#-'the world i was born in has always been hell'

[kerosene-in-a-blender]

One thing about Orym saying that he can't put down the lens he sees the world with is that he's completely correct, he's always going to be viewing the moon plot and the conflict with the Ruby Vanguard from the perspective of "a guy whose husband and father were murdered by the Vanguard", but the same could be said about the rest of the party. They all have pre-existing experiences and attitudes that have shaped their perspective on things. Orym isn't uniquely biased in this sense.

The most obvious one is of course Imogen, as her long-absent mother is a Vanguard general. She heard Liliana's voice in her Ruidusborn nightmares telling her to run as long as she had those nightmares, and she came to associate that with her mother trying to protect her from whatever the red storm was. It resulted in Imogen giving a lot of grace to Liliana once she found out she was alive and with the Vanguard, a grace that more recent experiences are now making Imogen start to believe was misplaced, but a grace that was born over what she considered her mother's voice to be for years.

Fearne was raised in relative isolation in the Feywild by Nana Morri, and as result her approach to a lot of the events she's now embroiled in has an oddly naive slant to it. The whole would is new to her and she's approaching it like someone who is new to it; there's a lack of understanding of implications that she has that goes beyond her simply being fey. This is best seen in how she's grappling with the reveal that Sorrowlord Zathuda is her biological father. She's aware that Zathuda is terrible and that the circumstances that led up to her birth are dubious but there's also a large part of her that desires a connection with him as her parent and feels like they could have a relationship. She's naive to what exactly she is to him, and also influenced by having grown up longing for the parents that left her with Morri.

Ashton lost their parents and found themself blown halfway across the world after a cult ritual went wrong, and had a spectacularly shitty life that he often found himself begging the gods to fix without answer, and as a result he's very down on the idea of gods and even more down on the idea of letting a cult do whatever they want in order to achieve the perfect world that is just beyond reach by whatever means they must. Especially after the entire shard debacle in which Ashton learned that their parents were definitely wrong to do what they did and there were no good ends for the means that they engaged in he's fallen even harder onto the line of, as he said himself, "I hope her ends are fucking great because these means are just not forgivable."

Laudna's sole experience with anything resembling a higher power for much of her 50-odd-years of life has been Delilah Briarwood, the woman who had her horrifically murdered and is still rather explicitly using her as a means to some unknowable-to-Laudna end. This has both made her one of the members of Bells Hells most open to the idea of there being no gods (no more puppet masters) but also the most broadly sympathetic towards Liliana's view of the Ruidusborn (that they are creations of Predathos with no choice but to be slaves to his whims). Her ardent belief that her lift ended on the Sun Tree thirty years ago also means that she often refuses to advocate for herself or her own needs, resulting in moments where she openly wonders if it's Imogen's destiny to join the Vanguard, despite having herself been at one point brutally murdered by a Vanguard general.

FCG made it his mission in life to help people; that desire drove a lot of what he did up to and including his final act of sacrifice for the Hells. They saw the people struggling against the Vanguard and with the world that the Vanguard created and chose to do what they could to help them. Their desire to help even extended towards the gods, as one of the first things they asked of the Changbringer upon gaining the ability to cast Commune was, "Do you need help?". FCG was also a character driven by a desperate desire to find purpose and to understand the "why" of their own existence, a desire that ultimately drove them towards religion as a means of shaping the meaning of his life, and made him the most openly religious member of the group up to the moment of his death.

Chetney, while the most able to look beyond his own biases by virtue of being the oldest and most emotionally mature member of the party, still carries with him the perspective of having been someone who ultimately made little impact on the world up until, in his twilight years, random chance granted him the power to affect change. He gained lycanthrophy, he met other adventurers in the Hells, and got caught up in an end of the world plot and is finally making a true difference in the world. It's made him, arguably, the most enthusiastic adventurer in the party because he views that adventure itself as a gift, and as a way to create a legacy. The desire of legacy is also the reason he made the bargain that he did with Nana Morri; to secure a legacy as a famous toymaker that would persist after he is gone.

Orym's right that he's biased, but it's fallacious to assume that an unbiased perspective exists, because everyone in the story has their lens through which they view the world that they can't put down, not just Orym.

#bias is the human condition #and i count myself in this as well #i have my own perspectives that shape how i engage with the text of the show #critical role #critical role spoilers #cr spoilers #bells hells #orym of the air ashari #fearne calloway #imogen temult #laudna #chetney pock o'pea #fcg

[botanicadrabbles]

Hydrangeas'

Lucifer x Reader

Warnings: Hanahaki fic. Established relationship, jealousy, self-doubt, relationship anxiety, blood, vomit.

Part 1

Word count: 1,241

Hell was never some where people actively wanted to end up; Tales of an eternal afterlife of suffering and punishment, when you first arrived in hell that’s what you expected. Opening your eyes to see a… Some what inviting place, was absolutely not what you had expected.

However that was years ago, now you’re helping Charlie with the hotel, no real want to redeem yourself. Charlie always asks you why and you have to just shrug and not really explain, your relationship with her father was a secret and you didn’t know how she would react to him dating someone else other than her mother.

You always heard from Charlie how amazing their love story is and how deeply in love they where, “I mean he still wears her ring” she would say. You always deluded yourself to think the reason he kept it on was because he still was in love with her. That he still solely cared about her, you felt you had no place to tell him he has to take it off, he was grieving the loss of his wife and you have to respect that.

But when with him, and just him. You never felt any pressure to be something different. Dancing around in his flower garden, his arms resting around your waist, yours hanging loosely around his shoulders.

Music was playing softly in the background, post modern jukebox. He always says how he loves more classical and older styled music compared to the new way music was made, but you where born in the early 2000’s and enjoyed the music you grew up with. So you made a deal (though not a magical one) that we only listen to music covered by them so we both get enjoyment out of music while with eachother.

Stopping for a moment you detached from him to look at the garden, that is why you where invited over after all. To see his flower garden, he stays at the hotel but doesn’t trust any of the staff in the palace to actually look after the garden properly so he comes every day to make sure they’re being well looked after.

Lilies…Lilly of the valley… Royal lilly��� Spider lilly… His love for Lillith ran deep and you’re no longer sure to yourself if he loves you as much.

“Y/N.. Are you alright? You’ve been looking at the flowers for awhile” He says, his voice is so sweet to you and you’re starting to hate it, you hate how jealous you’re becoming…How possessive. You want people say how in love he seems with you, you want flowers to be planted and taken care of as well as he does as these for you. You want to be more with him.

Ofcourse though, he doesn’t give you much more time to think as he scoops you into his arms, pulling you into a deep hug, lifting you off of the ground. Looking down was a mistake as you realise how quickly and how far you had gone off of the ground now.

Like any sane person you cling onto him worried about falling, souls where a fragil thing, and that’s all you where. A sinner, a lost soul who wasn’t good enough to get into heaven.

You could feel the two of you turning slowly in the air like a ballerina in a music box, scared still you look up at Lucifer and he has the worlds most loving and dotefull eyes. The moment seemed perfect, you hadn’t had a first kiss yet and thought it was now or never you swear you feel him pulling away but then feel the rain coming down, he laughs a bit and despite being confused you laugh along as he carefully but quickly hurries the both of you inside.

You can’t help but smile and laugh more at your circus leader boyfriend’s soaked hair and clothing making him look a bit like a sewer rat. He smiles too and for the first moment since being there today there was no doubt, no anxiety or second thoughts about your relationship with him.

“I’ll go get a towel for you” He says grinning with his sharp teeth you nod in response, “Okay Luce” you say and wonder the foyer into the overtly large dining room, raising your eyebrow at the grand and glaringly expensive dining room.

Lucifer doesn’t take long too come back puting the towel on your damp head for you to dry yourself off with. He takes a seat on the chair in front of you as he grabs your hands..Which forces you to drop the towel and look at him. “You’re so gorgeous Y/N” he’d tell you, you smile. You can’t help it, he has that effect on you. Something about him naturally makes you fall for him, wanting his praise and approval, some type of weird spell was cast on you the day you met him.

You didn’t even realise when you said it, fucking hell you regretted it the moment it came past your lips. You felt his hands retract from his, watched as his face fell and fear take over his previously peaceful and happy expression.

“I love you” is what you said..Regret is what you felt when he reacted that way, hurt is what you felt when he said “I’m sorry?” as if the complete notion of ever being loved by someone was lost on him. He laughed a bit when you didn’t respond, as if your feelings where a joke and what you had said was some type of childish prank.

Your heart ached, it twisted and turned and you where still, frozen in place as your heart begged your brain to start to allow you to move, run away. You can’t deal with him laughing in your face. It hurt. It wasn’t until the vomit crawled up into your throat that you felt your eyes tearing up. The rain didn’t seem to be a concern anymore as your legs moved.

They moved faster than you thought you could ever possibly do. Your own mind washing out the way he called out for you, the concerned voices of the hotel patrons and guests as you ran past and into your room.

You didn’t realise the breath you where holding, the amount of emotions you had until your legs trembled and gave out in your bathroom that was attached to your bedroom. Holding onto the bench you felt the vomit come back up your throat. That horrible feeling of vile burning the back of it until you couldn’t take it anymore and gave in.

As you vomited into the toilet, heaving and gasping for air, feeling as if your lungs where crushing under your ribs. Tears brimming your eyes as you hoped for it to pass.

The metallic taste in your mouth brought you out of the daze, confused you pat your finger tips to the soft skin of your lips.. Blood, there was blood on your lip, looking down at the toilet basin you see some of what you expect, pale vomit.. You didn’t expect to see a mix of blood as well as blue and while hydrangea petals.

You thought to yourself how stupid this was.

This had to be some weird curse, you read about it when you where alive. It was fictional right?

Well…Fiction is always based on some type of truth..

#lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #x reader

[iamleesi]

THE HUNTERS & THE SOLDIER

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x OC! Avenger Reader

Summary: You were rescued from Hydra and then joined the Avengers. Bucky seems to hate you and you’re sent on a mission together for undefined time.

Warnings: Mention of experiments, torture and d3ad bodies and things like that. Don’t read if you’re not comfortable with that. Bucky being a bit of an asshole towards you. Also the reader has a name and a last name if that counts as a warning?

Other: This will be some sort of MCU x Supernatural fic. English isn’t my fist language so I apologize in advance for any mistake I made. -> 18+ !!

-> Masterlist

-> Part two

-> Hydra is home (01)

You were born in hell. That’s what Hydra was for you and for everyone who had witnessed the horrors of what happened inside the walls of that place - and there was more than one facility. The worst part is that you didn’t even know, you thought it was normality.

You thought it was normal being used and trained to be a lethal assassin at a young age; you were the youngest and they made you feel special for that. Hydra’s perfect child, that’s how they called you. The only toy you’ve ever had was a knife, and you never questioned it or thought it was horrifying up until you were an adult.

From the earliest age, you were taught that your suffering served a greater purpose, that your pain was going to save that fucked up world you lived in. Not that you had any idea of which color the sky was up until you were six, let alone knowing the rest of the world and it’s shit. You knew no other life besides the walk between your room and the laboratory - the place where you were tied up to those cold metal tables under the gaze of Hydra’s scientists.

But to you, that was normality. That was home, the place you were the safest in - they said. Hydra fed you lies all your life, making you think their atrocities were for the greater good and that you were needed. What they were doing was needed.

Worst thing? You never complained. Always complied.

You learned later on in years that you were being used to recreate a better Super Soldier serum, like the one they used on Captain America and The Winter Soldier. A better, more effective serum that was gonna give them their disciplined weapon, with a few more characteristics. It was a mystery how you survived, to you and to everyone who took a look in your DNA.

They made you a freak.

When you were fifteen, things changed and your whole world turned upside down. It was in the middle of the night that you heard the facility’s alarm, the loud and scary sound meant one thing: bad people had broke in. So you did as you practiced: you moved the rug on floor and used that safety trapdoor to hide, hoping that they wouldn’t find you.

Meanwhile, SHIELD agents were storming in every room of the base, looking for either survivors or Hydra members.

Your heart stopped when the little door above you swung open and you saw a masked man pointing a rifle at you. Hydra was right, you decided then, those were bad people. You don’t exactly remember what happened after, you don’t remember if you tried to fight them or if you passed out. Everything is a blur memory.

What you do remember next, though, is being taken to yet another facility. In the beginning all you could see were monsters who wanted to feed you lies; they said Hydra was bad, that they were a terroristic organization who aimed to rule the world. Crazy, wasn’t it?

Hydra was home.

You didn’t collaborate with them for years, not even when Maria Hill offered you visive proof of how fucked up Hydra was. It was impossible that all you knew, all that you’ve been taught was a lie.

But there was another part: the pain stopped. No more experiments or missions to catch the bad guys with the little help all those samples gave you. No more blood or guns or atrocities - nothing.

Many people amongst SHIELD agents only saw you as just another freak, but weaker than Captain America and with a twisted brain. They saw you as no more than just another Hydra experiment, one that could not be good. You had no name, no family, no friends - you were just existing… and for what? You yourself didn’t know.

Nick Fury was the one who was interested in you. You had heard his name being mentioned a few times before actually meeting him. Perhaps it was just because you had some sort of Super Soldier serum in you and he was only caring for that, but he stepped in and helped you whether you wanted or not.

And he succeeded.

He saw beyond those scars, visible and invisible, recognizing the potential you could have as an actual human being. Fury insisted in your rehabilitation, and with time he saw the first results.

It took you a lot of time and effort to feel like a human being for the first time in 23 years, it wasn’t an easy process by any means and you still weren’t a hundred percent okay with everything. Being told that for fifteen years of you life you were nothing more than a sack of meat with a functioning brain for people to use to their advance wasn’t exactly ideal, especially after learning that it wasn’t normal as you thought.

At first you didn’t even realize how fucked up it was, perhaps you didn’t want to.

But under SHIELD’s care, you started to heal both physically and mentally as best as you could. You were given a name as soon as you were rescued, but you didn’t accept it up until you were 20.

Emma Dayne, that was your new legal name as a free woman. One that had a say in her own life.

That was the name Fury used when you were brought into the Avengers Compound as the newest addition to the team. You, a superhero? Sometimes you felt like you didn’t deserve it. Those people fought against the very same people you called family, those same people who raised you. Thankfully, they never held you accountable for that.

Except him.

James Buchanan Barnes. When he looked at you, all he saw was the enemy: someone who, unlike him, had willingly served Hydra for more than half of her life. He made it clear from the start that he didn’t trust you, he was always cold (which wasn’t rare, but even colder with you) and guarded whenever you were around.

Whenever his eyes found your figure, he couldn’t shake off the memories of his past as the Winter Soldier. The feeling of loss for the years that were stolen from him and that life he could never go back to came back as soon as he saw you, and he started to loathe the sight of you - he felt even worse when he saw how much the other teammates liked you.

But you could not blame him. Not even a bit. You took his silence as a reminder of what you had done - maybe if you had opened your eyes sooner you could have done something, anything, to help him.

After all, you two weren’t completely strangers. You both had worked for the same organization, and you saw him from time to time - you felt guilty. As soon as you saw the hatred in his eyes, when you joined the team, you were consumed by guilt.

But then again, the last time you saw him you were eleven. Super Soldier or not, you were a kid. Your therapist - saint woman - was helping you with that, at least. You knew that earning his trust was gonna take time, and maybe a lifetime wasn’t enough - you knew that in his position you would have been the same. Perhaps his trust wasn’t even your goal, you didn’t know what you wanted from him. You just knew that every time his eyes fell on you, you felt small. Smaller than a bug, and you wanted to change that.

You wanted him to know that you weren’t the enemy he thought you were.

It was a Saturday afternoon when Tony Stark’s voice broke you out of your thoughts, contemporarily snapping his fingers to get your attention. “Dayne, stop thinking about princesses and unicorns. I need your attention, sweetie.”

“Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts.” You replied, crossing your legs under the big, round wooden table. You were in the meeting room with the other Avengers - most of them, anyways, and their eyes were all on you. Not judging, some had smiles on their faces.

Except one who wasn’t even looking at you.

“Happens to the best of us too.” He shrugged it off, pointing at himself with a grin. Usual. “But seriously, now I need everyone’s attention or I fear Fury might kill me.” He continued.

“What’s the situation, Tony?” Steve Rogers inquired, his usual serious expression on.

Tony leaned forward on the table, after he sat down as well, clasping his hands together. “We’ve been getting reports of Hydra activity in various parts of the States.” He explained. “Specifically, they’ve been targeting civilians. They’re kidnapping them for, what we suspect, making experiments. They’re targeting people with no family, no friends or someone who wouldn’t look for them. They found the first body near the Donner Lake, in California. The first we were able to identify, at least.”

A picture of a woman appeared on a screen behind Tony, and he continued. “Taylor Harris. She was their first slip- up, as the woman had an ex husband and a kid. He divorced her because apparently she had an addiction to drugs and was physically abusive towards the kid. Ever since then, he got a restraining order against her and the full custody of the kid. Should have gone to jail but she went missing. She actually got missing three weeks ago, and she’s been presumably dead for at least a week.”

“What makes us think this is Hydra?” Clint said, his voice stern. The man had tried to retire about six times and yet there he was. “America is full of psychopaths.”

“True.” Tony nodded. “But they made some tests and traces of the Super Soldier serum was found. If it’s not Hydra, then I don’t know what we’re dealing with.”

“I thought they had the Super Soldier serum already.” Thor frowned, his mighty Mjolnir always by his side. “Why are they kidnapping people?”

“They had something else. They weren’t able to recreate it after they used it on Bucky.” You said, looking at the God. “They tried everything to come close to it, but pretty much all the subjects they experimented on died. Some turned into… things. And eventually got killed when they didn’t comply. I was the only result they had.”

“So… they want another you.” Thor looked at you.

You shrugged. “They want a lot of things. Probably they’re looking forward to make something that can’t break out of their control.”

“If you were ever out of their control.” You heard him mumble those words under his breath, but no one else seemed to hear. You were used to it by now, so you stayed silent as the conversation between the Avengers went on.

“So what do we do?” Natasha sighed, crossing her arms under her chest. Both her feet on the table as it was a habit of her it seemed.

“We send undercover agents.” Tony answered. “The agents being you.” He gestured to the whole room. “Or half of you, the ones suited for the job.” He added.

“Great.” Clint grunted.

“Natasha and Clint, you’re assigned to Las Vegas, Nevada - don’t look at me like that. Fury’s orders.” Tony pointed at the annoyed may sat next to Natasha. All he wanted was some time to play golf, and he was always called in for a new mission. He couldn’t even hear properly anymore.

“Steve and Sharon, you lovebirds are going to Denver, Colorado.” He went on, reading the pair of agents from his phone. “Yelena and Kate, have fun in Lawrence, Kansas.“

“And then… oh. Emma and James, you’re going to Lincoln, Nebraska.” Tony put his phone down. “Sam is momentarily busy in California where they found the body, so for now this is everything. You guys will find other agents there, you’ll meet them once you arrive.”

“Why these cities?” Bucky asked, clenching his jaw. This was the first mission where he was paired up with you, and he didn’t like it one bit. But knowing Fury, there was nothing he could do to change it.

“Because that’s where SHIELD suspects Hydra’s activity. There are some bodies that have been found specifically in these places, they’re unrecognizable and have been there for longer than poor Taylor. They believe they have undercover agents there, so that’s who you have to find.” Tony answered, chewing some cashews he kept in his pockets. For some reason.

“When do we have to leave?” Yelena asked, snatching some cashews from Tony’s hands.

He glared at her before answering. “You’re needed there Monday morning already, I fear. You have today and tomorrow to pack your things and get out of my sight.” He got up from his chair. “Have fun, fellas.”

“Wait a second, what about me?” Wanda asked as Tony was about to leave the room.

“You’re the backup plan, Granger.” Tony chuckled at his own nickname for Wanda. “So are we. They find them, we step in to take them down. Plus I need someone to punch Loki in the face in case he tries something, you’re the only one strong enough to do it.”

“Hey!” Thor sounded offended. “Not the only one!”

“This place is awful.” Loki mumbled.

“Then leave.” Clint scoffed.

“You’re dismissed, children.” Tony walked out. “Try not to stab each other.”

“And boring too.” Loki added.

* * * *

“You’re supposed to fold your clothes before putting them into the bag.” Bucky’s voice remarked dryly, taking your attention away from your bag.

He was leaning against the doorframe of your room, looking at you sternly. As always.

“Thanks for the tip, Barnes.” You retorted, messily throwing a pair of pants inside the bag. You weren’t really having it, ever since you learned that Hydra was kidnapping people to do to them what they did to you. Except that those people had a life before. “What do you want?”

He walked into your room without even asking for permission and tossed a stack of paper on your bed. “The details of this mission and our fake identities, wifey.” He sounded quite calm but you could see he was pissed about it, he always was when it came to you. “Thought you may want to take a look.”

“Uh?” You frowned at the unusual nickname, picking up the papers and reading as fast as you could, until your eyes landed on the role you had to play.

His wife.

What a joke.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, as you felt his burning eyes on you. It’s nothing you haven’t done before with Sam or even Pietro, but pretending to love him and be all affectionate with him in public when this was the longest conversation you’ve ever had? That was gonna be interesting, to say the least.

He nodded and turn around to walk out, but before he actually left he couldn’t bite his tongue any longer. “One wrong move is all I need, Dayne.” He said, and that sounded like a threat.

Your eyes narrowed, a mixture of frustration and anger bubbling within you. “If I wanted to screw you guys over I would have done it already. It’s been a year, Sergeant, I believe you could trust me by now. Or at least start to.”

“Trust is earned, not given.” He replied, his tone leaving no room for arguments. “And you haven’t earned mine.”

“I’ll fucking live with it.”

“Have a good night.” He said without meaning it in the slightest, before leaving you to yourself once again.

“Go fuck yourself.”

Bucky Barnes was your personal headache.

#bucky x reader #bucky bar ws #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x oc #marvel #mcu #winter soldier #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #jbb #jbbarnes #avenger female reader #the avengers

[telekinetic-electronica]

bendy, "ink demon", and trauma responses

I've recently got back into Bendy. (tbh this shit is never gonna be going away this has been my special interest for 7 years FDKJNDSJKFD) and I did some thinking on him again. It's crazy to me on how... dehumanized Bendy was. While, yes, he's not an actual human, but he's still, y'know a person. He has feelings, he's conscious. He just doesn't have a soul. Which brings me to this post. The Ink Demon has never been called by Bendy. Which, you're all like "well, duh. That's his ink form. His other form is his toon form, just to tell which forms apart." I know that's possible the case. But I do wanna look into this attitude a bit more. When Bendy was first created, Joey literally called Bendy a THING, and for him to lock him away because he wasn't what he wanted. His literal crime was looking scary. So, Thomas Connor and Gent by the request of Joey, locked Bendy away for... God knows how long. Tbh, it's never clear on how Bendy ever acts, but Bendy was probably scared out of his mind. Can you imagine you're finally made and some people are talking. You have no idea what's going on, but this Joey dude says that you're wrong. You came out wrong. You are a mistake. You're suppose to be loveable, silent, and small. But you're not that. You're tall, empowering, posing, and not even a real chance to prove you're not as scary as you look. You aren't even called by your name, nor the title you would gain via your infamy. You are a thing. You are not someone who has emotions or needs, a thing. You are a monster. Now, you're locked away, probably terrified, and calling for help but people around you are too scared of you to help or don't wanna face the wrath of this Joey Drew.

I think Alice said this best back in Chapter 4 of the original game. At the studio, you were in someone's pocket, or someone was in yours. The studio was a disaster pit. Even if not everything happened was "real" or w/e, Joey was still a dickhead to everyone around him. Bendy was no exception. I think Bendy probably learned the best way to survive the studio, and the harsh reality around him was to manipulate. Bendy is a pretty good manipulator, he can get into someone's head, mess with them, and still taunt them. No one is born or created evil. That's a learned method.

In extreme cases of trauma, many people are in survival mode and thinking about themselves to survive, and how they can get by. This is because their safety, wants, and needs weren't being met. Not to mention, Joey and Gent just threw Bendy into the cartoon world, probably to just lock him away forever. Joey locked Bendy up for God knows how long, and now he's in this like- cartoon world version of the studio. He goes from nothing to everything in one fell swoop. This just made Bendy retreat more into himself. It just made his coping mechanism of always having to be on top, always being in control, the one everyone needs to fear. Because, fuck it.

If he's so horrible, if he's so monstrous, if he's so terrible, than he'll just become it. Minus when Bendy meets Audrey in his toon form, Bendy doesn't have anyone. Bendy has never been shown any warmth, kindness, or love in his entire life. The only thing he does know is pain, suffering, coldness, been abandoned, and been made out to be a monster. Which brings me to this - no one has every called the Ink Demon by his real name.

Even when he's technically no longer being locked away, and ruling the cartoon studio, he's still been dehumanized. Or never seen as a fellow victim of the machine and Joey. Everyone has said to BEWARE the Ink Demon, look out for him, and watch your back. The one rule down there was always beware the Ink Demon. Hell, Bendy calls himself the Ink Demon. Bendy has just embraced the title of being seen as this almighty, opposing figure. People either blindly worshipped him or feared him. They never saw him as someone who was unjustly hurt. Unjustly locked away and abandoned. Unjustly painted as a monster because he didn't turn out the way Joey wanted him to be.

You know who has called Bendy by his name? Someone, for the first time, called him by his real name and not some title?

Audrey.

Audrey is the first person to show Bendy any kindness or warmth. While, yes, it was in his toon form. He actually gets treated like a person. Someone who has emotions, and even APOLOGIZED when she, on accident, hurt him. And Hell, dude accepts it! I really hope, going forward, as a way for Bendy to heal when he's in his Ink Demon form, Audrey shows him the same compassion and kindness in that form of his. But she also calls him by his name. Bendy. Not to mention...

The cycles are interesting to me. It could possibly just being a plot thing. But it could be seen as a continuing of generational trauma and toxicity, and Audrey is the one who stops it. Joey clearly has some shit going on. He hates not being in control and wants to be in control of how other people perceive him. So, he turns out destructive towards everyone. Which is... eerily similar to how Bendy treats his own trauma. Bendy and Joey were physically and emotionally destructive to the people around them. It's also kind of sad because Bendy thinks he's in control of the studio. Dude says it's his domain, when Joey was still in control all along.

Bendy is continuing that toxic cycle. Then Wilson comes along and projects his own trauma, and issues. While the cycle stopped, Wilson didn't make it any better, and probably made the cycle for everyone in the studio just worse. By Audrey having the book now, she's putting a stop to the generational trauma via helping out everyone still trapped and helping Bendy out. That's why I've been calling Ink Demon, Bendy.

Because that's his name, after all.

ADD ON-; I just wanna say that Bendy was HARDCORE self projecting on Audrey near the end. I also wanna touch on Bendy and suffering. Bendy was so miserable, and had nobody he just gave into his own suffering, and became the Ink Demon. If he has to suffer, he's going to make everyone else in the studio suffer. He only found any purpose was in harming others. Also, obvious disclaimer this doesn't justify what he does to the people he has hurt. It explains it, doesn't justify it.

It's just downright depressing that he thinks he had no purpose, his existence was a lie, thought of himself as a mistake, and monster. To be frank, I wouldn't be surprised if Joey called Bendy a monster or a mistake. He did call Bendy a THING after all. I really hope Bendy does get to heal and realize his purpose doesn't need to be him suffering and he can have SOME peace.

#i prolly thought too deeply into this but idc #batdr #batim #bendy #bendy audrey drew #bendy ink demon #toon bendy #bendy joey drew #bendy wilson arch #bendy and the dark revival ink demon #bendy and the dark revival joey drew #bendy and the dark revival audrey drew #bendy and the dark revival wilson #bendy analysis #abuse tw #batdr analysis #toon bendy analysis

[matchbet-allofthetime]

Can I ask if you have any Boone headcanons? I’m a little bit obsessed with the strong, silent, devoted-to-my-love sniper and there will never be enough content about him for me haha

This ask is wonderful and I thank you for it by smooching you on your forehead 😻

Also, I am so sorry for my ramblings about him, I've loved him since the game released + love all interpretations of him, so I smushed all my favourites I've seen/developed over the years into one (sfw) post.

(I also might've been a little high as I wrote these out, so sorry if I repeat anything or it's misspelled.)

Anyways, enjoy below the cut!

Boone HCs:

-around 6'-6'5" (shorter than Arcade, who I hc as 6'9"); frankly think he's 6'0" solid but built like a brick house

-Bulky, built with wide hips and wider shoulders

-he has ass. I don't make the rules, you can SEE that ass in-game just like you can his meaty tits. I speak more on tits later.

-Soft stomach (the type that you can lay on and spills over his pants some when he bends over or sits down)

-brunette with thick hair, but just shaves it all down.

-INTENSELY bisexual (preference for men, likely just because he was around more men than women in the NCR. But if he likes you in any capacity, you're fair game to him regardless of what you've got)

-very, very tanned. He's not a very pale man and wasn't ever really pale

-GREEN EYES BAYBEE!! Vibrant green, actually has central heterochromia. Green with brown around his pupils ✨

-dimples. He has dimples. Fight me.

-i have this HC that all wasteland-born folks have sharper teeth- he absolutely does. He opens his mouth and he's got four sharp canines and six additional incisors that are shorter but equally able to tear through gecko and brahmin meat

-can and will use that 7 strength stat, and also that matching 7 agility

-this mf is FAST and can sprint like hell

-big hands and arms and thighs- this man doesn't have visible abs, but he's got SO much strength under his softness

-his pecs are soft and heavy. Give that dilf the tits he deserves.

-ABSOLUTELY the strong, devoted silent type

-however, that doesn't mean he isn't playful. He can totally be a snipe, sassy, snarky man, as well as a tease.

-he'll side eye someone he cares about after he's opened up and teased just to see their expressions when he quips when they aren't expecting it.

-him and Arcade get along well, and Arcade talks with him about the world enough to convince Boone that the NCR is better as a military which serves the people, rather than a major power to run the Mojave.

-boone comes to agree easily, but only once they've known each other for a few years

-thinks Arcade is beyond genius, and the two sassy men mutually snark at others when well-deserved

-is more inclined to take off his beret in the Lucky 38 around the other companions, but still is particular about when and where. He likes it and will always stay on him when out and about

-but if the Courier takes it off of him, once they've been through a lot together in the first year or so, he'll let them do it. he knows and trusts that they'll take care of it

-considers it an extension of himself, much the way he considers his rifle and extension of himself, so it's very intimate in its own way

-achingly fond of sweet cakes

-wears sunglasses because his green eyes used to freak people out. They are incredibly sharp- and quick- and can catch movement across miles of desert sand.

-couple that with his agility and happy trigger finger, he makes one of the finest snipers in the wastes

-doesn't sleep well for the first little while after meeting the courier and their companions- keeps thinking he'll wake up to something happening

-does finally manage to relax though, and starts sleeping better than he has in years most nights

-his dog tags ever come off. Can and will stab a bitch for trying to touch them

-very good with combat knives and straight-up punching someone, but forever prefers using his rifle and being a ranged shooter.

-talked more at one time to the courier after defeating Caesar and taking down the camp than he ever had before

-actually fond of having Ed-E around during their missions

-lots of body hair, the shorter hair this mf has is on his head. Prefers his hair short mostly because of being NCR; it just gets in the way of his beret

-polishes and cleans his gun NIGHTLY. If he doesn't have the right wax for the barrel, he will go out and either trade for some or will slaughter for some. He doesn't care which he has to do, so keep it around. A small tin goes a long while, but make sure to keep it closed ✨

-wears a .50 caliber shell around his neck with his tags on the same chain- it's an old soldier's way of remembering their mortality as well as those lost, and he can move entirely silently so the metal doesn't click together as he walks or runs

-comes to find that he loves heavy military rifles

-give him a power fist or brass knuckles. I beg you. This man will fuck someone up at long and close range.

-could kill you with his arms AND thighs.

-sits with his thighs spread apart because he hates when they touch- texture nightmare for him

-can straight up rotate his irises around his pupils. Can ALSO retract and swell his pupils to make them larger and smaller at will- helps in the desert sun to keep his eyes from taking in too much light, but it also makes his eyes focus different, which can be useful

-hates alcohol, but will drink to forget

-started smoking cigarettes because the smell made him physically ill as a child- it was the only way for him to stop being sick. Now it's a bad habit he can't kick

-mostly it's because it's such a long-standing habit, but also he's got the 'tism and an oral fixation which requires him to have smthn in his mouth at all times. Will hold anything between his lips- an unlit cigarette, a toothpick, a bullet shell, the rare wasteland lollipop lmao

-this guy is big enough he can palm a milk jug like it's a can.

-prefere combat boots to anything else, especially steel toe combat boots.

-hates round laces, they've gotta be flat or he loses his shit and seethes internally.

-has tattoos. I don't make the gd rules, he's a military boy- he has ink. You just can't SEE any of it because it's under his shirt/pants.

-would actually have wanted an eyebrow piercing or the like pre-war and I will die and kill on this hill. He wouldn't have many piercings, but he would have a few, I feel. I think he'd get both eyebrows so it'd be even, maybe his nipples, and another secret one 👀

-doesnt like people much, very much a silent, brooding type. Doesn't open up for a LONG time, but when he does, he's warm

-affectionate as hell, but only once he's gotten to the warming-up point

-he more he opens up, the more snark he sends outward toward those he doesn't give a damn about. Will open his fat mouth and those brooding inside thoughts quickly become outside thoughts. Knows when to stay quiet as always, though.

-big spoon or little spoon, he doesn't care. Careful though, he runs VERY hot and will tuck a hand against your stomach to KEEP you against him, even in sleep

-likes tucking his face into someone's throat and WILL wake a lover to kisses on the shoulder and neck

-likes kisses and likes holding hands whenever able.

-hand will always be on lower back. If you're standing on something, he'll have his hand there in case. If you're sleepy and stumbling into the Lucky 38's kitchen, his hand is there to make sure you stay upright as he guides you along. If you're dealing with folks who are shady or make you uncomfortable or make Boone uneasy, his hand is right there to soothe you both.

-only puts his hand on the lower back of two people- the courier and Arcade. I take no criticisms.

-can kill for those he loves. WILL kill for those he loves.

-when cuddling with him, tuck your hand over his heart or around his dog tags and he'll melt in your hands. It's very important to him to silently be with someone, and he's hopelessly devoted to the few people he cares about.

#craig boone #fallout #fallout new vegas #fnv #boone fallout #boone fnv #asks #i have many many n/sfw ideas too but ykyk you didnt ask for that so. enjoy!

[tardis--dreams]

Obsessed with yohan and gaon's relationship. Like. Gaon is suspicious of yohan. He shields him from an explosion. Yohan takes him home and tends to his wounds. Gaon lives there now. They fight. Gaon prepares family meals. Yohan experiences domestic bliss for the first time in his life. Yohan slams gaon against any hard surface available. They have a family game night. They are ready to kill each other. Gaon still lives there. He has abandoned his plants for yohan. They are willing to die for each other. They fight. Gaon moves out. He prepares a meal for yohan before leaving. He moves back in. Gaon stabs yohan. Yohan fakes his death. Gaon decides to die. Yohan turns off the bomb last second in the most homoerotic and tender manner imaginable-

#'you are trying to turn this world into hell' #-'the world i was born in has always been hell' #they just throw quotes like this at unsuspecting viewers and you just expect me to be Normal about this show?! #3rd rewatch is nearing the end #and i already miss them #the devil judge #shut up amy #*screaming into the void*

[irregularbillcipher]

someday i'm gonna write something about how futurama is such a rich series from a "literally all three protagonists are disabled in some way and parts of this show are such a disability power fantasy" perspective

#like fry is a canonically audhd character played by an audhd actor who has synthesesia and dexterity issues #and has survived five heart attacks #and whose 'brain thing' (aka his neurodivergency) is the literal key to saving the world on multiple occasions #like god. the most important person in the universe is and always ill be this disabled guy with a good heart #(morally i mean. like i said five heart attacks) #and then leela is a physically disabled woman who was been defined her whole life by her facial defect #who learns that her whole family is actually disabled (mutated) and starts fighting like HELL for them #and whose life was turned upside down because her society was treating her and those with her birth defects like scum #to the point her parents had to give her up and try to pass her off as an alien instead of a disabled human just to make sure she had right #AND she has some severe anger issues and a whole boatload of mental illnesses #and some incredibly clear trauma from the ableism she's faced #but she's still incredibly loved and desired and competent! #and then there's bender who has a whole section of his wiki dedicated to the bugs and glitches he has #who was born without a backup drive which to robots is absolutely a disability #who has a faulty inhibition chip #also he unusual empathy emotions and thought processes from both a human and robot perspective #like he doesn't experience empathy in the same way humans do but he also has free will unlike literally every other robot #and has moments where he's clearly feeling things in a way a lot of other robots in the series don't #(sometimes played for laughs like the 'as a robot i don't have emotions and that makes me very sad' line) #but also often taken seriously #not to mention the whole point of lethal inspection where bender finds out he has a factory defect #and wants to find and yell at the guy who approved him even though he was mortal-- a defect by robot standards

[lightgaswaterelectricityrent]

my love for my personal aesthetic of "english aristocrat's second wife core" is not diminishing any time soon

#sometimes it's wearing a lot of gold jewelry all at once #sometimes it's going out looking like you just got done feeding the chickens #always it's about wearing stuff that has been beat to hell but knowing what you're doing #like he married me because I don't care about the world he was born into! I appreciate the earth although I do clean up nice! #is this getting through to you people

[dcxdpdabbles]

I love every fic That has Danny still being Phantom even while in the DC universe but sometimes I just want my little guy to flex his intellect and be all around little mad scientist that only sometimes uses his powers to pick up a screwdriver

Danny is smart.

He knows he is brilliant.

He may have been outshined by his family when he was younger, but that was because his focus was on something else, and frankly, being born last into a family of geniuses made one feel like one wasn't as intelligent as them.

He constantly compared himself to them, knowing that they had already achieved what he was doing and falling further and further behind in his self-wellow.

Then Danny left Amity Park and went into the real world.....he found his intelligence got him far. Danny was exceptionally brilliant when he was working on machinery, chemistry, and, above all else, engineering.

Maybe it had something to do with watching his parents repurpose any household item into a completely new technology that affected beings from different dimensions simply because they used math.

Or maybe it was that his brain was always moving, always connecting, and constantly processing. Danny didn't realize that people couldn't just make whatever idea came into their heads a reality.

Hell, his dad heard about Mr. Freeze's ray and he made a copy in two months. Danny made Mr. Freeze's ray in two weeks. He made other ghost tech in that same amount or enough to arm his schoolmates in one afternoon.

The point is that Danny is good at what he does. Put a screwdriver in huis hand, and he be off until whatever hair brain idea he had a physical form.

Everyone in Amity Park knew this as a fact about the Fentons/ Since they moved in, there was nothing but experiments one right after the other. Sure, they wasted it on things like Ecto-studies, but his parents made their money from somewhere before the world learned about ghosts.

Danny's parents had many, and he means many, patents. Everything from a brand of microwaves to vehicle parts.

His parents created them, sold them to partial rights to companies, and then wasted whatever money they got on some new experiment for a ghost that had not yielded any fortunes.

He thought he could do the same. Just apply to anywhere that would take him after creating a portable phone changer on one's wrist. He figured it would have gotten less attention than he did hadn't he just shown up at Wayne Expo as an unknown inventor through his parents contacts.

Danny had felt relatively small with his foldable plastic table and his four cardboard boxes of his invention while everyone had booths and screens, and a few even had prominent speakers with people in suits that cost more than his house

. Danny felt like a little kid trying to sell lemonade in the five-star hotel lobby. Everyone walked right by him without a glance, or they jeered and mocked him.

That was until Bruce Wayne wandered over. Kind and charming the man, maybe he wasn't the brightest- but he stood there listening to Danny excitedly explain how moving the hand on the bracelet caused it to charge, so walking around with it was all the kinetic energy it needed.

His ward- Dick Grayson, in all his tiny ten-year-old authority, had purchased a bracelet from Danny. It had been the only sale he made that night, but it was the only one he needed. Bruce had called him to offer him a position at WE.

Like his parents, Danny enjoyed his freedom, so instead, he offered to be a freelance inventor. He would show the Wayne's first dibs but go where the wind took him. He made them if he found buyers who weren't trying to ice him out of profits.

Unlike his parents, he didn't waste the funds past his travels. Slowly but surely building up a fortune over time.

Danny still went out as Phantom, but over the years he invented random gadgets and chemicals that he would ship to Bruce for a healthy paycheck. Ussually he makes something that the rich man off-handedly comments on.

"Oh Danny, I just loved skydiving, but I'm scared Dick's parachute will get stuck."

Danny invented one with small rocket blasters Bruce could manually control into landing for his son.

"I always enjoy undersea diving. The tanks are a killer on my back. Jason was almost weighted down by them too."

Danny created a breathing mask that had the tanks in smaller easier-to-carry cylinders.

"Tim really loves his computers. Wish I could take the whole thing with me when I go out!"

Danny had a working computer on a heliographic wristwatch the next month.

It was awesome. Danny traveled a lot but always found time to call and speak with Bruce. He got to know the man well over the years, found himself chatting with him for hours, and even spent his visits to Gotham at Wayne Manor as a guest.

Bruce's kids were a riot to be around. He would often go away for a while only to return and find that they had grown in numbers. He loved them like his own and found himself a confidant among the children.

It was he that Dick called to whispers about his insecurity within Bruce's home. He would go to all the gymnastics and mathletes shows he could catch, cheering the loudest among the rich parents as Dick outshone the rest of the children.

Danny had practically flown home to rip Bruce a new one until the man admitted to his gapping son that he had applied to be his father mere months after taking him in.

It was Danny that Jason spoke to when Dick and Bruce's fights were too loud. He would take the boy on trips, and talk for hours about books to calm down, then he had sat Bruce and Dick down to rip another new one.

It was no surprise that Jason had called him when he had tried to run away to confront his birth mother. He had been there to see the bitch arrested before she could hurt Jason.

It was Danny that Tim often sought out to showcase his photos. He always made sure to call the boy right before he was meant to sleep, regardless of which part of the world Danny was on, to wish him goodnight and talk about their days.

Tim always brightened whenever Danny caught his skateboard competitions or club performances. He was the one who found out Tim's biological parents neglected him after the boy told him, and he was the one to help Bruce win custody.

Then came Damian, who was as scared as he was angry. Danny adored him and saw so many ghost-like mannerisms in him that connecting to the boy wasn't hard at all.

Bruce didn't seem to understand that his son was used to outlined expectations and grew irritable when he felt he failed them. He was the one that help Damian get used to his environment and was the one the boy was much more willing to try new things with.

Steph and Danny often got along well with their sense of humor, but mostly she followed him around, seeking approval that likely missed out from her parents. They would sit down and talk about her future and what she wanted in life, and he even let her practice her makeup on him and giggle about boys.

Sometimes, it felt like she didn't have to be the tough girl from the rough part of town. She could be a teenage girl without a care in the world. At least, that's what she claimed Danny made her feel like.

Cass didn't talk much, but she didn't have to for Danny to not see how much she enjoyed their days out, too.

He loved taking her to see the arts, to sit and listen to music together, and most of all, to see her slowly bloom into a sociable young lady so different from the closed-off girl that first arrived at Wayne Manor.

Duke was still relatively new, but Danny could spot the wild, unhinged look in his eye that would have made him a proper Fenton. The two often spent their time playing video games and working in the community together.

Duke seemed to enjoy when Danny invited him to tag along on short trips, especially when the two would go camping. As someone who grew up in the city, he had never been fishing until Danny taught him how to reel in a big one at a lake a state over. The whole Wayne family had cheered the dark skin boy on as he held the trout over his head for the photo.

Alfred treated him like one of the family sometimes meeting up with Danny on his travels for a cup of tea or a nice phone call to gossip about Bruce.

Danny loved it but adored when the Waynes would help with his inventions. Even if all they did was sit in his makeshift lab inside his RV or the west wing of Wayne Manor like Bruce did, having them made his hands fly faster and his calculations sharper.

Sometimes, he caught the strangest, softest look on Bruce's face when Danny would be wielding.

Danny was so used to this lifestyle that he would forget about his ghost powers. It's not like he really needed them.

That came to head when he returned to Gotham on a whim, wanting to surprise Bruce for his birthday by taking the other man out to dinner somewhere fancy he happened to stumble across the scene of Scarecrow holding the Waynes- his Waynes- as hostages at an award ceremony in the new mental hospital they had funded.

Danny hadn't thought.

He saw the Fear Gas vents open and pulled one of his gadgets. He threw it as hard as he could at Scarecrow, watching with satisfaction as it bounced off the manic's head- knocking him out and spinning in place as it activated.

It was a miniature vacuum- meant to gather pollution in the air to hopefully clean up their planet- sucking in all the green smoke before it could harm.

He three out of the other five at the goons that had tried to gas the spectators before, pressing his anti-gravity plates- reversing them to slam the goons into a heap and officially knocking them out.

Danny took down the Rouge in under a minute.

"Bruce! Kids! Are you alright?" He cried rushing the stage to the stunned family. He helped them out of their bonds, gentelly tracing the bruise on Bruce's face with a soft whine. "They hurt you."

"I'm alright, darling," Bruce muttered, leaning into his palm. "I'm better with you here. What was that?"

"Oh just a-"

"Look out!" Dick suddenly screams as a flash of ice comes from nowhere. Danny tucks Bruce onto his chest and rolls away from the ray's pathway. They land with his friend on his back and Danny leaning over him in a protective hunch.

Quickly, he stops his foot against the ice, pressing the heel back and watching bursts of electricity from his built-in tazer race up the ice to the beam of Dr. Freeze.

The man doesn't have time to react before spamming and hitting the ground. Danny scoffs. "Using a ray with a cryogenic laser beam so last season. Invent something new, you one act poney."

Bruce stares up at him with those soft eyes again, and Danny smiles now that he is sure the Danger is gone.

"Is there nothing that mind of yours can't do?" Bruce asks and Danny laughs helping him to his feet as police swarm the place.

"Find me a date, maybe." Danny jokes, "I haven't had one since you took in Dick.""

"Neither has Father!" Damian shouts from behind them. Danny bemussingly watches the young boy march up to gesture at the mortified-looking man.

Despite his father's obvious embarrassment, Damian does not seem bothered to shout for everyone to hear. "He may swing both ways but hasn't acquired a suitable spouse. What says you, Danny? You could assist in correcting this error."

"Sure, I'll take him out." Danny laughs, patting the boy on his shoulder, knowing he hates to have his hair touched. Damian all but melts into his hand like his father seemingly smug. "I know a great club to meet some great people in Metropolis!"

Damian's smug look fades away as Bruce's eyes fall. "I meant for you to be Father's sp-"

"Danny, would you mind explaining those tazer shoes?" Bruce cuts in, throwing a arm over the inventor's shoulder. "They were dazzling!"

"Oh, Bruce, I'm always happy to explain my creations!"

Damian pouts as the two walk away, acting like a married couple to the scattered spectators. If only his Father would just man up and tell Danny that he's practically been his second Father all these years, they need to officiate it.

Tim sighs, placing a hand like Danny did on his shoulder. "It's okay, Dami. This time, we will surely succeed in the Parent Trap plan. Maybe before Danny gets lost in the lab trying to invent a way to warp travel."

"Don't even joke, Tim," Jason says. "Danny would figure that out. He created the Zeta Beams to make it to my senior play. He'll figure out warping if we ask him to."

"Dad's the best," Steph laughs, and they all agree, determined more than ever to make Parent Trap happen.

Master Post Link

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Freelance Inventor #Danny is so smart he casually revolutionizes tech #He's not aware of the Bats #He's still somehow their Dad #And Bruce is in love with him' #The bat kids are going to Parent Trap them #spirit halloween

[inkskinned]

there are days that it is hard, and unfair, and some horrible part of me wishes i could have been born in a different world. i love being queer, i hate how others react to it. when i first came out at 15, my mom whispered: please don't say that. your life would be so much harder.

it is harder.

it is also a tuesday, walking my dog. we are both skiving off of work, and yes both of us have dyed hair and pronouns. mine is patchy - it was my first time trying bleach; i didn't have enough. theirs is a resilient toadstool green. a little girl comes up to us and asks um, excuse me? is your hair real? 'cause jason says you're a fairy.

it is sunday brunch, all of us talking over each other, overfull on love. she is trying out a new name today, and we made her a cake with today's name scrawled in shaky purple letters. she laughs so much she cries and then gets frosting in her hair. someone young at a different table keeps giving us these large, wide eyes: the same look we have all been on the other side of. the kind that says, breathless: wait, is that possible?

it is a half-fight in a supermarket because he loves "dance moms" and says abby's tiktok is funny and meanwhile i think the children in that show should be allowed to sue abby lee miller for child abuse. i tell him that it led to the casual acceptance of child harassment for mainly adult views; and then i am standing, suddenly, in someone else's thrown soda. there's a white lady standing there, furious, saying something about hell-on-earth. i had forgotten i was wearing stuff with pride colors. and then it is this: he had just been casually arguing with me - and within an instant, he squares his shoulders and goes after her like i am his sister

on saturday i sat in a circle while beca played with my hair and we were all over 30 and we laughed about how much happier we are being this old, how much more we appreciate our community. 25 minutes from now, we will be on stage to dance in baggy beige clothing, but for now we look on with envy to the dancers in loud-and-bright buttondowns. where are they getting these shirts! i cry, distraught. everyone laughs. one of our friends has a mushroom witch hat. this would have been cringey in high school, probably. instead we are all delighted with each other; happy just to be here and alive and moving

it's that last week my new friends cried with joy for me when they heard i'm getting top surgery. every so often i have the honor of being the first person someone feels comfortable enough to tell. i'm trying to make long fluttery butterfly wings to wear to pride; but i don't know anything about fabric or dye, so my friends have been sending me their personal advice.

i think in a different poem i would talk about how sometimes you walk into a room and put the mask back on. but i'm sleepy and my whole brain is fuzzy so i think in this one, it's a monday, and my dog and i took a nap on a couch, and i had missed texts from friends. i used to wake up lonely. i think this poem is about walking into a room and seeing someone and just knowing, the way you just-know-sometimes, and then giving them that little smile, and seeing them light up with joy and relief. it is how we always seem to be able to find each other in a crowded room. how we always seem to make friends with each other before even we know-it-to-be-true. it is saying: we're very different people; but i belong to you.

it is harder, yes. but it comes with a built-in family.

#wish this was better written!!! but im sleepy!! #writeblr #pride #lgbt #but for real please help me make these lesbian wings. gonna get the supplies tomorrow . i have #no sewing machine but know how to hand sew #have never done a good job with tie dye so idk why im just runnin with it #ps im specifically going to boston pride next weekend come hang out with me

[chrisevansonly]

Playing With Fire

Max Verstappen x Female Reader

summary: you and stella are max’s world, and he’d be damned if he let his father speak ill of either of you.

warnings: angst, jos (ew), angry max, slight mentions of crying, fluff at end

a/n: this is a re-upload to see if it shows up in the tags 🥲

When Stella was born, it was one of the best days ever for Max, seeing his baby girl come into the world, and the way she practically latched onto him from the minute she was welcomed into the family. He knew right then and there he would be the absolute best father to his daughter, just as he was the best husband to you, and always had been.

If there was one thing Max nor you completely enjoyed it was family events when everyone got together, including Jos. Max’s father.Max and his father have a complicated relationship, in a way they seem close but there’s always that edge to his dad that keeps all of you on the edge of your seat. You in particular seemed to still be an issue to him, and every once in a while, you’d become the punching bag at the dinner table.

Stella was sleeping in your arms as you sat next to Max at the dinner table, Jos across from you both and his mother on the other end with the rest of his family and some friends that had joined for the monthly get together.

“So when is the next Verstappen coming?” His father asked looking at you. Stella was only 6 months old so you and Max were happy to just enjoy the time you have with her now, not even thinking about another baby.

“Oh, well i’m sure someday we’ll have another…”

“We’re in no rush” Max butted in, assuming it would stop his father’s line of questioning.

“Yes well, it’s just you had a baby girl…there has to be a boy in the equation…”

You furrowed your brows, fixing Stella’s blanket as she continued to sleep, oblivious to the rising tensions in the room.

“I don’t think so? There’s nothing wrong with having girls..”

“Who’s supposed to carry on the name?”

Max sat up straighter, his hand squeezing your knee gently

“Stella will just as our next baby will eventually, regardless of their gender.”

Jos shook his head taking a sip of his water as he sighed, before looking back at you.

“All i’m saying is you should be trying for a boy.”

“Well it doesn’t work that way.”

The table was getting quieter as the father and son squared off, Jos not backing down and Max not about to let his father attack you in anyway. Not on his watch.

“I knew the second you had a daughter it would make you weak, let alone marrying her and having that baby! She’s useless if she can’t have a boy! You’re wasting your time Max, I knew from the second I met her it would ruin our family.”

Used to his harassment you didn’t cry, but it didn’t stop tears from welling up in your eyes as you almost deflated in a way, hugging Stella closer to your chest. The minute your eyes looked to Max, long gone was his soft stare and gentle smile, replaced was a look almost predatory as he looked to his father.

“Watch your fucking mouth when you’re talking about the mother of my child.”

“Max-”

“No, get out.”

“Excuse me?” Jos’s eyes widened and he shook his head

“GET THE HELL OUT!”

Max yelled, slamming his hands down on the table, seconds later Stella stirring before whimpering in your arms. The dutchman froze and looked apologetically at you as you excused yourself to go up to the nursery, only then turning back to look at his father.

“If you ever so much as think about speaking about my wife and daughter again, it’ll be me coming after you. Now get the fuck out.”

Jos didn’t even offer to say anything else, pushing back his chair and storming out, effectively cutting the dinner to an end as everyone left, Max’s mother sticking around to help clean up and of course comfort you afterwards. She had always been close to you and Max and in a way she was like a mother to you too.

“Baby?”

Turning at the sound of your husbands voice you smiled, still holding Stella in your arms, only this time she was much calmer, her eyes lighting up as she spots her dad.

“Hi, everything okay?”

“I should be asking you that…”

Shrugging you let him take Stella from you, his demeanour much more relaxed with his baby girl in his arms as he placed a few kisses to her cheeks.

“I know what your father is like, yes it hurts but I love you and you love me and that’s all that matters…we have a beautiful baby girl, and that man will never be able to change what we have.”

Max nods, bringing you into his side and leaning down to kiss you softly

“You’re right, he can’t. I’ll never let him ever disrespect you like that ever again. No matter what I have to do.”

“I know you won’t Maxie…and I love you very much for it, Stella too, huh baby?”

Stroking her cheek gently she babbled happily, leaning on Max’s shoulder, her hand patting his chest gently

“My girls…I love you both so much, i’ll always protect you both, with my everything.”

Nothing else needed to be said in the moment, all Max needed was his girls and he felt whole. Nothing else mattered because to him he had everything he’d ever wanted in his life. Despite what he went through growing up, Jos had never made his heart turn cold, he made it big enough to hold the love he had for you two, and would always hold, no matter what happened.

Besides, everyone knew messing with the Verstappen girls, was playing with fire.

#rueswrites #ruesanswers #ruesanons<3 #ruesasks #rueschats💗 #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x female reader #dad! max verstappen #dad max verstappen #max verstappen drabble #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen angst #formula 1 masterlist #formula 1 blurb #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #f1 drabble #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

[comicaurora]

So based on that last ask with King Arthur is he choosing to fall in love with Gwen even if she has a high chance of falling for Lancealot? If so, it's tragic. Doomed to love another that won't fully love you back.

Does Arthur even just tell Lancenalot to get the hell put of the kingdom some loops?

I think it's more like-

You become aware of your existence somewhere around the age of 3. You were born under mysterious circumstances you don't know the details of. The first time through, you were growing up in a castle. Lately you find you are growing up among peasantry.

Maybe you have brothers. Maybe you have a sister. Maybe you're an only child. Your family is distant either way. They speak welsh. They speak latin. They speak french. They speak english with american attempts at british accents.

The first few times through, there wasn't a sword. Now it's a consistent presence - a shimmering blade stuck in a plain anvil or a large boulder, haunting your hometown or a nearby forest glade. It looks different every time, feels different in your hands. It was made for you.

There are more trials every time. In the first stories the crown was yours from birth. Lately it's been further and further away, behind more tribulations and tournaments and beasts to slay. More guidance from the ageless old man you remember from the earliest days, the welsh days. He's different every time. Everything's different every time. And still nothing changes.

The crown is yours. It's inevitable. And when the crown passes into your hands, it carries the kingdom with it. It's yours now. And it's going to thrive! You hardly need to do anything. Heroes flock to you and pledge themselves as knights, then spend the decades tearing off on wild quests and adventures, getting into the kind of trouble that serendipitously always keeps the kingdom safe. The adventures feel familiar, but never quite play out the same way. Chalices, black knights, fairy women, questing beasts. You rarely see them for yourself. You're too important, after all. You're the kingdom's beating heart.

You have a queen. You don't spend much time with her. It's jarring how much she changes every time. You hate how much it surprises you the times she genuinely loves you; you never really get to enjoy it. The kingdom doesn't run itself, even if just having you around seems to make the forests grow thick and the rivers run clear. Mostly you spend time with her when you're rescuing her from abduction. You very rarely have children together. You miss them.

It didn't used to end in fire, but lately it never ends in anything but, and you never know when it's going to start. You're never home when it starts, but you spend so much time out tending the kingdom or questing anyway. But you always learn too late - treachery. Your knight, your vassal, your bastard child, your lady love. Camelot is burning. You watch your life's work precede you into the grave.

You die. You sleep under the mountain. You dream. It's quiet.

Somewhere in the world, a writer picks up a pen, and you become aware of existence somewhere around the age of 3.

#asks #not aurora

[targaryenluvs]

OUR LITTLE DOVE

pairings: dark!lucy gray x fem!reader, dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader, coriolanus snow x lucy gray

summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you. but it seems lucy gray is willing to share you with a certain peacekeeper, even if you aren’t.

warnings: crazy lucy n corio conspiring like evil doers, manipulation, chasing, primal play?? is that what is called idk corio enjoys hunting your ass down, kidnapping, drugging, forced into accepting a third partner?? nc touching, abuse of power (peacekeeper), power dynamics, kinda cheating (lucy n corio), guilt-trip, jealousy, threatening, self doubt and relationship problems, murder, betrayal

word count: 3.0k

a/n: lol i complain about wanting to write fluff but all my good ideas r so dark 😭 someone needs to give me tips on how to write girls cuz i have no experience would be easier if i was gay boooo!!

he was like a shadow, stuck to your back, always.

you’d complained to lucy numerous times that you didn’t feel comfortable around him when she played at the hob, knowing he’d be there, in the crowd. “sweetie, he was my mentor. he helped me so much in the games, i wouldn’t be here without him. you love me don’t you? so you need to learn to love him too, he’s a good friend a mine. i love you and i gotta get to the stage baby.” she explained as she ran around getting herself and the covey ready.

you were always front row. wanting to be as close to lucy as possible. she looked especially majestic tonight with flowers in her hair. as you listened to her sing you’d managed to forget about the certain blonde peacekeeper near the back. but he hadn’t forgotten about you, nor lucy.

you’d left to get a drink and you’d came back to an unfamiliar tune. you usually knew every song being played off by heart but this was new.

Everyone's born as clean as a whistle

As fresh as a daisy

And not a bit crazy

Staying that way's a hard row for hoeing

she sounded as angelic as usual and the crowd around you seemed entranced.

As rough as a briar

Like walking through fire

This world, it's dark

This world, it's scary

lucy smiled at you once, just once. which threw you off since you usually got a bunch. especially during new songs and songs about you. was this not also about you?

I've taken some hits, so

No wonder I'm wary It's why

I need you

so it is about me! you thought as you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to sway to the music and singing. you’d hoped you wouldn’t miss a smile headed your way.

You're as pure as the driven snow

your eyes flew open as you stared at lucy, she was looking past you and to the peacekeeper. to coriolanus snow. you’d always been a rational person, you prided yourself on restraint but that restraint was hanging on by a thread. you wanted to jam a beer bottle into his neck. lucy was your girlfriend not his. and yet he smiled stupidly towards her as she sang and you could feel your heart clawing its way up. best to leave now rather than stay and hear more of the ever so driven man.

your head was spinning as you slumped to the floor, in one of your finest dresses yet worst mental states. of course, something had formed between the two. she was in the goddamn hunger games and he was her mentor. trauma bonding? he quite literally saved her life, coached her and you did what? sat at home and hoped.

hope could only get you so far.

your hope and faith in lucy gray baird was dwindling as her lyrics swirled in your head. of course she loved him. who wouldn’t? the man was undeniably eye catching. a capitol man. but you’d always imagined lucy staying away from the capitol, despising them. but maybe it wasn’t the captiol part but the man part. maybe she wanted a true life, a home, marriage and children and everything she could wish for.

what on earth could you provide her with?

“y/n?” it sure as hell wasn’t lucy calling out for you and you knew that. coriolanus’s reflection was prominent in the puddle before you as he neared. great, you sneered, would love to get to know you mr peacekeeper. please tell me how you stole my lovely girlfriend from me!

your chest felt oh so heavy as you heard his footsteps in the gravel, determined and unwavering as he made his way to your slumped body. “what do you want? you wanna gloat?” coriolanus stopped in his tracks, gloat? “why would i gloat?” you looked up at him annoyed, “rub it in my face. you practically stole my girlfriend from me.” coriolanus laughed. actually laughed and it made you want to strangle him with his stupid dog tags.

“sweetheart.” vomit. you wanted to vomit. maybe choking and dying on your vomit would be less embarrassing then this. why on earth was this fuck head calling you his sweetheart. “fuck off.”

you didn’t see him coming. and you certainly didn’t expect his demeanour to snap. but the large hand tangled in your open hair was a big slap in the face to your unreadiness. “you of all people don’t get to talk to me like that. do you know who you’re talking to?” you could hear his perfect porcelain teeth grinding at your words. god this man couldn’t handle an insult. wuss.

“what the hell is your- ow! problem!” you yelped as he dragged you into an alleyway. “you need to learn how to respect your superiors. if you’re nice to me, i can make your life easier. doesn’t it hurt? not being able to fully provide for your family? seeing them struggle? do you really think disrespecting a peacekeeper is going to help? i suggest you straighten your act and thank me for even looking your way. there are plenty of other girls here.”

but he didn’t want those other girls. he wanted you. you with the teary eyes and messy hair. you who he’d been seeing in his dreams and during the day. you with the kind smile and curious eyes. you who were so sweet and pretty but mean when need be. the y/n who was stupid enough to spit such hateful words at a peacekeeper. but he’d teach you. whether it be with words and lessons or actions and bruises. you’d learn your place, by his side and lucy’s, and underneath. but with such fearful, brown doe eyes watering up infront of him, the girl he’d heard oh so much about from lucy. how could he refrain from indulging?

his hand reached out to wipe away the few stray tears that fell as his left extended towards your right, which was clutching your head, where he’d grabbed you. “shh, let me help you.” your hand slowly retracted as your heart ran a marathon. the man was obviously unstable, going from a deceptively caring man to violent. coriolanus smiled at your actions, and it freaked you out. he caressed your scalp in an attempt to soothe, “good girl.” he cooed as your apparent saviour approached.

“sweetie?” lucy called out to you as coriolanus withdrew from your personal space. he walked over to her and she let him. he held her hand and spoke with, love? his voice was soft and comforting, his thumb again caressing the back of her hand as they talked, whispered, plotted? god knows, all you wanted was to leave.

was this your chance?

you tested the waters, slow and calculated movements as lucy nodded in agreement with him. but by the time they were done speaking you’d bolted.

but you sure as hell weren’t getting far with these two on your tail, poor y/n l/n. a little dove trying to spread her wings but they were bound to be clipped.

your feet were throbbing and begging for you to slow down. but your brain was in charge for once, your heart which yearned for your dear songbird pushed to the side as your head screamed and urged you to go. she was in league with him apparently. her seeing him corner you and not even batting an eyelash. did she truly care for you so little? did she want to rid herself of you? she could’ve broken up with you and let that be it. maybe the games had twisted her head.

even as you believed yourself to be gaining distance from the two you could hear the not-so distant steps of determined pursuit, headed your way. how would they kill you? slow and intimate? hasty and brutal?

“if you stop running now we won’t be mad little dove!” lucy shouted in warning as you felt yourself momentarily slow at her words. traitor. you thought to yourself as your body involuntary listened, she still had an affect on you. “she’s right, we love you, we won’t hurt you. unless we have to, don’t give us our reasons.”

“shut up!” you screamed. god, i know we haven’t talked in a while. last minute efforts right? maybe he’d listen to you, save you from your tormentors. you should’ve kept your head clear, focused on running. focused on your surroundings and if you had, you would’ve noticed the nearing tree roots, thick and protruding from the ground, ready to knock you down.

you crawled behind the tree, trying to catch your breath as your hands worked tirelessly to provide some form of relief to your aching ankle.

crack.

you’d been found. you fucked up.

“our little dove, ever the sprinter.”

his words had you lurching forwards in an attempt of fleeing but lucy’s cold hand on your ankle dragged protests and cries from your throat as well as you, back to them. “you should’ve listened before, we would’ve been nice. given you some time to adjust, but you can’t sit and think for a second can you?” coriolanus mocked as his hand trailed up your un-injured leg, “that’s okay, you won’t be doing much thinking from now on. we’ll be taking care of you, since you obviously can’t take care a’ yourself baby.” lucy’s voice was saccharine, like honey, and her smile was even sweeter. the familiarity and comfort of her presence was intoxicating, you felt at peace on one side and the other wanted to jump off a cliff. she lowered your guard and coriolanus slithered right in.

the prick in the side of your neck wasn’t painful, but their words were. “you’re with us now, we’ll take care of you, we promise.” and you were stuck, stuck with them for god knows how long.

you blinked away the sleep in your eyes, adjusting to the room. maybe they had killed you? in their own twisted way they’d keep you forever, in their memories and soul. coriolanus and lucy’s voices swam around your head and blended together. you were wrong. yay.

“it’s a bit early for katniss, even if it’s one of her favourites.”

“she should eat something better.”

“better? don’t go all capitol on me now corio.”

he was smiling, you could tell.

“never lucy gray. but she’ll be weak for a few days, proper meals will help her regain some strength.”

you picked your head up and looked through the window, the lake was evident.

“alright, you go grab it and i’ll stay here.”

“why? so you can get more time with her? if anyone should get extra time it’s me.”

“now who was her partner first? oh that’s right, me. you’re acting as if i’m gonna pick her up and run away. if you’re that scared than we’ll both go. take her with us.”

coriolanus’s head whipped towards the cabin and you quickly flopped back down on the bed. you shut your eyes as you heard the door creak open. “gosh, doesn’t she look pretty?” lucy asked, knowing the answer already. “so calm, i liked her better when she was crying.” lucy hit him, “coriolanus snow!” he stroked the side of your face and you had to resist from turning your head and biting his fingers off.

“little dove.” your eyes opened again, turning your head his way tiredly. “we need to get some supplies okay?” you nodded as lucy went outside to gather the baskets she’d left out earlier on to dry. coriolanus’s hand dug into your cheeks as he forced you to look at him, “i told you i’d make you respect me. now listen, if you try anything when we’re in town i will never let you forget it. you’ll know who you belong to every single day. maybe i’ll pay your family a visit? an appointment with the hanging tree for being rebels? stealing?”

you shook your head violently as you began to cry, “you don’t want that? didn’t think so. you listen to me and everything will be fine. your family will get daily help and weekly groceries. they’ll never go hungry again. all thanks to their sweet little girl. lucy’s too nice, but don’t think for a second she’ll save you from me. you’re mine and if you try anything.” he leaned in to whisper, “i’ll strangle her with my bare hands infront of you.” his words were meant to scare you, and they did. but don’t you know? coriolanus snow doesn’t need a reason to do bad things.

coriolanus was wicked and ruthless when it came to what he wanted, if you had any hope of trying to get through this then you’d need lucy’s attention and help. so you nodded. “words sweetheart.” you swallowed your pride, your dignity, and you shook hands with the devil.

“yes, i’ll do what you say.” he straightened up, his white shirt a contrast to his dark thoughts.

“y’all ready to go?” lucy questioned as coriolanus grinned, “yes, yes we are.” he lifted you up and helped you dress, you hadn’t realised the fact that you were only dressed in his own white shirt, dress to you. he handled you like you were the most delicate object. as if he wasn’t hell bent on breaking you, over and over again. till you were fit to his standards. the captiol standards. the snow standards.

his, his, his.

with how obedient you were, he figured you’d do well in the capitol. which was exactly where he was meaning to bring you.

lucy walked in front of the two of you as you made your way through the woods. coriolanus’s hand was glued to your waist as he held you close, afraid to let go. you were at flight risk of course. his grip was tight and bruising. lucy’s humming distracted you at times, if you were delusional enough you could imagine it to be the two of you. your brothers far infront and the covey following. after an amazing afternoon at the lake, heading home for dinner, maybe a performance or the night shift.

your daydreaming was interrupted when you clocked coriolanus’s missing hand from your waist, and his arm now around lucy grays throat.

don’t you remember? you’d do well in the capitol! you were his! but not entirely, no.

not with her in the way.

you were frozen in place as lucy clawed at him before reaching out for you. a plea, a cry for help and aid yet you stood stuck in fear. a minute, two. she’d put up a strong fight, especially when you ran towards the two, pushing and shoving at coriolanus to let her go. but again, you fucked up.

here lies lucy gray baird, singer, victor, psycho.

obsessed? madly in love? you couldn’t think of another word, and as much as you wished to forget her, forget how she’d practically allowed another man into your relationship and let him kidnap you. her lifeless face and hollow eyes made your heart clench. but soon enough she was rolled over, thrown in a pre-made hole and buried. she’d survived the games but no one survived coriolanus snow.

“don’t forget what i said. don’t forget what you agreed to. you said you’d do as i say, i’m telling you to get up and follow me. we’re leaving district 12.” your face was painted with confusion as coriolanus clutched your face, “i’m going back, and you’re coming with me. don’t ask questions, just do as i say.”

and you did.

when he had you say goodbye to your family, a courtesy, a privilege he’d granted you. you kept it short and sweet, no questions just hugs and false promises of return.

when he ushered you onto the train and he wanted you to sit and be silent, you did.

through his time at the university, he wanted you close to him, living with him. and you did.

through his presidency campaign he wanted for you to charm sponsors and entice newcomers. you did.

when he wanted to marry you in a grand spectacle infront of the captiol and dress you up, you did as he asked.

when he held you down on your wedding night after tearing your dress off, biting and marking you down all over, pushing you down to your knees and took you all over the house, asking you to give yourself to him as if he didn’t take you anyways, you did.

you had no idea why at this point.

for your family? who hadn’t reached out in so long, even when they promised to talk to you every day? coriolanus had them all arrested, punished and hung for inciting riots and uprisings.

for your friends whom listened to your concerns of the capitol peacekeeper who hovered and didn’t make you feel crazy? each of them ended up dead in many different ways, hung, shot, a mugging gone wrong.

you didn’t know at this point and when you looked in the mirror you didn’t recognise the girl who stared back. a captiol sheep, dressed up in the finest silk dresses and slick heels yet the filth underneath the finery, jewels, and makeup weighed you down. each time he touched you, kissed you, fucked you, it felt like a peace of yourself was thrown away.

and as you clutched your swelling stomach, you couldn’t help but feel pity for baby number four.

maybe you’d grow up and find love.

maybe i’ll be able to take you all away from him.

maybe we’ll heal.

you thought, but in the back of your head, a little voice wouldn’t shut up.

you’ll always be his little dove.

#dark!coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader #lucy gray x coriolanus #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x reader #lucy gray x fem!reader #lucy gray x reader #lucy gray baird x reader #dark!lucy gray x reader #dark!lucy gray baird x reader #hunger games x reader

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I know we're all focused on Satyr/Faun König but that bull comment... I'm quite partial to minotaur's and whats better than a darling who isn't from the area. Oh yes she's innocent of the crimes against König because she was not raised there.

Some foreign little creature just running blind in a maze trying to see where there might be a way out. It's been days after all and the screaming has gotten quieter and she wonders if she's the last one left alive. He takes his time eating his meals... this can be stretched out for such a long time as she hides herself in a dead end just a short rest... the darling is so tired unaware of the horrifyingly silent steps moving closer to her little haven. It's just her left now.

@kit-williams I've wanted to write for Minotaur!König for ages!

Minotaur!König x Ariadne!Reader Word count: 5 k oneshot Tags/warnings: Sexual tension, threats of violence and rape, implied cannibalism, power imbalance, moral ambiguity. Predator/prey dynamic, Beauty and the Beast elements, Ancient Greek religion & lore. 18+ MDNI A/N: The Minotaur in this story is not an actual hybrid. Reader is Hecate’s initiate. Merry Christmas y'all! <3

The screams are the worst part.

They echo through the Labyrinth while you wait and wait and wait.

Even the very stones seem to cry and wail as you place your hope on Theseus who descended to this hell along with you and the human cattle. Seven young men and seven unwed women, meant to satisfy a beast...

And judging by the screams alone, it sounds like the monster is satisfied. It sounds like it's having a ball.

Fourteen lives have been lost, their blood swallowed by the earth as if Hades himself is drinking the crimson of Athenian youth in His feast. The flesh is the beast’s to devour: an underworld demon born of tainted lust.

Half bull, half man, you always thought the stories were only tales told by the fire to scare children. Turns out that the stories, for once, are true. There's something even worse in this maze, something cursed and foul... Hecate herself would shiver if She were here, in the womb of the earth, witnessing what you’re witnessing now.

You don’t actually see the Bull of Crete cut or hack or slash anyone, and you can only imagine what the monster does to the bloody, gutted corpses of the young. The only thing you see are the hollow, dark walls carved out of soil, sand, and clay, the intestine-like route dug deep into the earth. And you don't have to see the massacre: the screams tell you enough. The silence that follows betrays even more.

Your only light is flickering, waning: the candle will hardly last an hour. If the hero from Athens won’t arrive soon, you will have to leave this place. 

And oh, how you want to leave… You were a fool to follow him here. Blinded by love and hope, you thought Theseus of Athens would be your way out of Crete, but it’s clear that the only thing the young hero is capable of loving is fame. The only time his eyes turned to yours was when you said you might be able to help him with a small bundle of yarn.

Red as the setting sun or spilling blood, the thin woollen string is your only way out now. It’s ironic how a heap of twine is the only thing that can help you out of this hellhole, but the Fates always did possess a cruel sense of humour. Your silly daydreams might’ve cost your life, and even if you’re sworn to the dark goddess, you would rather die anywhere but here. In the darkness, all alone, with nothing but eyeless worms to keep company to your decaying bones.

The sudden draft from the outside world is warm but threatens to blow out your candle. It’s a sign from Apollo: if you don’t leave now, you’re dead. Theseus has to manage without you because you’re not dying in this underworld prison because of some man’s stupid lust for fame.

There's only deafening silence in the maze as you scurry up, taking support from the wall as your sight darkens for a moment. You rose too soon: you can’t even remember the last time you ate. And it appears that even the sun god has abandoned you because there's a faint echo of steps in the tunnel, and they don’t belong to a man. They’re too thick, unduly heavy, and it’s not a pair of sandals that are thumping against the soil.

So, Theseus is dead...

So much for the legend, the myth, the demigod.

Heart thumping in your chest and in the hollow of your throat, it threatens to drown the sound of approaching footsteps. They’re all dead, the people who descended here with you. The only thing you are right now is prey. You're being hunted; whether the Minotaur knows you're here or not, you know you're being hunted. You can feel it in your gut.

You cover the candle with one hand, hoping that the flickering light doesn’t reach around the bend. The falling thump of the footsteps stops, and you still your breath, hoping that the beast would turn around and search the other way.

You hear it sniffing behind the wall. It's trying to catch your scent in the air, the smell of dread and terror, sweat so thick it must reach his nostrils and make them flare with lust. Your heart is thundering in your chest, and the tunnel is so quiet that that you’re certain the creature will hear that, too. (Your heart always betrays you.)

And your luck is cursed.

The beast shifts. 

You can’t see him yet, but you can hear it: the scraping sound underneath his feet as he aligns himself anew, choosing the path that leads straight down to you.

“Hecate save me,” you whisper into the air that seems to grow denser as he approaches, loud thumps of feet now accompanied by metal grating against clay. 

“Hear me, flame-bearing guide... Darkness, protect me…”

He’s dragging bronze against the wall, announcing that he’s carrying a weapon with him, the strength of a bull apparently not satisfying enough if he wants to break your bones with metal.

Don’t blow out the candle... 

If you blow it out, you’ll die.

It’s a clear message, a knowing voice in your head that says it. It’s not young, it’s not old: just knowing. Alert. Wise beyond ages. 

So you still your breath and wait.

Shadows fill the curve of the tunnel just before he emerges: thick like thunder, a darkness so deep that even the name of the twilight goddess escapes your tongue. 

And he’s big. Bigger than the bulls you used to dance with, bigger than kings, or heroes, bigger than even Theseus, the man you thought was a myth walking. His head is enormous, bigger than the rest of him, awkward and rough like it’s not quite part of him even though he’s supposed to be half ox. 

The gigantic, horned figure stops when it sees you. Vast shoulders tense; the fat, double-edged sword falls to his side when he settles to loom between you and your only way to escape this place. You’re oddly thankful that the horrible screeching stopped, but then you notice that his blade is drenched in blood: actually, his torso, thighs, even the buckskin loincloth – the only garment this monster has chosen to wear – is spattered with red dots. 

The bronze tip drips with crimson, and the earth drinks it all. Hades is never satisfied: this beast is never full. Everyone who was sent down here is dead: everyone else has met their doom except you. You wonder if your mother would cry if she heard her only daughter died because she fell in love with a fool.

“I killed your hero,” the walls of hell boom. 

His voice is thick like tar, dark and foul like it’s the God of Earth himself speaking.

The flame in your hand quivers from fear, and you slowly remove your palm, the tiny candle illuminating the beast with warm homely yellow, making the prominent muscles of his chest even bigger. 

He’s carved like the statues in Athens, only, this giant is far hairier than the painted marble heroes of the city. The hair on his chest is thick and wild; it shoots down his abdomen and disappears underneath the loincloth, spreads over his inner thighs, even covers his shins in dark mats. He looks like a wild man, a beast indeed: sweaty, filthy and thick. But you never knew a beast like him could talk…

“A coward, that one,” he snarls, the voice reverberating oddly like it’s a human man speaking from under a wooden mask or inside a clay jug.

And you believe every word he says.

Theseus was strong and able-bodied, but he had built his strength just to show it off. This man’s body speaks of pure, ripe survival.

A hulking shadow with shoulders that barely fit the tunnels of the Labyrinth, with palms nearly twice the size of yours, he’s the myth walking instead of the hero whose blood now adorns that dull bronze blade. The Minotaur who survived his father’s wrath, his mother’s absence, these bleak surroundings, and all the heroes sent down to get his head… His weapon isn’t even sharp anymore, and still, he managed to cut through the sacrificial humans like butter. And what a horrific death it must’ve been to be hacked to pieces by a dull blade.

Is it evil of you to hope that the death of your “hero” wasn’t a quick one…?

Theseus was a fool and a coward, rotten to the core, but you saw all of that too late. He never cared about the human sacrifices or the king’s wrath; he never cared about digging into Pasiphae’s sorrow. He only cared about getting his face depicted on a pot or having his deeds played out in amphitheatres, his name uttered in song, accompanied by harp and flute.

“I know.”  

Your voice gets sucked into the earth: it doesn’t echo from the walls like his. It’s thin, damp, and frail, just like everything else meant to walk under the sun instead of stand buried under the earth.

But the beast before you tilts its head a little. It’s curious. 

Why would you say that? 

Why don’t you cry from hearing the news...? Why don’t you howl out your hero’s name and beg the gods to heed your grief? Why don’t you run away from a monster?

The candlelight is puny and weak, but it’s bright enough to bring out the eyes of an animal. You draw breath in the dampness of the earth when you finally see it: the bull’s head is devoid of eyes, and yet, the beast still has them. Blue as the summer sky, stern as the death grip of winter just before spring.

There’s nothing but ripped shreds of skin where the eyes should be, and instead of looking at you from the sides, they’re greeting you from the front. The horns are sturdy, but otherwise, the colossal head is a bit skewed... Thick patches of fur sticking out as if it was years and years old, and then – you realize it’s not his head; it’s only an illusion. 

There’s a man under there. A full, grown man who’s made himself a terrible helmet out of a bull’s carcass. 

“You’re a man,” you say out loud, earning yourself another shift of the colossal head.

“...What?”

The muffled echo confirms it: he’s speaking from inside the bull, moving only slightly to get a better look at you. 

“You’re not a monster. You’re just a man.”

His eyes are wild but intelligent; they pierce you from inside the inanimate shield. The large chest heaves, his ribs flare like sails as he draws air through what must be the foul stench of a long-dead animal.

He takes a step, and you shrink, almost dropping your candle and the roll of red yarn.

“You think talking will save you, female?”

He speaks like a man, walks like a man, but his moves are an animal’s. Shoulders slightly hunched like he’s a bull about to attack, you recognize the way his muscles quiver from the times when you used to do bull leaping. You don’t dance with Rhea’s oxen anymore: your tasks at Hecate’s temple are more suitable and less wild for a maiden your age. Back when you were younger and more agile, you used to jump from the back of one bull to the next, clouds of dust swirling around you as you showed your prowess to the priests.

But you can’t charm this ox by dancing. This one can’t be tricked or fooled: he will pierce you with those horns or his brazen sword if you take even a step.

“I can get you out of here,” you wet your lips, noticing that the blue eyes shoot straight to your mouth when you do that. “I know the way out.”

“What makes you think I want out,” he says, so tight and tense that you fear he’s either about to leap at your throat or plunge his sword into your chest.

And you should be concerned about your own safety, not about his sensibilities – if he even has such things – but hearing this beast man’s reply is like drinking bile. 

Why would anyone want to stay here?

You don’t know if he eats human flesh; you don’t know if he had to in order to survive. Everyone knows why his father threw him down here, but no one knows he’s not half the things the people above say he is. And if half of it isn’t true, what other lies have been told about the Minotaur? 

Even most prisoners see the sun, yet this man has been deprived of that, too. He’s been robbed of mother’s love, of father’s mercy, of friends and foes, of mentors and guides. He’s been robbed of life, of stars, of fires and summer skies, of women’s giggles, of fistfights with fellow men. Of songs and plays, of festivals and games, of bull dances, and maidens that leap…

“Have you ever been up there…? On the surface?”

You turn your voice into soft water on pebbles, a soothing pour of persuasion and goodwill. His pecs contract, strong abs under thin hair and body fat bunch like you’re about to hit him there. You take a step, and now it’s his turn to shun away. It’s only half an inch, but he actually moves away from you. 

“I can take you there,” you offer gently. “Have you ever seen the sun…?”

It’s like talking to a starved predator, trying to entice them to follow you with a fresh steak in hand, hoping that the fanged mouth won’t take more than was promised if it decides to accept the offering.

And the beast accepts. 

“As a boy,” he grunts, a tad more softly. 

Those eyes are fixed on you, reminding you of horses when they’re slightly afraid. The glint of white and blue behind the carcass is fiercely alive, quite unlike the hollow, disinterested stare of the Athenian hero who was only interested in himself.

But this beast is interested. Oh, the Bull Man of Crete is wildly, fiercely curious about you. 

“You’ll take me to the sun,” he repeats, an affirmation rather than a question.

“Yes. To the surface. I promise.”

He moves. Like an animal who learned long ago to drive others into the corner so that he wouldn’t get forced there himself, he’s primal, sensual in the way that oracles in a trance are sensual.

Approaching you in silence that’s almost eerie, the hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end by the time he’s only an arm’s length away. Why announce his coming earlier if he can move so quietly?

“You’ll lead me to my father.” 

His gaze bores into you, and not even the warm draft from the tunnels can prevent you from shivering. He’s distrustful, and it’s no wonder. It must be odd that some girl with a candle and a bundle of yarn is suddenly waiting for him around the bend, and doesn’t even flee. He’s a behemoth, but he’s not stupid. A stupid man would not have been able to survive, let alone thrive in this place.

And why should he trust you? Who is he supposed to trust in this maze when every person he has seen has either run away from him or tried to kill him? His father will slaughter him if he ever escapes the Labyrinth, so what else is a priestess in his kingdom but a squealing mouse, trying to feed him lies and then guide him to the surface and into a forest of spears? 

“No,” you shake your head slowly. “No, I promise I know the way. There will be no soldiers–”

You shut your mouth just before a huge palm closes around your throat. 

Gods, but he moves fast when he wants to… 

The candle and the yarn drop the instant his hand seizes your neck, strong fingers nearly meeting at the back as he squeezes your windpipe ever so slowly.

And he’s so close now. The carcass reeks of death, but the man underneath stinks of plain human sweat. His musk is a peculiar mix of blood, earth and soil, something both stale and invigorating, the thin sheen of sweat and dirt covering his muscles making him look like a common builder. It’s strange that the bull’s head hasn’t yet decayed in this place, that the man doesn’t reek of bodies and bones that must be scattered around like debris further down the tunnels. 

Another thing that’s strange is that he doesn’t seem to want to simply silence you.

He also wants to touch you.

A wide thumb strokes the underside of your jaw as he studies you. It slides down the column of your throat, the blue eyes gleaming with fascination when you swallow against him.

He drinks in the sight of you: the lips that part with fear, the frail collarbones that breathe against the side of his palm. The promising crevice between your breasts, the enticing softness of your teats. 

You can hear his breath grow heavy under ox skin and bone, the rugged, vicious helmet he has chosen to wear. What lies under, you can only imagine, wherein he has little left to the imagination when taking in the curve of your breasts, your nipples rising to peaks under the thin white linen only temple virgins use. 

Seeing your reaction to his touch makes him growl -- he actually growls like an animal, a deep, low rumble of approval rising up his throat when he sees how different your body is from his. How supple and cushy it is, soft and plump like a peach, covered only barely as if to tease a best like him. You wonder if he ever took pleasure in the maidens sent here by the king… If he ever thrust the sword between his legs into their weak bodies before giving them the mercy of his actual blade. Would he even know what to do with a woman, having lived here for so long?

“Please,” you whisper, bringing his eyes back to yours, the ice in them now liquid sapphire of pure want. 

Gods… You need to bring his attention back to your offer of help before he sees it more compelling to just stay here and play with his new, plump little mouse. Virgin or not, you wouldn’t survive a mating with this man. 

“I swear on Hecate’s torch that it’s not a trap. You have my word: I’m a priestess soon to be.”

He’s entranced. Hypnotized by your lips. You lick them to confirm your fears true: the man grunts with pleasure, out of instinct, absentmindedly like an animal who reacts to the sight of a fat, meaty bone. 

Oh, he might not know what to do with a woman… But he would try his best to find out. 

“Priestess…?” He rasps.

“It’s a holy woman,” you explain. “I serve the Goddess of the Crossroads.”

He snorts, either because he’s not impressed or because he’s downright amused by your vocation. The eyes, warmer, more demanding now, are far from the eyes of a bewildered beast.

“Little female of the crossroads... You will take me to the king. And then, I will kill him.”

He puts weight into his words, tries to make you understand. 

He wants you to guide him to his father. 

To the King who claims his son is half bull, to the husband who claims his wife was adulterous with an ox. To the King who demands tribute as virgins so that he can send them down to hell. The dark goddess screams justice, but you're at a horrible stalemate.

The gods will curse you for this… They will smite you with a bolt of lightning or drown you next time you cross the great sea if they see you’ve helped this half-beast escape. If you guide him to Minos, you’re a participant in kingslaying, and the gods never forget things like that.

“He’s your father and the king of Crete,” you whisper in fear. “The gods will strike you down–”

“Gods?” He spits. “I piss on the gods. I fuck their corpses and leave them to rot.”

You almost choke on the blasphemy levelled at you. The shadows creep closer, the stare behind the black fur is dark and amused, burning with the crooked wrath of a thousand years. 

“Perhaps I’ll fuck you too.”

It’s unnerving that you don’t find the threat wholly unappealing.

If anything, your eyes drift down to the hairs of his chest, to the two big muscles that resemble the work of the best sculptors in Athens. 

“Are you a virgin, female of the crossroads?”

His eyes search for your response: they want to see your fear and disgust. You swallow again, arduously against his hand, both caressing and testing you. 

The beast leans forward, as if weighing if he could somehow insult the gods by pillaging you. The rough hair of his chest meets the white cloth, it brushes against your nipples as he bends down to have a good sniff of you.

“You smell like a virgin,” he growls.

The hand leaves your throat, only to travel down your sternum. He grabs your breast nonchalantly, a little too roughly, the hot palm closing around the teat and squeezing it like it’s a toy. When you don’t react, he squeezes it again, this time hard enough to coax a whimper out of you.

“Sound like a virgin…”

Without warning, the hand dives straight between your legs next, palm forcing its way through your thighs and curving to cup your sex, moulding around it with barbaric thirst.

“Feel like a virgin, too.”

It’s thick, hot, and heavy, how he simply tries you through your dress. Fingers testing your folds, he’s clearly enjoying the subtle wetness he finds down there. You can hear another hitched grunt pushing up his throat, rugged and whiny this time, a broken groan that dissipates because of how dry his throat is. 

No man has ever dared to lay his hands on you... Many have wanted, but none have tried. Even drunkards and fools respect women who belong to the dark goddess.

But he doesn’t care about the wrath of Hecate. He doesn’t give a shit about the gods. He simply takes what he wants, what falls into his lap. The fifteenth offering, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in devouring your flesh. 

How easily he could simply yank that loincloth aside and drag your dress up. Force his cock into your tight, wet heat without uttering a word. You doubt that he would even take the trouble of laying you down on the ground for taking... Beasts rut when they want to: this man could fuck you against this wall if his loins demanded so, guttural groans being the last thing you hear before the candle goes out. 

You don’t know if you have to spread your legs for him before this is over, but you reckon you will do even that if it means you’ll see the sun again. You’ll endure every thick thrust, and gods be cursed, you wouldn’t even be solely disgusted if this half-animal chose to breed you... As shameful as it is, you would somewhat enjoy having him rut you like an animal in heat.

And you’ve gone mad, surely. 

You want to touch him too, just to test another theory. 

Deciding that it's a good idea to stick your hand into the maw of hell, your fingers lift. They meet his bicep, and the lewd panting stops.

He’s not even breathing… He’s just drowsy and drunk, looking at you with a mixture of soft sleepiness and awe in his stare. Like a dog who has never been petted, even his eyes drift half closed when he forgets to threaten you, now focusing solely on your hand. 

And you start to caress him, slowly, so slowly… Tracing the muscle all the way up where it meets the shoulder, you stroke even the thick cord that leads to his neck. The rest of him disappears under the bull, but the man behind it already shivers under your touch. He even bends his head a little in hopes that you would go under the mask and touch him there, and the gesture reminds you of an animal exposing its vulnerable areas, baring its very throat in submission. 

Braving a quick peek down, you notice that the buckskin cloth is stretched high and wide. His whole body is tense and immobile: you could cup him through the soft animal skin and he would probably shoot his seed from a single stroke of your palm. 

If this is not a virgin, you don’t know what is...

In a way, it would perhaps be wise to shove your hand down and disarm this man. That way, you would be safe for a few more minutes. Instead, you lay your palm over his chest, right over where his heart should be. 

“So do you, Bull of Crete...”

His gaze flickers.

The darkness hesitates, widens, nearly swallows the azure pools whole. But he doesn’t look irate or wild... Only shocked.

It’s an impasse. A thicket. His hand on you, your hand on him.

He surrenders first: the underworld budges before the utterly pure. You bless him with grace the instant he withdraws his hand from between your legs – slowly, reluctantly, like leaving a place that belongs to him. Or to which he belongs…

“I promise I’ll help you, Minos Tauros. But I need you to give me something in return.”

You remove your hand too. Softly, slowly, like a horse master who trains and tames wild things. All words seem to have escaped his tongue: he only grunts, unsure of what a beast like him could give you in return for your help.

“You must promise to be kind to me.”

“Kind...?”

“I need you to behave,” you explain. “No bad things on the way up... No fucking.”

Everything else, he seems to accept, but during the last sentence the Minotaur blinks at you, utterly confused.

“But... You smell like you want to fuck.” 

Your jaw drops open a tiny bit. Then you remember that a priestess of Hecate doesn’t gawk.

“I don’t–How would you know that…?”

The beast only shrugs. Then he leans forward and takes another sniff as if to prove it’s true that you want his cock inside you.

“You smell good,” he grunts. “Different... Female, not afraid.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to…”

He even raises his hand to inspect the slight wetness there. Fascinated by the thin film on his fingers, he rubs his thumb in it, probably thinking about bringing it under his mask to get a good sniff of your juices too.

You grab his wrist without thinking, mortified to your core by the prospect of him getting high on your slick. 

“Look. We need to leave before the candle burns out.”

The obsessive stare threatens to swallow you once more, so you let go of his wrist and steel your resolve. Scooting down to grab your things, you try to ignore the violent erection still pointing straight at you.

Hecate keep you from offering yourself to this man out of your own free will...

And you don’t have a torch, only a candle and a skein of blood-red yarn, but you know the way out, so there’s hope. There’s always hope.

“I need you to promise me,” you turn at the mouth of the tunnel, seeing that he’s still standing there, in the place where he almost took you like his first whore. As if waking up from a thrall, he straightens to his full height, picks up his sword and looks like a half-human, half-bull once more.

“I promise,” comes a booming voice from under the animal skull. “No fucking… I’ll behave.” 

You nod. There's a sense of trust in the air. A promise of hope... It's mutual, invigorating -- life-giving, like the sun and blood in your hands.

You don't know if the son of Minos has ever smiled in here, but from the quick glint in his eyes, you suspect that he's smiling right now, the man under that animal mask. Somehow, it reminds you of the stars in the sky.

“Lead the way, maiden.”

#könig x reader #könig x you #könig x fem reader #konig x reader #könig #könig cod #konig x you #cod konig

[screeching-bunny]

Yandere! Concubine Harem

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

Many people would call you crazy or insane but you didn’t care. You absolutely hated your life and the god forsaken family you were born into. If you could choose, you would have been born into a lesser family. It wasn’t always like this, in fact when you were younger you were last in line for the throne. It was due to the sabotage of greedy and jealous mothers that got all your half siblings and full blooded siblings murdered. Unfortunately, that meant that you were forced into the position of being the next heir and eventually the new ruler.

You could remember the moment you became heir, you were immediately bombarded with people trying to curry up your favor. You honestly hated it, everyone just felt superficial and it didn’t help that as you grew, so did your power. Even your childhood friends were not immune to this. Imagine your shock when your closest friend got up on one knee and asked for the chance to court you. Then your classmate, then your former brother’s friend, and etc.

You had barely even had a concept of what love was. From a very young age your mother was murdered and your father hardly ever paid that much attention to you as well. You were mostly alone in your own little world and you absolutely loved that. People always just seemed so annoying to you that you did the bare minimum in communicating with others.

You tried to remain single as long as possible but your father did not agree with this decision of yours. He’s always seen relationships and marriage as a way to get more influence from around the world. So at the age of twenty, you were officially given a concubine, a foreign princess from the East. She was clingy and whenever you talked to other people she seemed to always want to monopolize your attention. This behavior only seemed to get worse when your father caused you to take in concubines to gain various alliances.

Within your harem there was competition daily. Sons of generals who tried to show off with their strengths, princesses who tried to get your attention with their singing abilities, princes who would try to show off their archery, scholars who showed off their intelligence, etc. The list goes on and on. There was so much jealousy in your harem that it was unbelievable. It also didn’t help that everyone was always trying to kill each other. You were so sick and tired of it. All you wanted was some peace and quiet.

There were daily assassination attempts on concubines, poised drinks to make someone infertile, constant fake crying so that you could favor someone, and etc. Every single time you take in a new concubine you could always feel them seething but you always ignored it. You didn’t know why they loved you so much, hell you even told them if they ever wanted a divorce you would give it to them. Yet, no one has ever left willingly. It was as if they looked up to you as a god or something it was just so strange.

You’re favored concubines were of course, always thrilled to have your attention on them. They were usually the ones who got to sleep with you at night. Seems as a privilege as only the most loved got to do that. You, however, had to be careful sometimes because unwanted sexual advances could happen anytime in the bedroom.

If you feel in a particularly good mood that day however, you may even let one of them bathe with you. “Your majesty, your skin is silky smooth. I wish to do this with you forever. No words can express how I feel and how much I love you. Won’t you allow me to be your first husband?” Yeah, this was basically how most of your conversations went. Everyone wanted to have the first slot at being your husband or wife. It was the ultimate showcase to prove you loved them the most and was a definite power trip for those in the harem.

Going to bed everyday was like a minefield. You just don’t know who’s going to show up in your chambers. Most of the time it’s one of your concubines, that you allowed to sleep with you for the night, in provocative attire. “Your majesty, I’ve been feeling a little lonely lately. Won’t you please pay some attention to me?” It’s honestly crazy how there is no limit of what these guys wouldn’t do for you. They just seem so overly infatuated and obsessive.

No matter what you did to them, they would always seem to look at you with love and admiration. You could basically insult all of them and they would accept it with a ‘thank you’. Nothing you did, could ever make them hate you.

Bullying was an extreme issue in your harem. No matter where you went there were always green tea bitches, white lotuses, and cunning foxes trying to bring someone down in your eyes. It’s even worse if they're new, having barely any awareness of what is happening, they definitely need to be more careful. No matter where you go at least three of them are stuck to your side. You’re alone time is basically nonexistent and extinct.

With teary eyes one of your concubines shout, “My lord, please help me! I’m being bullied by the others in the harem!” If you were being honest, you absolutely did not care about what was going on and one hundred percent knew that she was just using a manipulation tactic. However, to avoid the incoming headache you begin to console her and tell her that you’ll have a talk with everyone. You then decide to give her what she wanted and guide her towards your bedroom chambers. As you both leave she quickly looks at the faces of the others and sticks her tounge out. There was a look of absolute rage on their faces and with that they all had the same unanimous thought in their head.

“I’m totally going to get that bitch back for this!!!”

Pt.2

#yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere harem #male yandere #female yandere #gn reader

[kooktrash]

his special secret | kim taehyung

summary: you’re an art student who has recently broken up with your cheating ex boyfriend. he’s your art professor recovering from a divorce just a year ago. what happens when your relationship goes beyond that of a professor and his college student?

➢ genre/au: college art professor!tae x art student!y/n [she/her… afab] [age gap 9 years]

➢ 12.5k words

warnings: smüt. secret relationship. tae is 30, y/n is 21. car sëx. oral [f&m]. make out. groping. tae is divorced. both got cheated on in past. jealous tae. dirty talk. makeout in art closet. y/n is confident but going thru it. professor x student. no protection. y/n is on top.

[REUPLOAD] HIS SPECIAL SECRET 2

You know when you're really mad to the point that you wanna cry? Not because you're sad but because you're so mad and you can't even act on that anger, especially not right now, you couldn't even show that you're upset because you're in class. Obviously it started off with your stupid ass ex-boyfriend's tenth apology text where it was mostly just him trying to gaslight you. Then it was because of missing the bus to campus which made you have to get a taxi and spend way more money than necessary, but get this, you spent like 20$ so you wouldn't miss your first class and yet it was canceled. Canceled! After spending that money to make it for that specific lecture you walk over to the room only to find a big fat 'canceled' sign on the door. Plus,  you had enough time to catch the next bus if the professor only posted or emailed everyone saying it was cancelled, hell you could’ve even slept longer.

Your phone is still being blown up and you just can’t focus on your painting today. You can’t mix the right shade and it is beginning to drive you crazy. Your palette is getting too full and your water is so dirty that it isn’t even cleaning the brush anymore. You had already been trying to keep your cool this entire time but now you can’t take it anymore. You were so upset with the trillion texts you were being sent and with your painting not going the way you wanted it too, oh and missing the bus and class being canceled, you were very clearly overstimulated and overwhelmed. You felt like there is nothing you can do but just give up for the day.

You stood abruptly taking your brushes and palette to the sink in the back of the room. You dried and packed them all up not caring to say anything to anyone else as you picked up your bags and canvas. You put your things away and left, not turning back to professor who looked up from helping another person to watch you leave so suddenly. You finally got your phone out and dialed one of your friend's number hearing it ring twice before they picked.

"What do you want? I'm trying to take a nude here?"

"Can you pick me up? I'm done with classes," you asked him. You weren't even that far from the classroom but you were done. You had been working on the same part for over twenty minutes and it was not getting any better so you just had to go.

"You're lucky I was gonna go get Bora too, I'll be there in fifteen," Jungkook said finishing up his last shirtless picture before going for you two.

"Will that be all for today?" A voice spoke up behind you as your call came to an end. You jumped looking back and following the voice's direction and froze at the sight of your professor.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I just—I can't focus today," you sighed rambling out a shitty excuse. He huffed crossing his arms over his chest. You swear your professor came from a world where only the most attractive people are born. It wasn't even you being dramatic, it's just the facts. He had dark hair always styled neatly, his face was angular yet soft and his dark brows made his expressions more attractive. His voice was always so low that it was quite literally mouth watering and he loved wearing long sleeve button ups where he could just roll his sleeves up if he got too hot. You looked at his face, snapping yourself out of your thoughts at his expression.

He looked annoyed, but he kept himself neutral as he spoke, "The exhibition is next month. You only have a few weeks to finish the piece before the submission deadline. Don't you think you should try to focus on your painting?"

"I did try Professor Kim, I've just been—there's just a lot going on and—" you stopped suddenly staring at his left hand, a silver band no longer there. You stuttered a little to start again, "I apologize."

"Mhm," he muttered looking away from you to the others inside the art studio focused on their work, "Just go on, make sure the next time you step into the studio you're more focused."

Dick. "Of course sir," you said turning your back to leave finally. You got to the campus entrance just in time meeting Bora along the way and the two of you got into Jungkook's car. He was shirtless as he drove.

"What's up with you?" You asked buckling yourself in as you got in the passenger's seat. He was on his phone looking up at you through sunglasses that made you laugh, "You look like such a douche."

"Shut up I told you I was taking nudes," he said as he drove away, "Plus I'm hungover and the sun's way too bright but I wanna know what took you two so damn long."

"Oh my god I left my laptop in the journalism room so I had to go all the way to get it and you know I hate walking too much," Bora said from the back seat. You sighed, "Mr. Kim caught me outside and he kind of lectured me but it's whatever. You won't believe what I noticed today—"

"What?" The two said in harmony ready for any sort of gossip. You looked genuinely surprised, "He doesn't have a wedding ring anymore." They leaned back in disappointment.

"Yeah we know," Bora said sarcastically, "Everyone's been talking about it since last semester. The word is he must've gotten divorced over the summer."

"Wait so it's almost been a year? How did I not know? He's so young," you said with furrowed brows trying to understand what you were being told. Jungkook sighed dramatically, "Because you had a boyfriend and you're not into older men."

"He's like 30, that's not old, first of all," Bora cut in, "And Y/n has daddy or mommy issues, so she's probably into older men."

"How did this get turned on me?" You asked looking between the two before settling your eyes on Bora, "He really got divorced? I thought he'd been with her since he was 20."

“Yeah, apparently word on campus is that he caught her with her coworker," Bora told you, "Minho from the Tech department heard it in the staff room. Apparently he was asked to help with some computer problem and two teachers were talking about it. He told his girlfriend and she's told basically everyone."

"Why do so many care?" Jungkook asked pulling up to your apartment. Bora gasped, "Why? Because he is literally the world's most attractive man? He's like a God. I promise you everyone has a crush on him and that's why so many of the beginner art class was filled. Everyone wanted to have him as a teacher even if they weren't art majors."

"Is that why you signed up for an art theory class this semester?" You asked turning to her. She nodded with a pout, "Yeah but it was already filled. You're so lucky he's head of the department and you're in your third year. You get to work with him more since his focus is on proficient students.”

"He's super strict though," you told her with a defeated sigh, "But I guess he's honest. You have to be ready to face critique and he's helpful. He just makes you feel like shit when you're not focused."

"I bet he's an ass because he's probably not getting laid," Jungkook laughed, "Divorce does that to people. Turns them bitter."

"Are you kidding? Look at him, women must be all over him, hell half of us on campus would gladly have him," Bora swooned. You looked down at your phone, yet another text message from your shitty ex-boyfriend.

"Y/n you should sleep with him," Bora joked, "Since you're both newly single and you'll be a good shoulder for him to cry on."

"Thanks but I like guys my own age and I’m pretty sure being his student already complicates things enough," you said absentmindedly before reading over the newest text. It's been at least two weeks and he still hasn't quit trying to gaslight you. It was ridiculous and so damn tiring. Your professor was right, you had to focus on art and this was only a distraction. You'll have to stay over time tomorrow because he hasn't left you alone today.

namjoon: I srsly don't get y you're still ignoring me

namjoon: you kno I'd never do something to hurt u

        One of the best parts about being an art student who has finished their prerequisites is that now you can really just focus on your work. So you'd basically go to one or two art classes and then you would go and work on your art. Bora was right when she said he was your mentor and it was in fact pretty exclusive.

You sold a painting last year in the Spring Art Exhibit for the university and Professor Kim became a lot more helpful. Despite his young age he had great connections in the art world from financers to auctioneers and museums. He helped proficient students participate in more exhibits and some art auctions where they could be noticed for their work and now you're one of them. Obviously he could be strict but it's because he saw potential in you and you definitely did not want to disappoint him. That's why you've spent majority of your day here well into the evening. You did have to work later but it would be open for at least another hour and that's enough time to adjust some color blocking. The sunset was long gone and you’ve barely been twenty minutes into your groove when someone else entered the studio.

You lowered the music coming from your speaker immediately at the sight of your teacher. He looked at you for a moment before continuing his walk to his desk. You tried going back to your work but now all you could think about is how dumb you were for not noticing he was divorced even if it didn’t matter to you at all. He was fishing some black portfolio out of a drawer as he spoke, "A custodian should be by soon to mop the floors and lock the room. You'll probably want to leave soon."

"Yes, I’ll start cleaning up now," you sighed as you looked at the very little work you got done. You could obviously try and work on it at home but that was too distracting. Your apartment was small and filled with distractions and there wasn't enough room for your things. It was a three canvas piece and with the easel and all your paints, brushes, palettes, and sketches spread out on the floor there's no room. At least here you had places to lock it up in. It got awkward again as you cleaned up your space and he did something at his desk. So, awkwardly, you tried to fill the silence, "Any plans this weekend, sir?"

"Nothing too interesting," he said seriously as he shuffled through some documents to find something, "Probably nothing like what all of you get up to on the weekend."

You assumed he was talking about college students. You went to one of those Universities that was extremely popular for producing majority of the well-paid lawyers, athletes, engineers, actors, musicians and artists. The student succession rate was high and yet every weekend every college student was out there getting completely shitfaced because of stress. You shrugged, "Well mine’s not interesting either, I have to work all weekend."

You doubt he cares at all but you said it anyway. Mr. Kim left shortly after with a quick goodbye and you rushed to catch the bus.

        Taehyung's weekend didn't completely start till Saturday night. His Friday night was filled with directing a new upcoming event happening. The exhibit is in a month and Taehyung's been stuck calling buyers and businesses for confirmation in their attendances. It was really a large charity event where large corporations get publicity and popularity from but a lot of the students who have managed to put their name out there are pretty well known in the art world. Many have gone on to create their exhibitions and events for their art and have had large commissions. The school did a really good job at providing their students with advantages in their careers and Taehyung was pretty proud to be helping his art major students. Of course it was stressing but it was an honor at his age. Obviously it helped that his parents were well known art curators and have worked with foreign and home artists for years. The only thing that was hard is how much work it really was and with the shitty year he's had he needs a break.

"It's been a year Taehyung, nobody's telling you to find another wife," his best friend Jimin said as him and his two friends sat at the counter of some lounge bar. "We're just saying you should at least have post-divorce sex with some random chick and let off some steam. It's a Saturday night, I say we hit up some night club after this."

"No thanks, I'm not in the mood to be shoved around by drunk college kids," Yoongi cut in as he read over the drink menu as the bartender showed up. He gave his drink order first putting the attention on Taehying and Jimin making him look up. His mouth opened slightly in surprise at the sight before him.

You managed to hide your surprise at actually seeing your teacher outside of campus but you were working and he was with friends. He was the one to stumble over his words when he gave you his drink order. Jimin smirked evilly when you turned to make the drinks at the way Taehyung was acting. You wore a black skirt and fitted black top with your hair and make up done.

"Well well well," Jimin whispered to the other two, "I guess I don't need to force you on blind dates. You can chat up the bartender."

"It was pretty awkward hearing you try and talk to her," Yoongi added in making Taehyung shake his head in disagreement. Still, he continued, "No, I—she’s my—she’s too young.”

"Taehyung, look at your gorgeous face, I doubt it matters, plus you’re a college professor! You’ve got a PhD, you’re well off, you’re artistic! It's no wonder everyone throws themselves at you, so go at it," Jimin said making Taehyung laugh, "Do you have a crush on me Chimmy?"

"Of course, I'm one of those college girls of yours who join your lectures just to for you to notice them," Jimin joked shaking his head, "And yet Jihyun is the one who cheated and not you."

"Way to bring that up," Yoongi hit him letting them conversation drop as you came back with the drinks taking their money, Taehyung looked after you. Did you work every weekend? He didn't expect you to be the type to work here. He doesn't usually pay attention to his students aside from during his teachings but you were obviously a different story along with all of his advanced students. He was your mentor and you spent a lot of time in the art studio. You mostly kept to yourself and did your work. He usually saw you stressed out but the other day was the first time in two years that you just walked out of his class. It was hard juggling the art piece from the Spring Art Exhibit and the final for their realism class but that's life and you leaving was so out of character to him.

It was still weird to see you give up that day. He obviously didn't know how you acted outside of the art department but he really was surprised especially considering the way you were dressed. He also didn't know you were the type to be friends with muscular men covered in tattoos and piercings.

"Holy shit that really is your professor," Jungkook whispered to you as he wiped the inside of some shot glasses. You and him stood at the other end of the bar gossiping. Jungkook smirked, "This is a sign, you should sleep with him."

"Do you ever think about something other than sex?" "Not really."

“Alright well focus on your own sex life and not mine. I just dumped Namjoon like three weeks ago," you complained, "Plus I'm pretty sure there's a rule against student and staff relations."

"Alright but you're 21 and he's like 30 so legally..." Jungkook trailed off giving you enough time to cut in. You sighed, "Just stop."

After some time you did circle back to the group of men and took more drink orders. While you were there one of them excused themselves to the restroom and the other got a call. In the end, Taehyung was the only one left. You found yourself stalling as you wiped your side of the lowered counter in front of him.

"I'm off," Jungkook came by patting your shoulder, "Want me to wait for you?" You shook your head at him, "No, I have to close remember?"

"Alright well call me if you change your mind," then he reached out and flicked your forehead, "See ya, Ugly."

You rolled your eyes swatting his hand away as your cheeks reddened in embarrassment. He's such an asshole. Taehyung didn't say anything for a second and then said, "So this is where you go after the studio?"

"On the weekends yeah," you said biting your lip nervously, "Also sorry if I seemed disrespectful but you're out with your friends and I didn't want to interrupt."

"Don't worry about it, I'm not offended I was just surprised. You're the first student I've seen outside of school-related events," he confessed with a small smile. From what he saw of you with that guy you definitely seemed outgoing. You seemed playful and maybe a little sarcastic but when he sees you in the studio you’re serious. When you talk to him it seems like you're always on edge and he still wanted to know what made you walk out the other day. Sensing another wave of awkwardness coming between you two you took a glass in your hand, "How about a drink? On the house."

"That's alright, I can pay—" "Sir, it's just one drink it'll be fine," you waved him off already mixing it before handing it to him, "You seem stressed."

Your fingertips touched his on accident as he took the drink. Your eyes locked once more before you were backing away to help some people on the other end. Taehyung has never looked at any of his students sexually but obviously he'd never been blind to the attractive ones. He'd been married for five years and he was loyal unlike his ex wife. Plus, he knew the position he was in and what it'd do to his career if he ever got involved with a student so the thought never came to mind. Right now though, he's having a hard time seeing you as a student and not just someone from the bar. Thankfully, his friends returned to him just as you caught him staring again.

Bora would be losing her shit over your small interaction with your professor. He was so unbelievably attractive and to see him in a setting like this made you want to do very bad things with him. Maybe their jokes about using your Professor for rebound sex was getting to your head. Obviously your friends never meant anything serious by that but wow did that seem do-able right now, especially considering the fact that he keeps staring at you.

"Come on Taehyung, let's go clubbing, I haven't gone in a while," Jimin begged him turning to Yoongi, "You too, let's go."

"Nah man, I'm not cut out for that anymore. I’m older than the two of you," Yoongi reminded making Jimin roll his eyes. He pulled on Taehyung's arm, "Let's go get you laid."

"Shut up, I'm not going, why don't you go? You don't need us," Taehyung told him. Jimin huffed gathering his things, "Fine. I will."

They waved him off watching him leave until it was just the other two. Yoongi sighed, "I should probably head home before Jieun comes to get me herself. It was nice drinking with you though, call me if you need anything."

Taehyung knows that he should just head out too. His two friends just left and he's got no reason to still be at the bar but he waited for you to come back and clean up their glasses.

"Your friends left already?" You asked him wiping at the counter.

"Uh yeah, I think I need to sober up before I head out though," he cleared his throat nervously, "Can I get a water?"

"Of course," you left for a second to fill it before coming back. You set the glass down in front of him stalling a little before asking, "I don't know if this is inappropriate or anything but are you alright sir? I, uh, I actually just realized you're not wearing your ring anymore."

His breath hitched for a second. He'll be a year since his divorce in two months and you've just now noticed? Well he doesn't expect his students to notice a small detail but still felt weird to hear it. He nodded in acknowledgment to your question, "It's alright, but yes, I'm not wearing my ring anymore. I had a divorce last summer."

"Wow," you said absentmindedly, "Well I hope you're doing well. I know this isn't all that similar but I actually just recently ended a relationship too."

"Oh?" Taehyung questioned with peaked interest. The nagging part in his brain was telling him to go before he got too curious about his student's personal life, "Is everything alright with you then?"

"Yeah it's fine," you shrugged leaving for a second to help someone else. Taehyung still waited even if he knew it was his chance to return to his empty home. When you came back he rushed to question you, "So, what made the two of you end it? Was he someone you were with since high school?"

"God no, we'd only been dating a few months but he still cheated," you blurted out, the topic still annoying you, "I mean, you know, some people just aren't worth it."

"He cheated on you?" Taehyung asked looking you up and down without much thought. He might be crossing the line with the next thing he says. You nodded no longer caring about keeping this to yourself, "With one of my closest friends actually. Safe to say I don't talk to either of them anymore."

"You're beautiful."

You froze. His words were mumbled behind his hand as he looked away from you, "I mean... you seem like a great person and I don't see why anyone would ever choose someone else over you." You didn't say anything for a moment before nodding your head, "Well I could say the same for you Mr. Kim."

Ah, so even if you just found out he was divorced clearly you’ve heard the rumors. It was embarrassing that his students and others knew what happened. The conversation changed after that. He asked about your progress and you went into detail about your work. He nodded listening, "Well maybe I could offer some guidance after class."

"I'd really appreciate that, and once again I'm sorry for walking out of class the other day," you bit your lip nervously and it had Taehyung doing the same. Stop, Y/n's your student and is at least nine years younger than you, he told himself.

His breath hitched as he tried to push his thoughts away before something bad happened. The two of you talked for another hour or two, before you knew it the bar was supposed to close soon as it was past midnight. Taehyung noticed the a sense of all other customers with a sense of dread, he'd have to leave now. He actually enjoyed talking to you, he's never connected with his students but you were easy to talk to. Obviously that was already inappropriate and he should just forget all of this but it was hard. He liked having someone to listen even if it weren't his close friends. He sighed as he stood, "So, you're closing soon?"

He was setting some cash down on the counter, a good tip that you tried to refuse. You nodded, "Yeah, I've gotta do some cleaning up unfortunately."

"How do you get home? You ride the bus?" He asked playing with his keys. You pushed some hair behind your ears, "No actually I'll probably have to call a cab since it's so late."

"Nonsense, if you're up for it I can give you a lift," Taehyung offered up before he could even process what he was saying, "I mean, I don't know how comfortable I'd feel letting you get in a stranger's car this late at night when I can wait for you. Unless you think that's inappropriate." It was.

You nodded, "I mean, if you don't mind waiting..." "I don't," Taehyung rushed to say, "I'll bring my car around to the front and wait for you alright? It gives me a chance to sober up some more anyway. You've got my number right?"

You did since he was your mentor. A lot of you students who were in advanced classes had his number since you all had a group chat. Taehyung would be lying if he said he hasn't had female students in the past be a little too suggestive in his messages but he always shut it down right away. The only reason he wanted to take you home tonight is because he actually enjoyed talking with you. He hadn't spoken with a woman this much in a long time unless it was school or work related. He's shot down every one of Jimin's offers to set him up with someone and when they'd go out drinking Taehyung was never interested in hooking up with strangers.

When you got in his car he passed you his jacket to drape over your legs and you thanked him, "Thank you so much, cabs are so expensive."

"Yeah, I bet they are, just tell me when to turn, alright?" Taehyung said as he pulled onto the street heading down the direction you pointed to. Your phone sat on your lap ringing and you didn't hang up or answered. If you hung up he'd just keep calling and calling.

He looked down at your phone before shifting his eyes back on the road, hand adjusting his grip on the steering wheel, "Do you need to answer that?"

"Huh? No it's just my ex," you told him honestly staring out the window, "He's still bothering me all the time."

"Mm," he hummed in acknowledgement as you pointed at what street to turn down, "He's still trying even after sleeping with your former friend?"

"Yeah, he thinks apologizing over and over again is gonna change my mind," you said with a shrug, "But that's done with thankfully. Don't you feel that way? Happy it's over?"

He waited a moment trying to think it over. Is this conversation with you wrong? Well in reality, getting you in his car this late at night is wrong. Thinking about how your perfume filled his car with a soft floral scent. Plus you were pretty, he'd thought that the other day too when he caught you in the studio so late. Your hair had been pinned back and your smock was covered in paint along with your hands. He had found himself stalling his mission that night before rushing home once he realized it.

"Um, I am happy it's over but it was also a ten year relationship that she threw away for one night," Taehyung said to you, "I'm happy it's over but it still upsets me. Sorry, maybe we shouldn't be talking about this?"

"Of course I'm so sorry Mr. Kim," you said turning away from him, "Um it's just up the street. The building with a gate."

He nodded driving forward. He was about to know where one of his student's lives. But why didn't he want to drop you off now? When he pulled up to the side of the building still a little hidden under the night sky he turned to you. Should he walk you up to make sure you get u wide safely or would that be taking it too far?

Maybe you were crazy or maybe your friends really got to your head because you did not want to leave. Obviously before you thought he was just your hot, married professor but now? After spending over an hour just talking to him and then him dropping you off home was messing with your head. Plus, you went through very similar experiences and he had to be at least a little into you to go out of his way to wait for you to take you home. Obviously it was wrong since he was your professor but in reality the age part didn't matter. Sure, you've always said you like guys your age but just look at Kim Taehyung.

So yeah, you were taking your sweet time unbuckling yourself and giving him his jacket back. He didn't say anything watching you sit up trying to get your things and for some reason he really did not want you to go. What he hadn't expected was the look in your eyes when you caught him staring again. This was wrong. He had to stop looking at you like that. He was nine years older than you and your college professor.

But then, you surprised him when you reached over the middle console. He didn't even have to think about what was going on when his hand was on your jaw pulling you closer until your lips met. He released a soft groan into your mouth letting his tongue lick along your lower lip until you gave him room to explore your mouth.

You were so eager, a hand on his thigh to keep yourself up as he tongue kissed you.  He should not be doing this, he knows he shouldn't but it's been so long since he's had anyone's hands on him but his own. He did not sleep around and he was acting out of character with you but in this moment he just needed to have you. The nagging feeling was still in the back of his head though.

You trailed wet kisses down his jaw, kissing along his neck arching your back into him. He couldn't stop the slide of his hand over the back of your skirt, groping a little at your butt as he reached over to touch you too. Even then he just had to speak, "This is wro—ng, you're my student."

You're not completely sure what came over you in the car but at the moment you did not care. Your hand slid closer to his inner thighs making his muscles tense. You were getting a little too close to his groin now as you kissed him shutting him up. He kissed back hungrily despite his words and then your hand was running over his middle. You sighed into his lips, "Nobody has to know, just tonight."

Taehyung didn't put up much of a fight after that. He let you unzip his jeans and button. His hand was at your throat pulling you into him while his other hand trailed down your back. Your short skirt was a little too tempting to reach out and touch. He licked his lips when you kissed down the middle of his collarbone where the top buttons of his shirt were undone. With the first grade of your hand palming at his growing erection he groped at your butt in the skirt. He nodded with a lick of his lips, "Just tonight."

He couldn't stop the deep moan that he released when your hand dipped into his briefs. He was sporting a semi but with the first touch of your hand on his hardening cock. You still hadn't even looked down to notice he was thick and long. He felt heavy in your hand as you palmed over him, too dry to feel good so you brought your hand up. You held it to his chin and with his eyes locked on yours he spit into it watching you do the same before bringing it back down to his member. He jumped at the first feel of the slick grip you had on him now creating a wet slide around him. He was panting, it'd been way too long since the last time someone else touched him.

Also, it helped that it was past midnight and how far was well tinted so you couldn't see anything from the outside. The car wasn't even on anymore. His hips met your hand's efforts to jerk him off, moaning into your mouth as he grabbed a handful of ass. After some time you pulled away from him making sure to pull on his lips as you backed off watching him try and chase after you. He watched through lust filled eyes as you shunned further toward your door backing your butt up so you could lean over the middle console until you were face to face with his slick cock. He bit his lip in anticipation, no longer thinking about how wrong this was the second your tongue licked up a fat stripe up the length of his member.

"Is this alright, sir?" You asked holding his cock in a loose fist while you left soft kisses on his mushroom tip. Your tongue poked at the vein on his underside, rounded innocent eyes staring at him that he knew were anything but innocent. He'd never been with anyone this young, he'd never even thought about this before he'd been married for five years and dating for another four or five. She'd been the last women he was ever with and his relationships prior to her hadn't meant anything. Yet, here he was enjoying the warm tight feel of your mouth on him that had him forgetting everything wrong with this.

He licked his lips, "Y-Yes, but call me Taehyung." He liked hearing you call him sir too damn much but considering all his students call him that he couldn't think about it right now.

"Alright Taehyung," you leaned up to peck his lips in a quick kiss that had him craving more. Then you flashed him a mischievous smile before coming back down to his member, "I'm gonna suck your dick now."

Taehyung shudders out another velvety groan as your lips finally wrapped around his whole tip. Hips rise off the leather seat to meet your mouth hoping to get himself deeper.  Wet warmth around his length and he's gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles whiten. You're far from gentle. The flick of your tongue over a thick vein before lapping at the slit on his head with every bob. The gentle suck of the tip. You've never found so much pleasure from sucking a man's cock before, but then came your hot Professor. Nine years older than you, too young to be divorced, and the man he taught you about art all week. None of that matters though when it comes to the deep growls and husky moans he releases as a hand plays with the end of your panties. A thing paid of things he had to pull out your underwear, fingers running over your covered slit.

Taehyung had decided the moment you reached into his jeans that he wanted to fuck his student. He wanted to let out all his pent up sexual frustration on his pretty little student who was just so eager to take his cock in their mouth. Who would've known he would've broken his head long dry spell for some college pussy. He brought his hand back from your underwear sticking his fingers into his mouth to lather them in spit.

He groaned when he hit the back of your throat relishing in the tightness of your mouth as he slid his hand to your head again, pulling the poor excuse for underwear to let his finger run down your slit toward your clit. You were so fucking wet, stupid wet actually and it only turned him on more.

His finger brushed roughly against your skin, a moan escaping your throat that sent vibrations around his dick. Taehyung toyed with your clit feeling more slick being produced by his touch. It was so fucking hot. The sec with his wife had gotten boring and repetitive over the years but this felt new and exciting. You were attractive to him from your looks to your art work and it was all hitting him at once.

"That's it sweetheart, take it all in your mouth," Taehyung panted stopping his motions, but pressing down against your clit. Your head began to bob harshly now, sucking him into your mouth while your hand stroked whatever didn't felt. He was feeling close but with how tight you felt, he needed to stretch you.

Taehyung hummed, rubbing circles around your cunt, his thumb gently massaging your clit. "Am I making you this wet baby? Should I punish you for it?"

You moaned and whined as Taehyung's fingers slammed into you, while rubbing your clit. You caught him by surprise when you bounced your hips forcing his finger in and out of your cunt at a speed you wanted and it made him groan deep in his chest.

He didn't stop fucking your throat as you fucked yourself on his finger giving him time to push another in too. He wished he could see this from an outside point of you. This thirty year old man getting his dick milked dry by a hot twenty one year old art student of his while he stuck his fingers into their tight pussy. He was so close, honestly surprised he'd been holding off this long. When his fingers began to feel your walls relax around him he knew you were ready for him now.

"Think you can ride my cock sweetheart?" He asked brushing your hair out of your face as you slobbered all over his member. You didn't need to be asked twice as you popped off him feelings his fingers toy with your folds but no longer fingering you. He pushed his seat back to give you more room before reclining his seat back. He guided you over his lap watching as you didn't waste a second in lining himself up with your wet pussy.

"I'm on the pill sir," you said calling him that name again that had his cock twitching. He nodded pulling you in for another kiss as his hands found your waist sinking you down his length. You moaned into each other's mouths. You slowly raised your hips and sunk back down on him, and he tightened his grip on your throat just slightly pulling you away from the kiss. Your face pressed against each others in breathy moans of want as he began to bounce you on his cock while bucking his hips.

It had been awhile for the both of you, though he knows you probably hadn't waited as long as him. He'd been dry since his divorce while you just broke up with tour boyfriend weeks ago. He had a feeling you were always eager like this for sex, and you clearly knew what you were doing with your mouth too and it was just so hot. He was kneading your ass as your head rested on the crook of his neck. He was so close but he was trying to hold off for you. He resort to talking, "This is wrong, y'know?"

Even then he said it with a buck of his hips loving the way your plump wet walls felt around him, "Only bad girls jump on their teacher's cocks."

"Mm," you whined teasingly as you sucked love bites into his collarbone, "You gonna punish me sir?"

"Oh fuck," he moaned when your walls clenched around him intentionally, "Call me Taehyung, love."

"Taehyung," you moaned into his mouth moving onto a quick grind of your heads into each other, "I'm gonna cu—"

"Do it, do it now, fuck Y/n," he held you tighter getting a little rougher now as he reached up for the handlebar on the roof of the car and used it for leverage as he forced his hips off the seat to push more into you. With the new force you weren't lasting long, your release hit you like a tsunami making you shake around him as he held your chest against his. He didn't stop thrusting though, trying to get himself as close to orgasm before he had to pull out of your tight walls as they twitched around him.

You let him raise you off his cock as you sat back down in your seat adjusting your underwear that had been pulled to the side this entire time. You reached across him with a hand jerking him off using your own release as lube and he was fucking into your hand forcing your mouth back on his. With a low grunt and a shake of his hands, he was cumming. Thick drops of creamy cum fell around your hand like a flood. You didn't think much about it as you pulled away from his lips to cover his cock in your mouth licking him clean as best as you could.

After some time you moved off him awkwardly pulling your hair out of your face as you cleared your throat. He tucked himself back in nervously as he adjusted his seat back up looking at his disheveled reflection. He couldn't even look at you, not because he didn't want to stare at your beauty but because it really was wrong. He was your college professor for fuck's same. It didn't matter his strong attraction toward you. What mattered is that he was in a place of authority and could easily lose his job and probably ruin your reputation. He couldn't do that to you but he really wanted you.

"I should probably head inside now," you said shyly as you grabbed your bag opening the door. Taehyung didn't say anything nodding his head watching you leave. He hated the fact that he looked at the length of your legs as you left. It wasn't right.

By Monday morning Taehyung wasn't sure what to think anymore. After the crazy night with you on Saturday it was all he could think about on Sunday. He met up with his friends for brunch and he couldn't help but rant. It didn't do him any favors that they knew something was wrong with him since the beginning. He ended up being honest and telling them that the bartender was his student and that they hooked up in his car.

At first they had been extremely confused by it all but Taehyung already felt guilty on his own as it was, he didn't need them making him feel worse. He expected them to slap him or tell him that he should never do it again. But they didn't say that. Instead they filled his head with possibilities that should never even be thought off.

"In reality you two are adults and didn't you say she's a third year? She'll graduate in a year so really there's nothing wrong with it," Jimin tried reasoning, "She wanted to do it right? Look, I'm just happy you got your dick wet. We both know it's been way too long, plus nobody is saying you have to keep seeing your student. It was just a one night hiccup."

He had to tell himself over and over again that it was just one night. He was thankful that when you walked into class you were in the middle of a discussion when another girl from the class. The two of you were talking so much you merely walked past his desk without a stolen glance. Good, it seemed like you had no intention on more. Great. Amazing. It was the right thing.

Today a male model would be brought in for you all to paint. He had a sheet draped over his intimates and once the assignment was started you put all your focus on it. You were supposed to use him to sketch a person and then use your own art style to tell a story. You tried not looking to your professor in case he felt awkward about Saturday. You kind of did.

Mostly because you could still feel his lips on yours and it made you nervous. You spent all of Sunday in your room trying not to freak out but you just felt so stupid. It felt unbelievably good for him but you knew it wasn't right.

"I swear to god these stupid fingers are pissing me off," your friend Yuna whined as she had to erase more charcoal. Neither one of you noticed the professor making his rounds to check on all the sketches down so far.

"Think about which perspective you're using and the proportion of his hands where he has them placed," Mr. Kim told her pointing to areas that seemed off. You could feel your heart race when he made his move to you next. He was hesitant at first to speak to you, just standing behind your stool watching your sketch and he only stepped closer when he had advice.

"Pay a little more attention to the line of his body, focus on proportions too and use more shadowing,” he said pointing at spots in your painting. It felt like he was too close but neither one of you were actually bothered by it. In the mix of slight regret there was also this strong wanting for a recreation of that night. Neither one of you would actually go for it though. Right? Not again?

He looked down to make sure you were listening, your eyes lcking for a moment before you both looked away nervously at the realization of your proximity. He didn't notice the way his tongue ran over his lips before biting down on his bottom one in remembrance. You're wearing the perfume from the other night.

Clearing his throat, Taehyung looked away from you standing straight again, "But other than that it looks like you have more done than others, thank you for focusing better today."

"Of course sir," you said absentmindedly looking back to your sketch too. It took him a second to move away. He'd never felt so damn embarrassed at the fact that he had to focus so hard on not getting turned on and breaking a sweat. This is exactly why he asked you to call him Taehyung only but of course you would slip up since you were used to referring to him with the honorific. But right now he could only think about what you'd said to him that faithful night.

"You gonna punish me sir?"

Looking down at you nobody would ever guess you'd say something like that but he knew you did. He heard you say it and he really liked it—

"Sir do you mind taking a look at mine?" A student asked snapping him out of his thoughts. He had to look around to find where he was still a couple feet behind. He didn't bother responding as he started working that way not noticing the way your eyes followed after him making you smudge a mark across your paper. With a small annoyed huff you worked on cleaning it up again.

After class you were one of the last to leave the room. You've been thinking about him nonstop but because of the positions you're in, you shouldn't. But in reality, you were two adults who happened to have sex. There was a sense of sexual attraction and honestly, hooking up with someone other than your ex definitely did something to you. Considering the fact that he definitely seemed affected by your presence in class, you found yourself staying another late evening at the studio making sure Taehyung saw you the next time he passed by the room.

He did see you again a couple hours later. He was locking up his classroom ready to leave at the end of the day finding you through the door's window. His steps faltered, head turning as he looked at his surroundings. Then, he was pushing the door open letting himself into the studio. The other side of the room was all glass windows since it face the courtyard but it was dark out there. In the room all the lights were off too minus a lamp by your table and a light above the sink.

You turned instantly with the sound of the door finding him standing by it. He ran his fingers through his hair that had been casually combed back. His other hand was stuffed in the pocket of his corduroy slacks with his tote bag hanging off his shoulder. He licked his lips nervously, "I just came to let you know that the custodian will be around."

"Thank you for the reminder sir," you said with your back to him to hide a playful smile, "Or is it Taehyung? I forgot."

His breath hitched as he stared at you from across the room. You turned to look at him, the lamp above your head creating a shadow in your facial feature but appearing like a spotlight only for you. It made him feel further into the shadow at the corner he stood. He really wanted you, but it just didn't feel like he should. He was your mentor. He was nine years older. You were a college student and he was your teacher. It definitely wasn't right. But he was just so attracted to you in this moment.

"Well it depends on what we're doing," he answered absentmindedly realizing a second too late his response was flirty. He had no reason to be in the studio at this moment but he made up an excuse to go in anyway just because he wanted to see you again.

When you finished cleaning up you were walking toward him. He looked down at you through a hazy gaze as you reached for the door handle pulling it open. Taehyung simply followed behind calmly as you spoke, "Did you have a good weekend?"

His pace slowed for a second trying to unravel your question and the subtle approach you took. He's quickly realizing you're a bit promiscuous. Your nonchalant hints of something more that only he could understand but everyone else thought nothing of it. You were a tease but you hid it so well. He thought for a moment about how to word his response, "My weekend was great, and yours?"

"Oh it was really fun," you answered as the two of you walked down the path through the courtyard, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it."

"Mhm," Taehyung hummed in acknowledgment looking around again to see if anyone was around, "I can imagine what that's like. Hopefully you have more like it."

Your eyes met in a side glance as the split in the sidewalk separating the parking lot from your bus stop. He played with his keys like he did the night at the lounge bar, "Going to wait for a bus?"

"That's the plan unfortunately, unless someone were to come around and take me home," you said with a shrug looking away from him the further you walked down your split sidewalks. Teahyungs voice the further he got from you, "I'm sure someone would love to drive you home."

So you said your farewells and you sat at the bus stop nervously. Maybe you were a little too obvious with you felt and he was probably worried. He most likely regretted getting involved with you.

Of course that was the opposite. He knew he shouldn't but really it was because of the university. Aside from that there was nothing wrong with being attracted to someone younger. You were both adults. That's why he was rushing to his car pulling out of the driveway and going around the corner to the bus stop. He waited a few yards back from the bus stop flashing his emergency lights at you and in an instant you were up and walking to the car. He rolled the window down flashing you a smile as you opened the door.

He did end up giving you a lift but it wasn't to your apartment, it was to his.

        "I don't know if I'm going crazy, but I've got this feeling that you're seeing someone," Jungkook told you with narrowed eyes. He was currently walking you to your class before going home. He always had shorter days than you and Bora since he worked in the afternoon but he always hung out with you two.

"I'm not seeing anyone," you told him simply as the two of you walked along the sidewalk. Jungkook just hummed in acknowledgment as he carried your canvas for you.

"Yeah, sure you aren't," Jungkook responded, "You don't have to tell me if it's supposed to be a secret. Is it supposed to be a secret? Oh my god are you dating someone in a relationship?"

"Why would I become a homewrecker when I've been cheated on?" You asked him clearly displeased with his assumption. He shrugged staring down the hall to the studio, "I'm just curious why you're keeping it on the low. Is he like, not someone you should be with?"

"I'm pretty sure I told you I'm not seeing anyone," you responded back to him entering your classroom. Taehyung was standing at his desk watching everyone walk in when he noticed the same tatted guy helping you with your canvas.

"Jungkook! Hey man, what are you doing here?" One of the other students called out to him. It was Seungjin, he was in your department and you knew each other better through Jungkook. Occasionally you'd talk but not always. He came over to where you and Jungkook were to talk as you got all your things settled.

Taehyung found you standing in the middle of two guys smiling over whatever they said watching the one with tattoos pull you into his side. Technically, class hasn't started but he can't stand the sight. Just a couple days ago you were wrapped in your professor's bedsheets sleeping soundly next to him. Now you're here with two guys your own age who were making you smile and laugh.

He shouldn't be surprised you had a lot of male friends. You were clearly well known around campus and people always approached you during class. Even at your job he found all the guys behind the counter trying to impress you with whatever. Even Jimin and Yoongi commented on your looks so really, this was normal. You had a boyfriend before of six months who cheated on you—which Taehyung would never understand why—but you also told him about other past relationships. Taehyung felt like he was different than your usual type and though he could say the same about you, right now he's getting annoyed.

He smiled down at the papers on his desk but it was anything but genuine. It was a forced smile to remind himself it was alright. It's not like you two could be forward with what's happening, not until you at least graduate next spring. As his class began to fill he finally had the nerve to approach you. If he could just get any guy your age away from you that'd be great. He was 30, he couldn't compete with all the college guys who surrounded you, had the same energy as you, got the same references. Taehyung's a millennial for Christ's sake, you're a Gen Z.

He made his round toward you well calculated. He greeted other students along the way to seem natural before he zoned in on where you were. He got close enough just in time to hear his student, Seungjin, speak, "Let's go drinking tonight, bring Hoseok with too. He hasn't been around in a while."

"Alright so us three and Hoseok? Should I tell Bora too?" Jungkook asked.

"Gentlemen, I'm sure you can continue this conversation outside of the art room," Taehyung's voice was bitter. He didn't want you going out with three guys tonight. He wants to order pizza for the two of you while you go into detail about your art piece for the Spring exhibition at your place. It was definitely a college student's place. He only went in the morning he dropped you off home after spending the night with him. You invited him in for a drink and he was too curious to say no.

Compared to his neat, bachelor pad, yours was chaotic. His place was clean, dark, and modern. Yours was ecliptic, slightly unorganized with paints and brushes everywhere. Thick woven throw blankets and patterned pillows. Hanging plants that were halfway between dying and thriving. You had vinyls piled in a corner with books. You had colored LED lamps, it was basically like a hippie fest at your place. He liked it though, compared to his place yours was warm and welcoming. He liked that he could see little pieces of you everywhere he turned.

When he first moved into his own place it felt cold. He never lived on his own like that. From his childhood when he lived with his family to college when he lived with roommates and finally when he lived with his ex wife.

Jungkook looked up at your professor who seemed slightly out of focus staring at your canvas. Jungkook's never gotten an up close look at him but Bora was right, he was an attractive guy and you seemed slightly awkward now that he was here. He looked between you two, his best friend senses tingling when he watched the way Taehyung bit into his lower lip when you brushed your fingers through your hair. Seungjin was too busy apologizing to the man telling him they'll get right to work.

"Sorry Professor Kim, I'll get going now," Jungkook said warily as he went and shoved your head to the side playfully, "Am I picking you up after?"

Before you could respond Taehyung was cutting in, "Actually I've asked miss Y/n to stay behind, we've got some discussing to do about her piece for the Spring Art Exhibit."

Obviously he hadn't but you didn't even dare to deny his claims looking to Jungkook, "I'll text you, go, you're interrupting class time."

"Once again, I apologize sir, I'll be leaving now," Taehyung had to resist the urge to roll his eyes as he nodded. Jungkook bowed respectfully before turning around to leave, glancing back at you two to catch your Professor glaring at Seungjin who was pulling his things closer to you.

Jackpot, Jungkook thought when his eyes caught sight of a small purple bruise peaking out from under the collar of the professor's shirt. He was clearly seeing someone too and Jungkook's curious to know who.

Taehyung returned to the front of the room after continuing his round around his students and started his lecture on surrealism. Seungjin sat next to you now that he'd been talking to you and Jungkook and you didn't mind. You'd hung out with him a few times outside of class and he was fun to be around. Still though, you couldn't focus on what he would say when you were so focused on Taehyung.

Had he been jealous because of them? Or was he annoyed that you were delaying class time? After class would he keep you around to tell you, 'Just because we're having sex doesn't mean you can do whatever you want in my class' or was that just an excuse so Jungkook wouldn't be able to pick you up?

"Sir if it's alright with you, I'd like to discuss my work for the exhibit too," another student pointed out at the end of class. Taehyung huffed in annoyance as he looked up to find you waiting as well. You looked away, "I could always come after my last class? That way you two could discuss privately?"

He tried hiding his smile. Obviously he wanted you alone, not with another student there so he nodded in agreement watching you leave. He had to work on keeping things lowkey. You're way better at it than he is. To be fair he's been out of the game for ten years and he never had to keep a relationship a secret before.

"Perfect! I was just coming to find you, are you coming with Jungkook and I to find costumes for the party this weekend?" Bora asked once you'd left the classroom.

"What party?" You asked confused. She gasped dramatically, "The costume party! Halloween in Spring, as Hobi calls it. Jungkook's waiting by the gate."

"I've still got one more class and then I've gotta meet Professor Kim and talk about the Spring Exhibit," you told her.

Bora laughed, "Yeah you should have your discussion while riding his face."

"What?" You sounded on edge and it only made Bora laugh harder.

"I'm kidding obviously, but I'd gladly sit on his face," Bora said with a shrug, "Alrighty then, text me later and I can go shopping with you tomorrow if you don't have time today. Jungkook and I are just going to get an idea before we meet up with the others tonight for drinks."

"K, bye love you," you waved her goodbye as you went to your last class for the day. You couldn't focus on it though, not when you kept thinking about Taehyung. That's why the second it was over you were rushing over to his room.

Luckily there was no one around when you let yourself in and he barely gave you a glance before pointing to a box of painting palettes, "Mind helping carry those to the storage room?"

You nodded taking the box as he took another one before walking you to the back of the room. He opened the door to storage room and let you in first looking around through the windows to make sure nobody was watching. Then, he entered closing the two of you in as you set the boxes down. The second he turned to you, you were jumping in his arms. Taehyung's hands went to your waist holding you up as your lips met in a hungry kiss that had him groaning in want.

After some time kissing like that he set you back down but his arms didn't leave your waist keeping you close. He looked down at you, "What are you doing this weekend? Let's go out of town."

You made a pout that had his eyes rounding in curiosity and anticipation searching yours for answers. You looked down hugging around his middle section, "My friend's throwing this costume party on Saturday and everyone I know is going. If I don't go they're going to get suspicion."

"Well just tell them you'll be seeing someone but you're keeping it private," he said hopefully squeezing you in his hold a little more. You just fit so perfectly in his arms despite the taboo of it all.

"I've tried but they won't quit. Trust me, once Jungkook and Bora get suspicious that's a wrap. Jungkook is like a ducking detective when it comes to other people's business," you explained watching the way his jaw clenched as he looked away from you sadly. You rested your head on him, "What about next weekend? Are you free then?"

"I'm free, I can make reservations now," Taehyung said biting his lip, "Alright I'll go out first, make sure the coast is clear."

You nodded watching him turn to the door before stopping to look back at you, "Since I can't spend the weekend with you, maybe you can give me tonight? We can order in, watch a movie..." He seemed strangely nervous as he spoke.

Jungkook and Seungjin did make dinner plans tonight but you didn't care much about that. You'd rather get laid and spend the night with a guy who interests you. You don't want to jump into things so quickly because you could easily get hurt. It didn't change the fact that you felt safe and comfortable with him. Even when you just saw him as a mentor, yeah he could be strict but he was also very good at consolation. He'd constantly tell you how talented you were and that you shouldn't forget that even when you're feeling down.

Then obviously you're getting closer to him so it's not bad to want to spend time together. Were you dating? Not that you know of? Would you consider him to be the only man you're sleeping with? Yes. Could say that same about him to you? Probably? He didn't seem like the type to mess around with just anyone and you've been talking on the phone on nights you can't see each other.

"Then, should I wait for you down the street?" You asked once he signed that the coast was clear. You both left the room stalling as you got to the door.

"Of course, make sure you do your school work too."

"Yes sir, I'll work on it tonight," you said as the two of you stood outside now. He bit his lip to hide a smile, "Well have a good night."

"You two, thank you," you said your goodbyes as you walked in opposite directions. Then, like a constant cycle, he was picking you up in his car.

On Friday night you spent the night at Taehyung's place. It's crazy how quick the two of you have progressed but it didn't feel forced. It's like, when it was just you two you could forget about the fact he was your professor. Even when he'd quite literally tutor you for some of your required course it didn't feel like he was your teacher.

The main reason you spent the night is because you wouldn't be able to see him this weekend other than Saturday morning. Tonight you'll have Hobi's party and you had to work Sunday and Monday night. You had already dedicated next week as crunch time for your paintings so you really weren't going to be seeing him outside of class and the art studio.

So, he drove you about fifty minutes out of the city to some expensive rooftop restaurant for lunch. You wanted to spend as much of today as you could with him before Bora would be getting to your house to get ready for tonight. The restaurant was far enough and way too expensive for any of your class mates to be here so it was the perfect place for a nice lunch date. Taehyung clearly had money from his career and his parents so it wasn't a question that he'd want to treat you to something nice. He wore a YSL cream colored button up shirt and black slacks while you wore a little black dress.

The two of you walked in with linked arms letting the hostess lead you to a table while you talked. You look extra pretty today. You wore light make up that accentuated your features and your hair was styled in a way that really suited you. He couldn't keep his eyes off you, if he could he would've noticed the waking nightmare about to cross paths with him.

"Tae?" His blood ran cold as the two of you looked up, the hostess waiting at your table for the two of you. You stared at the woman and man in front of you. She looked you up and down and you did the same shamelessly. She had black hair up to her shoulders and bright red lipstick. She wore a white blouse and grey pencil skirt. An ugly pencil skirt in your opinion.

"Jihyun..." Taehyung cleared his throat and it didn't take you long to realize who this woman was. The man was quiet but he looked uncomfortable yet you felt his eyes travel down to your exposed legs. You knew this must be his ex wife and you expected Taehyung to take his arm away from your hold. It must be awkward for him to be seen with you. You were obviously sticking out from the more mature group in appearance.

"Oh, uh, it's nice to see you doing well," Jihyun said with a forced smile. You wondered if the man was the coworker she cheated on Taehyung with. His arm almost pulled you even closer to his side, "Yes, I am doing well. Oh, this is Y/n."

You gave them a tight smile leaning into Taehyung more. He smiled at that, "It looks like our table is ready so we'll get going now."

"Was that your ex?" You asked once the two of you were to the table. Taehyung nodded before flashing you a smile, "But let's not think about that. This is our first official date so let's make the most of it before we have to get going."

Without thinking you leaned across the table and placed a soft kiss on his cheek before going back to looking at the menu. Before the food arrived you excused yourself to the restroom. It was windy and you could not have your hair all over the place. While you were in there you reapplied a light layer of lipgloss as a stall opened.

You couldn't believe your luck when the cheating hag—you mean Jihyun—came out. It made you smile a little as you wiped up the corners of your lips. She gave you a look as she went to wash her stupid musty hands right next to you.

"Taehyung seems to be doing well lately," Jiyeon said washing her hands. It was the second time she'd said it like she expected him to be crying in his room, "I've known him for a very long time an—"

"I don't really care how long you've known him," you flashed her a perfectly fake smile, "And of course he's doing well. Why wouldn't he?"

Jihyun pursed her lips in annoyance, "I'm surprised when he didn't introduce you as someone he's seeing. He only said your name, it's very strange."

If Taehyung wasn't going to do anything that's alright but she's clearly judging your appearance and possibly your age and relationship with him too.

"I really like your skirt," you added with another fake smile, "Only some women can pull off that kind of look. Unfortunately it's not for me, it's too bland?"

She scoffed as she ran her hands under the sink water, "It's office attire, but you look a little too young to know anything about that."

"Oh to be young and beautiful, do you miss those days?" You said finally closing your little handbag. In fact she was only 30 but if she was going to act like this then you would too. You ran your fingers through your hair one last time and check the back of your dress in the mirror, "I'll go first since Tae is waiting for me."

You began to walk away, Jihyun stayed at the mirror for a second trying to process what is happening. You must've been more important than she thought because it looked like you clearly knew who she was. You were bitchy but that wasn't the main problem. The main problem was that you were... everything Jihyun wished she could be when she was younger. She doesn't know your age but Taehyung was surprised he could even attract someone like you. The Taehyung she knew would never be into someone like you.

He had always had a sort of timid, mysterious nature on the outside and Jihyun had been the same. That's why it was so easy for them two to get close so long ago. Jihyu had always felt insecure when it came to the confident appearance as girls like you but Taehyung always assured her he never cared for looks like that. Clearly that been nothing but a lie if he is with you.

She barely made it out the restroom's entrance when she stopped in her tracks.

She had a clear view of your table, right by the glass ledge of the rooftop. Taehyung's smile was bright as he laughed over something you said and when she looked closer his hand was in yours.

He had never been the type to be openly affectionate. It had been years since he last looked at her that way. Maybe it was her mind playing tricks on her but Taehyung had never looked at her with that gleam in his eyes like he was giving you.

"Can I come over tonight?" You asked tracing swils with your finger on his hand, "After the party I mean or will that be too late?"

You're not sure if Taehyung seeing his ex actually affected him or if he was genuinely okay but whatever it was you wanted to make sure he was okay. He already told you he'd be playing tennis later with his friends but later tonight maybe he'd want to see you.

"Hm, it will be late but I can pick you up from the party if you don't care. I don't want you driving a cab so late especially if you'll be drinking," he said as he used his free hand to eat while the other held yours.

"Aw, sir aren't you just so sweet? Maybe we can reenact our first night together in my bunny costume tonight," you said it to tease him but you were also being serious. He was so attractive you swear you could just eat him up.

Taehyung nearly choked on his water but he couldn't help but smile, "it's barely noon and you're already thinking of that?"

He felt the tip of your foot against his leg, pulling on his pant leg teasingly. You gave him an innocent smile, "No, I just think about you and then I think about how much I want you."

He placed a kiss to your knuckles, "Always so eager."

"For you."

::.

this flopped so bad last time so pls YALL 😭

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