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sombreboy · 4 years

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Daffodil dreams✾yandere!kth

| RP with 🍁anon | Header by:🍁anon ♡ | CLICK ME FOR PART TWO ✾ 18+ ✾ xtremity; 7 ✾ pairing: Murder suspect!Yandere!Taehyung x Therapist!F ✾ word count: 16.8k ✾ warnings: mental illness, mentions of murder, hand fetish, oral, forceful facefucking, dubcon themes, sadistic/manipulative/possessive!Tae, masochistic!therapist, mentions of medication for mental illness, cursing, degrading dirtytalk, rough smut, unprotected sex.

‘’Taehyung, you didn't lose control. You chose to control me instead..." And he damn well took sick pleasure from the crazed look in his eyes.

“I’m not bad.” He convinced himself of this. He wasn’t a bad person. He wasn’t the person in the case files. That was somebody else inside of him.

Flashing her access card to open the door of the secured interrogation room, the doctor nods at the guard outside before stepping in. If things were to turn sour at any point, he'd step in as intervention.

Once the door closes, she takes a moment to assess her latest patient— accused of double murder, yet to be proven guilty even if circumstantial evidences were against him, Kim Taehyung. Her report on his mental state will be the determinant in his case at this rate. Moving closer towards him, she greets him by introducing herself. "Hello, Taehyung!"

Taehyung sat with his hands clasped together, eyes in his lap as someone walks in. As soon as he hears their greeting though, he slowly gazes up at her, a cautious look on his face. ‘‘Hello.’‘

Placing her tiny folder of contents and her notepad on the table, she takes the chair across from him with a formal smile. "I'll be your therapist till the case gets resolved in the court which can be anywhere between a few days to many months! We're together in this until then." She tells him in an honest voice. It would be better to ease him into the sessions and gain his trust before she could delve deeper into his mind. Deciding to keep it simple, "How are you feeling today? Did you sleep well?"

Taehyung fiddled with his fingers, avoiding eye contact, but he’s responsive enough, “I’m good.. I slept okay.” He nodded, as if confirming his own words.

"I'm glad you're feeling good. We'll see what we can do about the sleep issues you have..." She says, observing how he avoided her eyes and takes her note to record it in. But before she does, "You don't mind if I take notes, do you?" She asks to confirm. Some of her patients hated it when she paid more attention to her notebook than them. She'd switch to a taping device in that case. "Have you seen any other therapists before me, Taehyung— it's okay if I called you by your name, right?"

It took Taehyung a long moment before he responded, eyes moving back up to look at her, this time more observing, “You’re my first...” he keeps his eyes on her, an unreadable expression on his face as he nods, confirming the usage of his name.

She flashes him a genuine smile when she finds his eyes upon her. That was rather a very quick improvement in her books. Nodding her head at him, she notes it all down, from his words to his gestures— everything. So no one even suspected he might have been mentally disturbed until the incident itself. Interesting. "In that case, I'm going to make sure I'm helping you the best way I can!" She promises him with a look before going for her next question. "Tell me more about yourself, Taehyung... It can be anything?" She'd get to know him from his own point of view before making her judgement.

Taehyung looked around the room, as if in thought, leaning back in his chair as his eyes finally land on the painting hanging behind her. He stares at it for a long moment, zoning out as he’s looking at it.

She patiently waits for him to speak up, silently taking in his features. He looked rather young, just about her age or even younger. Lucious curls, sharp jaws, almond eyes framed by full lashes— he was nothing short of gorgeous. And then there was this innocence in his eyes that makes her pause. Could he have really murdered two people in cold blood? Noticing his attention elsewhere, she turns behind her to see the painting on the wall. "So... You like art? Do you paint often?" If he wouldn't talk, then she just had to ask more questions to keep him speaking.

Taehyung rocked back and forth, a very vague movement, barely noticeable unless anyone paid attention. He nodded, his eyes flickering to her before focusing on the painting once more, a short but clear response rolling off his lips, “Sometimes..”

Her eyes keenly track each of his movements, including how he seemed to not stay as still as he had when their session began. She hums at his words. Maybe she could bring some art supplies to one of their future sessions? But for now, "I'm a fan of surrealism. It feels like there's something about the unexpectedness it brings to everyday subjects... Dali is one of my favourite artists!" She comments, her eyes lighting up brightly as she speaks about something she likes. "Do you prefer someone's art works in particular?"

Taehyung kept rocking back and forth, he was slowly starting to become a little bit more responsive, taking a few seconds less to answer this time, “Van Gogh.” His lips twitched ever so slightly at the thought of his art, his gaze focusing back down at his lap.

"Van Gogh?" There's a flare of recognition in her gaze, that is more than just knowing the famous artist's name. She was well versed in his life history too— especially his mental illness that made him take his own life. Taehyung taking less time than before to respond with his name was mildly alarming. But she keeps her cool, and her smile intact. "I have a copy of his Almond Blossom in my home." She mentions as she makes more notes, "What is it about Gogh that impresses you, Taehyung?"

Taehyungs eyebrows raise vaguely when she mentions that she owns such a piece of art. His eyes now travells down to focus on the notepad in her lap. But this time he didn’t respond.

She gives him a whole minute before looking up at him, only to find his gaze focused on her lap. "Would you like to write... Or maybe sketch instead?" She tears off the page she had been writing in and passes the notepad to him with another pen. "Is there a particular painting of Van Gogh that you like so much?" She tries again hoping he'd feel motivated enough to answer her or even write it down.

He moved slowly when he grabbed the pen and notepad, putting it in his lap as he quietly scribbled something down. When he finished, he put it back on the table along with the pen, pushing it over the table towards her so she could take a look at what he had written down. “Through his pain, came beauty. His art.” Along with a smaller note, “irises," which was a painting by the artist. It was a painting of Irises that suggests cautious optimism. The bouquet of blue irises, shadowed in violet in an ocher vase against a yellow background, reveals his continuing pursuit of what he called 'the color question' and nature always offered the true revelation.

When he leaves the pad back on the table, she peeks over to see what he had written. "Irises?" She whispers under her breath. There were two paintings of Gogh's with the said flowers. One, speaking of a life without tragedies and the other, a still life painting of the flowers in a vase he used for studying colours, both of them he did in the asylum. Tracing his words about the artist himself with her eyes she asks in a softer tone, "Did you know there's two different paintings of irises?"

Taehyung nods, however not clarifying his answer. His mind seemed to drift away after the mention of the paintings, but his body seemed slightly more relaxed as he was no longer rocking himself back and forth.

She leans back on her chair and keeps talking when he doesn't respond more than a nod. "I prefer the first one, the painting with the irises he did in the garden. There is this sense of hope about it..." As if he had hoped to get better in the hospital. Taking one more look at his note, she presses an elbow to the table and props her chin upon her palm as she tries to get his attention back on her. "Does his pain inspire you, Taehyung?"

His lips part as if he’s about to speak, but he closes his mouth again, one hand moving up to brush his curls away from his eyes, that were now back on the doctor. He made eye contact, and gave her a vague nod, a quiet whisper rolling off his lips as he quoted the artist, “Art is to console those who are broken.”

She blinks, the motion of his hand breaking her transfixed gaze upon him. But soon he reels her back with his eyes, that now rested upon hers with a sense of ease. She leans a little further across the table to catch his whisper, which gives her a pause. As much as she wanted to go on track and ask more about the artist he seemed to idolise, she chooses a personal question instead. "Do you consider yourself broken then?" It comes out equally quiet, her eyes focused unblinkingly upon him.

Taehyung shrugged, then broke into a soft smile before countering her question with one of his own, “Aren’t we all broken in one way or another?”

Her eyes soften at the first sign of his smile, her own lips quirking up to mirror it. Moving back with a mellowed laughter at his question, "True, we all are! You got me there." She admits, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. "So, what is your story then? Why do you think you're broken?" With her head tilted to the side, she might resemble a curious cat. There's an urge to get to know him more now that goes beyond the need for this case. But she brushes it off to analyse it later when she wasn't on the clock.

Taehyung observes her for a moment, he’s starting to feel a little more comfortable with his therapist. Her smile made him feel something, but he couldn’t quite place it as of yet. For the first time in a long time, he’s enjoyed somebody’s company. He didn’t want the session to end. “My story... isn’t very unique. I had a happy life... simple.” He presses his lips together as he nodded, confirming his own words before looking at her again, hands clasped together in his lap, “What about you?”

"Had?" She notes the past tense of his words before blinking back in surprise when he asks her about her story. "I'm... still writing my story. Everyday, as it goes. My story is about finding a purpose for your life to be happy again!" She reiterates gently, her notes laying long forgotten on her lap with her attention completely on him now and their conversation. "Everyone's story is different from each other, Taehyung. But why would you think your happy life ended? What about your life now?"

Taehyung stares at her as he takes in her words. Her purpose was for him to find happiness? That sounded crazy... it sounded almost... like she cared about him. He leaned forward, as if he's trying to get a closer look at her. "Well, I am held in custody... and will be for a while it seems. Wouldn't you feel unhappy in my situation?" Once again, he counters her questions with his own, as if it was a little game. But it was obvious that he was starting to enjoy this, becoming more responsive to her, whether it gives her clear answers or not.

"Which is 'where' I come in." She air quotes in response to his question. "Anyone would he unhappy in this situation. You'll be held here until they can find a solution to this case. Don't you want to be happy again, Taehyung?" Her tone is beseeching as she hides her surprise at how easy it was to get him to talk when his previous interrogators claimed otherwise. "I can help you with that! But you'll have to help me in return. I want you to be completely honest with me. Can you do that?"

Taehyung leaned back into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, eyes still fixed on the woman as if he's observing her. He doesnt answer, but he nods.

Even without his verbal confirmation, she still considers it a minor victory when he agrees to be truthful. Giving him another one of her genuine smiles as if in reward, "We can take this one step at a time. And if you're uncomfortable with anything I say or ask, feel free to stop me immediately, okay?" She bends her head slightly, looking up at him through her lashes to see if he understood her before proceeding. "You're aware that you're kept in custody. But do you know why you're here?"

Taehyung's gaze travels to look down once again, a soft sigh escaping his lips. However another nod was the only response she got. He wasn't feeling very verbally responsive for this topic, knowing all words can and would be used against him, whether he was guilty or not.

When he breaks their eye contact, she withdraws back with a deep exhale. She knew she was pushing him beyond his comfort zone. But from every information she gathered from him so far, her gut feeling told her he was innocent. Even the devil was an angel before he fell though. "Taehyung," She calls his name out softly. "We're almost at the end of our session today. I have one last question for you before I leave. Do you think you deserve to be kept here for whatever the reason you're in here for?"

His gaze slowly moved to look at her hands, keeping his arms wrapped over his chest as if he's hugging himself. It takes a long minute before he shrugs. He knows he's been vague, but he wasn't sure. And he felt a little disappointed that the session was over already, he was beginning to enjoy her company. She was the first person since he was taken in to actually talk to him as a person, and not simply pinpoint him as a murderer.

Clicking her tongue quietly at his shrug, she slumps back into her chair when he gives her no clear answer once again. There was a prompt knock on the metal door, signaling the end of their session.

"You did so good, Taehyung." She tells him with a soft smile as she stands up to gather her things, including the notepad. "I'll be back tomorrow. And I'll see if I can request for an additional hour. If we work well together like today, I'll soon be able to help you find your happiness again, hm?"

He feels his chest flutter at the doctor's praise, another foreign feeling to him. As she stand up, his eyes follow her with the utmost observation of her every movement and word. His lips curl up in a small smile as he nods, "Okay." He didn't want the session to end, but he was already looking forward to tomorrow. Now, as soon as he was no longer alone with her, his expressions fade back into being a blank canvas— no expression at all.

Now more than ever, she believes he was being framed for the murders. And even if he was guilty, she'd help him get his Not Criminally Responsible verdict if it ever came to that, she decides. He definitely had underlying mental health issues for certain, she just needed more medical proof. Sending an email out to his defence attorney and the institution, she rests easy that night when they approve her request for extended sessions.

Taehyung had barely slept that night, staring at the ceiling of his isolated room as he processes everything she said. She'd asked him questions about art, and the way her knowledge surprised him made him curious about her. The way she told him that her purpose was to find his happiness, made him happy... no one's ever said that to him before, and he started to feel a small infatuation with his therapist.

He reminded himself to be cautious, however, it had only been one session after all. But his heart fluttered at the thought of seeing her again. Would her hair look different? Would she wear something pretty? All these things whirled through his mind until he managed to get a fractured amount of sleep before the guards woke him up for his next session. He slowly sauntered over, hair a curly mess, bags under his eyes.

The next day, she's back in the room before him for their new session. She had forgone her coat, favouring a simple blouse and skirt as it was summer. The door opens and she stands up with a bright smile. "Hello, Taehyung!" One look at his cuffed arms and she sends a pointed glare at the guard who takes it off with a roll of his eyes. Once the guard leaves, she takes a step towards Taehyung, almost as if to push his hair back, but drops her hands halfway and goes back to the table. "Did you sleep well last night?" She asks him, her smile simmered down as he takes his seat.

Taehyung rubs his wrists when the cuffs are removed, nodding uncomittedly at her question as he slowly strolls over to his seat, ‘’Somewhat,’’ He didn’t lie, but also didn’t want to tell her he barely slept, but the doctor's eyes were sharp, and the dark circles under his eyes were prominent even if they were half hidden underneath his bangs. He ran his hands through his hair as if to calm down the bedhead he was rocking, lifting up his grey hoodie over his curls.

Nodding at his reply, "Well, I have news for you. Our sessions are going to be two hours long from now. So hopefully we can solve this case quicker!" She says with a smile, looking up from her notes only for her lips to turn down in a frown at his red eyes and visible dark circles beneath them despite his attempt to hide it all behind his bangs. "Is there a particular reason you didn't sleep well last night?" She asks him in a crisp tone, giving no room for anymore vague answers. "If something's bothering you, you can tell me, you know?"

Taehyung felt a rush of joy, reminding him of butterflies fluttering in his stomach at the mention of longer sessions. Does that mean she wants to spend more time with him? That’s how he interpreted it, a small smile pulling on his lips. It made him more responsive, more open to answer her questions. However, it didn’t mean he couldn’t ask some back, ‘’I had a lot on my mind after we spoke,’’ He confesses, tilting his head to the side as his eyes landed on her skirt, slowly roaming up your outfit. She looked so pretty, ‘’I like your clothes.’’ He squinted, observing the small floral patterns adorning her blouse. He was curious about the brand, he did enjoy fashion.

"Oh?" She glances down at herself, giving him another smile at his compliment. "Thank you! It's getting warmer out there. Had to give up my winter clothing." Subtly noting the spark of interest in his eyes at her clothing style, she decides to dig into it later. They had something important to discuss before that. "You said you had lot in your mind last night. May I ask what?" She pulls up a fresh page on her notepad, beginning to write down everything she noticed about him today.

He smiled, arms going back to his default position across his chest, “You.” His eyes moved back to her face, observing her reaction. This could’ve been a bad idea, maybe he should’ve stayed quiet, closed down. But he had to say it. She was special, not just his therapist.

Her writing comes to a sharp halt, and she glances up at him to find him watching her already. Dropping her pen between the pages, she closes the notepad and leaves it on the table before focusing all her attention on him with an unsure smile curling on her lips. "Me? Do you mean you were thinking about the things we spoke about yesterday, Taehyung?" Getting involved with a patient at any emotional level was frowned upon. She hopes he means the latter, for both of their sakes.

Taehyung hesitates, considering whether he should answer with honesty. Will the truth scare her away? Will she stop seeing him? He didn’t want to take the chance, not until he was sure. He internally scolded himself for even telling her, but if he plays his cards right, he could deflect this quickly, continuing with the normal questions. He squints his eyes in a smile, nodding once more as he straightens his posture, ‘’Of course, that’s what I meant.’’

There's a faint sagging of her shoulders in relief despite the niggling feeling of uneasiness pricking at the back of her head. "That's great! But please don't let out conversations disturb your sleep patterns. I like seeing you in better health." She smiles, purposefully adding the last part to see if it'd change his behaviour that night. Sitting a little more relaxed in her chair, "What is it about yesterday that left you sleepless, Taehyung?" Technically, she should begin from where they left off but this could work too.

Taehyung considers her words carefully, and how she kept saying things that seemed so earnest. She would like to see him in better health. Not because a script told her so, but because she cared. He started to believe it, and he couldn’t control the way his feelings slowly grew for her. He crossed one leg over the other, leaning back as he put his hands in his pockets into a more relaxed position, eyes staring at the table as he chewed on his lower lip in a moment of thought, ‘’I thought a lot about... Art.. It was a refreshing conversation compared to all the surface level interrogations they’ve put me through so far. I felt like I was talking to an actual person, and it was... Nice.’’ This was the longest sentence he’s ever given her, even if it didn’t conclude much other than his appreciation for her knowledge.

"I'm glad our talk was thought provoking for you. And I want you to feel normal. I know interrogations here can get bitter. But I'm here to help you find and face the truth, no matter what it is!" Placing both her hands on the table, she presses on it to lean forward and let him see the honesty of her words reflected in her eyes. "We can talk about art again, if you want? Or anything else of your interest? I'm sure we can spare some time before beginning from where we left off yesterday."

Taehyung’s eyes lit up, he finally had an opportunity to know more about her, rather than talk about himself. That’s all he’s done, and he would, for her. But first, he wanted something back, something new to learn. He fiddled with his fingers before clasping them together, ‘’What’s your favourite type of flower?’’ It was an odd question to some, but to him, it mattered. He always loved flowers, and the meanings behind them.

She doesn't miss out on any reactions of his, including how his entire face lights up when she says they could talk about anything other than the case. Little sacrifices, she tells herself with a smile as she leans back in her chair only to pause at his question. "My favourite flower?" She asks again with surprise in her tone to confirm if she heard it right. As he continues to gaze at her with that little excited look of his, she gives in. "Lily of the valley. I love those little bells!"

‘‘Return to happiness.’‘ He states, eyes still fixed on her. Everything really pointed back towards the one thing you keep telling him, to find happiness. To be happy. That she wanted him to be happy. This couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? If it was, it surely was fate. ‘‘The flower is beautiful, attractive... But poisonous.’‘ He continued, as if his statement could have an underlying meaning to it. He stretches his back a little, before returning to a comfortable position, his hands delicately placed in his lap, ‘‘I like daffodils.’‘

"When something is too beautiful to behold, it always comes with a way of protecting itself, doesn't it? Like how roses have thorns, the lilies are poisonous. I only think it's fair." She shrugs, not really worried about how he'd interpret that. By now, she's made up her mind to enjoy the unexpectedness of their conversations until it lasts. "Daffodils? What do they mean?" She might have a little knowledge about art, but not so much about flowers.

Taehyung hums, nodding as he speaks, ‘’Rebirth... New beginnings...’’ He tilts his head to the side, keeping his eyes in his lap as if he’s in thought, ‘’They are the first flower to bloom when the cold, dark winter has passed, as a sign of spring.’’ He pauses to lick his lips, looking up at her with a small smile, ‘’And they smell nice.’’

She nods her head slowly, taking in the meaning of his favourite flowers a little deeper than she should. "New beginnings..." Letting the word roll around her tongue for a moment, she glances up to meet his eyes with an understanding smile. "Is that what you crave right now? A new beginning once this darkness," her gaze flickers to his case file on the table before meeting his again, "—passes, Taehyung? Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong. I tend to overthink sometimes."

He felt butterflies burst in his gut when she said his first name so casually, as if they were already close. He enjoyed it, feeling a warmth simmer over him. Taehyung shrugs, ‘’I guess you could say that.’’

"Hm..." She hums, moving forward once again to lean over the table. These chairs weren't exactly comfy, she was sure to get a back pain if she were to sit in it much longer. "And how do you envision this new beginning? Is it going to be similar to the life you lived before? Or maybe you want to move away to a new place and start afresh? I'd do that if I were you, to be honest..." Letting her eyes trace his features carefully, "How different do you want your new life to be from your old?"

Her words seemed to have hit a small trigger, his eyes squinting in thought, the corner of his mouth twitching once, twice. He stared to his left, at nothing, just staring, as if he’s deep within himself for the moment, and his leg starts to bounce restlessly, ‘’It’s already different... But, I don’t know..’’

It was the first time she catches him struggling to express his thoughts that day, immediately knowing his answers would be as vague as their previous session. No, that wouldn't do. "Different because of any thing in particular?" Maybe his guilt? He was yet to answer her last question from yesterday. Seeing how his attention seemed to be elsewhere, she opens her palm on the table. "You can hold my hand if you need something to ground yourself, Taehyung!" She offers without thinking twice.

His eyebrows are drawn together in confusion at her words, until he looks down at her open palm on the table. He didn’t hear everything she said, he only caught when she called his name, and then suddenly, her hand was offered to him. What is this? She wanted him to hold her hand? Was this a test?... Did she like him? Taehyung’s fingers twitched, he slowly raised his hand as if considering to actually hold hers, but he hesitates, looking up at her, ‘‘I can...?’‘

She looks at him with her head slightly bent, urging him on silently with her eyes. "Yes, of course! I want you to hold my hand so you can ground yourself..." She states calmly, curling her fingers in a come hither motion as she smiles at him. It was clear he was lost in his head and if this would help, she was willing to do it for him. "We'll continue our conversation only when you're certain you're back here with me, okay?" Her voice is soft, as if soothing him back into reality.

He shuffles closer to sit on the edge, his large hand slowly wrapping around hers. She felt so delicate in his hand, and his heart skipped a beat. He exhaled through his nose, eyes fixed on the way his long fingers gently closed around her hand.

Carefully, she watches him place his hand upon hers before wrapping it around her dainty one, her gaze flashing up to his face to note his reaction. He seemed... content, for the lack of accurate words to explain the emotion in his eyes. She sits there in silence with his hand in hers, for how long, neither of them care. Smiling again, she softly squeezes the reassuring weight of his hand upon hers. "Feeling better, Taehyung?" She asks him once his eyes move back to rest upon her.

His eyes softened when he felt her squeeze his palm, and he wished this moment could last forever, not ready to ever let go of her. ‘’Can I look at your hand? Closer, I mean...’’

She flexes her fingers in his, knowing what she was doing wasn't exactly ethical in her practice. But he seemed like he needed someone to hold him, and all she could offer was her hand for now. Blinking back at the unexpectedness of his question, she hesitates a brief moment before nodding. "Sure you can... as long as you promise not to bite!" She jests in good nature, even if a part of her wonders why he was asking to look closer.

Taehyung smiles playfully, an eyebrow crooked up at her words. ‘’Deal,’’ he leans forward a little further, both of his hands holding hers. He treats her hands like they are fragile, delicately examining her flat palm facing him before the pads of his fingers trace the lines in her hand, his eyes focused on how soft her skin feels in his hand. To some, it might look like he’s doing some kind of palm reading, but in reality he just... really likes hands. And hers, they were an exquisite sight, and they felt even better.

She laughs faintly at his playfulness, brushing off the little voice in her head questioning her sanity in that very situation. He was only being curious, she told herself— almost like a child. Indulging him would cause no harm! Unless he really was guilty… Sighing at her own internal monologue, she wriggles her fingers again as she smiles up at him. "What are you looking for in my hand, Taehyung? Did you lose something there?"

He doesn’t look up at her, eyes still observing as he grabs her fingers between his index finger and thumb, bending it delicately back and forth, as if he’s fascinated with the way her flesh moves and bends beneath the skin. But to others, it looks like he’s just playing around. He nods before grabbing her hand inbetween both of his large palms, ‘’I just liked how fragile- I mean... I like the way your hand feels. It’s soft.’’

Her eyes still locked on all of his movements, she thinks he might not have heard her from the way he looks lost in examining the workings of her fingers. When he begins speaking again, the word fragile stands out, reminding her of his case file. A cold shiver passes down her spine, but she manages to school her expression before it shows. "It feels so soft because I don't do any of my household chores." Turning one of his hand over, she runs her fingers over it. "See, even yours is soft!"

Her touch ignites a fire beneath his skin, that travels further like a domino effect throughout his entire body. He recognized this feeling, and he wondered whether he should stop this. Stop, and not let this feeling grow. But then, the way her fingers smooth over his skin was almost erotic to him, and he didn’t want her to stop. His mouth parted slightly, a quiet exhale pushing through his lips at the feeling, nodding, ‘’Again.’’

She looks up at him with a stricken expression when he asks to be touched again. But the intensity behind his eyes reels her in without her even being aware of it and she begins tracing his palm longer this time, her touch nothing more than feather soft. "Like this?" Even as she asks, she runs the tip of her nails over each of the lines that crisscross along his palms with little pressure. At the feel of him shuddering, she slowly glances up at him with her lower lip caught between her teeth. "More, Taehyung?"

Taehyung closes his eyes, his chest heaving up and down slowly, but heavily. He licks his lips, focusing so hard on the feeling of your nails across his skin, this fire that he knew too well already taking over his body, as his next words just slip out like a sultry growl, ‘’I want more, you drive me mad...’’

Her breathing is equally hard, the sight of him coming undone at her mere touch all too sensual for her to handle. The entire purpose of her presence there slips from her mind somewhere between them getting lost in each other's hands. She gulps at the sound of raw need behind his growl and slowly loops her fingers through his while her other hand is still mindlessly drawing patterns over the sensitive skin of his palm. "How do you want me, Taehyung?" She dares to ask at last in a softer tone.

His eyes open, an intense gaze meeting hers as he drags his lower lip between his teeth, “I want you... on your knees, right here...” His eyes look down between his now spread apart legs, the obvious bulge leaving little to the imagination through the soft fabric of his sweatpants, “I want your soft hands on me.”

Trapped within his gaze and nowhere to run in the room that was locked from outside, she slowly stands up on trembling feet, throwing a cautious look over her shoulders at the door. This was wrong. So wrong. She keeps thinking despite sinking to her knees between his spread legs. Moving one of her hands to the prominent bulge in his pants, she squeezes it softly while looking up at him through her thick lashes. "Like this?" She squeezes harder again and then rubs over it, repeating her motions.

He gazes down at her with heavy eyes, a small smirk playing on his face as he crooks an eyebrow, licking his teeth, “Yes, just like that,” he nods, keeping his hands on his thighs, curling up his fists as he grasps the fabric of his pants, trying to keep his fingers to himself. He knows once he starts touching her , it could go any direction. It was too early. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t indulge in the pleasures of having her willingly touch him, “More...” he repeats the same word once more, his possessive affection for her blooming faster than ever.

The situation had escalated way too quickly for her to even grasp it, but she pushes it to the back of her mind. For now, his heavy gaze upon her as she palmed him through his pants was enough to make her shirt stick to her skin from the raising heat around them. She pops a button open on her blouse before sneaking her hand into his pants at his needy demand, feeling his velvety length between her fingers. Her gaze moves up to hold his as she runs a nail from his base to the tip, to catch his reaction.

His burning gaze followed the movements of her unbuttoning her blouse just enough for him to let out a long exhale through his nose. He then focused his attention back down, feeling her nail scrape delicately across the skin of his length, his thighs almost vibrate underneath her, his cock twitches in anticipation, “Take it out...” It sounded more like a demand rather than begging, but it was laced with need.

Looking into his eyes that seemed like it wanted to devour her whole, she drags his throbbing length out of his pants at his needy whine. Even from the feel of him, she knows she'll be able to feel his curved tip all the way into her womb if she were ever to sink down on his pretty length. Shuddering at that thought, she runs her nail over his slit, gathering his precum as she goes before smearing it down his cock, slowly beginning to pump him between her soft hands. "Want more, Taehyung?"

Taehyung struggles to keep his hands to himself, but he’s mustering all his strength, clawing at his thighs as he moans quietly beneath her touch, ‘’Please,’’ His eyes are beginning to have a slightly crazed look to them as he watches how pretty and small her hands look compared to the size of his generous length, ‘’Put it in your mouth, please..’’

As much as she wants to tease and edge him on until he was writhing for her with nothing but her name on his lips, she knew they didn't have enough time. His pleas will have to do for today. Giving his throbbing length a few more drawn out pumps, she kisses the slit, moaning softly at his taste as she lets the tip of her tongue graze it. Opening her mouth wider, she locks her gaze with his while lowering her mouth to swallow him in painfully slow, swirling her tongue as she went along.

Taehyung’s jaw fell open, breathing out heavy, low vibrating groans as he watches his cock disappear between her lips, ‘’So pretty... Prettier than anybody-y ah..’’ His sentence broke into a whimper. He’s had his cock sucked before, but with her, it felt new and foreign, his hyper responsive senses causing his hips to twitch. He wanted to fuck her mouth so badly, but the torture of holding himself back from grasping her hair was another turn on in itself. If you are patient, and wait for something good, the wait will always be worth it.

A part of her feels smug as he is reduced to broken whimpers from her mere touch, such a breathtaking mess to watch despite his immense self control. She wanted to see him lose it though, and touch her the same way she was worshipping him. Stopping when she feels his cock hit the back of her throat, she gives herself a minute to breathe through her nose. Pulling him out halfway, she pushes the skin around his head down until she could suck on it sharply and repeats it till she feels him twitch.

Taehyung was struggling to keep himself collected, his hips starting to buck into her mouth, hands moving an inch closer to her body, but he harshly grips his pants too hard he almost rips through the fabric, ‘’I want to touch you so badly....’’ He breathes out darkly, ‘’But if I do, I can’t control--’’ He breaks into another moan and throws his head back, continuing to move his hips.

When he begins to buck into her mouth, she sucks him in until her cheeks hollow out making obscene noise. At his stuttering words, she unwillingly pulls him out of her mouth. "What if..." She pants deeply, trying to form the right words as her hands pump him steadily. "I want to see you lose it Tae— your carefully constructed control. Don't hold back!" Diving back instantly, she swallows him once again, her other hand moving to toy with his balls as she waits to see if he'd follow her words.

Taehyung screws his eyes shut for a moment, gritting his teeth to muffle the curses that slip through his lips. She wanted it, she wanted it... Could he really give in to his true self? Last time he did, it put him in here. With her as his therapist. Maybe it was fate, he was always supposed to find her, who actually wanted him to show himself for who he was. She cared. He felt like he could trust her, and he really didn’t want to hurt her... Not that much.

‘‘You’re so— shit..’‘ His eyes fly open, his pupils dilated with lust until they were almost blackened, his stare that of a possessive man as he gives in to his desires. His hands travelling to caress her hair, the hair he’s been admiring, and it felt just the way he imagined it, so silky and soft between his fingers. ‘‘You’re everything.’‘ He inhales deeply, his grasp in her hair tightening, pulling at her scalp until it almost burns as he forces her to take his cock deeper.

At his muffled mewls, she rubs her thighs together feeling her own arousal swell. But she ignores it in favour of watching his lust blown eyes focus solely upon her, as if she was the only thing he needed to exist and ruin in the same breath. His reverent touches does nothing to fool her, she knows a madman's eyes when she sees one. Bracing herself on his thighs, she sucks in deeply before he painfully tugs at her hair, thrusting himself back in all the way until her eyes tear up from the stretch.

‘‘Choke on it,’‘ He growls quietly. He didn’t want to be too loud, knowing there were guards outside of the room. His fingers curled around her hair as he starts to control her movements, using her mouth like a toy to fuck his cock into as he wishes. He takes notice of the tears welling up in her eyes, a tint of red in the whites of them from the lack of oxygen, and it sends him one step closer into his madness. He fucking loves the submissive look on her face.

An instant flush travels down her body from his growl, making her core clench. But that wasn't where her trained mind was. When she had asked him to lose it, he had merely found an object, her instead, to control, which begins a series of alarm bells in her head. As she loses her ability to breathe, she suddenly knows why those victims of his ended up dead. In her desperation, she sinks her nails into his thighs, hoping he'd let her go before she faints or worse, add on to his list.

Her nails digging into his thighs only adds to his pleasure, his grip in her hair like iron as he forces her back down on his cock, tears and spit everywhere. His gaze was like ice, eyebrows tightly drawn together as he feels his orgasm creep up on him quickly. ‘’Just— a little more. A little more...Your nose, breathe through your nose.’’ He reminds her while a voice in the back of his mind tells him to stop. It was too much, she was going to pass out if he didn’t stop, or worse, kill her, but it felt too good.

At the feel of his cock twitching inside her mouth, she knows he's deriving pleasure from both his and her pain, making her tears flow freely seeing no escape. A hand claws it's way up, digging itself into his hand as she struggles to breathe through her nose like he instructs. Little more... she fights to hold on to her slipping conscious, sensing his muscles go taut beneath her touch, she instantly moves her other hand to seize his balls. The sooner he got his release, the better for her.

A low, guttural moan vibrated in Taehyung’s chest as the familiar heat pooling in his lower abdomen reaches him, his hips stilling beneath her as he cums, ‘’F-fuck, ye-ees...’’ He growls, his cock pulsating in her mouth as the sticky warmth shoots down her throat. His grip in her hair almost instantly loosens, his body relaxing against the couch as he slouches, chest heaving up and down heavily.

If she could sigh in relief, she would. As soon as she feels his cum shooting down her throat, she greedily swallows it all along with a few desperate inhales of air through her nose. The moment his grip goes lax, she pushes herself off his thighs and falls back on the floor, gasping loudly as her cheeks slowly regain their colour. Her throat feels raw and her chest hurts badly every time she breathes in, but she forces her way up from the floor carefully turned away from his panting form.

As if a switch flipped, Taehyung came back to reality. He pulled his pants back up as he got off his seat, taking one step closer to her form on the ground. “Hey,” he whispers, eyebrows drawn together in concern. Guilt. He didn’t want to lose control, but she asked him to... begged him to.

Hearing the chair squeak as he stands up, she quickly scrambles to her feet to put more distance between them. Wiping her face with the back of her hands, she slowly begins inching towards her bag that was resting next to the table. Raising a hand at his whisper though, she stops him in his tracks. "Don't—" She croaks through her abused throat. "Don't you dare... come any closer!" Her eyes stay on the ground, not willing to meet his after seeing him go insane as she stumbles towards the table.

Taehyung stops, his hand falling down to his side, still keeping his eyes on her, ‘’I... I--’’ He grew frustrated, ‘’You asked me to do it...I shouldn’t have.’’

Grabbing her bag, she pulls her bottle out of it before desperately chugging half of it down to soothe her throat. Once done, she braces herself against the chair still wheezing as her eyes snap up to meet his, forgetting her earlier woes. "I asked you to fuck yourself. Not fucking kill me!" Her words were crude and harsh, but she feels little to no care. Her eyes flicker down to his case file still laying untouched on the table. "Is that— is this what happened to them, Taehyung? Is this why they're dead?"

Taehyung’s expression was sombre, eyes following her gaze to look at the casefile. He sits back down in the couch, leaning forward with his hands clasped together. The very same position he was in the first time they met, ‘’It’s...’’ The way she threw her words at him made him flinch, ‘’I didn’t want to hurt you.’’

Her eyes follow each of his movements, not understanding why her heart aches when he collapses down on the chair after what he did to her. As much as the sane part of her tells her to run while she still can, her medically trained brain fails to see its rationality. He was still her patient who needs her help. Right now, he wasn't the man who tried to hurt her. Sighing miserably, she steps closer to him. "Hey... I know you didn't mean to— it's... okay!" It wasn't. But that was not what he needed to hear right now.

Taehyung looks up at her, keeping his hands tightly clasped together, as if he’s holding his own hand to keep himself grounded. ‘’Did you... want to do it? Why did you ask me to lose control?’’

Her gaze swivels between his clasped hands to hers, remembering how they'd started it all innocently. Pressing a palm to the table, she slumps down into the chair still keeping her distance from him. "I did... Of course, I wanted to do it!" She pauses briefly before glancing up at him with her puffy eyes. "I didn't know you'd... Taehyung, you didn't lose control. You chose to control me instead..." And he damn well took sick pleasure from the crazed look in his eyes. "There's a difference!"

Taehyung started rocking back and forth again, eyes flickering between hers, “I’m not bad.” He convinced himself of this. He wasn’t a bad person. He wasn’t the person in the case files. That was somebody else inside of him.

Right there, her first real evidence of his mental illness— his split personality. Without breaking their eye contact, she stands up on unsteady feet taking slow steps towards him, as if approaching a caged animal. "No, you're not bad..." She repeats after him in as much a soothing voice she could manage despite her tender throat. "That wasn't you." She hesitates to kneel before him, fearing it'd be a trigger. "Remember? This is just a dark cloud. It will pass soon and the daffodils will bloom!"

Taehyung intertwines his fingers, as if holding himself tightly, eyes following her every movement. He didnt want to startle her, but oh did he want to hold her. "Are you going to tell them? Are you gonna... stop seeing me?" He didnt care whether or not he was gonna end up free or caged. He just wanted to see her. He didnt want her to leave.

Her heart constricts at the distress in his tone and she moves even closer, letting her shaky fingers reach his hair to soothe it down in reassurance. "I'll tell them in my own way..." She couldn't write down what happened in her report, but she could always omit it out now that she had a diagnosis. Pushing his messy locks out of his eyes, her other hand goes to tilt his chin up to face her. "And who will treat you if I stop coming here? I'm not going anywhere until those flowers of yours bloom."

He genuinely smiles at her words, his hands relaxed in his lap. He dared to let his fingers reach up to gently caress the back of her hand that held his chin, “Thank you.” A knock on the door insinuated that time was up for today’s session, and Taehyungs smile fell. He didn’t want her to leave. She was his daffodil. And not knowing what she was going to do about what happened today made him feel anxious. Maybe she'd keep seeing him, maybe she was just lying to keep him satisfied, then telling them he’s guilty? Or would she deem him as mentally insane, and throw him away to the doctors? The next step was in her hands.

She returns his smile with an unsettled one of her own, that disappears the moment there's another loud knock on the metal door. Shuffling back from him, she smoothes her hair down and runs a hand over her face, looking down at Taehyung. "Do I look okay?" She cannot step out there looking like a mess, making anyone question what happened in there or even suspect a thing. Buttoning her blouse back up as she keeps her eyes on him, "Tae— no one can know what happened here today. Promise me?"

‘‘I promise, if you promise to come back.’‘ Taehyung ran his hand through his hair, a small smile on his lips as he eyes her up and down, ‘‘You look beautiful.’‘

Tsking her tongue at his need to bargain, "I won't be allowed to come back ever if you tell them the truth." She turns to grab her bag, realizing a second later how blunt her words might have sounded. He didn't need that right now, especially not from her. Forcing a smile upon her lips, "Thank you! I promise I'll be back. I might have a way to help you, but I need to discuss the legalities of it with your lawyer. I'll see you tomorrow." She casts one last look at him before leaving promptly.

Taehyung didn’t answer, and quietly observed as she left. Shortly after, the guards came in and cuffed him before leading him to his cell.

That night, Taehyung couldn’t stop thinking about her, even moreso difficult than the previous night. He now knew what she felt like, what she smelled like... The way her tears streamed down her face mixed with drool, struggling for air while choking on his cock— ‘‘Fuck,’‘ He hissed through gritted teeth, one arm placed over his eyes as he laid on his back in the bed, the other occupied with touching himself, thinking of his doctor.

Paraphilia. There was no other easy way to put this down on his report. It wasn't just his split personality, but his sadistic approach to intercourse that bordered on getting off from his partner's pain which led to the murders— she felt sick to even type it down. She can only imagine how he must've felt. The police had found him at the scene of the crime after all. After a long winded discussion with his lawyer, it was decided they'd plead guilty without any criminal charges.

She'd suggest a combined treatment of drugs and behavioural therapy at the facility she worked at so she'd be able to treat him herself for however long they sentenced him into rehabilitation. Content with her work, she found herself making her way back to the prison the next day to share the news with Taehyung. Seeing how the guard was already at his post outside, looking bored, she knew he'd be waiting for her. It was time to keep her promise. She steps in with a smile, "Hi Taehyung!"

Taehyung was anxiously waiting for her to arrive, biting the skin of his fingers. As she finally walks in through the door, chiming his name out with a smile, he straightens up his posture, unable to stop the boxy smile of his own to curl on his lips, ‘‘You came!’‘

"Of course, I did." Leaving her bag on the floor, she turns to him still standing. "I don't break my promises, and I might have found a way to help you!" She finishes, with her gaze intently watching every emotion flickering across his eyes while edging into her chair sideways as she continues. "But before that, I need to know how you're feeling after uh— yesterday?" It was the first time she refuses to meet his eyes in all of their interactions, her eyes lowered as if in shyness but not quite.

Taehyung takes a deep breath, leaning back against the couch as he tries to meet her eyes, but she was purposefully averting them. However he felt a small sense of pride in this, feeling like he’s got a small amount of power of her since yesterday, ‘‘I’m okay. Hm... what about you?’‘

Busying herself with pulling the report and her faithful notepad out, she hums evasively. "Been good... Any problems with sleeping again?" It wasn't fear or any need to be submissive. But seeing his eyes spark with life on many occasions, she'd gotten so used to them that it truly shook her when she witnessed their lifeless dark depths rivetted upon her during whatever it was that happened between them. This was her own way stopping herself before it gets any worse. He was just her patient.

Taehyung shrugged, he wasn’t sure if he ever slept well these days, maybe he was just used to it, so he just didn’t know. ‘’I guess so... I don’t sleep much in general.’’

As much as she wanted to continue on with the trajectory he provided, there was an elephant in the room that she needed to address first. Letting her eyes trail over his form, she finally meets his gaze with regret filling hers. "Taehyung, about yesterday, I owe you an apology for behaving so... unprofessionally and compelling you to do something you clearly didn't want to. I don't know what got into me. I've never— I just wanted you to know I'm genuinely sorry and it'll never happen again!"

Taehyung crossed his arms over his chest, the default position of holding himself, eyes flickering between hers as his head tilted vaguely, ‘’It won’t..?’’ In this case, he meant the situation at all. Did she regret getting down on him? Or did she regret triggering him? He wasn’t sure, and at this point he didn’t want to dig too deeply into it, anxious that he’d scare her off. He couldn’t afford to, especially not when there’s news of him possibly getting out of prison.

When she catches him crossing his arms, she sighs knowing the tell tale signs of suppressing ones true emotions. "It won't." She repeats firmly as if looking down upon a petulant child, her frustrations growing from the amount of whiplash this one man was giving her. "In your own best interest and mine, it's only proper that I remain as your therapist and nothing more, ever." Pushing a new file towards him, "It contains my diagnosis on you. You're welcome to read it if you want or I could summarize it for you."

Taehyung squinted, his gaze lingering on her as if he’s trying to find the lie. No, she was serious. She meant it. He hummed noncomittedly as he grabbed the file, flipping through the pages with his eyebrows drawn together. He didn’t look at her, keeping his eyes on the words on the paper, that apparently were about him,‘‘Yeah, if you could... summarize, that’d be great.’‘

Leaning back in her chair at his request, she hides her surprise at his nonchalance about the nature of their relationship. Wasn't this exactly what she wanted though? "You've been diagnosed with split personality and paraphilia, which is something like sexual sadism but to the extreme. Your lawyer, Jim—Mr. Park," she corrects herself, "—thinks this report would be enough to plead guilty without any criminal charges. I have detailed your treatment in there too. You'll be under my care in the hospital."

Taehyung’s eyebrow twitches when she almost mentions his lawyer by first name. Were they two close? He didn’t like that at all. But that was for another time ‘‘Hospital...?’‘ He squints at the words on his paper, looking at the treatment section, ‘‘That’s a lot of medication... Do I have to take it? Isn’t therapy enough?’‘

Wondering if the flash of anger on his face was due to the mention of hospital, she quickly seeks to appease him. "Yes, its the facility I work at. They're not going to completely release you until I find the underlying reason for your illness and treat you back to sound mental health..." Peeking over at the long list of medication he was looking at, she winces apologetically. "We treat certain cases with a combination of drugs and behavioural therapy. I'd reduce the dosage as time goes on. But for now, I'm afraid you need it, Taehyung!"

Taehyung puts the file back on the table, his eyes now back on her as he leans forward with his hands clasped together, ‘’Okay. I’ll do it.’’ He figured this was the best way for now, better than prison. He had to be there for himself to be able to plan out what he has to do, but he’s sure he can reduce the time there quickly, if he’s on his best behavior, and if the nurses were not as strict as he expects them to be... Skipping those meds would be a piece of cake.

Casting him a mildly suspicious look at his all too quick acceptance, she leans forward in his chair. "It's not a matter of your willingness, but the court's verdict in your next hearing. Until then, we continue with our therapy here." As much as she was positive it'd all work out in the end, she didn't want to feed him too much hope. "And Taehyung, I'll be your doctor there! Don't even think you can trick me or my assistants when you're under our care." She warns, taking the file back from him.

‘‘Of course... You can trust me, doctor.’‘ He smiled, but in the back of his head he was cursing. He’d have to figure this out as time went on. But for now, he had to lay low and cooperate. He remained silent leaning back to get comfortable, hands neatly clasped in his lap.

"I dearly hope I can." She mutters under her breath with a slight curve of her lips. Stacking the papers together, she clips it all back in the file as she speaks. "I'll leave it to Jimin to fill you in on the rest of the details about your next hearing. I'll be there before, to give my word as well." Putting everything away, she finally faces him ready to begin their session. "So, we can start from where we left off yesterday. Wh—" She realizes a minute too late, what that'd imply, her face instantly flushing at the memory.

Taehyung's eye twitches at the first name basis she calls his lawyer by once more. This time she didn’t even tries to stop herself. His jaw clenches, but he wills himself to relax once more. He crooked an eyebrow at her last words, and her reaction only made him feel a stir in his lower abdomen at the memory. Behave, Taehyung. “Let’s... where did we leave this at? Remind me.” He wanted to pressure her a bit. It’s the least he could do to get rid of his slowly building jealousy of Jimin.

Her gaze snaps up to meet his at the not so subtle demand, only to find the familiar darkness swirling around its depths. This weird affliction of hers with Taehyung will be the death of her, she decides. Sliding forward in her seat, she speaks in a softer tone, her earlier embarrassment forgotten. "Oh? You'd like that wouldn't you? For me to remind you..." Her voice turns into a whisper with her eyes tracing over his features. "Then how about a reminder of today morning when I told you it's never happening again, Taehyung?"

His lips curl up in a wolfish grin, he was trying so hard to behave. He was going to mess this up again if she kept spurring him on like this. First, she calls his lawyer by his first name. Second, she dares to whisper to him in that manner and within the same moment, reject him? Behave, Taehyung. “I don’t believe you.” Fuck, shut up, he told himself. But the darker part of him didn’t give a rats ass.

Wrong move. At the sight of his predatory grin, she admonishes herself for feeding into his desires when she's supposed to be doing the opposite as his therapist. She's about to pull away and apologize again, but his words bring her to a standstill. Blinking at the obvious challenge in his gaze, she resists the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Fine. What should I do to prove it to you?" She just had to show it to him she wasn't as affected by him as she really was, and then they can put this entire thing behind them.

His devilish smile grew, the boxy shape of his lips more prominent now. Taehyung slumped down on the couch more comfortably, resting his head back, his eyes were growing colder, piercing through her as his gaze drank her in like she was a fine meal. ‘’Watch me,’’ He smirked, licking his upper teeth in a teasing manner, his hand slowly trailing down his chest towards the hem of his pants, ‘’If you watch me touch myself, and you remain unaffected throughout... If you don’t want me at all while watching me, I'll believe you.’’

The satisfaction in his eyes makes it clear that he had her exactly where he wanted her, slyly caught in his web. Furrowing her brows in confusion, she's about to demand what he meant when she sees his hand inch towards his pant. Her eyes flicker between his hand and his burning gaze, nodding once firmly at his words. She'd just have to pretend to be unaffected. Sighing deeply, she drives her own bargain. "Okay. And if I remain unaffected, swear to me you'll never bring this up again?"

Taehyung chuckles breathily, his hand sneaking beneath his pants to directly touch himself, “Promise. And, if you really want me to stop, just say the word...” He moaned lowly, getting harder underneath the fabrics.

Her mouth parts slightly at his breathy words, his moan affecting her almost instantly making some wetness trickle against her underwear. "No. Go ahead!" She replies in a calm voice, her eyes fixed on him and each of his actions, appearing nonchalant despite the havoc he was beginning to cause in her body.

He sees the way she looks at him, even if her words speak differently. And this way, he could engage with her in the way he so much craved, but didn’t want to risk anything by actually touching her. Not yet. So, this will do. Her eyes will be enough for his inner exhibitionist to thrive off of the audience. All he needs is to get her hot and bothered, without laying a single finger on her.

She can feel the heat raise between her legs, but she resolutely keeps them apart, denying herself any kind of friction by crossing them and giving him the gratification of seeing her lose.

Taehyung lets a breathy moan push through his lips once more, using his other hand to pull his pants down further, taking his length out for her to see. He ran his thumb over his slit, spreading his clear juices down his tip before slowly stroking his cock for her, eyes never once leaving hers. “I love feeling your eyes on me, doctor.” His voice was growing needy, teeth clamping down on his lower lip to put on a show.

Her breath almost seizes when he pulls his rock hard length out. She can still feel the phantom weight of it between her fingers; still remember how deep he went when he used her throat so carelessly. Her core clenches around nothing at the mere memory, a muted gasp leaving her lips when he drawls her name out in his deep voice, causing more slick to pool between her thighs. Her fingers clasp on to the edge of her chair trying not to show how affected she was, despite knowing she has already lost.

“See what you to do me?” Taehyung squeezes his shaft firmly within his grasp. His red, swollen tip leaking with precum, he smooths his hand over his thick length, gathering the juices to spread it down his cock until it was glistening with a layer of his arousal. “Fuck, what I’d do to have you sit on it...” He was slow, but deliberate with his motions, aiming to tease her with visuals that’ll be burned into her memory.

She visibly gulps at his question, no longer worried about hiding how the fire in his gaze burns in her own while he was edging her on without even a single touch or graze of skin. Grinding her teeth together, she bites into the insides of her cheek as he strokes his swollen length when she wants nothing but to sink down on it instead and clinch hard until he can barely move inside her. Her breath leaves her in a whoosh and she opens her mouth before she can stop herself. "Ask for it... beg."

Taehyung groans lowly at her words, his hips gently bucking up into his hand. This felt too fucking good. He knows she was entranced by him, he fucking knows that she wants nothing else than to do as he says. But she was holding back, the sexual tension in the room making it hard to breathe, “Please, doctor,” his pleas were interrupted by a moan escaping his lips when he squeezed his shaft, “I want you... please, sit on my cock, fuck me.”

Some semblance of clarity returns to her at his pleading voice. It might not seem like it, but she knew she had a significant amount of power over him—at least in that instance. Shaking her head without taking her eyes off him, she slides off her chair and moves closer, toying with the hem of her skirt tauntingly but still staying out of his grasping range. "Three more strides and I could be on your lap, fucking you deep and hard. But why should I, Taehyung? Why should I after what happened yesterday?"

Taehyung almost whines at her words, his eyes never once wavering from the way she was playing with the hem of her skirt. He keeps stroking himself to the view, his eyebrows drawn together in sexual frustration. If she wouldn’t give in to him soon, he would almost consider whether or not he cares if he ends up in prison for simply taking her right then and there. And it was all too tempting. ‘‘I didn’t mean to... please fuck me, you’re driving me crazy...’‘

Physically feeling it when the darkness begins creeping into the molten heat of his eyes, she hastens to remedy the situation. Taking a step closer to Taehyung, "You cannot touch me unless I ask you to." Another step, "You don't get to come until I say you can." One last step, she tilts his head up with a finger beneath his chin. "Promise me you won't hurt me again and I'll fuck you?" Her gaze alternates between his scorching eyes and throbbing length, anticipating his reply with bated breath.

Taehyung licks his lips, ceasing to touch himself to let his hands fall limp to his sides, ‘’Yes, yes, I promise,’’ He felt desperate for her, his entire body burning with need to feel her slick heat. Her mouth was already his favourite thing, so he couldn’t even begin to imagine how good her cunt would feel. Now, he promised her he'd not to hurt her. But the little voice in the back of his mind laughed, fingers crossed. He wanted to be good, to show her he’s good. This was a true battle within his mind.

Feeling satisfied with his vocal promise, she reaches beneath her skirt giving him a full view of what lay there, and tugs her ruined underwear off her legs before climbing over his lap. Bracing her knees on either side of his thighs, she picks his hot length in her hand and rubs his swollen head against her dripping folds. "Feel that? See how wet you make me without even touching me, Taehyung?" She breathes against his mouth, her other hand tracing his cheek as she pins him with her eyes.

He’s speechless, his eyes dimmed with lust as they are completely fixated on hers. He nods once, to confirm that she was indeed so fucking wet for him. The familiar fire that spreads throughout his body is ignited, and he curls his fists tightly as he grasps the couch. Do not touch her, Taehyung. Do not touch her.. Touch her, touch... No, she’s in control.

"Use your words!" She reminds him in a whisper, with her lips grazing his and her breathing labored as her eyes roam over his features this close for the first time ever. He looked exquisite with his scorching gaze transfixed upon her. Her thumb traces his lower lip teasingly, wondering how different his mouth would taste from his cock. Giving in to the temptation, she presses her lips against his and sinks down on him at the same time, the sudden stretch making her gasp aloud into his mouth.

Taehyung’s lips part, mirroring her gasp, ‘’Oh my God...’’ He groaned out lowly, a quiet growl vibrating in his chest. This was overwhelming for his senses, how deeply she affected him and awoke every single fibre of his being. It felt like he was on fire beneath his skin, desperately clawing at the fabric of the couch, knuckles turning white. He wanted to flip her over and fuck her dumb with her face pressed down against the couch so so badly... But he promised her. Just fuck her raw, you know you want to. He shook his head, his eyes screwing shut, ‘’I’m good. I’m good.’’ He wasn’t talking to her, but to the voice in his head.

Trailing her lips across his cheek and down to his neck, she whimpers burying her face in there. She was right. She could feel his length easily hit her crevix in this angle, stretching her slick walls more than anyone ever had before. It felt like she was made just for him.

Once the initial pain subsides, she raises herself on her knees and sinks down again, welcoming the delicious burn with a throaty moan. "Yes... God! You're good. You're so good to me, Taehyung." She mumbles into his neck, slowly rocking her hips over his, getting used to being filled to the brim.

Threading her fingers into his messy hair, she tugs it back to expose his neck to her greedy lips, nipping and licking along the skin until she reaches his parted mouth. Backing away to look down at him, she hides her disappointment at his closed eyes, choosing to test his restraint instead. "Taehyung... Kiss me."

His eyes slowly open, and the expression on her face was something he could only dream of. Taehyung's head was screaming at him once more, to just fucking take over, and it was probably the most restraint he's ever held against the temptations. As long as she didn't push him further, he would be fine. He wouldn't hurt her... but God, did he want to? He obliged to her wishes, craning his neck to chase her lips with his own, the soft warmth of her lips drawing groans and moans from him, mixed with the feeling of her moving up and down his fat length.

Normally, he would be the one to dirty talk a whole lot more, but he kept his mouth busy with hers, focusing his entire self on keeping himself restrained, his nails almost digging holes into the couch at this point.

She moans against his lips, licking into his mouth as she deepens their kiss, groaning as his taste floods her senses. She could feel his potent hunger for her, so intense bordering on insanity and the masochist in her found it all too tempting to just give in.

Increasing her pace, she bounces on his lap in a wild frenzy, clenching down on his girth hard every time she plunged down on his cock. She could almost feel her high. Almost. Yet, not quite.

Something was missing. Whining in frustration, she pulls away from his mouth and cups his cheeks to make him look at her. She needed his touch to cum even if she knew it was a dangerous thing to even think about. "God... I want your touch so badly. You want it too, don't you?" Laying open mouthed kisses on his jaw, she whispers into his skin. "Make me cum, Tae... Please."

Right there and then, it was like the switch inside of him flipped, the little strength he had left to resist his greedy desires completely washed away from her words. She asked for it, she truly did.

The voice in the back of his head suddenly grew louder, needier. ''Yeah? You need me to make you cum, huh?'' His low, vibrating voice growled out, his hands wasting no time in grabbing her ass, and squeezing the flesh between his fingers so hard, his blunt nails would definitely leave marks,

''Shit, I've wanted you to say that since the very second you came in that door,'' He moaned out in pleasure, using his strength to lift her from his cock just to roughly slam her back down, his hips bucking up to meet her hips, the impact so hard that his bulbous tip is kissing her cervix with every snap.

''Fuck! You feel so fucking good, so fucking gooood...'' His eyes were dimmed in lust and his growing craze for her, the lifeless yet lustful stare blackened out. He wasn't gonna stop, whether she was too sensitive or not, whether she came several times or not. No, he wouldn't stop until he was satisfied.

Her body shudders violently at the sound of his growl, a terrified squeak leaving her lips regardless of the excitement she feels at the brutal press of his fingers against her flesh. "Yes, God... yes!" She whimpers, her pleasure edging on pain once he begins pounding up into her in his relentless pursuit of bliss— more his than hers, she realizes as her eyes tear up from his harsh pace.

Loosening her legs around him, she completely surrenders into his unforgiving touch, mewling lowly when he hits so deep that she could feel him in her womb. "Don't... don't stop please... Fuck!" She bends forward, burrowing her face into his neck, nipping at the soft skin before latching on to it with her teeth, determined to give him equal pain as her fingers work through his shirt buttons to feel his hot skin beneath her palms. One more ruthless thrust of his hips against hers, his pelvis digging hard into her swollen clit and she cums, her body almost seizing at the intensity of her orgasm as she begins almost sobbing his name aloud when he doesn't stop.

“Came already?” He smiles wickedly, but quickly that smile morphs into gritted teeth as he keeps grunting and growling, her fleshy walls spasming around his fat length so perfectly. He had stamina for days, he could fuck her forever if he had the ability to choose, but he knows that with the way she whimpers and sobs his name, he wouldn’t last much longer either. He roughly throws her body down against the couch head first, one hand on the back of her neck pushing her pretty face against the fabrics of the cushion and the other lifting her ass up for him as he gets on his knees behind her, mercilessly advancing his hips back into her clenching hole, skin slapping skin loudly.

She removes her teeth from his neck, her breasts heaving harshly, trying to get some air into her lungs when he unexpectedly pushes her onto the couch. She knew she'd awakened the beast when she asked to be touched, but this— he thrusts back into her without warning, making her sob loudly at the unwelcome intrusion

“You’re a fucking whore for my fat cock, aren’t you?!” His voice was low, almost mocking yet laced with his animalistic greed for her body, utterly lost in his madness, pistoning his cock into her like it was his mission to tear her cunt apart, “You wanted this, you begged for this, fuck— it feels so good, Shit!”.

Her core, still ultra sensitive from her previous orgasm, aches painfully when his still hard as rock length rips through her insides. She digs her nails into the couch, her jaws wide open in a silent scream as he rams his cock in over and over again, taking her like a savage. He was right. She was a whore for his cock. A masochist, addicted to this dark side of him— her own personal piece of hell for the sins she was committing. Soon, a trickle of pleasure begins winding its way from her wrecked womb even through the agony and she grips her walls harder against his cock, hoping he'd spill inside her before actually tearing her apart.

Taehyung kept up a brutal phase, relishing in the choked sobs and silent screams. If a soul could be on fire, his was melting inside of him, the heat pooling in his lower abdomen in the form of an upcoming orgasm. He was gonna cum so fucking hard, all because of her. In his own mind, it feels like he’s claiming her body as his own,

“You are mine, you hear that?!” He snarls as he grew bored of the current position, desperate to see her face. With a swift movement of his strong hands, he once more flips her over like a ragdoll until she was laying on her back, pressing her legs up so far that her knees are adjacent to her head, still plunging his cock into her cunt. This new angle feels even better, abusing her tight insides like his life depended on it,

Right when she believed there would be relief, Taehyung once again proves her wrong by tossing her around and forcing himself inside her violated cunt without any mercy. She feels him go even deeper in this angle, as if it were even possible. She presses the back of her hand to her lips, to keep from sobbing aloud and drawing attention from anyone outside.

“Tell me, doctor”, he moans out with a voice just as strained, his eyes heavy as he stares down at her fucked out state, rocking his hips back and forth with long, firm strokes, “Tell me you’re mine!”

Each time he slams into her, it's as if he wants to infuse himself within her; as if he wants to ruin her for anyone else— her other hand digs painfully onto his arms that holds her down, her toes curling as she feels another orgasm approaching. "Y—yes Taehyung, yes..." She gives into his demand immediately, her voice unwavering. "All yours! I'm yours... only yours." She mumbles over and over again, pushing the side of her face against the couch when it all gets too much to hold back and she cums again, which hurts more than the pleasure she feels as her abused insides grip him tight.

''Y/N,'' Taehyung moans out her name, his hips rocketing into her, phase quickening as he feels like he's gonna go fucking crazy at the wet, squelching noises he draws from her cunt with every stroke driving him insane with how good it feels. When she cums once more on his cock with the squeezing spasms of her walls, the orgasm he's been dying to reach finally reaches him, ''I'm gonna cum! Fuck yes—'' He thrusts into her rapidly clenching pussy a few more times before he grunts, falling forward on top of her body with his elbows placed on each side of her head, letting her legs fall freely to his sides. He hovers with his face above hers, sweat causing his overgrown fringe to stick to his face, eyes closed as he holds their spasming bodies tightly together, savouring the feeling of his throbbing cock spilling his cum deep inside of her.

At the first spurt of his thick cum into her tortured core, a wave of relief washes over her knowing he was done with her for now. Her limbs fall lifelessly on to the couch, despite wanting to push him off her and tell him not to cum inside her. Knowing him, he might not react well to it and she didn't wish to stoke the beast when it seemed satiated at long last. She was probably going to be sore for days, and maybe that had been his plan along.

Finally, she pries open her eyes and blinks up at him through her tears, her body still shaking with occasional tremors every time his warm seed squirts into her womb as if he hasn't filled her up enough. As much as she was upset with him for reducing her to this sobbing mess, she knew she had it coming from the very moment she allowed him to touch her, well aware that she was feeding into his obsession with her.

Taehyung felt himself come back down to reality, in a sense, when the loud monster within him seemed to retreat back into the corners of his soul, satiated for the moment. His gaze traces her features, a glorious mess, knowing he did this to her. But only because she begged him to, she taunted him to. He had absolutely loved it, her submissive sounds, her small body underneath his own, all for him to use. He loved her.

Lifting her slightly trembling hands up to his face, she pushes his sweaty locks off his eyes, content to see the life shining in there once again as opposed to the darkness they were shrouded with not minutes ago. Tracing a thumb under his eyes, "Are you happy?" She breathes out, still struggling to get proper air flow into her lungs. "I lied… I want you just as much as you want me, Tae."

His eyes flickered between hers at her words, as if trying to find the lie. But he couldn’t see it. He wasn’t sure. So he chose to believe her, and a small smile inched his lips upwards, he took the opportunity to kiss her softly on her lips, this one so gentle and affectionate in contrast to what he’d just done to her. “I love you.” He slipped out, merely a raspy whisper, but it was his truth. He slowly got off her body, pulling her along with him as he sat down, wrapping his arms around her in a hug, gently stroking her hair, “You’re my flower, my Daffodil!"

She observes him carefully in this quiet between them, his eyes gliding down her exhausted form still pinned beneath under his body. The wickedness was long gone from his gaze, replaced with uncertainty at her words which soon morphs into undeniable trust weakening her own resolve against giving in to him.

And so, she lets him kiss her, the soft caress of his smiling lips against hers a complete contradiction of his treatment earlier, making her heart tighten in an unnamed emotion. It is only when he utters those three little words, the very last thing she ever expected to hear from him, her entire body freezes up with a muted gasp slipping past her lips.

She lets him pick her off the couch, embrace her lovingly, and even go as far as calling her his flower while the panic slowly sets in her tensed form. It was only his obsession that he was mistaking for love, she was convinced. But how to explain it to him after everything she let him do to her.

Squirming in his hold, she pulls back slightly to look up at him with her bewildered eyes. "Taehyung... No! You— you barely know me for three days. This is not love..." It was merely their carnal desires, making them indulge in each other. "And I'm just your therapist. Not your flower... no..." She whispers softly as if to a wounded animal that could strike her at any moment if she made one wrong move.

His smile faded, eyebrows drawn together at her words, as if hes trying to process the meaning behind them, "You're not just my therapist." He sits up properly, helping her to do the same next to him, "You're mine. You said it yourself.. " he leaned closer to her face, eyes squinting, "I dont understand you...." his jaw clenched, as if trying to stay calm, but he feels the small frustration building inside.

He couldnt understand why she would keep giving in to him physically, but withdraw when he brings his emotions into the picture. He loved her, so what? He had already made his decision. And there's nothing that could change his mind.

She winces when he moves her upright, her skirt rubbing uncomfortably against her swollen cunt. Taking a deep breath and willing the pain away, she glances up to see his unhappy face. "Taehyung..." She tries again in the same placating tone she used before. "I said that in the heat of the moment." Because that's exactly what he wanted to hear from her even if she didn't mean it. Although, she decides not to say it outloud and incense him further.

"This thing between us is not love. We had needs. You wanted me. I did too, I wanted you. But that's just it! Consider this like uh... a kind of behavioural therapy to help you." She tries not to cringe at her own words. None of what she's saying makes sense to her either. She was usually better than this at explaining things, emotions or the lack of it to people. But her brain struggles to cooperate as she trails her eyes over his tense form in concern. Maybe she should've just let him say it without saying anything back— only, that would be akin to leading him on which would've been worse. Sighing heavily, she tries to pull away from him completely. "There's nothing left here to understand. I shouldn't have let any of this happen from the start! It's all my fault..."

Taehyung grabs her wrist as she pulls away, his rich stare growing more frustrated with her, “You’re lying.” He scoffed, “I know what I’m feeling, don’t tell me what is real and what isn’t!”

"I have no reason to lie to you about this!" She cryes, struggling to pry her wrist away from his grip, her voice no longer gentle when he seems to not hear her reasons. "Look... I'm not trying to call your feelings fake. But be realistic about this, Taehyung. You know me for less than two hours in the past three days. Maybe it's infatuation... or lust— let's not label it fancifully as love because it's not!" Placing her other hand over his, she doubles her efforts to wrest his fingers off her arm as she looks at him pleadingly.

Taehyung sighs, but he lets go of her wrist, fumbling to button up his shirt and pull his pants on properly, ''Let's call it lust, then.'' He runs his fingers through his hair, his face stoic as he's in thought. His brain was swirling once more, she was right. They had only known eachother for a mere few hours... But, he knows this feeling. This must be love. Right?

''Question....'' He looks at her while straightening the collar of his shirt, ''Do you seek to trigger my, so called...para...'' He hums as he tries to recall the diagnosis.

She rolls away with a barely concealed grimace once he frees her from his grasp, glad he was finally seeing things clearly. Rubbing a hand over where he held her wrist, she tries to guage how many bruises she might wake up with in the morning and will have to cover up in order not raise anyone's suspicion when his question leaves her shaken.

"What—" Her face falls as she presses her lips together, and hurriedly shakes her head. "God, no! Never, Taehyung. I'd never..." She begins reaching for him with her hand, but thinks against it at the last minute and drops it to her lap. "I want to cure you off your Paraphilia. Not trigger it..." A small part of her might have taken advantage of his weakness for her to try stopping him from doing anything extreme. But he didn't have to know that. "I told you, I only want to help you get better."

“Okay,” he nods, eyes suddenly averting from hers to look at the casefile on the table. He sits back down, looking as if he didn’t just fuck her with all his strength. Well, apart from the marks she left on his arms with her nails, which he didn’t seem to even notice. He rubbed his nape as he kept staring at the file on the table, lips falling open as if he wants to say something, but they close back together just as fast.

He had a lot on his mind to process, from his feelings, to everything they both just did, the way she suddenly rejected him, and now the future. Then once more, the voice smirking in the back of his mind wasn’t worried, it knew exactly what it wanted, and it was her. Nothing else mattered, everything else can be thrown to the side. Fuck the short amount of time together, it was enough. And she wanted him, he’s sure of it. She was just saying this because he was her patient. And one day, he won’t be— and they can be together. Yes... that’s what he believes.

She stands up on unsteady feet, her insides still quivering, and smoothens down her wrinkled skirt. But it turns out to be a mistake when she feels his cum dribble out of her abused cunt, prompting her to quickly tug on her underwear before she dripped everywhere. And that's when she notices Taehyung's eyes fixed on his file on the table but his gaze far away, his mouth opening and closing as if he had questions but didn't want to hear any replies from her.

Calmly, she shuffles back towards him, her mind already formulating a proposition that he might not approve of. "Taehyung, if you don't trust me anymore, I understand. I have been anything but professional to you..." She drums her fingers against the table when he doesn't look up at her or even appears to have acknowledged her. "I can ask someone else to replace me as your therapist. They'll take care of you from now on... You don't have to see me ever again if this all makes you feel awkward?"

His lip quivered at the very mention of her being replaced, eyes darting over to her form. “No. I don’t want anyone else.” He responded coldly. He truly didn’t. If it wasn’t her, he wouldn’t say shit. He wouldn’t cooperate. And by now, he knows she had grown attached too; whether it be out of lust or out of pity. It should be enough to keep her around, he hoped.

“It has to be you.” His eyes softened, glossing over with a layer of tears. He did feel sad, however, this was also gaslighting. He didn’t need to cry. He just wanted to squeeze her heart a little bit for him.

His reaction to her suggestion, just like she expected, didn't phase her much. Every single behaviour of his validating her earlier claim of how she was just his new obsession that he fantasized as love.

Normally, this is when she should throw the towel and withdraw completely from him before either of them posed a real threat to the other. But she genuinely wanted to be the one that cures him. And despite knowing how his glazed eyes were nothing but a device of manipulation, she moves even closer to him and places a hand on his shoulder and rubs it down, cooing at him softly. "Alright... I won't leave you. But then, you need to genuinely cooperate with me and work towards getting better. Promise me, Taehyung?" Her profound need to fix anything broken very well might be the death of her one of these days.

He melts under he touch, feeling accomplished. She wouldn't leave, and that's all he needed. "Okay, I promise," he nodded, and as if he wasnt about to cry in the first place, his eyes were dried up, a small smile on his lips. He glanced over at the clock, completely unaware of how much time had passed. "How much time is left for today?"

As doubtful as she was about his promise, she didn't let it show on her face choosing to return his smile. Glancing down at her watch, "We have about less than twenty minutes left." She contemplates whether to sit down, but chooses not to knowing it'd be harder to get up and out of the chair again. "I won't be seeing you until after your hearing tomorrow, if I can manage. Or it's gonna be only the day after..."

Moving her hand down his arm, she wraps it around his hand and squeezes it comfortingly. It might not have been very sensible to touch him again, but the line between them was so blurry by now that she didn't mind it. "Are you nervous about the hearing?"

Taehyung gently wraps his long fingers around hers, squeezing back as a response, a small sigh pushing through his lips, "Yeah, kind of." She wouldn't be there, so he would feel empty. But for her sake, he'd do well. And hope that things go the way she tells him it would.

She strokes the back of his hand softly with her thumb taking one more step closer and wraps her other hand around his shoulders before bringing him to rest against her body. A hug won't hurt when they've done much more than that. "Don't let it rob you off your sleep tonight. Whichever way it goes, let's hope for the best. And please listen well to Jimin, okay?" Her fingers move into his hair to stroke it gently while she stands holding him close.

Taehyung melts into her hug, sinking his face into the crook of her neck by instinct. He sighed softly, until she mentions Jimin's name. She kept addressing him by his first name so casually, and it was kind of stepping on his nerves. Maybe, he was overthinking it though, but... He still felt jealous. He wanted to be the only one with a casual first name basis. Then again, he has to be nice. Jimin is his lawyer after all.

Taehyung stands still, savouring her embrace for a long as she'd will let him, a soft whisper pushing through his lips, ''Okay. I'll do well.''

She had to raise herself on to her toes and tilt her head all the way back due to their difference in height when he decides to burrow himself into their hug. Despite knowing well how her actions could be considered as her bring irresponsible again and showing her fondness for him openly, especially after his confession, she brushes it all off and holds him close while running her fingers through his hair constantly. He needed her, for now. Just until he got better.

"That's good! Hopefully I'll get to see you at the facility next time and not here." She whispers back, trying not to shiver from his words spoken into her neck. Reluctantly, she tries pulling away only to meet with some resistance from him. "Taehyung, I should be going soon..."

“Just a little longer...” he murmurs into her neck, his arms dare to snake around her waist to hold her tighter, urging her to stay. His heart was beating hard in his chest, the quiet sound of the way he inhales her scent, the only sound heard for the moment. She truly smelled like a flower. If he could choose, he wouldn’t ever let go of her soft body, so small in his embrace. She was like a drug to his senses, both easing his mind & driving him mad.

She lets him hold her for a few extra minutes at his request, her senses hyper aware of how snugly he was embracing her and her heart thumping equally hard in her chest that was flushed against his. Her fingers begin drawing senseless patterns on the back of his neck, on the little exposed skin over the collar of his shirt as she keeps her eyes open and fixed on the ceiling, knowing very well she couldn't afford to get lost in the way he held her. Because she knew his arms weren't always this tender. The strength in them, as cherishing as they may feel right then, could easily snap her in two if he lost his mind to the beast again.

One more look at the clock on the wall and she sighs seeing their time was almost up. "Tae..." Her fingers sink into his hair and tug them back, trying to move his head away from her sensitive neck. "They're gonna come in here if I don't step out now."

Taehyung sighs deeply, a quiet groan rumbling in annoyance vibrates in his throat when she tugs at his hair. He hesitates for a moment, but eventually, he releases his grip around her, letting his hands fall to his sides, ''I just... I'll miss you.''

She moves away, breathing in relief when his arms finally stop caging her in his hold. Something small tugs her heart at his genuine voice, but she stomps it down harshly before looking up at him again. "You'll see me in two days at the facility... keep holding on to that thought, hm?" Slowly, she collects her stuff up trying not to limp too much as she moves around him.

Right before she's about to open the door though, she turns to cast him a longing look unintentionally. "I..." She begins, her eyes tracing over his features and a little lost in whatever she was about to say, until she decides not to. "—take care, Tae!" She leaves him with a smile. Between her statement and Jimin's tenacity, she was quite confident she'll see him at her facility soon.

And when he was there, nothing could stop her from trying to get him better.

CLICK ME FOR PART TWO

This is the roleplay with 🍁anon turned into part one of this fiction! I hope you love it as much as I do. A big thank you to 🍁 for creating the amazing header, saving the rp, hence why I was even able to repost this in the first place. AND for helping me edit this, I am so so grateful for this. Now, I even think it is even better than the previous version!

#yandere bts #yandere taehyung #yandere kim taehyung #bts smut #taehyung smut #kim taehyung smut #taehyung scenario #taehyung imagine #dom taehyung #fic: daffodil dreams

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legionofpotatoes · 3 years

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I love your art, it is very detailed in a neat way. Was wondering how you got started making it as a source of income? How did you get your first paid work, I'd love some advice on how to get started, if that's ok

Thank you. Of course it's okay, although I doubt I have enough work experience in art to really delve into this. I only went full freelance this year, and had been juggling art as a side hobby until then. If you're still interested in my somewhat narrow perspective, and are okay with my long-winded rambles, I'll give it a shot:

So to answer your question fully, I'll describe how I started and move into personal advice and learnings later on. As a disclaimer, I am a white cishet dude in my late twenties with a moderate cocktail of mental illnesses, but overall I can pass for a functioning adult so a lot I have to say may come laced with privilege I cannot fully identify.

So uhh I began drawing in around 2012? I think? Maybe halfway through 2011? And I mostly made fanart for things I enjoyed and tried to branch out in communities that felt nourishing to my style and interests (I caught a bug for alt posters and enjoyed mainstream movies so I spent a long time on posterspy early on). There were a handful of opportunities that came from there but I could only accept a couple because of primary workplace commitments. Still, it showed that networking in a focused community was definitely a good place to start; I myself have huge trouble committing to social networks and really staying socially active, but I knew it was an essential ingredient in succeeding so I tried to make myself be involved in challenges and art support trains etc. as much as I could.

In parallel to all that I also ran a few third party online stores (redbubble, teepublic) for disposable income and would sometimes, if rarely, hit around $100-150 a month from those sources combined. It is a sort of thing that requires helper accounts on other social media sites to promote it on, because the stores themselves have a huge volume of content that translates into low organic discoverability. Obviously it was never gonna be the way towards financial independence through art, and with community projects being few and far between, I opened private commissions in around uhhh 2017 I think, focusing on offering a few styles I knew I could do well, and sometimes operating in individual fandoms (it was mostly a bioware thing to be frank). But I had to close them back down after a year or so, again because of work-life conflict and how badly it was burning me out. The reason I kept trying to monetize this hobby is because I honestly hated what I did for my main job and wanted to see a way out in some shape or form in the future.

And then in 2020 I had to quit my main job altogether because of *gestures at pandemic* and deal with a mental breakdown from all the wonderful things it did to us and me specifically. I took a short break and decided to give art a shot full-time, and that was around May this year. I was planning on opening up commissions again (and I still am), but a few sudden opportunities that fell in my lap moved that timetable down and now I'm grateful to even be doing something I am getting adequately paid for.

So, with that somewhat limited perspective, here's what I've learned that I'd tell myself if I was just starting out:

1. Being a fan of something can be a shortcut towards effective networking kickoffs. Which are important evidently. If you love something and enjoy making content for it, join communities, settle into a combination of social media websites that feel right for those interests + your body of work + your inner rhythm, and try to play to content discovery as much as your mental health allows you to. Like I said, I know that I myself am incredibly bad at self-motivating to talk to people, so I found that synergizing common interests into fanart - which I enjoyed making anyway - could be a way to give myself a gentle nudge forward and build those bridges leading to community activities, which then net experience and coverage. Sometimes even freelance projects from official avenues. Again; picking the right spaces for what you're after is key. Companies roam twitter, concept art recruiters scour artstation or linkedin etc, instagram can land you private commissions and collab opportunities, so on and so forth. Find your niche and try to kick up dust. However...

2. I do not believe that any social profile can replace a good portfolio. The thing that made an immediate difference to me this year was building a coherent, simple website with my best work front and center and a contact form on top. Every single opportunity I got came from that form (maybe via twitter or instagram initially, but always sealing the decision after going through the website), so I firmly believe that showcasing your skills and portfolio in a visually arresting and user-friendly way is a big priority. I had some reservations about tackling that task but fortunately I had help from a savvy life partner and we slapped it together via wordpress in less than a day. Twitter/whatever social media is prevalent in your target groups is definitely important to get the right eyes on your shit, yes, but those eyes will then look for a second stop where your work and rates are more clear and concise. Simplicity is key imo, I cannot overstate this. So make a cute, simple portfolio!

3. Your skills and rates will grow and change as you do. Let them. Over the years I built several lasting professional relationships from my obsession over mass effect and kept getting opportunities both from bioware and their partner companies, some small and some a bit bigger. A one-off job earlier this year opened an unexpected door to another much larger commitment, and then the work I did there brought some attention from small businesses looking for commercial commissions. These were all incredibly different projects in terms of scope and budget, and I've been tackling them all on a case-by-case basis and slowly coming into my own irt my needs, rates, and SOW thresholds. It is still a work in progress (and a LOT of literal work as well), and very much a thing I struggle with in publicly marketing, which is why I felt a tad underqualified to answer your question in the first place (obviously I did not let that stop me). But what it means for me now is that I am rapidly developing into whatever my "version" of a functioning freelance artist is, and when the conditions for that guy are met, I need to be able to confidently plant myself and operate from that space despite past precedents. Do not let anyone bully you into downpricing what you yourself perceive as legitimate products of personal growth and development. Speaking of which...

4. The shitty challenge of turning envy into inspiration, and paddling outside your comfort zones in full riot gear. it is hard, but realizing that being a miserable, self-hating artist in my early days got me nothing but more misery back was the first real step I took and what truly blew the hinges off. I was just not pleasant to be around, I would badmouth my work all the time, and it all somehow made sense in my broken mind because the validation I sought was purely external and the way I sought it was through eliciting sympathy via self-victimization (even when I made something objectively nice). It all led fucking nowhere. Except perhaps to my own narcissism that I one day managed to identify and start managing. So I started looking at things that made me seethe with envy and calmly deconstruct and figure out their inner workings instead, do studies, and find nuggets of inspiration or discover new ways to approach rendering or building up specific elements. It was an application of analytical diligence to what I wanted to be a purely emotional, esoteric workflow, but that I deep down knew wasn't. Art is a discipline and a skill, and maybe it isn't a straight line, but you gotta find some line to thread nevertheless. Being self-hating was almost an identity I had to break out of, and despite it still being like, 4-5% there? I realize its cause and effect on me, my work, and those around me, so it is with a conscious choice that I gently set it aside when I work and especially when I learn. It won't always stay quiet, but the effort is the difference. Your doors towards accepting true growth and venturing into uncharted territories, art styles, and networking will really open from there. But there's a huge caveat...

5. Toolsets, accessibility, privilege, and all the good things that enable artistic expression and profitability are not given equal to all. you might do all the mental work I mentioned to be ready to rock and roll and learn and draw your way out of anything, but digital art is a fucking money pit that asks almost too much at times. I don't got a good case study here but identifying and ensuring accessibility to the tools you need to do your best work is, like, super important. The ergonomics can improve as you make money and settle into the job, but the basics have to be made available to you. And some of that might not even be under your direct control. That can be anything from pen tablets to software subscriptions to opportunities in hiring sullied by sexism or what have you. You gotta navigate all that through careful networking and money/time management. I don't do a good job of devoting specific slices of time to work/study, and my primary clutch is iPad software which went from a good deal to a nightmare scenario over the years. So all I can say here is do what I didn't; network, invest in a PC/tablet, and pick a software you'll learn that won't burn a hole in your pocket.

6. Be nice to work with? This one is hard to articulate and has landed my own ass in hot water in my early years because of how socially inept I am, but nothing is more worthwhile than being.. like. a good person to work with. That can be anything like meeting deadlines, or sometimes missing them but eloquently articulating why, being generous in early stages, being communicable and not too wordy in your emails, having a good grasp on abstract artistic concepts and how to describe them in simple terms, having a clear, laid out framework of your working rates in commercial and non-commercial projects and sticking to those guns with grace, understanding when you need to say no and saying it well, the works. Just being nice. Sometimes that might mean going headstrong with something you believe in, or simmering down and sucking up to the big man, all relative and adaptive. Part and parcel of the service provision dance that we all have to do in order to make bank. Know your lines here, obviously, and don't like. work for nazis. or uh.. *shudders* exposure. but be nice and empathetic and communicable and word will travel eventually. Skill may be in abundance these days, but good people are most certainly not, and capitalism has a way of bubbling up scarcity. Grim, but uh, them's the breaks.

I know I'm ultimately telling you to like. Have a body of work, make a portfolio, grow, and network. But that's really how I see it for now. And being nice can be a cherry on top that sets you apart, along with the inherent irreplaceable voice of your artwork. I think I rambled on enough, but if there is something specific you need my help with, even if you want to come off anon and talk in private, please feel free.

#anon #asks #long post #sorry I cant actually condense ideas better :(

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delos-mio · 3 years

Text

First Thing To Go - THE BEFORE

First thing to go was the sound of his voice...

The Before

The condo was dead silent- a knife with a jagged blade cutting through your very existence. But you hadn’t found it in yourself to play anything. Not the tv, not a movie. In fact, the record you’d loved so much and used to dance around to, smiling like everything was good, practicing for your first dance as husband and wife, lied broken on the floor. It was just another casualty of the night before.

Damian had been very calm when he told you it was over. His face was stone and if he was hurting deep down inside, his eyes gave nothing away. It was just a fucking transaction for him. You knew he could be cold- you’d experienced that plenty- but you never knew he could be so cruel. All he said was that he was sorry as he left you crying on the couch, the first piece of furniture you’d purchased together. No tears, no kiss goodbye, not even a sigh. Then it was just silence. Echoing, never ending silence.

Once you’d regained your breath and managed to dry your eyes enough to see again, you quickly texted your mother and your maid of honor, letting them know there would be no need to show up to the rehearsal dinner tomorrow as there was no longer going to be a wedding. Before either of them could get a single question out, you’d turned off your phone, tossing it somewhere in the bed. You hadn’t stepped foot into the bedroom, much less slept in the bed you used to share, since that night either.

Everything you looked at was a stinging reminder of the life you were supposed to share together. The life you’d already started to build. The condo was outfitted with art and furniture and media you’d picked out together. Shit, even some of the gifts off your registry had already shown up to the condo. He was woven into every fucking surface, into every fiber and space of the home you once shared together. It was really starting to make you sick.

With rage turning in your stomach, making you ill and angry, you looked around for anything Damian might have left behind. First thing was that stupid record. The one with the song that would have been your first dance as husband and wife. You went over and tore it off the shelf. You ripped it from the sleeve and promptly lifted your knee and cracked it over the top without a second thought. From there, it was an Easter egg hunt- finding and destroying, finding and destroying. By the end of your rampage, you were in full blown hysterics, the tears seemingly never ending. That night, you fell asleep on the floor, exhausted and broken.

It had now been a full 24 hours since Damian left his key on the counter and shut the door behind him. Tomorrow, you were supposed to become Mrs. Langford. What a difference a day makes.

You were zoning out in front of the TV, not even registering what was on the screen, when there was a knock on the door. Your heart immediately leapt into your throat. Maybe Damian realized what a fucking asshole he was and came crawling back to beg for your forgiveness. It was a tall order, but you couldn’t help but get your hopes up just a little as you sat up. But then there was relentless pounding on the door and a muffled shout from the voice you knew belonged to your maid of honor. It was only a matter of time before she came to hunt you down, really.

“If you don’t open this door in 3 fucking seconds,” Kendra hollered as you slid the deadbolt and looked her in the eye. “Christ…” she mumbled to herself, her dark eyes turning soft and sad. “Baby.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, moving aside so she could come in. The place was a mess, you knew that, you just couldn’t be bothered to clean up. What was the point anymore? Kendra followed you to the couch and took a pillow in her lap, tugging at a tasseled end as she clearly tried to think of how best to approach you.

“How...Why…” Kendra took a breath to regroup. “What the hell happened?”

You let out a sad chuckle and idly spun the engagement ring still on your finger for some reason. “I don’t know. I don’t know when or how it started.” That much was true. Damian had given you only need-to-know information the other night. “I came home from work and went to go change into sweats or whatever and when I opened the closet, all his shit was gone. Then I went to the bathroom and all his stuff was out of there too. So I’m kinda freaking out at that point because Dame’s not home and like, everything is gone. He didn’t say anything about staying elsewhere before the...” You took a steadying breath. “I tried to call him and kept getting the machine. Probably on like the 10th try, I heard him come in.”

“It’s ok,” Kendra said, placing a comforting hand on your knee.

“He comes in and says ‘oh, I forgot to leave my key’ like that just explains everything!” Your voice steadily rose. “So I’m like, what the fuck where were you? Where is all your shit? And Dame looks me dead in the eye and says ‘I can’t marry you Saturday. There’s someone else. I’m sorry.” Six goddamn years and he gives me three stupid, little sentences.” Your voice broke and finally a few stray tears fell from your eyes.

“Someone...someone else? Who!” Kendra shouted. “I swear to fucking god I’m going to cut his fucking balls out,” she added under her breath.

“I don’t know, Ken. He managed to leave that part out,” you said with a sad laugh. “He just...it’s like I never even mattered. I mean, did he ever even want me?”

Kendra was on her knees in an instant, kneeling in front of you and taking your face between her hands. “You matter so much. You are the kindest, funniest, hottest girl I know and I hope Damian fucking Langford chokes,” she said fiercely. “I’m so sorry babe,” she cooed and thumbed away your tears.

“I don’t understand what I did wrong,” you whispered.

“This is on him, not you. You understand that, right?”

“I mean, yeah, but…”

“No. No ‘but’. He’s a fucking piece of shit and there’s nothing in heaven or hell that could change that, ok?” Kendra moved to sit next to you. It felt good to have someone in your corner. Maybe you shouldn’t have turned off your phone so fast. “So after his bitch ass left, you destroyed what was left of his stuff?” she asked, surveying the rest of the condo.

“Something like that,” you chuckled before sniffling. “God, what am I supposed to do?”

Kendra rubbed your back as she pondered the question in silence. She let out a little excited gasp and shook your shoulder. “We should go on your honeymoon!”

“What now?”

“You guys already paid for it, right?” You nodded. “So why don’t we get on that plane on Sunday, go hang out in a nice ass suite in Hawaii for two weeks, and charge everything to his card!”

“I don’t know, Ken,” you said. “I feel kinda weird about going, you know? I don’t know if I can stomach it.”

“Babe, you deserve it,” Kendra said, punctuating every word. “The money is spent, gone, goodbye! So if we don’t go, it’ll just sit there gathering dust when we could be drinking pina coladas and watching surfers and fucking...I don’t know! Getting massages!” Kendra took your hand in hers and squeezed. “There’s no one on earth that deserves a vacation more than you do right now.”

You sat with the idea for a moment. Kendra made a good point, after all. But could you really find it in you to sit on a plane for 12 hours, stewing over the fact that you should be flying with Damian, basking in the afterglow of a perfect wedding? The other option was to stay in Chicago and sulk in your condo still alone and still miserable.

“Ok,” you finally whispered, nodding your head. Kendra let out a breath and finally really smiled at you.

“I’m so fucking proud of you.” She kissed your temple. “Let’s get you in the shower, ‘cause clearly you haven’t even thought about one since...then. And then we’ll pack and get in bed.”

You were so grateful she came over. At least someone was keeping it together.

---

Sunday morning came and you’d made it with plenty of time to the flight out of O’Hare. Now, Kendra had her head on your shoulder, snoring only loud enough for you to hear. You had hoped you’d be able to pass out on the plane, but your brain wouldn’t quiet for long enough to let you drift off. Instead, you were stuck looking out over the Pacific, stuck on how it should have been Damian pressed up to you. But he wasn’t. Nor would he ever be again. Now all you could do was hope that the hotel would have a tray of drinks waiting for you when you arrived.

#logan #logan delos #logan delos x reader #logan x reader #ben barnes #westworld #logan westworld #logan delos fanfic #logan fanfic #westworld fanfic #ben barnes character fic #fttg #masterlist

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peaceoutofthepieces · 3 years

Text

Sink Or Swim

tag list: @cleocc @feeling-kinda-so-so @hopelessromanticvirgo @dreamy-slytherin @adora8 @lockerfivethreefive @painfully-oblivious @poeticinemaa @jjustonemorething @sassy-sara @wedarkacademia @coolguyssyndrome @hischbabe @suckerforsobbe @tayspots @starmansander @theah0lt @zoenneforever @invisibleme @chibibanane @odi-et-amo85 @watermelonlover-123 @xiaomailab

The following clip contains mentions of mental illness and suicide attempt (near the end — when Lucas starts talking about his mother). Feel free to skip that section and message me for a brief description.

~^~

Friday, 19:41

Songs: Haux - Something To Remember; SG Lewis - Warm

Jens’s hands shake as he unlocks the door, nudging it open quietly with Lucas close at his back. He steps into the dark hallway and flicks on the light, dropping his keys on the small table as Lucas shuts the door behind them. Jens wills himself to relax, reminds himself that they’re alone as he shrugs off his coat and hangs it on the hook and allows Lucas to do the same.

“What did you say your parents are doing?”

“They’re having a date night for their anniversary, booked a hotel room. Lotte’s staying at her friend’s house.”

Lucas hums, tugs Jens around to face him and slides his arms around his waist. “So we’re alone, and you can chill.”

Jens drops his head onto his shoulder and nods, pressing a kiss to the crook of Lucas’s neck. He reaches behind himself to take Lucas’s hands and then leads him into the house. Jens plans to take him on a short tour, but they get interrupted at the first stop. Ace slinks out through the doorway to the sitting room and immediately winds himself through Jens’s legs, gazing up at Lucas warily.

“You have a cat?” Lucas asks, grinning down at the furball.

“Yeah, and he can be kinda bitchy, so I’d hold off on becoming a fan.”

As Jens says it, Ace butts his head against Lucas’s leg. Lucas raises his brows, grinning widely as Ace wraps around his feet. He leans down to scratch behind the cat’s ears and earns himself a purr as Ace rubs his head against his palm.

Jens watches the interaction with a glowing heart. It had been a spur of the moment decision, when Jens had asked him to come over. He hadn’t allowed himself to overthink, but had just jumped at the opportunity. He can’t remember the last time he has had the house to himself, but it certainly wasn’t within the space of time in which he’s known Lucas. Jens had only managed to spend the two nights so far with Lucas due to pure luck. Lucas had snuck him in the first time, and then his father had been working an evening and morning shift the second. They have never got to spend a full night truly alone, just to themselves, and that’s what Jens wants. His body thrums with the need for it even now, having ratcheted up a few notches since last Friday.

It’s almost unbearable, how much he just wants Lucas’s hands on him. It’s definitely embarrassing.

He may also be hoping to coax Lucas into opening up a little. Lucas has been a little quiet the past few days, thoughtful. He keeps turning to Jens as if he wants to say something and then stopping with a smile, offering him a kiss instead. Jens doesn’t mind the added affection in the slightest, even while being teased by his friends, even while wondering why it doesn’t freak him out. Lucas touches him and everything else seems to go still. That doesn’t worry him.

But there are other questions that still cause him concern, and he’s waiting and waiting for Lucas to provide the answers. He’s desperately reminding himself to be patient, to be trusting, but it’s difficult. It’s harder when he fears the faith isn’t being returned.

It’s familiar.

“You were so cute,” Lucas marvels, snapping Jens out of his daze. He’d wandered into the sitting room on his own and now stands admiring the photo frames on the mantle. His mouth stretches into a grin, taking in various images of Jens at different ages, none of them all that flattering.

“Come on, I didn’t bring you here so you could tease me,” Jens protests.

Lucas turns to him and raises a brow, smirking. “I thought that’s exactly why you brought me here.”

Jens flushes, but doesn’t deny it.

Lucas walks back to him, laughing quietly. “I’m not teasing, though. I mean it. You’re adorable.” He presses up onto his toes and kisses Jens’s nose.

Jens resists the urge to roll his eyes at him or drag him into a proper kiss and leads him to the kitchen instead. Lucas traipses after him leisurely, taking everything in, trailing his fingers along the wall. Jens opens the fridge. “Do you want anything else to eat? Or drink?”

“Uhm, just water, maybe?”

Jens pours him a glass of water and hands it over, filling one for himself and leaning back against the counter before taking a sip. He considers Lucas for a moment and then holds up a finger before slipping out to the back door. He cracks it open and immediately catches sight of Nugget on the step, waiting patiently.

Jens huffs and steps back, opening the door wider and allowing him to scuttle in and run straight to the kitchen. Jens returns just in time to see Lucas drop into a crouch, face lighting up with excitement as Nugget barges right into his hands, tongue hanging and tail wagging as Lucas sets his hands in his fur.

“Hi,” Lucas coos, voice taking on the tone Jens has only ever heard people use with babies. “You’re so cute. What’s your name? Huh?”

Jens bites his lip as he makes his way over to him, shaking his head at the display. By now Nugget is scrabbling at Lucas’s hoodie, having raised onto his back paws to get closer. “This is Nugget,” Jens introduces. “Nugget, this is Lucas. I was gonna warn you not to be jealous that I might like him more, but obviously he’s not gonna let that be a problem.”

Lucas grins up at him, entirely amused by his sigh and his pout. “You’re still my favourite,” he soothes. “Even more so now that I’ve met your dog.”

Jens laughs, but he is soothed. He relaxes even further as Lucas raises back to full height and draws him into a kiss. They enjoy the few seconds before Nugget barks, and then Jens is huffing and pulling away, looking down at him with a scowl. “Why did I let you in?”

Lucas smacks the back of his head for the comment, but kisses him again immediately after his whine of pain. Jens goes about getting Nugget his food and water as Lucas sits down on the floor and plays with him, looking entirely at home in Jens’s kitchen. It has an effect Jens can’t quite describe beyond the race of his heart and the flutter in his stomach. They spend a little while in this space, talking quietly about nothing. They discuss their studying, exams, assignments, for a few minutes before shutting it down in the agreement to take the night off. Nugget comes to settle himself in Lucas’s lap after filling his stomach, having already taken ownership of the boy. Jens might actually be a little annoyed if he didn’t feel so fond.

After a while, he lets Nugget back out into the garden and takes Lucas upstairs.

He has a brief moment of panic in which he wonders over the state of his room, not entirely comforted by the reminder that he has seen Lucas’s space in utter disarray multiple times. He’s glad when he opens the door and can’t inmediately see a mess or any laundry lying around. He turns to look at Lucas hesitantly, biting his lip as he watches the boy look around, taking in the space with delicate attention.

He moves around, examining the books on Jens’s shelves, his small collection of old CDs. He roves his eyes over the walls, where football posters are still tacked up alongside some of his drawings. Lucas zones in on these, lips twitching up at the corners as he gets closer.

“I didn’t know you drew.”

Jens shrugs. “I don’t, really. At least not like you. Not seriously. Just those kind of doodles.”

Lucas smiles fully, nodding. “They’re cool. Maybe you have a knack for art after all and aren’t just a secret makeup nerd.”

“Oh, Robbe already sent me some of the edited version of that. Do you want to see?”

“Really, already? That was quick.”

“It’s Robbe,” Jens laughs. “He’s always working.”

Lucas nods and Jens nods back, crawling onto his bed and patting the space beside him as he takes out his phone. Lucas settles down against his side, making himself comfortable on Jens’s shoulder the second he’s given permission. Jens pulls up the video and hits play. He relaxes into his pillows, focused more on Lucas pressed against him than the video. Lucas’s quiet laughter is enough of an indicator, and Jens only looks at the phone when he groans, covering his face with a hand.

“I can’t believe I let you rope me into this. Kes and Jayden are gonna see this and they’ll never let me forget about it.”

Jens huffs, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as he watches the footage. It’s one of the close-ups of Lucas, showing off the smoky eye Jens had managed to give him as he looks up at the camera, shaking his head before Jens stills him, laughing. “You look really pretty, though. I mean it,” Jens adds, before Lucas can roll his eyes or laugh it off.

The boy blushes instead, glancing up at him under his lashes, smiling widely. “You think so?”

Jens hums, tilting his head down to kiss him, relaxing further. “You always do, though. My handiwork just helped a little.”

“Oh, is that it?” Lucas laughs, leading Jens to hum again. “Okay, I see.”

Jens goes in for another kiss, but something has distracted Lucas. He leans up and away from Jens as he looks at his shelves again. “Is that a keyboard?”

Jens follows his line of sight before nodding.

“Moyo said you were more of a musician. Why have I never heard you play?”

It’s a simple enough question, and yet it makes Jens nervous. “I don’t know, I don’t really do it as much anymore.”

Lucas looks at him, soft and curious. “Would you play something for me anyway?”

Jens only hesitates for a moment before getting to his feet and fetching the instrument. He settles on the bottom of the bed, facing Lucas, who had leaned back to lie against the headboard as he watches him. Jens balances the keyboard on his lap and takes a moment to turn it on and adjust the volume, pressing a few keys to test it out and give him time to think of a song.

Eventually he settles on a score he’d learned recently, devoid of lyrics and focusing entirely on the notes. It starts off slow and allows him to get into a rhythm, fingers shaking, fluttering through the first few sections before gaining a little confidence as the rhythm becomes familiar.

It’s nerve-wracking, being able to feel Lucas’s eyes on him. Having anyone’s eyes on him. But he focuses on the music, and doesn’t falter.

He floats his hands naturally over the keys, having settled entirely by the time the rhythm picks up. It’s still not the hardest speed, and has a few repetitions, and it doesn’t take quite enough of his attention to make him forget about Lucas. He chances a glance at him when it slows down again, fingers lingering on the keys. Lucas is watching him with rapt attention, lips slightly parted, entirely focused. He looks much too enticing to just be lying here, in Jens’s bed, watching him, not doing anything to distract or attract attention and managing it anyway. Jens quickly averts his gaze down again and falls back into the quicker notes.

By the time he reaches the high section, his heart is at ease. It flows out of him in the stillness of the room, his pulse matching the ebb and flow of the music as it tapers out. It fills him with a light only music can, a familiarity now long ingrained in him. It’s in his nature, to pour himself out through his hands into the keys.

He holds the last note for an extra second, then looks up at Lucas. The boy is already watching him with a smile, eyes alight with that familiar wonder and misty with something Jens can’t identify. He crawls down the bed towards Jens and draws him into a kiss, deep and slow, careful of the keyboard in Jens’s lap as he tangles a hand in his hair. Jens kisses back reflexively, heart thudding.

“You’re amazing,” Lucas murmurs, after a few minutes that may just be seconds, expression still achingly soft.

Jens shakes his head, incidentally brushing their noses together. “It’s nothing special.”

“It is,” Lucas argues. “You are.”

Jens shuts his eyes and presses closer to him, swallowing around the sudden lump in his throat. They remain there for a moment before Lucas quietly says, “I want to talk to you, if that’s okay.”

It’s exactly what Jens had been hoping for, but it surprises him. His chest feels tight as he sets the keyboard aside and devotes his full attention to the other boy, who now avoids his gaze, nervously playing with his hands.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” Jens reminds him. “But I’m listening. Nothing’s gonna scare me away.”

Lucas nods slightly, licking his lips. He lets out a shaky breath before straightening his shoulders and looking at Jens, resolute. “I know you don’t really understand why I stayed in Utrecht, or why I felt like it was my fault when my mom…” he trails off. Takes another breath. Starts again. “I didn’t tell you, but I fucked up before. After my dad left, everything was a little shitty. I couldn’t do it on my own, couldn’t even understand how to begin. I just needed to get away from it. I spent as much time as I could out of the house. With Kes and Jayden, at their houses or at parties, drinking and smoking. It wasn’t a big deal then, because it’s what we were all doing. I wasn’t just some rebellious, angry kid or something.”

He seems to falter, so Jens nods. Reminding him that he’s listening and also attempting to encourage him on. Jens presses closer, letting their knees bump before he takes Lucas’s hands in his own, rubbing his thumbs over the backs soothingly.

“I didn’t even think about how I was barely seeing her. I was always home late and she was always asleep early. Everything was fine, so I could keep ignoring it. I got home one night as usual and didn’t pay attention to the fact that the door was locked, or that it was unusually quiet. I was shitfaced, so I just went straight to bed. Imagine the fucking shock I had when my dad woke me up shouting the next morning.”

Lucas huffs, self-deprecating, and Jens resist the urge to pull him into his arms. Not yet.

“She was in the hospital,” he says quietly. “She’d downed half a bottle of pills and the neighbours found her. They’d had to call an ambulance. My dad was still her emergency contact. And I had no fucking idea about any of it.”

He looks up, eyes watery, and Jens pulls him in and holds onto him tightly. Lucas folds against his chest, tucking his head easily under his chin as he clings to Jens’s red hoodie. Jens strokes a hand down his face and presses a kiss to the top of his head, breaking down what he’d been told and trying to figure out how he’s supposed to respond.

“Fuck,” is what he eventually settles on. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Luc.”

Lucas shakes his head, gripping him tighter. “If I’d just been there, it wouldn’t have happened. I didn’t even know she wasn’t doing well. She was supposed to have someone who could watch out for the signs. She was supposed to be safe with me.”

Jens shakes his head, squeezing him, trying to convey comfort and reprimand all at once. “That’s not fair. None of that is on you. You don’t even know that you could have stopped it.”

“But I could have tried. I could have gotten to her sooner. I could have done something.”

It’s so adamant that Jens doesn’t feel like he can argue. He tries to put logic to it, but it doesn’t feel like something that can be broken down in such a way. He doesn’t think that’s what Lucas wants. He isn’t looking for pity or for Jens to excuse him.

Instead, Jens says, “I understand, Luc.”

Lucas presses closer to his chest, but finally glances up at him. Jens notes that though it had seemed like he would, Lucas hasn’t shed a tear.

Jens strokes his fingers down his cheek and presses a kiss to his forehead, watches him shut his eyes. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”

Lucas nods, swallowing slightly, tilting his head against Jens’s cheek. “I just—it was too hard to explain right away. It isn’t something I talk about often. I mean, it’s been over a year since it happened and she’s past it, but I’m not. It’s dumb. Getting rid of the guilt...it’s something I’ve worked at and failed on for so long. Going back to her now, and messing up the same way just reminded me of what happened then and I couldn’t let it happen again. I’ve tried so hard, Jens.”

Jens cups his neck and tilts his head back enough to press their foreheads together, sending only comfort now as he gives another nod. “I get it. I’m not mad, Luc. I never was.” He sighs, letting his own eyes close as he attempts to gather his thoughts. “It just scared me. I know that I fuck up easily. I say or do stupid things and I don’t always pay enough attention. I’ve made it hard for people before. I was worried I’d done the same to you.”

Lucas shakes his head against his. “Hey,” he coaxes, touching Jens’s cheek. “I didn’t leave because you made it hard and I didn’t ignore you because I don’t trust you. I went home to tell my friends how much I care about you and I fucked up while I was there. I didn’t want to be the reason anyone got hurt, and I thought the best way to protect you was to let you go. But I fucked up and I’m so, so sorry Jens.”

“Don’t be,” Jens murmurs. “Just promise me you’ll stay.”

He has a feeling that they aren’t done. He’s aware that even if there is truly no more to het out of Lucas, Jens has his own demons lingering between them. But right now, Lucas is in front of him. He can’t bring himself to care about anything else.

“I’m staying,” Lucas swears instantly. “My life is easiest with you in it.”

“I know I’m shit at this, too,” Jens whispers. “At talking about things, and just being honest. I know I can make it hard to trust me. But it—it’s been hard for me to trust anyone, too.”

Lucas strokes his cheek, nodding, expression pinched.

“But I trust you,” Jens admits.

Lucas swallows. “Nothing is hard with you. You’re the only thing I’ve ever been sure of,” he replies.

Jens kisses him, hard and unrelenting, and Lucas gives as good as he gets as he slides his hands under Jens’s hoodie.

#van der stoffels #vds #wtfock #skam nl #sink or swim #vds season fic #sos clip

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lethendralis-paints · 4 years

Text

Artist Meme

Was tagged to answer this set of interesting questions by @kourvo

(original post is here: https://kourvo.tumblr.com/post/621355098110640128/artist-meme

Thank you so much for that!

Let’s see....

1) What is the character you've drawn the most (Can be original or fanart)

This precious boy. I can never get enough of him. One of the most compelling characters I have ever come across. Love everything about Fenris and can relate to him on so many levels!

2. What colour do you often use?

Gray and brown are my faves. And all other colours have the same chance of appearing in my artwork :D

3. Any colour you are bad at using?

I don’t think so...I love them all, even the pinks and yellows people usually find hard to incorporate into a colour palette. Tell me in the comments if I’m wrong :)

4. When drawing people, where do you start?

Funnily enough - either with the front of the hairline or with the left eyebrow. Don’t ask me, why - I don’t know myself.

5. What is a character only your eraser will love?

Hmmmm...any sort of villainous character. I can’t draw evil people convincingly. I’m a huge softy at heart.

6. Which of your works took the longest time?

Big scale commission I did for @pikapeppa, featuring all the Inquisition companions, along with Fenris, Rynne and Carver Hawke. That one took almost 3 weeks, due to its sheer scope and my relative lack of experience in such large works. Pika was extremely patient with me though, for that I am eternally thankful!

7. What techniques do you use when you want to improve in drawing?

Classical art studies. Varying my technique, themes I choose and software I use. I try to experiment and go outside my comfort zone often.

8. What do you think of the art of the person who gave you this ask meme?

I adore Lillymon’s technical skill, refined style and limited colours! She is a huge inspiration for me!

9. What art tools/media are you good with?

DrawPile, Photoshop, graphite pencils and liners. That’s about it :)

10. Art tools/media you are bad at?

Traditional paints. I have no formal artistic education and my lack of knowledge comes to the forefront whenever I have to paint on a real canvas. It’s so much trial and error, you can’t even imagine....

11. What do you think about your own art?

Lately it’s one of the last few things that were bringing me joy. I hope I won’t lose the passion for it. Because at this point I’m not sure I’ll be able to find some occupation I will be genuinely interested in and good at it. I don’t know if me gravitating towards moody fantasy art speaks about my fear of facing reality. If so, idk what to do with that. I do hope to develop my skills and being able to support myself financially as an artist.

12. Do you consult references for your drawings?

Yes. A lot of them. Anatomical atlases, schemes for both academic and manga art, photographs found online and taken on my own, copying colour palettes from classical art - anything goes. I think it’s essential to develop your technical skill.

13. What do you like about your art?

Lately - consistency, both in terms of produced results and in sticking to the timelines I set to myself. I hope this lasts. I would also like to branch out to other themes and not confine myself to quirky fantasy characters, so I’m working on developing my own story behind the scenes (spoilers) :P

14. What habits do you have while drawing?

Only the bad ones, lol. Hunching forward in front of the screen, forgetting to eat, drink and letting my eyes rest. Tilting my head to the side instead of rotating the canvas....I’m an idiot XD

15. Are you good at drawing faces facing right?

I think that’s the thing I’m good at!

16. How frequently do you draw?

For the last 1,5 years - almost every day without fail, for good or ill.

17. What do you do when you have artist's block?

Change occupation and work myself into a depressed state. I changed work places in the last few years a lot, working as an interior designer, draftsman, textile designer, a cook, a bartender to name a few.

18. What must you have when you draw?

No commotion around me and a cup of some hot beverage.

19. Do you have a lot of stray lines (messy lineart)?

In the starting stage of my work process - yes, like you wouldn’t believe! If it’s a personal doodle, I sometimes just leave in as am under layer and draw clean lines on top of that mess. It looks cool in a way.

20. What is drawing to you?

An essential part of what helped me to retain my sanity in the last year and a half. Hopefully a lasting profession that will help me pay bills and survive on my own, if my life falls apart entirely later.

21. Your art goal from now on?

Broaden the themes I depict, improve my technical skill, work on personal creative project and not only fan arts. And most of all - not giving up on it this time.

22. Artists you've had influence from?

To name a few: @kallielef @kourvo @shayafury @fairsparrow who I met here on Tumblr, and many others who I follow and zealously study their works for clues on how to improve my own work.

23. Artists you like?

I am following them all either here or on Instagram, I also do my best to share their works on my side blog!

24. Which is easier to draw, humans or animals?

It was animals earlier. But now that I started to diligently study human anatomy, I would say it evened out! I’m quite confident drawing humans/humanoids now!

25. Show us an old drawing

My first digital drawing from 2010 when I first bought my tablet!

26. What is the charm-point of your art?

I ummm....I don’t really get the question? Is that like the the strongest suit of me as an artist? Intense expressions maybe? Idk. Let me know in the comments :D

27. What is the first thing you would draw if we're talking about fantasy?

Broody warriors, he-he

28. Please draw your most beloved character:

Here’s a sneak-peek of me drawing him right now! :D

29. When thinking of characters is it mostly female? male? or androgynous/no sex?

I usually gravitate towards depicting strong-willed, caring, passionate, brave, honest men and women.

30. What did you draw yesterday?

Started cleaning up that sketch from the last question, actually!

31. What is the funnest part to draw?

A circle. Mostly because you’d die laughing seeing my struggle to draw a believable one XD

32. What part of other people's drawings do you notice first?

colours, mood, eyes, hands.

33. Regarding backgrounds, what is your method of making it easier to draw?

pick your favourite textured brush, find a good reference for mood and colour scheme, zoom out, squint your eyes and start slapping colours like mad. You’d be amazed at how much you’ll be able to achieve in 30 minutes with this approach. Bare white background is the enemy - destroy it! >:)

34. What colour coordinations do you like?

Gray or brown as a main colour and then deep, earthy, saturated colours to complement the main one. Pink and orange is the combination I strangely enjoy using lately too.

35. What character did you last draw? Fenris and Eris :)

36. Does your style change easily?

I don’t think so. More like it’s evolving slowly into something more serious and deliberate.

37. What part of drawing do you pay most attention to?

Facial expression, body movement, mood and light effects. Not so much the composition and framing, he he.

38. How do you feel about drawing adult art?

Tbh, I don’t consider straight up porn to be ‘adult’ exactly. To me adult art means aiming towards serious topics, exploring complex emotions and ideas, being honest with your viewer. I did doodle a few more steamy sketches of my OTP just to see if I could, but it was definitely a tongue-in-cheek kind of a artwork that I don’t take seriously.

39. Do you like criticism from others?

If it’s friendly and in done in private - I welcome it always.

40. How many people do you normally draw per artwork?

1 or 2. Rarely more. Crowded battle scenes are definitely not my thing :D

This was fun! Tagging forward to @shayafury @schoute @stella-minerva @nug-juggler @kallielef and anyone else wishing to go through such a long questionnaire!

#artist meme #art questions #art style #lethendralis rambles #my art

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marjansmarwani · 4 years

Text

Secret Smiles

[Ao3 Link]

Characters: Paul Strickland & TK Strand

Word Count: 2203

Paul knows TK is hiding something. He even knows that it has to do with a mystery man he's seeing, but he cannot figure it out past that. Until a night at a bar when a certain officer of the law shows up, that it.

This one was taken from one of @lauraperfectinsanity‘s Tarlos prompts (it’s number 2). I changed it a bit, but I think it’s still pretty close to the spirit of the thing, which was Paul figuring out that TK is secretly seeing Carlos.

------

Paul hated not knowing things.

Knowing things was kind of, well, his thing. Often it meant situations; who did what and what caused that. Sometimes it was just simply facts – he can’t help that he was a voracious reader with a memory like a steel trap. But it also meant people, and his friends and teammates were certainly included in that.

When he first started at the 126, Paul had been on his guard. Each of his new teammates had been subject to his own threat assessment. His brother had always chided him for it – telling him he needed to have more faith in people. But faith in people could get you hurt, so Paul instead chose to be strategic. He decided who it was safe to share information with and how much detail each person could be entrusted with.

It wasn’t easy, but it had kept him safe.

So, he examined and observed each member of his new crew in turn. Captain Strand and TK had been first, and he began his analysis the moment he entered the room for his interview. He quickly deduced that the Captain was sincere, that he harbored Paul no ill-will. TK was quiet during the interview, but when he mentioned identifying the people who wanted to hurt him before they did, he noticed a small smile that spoke of understanding and comradery. Paul allowed himself to relax – neither of these men were a threat to him. In fact, TK Strand might just be a kindred spirit – someone else who had faced hate because of who they were. In the end, it’s a large part of the reason he accepts the Captain’s offer – he knows that he will have allies in this journey; he won’t have to fight this particular battle alone.

The rest of the crew is easy to read, and soon he feels comfortable; at home. Within the walls of the firehouse things are safe, he can let his guard down. Not that there is too much to analyze anyways. The general rule is openness: they’re a family, they tell each other things.

Which is why he almost doesn’t realize TK is hiding something, at first. He’s not sure exactly when he notices but once he does, he picks up little hints everywhere. Maybe it was the first time he heard him abruptly change the subject. Or the time he noticed that the tale he told Judd about how he had spent his night off and what he told Marjan were slightly different. There were small inconsistencies in the details. In Paul’s experience, that usually meant it was a lie.

First, Paul is concerned. He can’t help but wonder if TK is in some sort of trouble, if there is something wrong that he doesn’t want to share with the rest of the team. So he watches, looking for signs of trouble and quickly comes to a very different conclusion: TK has a secret boyfriend.

It’s glaringly obvious once he knows to look for the signs: secretive texting under the table, small smiles when he checks his phone, late-night phone calls when he thinks everyone else is asleep. All the times that he disappears when they go out as a group, or when he makes excuses and doesn’t come out at all – especially when he is far too tired the next day to have actually gone home to sleep as he claims to have done.

He has a secret boyfriend, that part is obvious. What’s not obvious is why this is a secret. TK doesn’t generally come off as a secretive person. He knows it’s not an issue about coming out – TK is very open about his sexuality. Maybe the other man is not fully out? Maybe it’s someone TK feels like he shouldn’t be dating (Paul can’t imagine why that would even be a thing, but stranger things have happened, he supposed).

It wasn’t until a few weeks later and a conversation in the gym that Paul finally got an answer. He was stressed and anxious and feeling very out of his comfort zone with this whole Josie thing, and he hadn’t meant to snap at TK. But he was frustrated, and he took it out on his friend – his friend who was being a hypocrite because he was seeing someone and not shouting to the world about it yet here he was lecturing Paul about taking risks, about putting himself out there. He snaps out the jab about what TK would know about rejection without even thinking. He regrets it instantly – it wasn’t fair. He didn’t know what TK’s experience with coming out was. He didn’t know anything about his history. But it’s out there and he can’t take it back.

TK’s answer, when it came, surprised him. He sat up and fiddled with his necklace as he spoke, “116 days ago, when I asked my soul mate to marry me and he moved in with his trainer instead.”

Paul froze, for just a moment. He wasn’t even sure how to respond to that, how to acknowledge the level of vulnerability TK had just shown. “That’s rough,” he settled on, “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” TK agreed grimly, “that was not my best day.”

The conversation moved on and TK gave him some surprisingly sage advice. Paul took that advice, but he also took some answers. One: TK had been burned by love and was probably hesitant about diving back in. Two: there was more to the story than he had shared. The fact that he knew exactly how many days it had been showed that in spades. Maybe, Paul reasoned, TK didn’t want to share this relationship because he was scared. Maybe he wasn’t ready to take that step, to make things official. Given what he had just learned – and what he assumed, Paul couldn’t blame him.

That didn’t mean that he stopped trying to solve the mystery anyways. Partly because it was just what he did, and partly because TK was his friend and he wanted to make sure that whoever this mystery man was, they were not someone who was going to break TK’s too big heart again. He was more subtle about it – never asking any blunt questions or drawing conclusions. He simply watches and observes.

He’s watching one night when they are all at the bar and Officer Reyes meets them at Michelle’s insistence. He almost doesn’t notice at first. They are good at hiding it – far too practiced in the art of not drawing attention to their closeness. But there are still tells, little, unconscious things that they do. The things they probably can’t even help. The private glances when someone makes a joke, the small smiles. The hands that linger when they cross paths – the fact that they cross paths more often than is strictly necessary. It’s almost as if there is a magnetic pull between them and they are unable to stay more than an arm’s length apart. As he watches, TK crosses to the bar for another round, slipping behind Carlos, laying a hand on his hip as he passes. Carlos glances over his shoulder at him and gives him a smile that is far from casual.

Oh. Oh.

The realization hits him suddenly. He takes a sudden sharp intake of breath and somehow TK hears and turns towards him. Their eyes meet and Paul can tell that TK knows he knows. His eyes widen in panic and he slips away, heading not for the bar, but to the door. Paul sets his glass down, makes an excuse he doesn’t think anyone even hears and follows him. He finds him outside leaning on the railing of the porch, hands clasping the railing so tightly his knuckles shine white in the dim lighting. He comes to a stop next to his friend and waits for the other man to speak.

“You know,” TK says lowly, bluntly.

Paul nods, “Just figured it out.”

He waits, but TK doesn’t say any more, so he continues, “Is there a reason you don’t want anyone to know?”

TK sighs, releasing one hand from the railing to run it down his face anxiously, “No, not really,” he says uncertainly. “It’s not like we're not both single and out. Christ, we don’t even work together – there is no actual reason to keep it a secret.”

“Then why do you?”

“I don’t know.”

Paul scoffs, “Yeah, you do.”

TK glares at him and Paul raises an eyebrow. TK rolls his eyes but concedes his point, “Okay fine, I do.”

Paul waits, allowing TK the time he needs to gather his thoughts. The sounds from the bar drift through the windows, fighting for dominance with the sound of the crickets surrounding them. When TK’s voice breaks the silence, it nearly startles Paul.

“You remember how I mentioned that my last relationship ended badly, right?”

Paul made a sound of affirmation and TK continued, “I just…I wasn’t ready to jump into another relationship so soon. I was pretty sure I was never going to be ready to jump into another relationship again, actually. This thing, with Carlos, started as a hookup. I figured it would be a one-night stand, we’d both burn up some energy and frustration and move on, but he was stubborn. He wanted more and he pushed. I tried to resist, tried to stay away, but I couldn’t. Now, here we are – and I’m even sure where exactly here is.”

Paul studied his friend. His expression was tense, but even in just speaking about Carlos, his body language had relaxed. He may claim that he didn’t know what they were, but Paul would put good money on how exactly TK felt for the officer.

“Is that why you didn’t tell anyone?” he asked instead.

TK nodded, “I don’t really know what to tell, but there is also this part of me that just feels like once it’s out there – once it is no longer ours – I won’t have control of it anymore, and I won’t be able to deny what it is. I’m just…not sure I’m ready for that yet.”

Paul took a step closer and leaned on the railing next to TK. He chose his next words carefully, “I’m not going to tell you what to do or what to feel, but from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re already there, and I think that’s a good thing. You seem lighter when he’s around, even when you’re just talking about him. You care about him and if I had to make a bet, I’d bet he cares about you to. So, I’m not going to say you have to make a big announcement or anything, but maybe just keep that in mind. Maybe start letting go of the reins, just a bit and see what happens.”

TK turned to face him and raised an eyebrow, “is there where you tell me something about nothing that is important is without risk or something?”

Paul scoffed, “Nah man, I don’t do clichés.”

TK laughed lightly, and Paul continued, “I’m just saying, maybe see where this goes. I don’t know Officer Reyes that well, but I don’t think he’s a bad guy and I know he doesn’t want to hurt you. It’s going to be scary, but maybe let it play out. Besides, if the worst does happen, you have people to lean on.”

It was quiet for a long moment before TK responded; his voice soft, “That was good advice.”

Paul nodded seriously, “I don’t do subpar advice. Besides, I owe you. You helped me out with the Josie thing, and that’s what family does, right? Look out for each other.”

TK turned again, a soft smile on his lips, “Yeah, I guess it does.”

They stood in companionable silence for a few more minutes before Paul spoke again, “So, do we wait and go in at separate times, or do we go in together? I’m new to this whole clandestine relationship stuff. I am not familiar with this life of intrigue and secrets you’ve been leading.”

TK rolled his eyes, “Stop exaggerating, we don’t need to hide anything. If people draw conclusions well, maybe a conclusion needed to be made.”

Paul raised an eyebrow at the implications, “are you saying you’re going to come clean? Tonight?” he shook his head, “Man, I know my advice is good, but I didn’t think it was that good.”

“I’m saying,” TK said over him, “that maybe I should be a little more open. I feel bad lying to family, after all.”

“Do I get to say told you so?”

“You do not.”

Paul shrugged, “I’m going to anyway.”

TK shook his head and patted his shoulder before heading back into the bar. Paul smiled, and followed suit.

If for the rest of the night he noticed TK standing closer to Carlos, leaning into his space, giving him wide and open smiles, he said nothing. If the others started to notice as well and raised eyebrows before asking outright questions, that was really none of his business. He was content to quietly sip his drink and watch everything play out around him. When TK shot him a grateful smile as he grasped Carlos’s hand, he returned it.

Paul hated not knowing things. And this, this was a good thing to know.

Like it? Come leave a comment on Ao3!

#911 Lone Star #paul strickland #tk strand #tarlos #911 lone star fanfic #my writing #prompt fill

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thelostandforgottenangel · 4 years

Text

Good Morning everyone! I'm back!

I am happy to say that it is over, any reported harassment's against me were investigated; I had to send so much crap in and was told to wait; I was not guaranteed anything but it is luckily over and I can move past that and enjoy my followers and dear Tumblr family once again

Thank you for the few who gave me the support; I did get the messages whoever you are, I really would like to put a face to them but will not post them publicly to keep everyone safe.

Now I want to take this time to apologize to everyone for whatever I did because for the two people I had contact with talked me out of a very permanent plan to officially leave here if I lost my page after many years of being able to confide in people who cared and built me up because this is my safe zone; my safe haven away from my reality which I do need my escape to forget for just a second.

Returning to Tumblr after a forced hiatus, I was just happy to be back and check on my loved ones; getting my new phone in and finally having access to the internet again had me so happy until I got a message I did not fully understand

Now I had just returned; I had no clue what was going on when this happened and, yes, it upset me deeply to be delighted to talk to somebody I considered a friend and instead while replying to ask how they were doing wanting to be sure they were okay ((Understanding the person had been having troubles before I vanished I was looking in on a friend)) before the chat showed they had blocked me right after

Like everyone on here except one person; there is no way to contact me if I go missing. If I am not here due to I either: 1.) not having internet thanks to the person in control of it or 2.) functioning with a broken phone meaning - I did not get updates unless it was somebody who knew who to contact

I had no other way of reaching out since the friend is no longer active here after leaving months ago.

I had no clue what was transpiring and, Lexi, who anyone who has followed me since the beginning, is my lovely Anonymous penpal who sends me writing ideas for stories and the only real reason I left anonymous asks active because she, like me, suffers from extreme anxiety was trying to boost positivity for me because she understood my situation and the place I am in

I understand now she contacted a lot of people looking for me because; my anon messaging was finally turned off weeks before I left right after I stood up to my bully – I am sorry for that I did not get to say goodbye to anyone because it happened without warning and to those who knew what was going on I knew you would understand, and I know I worried a few people, it was never my plan to be such an inconvenience

Now at some point in the last few days, I had a dear friend send me some things in a submission that I never saw and wish I never had, thankfully; I know now, and for the sake of their sanity and to keep from adding any more drama or toxic actions to our wonderful fandom, they will remain unnamed because I do not want them catching any hate

Nobody here deserves hate.

So I will not be posting the original nor will I release the creator's name; this was a problem between us it stays between us because I do not wish ill on you; I hope you are successful and are having no more issues, I know returning to my page and not seeing any anon hate in my box after ten days is very refreshing for a change

I have seen everything said about me in three possibly four separate posts since it was all sent to me as one with little separations in-between, and I’m okay with it; I guess I have to accept this is how you feel I have nothing else to say on the matter

What you are saying is fine; I’m not going to let it get me, that is your opinion, and as human's, we are all allowed to have an opinion

Now, I don't know if you will see this, but I don’t think you are crazy in any way; I think you are intelligent and you have a huge heart; in our IM's you told me about your disorder also about you mental problem and like I said there I still understand; it runs in my family and, thankfully it bypassed me; but I still have compassion for those battling mental illnesses since I do have a few myself

I didn’t know about the ask you got until you mentioned it before I returned, and since mentioned by my best friend that she got one too earlier in the day I already knew who you were talking about

I had just seen it when I got blocked, and I didn’t fully get to read it until this morning when I was finally able to log on, and yes, I privately told you who that anon was because I had told her what a sweet person you were encouraging her to friend you, I have no idea how I lied but it is okay too

I was not here for those hate messages nor was I involved in anything I get too much hate daily when I am here to even dream of sending it but, nobody will believe me except anyone who has ever interacted with me

In your post, you warned people about three of those five people (Again; the ones I know about will not be named)

I only tried to interact once with your Raph; the response was enough to discourage me from ever trying again; you were stressed I got that because of everything going on I can only imagine you felt like it was an attack, I did not want an RP I just needed somebody to talk to that night, and, for once I didn't go directly to private messages as I do with everyone, that was my fault so I deserved the blow up even if I did not know about that RP until you explained. I apologized, profusely because I felt bad for bringing up – it was to talk, something many know I am not good at, I didn’t know the subject would hurt you; we had never interacted but you had offered to interact with me at one time if I needed you and trying to heal I attempted to reach out on the only thing I had seen on your page a long time ago

I don't get to RP for me haven't for a long while now, but I try to make others happy

But I am sorry I made an effort to reach out; you didn't need that

So if you are in the TMNT fandom, please be cautious because I only seem cause problems for the people I care for

You blocked me, you have your reasons, and yes, I do respect them and, after this post, it is in the past; I hope you are doing and getting along well

And guys, I can’t and will not give the name of this person or do it privately because I don’t want them catching any hate, but please, by all means, if you ever find their blog follow them; they are so talented and deserve so much love from this fandom

Lastly, while I will be staying on Tumblr because I do not want to leave any of you, I will be making several changes to my several pages soon to make sure this never happens again and to all my followers; I love you guys, and for that, I will no longer be posting struggles on here anymore even though I only gave you guys a penny in a 10-gallon bucket because I needed comfort that was too much; my problems are my burden, not yours; and I can not say how sorry I am that I ever put that on any of you

Nobody needs to know what their friends are dealing with when we come here to be happy because it is too much to put on anyone not personally dealing with it, so you will only see the sadness in my stories and only see the struggle in my art

My ask box will be open; anon will alternate day to day but, any hate I hope not to see will be deleted immediately; if your face is on the lovely message; you will be blocked right there just like the last 12 people since quarantine started for me in February

Also, while I am still here *this is a scheduled post it is 4 a.m. my time will post, hopefully after I am asleep cause my sleep schedule is grossly off* I do not want ANY hate streaming from this post, I know my followers will not do that to anyone; this is just me getting it out of my system

We are breaking the chain of toxicity right here! We were not meant to be friends in this lifetime but maybe the next

Tumblr, at one point, was always a beautiful, safe place for many of us who needed a way out of our situations; and when I joined in 2014 as a supernatural blog I was run off, then I came back again in 2016 for TMNT and found my family some of us just wanted a place to be us; to not be judged for who we were, it needs to go back to that for all of its members soon.

We have already lost way too many wonderful creators from here let's not lose any more

And if you have noticed a difference in the last three months, mostly pertaining to my writing; I downloaded Grammarly and started taking classes with my old English teacher on ZOOM who, bless her heart, had to deal with my dumbass in school because I suck at punctuality.

I was very self-conscious about admitting that, but somebody reminded me there is no shame in learning something again and I have been working hard

#scheduled #mun will be on later #been up all night with sick kids

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eryiss · 4 years

Text

Request: Portrait of a Lightning God

Summary: With a crappy job and no financial support, Laxus needs money. On Bickslow and Evergreen's advice, he goes for an audition to model for the reclusive painter Freed Justine. A man he knows nothing about, but finds himself enthralled by. [Fraxus One Shot]

This was part of a prompt based request thing I'm doing, based off of a request where Freed is a painter and Laxus is a model. It was made by Tumblr user: @alex-is-wily. I hope you all enjoy and if you have a request please leave a comment or maybe go to the ask box.

You can read this on FanFiction, Archive of our Own, or under the cut. Hope you enjoy it ^.^

Portrait of a Lightning God

Laxus couldn't quite believe he had resorted to this.

He was standing in an art studio, with another man looking him up and down. This was a situation unfamiliar to Laxus, and one far from his comfort zone. The man inspecting him didn't seem to be at all bothered by Laxus' discomfort, either because he had been in this situation before and was used to it, or simply because he was the type of man who didn't take other people's feelings into account. Laxus hoped it wasn't the latter; if this went well, the two men would be spending a lot of time together.

That was the nature of being a painter's model.

The whole thing was Bickslow and Evergreen's idea. Since leaving college, Laxus had been unemployed and using his family's money to get by. Apparently Makarov had gotten sick of that and cut him off. The only job Laxus had managed to get hadn't paid well, just enough to keep him in his apartment and eating. But it was unstable. His friends' solution was to pick up some extra money by modelling.

He had immediately discounted the idea, but they had been prepared; very prepared. They'd found an ad online from a painter needing a model for an upcoming painting. They had done a background check on him; the artist was respected, and previous models had only good things to say. They'd even gone so far as to contact him so they could get a better understanding of what Laxus would actually need to do. Apparently it should take four sessions, it would happen in the countryside, and would involve no nudity; Evergreen apparently knew that would have been one of Laxus' first questions.

There was no reason to say no. Annoyingly.

So now he stood in the painter's studio, allowing the man to inspect him. Laxus wasn't entirely sure what the inspection was for, as he had already sent the man pictures of himself and had been accepted for the job. Based on the multiple poses Laxus had been told to make – all just different ways of standing – he assumed this was a brainstorming session.

"Cross your hands in front of you and look down," The painter instructed, and Laxus complied.

He had looked into who the man was. His name was Freed Justine, he was a growing name in the art world (if the articles about him were to be believed) and apparently favoured landscapes to anything with an actual person in it; there was obvious exceptions, but not many. His private life was something of a mystery, apparently, and he had gained the reputation of a recluse.

Laxus hadn't accepted that and had also gotten in contact with one of Freed's previous models; a woman named Mirajane. She spoke highly of him, both as a painter and as a person, and had encouraged Laxus to try it out. From their conversation, Laxus surmised he was a good man, but could be standoffish. He was certainly seeing that.

A small hum broke Laxus' thoughts.

"I think that might be it," Freed said, apparently to himself. "You can relax now."

Laxus did so and looked behind him towards the painter. He had walked to a drafting table and sketched a quick figure in the same pose that Laxus had just taken. It only took a few moments and was nothing more than a series of lines and ovals, but it was certainly Laxus; the blonde couldn't help but be impressed.

"You said that you're free on Wednesdays and the weekends, correct?" He asked, looking towards Laxus.

"Yeah," Laxus nodded. "The other days I start at eight and finish at five."

"Okay. I'll email you the time and places ill require you, and I'm sure we can discuss our meetings further that way," He stood up and reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. Laxus frowned as he picked out a selection of notes and offered them to him; it was around a hundred dollars altogether.

"I didn't think I was getting paid for today?" Laxus asked; not yet taking the money.

"I need you in certain clothing; a black exercise shirt and black jeans. I could attempt you guess your sizes, but this seems easier," He offered the money again. "Make sure its high-quality fabrics, and if this isn't enough tell me and I'll reimburse you for what I owe."

"And if it comes under?"

"Consider it a bonus," Freed shrugged. "I'd appreciate it if you got them quickly, though. Ideally I'd like to start on Saturday."

"Sure," Laxus nodded. "There anything else you need from me?"

"Not today. As I said, I can email you with the details of where you'll need to be and when," Freed placed his pencil down and looked Laxus in the eye for the first time. He was smiling a little. "I look forward to working with you, Mr Dreyar."

"Err, you too," Laxus muttered awkwardly.

Freed didn't walk Laxus to the door, but the blonde didn't care. As he walked, he played with the money in his pocket absently; this was the most disposably income he'd had since being cut off. And definitely too much for what Freed had wanted him to buy. He decided that he would buy the clothes immediately; he'd use some of the remaining money on getting a pizza or something for his dinner. It would be great not eating something not from a microwave.

After leaving the studio, he thought about Freed. Mirajane had been right; he could be blunt and seemingly uncaring, but he wasn't exactly rude. And logic dictated the more time they spent together, the less awkward it would be. It wouldn't be nearly as bad as Laxus had expected it to be.

The guy had a nice smile, too.

-~---~-

If it hadn't been obvious from his studio, Freed had an incredibly keen creative eye.

This was the only conclusion Laxus had made when he first saw where he would be modelling. He had managed to find a small, private lake outside of the city. It had an old wooden dock on it which, which looked at from a certain angle, stood directly in front of a large mountain. He had managed to find this location, and gotten permission to use it, within three days. It was… incredibly impressive to do so.

After Freed had explained what he wanted Laxus to do – stand on the edge of the dock in the same pose he had done in the studio – the blonde had asked why he hadn't organised a location beforehand. Apparently he had, and the original idea had been to paint him on the top of a city rooftop, but Laxus was better suited to a more natural environment, as he was a more earthy figure. Laxus didn't know if this was a compliment, an insult or just an observation, so he decided just to ignore the comment and do what the painter wanted.

That had been over an hour ago, they hadn't spoken since.

Laxus hadn't known any creative people in his life, so didn't know what exactly to do. He had decided that he would remain quiet, staying in the pose, as this was safe. Freed seemed level headed, but artists could be volatile and Laxus didn't want to risk angering the man. His work has staff rescheduling and Laxus knew he was at risk, so money was tighter than normal.

It was boring, but not difficult work. The post wasn't taxing on his body, and Freed had allowed him a single earphone so he could at least listen to music. It was essentially as expected. He was standing still; Freed was painting him.

"I should apologise," Freed spoke suddenly, and Laxus almost broke the pose.

"Why?" He asked after a few seconds to think.

"I was not welcoming when you came to my studio," Freed explained, and Laxus glanced at him. he was still painting. "When your friends contacted me, they explained this wasn't something you've done before, and you might not be comfortable. I didn't take that into account, that wasn't fair of me."

"You don't need to worry about that," Laxus placated.

"Perhaps," Freed agreed, and Laxus frowned a little. "But still, I apologise. I've been stressed for the last few months and I haven't been the most respectful person."

"Well, don't beat yourself up over it," Laxus assured him. He waited a moment before speaking again. "What's got you stressed out?"

"I have an exhibition in a month, it's in the biggest gallery in town. Well, other than museums, but they hardly count if you're an artist with an actual pulse," Freed explained, and Laxus chuckled. "But it's high profile, and I have to please them to keep in good faith. They want twenty exhibits altogether, and I'm not as prepared as I would like to be."

"You far behind?"

"I've finished sixteen of the twenty so far."

"That ain't too bad," Laxus said, glancing up at Freed again. He still hasn't stopped painting despite their conversation, so it wasn't too much of a distraction. "When did you start?"

"Eight months ago," Freed sighed, and Laxus winced a little. That meant about an average of two paintings a month, and now he had a month to do four.

"That could be worse," Laxus attempted to assure him, and Freed stopped painting to look at him with a slight raised eyebrow. His tone must not have been convincing. "Do you think you can make it."

"I'm sure I can," Freed sounded resigned. "I just don't want to sacrifice quality."

"Well, I'm sure whatever you do, you'll manage to make it good," Laxus was surer of his words now. "From what I've seen of your stuff, you're pretty good. And the critics seem to like you, especially that Jason guy. He just couldn't stop talking about how great you are."

"He' an enthusiastic man," Freed chuckled. "But still, this exhibition is like a test. Artists who had better respect than me tried filling that hall. If it doesn't work, they were classed as over-hyped and forgotten by the end of the month. I'd rather than not happen with me."

"Well, good luck I guess," Laxus didn't know what else to say. But the quiet was deafening. "And you really don't need to worry about upsetting me; I can take a bit of rudeness. I was a pretty big asshole as a teenager, it'd be hypocritical if I was sensitive about it."

"I suppose it would," Freed nodded, before smirking a little over his canvas. "Well, I'll be sure to treat you like dirt then, if that's what you want."

"Can't picture that," Laxus challenged, glancing up again. "I mean you felt so guilty about making me uncomfortable. I mean you must have been worrying about it the moment I left the door, ya might have even lost sleep. But sure, if you wanna upset me, you try your best."

"Don't misinterpret my politeness as being passive. It will not end well for you," Freed warned, and Laxus let out a single laugh. "Unrelatedly, that pose isn't working. You seem to be healthy enough unless your muscles are simply for vanity. Perform a handstand, quick as you can. I'm sure a man like you can sustain it for a few hours."

Laxus laughed, waited a few seconds and glanced at Freed. The artist was looking at him expectantly, no sign of a joke on his features. Laxus broke the pose, a little disbelieving.

"You're serious?" His voice was a little panicked.

A moment passed before Freed smirked again and looked down to his canvas. Laxus let out a little breath of relief before laughing and getting back into the pose. He was smiling this time and hoped that it wouldn't ruin the painting in anyway, because he couldn't seem to fight it. At least he felt a lot more comfortable now.

"Asshole," He laughed.

"I suppose," Freed agreed, and that made Laxus smile wider. "But if you doubt me again, I can assure you I'll follow through with any threats I make. You'll find my desire to be spiteful supersedes my desire to be successful."

"I don't doubt it," Laxus laughed again.

He smiled for the rest of the session.

-~---~-

The more Laxus got to know Freed, the more he liked him.

Over the weeks they had been meeting up for the modelling sessions, they had spoken a lot. Sometimes about Freed, sometimes about Laxus, and sometimes about whatever came to mind. The sessions had lasted hours, so it was hard to remember what exactly all their conversations had been about, but Laxus enjoyed them all. Freed made him laugh, made him feel comfortable, and made him look forward to their sessions together. He loved being around the other man.

He didn't need to go to every session anymore, but he still did. Apparneltly Freed had drawn him first and had planned to do the background after; his usual way of painting models. But Laxus insisted that he be there just in case he needed to make an adjustment and needed him there. It was an excuse, Laxus just enjoyed Freed's company.

Maybe Freed knew this. Laxus didn't mind if he did.

Laxus had grown attracted to Freed and thought perhaps Freed felt the same way. He hadn't spoken about it; he wasn't the type to let his feelings be known. Certainly not when there was a risk of fucking things up between the two of them. Being friends was better than nothing.

But still, the blonde couldn't help but think that maybe something was happening between them. Freed hadn't once questioned why Laxus wanted to be there when he didn't need to be and seemed to welcome the company. They'd gone to coffee a few times, once after a session and once just because Freed had offered. Even as he watched Freed paint, it didn't exactly feel platonic. Though the wine the two were drinking might have contributed to that.

God, were they having a picnic weren't they? This was close to being a date. That was too much to think about.

A he glanced to Freed, he frowned a little. He had noticed that the conversation was somewhat one sided. He had put it down to Freed being engrossed in his work, it had happened from time to time. But previously, Freed hadn't worn the worried expression on his face. His hands hadn't been tensed. And he hadn't drunk three glasses of wine within a two-hour period.

"Okay," Laxus sighed after a while, taking the paintbrush out of Freed's hand. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Freed said immediately.

"Fucking lie to me again, Justine. See what happens?" It was perhaps a little confrontational. But Freed could be a closed book when he wanted to be, and Laxus was slightly buzzed from the wine. It seemed to work, as Freed's facial expressions went from challenging to resigned.

"It's just… I haven't had this much trouble painting something in a while. It's bothering me," Freed sighed, looking at his painting.

Laxus couldn't agree with Freed, the painting looked great. Only half of the background was completed, but it was done very well. And the figure that he had been modelling for looked great as well. Perhaps he was just the type of person who was overly critical of their work, although that didn't seem consistent with what he knew about the man. Freed had a lot of confidence in himself and wasn't the type to shy away from his own pride.

"What can I do to help?" He asked; he was better at solutions than sympathy. "I can get back up there and see if that helps."

"Perhaps. Thank you."

Laxus nodded and walked to the small wooden dock. He got back into his pose and didn't speak for a while, knowing that it would help Freed get back into a creative mindset. Glancing up without moving his head, he saw that Freed was painting again, so decided that remaining quiet would be for the best. Freed's deadline from the gallery was getting closer, and it was only fair he did what he could to help him out.

He looked down again and allowed Freed to paint. This continued for a little while – around ten minutes, if Laxus was guessing correctly – until Laxus heard a small scuffling sound. He frowned and looked up. As he did so, Freed shouted.

"Fuck!" His voice echoed as he stepped over his upturned easel.

Freed hadn't sword often, and the visceral tone in which he had said it shocked Laxus. He left the dock immediately and walked to Freed, who had chosen to pace around the small clearing of dirt that he and Laxus had been sitting on. His jaw was clenched tight, eyes unblinking, and breath slightly audible. He was clearly incredibly stressed out.

"Woah," Laxus said, grabbing Freed by the shoulders and stopping him. "What happened?"

"It's wrong," Freed snapped. "When I started it, I thought I had the idea down. But I don't, and I've been painting it wrong basically since we began. This was meant to be the focus point of the exhibit, and it's a conventional piece of bullshit. A child could have done this."

Laxus would disagree, but Freed didn't need that. "Can you fix it?"

"Not without starting over," Freed sighed.

"Well, what exactly would you do differently, what's wrong with it?" Laxus asked. Maybe if Freed explained why he didn't like it; he would figure a way to fix it.

"There's no personality in it. No honesty. There's none of-" Freed cut himself off, before thinking a moment. "There's none of you in it. not really."

"What d'you mean."

"I mean… I decided to stage it here because I thought nature reflected who you were, do you remember that?" Laxus nodded. "Well, look at it. You can't see your face, you're in a pose I chose before I knew anything about you, you're in clothes that I chose for you. It doesn't reflect who you are even slightly. You're supposed to be the focus of the exhibition and I've made it so you could be replaced by basically any man in the country."

That was… a lot. Laxus hadn't known he was important in Freed's exhibition; he really had just thought that he was just the model for one of the paintings. Obviously Freed had thought otherwise, and just hadn't mentioned it.

"Okay," Laxus said after a moment. "We've got a week left. That enough time to start again with a new idea?"

"Don't be-"

"Is it enough time?" Laxus asked again.

"It's…" Freed sighed, thinking. "I could paint something in a week, and it could be good. But I'd have to work almost constantly, and you've actually got a job so… It just wouldn't be feasible."

"I'll quit," Laxus shrugged, and Freed's head snapped towards him. "I'll quit, then I can be here as much as you need me."

"What?" Freed asked, apparently blind sighted.

"The boss says three people are getting laid off at the end of the month anyway. He hates me and I'm not great at what I do, so I'm basically gone already," Laxus shrugged. "Why give them any more of my time, right?"

"And if you're wrong."

"Hate working for the place anyway. This would've been the kick I needed to get out and move on."

Freed waited for a moment, thinking. "Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have offered if I didn't," Laxus assured, and the tone he spoke left no room for argument.

"Thank you," Freed smiled, and Laxus' stomach flipped.

He would do perhaps anything for that smile.

-~---~-

The difference between Freed when he had his freak out and how he was after he restarted his picture was like night and day. It was almost jarring, but Laxus was loving it. To see him so content, wrapped up in his creativity, was a sight to behold.

Laxus would stay here forever if he could.

There was a clear difference between the first painting and this, particularly in how Laxus was posing. Freed had insisted he wear his favourite outfit, and Laxus had complied. He was dressed in tattered combat boots; the same black jeans he had brought with Freed's money (they'd quickly grown to be his favourite); a purple shirt he'd owned for a while; and his long fur lined coat. Bickslow had seen him before he left that day, and claimed the outfit was quintessential Laxus.

Freed seemed pleased with Laxus' choice and smiled when he first saw him. The only adjustments he had made was requesting Laxus unbutton his shirt, so his stomach and chest were visible, apparently making Laxus seem more in tandem with nature. Laxus had done so without argument.

It was funny. If he had been told that would be his outfit when he met Freed, he would have turned down the job offer without hesitance.

His pose was different too. No longer was he looked down with his hands crossed. Instead his right arm was raised straight into the air and his fist was clenched, and he was looking directly at Freed; he compared it to looking down the lens of a camera. He was no longer standing on the dock anymore, instead he was on the shore of the lake, the water reaching to the middle of his shins. The tail of his coat pooled around him, and the chill was obvious, but he didn't care.

The speed in which Freed was painting was faster than he had in all of their time in the first version of the scene. And all throughout, Freed had been talking and smiling. Laxus hadn't realised that the longer they had worked on the first painting, the more subdued Freed had become. Now, he seemed more alive again.

Laxus was relishing in it.

"So," Laxus asked, keeping the smirk on his face as he spoke. Freed had requested the expression as well. "You gonna let me see anything today?"

They had been doing this for days, but Freed hadn't once shown Laxus what he had painted. With the first version he hadn't been shy of showing Laxus, but apparently this was different. When he had asked Freed why this was, he had been told that this was an honest reflection of how Freed saw Laxus, and that Laxus could see it only when it was complete. Laxus understood why this was but found himself craving an insight as to how Freed saw him.

"Potentially," Freed said, and Laxus' heart quickened. When he had asked before, the answer had been a flat no.

"Really, you're close to being finished?"

"I think so. Close enough that I might show you, at least," Freed smiled a little, and Laxus felt a thrill go through him. "We'll probably have to come back here tomorrow though, to finish on the finer details. So don't expect a day off."

"You're harsher than my old boss, y'know that?" Laxus laughed.

"I take it as a compliment."

Again, Laxus laughed before setting his face into the expression that Freed wanted from him. Even with the arm raised into the air, he hadn't had any trouble holding the pose; although his workouts had suffered slightly on his arm. Perhaps he was being sentimental, but he thought that maybe this was because he was looking directly at Freed's face, and watching the artist's content expression as he worked was hypnotic. The first day he had been posing for hours – with breaks, Freed wasn't so cruel as to keep him still constantly – and it had gone by in the blink of an eye.

That was an issue that plagued them both again, as time seemed to be rushing by. The two kept talking as Freed worked, and Laxus was in a constant battle to keep a smile from beating out his smirk. It was almost therapeutic; a sensation helped by the slight movement of water and the ambience of the nearby insects.

This relaxation broke at the sound of thunder.

Both Freed and Laxus perked at the sudden rumbling, and Laxus looked behind him. Clouds had formed above them, and it looked as though it was going to start raining. Laxus frowned a little at that.

"You think we should call it a day?"

"Probably safest," Freed said, already standing up and removing the painting from the easel.

They were quick to get back to the car, as they felt the first drops of light rain hit their skin. It wasn't heavy yet – not nearly heavy enough to damage the painting – but they both wanted to be sure. Laxus was quick to put the easel and paints that he was carrying into the trunk, securing them so that they wouldn't move around and be damaged as Freed drove. They had done this before, and had it down to a fine art.

But as the rain got heavier, their routine was disrupted slightly. Freed handed Laxus the painting without a word, and Laxus took it without thinking. It took him a moment to realise that, with Freed giving it him, it was also giving him permission to see it. he held it out under the protection of the trunk's door, and his breath hitched.

It was fantastic.

In his hands, Laxus held the only piece of art he truly cared for. He was at a loss for words as he looked at the detailed mixture of colours and inks and paints, all stemming from Freed's talent.

The painting focused on him. He was standing in the lake, arm raised to the sky, surrounded by nature. But it wasn't just a recreation of what Freed had seen. Thunderous clouds had been painted in the sky, almost swirling despite being still. A beam of erratic, powerful looking lightning slammed from the sky, hitting Laxus' raised fist and stammering down his arms. Flicker of lightning danced across any exposed part of Laxus' skin that could be seen and reflected off the lake. The colours around him were somewhat subdued and natural, but he seemed vivid and bright. His eye practically shone on the page.

"What do you think?" Freed asked, and he almost sounded nervous.

"It's fucking…" The words wouldn't come to Laxus. "It's amazing. You erm- You said you wanted to reflect more of me in this one, right?"

"I did," Freed nodded, voice still a little nervous. But he was calm. "When I look at you, Laxus, I see lightning. I- if I'm honest with myself, I see someone sharp, fast, exhilarating, powerful. You overwhelm me, Laxus. You are electrifying in a way that I can't quite put into words. I hope my art can make up for that."

Laxus still held the painting, looking at it with wide eyes. The rain beat down on his back, but he paid no mind to it. Freed thought he was overwhelming. Ironic, considering that was exactly how Laxus felt.

"Does it have a name?" Laxus asked, voice a little hoarse.

"I wish to call it 'The Lightning God.'"

That was the final straw for Laxus. He placed the painting in the trunk of Freed's car, stalked towards the artist and wrapped his arms around him. One snaked around Freed's waist, the other placed on the back of the man's head. He pushed their bodies together and pressed his lips against Freed's into a soft, passionate kiss. The rain beat down on the two men as Freed also moved, leaning into Laxus and kissing back.

That moment was timeless, and Laxus' senses were on fire. He could feel exactly what Freed had described. Everything was sharp and exhilarating and overwhelming and electric. Laxus couldn't have hoped for more.

As they kissed, thunder roaring around them and crackled of electricity lighting up the sky, Laxus saw the accuracy of the painting's title. If Freed thought that Laxus was the lightning in the painting, then Laxus deemed Freed the God. He was the creator, the man who had brought beauty to the world in his actions. What better god could there be?

And, as the painting had clearly proven, beautiful things happened when you mixed lightning and a god.

#fraxus #freed justine #Laxus Dreyar #request #freed x laxus #fanfic #fairy tail #writing

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