#being someone they feel safe with is a big one

[girl-lostconnection]

FRUIT BAT READER

I give you roosting.

Ghost likes it because pack behaviors. Price likes it for the "ah yes, these ones are mine, now they smell like me" thing. They're inclined to to upside down things but will settle for being in the same room, taking a nap or just hanging out.

BUT I ALSO RAISE YOU

Wing blanket/wing fan. Wrapping up in their wings when it's a bit chilly and fanning their wings when it's too hot.

Kyle would be the biggest ambassador of wing blankets — that’s why he sleeps on top of these guys because he’s like “these are mine, gotta cover these so they are safe” and the pack is like “Kyle your wings and you for that matter are heavy AS FUCK, get OFF, brother” and he’s like “no:)”

But yeah both Price and Simon are big fans of having the whole pack in one place and close to them, because it just feels safer to them and it scratches the primal part of their brains the right way.

I also headcanon Simon to be someone who’s a big fan of laying together and cuddling, his hands wrapped tightly around the mate, nose pressed to their neck, lazy bites here and there. It’s comfortable, it’s warm, they smell like him afterwards.

I’d even go as far to say that he and Price have kind of shifts so the pack smells like one of them at all times. Kind of like mark on them that these are taken, these guys have pack and have mates “do NOT touch”

Also when it comes to them, they just plop himself down which means that usually Kyle will plop himself on top of one of them. Which means Soap is coming with Reader in tow cause it’s time to scent the these two big boys (*happy dance*).

Soap is gonna bite affectionately, a little too much saliva but Price would never complain. Reader’s way to show affection would be nuzzling and grooming.

Ghost is gonna be the main recipient because I’m sorry but constant mask on does nothing good for his skin.

Reader can sense it.

Hind part of their brain says that badly groomed mate means they are not taking care of mate means mate might eat less. Ghost is just happy to be there regardless of bat shenanigans but he is sometimes protesting just for the sake of it.

“Luv, im clean”

“Mhm”, doesn’t even stop their grooming, thin claws working through his fur where they can reach.

“Luv, come on”

“Uh-uh”, just keeps going with Simon’s head in their lap. His tail is wagging, he’s sleepy and comfortable and he knows that mate is also comfortable because they melt into him. Ghost is a walking furnace and bats huddle together for warmth because they lose heat easily and he will never admit but he fucking loves when they do it.

Shows that they know he’s safe, that he’s part of their group, that even primal part of them thinks of him as of family.

[ghost-proofbaby]

thinking about Eddie being so eager to kiss you all the time and he just gets a little too excited sometimes a little too rough and you bump into something and he cradles you while you giggle cause he can't stop smiling into his kisses

And sure maybe it's a little awkward and teeth knock against each other and he catches your lip in his teeth a little too hard but it's okay cause you're deliriously happy

And it's not about getting to the sex (not all the time anyways) but he's just so happy to have found a safe place to land and he's enthusiastic that he found someone who wants to kiss him just as much as he wants to kiss you

And this time he's not too much and his feelings aren't too big and he doesn't need to tone it down cause you're his person and he's yours

Okay bye ily

mouse. mouse get the fuck back here. MOUSE DONT LEAVE ME LIKE THIS

he's just so happy to have a safe place to land and this time he's not too much and his feelings aren't too big were daggers straight to my heart you come back here right now before i actually bleed out from needing this man so badly.

no but thats exactly it. eddie has spent so long jumping and toeing that line of either trying to cram himself into this bite-sized shape for the ones around him, and just exploding and pretending he doesn't give a fuck that he will never fit into anyone's cup of tea so he'll just make himself even larger, that when you enter his life he just doesnt know what to do about it.

because he starts with his regular tricks of being so over the top, so unbearable, and all you're doing is laughing and entertaining his antics. even playing along at times. and so he retracts a little, turning back into a quiet boy who will shrivel up until he's invisible or easy to love (whichever comes first). but then that doesn't work - and to be truthful, he doesn't even know what his mind's end goal is here because why is he trying to push you away so desperately? - and he's just at a loss. you want him on the thundering days, where he makes his grey clouds everyone's problem and all his lightning is blinding and sporadic. you want him on the quiet days, where the downpour is no longer a roar but a soft drizzle, a bit more silent and a bit more bearable but still there. and he can't tell if it's a joke - he can't decipher if your kisses amidst his rambles are sincere, if you're actually smiling at his jokes because you like him or you're too polite to break his heart. he can't see through those gentle hands you use to caress back his wild hair to be sure that the softest of touches are really just you, or some strange gloves of care that you're only simply wearing for now.

and then one morning, he wakes up, and you're still there, awake before he is and just watching him with so much love. feather-light fingers taking their time tracing over his tattoo on his chest and arms, not noticing he's awake yet as you smile so serenely at him. you're looking at him in a way that he's never really gotten to experience so vulnerably before - like he isn't a nuisance, isn't a mistake. like the universe has so intentionally dropped him into your palms, and you're so aware of how delicate he can be below the surface. and he just breaks.

"i love you"

he'd blurt it out, the first time he's ever said those words to you. it almost feels like the first time he's said those words, period.

he's said them to wayne, in their own way, both a bit stiff in expressing affection and skirting around those words whenever they can for a simply ruffle of hair or unexpected side hugs. he'd said them to his mom, a young boy with shining eyes despite it all, looking at her like she was the world because she was his world.

and... well. that's it. he can count the number of times he's said those words on one hand, and now he's said them to you, and all he can hope is you handle them with as much care as you've handled him.

he hopes you can feel the weight of his heart pressing down on them.

and he thinks you do, when you startle a little, looking up to his lips where those rough words had just fallen from in a cracking tone, and you take your time in awarding him with a smile that could save lives. cure cancer, cure sadness, cure the end of the world even. every cliche possible.

"yeah?" you'd whisper back, and his heart skips a beat, terrified that the next words you say won't be what he needs to hear so desperately. but they are. because of course they are. you wouldn't have been watching him sleep in that way if they hadn't been on the tip of your tongue, "i love you."

not a crash landing, but a soft-padded decent. a slow fall with a cushion to prevent broken bones and more invisible scars.

he kisses you then the way he was going to kiss you every day going forward: pushing forward recklessly, teeth and noses bumping a little, smiles making it nearly impossible. he kisses you like he's coming home after a long day, because he is.

he's home. no boxes in sight to fit into, no cups that'll overflow from all the fizzling feelings pouring out of his chest. you've got him, and he's got you.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi, I hope this is an okay question to ask. I am s l o w l y exploring and learning what kinds of kinks I like. I’m drawn to taboo kinks and I’m really curious about ageplay, but I’m worried that if I open the door to letting that be hot, I’m going to start seeing actual kids as hot. Obviously that doesn’t mean I would do anything about it, but I’m still not sure I want that in my head. Is there any truth in this fear? Could that happen?

well much in the same way that the majority of pup players aren't trying to hump real labradors on the street, D&D players generally aren't running around pulling swords on random shopkeepers, and my years doing Warriors Cats rp online never made me want to live in the woods pissing in the dirt and eating mice, I suspect that what you're attracted to is the safety of fantasy and play rather than the actual, literal thing. pretty big line between those two things, actually, and most people are pretty clear on the difference between stuff that's made up and harmless and stuff that's really really bad. I use this example often, but I assure you that my abiding love of Batman using his billions of dollars to dick around doing lawless bullshit has not softened my feelings on Elon Musk in the slightest.

I assume that, like most well-adjusted adults, you aren't attracted to children. what you're into is, presumably, adults acting in ways that are characterized as immature, carefree, cutesy, helpless, bratty, etc, and the dynamic of those playacting adults might have with others who take the role of their caregivers. that is... so, so, so far removed from being attracted to an actual human child. I don't know if you've ever actually, like, hung out with kids, but they're pretty different than adults. I mean obviously they're little humans who have their own opinions and ideas and personalities and have a right to autonomy and making their own decisions as much as is safely possible, but they are REALLY different from age appropriate, sexually compatible adults. someone doing ageplay is, like, a million miles from an actual kid.

it's kind of like how when Riverdale was on I'd see gifs of that insane redheaded lesbian and go "yeah, she's hot." like, sure, the character's a teenager, but that actress is an adult woman who's only two years younger than me and we all know that. the idea of fucking an actual teenager is vile. even if I were to see someone and have an initial aesthetic appreciation, the second they open their mouth and start saying 17 year old things the attraction is gone because I've realized that's a child.

(no offense to the teens in the room! you're great and I'm sure your 17 year old stuff is really important to you! but adults should not want to fuck you, is the point.)

so what I'm saying is: seems unlikely!

also, okay. let's assume the absolute worst case scenario happens and you experience a twinge of sexual interest towards a child. that's understandably alarming; that's not an urge most people want to harbor within themselves. that may require some dialing back from ageplay, or a chat with a kink-friendly mental health professional, or seeking out some community and advice from others in your kink scene who may have struggled with something similar. but please, give yourself some credit: you have some shred of impulse control within your body, yes? you're not going to make the leap from having a thought to being an active child predator in one fell swoop. the choice to harm a child, or to seek out pornographic material of child sexual abuse, are still choices that you would have to actually make. and it's making those choices to do harm that actually make child abusers a danger, not just having thoughts. having a thought all by itself doesn't hurt anyone; it's the way you act on it that has the potential to cause harm.

but again, I want to emphasize, sexual behavior is by and large a pretty easy wire not to get crossed with other things. please note the brave billions of people who manage to get through every day without groping their colleagues and random strangers because they understand it's not the appropriate time, place, or partner!

[urge4divinty]

Your ex’s hidden feelings about you ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

pac tarot reading paired with intuition, take what resonates and remember energy can always change readings aren’t set in stone. + their signs or dominant placements

3 cards pulled for each pile ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ gender neutral

Pile 1

the first thing i feel before even pulling cards is warmth, a warm feeling? maybe they felt that with you and it was something they miss deeply they can’t find that in someone else so they might be completely tweaking out about the kind of warmth you brought them. song i’m also channeling is just dance by lady gaga? “wish i shut my playboy mouth—control your poison, babe, roses have thrones they say”

after pulling cards the exs hidden feelings give a very “i need to be soul searching after you”they are alone and possibly becoming independent in a introspective state. dealing with insecurity and trying to understand their inner feelings it confuses them how hurt they are and they never expected to be—they are trying to distract themselves so they might be in a hustling state where they obsess with work/or obsess over material possessions. i’m getting heavy insecurity they’re not able to express how they feel nor do they want to their usually assertiveness is muted, they feel imbalanced like maybe you weren’t giving a even amount? could be hesitant due to past hurts. they’d invest in the connection again if they felt it was safe to right now they struggle with vulnerability. guarded, uncertain, wanting clarity? signs: leo virgo taurus/libra

donut pile what’s teaaaa omg

Pile 2

the first thing i feel is slight annoyance? like very annoyed—it’s this energy of being slightly bothered. the song that came on while thinking of pile 2 was off to the races by lana del rey “god , i’m so crazy baby i’m sorry that misbehaving” oh?? “i need you i breathe you ill never leave you” “i love you forever? not maybe you are my one true love”

After pulling cards their hidden feelings is definitely defeat? like they lost something big? could’ve been married or just a really committed and serious relationship it gives a loving bond, or was loving such a “i wanted to propose to them i wanted marriage” oh they are in deeeeeep dude. but they are trying to seem stoic like they aren’t totally sick but they don’t seem like they’ll openly express any of this. they still think of you as their ideal partner!! but the ending was so painful for them they feel emotionally done and still hold on to the memories of you two. forcing themselves to accept that it’s actually over. signs: aries cancer/pisces gemini/scorpio

Pile 3

this piles energy is so different from the rest? its almost unexplainable it’s like they don’t know what they feel but they definitely know what they lost “i feel stupid” popped into my head.

after pulling cards i’m getting that they are having a lot of thoughts about you they have a strong urge to reach out to say something replaying conversations thinking of what they SHOULD of said or done to make a difference. they might’ve been emotionally detached while with you but after you left they got out of this state with a quickness they stopped ignoring their feelings and now they feel regret—they are becoming aware of what this relationship meant to them lots of self reflection going on for them and they are understanding their role of what happened, they feel pulled towards closure they want to try again tbh. their feelings are active and shifting going from indifference to “oh shit i lost them” they see the relationship in a way they didn’t see before this urge to reach out could be impulsive they are rushing into it to say their piece it’s chaotic and not at all well thought out so it could lead to aggressive communication.

signs: gemini/libra/aquarius cancer scorpio

[zealouswitchwerewolf]

Tim didn't know what had made him decide to give Damian another chance. If he had to guess, he'd say it was a collection of small moments instead of one big life-changing one. The way Damian was gentle with the animals at the farm, taking care of them in any way they needed without waiting to be asked or caring about dirtying his clothes. It was about the secret smiles Damian got when he thought no one was watching. How he helped the Kents around the house with excitement, delighted to learn new skills instead of annoyed at being put to work. He saw his need to be of use even when no one required it. He was so small. He had seen him struggle to reach things all around the kitchen while trying to help, too shy to ask for a stool, too stubborn to give up.

He was just a kid. A kid with assassin training and a lifetime of trauma but a kid nonetheless. Looking back to his early days at the manor, he could see the insecurity in his actions against Tim. The way he had acted out of fear instead of real aggression. Bruce hadn't helped. Too busy with Jason and the league and Batman to raise a child, or the last 4 for that matter. Damian had received no reassurances of his place in the family. No way to know if he would be allowed to stay without carving a place for himself. Tim understood it better now that he had seen the inner workings of the league. The realization had come gradually but it had stayed on the back of his mind, making him feel like he was missing something. It had gotten him to pay more attention to the kid.

That was how he had finally seen what was bothering him. It was in the small gestures. The minute flinches he displayed every time he was shown affection, the way he seemed to lean towards any kind of friendly touch for the first few seconds only to step away from it as soon as he realized what he was doing. Tim could see his walls were up almost all the time, even while knowing he was in a safe space. At first he had thought it was because of him. Eventually he realized it was another part of his training. That's when he realized Damian still felt like every single moment was a test of some kind. The uncertainty around his undefined position in the family still preventing him from relaxing, even now that he had Robin.

The kid was desperate for affection and clearly touch starved but couldn't let himself lower his guard enough to get what he needed. Hugs didn't help either. It opened him to too many attacks and he could not relax while knowing he was vulnerable in more ways than one. He could see the kid's anxiety skyrocket whenever the Kents initiated one. He hoped it was different with Dick, the two of them had formed a deep connection. Either way, it wasn't enough.

It got worse when the Waynes had their falling out. Tim knew the hero community had decided to shield him but it didn't stop him from keeping informed. He was well aware of the moment things blew up on their face after they realized Bruce's words were just that. Hollow and not backed by Bruce's beliefs. His love was very much conditional and his affection given sparsely.

It was something that wouldn't change unless Bruce put some serious effort into maturing his emotional intelligence and realigning his priorities. Tim didn't see it happening any time soon. He had finally accepted there was not much he could do about it. Not really. He had been trying for years at the expense of his health and sanity and the best he had accomplished was giving him a superficially happy family with such a fragile foundation that it had taken just one small blow to tear the illusion apart. He couldn't fix someone that didn't think there was anything wrong with his current way of life. Leaving was one of the hardest things he had done but he didn't regret it.

That said, he still felt partially responsible. He knew Bruce's mess was his own and Tim shouldn't have to be there to clean it. Dick and Jason were all grown up and perfectly capable of making their own choices. Cass, Steph, Barbara and Duke had all moved on and found communities where they fit in with people they cared about out of the family. They were thriving. Damian, however, was still a child. He didn't have as many options or enough experience in interpersonal relationships to know anything was wrong to begin with or how to go about changing it. Tim couldn't let his little brother suffer without at least trying to help. He had decided to intervene.

It had taken him a few days to determine the best approach. He wanted Damian to know he had options and to show him how healthy relationships worked. He wanted him to be able to relax and let down his walls when he was around people he trusted, even if Tim was not included in that list. He did not want to interact with the rest of the Waynes. With that in mind, he had settled on a plan and gotten to work.

He had started small. He had talked to the Kents. At first it was just Martha and Jonathan present. He had explained the situation and his theories on what would help Damian. He had told them to find a balance to provide affection to Damian through touch without making him feel vulnerable or exposed to an attack. He had then asked Jon, with Ma and Pa's blessing, to start inviting Damian to the farm more often and for shorter trips. He had then started working on his own relationship with Damian.

He approached it slowly, being nearby without being perceived as a threat. Sitting close enough to count as company but not to touch if either of them extended their arms. Working on his homework or his projects without putting on headphones or making himself unapproachable. Keeping his body language open and inviting. Letting Damian be the one to decide if he wanted to interact and do so on his terms. Eventually, the kid took him up on it. It started with small gestures, Damian sitting closer and working on his drawings while Tim kept doing homework. Bringing him snacks or drinks if he got up to get his own.

After a while, they started talking as well. Damian was hesitant at first. Tim had seen him try and talk and had decided it counted as the first move and asked about his pets. It was easier from then. They talked about the farm, the Kents, Tim's independent projects, his major, Damian's drawings, his upcoming events. Damian had told him Bruce demanded his attendance at a gala later that week and Tim had given him tips and tricks to survive Gotham's elite. They still tiptoed around the topic of their family. Damian didn't talk about them, even if he mentioned their name every once in a while. Tim didn't push.

Eventually, Damian had gathered the courage to apologize about his early interactions with Tim. Tim had accepted the apology and taken it as an invitation to start a bigger conversation about healthy relationships and family dynamics. Damian looked thoughtful and sad. Tim had taken it a step further and made him promise to come to him if he ever felt unsafe in his current situation. Damian had looked perplexed and ready to snap his walls back up. Tim had given him enough examples and details to show that he was being earnest and had managed to extract the promise.

Now, Damian was at his door with too many bags to only be visiting but too little to contain everything he owned. Tim couldn't say he didn't see it coming. He had still hoped to be wrong.

The next few months went by quickly. They settled into a routine and Tim made sure to establish clear expectations and well defined boundaries around their arrangement. He started looking for houses, taking Damian to see the more promising ones. He knew his little brother would want to have his animals back with him and they needed more space than the apartment could provide. He bought enough psychology books to fill up a small library. He showed most to Damian. Some he kept to himself. He talked to Ma constantly, trying to make sure he was giving Damian everything he needed to thrive and grow knowing that he was loved. That he mattered. It was nerve wracking. It was worth it when Damian led him to his room, proudly showing his decorations and waiting for Tim's approval. The trust in his eyes was the best compliment Tim had gotten in a long time.

As they got used to living together and relying on each other, Tim kept adding new things to their routine that he thought would benefit Damian. He bought him materials for his art, clothes meant for comfort more than usefulness, things for his pets. He offered to teach him photography, Damian agreed and offered to teach him different drawing techniques. He started introducing Damian to new people, partly to ensure he had more people in his corner if Tim wasn't available but also to expand his bubble of trust and work on de-isolating him after all the years he had spent mostly alone in the manor. He started with people Damian already knew and trusted. Cass, then Steph and Duke, then Kon and Bart, then J'onn, Diana, and Clark, then Zatanna, then some of his university friends, and so on.

He took note of who Damian seemed to click with and arranged more outings with them. He wasn't expecting Damian to connect with everyone but he wanted to give him the option to do so and enough people for Damian to interact without any expectations outside of getting to know them for a bit. Only a select few were allowed inside their house. Tim's priority was for it to be Damian's safe space and he wasn't going to jeopardize that for anything. Only people that had earned Damian's full trust got to visit them in their sanctuary. Everyone else met them outside. It was a good system.

He also enrolled Damian into school, silently transferring legal guardianship of the boy to himself after he had gotten his permission to do so. He didn't think the bats had noticed yet. Bruce was still trying to get to Tim in any way possible (Tim saw his repeated attempts on his security systems and kept an eye on the times he tried to get people to give away his information). Dick had gone back to Bludhaven after the latest screaming match and wasn't aware there was anything out of the ordinary happening. Alfred had contacted Ma Kent to inquire about Damian's safety (his words, not Tim's) then had continued with his duties as Bruce's butler without doing anything else. He cared in his own way, just not enough to take a stand against his ward.

Life kept going. Damian's 13th birthday came and went, they spent it with the Kents and visiting Damian's animals. They moved to a bigger house and Tim started looking at blueprints to build something to house Damian's pets closer to the boy. As they moved in, they decided to turn the living room into a shared study for them both. On one side Damian's painting materials and all his drawings, on the other a sturdy table with comfy seats and enough space for Tim to work on his latest project. They included a couch and a few other places to sit and spend time together. They turned a smaller room into a game room with a big TV, board games and different consoles. They turned the rest of the rooms that weren't their own into guest rooms for the Kents and the few others allowed to visit. Slowly they started filling the walls with their own decorations. Damian's drawings of Titus and Alfred, Tim's pictures of the city and Damian's pets, a few of the ones they had taken together on their excursions. Damian lamented leaving all his old art projects behind but when Tim offered to get them he decided to just start new ones.

Damian's first big drawing in the new house had been a surprise to Tim. He had insisted on covering it whenever he wasn't working on it, making Tim promise not to take a peek and being careful not to show it to him whenever he added to it. Tim was curious but he wanted to respect his little brother's privacy and let him do things on his own terms. It took almost a month to complete. Damian had finished it while Tim was out of the house. By the time he had come back, Damian had been waiting impatiently at the door and had led him to their study as soon as he was within reach. Once they were there, Damian had started fidgeting before hesitantly turning his finished painting so that Tim could finally see it.

Tim felt his heart fill with warmth. It was a painting of him and Damian standing at the Kent's farm. It was breathtaking. Damian had managed to capture the welcoming essence of the Kent's while keeping the focus on him and Tim and their closeness. It felt more like a candid picture of them than a portrait. Full of life and love. Tim felt a few tears escape his eyes as he pulled Damian close and hugged him. Later that day, he got it framed in a design both him and Damian approved of and hung it up in the center of their living room. Even as Damian's collection grew and the walls started filling with art from both of them depicting their adventures, it remained his favorite.

Bruce comes back from the dead and wants to make things better. Bruce comes back from the dead and Tim was the one who brought him back, so it's obviously Tim who'll know best how to help him reconnect with everyone.

It's Tim who should give him advice on how to bond with Dick. Dick has always been his idol, after all. Tim would know best how to bring him back, and he does. He gives good advice and the two of them begin to get closer.

So Bruce asks about Jason, too. Asks about how to bring his son back into the fold and Tim wished for a brief and brutal moment that it weren't so obvious who the favorite was.

Tim told Bruce to give Jason his space, to loosen his rules, and make it clear that no matter what the Red Hood did, no matter what the Batman believed in, Jason was always welcome. Bruce would always want him.

It worked. Bruce wasn't surprised. Tim was a special sort of bitter.

Bruce asked again for Damian and Tim had to push down his anger. "That boy tried to kill me," Tim wanted to say. "I hate him and I want you to hate him too so that I can remember a time when we had something in common," Tim didn't say, but he got close.

He instead told Bruce how Damian liked art and animals and loved hearing stories of the wonders of Batman.

He told Bruce just how much Damian loved being Robin. Told Bruce to tell Damian what a good Robin he was.

God bless or maybe damn him, but he did and it worked and Tim wanted to start screaming and clawing at something because that would have never worked if Tim tried it and it wouldn't have stopped Damian from cutting his line--something Bruce did not and would never know about.

Bruce asked about Babs. How should he make sure she knew that she was a part of the family? They they loved her and not just for the work she did?

He asked about Steph. How should he make sure she knew that she was more important than his rules and that, if something else should go wrong, she didn't need to run away?

He asked about Duke. He never got the chance to get to know him before leaving--not as well as he wanted to, at least. How should he let him know that he was just as much a son as everyone else? That, whether or not his parents woke up, he'd always be welcome?

He asked about Cass. How should he show her that he loves her even though he has nothing to teach her? How can he convey how much he cares about her, his first daughter?

Bruce gets brought back from time and he makes things better. He brings his family back together by following Tim's advice.

And Tim?

Tim brings his dad back from the dead and Bruce changes, becomes a better father.

Bruce changes, but not everything can.

That, Tim thinks, is why Bruce never calls Tim his son.

[yeoningz]

CAUGHT BETWEEN THE PAGES ⋆˚࿔ 최수빈

your professor catches you reading a not-so-safe-for-school book in the middle of his class. in an effort to make things better, you fear that you may have just made them worse.

⧼ 📖 ⧽ 一 pairing ⸝⸝⸝ professor!choi soobin ✗ student!fem!reader includes ⚬ ⚬ ⚬ beomgyu and yeonjun of tomorrow x together, dino of seventeen, giselle and karina of aespa

genre ⚬ ⚬ ⚬ smut, fluff, porn with plot, comedy

warnings ⸝⸝⸝ teacher/student, age gaps, power play, light dom/sub dynamics, switch! to soft dom!soobin, masterbation (f. rec), erotic literature, explicit language and sexual content, spanking, cumming in pants, dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, name calling (slut), wet dreams, impact play, oral (m. rec), facefucking, deepthroat, big dick soobin, doggy style, sex on furniture, unprotected sex, creampies, talk of contraception (reader is on birth control), alcohol mentions, drinking and partying, hair pulling, size kink word count. 12. 2 k | ⧼ 📜⊹₊ ⧽ 一 to library.

[notes.] a rewrite of my first ever fic on tumblr, study night! this is a romanticization of student/teacher relationships where both parties are consenting adults, but it is important to note that these relationships can be problematic in real life due to one parties authority over another's and unstable power dynamics. thank you to @jellymochii, @biteyoubiteme and @beomiracles for proofreading! reblogs and feedback are very appreciated <3 i hope you enjoy!

YOUR LINGUISTICS PROFESSOR embodies everything you find detestable in a teacher. His classes are a monotonous drone of information, devoid of anything exciting or engaging, though that might not be entirely his fault with how boring the subject he teaches is. He rarely deviates from whatever script he had thrown together— no doubt just the night before, from the way he rambles and stutters— and he absolutely refuses to entertain any questions or foster any interesting discussion. He never accepted late assignments or gave any extensions, his tests are ridiculously hard, and he’ll dock points off your assignments for the tiniest, stupidest reasons. Sure, it’s a difficult course, and it’s important to your major, but you swear he seems to take some kind of pleasure in making his students miserable. Each class feels like an eternity, and often you find yourself counting down the minutes until you can escape the insufferable, suffocating atmosphere of his classroom.

Yet, for some strange, inexplicable reason, you find yourself absolutely obsessed with him.

Maybe it was because you spent your time in his class focusing more on him than any of the words that came out of his mouth. His irritatingly handsome, angular face and his pouty, kissable lips, how he turns red and gapes like a fish out of water when he’s talking himself into a corner or is asked a question he doesn’t know how to answer. His big veiny hands and how they look when he waves them around animatedly, filling your head with thoughts of how they would look caressing your body. His tall, fit body and how he towers over you whenever you come up to him, the way he has to lower his head to look you in the eye, a soldering heat bubbling in your belly from the way he makes you feel so small. The way he loves to pepper his lectures with painfully unfunny dad jokes, and the way he gets all blushy when no one laughs. It makes you cringe, but in some odd way you also find it incredibly endearing. Sometimes you even catch yourself giggling quietly, stupid and u lovesick puppy. You can’t stand to be his student, but you dream at night about being something else to him entirely— it’s a paradox that drives you to detrimental distraction. How can you be so obsessed with someone you loathe? His perplexing combination of qualities was like some kind of mystery you felt compelled to unravel, at the very least to put your own mind at ease.

That was when you found the novel. It was hidden in the romance section of your favorite used bookstore, squished between two old technicolor cover harlequin novels, it’s dark and simple spine juxtaposing against all the bright colors and ornate fonts. It intrigued you enough to pull it from the shelf and look it over, your cheeks heating up as you take in its cover. A headless, well-dressed man sat in a chair with his legs spread invitingly, the smart suit he was wearing disheveled and his undone belt held tightly in his hand, the leather strap resting against his inner thigh. The title Lessons in Attraction was printed where his head would be, vague but provocative enough to make your stomach flip. The man immediately reminded you of Professor Choi, from the way he was dressed to the prominent veins in his hands, and when you flip the book over to read the synopsis you understand the connection. It outlines the story of a steamy romance between a strict economics professor and his teaching assistant, an innocent, young virgin who wants nothing more than to please. It was as if the author had plucked your deepest fantasies straight from your head and printed them out on paper, then planted the book in the perfect spot for you specifically to discover. You knew just from skimming through the pages that reading it would only do you more harm than good, but you just couldn’t put it down, drawn to the story like an addict needing a fix. You hid it in your stack of textbooks, and you refused to look the cashier in the eye as they checked you out.

At first, you had intended to keep it hidden in your bedroom, only to be read late at night when your roommates were either out or asleep. But as your obsession with your professor continued to deepen, so did your obsession with the novel; soon you found yourself taking it with you everywhere you went, reading snippets whenever you had the chance and quickly shoving back into your bag anytime someone would walk by or glance over at you. Your dreams devolved into graphic, vivid replays of your favorite dirty scenes, with Professor Choi in the place of the professor from the story. You wake up hot and bothered every morning, and his class becomes even more difficult with your head now full of illicit, naughty fantasies. Everything he does makes your belly swirl with need, even something as simple as running a hand through his hair or adjusting his glasses— you can’t even bare to look at him, and instead try your hardest to focus on whatever boring tangent he was rambling on about… until you caught yourself fantasizing about how his deep voice would sound whispering dirty words in your ear.

You couldn’t take it anymore. Professor Choi’s lectures were beginning to feel more like sick torture— you needed something to keep you distracted before you went insane.

So, against your better judgement, you started to bring the novel to read in class. You sat far enough in the back that you were certain he wouldn’t notice, and your poor classmates were too bored out of their minds to look your way. It was easy to keep it hidden away tucked in your lap, so you could pretend to be writing in your notebook while you read. Something about it excited you, reading about fucking your professor with your real professor standing there in front of you, none the wiser. Being able to admire him as you indulged in your secret desires. If he caught you, you would be humiliated, but you would be lying if you said that the thought didn’t excite you a little too…

“Miss L/N, what are you doing?”

You nearly shoot straight out of your chair, your professor’s sudden call of your name shocking you out of your reverie. You had gotten so absorbed into your novel that you had forgotten to check to see if he was looking your way. “H-huh?”

“You keep looking at your lap.” Professor Choi remarks, peering up at you from his spot at the podium with an unamused frown. His thick-rimmed glasses made his pretty brown eyes appear even larger than they already were, blinking up at you like he was studying you through a magnifying glass. “You’re not on your phone, are you? You know I have a no-tolerance policy when it comes to electronics.” [GU1] 

“Oh! No, sir, I’m just…” your startled gaze bounces back to the book in your lap, and you swallow nervously. “Reading.”

“Reading?” Professor Choi echoes, raising his brow. “What are you reading? I assume it’s not the textbook, from the look on your face.”

You blanche, trying your hardest to appear nonchalant as you snap the book shut and shove it down into the recesses of your school bag. “It’s nothing!” You reply far too quickly, sounding guiltier than sin.

Professor Choi blinks, his magnified eyes raking over your sweating face before trailing down to your bag, clasped protectively in your lap.

“Give it to me.” he orders curtly, stretching out his hand.

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. “What?! W-why?!”

“Reading anything that isn’t the course material is against my class rules— I have it printed clearly on the syllabus, though with how you can never seem to pay attention I wouldn’t be surprised if you missed it when I went over it at the beginning of the semester. I would recommend looking over it again to see if there’s anything else you’ve forgotten. Now, get up and hand me that book.”

The entire class has turned to look at you now too, dozens of pairs of eyes fixated on your every move. The silence is absolutely deafening. Your heart races and your hands tremble as you squirm in your seat, trying desperately to come up with some sort of escape as if you were in a horror movie; you might as well be, because out of all the ghouls and monsters you can think of, this has to be your worst nightmare.

You consider refusing. Technically, Professor Choi couldn’t force you to do anything you didn’t want to— hell, you could walk right out of the classroom right then and there if you really wanted to, with both your book and your dignity intact. After all, you were a grown adult paying to further your education out of your own pocket. Trying to confiscate your belongings as if you were a child was borderline insulting.

But you can’t risk your grade over something like this, as embarrassing as it was, and you wouldn’t put it past him to penalize you in some way for defying your orders. You were already struggling as it was, partly because of how difficult the coursework was and mostly because of how you could never concentrate whenever Professor Choi was around. To make matters even worse, passing was a requirement for your degree. Getting even more on his bad side than you already were simply not an option.

It takes every ounce of energy you have to force yourself to stand up out of your seat and trudge down to Professor Choi’s podium, clutching your novel against your chest like you were clutching pearls. He has to pry it out of your hand with a considerable amount of force, because you can’t seem to loosen your fingers around the cover.

You scamper back to your seat, but not before turning back to see Professor Choi eye the cover with a startled expression. It would have been comical if you didn’t feel like you were seconds away from throwing up all over your desk.

He places it gingerly face-down on his desk like he was handling a dead fish, and you’re both grateful and horrified that he noticeably avoids making eye contact with you when he steps back up on his podium. “You can come by my office later to get it back, Miss L/N. I have a free period at six.”

“Yes, sir.” You answer glumly, staring at your shoes.

Luckily for you, he dismisses the class only a few minutes later, muttering about something to do with grading papers. You’ve never ran out of that lecture hall so fast in your life.

“Whoa, what’s up with you?” your friend Beomgyu asks when you walk by him in the hall, backpack and skateboard in hand without a care in the world. “You look live you’ve seen a ghost or something.”

You stop just long enough to realize that you were still running, even though you had made it nearly halfway across the building. “I’m so fucked.” You state simply.

“What? What happened? Did you do something to piss off Professor Choi again?”

“Yes. No. Kind of?” you cringe inwardly. There’s absolutely no way you’re telling Beomgyu about any of what happened; he’d laugh at you to the point you fear you might actually start crying. “I don’t want to talk about it. I gotta go.”

You shuffle away before he can respond, and while you feel bad ignoring him as he calls out to you in confusion, you’re focused solely on finding somewhere quiet and empty to hide out until your next class. And maybe grabbing an iced coffee or something. Just to drown out the tears as you wallow in your own misery.

Against all odds, you manage to make it through the rest of your classes. The wait was almost worse than getting caught, barely able to sit still in your seat as you panic inwardly for hours on end. If it was Professor Choi’s intention to psychologically torture you, he wildly succeeded.

And you’re absolutely sure it was, because the first thing you see once you step into his office is your professor lounging back in his chair reading your book.

“Professor!” you yelp.

Professor Choi glances up from your book, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes as he sends you a tight-lipped smile. “Oh, Miss Y/N! You’re just in time. I was just flipping through your book here, it seems awfully… interesting.”

You gulp, your trembling hands clutching the strap of your bag in a vain attempt to ground yourself. “Um, sir!” you squeak, rushing to his side to glance over his shoulder at what page he was on, praying to whatever god that will listen that he hasn’t read anything raunchy. “I think it would be best if you, um, didn’t read that…”

“Oh?” Soobin flips the page and quirks his brow, not even sparing you a second glance as he adjusts his glasses, “What do you mean?”

You rack your brain desperately for a good enough excuse, but you can’t think of anything other than just how mortified you were, watching helplessly as your professor’s keen eyes scan over the pages. “Can I have it back now?” you say instead, your voice small and shaking.

“Surely you can wait just a little longer— now I’m dying to know why you don’t want me to read this.” Professor Choi’s crooked, dimpled smirk infuriates you.

Was there any possible way that you could talk your way out of this without telling him upfront that what he was holding in his hands was an erotica, one about a teacher and a student no less? You shuffle nervously, stumbling over your words as you try to stutter out something, anything, “You, um… you wouldn’t like it.”

He turns his head to look up at you again, the look in his eye sharply changing when he takes in your frightened state, into something you don’t recognize and aren’t sure you like. “How can you be sure I wouldn’t enjoy it? I’m a fan of many different genres of literature, though I’ve never read anything quite like this before. Is it some sort of romance novel? If it is, you don’t have to be ashamed, Miss Y/N. I’m sure many young women such as yourself read these sorts of novels, though I strongly discourage reading them while I’m in the middle of a lecture. It’s simply disrespectful. Now, where was I?”

He trails his finger down the page as if he was looking for his place, and you bristle. “Sir, seriously, don’t—!”

“I followed my professor to his office, watching with bated breath as he rounded his big wooden desk.”  Professor Choi reads aloud. You barely stop yourself from screaming, instead letting out a sort of pained choking sound. “He stopped to stand behind me, looking down my shoulder as if he were looking over my essay just as I was. I had made three errors in my writing, each one circled in bright red ink. He seemed more upset about it than usual.”

“Professor, please.”

“’Put that essay on my desk.’ he said, so I did.” Professor Choi continues, ignoring you. He had gave the professor character a stupid, high pitched voice when he spoke, which would have been funny if you weren’t so humiliated. “’Now bend over with your elbows on my desk, so that you are looking directly at the essay. Keep your face very close.’”

“Stop it! Just let me have it!” You hated to talk to him this way, but if he continued reading any further… it took everything you had to keep yourself from running out of his office and crawling into the nearest ditch to die in.

“That’s not how you should speak to me, Miss Y/N. Now you certainly aren’t getting it back.” Professor Choi retorted, his evil little smirk growing even wider. You wanted to hit him, or kick or scream, but you couldn’t do anything except stand there and try your hardest not to cry. “I was puzzled, but I followed his instructions, bending over the top of his desk so that my chest, belly and arms were pressed against the hardwood. My nose was merely a centimeter or two away from the letter, which made it difficult to read. My skirt was starting to… to slide up the backs of my thighs, but I was sure that if I moved to tug it back down, I would just get into even more trouble.”

You grimace when Professor Choi’s voice broke, his smile slowly starting to slide off his face. But he did not stop reading. “’Now read the letter to yourself. Read it over and over again.’ My professor said. I read: “In today’s rapidly evolving global landscape, the integration of technology in…” and at the word “integration”, which I had misspelled, he— he… um… Oh.”

You began to feel less like wanting to die and more like you were actually dying. Professor Choi stared hard at the pages for a painfully long moment, his ears turning bright cherry red, but to your surprise and absolute mortification, he began to read aloud again. His voice had dropped that cheerful quality, however, sounding winded as if he had been hit upside the head. “At the word “integration”, which I had misspelled, he reeled his arm back and spanked me hard. I stopped reading with a loud gasp, shocked— the sting reverberated through my core, fiery hot, and despite my embarrassment I began to soak through my panties. At my silence, I was spanked again, even harder. ‘I said read it.’ My professor reminded me. ‘Be a good girl and follow instructions.’”

Professor Choi shut the book closed abruptly and looked up at you with a very red face and wide eyes. The tears that had been pooling in your lashes threatened to spill down your cheeks, so overcome with fear and embarrassment that your stomach turned like you were going to be sick. That was just what you needed to top off this already life-ruining experience, wasn’t it; vomiting all over your professor after he uncovers your darkest, dirtiest secret.

“This is extremely inappropriate material to bring on campus.” Professor Choi finally says, his voice wavering.

“Yes, sir.”

“And that relationship, it’s… wrong. It’s against the university’s code of conduct. I— he could get fired for that.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You shouldn’t be reading this. It’ll put... thoughts in your head that don’t need to be there.”

“…Yes, sir.” Part of you wants to argue with him, remind him that you’re an adult and can read whatever it is that you would like, but you don’t have the strength to.

He sighs heavily, like something important is weighing on his mind, and he hands you back your book before turning back to pour over the scattered, forgotten papers on his desk. “Go home, Miss L/N. And get rid of that book.”

You turn tail and scamper out into the hall, but you can’t help but glance back into Professor Choi’s office as you leave. He’s hunched over his desk with his elbows resting on the wood, his fingers tangled in his dark hair as he rests his head in his hands. It seems like something is bothering him, something bigger than grading papers or your stupid, silly book.

You don’t stick around to find out what it is.

The next morning, you receive a rather hastily written email from Professor Choi telling you that he’s cancelling classes for the rest of the week. He’s come down with a cold, he claims— you and the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach know better than to believe that.

You don’t see him until next Monday, but even then he might as well not have shown up at all. He struggles to get through his lesson plan even more than usual, and he wouldn’t look away from his papers or the projector, even when one of your classmates raised their hand to ask a question. You spent the entire period gathering up the courage to go up to him after his lecture, but when you do he brushes you off with a lame, half-baked excuse about having papers to grade and no time to talk, grabbing his things in a rush and scampering out of the lecture hall before you can call out for him to come back.

The pit in your stomach opens up into a black hole, swallowing up everything except for overwhelming, gnawing anxiety. It’s eating you up inside, manifesting itself in how you’ve chewed your lips until they bled, and then bit your nails down to the quicks— anyone with eyes could see that something was weighing on you, and you became increasingly tired of all your friends asking if anything was wrong, so once you were finished with your classes you took to hiding out in your dorm room curled up on the couch, your favorite fluffy blanket wrapped around you as you sullenly binge-watched a k-drama you’ve seen a thousand times.

While you were more of a homebody, your two roommates were much the opposite. Karina and Giselle loved to go out and party. Tonight was no different, the two of them flittering around the dorm as they got ready to go out to some club, and while they had given up on trying to get you to join them a while ago, something about the way you moped about seemed to reinvigorate Karina’s desire to get you off of your ass and out on the town. She knew you better than anybody, and immediately she could sniff out that something was off.

“Why don’t you come with us? You can borrow one of my dresses.” She offers, rummaging through her collection of high heels. “It’s a Friday night, everyone’s out! We can dance, we can find some boys to take home; it’ll be fun. You look like you need some.”

“I don’t need to have fun. I need to study.” You reply solemnly, scowling, but you make no moves to get up off the couch. It was a shitty excuse even to your own ears; it was obvious you didn’t have any plans to do anything tonight except feel sorry for yourself.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” She huffs. You don’t even have to look at her to know that she’s rolling her eyes. “Something’s bothering you and you won’t even tell me or Gigi what’s wrong. Don’t you think a drink or two would be good for you? You can vent to us all night, too. I promise we’ll listen.”

“I don’t know if I even want to tell you about it.”

“Why not? We’re your best friends, Y/Nie. You can tell us anything, even if it’s stupid or embarrassing. If it’s bothering you this badly, it’s clearly something serious.”

You peer out from under the blanket to look over at Karina— the worry in her eyes makes your heart sink. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t even consider taking her or Giselle up on their offers, but the way you were stuck running circles inside your head was far from normal. “You promise not to laugh at me?” She smiles warmly. “Nope. But I promise I’ll hear you out regardless.”

The loud, thumping bass reverberating throughout the club did very little to help ease your pounding headache. Your temples throbbed with every beat, the pressure so severe it felt as if your skull was just moments away from splitting in two. You don’t think you’ve ever been this uncomfortable in your life; the dress that Karina gave to you was a size or two too small, the shiny fabric so tight around your chest that you gasp for air. It would be difficult for you to breathe even in properly fitting clothes, the air hot and heavy from the throngs of sweaty bodies that surrounded you. You felt claustrophobic, the crowd closing in on you and threatening to swallow you whole— the only place to escape was to the bar, but even there you’re bombarded with flashing lights, deafening music, and the overlapping voices of everyone around you. You have to strain your ears to make out what Giselle was saying, and she was just on the barstool right next to yours.

“Aren’t you glad you came?” She giggles, sipping on a brightly colored cocktail. She had ordered a round of them for all three of you, and the amount of alcohol mixed in them felt like a sucker punch to the face, even with all the sickeningly sweet grenadine the bartender had used to try and mask the flavor. You watch in abject horror as both she and Karina downed them one by one like they were water.

“No.”  you reply honestly.

“You will once you tell us what’s going on with you!” Karina interjects from your other side. “I meant it when I said I wanted you to vent to us, let it all out and give us the tea! Aeri’s dying to know.”

“It’s really embarrassing…” you admit, staring forlornly down at your own drink. “I’d rather just forget all about it.”

“It can’t be that bad. You didn’t drop your pants in front of everyone or anything, did you?”

You cringe. “God, no. It’s not like that.”

“Then it’s nothing you can’t tell us about.” Giselle shoots you a smile over the rim of her glass.

“It’s… it’s about Professor Choi.”

“Our linguistics professor?” Karina cocks her head. “Isn’t he the one you have a massive crush on?”

Your cheeks flush, your drink becoming even more interesting as you avoid looking at either of them in the eye. “Maybe.”

“Ugh, your taste in men is the worst.” Giselle snickers. “I don’t understand why you like him so much. He’s such a dick.”

You fight down the urge to defend him— for some odd reason, you feel a surge of protectiveness over Professor Choi, even when you completely agree with what Giselle is saying about him. “Yes, I like him, but that’s not the point. The point is that I totally fucked up and now I think he hates me.”

“What did you do?! Please tell me you cursed him out, he fucking deserves it.”

“No, Gigi, oh my God.” Even the mere thought of doing something like that sends shivers down your spine. “He caught me reading during class.”

“…That’s it? You’re freaking out over that?” Giselle blinks.

“It’s what I was reading that’s the problem.” you lament miserably, gathering your courage with a sip of your disgusting cocktail. “I have this book; it’s about a teacher and a student… getting together, if you know what I mean. It’s really dirty… and he caught me reading it in class. He took it, and then he read it himself right in front of me! He thinks I’m a freak. It’s been two days and he won’t even look at me.”

Karina and Giselle stare at you.

“Why the hell were you reading a smut book in class?!” Karina gasps, her dark glittery makeup making her wide eyes look even wider. “And one about a professor, too— were you trying to get caught? There’s better ways to go about telling him that you want to fuck him.”

“I don’t know— I was bored and stupid, okay?!” You had been asking yourself the same question for days, mentally beating yourself to a pulp every time it crossed your mind. “I thought he wouldn’t notice me since I sat in the back… now he’s going to tell the dean, and I’m going to get expelled, and—”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Giselle stops you in your downwards spiral, grabbing your shoulder to ground you. “You’re thinking too hard about this. He’s probably just a prude. If he was going to do something like that, he would have probably done it by now. Plus, I don’t think that’s really something you can be expelled over.”

You lean into her touch, resting your head on her shoulder as she pats your back comfortingly. “He’s mad at me…” you whine petulantly. “I was trying to get that TA position, too… fuck, I’m so screwed.”

“What would he be mad at you for? Being horny?” Karina laughs, “It’s really his own fault for snooping in your stuff.”

“I think you’ll still get it.” Giselle supplies helpfully. “You’ve really got nothing to worry about. Sure, your grade sucks, but I’ve seen the two of you talking in the hallway before— the way he looks at you is insane. And the way he looks at your ass when you leave is even crazier. You just showed him that you feel the same way about him that he does about you.”

“Don’t say that.” You groan. “You think that about every guy I talk to. There’s no way in hell that Professor Choi feels anything for me except hatred.”

“If you’re really that worried about it, you can always just apologize.” Karina says, drumming her long nails against her glass. “It might not do anything, but it’ll make you feel better.”

That was the first bit of real advice either her or Giselle had given you in a while, even if it left a bad taste in your mouth. “I don’t know. I feel like that would just make things worse. I need to go to the bathroom.”

You scramble off the barstool in a rush, teetering on your heels— you weren’t even that tipsy, but every step made you feel like a newborn deer. Karina and Giselle watch you hobble away in pity.

You stumble through the crowd in search of a bathroom sign, quickly getting lost in the sea of bodies. There’s little room to move around, everyone pressed up against each other dancing, too intoxicated to notice you trying to politely squeeze by. They jostle and knock you around, and you nearly trip over your own wobbly feet multiple times. Your headache grows nearly unbearable, your desperation to find an escape leading you to start pushing people out of the way so you can continue to move forward. One particularly drunk woman nearly knocks you to the ground, and she shoots you a dirty look over her shoulder when you shoulder past her roughly. You hate to be rude, but you’re teetering dangerously close to your breaking point. You need to find some peace and quiet, and fast.

But all of that goes out the window when among the countless bobbing and weaving heads, you spot a frighteningly familiar pair of broad shoulders.

“Professor Choi?!” you call out in shock, shoving your way towards him. “What are you doing here?!”

Without his suits and big clunky glasses on, you almost don’t recognize him. He was leaning back against the wall with two men who you vaguely recognize as other professors at the university, talking and laughing amongst themselves with beers in their hands. You admire the curve of his tall nose, the way his pronounced collarbones peeked out from the loose linen shirt he wore, the first few buttons undone to show a delicious strip of tan skin. His dark hair, usually gelled back to show his forehead, was left fluffy and untamed, framing his pretty brown eyes. He jumps a little at your voice, turning away from the men to look at you.

His eyes widen sharply, moving slowly from your face down to your chest. They linger there for a moment, blinking owlishly, before he tears them away from you completely, the tips of his ears turning bright red.

“Oh, um. Hello, Miss L/N.” he stutters, suddenly very interested in the state of his shoes. You make a quick mental note to thank Karina later for convincing you to squeeze yourself into this stupid dress.

“Oh, this is Y/N?” One of the men slurs gleefully, a grin stretching across his handsome face. There was a certain hunger in the way he undresses you with his fox eyes, scanning you head to toe like a predator. You could tell from his flushed pink cheeks that he was very drunk. “I’ve heard all about you! It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”

Something odd flashes in Professor Choi’s eyes and he jerks his head to shoot his friend a deathly glare. He doesn’t seem to notice.

“You’ve… heard about me?” you cringe, your heart sinking. Out of whatever Professor Choi had to say about you, none of it could be anything good.

“Oh, not much, just that you’re one of the brightest students that he’s ever taught.” The other man cuts in, chuckling. He tips his head back and takes a swig of his beer, flashing you his sharp jawline. “One of his favorites to have in class, he says.”

“Such a smart head on those little shoulders! You should consider taking my econ course next year, it’d be a gift to see your pretty face in my class.” The first man adds, his crooked smirk widening.

“Yeonjun, Chan, please.” Professor Choi grits out through his teeth, anxiously running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, what did you say, Miss L/N?”

You splutter as your lips refuse to form words. You?! The brightest student he’s ever had?! That was just a complete and utter lie; if it wasn’t for Giselle helping you with an extra credit assignment you had practically begged him on your knees for, you would be failing his class spectacularly. You couldn’t fathom why Professor Choi would say something like that to these two men, when nearly every class he was scolding you for being late, distracted, forgetting your deadlines, a combination of all three and more. Not only that, but with what had transpired the other day still fresh and stinging… they had to be saving face or making some kind of sick joke. As you collect your thoughts, you half expect them to start pointing and laughing.

“What are you doing here?” you repeat, peering up at Professor Choi’s blushing face. He avoids meeting your eyes, just like how he was in class.

“Am I not allowed to enjoy the start of my weekend?” he retorts, fiddling with the pull tab on his beer. “Clearly, you’re doing the same.”

He spits out the words like they left a bad taste in his mouth. It stung like an insult. “I thought you said you were busy.” you assert, biting your lip to keep from scoffing. The liquor giving you a little too much courage; he was still Professor Choi, even if now standing in front of you he looked like just any other guy.

“I… was.” He mumbles, “And now I’m not anymore. It’s really not any of your business.”

It takes everything you have to keep from blurting out that your book really wasn’t any of his business either, but you manage to hold your tongue.

“I’m sorry, I just— Sir, I need to talk to you.”

 “There’s nothing to talk about.” He says matter-of-factly. It’s far from what you were expecting him to say.

“What do you mean?” you challenge, your annoyance starting to turn sour. “It’s about the other day.”

Professor Choi continues to play dumb, though he keeps throwing sidelong glances to his coworkers. “What about it?”

“I want to apologize.” You bite hard on your lower lip. For doing nothing wrong.

Professor Choi’s eyes snap up to meet yours, inky dark irises wide in shock. “Y/N—”

“Apologize?” Professor Choi’s friend— Yeonjun— butts in, raising an eyebrow. “What happened?”

All the color leaves Professor Choi’s face, even the blush that was slowly trailing from his cheeks down his neck. He awkwardly clears his throat and averts his gaze, putting on a show of cupping his ear and pretending to be confused. “Sorry, I can’t hear you over all of this noise! If you have a question, I’ll be in my office tomorrow afternoon. Go on and have a good night.”

“Wait, Professor—!”

“Have a good night!”

It takes you a long time to find your way back to the bar, drunk, defeated, and stewing in your own thoughts. You’re pleasantly surprised to see that Giselle and Karina have been sat waiting for you all this time, but you don’t have it in you to feel happy or grateful as you plop yourself back onto your empty barstool. Their irritation quickly shifts to confusion and worry, both shooting you odd glances as Karina tentatively hands you another cocktail.

“Are you okay?”

“Did you get lost or something?”

You take a long sip, the disgusting sweetness and the bitter liquor overpowering your senses enough to calm your racing thoughts. “I think I’m going to go and talk to Professor Choi tomorrow.” is all you say.

“If you fuck him, please put in a good word for me.” Giselle slurs drunkenly in reply. “I need to pass that fucking class.”

“You’ve been a bad girl, haven’t you, Miss L/N?” Professor Choi whispers in your ear, his deep voice dripping with honeyed venom. The fabric of his dress shirt ghosts over your back, his body so close that you can feel the heat radiating off his skin. He has you trapped against his big wooden desk, bent over it obscenely with your ass in the air as you whimper and squirm. Your skirt and panties pool at your ankles, leaving your most intimate areas exposed for him to view. Your leaking pussy quivered from the icy cold air, your hole clenching desperately around nothing and aching to be filled.

“I’m sorry!” You mewl, voice wavering.

“You didn’t answer my question. What are you sorry for?” he presses, so deliciously condescending in the way he feigns ignorance, “Apologize to me properly and tell me what it was that you did.”

“I’ve been bad, sir. I was reading during your lecture, and I’m sorry—”

“Oh, you weren’t just reading.” Professor Choi scoffs, straightening himself up and off your back. He rounds the desk to circle you like prey, his slow methodical steps echoing throughout the quiet of his office. They echo in your ears and strike a dizzying mix of fear and anticipation in your heart.

“I-I was reading smut and…” your face burns hotter than the sun, and you close your eyes and take a deep breath to will yourself to have the courage to admit what it was you were caught doing. “…And I was touching myself.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that.” He stops to stand at your side, his mere presence hovering above you enough to make you shudder. “Tell me exactly how you were touching that slutty little pussy.”

His words go straight to your core, making you squeeze your thighs together in need. Just a little friction was all you needed, and the edge of his desk granted a great opportunity… but as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t let yourself give in to desperation and grind yourself against Professor Choi’s desk like a dog in heat. He would notice immediately, and it would only worsen your punishment.

“I was… I was rubbing my clit through my panties.” you admit ashamedly, “Grinding against my fingers. I was going to put one inside but you… you stopped me.”

“I could see your hand up your skirt all the way from the back of the class.” Professor Choi spits, his carefully controlled demeanor cracking and his wild, untamed anger boiling to the surface. “It’s like you’re trying to get the two of us caught. You’re lucky no one else was looking… or was that what you wanted? Did you want everyone to see what a slut you are?”

“N-no!” you gasp, but the idea gets you even wetter; you wanted nothing more than for everyone to know that he was much more than just your professor, that he was yours and in turn you were his. “I’m a slut j-just for you, no one else!”

“Fuck, that’s right.” he groans lowly, his voice dripping sex. He picks up a long wooden ruler off his desk, right by your head, and points the tip at the nape of your neck. It ran slowly down the curve of your spine, a ghostly barely-there touch that left a trail of fire erupt across your skin. He stops at the plush swell of your ass, gently caressing your flesh with the cold wood. “You’re all mine. My favorite little student. You just need some discipline to put you back in your place, hm? Show me what a good girl you can be and count for me.”

He rears his arm back, poised and ready to strike. You can hear the ruler whooshing through the air, sharp and fast as he swings his arm forwards—

Your eyes snap open with a gasp. Suddenly, you’re back in your bedroom, curled up safe and sound in your bed, groggy and disoriented as you slowly come back down to reality. While you dreamt about Professor Choi often, never had one felt this vivid, this real. You can still feel the echoes of his touch, the phantom pain of his ruler against your asscheek haunting you like a ghost. Your panties are soaked through completely, sticky arousal pooling in the fabric and dripping down your thighs, creating a wet spot on your sheets. You toss and turn to try and go back to sleep, but it’s no use; you’re so horny you can’t think straight, can’t ignore the dull throbbing in your core.

As your hand slides under the waistband of your panties, you decide that enough is enough.

You were at your breaking point. Your life had spiraled completely out of control in the span of just two days, all because your stupid puppy-love crush of a professor had to be nosy about your reading material. He just had to find a way to humiliate you even more than he already did, didn’t he? He could’ve just given you your book back and the two of you could have gone on with your lives. He shouldn’t have even taken your book in the first place! You could have continued fantasizing about him from the back of the class, not a worry in the world, instead of losing precious hours of sleep and mentally beating yourself up.

And after your interaction at the bar, you feel even more ridiculous. If Professor Choi truly had the intention of telling someone about what he had caught you reading, wouldn’t he have told the other professors that he was with? And lying to them about you being his smartest student…  you couldn’t wrap your head around it.

It was clear that Professor Choi didn’t want to talk about it. But even if he wants to pretend like none of this ever happened, you just couldn’t.

There was simply no other way for you to get over all of this other than finally confronting him. You needed to make the endless spiral stop, tell him exactly what was on your mind and finally put this to bed. The longer you stew over everything that has transpired, the more your fear and anxiety boils over into anger. This was all Professor Choi’s fault! You needed to give him a piece of your mind, or you don’t think you’ll ever be able to move on.

Professor Choi doesn’t answer until after the fifth knock, his face immediately dropping once he swings open his office door to see you standing there in front of him. His hair is a mess and his clothes are disheveled, his tie half undone and his shirt sleeves rolled up past his elbows. Anxiously he adjusts his glasses, the wide brown eyes behind them looking like a cornered deer’s. “You actually came over to apologize?” He blurts out before you can even open your mouth, genuine surprise taking over his features. “I didn’t think you—"

“Actually, no, I’m not here to apologize!” you declare, the words spilling out before you gave yourself the time to second guess yourself. You had lied awake until the sun came up thinking about what to say, and you weren’t going to let those wasted hours go to waste. “I’m here to tell you, sir, that going through my book was an invasion of my privacy! And that it’s none of your business what I read! I’m an adult, not a child, and I can do whatever I damn well please!”

Professor Choi blinks owlishly, staring at you in stunned silence for so long that your newfound confidence falters and you begin to shuffle nervously.

“Oh. Um… alright.” He finally says.

“Alright?!” you echo incredulously, your irritation coming back in full swing. “You’ve been avoiding me for days and all you have to say for yourself is alright?!”

Professor Choi’s eyes flicker around anxiously, and it suddenly hits you that you were yelling at him in a public hallway. “I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“Yes you do!” you shriek. This really wasn’t how you were planning on any of this going, but it was far too late to turn back. You open your mouth to continue your rant, face burning hot with unbridled rage, but Professor Choi quickly grabs your wrist and roughly pulls you into his office. The sudden act shocked you into silence, your eyes wide and mouth agape as he drags you all the way back to his desk. 

“Listen.” He growls, his voice octaves deeper than you’ve ever heard it before. “You’re acting way out of line right now. Don’t you dare ever talk to me like that, you understand me? I’m still your professor, even when we’re not in class. You’re to treat me with respect—”

“Then you treat me with respect first!” you retort, though you do manage to calm yourself down enough to lower your voice. “Playing dumb and refusing to talk to me after humiliating me in front of everyone! What was even the point of doing that? Was it just for your own sick pleasure?!”

“Y/N.” Professor Choi sighs, the second time you’ve ever heard him call you by your first name— the first was at the club, but you were far too distracted to dwell on it. “I know you have some sort of feelings for me. You’re not very good at hiding it.”

Your entire world comes crashing around you, though you suppose that you shouldn’t be too surprised. You had just let yourself hope beyond reason that he would never pay you any attention.

“What I’m trying to say is… Y/N, you need to stop it. Get rid of the book. I can’t be with you, it’ll never work, okay? I’m your teacher, and ten years your senior. There’s plenty of college boys around campus for you to ogle over instead.”

“You say you can’t but… do you want to?” you ask quietly, barely above a whisper.

Professor Choi doesn’t meet your eyes. “I could get in a lot of trouble, Y/N. You could too.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” You challenge, a hopeful spark igniting in your chest. He didn’t say no… and you may be looking too into things, or just clinging onto hope, but that was more than enough proof to you that your professor was hiding some feelings of his own.

“We can’t do this.” He mumbles, his voice growing wilder, more defiant.

“Sure we can! I’m an adult, you’re an adult… did I scare you away with my book or something? Look, it’s okay if it wasn’t up your alley. There’s nothing wrong with being vanilla, Professor. You don’t have to, like, spank me or anything—”

“But I do!” he interjects suddenly, his head shooting up to look at you with wild eyes. His entire face was bright crimson red.

“You… wait, what?” you must have misheard him. That was the only explanation, surely; There was no way he actually—

“I can’t stop thinking about it! I thought there was no way you’d be into anything like that, that I needed to stop thinking about you and move on like a professional, but then you go and pull this, and now I can’t go a single second without thinking about putting you over my knee! It’s driving me insane! I can’t even look at you!” 

“Professor—”

“Soobin. God, just call me Soobin. I can’t handle you calling me that right now.”

You open and close your mouth a couple of times, surely looking like a fish out of water— This was the absolute last thing you expected to come out of your professor’s— Soobin’s—mouth. Your eyes bulge out of your head, your face burns hotter than the sun… your pussy clenches pathetically. It felt like you were in a dream, almost, which might have been why you suddenly felt so brazen— if you wanted him, and he wanted you, who were you to deny him?

“Then do it.” you say, voice barely above a whisper. Soobin looks just as shocked at your proclamation as you were. “If you want to do it that bad, do it.”

He moves in a flash, giving you no time to prepare— within seconds has you thrown over his lap on his office swivel chair, your hair hanging in your face as you blink wildly at the floor. Soobin brushes one of his big hands against you skirt-clad ass, barely a brush of his fingers, but you still gasp all the same.

“Do you really want this?” He breathes, voice low, his breathing hard—the outline of his cock presses hard against your stomach through his slacks, making it considerably hard to focus on the words that came out of his mouth.

It takes you a moment, but you manage to choke out a whiny “Yes, sir, please.”

Soobin stutters out an uneven breath, his fingers inching down to the hem of your skirt, teasing the tops of your thighs for just a moment before pulling the fabric up to expose your ass, a noticeable wet spot present on your panties.

“So pretty…” He coos. You can feel his cock twitch against your stomach, those long knobby fingers trailing along the edge of your lacy thong. “Is it okay if I take your panties off, bunny?”

You whimper and nod your head— Soobin lands a gentle love-tap to the junction of your thighs with an airy chuckle. “Use your words like a good girl.”

This couldn’t be happening. You had to be dreaming, or hallucinating, or something, anything except truly living through this fantasy come to life— Boring, bland Professor Choi, the biggest prude you thought you knew, was just way too good at this, at making your legs shake and your pussy throb all the while barely touching you. In just an afternoon your reality had shifted from thinking that he had to be the world’s biggest loser virgin to thinking that he was even sexier than the professor in your book.

You weren’t sure how to feel about it, but your cunt did. 

You must have stayed silent for too long, because without much warning Soobin lands a much harsher spank to the top of your asscheek. “Bad girl!” he admonishes, and you can hear the teasing, dimpled grin in his voice “C’mon baby, use your big girl words. Tell me how much you want it.” His hot breath fans over your ear— you couldn’t hold in your moan even if you tried, the broken whine sounding weak and pathetic even to your own ears. 

“P-Please, sir… please take my panties off. Please spank me.” you whimper, your face beet red and your pussy drooling— Soobin’s deft fingers stroke slowly up and down your folds, feeling the wetness seep through the cotton fabric of your panties. You bite your lip to keep from screaming.

“That’s my good bunny.” You could hear your panties rip as he tears them off of you in one solid motion, the biting cold air meeting your hot soaking cunt and making both you and Soobin hiss. He admires the slick leaking down your thighs for a brief silent moment, deep breathy voice cooing at the way you arch into him and his touch, before he straightens back up and lands a stinging, eye watering spank deliciously close to your core. You yelp at the sting.

“That’s for being a fucking tease,” Soobin states, soothing your reddening flesh with a soft caress of his palm. “Being so fucking hot all the time and driving me crazy because I thought I could never have you.”

You hadn’t realized that this was confessional. Shooting him an evil smile over your shoulder, you giggle, “You could’ve just asked.”

Another spank, this time with even more force. Your hips buck with a shrill cry spilling from your open, panting mouth, your eyes watering— you had no idea Professor Choi was this strong. He refuses to give you any time to prepare, never warning you when the next hit to your ass will come. “I didn’t say you could talk back.” He growls.

You’re on the verge of tears from the red-hot stinging in your ass, but you still giggle at his words. “You’re kinky.”

Soobin just rolls his eyes, spanking you again, albeit a little softer. “And this one’s for being a brat. How about you start counting for me, bunny? That’s one.”

“One?! You’ve hit me four times!” Maybe you were pushing it too far, but it just came naturally to you to fight back, make him work for your submission and obedience. You relished pushing him as far as he would go; you relished losing.

Soobin grabs a handful of your hair and yanks hard, making you gasp loudly and your empty pussy flutter. Leaning down close to your ear, he lets out a warning growl; “I said fucking count.”

You don’t think you’ve ever been this wet in your life. Torn between bucking your hips into Professor Choi’s bulge and pushing back into the touch of his hand, you give a quiet, watery whimper of “One…”

The hand holding your hair lets go, your head falling limply over his knee. “That’s my girl.” He coos lowly, stroking your head.

It distracts you enough that the next harsh slap to your ass feels even more intense than any of the others before it. “T-two…”

“That’s for being so fucking disrespectful. And in front of my colleagues too, no less. It’s like you were asking for me to ruin you.” Soobin tsks. “You need to learn to watch your mouth.”

The urge to say something smart tugs at you again, even if just to prove his point, but another spank rains down on your sore, bruising asscheeks before you can seize the opportunity.

“T-three!”

“And that’s… that’s for pushing me to put you over my lap in the first place. You couldn’t just leave it alone, could you? And now look at you, making me risk my job to teach you a lesson.” Soobin’s voice wavers, filling with an emotion you couldn’t quite place— it was extremely difficult to focus on his words when his fingers began to trail down the curve of your ass to your sticky, quivering folds, rubbings the tip of his thumb right over your clothed core. You moan unabashedly, shifting your hips and opening your legs to give him better access to what was peeking out between your thighs.

The fifth spank never comes. Soobin tugs your panties to the side and pushes two long, thick fingers between your folds, stuttering out a low moan like he was the one being touched. He starts a rough, dizzying pace almost immediately, his fingertips searching for that spongy spot inside of you. You grind your hips back against Soobin’s fingers, a drooling mess against his slacks.

“Pr-Professor…” you whine high in your throat — you want more, want him to speed up, slow down… his touches were driving you wild. You hadn’t been touched like this ever before.

“I told you not to call me that.” He hisses, curling his fingers against your sweet spot and making you keen. “Please, call me by my name.”

“Soobin!” you cry out, writhing against him. You felt a passion rising within you like the hottest fire, clouding your brain. You couldn’t think of anything except of the pleasure that he gave you, couldn’t utter out anything other than his name.

“Such a slut, falling apart just on my fingers…” he chucks huskily, enamored with the filthy wet sounds your cunt made and how they echoed through the quiet office. “I’ve thought about doing this for forever, God… you’re just as beautiful as I thought you’d be.”

His thumb, wet from your arousal, comes down to rub tight, delicious circles against your sensitive, engorged clit, your strangled wail no doubt loud enough to be heard from the hallway. The building ecstasy distracts you enough for him to push in a third finger into your tight hole. The stretch burns but you love it, your hips kicking and moans growing louder and louder as he effortlessly takes you apart. 

“...Too much…!” you manage to choke out, digging your teeth into the fabric of Soobin’s slacks to keep yourself from screaming out in bliss. You felt full to the brim, pushed closer and closer to the edge with every rough flick of your clit and thrust of his perfect talented fingers. He teases a fourth finger around your leaking, stretched out rim, the threat of it alone enough to make your eyes roll back in your head.

“Oh bunny, if this is too much there’s no way you’ll be able to take my cock…” 

The tears that had been brimming in your eyes start to stream freely down your burning cheeks, choked hiccups and sobs wracking your body, but it was the most pleasurable agony you had ever been in. Your hips move with a mind of their own, bucking against Soobin’s cock, thick and hard as a rock, only seeming to grow bigger and bigger every time you rub against it. You relish the sharp intakes of breath he takes every time you move against him. He was starting to fall apart too, you could tell, his voice sounding a lot less dominating and a lot more whiny and pathetic with each roll of his hips up into your tummy.

“I’m gonna… gonna make you cum on my fingers,” he whines low in his throat, his hand completely soaked in your arousal up to the wrist. “You gonna make a mess for me?”

His fingers dig impossibly and wonderfully hard into your sweet spot, that white-hot band of desire in your stomach winding tighter and tighter with each perfectly aimed thrust. You wail and sob, your hand reaching back to grab a tight fistful of his shirt sleeve. “I-I-m— ‘m gonna cum!”

Soobin’s other hand, the one that had been stroking your hair, then comfortingly up and down your back, rises up to smack your ass, the sudden burst of stinging pain making you scream, and for real this time.

 “You gotta ask first, bad girl! Gotta ask for permission b-before you cum…” His voice starts to break, his hips stuttering helplessly— the feeling of his big fat cock grinding hard against you only added to the fire in your belly. 

“Can I cum? Please, sir, can I cum? I’ll be a good girl, I promise, just let me cum!” you had no control over your mouth, hardly any conscious at all— all you could focus on was the tightening in your belly, the way Soobin’s fingers thrusted in and out of your pussy so good… you were his brainless whore, fucked dumb on his fingers. 

“Shit, go on honey, my good girl, my bunny… cum all over me, make a mess!” with his permission you let yourself topple over the edge, moaning and whimpering like a whore as you soak your thighs, Soobin’s hand, his shirt and slacks with your juices. You lay across his lap twitching for quite some time afterwards, your chest heaving like you had just run a marathon… you’d never come before like that in your life, not as hard or for as long. Soobin was with you the whole way as you come down from your high, sweet as can be as he coos praises into your hair and pats your back, kissing your head when you raised it to look over your shoulder at him.

Slowly, you realize that you no longer feel his bulge poking at your belly. You release your iron grip on his shirt to slide your hand down his chest and abdomen, all the way down to gently cup his very wet crotch. “Sir…?”

“S-sorry, bunny… couldn’t help it…” he turns his head away from you to hide his glowing red face, but you can see how his blush spreads down his neck and up to the tips of his ears.

“Did you just… cum?” you ask in awe and disbelief, looking down to see a dark stain spreading across the fabric of his slacks. Soobin only mumbles in response, refusing to answer or turn back to look at you, his blush growing an even deeper shade of red. It was all the confirmation you needed.

Professor Choi came in his pants like a virgin without you even needing to touch him. Something about that alights a blazing inferno in your core, your senses overtaken with need even though you had just had an orgasm yourself.

“I want to taste it.” You breathe out, your overwhelming desire eclipsing any rational thought and taking control of your words.

“Y-you… what?” his head snaps back to you in surprise, his eyes wide and clouded with lust as they gaze headily into yours.

“Your cum, wanna taste it, want it on my tongue…” you’ve never spoken like this to anyone, your voice not feeling like your own— the words spill out from between your lips mindlessly, desperate for more of Soobin’s brain numbing pleasure as you rub him through his slacks. His cock twitches underneath your fingertips, beginning to harden again from the ministrations. “Can I please suck you off, sir?”

“Fuck.” Soobin moans, rough and deep in his chest, the sound shooting straight to your sensitive pussy. “Yeah you can, naughty girl, come on, get on your knees and suck my cock. Clean up my mess.”

Your entire body feels limp and weak, not wanting to cooperate with you as you slide off of Soobin’s lap to the floor. It takes great effort to get yourself situated, kneeling on the floor with your unsteady hands grasping at his thick thighs. He widens his legs to give you more room to get comfortable, one of his big hands instinctively coming down to tangle in your hair as your own begin to slide up the insides of his thighs towards his straining belt buckle.

Ever so slowly and meticulously you unbuckle Soobin’s belt, the jingling of the metal buckle as it’s casted aside like music to your ears. You pull his pants and boxers down together in one rough tug, Soobin canting his hips to help you guide them down his thighs. His cock springs free and slaps obscenely against his belly, smearing the light fabric of his dress shirt in his thick, viscous cum. You can’t help but stop and stare, enamored by the sheer size of it— nearly as thick as a can and twice the length of one, throbbing veins making your mouth water. Cum still leaks from his angry red tip, fat and bulbous, the entirety of his length wet and shiny down to his heavy, twitching balls and neatly trimmed pubes.

You kiss the tip with a delighted grin, the contact barely-there but enough to make Soobin throw his head back and whimper in delight. Your tongue peeks out from between your lips to slide across his slit, earning a high-pitched needy hiss from the man above you, his long fingers tightening their grip on your hair as you lick down his dripping shaft. His thick, salty cum tastes like ambrosia on your tongue, the delicious bitterness quickly getting you drunk. You can’t stop until you lick him completely clean, and even then it’s impossible for you to pull away, the feeling of his weeping cockhead heavy on your tongue far too addicting. Greedily you suck him into your mouth, relishing in the way his girth stretches your lips before swallowing him deeper and deeper until his tip knocks against the back of your throat. You can hardly fit your hands around him, let alone your mouth, fisting what couldn’t fit down your throat as you start bobbing your head. More broken tears collect on your lashes and drip down your wet cheeks, looking utterly ruined and wanton as you gaze up from between Soobin’s legs into his hazy, unfocused eyes.

The eye contact is too much for him— his eyes roll back in his head with a whimper and his cock twitches violently inside of your mouth, the grip he has on your hair shifting from guiding your head along his shaft to tugging you off him with a sudden and disorienting strength. He pulls you off him with a wet pop, a foamy string of saliva connecting from his shiny cockhead to your needy whimpering lips.

“I’m gonna cum again if you don’t stop,” he pants, gasping for breath, “I gotta fuck that pussy first, bunny, please. Need to feel that tight cunt squeezing around me.”

“D’you wanna cum inside?” you goad, a lustful, mischievous grin overtaking your features, “Don’t worry, Soobin, I’m on the pill. You can fill me up if you want to.”

Your words make him visibly shake, what was left of his flimsy resolve crumbling right before your eyes, leaving nothing but primal hunger. “Get on the fucking desk.”

You obey immediately, hardly able to contain your excitement as you stumble to your feet and bend over Soobin’s big oak desk, wiggling your ass in the air invitingly. Your skirt and panties were still pulled up and pushed aside, exposing your dripping puffy hole for his eyes to feast upon.

“So pretty…” he croons behind you, his hands caressing your hips and waist. They smooth over the exposed globes of your ass, his fingers fiddling with the gusset of your drenched panties. Sheer pink lace that compliments your flushed skin, looks so delectable running through Soobin’s fingers as he grabs your asscheeks and spreads them wide. “You look so cute in pink.”

he hisses in appreciation at the sight of your dripping hole quivering, sliding a finger down between your pussy lips to circle at your engorged clit. “Holy fuck, you’re so wet,” he groans, accentuating his claim with a flick of his hand— your pussy squelches obscenely, the lewd, pornographic sound making your cheeks flush. “I can’t take it anymore, I have to be inside of you— you can take it, right bunny?”

“Please!” you beg, hardly able to string together a sentence, “Please, sir, put it in, I need it so bad, need your cock—”

You’re interrupted by the feeling of his cockhead slapping against your entrance, Soobin running the leaky tip up and down your slit a few times just to hear your little whimper before burying himself inside to the hilt in one smooth thrust. He rams into you with a force that knocks the air out of your lungs, his long fat shaft stretching out your hole much more than you could have ever been prepared for. The burn is indescribable, overwhelming every single one of your senses in the best way, your tight gummy walls gripping his cock like a vice as the both of you struggle to adjust.

He's so deep inside of you it feels as if he’s poked through your cervix and into your womb, his big fat mushroom head snug right beneath your belly button. You’re so deliciously full that it makes your head spin, already fucked completely brainless before Soobin had even begun to properly move.

“Does it hurt?” he asks you softly, so gentle compared to how he carved out your insides. In any other circumstance you would find it sweet that he was this concerned, but you were certain that if he didn’t start moving inside of you right then and there, you were going to die.

“More.” you croak back in response. “Give it to me.”

With a winded groan, Soobin relents. He pulls his cock out until just the head was inside of you, giving you not a single moment to prepare before slamming back in with a force that knocks you further up on the desk. The hardwood against your cheek does nothing to muffle your loud, unabashed shriek, so he improvises by shoving two of his thick fingers past your open lips, the musky tang of your own juices filling your mouth when you suck hungrily at the digits. He set up a punishing rhythm within seconds, his hips clapping loudly and wetly against your ass while he muffles your whines and wails. His heavy balls smack against your oversensitive clit with every rough thrust, sending shockwave after shockwave of pleasure straight to your core. The desk cuts into the skin of your hips painfully, but if anything, it only adds to the burning sweetness building steadily in the pit of your belly.

“F-fuck, I’m close already!” Soobin puffs against the shell of your ear, pressing himself up against your back— you’re suddenly thrown back into your dream from the night before, the way the sensations were eerily similar yet nowhere near as good as the real thing. “Gonna cum inside you, is that okay? Wanna see how pretty your pussy looks dripping my cum.”

You can only drool in response, your thoughts fragmented and scattered, babbling desperate nonsense and rolling your hips back to meet Soobin’s thrusts with a dizzying force. Your body vibrates with liquid fire, heating your puffy cunt and quivering thighs— faster than ever before were you hurtling towards your climax, that familiar tightening in your core growing harder and harder to bear. You wanted nothing more than to yield to the tide, let it overtake you completely, and in turn pull Soobin down with you.

Your professor was going to cum inside of you. The fantasies that had haunted you for months truly became a tangible reality. What did you do to make you so lucky?

“This slutty pussy’s sucking me in so fucking tight,” Soobin groans, his thrusts growing sloppier, “Tell me you want my cum, baby, come on. Who’s cum do you want inside of you? Tell me and I’ll give it to you!”

“Yours!” you shriek with the last remaining bits of your energy, your words nearly incomprehensible to how you sniffled and sobbed around Soobin’s fingers. “Want your cum— my professor’s cum inside of me!”

You took a gamble, but it was just what he wanted to hear. With one last aggressive thrust, Soobin bottoms out inside of your pulsating cunt, his bulbous cockhead kissing your battered cervix as he cums with a broken cry. The sensation of his sticky, hot seed splashing against your insides is just what you need to tip over the edge yourself, your walls clamping down on him and milking him for all he’s worth as you ride out your own climax with long, surrendering moans. He hisses from the overstimulation, but he makes no movements to pull out, letting himself soften inside of you as you both struggle to catch your breaths. Thick viscous globs of your mixed cum leak out from where you’re connected, dripping down your thighs and Soobin’s balls to collect in a puddle on the floor.

You gaze over your shoulder to watch as Soobin slowly and carefully pulls out, a creamy, foamy white ring formed around the base of his cock. His glasses were fogged up from his heavy breathing, his hair and clothes even more a mess than it was when he had first opened the door, his pink face so irritatingly kissable when he shoots you a nervous dimpled smile.

You cant help but giggle at him.

“You’re not going to… tell anyone about this, are you?” he asks you anxiously, opening one of the desk’s drawers to retrieve a packet of tissues.

“As long as you explain to me why you told those other professors that I was your best student.” You reply smartly, your grin widening when he scowls.

“It was the only way I could think of how to explain why I talk about you so much.” He admits shyly, wiping down the mess between your thighs. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d rather if we continued that charade so it doesn’t look suspicious when I ask you to come to my office every once in a while.”

“Will you give me that TA position then?”

“You technically don’t qualify,” He laughs, “but I thought that was a given.”

“You won’t regret bending the rules a little, I promise.” You tell him with a wink and a smile. The love-stricken, goofy dimpled grin he shoots back at you makes your heart soar.

“I know I won’t.”

𝒯O𝔐ORROW X 𝒯O𝒢E𝒯HER 𝒯A𝒢L𝒾S𝒯 ⪼

@dwaekkicidal , @11vr1 , @jjunbug , @enigmaticaphrodite , @jellymochii, @mapofthemazeinthemirror, @fullbodyblankets , @hyunj00 , @yunverie, @izzyy-stuff, @arcturus444, @love-ning, @gncbnahc, @dawngyu

to be added to my taglist, please send me an ask or fill out the form here!

[frillydolle]

hiiii !!! so i dont know if it was u who wrote an arthur x reader fic where reader wears their fathers glasses to read? im pretty sure it wasnt, but i thought of it as a good idea. so, what im asking is, would u be comfortable writing something with reader wearing glasses but instead of not seeing things near they don't see things far away. so they're going through life blurry and arthur notices because they keep bumping into things bc they have no sense of depth without their glasses. offers to make them an appointment for eye doctor and helps them choose the glasses and everything ? thought it would be cute (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

arthur morgan x blind female reader

꒰ 𝝑𓏲 ꒱ wearing my glasses right now as i write this :)

“sweetheart, 'm right here— no, 'm here—... y'alrigh'?”

“... i think so.”

that was probably the fourth time u have walked into something? no one else wasn't really sure why, but only because u didn't tell anyone. it was like a secret of urs that u have kept for a long while.

arthur was really the only man who knew u struggled with ur eyesight for as long as u can remember. shooting was a huge problem that u avoid as much as u could despite living in an outlaw gang, arthur would do best his best to help u, but it never went well. u couldn't even hit a bottle!

shooting was definitely not in ur skills. no matter the number of times that arthur willing helps u shoot a gun or help u aim better, nothing worked. u always still managed to shoot a tree or shoot at.. basically nothing, u always missed the three empty bottles he placed for u to gun at.

“mr morgan, i can't— i can't see that bottle, 's too far.”

“want me to bring it closer?”

of course he did. undeniably, he's always had a soft spot for you, but it's not like he'd admit anyone else in camp or you, especially. he treated u like a fragile girl, which u weren't too far from. having bad eyesight did make u feel more vulnerable and fragile, and arthur knew this. makes him just a little protective with you as he's often seen with his fingers intertwined with urs or his arm rests around ur waist. it gave yoy sense of safety and.. comfort.

sometimes the silly man might forget just how blind you really are:( he'd never mean to! he'd just be so so focused on something and he'd bring you with him and it just slips his mind simply!

“arthur, wait—!” you'd say as u try to catch up to his pace, ur hands slightly out just in case u fall. “oh, 'm sorry, sweetheart. 'm right 'ere.”

but now, he decided to help you, proper this time. the two of u are on his horse whike trotting away, your hands around his torso tightly incase you fall or anything like such. you had no idea where he was taking you though, his words being “'s a secret, but nothin' too big, y'know?” nonetheless, you were just glad that he out if camp, noticing how stressed he would be until his blue-green eyes would set on you:(

“... saint denis? what do you have planned, arthur?” you say with a small giggle, looking at him while he's looking straight onto the road in front of him. “jus' a nice day out. you 'n' me.” he replied. huh. a nice day out. just a day out. but days were him were never often that simple, usually ended with someone recognising from blackwater or another robbery, or you talking him out of beating a man for making you uncomfortable. you thanked him regardless, making sure you're safe and well.

then he hitches off his hourse, you follow suit...the doctor's office? what was he doing here? i mean, he's fine, right? you're fine too except your eyesight, of course. wait, was he—

“c'mon, darlin'. yer fine, i promise ya.” he says as he sticks his arm to you, waiting for you to hold his arm before walking into the building. he knew you were slightly anxious about it, but he was willing to help you in any way he could.

a man like him... blood on his hands, lives taken because of him, rough and callous from hard work, a man like him with all bite and bark like a violent dog. that man bring a sweet girl like you to the doctor's office to get you sorted out with a new pair of glasses. ♡

[trulyradicalactivist]

Love Is Never Wrong.

Imagine being told that something as natural as your own heartbeat is wrong. Imagine waking up every morning, knowing that simply feeling love could make you a target for violence and hatred. That it could put your life, your job, your relationships, and your health at risk. For millions of people around the world, maybe even more than that, this is not just a nightmare, it is their reality. It is what they deal with daily. They are hated and punished simply because of who they're attracted to. They are treated as if love were a crime instead of a fundamental part of human existence. But love is not a crime. And no one, absolutely no one, deserves to be hated or persecuted for something as natural as their attraction. This applies not only to those who are gay, bisexual, pansexual, asexual, or so forth. It also applies to paraphiles. It applies to anyone and everyone with an attraction seen as abnormal by the society we live in. A society that forces normality down our throats and insists that we cannot and will not love who we love.

Love is one of the most powerful and universal human experiences. Not just romantic love or sexual love either. Platonic love, familial love, love between partners, unlabeled love of all kinds. It brings people together, it gives many people a purpose or a reason to continue when that big fight they fight begins to wear down, and fills our hearts with joy and warmth. Love, in all its forms, has been celebrated in poetry, music, and art for centuries because it is one of the most beautiful things about being alive. So why is it that some people are told their love is wrong? Why are some forced to hide, to fear, to suffer simply because their heart leads them in a direction others don’t understand?

Love, whether a choice or something given the day you were born, whether you have very little or so much it spills from your soul, whether it is romantic or it is platonic or anything between, is as natural as the color of your eyes or the sound of your laughter. To hate someone for their attraction is to hate them for something that is simply a part of who they are. How can that ever be justified? How can you justify hatred of that extreme?

The reality of this form of persecution is heartbreaking. Families turn their backs on their own children. Friends become strangers. People are denied opportunities, stripped of their rights, and, in the worst cases, harmed or even killed, just because of who they love.

The emotional toll of this hatred is devastating. Imagine a child growing up with the weight of secrecy crushing them, terrified of being honest about who they are because they fear rejection or violence. Thinking that what they are growing into, queer or para, will make them a monster. Imagine someone longing to hold the hand of the person they love in public, but instead, they lower their eyes and keep their distance, afraid of the stares, the whispers, or worse. Maybe that person is of the same gender or sex as them, maybe that person is of their same blood.

This is not just unfair. It is cruel. It is unjustifiable. It is bigoted.

Hatred, discrimination, and violence leave scars, both visible and invisible. They push people into loneliness, depression, and despair. They rob people of the right to love freely, to be themselves without fear, to speak their truth in a way they feel comfortable and safe doing so. No one deserves to carry that pain simply because of who they are attracted to. The world does not need more hate. It does not need more judgment, more rejection, or more suffering. What the world needs is more love. More compassion. More understanding.

If we want to live in a kinder, more just world, we must reject the idea that anyone’s love is worth less than another’s. We must reject the thought that a love could be taboo or unnatural. We must open our hearts and stand against hatred in all its forms. Because in the end, the only thing that should matter about love is that it is real. That it is honest. That it is freely given.

And that it is never, ever something to be ashamed of.

[namgyu-nurture]

Gang okay so, request.

Ahem

So Dae ho (ofc) x fem!reader, basically dae ho has a slight puppy crush on reader and he has a nightmare, reader helps by cuddling up to him when he has that nightmare. :D (ps I hc he loves cuddles and gets instantly relaxed when he feels warmth against him, aka cuddles.)

THANK YOU !! :P

Whispers of comfort - Kang dae-ho x fem!reader

Warnings: none this is pure fluff 💪💪

A/N: I love dae ho hes SUCH a cutie i love this guy like look at his smile AWHHHH

It was night and you couldn’t sleep, the horrors of the first game keeping you awake, how so many people died, the lives they had.

You had made a connection with a guy with the number 456, being stood next to him in red light green light, seeing his bravery, how he wasn’t afraid to try and save people. He let you sit with his group after the game, you met some of the players that were friends with him after the first vote.

A young man suggested we share names, he claimed his name was “Kang Dae-ho, ‘Dae’ as in ‘big’, ‘ho’ as in ‘tiger’” he had a cool name and we went round sharing our names.

You overheard one of the men, 390, Jung-bae say he used to be in the marines, Dae-ho gasped and smiled, he was in the marines aswell. You assumed it was a drawn out joke but Dae-ho started referring to Jung-bae as ‘sir, yes sir’. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself at how stupid you found it. Not necessarily in a bad way though.

This leads you to now. You lay awake as you hear someone stirring below you, they sound like they were in pain, scared shitless. You leaned your head over the side of the bed to look, Dae-ho.

Without a thought you crawled down and sat on the foot of his bed. You could tell he was having a nightmare so you thought it was best to wake him. You shook his shoulders slightly and he jolted awake, sitting upright almost cartoon like. If he was any taller he would’ve banged his head against the bunk above.

“Hey.. are you okay? Were you having a nightmare..?” You asked him softly, he looked at you, his cheeks slightly tear stained, he had been crying in his sleep.

“I- yeah- yeah. No worries sorry if I startled you. Just uh a bad dream” he looked away like it was casual but you could sense the embarrassment burning through his cheeks.

You sucked at comfort so you offered up the best you could. “Do you want a hug.?” You asked sweetly. He nodded weakly and you scooted closer, hugging him, his face was in the crescent of your neck and you held him close. “It’ll be okay.. okay?”

Dae-ho could only let out a “mhm”. You could tell he was holding back tears, he was embarrassed and still frightened from his imagination. You held him close.

“Let it all out mhm?” She said patting his back comfortably. “Was it about the marine stuff..?” You ask and he went quiet. “It’s okay you don’t have to tell me.” You reassure him. “It’s okay, you’re not there anymore.. you’re safe” and he nodded hugging her back tightly.

He felt safe in her embrace, he didn’t want to let go, it was like a shield. From all the had dreams.. bad memories. When you went to pull away he tightened his grip, hugging you tighter “stay.. please.. Dont go..” he whispered. And how could you say no to his sweet little plea. You stayed and held him close as you both found your way into a warm slumber.

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

Home (you) | Gi-hun x Wife!Reader |

Summary: He finally returns to you.

Warnings: Post S1 - Non canon events - Non canon background for Gi-hun - Sad!Gi-hun - Paranoid!Gi-hun - Trauma - Soft!Moments  - NON CANON EVENTS FROM S2  - ANGST -

When Gi-hun was left with nothing but his underwear and a credit card full of zeros his mind did nothing but drift off.

He could not forget them. The others, the ones who died in order for him to be here today. Alive, looking at the account, sounds and smells from the city, ignorance from what had happen to him and others.

Gi-hun knew you were there, at the small aparment you two shared. The small yet filled with love place. It was his safe heaven, the home he loved. Where you waited for him, never once judged him and rather tried to help.

You have been nothing but the best wife, woman and friend. More than what he could ask for and more of what he deserves.

In his mind you should have left him, for someone better. But he could be selfish and when it came to you he was.

But now after everything that had happen..did he deserve to go back to you ? To his life ? When he had promise that he would not dissapear again? But he still did ? Knowing he may not be back ?

His mind driffted back and he found himself walking without a destination, not caring for the cold or nasty looks along the way.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Another morning came, the bed felt cold but you have to get used to it. Thats whar you keep telling yourself. However when you see the ring on your finger you cant help but let out some tears before getting up and prepare for the day.

It has been at least three months now since Gi-hun dissapear without a way to find him.

You tought the loan sharks would look for you but that never happened. Part of you did wonder if they had killed him but when being confronted by you they just said a quick excuse and went off.

You hated your life without him. Besides the pity looks you got at your work or the few words of compassion, you missed him. A lot. You were used to his laught, to his touch, the silly jokes he would make...but that was in the past now.

With a bottle of shake you went to your home. Another day, another week, you should think on moving maybe that way it would hurt less. But the memories with him were deep in your mind and you could not shake them off.

You were going to Open the old door when you took notice that it was slighty Open.

A robbery ? The loan sharks decided to come ?

You moved the door slowly, the old thing making a sound that felt louder than it actually was. The aparment was dark, no light or sight of life. It was just and the forniture.

Or at least thats what you thoguth when suddendly you hear a muffled "fuck" and "I never cleaned that"

Even if it was small you knew in an instant from who it was. You went there, not caring if maybe your mind was playing you a cruel trick. You needed to know.

Once outside the bedroom you turned on the lights seeing his form trying (and failing) to repair some broken base he had most likely knock off.

You also took notice on the big spoot on the wall, yeah it was caused by him once and he never took care of it, but it added personality to the room.

He looked at you. Eyes big like a fish, he was a mess. Hair larger and dirty.

"Gi-hun?" You called taking a step towards him while he took one back. He did not want you to see him like this. He came on impulse, a rational part of him said to not come, but his feelings....he missed you. Wanted you again by his side.

"Please tell me this is real" You tried again voice now breaking as you stopped one hand reaching for him.

Gi-hun felt his heart break, he moved slowly taking your hand in his, the same hand that he had used to fight off Sang-woo was now holding yours.

He almost fell as you pulled him into a big hug, crying on his chest, you had to take a moment to listen to his heart beat. You eyes going over his face.

"Oh Gi-hun...what happened to you?" You asked pulling him for a hug again his own hands returning it with more force. He never wanted to let go of you again.

"(Y/N)...Please" His voice broke at the end "Hold me, I will tell you everytning but please"

He fell on his knees you followed still hugging him, his cries were muffled by your shirt as she held you like you were the only thing that could keep him sane.

"Shh I got you Gi-hun, let it out"

He cried for a bit more only moving when he felt you move from discomfort because of how you two were.

"Gi-hun...you should take a bath" You said to him very careful "I can prepare it for you.."

"Will you stay?" He asked his eyes letting out the raw vulnerability he was feeling

"Of course I will, I will stay with you"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Gi-hun havent feel this...relaxed in such a long time. You carefully washed his hair, and relaxed his tensed back. There was nothing sexual out of it. Just you taking care of him.

And it felt like heaven.

"Im going to brush your hair a bit is that alright with you?" You asked from behind him inside the bathtub  worried that it might trigger something from him.

But Gi-hun just nodded letting out a content sound when the brush made contact with his hair. You were very patient with him, slowly untangling his now long hair. He knew he needed to get it cut off. But he had let himself be lost and...and he could not bring to take care of himself.

"We should also cut your beard too..if you want" You softly asked after you ended with his hair doing a small bow that made him look quiet cute.

He touched his beard without realizing how long it had got. But finally gave a nod to you. He saw you move towards the cabin getting the tools and now taking a seat in front of him.

"Im going to do this slow, ok? You tell me if I need to stop" You tone let him knew that he was the one in charge of the situation. You did not know what had happen to him but it must be more than the old threats the loan sharks would use against him.

No, this was something worse. And you wanted him to feel safe with you.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

After it you offered him a fresh change of clothes. He asked you to stay with him and you nodded. He was slimmer than the last time you have seen him. And there were some bruises too. You wanted to ask him, to know what did happen. But you also knew he would come around, that you needed to be patient with him.

After he changed he muttered that he was tired and you were ready to guide him back towards the bedroom you two shared.

To him the bed sheets felt softer than he did remember. Even if the mattress was old it was better than the beds from the games. A shiver ran down his spine and he had to hold his head to prevent memories from coming back.

"Gi-hun..."

"Can you get me some water...? Please" Gi-hun asked his voice almost breaking. He did not want you to see him like this. So broken so....

He had no words to describe the pain he was feeling.

He felt when you left, and he decided to take some deep breaths, letting the familiar smell of the room fill his sense. He was back, he was at home.

"Gi-hun? I got your water?" You said from besides him giving him the glass as he gulped it down.

And you were with him.

He finally looked at you. Seeing how tired you were. It must have been difficult for you. To be alone and worried over him. He wanted to blame himself even more for leaving you like that. He did not deserve you and part of him wanted you to hate him for leaving and then be back without a explaination.

But as he looked all over you his eyes ended in your hand, most precise on the ring. You were still using it, a solid proof you never gave up on him.

"(Y/N).." Gi-hun said your name with so much care as he took your hands on his bring them up to kiss them. "Im sorry, im sorry that I left you. Im sorry for not coming back sooner" He said between broken sobs. "I know I must have caused you so much pain, and im so sorry for it"

"Gi-hun please stop, you know I would have waited for you a lifetime" You responded gently caressing his face "I dont know what happened to you, and you dont have to tell me. I will wait till you are ready. Just know, I love you. And that wont ever change, just...dont leave me again"

"Never, I wont ever leave you again (Y/N)...you are all I have and all I will ever have. You are the most important thing to me, and from now on I will do my best to show you how grateful im for you being by my side. For putting up with me"

You smiled at him giving him a soft kiss then pushing him down so he could get comfortable.

"And you are the best thing that ever happened to me Gi-hun. You dont have to prove me anything" You laid besides him both facing each other. He pulled you against his chest his face on your hair.

"Promise you wont ever let me go? Not tonight or ever ? Even if...things change" Gi-hun knew he was a different Man now, he could not just ignore his trauma. He was positive nightmares would still come to haunt him and that at some point he would tell you the truth.

But not tonight. Tonight all he wanted was for you to hold him and promise him that everything would be fine.

"I wont ever let you go Gi-hun, not tonight or ever. You are with me till death do us apart, remember ? Now get some sleep I will be here once you wake up"

And that was all he needed to hear. For the first time since he won these games...he got a nice sleep. Besides you anything seemed to be possible. Even finding his way back to life.

[wlwsoccerfics]

Lifeline (BethMeadXVivMiedemaXMeadReader)

AN: this Is Just my Personal experience. It can be very different for someone else.

Warnings: Teen Character is autistic, this includes some personal experiences with autism. Short OS.

You knew you could always count on Beth & Viv. These two were your Safe space. Beth was your older sister so that's why you could always count on her & Viv came into both of your lives making both of you feel really loved.

Viv & Beth both were really protective of you. If people didn't knew better they would probably think they were your parents. Which was (kind of) true in a sense.

Your autism was diagnosed by the age of 10. So 5 years ago. You often get told that people don't notice you have autism when they see you. Which always resulted in you thinking that it was an odd thing to say. But then you remember you became quite good at masking.

People close to you, like your Viv and your Bethy, knew your routines and things you needed to do or needed to have to be comfortable. Other people that were close to you were Jill(Viv's fellow dutch teammate), Leah, Lessi, Kerstin(also one of Viv's fellow dutch teammate) & last but not least Wally.

You sat in your room doing your homework before you would leave for practice with Beth. You practiced with the Arsenal Senior Team alot. But also with the youth Team. Getting in as much practice as possible.

"Y/n, we have to leave soon! Are you ready?" your older sister asked you. You turned around in your Chair, nodding your head.

"Give me a few more minutes to finish this! I want this to be done now! Before practice starts! I always finish homework before practice!" You Tell Beth.

"I know you do, Love Bug!" Your sister replied. It's a Nickname she has given you when you were really little. And you very much liked it when Beffy or Viv called you that.

"I will be done soon!" You told her and you finished the rest of your within five minutes. So you grabbed your things and sat down in the passenger seat of Beths Car. You called Viv right away because you always did that on your way to practice and it was your ritual. It wouldn't be a good practice If didn't call her.

"Hallo liefje love!" You hear Viv say on the other side of the Phone. Her voice was always so welcoming and warm. She always managed to make you feel loved and welcomed.

"hey Viv. I finished all my homework before we left cause you know how important it is to me!" You informed her.

"I do know that! You always are quite fast though! I could never do that!" She told you. Beth was smiling, she loved the bond you had with Viv.

"oh Viv you are so smart and you could do it too! Everyone is different. I may be faster then you when it comes to this but that's okay. My brain is just wired differently!" You tried to explain.

"thank you for calling me smart, liefje love!" She answered and giggled softly. So did you. You knew by now that when people giggled at something you said that they weren't making fun of you. The people you knew and loved you could read by now.

"you are welcome. Did you sleep well? How are you feeling?" You wanted to know.

"i did sleep well. And i am great! Better now that my favorite Mead sister has been calling me!" She said, knowing Beth could hear her.

"hey! Excuse me?!" Beth replied, laughing though. You smile at that.

"i am fine with being the second favorite mead sister, as long as i am your favorite liefje love!" You let her know. Being serious about it. Cause you really loved the nickname.

"of course you are my favorite liefje Love! You are the one and only!" She explained. Sounding just as serious. She asked you how you were and you told her that you were good and excited for practice. You really missed having her at Arsenal though. It was a big change for you but both Viv and Beth made sure you didn't feel like something was missing. You talked on the Phone or Facetimed multiple times a day. So things were easier for you now.

When you arrived at practice you went to greet all the Girls individually, some of them you invented Handshakes with.

"how are you, little Meado?" Alessia asked. You smiled at her.

"i am good! Finished all my homework before we came here!" You proudly tell her.

"of course you did, you are the smartest on the Team!" Leah answered. You nodded your head in agreement.

"possibly. In a lot of things. But not all of them! Mostly just good at things that interest me!" You explained. Smiling gently.

Wally was smiling at that. She thought your rambling about certain topics was cute and she always said If she ever has Kids she hopes they are just like you.

Practice started and you were very focused on the drills. Enjoying them. Glad to have found a safespace with your sister and Viv and with the Team. They were your Lifeline.

[parvulous-writings]

Coud you please do a Vi SFW?

Warnings: None!

Notes: We're returning to our roots with this one gang   My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too! If you’d like to support me more, consider reblogging! I’d appreciate it loads!!

A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Vi's affection is mainly shown through physical means. An arm around your shoulders, a hand grasping for yours - all the way to cuddling and tangling herself with you on a sofa or a bed. She loves having your near to her - particularly in private. When you're alone together, she finds a way or excuse to touch you 90% of the time. In public, she's a lot more respectful of your personal space, choosing to mostly just stand nearby rather than have her hands all over you. The only time this changes is if someone who isn't herself starts getting too close to you, whether it's being flirty or threatening you. If this is the case, she makes a show of putting an arm around your waist or shoulders, making it painfully clear that you are with her.

B - Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? Where does the friendship start?)

Vi is one of those friends that can quickly become a ride or die. She is willing to do a hell of a lot for those who are near and dear to her, be that helping with heavy lifting, spending quality time, or putting someone into their place. It's more than likely that your friendship started after bumping into Vi post-street brawl. Though bristly at first, she easily warms to you, once you've shown her you're worthy of trust.

C - Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Vi does love a cuddle; typically, when cuddling in bed she prefers being the big spoon, allowing her to encase you in her arms and give her absolute certainty that you're safe and away from harm. If you're on the sofa, though, she very much enjoys laying over you - like a big blanket of muscle.

D - Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking, cleaning, ect?)

Vi grew up with a rather close-knit family unit, and deep down a part of her does miss that, so she would want to settle down - even if it's not necessarily with kids or anything of that ilk. Just having a place to call home with you would be good enough for her. She can't cook particularly well; it's passable and edible, sure, but she's not usually proud of it. The same with her cleaning - sometimes she just doesn't think to do it. She was in prison through her teens - there wasn't really anything to clean, so trying to get that into her routine is.... Difficult.

E - Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

She would be incredibly blunt with it. She'd try to somewhat save your feelings, but I don't think she'd beat around the bush. If it's not working out, what's the point in trying to force things to keep going, even if it's just a few extra minutes? She's also not great at verbally expressing her emotions, so this just adds to her bluntness.

F - Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? Do they wanna get married?)   

Vi is fine with commitment as a whole; but the idea of marriage carries a heavy sense of finality to her. She's not really likely to leave you as-is, why do you need to go through the fuss and stress of getting married? For a piece of paper? In her head, something like that is a privilege - something that mainly those from Piltover get to do. If you really insist on marriage she'll oblige you, but she doesn't need a marriage to feel or be committed to you.

G - Gentle (How gentle are they both physically and emotionally?)

Vi doesn't have much trouble being gentle physically: a few careful touches here and there, cradling your face when you're having an intimate moment or holding you close when you're having a particularly stressful day. It's more the emotional side of things where she struggles a bit. Not all the time, but there are moments where she has trouble expressing herself in the way she wants to to you, or struggles in showing a more vulnerable side of herself.

H - Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it, and what are they like?)

The most common time to get a hug from Vi is when she's saying goodbye - or that she'll see you in a little while. They're quite quick, and she makes sure to squeeze you tightly every time, as if she's trying to imprint the feel of you against her into her mind. Outside of those times you're more likely to get a cuddle than anything else.

I - I Love You (How fast do they say the “love” word?)

She's very reluctant to say it. It's not that she doesn't love you, it more that expressing that love in a verbal way makes her incredibly nervous. She does say it from time to time; birthdays, special holidays, in the dead of night where and when there's no one else that could possibly hear her. It takes her a good few years, and slow working, to start saying it when other people are around - even if they're out of earshot.

J - Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What are they like when jealous?)

Vi trusts you. She knows that you wouldn't leave her without saying anything, and that if anything were to happen, you'd talk to her about it. However, this doesn't stop that stab of jealousy that she feels in her chest whenever she sees someone getting too close to you for her comfort. Her first port of call is to go to you, get close and establish her boundary - usually a hand snaking around your waist and tugging you to her. Then, if the situation continues, she gets verbal - usually snapping at whoever dare try to take you from her; even if it's nothing like that.

K - Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Vi's kisses can go one of two ways; 1 - it's a brief peck on the lips or your cheek, so quick that you end up debating with yourself if it actually happened - Vi had gone right back to whatever she had been doing before, it was like she hadn't stopped her task. 2 - It's full of heat, passion, and you are not getting away from her any time soon - leaving that kind of kiss breathless is the bare minimum. She is grabbing whatever flesh of yours she can hold, pulling and keeping you close to her. That woman is not letting you go without some major resistance - she needs you too much.

L - Little Ones (How are they around kids?)

Vi is pretty good around kids. If you're leaving kids with her for an extended period of time, you need to set some firm boundaries. Like. Make it abundantly clear what can and cannot be done with the kids - otherwise there will be chaos. Vi is very much like that aunt you can get away with almost anything around. She won't actively take you to seek out activities to break set rules, but if the kids were to break said rules by themselves? Well they've done it now, there's not a whole lot she can do, right?

M - Morning (What are mornings like with them?)

By the time you wake up, Vi is usually awake already - sometimes by several hours. She's used to rising incredibly early, and although she doesn't always physically get out of bed that early anymore, she does still spend that time doing something she finds productive. Namely watching you sleep. The reason she doesn't immediately get up is because, if you're sharing a bed with her, she usually wakes up tangled with you in some way or another. Play your cards right, and she'll spend half the morning keeping you in bed just for an excuse to hold you close - she does love herself a cuddle in bed.

N - Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

Most nights you have to actively try and coax Vi into bed. The means can - and kind of have to - vary, but Vi normally tries to resist for a little while. She's one of those people who tries and stays up as late as she can physically manage, as a way to try and reclaim some of her own time. When you get past your mild frustration, though, and take a more tender approach, that's when she will usually come to bed, cuddling as close as physically possible, to try and soothe herself to sleep.

O - Open (When do they open up about themselves?)

From time to time. She'll often say if something reminds her of a family member who has passed, or share a memory that's sprung to mind that she thinks you may enjoy. When it comes to genuinely being vulnerable, and sharing her deeper, harder to process emotions, she does struggle. She doesn't know what to do with all those years of pent up hurt and pain. She tries her best, but she doesn't want to end up lashing out.

P - Patience (How easily angered are they?)

In day to day life? Not particularly quick to anger; mistakes in chores or delays in the daily schedule aren't much of a big deal to her. Sure, they can be a bit annoying sometimes, but they can be fixed or accommodated. Under pressure, though, is entirely different. When stressed and pressed for, well, anything, Vi becomes snappy, harsh, and her temper has one hell of a short fuse. She doesn't get physical, but she's usually 2 seconds away from saying something that she will probably regret once she calms down.

Q - Quizzes (How much do they remember about you?)

She easily remembers some of the basic things; your favourite colour, your favourite food, the things you like in general. She's... A little bit scattered when it comes to things like your birthday, though - she oftentimes confuses it with your anniversary. She means well, she just hasn't really got the head for dates. She'll get you a gift you like on both days, though! She rarely ever forgets completely.

R - Remember (Favorite memory with you?)

The first time she opened up properly to you. You'd been together a fair while, so she took you on a walk through the Lanes, eventually winding up where you could see the few remaining markers of her younger siblings. The splodges of red paint left behind by Mylo, the place where Claggor had gotten himself stuck when on the run from enforcers. She even told you of when she had brought Jinx - Powder, back then - to this very spot in an attempt to lift her spirits. She told you of her birth mother and father, of Vander, and how her family life had just gone progressively more and more downhill - and you listened. You didn't butt in, you didn't try and force her to see 'the bright side'. You sat, you held her hand, and you listened. There are no words that she can use to describe her gratitude to you for that moment.

S - Security (How protective are they?)

Quite - Vi often worries about how you might need to defend yourselves or escape a situation. It's not because she doesn't trust you to handle yourself - she does, she thinks you could talk down or weasel out of any situation, and she knows you'll bolt if you really need to - but it is something she worries about a lot, and something that does frequently come up if there's a disagreement.

T - Try (How much effort do they put in?)

Vi tries quite a bit. In her eyes, you deserve more, so she does try. She'll try and keep the place tidy-ish - tidy to her standards, anyway - and do some cooking every now and again. She tries much more in ways of gifts, though - though perhaps not always what you think they may be, she always makes an effort to point out how useful it could be to you, or if it's something more sentimental, how it made her think of you.

U - Ugly (What are their bad habits?)

She puts her shoes on furniture - whether she's still wearing them or has just taken them off. It gets mud and dirt everywhere. She also tends to forget to put dishes away once you've washed them up (she also forgets to wash them up fairly frequently).

V - Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not a whole lot - she works out quite a lot, but that's more for her own health and strength. She keeps herself as clean as she can - washing her face, bating etcetera, but other than that, not a whole lot. She sometimes has the urge to change her hair, but that's more of an emotionally motivated decision. All in all, so long as you think that she looks good, she's more than happy with her appearance.

W - Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

You're ingrained into her routine now - she'd definitely feel your absence if you were gone for any length of time; she doesn't like when you're not there in the morning to hold or to greet when she wakes up. Even if it's not a full separation, and you're just out somewhere for the night, she feels it deep in her.

X - Xtra (Random HC)

She loves when you touch her - not necessarily in a sexual way, or even in hugs, but the feeling of your hands on her brings her much joy and comfort. You tracing the planes of her skin or the ink of her tattoos is one of her favourite ways to wind down, and having your fingers brush through her hair (especially when they brush against her undercut)? Pure. Heaven. Simple as. If she's having a really bad day, that is a surefire way to cheer her up.

Y - Yuck (Things they don’t like either in general or a partner?)

Someone who doesn't stick to their word, or to their morals. She loves seeing reliability and someone being steadfast; if she doesn't see that, she doesn't feel like she can wholly trust someone. And of course, without trust, there can be no real love. Other than that, if she can get a good connection with someone, everyone's fair game, really.

Z - Zzz (Sleep habits)  

Vi only sleeps the minimal amount that she needs to to keep her true self or be able to perform tasks. She finds it incredibly difficult to get to sleep without being thoroughly exhausted first; so part of the coaxing that you have to do involves working out - a good, reliable way to tire her out. She also doesn't need a lot in terms of possessions; so long as she has somewhere to lay, she's able to get some sleep. Though, on the odd occasion that she does try to sleep on the floor, you're eventually able to drag her groggy self into your shared bed, mostly with promises of affection and cuddles.

[ieetbeez]

Small Rant About RE

Hello gang... This has been on my mind for awhile. Today we're talking about Resident Evil and particularly Leon stans. Now I'm gonna come out and say I am one of them! I love that silly little blonde man and he's like number 1 on my favorite capcom white boy tier list next to Cody from Final Fight/SF.

tw: mentions of rape, pedophilia, incest, abuse, and my opinion

Let me make it clear, I'm not kink shaming, I'm not advocating for censorship. Art and literature shouldn't be censored. Sex is cool. Kink is cool (when safe and consensual).

I'm gonna be one of those fans real quick and say, I've been an RE fan since I was like 7. That doesn't really mean much since I can't drink legally but I've been in love with Leon since elementary school. I watched my Dad and brother play RE6 co-op and man... Aka I've been in the fandom for a fat minute. Before the RE2 remake came out I'd see the occasional Dead Dove fic but that's whatever. But I have never seen this much dark romance about Leon of all people!

Like. Call it the T-Virus the way it's everywhere I swear I can't scroll down the damn tag without getting hit with a sexual crime. And let me say, I'm not new to fandom culture. I take don't like don't read to heart (I'm super picky LMAO). And I understand that, that's just how big fandoms are, more people, more bad eggs. I'm sure the majority of y'all are sweet people.

BUT I feel like I shouldn't have to say that romanticizing things like pedophilia, rape, abuse, and incest is disgusting in the big year 2025 but here we are. Honestly, I feel this way about a lot of the fics of other fandoms I'm in. I feel crazy seeing it everywhere and it makes me feel like some sort of sexual puritan. Am I insane for wanting freaky smut and not ...freaky smut??

There for sure is a bigger conversation here about how easily accessible porn is and how quick people to fall into these pipelines. Or how booktok caused a rise in the normalization of dark romance troupes and just pure porn writing (I still hate icebreaker). Or how quick form constant content is slowly leaking it's way into everything. But we’d be here for forever…

And like, it's just completely out of character?? Like if you're gonna write about that can it at least be in character? Wesker fits the dark romance thing LEAGUES better. But LEON?? THE POLICE OFFICER?? Did you even watch a walkthrough? Leon is a sweet upstanding guy with lots of trauma, that is the last thing he'd do to ANYONE! Not saying fics have to be completely accurate all the time but there's literally nothing fun about "Omg what if Leon RAPED you!?" HES NOT THE EVIL RESIDENT HERE GUYS! At some point it's not even about Leon (or whoever the fic is about) anymore, it's just someone wanting to share their sexual fantasies online.

These topics are almost never written with any care and are insanely insensitive to the survivors of these acts. I don't know, sexual crimes are literally some of the most deplorable acts of hatred and depravity someone can do onto another person. I can't imagine getting off to the suffering of others (in a heinous crime way not BDSM way) (BDSM is cool). Have some fucking empathy and stop thinking with your goon wad guys <3

Like at least take it to AO3 so that I can filter it out or smth...

Edit: I just woke up and remembered what else I was gonna say.

You can tell a lot about a person by how they treat their fictional characters. Another thing I don’t like are the Gooner mods for the games. Like they’re fun every once in a while and like if it’s a capcom game you have to expect it. At some point though, it just stops being sexy and feels gross or uncomfortable.

Idk maybe I’m in the minority here but there has never been a single time where I was playing any RE game and thought to myself, “man… I wish I could see Leon’s end rod whipping in the wind rn…” Obviously, I wanna see that man oiled up butt booty naked doing jumping jacks like as most normal people do but… zawg…

That’s also like an actual person?? At least for the remakes. Maybe this just isn’t my dove to eat but the treat Leon like some sort doll. I know it’s kinda weak to be like this for a fictional person but yeah </3

[kotton-kandy953]

❏ 𝐓𝐄𝐘𝐕𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑 !

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🔪 love interest ꒱ . . . yandere ! k. kazuha ! high school ! au x fem ! reader

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🔪 format ꒱ . . . headcannons

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🔪 warnings ꒱ . . . obsessive themes, stalking, yandere themes

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🔪 authors note ꒱ . . . I love kazuha so, so, so much omgggg || teyvat high school simulator homepage!

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🔪 word count ꒱ . . . 0.4k

Kaedehara Kazuha always has this dreamy, almost romantic look in his beautiful, red eyes as he daydreams. His cheek resting in his bandaged palm as he watches the autumn leaves fall from the tall trees out the window. Well, when he’s not gazing over at your elegant figure, that is.

Kazuha always carries around this old, ruled, notebook he uses daily to write down different poems, haikus or whatever he feels is right. A majority of them being love poems addressed to an anonymous recipient named, “my love” or “darling.”

Unbeknownst to you, his “love” he just adores writing to is you.

If he ever dared muster up the courage, he would gladly give you every single poem he has expressing his undying, and quite obsessive, love for you. But that may never come to be.

On the topic of his poems for you, the first ones would start off simple. Almost as if you were fascinating to him, in a way. Despite him not ever calling you out by name, by the way he explicitly described you, you could instantly decipher who he was talking about.

Once Kazuha began to fall in love, to fall hard, actually, his poems became more romantic. Describing his feelings as almost obsessive, knowing a bit more information about you than you’d feel comfortable with another classmate knowing.

Actually, Kazuha loves poetry so much that he began a poetry club at school, making himself the president. Sometimes, he’ll even ask you to proofread some of his works. Obviously not the poems he dedicated to you, because if you ever found out how obsessed he is with you… he prefers not to think of the outcome.

If he ever notices you a friend of his struggling in a subject, he would gladly help you out. Because of his kind personality and soft voice, he’s a great tutor.

When having to write an essay or speech, he’ll use big words, phrases that most people don’t understand.

He takes band (with Xiao) and plays the flute, a wood WIND instrument.

His favorite classes are English and Social Studies/History.

Kazuha is an overall well behaved student, he’s polite and kind to whoever he comes across. But when he’s jealous, it’s a totally different thing. Everyone knows that… disposing of someone permanently is really bad. So why does that thought refuse to leave his mind?

No matter what words he jots down into his notebook filled with poety, his raging jealousy relentlessly eats away at his already deteriorating sanity.

Nevertheless, he shouldn’t be afraid to get a little blood on his hands for his darling, right?

Kazuha doesn’t like the idea of “stalking” you. Believes that everyone should respect your each other’s privacy. Nevertheless, he will watch you from afar while you’re out alone in public. He has to make sure you return home safely every afternoon!

What would he ever do with himself if he never saw you again?

[songbirdseung]

older / park jonseong

jongseong tried his best to be the man for you, to be the one you deserved, did everything for you, showed you how much he loved you. but only gets a heartbreak in return. song recommendation: older by conor matthews & universe by thuy

i think it's safe to say that most people find childhood love to be one of the purest and most endearing things. there’s something so innocent about the way two kids can form a bond—stable yet naive, built on nothing but shared laughter, pinky promises, and the simple joy of each other’s company. to the parents watching from the sidelines, it’s heartwarming. seeing their child shower someone else with love, even in the smallest ways, reassures them that they’ve raised a kid who knows how to care, how to cherish. it feels like proof that they’ve done something right.

but on the other side of the argument, there are those who believe young love is nothing more than fleeting foolishness; that kids have no business being in relationships, that they’re too young to grasp what love truly means or to handle the inevitable heartbreak that follows. let children be children, they say.

your parents and jay’s, however, never thought that way. in their eyes, you and jay were something special. two kids who found each other early, who had the rare gift of experiencing love when most were still figuring out friendship. they saw it as a blessing; something rare, something precious. after all, how lucky were you to find someone who made your heart race before you even understood what it meant? someone who, even in your youth, you were certain you could never be without?

but love, as beautiful as it was, had a way of making people blind. and for as much as your parents adored the bond you and jay shared, they also overlooked the dangers of it. because love at that age wasn’t just innocent... it was reckless. it was consuming. it was two kids falling headfirst into something they didn’t fully understand, unable to see the consequences waiting down the road.

how does someone go from being a stranger to becoming your entire world? how does a person you never even noticed suddenly become the only thing occupying your mind? how does someone go from nothing… to everything?

it started small, as most arguments do. just a spark, something barely worth acknowledging... until suddenly, it wasn’t.

"you don't get it," jay huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, brows furrowed in frustration.

"what is there to get?" you shot back, voice sharp, laced with something you didn’t quite understand yet. "you’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

“it’s not nothing.”

you scoffed, throwing your hands up. “oh, right. because me walking home with someone else one time is apparently the end of the world.”

jay exhaled, looking away, jaw clenched so tightly you swore you could hear his teeth grind. “it’s not about that.”

“then what is it about, jay?”

he hesitated.

you could see the way he was struggling, the way he was trying to find the right words, like he knew exactly what he wanted to say, but didn’t know if he should say it. and it frustrated you. the silence, the tension, the fact that you were even fighting in the first place over something so stupid, something that should have never turned into this.

so you pushed.

"i don’t understand why you’re acting like this," you muttered, softer now, but still just as stubborn. "like i did something wrong.”

jay ran a hand through his hair, fingers tugging at the strands as he exhaled again, slower this time.

"because," he started, finally meeting your eyes, and for the first time since this argument began, he wasn’t just frustrated, he was hurt. "because i was supposed to walk you home."

your breath hitched.

he shook his head, almost like he was mad at himself for even saying it. "because that’s our thing. and then i saw you with him and-” he stopped himself, letting out a dry laugh that didn’t sound anything like him. "never mind. forget it."

but you couldn’t. because suddenly, it wasn’t about walking home with someone else. it wasn’t about something as mundane as that. it was about jay; jay, who always waited for you after school even when it made him late. jay, who never let you walk on the outer side of the sidewalk. jay, who carried your bag when you complained it was too heavy, who always made sure you got home safe, who, without ever needing to say it out loud, cared in a way you didn’t fully realize until now.

it was about something so much bigger than the argument itself.

it was about you and him.

and maybe… maybe that’s why it hurt so much.

what was once love and adoration turned into sour and bitter remnants of a relationship that had once been everything. the easy laughter, the stolen glances, the quiet understanding. it all turned into sharp words, exhausted sighs, and the undeniable ache of something slipping through your fingers.

the final fight wasn’t about something small anymore. it wasn’t a misunderstanding, a fleeting argument over something that would be forgotten by morning. it was everything, years of built-up tension, of unspoken words, of feelings neither of you knew how to handle at such a young age.

"so that's it?" your voice wavered, trying to sound angry, trying to sound like you didn’t care, but failing miserably.

jay's jaw was clenched, hands in fists at his sides. his eyes held that same look they always did whenever you fought; not just frustration, but something deeper. something pained.

"what else do you want me to say?" he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "we're just… we're not us anymore."

the words hit harder than they should have.

because he was right.

you weren’t the same two kids who thought love was just hand-holding and pinky promises. you had changed, grown into versions of yourselves that no longer fit together the way they once did. and maybe, deep down, you knew this was inevitable.

but knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.

the next few weeks passed in a blur. apologies left unsaid, memories packed away, and then, just like that, jay was gone.

moved to another state. a clean break.

no chance to fight for it. no chance to fix it.

just distance, silence, and the heavy weight of knowing that what once was everything had turned into nothing but a memory neither of you wanted to hold onto.

[spiderink]

Do you have any headcannons for the bad sanses?

OHHH man DO I.

Rubbing my hands together

I love a lot of different versions of the bad sanses, from extremely toxic to a familial relationship.

However! I do not count Cross nor Error to be a part of the bad sanses—they are their own stuff (cross was just a deal with nightmare, partnered with killer at times, and Error is a neutral party)

toxic wise?

Horror:

- He wouldn’t get along with any of them. Only one he could cooperate with is Dust, because he has some sort of living person feeling to him compared to nightmare and killer

- He’d keep his distance, keep his head down, and do what he’s told to survive.

- Horror still doesn’t eat. He can’t bring himself to. He feels selfish to eat while the people of his AU are still starving

- Horror didn’t have a choice in joining the bad sanses, and he isn’t getting anything out of it. He also isn’t allowed to go back to his AU, because that would give off positivity, which nightmare wouldn’t want from his henchmen and blah blah

- Horror doesn’t do missions that have to do with killing. He does dirty work, like cleaning up after stuff, stealing / buying supplies / scavenging and such. He refuses to take part in murder so nightmare finds other uses of him to create negativity.

Dust..

- He was not a willing member of the bad sanses

- He dislikes killing. He had only done it to get rid of the human in his AU, which was over with, so he doesn’t have a reason to anymore.

- His room is the worst of all of them. He has tantrums, nightmares, and breakdowns in his room.

- He has a big will to run from nightmare. Any chance he can, he takes it.

Killer..

- Due to his past with Chara, he’s a heavy follower of rules, orders, and keeping in his place.

- He reminds the others of their place at times, to remind them that they are not in control, that they HAVE to follow nightmare or there could be consequences (it’s for their own good—it’s for their safety.) (he’s projecting his rules to keep himself safe onto the others to help them survive)

Nightmare..

- Nightmare encourages the misinformation that horror is a cannibal. He teases him with food, bodies (tempt-break his promise to himself to eat no human), and other things

- He has replaced them a few times. Specifically Dust and Killer, Dust the most because of his will to escape.

- ALWAYS has eyes on them. He knows everything they’re doing, where they are, what they’re feeling.

- They’re not allowed to go back to their AUs. Period. They can’t go anywhere without Nightmare allowing them.

Familial wise?

- touch starved. They are generally clingy but push each other away

- They eat together. Usually in silence

- Nightmare is in charge of cooking—all the others are HORRIBLE cooks and cannot be trusted in the kitchen

- they are like each other’s “therapy”. They help horror get into the habit of starting to try eating again, for killer to stop being so “I am below you” and stuff, Dust to feel like he’s not a horrible person, nightmare not feeling lonely, ect ect

- cuddle piles.

- they can get away with annoying each other more often

Shipping wise.. (bad sans poly)

- touch starved.

• Killer doesn’t always realize, but he does small stuff like hand holding, head on lap, stuff like that

• Dust liked being squished, held, junk like that. Like having someone lay on top of him,

• Horror does lots of cuddling, being a mattress, blanket, or big spoon.

- Nightmare allows them to go to their AUs and such

- Horror’s love language to them is physical touch, Killer’s is gift giving, dust is insults, and Nightmare is silent affection.