9electricistasautorizados68-blog

[mockhound]

Speaking is hard

[atrwriting]

trust me -- billy the kid x barowner!reader

hi everyone :) sorry I've been MIA — law school has been kicking my #ass but it's ok. I saw the new thg movie and while IAMNOTACORIOSNOWSTAN but I am a t*m bl*th and the man was so fine in this show. so fine. I've only seen like three fics for this man (maybe I just don't know how to search correctly thats probably my fault) but I was SEARCHING FOREVER and then I just got pissed because I couldn't find any so I wrote almost eight thousand words for this man that is how down bad I was

informal warnings: me. 1) I should be put on a leash 2) I use italics way too much 3) and whatever the fuck this "—" is 4) will i ever give up the female bar owner trope 5) will I ever stop tho? [vanilla ice voice] no, I don't know

as always, the actual warnings: smutty smut smut SMUT!, unprotected sex (1880's bby but you still gotta wrap it before you tap it), violence, guns, bit of gore but like the tiniest bit, virgin!reader, p in v sex, oral sex, bit of a dom!billy, bit of a bratty!sub!reader, overstimulation what can I say I should be put on a leash

anyway.... here's trust me:

when your father died… it was hard to be sad. he wasn’t very kind and he never seemed to like you very much… but in his will, being his only surviving kin, he left you money.

a lot of it.

and an old building.

the town it resided in was convenient in the way that many people that were passing through had to stop there. so what did you do? well, the only thing you could do — turn it into a restaurant and boarding house.

the money he left behind was used to fix up the place and pay your employees.

within a few weeks time, your place was up and running with very little vacancy. families and important people were always in your bar or comfortably in their rooms. never had you ever thought someone could be as lucky as you.

until one day. that day.

you worked alongside your employees but flipped between positions. sometimes you were a hostess, ran the front desk, a bartender, or anything else that needed tending to. in response, many people did not know you were the owner — and, therefore, some people treated you like you weren’t.

mainly gross old men, which you could handle. however, when a young, strong, and tall man challenged you?

that was dangerous. too dangerous.

even a fake wedding ring didn’t steer them away.

on that day, a young blacksmith had found his way into your bar. he was handsy with you much of the night, and you tried your best to steer him away. it wasn’t until you pulled a knife on him that he finally let up. it didn’t look like anyone saw, but still — you were scared and worried. would people think you classless, for pulling a knife on a patron? would they see you as weak? would they notice that the alcohol you served brought in too rowdy of a crowd? would they stop venturing in?

you thought no one noticed, and tried to convince yourself of that fact — but you were wrong.

when you were closing for the night, mostly everyone had left. a small group of men usually stayed until close — and you didn’t mind. they drank well, paid their tab, and were mostly quiet and polite. you didn’t know any of their names — but it was usually bad when you did know a patron’s name, so you liked them.

you had your back turned to the front of the bar, stacking bottles, when someone cleared their throat from behind you.

“ma’am?”

you turned around.

a tall, fair skinned man with a hat stood before you. his clothes were old and worn, and his fingernails reflected that he was a hard worker during the day. that type of exhaustion was also reflected in his eyes.

but, damn... his face? no one could deny that that man was handsome.

you smiled. “another drink, sir?”

“no. thank you.” he paused for a moment, keeping your gaze. “i wanted to check if you were alright.”

you immediately knew what he was talking about, but kept your face stoic. “yes, sir, thank you.”

he looked like he wanted to say something, but struggled with how to word it. “he usually a problem?”

you clenched your jaw. “he’s… he’s fine. too much drink, ‘s’all. gets the best of working men. can’t blame ‘em.” you swallowed, trying to keep your anxiety at bay. who was this man and why did he care? was he a friend of the man? “you sure there’s nothing i can’t get for you?”

“some wouldn't blame ‘em.” he ignored your question. his bright blue eyes held your gaze. “i would.”

you forced a tight lipped smile. with a laugh, you joked, “i’ll… be fine, sir. thank you. thought a fake wedding ring would do the trick… gotta think of something else now.”

he smiled, but in a sad way. “i was going to ask if your husband ever checked in on the place.”

“no husband,” you affirmed with a sigh. you introduced yourself, and then asked, “what’s your name?”

“william h. bonney, ma’am… but you can call me billy.”

“nice to meet you, billy,” you smiled. “and, please — don’t call me ma’am.”

“alright.” he returned your smile. “the men behind me… we run a sort of — security detail for part time work. if you ever wanted to hire us, we could have a man here when we can spare.”

you nodded, contemplating your offer. he explained the per diem, and you immediately agreed.

“if your man can keep this place safe with little bloodshed, i’ll even throw in a free bottle a day,” you countered.

and that was how your business with billy the kid and his men began.

the men that came along were usually polite and quiet, and mostly stayed at the edge of the bar. they watched for problems, and slowly but surely your fear had begun to subside. there was a minor scuffle one day, where a man had cracked a glass and cut you with it… but billy’s man had stopped him before he could do anything else. you didn’t hold it against billy’s guy — you cared about your business and if the business got bloody, not so much yourself.

billy, on the other hand… did not agree.

one day, bright and early, he parked himself at the middle of the bar where you stood behind the counter.

“rarely see you for detail,” you smiled, wiping down a glass. “much less this early. breakfast, mr. bonney?”

“billy, ma’am,” he responded. “breakfast does sound fine.”

you laughed. “i hate when you call me ma’am.”

“don’t much like it when you call me mister,” he quirked an eyebrow. billy was a rather emotionless and hard man, but you could tell he was joking.

you laughed again. “steak and eggs for billy, coming right up.”

the rest of the day went on peacefully, and you kept billy’s glass full. he was quiet and didn’t talk much, which you weren’t too keen about. he was mysterious, tall, dark and handsome — which was usually a bad combination. you knew it was, and you should’ve cared — but you didn’t.

as you were filling billy’s glass into the later hours of the afternoon, you finally bucked up the courage to ask him a question.

“so why did you stop in today?” you asked. “not that i mind. i just have only seen you when you come in at night.”

“we made a deal, sweetheart,” he responded. your eyes perked up at the nickname. you didn’t hate the nickname — but you hated yourself a wee bit for how much you liked hearing billy call you it. “the man i sent here was supposed to make sure he kept you from harm — he didn’t hold up his end on the deal.”

“it was kept quiet from the other patrons,” you responded. “that’s all i really care about. i’m a woman in the restaurant and boardinghouse business — stuff like that is bound to happen. no need to be hard on him.”

“you keep my men’s glasses too full for them to let slip ups like that happen,” he replied. “he knew better. should've acted better.”

“you’re the boss, billy,” you sighed with a smile. “i’m just the bartender.”

“damn good bartender at that,” he spoke. “too good.”

you giggled, and grew ashamed rather quickly at how much you enjoyed his company. you didn’t know him well, no… but damn, was it nice to have him around.

the rest of the night was rather quiet. a few families had stepped in and out, and a few meetings were being held where the tables sat. that was until the blacksmith that started this whole thing came in and sat himself only a stool away from billy.

you threw a look at billy, but he didn’t meet your eyes. his peripheral vision was already on the man. billy remembered him, and you couldn’t say fondly.

“whiskey, sweetheart,” he grunted. “leave the bottle.”

you sighed. a quiet day was going to turn into a rough night in a matter of a few moments.

“mr. martin, i can’t leave the bottle unless you settle your tab from the nights prior,” you answered. “i can get you a double and add it on, though, if that’s alright with you?”

“that’s not alright with me, girl,” he grunted again, glaring you down. “leave the damn bottle!”

you stood your ground. “there’s a bar across the street, mr. martin.”

“you don’t want my business, that it, sweetheart?”

“not much business if you don’t pay," you quipped.

through gritted teeth, he spat, “leave. the damn. bottle.”

“pay. the. tab.”

he went to catch you by the arm, but you were too quick. you anticipated his antics this time. you snatched an empty bottle, and broke the base of it in the sink. you put the broken, jagged edge of the neck of the bottle in between the two of you. your eyes were wild — you could feel it, and both men could definitely see it. startled, he drew back.

“this is the only bottle you’re getting with that attitude.”

that was when billy stood up and walked towards the man. the thuds of his boots, though few considering the short distance, were deafening in the mostly silent bar. you may have had a makeshift weapon, but billy? billy the kid? everyone knew what he had on him.

“time for you to leave, friend.”

the man laughed. “friend? who’s my friend to tell me when i need to leave?”

“the one who’s a quicker draw than you, that's who." his answer was slow and cool — too calm, which only made the shiver of a threat run up and down your spine faster.

the man, all talk, clenched his jaw as he stared at billy. he slapped the tab money on the top of the bar, and walked out.

you didn’t let out a sigh of relief until the man left.

but billy was the one that spoke first. “was going to step in immediately… but you held your own. they need to respect you before they’re scared of me.”

you laughed. “little does he know i’m all talk as well.”

“with that bottle?” he chuckled. “sweetheart, even i was scared.”

“you threatened him with a gun… i don’t think anything scares you, billy,” you asked. “thank you for stepping in.”

“‘s my job.”

“i know… but still,” you spoke.

you were continuing to close before he spoke again.

“what made you want to start this place?” he asked.

“my father passed a few moons before i opened this place,” you responded. “no parents, no husband — thought i might try this out.”

“my ma wanted to start a place like this,” he replied. “never got the chance.”

you nodded with a sad smile. “didn’t know her… but i think she’d be proud of how you handled that. don’t think he’ll be much trouble anymore.”

“she’d think i’m trouble with how full the lovely bartender keeps my glass,” he spoke, but looked like he instantly regretted it. “my apologies, i shouldn’t’ve — the whiskey —“

“you’re fine,” you laughed, your blush pinching your cheeks. as you walked away, you threw over your shoulder, “hopefully your ma wouldn’t mind that i keep her son’s glass full for his good work… nor that i think her son’s handsome.”

from that day forward, billy was always the man who sat at your bar.

he always greeted and made pleasant conversation with you, and glared at any man that got too aggressive with you. if looks could kill… billy would never need what he held in his holster.

you’d giggle to yourself after the creepy men would walk away. you’d never know… but when billy would hear your giggle afterwards, he’d smile, too.

but he kept that to himself.

however, slowly… he was becoming more comfortable with your company.

“so why didn’t you marry?” he one day asked randomly.

you were wiping down a glass when you got lost in the thought. “when there’s a nice one that’s interested… maybe. haven’t already because there aren’t very many nice ones. it was very convenient when you started keeping the bad ones away.”

to your dismay, he didn’t say anything in response.

but you had gotten comfortable with his company, too. too comfortable.

“and why isn’t there a mrs. bonney, billy?”

“she’d get jealous about how much time i spend with you,” he responded.

there was very little emotion in his voice, and you were afraid of reading into what he was saying. was he returning your flirtations? was he telling you that you were a drag? to answer your own question, you jokingly said, “well if i’m too much trouble, mr. bonney, you are more than welcome to have another one of your men step in.”

“well, ma’am —“ he began. “then i’d get jealous of how much time they were spending with you.”

you couldn’t hide the blush that rose into your cheeks. billy looked upon your face with a small smile tugging at his lips, and his gaze didn’t waver.

“keep talking like that, billy, and i’ll become trouble for you,” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“can’t say i’d mind much,” he responded, taking a sip of his glass, but holding eye contact with you.

if you weren’t frozen, you would’ve pulled yourself over the bar right then and then and planted yourself in his lap. you would’ve flung his glass to the floor, and wouldn’t have cleaned it up until you had kissed every inch of that man. you would’ve responded, but you couldn’t...

that was when billy’s men had stepped into the bar.

the air immediately darkened. the blonde one, named jesse, had led the pack as they stalked in. billy immediately flipped around to see what the problem was.

“sweetheart, give us a minute,” billy asked, calling over his shoulder.

billy never gave you orders, let alone in your own bar. however, if he was asking you to… you figured you should probably listen. you left the bar and went into the back. most of your employees had left for the night, so you helped the remaining ones clean up. it would be a few minutes or so before billy had come back into the kitchen to find you. you went back into the bar with him.

“i’ll be back before you close,” he spoke. “lock the doors.”

a second order. something he never did in the first place. something was wrong. you didn’t pry… you just scrunched your eyebrows in response.

“something’s up,” he spoke. he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before he turned to leave. “i’m takin’ care of it.”

there you stood, absolutely stunned. billy and his men left the bar with haste and didn’t look back. you, on the other hand, stood frozen… unable to leave the spot where you had billy the kid, known for his deadly skills, kiss you on the cheek.

you finally moved, reluctantly, but only to close up.

it would be close to an hour before billy finally came back. a few of his friends came with him, and they dragged in a man on their shoulder who was grunting in pain. blood was pouring from his leg, and you immediately went for the medical supplies you kept hidden under the counter. you grabbed two bottles of whiskey for good measure, arguably also a part of your makeshift kit.

“put him down on the table,” you gushed. his men were stunned to see you hustling, but they didn’t hesitate to rest their friend. you immediately took a look at the man’s leg, and were thankful to see that there would be no permanent damage. you shoved a bottle at jesse, and stated, “make him drink this.”

jesse had unscrewed the bottle and helped his friend drink before you fished out the bullet. thankfully no arteries were punctured, but it would be some time before he was good again. you cleaned up the man the best you could, and asked if any of the men needed anything.

“no, ma’am…” jesse responded. “we were going to bring him here and do it ourselves, your place was closest… so thank you.”

you smiled at him. “take the bottles. need it more than me.”

he tipped his hat to you.

“jesse,” billy began. “you and the boys head home.”

without question, jesse nodded. they helped their friend to his feet and left with a goodbye. even though they left, the unsettling feeling of the room hadn’t changed. billy seemed… different. heavier. he wasn’t the same man that had kissed you on the cheek before he had left.

you turned to him. “i won’t pry, but —“

“good,” he spat, turning to you. billy’s eyes bore into yours like you were one of the problem men at your bar. “don’t.”

a look of hurt flashed across your face. you could feel it. “you’re looking at me like i did something.”

“i told you to lock the door,” he spat again, his look of anger unwavering.

you had only seen billy's eyes that wide and that angry when there was someone being cruel to you. the thought made you shiver.

“how would you have gotten back in?” you asked.

“knocked,” he bit.

you narrowed your eyes at his curt response. “i had a feeling something was wrong. if i had waited to unlock, i couldn’t have gotten that bullet out as fast as i did.”

“doesn’t matter,” he bit. “how am i supposed to keep you safe if you won’t listen to me?”

you scrunched your brows together in confusion. “billy… whatever happened where you were, it wasn’t here. i could’ve gone to bed… but i stayed up. waiting for you.”

“and what if someone came in, huh? what then?” he hollered. “what would you have done then?! what would i have done if you had gotten hurt?”

you shook your head in disbelief. you couldn’t believe billy was speaking to you with such disdain. “with the way you’re talking to me, billy — sounds like you’re used to women who don’t pull knives on creepy men, hold broke bottles to their necks — or fish bullets out of legs when i don’t know why he was shot in the first place. you’re used to those kind of women, and have a problem with me? maybe you should go back to them.”

you immediately turned away from him, beginning to walk towards the bar. billy was hot on your heels when he reached out to grab your wrist and turned you around.

he grabbed both sides of your face and pressed his lips to yours.

you wanted to scream at him, throw fists at his chest, push him away — anything to let you know how he hurt you, how he wronged you... but you couldn't.

no. you couldn't.

you were so stunned you stood frozen in place as his lips moved against yours. you loosely held his wrists in your hands, and kissed him back.

“don’t want those girls, darlin’,” he spoke, breathless, in between kisses. “knew you were a real woman the first time i saw you. the kind that puts the fear of god into you, but looks at you with such a sweetness in her eyes that you can’t look away.”

“better believe it, bonney,” you spat, half joking. “you’ve seen how quick i am.”

“i know, darlin’, i know,” he whispered, kissing you once more. “i also know i was wrong to speak to you the way i did.”

“shut your damn mouth and kiss me,” you replied, pulling him closer to you.

“yes, ma’am,” he playfully responded, and you slapped his shoulder.

billy had backed you up against the wall and pressed his body towards yours. you stood on your toes to reach him, and even then he had to lean down a foot or two.

“billy…” you began, pulling away. “i’ve never… but if you wouldn’t think less of me, we could go upstairs. to my room.”

“i’d never think less of you,” he spoke, shaking off your comment. “but… what’d’ya mean, ‘never?’”

“i’ve never been with a man, billy,” you responded, suddenly embarrassed.

he was quiet for a moment, before stating, “you sure you want it to be with me?”

you nodded. “if… if you want to, that is.”

he didn’t respond to your statement, he just kissed you. he kissed you with every emotion you didn’t think he ever possessed — raw, hot, desperate emotion that held you close and tight to him. the heat and the intensity made your brain swim, but you could only care so much when billy the fucking kid wanted you.

he slipped an arm around your shoulders and then underneath your knees before he picked you up. you bit back a squeal before you threw your arms around his neck.

“light as a feather, sweetheart, don’t you worry,” he spoke.

“all that steak i been feeding you?” you joked.

“my belt can’t help it if my woman feeds me well,” he replied, almost at the top of the stairs.

“you’re a flirt,” you giggled.

you pointed him towards your room. once in, he laid you down on the bed and laid on top of you. his body was warm and sturdy over yours, and you couldn’t help but feel warm. his hips were pressed against yours, but you couldn’t feel him through your dress. you grew frustrated at the thought.

you made quick work to undue his shirt, and billy was quick to catch on. he pulled away to take off his shirt, and you tried to take off your corset with his help.

“damn death trap,” he spat, fussing.

you giggled. he was cute when he was flustered, but nothing compared to the way he was looking hungrily down at you. you were completely bare before him, and you should’ve been embarrassed… but shame wasn’t present in this moment. the only thing you registered was how billy looked down at you — with adoration in his eyes as they raked down your naked form.

“will you…” you began. “will you show me… how to please… you?”

“another time, sweetheart,” he spoke, stealing a quick kiss from you. “i need my head between those legs of yours.”

“you-you don’t have to —“ you spoke. “i know that’s not something — that boys —“

“yeah — boys.” billy snapped, glaring at you. “real men want to taste their women.”

that shut you right up.

billy wedged himself in between your thighs and spread your folds. it caused a sharp intake of breath on your part, but you didn’t realize what you were in for. billy flattened his tongue, and licked a long stripe up your slit. your teeth sank into your lip at the foreign feeling that cause so much warmth to make your veins twitch.

…but when billy’s nose had nudged a specific spot at the top of your slit — your legs jerked.

“what — what —“ you stammered.

“shh,” billy cooed, slightly laughing. “i forgot how sensitive you were. my apologies, sweetheart.”

you trusted billy, sure, but you had never felt anything like that before in your life. the jerking motion of your legs was involuntary and made you fearful. billy could see the fear written on your face.

“that spot that i touched, that you felt?” he asked.

his eyes were so wide and meaningful you felt like you could melt in them. you brought yourself up to your elbows and hummed in acknowledgement.

“that is the most sensitive part of a woman, and if i play it just right —“ ever so lightly, you felt his middle finger and ring finger touch the spot. you shivered at the feeling, but you didn’t flinch like last time. you held his gaze as the warmth began to spread inside you. “i can make you feel better than you’ve ever felt.”

billy bent over your body and held himself up with extended arm planted firmly by your side. he swiped the two fingers over his tongue to lubricate them, and brought them right back to where they were. you both watched his fingers play at the most sensitive part of you, and your lip began to quiver.

“look at me, sweetheart.”

your eyes glanced back up to him.

like you thought before, if angry looks could kill… anyone would die by just a look from billy the kid. however, what would they say about the way he’s looking at you now? with his plump lips parted, and his eyes wild and hungry? you didn't know... but you knew you would find out.

“y’trust me?” he asked.

you hummed in agreement, nodding.

“say it.”

you sharply inhaled, caught off guard by his order. “yes, billy — i trust you.”

instead of leaning back down to plunge his face in between your thighs, he kissed you. his lips connected with yours in one of the most dominating ways you ever thought a man could. with his hand playing between your thighs, he swallowed every moan and cry you struggled to keep hidden inside of you. billy was breathing hard against you — relishing in how it felt to have you so vulnerable and close to him.

that was when his fingers picked up speed.

and, god… did it feel damn good.

“b-billy,” you whimpered. “feels…”

“still trust me?”

“yes,” you cried, screwing your eyes shut. “yes, it’s just…”

he leaned his head down so his mouth was right by your ear. his breaths were hot against your ear, and you hummed at the feeling. your hand played with the curls at the nape of his neck, tugging at the roots.

“fuck — you takin’ what i’m givin’ to you, darlin’,” he rasped, then continued, “drives me insane.”

you could barely hear what he was saying, nor could you respond. your head was swimming with the weight of billy so close to your naked body, holding you down and safe, with those skilled fingers of his working you like you were a damn trigger. you were a whimpering, crying mess — and billy loved every second of it.

“something — feels —“

“d’ya want me to stop?” he asked, breathless.

“no,” you whimpered, confused how the warmth inside you felt like it was going, going, going. you didn’t know where it started, where it was going, and definitely didn’t know where it ended. you were worried that you were going to explode — but you didn’t understand. “something feels — like i’m — i’m going —“

“let it happen, sweetheart.” his kisses were wet and sloppy along the skin of your throat. he nipped at the skin, and that only sent you into more of a frenzy. “that’s right, darlin’. that’s it. trust me. i’ve got you.”

and that was it.

the thing — billy’s words, that sent you toppling over whatever metaphorical edge you could think of to describe it. it felt like white, hot sparks went off behind your closed eyelids and were going off on every nerve ending in your body. whimpers left your bitten lips like you were a babe, and your back arched off the bed. distantly, you could hear billy cooing with excitement, laughter… and praise.

a light sheen of sweat was on both of you, and billy had never looked better. his musk was wafting through the air and had completely taken over your senses. you felt like the only thing in the room was billy and the only thing in the world that mattered was billy. men got drunk off whiskey, but you? you got drunk off of that pure, unfiltered scent and look of a masculine man who showed you how to experience the pleasure of a woman you had never known.

“fuck…” you whimpered as you came down from your high. you tried pushing billy’s hand away, but you were so weak you didn’t think you could.

“sorry, darlin’,” he laughed, kissing your throat again. “got selfish. wanted to keep seeing that pretty look on your face.”

it was difficult for you to find words, let alone enough for an adequate response. “billy… that… that felt…”

“i’m gonna be trouble for you now.” he stole a kiss. “nothing better than seeing you below me, like that…”

“i want you to feel good, too,” you began. “please, billy? i wanna see you, too.”

his lips formed a tight line. “i don’t want it to hurt you.”

“first time doesn’t always hurt,” you spoke. “no one says the second time hurts.”

he smiled at that, and began to roll on top of you. you stopped him, and gestured for him to sit up against the headboard. he was hesitant at first, but he did it anyway. you hovered your hips above his before licking one of your palms and gliding it over the tip of his length. you stroked him a few times, and a soft moan left his lips at the feeling.

“i can keep going,” you spoke, throwing a sultry look up at him. “i want to make you feel good.”

“no, doll,” he rasped. “too selfish. need to see that pretty face of yours do what it does again.”

you pouted for a short moment before you lifted your hips above his length and began to sink down. you could feel a slick leaking from your folds, which made you feel better about actually getting him inside you.

“go slow,” he ordered suddenly. “you stop if it hurts, got it?”

you nodded, half ignoring him.

but it didn’t hurt.

the first inch didn’t hurt. the second didn’t. the third, the fourth, the fifth, sixth, — you lost count. billy was so big and filled you so nicely that you were so greedy with how you sank down into him. you couldn’t have cared less about what he said before about going slow — all you needed was to feel all of him completely.

“you didn’t listen —“ he grunted, slightly mad. “you’re so lucky you feel good, fuck — you’re so tight —“

“so what if i didn’t listen, mr. bonney?” you smiled coyly at him, a sudden bout of confidence coming over you. maybe it was the post orgasm glow, maybe it was the new feeling of having the most perfect man inside of you — you weren’t sure. “you feel — so good.”

“don’t get bold on me, sweetheart,” he smirked.

you didn’t listen. you picked up your pace, rocking your hips back and forth to what felt good inside of you.

billy’s cock liked that, sure — but he didn’t. you could see the mental turmoil on his face as his neglected cock was finally getting the attention it deserved, but his hothead person didn’t like that his girl was getting smart on him.

that was when billy flipped you over onto your back, much to your dismay. you liked putting on a show for him and doing all the work for a change.

“you wanna act like that, darlin’, huh?” he asked in your ear with a raspy, lust filled voice. “not gonna listen to me?”

“it just felt so good, billy, please —“ you were whining at this point, pissed he had taken away that feeling.

“oh, you’re a greedy thing, that right?” he taunted. “gets one fuckin’ taste, and now she can’t get enough?”

you shook your head, desperate for something — anything. “so greedy, baby. please, billy — please just fuck me.”

his hips snapped against you. hard.

maybe it should’ve hurt — but fucking christ, it didn’t. it felt so good to have his strong, forceful hips thrust against yours and hit that spot so deep inside of you.

“you like that?” he asked, taunting you. “that’s what my greedy girl wanted? — needed?”

his hips were relentlessly snapping against yours now as he hovered above you by holding himself up on his elbows. the sight of his broad and strong chest and shoulders… enough to make any woman weak. a firm crease was in his brow, signaling he was struggling to keep up his mean persona.

“yes — yes —“ you cried. “billy, you’re so deep — it feels — fuck, you can’t stop billy. please —“

“sweetest fuckin’ pussy,” he grunted. “squeezing me so tight.”

“right there — that’s the spot, baby,” you bit your lip to keep your voice down.

billy leaned his forehead against yours, and his exhales fanned against your face. little moans were escaping his lips as well, but nothing like yours. instead, he spat, “couldn’t let me be nice to you and fuck you sweet, huh? had to get smart on me?”

you could barely hear him. billy’s usual raspy, and commanding voice was enough to make anyone stand at attention — but now? now you were some cockdrunk whore who didn’t care how she got what she wanted, only that she did. his thrust were hard and fast, hitting a deep spot in you that was making that warmth swell up in you again.

“didn’t want sweet, billy,” you whimpered. “wanted you to use me just like this.”

you weren’t sure what came over you — and billy wasn’t sure either. his thrusts didn’t falter, but he couldn’t understand how the pretty, innocent looking bartender could be so fucking naughty — but only for him. a sense of pride had never welled up inside him like that before, knowing that he was the only one who got to see the prettiest girl in town keen for someone’s touch like this.

his touch. only his touch.

“gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he spat against your ear. “should’ve known you’d be such a good girl for me — taking my cock like this. can you cum around my cock like this? gonna be the best girl — and show me how that pussy tightens around me?”

the curse words billy drew from you were not your sunday best, but they made billy’s guttural groans against your throat and ear that much more enticing. you were both covered in sweat, spit, and slick — and nothing had ever felt better. you were close, so close — and all you wanted was to see him finish so you could see it for yourself.

“billy, i’m so close —“ you cried. “but i wanna —i wanna see you —“

“shhh,” he cooed. “gonna take what i give you, sweet girl.”

he sent a hand in between your bodies, and started playing with that spot that had made you explode the last time. you almost protested, but there was nothing like having a man buried so deep inside you do whatever he could to make sure you felt the best you could. you whined, you cried, you screamed, fuck — you did everything to let him know that you were close, billy, i’m so close, please, i’m begging, please don’t stop, and billy refused to look away from your beautiful face as you came undone below him once more.

with your beautiful hair fanned out around you, billy thought you looked ethereal as your second orgasm overtook you. there was something about the way your eyes fluttered softly closed, but broken gasps left your lips like you were so far gone in pleasure that you were lost in it. here, beneath him, before him, was a woman he had spent so much time protecting, so worried about her safety… all he wanted to do was make her feel good. when your limbs began to quiver, knowing you were so deep in your orgasm that you were at the peak, billy couldn’t help himself. he knew you were sensitive, he knew how it would be too much, he knew he shouldn't — but he had to. he was so, so selfish with his greedy girl.

his fingers kept spinning circles on your pink rosebud, and it was like the white light behind your eyes couldn’t stop. you were gasping for air — begging, pleading, hoping, wishing. it was so much. it was too much. it was everything and anything all at once, and you didn’t realize how far you were falling until tears leaked from your eyes.

he should've hated himself for making you feel so lost, but he didn't. not one bit.

“billy —“ you cried, shaking. “i’m so — so sensitive —“

he engulfed you into a long kiss, smiling smugly against your lips. you would’ve laughed with him, but you were so weak. so, so weak. he knew how sensitive you were, and stopped his movements completely. you didn’t realize he hadn’t finished with you until he began to pull out of you.

“billy — you didn’t —“

“s’alright, darlin’—“

“no, it’s not,” you said firmly. “teach me how to do — that thing.”

“that... thing?”

“with my mouth.”

he hesitated before shaking his head. “i don’t… tonight was a lot — for you.”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “boys don’t taste their women, right? men do?”

he scrunched his eyebrows together, confused, but nodded anyway.

“and what about real women, billy?” you asked. “you think they like leaving their men unsatisfied?”

his lips parted at a loss. he couldn’t argue with that, could he?

“sit on the edge of the bed,” you spoke, sliding out from under him and finding a place on the floor.

he hesitated, but he didn’t argue with that, either.

you tried to hide your smirk from him.

he'd never tell you he saw it. he also would never tell you he loved it.

"you gonna tell me what to do, or what, cowboy?" you smirked up at him, taunting.

he shook his head, and pursed his lips in a way that he knew you were in over your head. "you're acting bold. let's see if you got a reason to."

you narrowed your eyes at him, but smiled anyway.

you returned your attention to the muscle you were holding in yours hands. it was long and thick — you weren't sure how it fit inside you before, and you definitely weren't sure how you were going to fit it in your mouth.

"too much for you, darlin'?" he quipped.

you shot him a look. "wasn't too much a minute ago, was it?"

you didn't let him respond. you licked the palm of your hand — throwing manners to the wind — and wrapped your hand around the tip and the top of the shaft. you made circular, stroking motions at the top and licked a stripe, like he did to you, up his shaft.

that shut him up.

a long and drawn out fuuuck had left his lips.

you shouldn't've — you knew you shouldn't've.

but you did anyway.

you started to kitten lick at his balls, and you could feel him shift from above you. hot and heavy groans were leaving his lips, to the point where he was incoherent. now that you had found his sweet spot, you'd never let go. just like he didn't.

"fuck, you are naughty," he rasped, voice dry and cracked. "my naughty girl. so good f'me."

you hummed as you wrapped your lips around the skin of his balls. they were warm and salty, and you relished in the taste. billy placed a heavy palm on the back of your head. you realized then and there he was foreign to giving up control — usually you'd give in, but not now. not when he was teasing you before.

you replaced your hand with your lips, and brought him down as far as you could.

from the corner of your eye, you spotted him beginning to fist the sheets.

tears were springing to your eyes, but you didn't care. you wanted to — had to keep going. you wanted this so badly — to take care of him. you needed this, and if he wanted it, too — he was going to give it to you.

you began to bob your head up and down, taking care to mind your gag reflex and teeth. the slurping sounds from your mouth were obscene — as was the drool falling from your lips, down your cheek, and along the skin of your raw neck.

both of billy's hands were on the back of your head now, giving you slightest — almost ghost like — push down. you welcomed it, hoping to show him you could take him far, farther than he thought you could handle.

above, he was going crazy. fucking nuts. his entire body was hot and on fire, and it took every ounce of him to not drag you back up into his lap and impale you on his cock. however... his muscles were tired, and his sweet girl looked so perfect on her knees before him, and who was he to deny her what she wanted so badly — what she earned?

he'd never tell you — but he wanted you to have it more than you wanted it yourself. he wanted you to know that he only felt comfortable enough with you to be in such a vulnerable position like this — pretty woman, teeth so close to his jewels. he wanted you to know that you were setting every nerve, vein, blood vessel on absolute fucking fire with the way your silky tongue slid down the length of his shaft, and the way your tight, warm throat enclosed around his sensitive cock... he wanted you to know how much he adored you, and how much he wanted to give you everything you had ever wanted.

"fuck, sweetheart —" he bit. "I'm so close — you better — pull off —"

"too much for you, cowboy?" she only pulled off for a second, before she put him into the deepest parts of her throat.

the way you teased him set a raw set of anger and adoration through this veins, and he didn't know what to do with it. he was so weak, tired, spent, and fucking horny — he couldn't move, think, or fight back. all he wanted was to cum down this sweet girl's throat and make her his.

"that's it, baby, fuck —" he spat through gritted teeth, the hands on the back of your head encouraging your movements. "right there, right there — fuck."

you held your place, keeping a few inches of him in your mouth. his thick cock throbbed a few times before ropes of white decorated the walls of your throat, and you swallowed every last drop. you pumped him a few more times, for good measure — and also to get back at him for earlier.

"don't be mean to me, baby —" he whined. "come up and lay with me."

you giggled, crawling up the bed to lay next to him.

"gonna tell me how that was?" you asked. "or too proud?"

he chuckled then. his post orgasm glow was so beautiful... for the first time, william h. bonney didn't have a permanent from embedded in his brow. he looked so... peaceful.

"not too proud to admit that was the best I've ever had in my life," he laughed, letting his eyes close. you trailed a hand up and down the soft skin of his chest and stomach before curling up next to him. "going to be proud after i take you to the courthouse tomorrow and make you my wife."

you scoffed at that. "i didn't think cowboys were the settling down type."

"they're not — but i'm no cowboy, sweetheart," he rasped, turning to look at you. "you're it for me — if you'll have me, that is."

you smiled then. a real smile. the type of smile that gave billy hope.

"on one condition," you spoke.

his eyebrows furrowed, but he nodded his head anyway.

"you'll ask me for real in the morning, mr. bonney."

"i'll give you anything you want, mrs. bonney — as long as you're mine."

---

what did we think?? xox

-L

[strwberri-milk]

Hi, good morning/ afternoon/ evening. I've probably read all of your work on LnD, and I love them all. If it's not too much, can I request like the boys getting a call/update from MC after a disastrous wanderer attack on the city after not being able to contact them?? If possible, established relationship😅 ... thank you for your time!

im glad you like all my writing for them!! im so aefjaweofaw please give me the next main story update - also theres lots of references/imagery of death so if youre not chill w that i will see you tomorrow [salute] - theres also some very very slight references to their myths!! it feels a little ooc to me but thats bc. i think theyd be a little ooc when faced w a tragedy like this!! i hope you like it anyway <3

Zayne holds his breath every time a new patient is admitted. The hospital is busy with all of the patients that are coming in with the disaster, a mixture of those hanging on and people running up to him because he's the closest doctor in the vicinity to confirm death.

He volunteered himself to do triage because he was convinced that he'd be able to stop you from dying, that if you came in through those doors he'd be able to separate his love for you from the mind that studied all those nights but that's impossible - he only got here because of you.

His mind runs circles around himself, almost separated from his body as he tries to figure out why you weren't there. Hopefully it's because you're fine - you don't need medical attention or the medics on site were enough for you. However, he knows there's an equal chance that it's just because a doctor onsite was able to confirm your death and now you were in some bag, stored away with the others waiting for him to come identify you.

When he finally gets a moment to himself he obsessively checks his phone, praying to something that might take enough pity on him to listen at the very least that you'll call him. Minutes turn to hours as he's called back to work. Silence is a commodity now as he's stuck in the theatre, only able to go home after he's exceeded the legal amount of hours he's allowed to work in one night.

The long turned cold water hits his muscles as his mind wanders in the quiet of his home. You still haven't called - nobody's called. He understands that surely, all of you are busy but he's been there when the calls have had to be made. To hear the sobs on the other side of the phone as a squad captain confirms the death of another hunter as they softly ask if they'd like to see the body. He's also seen the calls when the bodies are far too mangled, a sight that no loved one should have to bear. He's waiting for it, almost falling in his haste to grab his phone once it finally rings.

Your number pops up, the letters of your name taunting him as he tries to answer it. He's about ready to throw his phone on the ground from the water on his hand refusing to make picking up the call an easy feat.

"Hello?" Zayne asks, an uncharacteristic shake in his voice.

"Zayne! I'm okay!" you say, voice sounding a little weak but definitely better than he could have ever anticipated.

"Zayne? Honey? Hello?" you ask when you're met with only silence, now beginning to grow anxious yourself. You knew he must have been busy - you were too - and you thought he was safe. He should have been, you'd heard no reports of the hospital being attacked.

"You're alive," he chokes out, falling to his knees.

"Of course I am! Things have just been chaotic so I haven't had enough time to call you until now," you explain, continuing to talk to him.

You hear rustling on the other side of the phone, trying to get his attention again before he cuts you off.

"Where are you right now? Home?"

"Oh - yeah I'm on leave now. Most of us who were in active duty are to let his recuperate. How come?"

"I'll be there soon."

He hangs up immediately, leaving you a little stunned. You decide to clean up a little, having nothing else to do really until he comes over. Zayne never acts this impulsively so you assume that the day with no contact really wore on him.

Once he arrives you open the door for him, planning to apologise for the lack of contact when he almost throws himself at you. You hold him back just as tightly, a little shaken yourself as you close the door after him. You realise that for whatever reason he's soaking, unsure if you should confront that but you decide to ignore it.

He leads you right to your couch, too exhausted to even find your bedroom as he buries himself against your chest. It's not the normal way he lays with you - typically he likes to hold you - but you know not to bother him now. You can't deny you were worried about him too, knowing he probably put in a bunch of overtime at the hospital.

He holds onto you tightly, measuring out the beat of your heart. It's the only way he can remind himself that you're still alive, that the two of you have one more day together.

Xavier has never felt like he wanted to die more than in this moment. One minute you were running with him, trying to stop the Wanderer from attacking the group of civilians the next you're totally gone. Logically, he knows you're most likely fighting a Wanderer by yourself and you can handle it but somewhere he's convinced you'll die without him at your side. You've proved yourself more than capable but he worries about you all the time - he knows how to fight these things, he's been fighting them for far longer than you have - and if you died here he'd have no more reason for living.

He practically goes beserk, tearing into each and every creature with the hopes that one of them can take him to you. With each failure he starts to spiral, standing atop a pile of rubble as he watches the recovery teams start to spread into the city. It practically took an entire squadron to force him to go home, promising him that he'd be the firs t to hear once they found you.

You were diligently following Xavier when you noticed another Wanderer going after a child. You knew that he'd panic once he couldn't find you but you couldn't just abandon them. You tried to tell him you'd be splitting off but over all the screams and screeches he couldn't hear you and you couldn't waste any more time trying to get his attention.

You were able to defeat the Wanderer but not before sustaining an injury that made it too difficult for you to continue active duty, taking the child to a safe spot and staying with them until help arrived. You ended up passing out from the pain shortly thereafter, waking up a day later to Tara in your face heaving a sigh of relief as she called for a doctor to come check on you.

Your body was simply fatigued and after an extra day of monitoring and ensuring you were receiving everything you needed to make sure you wouldn't collapse again when you get home. You nod, knowing what procedure is at this point. You reach out for your phone once the doctor leaves, knowing that Xavier must be worried out of his mind.

You're right, of course. He's laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling as he waits for someone to call him. He saw the scale of disaster this attack was, knows that everything is absolutely awful and he's not the only one waiting for news but every minute that passes is another minute you could be trapped, praying that he's coming there to save you.

He decides to ignore the strict orders he's gotten, suiting up to go help the recovery efforts. He was going bad staying in bed all day, unable to get a wink of sleep as pictures of your suffering flash across his tortured mind. Working on pulling valuables and any remnants of life is depressing on a good day but right now it's downright torturous. He can't help but think that the next thing he pulls out is going to be your hand, severed far from your body.

When his phone rings everything disappears. He quickly picks up, steeling his expression to avoid making things worse should someone look over at him. He doesn't even notice who called him, just hoping that it was someone with news.

"Oh! You picked up fast. Are you just sitting at home then?" you ask casually, so casually he thinks it's almost cruel. How could you act so nonchalant about the fact that you held his life in your hands, that you are the only thing in this world he can bear to wake up for?

"No, I'm helping the recovery efforts despite orders. I...it was too quiet at home," he offers as an explanation and you hum. He can imagine you nodding, tapping your chin as you think to yourself.

"If you missed me you could have just said so," you tease, hoping that the ease in your voice will make him relax.

"Of course I did. Is that even a question? Are you able to take visitors?' You know what, doesn't matter. I'll just wait there until you are. I'll see you soon love."

He hangs up quickly and you know that he'll appear in the hospital within the next two seconds with that uncanny ability of his. You straighten yourself out a little, knowing that you were injured but not wanting to look like a total mess.

You can hear his footsteps running up to your door, slamming it open as he catches his breath. You've never seen him out of breath before - maybe he's much more tired than you initially thought.

"You made it," you laugh, making a slight sound from the impact of him practically jumping at you, holding you tightly as he buries his face into your neck.

"I was worried about you," he says softly, looking up at you. "I thought you'd been hurt, badly. And I wasn't there to protect you."

You sigh, helping him sit down into the chair at your bedside. You offer him your hand which he holds gratefully, never taking his eyes off of you.

"I know. I'm sorry. But look, I'm okay now, aren't I?"

He ignores the pain in his chest, trying not to imagine how heavy your hand would feel in his if you really had drawn your last breath. That weight is far too familiar to him, haunting his every thought in the hours that passed between then and now.

"You are. And I'm going to make sure you stay that way," he promises.

Rafayel didn't even know there was an attack until far after it. He knew you were working and that sometimes, you'd accidentally go MIA. You'd already texted him before your mission anyway and then he got drawn into another project of his and completely lost track of time. It's not until the next day that he finally sees his phone and the message from Thomas telling him not to come into the city for supplies for a day or so.

He immediately starts looking through articles, scouring pages that are constantly updating the death toll in search of your face. He curses himself for not paying attention earlier - every minute he wasted on some stupid was another minute you could have spent at Death's door, all because he allowed himself to forget that nothing matters if it's not you.

It's obsessive the way he looks through all of them, calling your phone non stop all the while. Every time he gets sent to voicemail he feels his breath get knocked out of his lungs, resorting to blowing up your phone with texts. When it's clear you aren't replying he grabs his keys to drive into Linkon despite Thomas' suggestion, knuckles white on the steering wheel as he heads to the hospital.

Even in all the chaos people can't help but stare a little as Rafayel makes his way to the counter, demanding someone tell him where you were. He's really trying not to be a brat, promising you that he'd be nicer to people but when it's your life on the line everything is up for debate. He goes through any and every possibility, figuring out what he can do to guarantee your survival.

Unfortunately for him, he gets escorted out. Jenna tries to calm him down, telling him that he'd be the first to know if they had any updates on you. Right now everything was just far too messy to know anything about anyone and there was a good chance that you were just being treated at a different hospital than usual due to the high causality count. He doesn't take no for an answer and manages to strong arm the name of the other hospitals you could have been sent to, starting up his car again right as his phone lights up with your name.

"What do you think you're doing not answering your phone?!" he yells, making you flinch.

Rafayel's never been mad at you, certainly not to this extent but you know that it's because he's anxious. He immediately catches himself too and you hear it, catching the sound of his hands against his steering wheel as he takes a deep breath.

"I'm sorry. Just - where are you?" he asks, sounding so exhausted that you feel like crying.

"I'm okay Rafayel," you say instead, adding the name of your hospital. He's immediately driving over as you talk to him, keeping your voice even.

"I was split up from the group is all, then triaged at a different hospital. I'm fine though - I managed to just sprain my wrist from overexertion so I'll have a sling for a bit-"

"You're staying with me then. I'm not having you stay alone with a broken wrist. Knowing you you'd do something dumb and make it worse," he scoffs, trying his best to drive safely to see you again. You don't bother to correct him, knowing that's the least of your worries.

You fall quiet, not sure how to respond. Rafayel has always been good at masking how he feels, rarely showing you what he's hiding behind his mask. Now he's an open book, making it clear that nothing will be okay until he sees you again.

"Okay," you agree, leaning further back into the pillows of your hospital bed. "They wanted me to be released into the care of someone if I could anyway. That's why I was calling you - that, and trying to return all your missed calls."

"Thank you," he says so quietly you barely hear him over the sound of his car.

"Of course my love," you say just as softly. "I knew you'd worry as soon as you saw the news."

Another moment passes between the two of you. Rafayel thinks his heart fell out of his chest - or it would have if it was still his to hold. Instead, it's beating firmly in your palm, only able to do so under your affections.

"Rafayel, I'm really fine, I promise. I'm just hungry. Let's get something for dinner, yeah?" you offer, hoping to redirect his energy.

"Yeah," he replies, exhaling deeply.

"Anything you want my beloved. Just name it and it's yours."

[oceandolores]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 2

Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader

"𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘺 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦,"

summary: as time progressed, Joel notice something's wrong and then at one night, You stood at his door, looking disheveled and distressed, your face streaked with tears and your clothes rumpled. 

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, ped0ph!l1a, cann1bal!sm, human traff1ck1ng, r4p3, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

CHAPTER 2

masterlist of the series!

previous | chapter one

next | chapter three

Saturday arrived with a sense of dread you couldn’t shake. The dinner invitation at Tommy and Maria's hung over your head like a dark cloud. Joel had decided to come, partly due to Ellie and Tommy's insistence, and also because it was a chance to catch up with your family, the Gibsons.

The aftermath of last Sunday's beating from your father for abandoning your duty at church service had left you changed. The light in your eyes had dimmed, replaced by a quiet resilience. Your body was still sore, the bruises and scars not fully healed, making even the simplest movements painful.

You worried some of the wounds might be infected, as you had been running a high fever and coughing for days. Your mother was concerned but too scared to take you to the hospital. In this small town, everyone knew each other, and a trip to the doctor would raise questions. Your family's reputation, especially with your father being the town preacher, was paramount. So, your mother did her best to care for you at home, but it wasn't enough.

You still went to school, hiding your condition under oversized sweaters. You had no close friends, just a few acquaintances, but you were well-known as one of the prettiest girls and the preacher's daughter. Boys liked you, always trying to get close, but you kept your distance. One day at school, Ellie noticed you didn't look well and asked if you were sick. You lied, saying you were fine.

"You sure? You don't look so good," Ellie said, her eyes filled with concern.

"I'm fine, Ellie, really. Just tired from studying for finals," you replied, forcing a smile.

Ellie frowned, clearly unconvinced. "If you say so. Just... take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will," you promised, though you weren't sure if it was a promise you could keep.

As one of the smartest students, your teachers noticed your decline and sent you to the school's psychologist. The psychologist observed your physical and mental changes, but you lied again, blaming sleepless nights spent preparing for graduation.

As your family prepared to go to the Millers, you told your mother you might not be able to go because your body was still sore. The scars hadn't healed, and you worried about infection. You'd had a high fever for days.

"Mama, I don't think I can go tonight. My body still hurts so much," you said, your voice weak.

Your mother, worried but too afraid to confront your father, insisted you come. "You know your father will be angry if you don't come. It's better if you come, even if you're not feeling well," she said, her voice trembling.

Reluctantly, you agreed. For the first time in a while, you applied makeup to cover the bruises on your skin, arms, and the corners of your eyes and cheeks. Your father reminded you to behave, to maintain decorum as a preacher's daughter, and not to embarrass him.

"Remember, you represent this family. Behave yourself and don't cause any trouble," your father said sternly.

"Yes, Father," you replied, obedient as always, though the words felt heavy on your tongue. The weight of his expectations bore down on you, threatening to crush the fragile strength you had left.

At Tommy and Maria's house, Joel and Ellie were already there. Your family arrived at their front door, your mother's grip on the pasta dish tightening as if it were a lifeline.

Maria opened the door with a warm smile, her eyes lighting up at the sight of your family. "Oh, Evelyn! Father Gibson! It's so good to see you all. Come in, come in!"

Your mother returned the smile, albeit a bit strained. "Thank you, Maria. We brought some pasta for adding some to the dishes."

"Oh, Evelyn, this pasta looks amazing. Thank you so much," Maria said, taking the dish and placing a gentle hand on your mother's arm. "You didn't have to go through all this trouble."

"It's no trouble at all," your mother replied, her voice soft. "It's the least we could do."

Maria led you all inside, the house filled with the comforting aroma of home-cooked food. You stepped in and immediately met Ellie.

"Hey, how are you? You didn't look so good at school the other day," she said, her voice full of concern.

"I'm okay, just a bit under the weather," you lied, trying to sound convincing.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Ellie asked again, her eyes narrowing with worry. "You really didn't look well. Are you getting enough rest?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," you insisted, forcing a smile. "Just tired from all the studying for finals."

Ellie wasn't convinced but nodded. "Alright, but if you need anything, just let me know, okay? We can study together if that helps."

"Thank you, Ellie. I appreciate it," you said, grateful for her concern but knowing you had to keep your secrets hidden.

Maria, finishing her conversation with your mother, turned her attention to you. "Sweetheart, you look a bit pale. Are you feeling alright?"

In front of your parents, you forced another smile. "I'm fine, really. Just a bit tired," you said, your voice steady but hollow.

Your mother quickly added to the lie, her voice filled with false cheerfulness. "Oh, you know Maria. She's almost graduate and been working so hard on her studies. It's just stress, really, right honey?" You nodded to your mother.

Your father, ever the manipulator, chimed in with a practiced smile. "She's fine, just been studying hard for her finals. Nothing to worry about."

Maria looked unconvinced but didn't press further. It was just another sad reminder of the facade your family maintained, the preacher's household hiding its cracks beneath a veneer of perfection.

You moved further into the house, your father's charm offensive continuing as he greeted Tommy. "Tommy, good to see you! How's everything going?"

"Going well, Tony. Just keeping busy with the business and this little guy," Tommy said, gesturing to his newborn son, Luke.

"He's adorable," you said, managing a genuine smile as you looked at the baby. For a moment, the weight on your shoulders lightened.

"Thank you," Tommy said proudly. "He's a handful, but we're loving every minute."

As you continued to mingle, you felt Joel's eyes on you. He was helping Tommy with the food, but his concern was palpable. He approached you, his expression serious.

You smiled at Joel, remembering the last time you interacted with him by the lake. That memory was a rare bright spot amidst the pain your father had caused after it.

"Hey, Joel. Good to see you here," you said, wondering why he decided to come. You tried to lighten the mood, despite the pain radiating through your body with every movement. The fabric of your clothes rubbed against your skin, irritating the unhealed scars, but you did your best to endure it.

"Ellie and Tommy wouldn't take no for an answer," Joel replied, his tone a mix of annoyance and warmth.

You chuckled softly, though the motion sent a sharp pain through your ribs. "They can be pretty persuasive."

Joel's eyes softened slightly, but his concern remained. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," you lied, forcing a smile. "Just tired from all the studying. It's near my graduation, and I have to prepare for the finals."

Joel's eyes lingered on you, taking in the pallor of your skin and the dark circles under your eyes. "You look sick. Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

You hesitated, feeling the weight of his concern. Joel was a man of few words, often letting his actions speak for him. His gruff exterior hid a deeply protective nature, one that he rarely showed to anyone. "I'm okay, really. Just a bit run down," you replied, trying to sound convincing.

Joel frowned, clearly not convinced, but he decided to lighten the mood. "So, how's school going? When are the big finals?"

You forced a smile, trying to ease the tension. "Yeah, finals are coming up. Lots of studying and late nights."

Joel nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. "I remember those days. Ellie gives me a hard time about studying too. But she's a smart kid, just like you."

"Thanks, Joel," you said softly, appreciating his attempt to comfort you. You cracked a small joke, trying to lighten the mood. "I just hope I don't end up like a zombie by the end of it."

Joel chuckled, though his eyes remained serious. He noticed how you occasionally winced and shifted your weight, clearly in pain. "You sure everything's okay at home?" he asked gently.

"Everything's great," you lied, remembering your father's stern warning. "Just the usual stress of school and stuff."

Joel's concern deepened, but he didn't push further. But before Joel could probe further, your father suddenly joined the conversation, his presence commanding attention.

"Joel, good to see you," he said with a broad smile that didn't reach his eyes. "What are you two talking about?"

Joel straightened, his demeanor shifting. "Just catching up, Reverend."

Your father chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. "Joel, we’re at dinner. Call me Tony. We’re friends, remember?"

"Sure, Tony," Joel said, though the familiarity felt forced.

"How's the construction business going, Joel?" your father asked, his tone amiable.

"Busy as always," Joel replied, his eyes drifting back to you occasionally. "But it's good. Keeps me occupied."

Your father nodded, pretending to be interested. "That's great to hear. We should get together sometime, reminisce about the old days."

Joel's gaze met yours briefly, and you felt a flutter of something in your chest. "Yeah, that sounds good," he said, his voice lacking enthusiasm but polite nonetheless.

As they continued to talk, you couldn't help but steal glances at Joel, feeling a strange sense of longing. His concern was genuine, unlike the superficial care your father displayed. It made you yearn for something more, something real.

Joel's eyes met yours again, and for a moment, it felt like he could see everything you were hiding. His concern was like a warm blanket on a cold night, a small comfort in the midst of your storm. You smiled at him, a silent thank you for his kindness, and he returned the gesture with a slight nod.

"You remember the time we went fishing at the lake, Joel?" your father said, trying to sound nostalgic. "We caught that huge bass, and you almost fell in trying to reel it in."

Joel smiled, though it was a shadow of his usual warmth. "Yeah, I remember. Good times."

You watched the exchange, feeling a pang of longing. Joel's presence was a reminder of what you were missing – genuine care and concern, something your father could never provide.

As dinner progressed, everyone was making conversations and catching up. You remained silent, but to avoid suspicion, you occasionally joined in, talking to Ellie and responding when someone addressed you. Joel observed quietly, speaking only when necessary or when someone engaged him directly. His occasional glances toward you felt like anchors, ensuring you didn’t drift too far into the depths of your own discomfort.

When it was time to sit down for the meal, you ended up seated across from Joel. Your father, ever the sociable one, continued to dominate the conversation, regaling everyone with stories and jokes. You picked at your food, the pain in your body making it hard to eat.

Joel noticed your discomfort, his eyes filled with quiet concern. He whispered after you shifted uncomfortably for the umpteenth time, "You sure you're okay?" this time in a whisper so your father wouldn’t hear.

You forced another smile. "I'm fine, Joel. Just tired."

He didn't look convinced, but he let it go, respecting your space. His presence, though, was a constant reminder that someone cared, even if you couldn't fully accept it.

The conversation flowed around you, snippets of dialogue filling the air.

"So, Ellie," your mother said, smiling warmly, "how's school treating you?"

"It's good, Mrs. Gibson. A lot of work, but I'm managing," Ellie replied, glancing at you with a reassuring smile.

Your father, ever the charming host, turned to Tommy. "And how's the construction business? Keeping you busy, I hope?"

Tommy laughed. "Busy doesn't even begin to cover it. We're swamped, but that's a good problem to have."

Joel's eyes flicked back to you as you winced slightly, shifting in your seat. He could see the struggle in your movements, the way you tried to hide your pain. His gaze softened, but he remained silent, respecting your space.

Tommy, clearly enjoying the topic, continued with enthusiasm. "We’re working on this big project downtown. It’s a major redevelopment of an old warehouse into luxury apartments. It's been a challenge, but it’s rewarding. We’re talking high-end finishes, state-of-the-art amenities. It’s a bit of a tightrope walk between maintaining the budget and meeting the client’s vision."

Your father, clearly interested, responded with a knowing nod. "Sounds like a big undertaking. How’s the team handling the pressure?"

Tommy grinned. "We’ve got a solid crew, but it’s been intense. Lots of late nights and early mornings. Joel’s seen the stress firsthand. He’s been around to lend a hand whenever things get tight."

Tommy’s gaze turned to Joel, as if inviting him to elaborate. "Right, Joel? You’ve had your fair share of those late nights, haven’t you?"

Joel nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, late nights and long days. It’s all part of the job. We keep pushing through because, in the end, it’s worth it."

Your father leaned in, his curiosity piqued. "You’ve been in the business a long time, Joel. What’s been the biggest challenge for you lately?"

Joel paused for a moment, thinking. "The biggest challenge is always adapting to new demands. Clients want more, and sometimes it feels like we’re racing against the clock. But we get it done."

Tommy, sensing an opportunity to keep the conversation lively, added, "Joel’s been great about handling the unexpected. I remember one time we had a major issue with a contractor, and Joel stepped in and saved the day."

Joel’s expression remained neutral, but there was a glimmer of appreciation in his eyes for Tommy’s support. "Just doing what needs to be done," he said.

Your mother’s voice was bright and enthusiastic as she shifted the topic. "Tommy, Maria, how’s little Luke doing? I can't believe how quickly he's growing."

Maria’s face lit up with pride. "He’s amazing. It’s been an adjustment, but we’re loving every moment of it. He’s starting to smile more, and it's just the sweetest thing."

Your mother nodded approvingly, her smile wide. "Oh, that’s wonderful! It’s such a joy to watch them grow. We’ve always said that parenting is the most rewarding experience."

The words felt like a raw wound being picked at, each one a reminder of the dissonance between their image of perfect parenting and your own reality. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, feeling the sharp pangs of pain that only seemed to intensify with every sugary comment.

Your father, ever the performer, joined in with his own brand of parental wisdom. "Yes, it’s true. Parenting brings out the best in you. It's about guiding them, teaching them right from wrong, and showing them how to navigate the world."

Tommy, clearly enjoying the turn of conversation, added, "Absolutely. We’ve had our challenges, but it’s worth it to see Luke grow and thrive. Every milestone is a victory."

Your mother leaned in with an air of authority. "And don’t forget the importance of structure and discipline. It’s all about finding that balance and being consistent. We always said that’s key to raising well-rounded children."

As the conversation continued, your parents spoke in glowing terms about their parenting philosophy, each statement reinforcing the image of perfection they projected. The more they spoke, the more you felt the weight of their insincerity.

The pain you were trying to suppress seemed to magnify with every word. You gripped your fork tighter, the effort making your knuckles white. You wanted to scream at the facade, the false sense of superiority they exuded while completely ignoring the reality of your struggles.

Joel’s eyes flicked back to you repeatedly, his concern growing more evident with each shift in your posture. He watched as you tried to mask your discomfort, his gaze softening as he saw the strain on your face.

Maria, ever perceptive, noticed the change in your demeanor as well. "Everything alright, sweetheart?" she asked gently, her voice filled with genuine concern.

You forced another smile, though it felt like a mask slipping off. "Just a bit tired, Maria. Nothing to worry about."

Maria didn’t press further but her gaze remained concerned. She glanced at Joel, who gave a subtle nod, acknowledging her unspoken question. Joel’s eyes continued to linger on you, the concern etched deeply into his expression.

As the conversation shifted to a more religious tone, your father, ever the preacher, began to elaborate on his views. His voice took on that familiar, reverent cadence. "Children are a gift from God," he said, his eyes sweeping over the table as if to bless it with his words. "They are entrusted to us to guide, nurture, and instill the values that will shape their futures. It's a sacred duty, one that brings us closer to our faith and to each other."

He continued, the fervor in his voice rising, "The Bible teaches us that we are stewards of these precious souls. Our responsibility is not just to provide for their physical needs, but to mold their character, teach them right from wrong, and guide them in the ways of the Lord."

The words, so full of sanctimonious zeal, felt like a punch to your gut. Each statement was a cruel reminder of the gap between his idealized view of parenting and the harsh reality of your own life. You could feel your discomfort intensify, a wave of nausea threatening to overwhelm you.

Joel’s gaze shifted between your father’s preachy sermon and your growing distress. His brow furrowed, sensing the tension in the room. He saw you clutching your stomach, your face growing pale. Maria’s concern mirrored his as she glanced at you, her eyes filled with empathy.

Feeling trapped, you struggled to maintain composure, but the discomfort was becoming unbearable. You gripped the edge of the table, your knuckles turning white. The facade of your father's perfect parenting began to feel like a cruel joke, and the more he spoke, the harder it became to stay seated.

Finally, unable to endure any more, you excused yourself. "Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom," you said, standing up quickly. Your voice was strained, but you tried to keep it steady.

Your father’s smile didn’t waver, but there was a coldness in his eyes that made you shiver. "Sit down, dear. It’s not polite to excuse yourself while others are speaking. We’re all here to enjoy each other’s company." The reprimand felt like a vise tightening around you.

You glanced around the table, feeling the pressure of everyone’s gaze. "I really need to go," you said, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to hold your ground.

Your father’s smile turned colder, and the sharpness in his tone cut through the tension. "If you must go," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as if warning you not to embarrass him further. "But do you know where the bathroom is? Don't want to bother Tommy and Maria, they are still eating,"

Before you or Tommy an Maria could respond, Joel’s voice cut in, low and steady. "I can show her where it is. I’m finished eating, so I can walk her there."

Your father’s eyes flicked to Joel, his expression softening slightly in a forced show of graciousness. "Thank you, Joel."

You nodded gratefully, feeling a small measure of relief as you met Joel’s concerned gaze. He stood up, his movements deliberate and calm. Maria was occupied with Evelyn, and Ellie was still eating, leaving Joel as the most suitable candidate to help you.

Joel approached you quietly, his demeanor gentle as he offered a reassuring smile. "Come on, I'll show you the way."

You nodded, standing up with a sense of cautious relief. As you walked toward the hallway with Joel, you could feel the weight of the conversation still hanging over you. Joel’s presence was a quiet comfort, his concern a stark contrast to the harshness of your father’s demeanor.

As you made your way down the hall, Joel glanced at you, his eyes filled with genuine worry. "You feeling okay, kid?"

You managed a small, appreciative smile. "I'm good, thanks, Joel."

He gave a reassuring nod as you approached the bathroom door. "I’ll be right here if you need anything. Just take your time."

As you stepped inside the bathroom, the coolness of the tile against your skin was a brief respite from the tension. You leaned against the sink, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. The solitude offered a momentary escape from the scrutiny and discomfort you’d felt at the table.

With trembling hands, you slowly opened your dress to check the scars, the ones that had been worsening over the past few days. The sight of them made your heart sink further. They were inflamed, bruised, and itching painfully. You traced the edges with your fingertips, and the pain was sharp and immediate. A stifled hiss escaped your lips as tears welled up in your eyes. The physical agony was overwhelming, but it was compounded by the emotional turmoil of the evening.

You tried to steady your breathing, but the pain made it difficult. Your fingers brushed the scars again, and a small, anguished cry escaped you. The pain was almost unbearable, and you felt the tears streaming down your face uncontrollably.

From outside the door, Joel’s voice cut through the quiet. "Kid, is everything alright in there?"

His voice, tinged with concern, snapped you back to reality. You quickly wiped your tears, trying to compose yourself. "I’m fine, Joel. Just... give me a minute."

There was a moment of silence before Joel spoke again, his voice gentle but firm. "If something’s wrong, you can tell me. I’m here to help."

You hesitated, the pain and fear making it hard to respond. "I... it’s just—it's nothing serious. I’ll be out in a second."

After a few deep breaths and a final check, you composed yourself as best as you could. You pulled your dress back into place, the physical discomfort still sharp but slightly more manageable. You wiped away the remaining tears, trying to regain your composure.

Opening the bathroom door, you found Joel still standing there, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of concern and patience. You offered him a shaky smile, hoping to convey that you were alright. "Thanks for waiting."

Joel’s gaze lingered on you, his concern deepening as he took in the faint tremble in your hands and the redness in your eyes. "You okay, kid?"

You nodded and smiled, trying to appear nonchalant. "Yeah, why wouldn't I?"

Joel didn't respond immediately, his eyes searching yours for the truth. “You sure? You look...like you're in pain."

Your smile faltered, and you looked down, unable to maintain the facade under his steady gaze. “It’s nothing,” you mumbled, trying to deflect. “Just...school stress."

Joel's eyes narrowed slightly, but he decided not to push further. "Alright, if you say so. Let’s get back to dinner.”

You both returned to the dining room, where the atmosphere had lightened considerably. The meal continued with lively conversation, the clinking of silverware, and the warm glow of shared company.

After dinner, your mom joined Maria in the kitchen to help with the dishes, their laughter and chatter floating through the house. Outside, your father, Tommy, and Joel settled on the backyard porch, their conversation punctuated by the occasional sound of a beer bottle opening or the murmur of crickets.

You found yourself in the living room with Ellie, who was scrolling through her phone while little Luke slept peacefully on the couch. You took a seat next to her, and she looked up, smiling.

"Hey," you said, leaning back into the cushions. "How's school been for you?"

Ellie shrugged, putting her phone down. "It's alright, I guess. Same old stuff. How about you? Finals must be tough, huh?"

"Yeah, they are," you admitted. "But it's almost over. Just a few more months, and then we're done."

Ellie grinned. "Bet you can't wait to get out of here."

You laughed softly. "Yeah, it's definitely time for a change. How about you? Any plans after high school?"

"Maybe college, if I can figure out what I want to do," Ellie replied. "So...Tell me, are there any boys at school you've got your eye on?" She tease giving you a smirk.

You blushed, shaking your head. "No, not really."

Ellie rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh, come on. Everyone knows you're like the most popular girl in school. The boys are all over you."

You sighed, feeling a mix of amusement and exasperation. "I can't say I'm like that and it's not quite like that. They're just...curious, I guess."

"Curious about what?" Ellie asked, raising an eyebrow.

You hesitated, then shrugged. "I don't know, it seems like they're curious about me."

Ellie then brought up what she saw a week ago. "So...don't want to be nosy, but I saw you with Jamie the other day. Is he the one?" She gave you a smirk, clearly enjoying teasing you.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. "No, he's just a friend."

"Come on, you can tell me," Ellie insisted, nudging you playfully.

You blushed and tried to deflect, but Ellie wasn't letting up. "Stop, Ellie. It was nothing."

Ellie grinned, leaning in closer. "Okay, but don't tell anyone. Jamie's been trying to get close to me. It's been going on for two months now. We’ve gone out a few times. He’s kissed me, but it hasn’t gone beyond that."

Ellie raised an eyebrow, looking more serious. ���And he’s asking for more, isn’t he?”

You nodded, feeling a knot of confusion and frustration in your chest. “Yeah. He keeps bringing up sex, but I’ve told him I’m not ready. He said he’d wait, but he keeps asking. I don’t know what to do.”

Ellie leaned back, her expression thoughtful. “Jamie’s the captain of the football team, right? Popular, blonde, not too smart?”

“Yeah, that’s him,” you confirmed, sighing. “He’s nice, but this pressure... I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

Ellie nodded understandingly. “You shouldn’t feel pressured to do anything you’re not ready for. If Jamie really cares about you, he’ll respect your boundaries. And if he doesn’t, then he’s not worth it.”

You sighed again, the weight of your father's teachings pressing down on you. "But... I’m afraid he’ll be disappointed if I don’t do what he wants. Jamie is nice and polite. His family has giving our church a lot...he also giving me a lot of nice stuff, like dress, necklace and all. My dad always said if someone’s nice to you, you should be nice back. And always obey men because they’re higher in status than women."

Ellie’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Who told you that?"

You shrugged, feeling a bit defensive. "My father."

Ellie shook her head, her expression turning serious. "That’s...kinda messed up. Just because someone’s nice doesn’t mean you owe them anything, especially not your body. And men aren’t superior to women. We’re all equal."

You bit your lip, considering her words. "But that’s how my daddy raised me, Ellie. He always says women should obey men."

Ellie leaned forward, her eyes filled with conviction. "Well, according on how Joel raise me. He taught me to stand up for myself and that I’m just as important as any man. It’s about respect, not obedience. You don’t owe Jamie anything just because he’s nice. If he can’t respect your boundaries, he’s not worth your time."

You felt a flicker of hope at her words. "I... I guess you’re right. It’s just hard to go against everything I’ve been taught."

Ellie reached out and squeezed your hand. "I know it’s hard, but you deserve to be with someone who respects you and your choices. Don’t let anyone, not even your father, make you feel less than you are."

When Ellie said that, it felt like a hit to the chest. "Don't let anyone, not even your father, make you feel less..." Her words echoed in your mind, resonating with a truth that was both comforting and terrifying. You wished you could believe it, wished you had the strength to stand up to your father. But the reality of your life loomed large and unyielding. Defiance meant danger. Defiance meant pain.

As Ellie's words replayed in your head, you felt a knot tightening in your stomach. You imagined standing up to your father, telling him that you were more than his expectations, more than his strict rules and harsh punishments. The thought made your heart race with a blend of hope and fear.

You glanced at Ellie, her eyes filled with a fierce, protective light. She believed in you, saw your worth even when you couldn't. It was a beacon in the darkness of your doubt, a small but vital spark of hope.

Yet, the idea of challenging your father felt insurmountable. His shadow stretched long over your life, dictating your every move, every thought. You had been molded by his will, taught to obey without question, to live in the confines of his rigid beliefs.

You had to pretend to be the perfect daughter, maintaining the facade that your father was the saintly preacher everyone believed him to be. The weight of this pretense was suffocating, but it was the only way you knew to survive.

Outside, the conversation between Tommy and your father continued, their voices a low hum against the backdrop of the evening. Joel, on the other hand, was mostly silent, nursing his beer as he leaned against the porch railing. His eyes flicked occasionally to the living room, where you and Ellie were talking.

Joel's expression was hard to read, but there was a tension in his jaw, a tightness in his grip on the beer bottle that hinted at his unease. He listened more to your conversation than to Tommy and your father's, though he tried to appear disinterested. Something about you drew him in, made him care more than he wanted to admit. He told himself it was none of his business, that he had no right to interfere in someone else’s family matters. But still, there was a nagging feeling in his gut, an instinct honed by years of protecting those he loved.

As Joel watched you, he saw the way your shoulders slumped slightly when you thought no one was looking, the way your eyes darted nervously to the doorway whenever a noise came from the kitchen. You were like a skittish animal, always on alert, always ready to flee or freeze. It reminded him too much of the broken children he'd seen in the aftermath of tragedy, children who had learned too young that the world was a dangerous place.

He took another sip of his beer, trying to push the thoughts away. He didn't need more complications in his life. He had enough to deal with, enough to protect. But damn it, there was something about you, something that called out to the part of him that had once been a father, that still is a father to Ellie. It was a part of him that couldn't ignore the signs of distress, the silent cries for help.

In the living room, Ellie continued to speak softly, her words a balm to your troubled heart. "You know," she said, squeezing your hand, "no matter what, you've got me. If you ever need to get away, to take a break, my door's always open."

You looked at her, the warmth in her eyes contrasting sharply with the cold dread that usually filled your days. "Thank you, Ellie," you whispered, your voice barely holding back the tears. "It means more than you know."

Joel caught that moment, saw the brief glimpse of vulnerability and the strength it took for you to accept Ellie’s offer of support. It stirred something deep within him, a protective instinct he hadn't felt in a long time.

He tried to shake it off, focusing back on the conversation outside. Tommy was laughing at something your father said, their voices blending into the background noise of the night. But even as he tried to tune them out, his mind kept drifting back to you. He didn't know what he could do, or if he should do anything at all.

As the evening wore on, Joel glanced back at you one last time, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to help, without overstepping the boundaries he was so careful to maintain.

***

The last few weeks had been a blur of routine and unspoken tension. Each day felt like a balancing act, with you trying to maintain the perfect image your father demanded while wrestling with your own growing doubts and fears. The only moments of relief came when you could steal a few minutes alone with Ellie, her unwavering support a lifeline in the storm.

One evening after school, you found yourself in your usual spot on the porch, the soft hum of cicadas filling the air. You hugged your knees to your chest, staring out at the darkening sky, your thoughts a tangled mess. You were wearing a nice white mini dress, modest yet elegant, with your hair braided into two sides and adorned with white ribbons.

You had managed to keep up appearances at church, attending every service, helping with every event, but the pressure was becoming unbearable. The weight of your father's expectations pressed down on you like a vise, and each day it grew tighter.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar truck parked in your driveway. You watched as a middle-aged man with a salt-and-pepper beard and black hair stepped out. He had a ruggedly handsome look about him, and as he saw you, a charming smile spread across his face. He stood there for a moment, then walked towards you with an air of confidence.

“Evenin’,” he said, his voice a smooth drawl. “Is this Father Gibson’s house?”

You nodded, standing up and smoothing your dress. “Yes, it is. Can I help you with something?”

He chuckled, the sound deep and rich. “Well, aren’t you a polite one? I’m lookin’ for the Reverend. Is he around?”

You nodded again, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. “He’s inside. I can get him for you.”

As you turned to go inside, he called after you, his voice teasing. “You know, you’ve got a real pretty smile. Brightens up the whole place.”

You felt your cheeks heat up and forced a polite smile. “Thank you, sir. I’ll be right back.”

Inside, you found your father in his study, poring over his notes for Sunday’s sermon. “Dad, there’s someone here to see you.”

Your father looked up, frowning slightly. “Who is it?”

“I don’t know his name, but he’s outside waiting,” you replied.

Your father nodded, rising from his chair and heading towards the door. You followed him, your curiosity piqued.

The man was waiting patiently on the porch, his hands in his pockets. As your father approached, he extended a hand with a broad smile. “Reverend Gibson, pleasure to meet you. I'm Naomi's cousin, I assume she already told you?"

Your father shook his hand, a wary look in his eyes. “Ah, yes. Nice to meet you, Mr. Smith."

The man leaned in slightly, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “I was hopin’ we could have a little chat. Got some things I’d like to discuss."

Your father glanced at you, then back at him. “Of course. Let’s step inside.”

As they moved inside, the man glanced back at you, giving you a wink. You watched them disappear into the house, a strange mix of apprehension and curiosity swirling inside you.

Not long after, you heard the rumble of Jamie's truck pulling up. Your heart lightened, and you smiled, walking towards the driveway with an eagerness that belied the tension you had been feeling all day. You hung by the fences, your fingers curling around the cool metal as Jamie got out of his truck.

"Hi, Jamie," you said, your voice bright with excitement.

Jamie grinned, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. "Hey sweetpie, how are ya doing? looking beautiful as ever,"

Jamie’s compliment made your cheeks flush, and you smiled shyly. “Thanks, Jamie. I’m doing alright. How about you?”

Jamie’s grin widened. “Can’t complain. I was thinking maybe we could catch that new movie tonight. What do you say?”

The thought of escaping the confines of home and spending a carefree evening with Jamie was a welcome distraction. “That sounds great. But I need to ask my dad first.”

Jamie nodded, settling back into the truck as you approached the front door. The door swung open, and you saw your father still deep in conversation with the man you didn’t know, whose gaze was fixed intently on you.

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the unnerving feeling that his eyes were tracing every inch of you.

You spoke to your father, trying to keep your tone as casual as possible. “Father, Jamie asked if I could go to the cinema with him tonight. Is it okay?”

Your father glanced at you briefly, then at the man, whose expression was inscrutable but decidedly interested. “Jamie Lee?” your father asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” you replied.

Your father’s eyes flickered with annoyance at being interrupted but softened as he looked at you. “It’s not ideal to leave while we have a guest here, but alright, you can go. Be back by eight.”

You thanked him and turned to leave, but as you did, you couldn’t help but notice how the man’s gaze lingered on you. His eyes, though polite, seemed to hold a predatory glint, scanning you with an intensity that made you shiver slightly.

You gave a nervous smile as you rejoined Jamie at the truck, who was looking at you with a hopeful expression. “Dad said it’s fine. Let’s go.”

Jamie’s face lit up, and he slid into the driver’s seat with an easy grin. As he started the engine, he turned on some country music, the tunes filling the truck and momentarily lifting your spirits. The drive was smooth, and you found yourself relaxing, your earlier worries momentarily forgotten.

After the movie, Jamie suggested a detour. “How about we grab a drink? There’s a little bar outside of town where we can chill for a bit. What do you say?”

You hesitated, not entirely sure about the idea but wanting to enjoy the evening. “I don’t know… I’m not really into drinking.”

Jamie reassured you with a charming smile. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fun. Just one drink, I promise.”

When you arrived at the bar, a dimly lit place with a cozy, rustic feel, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. Jamie led you inside, and you slid onto a barstool. Jamie ordered whiskey for himself and told you he’d get you something sweet.

The bartender handed you a glass, and you took a tentative sip, expecting a cherry cola. Instead, the liquid was warm and had a strong, unfamiliar bite. You grimaced, looking at Jamie with confusion. “This doesn’t taste like cherry cola. Are you sure this is what I ordered?”

Jamie leaned in, his voice low and soothing. “Nah, it’s whiskey, babe. I thought you might want to try something a bit more adventurous.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I can’t drink whiskey. I’ve never had it before, and my dad would be really angry if he found out.”

Jamie gave you a reassuring smile, placing a hand on your back. “Relax. It’s just a drink. No one’s gonna know. Besides, it’s just one drink. You’ll be fine.”

You hesitated, glancing around the bar. The atmosphere was relaxed, but you couldn’t shake the nervous feeling in your stomach. Jamie’s insistence and easy demeanor made it hard to say no. You took another small sip, trying to convince yourself it wasn’t a big deal.

Jamie’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he watched you. “Just have a little more. You might actually like it. It’s good for loosening up, you know?”

Reluctantly, you took another sip, feeling the warmth spread through you. The whiskey tasted harsh and made you cough slightly. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

Jamie laughed, a bit too loudly, but with a genuine affection in his voice. “Don’t worry about it. Just relax and have fun. We’re here to enjoy ourselves.”

Despite the alcohol, you felt an uneasy flutter in your stomach, the drink making you feel lightheaded. Jamie encouraged you to drink more, and you found yourself gradually giving in, the whiskey dulling the edges of your anxiety.

As the evening wore on, you felt the effects of the alcohol more clearly. Your thoughts became hazy, and the room seemed to spin slightly. Jamie’s presence became more comforting, and his laughter more infectious. He kept encouraging you to drink, telling you it was all in good fun.

The bar buzzed with life around you, but the world felt distant, the sounds muffled by the warmth and haze of whiskey. Jamie’s arm around your shoulders was a constant presence, a mix of comfort and tension that made your skin tingle.

As he helped you into the truck, his touch was firm, and you leaned against him, inhaling the potent blend of whiskey and his cologne. The city lights outside blurred, a streak of neon against the dark sky, but Jamie abruptly pulled over to a quiet, secluded road.

“Jamie, where are we going?” you asked, your voice trembling with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

Jamie’s gaze was intense, a smoldering look that seemed to pierce through the fog of your mind. “I just wanted to be alone with you,” he murmured, his voice low and slightly slurred. His fingers traced your jawline, his touch both tender and possessive.

The air in the truck was thick with anticipation, charged with an electric tension that you couldn’t ignore. Jamie leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “You’re so incredibly beautiful. I’ve been wanting you for so long.”

A shiver cascaded down your spine at his words, a confusing mix of desire and trepidation swirling within you. The whiskey had softened your inhibitions, making you feel exposed and vulnerable.

His words were like a seductive caress, stirring a deep, unsettling need. “Jamie, I can't,” you began to say, but his lips silenced you, capturing yours in a slow, deliberate kiss.

His lips were rough, demanding, and they moved with an intensity that set your senses alight. His hands roamed over your body, finding the buttons of your blouse with a hunger that made your heart race. he's messaging your boobs you slowly moan because it feels so good.

The kiss deepened, his tongue exploring your mouth with a passionate urgency. His hands were warm but rough, the contrast of his touch creating a mix of discomfort and electric thrill.

You felt a rising heat as he tugged at your blouse, the fabric yielding under his insistent fingers. “Just this once,” he murmured between kisses, his breath hot and ragged. “It’ll be everything you’ve ever wanted, I promise.”

A part of you wanted to resist, but the intoxicating mix of his touch and your own growing desire blurred your judgment. You felt a strange, almost reckless surrender, your boundaries melting away in the intensity of the moment.

"Stop, I-I can't," you said

"I promise, it will feel good, baby," he said

Jamie’s fingers moved with a deliberate skill, teasing and exploring your most sensitive spots. You gasped as his touch sent jolts of pleasure through your body, making your head swim with a mix of desire and confusion. The whiskey's lingering warmth mingled with the heat rising within you, clouding your ability to think clearly.

His other hand slid down your back, pulling you closer until you were almost on his lap. The friction between your bodies only intensified the sensations coursing through you. You could feel his arousal pressing against you, a hard, undeniable reminder of his desire.

“Jamie,” you breathed, your voice a mix of protest and longing. “I shouldn’t—”

But your words were cut off as his fingers found their mark, pressing and circling with just the right pressure. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of that delicious friction. A moan escaped your lips, unbidden and undeniable.

“Just let go,” he whispered, his voice husky with need. “I’ve got you.”

His mouth found yours again, the kiss deepening as he continued to work you with his fingers. Your body responded eagerly, every nerve ending on fire. You clung to him, your hands fisting in his shirt as you surrendered to the sensations overwhelming you.

With a deftness born of experience, he slipped your blouse off your shoulders, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck and across your collarbone. Your skin tingled where he touched, each kiss sending a wave of heat through you.

His hands moved to your breasts, kneading and teasing, his mouth following close behind. The contrast of his rough fingers and the softness of his lips was intoxicating, making you arch into his touch. You could feel the last vestiges of your resistance crumbling, your body aching.

“Jamie,” you whispered, your voice a mix of wanting for more but you are scared, “Please, stop…”

His eyes darkened and he wasted no time in shedding his own clothes. The sight of him, bare and ready, sent a fresh wave of heat through you. He reached for you, pulling you close until you were both lying back on the seat, your bodies entwined.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Jamie, please,” you begged, a note of panic creeping into your voice as his grip tightened and his movements became rougher. The initial pleasure was swiftly giving way to pain, each thrust sending shockwaves of discomfort through your body.

“Stop, Jamie, it hurts,” you pleaded, trying to push him away. But he was too strong, his body a heavy weight pinning you down. His eyes, glazed over with alcohol and desire, didn’t seem to register your distress. Instead, his anger flared, his thrusts becoming more forceful and unrelenting.

Tears streamed down your face as you cried out in pain, your voice breaking with each sob. “Please, stop! Jamie, please stop!” you screamed, your hands frantically pushing against his chest, but it was no use. He was lost to his own needs, driven by the alcohol coursing through his veins.

You felt a deep, pervasive sense of violation, your body and spirit shattering with each brutal movement. Desperation clawed at your insides as you prayed for an end to the torment. “God, please make him stop,” you whispered through your tears, your voice a broken, helpless plea.

But Jamie didn’t stop. His grip on you tightened, his fingers digging painfully into your skin. The pain was overwhelming, each thrust tearing through you, leaving you feeling dirty and used. Your cries for mercy fell on deaf ears, drowned out by the sound of his ragged breathing and the cruel rhythm of his assault.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly, every second an eternity of agony and despair. You felt yourself slipping into a numb, distant place, a coping mechanism to survive the relentless onslaught. Your body became a vessel of pain, your mind retreating to a place where the hurt couldn’t reach you.

Finally, with a shuddering groan, Jamie reached his climax, his body stilling as he released himself inside you. The moment he pulled out and rolled away, you curled into a ball, your body shaking with sobs. The physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional devastation, the sense of betrayal and violation that coursed through you.

Jamie lay beside you, panting and spent, seemingly oblivious to the trauma he had inflicted. His eyes slowly cleared as the effects of the alcohol began to wear off, but the damage was already done. You felt hollow, your trust shattered, your sense of self irreparably damaged.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," Jamie mumbled, his voice thick with regret as he reached out to touch you. You flinched violently, recoiling from his touch as if it burned.

"Get away from me!" you screamed, your voice raw with pain and anger. You felt so dirty, so violated, your mind reeling from the horror of what had just happened. You wanted to disappear, to vanish from the world and escape the unbearable weight of your trauma.

Jamie pulled back, his eyes wide with shock and guilt. "I didn't mean to... I was drunk... I—" His words were a pathetic jumble of excuses, falling on deaf ears.

"Just shut up," you spat, your voice trembling with rage. "Just shut up and take me back to town. I can't be here with you. I can't even look at you."

He nodded mutely, too ashamed to argue. As he started the truck, you pulled your clothes back on with shaking hands, each movement a reminder of the violation you'd endured. The drive back was silent, the air thick with a tension that neither of you dared to break.

When the truck finally came to a stop near the outskirts of town, you didn't wait for it to fully halt before you opened the door and stumbled out. "I can walk from here," you said coldly, not looking back. "I don't want to see you ever again."

Jamie opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. He simply nodded, the look of regret and sorrow etched on his face as you slammed the door shut and started walking away.

As you walked, each step felt like an eternity, your mind a whirlwind of pain and confusion. You couldn’t go home, not like this. The thought of facing your family in your current state was unbearable. Instead, you turned your steps towards Ellie’s house. She was the only one who would understand, the only one you could trust to hold you through this nightmare.

You stumbled up the porch steps, your vision blurred by tears, your makeup smeared and your hair a tangled mess. Your dress was wrinkled and torn, a stark reminder of what had happened. You knocked on the door, hugging yourself tightly in a futile attempt to keep warm, to feel safe.

When the door opened, it wasn’t Ellie who stood there. It was Joel. You looked up at him, your eyes wide and filled with tears, your breath hitching in your chest.

Joel's eyes widened in shock and concern as he took in your disheveled appearance. "What happened?" he asked urgently, his voice trembling with worry. "What’s going on? Are you hurt?" Ellie wasn’t home; she was staying at a friend's house for the night.

The sight of him brought a fresh wave of tears, and you couldn't hold back the sobs any longer. You collapsed to the ground, your body shaking with the force of your cries. The world around you blurred into an indistinguishable mess of pain and despair.

Joel was beside you in an instant, his strong arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. "Hey, hey, it's okay," he whispered, his voice breaking as he held you. "You're safe now. I've got you."

As he held you, his heart raced, a sense of urgency fueling his every movement. He noticed the blood seeping through your legs, and panic gripped him. There was a raw, protective anger in his eyes, one that he usually kept buried deep beneath his calm exterior.

You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his shirt. "Joel," you choked out, your voice barely more than a whisper. "He hurt me. He wouldn’t stop. I begged him, but he wouldn’t stop."

Joel’s body went rigid, his jaw clenching as he struggled to maintain his composure. "Who hurt you?" he demanded, his voice a mix of anger and sorrow.

"Jamie," you sobbed, the name tasting bitter on your tongue. "I told him to stop, but he wouldn't listen."

The silence that followed your confession was thick with tension. Joel’s face darkened, his eyes blazing with a fierce protectiveness that made you feel a flicker of safety amidst your despair. He took a deep breath, clearly fighting to keep his anger in check.

"Come on, let's get you inside," he said softly, helping you to your feet. His touch was gentle, but you could feel the barely restrained fury simmering beneath his calm exterior.

He led you into the living room, where the soft glow of the lamp cast a warm light on the room, a stark contrast to the cold emptiness you felt inside. Joel carefully sat you down on the couch. He needed to clean you up. The sight of your blood-soaked dress made his heart ache with a mix of sorrow and rage.

Joel disappeared for a moment, returning with a blanket and a cup of tea. He wrapped the blanket around your shoulders, his touch tender and reassuring, then handed you the tea.

"Here, drink this," he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "It’ll help."

You took the cup with trembling hands, the warmth seeping into your skin, offering a small measure of comfort. Joel sat beside you, his presence a solid anchor in the storm of your emotions.

"You don’t have to talk about it right now," he said quietly, his voice steady but filled with sorrow. "But I’m here to listen whenever you’re ready."

You looked at him, the tears still streaming down your face. "I feel so dirty," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I didn't want this. I didn’t want any of it."

Joel's face softened, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and fierce protectiveness. "You're not dirty," he said firmly, his voice filled with conviction. "Baby, it's not your fault."

The sincerity in his voice broke something loose inside you, and you sobbed harder, your body shaking with the force of your grief. Joel pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you cried. “We’ll get through this,” he promised, his voice a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions. For the first time in a while, Joel opened his heart, letting his walls down to show you his unwavering support.

He held you for what felt like hours, his embrace a cocoon of safety and warmth. The tears seemed endless, each one carrying a fragment of your shattered soul. But Joel remained steadfast, his presence a constant reassurance that you were not alone in your suffering.

As he held you, Joel's thoughts churned with a mix of emotions. He was a man of few words, accustomed to keeping his feelings locked away, buried deep beneath a hardened exterior. But seeing you like this, broken and vulnerable, stirred something dark and primal within him.

It reminded him of his own past, the pain and loss that had shaped him into the man he was today. The memories of Sarah, his daughter, flashed through his mind – the way he had failed to protect her, the helplessness and rage that had consumed him. He had vowed never to let himself feel that kind of pain again, to never let anyone get close enough to hurt him.

Yet here he was, holding you, feeling an overwhelming need to protect you, to shield you from the world’s cruelty. The thought of Jamie, the man who had done this to you, ignited a fierce, burning anger within him. Joel's grip tightened around you, his jaw clenching as he fought to keep his emotions in check.

He would make Jamie pay for what he had done. There was a darkness inside Joel, a ruthless side that he rarely let see the light of day. But for you, he would unleash it. He would ensure that Jamie never hurt you – or anyone else – again. The thought of revenge, of justice, gave him a grim sense of purpose, a way to channel the turmoil inside him.

Joel's mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. He was deeply troubled by the sight of you in such pain, and his protective instincts surged to the forefront. He knew he had to keep himself under control, to focus on helping you heal. But the thought of Jamie’s actions ignited a cold, calculated fury within him.

[pupp0ccino]

My Dust variant facts !

That no one asked for yay! ⟢

If I ever get to coloring these refs the current image will be replaced with the finished product.. also disclaimer, im aware these aren't canon , I just like having fun with characters and making my own versions of them

Dust

- he's a shapeshifter, having three forms. His normal form, Dustbunny, and Ghost. I hc him to have some form of identity/personality disorder (it's unspecified which one, that's up to y'all what you want him to have) so multiple forms with different personalities.

- his normal form, is simply just Dust. Hes the closest to looking like classic sans appearance wise compared to horror and killer.

- Dustbunny was mainly made as a kinsona, and for funzies, but Dust only morphs into this slightly smaller form as a defense mechanism, for he feels 'weak and pathetic' like prey. It's basically just him, but taking more on a bunny-like appearance and behavior. Like dust he's very closed off and quiet, but will rather flee than fight.

- Ghost is the complete opposite. Tall, sadistic and cruel with a sick smile plastered on his face. He comes in when Dust's getting a power trip, or needs to get big and protect himself. It kind of puts him in sort of a state of mania, where he has little sympathy for the people around him and how his actions affect others. He's a meanie, and loves to tease at people when ever he sees an opening

- Dust does not like to look in mirrors, or really have his hood off for long periods of time, nor being looked at. Makes him freak out

- he partakes in rabbit like behaviors, his nose twitches when his curious or irritated, he stomps his foot against the ground when he's upset, and he burrows. Accompanied by his tail being a rabbits tail !

- he's also a vampire, like nightmare, but instead of sucking the negativity out of souls, he just has cravings to bite and drink blood, has large sharp fangs, plus being a total night owl.

- he has really bad avoidant attachment when it comes to relationships, he's in fact fearful of gaining close bonds due to the fact he's lost people he's loved over and over and over and over again, before literally killing them off himself. So he purposely pushed himself away from people to not get too close.

- as in the picture above, he has markings speckled all across his face, it's also the same for his body down his arms and shoulders. He's kind of embarrassed about it, and hates it being pointed out

- he goes through psychosis, and psychotic episodes

- he's a stoner lolz (despite maryjane usage very much not being recommended to people who deal with psychosis...)

- his room is a depression room most of the time, he has a little mattress on the floor that looks like a nest

- he's a monster energy drinker because yes

- he's selectively mute, and has a very low social battery. He doesn't like crowded spaces and only has a select few people he talks to (killer, horror, fell)

- he has a hard time remembering to eat and will accidentally and sometimes purposely go days without eating. When he does eat, it's in very small portions, he doesn't like food like he used to.

- he doesn't like touch, don't touch him he will stab you

- Phantom, the papyrus voice in his head. What he says to dust is based on his state of mind. When he's in a normal state of mind, Phantom is a lot more like how papyrus usually acts , getting on Dust for little things like telling him to clean his room or that he has to take care of himself. The voice worsens as his state of mind worsens turning from silly banter to tormenting him about what he's done, and sometimes papyrus can also be like a Jiminy cricket to dust, a judge to his morals, and trying to set him on the right path. Dust hates this , and rarely ever listens.

- one of the things he does in his free time is play video games, he's your basic gamer boy. He likes to play cod mainly

- another hobby of his is that he likes to sew, and patch work his clothing and fabric items, along with making little plushies.

- bad sans poly bad sans poly toxic yaoi ..

That's it for now , I'll probably add more on later !!

Dust belongs to ask-dusttale

[soothinglee]

what would i do? (without someone like you) ──★ ˙🌱 ̟ ¡!

bangchan x ninth member! reader | 1.6k words✔︎

my notes⎯ i re-wrote this thing so many times i've lost count lol. i don't know if i'm satisfied with this because i couldn't convey the feeling as well as i wanted but i still like it! hope you enjoy! (also #bangchantakecareofyourself) warnings⎯ self neglect, reader taking care of bangchan. genre⎯ ninth member! au, angst, comfort, (heavily implied) self-neglect, platonic. songs⎯ what would i do?; strawberry guy

⎯catalog for skz✰ | ⎯ navigation✰ [requests are open]

"are you okay chan?"

the question lingers in the air for a hot second. it floats around until it hits the distracted ear of chan, who sits with his face resting on his chin, unmoving from his seat at the desk.

he blinks after a second, the fog slowly clearing from his eyes.

"huh?" his voice sounds distant as he resumes fiddling with the unfinished track.

you could tell that something was off in his demeanor. his postured was slouched, arms weak in their positions as he tries to fight off the sleep to continue working. you figured it had been a while since he had rest. you all were pre-paring for a comeback and with that comes a lot of work. new concepts, new looks, new songs. a high expectation bangchan finds himself fretting over due to the preconceived notions stays has on the upcoming album.

you've seen bangchan re-write a song 15 times because he thought stays wouldn't like one lyric. everyone, including you, has told him that he could only remove that one line, and keep the rest but he had the idea that everything has to flow together. which is why he's on take #16.

you give him a once over, your brows creasing. "i said are you okay?" he gives you a quick glance, his head bouncing as he goes back to his laptop, "how about you take a break?"

"can't."

a quiet sigh leaves your lips as you get up from the couch. the sky had darken as more time was spent in the studio, the only light source was the small table lamp in the far corner in the room. even then you could see just how much all of this was affecting him.

his eyes were sunken in, big purple-red like bruises encase them. he lifts up his hand to rub at the irritated skin. anyone could tell that he was exhausted.

your hands come up to rub out the kinks in his shoulders, "you're exhausted."

his body is defiant in letting him relax into your soothing touch, he hesitates for a second, letting the final moments of the massage sit in before he lightly shakes you off. "no time for sleep. i took a nap earlier, and i had a cup of coffee." he goes back to the track he was clipping.

an eyebrow raise, "how much earlier?"

this time he sighs and drops both hands. "y/n..."

"i'm just looking out for you. as the leader you have to take care of yourself, because if you aren't, then how do you expect to take care of us?" you know the question hits hard when you feel his body freeze underneath your hands. you stare at the back of his head, in the corner of your eye you see his shadow move a fraction and then his head drops. "you know that you don't have to be so hard on yourself," you take a moment to gauge his reaction, then a soft, "right?"

he releases a shaky breath, muttering.

you let your hands find the base of his neck, letting them go down to follow the path of his shoulder, willing the words from his throat. when you first joined stray kids, you were extremely nervous to the point where you couldn't speak, bangchan found that the movement worked well. you hoped it would work as well in your favor.

"i" he starts, his voice broken under the amount of stress resting on his chest, "yeah...i know."

you nod to yourself, a prideful smile on your lips, "okay then, why don't you take a break, let han or changbin finish it up in the morning," he goes to interject but you're quick to cut in, "and don't worry about putting this on them," taking the words from his mouth, "i'm sure they won't mind.

for the first time since he entered the studio, it's been almost 5 hours, he looks up at you and you can just see how much it's all affecting him, even down to the glassy look rising in his eyes.

he doesn't say anything but stare. he still looks hesitant. like at any moment he'll run off with the laptop and lock himself in a closet.

you stare back.

30 seconds, maybe a minute passes before a defeated look crosses over his face, letting his head drop onto your outstretched arm. wordlessly, he gives you one last look, then turns around to save the file, exit out of the software, and shuts down his computer.

"okay."

"okay?" you can't help the happiness that laces your tone.

"okay, i'll take a break, get some rest."

a squeal escapes your throat as you hold yourself back from celebrating, you honestly didn't think it was going to be as easy as it was. "i'm glad you're doing this, you need to give yourself some time to repair." you step back as he rises from the chair, holding on to his arm as he tries to return the feeling back to his legs, "how about you let me take care of you tonight? we can stop by the convenience store on the way home and pick up some snacks?"

chan immediately shakes his head, "i can't let you do that."

you bend down to retrieve your bag from the couch, making a pit stop by the lamp to turn it off, "why not?" you question, meeting him at the door. he leans on it for support. "you do it for me all the time."

"exactly," he holds open the door for you as you make your way out into the hallway, as you walk several offices are lit up by the occupants inside, you can only hope that they are not in the same situation as the man next to you. "as your elder, i'm supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around."

you scoff, rolling your eyes, "please, you know how many times i have had to take care of changbin after he gets sick because he ate too much? this is nothing new."

for the first time in 3 days a sound embodying the phrase ha ha ha escapes his lips. it's so hearty and abrupt that he has to stop walking. it brings a little smile to your face.

"what?" you groan, playing into it. "it's not funny! it was so annoying, i'm serious!" you latch onto his arm to continue dragging him out and into the lobby, nodding at the lady at the front desk as you pass, "he sounded like a baby with the way he was complaining."

"trust," he starts, regaining his breath, "i've had to deal with that before." he huffs and looks at you, then the giggles come back and you can't help but join him. it lasts until you get to the front doors of eMart.

before you can pass through the threshold a hand yanks you back. you look up to find chan already staring at you, an indescribable glint in his eyes. "yeah?"

it takes him a second to gather his thoughts, mouth opening and closing undecidedly. after a moment he finally finds his voice, hand gripping onto the sleeve of your jacket. "...thank you." he blinks and a stray tear falls, "it means a lot."

you can't help the watery smile that graces itself on your lips, the sudden affection throwing you off guard. you reach up and brush the tears from his face, using two fingers to turn the corner of his mouth upwards, "don't thank me. you always take care of us, someone has to take care of you."

you pull him towards the automatic doors, listening as the chime of the robotic voice welcomes you in. the sight of the noodles you were craving makes your stomach growl. "c'mon! i know what i want to get!"

even though this was supposed to be a break from making music, chan can't help the melody that repeats in his head as he watches you, still gripping onto his hand, drag him through the isles.

he knew he had to make something for you, as a token of appreciation.

A WEEK LATER⎯

it had been sometime since you had last been in the studio. all of the songs and planning for the comeback were completed and now you all were in the final stages, preparing for the promotions.

thankfully, today was your day off.

it had been raining nonstop, the water covering the streets and sidewalks like a blanket. even though it was 4 o'clock in the evening, clouds covered the sun making it seem more like 6.

it was perfect for a nap.

as you were getting into your bed your phone on the dresser vibrates and you grudgingly get up to retrieve it. you tap it once and the notification center pops up;

chanツ now

what would i do?.mp4

as soon as you open the message, a little confused, another text roles in.

a couple weeks ago i was going through a rough patch of overworking myself to the brink of exhaustion. i hadn't ate, bathe, or slept properly in days before. then you came and convinced me to take a break, to take care of myself. before you joined the group i was always worried about taking care of the others that i never took care of myself. you helped me realize that. i'm not trying to belittle the others for their self-awareness skills but you are the first in a long time to take care of me like that. and it had me thinking. what would i do without someone like you? and despite you telling me to take a break this came to mind and i couldn't stop myself. so y/n, this goes to you. thank you for taking care of me that night. i hope you know that i will always take care of you too.

love, bangchan.

and as you listen to the track you can't help the tears that follow.

thank you for reading <3

[sxcret-garden]

HI ITS 🪐 ANON AGAIN, SO I FINALLY REMEMBERED WHAT I WAS ALSO THINKING ABT THE OTHER DAY so most likely of any of the the ateez members (i don't have a specific one you can choose BAHASHFKCNMXKD) with an s/o who is like pretty quiet in bed like bcs sometimes people take it as a bad thing but IDK i'm not super loud so it just makes me wonder :")

Aaaaaaa i'm finally getting to this as i try to empty out my askbox a bit!! Sorry for the long wait 😭 gonna answer this as an mtl, explanations are under the cut~

most

Jongho

Yunho

Yeosang

Mingi

Seonghwa

Wooyoung

San

Hongjoong

least

I put Jongho first cause I think even if you don't make noise at all he wouldn't mind, so long as you have other means to communicate whether you like what he's doing at the moment or if he should change things up a bit. Will definitely be more talkative in this case and fill the silence with praises and muttered "I love you"s, and always asks if you feel good. The type to hum in response when he does tickle a sound out of you, and if he manages to make you moan as he makes you cum, he will certainly tease you about it with a soft smile afterwards - don't be fooled though, this guy adores every single sound you make, and will figure out over time how to lure those sweet whines out of you

Yunho does like hearing your voice during sex, and even as you're making out and fooling around before getting to business, but I think he actually prefers a partner who's on the quiet side. Little whines and silent moans do so much more to him than if his partner is super loud, and you bet he'd get drunk on hearing your voice like this alone. Whispers all the things he wants to do to you in between kisses, and if all you can respond with is a weak whine against his lips he'll just feel that much more turned on (and this might lowkey make him want to ruin you....)

I think Yeosang is a bit similar to Yunho, in that he prefers a partner who isn't super loud. He does like having you talk to him during sex, because the communication makes him feel comfortable during the whole process, but if you're not one to moan a lot or to cry out when he hits just the right spot that's totally fine with him. Even just the way your breathing speeds up and becomes heavier as you're nearing your high is a sound he'll appreciate and that'll make him eager to keep going. Whisper praises into his ear about how good he's making you feel and the guy is melting under your words alone

I see Mingi as the shy type if he hasn't been with a partner for long enough, so I think he'd absolutely understand if you're not very vocal in bed - whether the reason is because you're shy about it or because it's simply not your style. However, he will encourage you to let out your voice a bit more when he's having sex with you, because he's just really really curious about all the sounds you might make while he's pleasuring you. Very patient and will do his best to ease you into the process, and whenever you let out even the most quiet of moans he'll be right there to tell you how beautiful your voice sounds to him and how much hearing you turns him on

Seonghwa would definitely be surprised if you're barely making a sound, eventually stopping what he's doing to question whether you're enjoying yourself or if you're just doing this for his sake (which he really doesn't want). It definitely feels a little unfamiliar to him at first to have such a quiet partner, but that isn't to say he wouldn't get used to it. Would definitely talk to you more than he would with a more vocal partner, and will naturally slow down a bit to make sure you're liking what he's doing. However, he would certainly also sometimes nudge you to make more sounds, because no matter how understanding he is, there are times where he's just desperate to hear your voice during sex

I put Wooyoung so low because I'm convinced he'd have sooo much fun with a very vocal, loud partner, and because I think he's very vocal as well. He too will be surprised when he learns that you tend to be very quiet in bed, and this will just instantly make him that much softer for you. Doesn't know what to do with himself when he gets to hear your soft whines and deep sighs at the way he's touching you, and will soon find himself addicted to luring those little noises out of you. He just can't stop himself and will go as far as to overstimulate you out of pure curiousity and because it's fascinating to him how you can make him feel so many feelings at once with a simple quiet mewl

Now San is one who needs the verbal communication, even if it's just you two moaning at each other's touches. Gets seriously worried if you don't make a single sound because he's scared you might not like being intimate with him or that he's set you off in some way. However, he will be soso soft for you in an instant once he hears you give him little whines and moans or even if you whisper a curse through gritted teeth - the latter especially is gonna be such a huge turn on for him. I feel like he'd naturally match your energy and sex with him is gonna be a lot softer if you're on the quiet side than if you're very vocal from the start (but that doesn't mean he won't be willing to be rough or more experimental if you ask him to!)

I feel like Hongjoong lives off of dirty talk and getting the most desperate noises out of you, which is why he's last in the list! Not to say I don't see him enjoying himself with a quiet partner, but sometimes this guy just needs someone to talk back at him and his teasing as he's fucking you, someone to whisper the dirtiest things into his ear and to let him hear the sweetest whines when he's going just a bit too slow on purpose, and sometimes also someone to shower him with praises while you're making love at the end of a rough day. Just loves hearing your voice so much and the way you talk to him during sex just turns him on the most out of everything, so he just thinks it's a shame he doesn't get to hear more of it! Though he will be the most understanding ever if you're not comfortable with the idea of being a little louder too

[cowboyjen68]

Hi!!

I just wanted to ask some advice from one butch to another.

I recently got my dream job of being a warden on a nature reserve (and i love it!), while interacting with people there I get called a young man very often (i am 18 lol) and it gives me euphoria to know im masculine enough to even pass as a man. I've also had some volunteers ask if I was a man or not (despite my feminine name).

But recently I got called a "lady" outside while out with my mother. It drove me INSANE I cried alot.

Don't get me wrong I do identify as a woman but I hate being seen as a lady.

I've even thought about using he/him pronouns recently and changing my name but i'm too scared to as most people won't understand bc im still a lesbian.

Is this strange?

ps love u and ur blog lots xx

This is an easy answer because I was 18 once and looked enough like a teenage boy that I got "hey sport" and "hey young man" all the time, especially when in my work clothes. I worked for The Mayor's Youth Corp in Iowa City in the summers of my 15th and 16th year. Mom and Dad let me get a work permit AND bought me a used Datsun Pickup so I could drive myself the 20 miles there and back each day.

I was a volunteer with the Corp of Engineers youth from 14 to 16 and Dad knew I was super excited about this job. Mom was not thrilled that I wanted to cut my hair but my "grand mullet" was really hot under the hard hat in the summer heat of Iowa. (in the 1980's boys and girls had the short in front long and permed in back look) We compromised and I cut the sides really short. (photo of my me at 16 in my uniform for reference)

Using "he" would never have occurred to me because "EWWW Boys". This is not to say, however, that I hated being mistaken for a boy, on the contrary, it felt good. When someone thought I was a young man it meant they treated me as such. They didn't talk down to me, I knew they assumed I was capable and willing to get dirty. I knew unconsiously that along with the mistaken identity came many perks. This was nothing I analyzed but little girls see very early on the difference in treatment they recieve from their brothers, male cousins and neighborhood boys. This difference leads us to become negotiators to control our circumstances and not entittled to treatment based on our skills and actual personalies.

When an adult recognized me as a boy, even for a second at first glance, I knew I didn't have to prove myself. They, for an instant, assigned to me words like "strong, capable, demanding etc". No negotations required.

When someone realized I was a girl they literally had a change in their face. They smiled at me, softened their voice. When I was called "young lady" or "Miss" it always seemed to be backed my the worst assumptions (in my mind anyway). Lady is steeped in all kinds of traits I didnt want assigned to me. "quiet, weak, likes to dress pretty"OR "motherly, submissive, meek" Nothing good in my teen brain, that is for sure. Lady felt so OLD, so married to a man and reliant on him for survival, so polyster pants and ugly flats and scratchy blouses with a flower imprint. NONE of these things are inherent to being a woman or even socially forced on us but that is not how things work sometimes. Words that describe people get stereotypes and myths and traits attached to them all the time. Woman and girl are no different.

I can tell you, the best feeling in the world when I was in that job was when my supervisor, who damn well knew I was a young woman, trusted me with all the same tasks as the boys. Who valued my opinions and abilities equally to the young men. He took time to teach me what I didn't know, just like with them and didn't assume I couldn't or didn't want to learn things on the job. He didn't shame ANYONE for not being strong enough or for getting tired or needing a break.

Don't let the assumptions of others force you into another box of conformity. You don't need a boys name or to use any pronouns you don't feel connected to just to please others. In fact, none of that effort will change perceptions of those around you. I can promise that one day being called Lady will just be another word that you can hear and know it does not change your personality or your interests or control the hope you have for your future. What does waste a lot of time and energy is trying to adjust things in your life to fit incorrect or snap assumptions about you as a person. You can never control the thoughts of those around you but what you can do is stop worrying about it and enjoy YOU.

You have a job you love and are sure to thrive in. You are solid in your sexuality and love of women, you are in a unique position to possibly change the perceptions of others when they think of "young women". Your interactions with the public are sure to effect the assumpions of at least some people when they think of young women and their roles in our society.

Congratulations on your new career and I bet you rock that uniform.

[skzkiof]

can u write a fic of ivantill navigating their feelings after the kiss if they were both saved by the rebels

Till was annoyed. He was also feeling a lot of other things, undoubtedly, but annoyance was at the top of the list because why wouldn't they just let him see Ivan already?

"Can you please stop pacing?"

He paused mid-step and glanced over at Mizi.

"I just found out one of my friends who I honestly thought was dead has actually been alive this whole time and my other friend is currently being operated on after nearly giving his life to save me. Sorry if I'm a little antsy."

Mizi gave a small smile, undeterred by his bluntness as usual. Or what used to be usual. Till wasn't so sure what had or hadn't changed.

"He'll be okay, I promise." Even as she said it, her eyes were drawn to the closed door. They couldn't even hear anything through the thick metal. "You heard them; the wound was pretty minor. Just grazed his side."

Till pressed his lips into a thin line, hands curled into fists at his sides.

"Why did he do that?" he asked, barely louder than a whisper. Mizi stood up and crossed the hall, drawing him into a hug. He used to dream about this - having her undivided attention - but now it did little to ease the terrible pain in his chest.

Sniffing once, he hugged her tight. She didn't say anything, even as began to cry into her shoulder.

-

It was nearly two hours before the door opened and one of the healers - Mizi had introduced them but honestly Till couldn't remember her name; he had been kind of traumatized at the time, okay? - stepped out.

Till tried very hard not to focus on the blood staining the front of her shirt. "He's stable," she said.

"Okay, great." Till didn't even wait before trying to push past her; she didn't budge. "Come on! I just want to see him."

She smiled politely. "I didn't say you couldn't. Just try and be quiet, okay? He might be doze in and out, don't try to force him to stay awake."

Till pursed his lips. "I know," he grumbled. Mizi joined his side.

"Thank you," she said. With a shared nod, the healer left. Inside the room was the other healer; he quietly set a rag on Ivan's forehead before also leaving the room.

"He still has a slight fever," he explained. "If he asks, you can refresh the rag." He pointed to a bucket on the table with what Till could only hope was clean water.

Once he was gone, Till walked over to the bed and sat down. Mizi sat on the other side of the bed. Ivan hadn't stirred since they walked in.

He looked bad - terrible, even. His skin was even paler than usual, there was a bit of crusted blood still at the corner of his mouth, dark circles under his eyes.

But he was alive, and that was all that mattered.

"I'll just stay until he wakes up," Mizi said quietly, staring at him. "I just want to make sure he's okay."

Till had almost forgotten he wasn't the only one who had been wounded by what happened. He suddenly felt a little guilty.

"You don't have to leave," he said instead.

She smiled over at him; there was something about the look in her eyes that made Till feel exposed. He didn't like the feeling. "I think you two need to talk."

He didn't argue, even if the last thing he wanted to do right now was talk about what had happened. Any of it.

-

Ivan woke up about ten minutes later; he was groggy, as expected, voice hoarse and scratchy.

"Here." Till moved without even thinking, grabbing a cup he had noticed on the table a little earlier.

Ivan was too weak to even hold it. Till adapted quickly; he held the cup to his lips and tilted it back a little. Once Ivan was done, he set it aside again.

"So," he licked his lips. "I guess this isn't heaven, huh?"

Mizi laughed softly. "Not even close. But you're safe here, at least."

He sighed, groaning a little as he tried to sit up. Till moved quickly, gently grabbing his arm to help him. He wasn't even sure if he should be moving yet but he wasn't about to fight him; that just seemed like asking for even more trouble.

"I really expected to die up there," he said once he was settled, the rag fallen at his side. Till grabbed it, plopping it in the bucket for now.

Mizi pressed her lips together. "I think I'm going to go see if they have anything that'll be easy enough on your stomach," she said, gently touching Ivan's shoulder as she stood.

"I'm not hungry," he replied automatically.

She clicked her tongue. "Too bad; you need to eat to recover."

Without waiting for a reply, she swept around the bed and paused just long enough to squeeze Till's shoulder once before leaving the room.

The silence was almost suffocating.

"You weren't really choking me," Till blurted.

Ivan side-eyed him. "Of course not," he said slowly. "Did you really think I would?"

Till opened his mouth, closed it. "I'm not really sure of anything anymore," he admitted quietly.

"It was just a ploy," Ivan continued, looking away. "I don't know. I just needed them to believe it."

It was silent again for a few beats. Till stared at his hands.

"You could've killed me," he said eventually. "I didn't care."

He chanced a look; Ivan was still staring ahead at nothing, his mouth a tight line. "I would've never let that happen," he said and for a moment Till wasn't sure what he meant until - "I would've done anything to ensure your safety."

And that was the crux of it, huh?

Till thought of Ivan's hands around his throat, surprisingly gentle. He thought about his mouth. His lips. He had kissed Till like he was searching for something. Like he needed something.

"You kissed me," he said. It felt weird, finally saying the words.

Ivan snorted, shaking his head minutely. "I did." He side-eyed Till again. "I know it was selfish of me. I know."

"But if you could do it over again, would you still kiss me?"

Till wasn't even sure what had motivated him to ask. Ivan smiled; it was almost sad. "Probably."

He nodded. He wasn't upset. He wasn't even sure if he had been upset, in the moment, not for longer than a second. Mostly he had been confused.

But now that he had time to think on it, he wasn't so confused anymore.

"I never knew," he mused quietly. "I mean." He looked up, suddenly a little angry. "You never told me. You should've told me."

All that time he had been chasing after Mizi and a part of him had always known it was never going to happen. She had loved - she still did - love Sua.

Time wasted. He had never even considered...

"There was no reason to burden you with my own feelings," Ivan said evenly. "I'm selfish, maybe, but I didn't want to make things even more complicated for you."

Till breathed out through his nose. "You really think you were doing that for my sake?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice level. "You think you had the right to decide what was best for me?"

Ivan stared back at him, eyes as dark as ever. "I don't understand."

"You kept it from me," Till continued, pressing a hand to his chest, "because you were scared to say it. You were scared of how I would respond."

Ivan let out a humorless laugh. "We both know how you would've responded, Till." He sighed. "This is a pointless argument to have."

He still wasn't getting it. "No," he said, leaning closer. "We don't know how I would've responded because you never gave me the chance."

"Just like you gave the same chance to Mizi?" he shot back.

Till pressed his lips together. "That is not the same and you know it. Sua loved her back. It was different. I - " He paused, biting the inside of his cheek.

Suddenly the fight was drained out of him. Ivan eyed him warily.

"You what?" he asked, looking cautious and almost nervous. Till had never seen that expression on his face. He always looked so in control of everything. It was nice to be reminded he was really just human like the rest of them.

Till swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I think I could've liked you, Ivan. If only I had known."

Ivan stared at him like he wasn't really seeing him. "No," he said, too fast. He looked more scared, here, than he had up on that stage.

"Didn't factor that into your little plan, huh?" he asked; without asking, he pulled the rag out of the water and wrung it before leaning forward to gently scrub away the dried blood on his chin. "I don't think I ever really liked her, not in the way I thought I did."

Ivan was silent, his jaw clenched.

"I was just - I needed something. An escape. A dream. She was nice to me. Pretty..." Till sat back. "I think I just really wanted someone to care about me."

Ivan glanced at him briefly before looking away again.

"But this whole time I was blind to see I had that," Till felt his eyes burning. "Maybe you weren't as obvious about it, maybe you had your own way of showing it, but... that doesn't matter." He tossed the rag aside and reached for his hand; Ivan stiffened as he grabbed it but didn't pull away. "I would like to have a second chance."

Ivan stared at their hands. "You don't owe me this," he said, voice still carefully even.

"I'm not offering anything because I feel like endowed to you," he squeezed his hand, hard. "You know me well enough to know I wouldn't do that. Now stop fighting me on this and look at me."

Ivan lifted his head.

"Thank you, Ivan," he said, staring into his eyes - dark, yes, but warm, comforting and familiar - "for caring about me, even when I couldn't see it."

Ivan opened his mouth, closed it. He squeezed his hand back. If Till didn't know better, he would even say he was blushing a little.

Maybe he would always have a bit of regret for not really seeing Ivan earlier. Maybe Ivan would apologize many more times for kissing him without permission. Maybe he would try to apologize for hurting Till, even if he didn't. Not really. All the pain he had felt - the real pain - was cured the moment he had known he would be okay. Maybe they would still struggle a lot, have bad and good days, but maybe that was okay.

[skynapple]

Rafayel Into The Canvas: Analysis **Spoilers**

Long analysis ahead!! I've tried to break it into chronological chunks!

TL;DR - Sky rambles about Rafayel for a very long time.

I never know when he like, plans his coincidental showing-up-where-she-is things because... they really could be coincidental but I think maybe we're meant to think they're not. But the disappointment here is my weakness. Quality time is one of my love languages so like, the showing up for her and then actually being discontent with not having her time is what's really endearing to me. There's a lot of moments I really enjoy how obvious Rafayel makes it that he wants nothing more than to be around her and share the same space as her.

Then, he knows, right? He knew what she was going to say, he asked anyway, just in case, and just to acknowledge that and make it known to her.

Then ok omg 🥺 his voice.

He gets quiet, and soft, and like he's clearly trying to reassure her, in spite of what he's feeling. Just... the way he knows how she is. He knows how she gets. I could CRY.

Honestly MC really does want to, also. Like you can tell she doesn't want to let him down. That moment of not wanting to say she can't but not knowing if she can agree is sooo real. And then he captures that sentiment immediately, and in so many short words tells her like, 'Hey, I get it. I'll be here for you.' and all without saying that outright but. I used to hate how much he doesn't seem to communicate with her -and yeah he has his secrets- but the more I play this game the more I kinda realize he's the one who's allegedly 'had' her the longest over all the lifetimes so far,* so more than anyone he really speaks her language well.

*Sidenote: Cause current!Zayne doesn't know about any of his other lives with her, and Xavier although he's also spent multiple lifetimes with her... admittedly a lot of their 'long' lives weren't spent together in earnest, in their past lives there has always been a bit of a wall between them. Sylus I'd say comes maybe closest to seemingly not having their barrier but we don't know enough of his lore yet (although from what I've played through it does seem like he also speaks MC very well).

MOVING ALONG.

~5 Days Later~

I WHEEZEDDD

Leave it to Rafayel to bribe a child into making sure she finds him again. Honestly, there's some hidden messages here.

MC acknowledged she's nearly forgotten already that Rafayel said to call her. I'm sure he anticipated that (sadly 😭). And also, maybe that she'd be... directionally challenged in a brand new town? And if he's busy with the painting lessons, he probably wouldn't have been able to get on the phone and try to guide her that way himself or, maybe knew GPS wouldn't have good reception? Anyway he's SO thoughtful.

We're seeing here also Rafayel's unexpectedly very good with kids. But... maybe he's really keen on giving kids the treatment he never got as a child? Kids want to be acknowledged and taken seriously, and be dealt with patiently, and want space to let their creativity soar. Who knows how much of that he got in his childhood.

I love his "teacher" mode and it's exactly his fault for saying "paint wherever you like." Please I would have ABSOLUTELY done the same.

And he does it right back to her but like, also I couldn't help but think of God of the Tides? As a couple, did they also spend time painting their markings on each other? I wonder if it was attendants who did it for them. Was it everyday or was it some kind of water tattoo? I digress. I still think it might've sparked some memories for him.

And she proceeds to stare at him like half the time, really in awe. Same.

It's just a very, very sweet moment. There's something really special about watching someone you love do something they're really passionate about.

This is immediately becoming my favorite Rafayel card (I want to say not because I'm an artist but I'd be lying). Just the admiration they both clearly have for each other. Also, she really gets it, I think now more than ever, just how much she means to him, and also, how much he means to her. These tender moments are just as special and intimate as any physical ones, and sometimes even more so.

It's sooooo soft.

His little blush when he realized he was being stared at took me out alskdhslkg sir please have you looked in a mirror? He's so pretty when he's focused.

What got me also is him saying he'd just wait for her. Of course he kind of "teases" that she promised she'd meet up with him when she clearly didn't, but knew they'd meet up eventually if he waited long enough. This is a constant theme with these two.

Her not necessarily being willing or able to make promises to him, and him just waiting for her to fulfill these unspoken promises anyway. Either because of his love and determination, he knows or is just hopeless enough to think fate be damned, it'll happen anyway.

There's an interesting translation difference. The English "translation" that's captioned says this:

But it was either the voice actors or voice directors choice to change the spoken dialogue. What's actually spoken is this:

And I like the decision because it takes the "no big deal" out of it, which I think gets to the heart of the message and the character more.

As a voice director one of the most difficult things working with translation teams is trying to capture the essence of the story. It's not always about translating word for word, it's - ok, what's going to get this very specific point across to the audience?

Maybe it's not a big deal to Rafayel, or maybe he would say that –because he has waited so long to be physically in her presence the past few centuries already– but it's more impactful that the point is just:

No matter how long he has to wait, he will always wait a bit longer for her, because she means that much to him.

Then of course there's more playful banter, and allusion to a few things. Using the kids as a slight analogy. She did miss Rafayel.

I think it's sweet too how much she honestly does think of him in earnest, she's just not the best at explaining or expressing this. Again, her saving grace is he does speak her language and understands her.

Sometimes I think a lot about why MC is ... like that, and you know I always have to remember like... she was probably always trying to be tough as a kid? Who knows how often "grandma" was actually home, and having a "brother" kinda makes you tougher as a person. She grew up constantly not wanting people to worry about her, and it's really clear in all her routes and stories she has always struggled to express exactly what she means... mostly also because this is her "first" relationship of this nature. And there's always a huge learning curve in navigating communication like this in your first serious relationship. But... she's trying. And she's relying less on him picking up what she's putting down.

I know MC is meant to be "you" in the story but as for me, I like to imagine she probably had a sheepish grin on her face when she mentioned they lantern she made, it probably made it even easier for him to clock what she was thinking about. And even if he already planned on "gifting" it to himself, I feel his bright wide grin is probably just him realizing, 'Really? She would have gifted it to me anyway?' Because as much as you think you know someone, sometimes they find ways to surprise you anyways. You can literally hear in his voice how like,,, excited he gets.

And she's not even really embarrassed, it's heartwarming, and she laughs at her painting skills.

We get more MC continuity here!

I can't fault her for not saying like "I hope I get to spend more time with Rafayel" cause lollll as much as we wish, like, I dunno!! In that moment wouldn't you also be thinking of something like your family or your overall future?

For MC though, this is just one of her strings of continuity. She is very work and 'world peace' focused. It's in all of her routes with every LI. It's not that she doesn't love her S/O, this is just how and who she is. It's not like Rafayel isn't included in that ''healthy, happy life" she mentions.

I see it occasionally in discourse (occasionally from newer players where less lore is accessible) people immediately fault MC for not putting the boys first so... verbally, the way they do. But to me, she doesn't need to. To me, this is her way of doing so. She wants to work hard so everyone can live more peacefully, him and her included, and I think that's sweet. And I think Rafayel gets it.... even though you can tell there's a smidge in him that wishes too that she'd just outright say she wants more of his time too 😆 but, again, I think he gets it.

And then of course there's his wish, too. There's so much to unpack here. And it goes beyond him "getting it" he's... so immediately supportive. He wants to be with her every step of the way along her dreams.

You just know he's going to find ways to continue running into her. But less superficially, again, this is him saying he covets just being in the same space with her.

And then of course the ever-so-subtle lore mentions. Even if he can't be with her necessarily, he's always going to wait for her to come to him (even if she can't or won't because she doesn't remember-- but he knows she will, when she does remember).

All in all there's just this huge boost in trust between them and enjoyment of the mundane intimacy between them. He's not whiny, or pushy, he's patient, and she isn't standoffish, or embarrassed, she genuinely wants to just sit in that peace and space with him. They've grown a lot and it's very, very sweet to see.

[knightyoomyoui]

The 1% Of Chances | TWICE Jeongyeon x Male Reader Fanfic: CHAPTER 9

Hellooo! Damn, it's been almost 8 months now since I haven't updated this book, and I almost forgot where I left off, which required me to re-read this book and the plot outline I made. Sorry for those who waited, but what's important now is that IT'S BACK, and I'm finally going to finish this to lessen the worklist I have on my drafts. We are now down to 3 chapters left, and so far, I'm also applying some little changes to the ending because I just thought of something better than the originally planned one.

Actually, there's nothing much going on here in the entirety of this chapter, but it serves as a short "calm before the storm" moment that will finally set us up for the climax down to the conclusion of the story.

Since Jeongyeon doesn't have a schedule for today—which includes you as her personal manager—you've both agreed to go somewhere more fun with your spare time rather than just spending it in the dorm.

She offered to drive you home in Jeongyeon's own vehicle, taking the wheel as soon as you were done loading. You were taken aback at first, but because it was her initiating the task, you didn't mind objecting and allowing her to proceed so as not to ruin her fun.

You sat at the passenger's seat next to Jeongyeon and laughed together before she started the engine and operated the vehicle, stepping on the accelerator to get you both to your first destination.

"Do you want me to play some music while you drive?" You asked her, aware at the fact that although you can find yourselves some topic to talk about throughout the ride, it might die down and make the atmosphere a bit boring and quiet.

"Sure." She quickly replied to you, agreeing to listen too. "Hey, wanna do some carpool karaoke?"

"Was that like doing a karaoke while in a car?"

"Nice catch, genius…?" Jeongyeon looked at you in a deadpan manner which caused you to be slightly embarrassed. "Ofcourse silly, you just reversed the name. And yeah, it's simply singing along while we're on a ride."

"Hmm sure, I'll take the male vocals."

"Nope, I want you to sing with me even if it's female." Jeongyeon shook her head.

"I can't sing that well, my voice isn't low pitch." You declined. "And… it's making me shy."

"What? Why? It's just the two of us come on." Jeongyeon whined as she bounced at her seat to express her disappointment. "I wanna see you sing along to some female led-songs."

"I don't sing one, I'm mostly into male-leds."

"You sure?" She side-eyed you. "Hmm then what about when I saw you having that Sabrina Carpenter song on your Spot-"

"Okay okay stop!" You became flushed as you didn't expect Jeongyeon would use this as a retort card to capture you on the corner. "Ugh, fine. But I was just curious about it because I've been hearing it a lot on my Insta feed so… I tried to give it a listen."

"It was a vibe actually." She agreed.

"Yeah it sounds so good. Don't know her that much but that's probably one of my songs I could use to cheer myself up."

"Should we listen to it?"

"Okay…" You were about to search for it on your playlist until you paused. "Wait, we're gonna sing too right?"

"Mmhmm.."

"But her voice was smooth there, I might ruin the song with my monstrous voice."

"Hey, who told you that?!" Jeongyeon knitted her brows in disapproval at the self-deprecating term you chose. "I always thought you'd be a great voice actor or something, and you probably had such a great deep voice. It doesn't even matter if you can't match the notes; all I want is for us to have fun. Just go with the vibe of the song, that's all."

Also, don't you want your partner to be happy?" She was teasing you, pouting her lips and making fun at you with her sulky attitude. You've noticed her habit, and it was too irresistable to ignore without being continuously obstinate.

"Okay, fine, I'm going to play it. Damn it, Jeong, you really know how my weak spot is." You clicked your tongue as you pinched her cheeks, which made her giggle like a little girl. As you played the music, both you and her sang along together. She did laugh at you, but not because of how horrible you sound as what you think of yourself. You were pretty average, and she was just reacting this way because she was obviously impressed by you.

After going through your third song, you noticed in the GPS tracker that you're shortly meters away from reaching the place where you are heading both. You've decided to share something that popped into your mind.

"This is honestly my second time of going here." You recalled. "I remember when me and my family used to come here way before I was young."

"How old were you back then?"

"Hmm… 17 I guess?" You said. "It was a celebration for my brother being an honor awardee in his school. I kinda missed going here, well I wanted to bit you know, time passes and we grow old enough and some interests don't stay with us forever. My brother is already at the right age and he doesn't feel to visit these sort of place anymore like he used to be. Well even if he does, we still wouldn't be able to do so anyway."

"Why so?"

"Broken family." You bitterly smiled. "It won't feel the same as before anymore."

Jeongyeon looked at you concerned and gripped your hand. "Sorry to hear that. Hey, let's stop talking about it if it'll make you comfortable. We're now here, let's not kill the mood alright?"

"Yeah, sorry Jeong. It's my fault."

"No, don't mind it. You just want to recollect some memories you had, and you know I'm willing to listen to your stories anytime you want. I'll be here if you need something to release within yourself okay?" She lightly punched you in the chest then ruffled your hair.

"Okay." You smiled nicely at her. She gave you a quick kiss on the lips after that, increasing your energy back at its full capacity for today.

"Let me park this big boy right here first." She said as she paid for the parking fee at the guard before proceeding to enter the vacant lot.

You and Jeongyeon got out of your car and took your stuff after finding a spot to park for a while. You take her hand obediently as she shows the tickets to gain entry into Lotte Park, your first of three destinations to have some alone time together. You strolled across the park's entrance afterwards.

She put on her mask to reduce the attention she might get from individuals who might recognize her as a member of TWICE and a K-Pop idol. Even if it means that she will have to give up her freedom to display her bare face in public, she doesn't want anyone to disrupt this moment with you. She doesn't care because, at this point, all that matters to her is to be with you today.

"Where should we head on first?" Jeongyeon said as she viewed the entire interior of the amusement park, the different rides, attractions, arcades and many more all visible in your eyes to choose.

"Hmm… I want to… I want to eat first."

"Yah, seriously?" She chuckled at you. "We just ate before going out of the dorm and now you're hungry again?"

"I love eating, you can't blame me."

"You're also unfair and unbelievable, you know? You eat this much and yet you don't get fat." Jeongyeon elbowed you on the stomach. "Alright, you male counterpart of Momo, what fast-food chain you want?"

"Some hotdog station will do."

"I'm easy to talk with, so let's go." She grabbed your wrist and pulled it with her like you're a child being dragged along by your mother.

Reaching the 2nd floor where the food section is at, both of you stepped in front of the hotdog station where you wanted to eat. She lets you choose the order first since you're the one who requested this, and you kindly obliged to it.

Minutes later, you have received your foods altogether and ate it while watching the visitors around the place, having fun in their own ways. Even at sightseeing was fun to do so with your carefree and adventurous girlfriend, there won't be an instance where she wouldn’t try to find something hilarious for both of you to share laughters with.

For instance, she was telling you how much the other members enjoyed hotdogs when she just broke out into laughter. She mentioned that she had just witnessed a dad stumble in front of the playhouse while chasing his child when you asked her why. Even though you may not have witnessed it directly, Jeongyeon's laughter is contagious enough to make you get along with her easily.

After emptying your hotdogs, Jeongyeon brought yourselves back onto the main business of going here in the park. You immediately said your first preference to try.

The couple has attempted almost the entire selection of rides, attractions, and arcades all around the main lobby of the park, leading to yourself being highly exhausted from the adrenaline, enthusiasm, and laughter you have both spent playing like crazy.

You two rest on a bench first to conserve your energy for the next destination. You volunteered to wipe Jeongyeon's sweat across her back and arms and also bought some cotton candy for you and her. Another brief conversation has passed through, and after making yourselves satisfied, you exit and ride the car again with her to head to the following location.

You took the wheel this time as you let Jeongyeon sleep for a while after she shared that she's feeling sleepy. It was a silent ride, so you reopened your playlist and played it at a minimal volume to avoid disrupting your girlfriend's peaceful sleep.

It took like 45 minutes to get to the Seoul Museum of History, which was your suggestion to visit with her since you have to learn the history of everything, from its origin to how it evolved and what it left for the next generations to either adapt or innovate with respect to the progress of time in our world.

You woke up, Jeongyeon, after successfully reaching the designatedplace. She nodded in response, and she did some adjustment of her look to prevent looking haggard outside from her sleep. Bringing your camera with you, she walked with you again with arms clasped on each other, accompanying you towards the entrance of the museum.

You happen to roam around and snap pictures of the items, people, and events that transpired or existed in South Korea with Jeongyeon as a keepsake of your time spent with her, and these areas are organized into categories via each floor. Additionally, Jeongyeon was amazed and intrigued by several fascinating informations you learnt about Seoul and South Korea as a whole.

Once you've finished looking over all of the artifacts, antiques, statues, and other items on exhibit inside, you tell Jeongyeon that your time is up and you may go on to your final destination and finish the day with her.

Driving under the sky of Korea, about to greet the nightfall with the gradual emergence of the bright moon and the soft transition of the clarity of the clouds to the darkness of the aerial perspective, you and Jeongyeon calmly watched the surroundings you two were passing while on the way there.

Sighting the familiar spot from the distance, it brought relief for the both of you that you have made through all of these safely and successfully, bringing much joy to each other. Parking the car again for the third time, you joined Jeongyeon to stroll with you around Seokcheon Lake Park, your final place to spend the remaining time available tonight with her.

Apart from the rows of cherry blossoms that surrounding them, both of them were thrilled to capture the stunning scenery that would be perfect for a lovely pair like you and Jeongyeon.

You have spotted a tteobokki cart and without hesitation, you bought each for yourselves and claimed an available bench in front of the lake as you take a break along with her.

"Oh… mhmm… wow. Tteobokki will always remain one of the greatest foods I've ever tasted." You complimented after chewing the rice cake and sipping its sweet and spicy sauce.

"I'm with you on that." She also took a bit again and hummed at how satisfying delicious it is. "We did shaped this day better as what we expected, right?"

"And we deserve this too, after such hectic schedule that we had from you. I just hope the girls are doing well too on their own." You replied.

"I'm most certain they are. They aren't choosy or like timid to try something to entertain themselves through their day off. They're basically easy to explore things as long as they develop interest to it." She said.

You finished your food and threw it at the nearby trash bin before returning beside your girlfriend and cuddle with her. While watching the reflection of the nightsky through the crystal clear water of the lake, you inserted a topic that suddenly crossed your mind.

"Jeongyeon, do you think we'll last long?"

She looks at you before returning her gaze back at the scenery in front of you two. You felt her shoulders shrug, but the way her arms clenched yours tighter is enough to confirm her answer.

"I don't know, but I really hope we do. We just have to commit ourselves to do anything that won't break our trust for each other."

"Yeah, and for me… I don't even think it's possible for neither one of us to fell out of love someday. Especially me, I really do love you a lot, Jeongyeon. So much that I think even after everything that may happen to us for better or for worse, my heart would always bring me back to you."

"Can tell the same as mine." Jeongyeon smiled and made her head more comfortable laying atop on your shoulder. "We'll either just leave the fate on us… or we create a fate of our own where no matter what happens, from the start until the end, it will still remain to be you and I forever."

"I really can't wait for our wedding in the future." You chuckled as you caress her hand, especially the finger that you would love to insert your engagement and wedding ring for her. "But about that… I still have something to accomplish first before we get through there."

Jeongyeon may have caught what you meant by that. "Are you sure about that, YN?"

"They definitely knew about our relationship now anyway, it's all around the news and internet. I say we must not take them too long waiting for us to confirm it ourselves."

"So you're ready now."

"Almost… but I can handle it. I-I'm a bit nervous still at what your parents are going to react."

"They have no problem with it when they confronted me about it. They're nice, YN. I'm sure you'll easily win their approval, I mean… you fit the qualities of what they like the most for a guy that will take their daughter to marry." Jeongyeon giggled and and blushed at that fact.

"So you mean they're not also against on you loving a non-celebrity guy like me?"

"Tsk, as if they give a damn about it." She rolled her eyes and stared at you a bit intensely. "Them and even I don't need somebody who is also popular to be told as my perfect match. I take love seriously, and what I need in return is somebody who can give me that pure and sincere. I'm not someone who prefers bragging a relationship because of our social status, I just want a man who is willing to love me for who I am inside and outside, and I found it from you, YN. Because of that, you have stolen my heart and gave me the feels."

She tried to be serious after admitting it all to you until she slowly cracks a laughter after she saw your expression noticing something suspcious.

"Wait a minute…" You also began to cackle with her. "Did you really just included a reference to The Feels?"

"Yah! I thought I was too slick for that." She conceded defeat. "But I said what I said, and you know I mean what I mean, YN."

You pulled her head against you and kissed her directly on the lips, which took some time for yourselves to separate as you encouraged her to move your mouths deeper to make your intimacy more passionate, just as you wanted it.

You leaned away for a second and stared deeply at Jeongyeon's sparkling eyes while brushing her pink tinted cheeks. "I know, Jeongyeon, and I'll always have it on my mind while I feel your love for me."

"Great, then get back here and let me give you more." She pulled your collar through her, forcefully inviting you back into another heated kiss of affection.

As they arrived on the dorm, you both tried to continue making out with each other when suddenly it got interrupted again when you felt a stinging pain again in your head returned from yesterday.

"YN what's happening to you?" Your girlfriend checks up on you as she observes you loose the hem of her shirt from your grip while you groan and crunch your face.

"It's hurting again…"

"What? Where is it?"

"My head." You said as you hold your skull to endure the kicking pain that causes you severe discomfort.

It made Jeongyeon alerted at your condition. She went through the first aid kit and looked for some painkiller pills and filled a glass of water before going back to you and instructed you to take it.

You followed her advice and she let you lay your head beside her neck as she cuddled you. She slowly laid you down on the bed with her and gently stroked your hair.

"Calm down, YN. It will be gone shortly. I think you're tired of everything we did today, so rest up for now okay?"

"Okay."

"There you go. Goodnight and love you." She kissed you on the forehead before she continues taking care of you.

"Love you too, Jeong. Goodnight."

Both of you went calm that it disappeared and the medicine worked atleast… although only for a while.

Two days later while you are currently helping the stylists who are applying make ups to Jeongyeon and cleaning all the managers' leftover food containers, another episode of pain attacked your head again. It became confusing and quite frightening to you that the more you're suffering from this, the more painful it gets compared to last time .

What's surprising was that it didn't also occur at night which was way earlier today, pointing that it also happens now at a random period of time.

“Unnie, he’s been like this since few days ago. I don’t know what to do.”

"Jeongyeon, join YN. I'll call emergency and JYP for a while." Sadness said as she hurriedly reported your condition to both of these important people that can hold responsibility for your currently worrying state.

She returned to the dressing room, passing through staffs and the other TWICE members who are heavily scared and worried for both of their friends. "The ambulance are on their way now. JYP also agreed and mentioned that he will pay some visit for YN afterwards."

"Thank you unnie." Jeongyeon nodded before she returned her gaze at you who is still clenching your body like a ball while gripping your head furiously in pain.

"Hold on for a while, YN. Okay? Help is coming. Please, I hope nothing bad must happen to you," she said as she started to get teary-eyed seeing the love of her life suffering in her arms.

The medical team arrived at the place a few minutes later and immediately rescued the poor YN, putting him on a stretcher while Jeongyeon insisted on joining her boyfriend's side on the way to the hospital.

She guarded you intently, watching you barely opening your eyes and weakly breathing, while the thoughts and feelings disturbing her were filled with fear and anxiety regarding your health.

[crimsonmochi]

Hawks | The Blood On My Hands

▸▸▸ HAWKS/KEIGO TAKAMI MASTERLIST

▸▸▸ SUMMARY : Hawks forgot to save everyone else but you, officially getting written up by HR and yourself.

▸▸▸ DETAILS : Angst, fem!reader, quirkless!reader, Hawks is your boyfriend, argument frfr, fluff and praise if you squint

▸▸▸ WARNINGS : Smut

▸▸▸ AUTHOR NOTES: dont forget to like >:>>

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"Y/n, come on, look at me. I said look at me," Keigo says firmly. "You don't understand what this job is. Sometimes you have to make these choices."

You glare at him with glossed-over eyes across the shiny kitchen counter.

"There were people, Keigo. You could've saved so many people, and you chose to save me. You made that decision on your own without asking. You're supposed to save as many people as you can." Your voice is quiet compared to his. None of you want this argument to transform into a fight, having both been through a lot in the past twelve hours.

The tiny cuts on your hand from holding onto a worn-out piece of wood for at least fifteen minutes earlier started to prick as you absent-mindedly poked at them.

"I don't expect you to understand."

"You're right, I don't."

"Right, no, you don't. You don't fucking know what it's like. I don't give a shit if you don't understand, you have no right to be mad at me for saving you. You not having a quirk in this society makes you entirely defenceless. What the fuck did you want me to do, huh?!" Keigo's voice picked up in volume and anger, shouting at you in desperation for a hint of comprehension. "Just stay back and watch you die?!"

You looked away. "No, don't fucking look away from me, look at me." Keigo had a big thing for communication and eye contact, always searching for your gaze to understand your feelings. For you to understand his. "Would you have really preferred for me to let you die in front of me?"

"It's not about me Kei... It's about everyone else. They also deserved to be saved."

"You don't think I already have blood on my hands? I know you don't think it's fair. I know that." The hero's calloused hands grasped the edge of the counter, sighing. "I can't do my job if you're not safe," he continues. "There's nothing in this world worth saving if you're not here with me, (Y/n). Literally nothing. I do this job because I want to keep people safe ― which includes you by the way ― but also one day, truly live in a society where heroes actually have too much time on their hands, like the people say. So I can spend time with you, and be an active part of our life together instead of coming home at three in the morning while you're already asleep. Or having to plan a month in advance for a single date because of all the paperwork I have to fill out just to take the night off."

His voice picks up again. "Fucking look around, (Y/n)! Everything I fucking do is for you! This place? For you. My job? For you. I intend to keep you safe until my dying breath. Until someone takes a spear to my heart. I don't give a fuck if you don't approve of how I do it."

Keigo's large wings, extending outwards in a threatening way, showed the extent of the hero's feelings. A sincerity you can't fake, a vow you can't disprove. He looked like an angel from the other side of the counter, an angel with red wings and worn-out eyes, courtesy of the duty he felt he had to fulfill.

The hero lowered his head once again, his wings faltering. "I just... I can't lose you (Y/n). You're all I have left."

He knew you didn't mind him crying around you, but he always wanted to seem stronger than that. He had weaknesses but never owned up to them. This time, it was different. "I would repeat what I did a thousand times over if it meant us having this argument right now... if it meant you were sitting at the other end of the counter, safe and strong enough to talk back to me." Keigo looked up, tears brimming his eyes. His voice was shaky and uneven, finding cracks to seep through every now and then.

You frowned. You felt bad as Keigo described you as "all he had left". Although you didn't want him to extend favouritism towards you, you knew he wasn't capable of it. He would choose you over any group of people. Over Japan.

Over the entire world, if it came down to it.

And here you were, as he felt you were rejecting everything he's ever offered and will ever offer. He felt you were rejecting him.

"You have to understand," Keigo walked around the counter towards you. "You have to understand you're the reason the world even has Hawks. You're the reason they still have..." he inhaled a sharp breath, "...Keigo Takami. Without you, there's none of that hero shit. I'm yours first, hero second," he said like a guilty child. He was vulnerable.

You extended your hands to meet his stubbly face, chasing away his tears with your thumbs. You didn't mind seeing him cry, but that didn't mean you liked it either.

There was so much guilt, so much self-resentment, distress and loneliness inside of Keigo. You made him feel human and alive like he no longer had to be a shell of himself to exist around others. He was aware he was dropping that responsibility onto you, and that it wasn't fair to keep pushing you to accept him and all his baggage, but he knew that you would, selfishly hoping that you would never change your mind.

"Kei..." you spoke softly and sighed. "I just want you to do the right thing."

"I will," he says, knowing you both knew it was a lie. He would continue to pick you over everything if he was given the choice.

Keigo kissed you. Not just a quick peck to settle the argument, no; he kissed you until he couldn't breathe. He was yearning to capture the tiniest bit of your love for him, of your affection, just to satiate his sick mind.

You kissed back, but it wasn't enough for the greedy hero. Keigo grew needier, moving his hands from your face to your torso, caressing your breasts as best as he could through the fabric of your shirt and your bra. He needed you. He needed you to be all over him, a mess, so he could forget his mistakes and feel good.

You started to slowly give in, pushing your bodies together until Keigo was between your thighs. His feathers rustled together feeling the contact from his clothed dick to your crotch as he grinded on you gently. The attention he was giving you was priceless, and you felt adoration from every touch of his fingertips.

"I need you baby, come on, give it to me," he muttered against your lips, trailing them from your mouth to your neck. He wanted you to want it as much as he did before he did anything. Keigo was a gentleman after all.

He elicits gentle moans from you as he sucks on your neck, having slipped one hand under your bra to play with your breast as the other one rested on your thigh, holding you in place while he rocked his lower body against yours. "Please," he pleads once more.

"Kei, come on, you're teasing," you whined as his index came in contact with your nipple. He smirked. Your tone, your now needy body, your flushed face, your words... could raise his ego to the heavens way more than his hero status. Every time. Without fail.

Keigo picked you up from your waist placing you on the table. "You want it babybird? Hm? You want me fucking pounding your little cunt until you can't form a sentence? Is that what you want?" Even though his dirty talk was engulfed in lust, it was simply to rile you up, to make you as desperate for him as he wanted. In reality, his words were dripping in love, a different tone than when you're casually having sex.

"Answer me, hm? Tell me, love, is that what you want? Is that what your pussy needs from me, baby?" he continues, holding your jaw tightly to force you to look at him. Just like in arguments, he's very strong on eye contact.

"Yes, please, Kei, you're making me wait."

Keigo chuckled softly. "Yeah, I know... I know baby," he said as he felt a wave of sadness take over him. He removed your top first, following with your bra as you pawed at his shirt, silently asking for him to take it off which he did. He knew skin-to-skin was important to you. Keigo followed with your bottoms and the last remaining piece of your underwear before discarding the rest of his own clothing, all while keeping his mouth on yours. He was mixing up sadness and desperation in his mind, as well as relief, pain, love, and care.

How dare he call himself a man. How dare he call himself a hero.

Holding back his tears, he kept your legs open around him and his hands firmly placed on your hips to stop you from wriggling, entering you with full intent. You could sense something was wrong judging by his emotionally pained expression and by his sudden change of tone and pace. Keigo needed this, truly, but felt he would break down any minute now.

"Baby," you spoke up, but he just shook his head.

"No. Shut up, I'm fine, just let me have this, please," his voice cracked. He was not fine. But he wanted this.

Keigo began to rock his body against yours, jaw locking at the pleasure. His sadness transformed into anger, not towards you, but towards himself. His hips snapped against yours, pathetic moans and whines escaping your mouth with every one of his movements.

He felt okay shortly after for the first time in the night. He was in his own personal heaven, there, right between your legs, making you feel good, making you writhe under his touch. He could die happy knowing he could make you feel this good.

You clawed at Keigo's back, right under his wings so as to not hurt the more delicate feathers of them. He was in too much bliss to talk and knew you were too. The way the head of his cock hit your cervix just right, and your spongy walls throbbed against his length drove him insane. A throbbing, shaky, moaning mess under him, and the sight alone could make him cum anytime.

Keigo reached a hand down to play with your clit, making slow circles around it. He didn't want to overstimulate you, just bring you close to his orgasm.

"You gonna cum baby? Y-You gonna cum all over my cock? God, you feel so fucking heavenly," he whined and moaned. He was twitching inside you and was waiting for you to be close to release.

"Mh- K-Keigo- I-"

He smirked and shushed you gently, his mouth next to your ear with his body slumped over. "C-Cum for me princess, my pretty baby."

Keigo's thrusts became irregular as he felt you tighten around him and the slick from your orgasm drip down in between his thighs, the feeling making him cum as deep as he could, holding you close with his arms. He mumbled through his high.

"'Gonna protect you. 'M gonna offer you the world babybird. I'll make it worth it. I'll make it worth it..."

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[mianiz]

take time to watch this video about hanni and hyein... please, guys. tell me you're feeling the same way i do right now.

twotolz hits my heart deeper than any friendships hanni and hyein have in the group.

why? because for me, these two are more vulnerable.

recently in X(formerly known as twitter), SNL Korea has uploaded a video that parodies the day when hanni was at the national assembly. In that video, it was clear they were mocking hanni to the extreme, and if not, being racist towards her accent. from copying her accent, her blue corral performance outfit, and her crying during the last parts at the national assembly. a lot of us voiced out our thoughts and fury towards SNL Korea, for being so reckless, racist, and unkind.

we all know about this, and so, moving on to our precious maknae, hyein.

hyein, as we know, is the youngest in the group and she has taken everything seriously and thus has been so quiet for the past few days. tbf, not only her but also haerin. these two have been so quiet and many of us are more than worried for our maknaes. that's why we started hyein's hashtag that she created years back.

i'm doing this because what they've gone through made me realize so many things.

being a tokki is so, so hard. but never boring.

we see how many people are cruel, ruthless, racist, vile, disgusting, and more that i can't even list down to women and young people, esp young girls. it hurts to see newjeans experiencing so many things even before their debut till now, but there's something that i can say so proudly.

newjeans are never one to die when pressured badly by others.

no, they are the ones who make themselves strong, and they also mentioned countless times that WE are also their strength.

now, i have been their fan ever since the end promotion of super shy era. i may not know truly what happened to them too well before, but i have eyes and i know who is lying and telling the truth.

they've gone through a lot of things, but i am so damn proud of them.

there's never a day where i don't feel happiness, joy, pain, excitement, thrill, and the eagerness to see them everywhere. every time i see them, i feel beyond happy.

returning back to the actual topic, twotolz has already imprinted itself into my heart. their every moment, even if it is little and small, it is very.. so damn precious to me. they're so precious, and i cherish them so much. i yearn to see more of the two interacting because what they have is much bigger and different.

anyways... stan newjeans y'all <3

also being a fan of newjeans is not for the weak heart and mind, i'm telling you from the bottom of my toes.

[httpseungmxn]

Pure Hatred

Idol!Lee Know X Idol!Female Reader

🍧🍰 - angst and suggestive

Authors Note: Welcome back in my lovely Angels! Hitting you with the next fic in our poll series, a angsty-suggestive lee know fic! It took me forever to decide how I was going to start this so please accept my apologies on the delay! I hope you all enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing this! <3

Warnings: Bully!Lee Know for a brief period of time, “baby” is used as an insult as well as “weak”, reader and lee know have a run in with a sasaeng,  use of pepper spray, 911 is called, steamy makeout, chest and ass groping, reader is later called “pretty kitten”

Triggers: Sasaengs, so craziness basically for a brief period of time! Mentions of a gun! And i think thats it 

You didn’t know why Lee Know hated you so much. There really wasn’t any reason for the man to hate you. Sure you had joined the group rather late, right before their big comeback, and you became one of their visuals but that wasn’t something to hate someone over.

 How could you tell he hated you? The look of complete and utter disgust he had every time he looked at you, or how he yelled at you a little more louder than the others when you messed up. You were constantly being called “weak”. It must be his favorite word for you because every time you messed up, it was the only thing he muttered.

You didn't hate him back. No matter how disgusted by you he seemed. You could never hate the man back. It was quite the opposite actually. You loved Lee Know. No. You were in love with Lee Know. You couldn't quite pin-point when you had fallen for him, but you were head over heels. He was so kind to the members, and he always worked his hardest to make sure everything was perfect.

You looked up to him as a mentor, he was so good at dancing and you were…well you weren't terrible. He had helped you a lot though. Despite seeming to hate you. He always made sure his teammates were their best and knew what they were doing.

Which is why you were both thrilled and upset that you were paired with Lee Know to go retrieve the group's lunch from the designation they ordered from, after a long game of rock-paper-scissors. A few words were muttered under his breath that you could make out as, “ Great, I got paired up with the baby. ”

While you were beaming at your group and waving them goodbye, Lee Know was rolling his eyes with a scoff and walking away from you. Quick to catch up to him with a smile still, you spoke up to him. 

“ I'm glad we were chosen to go! We don't get a lot of time to hang out together. ”

He didn't reply. Instead choosing to completely ignore it, as if he was ignoring you. You knew he wasn't though because you caught him glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. In a way you were relieved you had caught the glance, but you were also used to this at this point. Lee Know trying his hardest to ignore your existence.

You figured this would be just a normal, quiet walk to the destination. It was only about two blocks over and you both had dressed exactly how you dressed when going to the airport. Surely no one would recognize you while you looked like this, right. Oh how you desperately wished you were right.

How wrong you were. In a matter of seconds, a girl was rushing at you full force with something black in her hands. You didn't get a good look at it but from the panicked look Lee Know had when he pulled you out of the way, you could tell it was a gun. There was so much fear in his voice and eyes as he called your name to gather your attention. 

Your pepper spray was ripped from your keychain and held up as the girl came charging at you again, feeling fear as Lee Know was forced to use it on her. Worried about the girl when she let out a cry of pain despite knowing what she was trying to do to you. That's right. She hadn't been going after Lee Know. The gun had been aimed at you each time she went running. She wanted you to be in pain.

Your brain was spinning as Lee Know pulled out his phone and called 911 as quickly as he could. Glad he had pulled you into an alley a ways away from the girl. Eyes of fear staring up at him as he hung up the call with the operator. You had never been in a position like this before. It was presumed you were the fan favorite because nobody ever seemed to make any comments towards you.

Lee Know must've seen the fear in your eyes and felt pity for you. His arms automatically wrapping around you to give you an ounce of comfort to calm you down so you didn't cry. Your cries would probably only annoy him more. Your voice picking up to ask him something. Surely you were going to ask if he had been in this position before, but you didn't, instead you asked him a question he hated to hear.

“ Why do you hate me, Minho? ”

Your voice sounded so beautiful saying his name. The way it rolled right off your tongue had Lee Know in a trance. His whole being softened at your words. Suddenly feeling guilty for making you think such a thing. How could he have been so stupid?

“ I don't hate you. ”  “ But why do you look at me like you hate me? And why do you act so differently towards me? Surely you must hate me. You don't treat the others how you tre- ”, your words were cut off by a sentence you never expected to hear. “ I'm in love with you. ”

Your eyes widening, and your cheeks turning pink had Lee Know understanding why you had always followed him around so much. You felt the exact same way. He was dumb though and never caught onto it. Instead he had treated you badly because he never thought you would feel positively towards him.

There was no hesitation in Lee Know's actions as his lips met yours. You needed this. You needed something positive after almost being gunned down by a crazed fan. The way his lips molded so perfectly to yours had you seeing stars and holding onto him so your knees wouldn't buckle.

Gripping at his shirt as you kissed him back deeply. Hands sliding over his chest, pulling at his shirt for a moment before sliding your hands up his shirt to rest them against his pecs. While your hands had traveled upwards, his had traveled downwards. They had started at your cheeks but now they were gripping at your ass. Holding two handfuls of it and pulling you right against him.

“ i never hated you. I've always been in love with you, my pretty kitten. ”

If his lips had you red before, that sentence turned you into a complete tomato. You had never once been called something so sweet before. Sure the members always called you their little baby, or their star, but it was never in the same tone Lee Know had just used. They meant it in a friendly way, while Minho spoke with such love and care.

You couldn't help but thank fate for giving you such an opportunity. For giving you Lee Know.

Authors ending note; what did you Angels think? I think I did pretty well considering I’m not too terribly great at angst, but its the one I write the most. I really wanted to get Lee Know through but he’s the one I struggle with playing occasionally, so hopefully this wasn’t too off. Next is our last fic in the pole series and probably the smuttiest one, our Jins Homecoming fic! I actually wanted to have it out a few days after he was released but that didn’t happen unfortunately! Expect the fic to be out within the next two weeks though! Until then my sweet Angels 🫶

[clownrecess]

Something that I think a lot of people don't know about and don't talk about enough is that loosing oral speech can and if for a long enough time, will damage your vocal cords.

I can attest to the fact that there are many challenges that come with not being able to speak orally. One of the lesser-known consequences of prolonged loss of oral speech is the potential damage it can cause to one's vocal cords. When someone stops using their vocal cords to make speech, the muscles can weaken, and the vocal cords themselves can atrophy. This process is similar to what happens when you break a bone. You are put into a cast, ergo that limb is immobilized. If you don't use the limb for a long time, the muscles will weaken, and you may need to do physical therapy to regain strength and range of motion. In the same way, if someone doesn't use their vocal cords for an extended period, they may need to do speech therapy to help with the deterioration of vocal cords. I do want to quickly note that I haven't been put in speech therapy for this reason before (though I have been in speech therapy for other reasons, of course).

The first time I lost speech for a long period of time was when I was 10-12 (I cant remember the exact age right now, I'm sorry. I know I've listed it in other posts if you are curious though, but if you don't want to check, just know it was somewhere in that age range. My brain is feeling "fuzzy" with time this morning.) and it was for four months. Once I regained some mouth words, my vocal cords were extremely weak and difficult to use. My speech was practically unintelligible for a bit. The first thing I had said was "Do we have woodpeckers?" because I heard a noise outside that sounded like them (news flash, it wasnt woodpeckers. Woodpeckers arent even in my state so I don't know what was going through my head.), but due to the weakness in my vocal cords it sounded more like "da-wee...ave.. w-ah-pehck..ehs?". It was painful to use my oral voice, I was straining it just to say that sentence. It was extremely quiet, and shaky. I also was unable to control my breathing (not my normal breathing. I mean the breathing patterns required to use oral speech), causing a lot of gaps between speech sounds.

I obviously don't know what my oral voice sounds like now, but I can feel it getting weaker again when I hum as a stim.

It's important for people to understand that losing oral speech is not just a matter of finding a different way to communicate; it can have significant and lasting impacts on our physical health as well.

[crybyemissamericanpie]

Old friend - Mike Schmidt x gn!reader (angst)

Old friend - Mike Schmidt x gn!reader (angst)

TW:Mention of suicide attempts,Mention of abuse,Bit of cursing

The office was thick with tension as Mike met their gaze, the lingering smell of coffee seemingly in line with the general ambience of the room.

While others may have assumed there was a deeper layer of resentment at work, the truth was that there was simple too much pride involved between the two of them to acknowledge any animosity.

Mike spoke up first, voice low and carrying a hint of tension in it, “I’m doing my job perfectly fine, I don’t understand why they brought you in."

They were no strangers to eachother and they had some history too,they knew each other way back in high school,they weren't in good condition now for sure

"You fell asleep on the job"They says looking at Mike with a calm face

“I was resting my eyes…” Mike murmured,annoyed “They look just the same as closed ones, anyway.”

He shifted in his seat, the chair letting off a slight creak. Mike hated this place with a passion, the night-shift being too quiet and lonely for comfort, so he had always taken to having a nap whenever possible. It was a wonder the boss hadn’t caught on by now…but suddenly an old ex-friend of his decides to show up,and get the job just to be with him“You and I have been through this song and dance before…”He said.silence fills the room

"We both fucked up okay?you don't have to always bring up the past"They say,frustrated.Looking down at Mike who is sitting infront of the desk with the cameras to the whole place

“What exactly have I ever done wrong?” Mike demanded, voice low - although more out of his general dislike of speaking.

The truth was, he and them had always been the same,both just as stubborn as each other and too proud to concede on anything.

“I’m not the one who left my responsibilities to chase a boy.” Mike muttered,looking away from their eye trying not to hold eye contact.

Mike and Their fathers really liked each other so they grew up together,but when both of their parents died, something clicked inside of them

They stays quiet for a moment,looking at Mike

"I was going through something too, you know what it was...And yeah I chased a boy! Yeah! I left my whole life behind me for a boy that just ruined me,cheated on me and abused me physically and mentally and I was left broken."They burst out

"I didn't get in contact with you cause I knew that I couldn't even take care of myself not even you and Abby,i didn't wanna give both of you another hard thing, to deal with also with me. When I accepted of what happened I tried helping cause I knew that I could finally help and not just be a distraction"They says,their eyes full of hope

Mike stayed stone-still as he listened to your sudden and lengthy explanation, mind racing with different thoughts and reactions. His own mothers hadn’t been fond of them either, although there weren’t any concrete reasons for their dislike they simply “had a feeling”.

He considered their words for a long moment.he understood their struggle, and understood why they did what they did. But they couldn’t run from your responsibilities when it came to family, and leaving Abby behind didn’t help any.

“You could’ve tried a bit harder.” Mike muttered eventually.

They sigh"mike.listen here, I tried to kill myself a lot in that time but do you know why I didn't do it?Because of you and Abby,cause I knew and thaught that if I'm in a better place of mind I could help and you would accept it"They confesses hardly and a bit harshly,their eyes darting into his trying to not shed a tear

“I understand that….” Mike mumbled, shifting his weight uncomfortably in his seat. He hadn’t known that they had dealt with anything close to that, but now he could see the toll it had taken on them.

Mike didn’t want to seem weak, despite his true thoughts and feelings on the situation, “It’s still not great that you just left us like that. What if I needed you?”

"I would have been a distraction,I couldn't help you or Abby if I didnt know how to help myself,I would have been just another ton of weight on your back for you to worry about"They say,trying to keep their breath steady

“And I wasn’t a distraction to you?” Mike demanded, voice louder than before out of spite.

He couldn’t help but feel hurt by some of their words - they were true, yes, and they had certainly done the right thing by staying away at that time, but it still sucked that they hadn’t kept in touch with him or Abby.

“You left me, and Abby, and we didn’t hear anything from you for years!” Mike pointed out.

"Bullshit,I sent birthday cards and holiday cards everyday with a small stupid qoute on it and my name!"They said fighting for justice ,for mike to realize that they arent that bad that mike think they are

“You think cards meant anything to me? You know Abby, she loved those cards, she used to read them over and over as if they were some kind of message of hope,” Mike said, voice softening.

“But for me? They only served as a reminder that my best friend had left.” Mike murmured.

"I was ashamed of who I was of what have I become,I moved country side,I had food delivery,I had a job that I didn't have to talk to people and stay in my house and just write, I would have never had a thought that maybe I could show up to your guys house"They whisper and admit,they were dreaned at the time,mentally and that made them sick

they wouldnt get out of bed,brush teeth,eat,work out,cook.

do anything.basically.

But Mike didnt know that even after they confess,he would never understand,he saw them just as a person who cut him and Abby out of their life without saying goodbye and now suddenly wants to come back or...

Mike thought about it for a moment, considering their words and what they had gone through.

He knew the feeling of shame, and the weight that accompanied it, and knew how hard it was to escape from that place.

Still, no matter the reason, they had left his only sister for years without a word although they had suffered, what right did they have to do that to not even Mike but Abby?

“Why did you come back?” Mike asked,raising an eyebrow as he looks up at them

"im-..."They sigh"im here to help you guys,i talked to Abbys teacher and im worried and finally i can help"They say

silence.

Mike furrows his eyebrows,a bit of guilt washes over him but he tries to ignore it

"you dont have to accept,if you want me to never talk to you or abby ever again and just keep sending cards,ill do it."They say as they look into his eyes

He sighs"We dont need your help.You can leave"Mike mutters under his breath

They nod and walk out of the office.

The guilt was still on Mikes heart but he didnt trust them now,he didnt want them to come back to their life and then leave like a building

Mike just sat there and thought was he right was he wrong?questions filled his head but his choice was final.he sees them leave throught the cameras,getting into their car ,then driving away...