someone sleeping beside him, the comfort of being able to just turn his head and know he wasn't alone. He didn’t exactly miss the smell, but he could recognize the difference. The fragrance of whatever Lillith would use on her hair or skin, right before she would sleep, was gone. There was still a lingering scent, though. He couldn't quite place his finger on it. A sudden flash of your flushed appearance, ringing with an anticipation he hadn't seen in years, formed in his mind. He could have covered you in love bites and bruises right that instant - Oh. That must be it; He was smelling you. His senses were overwhelmed. By you.

“Sire! Breakfast!” A hasty knock at the bedroom door sent him sitting up quickly. He was still groggy since it didn't feel like he fell asleep at all. A random servant let themselves in, a tray of assorted breakfast pickings sitting heavily in their hands as they glided quickly to place it over his lap. He didn't normally have breakfast in bed. A surprise usually viewed as a treat, felt morbid to him. He usually had breakfast with..

With a heavy sigh, he dismisses the imp and pushes the tray off his lap. Who could have an appetite after everything that went on the night before?

As the days started to pass, Lillith eventually started acting like nothing had changed. Your replacement was quick to start working. Lucifer got along with her fine and Charlie seemed to like her plenty. Could this really be swept under the rug? Was a little kiss not worth a serious discussion after all these years? Apparently so. Neither of the royals brought it up to each other after that. They were actually fighting less than before - that is - Lucifer didn't feel it fair to try and rebuttal any of her arguments. And.. that’s the end of it. Just a fling that occurred on a restless night. Just a sinner making another sinful mistake, and the king of Hell creating more problems. There wasn't any more to it.

—

Extermination Day was fast approaching. This wasn't your first, but it was definitely jarring compared to how you handled it at the Morningstar Manor. You boarded up your windows, tore apart curtains, and generally made your hand-me-down apartment seem abandoned. No point in looking for sinners in an empty building, right? You were surprisingly calm, considering the circumstances, you brought a damned book to read while hiding in the safest area of your home. You didn't think much of it, Not until the screams began.

The battle cries became increasingly louder. The exorcists were quick to get to work, spreading their attacks through the most heavily populated areas first. The shouting and sobbing of other demons suddenly registered in your mind. You're terrified. It's easy for sinners to take their position for granted during their first year. You died on Earth, but here you are in Hell. You die in Hell, you regenerate, so you can continue your eternal punishment. But this extermination? It finally clicked in your mind that this could be it. This could be your end and you have no idea what would happen to you afterwards. Was there anything beyond Hell? Your spiraling thoughts were brought to a halt when some of the expertly nailed boards on your windows went flying across the room. You were safely tucked away in a closet, it wasn't closed, just ajar. You hoped that little detail would keep it clear that no demon would be stupid enough to hide in an open closet. You heard rustling, some things breaking, then breathing. She was so close to the closet, that you could hear her breathing. As she reached for the doorknob and you prepared for the worst, you could hear a command coming from outside. The exorcist left through your window in one fell swoop. You had no idea if that was the end of the extermination or if you had only managed to avoid one angel.

Gripping your knees to your chest, only prolonging your struggling breathing, you hoped for one thing. Your mind went spinning, as it does on occasion; After rough days or when certain guests weren't treating you very well, you would wish for help. In your fantasies, a knight in shining armor would come in, kick down the door, and save the day. He would whisk you off your feet and you'd have your happy ending. But today, extermination day, you wanted nothing more than for Lucifer to hold you. Not to save you, defend you from dangers, or play the hero, but to embrace you. Keep you close to his chest and tell you everything was going to be okay, and that you'll look back on this later and laugh. That you'll always be safe as long as you're with him.

Why did you have to ruin it? Things were so good before. You were safe, technically wealthy, and had a friend. A real friend who would help pick up your work if you ever felt the slightest overwhelmed, someone who would support and praise you, someone who would make you laugh. And you were too horned up to consider you could lose all of it.

A sharp pain running down your back forces you awake. Taking the time to recognize your surroundings, you recall crying yourself to sleep in the cramped safe haven you made for yourself. At least it worked. You're still here. Despite everything, you're still here. Taking your time, you stretched your stiff body and examined the damage to your home. It was in absolute shambles. The sight of the busted window made your blood run cold, just imagining an exorcist exploring your personal space. You took a mental note of everything you still had and carefully sat at the edge of your bed, your sheets littered with shards of window glass. This has to stop. You need some kind of respite again, you can't survive like this anymore.

—

You were embarrassed. It felt so strange going somewhere and admitting you need help, that was always a struggle for you. But to crawl to the establishment ran by Charlie? The toddler you raised? It would be near impossible to admit defeat to her. But you were shunned by the rest of the royal family, and quickly discovered you can't make it just living alone as a demon. There's only one other option. Heaven. You supposed it was time to give Redemption a shot. What else do you have to lose?

You hesitate to knock on the door once you're greeted with the signs hanging all over the front of the building. Homemade flyers and banners decorate the walls, saying things like Sinners Welcome!, Escape Redemption!, Ascend to the Heavens!, but the most important one was Free Housing! You knock so lightly on the door, that you have to do it again. It swung open -

You aren't exactly shocked by her appearance, she's been displayed on the news and you've seen her commercials a few times, but you still felt a stabbing pain in your chest. It was from a combination of nerves and.. was that pride? To see this little girl, you helped raise for a moment, as a grown woman who was pursuing her dreams?

She immediately bombarded you with questions and greetings. She still had that energy, didn't she?

"This is the lobby! And over here is the bar, if you drink, and here is -” You started to tune out her voice, still smiling and nodding when she looked at you. Taking in your surroundings, you would at least smile at the other demons you'd make eye contact with. You recognized Angel Dust, obviously a celebrity in Hell, but the rest were strangers to you. Emphasis on strange.

Finally appearing from the shadows, you did actually recognize the so-called radio demon. He would frequently come into your bakery with the overlord of Cannibal Town, Rosie. You'd serve them, which was not normally a service you'd provide, but your boss insisted. He seemed nice enough from those interactions, you saw no reason to fear him. Yet. He was kind enough to stop you and Charlie to chat.

"Ah, a familiar face!" He greeted you by taking up your hand and placing a light kiss on your knuckles, immediately sending shivers down your spine. "Pleasure to see you, again, dear." He spoke into your hand. "Quit the pleasure~" Your hand still held to his lips, he looked up to meet your eyes. With a nervous chuckle and a nod, you pull your hand away, almost pushing Charlie to move on. You didn't want him to see your flustered face.

"So.. How's your dad been?" You idiot. Why would you ask that? You didn't want to know the answer.

"Oh! Um.. That's a weird question - We don't talk much, he's doing important things you know, considering he's the king and all, but uh..good! Pretty sure he's.. good..." Her nervous reactions were just like her father's, but you didn't have time to dwell on that. You knew Lillith had disappeared, everyone did. You wondered what happened. You wondered what it would be like if you were still in the manor with them. If Lucifer would treat you differently with Lillith gone.. Stop.

“Well, I used to work at the manor, actually.. erm.. Do you recognize me..? By any chance?" Charlie's face gleamed with excitement as she took your hands into hers. You were hopeful for a second.

"That is so cool! I haven't been home in ages.. so I'm not sure I remember you but - wow, we have so much to talk about!" She let out an excited squeal that left you smiling nervously. She didn't recognize you. That was fair, you only knew her when she was young, but you thought.. maybe...

Aging in Hell worked differently. While Charlie had truly grown, you've looked the same for multiple decades. You almost hoped that would trigger something in her mind.. thinking about it, you'd love to reconnect with her. But you can't. You can't look at her without seeing him. Maybe her not recognizing you is the best for now.

You settled into the hotel pretty quickly, and considering your housekeeping skills, the rest of the staff and residents seemed to warm up to you, asking for help with little things like mending or baking. You also helped Charlie with anything you could. She had a lot of questions about what her childhood home was like before she came along, and you had to do your best to dance around the important details.

As you were fixing up a skirt for Angel, one that was torn straight in half, your head was suddenly with radio static. A shadowy figure appeared in front of you. With Alastor looking down at you, he was much more intimidating. Doesn't stop the fact that he made you blush like crazy.

"Alastor. What's up?" You turned your head back down to continue your sewing, trying to keep a cool facade, then felt the seat next to you dip slightly.

"A little birdy told me you have an.. interesting past. Sounds like you have quite the history with the royal family, correct?" You hesitantly nod.

"I'd love to hear some stories if you have anything.. juicy." He definitely learned that word from Rosie. You chuckled at the sound of such a modern word warped with static. You gave him the same details you would tell Charlie, vague and definitely not juicy.

As you spoke and sewed at the same time, you ended up jabbing your finger with the needle. With a disappointed groan, you squeezed your finger, letting the blood drop grow. A quick reaction, Alastor lightly took a grasp of your wrist and brought your finger to his lips. With just a single swipe of his tongue, he wiped the blood clean. You tried your best to act disgusted, he was a cannibal after all, but your face was still heating up.

“O-Ookay.. thank you, I suppose..? Anyway..” You took a moment to shake any inappropriate thoughts from your head before returning to your stories. Alastor simply sat and nodded, occasionally letting out a little chortle at something you tried to joke about. "It was definitely a cushy job, I mean, you get free housing as a nanny, protection, food and - "

"A nanny, hmm?" Fuck. You quickly dropped what you were doing to face him. "Alastor, please don't say anything to Charlie. She doesn't even remember me since I had to leave when she was young, and I.. I want to keep it that way, okay? Keep this between us? Please?" You were begging. You had a great relationship with Charlie right now, there was no point bringing up the past. Or the mistakes you've made. You didn't see his smile grow, but it definitely did.

"Not a problem, my dear! I'm not one to blab.. since you asked so nicely." He looked at his clawed fingers as if they were neatly painted nails. You let out a sigh of relief, shakily reaching for your little sewing project in your lap to proceed where you left off.

"Thanks. I owe you one." You had no idea what you did, but apparently, that was enough for him. Enough to signal a deal. You officially owed Alastor a favor, and you had no idea what that could entail.

—

“Okay, everyone! My dad agreed to come and see what I'm - what we - are doing here! This could really help the hotel, so we are going to pretty it up and make it as welcoming as we can!” Charlie stood on the previously used trust-fall stage as she spoke.

“We’ve got one hour, people! Let’s get going!” The command from Vaggie, only made you sweat more. You stood in the small crowd of recently made friends, suddenly shrinking where you stood. You had no idea what Lucifer had been up to these past years. He definitely wasn't making any public appearances and Charlie rarely talked about him, so you just assumed he wasn't interested in her little project. It was shocking to you at first, that the gentle father you used to know had barely even spoken to her in almost a decade.

But that's beside the point. He was coming to the hotel. Stepping off the stage as the crowd dispersed, Charlie came directly to you. She held onto both your hands, before shining a giddy smile your way.

“Isn’t it exciting? Maybe he’ll recognize you! It’ll be like a little reunion!” You simply smiled and nodded, before quickly stepping away. Charlie started directing people, nicely, to start cleaning things up and creating banners and other decorations. A familiar static ran through your core as you hit the top of the stairs, ready to hide wherever you could.

You groaned, “Alastor, I just need to get out of here, please don’t bug me right now.” He was quick to block your path, placing a hand on his chest as if he were wounded.

“How cruel of you, I simply want to chat! I’m just wondering how you’re doing, dear.” His voice was sweet, but it still put you on edge. You waved him off and kept walking.

“Don’t give me that shit, I know you don't really care.” You rolled your eyes as he continued to walk with you, occasionally brushing his side against yours with his strides. Alastor was becoming close to you over these past few months, even getting a little touchy at times. You definitely didn't mind it. You considered making some kind of move, but the idea of that failing made you cringe.

“Goodness, how rude you are today! Aren’t you excited to see your old employer? Or.. are you nervous?” He knew what he was doing. You did your best to hide your anxious reaction, but he saw right through it.

“M-Maybe a little nervous. There, are you happy now? I don’t want to see him, I’m not ready - “ You muffled a frustrated groan into your hands, stopping in place

“Not a problem, my dear! Why don’t you stick with me today? I would hate to see you in such a state of despair - ” Liar. “ - just think about it.” You nod your head, but you were pretty sure you wouldn't be leaving your room for the rest of the day.

“Good girl.” With a quick pat on your head and a flicker of the lights, Alastor disappeared from sight. Your whole body shivered as you stepped into your room.

—

You recognized his voice immediately, even from your room. it didn't help that he was practically shouting. You were sitting in your bed, your back against the headboard and your knees pulled tightly to your chest. You would grab a book, or maybe the phone you finally managed to buy, but you didn't. You sat with tears flowing down your cheeks. You weren’t sad, exactly, but your body had no idea how to process your emotions right now.

Luckily, a loud crash snapped you out of your frozen state, forcing you to carefully leave your room. You couldn't hear his voice anymore, just a loud ruckus, people screaming and gunshots. You assumed someone had broken down the wall, again, probably looking for another fight. That probably means he left, right? Taking your time, you carefully peek your head around the stairwell, letting out a shaky sigh of relief.

No sign of Lucifer. Starting to descend the stairs, a giant portal opens mere feet away from you. Charlie and Lucifer return, his gigantic wings fluttering close as they embrace. You only realized the severity of the situation after appreciating his wings that you’ve never really seen this close before. They were beautiful - Focus.

As they discussed finally setting up Charlie’s meeting, she finally caught a glance of you just beginning to climb the stairs.

“Oh, Dad! I almost forgot! There was so much going on, I didn't get to show you our other guest!” She speedily approached you as she spoke, grabbing your hand and pulling you back down the stairs.

“She said she used to work at home! Isn't that cool?” Placing both her hands on your shoulders, you were essentially held captive.

“Oh! OH! Ahh.. hm! That is - That is definitely.. Interesting! Fun little fact there, isn't it?” His laughter became increasingly nervous and his cheeks became redder, as he tugged at the collar of his shirt to let the cool air of the room hit his suddenly heated skin.

“B-Been awhile, huh?? Long time no see! What are you up to? Today? These.. days..?” Charlie’s excitement only grew, shaking you a bit by your shoulders.

“You remember each other? That’s awesome! Maybe you two can catch up sometime! Were you close? She talks about how much she loved working there all the time!” Charlie’s words did little to fill the gaps. He had no idea why you were here, what you had told her - his eyes met yours finally, begging for the answer. What did you tell her?

Charlie’s one-sided conversation became a ringing in your ears, as she finally released you. You were only brought back by a hand placed delicately on the small of your back. In the back of your mind, you hoped it was Lucifer’s. That made you wince. Finally looking at its source you met Alastor’s eyes. He did say he would keep you company if you decided to come to the lobby. A sudden question popped into your head. Did Lucifer ever apologize? With Alastor's support, a surge of confidence gave you the strength to respond.

“We weren't that close, Charlie. I mean, we could catch up. If he wants to that is.” You leaned into Alastor's touch as you spoke, another decision you'll question later. In that moment, you wanted to treat him like shit. You wanted him to feel the way you did when you were sent away without a fight.

He seemed to shrink in place, his eye twitching when he let his gaze roam from your body up to Alastor’s, which was connected so sweetly by a gentle hold.

“Yeeaah! MAybe - “ His voice cracked, “ Welp! If you’re here - I know where to find you, I’ll uh.. Keep in touch..?” He did his best to send charlie a nervous smile, who was giving an enthusiastic thumbs up to him from behind you.

“Weren't you just leaving, Your Highness?” Alastor’s voice went crackly as he spoke, his hand snaking completely around your waist. He gave a nervous goodbye, before vanishing in a red smoke. Something strange happened just then. Before he left - he looked scared. But you still felt good doing what you did.

You blinked your eyes as if you had just been broken out of a trance. Looking around the silent room, you met Alastor’s eyes again, before quickly pulling yourself away from his grasp.

“I-I guess you did what you promised.. so.. Thank you?” letting out an awkward chuckle, you made your way back up the stairs. What came over you? Did you really want him to suffer? You had a chance to try and repair things, to ask why he did what he did. There's no way he'd try to reach out now. Right?

—

Hope y'all are liking the direction this is going, i know its getting a lil intense

I'm getting your requests btw! I'm loving the prompts I'm seeing, so I'll work on them as soon as I can! :)

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atzfilm · 11 months

Text

king’s play (m);

🎨 wc/pairing; professor!hj/f.professor reader (4,1k)

🎨 genre/content; college!au, fluff, smut: rushed, explicit & unprotected smut

🎨 summary; shadowing your colleague as a new professor, you come to realize the reason why his classes are at full capacity within five minutes of registration

🎨 note; this is self-indulgent and i have no remorse you all are coming down with me.

You balance three coffees in one hand as you rush up the steps, desperately trying to be on time once in your life. Students say hi to you as you run past, a quick smile as you greet them back. You have exactly one minute until your dean scolds you for being late, again, and you were sure this was the time you would be there. But unfortunately the train stopped in the middle of the tracks for a car accident, twice, and it left you with barely enough time to get here. A short 15 minute ride turned into an hour one. It’s not your fault, no, but she’d somehow blame it on you. You push through the front doors, almost dropping a cup as you run through the halls.

“Fifteen seconds!” You fly by Professor Jung’s class, shooting him a glare as he laughs at you, closing his classroom door. You slide around a corner, almost making it to the auditorium. The bells ring before you can open the doors. You slow down, swinging it open with your free pinky and running inside. The room is already full with your students, the Dean sitting in the corner of the classroom, her glasses resting on the tip of her nose. She sighs softly, rubbing her face as you run up the steps, placing the coffee carefully on the podium. You throw your bag down on the table next to it, reaching for the projector remote and turning it on.

The chatting from the students fades out when you clear your throat, tapping on the mic lightly.

“Today’s lesson,” you start, trying to catch your breath. “Is that you never trust public transportation. Ever,” you add. A few students chuckle, your Dean’s frown deepening. The world must be against you; on the one day you needed to be early you couldn’t. And it’s the day she evaluates how you run your classes. You sigh into the mic, rubbing your face. “Pardon me, but I left my usb on the train by accident. Still, you all have the slides I emailed you correct?”

A hand is raised in the front, and you gesture to her. “Yes, Soyeon?”

She points to your side table, “Professor, the coffee is spilling everywhere.”

You quickly turn, the brown liquid dripping to the floor. Perfect. Just… perfect.

“That was a disappointing show you gave me this afternoon, Professor y/n,” your Dean says once all the students leave. There’s no use in hanging your head in shame, but you do anyway. It was indeed embarrassing, but you could’ve been worse. You heard that one of the anatomy professors broke a projector and wrote on the whiteboard in permanent marker.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean for anything like that to happen. We were supposed to use the coffee for watercolor, but so many things went wrong and…” you trail off, her unpleasant frown only deepening as you try to excuse yourself. “I’m sorry.”

“This is unacceptable,” she starts up again, tucking her files into a thick black binder. “I’ll have to reduce your classes next semester, Professor. At least until you get your act together. You won’t earn a permanent spot on the faculty if you continue down this route.” She stands, tucking her purse underneath her shoulder.

“Wait, is there anything I can do? Please, I really didn’t mean for this to happen. I had an amazing lesson planned but things just happened. Please Dean, I really do apologize. I’ll do my best the rest of the semester.” You can’t lose your spot here. This is one of the top universities in the country, and being fired or removed from the faculty is a black stain on your record. No one would want to hire you. You’d be forced to move back to your hometown, and deal with the disappointed looks your parents will give you.

She pauses, eyeing you. “Despite your display today, the students do enjoy your classes. You’ve had high ratings in comparison to the other adjuncts that are currently here. So although I do not like what happened, I can give you another chance. Professor Kim Hongjoong is teaching another class right after this block, and I would like for you to shadow him. Attend his class tonight, and speak to him after about times where he can help assist you in your journey to possibly becoming a full time faculty member. Will that be okay with you?”

“Yes!” you say it a bit too loudly, coughing. “I mean, yes. Thank you for helping me out.”

"You do know the reason why I observed your class. A student complained about your tardiness. That is something we don't allow at our university."

"I understand," you plaster a fake smile as she nods, leaving you behind in the classroom. You know exactly which student told on you; the only person you've ever failed. He was the grandson of one of the university's largest donors (to the point where a building was named after their family) so it was unthinkable to fail a student in that high regard. You hate nepotism, so you didn't give them a chance. He barely showed up to class, and expected an A? You could barely hold in your exasperated scoff when he complained to you. And that choice led you to now. On the brink of losing your job.

"Fucking hell," you mutter, making your way back to the podium to pick up your things. Shadowing Professor Kim. It's going to be a long, long night.

You grip the large coffee in your hand as you walk in the classroom. It’s a large art studio, several paintings on display already. You were going to take a seat in the back, but you decided to place your things on the side and observe the work instead. You take slow steps, taking in each painting. Being an art professor yourself, you can see what techniques each student used, and where they lacked. But overall, the paintings were amazing, especially for a freshman class. Students began to walk in while you were walking around, so you sit in the far back, enough to not disturb but close enough to see what’s going on.

“Evening,” Professor Kim walks into the classroom. You’ve seen him on campus a lot. The art department is pretty liberal with its dress code but he always stands out from the rest; customized clothing that he obviously did himself, piercings lining his ear, nose, and brow. Most of his clothing is oversized but it fits him well. You’ve sat near him in meetings, his jovial nature contagious. And he wasn’t bad looking, at all. You often were at a loss whenever he spoke, his soft tone pleasing to the ear.

Hongjoong gives easy smiles to the students, chatting with each before he gets to the middle of the circle. He claps his hands, a light grin on his lips. “Ready to paint tonight? A quick recap, we’re on the last night of this painting, and for the next, it’ll be freestyle. Any painting medium you’d like, just make sure you can finish it in five sessions.”

Light groans fall from the lips of the students, and he nods, “I know I know. I’d rather at least eight, but we only have six classes left until your final. Need five of those to work on it. Oh,” his eyes flick to yours. “Didn’t even realize we had a guest.”

“Ah, sorry. Thought the Dean mentioned it,” you say, bowing quickly to him. He waves you off, telling the students to start on his paintings. He makes his way over to you, hopping over brushes that lie scattered across the tiles. He stumbles slightly over his own feet, before making it to you and stretching out his hand. You take it with ease, noticing his painted nails. They’re black, fingers adorned with rings.

No wonder students fought to get into his class.

“I’ve seen you in meetings, but we never get the chance to speak,” he says, grinning. “Nice to officially meet you. I’m Professor Kim, but you already know that.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Professor y/n,” your smile matches his. “But of course, you already know that.”

He laughs loudly, completely genuine. “Well, I’m assuming the Dean put you up to this? She always sends people she doesn’t like to my class,” he sighs. “Not your fault!” he says quickly, eyes widening. “God, now you probably think it is your fault. This is why the other professors don’t like me.” His pout is almost adorable, but you don’t get the chance to dwell. A student calls him over, and he apologizes, leaving you back to your own devices.

You sit back in your spot, watching as he speaks to the students softly. You hear various music genres playing out of students’ headphones as he makes his way around. He definitely has a lot of leeway in his class, the Dean telling you that you couldn’t allow students to play music while they’re drawing. Sure, this is your first semester teaching at this university, but you know how to run a classroom. You’ve been teaching at public highschools for years. So you sit there bitterly, watching as students listen to his advice, his slight jumps when he thinks of an idea, his widened eyes as he listens to their feedback. You could probably watch him all day.

A soft bell rings out in class. He turns off his alarm, saying his goodbyes to students. They clean up their workstations as he packs his things, moving around the students and making his way over to you. “So, what d'ya think?” He wiggles his brows, his piercing moving along with it. “I honestly am not too sure why she’d make you shadow my class, especially in the middle of the semester. I’m not doing much but watch them paint,” he rubs the back of his head sheepishly.

“Nope, I can definitely see why they’ve taken this class,” you admit, looking at the paintings. “I mean, they’re just freshmen and they already have their own styles and ways of doing things. And you don’t dismiss it like I’ve seen others do. You embrace it and encourage them to build on it,” you meet his eyes. “Think you have an open spot for a professor?”

He laughs, blush coating his cheeks. “You’re flattering me.”

“Maybe, or maybe I’m being one-hundred-percent honest,” you grin, throwing your tote over your shoulder. “I think a few of your students have questions. I’ll see you next class, hm?” You gesture to a group of young women.

He nods, wishing you a goodnight and quickly moving over to the students. You shake your head at him, moving around the easels and leaving the room.

It’s a bit intimate, watching another’s eyes as they focus on something else entirely. The quiet observation, hushed breath as they take in whatever they’re looking at. Observing how they smile, their eyes widening in realization, the way their gaze flicks to yours in awe. It’s overwhelming when your eyes finally meet, your stomach dropping slightly when they look at you in surprise. There Hongjoong is, staring at your eyes as you look back in shock. You wonder if he felt the drop that you usually do, but he keeps your gaze, soft and innocent. Until you see his pierced brow quirk up, waiting for you to say something. That’s when you have to tear away, show your excitement without focusing on his gaze.

“I can believe you have this set! I mean, how? Really, how. Did you steal it from Picasso or something? Raid an art supplier? Professor Kim, this is insane,” you hold it delicately. As if the palette will suddenly shatter if you gripped it too tightly. Of course it wouldn’t, but no ordinary person just holds this.

You’ve been shadowing him for the past two weeks, watching as he walked around the classroom with effortless confidence, spoke to his students with excitement only someone who’s passionate about their subject could muster. Professor Kim Hongjoong was one of the most talented and spirited colleagues you’ve ever met. A lot of them were older and cared less about teaching art (not all, but many). But the way he commanded the room had you silent, staring in awe. Looking past his outer appearance, he cared about what he did. And it only made your dilemma more difficult.

The two of you spent time outside of class together; at first speaking about classes, but soon going into discussions about personal lives and hobbies. You learned that he had his own studio and he invited you to it one night. So, here you are, staring at one of the rarest painting palettes to exist.

Hongjoong laughs at your suggestions, shrugging. It’s modest how casual he is about having it in his possession, and it’d make you want to slap him if you weren’t so immersed in the bright colors. “A friend of mine had a friend who was friends with a famous art seller. Word spreads around, and I found out where they sold these sets. I sold my first car just to get it,” he says.

Your eyes almost fall from their sockets. “You’re shitting me.”

“Shh,” he holds a paint covered finger to his lips, glancing at the open studio door. “The dean will kill us both if she hears you speaking with banned, colorful words,” he wiggles his fingers, and you laugh. “What? You know her, she’d take classes away from me next semester!”

“Not you, but maybe me,” you say, placing the palette back in its place. “She’s been out to get me ever since I won that faculty award last February,” you frown. “It’s not like she could win anyway, no one likes her. And it’s rare for a student to enjoy her history classes. I barely kept my eyes open when I was an undergrad here.”

He frowns. "I was unfortunately one of those faculty members that had to sit in on one of her lectures. I can see why her ratings were so low," he snickers. "Her tenure was definitely the only thing keeping her here. And she isn't too bad as the dean. A bit straight laced for an art school, but you have to be in a position like that.”

“Yea,” you agree, placing the palette back in its spot. You look around the room. You can tell that he loved using acrylics the most, his paintings abstract and bright. But you saw racks and racks of custom clothing as well. It was definitely a messy studio, he mentioned it before you entered, but you loved it. It’s like you’re walking into his mind, seeing what he’s seeing. You stop at an unfinished painting. It looks like a person, though you can’t quite tell who it is.

“That’s my first love,” he says behind you, hands tucked in his pockets. “She tore up my heart, but she was my muse and the start of my journey. S’not finished, but,” he runs his hands along the outside of the canvas. “Not sure if I want to finish it anyway.”

“It’s already beautiful,” you say, tilting your head. The strokes are bold, as if he was angry as he painted. It’s barely done, but you can already imagine where it’ll end up. “Fucking Hell. You’re one of the most talented people I’ve ever met.”

His laugh is loud, echoing around the large room. You turn to him in mock anger, pouting. “Are you laughing at me, Professor Kim?”

He nods, “Don’t know why I get all giggly when I’m around you. Maybe it’s because you’re my crush.”

“Don’t tease,” you roll your eyes, ignoring the thump in your throat. You hold it in, only a grin exposing your feelings.

Nothing else came of that night. Just you wondering each day if he actually meant those words. If he found you attractive, if he had a crush on you. He didn’t mention it again to you either, the heavy flirting continuing. It almost made you feel a bit kiddish, thinking about your crush on him. You thought you grew out of the giggling with your friends about a boy stage, but apparently not. You’ve spent each night recollecting his words, screaming into your pillow. It was embarrassing and you’d rather not think about it. But he’s been on your mind ever since, taking over every day dream.

“It’s pathetic,” you murmur, putting an earbud in your ear. You’re at the annual conference with other professor’s, making a painting to showcase at the end of the event. You only had a few hours and you barely started, most of your canvas empty. You glance to your side, looking at Hongjoong’s. His was as covered as yours, so it was a relief. You looked back at your painting, feeling a heavy stare.

You glance to the side again, Hongjoong meeting your gaze.

“I hate being stared at, you know,” you retort. His lips curve into that lopsided grin of his, your face warming without remorse. “That implies that I want you to stop staring, Professor Kim.”

“It’s your fault you’re so pretty, Professor. It’s a bit hard to look away even for a brief moment,” he says softly. But he follows what you say, eyes moving back to his painting. As if he didn’t utter the tenderest compliment you’ve ever heard. You let your hand rest against your chest, trying to control your heart. You don’t notice how his eyes flick back to yours for a moment, amused.

"You can't say things like that," you start. He pauses his stroke, glancing at you.

"Why not?"

"People might get the wrong idea." (People = yourself).

"And what if it's not wrong at all?" He raises that pierced brow of his again. It's taking everything in you to stay in your spot, your teeth grinding together as you grip your stump. Think good thoughts think good thoughts–

"I want you, Professor y/n. It's as simple as that," he adds in.

You almost press the paintbrush into the canvas, hard. You look around quickly, the other professors in the room too immersed in their artwork to notice what he’s saying. And all of them have headphones on, so his soft whispers won’t go past you. You look back at him, wetting your paintbrush.

“Don’t tease me,” you whisper back, lightly mixing the red.

He sighs softly, “I’m not teasing. I don’t know how much more obvious I can make it. We’ve been on two dates already.”

This time, you do paint incorrectly, your brush falling to the floor. You grab your cloth, dabbing the canvas quickly to get rid of the mistake. Luckily it disappears in an instant. You let out a sigh of relief, turning to Hongjoong. You lean closer to your canvas, making sure no one can read your lips.

“Two dates? I don’t even remember the first?”

“First, my studio. Second,” he gestures around here. “This.”

“You’re calling this conference a date?”

“I invited you to sit next to me,” he smiles, glancing at you. “Is that not enough for one?”

Kim Hongjoong may be one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever laid your eyes on, but man, was he a dumbass. You nudge his foot, glaring at him. “You are such a-!”

“Hm?” He raises his brow. “Such a what, y/n?”

You lose your train of thought, mouth opening and closing as he stares at you in amusement. You never thought that someone saying your name would sound so… alluring. You swallow, turning back to your painting. He doesn’t say anything else to you, but you feel his shoe tap yours. You still don’t say a word, even as his foot covers yours.

“I swear Hongjoong–”

He stops tapping, and you falter.

“Hongjoong?” He whispers softly. “Fuck, say my name again.”

Nope.

You stand, grabbing his arm. He yelps, a few professors glancing. This is completely and utterly unprofessional, but you don’t care at that moment. Because right now, you want to find the nearest empty conference room and - well. You drag him into the first room you see. Just as you peek in and make sure no one is around, he shuts and locks the door behind you. There’s only a momentary pause, before his lips are on yours. His work is quick, teeth hitting against one another’s, vests tossed to the side, coats somewhere on the opposite side of the room. Your back hits the conference table rather harshly, ouch spilling from your lips. It makes his quick pace falter for a moment to look at you in concern, but you’re already unbuttoning your blouse. He lifts his shirt up with one hand, and you have only but a brief moment to admire his tattoo decorated skin before he’s on you again.

“Think they’ll notice we’re gone?” You tease through kisses, his lips traveling down your neck. He snorts slightly, looking back up at you.

“They wouldn’t if you weren’t so involved in the presentations,” he slips off his pants, playing with the buckle of yours. Your hands cover his, aiding him. Soon enough you’re both pantless

“No one was speaking up, there had to be a sacrifice- oh-”

His fingers slip into your underwear, sinking into you with ease. His palm nudges your clit as he does so, lips still against your neck. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer into you. He curls them, moving in and out quickly. You hold back a moan, fingers digging into his skin. You hear a speaker in the distance, grabbing his hands and pulling them out. He looks at you in confusion, but you only slip your hand into his pants, stroking his cock. He groans, head pressing against your shoulder.

“No time,” he murmurs.

“I know, that’s why we need to be quick,” you whisper, nudging him closer to you. “Think you can fuck me and be done in less than five minutes?”

He rolls his eyes, “Not in college anymore.”

“Hongjoong…” you frown, and he swallows slowly.

“Fuck, I love when you say my name,” he pushes his underwear down. Just as you’re about to say it again, his cock sinks into you with ease. You press your hand against your mouth, holding back the moan that threatens to escape. His fingers grip your hips, pulling you closer to him as he presses his hips into you. You let your hand slip in between the both of you, rubbing your clit at the pace he sets. His fingers dig harshly, breaths loud.

“You feel so good around me,” he mumbles. “Just like art.”

“Joong,” you utter, only causing him to move quicker. He lets go of one side of your hip, moving your own hand away and rubbing your quickly. “Fuck, I’m close.”

“Come for me, pretty girl, come on,” his teeth bite your neck softly. You wrap your arms around his back, humping his hand. It happens much quicker than you realize, his soft whispers in your ear pushing you over the edge. You hold him tightly as he stills of you. “y/n, fuck, y/n I need to come pretty girl.”

You let him go and he pulls out immediately. He disappears before your eyes in a moment, grabbing the garbage under the two of you and coming. The sight is humorous in itself, but you’re in too much of a daze to let a laugh out. You slowly get up from the table, looking around for your vest as you pull up your pants. He steadies himself, turning around to look at you. A lazy smile crosses his lips, following your suit to redress. After a couple of minutes of gathering yourselves, you turn, looking at him.

“A garbage can?” You snicker, tossing him the hand sanitizer you keep in your pocket. He catches it with ease, frowning.

“There’s nothing else around!”

He adjusts his shirt, messily. You move closer to him, helping him adjust his coat and shirt to look not too wrinkled. He does the same for you, tucking loose strands of hair back into its place. His eyes stay on yours as you do so, flicking back to your lips.

“I wasn’t lying,” he says. “You are pretty beautiful, y/n.”

“You’re pretty handsome too, Professor Kim,” you smile at him, ignoring the rattling of your heart.

“I don’t…” he trails off, thinking. “I don’t want this to be a one time thing, I want us to be more than a one time thing. You’re more than that to me.”

“I want that too, Hongjoong.”

Relief washes over his face at your words, “You’re not teasing me right?”

“No, I do like you. I wouldn’t have let you do any of that if I didn’t. But maybe we take it slower next time? Like taking me out for coffee?”

“Okay,” he steps away from you, glancing at the door. “Time to go, then?”

“As long as you don’t go out there with that lipstick on your mouth,” you grin. He grabs his phone and looks at his face. There it is - a long streak of lipstick against his cheek. He rubs it quickly, using your hand sanitizer.

“You would have let me walk out there like that?” He asks, eyes wide. You only shrug, walking past him and out into the hallway.

#fic: kings play #hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez oneshot #hongjoong fanfic #this has been in the drafts since april 2022....

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tofupixel · 4 months

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Hi! Your work is really inspiring, thank you for sharing. I'm an artist who wants to work in the indie game industry, but I have no idea where to start, any tips?

thank you!

i suppose it depends on what kind of art you do, but i can talk about pixel art and what i did

first of all you need a portfolio. it can be tricky cos you need the work to put in there to begin with. i actually had to make tilesets and stuff in my free time because i didn't have much from my jobs i could put in

heres my portfolio btw BUT IF YOU WANT TO WORK ON GAMES, PUT YOUR GAME STUFF AT THE TOP mines at the bottom cos im mostly interested in illustration work

another thing i did was ask people for portfolio reviews, if you know anyone who already works in the industry. if you can find some artists you could even email them and they would prob help you. i got a portfolio crit by a couple people who handle hiring at their studios and it helped a lot

here is an example of a good gameart portfolio they showed me, they hire this guy all the time. if you don't have actual game credits just make that stuff in your free time, they just want to know if you could do what theyre looking for

after you get a portfolio there are a few websites where you can find teams looking to hire, remote and non remote positions

i would really recommend you to start following indie games and studios. you can reach out to them via DM or email etc and there is a good chance they will respond. i was dreaming of working on a particular game before, and I just DMed them and they actually took me on

but mostly people just reach out to me and i do freelance stuff. i would say at about 5-10k followers i was able to consistently find work just through posting regularly

also u should make friends, get involved in communities if possible. twitch is a great place to be. nowadays friends who work on other stuff just reach out to me and offer me to work with them. it takes a while building relationships but that can carry you once you get there

basically just put yourself out there (spread yourself far and wide!!) and keep growing, i think if u post good stuff consistently and make friends u will be fine! there are studios and teams every day looking for artists

#qna #pixel art #gamedev #tutorial #how to get a job tutorial

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laracrofted · 3 months

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born from dark water (daughter of the rain and snow)

His hand settles on her clavicle, long fingers wrapping around the column of her throat, and Osha closes her damp eyes, pulse racing under his palm, her mind reeling. Is it worse to beg? To plead for her life with a man who –

Gently, Qimir tips her chin up. And kisses her.

(or, after leaving the Jedi and becoming a bounty hunter, Osha is hired to hunt down a dangerous Jedi Killer on a remote ice world and ends up stranded with him in a snow storm. He makes a pretty convincing case for letting him go.)

Read on AO3

Completed | Star Wars (Osha Aniseya/Qimir) | Explicit Word Count: 7,197

#wrote this in a 48-hour fever dream #because I love them and I love this show #and I will be bringing some of you down with me #I have a horrible screen headache so I'm going to log off now lol #qimir fic #oshamir fic #osha x qimir #qimir x osha #osha x qimir fic #the acolyte fic #laracrofted writes

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exclusivelyremote · 2 months

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Building a Strong Remote Work Culture: Tips for Success

Creating a strong remote work culture is essential for any organization with a distributed team Discover ways to support employee well-being, encourage collaboration, and align everyone with your company's goals. Whether you're new to remote work or looking to enhance your existing setup, these tips will help you cultivate a supportive and efficient remote work culture.

#remote #hiring #exclusively #agency #talent #management #exclusively remote #staffing #blog #tips

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fishnapple · 3 months

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Neptune's mode of expression

Random observations about how Neptune expresses itself in my daily life.

My aspects: Neptune as 12th's lord sitting on MC, Neptune aspecting Sun/Moon/Venus/AC

• Confused look (both me and the person looking at me)

• People stare at me, I stare back at them, no change in their gaze. Make me wonder am I an inanimate human being or an animate object.

• People getting startled in elevator when they realised that I was standing in the same elevator with them during the whole ride (context: me alone in the elevator then the other person walked in but only realised my existence when I was about to walk out)

• Spacious bus station but people insist on standing right in front of me, the distance between my nose tip and their back could be measured by the length of one finger. If anyone wants to hire a backstabber (in the literal sense), please contact me.

• "I thought you were a foreigner"

• "You don't seem to have worldly desires"

• "Searching for your home planet?"

• "You walk like a zombie", "Are you walking or floating?"

• People assuming me being innocent and naive, need to be taught without actually talking to me.

• I can guess people's astrological signs through their assumptions of my sign. I had people guessing the whole zodiac for my Sun sign. "Oh you probably are Scorpio or Virgo" can be translated as they having Scorpio or Virgo placements. My ideal career is probably being a mirror or a projector screen.

• My motivation has avoidant attachment style. It ghosts me when I make demand on it.

• The most enjoyable aspect of sleeping is the dreams.

• The most enjoyable aspect of staying awake is daydreaming.

• Hermit is a very attractive word.

• Loud noises, the bane of my existence.

• Having random amusing thoughts then forget about them the next minutes. The past me probably had more fun things to write in this post than the present me.

• Fascination with watery, bubbly, oceanic stuff.

• Liking floaty, lightweight, oversized clothes so I can swim in them.

• The inner happening vs How people perceive it: crying river from the anxiety of public speaking = "oh you look so calm", being sad because I've lost something = "is there something good happening for you?", getting excited about dinner = "Why do you look so down?" *hence the confused look*

• Getting assigned to do the decoration of any project or getting asked whenever there's something remotely artsy needed to be done, like gift wrapping even though I've never shown any sign of being experienced at gift wrapping.

• Perpetually confused about my life path.

• Can cry at everything and nothing.

• Getting introduced to astrology since primary school.

• Messy space means creative mind = The mantra I use to soothe the nagging feeling whenever I see my messy space.

• "Your desk looks like the stationery shop/ witchcraft shop"

And many more observations but they've escaped my clutch.

#random observations #astrology #astro notes #astro observations #astrology observations #astro community #astro placements #astro posts #neptune #neptune placement #neptune aspects #spirituality #astroblr #Occult

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trashbag-baby666 · 3 months

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ceo!john and assistant!gale au head canons!

Brought to you by me and @skyyguy (nsfw under the cut)

mota masterlist!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

•John is the 31 year old heir to the Jack Daniel’s fortune and company. He’s unhappily married to a woman he isn’t sure he ever loved. They both have spent their entire marriage cheating on each other and avoiding the other.

•Gale is a ftm femme trans college student looking to get his foot in the door anywhere to make an adequate amount of money. He feels lost in his life like he’s wandering aimlessly waiting for something to happen.

•Gale and John initially meet at the Velvet Lounge, a high end gay bar. Gale bartends there and John was looking for a change of scenery. Find a new place, maybe a new guy or three to sleep with to fill his void.

•But the bartender seems to do just the trick for him.

•Gales in his stiff dark, royal purple tuxedo vest over his white, freshly pressed button down. Truthfully, he hated bartending but he made a decent salary here and good tips so he couldn’t really complain.

•He spent his evening mixing drinks and fetching beer for the wealthiest lgbt’s of the area. Or the ones just looking for a nicer night out then the place a couple blocks down.

•John had sat quietly as to not disturb Gales flow of work until he wanted another whiskey.

•The two get to chatting when it slows down for awhile.

•Next thing John knows he’s waiting in the single stall bathroom for Gale to finish his shift.

•To put it in terms, John nailed Gale into the bathroom wall.

•John, needs a new assistant so he tells Gale to send him his resumé if he wants a job that pays him more.

•So he hires Gale as his new personal assistant.

•The first three months they keep their relationship strictly professional…and because John, finally filed for divorce…

•John doesn’t want Gale to think he hired him just because he’s attractive. He could see from Gales Resumé that he was a smart boy. He excelled in all of his university classes and previous jobs.

•He waits until Gale makes the first initial step towards a sexual relationship again.

•It’s hot and steamy I’ll tell you that much.

•John starts knocking things off his desk, accidentally, so Gale has to bend over in his pencil skirt. John just sits back and enjoys his view, the tight skirt hugging his ass.

•Gale puts on as much as a show as possible when he does it too.

•Their main hookup spot is in the top floor’s storage closet. They’re not even the only people who use it…

•When John gets braver, he pushes his hand up Gales skirt in the middle of meetings and begin to play with him.

•John calls in Gale during some meetings to get him all flustered infront of his colleagues.

•Gales favorite, is when John breaks out the remote control vibrator in the lace panties…

•John makes Gale bring him and the others in the conference room coffee. Everytime he leans over to give someone their coffee, John activates it. Gale has to do everything in his power to bite down on his tongue and keep himself composed. He’s trying so hard for his knees to not give out on him as John turned on a high pulsating setting.

•Gales absolutely nearly soaked through, he’s worried it’s going to show through his skirt. John sends him out and messages him to meet in the closet after the meeting.

•I’m sure we all know how that went.

•Gale’s T dick, enlarged and throbbing inside John’s lips. The man putting on a show of stringing him out, although he’s already came twice.

•They lay there after for almost a full hour before getting up. Gale’s exhausted and can barely keep his eyes open let alone even thinking about walking around after that.

More to come soon :3 <33

Taglist: @austeenbootler @coastiewife465 @executethyself35 @slowsweetlove

#masters of the air #mota #mota au #john egan #gale cleven #bucky egan #buck cleven #clegan #modern au #theo writes #trashbag baby666 fics

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vintagesage123 · 2 months

Text

Fired Gojo x Reader

its been 2 years but i'm back, see you in another two maybe

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That was it, really. No thank you for the years of torture no i'm sorry for all the stress i've put you through over the last 5 years of your life, no of course not, the asshole couldn't even come and tell me he was firing me himself.

All i was provided with was the cardboard box that I was supposed to put my things in. Fuck that, if they want me gone they can pack it them self. I've spent 5 years working my ass off in this company, i'm not spending another second in this hell hole.

16 hours later:

Something does't feel right, my head feels as if my brain is fighting to get out, my legs are like jelly, the hot body pressed to me from behind, and oh yeah that man's arm around me. Wait who the hell is that? ''Good morning sexy'' he smirks against my neck. Oh shit, i know that voice, I can already see that smirk just by the tone of his voice. Please tell me i didn't sleep with my old boss, please tell me i didn't sleep with Gojo Satoru.

i turn slowly around and see him, those blue eyes meet mine, still smiling of course. ''so... you wanna order in or should we go out?'' Oh no.

8 hours earlier

There was a banging on my door, I didn't order food did i?. I'm pretty drunk but i think id remember that. Slowly i peep through the hole in my door and see none other than Gojo. Fuck fuck fuck. What if I just pretend i'm not home?

''I know your in there'' Fuck my life.

I groan and open the door '' what do you want?''

''Nice outfit'' i'm wearing a hoodie and pj shorts. He pushes past me into my apartment. ''I have your stuff''

''What stuff?''

''The stuff you left on your desk before you stormed out, obviously'' he puts the box down on my kitchen island.

''Oh well why didn't you just get one of your underlings to bring it, like the way you got one of them to fire me'' i say ''and I also didn't storm out''

''You didn't storm out? then why did James tell me you cursed him out and oh... stormed out'' he laughs at his own joke.

''Whatever, we are done now, i don't have to pretend I like you and you can hire some early twenties bimbo to take my place''

He leans back on the island ''okay firstly'' he holds one finger up ''I didn't fire you for that reason, but thanks for the bimbo tip'' he holds his second finger up ''secondly if i wanted some eye candy I would have kept you, and your also good at your job so that's a bonus''

I step in front of him still a bit flustered from his comment ''Then why did you fire me''

''Your attitude'' he smirks

''My attitude'' i laugh at that ''my attitude, you were the one calling me at 3:30am to see if i could finish the work you didn't bother to get done, and i always got it done''

He leans down to my face ''You did, not very well but you did''

This ass ''Maybe because I don't have a business degree, and oh, IT WAS THREE THIRTY OR LATER''

''Yeahhhh, maybe that's why, anyways, whatcha doinggg'' he looks past my shoulder and sees the half drank bottle of alcohol ''Rough night huh''

''Fuck off'' I make my way to my couch and pour myself another drink.

''Woah, i thought your attitude was bad before, now your a full blown bitch. Keep that up and you might turn me on'' he makes his way over to sit beside me and pours himself a drink''

''What the hell is wrong with you'' i laugh.

''Oh my God'' he looks to me shocked.

''What, what is it!?'' i freeze.

''Your face doesn't crack when you smile''

''What is wrong with you, seriously, i thought there was an axe murder behind me'' I exhale.

He grabs the remote ''what are we watching, fight club, planet of the apes ohhh bullet train?''

I think of telling him to go home but that would be more work than just dealing with his presence ''uhhh bullet train''

It's about an hour in. He has spread himself out on the couch, the bottle's empty and we are pretty drunk. In this light hes kinda hot, well he was always hot, but tonight is the first time iv'e actually looked, like really looked. As I'm looking at him he catches me in the side of his eye. Oh no hes going to make a big deal out of this isn't he''

''See something you like'' he smirks

''Yeah Aaron Taylor Johnson is pretty hot''

''Anything else you like?'' he looks at me with that big cheshire grin.

''I mean Brad Pitt is pretty nice to look at'' he rolls his eyes at that. I almost feel like laughing.

''Sure you don't see anything else'' he grabs my thigh. What the fuck.

''No not really'' i gulp, there's no hiding how nervous i am now.

''Just relax, we've both had a pretty shitty day, why not relax?'' he lifts his hand up higher until hes almost touching me. Oh my god.

''If i say yes this doesn't mean anything, okay'' Is this a good idea, probably not, but i'm drunk and really fucking horny so fuck it.

He pulls me onto his lap ''You say no its a no, you say yes its a yes, you say its nothing then its nothing, what you say goes''

''Fuck it'' i pull him down to me and kiss him, and oh fuck he tastes good, like mint and alcohol.

He's holding me by my hips and grinding me down onto him, hes already hard ''fuck your so hot'' he says making his way down my neck. He picks me up from under my thighs ''where is your bedroom''

''Straight down the hall first left'' he drops me on the bed and crawls between my legs slowly pulling my shorts and panties down.

''Fuck, how long has it been baby, your soaking'' i really don't want to give him that answer, so I ignore him.

He puts his tongue on my lips and i already feel like i'm about to burst and he hasn't even gone near my clit ''Satoru'' i moan.

''How long baby, i wont lick you again if you don't tell me''

This asshole ''I don't know like...three years''

His smile drops ''how are you alive''

''Not all of us have a sex addiction'' he licks my clit this time and fuccckkk.

''I don't have a sex addiction'' he keeps licking''

''How many times have you called me late at night to 'leave to deal with a work emergency' because you wanted to get away from a woman'' he nips my thigh. ''Ow Satoru'' i hiss.

''I love it when you say my name'' he slides two fingers in me and it doesn't take him long to find that spot.

My legs start to shake and my thighs clamp around his head and then i'm seeing stars. Fuck i'm cumming already. He's good, easily my best, ill never tell him that of course.

When i think he's done he keeps going, overstimulating me ''wait Satoru, it's to much'' i moan out.

''How are you supposed to expect me to stop when you say my name like that, anyways I need to get you ready for me'' not long after he says that does he draw circles on my clit with that magic tongue and fuck i'm seeing stars again.

''Satoru'' i moan. Finally he pulls away from me. He pulls my hoodie over my head and see's i'm not wearing anything under it.

''Fuckkkkkk'' he kisses my neck and make his way down to my nipple and takes the left one in his mouth, letting me grind myself on his thigh.

He pulls himself back up to kneel in between my thighs ''I to be in you'' he pulls his fly down ''do you have protection''

''I haven't had sex in four years, so no'' this idiot

He smiles at me, what the hell is he smiling at ''thought you said three years''

''Shut up'' i grit out ''i'm on the pill, just pull out''

I've never seen this man smile more than after that sentence ''fuck yes baby'' he rips off his shirt and pulls down his sweatpants and fuck, no wonder these women keep coming back, easily 8 inches and fat to. Maybe he was right in making sure i was ready, this one time he was right.

''You ready baby'' he says stroking himself and lining himself up to my entrance.

I nod and that's all the confirmation he needs, he pushes himself in all the way ''fuckkkk baby your so fucking tight'' and fuckkkkk, hes right again, It's hitting just right, no man's fingers let alone his cock could hit that deep, but here the one man i thought I'd never sleep with is eight inches deep and i'm loving every second of it.

He starts thrusting at a slowed pace but doesn't take long to build up a rough fast pace. He lifts my legs up to my shoulder's and if i didn't think he was hitting the spot before, he sure is now.

He's not shy about showing how he enjoys sex, hes moaning and grunting just as much as me and it's turning me on more than i've ever been turned on before. He throws his head back in pure bliss ''Fuck baby, where is it''

I can't even think when hes hammering into that spot ''where's what'' i moan in between his thrusts.

''Your vibrator, you haven't had a cock in four years, you definitely have one'' he smiles. I stare at him in shock, how does know that.

''Em, in the nightstand'' without pulling out he grabs the bullet from the nightstand and puts it over my left nipple ''FUCK'' i moan.

Slowly he brings the vibrator down to my clit and in less than a minute i'm seeing stars. He doesn't stop there, he keeps abusing that spot and my clit. The only noises in the room is our skin and moans and before long i'm coming around him again. ''Fuck baby your so hot when you cum''

Tears are streaming down my face from the overstimulation, fuck its all to much, hes to much. ''Come on baby, just one more beautiful'' he lets my legs down and lays above me ''your so sexy baby he says kissing my neck comforting me ''your okay just give me one more''

''Satoru'' i moan and i'm cumming with him.

8 hours later:

Oh yeah that happened

note:

This is the second story i've written so the grammar and pacing might be a bit off but hope you enjoy and please id love some constructive criticism.

another note:

In this story i talked about pulling out, if your having sex pulling out doesn't work, please be careful and use protection.

#gojo x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo x y/n #gojo x you

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