#mixed troupe plays
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lhswon · 3 months ago
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CRAZY TIPS = CRAZY FEELINGS { l.hs }
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ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: wherein, heeseung is a player, a fuck boy, and a rich one too which is all what y/n hates about a man. y/n in contrast is a broke college student who barely makes a living to pay up her rent and college tuition. despite years of being in the same university as heeseung, they never had any interactions until the day heeseung finally laid his eyes on y/n who works on the counter at some nightclub and started leaving her with some crazy cash tips.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: yandere!lee heeseung x tsundere!fem!reader
ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: non!idol, enemies (one sided) to lovers troupe, kinda slow burn, teeth-rotting fluff, heeseung is a softie, you and enha are in the same age for the sake of the plot
ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: lots cursing, suggestive scenes (mdni!), fighting, drinking, smoking, mention of substances, family issues, mention of SA, display of dominance and possessiveness, heeseung is always jealous (lmk if i missed any!)
ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙬𝙘: unknown (as of now :D)
ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: whoop whoop. wrote this au the moment i saw that video of hee drinking whiskey in a party :D man he was HOT i couldn't stop myself from making this. ALSO BIG NOTE, none of this reflect the idols mentioned in real life. this is only a FICTION and for entertainment purposes only.
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𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘂𝗲
the loud music and people's chaotic cheering and murmuring were the ones that welcomed heeseung and his friends, along with the mixed smell of alcohol, perfumes, and smoke from cigarettes. it was already 2:00 am but it seemed a bit more early for the people inside the club, the energy was just insane.
as they walked to find their own spot, heeseung constantly sees people making out on the spot which made him smirk a bit. his initial plan was to find someone to hook up with tonight. it was their midterm interlude after all, he needed to relax and he wanted to start by hooking up.
"i'll order us some drinks, what do you guys want?" jake remained standing while the rest of them sat at the circular couch.
"i want just want some rum." sunghoon said. jay said he wanted the same thing.
"sunoo hyung and i will just have some whiskey." jungwon followed, raising his left hand up and pointed to sunoo next to him.
"what about you, seung?" jake asked.
"just get me some scotch, please and thank you." heeseung said and jake nodded before leaving.
while jay and sunghoon was talking something about their academics, sunoo and jungwon was just chatting why their youngest, niki, recently failed his long test and have to go through intensive tutoring as of the moment.
heeseung on the other hand wandered his eyes around and when he catched a glimpse of jake on the counter, he followed him using his eyes and his breathing hitched when he saw your angelic face giving small smiles to jake as he leans in to tease you.
"come on, do you really have to work tonight? i can pay your manager so he would let you drink with me." the man in front of you insisted. you subtly gave him a 'are-you-fucking-serious' look before brushing his statement off with an awkward chuckle.
"i'm sorry sir, but we are currently short on staffs so everyone needs to play their parts." you gave him a small smile before handing him the bottles he ordered.
"oh come on, don't call me sir. don't act like you do not go to the same university as me." jake chuckled sexily which made you secretly scoff.
you have to admit, jake is attractive, hot even, but he's just way out of your league. he's hot, he's rich, he's an academic achiever, and lives almost a perfect life, plus he's a play boy which is a big no no for you. he's just everything you hate about men.
"i can't jake, i have to work. now, please do get off the counter, i have other customers to serve other than you." you said bravely and gave him a fake smile which made jake smirk. your feisty attitude just turns him on.
after successfully shooing away jake sim, you suddenly felt eyes watching you. you wandered your eyes around and you choked on air when you realize that the pair of eyes watching, and staring at you darkly was heeseung's. one of your schoolmate and friend of jake.
the way heeseung stared at you darkly made you panic. his piercing eyes never leaving you even before you saw jake put down the drinks they ordered. you're like a prey, recognized by the predator. he only diverted his gaze when jake called him, handing him his drink. you too, were nudged by your co-worker.
"you okay?" red asked. she's your co-worker, also your work buddy. you nodded and cleared your throat.
"if you're tired already, you should rest. you're about to end your shift anyways." she suggested while you nodded.
you chatted with her a bit before going to the staff room to change, get your things, and time yourself out from work. the moment you exited the club using the back door, you immediately hugged yourself due to cold. you could see the smoke coming out of your mouth as you breathe. not even the padded jackets could easily warm you up in this cold weather.
you walked through the parking lot to find your second-hand car when you saw two shadow beside your car, making out. it made you mentally scoff, out of all places, why beside yours?
it was cold and already late, you have no choice but to walk towards your car. as you finally get close to the scene, you yet again saw those familiar piercing eyes from heeseung when he watched over you while still kissing the girl in front of him. since the girl was leaning on your car, you couldn't really go without her getting off first so you coughed awkwardly.
"oh, sorry!" the girl squeeled.
finally, they stopped kissing and the girl giggled, as if she's happy that someone had just caught her making out in the parking lot. heeseung on the other hand stayed silent and watched over you intently.
"i'm sorry." you said politely as you bowed your head before moving to open the door of your car. you were about to head inside when you heard the girl murmured something.
"this car is trash, right hee?"
your eyes twitched from what the girl said. slowly, you turned to her with a small smile.
"well look who's talking, you'll just be as dirty as a trash when this man throws you away like a garbage after using you." you said before getting inside your car and starts your engine.
the girl was shocked while heeseung smirked at your attitude. without knowing, you just picked heeseung's interest, and it was the on switch for his yandere era to begin.
check out the chapter 1 here
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jk-kiwi · 1 month ago
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Snowbound
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Snowbound (18+)
Characters - bf JK x gf reader (woman) 
Genre - first love troupe, romance, fluff, smut, angst and jealousy, drama, first vacation away, THIS is fiction!
Summary - The emotional journey of a couple who face growing tensions in their relationship during their first winter vacation.
Warnings - jealousy, big arguments, kinda possessive JK, both are 18, first time away from parents, JK snowboarding (is this really a warning? After ‘Are you sure?’ probably yes), implied that reader is shorter than Jungkook, reader is kinda temperamental, fictional characters that might get on your nerves, misunderstandings and mixed feeling, the end might be a little rushed idk.
Warnings for the not so holy parts (18+) - both are pretty inexperienced!, first time, kissing/making out, use of protection!, description of male and female body parts, premature ejaculation, they are pretty clumsy, fingering and oral (f rec), brief bj (like 1 sec), some cockblocking, hickeys.
MINORS PLEASE STAY AWAY!
Author’s note - Pushed matchmaker pt2 away for this one, Christmas is here after all. Merry Christmas everyone! Enjoy!
Word count - 10.2k
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Warm clothes, checked. Toiletries, checked. Some good games to play with your boyfriend, also checked! “Hm, this should be everything!” you say, neatly wrapping the last few items you need, as well as your boyfriend's present, before zipping up your suitcase. “Darling! Are you ready, Jungkook is here!” your mom screams from downstairs making excitement bubble inside you. “Coming!” you exhale relieved looking at your baggage, a small smile drawn on your lips. It’s finally time. Your first vacation alone, only you and your boyfriend.
You grab your suitcase, dragging it behind as you go down the stairs. In front of your door, your mom and Jungkook casually chit chat. He looks up as you appear, his face lighting up, his hands immediately come in help as he picks up your suitcase with ease. “There you go. Are you sure you got everything?” he asks, knowing how clumsy you can be, especially while being so excited about this trip. 
You nod enthusiastically, though a part of you can’t help mentally double-checking. “I think I got everything.” you say with a grin.
“Don’t whine later if you can find your socks, I won’t share.” your mom chuckles at you two, looking with so much love in her eyes. “My kids are all grown up. I still remember that one time you snuck out the window just to see your boy.” “Mom!” you whine while her and Jungkook just laugh. “It’s been four years already, you are 18 now, close to finishing highschool and taking a big step in your lives.” she says in a nostalgic but sad tone, adoringly admiring you two. “And now you are big enough to go somewhere alone.” You sigh slightly, taking your mom into a warm embrace. “It’s not like we will be gone forever, it’s just a 5 day getaway.” Your mom chuckles, her warmth lingering as you pull away. “Still, don’t forget to call everyday!” “And no funny business, understood!” she says with a stern voice, turning to face Jungkook who’s ears grow slightly red. “We will be good kids, don’t worry!” you say while urging the boy out the door. “Alright, go on, have fun! And send pictures!” she yells, her expression softening as she watches the two of you step outside. “When did they grow so much?” she mumbles from the doorway. The car is already warmed up, and you can see Jungkook’s snowboard strapped securely to the roof. “Got your board, huh?” “Well, I’m planning to impress a girl, how else should I do it?” You laugh, rolling your eyes. “You’re such a show off.” He laughs too, before opening the passenger door for you to enter, with quick steps he gets on the other side, entering the driver’s seat. “Alright, let’s go!” he says while taking over the road. The atmosphere was cozy, the radio played Christmas carols while you enjoyed how beautiful the snow was settling onto the ground. You look to your left, admiring Jungkook’s features. The way his voice softly hums along the songs, while focused eyes never break contact with the road ahead. Jungkook glances over at you briefly, catching your gaze for a moment. "What?" he asks with a small, teasing smile. “Nothing, just admiring you.” you laugh, a little embarrassed by being caught so fast.
"It’s perfect, isn’t it? Finally some time away, just the two of us.” The way he says it, so softly, makes your heart flutter a little. You nod, settling back into your seat. “It feels like a dream, to be honest. Never thought our parents would let us go like this.”
Jungkook chuckles softly, his fingers moving to gently rub your thigh. “I know, right? It feels like we’re breaking some rules.” he snickers. “Well, they probably expected this to happen sooner or later, we’ve been together for four years now. They can’t keep us apart anyway.” "But I guess they’ve been waiting for us to grow up too." you tone down your voice and Jungkook nods thoughtfully, his thumb gently brushing against your leg as he keeps his eyes on the road. “I think they trust us enough now.” he says quietly. The atmosphere around you two gets silent. You feel all grown up in a way. It kinda scares you, all these changes. You glance out the window, watching the snowflakes melt onto the glass. It feels like it’s been just yesterday, the day you fell in love with Jungkook. You were both young and stupid, not exactly knowing what love was about, but your friends started experimenting and you felt big enough to enter that path as well. You had rough patches, with ugly crying and fights, but somehow, you both always found a way back to each other. Sweet and memorable moments being much better remembered. Now, as you sit beside him, you realize how far you’ve come. How the kids who once thought that they had love came to the realisation that the meaning itself it’s much deeper. You’re no longer those two teenagers who snuck up every time they got just to share some secret kisses, or the naive couple that got so embarrassed when their parents caught them cuddling way too close on the couch. Now, you’re standing on the edge of adulthood, rushing to enter the last slope of school, and ready to take on what life has to further offer. “Have you got back any response?” “Huh?” you break out of your ‘down the memory lane’ haze, looking at Jungkook, who’s glancing at you with a curious expression. “The early college application?” “Oh, right…no, no answer yet.” you shut down the topic quickly. There’s a pause for a moment as you bite your lip in guilt. Both you and Jungkook were excellent students, because of this you decided to early apply for colleges. He got his response last week, his dream of going to one of the top universities in Korea coming true. He’s got into Yonsei. You, however…had a little secret. And you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him. You had received a response for Yonsei as well, a day after his. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be accepted, the problem was that you both promised to go to the same uni, so it will be easy to move out and to look after eachother, and you were looking forward to that…until. You received a letter the day you were supposed to let your lover know about the thrilling news. One of your projects got recognition. Not just any recognition, but an offer to study abroad on a scholarship…at Harvard. 
You were thrilled when the coordinating teacher pulled you into his office to give you the good news. It was an opportunity that could shape your entire future, the kind of chance people only dream of.
The excitement was overwhelming, but the timing was bad. So you got stuck with two options, either taking your way in life, an opportunity of a lifetime, but the price you had to pay put you away from family, friends and Jungkook, or being close to your lover, but possibly, regretting not taking the chance of something so big when you had to. So, you resumed not telling Jungkook, until now…when the place needs to be confirmed and the guilt of wanting to go to Harvard instead, taking over. You took a deep breath as the car bumps along the snowy road. Jungkook glanced over at you, sensing the sudden shift in your mood. “What’s wrong, love? We are almost there, do you want to make a stop? Are you not feeling good?” the boy asks, concerned.
You felt bad, you didn’t want to hurt him, didn’t want him to feel betrayed or confused, and for sure you wanted this vacation to be perfect and memorable. 
You shake your head softly, giving him a small smile. "No, it's nothing, might be just from the excitement.” You hope the lie sounds convincing, but deep down, you know it’s the last thing you should be doing, you’ve kept this secret and lied enough. It seemed to have worked though, he shrugged and continued on the road, taking a last turn before the view of the cabin in which you will remain for the next few days began to take shape. 
The car pulls into the driveway and you eagerly jump out once the engine is silent. The crunch of the snow beneath your feet and the dancing snowflakes that were falling around you made the place seem magical. “I’ll get the bags!” Jungkook says as he lets you enjoy winter just a little more. He grins, clearly happy to see you so excited. It felt freeing, being away from everything, forgetting responsibilities for a brief second.
You get lost in the view, wandering around while your man carries everything inside. The place was beautiful, a lot of snow, and the trees were so tall you would think their peak could scrape the sky above. 
The air felt fresh and crisp, your eyes taking in the beauty of the quiet wilderness when suddenly, your foot catches on something. “Oh!” you stumble forward, arms flailing to regain balance as you fall face down into the snow. “Omg, are you okay?” you hear a voice from behind, big hands wrapping around your arms to lift you back and onto the ground. You blink, still a bit flustered, the snow melting with the warmth of your face. The boy crouches down to pick your hat, shaking the remaining frozen fluff off.
“Uh, thank you…” you shyly whisper when his hands offer back the piece of clothing. “No problem.” he laughs lightly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I guess this place can be a bit tricky with all the snow and hidden rocks.”
“One minute you're admiring the view, next thing you know you’re stumbling over something. You should be more careful.” the boy beams a breathtaking smile your way making you blush in embarrassment. “I’ll keep that in mind.” you softly respond trying to get away from such awkward situation. “I’m Yohan, by the way.” You nod, taking in the casual, confident vibe he gives off. “I’m Y/N.” You glance up at him, he was good looking, not better than your Jungkook, but still eye- catching. His hair was a chocolate brown color, a little messy, with bangs almost covering his eyes, and even though he was taller than your lover, his body was not as shaped. Yohan nods “Nice meeting you Y/N.” he smiles once more “If you need any tips about the area, feel free to ask. I come here at least three times a year, I know the area like the back of my hand.” You give him a polite smile before letting him lead the way back to the cabins. Once there you wave before rushing inside, your head coming in contact with Jungkook’s firm chest right before entering.
"Everything okay?" he asks, his gaze a little more focused than usual. Your cheeks burn up, but you can’t hide the fact that you are wet, cold and still full of snow. Jungkook raises an eyebrow as he looks over your frame, taking in Yohan’s back as he fades in the distance. “Did that guy do something to you?” You quickly shake your head, trying to brush off the uncomfortable tension that builds in the air. "No, no! I stumbled and fell, he only helped me up and back to this place.” you explain, forcing a smile. "That's all."
Jungkook's gaze lingers on you for a moment before pulling your frame into the house, the warmth of the cabin wrapping around you. He unzips his suitcase, putting out the first towel he sees and wrapping you in it. “You need to change, you’ll catch a cold at this rate.” You look at him throughout your lashes, looking like a wet puppy that follows his owner’s instructions after they get scolded.
"Thanks." you mutter, touched by the way he’s looking after you. You make your way toward the small bathroom to change and wash up. Jungkook watches you for a moment, still concerned over what happened. 
“Take your time love, I’ll start the fire in the meantime!” he calls out as you close the bathroom door. You breathe in deeply before getting rid of your cold clothes and stepping inside the steamy shower. 
As you step out of the bathroom, fully dressed in warm attire, you see Jungkook kneeling by the fireplace, his hands warming up in front of it. You come closer, keeling and wrapping your arms around him, from behind. Your head rests on his back while his fingers gently caress yours. 
"Feel better?" he asks without turning, making you hum, nuzzling your nose on the nape of his neck. "Much better," you reply while raising up, walking over to sit on the couch, curling your feet underneath you.
The boy watches you, before rising to his feet, the warmth of the fire casting a soft glow on his features. He walks over and sits beside you, pulling you into his lap. You comply and sit in his warm arms. 
You smile when he rubs his cheek on the side of your head, his muscles flexing tighter around you. “It’s getting late.” You glance at the clock on the wall, noticing that the evening has settled in.
Jungkook gently runs his fingers through your hair, his lips brushing lightly against your neck. "Do you want to go to bed, or stay up for a bit longer?" he asks in a low tone, arms loosened up to rest on your thighs. 
You close your eyes, leaning back onto him, enjoying the slight intimacy you share. “How about we stay up a little longer.” you say once his fingers start to play with the hem of your pants. “And what do you plan on doing?” he asks, lips curving into a small grin against your neck. One of his hands slowly makes its way inside your pants, playing over the wet patch you developed on your underwear. You halt in his lap when his middle finger starts to rub little circles over your clothed clit. “Jungkook…” you whimper, making the boy shush you with a slow and tangy kiss. His two fingers dragging your wet underwear to the side to play with your slick folds. He manages to break a gasp from you when one of his digits rubs at your entrance. He slowly enters with one, ripping a loud moan from you. “Is this okay?” he manages to ask, sweat building on his forehead and the tent in his pants growing. “Y-yeah.” you manage to mutter between your moans. And as his second starts to make its way in, he knows he’s got you exactly where he wanted. 
His lips move back to your neck to suck a small, purple spot, marking what’s his. “You’re so hot, baby.” his fingers start moving faster and faster, his other hands pulling your pants down enough to access with ease. In a blink, his other fingers begin to gently rub your bundle of nerves, making you lose yourself to the feeling. Your vision clouds and a bunch of pretty stars start to appear as you let yourself go on your lover’s fingers. He drags them through your orgasm before stopping, letting you catch your breath in bliss. “You did so good, my love.” he coos, kissing your lips gently before taking his fingers out, bringing them to his lips to taste you. “Eww, Jungkook!” you both laugh as you get up from his lap, putting your underwear in place and your pants back on. You look towards your boy, his eyes praying over your figure, hard on sitting neatly on the side of his leg, the outline very visible. It’s not the first time you two do stuff like this, toying with each other. In four years you experimented when you got the chance and as puberty was also taking a toll on your hormones, you started to go even deeper down the path. From boring days at his place, when his parents were away, ending with him sloppily eating you out on the couch, to the late nights when you snuck up for a ride, after he’s got his license, just to messily blow his mind away in the back seat.
You were getting good at these things, and well, fingering, this was a newer one. Starting with him just slowly rubbing your sweet pussy to bring you to orgasm and advancing to plucking a finger or two into your tight wetness. The two of you were no strangers to intimacy, but somehow you still haven’t taken that big, big, step. You never had real sex. And deep down the both of you wanted to change that, wanting to feel the connections brew and tie you closer. You kneel down in front of him, taking the opportunity to maybe, just maybe take things a notch further. The boy licks his lips looking down at you with clouded eyes. You look up as well, asking for permission which you gladly get.
“Go on, baby.” his raspy voice makes your downstairs throb further, especially when he’s manspreading so deliciously to give you access.  
Your fingers untie the strings of his sweatpants, hand breaking in to pull out his hot cock. Tip red and leaking with fluid. You gulp stroking him a little, smearing his precum for some better lubrication. You lick your lips and bring yourself closer to his aching tip, but before you can wrap your mouth around him, a loud knock interrupts. You turn around, looking towards the door, silence. You huff thinking it was just some random noise. But when you turn back you only manage to touch his manhood with your lips before another knock, louder than the one before, stops you. You rise from the ground whining in annoyance alongside your boy. “Is this serious?! I’ll go and get it.”. Tucking a few strands of hair you make your way towards the door, while Jungkook goes to the bathroom to quickly solve his problem. “Yes?” you ask while only creaking the door slightly. You find Yohan and a random stranger at your door. “Hello, we are…oh Y/N!” his eyes sparkle when he takes a hold of your frame. “Yohan, what are you doing here? Especially this late?” you ask concerned, fully opening the door, glancing at the other man from time to time. “Well I told you I come here often. I work as a ranger, and we got notice of a blizzard so we came to announce and give supplies.”  
“The blizzard might be worse than we expect.” the ranger hops on the conversation, his voice calm but firm. “It’s not safe to be out, especially at night, and since we don’t know how long it will last, we need to be prepared.” “We’ll be fine, right?” you ask quietly. Yohan gives you a reassuring smile. “For sure, worst case you’ll have to stay in tomorrow, but other than that it’s not a major threat.” His hand comes closer to pat you on your shoulder in reassurance, but before he can reach you he stops. 
You look behind, finally taking in your boyfriend’s presence, chest puffing up and down, cheeks flustered and his hair messy wet. He looks over at you while wrapping an arm around your waist. “Everything okay?” “Yeah, the rangers brought supplies just in case, there will be a blizzard tonight. You might not snowboard tomorrow.” His expression hardens slightly, his eyes flicking outside to see the wind blowing quicker and quicker. “There are your supplies.” Yohan abruptly interrupts, his face cold all of a sudden. He lands Jungkook an emergency bag. “Thanks, Yohan.” you say softly, making the man smile brightly at you. “Of course. Just wanted to make sure you’re prepared!” his voice is professional, but the way he was absolutely trying to ignore your boyfriend was not. 
Jungkook must have noticed too, the way his arm brings you behind him, trying to guard you. “We’ll be fine, thank you for your service.” he harshly says before shutting the door in their face. 
He exhales annoyed, his jaw tightening. “Is that the guy who helped you earlier?” His voice is steady, but there’s something behind his tone that tells you he’s not entirely fine with how things went down.
“You mean Yohan, yes, he helped me...” You take a step toward him, latching your arm on his biceps, feeling how he relaxes under your touch. “I don’t like him. The way he was looking at you was weird.” You sigh, safe to say your man was jealous and pretty possessive over things that are ‘his’, you being at the top of the list.
You stare at him before rolling his eyes. “He was just being polite…” you mumble, making the man shake his head in disapproval “Just stay away from him.”
Frustration bubbles under your skin, but you keep quiet. This is supposed to be a nice and calm vacation, arguments and jealousies should be put aside. Not wanting to pick up a fight, you just sigh and head for the bed. After a few moments of silence, you hear Jungkook’s footsteps come into the room, his body crawling next to yours. “Tell me if you feel cold, we can notch up the fire.” you hum nesting your body into his arms. 
“Tomorrow.” Jungkook starts, his head resting gently on yours, “We’ll forget about all of this and just have fun, okay? This is our vacation.” he gently kisses your head before closing his eyes, you following right after.
The next day came in quite with a halt, waking up with your man behind the sheets and between your legs. Easy to say, he knew how to make you forget about the jealousy he had the other day, having you wrapped around his finger, a little too good. 
And after a quick shower and the very blissful morning you had, you felt ready to take on the day, finding out from the radio post that the blizzard got ‘postponed’ since the weather ‘magically’ got better overnight. Jungkook had already packed up his board, his enthusiasm contagious as he looked at you with a mischievous grin. “Are you that happy to go snowboarding?” you teasingly ask, making the man nod vigorously. You chuckle at his cuteness, grabbing his hand and going towards the slopes. Gearing you up as well since you didn’t have neither the equipment nor the experience in snowboarding. “I can’t wait to get up there!” Jungkook exclaimed, practically bouncing on his toes, waiting for the lift to ascend up the mountain. “It’s going to be so much fun!” he says, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. On the other hand, you felt worried. The idea of heading up the mountain with Jungkook, who was so confident and pretty skilled, only made your nerves worse. 
Lost in your thought you almost don’t feel the warm glove that wraps around yours. “I’m going to help you, so don’t be nervous on me, pretty.” His words made you feel a little better, he always knows how to comfort you. Once on the lift and up the mountain you actually started to feel really scared. All the confidence he gave you peeling away at instant. “Take a deep breath, and slowly go down, I will catch you if anything happens.” And you do, the speed taking over making you fall on your bum. Jungkook urged you to get up and try again, and again…and again…until you got really bored and upset about not catching up to at least 10% of his skills. But the man was unstoppable, the energy he was putting into this could be far more effective in other places. Taking your helmet on, blowing the few strands that got stuck to your forehead you are finally at the bottom of the trail, exhausted and sweaty. 
Your boy pulls next to you with a little show, stopping so abruptly the snow flies in the air. “Up for another round?” hell no! It took you more than two hours to go down this damn slope once, all while Jungkook did at least seven runs. “Don’t even think about it, I’d rather get hot cocoa than spend another two hours breaking my bones.” he laughs loudly, coming over to pat you on the head. “I will ride some more then, stay close so I can at least keep an eye if something happens.” he pecks your red nose taking over to the lift. You shake your head in disapproval, unbuckling from the board and moving towards the nice cafe situated over so conveniently in front of the trail.
You push open the door, instantly greeted by the warmth and the sweet aroma of freshly brewed coffee and hot pastries. It’s cozy, with wooden beams lining the ceiling and a roaring fire crackling in the corner. “One hot cocoa please!” grabbing the warm drink, topped with whipped cream and marshmallows you go outside to sit on one of the beanbags. You glance upward to spot Jungkook gliding down the slope with effortless ease, his movements fluid like water. “Enjoying the view?” a familiar voice pulls you from admiring your boyfriend. “Yohan?!” you say, surprised. “What are you doing here?” “Just grabbing a quick coffee before heading out to check the trails. Everything’s looking good after last night’s false blizzard alarm.” he laughs heartily, shaking his head at how ridiculous it must have been to announce a blizzard that never came. 
“Mind if I join you for a second?” he asks, his grin still in place. Before you can respond, he pulls the beanbag from across you and sits down. “So, no snowboarding for you today?” Yohan asks, signaling toward your boots, clearly unbuckled from the board. You smile softly, sipping from the hot drink. “I tried, but I’m nowhere as good as Jungkook, he’s the expert.” “Ah, I saw him earlier, the guy in full black. He’s good.” Yohan leans back, his eyes on you now. “Is he your man?” You pause mid-sip, his direct question catching you off guard. “Yes, he is.” “Seems like a real thrill seeker. How can you handle all that?” You bite your lip, unsure how to answer. "How can I handle all that?" you repeat, raising an eyebrow. "It's not really about handling it. I just let him be himself." You shrug, hoping to sound nonchalant. Was he only making conversation or was he trying to pick at your boyfriend? 
"Looks like he's having fun." Yohan observes, his gaze following the boy. "Yeah." you say, bothered by the way his subject was Jungkook "He's good at what he does." you whisper under your breath. “I wish I could go like that too, but being a ranger takes way too much of my time.”
“Plus it’s hard to get in touch with people, this is a resort so everyone just comes and goes, maybe once in a while I see familiar faces.”  He shrugs, slight disappointment leaching on his voice. "It must be tough, having to be away from family…” you stop for a second “and friends.” bitterness erupts in your chest, speaking so carefree about how hard it is to be away from everyone when you are about to do the same to the people you love. "Yeah, it can be. Sometimes I just wish I had a moment to kick back, you know?” He pauses, glancing over at you with a small smile. “But it’s also fun to meet the ones that come once in a lifetime.” You look at him with wide eyes, some blush creeping on your cheeks. You try to gather yourself, clearing your throat before taking a big gulp from your cup. "Sometimes it's the people you don’t expect that end up being the most memorable." he says looking over the slopes once again, seeing Jungkook rush down at full speed. “I think it’s time to go, your boyfriend is coming. Nice speaking with you, hope to see you later!” he says with a light grin and a wave, his eyes flicking to Jungkook, who’s now near the bottom of the hill. 
As Yohan walks away, you can’t help but feel a strange mix of emotions swirling inside you. You shake your head, trying to push the thoughts away, and focus on the sight of your boyfriend, taking off his goggles and helmet, looking seemingly pissed.
Jungkook stops just a few feet away, his gaze sharp, looking the way Yohan left. "Was that Yohan?" he asks, the words coming out in a low tone that sends unease through your spine. You blink, surprised at how quick he catches on. "Yeah, we were just chatting over some drinks.” His tongue pushes the inside of his cheek, and his hands drag furiously through his hair, clearly frustrated. "Jungkook, it’s nothing." you say in defence, trying to reassure him, seeing the jealousy spark up within, once again. "We were just talking, that’s all." He avoids your glance and exhales sharply. “I told you to stay away from that prick, he’s no good.” You have enough of his behavior. Pushing your feet on the ground you rise from your seat. “You’re just really jealous. He’s not doing anything to me other than chatting every now and then.” Sensing your anger Jungkook tones down "I don’t like it when other guys get too close to you." he admits through gritted teeth “Especially since I’m not around.”
You cross your arms over your chest, the drink you had long forgotten into the snow. “Forget it, it’s not like it will ever get through your thick skull.” you whisper the last part out of anger and frustration, but your actions only fire up the boy even more. “What did you say? Tell that to my face if you feel so bold.” His tone is low, dangerous, as he steps toward you. Tall frame towering over your much smaller one. 
“I said it’s never going to get through to you.” you snap back, refusing to back down. You were temperamental, such an attitude and behaviour leading to many hurts along the way. “I’m not some helpless girl who needs to be guarded from every guy I talk to, Jungkook!” the boy flinches at your words, clearly taken aback from you being so forward and mean. You can tell he’s hurt, but the anger in him isn’t entirely gone either. “I’m not saying you’re helpless.” he huffs ”I care about you, I care about what’s mine an…” but you take it further, cutting his sentence without a care. “Yours? Me? Do I look like some possession to you?” It felt surreal, the way he can easily talk about you like you were some kind of object he owned. 
Jungkook freezes, his expression dropping, the anger in his eyes faltering as well. His lips part, but no words come out at first, he must have realised the way his sentence came out. 
“Wait.” he starts, his voice rushed, panic setting in. “That’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean it like that.” You take a step back, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. “How can you say such absurd stuff?” He runs a hand through his hair, clearly fighting to say the right stuff. Silence takes over you two, you had nothing left to say while he had so much but didn’t know how to piece it together without starting a disaster. 
In the end you sigh, wiping away a few tears that drop before turning your back saying “Do whatever you want.” and leaving.
Jungkook doesn’t call out, doesn’t try to stop you, fueled by so many emotions, he only kicks his board away in anger before collecting himself for a few more runs down the trail, he needs to take his mind away.
And there he goes, once more and once more, until the sun goes down and the only lights are the ones from the post lamps. He was exhausted, burning his body throughout the day as never before. “This is the last one.” he says to himself, ready to take over the much quiet and deserted trail. The events from today playing over and over in his head, not letting him enjoy one second of his time. In a way he thought this was the only way of punishing himself over how he reacted and acted towards you. He loves you dearly, years of getting to know each other and build trust making him never forget to cherish and desire you. But he also has his flaws, the jealousy his body conserves makes him petty, only wanting you for himself, sick to his stomach when he sees other men pray over your pretty figure. So he does stupid stuff, hurts you and then hurts himself so he can be selfish once again and drag you back with pity. The boy sighs, not wanting to go down knowing in the end he will have to face you. He can already picture your worried face and the way you start to cry and beat him over the fact that he’s let himself push the limits so hard. And then he will drag you into his arms and cuddle you close, reminding you that you’re everything he needs and no other thing, not even air, is necessary for him to survive. Your presence and worry blooming pride into his soul. With clouded thoughts he goes down the snowy terrain, the adrenaline rushing into his body when the picture of you, waiting in front of the door for him, runs in his mind. He’s so lost in the delusion that he barely takes hold of the person in front of him. Panic sets when he finally notices, he tries to turn himself or, at least, get slower, but in vain. With a grunt he runs over the person, falling on top. He scrambles to push himself off. “Are you really that blind? Or are you just dumb!” an irritated feminine voice breaks down from underneath. He quickly rolls over, detaching the board from his feet. “I, u-uh” the boy stammers when his eyes meet the fierce ones of a woman. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to run you over.” “What were you even doing, playing a game of human bowling?!” her words were piercing through him, making the heat rise to his cheeks. The man quickly apologizes once again, his hand extending to help the young girl out.
She huffs, getting up herself and dusting her clothes to get rid of the snow. “Such an idiot.” “I said I’m sorry, okay! Are you hurt, though?” The woman’s gaze softens slightly at his question, but she crosses her arms. “No, I’m fine. Just...maybe watch where you’re going next time.” she mutters, the silence taking over for a brief second before both of them begin to chuckle. “It was stupid of me to do this, I should’ve gone down earlier, I don’t think my body can handle another slope. Not my brightest moment.” Jungkook takes off his helmet as the tension melts away. The woman adjusts her jacket and laughs lightly. “I saw you today, you are pretty good.” “You think?” she quickly fixes her goggles before rolling her eyes at his cocky tone. “Yeah, I didn't think you’d run into someone the moment it turns dark. At least you owned up to it and apologised.” “How can I not, you were ready to chew me out.” the boy admits with a stupid grin and a teasing tone. “Very good one, I’m Naeun.” she adds, extending her hand. “Jungkook.” he clasps her hand, shaking it. “Should we go down together? It’s only a few meters and we are at the bottom.” Naeun questions, raising her brows while looking at Jungkook. “Sure, but only if you have some good tips for my next rides.” she laughs at his boldness. “I work here as a trainer, you could say I’m a pro rider.” she winks playfully, setting Jungkook’s body on fire, leaving him speechless. “Pro rider, huh?” he manages to say, clearing his throat, looking away in embarrassment. “You’ve got the speed, but your technique could use some work. I can teach you some tricks tomorrow, I’m free in the afternoon since the kids only come in the morning.” “I’ll give it a shot.” he confidently responds, the girl only hums. “Think you can handle taking lessons from me though? Pretty boy.” Jungkook chokes on his saliva, coughing as the girl bursts into laughter.
“See you tomorrow, pretty boy. Don’t run into others until we meet, it would not work to snowboard with a broken leg.” Naeun teases before waving her arm, her figure disappearing in the distance. Jungkook watches her walk away before muttering an “wow” in disbelief. His worries dissipate and reappear when he gets inside, and instead of facing you with a furious face, ready to strike him down, he meets silence. 
“Y/N.” he quietly calls while looking for you. Not in the living room, bathroom or kitchen. So you must be in bed by now. Jungkook jumps over the stairs entering the room with quiet steps. Sighing when he sees you wrapped around in the blanket like a burrito. He gets closer to your face, looking at how puffy and tired your closed eyes were, guilt getting into him knowing he let you here cry instead of manning up, sorting things out. His chest tightens but as he leans closer, brushing some hairs out of your face. “I’m such an idiot.” he mutters under his breath when he gets into the bed, next to you. Even in your sleep, you seem to instinctively lean into his warmth, your body moving to stick to his side. Jungkook smiles, turning his body to hold you before drifting off to sleep. The morning air feels cold on his skin. He rustles around searching for your body heat, just to be met with emptiness.
His brows furrowed as he sat up, looking around for any trace of you. He swings his legs over the edge of the bed, rubbing his face before waddling out of the bedroom, the cabin met with silence. 
He lazily gets dressed, his body aching from every spot after yesterday’s push over. Determined to make things right, he grabs his jacket and steps outside, eyes scrunching in displeasure when the white of the snow blinds him. The steps he takes feel heavy, legs unknowingly taking him somewhere through the thick fluff. Jungkook’s gaze darts around, scanning the territory for any sign of you, the heartfelt laughter of your voice being heard in the distance catching his attention.
He quickened his pace, body drawn to see you. As he rounds a small cluster of pine trees his gaze bores on your figure, small body trying to push a big ball of snow around.
Jungkook stops in his tracks, his breath clouding the air as he watches you, a mixture of amusement and relief on his features. He’s ready to take one step towards you, when Yohan erupts from behind a tree, his arms carrying another boulder of snow. Your laughter echoes again when your eyes meet him, surprise written all over when the man sets down the big globe. 
“Perfect, right?” Yohan asks, dusting off his gloves and stepping back to admire his work, a triumphant smile on his face. “Don’t you think it’a a little too big? How will we lift this?” You beam at him, cheeks and nose flushed from the cold. “Teamwork.” Yohan says with a wink, clearly enjoying the playful banter. Jungkook only looks from afar, his heart burning worse than his body when he acknowledges how easy can Yohan make you smile with joy. He knows he should walk over and maybe beat him up real good, roll him into all the snow your little hands collected and make him the snowman instead. But he doesn’t. Instead he turns around with a shaky breath and tears blazing his eyes. “Hey! Pretty boy, whatcha doing there?” Naeun's voice beams from afar, her body agitating to make her presence noticed. Jungkook quickly wipes at his eyes trying to fight back the smile Naeun just put on his face. He walks over to her just to see a hoard of kids going down in a line. “Your students?” he raises a brow flashing her a smile. “Yea, good kids. Smart too.”  she replies, a proud glint in her eyes. “They’ve been asking me for tips all day. Pretty sure I’ll have them doing jumps by the end of the week.” “I need to get my jumps sorted as well, I’ve only been falling until now.” the boy says, lighting up his mood, taking his head away from all the drama in his love life. “Don't worry, I'll whip you into shape soon.” she chuckles to herself “I’m done for today so if you want, grab your board and let’s hop on.” "Alright, let's do this," he says, his competitive side itching for the chance to show off, the frustration he had when he saw you with Yohan dissipating away in a blink. He grabs his gears and dresses up, and after 20 minutes he meets Naeun for the start of his training. And they have fun for like two hours on the slopes. Jungkook managed to land even some of the harder jumps, as well as actually teach Naeun a trick or two himself. “Man, you’re really good. A quick learner, I’m impressed.” the girl says breathless, letting her body fall into a pile of snow. Jungkook laughs trying to catch his breath as well. “You’re not bad yourself.” He says with tired but sparkling eyes. Naeun stares at him, her cheeks getting brighter and probably not from the cold or exercising. She opens her mouth to say something, but it’s interrupted by the loud growl of her stomach.
Now visibly flustered she dismounts from the boards, looking away embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t have time to eat today, the kids came earlier than expected.” “I’m kinda hungry too, didn’t have breakfast either and it’s launch time already.” he motions to his belly, rubbing it. "How about we grab something to eat together? I think we’ve earned it after all that snowboarding." Naeun hesitates for a second before asking, afraid she’s going to get turned down. "You know what, I think that sounds great." Jungkook replies without a care, making her face light up with relief. "Really? Great!" she grabs his arm, dragging him to the nearby restaurant. "I could eat a whole mountain of food after today." Jungkook says with a chuckle, setting his snowboard beside him as he settles into the seat. Naeun rolls her eyes but grins. "I’m pretty sure I could too. Ramen? Or some Tteokbokki?” She flips through the menu, clearly eager for something hot.
"Definitely ramen for me." Jungkook responds quickly, his mind already set on it. The two of them sat in their order, chatting away happily, enjoying each other's presence.
On the other side, you recharge your battery after yesterday’s fight with some snowman building alongside Yohan. “It was really fun, I hope it will never melt away.” Yohan chuckles ruffling your hair. You two grew pretty close this morning. Apparently he is 22 years old, and only an assistant ranger. He comes from far away to spend his time around these places since he enjoys nature. You two were not similar, but your personalities did match pretty well, his presence being one big breath of fresh air. And after exhausting yourselves all morning with collecting and rolling snow, you two decided to walk back to the cabins and get back to your daily lives, actually wanting to set things right with your boyfriend.
As the cabins come into view, Yohan suddenly slows his pace, his gaze shifting toward the restaurant nearby. “Hey…” he says cautiously, pointing his finger toward the large glass windows. “Isn’t that Jungkook?” Following his finger you look towards the restaurant, your heart halting in your chest when you notice him smiling and listening with so much attention to the girl from across. “That’s him, right?” Yohan asks again, showing mild concern when your face drops. 
“Yeah…” you reply quietly, your hands tightening around your gloves. Yohan studies your face some more, feeling sorry seeing you like this. “Who even is that girl?” you mutter. “Naeun.” the boy responds hesitantly. “She’s a worker here, teaching kids how to snowboard.”
You can’t help but have jealousy bloom inside of you, the way her bob sways when she laughs a little too much at whatever your boyfriend was saying, or how she offers a bite of her food for him to try with shimmering eyes. They looked at a real couple. 
“You okay?” Yohan’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and you were not okay, you were fuming.
So that’s what he’s been doing all along while you were consuming yourself in the cabin, flirting so carefree with other girls. “I’m going there.” you say through gritted teeth, your fingers suffocating the gloves with your clench. Yohan’s eyes widen and alarmed he tries to stop you from making a scene. But you’re too far gone, already half a meter away from him. 
The door swings open with a soft jingle as you step inside and you don’t hesitate as you stride to their table, making your presence noticed in an instant. Your boyfriend jumps in his seat when he sees you cross your arms, glance throwing daggers his and Naeun’s way. “So this is your way of making up?” you ask repulsed. He only leans back, clicking with his tongue. “Ask yourself, or are you too caught up with Yohan?” Your jaw tightens at the mention of Yohan, anger flaring in your chest. “You’re just, absolutely the worst, trying to turn this shit on me when the only problem is you.” he raises from his seat, gaining the attention of the people around. “Hey, let’s not make a scene.” Naeun intervenes only to be immediately shut down. “I’m the problem now? Not you who’s been basically drooling over that Yohan guy.” you clench your fist on your sides, your body shaking with the anger he makes you feel. You bite your lips, wiping away your tears “I don’t even know what to do anymore.” you say in front of him. Jungkook’s expression softens in an instant, his heart skipping a beat. His own hands starting to shake thinking the worst all of a sudden. But you just shake your head, leaving him there in guilt and sorrow. For the next day you avoid each other, him sleeping on the couch while you drain yourself of tears in the bedroom. What a beautiful vacation.
The two of you took different paths all of a sudden, Jungkook spending his days on the hill with Naeun while you helped Yohan with everything you could. It was the recipe of a disaster, and it was clearly affecting your relationship. With now only 2 days to spare and a relationship that is about to collapse. It’s clear that something needs to change, but neither of you knows how to start fixing it.
As the snow began to gradually fall, Jungkook’s heavy steps could be heard. Another day on the slope for the snowboarder, now almost ending.
His body was a wreck, broken from a mixture of exhaustion, the leakage of your relationship and probably the discomfort of the couch, all piling up. He does not know if he can keep this up till the end of the getaway. His body might actually give up if he keeps this further. 
With a sigh, he pushes himself forward again, carving through the snow, until he’s met with the body of another guy. “Are you planning on dying tonight?” the sarcastic voice of Yohan ruptures through Jungkook’s ears. “Only if you go first.” he responds with the same token. “I genuinely feel pity when I look at you.” the older male starts. The younger one just rolls his eyes, bumping him with his shoulder in order to continue on his road. “I genuinely don’t know what she sees in you.” “I don’t know either.” Jungkook mutters, more to himself than to Yohan. “No, Y/N deserves so much better than an idiot like you, but she’s crazy blind when it comes to you.” he starts, finally letting his own thoughts out. “I don’t need a lecture from you.” Jungkook bites, his back still turned to Yohan. “You do, because you have her, and if you don’t want me to steal her away, then maybe you can start fixing things and actually appreciating her.” “You know, Y/N is an amazing girl, she’s kind and very loyal to an idiot like you.” his hands raise to grab the bridge of his nose in frustration, not believing that instead of taking the chance he gives it back to the very undeserving owner. “And she likes to build snowmans, and drink hot cocoa. She’s also super smart, knows more about the forest than I do, and she’s about to go to Harvard for human’s sake. She’s absolutely perfect, why do you waste her time!” he shouts in anger, eyes almost popping off from rage. “She’s not going to Harvard, she’s going to Yonsei.” a very confused Jungkook turns around and says. “Oh.” it’s the only thing Yohan can spit out, he’s messed up…big time. “Why do you say she’s going to Harvard, we promised we will go to the same uni.” Yohan lets out a slow breath, realizing how serious and delicaye this is. “I guess she didn’t tell you then…” ashamed he bites his lips. Jungkook turns back and makes a run towards the cabin, dropping his board and other gear in the process. He shoves the door open, taking you by surprise. You just got out of the shower and ready for a cozy night in bed. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he questions failing to stop the tears falling from his eyes. “What?” you ask in confusion. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re going to Harvard!” he sobs. You freeze, the towel around your shoulders slipping and falling on the ground. “I-I can explain, it's not what you think.”
“This is selfish even for you, Y/N. You promised…” 
You can’t mutter another word, tears burning into your eyes just as well and all you do is stay and stare at the man who’s going through the worst time of his life. “So this is really the end?” he asks, pleading for an answer, the raw pain in his eyes ripping your heart apart. His breath comes out shaky, his lips quivering. 
Jungkook stands there for a long moment, his chest rising and falling, and without another word, he walks away from you and back outside, shutting the door close after him. 
For him reality hits, a reality in which he couldn’t keep you close, managing to only push you away further and further. You also bite down on your feelings, mixed emotions running free in your body and head. He didn’t deserve all of this either. And your jealousies and misunderstandings only made you grow apart. Letting your body crumble on the ground sitting there for countless minutes, with tears running down your face, you look towards the door in hopes of his head peeking inside, and instead of the sorrowful eyes, a big and comforting smile to appear on his face.  Suddenly, the sound of the wind howling outside cuts through the room, making your eyes avert to the window. It’s already dark outside and the snow starts thickening. You stand up slowly, grabbing your phone to text Yohan, but just as the thought crosses your mind, you receive a message from him. “Be careful. It’s turning into a blizzard out there. Stay inside, both you and Jungkook.” A big lump fills your throat, your body moving before your mind has a chance to fully process anything. You slip on your boots, grabbing your jacket as you rush out the door.
The wind hits you like a wall, your eyes scrunching in pain. You can barely see anything through the thick snow, but you push forward, your heart pounding in your chest, you need to find Jungkook. This has escalated to unimaginable proportions. The storm outside perfectly mirroring the way you both consumed yourself for the last few days. It doesn’t take long for you to find him. His body collapsed in the snow. “Jungkook!” you shout, but the wind nearly swallows your voice. You rush and kneel next to his body, shaking him in desperation. “You idiot!” you cry, pulling him closer, wrapping your arms around, trying to warm him up. With all the power you have, you pull him onto your back, dragging him back to the cabin. 
Finally, after what feels like a lifetime, you make it to the door. You can barely catch your breath as you kick it open, throwing both your bodies inside. 
With all your remaining strength, your lungs burning from inside out, you strip him of his wet clothes, placing your head over his chest. His heart was beating. A rush of peace washes over you, with shaky arms you grab him close, cuddling him close to your warmth. “It’s going to be okay, you’re going to be fine.” you keep whispering while gently stroking his hair, holding him like your life depends on it. After good minutes you let go when you feel him starting to stir and cough. His eyes barely opening. “Am I in heaven?” “Only if you still think I’m an angel.” you reply thick with emotion. He raises his hand, placing it on your cheek, wiping away the tears you didn’t even know were falling. “The prettiest angel I’ve ever seen.” You sigh relieved, sticking your forehead onto his. Both of you lay there for some good minutes, before managing to drag him to the room and changing into comforting clothes you hold him close as he sleeps, promising yourself to never do this again. Morning comes slowly, the raging blizzard still ongoing. You wake up first, feeling the weight of your man on top of you, his chest coming slowly up and down. You stare at the ceiling for a few moments, processing how close you were to losing him. “Morning.” he says softly, his voice rough making you look back at him. “My body aches.” he whispers with a smile. “I’m sure it does, you also burned yourself these days.” his hands cup your cheek, lips sweetly coming closer to peck yours. “We are dumb, and we made a mess out of something that was supposed to be memorable.”  Jungkook's thumb brushes over the exposed skin on your chest, his gaze never leaving yours. “I’m sorry for everything, baby.”  “You don’t need to apologize. It’s also my fault. Sorry as well.” you whisper back to him. “Harvard huh?” he raises a brow questioning you with a tease. You laugh and shake your head. “Yonsei.” The boy rises from your chest, surprised eyes looking at you. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, I already confirmed.” you shyly admit. He laughs softly, throwing his back on his pillow and pulling you on top of him instead. “Why? This was a crazy life opportunity.”  “True, but…I realised after all this that no school or opportunity can make me go away from you. Yonsei is still top tier, I won’t lose that much, I won’t lose you.” Jungkook looks at you with stars in his eyes. “I love you.” he says in a heartbeat, you smile coming closer to him. “I love you too.” His lips slowly mold onto yours, moving slightly to kiss you so good. You gently bite his lip making him whine in the process, his moves growing eager. With a swing he pushes your body under him, lips attacking yours even more. “Fuck, I love you so much.” he whispers onto them, his fingers latching onto the first buttons of your pajama, taking them down. “I love you, and I love you, I can’t live without you, you drive me crazy Y/N.” “Then don’t.” you say softly once his lips start sucking on your neck. “Make me yours forever, Jungkook.” A low growl erupts from his chest at the thought. Claiming you as his, him being your first man and you being his only woman. His brain was fogging with desire. “Are you sure that’s what you want, baby?” he mumbles on your breast making you whimper. “Yes, please.” “You can’t back down on your words, just so you know.” he trails his lips lower, stopping at the hem of your pants, looking up for approval. You bite your lips half lidded, nodding simply as he complies. Jungkook takes a deep stare at your glistening pussy. “All mine.” is the only thing he says before he lowers his head to lick a long stripe through your folds. You moan loud, latching your fingers into his soft hair, pulling him closer to your warm core. “Mmm, my pretty girl, tasting so good.” he mumbles over your clit. The bliss becoming way too much to handle once the tip of his tongue starts moving rapidly at your entrance. “I’m coming, fuck!” you warn him, but he does not care, dragging his tongue through and out your orgasm. With shimmering lips he emerges from between your legs. His face just as fucked up as yours. “Should I stop?” he questions without the desire to actually do so. You shake your head, dragging his pants by the front. “No, I want you all.” you mewl, making the man lower his head whining. He turns around for a second, getting out to search through his suitcase. Coming back he throws an unopened pack of condoms next to your body. “You, oh my God.” you manage to say in disbelief. “Were you planning this all along?” you question, still not over your blowing height. “Maybe…” he manages to cockily say, slipping back between your legs, pantless. You reach out, grabbing his already throbbing cock, slowly moving to kiss him while stroking up and down. “Such a menace.” Sitting back down and spreading wider under him, you look at how he slightly struggles to unwrap the condom, his focused gaze and red hot cock, standing so proud and waiting ready, making you drool. “Need help, baby?” it’s not like you’ll be better, but maybe you can figure it out together, however his answer is a straight “No”. Once he gets it on, he leads his covered tip at your entrance. You hold your breath in anticipation and slight worry. “Tell me if it hurts, we can always stop.” he smiles and grabs one of your hands for some extra emotional support. You close your eyes expectant, feeling him slowly push inside and past the first ring of your walls before stopping. He stays still for a second before letting a small grunt pass out, making you open your eyes in worry. “Everything okay?” you ask concerned, staring at how his chest tries to even up, his breath rages as he shamefully admits “I came.”
You stare, blinking a few times, trying to process what he’s just told you, finally realising when he pulls out, the condom filled with white cream.
“Don’t laugh!” he whines seeing you hide your face into the pillow. You didn’t want to embarrass or make him insecure, potentially ruin his view on sex, but the way he was so cute and flustered, desperately trying to change the condom, made you grin in adoration.
“Let me help this time.” you say, pushing your body up, grabbing another foil from the box. You gently roll it over his member, while the man whimpers from sensitivity, his cock still hard as a rock even though he only came a few moments ago.
Once ready to try again, you lay back down and with a big gulp of air as he pushes in, this time easing himself more and more, until his pelvis touches yours.
You can only grunt in pain and mild pleasure, but his reassuring touches and slow pace makes it somewhat enjoyable.
He slowly drags his member through your walls, until only his tip sits inside, gasping every time you clench around him, feeling like your tightness can rip him every second.
It sadly only takes a few minutes for you two to reach bliss, your nails clawing at his back and him deliciously and much easier stretching you out. Both of you come down your height with a big and loud moan.
Jungkook pulls out, looking proudly at his spill, sitting warm under the protection, while you try to catch your breath with happiness flowing through your veins.
“Is this forever?” he looks at you with love in his eyes.
“Forever.” you whisper back with just as much sentiment, sealing your love with a heartfelt kiss.
In the end, you realized that the world outside may change you, and challenges may come, but it’s these moments, with his eyes on yours and both of your hearts beating for each other, that really matter.
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chaotic-neutral-knitter · 4 months ago
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listen I love stede a lot - I think he's the bravest character in the show. he changes everyone he meets for the better. he embodies what I think of as the thesis of the show. if he wasn't the way that he is, the show would not be very good, imo.
but in ep one he gives his pirate crew notes on the raid they just did as though they were a community theater troupe and his notes were 1) complimenting his own opening speech as "very inspiring" and 2) complaining that that the crew wasn't sufficiently enthusiastic about robbing two poor fisherman of a single plant.
during the raid his narration went "some men are born to be pirate captains, others learn on the job. me? well I'm a pretty solid mix of both" as though he has any idea what he's doing.
and AFTER the raid Olu has to gently point out to him that piracy isn't a game to the rest of the crew.
There's a reason that Rhys Darby was the only person capable of playing Stede without making him seem like a total dick. And I think that's bc Rhys was able to convey the idea that Stede's behavior in the first few eps is coming out of this deep sense of insecurity - he's doing some Stede-y things (flag making! paying the crew! bedtime stories!) that are great but he's also pretending to be this macho pirate captain who totally knows what he's doing. And it's the pretending that makes people cringe with second hand embarrassment. While also, often, seeing themselves in it and feeling a great deal of sympathy for Stede about it.
The reason Stede is like this is because HE thinks there's something deeply wrong with him, a belief that has been solidified by everyone around him his entire life, and therefore he needs to do everything he can to hide that deeply wrong thing about him. When he unpacks that and embraces the things about himself he originally thought were embarrassing (being weak, pathetic, soft, etc), he can stop pretending. And that's when other characters grow to love him! And so people will sometimes call him cringe because they aspire to be cringe like him, to embrace the parts of themselves that they were punished for and live more authentically.
because he changes! that's the point! he moves from cringe (pretending to be someone he's not) to cringe (being true to himself, always a deeply vulnerable thing to be) and it takes a lot of hard work. that's what makes me LIKE him as a character. that's what I think makes him the bravest character on the show. because he doesn't start out perfect. he's a puppet who grows into a real boy and that means that for a period of time he was a puppet, and that's okay.
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cherrysurf · 3 months ago
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Metanoia | Atsumu Miya X Reader
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“I want you to miss me, pour my feelings in the microphone I stay in, and when the girls come home I want one of them to take my phone, take my phone and lose your number I don’t want to be tempted, pick up when you wanna fall back in.”
Metanoia: “the journey of changing one’s mind, heart, self or way of life”
college au, where you’re best friends with osamu and he finally introduces you to his twin brother atsumu who just recently got out of a relationship and his only goal is to hoe around but you just can’t see to get enough of him and get roped into a situation frenzy with him
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Introductions: calm collected crashouts | volley-bros |
Atsumu x f!Reader /best friends brother troupe mixed in with changing his hoe ways for you/
Warnings: swearing, modern au, all characters are in college, mentions of drinking, smoking(weed), situationships, mentions of alcohol, cheating, angst, fluff
Next song playing….
Song 1: super shy
Song 2: cool with you
Song 3: sugarcoat
Song 4: the weekend
Song 5; I can’t feel my face
Song 6:ditto
Song 7: sorry for my late reply
song 8:right side of my neck
song 9: better distractions
song 10: gimme love
song 11: yeah right
song 12: slow dancing in the dark
song 13: hurts me too
song 14: do i wanna know?
song 15: one for the road
song 16: No. 1 party anthem
epilogue: in a good way (atsumu version)
alternate ending: i know you. (ushijima version)
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crguang · 9 months ago
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games people play
You belong on the stage, you think, under blinding lights and at the forefront of an applauding audience. Most importantly, you only care to play along if Kafka stars in the play right alongside you.
afab!reader, kinda fluffy actually, smut, toys used, kafka is strapped and im not talking about the gun, dom!kafka, sub!bratty reader, some edging, rope play, kinda possessive kafka, 6.3k words…
A/N: this got away from me. i have nothing to say for myself.
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Infiltration missions are your favorite; slipping into another person’s skin for a few hours, coming up with traits both obnoxious and serious in nature and performing in front of a naive, ignorant audience fills you with exhilaration.
Improvisation is even better, the anxiety of making up things on the fly feels like a hundred little bees buzzing in your stomach and you’ve grown so accustomed to its uneasiness by now that you often seek it out, it’s become a sort of addiction. Your team doesn’t understand— Silver Wolf prefers causing trouble from behind a screen and away from the action unless she needs to stretch her legs, Blade has too much on his mind to bother adding different characters into the mix, Firefly dreams to only live as herself. None of them share your excitement for acting and it would have been a great disappointment if it wasn’t for Kafka. Beautiful, guarded, eccentric Kafka. Constantly in search of adrenaline and always in movement, she is the only other member of your little illicit troupe of performers. Being with her is often the same as stepping on stage, what with all the half-truths and misleading statements, she is hidden under layers of costumes sometimes extravagant and other times impressively mundane. Even now, if she truly wishes to keep you at bay, you won’t be able to read her. It’s intoxicating. She plays you like the lines of a movie and together, under glaring lights and unsuspecting spectators, you dominate the stage.
You’re clasping the buttons of your shirt at the wrists, often slipping and having to start over, but despite the faint feeling of annoyance as you get dressed, you’re excited. Another evening of performing is ahead of you and it’s in times like this where you truly enjoy the work of the Stellaron Hunters. Having to blend in, to navigate a crowd of arrogant businessmen and pretentious admirers of the arts in order to steal the prized item of this auction feels like a scene straight out of a spy movie. What’s better is that you’re not meant to do this alone; Silver Wolf will be on comms as usual, hacking into the building to assure that the infiltration goes smoothly and Kafka will be right by your side, gloved hand in yours. Pre-performance jitters tingle your fingertips and toes. The sensation is welcome.
You tuck your shirt into your slacks and buckle the belt around your waist. You can hear shuffling and rummaging from the bathroom connected to the bedroom because of its open door. You pick the tie you laid out on the bed with the rest of your outfit earlier and wrap it around your neck, fiddling with it for some time before accepting the fact that you have no idea how to tie a tie and letting out a sigh of frustration. This is your first time wearing such a professional-looking suit complete with the loafers and tie, and you don’t know how to feel about it. It was slightly altered by your request, so it isn’t uncomfortable, just unfamiliar. You stand in front of the full length mirror with your undone tie, turning this way and that. Your hair is done in a style you like and with the shoes on you have to admit that you look nice.
You hear the faucet being turned on in the bathroom and stalk towards it.
“Can you tie this for me?” You ask as you step inside and glance at the mess of beauty products on the counter. Some of them are yours used in your hair, but most are Kafka’s. This is her room, after all.
Kafka’s applying a thin coat of mascara on her lashes when you walk in, focused on her reflection in the mirror. She doesn’t spare you a glance until she puts the brush back into its tube, flutters her eyelashes a couple times and deems her work perfect. She turns to you, an amused smile growing on her lips at the tie resting around your neck.
“Don’t know how?” Kafka steps into your space and runs her fingers over the fabric. She starts to loop it around and over itself as you stand.
“Never had to learn.”
From this close, you can appreciate the eyeshadow at the corner of her eyes and the highlights on the apple of her cheeks. She hasn’t put on perfume yet or finished doing her lips, but she’s dressed in a form-fitting dark magenta dress that ends a little above her ankles, with thin straps and an open back. You feel no shame observing her backside through the mirror since she’s facing away from it. She’s stupidly gorgeous; you bring your eyes back to the dangling pearl earrings in her ears and the few strands of hair that cover them. If for some reason she stands out from the crowd tonight, it’ll be because she’s the most beautiful person in the room.
Kafka finishes tying your tie and pats your chest twice. She steps back and looks you over with a hum and a couple knuckles under her chin. When her gaze travels back up to meet yours, you catch a shimmer of appreciation in it.
“Well, you look dashing,” she says, her eyes following the movements of your hands as you smooth out your shirt.
You grin playfully, approaching her to lightly rest your hands on her waist. “The suit is doing it for you, isn’t it?”
Kafka lifts your chin with two fingers. “It is.”
Her honesty makes you huff out a laugh and the smile on her lips grows somewhat at the sound.
“I’ll have to come up with excuses to get you to wear it more often.”
“You could just ask.”
“That’s boring.”
You roll your eyes, glancing at the watch on your left wrist. “We have to meet Silver Wolf outside in 20 minutes.” You lean forward to plant a chaste kiss on her lips before letting go and leaving her to her makeup.
Fifteen minutes later, you’re shrugging on your coat when Kafka emerges from the bathroom to clasp a necklace around her neck and put on her heels. She carefully handles her own coat as she takes it out of the closet, putting it over her shoulders to complete her look. Her hair is secured in a low ponytail, as usual. The chain of her pendant rests between her breasts and the low neckline of her dress draws your attention to her chest for half a minute while you wait for her near the door.
You meet up with Silver Wolf with two minutes to spare and set off for the venue. It’s this city’s grandest museum, its marble columns can be seen from a distance as you approach in car. The streets are bustling with activity, glowing lights are shining on skyscrapers and stores have their doors open to assure a healthy flow for the customers coming in and out of them. The arts are greatly valued here, it shows in the pristine buildings and advertisements all around. You know it’s only because this is a richer neighborhood and surmise that the rest of the city doesn’t look as well put together. The ride to the museum is filled with Silver Wolf’s rock music in the speakers. Everything is in place, the comms she gave you are installed and all that’s left is to put on a show that the audience won’t forget.
Silver Wolf acts as your valet when you reach the venue and step out of the car, Kafka’s hand in yours. She slips into the driver’s seat and drives off to park somewhere close and inconspicuous. She’ll be supervising the mission from the back seat while the two of you do the heavy lifting.
Kafka curls a hand around your arm as you walk up the steps of the museum. You feel a little smug knowing that she’s here with you, at your arm. Getting inside is child’s play; your invitations are checked and the metal detector is no match for Silver Wolf’s genius tech, not that you’d ever tell her that. The interior is as impressive as its outside, with high ceilings, ceramic floors and precious artifacts displayed inside tall glass cases. You and Kafka make your way to where the Attouine Universal Auction will take place in one system hour, stopping to mingle with previously chosen targets on the way. You mingle among the upper crust, politicians, businessmen, academics alike so that Kafka can use her Spirit Whisper on them. The guest list isn’t large, only up to a total of 67 people, including you two. Lying to them is easy, pretending to be in love with Kafka is easier and you’re actually having fun half an hour in.
Kafka doesn’t let you do all the talking, she has no issue following your train of thought and assuring her advantage in the conversation. It’s admirable and effortless, you don’t get tired of seeing her in action. She has a champagne flute in one hand, occasionally pensively stirring the clear liquid inside. Her smile is rehearsed and comes as naturally as breathing when a couple sparks up a conversation with you. You’re happy to play along in front of the short woman and her husband, judging by the wedding band on her finger.
“What a beautiful pair you two make,” the brunette says, an air of forced politeness about her. She seems a little out of place, like she’s not used to these kinds of events. You guess that she’s only accompanying her husband to them and that he’s actually the one with recognition.
Her husband, however, stands with his chin high and his shoulders straight. He belongs there, or believes he does, and makes a show of showing everyone else.
You take Kafka’s hand in yours and bring it to your lips. “Thank you. She’s a diamond, isn’t she?”
The man follows the motion with his eyes but his wife replies before he can open his mouth. You hear Silver Wolf gag over the comms.
“Oh, how cute! Have you been together long?”
“A year, just about,” Kafka answers, looking at you. “This one’s always a charmer.”
“I can see that!”
You smile. “I’ve got to keep you around somehow… I’m aware of what a blessing you are.”
A sparkle of amusement shines in Kafka’s eyes, the corner of her mouth lifting ever so slightly at your cheesy reply. You maintain your facade, but you also feel like laughing at how silly you sound. It’s not an untrue statement per se… it’s just weird to say such things out loud because all the both of you do is beat around the bush when it comes to genuine emotion. You’re playing a character but it feels a little like the lines between fiction and reality are blurring.
In your ear, Silver Wolf groans, “One more corny line and you’re getting muted. You both disgust me.”
The woman poses a hand on her husband’s arm, addressing him while keeping her eyes on you. “They’re just like us, aren’t they, Len?”
Your gaze flickers to his at the mention of his name and he immediately looks away into the distance to pretend he wasn’t staring at the necklace between Kafka’s breasts. You feel a faint tinge of annoyance flare up inside your chest.
“Yes, very lovely,” he says, faking the unbothered tone of his voice.
You don’t know what offends you the most; his atrocious acting or his unashamed ogling.
“I notice neither of you are wearing rings,” the woman continues with interest. “Will things be made official in the near future, perhaps…?”
Kafka lets out a chuckle— you can tell it’s a genuine one— and turns to you with a teasing smirk, “Oh, I don’t know… will they?”
You feel the familiar sensation of bees in your belly as you’re put on the spot. All three of them expect your answer so you decide to play Kafka’s game. You meet her stare with the most innocent, lovesick look you can muster, your thumb rubbing the base of her ring finger. You find that you don’t have to try that hard.
“I don’t know about the near future, but… I know I’ve never been in love before knowing her.”
Kafka’s face doesn’t change, her meticulously practiced mask never slips, and you look at each other with equally heavy stares. Time seems to slow if only for the few seconds it takes for your new acquaintance to make an exaggerated sound of excitement. The moment breaks, you both look away at the same time and the conversation quickly resumes with pointless inquiries about your (fake?) relationship and the auction.
After some time, you glance at your watch and feel somewhat vindicated by the fact that the auction will start soon, giving you a reason to excuse yourself from the conversation. You’re also excited by what will happen next.
“It was nice meeting you both,” you offer the woman a smile and a nod, not dwelling on the blush of her cheeks, “but we have to find our seats. It’d be a shame to be all the way at the back with so many almost priceless items on display tonight.”
She laughs quietly and you miss the furtive look Kafka sends your way.
“Of course, of course…” The brunette sighs, then smiles sweetly. “Maybe we’ll end up seated next to each other.”
You don’t say anything to that. Kafka politely bids them goodbye and walks in the opposite direction, the hand laced with yours tugging you along. You meet with the rest of the guests, spark up short conversations from every corner of the room. Despite enjoying your performance, you find your audience lacking. Arrogance and pretentiousness reside in every business man, celebrity, political figure that you talk to and you quickly develop disdain for almost every person at this event. None of them deserve the social advantage that they have; you feel restless with the desire to humble them.
With each guest filing into the auction room until all the seats are filled, it’s time for the next part of the script to unfold. You take your seats at the front right near the small built-in stage. Two staff members carefully roll out the auction items as the auctioneer steps before the microphone and greets his audience. Kafka’s hand is on your knee, forefinger tracing insignificant patterns into the fabric of your pants while you wait for the last and most important item to be presented. The Stellaron, trapped inside a large, almost translucent mineral, emits an energy felt by the entire room as it’s brought on stage in a glass case. It glitters in the light like a precious jewel and catches the attention of each buyer. Kafka squeezes your knee once. It’s go time.
Stealing the Stellaron is laughably easy. Due to Kafka’s Spirit Whisper, not a single member of the audience can find the strength to stand up from their seat as you hop to your feet and saunter on stage. The auctioneer stammers about it not being allowed, but he’s dealt with just as the others are and soon, he’s frozen where he stands, trembling like a leaf in the wind. Confused murmurs and panicked shouts fill the air when the guests realize their predicament, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Kafka handles the Stellaron with care while you browse the selection of items on display with a pensive hum.
An antique vase catches your eye. It curves at the top and opens like a blooming flower; designs that mean nothing to you seem carved right into the glass, so you take it out if it’s case for a closer look. It’s a bit heavy despite measuring less than two feet. You decide to keep it and eventually gift it to Kafka knowing she would be able to find the beauty in it. As the clamor of people’s voices rise around you, an idea strikes you. You turn to Kafka.
“The script only said we would steal the Stellaron and leave the museum at 20:56 system time…”
A small smile appears on Kafka’s lips. “What are you thinking?”
“This place reeks of supposed social superiority,” you trail your fingers on top of a case containing an old ceramic disk with contrasting colors and patterns. You push it off the table and it explodes into cutting shards. Amidst the chaos, loud gasps of indignation follow. “I want to tear it down.”
Kafka’s smile widens.
Twenty minutes later, you’re on your way back to the base exactly as Elio foresaw, with Silver Wolf in the driver's seat making a quick getaway as the museum’s alarms sound behind you. You huff out a breathy laugh once in the back seat, heart thundering in your chest from the adrenaline. You had to incapacitate some security guards on the way out, the chase is your second favorite part. It feels great, your fingertips twitch with exhilaration as the car swerves between other vehicles on the road, ignoring red lights and stop signs. Kafka leans on the head rest next to you, looking at you with something you can’t fully decipher. In the darkness of the backseat it’s hard to read her gaze, especially with her contacts on, but you recognize the way her eyes flicker between yours, then to your mouth. She doesn’t have to say anything, your hands suddenly cup her cheeks and your lips crash into hers. The breath is knocked out of you with both her kiss and the lingering adrenaline. Her hand snakes around your neck to bring you closer, her teeth sink into your bottom lip when she pulls away for half a second. She’s rougher than usual with a sense of urgency accompanying her touches; her free fingers sneak under your coat to grip your shirt.
“Can you not?” Silver Wolf makes a noise of disgust and her sudden intervention pulls you out of the daze you were in. “I swear, I’ll crash this stupid car.”
Kafka chuckles, separating herself from you. Her hand stays beneath your coat. “Don’t be so dramatic. A mission well done deserves a proper celebration, don’t you think?”
“I don’t care what you do, as long as it’s not in front of me.”
“We’re behind you…” you mutter, inhaling deeply to calm your shaky hands.
You ignore the middle finger Silver Wolf sends your way. You lean into the seat, eyes closed, and regain full control of your body with a few slow breaths. Kafka’s hand trails down your shirt to your lap. As you turn your head to look at her, you find her gaze already on you. The unfamiliar glint in it is still present, seemingly making her irises darker, then the corners of her mouth lift in a softer smile than she’d normally offer you.
“Let’s play a round of Truth or Lie,” she says suddenly.
Apart from being a fun game you both enjoy, it’s somewhat become your way of discussing serious matters without having to lay yourselves bare. The existence of a lie adds a layer of protection that neither of you can go without. You tilt your head at the suggestion.
“Okay. You start.”
Kafka takes a few seconds to reply, as if thinking of how to phrase her question. You’re careful to school your features into a picture of neutrality so as to not be caught off guard. She hums, then speaks up.
“Did you mean what you said earlier, to that woman?”
You don’t need to ask for clarification on what she’s referring to. Though her smile hasn’t slipped off her face, Kafka’s expression is guarded.
“Am I that good a liar you couldn’t tell?” You tease, an eyebrow raised.
“Is that one of your questions?”
You look past her as you think. Yes, something in you meant what you said then. You recognize this certainty, it’s as real as the earlier thrill in your veins. Being with Kafka is never boring, always brings something new, and you’ve never felt this way before meeting her. It’s an electrifying feeling that travels from your toes to wake the rest of your body, not unlike a shock, except that this is something you can’t help but crave. Beyond the curtains of this beautiful stage you act in lies a sort of yearning for more of how she makes you feel, of her hand in yours as you reenact this rehearsed play of two emotionally guarded beings finding closeness in each other. Are you in love with her? Yes, you are.
“No,” you shake your head, “to answer your first question. I was in character.”
Kafka stares at you for a moment, searching your face for the truth. You smile at her.
“Mm. You turn.”
Your fingers fiddle with her hand on your lap. Silver Wolf takes a sharper turn than necessary and the car swerves to the right. “Are you disappointed by my answer?”
“…No. I’m not.”
You can’t read her at all. You suppose that’s the point of the game. You arrive at your destination before you can finish the round and Silver Wolf wastes no time in hopping out of the car and into the building. There’s a spring in your step as you follow suit with Kafka in tow.
You’re already working towards unbuttoning your coat and uncuffing your shirt when you step into Kafka’s dark room. She flicks the switch behind you, illuminating the room. She takes off her earrings and you take a seat on the bed after slipping out of your loafers. You stretch your arms above your head, letting out a long sigh. Kafka discards her jewelry on top of a dresser.
“You know…” she turns to you before leaning into the furniture and looking you over like she did earlier this evening. You stop loosening your tie as she speaks, lifting your head to meet her eyes. “You looked beautiful tonight.”
You feel a playful smile stretch your lips. “Oh, yeah?”
“Mm. You nearly had that poor woman combusting in place.”
Your brows furrow briefly as you recall the exchange. You viewed her interest as superficial, something she felt compelled to be because of how obviously uneasy social events of that nature made her. It showed in the way she clung to her husband and how clumsy she was at navigating the conversation. Still, Kafka’s words are laced with a tinge of possessiveness you almost never see in her. A smirk slowly spreads across your face.
“She had a husband,” you remind her.
“Who spent half the conversation looking at my chest. They likely had nothing between them. But you knew that.”
You did not. You genuinely thought she was overcompensating and were too busy playing a clip of her husband getting fatally injured over and over in your mind after catching his eyes on Kafka. It’s funny that she would think you were flirting on purpose, though.
Kafka takes slow strides towards you. She stands in front of you and a bare foot slides between your calves to nudge them apart. You take hold of her waist, looking up at her with an innocent smile.
“You liked the attention,” she states with a finger under your chin. She wears a smile as her other hand comes up to strike your hair.
“You sound jealous.”
Kafka laughs softly, fingers splaying out over your cheek. Her thumb soothingly rubs your skin. You resist the urge to close your eyes. “Cute. What’s there to be jealous of when you’re pliable in my hands?” Her knee sinks into the mattress between your legs and she leans closer. “A block of clay to be shaped and molded. That’s what you are.”
“And you’re so eager to put your hands on me, to have me for yourself that another woman laughing at my jokes tickles you.”
Her thumb traces the outline of your bottom lip. “Eager?”
“Like a pup.”
Her smile doesn’t waver. She pushes her digit past your lips and it gets caught between your teeth as you make a noise of surprise at the sudden intrusion. You relax after a second, your tongue swirling around her finger while you maintain eye contact with her. There’s a dangerous heat in the way she looks at you, an unsaid warning that you choose to ignore.
“Brat.” Kafka takes her thumb out of your mouth and observes how it shines in the light. “You know what I do with them, don’t you?”
“You fuck them?”
The smile on her face grows larger. The way she touches you is inherently condescending, the overly sweet strokes of your hair and fake gentleness as she cups your cheek and leans close to you as if to kiss you are subtle reminders of her control over you. You stare into her eyes with fluttering eyelashes.
“Sweet girls get orgasms. A brat like you, on the other hand…”
You feel her breath on your parted lips and expect a kiss that doesn’t come. Instead Kafka tears herself from you and straightens up. Your hands leave her waist as she takes a step back and brings her hand to her chin in contemplation.
“I think I’ll tie you up.”
She does just that. You bite your bottom lip to muffle a whine, wrists absentmindedly tugging against their pretty, silken restraints. Kafka’s ropes hold your arms above your head to each corner of the headboard and slightly dig into your skin the more your muscles struggle. She effortlessly ties you up like a lovely present before you can prepare a snarky remark. The pink webs obey her command, unlike you, and keep you in place while she climbs over you to leisurely undress you. She starts at your neck, loosening your tie to place wet kisses on your skin. Her teeth sink into your flesh and she is without remorse when you hiss at the sensation. She suckles the bite, her tongue occasionally darting out to soothe the mark in slow strokes. Her hands expertly undo the button of your shirt without needing to look at her work. You feel her warm tongue trailing down to your collarbone as she removes your shirt. One of her knees stays between your thighs, unmoving.
Kafka lifts her head to look at the reveal of your skin once your shirt is discarded somewhere on the floor. Her palms travel up and down your stomach, squeeze at the waist and knead your covered breasts over your bra, all the while following their movements with lidded eyes. You swallow. You don’t say a word because you know she’ll go even slower if pressured to pick up the pace, but your skin is hot and your cunt already pulses between your legs at her tame ministrations. Kafka pulls down the cup of your bra with a finger, freeing a hardened nipple.
“Erect already?” She teases. “I only took off your shirt.”
“Shut up,” the words leave your mouth without thinking and your lips part in surprise when she uses two fingers to harshly twist your nipple. “Ah!”
“Wanna try again?”
You take a breath. “Acting like I’m the eager one when I know you’ve already ruined your pan— Mmh!”
Pleasure courses through you as your nipple is pinched between her fingertips. Her hands run around your chest to unclasp your bra and toss it aside, then resume their work on your breasts. Her thumbs swipe over your nipples, applying pressure that pathetically quickens your breathing. Kafka licks her lips but doesn’t use her mouth on you. She watches how your plush mounds move under her hands and take whatever shape she wants them to. She grabs a handful of each breast, squeezing and kneading until you’re exhaling through your mouth. Then she slowly moves down to your hips, rubbing the skin. She has to adjust her position in order to take off your pants and she settles between your thighs once the task is done.
Your thighs spread apart to accommodate her body. Kafka looks up at you, amused, but doesn’t comment on the gesture. Her palms rub into your soft skin, trailing up and down your inner thighs. A dark spot spreads from where arousal dampens your gray underwear.
“If only you could see how wet you’re getting,” she sighs lustfully, “maybe we should do this in front of the mirror. What do you think?”
You bite the inside of your cheek at the suggestion. Kafka hooks a forefinger under your underwear and pulls to reveal your glistening sex. Her voice lowers perceivably.
“Mm? Is thinking about me fucking you in front of a mirror getting you all wet?”
Her index trails down your folds and touches your clit as it does, making you suck your lip into your mouth to keep in a low moan. Kafka observes her finger between your lips, how your arousal coats the better part of it as it teases your pussy. She’ll have you a complete sticky mess before the night is over. The thought makes her cunt clench. She slides your panties down your legs until they no longer hide your puffy pussy from her sight. She uses two fingers to spread your lips and looks up at you.
“If you were well-behaved, I’d be licking you clean right now. Too bad you’re not.”
You groan in slight frustration. “Come on. Just fuck me like you mean it.”
“Oh, I’ll fuck you.” Kafka’s eyes narrow. She pulls her fingers away from your cunt completely. “And when I do, you won’t be able to remember a thing but how good I feel inside you.”
Kafka stands upright, ignoring your little whine to rummage through her drawers instead. She picks up a couple of things and you’re breathless when you see the strap-on and vibrator in her hands as she returns to your side. Your thighs clench together in a fruitless attempt at relieving pressure in your lower belly. You feel your arousal on your inner thighs, coating them in sticky juices. Kafka waves a hand and silk threads wrap around your flesh, forcing you to keep your legs spread for her. You try to move but apart from the quiver of your muscles, nothing happens.
“You haven’t earned that one yet,” Kafka gestures with the plastic cock and tosses it on the bed. She turns the small vibrator over in her palm, messing around with the settings until she finally settles on the lowest one. It pulses as it’s pressed against your cunt and you don’t bother covering up the moan that escapes you. “This will do for now.”
The vibrations on your pussy are so good, so relieving you throw your head back with a breathy moan. You feel each one reverberate through your body and soon, your hips are trying to move along for more friction. You buck your hips, hoping the movement will make it touch your clit for even a second. Kafka watches your growing desperation with apathy. She runs the vibrator up and down your slit, purposely ignoring your aching clit. Positioning it at your entrance covers the head in arousal and she’s tempted to push it in just to see how your cunt greedily sucks in anything she gives you. She makes you suffer longer, caresses your labia with the toy and pulls it away when she sees you clench from the pleasure. With it being at the lowest setting, the throb is a welcomed sensation but isn’t enough to make you come. Trying to move your body is useless; the thin ropes around your limbs keep you exactly how Kafka wants you: defenseless.
You inhale sharply through your mouth as she rubs the toy into your cunt. You know begging won’t help your cause and will only serve to humiliate you. Pleading to her good conscience is just as worthless, but you need to come so badly and Kafka will only allow you to do it on her terms. So, you provoke her.
“That— Mmh, that woman from the auction,” you manage to breathe out, and Kafka instantly meets your eyes. “Bet… she’d be so eager to make me come if I asked.”
Kafka doesn’t move for a moment. The vibrator is still pressed against your pussy, making you let out little whines, but her hand isn’t moving and she’s simply looking at you like she’s trying to figure you out. You know she sees through you, your mind is too taken by the idea of pleasure to bother hiding yourself from her searching gaze. She seems to debate with herself on something and when you think she just won’t bite your bait, she turns off the vibrator. You watch as she stands to let her dress slip to the floor. Apprehension curls around your throat as she steps into the harness of the strap-on and adjusts it around her hips. Her silence makes your gut flutter with nervousness. Then she chuckles to herself and that only worsens the feeling.
Kafka hovers over you, fingers digging into your skin as she grabs your jaw and guides your gaze to hers. Her nails will surely leave crescent marks behind, but you can only focus on the dull pink of her irises. With her free hand, she guides the plastic cock between your folds, coating it in your slick and grazing your clit in the process. Your following moan is muffled by the grip on your jaw. She spreads your arousal over the dick, pumping it once, twice, three times before her sticky fingers grip your waist and she pushes half of the length into you at once.
You groan in surprise, unaccustomed to the sudden fullness. You feel the toy stretching your walls and Kafka doesn’t allow you to get used to the sensation before thrusting the entirety of it inside your fluttering cunt.
“Fuck, w— wait…” you gasp out, wrists struggling against the ropes and thighs trembling. “I was—” A whimper escapes you as Kafka pulls out almost completely just to drive into you again. “Was joking, baby…”
“Shut up and take it.”
You have no choice but to comply. Kafka thrusts into you, unrelenting and apathetic to the way the sensations overwhelm you instantly after so much teasing. Her dick rubs your walls deliciously and the wet sounds of it pounding into you has you choking out a cry. You don’t get used to the pace, it’s too rough, too fast, and has your orgasm building after only a minute of her inside you. You can’t last, not with Kafka playing you as rigorously as she does the violin, fingers digging into the flesh of your love handle for stability. You take her cock as she orders you to and whimper against her lips when she leans forward to press her mouth to yours for the first time tonight. Her kiss is as rough as her strokes, leaving you breathless, a mindless puppet only able to mutter her name. As her tongue enters your mouth to tease yours, the hand around your jaw leaves so that her middle finger harshly rubs your clit. It’s too much for you to handle at once. Your cunt swallows her cock as you come with her name out your lips, squeezing her like a vice.
Kafka doesn’t slow down her thrusts, fucking you through your orgasm and maintaining the pressure on your pulsing clit until you feel another one coming.
“Kafka—” You whine, throat hoarse, “too much…”
“Mmh? That’s what you wanted. Be grateful I didn’t leave you there, cunt aching for me to fill you. You’ll take what I give you.”
Her eyes drink you in, she commits your twisting brows and trembling lips to memory; her mind takes live pictures of you under her, whimpering as you greedily take her cock, until there’s an entire gallery of your fucked out expression inside her head. The sight makes her wetter and needy for release, but it’s not enough. With an arm around your shoulder and the use of her webs, Kafka manipulates your weak body into straddling her lap as she sits up on the bed. Your wrists are still tied together, your arms around her neck, but your thighs quiver as the ropes vanish around them. She holds you up with two hands on your hips and pushes you down onto her length. Your eyes are closed, your lips parted, and you let her guide you up and down her cock until you’re coming again. Kafka watches your slick slide down the dildo and groans, wishing she could pump her own cum into your cunt and watch it leak out of you as she fills you. The toy is drenched in cum and she doesn’t look away as it disappears inside your throbbing pussy, can’t; she feels her own slick run down her thighs just from watching how messy you’re getting her cock.
“Can’t take it,” you breathe out, “mmh…”
Kafka looks up at you. She briefly takes your nipple in her mouth, swirling her tongue around it, before letting go and murmuring into your skin, “You can, baby. You’re taking me so well.”
You whine, hips faltering. The length of her cock buries into you in a harsh thrust upwards and you can’t make a sound as you come hard, your face in Kafka’s neck. Your arms shake from the pleasure that assaults you at once. Your toes curl and the breath leaves your lungs. Kafka doesn’t pull out as you come down from your high a panting mess. Your limbs feel twice as heavy. Her hand strokes your hair while you breathe in and out sharply. She gives you some time to calm down, then pulls you away from her neck with the hand in your hair and kisses you messily; you feel her tongue on your bottom lip and her saliva mix with yours. She breathes out into your open mouth, a low moan escaping her.
Kafka squeezes your hip and mutters into your mouth, “You’ll give me another one, won’t you?”
Though it’s phrased as one, you know it’s not a question at all. This is what you get for provoking her, and she won’t stop until she’s entirely satisfied.
391 notes · View notes
oceandolores · 6 months ago
Text
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 8
Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader
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"The fates already fucked me sideways,"
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summary: the secrets out
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, 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 8
masterlist of the series!
previous | chapter 7
next | chapter 9
The sun filtered through the church windows, casting a soft glow over the sanctuary where the girls' dance troupe had been practicing for hours. Tomorrow was the big day—the fellowship celebration—where all the church elders, members, and their families would gather to witness the performances. The pressure was on, and you could feel the weight of it pressing down on your shoulders. This was your first time leading something, and the responsibility felt immense.
Jemima had been a godsend, helping you organize the routines, going over each step with the girls until everything was perfect. Her calm, reassuring presence had been a balm to your nerves. Joel had been equally supportive, his quiet encouragement easing the anxiety that had threatened to overwhelm you. Just thinking about him brought a smile to your face, even in the midst of all the stress.
During a break in the practice, you and Emma headed to the back of the church to grab some snacks and drinks. The two of you chatted idly, the tension from the rehearsal melting away with each laugh you shared. It was a rare moment of calm, one you desperately needed before the whirlwind of tomorrow’s event.
But then, as you reached for a bottle of water, a familiar, unwelcome presence loomed over you. Your heart skipped a beat, and your breath caught in your throat as you turned to see Jamie standing there, his eyes dark and malicious.
“Hi, Jamie,” Emma greeted him casually, completely unaware of the storm brewing beneath the surface. “What are you doing here?”
Jamie ignored her, his gaze locked on you, a twisted smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Did you tell him, hm?” His voice was low, taunting, sending a chill down your spine.
You froze, confusion and fear knotting in your stomach. “What are you talking about, Jamie? Just get out of here.” You tried to keep your voice steady as you turned back to the snacks, hoping he would just leave you alone.
But Jamie wasn’t finished. He stepped closer, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “I know about you and him.”
Your body went rigid, the blood draining from your face. Panic surged through you, but you forced yourself to remain calm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you muttered, hoping to deflect his insinuations.
Jamie chuckled darkly, leaning in closer. “Don’t play dumb. You think I wouldn’t find out? I knew you were always a dirty slut, but damn, you really outdid yourself this time.”
Emma glanced between the two of you, her brow furrowing in confusion. “What’s going on?"
You didn’t answer, your mind racing, trying to figure out how to diffuse the situation. “Jamie, just leave me alone,” you repeated, your voice shaking.
But Jamie wasn’t done yet. His eyes glittered with malice as he continued, “If you say anything about us, I’ll make sure everyone knows about you and Joel.”
Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure Emma could hear it. The mention of Joel’s name made you freeze in place, terror gripping you like a vise.
Emma’s eyes widened as she processed what Jamie had said. She looked at you, then back at Jamie, horror dawning on her face.
Jamie grinned wickedly, relishing in your fear. “Oh, she didn’t tell you, did she? The saint preacher's daughter over here has been fucking around with good ol’ Joel Miller. Isn’t that right?”
Emma’s face went pale, her expression a mixture of shock and disgust. “Jamie, stop,” you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. But he ignored you, his cruel words cutting deeper with each passing second.
“He’s old enough to be your dad, for God’s sake,” Jamie sneered. “He should be in jail for what he’s done to you, and you…you should be ashamed of yourself. But then again, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You were always such a little whore.”
Jamie’s words hit you like a slap to the face, the weight of his accusations crashing down on you. Emma stood frozen beside you, her eyes wide and filled with disbelief.
“I…” You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. Jamie’s threats hung in the air, and the reality of what he could do, the damage he could cause, made your head spin.
Without another word, Jamie turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you and Emma standing there in stunned silence. The world seemed to tilt on its axis, everything spinning out of control as you tried to process what had just happened.
"Emma..." you said. you are scared, scared to death.
Emma’s eyes were wide, her face pale with shock as she pulled you into the small storage room, slamming the door shut behind her. The dim light barely illuminated the cramped space, casting long shadows on the walls. The sound of your heart pounding in your chest echoed in your ears, drowning out the faint hum of the air conditioning unit.
“What the fuck?” Emma’s voice was a harsh whisper, her hands trembling as she ran them through her hair. “Joel Miller? Ellie’s dad?! Are you fucking crazy?!”
You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Panic seized your throat, making it impossible to form a coherent sentence. You felt trapped, cornered by both Emma’s piercing gaze and the weight of the secret that had just been exposed.
“I…I can explain,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. But even as you said it, you knew how hollow it sounded. How could you possibly explain something like this? How could you make her understand the connection you felt with Joel, the way he made you feel safe, loved, and cherished in a way you had never experienced before?
Emma’s expression softened for a moment, as if she could see the turmoil in your eyes. But it was quickly replaced by a mixture of anger and disbelief. “Explain? What’s there to explain? This is crazy! He’s twice your age, he’s Ellie’s dad and YOUR DAD'S BEST FRIEND!, for God’s sake. Do you even realize what you’ve done?”
"This could ruin everything. Do you even realize the danger you’re in? What will happen if your dad finds out? If the church finds out?” She said again.
Tears welled up in your eyes, but you blinked them back, refusing to break down. “I know how it looks, Emma, but it’s not like that. It’s not just some fling or something… I love him, and he loves me.”
Emma stared at you, her mouth agape, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Love? You think this is love? He’s a grown man, He should know better!”
“He does know better,” you shot back, your voice rising in desperation. “But I’m not a child, Emma. I know what I want, and I want Joel. He’s not taking advantage of me. It’s real. He protect me, he...he's always there for me,"
Emma shook her head, her face a mix of anger and hurt. “You’re so blinded by this…whatever it is that you can’t see how wrong it is. What do you think is going to happen when people find out? What about your dad? He’ll go ballistic. And Joel…he could get in serious trouble. You’re both going to get hurt.”
Her words hit you like a ton of bricks, the reality of the situation crashing down on you. You knew she was right, but the thought of losing Joel, of being torn away from him, was unbearable.
“Emma, please,” you begged, reaching out to grab her hand. “Please, don’t say anything. I know this is a mess, but I can’t lose him. I love him, and I don’t care about the consequences. I just…I just need you to understand.”
Emma looked down at your hand clutching hers, her expression torn. She was silent for what felt like an eternity, and you held your breath, praying that she would somehow find it in her heart to forgive you, to keep your secret.
Finally, she sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “I don’t know what to do. This is so messed up. You both will get exiled! Or worse, he could be in jail for molesting you!”
Her words struck a nerve, the idea of Joel being painted as some sort of predator made your blood boil. “He did NOT molest me!” you snapped, your voice rising with a fierce intensity that startled both of you. Emma’s eyes widened, clearly taken aback by your sudden outburst, but you couldn’t hold back the torrent of emotions any longer.
“He didn’t do anything wrong, Emma,” you continued, your voice trembling but steady. “He didn’t force me into anything. I wanted this. I wanted him. Joel is a good man, and you don’t understand—he’s the only one who’s ever made me feel like I’m worth something. He’s been there for me when no one else was, not even my own dad.”
Emma’s face softened, but there was still a deep conflict in her eyes. Don’t you see how wrong this is? It’s not just about love or how he makes you feel. This could destroy everything—for both of you.”
You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside you. “I know it’s complicated, and I know it’s not what people expect. But it’s real, Emma. What we have is real. And I don’t care if it’s wrong in the eyes of the church or society. All I know is that I can’t lose him. I won’t.”
Emma shook her head, her expression a mix of concern and frustration. “You’re not thinking straight. This isn’t just about you. It’s about him too. If this gets out…if people find out, it won’t just be your life that’s ruined. Joel could lose everything. His reputation, his business, his freedom. Is that what you want?”
The weight of her words hung heavily between you, but you couldn’t back down. “No, of course not,” you said, your voice cracking slightly. “But I can’t just walk away from him. I love him, Emma. I love him in a way I’ve never loved anyone else. And I can’t imagine my life without him.”
Emma’s eyes searched yours, as if looking for some sign that you might change your mind, that you might realize the gravity of the situation. But she didn’t find it. Instead, she saw the depth of your resolve, the unyielding determination in your gaze.
“Then you better be prepared for the consequences,” she finally said, her voice tinged with sadness. “Because this won’t end well. Not for you, not for Joel. And I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you faced Emma, your heart pounding with the weight of the truth you were about to unveil. “I’m already hurt, Emma,” you whispered, the words trembling on your lips. “Every day I have to pretend that I’m okay, that I’m fine living this life. But I’m not. Joel is the only thing that makes it bearable. And I’m willing to risk everything for him.”
The desperation in your voice hung heavily in the air, and you saw Emma’s resolve begin to waver. Her eyes softened, the anger and judgment in them slowly being replaced with concern and fear for you. “Please, Emma,” you begged, your voice cracking, “please, I'm begging you, don’t tell anyone. Joel’s not the bad guy. He’s not who you think he is. He saved me.”
Emma hesitated, her face torn between wanting to protect you and not fully understanding the gravity of the situation. You knew there was only one way to make her see, to make her understand why you couldn’t let go of Joel—why you couldn’t go back to the way things were before.
Taking a shaky breath, you let the words spill out, words you’d kept buried deep inside for so long, words that had been eating away at you like a poison. “You want to know the truth, Emma? The real reason why I’ve been avoiding Jamie? Why he’s been threatening me like that?”
Emma’s eyes widened, fear creeping into her expression as she shook her head slightly, as if not wanting to hear what you were about to say. But you couldn’t stop now, not after holding this secret for so long.
“Because he raped me,” you whispered, your voice breaking on the word, the shame and pain you’d been carrying for so long finally breaking free. “He took my virginity by force, Emma. He didn’t care about me—he just wanted to prove he could have me, no matter what. And when he was done, he left me there, feeling like nothing.”
The tears finally broke free, streaming down your cheeks as you saw Emma’s face pale, her eyes filling with horror and disbelief. “He—he did what?” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Your voice wavered as you continued, the weight of your confession bearing down on you like a cross too heavy to carry. "I felt so dirty," you whispered, your words trembling in the still air between you and Emma. "So broken. I wanted to end it all, to just disappear and never have to feel that way again. I started drinking, hiding bottles in my room, sneaking out at night just to numb the pain. I even went to church drunk, praying to God to take this all away, but no one ever noticed.”
The words tumbled out like confessions at a confessional, your voice cracking under the strain of so much pain. "Every night, I would whisper to God, pleading for mercy. I’d pray for the angels to come down and take this burden from me, to carry me away on their wings to a place where I didn’t have to feel this pain anymore. And if no angel would come, I begged for death, for the final peace of oblivion, because I couldn’t keep fighting. I was drowning, Emma, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t break the surface.”
You took a shuddering breath, your hands shaking as you clutched Emma’s arms, searching her eyes for some sign that she understood. "I prayed for deliverance, for a way out of this darkness. I asked God to send me someone, anyone, who could make me feel whole again, who could remind me that I wasn’t just a vessel for shame and sorrow. And then Joel came into my life, like a beacon of light in a storm. He made me believe that maybe I wasn’t beyond saving, that maybe there was still something left in me worth loving."
Emma’s eyes were filled with tears, her face a picture of grief and understanding. She didn’t say anything, just held you tighter, as if trying to shield you from all the pain you had been carrying alone for so long.
“And now, I’m terrified, Em,” you admitted, your voice breaking completely. “Because I’m afraid that if I lose Joel, I’ll lose the last bit of hope I have left. I don’t want to go back to that darkness, to that place where I prayed for death. I don’t want to feel that way again.”
Emma’s arms tightened around you, her tears mingling with yours as she whispered, “You won’t go back there. I promise, you won’t be alone anymore. I’ll help you through this, whatever it takes.”
The weight of your confession hung in the air like incense rising to the heavens, a prayer of desperation and sorrow. And in that moment, you felt a glimmer of something—something like hope—begin to take root in the cracks of your broken heart. Emma’s embrace was like a lifeline, pulling you back from the edge of the abyss you had been teetering on for so long.
"I can't lose him, I can't," you said, your voice barely a whisper, as if speaking the words too loudly might shatter the fragile hope beginning to bloom within you. The thought of a life without Joel, without the one person who made you feel seen and loved, was unbearable. You clung to Emma as though letting go would mean slipping back into the darkness that had once consumed you.
Emma held you tighter, her hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "You're not going to lose him," she murmured, her voice firm yet gentle. "We’ll figure this out, okay?"
Tears welled up in your eyes as you buried your face in Emma's shoulder, her words offering a comfort you hadn’t realized you needed so desperately. It was the first time in a long time that someone had promised to stand by you, no matter the cost. "Thank you, Emma," you managed to choke out, your gratitude overwhelming.
Emma pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, her expression serious. "You don’t have to go through this alone anymore. I’m here for you, and I’m not going anywhere."
You nodded, sniffling as you wiped at your eyes. The fear still lingered, but it wasn’t as suffocating as it had been before. With Emma by your side, the path ahead seemed a little less daunting. The darkness that had once felt all-consuming now had a small, flickering light within it—a light that you were determined to hold onto.
But as the two of you stood there, the reality of your situation pressed in on you once more. Jamie’s threats echoed in your mind, and you couldn’t shake the fear of what he might do. The thought of him exposing your relationship with Joel sent a shiver down your spine.
“What if he tells?” you asked, your voice tinged with anxiety. “What if he goes to my dad, or the church? Joel could be ruined, and I—I don’t know what would happen to me.”
Emma shook her head, determination hardening her features. “We won’t let that happen."
You swallowed hard, feeling a renewed sense of resolve. Emma’s faith in you, in both of you, gave you strength.
As you stood there, side by side, the weight of the world felt just a little bit lighter. The storm was far from over, but at least now you knew you didn’t have to face it alone.
***
The night had settled in, wrapping the world in a cloak of darkness as you and the other girls finished your practice. The church hall was now empty, the echoes of laughter and chatter fading away as everyone headed home. The dance routine had been drilled into your muscles, each movement precise, every step aligned with the rhythm. You had pushed yourself hard, knowing that tomorrow would be a day of judgment—not just for your performance, but for the life you had chosen to live in secret.
As you stepped outside, the cool night air kissed your skin, a welcome relief from the heat of the practice room. The streets were quiet, almost eerily so, with only the occasional flicker of streetlights breaking through the darkness. The silence was a stark contrast to the noise in your mind, where thoughts swirled like a storm.
Emma offered to drive you home in her new car, her concern evident in the way she lingered, keys in hand. "Are you sure you don’t want a ride? It’s getting late," she asked, her voice gentle but insistent.
You shook your head, forcing a small smile. "I’ll be fine, Emma. I just need to clear my head a bit. I’ll walk."
She hesitated, searching your face for any sign of doubt. "Alright," she finally said, though her eyes still held a trace of worry. "Just… be careful, okay?"
You nodded, reassuring her with another smile. "I will. See you tomorrow."
With that, you both exchanged goodbyes, and you started your walk home. The night seemed to press in around you, the darkness heavy with unspoken fears and unvoiced hopes. Your footsteps echoed on the pavement, a steady rhythm that matched the beating of your heart.
You clutched your backpack a little tighter, its weight grounding you as your thoughts drifted. Tomorrow was supposed to be a big day—your dad would be home early, the church event would be in full swing, and all eyes would be on you. But all you could think about was Joel. The way he made you feel alive, seen, and cherished in a world that often felt cold and uncaring. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, of having that light snuffed out by the darkness that threatened to consume you.
The streetlights cast long shadows on the road ahead, their glow flickering like the doubts that gnawed at your mind. What if Jamie followed through on his threats? What if your dad found out? The thought made your chest tighten with fear. You had built this delicate web of secrecy, each strand woven with care, but it could all unravel with just one word, one misstep.
You tried to push the fear away, focusing instead on the warmth Joel had given you, the way his presence had pulled you back from the edge time and time again. You repeated to yourself that you couldn’t lose him—not now, not ever. He was your anchor, your sanctuary in a world that had so often felt like a battlefield.
Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice the figure lurking in the shadows until it was too late. As you rounded a corner, a rustling sound from the bushes made you pause. Your breath hitched, and you stopped in your tracks, your heart pounding in your chest.
Then, like a specter emerging from the darkness, Jamie stepped out from the shadows, his presence cold and menacing. His lips curled into a twisted smile as he saw the fear flash across your face.
"Going somewhere?" he asked, his voice low and taunting. His presence casting a dark shadow over you. You took a step back, a chill running down your spine. “Get the fuck out of my face, Jamie,” you demanded, your voice trembling but resolute.
Jamie’s eyes narrowed as he advanced. “You told Emma about me, didn’t you?” His tone was cold and accusatory. Fear tightened in your chest, but you tried to hold your ground.
“If you ruin me, I’ll make sure I ruin you,” he sneered, his threat hanging heavy in the air. “I’ll make sure they take him away from you.”
Desperation and anger flared inside you. “What the fuck do you want from me?!” you shouted, your voice breaking with emotion.
Without warning, Jamie’s hand clamped over your mouth, dragging you toward the bushes. You struggled against his grip, trying to scream for help, but his strength overwhelmed you. The world seemed to close in as he shoved you down onto the dirt, his actions abrupt and frightening.
In a surge of panic, you tried to push him away, your heart racing as he started to unzip his pants, “No, Jamie, please!” you begged, tears streaming down your face. “Don’t!”
Jamie’s voice was cruel and mocking. “Did he make you feel good, huh? You should thank me. I brought out this slut hidden beneath you, didn’t I? I should be the one who fuck you good, not some old fucking ass like Joel Miller.”
His words cut deep, and you felt a sense of helpless dread. The stars above seemed to spin as you tried to escape, your heart pounding with fear and sorrow. But Jamie’s hold was unrelenting, and your pleas seemed to fade into the night, swallowed by the dark.
"Please, don't, please," you try your best to shoved him but he pull your skirt down, "Help!" you scream and Jamie punch you again, "Be quiet, you dirty whore,".
As Jamie’s grip tightened, he enters you by force, and the world seemed to tilt, your mind sought refuge in the distant twinkle of the stars. You closed your eyes, trying to escape into the silent comfort of the night sky. Each star above was a distant beacon, a reminder that somewhere, beyond this moment, there was still a world of light and hope.
You tried to focus on the stars, their cold, indifferent light providing a fragile sense of calm. In the midst of your torment, you held onto the hope that this night would end, that the dawn would break and with it, bring the promise of a new beginning.
The beauty of the celestial expanse above seemed to offer a quiet solace, a reminder that even in the darkest moments, there is still a universe beyond, filled with unspoken promises and untold stories.
As Jamie’s actions continued, the pain and fear seemed to blur, becoming a distant echo compared to the clarity of the stars. You imagined yourself drifting among them, free from the terror below, where the hurt could not reach and the darkness could not touch.
Just look at the stars, you'll be fine
As the tears running down your face, you bit your lips to hold the pain, Jamie's moaning on your ear. You tried to focus on the stars, their silent brilliance a reminder of a world beyond this moment. You whispered a prayer to the universe, to any higher power that might be listening, to make it stop, to take away the suffering and grant you the strength to endure.
"Jesus Christ, please, make all of this stop, I'm tired," you prayed, your voice a desperate whisper that mingled with the night’s silence. The tears streaming down your face were a testament to your exhaustion, both physical and emotional.
Jamie, lost in his own world, was too consumed by his actions to hear your plea. His mocking laughter echoed through the night, a cruel reminder of the powerlessness you felt in this moment. His words and actions were a stark contrast to the gentle night sky above, where you tried to find solace.
Despite the overwhelming pain, you continued to gaze at the stars, seeking refuge in their distant, unchanging light. They were your silent witnesses, a reminder that there was something beyond this immediate suffering, a world where this moment of anguish would eventually fade into the past.
With final thrust, he finally reach his climax, he came inside you.
The night was a tapestry of silent suffering and shattering despair. When Jamie finally finished, he lay beside you, breath ragged and labored. The stillness of the night contrasted sharply with the turmoil of your heart. You lay there, numb and tearful, as though the ground beneath you was a cruel reminder of your helplessness.
Jamie eventually rose, zipping his pants with a contemptuous smirk. His words were a chilling echo of his earlier cruelty. “If you tell anyone about this, you’re dead,” he threatened, his voice cold and indifferent. With that, he walked away, leaving you alone in the dirt, a broken figure beneath the indifferent stars.
The minutes stretched into what felt like hours as you lay there, struggling to gather yourself. The pain was a relentless tide, overwhelming and unyielding. The stars above, once your silent witnesses, now seemed distant and cold, a vast expanse that mocked your suffering.
You slowly sat up, the weight of the night heavy on your shoulders. Your dress was torn and stained, your hair a tangled mess. Every movement was a reminder of the agony you had endured. You tried to fix your appearance, but the effort felt like an exercise in futility. The blood staining your legs was a harsh reminder of what Jamie had done.
As you walked through the night, your steps were unsteady, your mind clouded with despair. The questions swirled in your head: Why had this happened to you? Why did life have to be so painfully cruel? The burden of your suffering seemed almost unbearable.
Desperate for solace, you made your way to Joel’s home. Each step was a struggle, your heart aching with the need for his presence, for his comfort. When you reached his door, you knocked, hoping against hope that he was home.
Ellie opened the door, her eyes widening in shock as she took in your disheveled and bleeding appearance. Her voice was filled with panic as she called out, “What the hell happened?! Are you okay?!”
With tears brimming in your eyes and your voice trembling, you asked, “Ellie, is… is Joel home?” The words were barely a whisper, but they carried the weight of your desperation.
From inside, you could hear Joel’s voice from inside, “Ellie, who's on the door?"
Joel’s eyes widened with alarm as he saw you standing there, a vision of distress and anguish. Without hesitation, he bolted to the door, his face etched with fear and concern. As he reached you, the dam holding back your tears finally broke.
“Joel…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, your strength crumbling. You collapsed into his arms, the sobs wracking your body uncontrollably. The dam of your grief had burst, and you clung to him with all the strength you had left, your tears soaking into his shirt.
Joel’s expression shifted from panic to a fierce, protective concern. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, holding you close as though he could shield you from the world’s cruelty simply by being there. “What happened?” he repeated, his voice thick with emotion.
Ellie watched in stunned silence, her hands covering her mouth as she absorbed the gravity of the situation. Joel guided you gently inside, his movements tender yet urgent, as if every second mattered. He led you to the living room, helping you sit down on the couch, his touch both steady and soothing.
“Joel... he... he did it again,” you said weakly, your voice barely more than a whisper. The words felt heavy on your lips, each one a painful reminder of what had happened.
Ellie’s confusion turned to alarm as she processed your words, her face pale with concern. Joel, however, understood immediately. His anger was palpable, a storm brewing just beneath the surface. “That son of a bitch,” he cursed slowly, his voice low but seething with fury.
He moved you gently, laying you down on the couch with careful hands. As he began to check you for injuries, his touch was both deliberate and compassionate. When his fingers brushed against your legs and he saw the blood, his expression shifted from anger to a deep, heart-wrenching sorrow.
Joel’s face contorted with grief as he realized the extent of Jamie’s cruelty. He shouted “FUCK!” in a voice that shook the very walls, causing Ellie to flinch and step back in shock. The raw emotion in Joel’s outburst was a stark contrast to his usually composed demeanor.
With a trembling hand, Joel placed his forehead against yours, the warmth of his skin mingling with your tears. For the first time, you saw him cry—silent, heartbroken tears that spoke volumes. His voice was a whisper as he spoke, “I’m going to make sure he pays for this. I promise you.”
You looked into Joel’s brown eyes, feeling a mix of fear and sorrow. The pain in your body was overwhelming, and you could barely comprehend what had just happened. “Joel, it hurts,” you managed to say through your tears.
“I know, baby,” Joel said, his voice filled with tender sorrow. “I know it hurts. We’re going to fix this.”
He turned to Ellie, his voice now frantic. “Ellie, get a bucket of warm water and a napkin, now!” His desperation made Ellie’s hands shake as she hurried to follow his orders.
Returning to you, Joel’s eyes were filled with a mixture of fear and determination. “I need to know, baby,” he said softly, “Did he... did he...”
“Inside of me, Joel,” you sobbed, “He came inside of me.”
Joel's world had never felt so fragile, so perilously close to shattering. The weight of your words bore down on him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown him in a sea of grief and rage. His heart twisted with a pain so fierce it felt as though it might break him in two. Every fiber of his being screamed for vengeance, but right now, his only focus was you—protecting you, comforting you, holding you together when you were on the verge of falling apart.
His breath came in ragged bursts as he fought to control the storm inside him. He pressed his forehead against yours, the gesture tender and desperate, as though he could transfer some of his strength to you, even as his own reserves were dangerously low. His voice, usually so steady and composed, wavered with emotion as he whispered, "He will pay for what he did to you. I swear it."
But your voice, so small and broken, cut through the darkness of his rage. "Joel, I'm scared," you whispered, and the fear in your voice was a knife to his heart.
In that moment, Joel’s protective instincts surged to the forefront. All thoughts of vengeance were pushed aside by the overwhelming need to be there for you, to make sure you knew you weren’t alone. “You’ll be okay, I promise you,” he said, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him. “I’m here. I got you, babygirl.”
Ellie returned with the warm water and napkins, but she paused in the doorway, her breath catching in her throat as she took in the scene before her. Joel’s forehead was still pressed against yours, his eyes closed, as he murmured soft words of comfort. There was a raw, unguarded tenderness in his expression that Ellie had never seen before—an intimacy that spoke of a deep, unspoken connection between the two of you.
She felt a pang of confusion and something else, something she couldn’t quite name, as she watched the way Joel held you. He was always protective, always looking out for her, but this... this was different.
As she handed Joel the bucket and napkins, she kept her gaze on the two of you, trying to reconcile this new reality with the Joel she knew. He was always a guardian, a protector, but this... this was a depth of care and love that shook her to her core.
Joel took the supplies from Ellie with a quiet “thank you,” but his attention never wavered from you. He dipped the napkin in the warm water, his hands gentle and sure as he began to clean your wounds. His touch was reverent, almost like he was handling something sacred, something fragile that he couldn’t bear to see hurt anymore. Each movement was careful, deliberate, as if by caring for your physical wounds, he could somehow heal the ones buried deeper within you.
You watched Joel through tear-filled eyes, seeing the pain etched into every line of his face. It was as if the roles had been reversed—where once he had been your protector, now you saw how deeply he was affected by your suffering, how much he needed you to be okay, not just for your sake, but for his.
Ellie stood by, watching Joel taking care of you, her heart heavy with the weight of this new understanding. She could see the fear and hurt in your eyes, the way you clung to Joel as if he were your lifeline. And Joel... the way he held you, the way he whispered reassurances, it was clear to Ellie that this wasn’t just about protection. This was love, fierce and consuming, and it terrified her as much as it comforted her to see it.
She began to replay moments in her head, memories that had seemed insignificant at the time but now took on a new meaning. There were the sudden, unexplained changes in Joel’s behavior—the way he’d started going to church more often, sitting quietly at the back but always there, as if he were trying to keep an eye on someone.
She remembered conversations she’d had with him, And then there was that offhand remark from Tommy at work, about how Joel had started to “smell like a woman.” At the time, it had just been a joke, something Ellie had brushed off as Tommy teasing his brother. But now, it struck her differently.
And then there was that conversation with you and Emma, the one where you had hesitantly asked Emma and her about falling in love with someone. older. Ellie had laughed it off at first, not thinking much of it, but now those words echoed in her mind, each one slotting into place like pieces of a puzzle she hadn’t even realized she was solving.
The realization hit her like a freight train, knocking the breath out of her. 
***
When they reached your home, the quiet of the night wrapped around the small house like a blanket. Joel and Ellie helped you inside, your steps heavy with exhaustion. Your mother, who had been waiting anxiously, rushed to the door as soon as she saw you, her face pale with worry.
“Oh my God, what happened?!” she exclaimed, her voice trembling as she took in your disheveled appearance, the bruises, the blood. Her hands fluttered helplessly as she looked to Joel for answers.
“There was an accident,” Joel lied smoothly, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him. “She got caught up in a fight between some kids from out of town. It wasn’t her fault, just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Your mother’s eyes widened in horror. “A fight? But—”
“It’s okay,” Joel interrupted gently, his gaze steady and reassuring. “She’s going to be okay. I took care of her, and she just needs some rest now.”
You clung to Joel, your hand gripping his shirt as if he were your lifeline. The pain and fear still echoed in your chest, but with Joel there, you felt a small measure of safety. “Please stay,” you whispered, your voice small and pleading.
Joel’s heart clenched at the sound of your voice, and he stroked your hair gently, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I have something to do, baby,” he murmured. “But I’ll be right back, I promise.”
You nodded, your eyelids heavy as sleep began to pull you under. Joel waited until you were settled in bed, your breathing evening out as you drifted off. Only then did he stand, his eyes lingering on you for a long moment before he turned to your mother.
He walked over to her, his expression serious. “Please,” he said quietly, “don’t tell your husband about this when he comes home tomorrow. She doesn’t need him getting worked up over it, and it won’t help her. Just tell him she had a fall, or something like that.”
Your mother frowned, confusion and concern etched into her features. “But why? He needs to know—”
“Trust me,” Joel cut in, his tone firm. “It’s for the best. I’ll be back in the morning to check on her, I promise.”
After a few more reassurances, Joel finally left with Ellie. The drive back to their house was silent, the air between them thick with unspoken words. When they finally arrived home, Ellie could no longer hold back.
“Joel,” she started, her voice tense as they walked into the house, “what’s going on?"
"What do you mean?"
"What's going on between you and her?"
Joel froze for a moment, his back to Ellie as he hung up his jacket. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, trying to sound casual, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him.
“Don’t lie to me,” Ellie shot back, her voice rising with frustration. “I have eyes, Joel. I saw how you were with her tonight. And it wasn’t just about protecting her—it was more than that."
"She’s... she’s barely older than me! What the hell are you doing?”
Joel finally turned to face her, his expression pained. He knew there was no dodging this, not with the way Ellie was looking at him—like she was trying to make sense of something incomprehensible, something that felt like a betrayal.
“Ellie,” Joel started, his voice low, laden with the weight of his guilt. “I can explain—”
Ellie cut him off, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and disbelief. “Explain what, Joel? That you’re sick? That you’ve lost your fucking mind? How could you do this? How could you even think about her like that?!”
Joel’s heart ached at the venom in her words, the disgust that he could hear so clearly. “It’s not what you think—”
“It’s exactly what I think!” Ellie shouted, her hands shaking as she tried to comprehend the man standing in front of her. “How could you, Joel? How long has this been going on?"
Ellie’s voice wavered, the anger boiling over as she struggled to grasp the reality of the situation. “How long, Joel? How long have you been doing this behind my back? Behind everyone’s back? She’s just a kid! How could you even think about her like that?”
Joel swallowed hard, his mind racing, searching for the right words, but everything seemed wrong. “Ellie, it’s not... I didn’t mean for this to happen. It just... it just did.”
Ellie’s expression hardened, her eyes narrowing as she processed his response. “We both knew her father beat her, Joel!"
Joel’s heart skipped a beat as Ellie’s words hit him like a punch to the gut. “Ellie... how do you know about that?” he asked, his voice low, almost fearful of the answer.
Ellie’s eyes were filled with a mix of anger and sadness. “I’m not blind, Joel. I have eyes. I saw the bruises, the way she flinched when her father was around. And I saw the way she looked at you, the way she leaned on you. That night, dinner at Tommy's I noticed how she clung to you. She was scared, Joel, and I thought you were stepping in to be the father figure she needed. Like you were for me.”
Joel’s chest tightened, the guilt of Ellie’s words cutting deep. He had been so caught up in his own feelings, in his need to protect and care for you, that he hadn’t noticed Ellie was watching, understanding more than he ever gave her credit for.
“But you weren’t just being there for her, were you?” Ellie continued, her voice trembling with accusation. “You were supposed to protect her, Joel. Instead, you... you took advantage of her.”
Joel’s breath hitched, the weight of her accusation pressing down on him like a physical force. “Ellie, no... it wasn’t like that. I protect her,"
Ellie shook her head, disbelief etched into every line of her face. “Protect her? By doing this? By crossing a line that should never have been crossed? How could you, Joel? How could you do this to her?"
Joel’s patience snapped, the fury and desperation he’d been trying to keep in check finally boiling over. “BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVE HER!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the house, raw and unfiltered.
Ellie froze, her breath catching in her throat as she stared at him, wide-eyed. The intensity in his voice, the sheer force of his confession, left her reeling. Joel’s chest heaved with emotion, his eyes wild as he finally let the truth out, the words he’d been too afraid to admit even to himself.
“I love her,” Joel repeated, his voice breaking as the weight of it all crashed down on him. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did. She’s not just some kid to me, Ellie. She’s everything. And I know it’s wrong, I know it’s messed up, but I can’t help it. I love her, and I’m not gonna let anything happen to her.”
Ellie stared at him, her mind racing to process what she’d just heard. The Joel she knew, the man who had become her family, was now a stranger to her in this moment. She could see the pain in his eyes, the sincerity, but it only made it harder to reconcile.
“You’re out of your mind,” Ellie whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and fear. “This isn’t love, Joel. It can’t be.”
Joel shook his head, his eyes pleading with her to understand. “It is, Ellie. I wish I could change it, but I can’t. I love her, and I’m gonna protect her, no matter what. Even if that means keeping her safe from me.”
She didn’t know what to say. "And I will make sure the person who did this to her pay," Joel said again.
Ellie stared at Joel, her emotions a tangled mess of fear, love, and resignation. Joel had been more than just a guardian to her; he was the closest thing to a father she’d ever known. The thought of losing him, or of watching him spiral into something dangerous, tore at her heart. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a path that could only lead to disaster.
“Joel,” Ellie began, her voice shaky, “I don’t want to lose you. You’re my father, and I love you. But this… what you and she are doing… it scares me. What if her father finds out? He’s not just going to let this slide. What if Tommy finds out? What if the whole town finds out?”
Joel’s face tightened, the weight of her words pressing down on him. He knew she was right. The risks were enormous, and the consequences could be devastating, not just for him, but for you, for Ellie, for everyone involved. But despite all of that, he couldn’t turn away from what he felt.
“I know, Ellie,” Joel said, his voice heavy with guilt. “I know what could happen, and it scares the hell out of me too. But I can’t… I can’t lose her..."
Ellie looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and something like acceptance. “I just hope you know what you’re doing, Joel. I don’t want to see you hurt, or worse. And I don’t want to see her hurt either.”
Joel nodded, swallowing hard. “I’ll do everything I can to protect her, Ellie. And I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe too. I promise.”
Ellie sighed, the fight leaving her as she came to a reluctant acceptance. “If she makes you happy, Joel… then I guess that’s what matters. But please, be careful. This could blow up in your face in ways you can’t even imagine.”
Joel reached out, this time placing a hand on her shoulder, his touch gentle and reassuring. “Thank you, Ellie. Thank you,"
note: FUCKKK i think chapter 7 and 8 are shit, i promise i'll be better
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accioscarheadthings · 5 months ago
Text
↳ 𝗖𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗱𝗲 - 𝗢𝗶𝗸𝗮𝘄𝗮 𝗧𝗼𝗼𝗿𝘂 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
summary: where oikawa gets you jealous by entertaining his fan club and you teach him a lesson
pairings: brat!oikawa x athelete! fem! reader
warning: smut, 18+, edging, sub!oikawa, praise kink, orgasm denial, voyerism, cumming in clothes, just filth. (not proofread, will do it later:))
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main masterlist !
oikawa stood on the court surrounded by his usual troupe of fangirls, his signature smirk firmly in place. they were all gathered around him, chattering excitedly and trying to get his attention.
he was used to having them all over him, but sometimes it got a little tiresome. in the midst of the chattering and giggling, oikawa caught sight of you watching from the stands where you were seated and leaned back.
his breath hitched at the sight of you. he couldn't take his eyes off of you.
you were sitting in the stands, wearing your team's jersey and shorts, the fabric clinging to your curves like a second skin.
the tight shorts hugged your thighs, accentuating their plump, velvety softness, the hem stopping halfway up your thighs, leaving little to the imagination. The way the shorts outlined your curves made Oikawa's mouth go dry, and he couldn't help but stare at the way they clung to your body, drawing attention to your alluring thighs.
your chest glistened with a fine layer of sweat, and the heat of the day and your recent practice left you flushed. your legs were spread wide and you were leaning back in your seat.
your cheeks were tinted with a rosy hue, and your mouth was parted as you took a sip from your water bottle.
you looked relaxed and comfortable in your own skin, completely unaware of the effect you were having on your boyfriend.
oikawa wanted to approach you, to touch you, to taste you. but he was frozen in place, unable to move as he watched you with wide eyes.
you kept your eyes locked on him; your lips closed around the mouth of the water bottle, taking a long drink.
oikawa's eyes zeroed in on your mouth, watching the way your lips moved, the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed.
he could feel himself getting aroused at the sight before him.
but you on the other hand, weren't so pleased with your view. how could you be, when your boyfriend was being hoarded by his fan club?
you had hurried from your practice to visit your boyfriend in the gymnasium, and here he was, amidst the company of his fangirls.
one of the girls hugged him and he reciprocated it my patting her back.
you shot him a stern stare, the message in your eyes clear: "you're pushing it."
oikawa could feel the excitement bubbling within him, the thrill of defying you and indulging in the adoration of his fangirls almost too tempting to resist.
he knew he was playing with fire, but the thought of it made his heart race.
as you lowered the water bottle from your lips, you glanced up and spotted iwaizumi heading your way, sending him a genuine smile.
oikawa watched as iwaizumi kissed your forehead in affection and bid you farewell, carrying his gym bag.
after he was done with satiating his fangirls, he sauntered towards the stands where you were seated.
"enjoyed the show, sweetheart?" he teased.
big mistake. you glared up at him through your lashes.
oikawa chuckled as he saw the annoyed look on your face. he knew that you didn't like his fangirls surrounding him, but he couldn't help but enjoy the attention they gave him.
without a reply, you patted the empty seat next to you, indicating for him to sit and he did.
you rested your free hand on his bare thigh, thumb circling his knee.
oikawa shivered slightly at your possessive touch, the heat from your fingers seeping through the fabric of his shorts.
he swallowed hard, feeling a mix of guilt and desire coursing through his veins.
he knew he was in trouble, but the way your touch felt on his skin was intoxicating. he desperately wanted to lean into your hand, to have you closer to him.
"did you have fun, sweetheart?" you set your water bottle down on the floor.
oikawa chuckled at your snarky question. he knew you were talking about his fangirls being all over him, and he knew that it bothered you.
"i'm always having fun," he replied, his voice dripping with arrogance. "What's not fun about having plenty of cute girls hanging all over you?"
you gripped his thigh in warning.
oikawa couldn't help but gasp, feeling your dominating touch. he leaned in closer to you, his voice low and sultry, "jealous, are we?" he teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
"don't test me, my love," you warned, caressing his thigh, "or do you want me to fuck that attitude outta you?"
oikawa shuddered. he knew you only used that term of endearment when you got possessive and territorial.
he put up his hands in mock surrender, a smile playing on his lips, "alright, alright. i'll behave," he said, trying to appease you.
"but u didn't, did you?" you inched your hand up.
his breath hitched as your hand moved up his thigh, stopping just millimeters away from his crotch.
he swallowed, his eyes widening and tried to compose himself, "no," he breathed with parted lips, his voice a little shaky, "I didn't behave."
oikawa leaned closer to you, his eyes darting around to make sure no one was watching. he could feel your touch becoming more daring, more possessive.
"what? want one of your fangirl to join us?" you scoffed in defiance.
oikawa's eyes widened at your words, a mix of surprise and embarrassment on his face, his cheeks flushing bright red at the thought.
"n-no!" he stuttered, a look of shock and horror on his face, "what are you talking about? i don’t want any of them to join us! I want you, only you!"
you cupped him through his shorts, feeling his bulge grow slowly, "you sure?" you squeezed his cock lightly in emphasis.
oikawa let out a low moan as you squeezed him, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. he swallowed, his voice weak as he responded.
"y-yes, i'm sure," he stuttered. "i only want you. no one else,"
you leaned up and smooched his jaw, "good boy,"
oikawa let out a soft moan, his body melting under your touch. he loved it when you praised him like that, it made him feel wanted and desired.
oikawa quickly caught your wrist as a thought struck him, "babe, w-won't, ah," he inhaled sharply, "won't somebody see us? we can't do this here,"
"no," you stated confidently, "the shadows of the gym falls right over us, so, from the volleyball court, we're practically out of eyesight,"
using your fingers, you traced the outline of his bulge through the material of his shorts, the material leaving nothing to the imagination.
"no one's gonna catch us, and i'm gonna teach you a fucking lesson,"
oikawa's chest heaved a little as he tried to control his breathing. he knew he was in trouble now, and he couldn't deny that he was enjoying it.
"a lesson?" he asked, his voice a little shaky, "what kind of lesson, my love?"
"the kind that you get when you're being a brat," you ghosted you index finger over the head of his hardness, causing him to grip the armrest of the bleachers hard.
oikawa knew he was in the wrong for letting his fangirls get so close to him, especially after knowing how much it bothered you.
he knew he should have set stronger boundaries, but he had been enjoying the attention they gave him.
he looked at you, his expression sheepish. "i'm sorry, my love," he said, his voice soft, "it won't happen again,"
"tsk tsk," you tutted, fingers at the base of his crotch, teasing through his shorts still, "sorry doesn't cut it. this is what you get for being a brat,"
the touch of your fingers was driving him crazy, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he tried to control himself.
you stroked your palm over his shorts with the right amount of pressure as the cloth provided the needed friction.
oikawa let out a soft, needy moan as he nuzzled his face into your neck, his body pressed against yours as if he were trying to mold himself into you.
to an outsider, it would simply look like an adorable gesture of affection.
but you knew better. you knew that he was deep in subspace, and that he was completely at your mercy.
"please," he groaned, his hands gripping the edge of the seat so tightly his knuckles were turning white, "please, darling. i’m trying so hard to be good for you but I don’t know how much longer i can hold back,"
he mouth at the column of your neck, tongue tracing up as he tasted your sweat as a result of your practice session. he continued to place wet languid kisses on your neck, mouthing pathetically.
you sighed, pleased with his actions. you increased the pace of your strokes, muttering promises that you'd fulfill for the stunt he pulled.
"you sit back nice and pretty for me, while I'll have you come undone for me over and over and over again until you're nothing but a crying mess," you muttered against his temple, gripping his clothed cock.
"and then," you kissed his temple, "i'd fuck some sense into you so you'd know not to go your merry little way and get me jealous,"
"yes," he groaned out, his voice filled with need. "please, make me a mess. let me come undone for you. i’ll do anything, just let me touch you. i need you, darling. i need you so badly. i’ll be such a good boy, I promise," he blubbered, pulling back from your neck to gaze at you.
you hummed in appreciation, increasing the pace of your strokes.
oikawa's breathing picked up as you rubbed his length faster, his body trembling as he focused on your touch. he closed his eyes, his head falling back with a gasp, "i’m close," he breathed out, his voice shaky, "please…please don’t stop, darling."
you raised your brows, "already?" you slowed your movements, just as he was about to come.
he nodded, leaned his head on your shoulder, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. he couldn’t believe how much your touch was affecting him, "i can’t help it," he admitted, his voice strained. "your touch…it’s driving me crazy, ahh"
he clung to you, his body pressed against yours as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. his arms were wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you close to him.
"babe," he murmured, his voice desperate and needy, "please don’t be mad at me. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. just keep touching me, hnngg,"
oikawa resumed snuggling his face into the crook of your neck. his kisses were sloppy and desperate, his lips moving hungrily over the skin of your neck.
he was practically leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses from your collarbone to your jawline, his tongue tracing a path behind his lips as he let out soft, needy moans.
i turned my head in his direction, my mouth a breath away from his.
oikawa’s eyes were lidded with desire, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he stared at you.
he was desperate to feel your lips on his, to taste your mouth, to feel your tongue against his. he was completely lost in the moment, his mind a haze of need and want.
"uh, darling," he slurred, "kiss me, please,"
you complied with his wish and pressed your mouth to his, teeth digging into his soft plump lips.
oikawa let out a low moan as your lips crashed against his, his body arching into yours as you kissed him hard. he returned the kiss with just as much fervor, his tongue eagerly seeking entry into your mouth.
the bite startled him, but he didn’t pull away, instead, he let out a soft whimper, submitting completely to your possessive bite.
when your tongue soothed the burn of the bite, he sucked it into his mouth, his body curving into yours.
you parted your lips better to give him access, humming in delight.
oikawa felt himself spasm as he came, letting out a soft gasp as wave after wave of pleasure washed over him. his face was buried in its place against your neck, his breath coming out in labored gasps.
he was utterly embarrassed by the fact that he had come just from a kiss, and he buried his face further into your skin, not wanting you to see him.
"please don’t laugh at me," he murmured, his voice soft, "i couldn’t help it, you just…you make me feel so good," he stammered, trying to explain himself, "i can’t help how my body reacts to you,"
you chuckled darkly, holding his face to your neck, "shh, my love," you soothed, "s'alright,"
oikawa’s face burned in embarrassment, his body trembling against you. his shorts were soiled with his release and he could feel his legs shaking, the aftermath of his orgasm still coursing through his body. his shorts were soiled with his release and
he let out a shaky breath, his voice soft as he spoke, “sorry,” he mumbled, his cheeks flushing red, “i couldn’t help it,”
"it's okay, my beautiful," you cooed, "you made such pretty noises for me,"
oikawa’s cheeks burned even more red at your words, his heart fluttering in his chest.
no one has ever called him beautiful before, and meant it.
and the way you said it made his stomach feel like fireworks were going off. he buried his face further into your neck, embarrassed and shy, “please don’t tease me,” he mumbled, his voice soft, “i can’t handle it when you say things like that,”
"my poor baby," you babied him, gently prying off his fingers from the armrest that were in deathly grip. you raised them to your mouth, pressing a kiss to each digit.
oikawa’s face turned even redder and his heart feeling like it was going to burst out of his chest. he was completely under your spell, his mind fuzzy with affection and desire.
he gazed at you with wide, puppy-like eyes, his hand gripping yours tightly, “please…please don’t stop,” he whispered, his voice needy and desperate, “I need more of you,”
you smoothed back the hair from his forehead and assured him, "don't worry. I have plenty planned for you when we get home, love. And you're not going to be able to get away from me."
oikawa's breath hitched at the authoritative tone in your voice. he knew he was in for a long night and couldn't wait to be completely under your control.
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project-sekai-facts · 19 days ago
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do u think prsk writing is good?
it's inconsistent. sometimes it's pretty good, sometimes it's not so good. this is something i would like to go way more indepth on but i don't think i'll have the time for a while, but i'll outline a few things here.
honestly early events are much stronger than some more recent ones. partially this is preference on my part due to preferring more character driven stuff which most early events were, but also in general the writing was much higher quality.
most year one events had a very strong sense of flow between them that has been lost over time. while events usually revolved around one character's issues, they would introduce aspects of the other characters and their issues which would be focused on later. if you read wonder halloween you'll notice there's foreshadowing for emu's arc across smile of dreamer and wonder magical showtime. this is partially because of the fact the events were so early on. we weren't as familiar with the characters as we are now and we were also new to the plots. you can also see how much more cohesive stories were back then as well because of there being way more mixed events marked as key story, like twilight parade and sakura for ln and picnic for n25. while most events still pick up from where the previous left off the sense of flow for most units just isn't felt as strongly as it was going through, say, l/n arc 1.
it also in some ways feels like the writers had a much stronger vision for early events than they do now, though distribution meta may come into play a bit. first arcs were the ones planned from the getgo. this is what they had already planned ahead for by launch. pretty much everything past year 1 was written after the game launched. we know they have a clear end, and it's evident they also had a clear start. we're currently filling in the middle and some events really feel like there's a slight lack of vision for the middle. vbs is a good aversion what with rad weekend having happened (aside from arata and souma's arcs lmfao), but other units and characters feel shafted.
to add to that last point as well as distribution meta. tsukasa5 is arguably one of the hardest hit. what seems to have happened is that they needed a second wxs event to focus on daigo's troupe, and tsukasa is the character who is most fitting for that troupe's speciality. unfortunately in order to come up with the actual plot, they had to retcon elements of tsukasa's character. tsukasa5 overall is probably one of the worst written of the recent events. it's really rough and doesn't make sense in some parts. it truly just exists bc they needed a wxs event with daigo and a wxs event in that slot.
kanade is another character who got hit hard. while she had the white day event in 2024, she was heavily shafted in terms of n25's story due to the focus being on mizuki and ena for half the year. mafuyu and ena's events were also very focused on them as individuals, leading to kanade getting like no character development for a year.
for non-2024 examples the 2nd arc enders were a mixed bag. step by step is very clearly a shoe-in because they needed to pad for time. retie functions perfectly well as an arc ender and reads like one in a few places, especially near the end. while minori had some good moments in this event it honestly feels like a mixed event. hell look at the banner card. shizuku and airi are also only in this event for a few lines of dialogue it's really rough.
oyf is incredibly rushed and tries to wrap up way too many loose ends from lutf. it feels like this arc was cut short, and you can really feel it in arc 3 when all the loose ends that still existed after oyf get their proper conclusion. side characters barring kotaro excluded, tatsuya and gurney flap had the shittest resolutions ever (tatsuya is also. barely a character lol). kohane had some good moments here, but other than that it was a really weak event.
same can be said for ohe they really needed more time and it's painfully obvious considering how much foreshadowing they did with rui only for... him to get one chapter in an emu event. there's some other things that really make this feel like it was meant to be rui or be two events one rui one emu, like the travelling troupe show. remember when rui wrote that show about his life and wxs rewrote it to show him he had a place with them. clpl doesn't. obviously it's always been important to all of them but it's significance to rui specifically has always been highlighted for obvious reasons. hell it was even mentioned in wxs first live like a couple weeks before this event dropped. while again this has good emu moments and good wxs moments it's painfully obvious at points that this was either a rui focus at one point or they combined two events. i wonder if part of the reason for that is because they realised that rui graduates at the end of the next arc so "wxs disbandment arc 2" (tentative name) will probably be more centered around him, especially with asahi's return looming over the story, and they didn't wanna make it seem like they did the same character arc with him twice.
sayonara persona and starry song are fine.
clpl really fucked themselves over with wles and the event schedule lol.
another issue with the writing from a technical standpoint is that recent events have really obnoxious exposition. listen i know we all make fun of people who only read chapter 1 and 8 of an event but did you know that actually works. you can sometimes even just read chapter 8. there's this need to constantly remind the player of stuff that happened earlier on in the event, sometimes in gratuitous detail, and i can understand why this might be necessary for the really long events like lutf or curtain call, but most events since 3rd anni have been under 1hr 30, in most cases just over an hour. the player can retain significant events that happened in the previous chapter. we don't need it constantly explained and it can actually make the audience less engaged if you constantly treat them like they don't understand what's going on. even for a game aimed at the tween/teen demographic you don't need to handhold them through the story. while yes younger audiences won't have the same literacy as an adult you should also trust that they can follow the basic story and read into basic subtext (honestly prsk is usually fine with subtext this is just an example).
"outline a few things" my ass this is pretty much everything i wanted to say. i do games writing next year and i think we cover VNs so maybe i can provide more insight then if the blog isn't dead.
(obligatory i'm not saying you can't like the events i outlined here i'm just saying that from an objective standpoint they're not the best. doesn't mean you can't find enjoyment in them. like whatever you want i'm not here to dictate your opinions)
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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 26 days ago
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About Malleus new years card, given how heavily Japanese culture it goes into. It might be a hagoromo, a white cloth/scarf that floats in the air around a goddess. Given that Malleus is the strongest mage, it might be a symbolism of that. Even so it's used for goddess, Vil and a few others worn clothing meant for women. It wouldn't be unusual to be used for Malleus.
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[Referencing this post!]
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These asks are all about the fashion of the New Year’s Attire cards and how they relate to Japanese culture, so I thought to combine them ^^
Since I’m responding to three asks in one post and it takes a while to explain things, I’ve placed everything under the cut :> There’s a lot of discussion of Japanese clothing, culture. and folklore in this, so if you’re interested in those topics then you’re in for a treat!!
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To the first ask: Though Twst is fairly gender fluid when it comes to dressing its characters, I'm certain that's not a 羽衣 (hagoromo/"feather garment/cloak"; typically worn by celestial women in Japanese mythos). Hagoromo are thinner, longer, and more scarf-like than what is depicted in Malleus's initial card art. You can tell that he's clearly got a sheet that covers his entire body there. The fabric also doesn't appear to be floating like a hagoromo would.
The first two images depict 被衣 (kazuki/katsugi); the latter two images depict 羽衣 (hagoromo); you can see there is a notable visual distinction between them.
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To the second ask: It’s possible that the artists looked at kabuki fashion for inspiration, but they most likely did not base the entirety of the New Year’s Attire outfits on that alone. As Yana states in one March 2023 interview, she and her team try to avoid creating outfits that too closely resemble a single real-world culture or brand. To that end, they seem to pull their inspiration from many different cultures and time periods, which is why you'll see a mixture of traditional and modern Japanese elements in the New Year’s Attire.
歌舞伎 or Kabuki, for those who don't know, is classical form of Japanese theatre which mixes dramatic performances with traditional music and dance. I consulted with a few friends who are familiar with Japanese culture (hereby referred to as A-ko, B-ko, C-ko, and D-ko) about the topic and they had some enlightening information to share. Because I am not familiar with the art form or how to gauge it myself, I will be relaying the information provided by those friends in addition to my own research. A-ko informed me that kabuki used to be co-ed (or at least did feature women; the first kabuki troupe formed was all-women) and modern kabuki is all-men. As for the poses, B-ko remarked that they can be considered common "festival dance poses", not strictly kabuki poses. C-ko added, "[...] There is very little, if anything, kabuki-like about the New Year’s cards apart from possibly SOME of the poses [...] Jack is probably the most kabuki we’re going to get because of the dynamic palm thrust and gaudy composition of his attire." The eye makeup being red and of that design also invokes the image of kabuki makeup without it fully committing to its extravagance!
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Overall, the group seemed to agree that the New Year’s Attires lack the over-the-top expressions and elaborate costumes of kabuki. There’s also the more obvious lack of full-face stage makeup, but it’s kind of a given that Twst is wouldn’t go this route, especially since the context of these cards is helping out in a store and not putting on a dramatic performance.
On the topic of Malleus and oni (Japanese yōkai, demon, orc, ogre, or troll), I don't think he's intended to look like one??? Sure, he has the horns, but as B-ko said, "[Malleus] always has those horns." Very little in his actual outfit resembles the costume a kabuki actor playing the part of an oni would wear--unless you count the excessive black, as that's a color typically used for oni, but that black is usually paired with red. As for the hair styling, D-ko explained, "Oni usually don't have hair [...]". I find it interesting that some oni masks I found do seem to have hair, but it's usually very sparse omg balding!Malleus real???? and/or a middle part and not the sideways part that Malleus is sporting. Additionally, while oni do have horns, the shape of them is nothing like Malleus’s.
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It's true that fur is rarely seen in historical Japanese clothes, but they don't seem to be that common in kabuki either?? According to C-ko, "fur and pelts [...] were a luxury few could afford. Thus, only those people decorated with furs would be royalty or individuals vying for power.
B-ko suggested that the reason why Jack wears fur in his New Year’s Attire isn’t to emulate Kabuki—which tends to feature fluffy wigs, like the one pictured below—but to emphasize his “wolf”-ness and to keep him warm from the cold. C-ko pointed out, however, that “[…] fur accents (like what Jack has) became the trademark for popular and celebrated figures [...] towards the end of the warring states period; when kabuki came into vogue, many plays were inspired by the lives of such personae as well as the legends surrounding them. This is why much of kabuki is characterized by the term basara—of grandeur and ostentatious eccentricity. The actors themselves would not have had access to furs, so they focused instead upon conveying that same sort of energy through their theatrics and outlandish couture. They still used substitutes, of course.” C-ko also added, “The most memorable kabuki roles feature things like fur—which many associate with kabuki.”
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Finally, the group altogether said that, “Vil isn’t [dressed like] a geisha. His outfit bears no resemblance to what geisha wears.” 芸者 or Geisha are highly trained Japanese hostesses who entertain guests with song, dance, and conversation—furthermore, there’s a rigorous training process and a very specific appearance they take on. Makeup aside (if Twst is not doing kabuki makeup, why would they do geisha makeup?), a feminine figure and long, flowing kimono is not enough to get the “the look”. B-ko commented, “[…] Calling Vil [dressing like] a geisha just because he wore a feminine kimono […] Like, damn. Does that mean every woman who wears that style [of a] kimono is a geisha now?” It takes considerable time and dedication to achieve this to earn the title; it’s not meant to be taken lightly!
From D-ko, “Overall Vil’s outfit is kinda westernized.” This is due to the hat, gloves, bows, fishnets, and laced collar. A traditional geisha’s outfit lacks the bells and whistles that Vil’s design boasts. The silhouette also seems to be wrong. Why? “Because technically you try to make your silhouette as not curvy as possible when wearing a kimono,” but Vil’s silhouette appears more hourglass-like. The devil is in the details!!
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Lastly, to the third ask: Going to skip over talking about Jack's umbrella pose and the kabuki inspiration, since I already addressed that earlier in this post! I'll briefly add that it's not for sure that Malleus is meant to be a certain thing unless Yana and/or her team come out and say it. B-ko agreed, saying "I don't think you can say Malleus is definitely [Ushiwakamaru], since I literally gave [other examples of what] he's dressed like [...] I can understand 'taking inspirations from', though..."
In the final ask, Anon remarks that Jack and Malleus's looks may be inspired by that of 弁慶 (Benkei) and 牛若丸 (Ushiwakamaru), two characters from Japanese folklore. Ushiwakamaru is the nickname of Minamoto no Yoshitsune, who, according to C-ko, "[...] fought and recruited his loyal vassal Benkei in a fabled confrontation on a bridge." While some elements of Jack and Malleus's New Year's Attires resemble what Ushiwakamaru and Benkei are usually depicted wearing--especially Malleus's veil--not all of it matches up. For example, as B-ko notes, "[...] what Malleus is wearing under the veil isn't what Ushiwakamaru is wearing, but looks [like] more of a kannushi (神主/"divine master (of ceremonies; often Shinto clergy)")." B-ko linked this site and recommended checking it out to make clothing comparisons; the kannushi garb was just an item they picked out for similarities on a cursory glance. This brings me back to a point I mentioned in the second ask: Twst's fashion takes inspiration from many sources and blends them.
"I think it really boils down to [Malleus and Jack] evoking the atmosphere of that famous [Ushiwakamaru and Benkei] print," C-ko continues. They drew comparisons between Malleus, a character twisted from Maleficent (commonly depicted with her raven Diablo), and Usiwakamaru, who is the disciple of a tengu {crow/raven yokai). They also compared Jack, a steadfast and virtuous individual, with Benkei, who is a monk with similar traits. Furthermore, in the famous folklore story, Benkei is depicted as having felled 999 men before facing off against Usiwakamaru, a supernatural force. So, like Jack, Benkei is a powerful combatant up against an even more powerful supernatural force, Usiwakamaru/Malleus.
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jxxbisbsjJvsjsb I didn’t think we’d be talking about Japanese fashion, history, and folklore to this extent, but here we are 🤩 I hope that, if you’re reading this, maybe you learned something new and interesting from the post!! I know I certainly did while chatting up my friends.
P.S. Thank you to A-ko, B-ko, C-ko, and D-ko for their knowledge and perspectives! Couldn’t have written this without you.
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citrus-writing · 8 months ago
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yandere phantom troupe- pain
Lenient yanderes who rarely use punishments- chrollo, pakunoda, machi, hisoka 
Pakunoda- 
Pakunoda is the first to come to mind. She’d hate to hurt you, and because of that, she leans towards rewards for good behavior instead of punishments for bad behavior. Even if she had to hurt you, she makes a point to be quick about it- pain sharp, but it fades quickly, barely a mark on you. 
Chrollo- 
Chrollo is lenient with you unless you fight back too much. He understands screaming and crying when you discover you can never go home. He understands not being able to keep down food for the first week you spend with him. He understands when you cower from him- after all, this must be frightening for you. But things like trying to escape, trying to hurt yourself, trying to hurt him (you don't even come close, but he hates it all the same) can't be tolerated. To start, it’s not so bad. The first time you try to escape, he doesn't even break bones. 
Machi- 
Machi doesn't really have too many rules for you in the first place; don't try to escape, don't fight back, but other than that, she mostly lets you live inside your shared home however you’d like. In fact, as opposed to the others who want to occupy every second of your time, machi prefers you have solo hobbies, like reading, writing, drawing… sewing. If you do something she doesn't like, the verbal reprimand is brutal. 
Hisoka- 
Hisoka is an odd one, because he’s not opposed to hurting you, but he doesn't use physical punishments regardless. He likes the sense of independence and self that you have, and he tries to avoid breaking it down. He doesn't want to break you down into his own image like a lot of the others, because he wants to keep your mind mostly intact. In fact, he almost tries to encourage you to act out. How lenient is he really? And is he really so careless that he left the front door unlocked? 
Yanderes that use extreme punishments- feitan, illumi 
Illumi- 
Illumi uses punishments to keep you in line, he has strict rules for you to follow, from the moment you wake up to the moment you go to bed. Most of them aren't too hard to follow- just play along with his domestic fantasy and you’ll be ok. It’s humiliating, and it’s demeaning, but if you play the part well enough, he won't have to hurt you. The problem is these rules aren't really spelled out for you? Wasn't accepting tea from your new mother in law a good thing? Broken jaw. Wasn't the friendly wave to your new brother in law playing into the fantasy illumi had created? Broken hand. 
Feitan- 
Feitan is particularly mixed up. He hates having feelings for you at all, and he deliberately takes it out on you. Afterall, it’s your fault he feels like this. Your’e sleeping in bed, curled up in the blankets, looking so cute he can hardly breathe- you feel his boot connect with your ribs, and you can't even cry out before he’s pulling you out of bed. You’re in the basement, watching him torture a man strapped down to the table, and your eyes meet fetian’s for just a moment- he reminds you that he’s not above gouging out both those pretty eyes of yours. He’s duel edged, because if you’re bad, then you're subjected to punishments. But if you're good, it makes him feel helpless, and you have to pay for that. 
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sparda-soully · 29 days ago
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Disturbance of the Peace
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Parents Fyolai x adopted, daughter! reader
Headups: Strictly PLATONIC with reader! Fyodor and Nikolai are husbands bc yes. Fyodor, Nikolai, and some other characters may be OOC so I apologize for that. Just silly fun with the Dostoevsky-Gogol Family!!
Just writing this to highlight the fluff, found family troupe and totally not bc my husband (ahem, Fukuzawa) was like that in the latest chapter 😇. Hope you enjoy this!!
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Sounds of water were dripping against the acrylic sink. Soon, a brushing noise was followed afterwards. In the mirror, a young girl — who looked about seven years old — was seen brushing her teeth with a light blue toothbrush. Her outfit was pajamas with tiny strawberries scattered across her pants. She carefully move her toothbrush back and forth in small strokes as to not damage her gums; father said to be careful after all!....Although papa highly encouraged her to do so as it was supposedly "fun". Yeah right.
Getting every nook and cranny of her teeth, she gathered water into a small cup, raising it to her lips. She tooked a gulp of water, swirling and gargling the water mixed with the toothpaste before spitting the fluid out. Then, filling her palms with the lukewarm water, she washed her face, relinquishing the sudden warmth. The faucet turned, shutting the water off. With her eyes closed, she fiddled her fingers around, trying to feel where she left her towel at. Upon reaching the area she left it at, her fingers didn't made any contact with the soft material.
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'...That's weird. I thought I put it here', you thought, finally opening your eyes. You ignored the wetness that was drenched on your face in favor of searching for your towel. Your e/c eyes stared at the marble countertop, blinking in confusion as the realization caught up to you. The towel where you originally placed it at was missing, making you utterly perplexed. "...Huh..?", you mumbled, standing there.
You were sure you placed it there; there was no way it disappeared! Unless if it was–. As if you finally caught on about the mysterious disappearance of your towel, a voice called behind you. "Why hello little dove! How is my favorite girl doin'?", an eccentric voice inquired. Turning around, you were greeted with your papa, Nikolai bending down at your height. His visible bluish grey eye pierced directly into your e/c eyes, seemingly staring into your soul.
"папа..?", you said his name which earn you a bigger smile. Frenzied, exotic laughter erupted from his lips, sharp teeth made its appearance. "Bingo! That's me", he cheered, still staring straight at you without blinking. His smile etched further on his face, stretching across cheeks until it finally reached its limit. The two of you maintained eye contact, not breaking it at all as if the two of y'all were cats quietly sneaking up upon your prey.
Silence loomed over the two of you until you decided to break it. "What are you doing here?", you asked, finally blinking which made you lose the game the two of you were silently engaged in. Hearing your question, your papa swiftly stand back up in a dramatic way. "Oh poor me! My own daughter doesn't want to see me, how utterly terrible! You don't care about your dear old dad? Who could've raise such monster", he whined, placing his hands over his heart as he wore a crestfallen expression.
"Eh? No! I mean–What are you doing back home early? You and отец were busy with Uncle Sigma and Grandpa with something", you mentioned. Immediately, Nikolai's expression shifted into a beaming one. "Well we're finished now! So come on and let's play some games. Ooo, how about Go Fish, Patty Cake? Or how about Stab the Jester? It's your favorite!", he sprouted game suggestions. Your papa was big on the idea of games, after all kids your age were supposed to enjoy their youth so here comes the introduction of games! Although, they all have his own little spin of his twisted mind especially that last one but we don't talk about that! That's for later.
Your eyes sparkled, practically beaming at the idea of playing your favorite game, Stabbing the Jester. You wished you could played but unfortunately, one you had school tomorrow and two you still have to find your lost towel. Giving your papa a sad smile, you slowly shook your head which made him have a confused look. His daughter never turned down his amazing ideas so why now?
"Sorry papa, but I have school tomorrow. You know, father will scold me and you if he catches us playing games this late at night", you explained, giving him an apologetic look. It was true, your father was strict and stern when it came to your studies, wanting you to sleep early and study to exceed your brilliant intelligence further. It was a significant contrast to your papa who was the whimsical, quirky parent that spoils their child rotted. "Ugh who cares what Fedya said? We'll keep it a secret, pinky promise!", he proposed, lifting his pinky and wiggling it in the air, eagerly encouraging you to entangled your pinky with his. As tempting as it was, you still didn't want to face your father's wrath.
Still, you shook your head which made Nikolai pouted, his eyes narrowing at your declination. "No thanks, I don't wanna deal with father's punishment. Besides I need to find my towel...", you gazed around, trying to search for your towel. Hearing that you were looking for your towel, Nikolai's face suddenly faltered into a cheeky, evil smirk. His teeth flashed at you as a glint of anticipation and excitement glimmered in his bluish eye. Uh oh. Before you could speak, he cuts you off with a big grin.
"Quiz time!", those two words made you mentally groaned to yourself. If he's doing one of his quiz, that means he has an answer to it. "Where do you think you put your towel at?", he inquired, putting his pinky finger down. He brought his hands behind his back, letting his black and white cape draped over him. A mischievous expression formed on his face, tugging his lips into a big smile. "It was on the counter but it's gone...so that means y-", before you could finished, your papa interrupted you.
"Ding Ding Ding! Did you say I used my ability? Well you're indeed correct my маленький ангел!", he spoiled the answer out of his own excitement that was surging within him. You sighed, already fed up with his antics. Glancing up at him, you gave him a look which made him chuckled. Nikolai was amused by your behavior; he wanted to spend time with you right now since he was practically gone by the moment you woke up because the Decay of Angels had a meeting all of a sudden. So, he'll do whatever it is to keep you and himself entertain, even if that meant preventing you from getting sleep.
You were about to ask him to give it back when you felt something soft patting your cheek. Averting your eyes to your right, you saw an orange portal with Nikolai's dark magenta glove grasping the towel. He gently wiped your wet face with slow strokes as if you were a delicate kitten. You noticed your papa's visible eye softened with a look of content and love swirling in them. It was a rare sight to see your papa like this, deep in a trance while gently taking care of you like any good parent would for their kids.
After he dried your face, he bop your nose, shooting a wink at you which made you giggle. He deactivated his ability, placing the towel back on the counter. Briskly, he scooped you into his arms, lifting you and tossing you up in the air. High pitched squeals and laughter escaped from you when you were latched in the air. As he threw you up in the air, he skillfully and efficiently moved out of the bathroom and into your bedroom while tossing you up and down like a ragdoll. It was a normal occurrence for you and your papa; yeah it wasn't ideal and was dangerous for numerous reasons but if you're happy and having fun, then he'll continued toss you in the air just for you to be a free bird spreading its wings and soaring through the air. This process repeated for some time, disturbing your sleep schedule.
It seems like that high pitched noises and laughter drawn another person's presence. Footsteps stride towards your bedroom with precise, fluent movement. A pale hand grasped your doorknob, turning it to the side before opening it fully. I guess the fits of excitement drowned the noise of someone coming in. "Y/n. Koyla", a monotone voice made you and your papa directed y'all's gaze towards the man standing by the doorway. Instantly, Nikolai stopped throwing you in the air, still carrying you in his arms. A surprised gaze washed over his face as your hands clutched your papa's two-toned jacket. Your heart skipped a beat, sweat dripped down your brow as you stared at your father in a look that children gave to their parents when they did something wrong.
Sharp, dark purple eyes glared at you, making you shy away from him. You buried your face into your papa's clothes, wrinkling his attire greatly. "Nikolai, why are you pestering our child with your foolish antics? It's passed her bed time", his thick Russian accent accentuate his sterness. His husband just blinked at his words, slightly pouting at his serious partner; readjusting you in his arms, he made sure you weren't fully looking at your father. "But Fedya! It's only 9:30 pm, and I haven't seen my favorite dove at all! Just let us have some father-daughter time for a bit", he whined, drastically swaying his body from side to side. Fydor just stared, unfazed by his actions or whiny voice. This was the man he choose to married...so of course he'll be used to his tomfoolery.
"No. She has school tomorrow", your father begins to sauntered towards you two. His long coat fell behind him with each stride he took. He gave Nikolai a look, but Nikolai still had you in his arms, refusing to give you to him. Your father sighs at the stubborn man. "Koyla, do you want her to be sleepy in class?", he asked, making him pondered. Eventually, he slowly shook his head no. Yes he was a deranged man but he still cared about your health! You were just a small dove, having lack of sleep could possibly hindered your performance of soaring through the sky, something he greatly feared. Finally acknowledging defeat, he gazed back at you, pulling your face off from his wrinkled buttoned up jacket.
"Ah I guess you're right, having a sleepy bird wouldn't be so good now will it? So it's time to return back to the nest for some proper rest!", he exclaimed with a smile returning back to his face. Nikolai carried you to your bed, ready to place you down and tuck you in, but your father interfered. "Koyla, you should go. I'll tuck her to bed", he asserted. Hearing his words, Nikolai felt shock that Fyodor suggested such thing; I mean, he should tuck you in, clearly he's the better parent when it came to "sleeping"....Or so he claims, in fact he isn't the ideal person of tucking a small child to bed without telling some stories that will leave them up at night.
"Eh, why not?! I'm perfectly capable of putting her to sleep!", he pulls you futher into his embrace, refusing to let you go. Of course he'll be on the offense side right now. "Remember the last time you tuck her into bed? You told her a story that made her have nightmares for a few days. She was forced to sleep in our room. I won't let that happen again", Fyodor's remark made Nikolai shot a glare at him.
"Hey it was funny!". "Not to her though".
You knew that your papa will go back and forth with your father over this small issue, so you tugged on his jacket, causing him to averted his attention to you. "Papa, I want отец to tuck me to bed", your comment made Nikolai sulk. You wanted your father more than him? Haha! What a funny joke...right? "Oh how cruel of you! You just broke my heart into millions of pieces! Such a ferocious mouth you have. So you would rather hang out with your father than me?", he begins his drama cries, hoping you'll fall for it. Unfortunately for him, you were so smart for your age that the guilt tripping didn't fazed you. "No, I didn't say that. I just want father to tucked me to bed", you clarified, earning you a huff. "Fine...But just know I'm getting you out of school early tomorrow!", he declared, staring directly at you which made you smiled a bit. "No Nik-". "Alright папа! Let's play tons of games tomorrow!", you beamed in excitement with the thought of getting picked up early.
Fyodor wanted to say no, but with the two of y'all already chatting about plans tomorrow, he decided to let this slide just this once. His eyes still remained on his husband, urging him to say his goodbyes just so they could talk alone. Seeing his husband's hidden message, Nikolai quickly tossed you up in the air one last time before pulling you into a bone crushing embrace which made it harder for you to breath. Sensing the sudden lack of air you had, he loosen his clutches around you. "Ah goodnight my little angel! Sleep tight and let song birds drifted you to sleep", with his final goodnight, he ruffles your hair a bit before giving you to your father. He gave one more look at his loving family before exiting out of the room leaving you two alone.
You were now in your father's arms, glancing up at him with a glimpse of wonder and nervousness shining in your eyes. Dark purple eyes stared back at you as his grip around him was gentle compare to your papa's. You wanted to say something but couldn't because of your thoughts blaring and tainting your mind with negativity about your father's disappointment of not following his words. As if he knew the internal conflict stirring within you, he spoke up. "It's alright, маленький ангел", he reassured you, slowly placing you down on the soft mattress. He pulled the blanket over you, letting the new found warmth consumed you. Still, you felt bad that you went against your father's words. Your eyes were glue on the dark red blanket, fingers firmly gripping the cozy material.
"...I know but still. I could've told papa I was heading to bed, instead I gotten distract", your mouse like voice made him hum. You didn't get an instant response from your father which made you more tense. Will he have an outburst just like others before when you didn't follow their orders?...No, you shouldn't think about them, they didn't matter now. You have father and papa now and that's all that matters, you're safe.
"Like I said, it's alright. There's no need to fret over something minor like that. You're just a child. I don't expect you to be sharp with your time", he raised his hand and carefully patted your head. The unexpected affection made you staggered, unable to process what just happen. You calmed your breaths, letting yourself relaxed at the sudden weight bestowed on your head. It felt nice to endured, experienced even especially since your father wasn't a man who displayed affection often. His reassureness and touch seemingly eased you down enough that your worries begin to leisurely slip away from your mind and heart.
"However, that doesn't mean I'll let this slide though", he reprimanded which you expected. Your father was the strictest out of your family, but he means well; he has his own way of showing that he cares and one of them was being strict. "You'll be accompanying me after school. There you will write and speak in Russian as well as Ukrainian and you must perform them in front of me. Do you understand?", his expression never faltered from his neutral look. He maintained his respectful composure and spoke in a professional, authoritative manner that accentuated his place as a parent.
You listened with keen ears, indulging his words carefully. "Mhm, I understand, father", you muttered with a small nod. Finally, you spared a glimpse at your father's dark purple eyes. It was refreshing seeing him again; the calm voids of his eyes made you feel better. His eyes told so much more than his words and body language. Concern clouded his eyes, yet his body posture was straight and firm as if nothing happened. The phrase, "Eyes don't lie", truly can described who your father was.
"Y/n, I'm not angry at you", he adds again, hoping those words go through that thick skull of yours. "You went along with Koyla's antics because you missed him. You missed us and I apologize for not spending much time with you lately", he brushed the strands away from your face so he could see your expression. Your eyes shot opened with your lips agape. At first, you couldn't speak due to this but alas, words finally spilled from your mouth. "It's okay, отец. Work has been keeping you and papa busy", you said.
You never knew what your dads did for work as it wasn't your business. Although, you visit their supposed based before and sat in your father's lap as he did some stuff on his computer. Sometimes, your grandpa will take you away and make the Hunting Dogs watched you while he and your family do some...work. "How about I'll take you to one of those new cafe that recently opened up? The one you keep pestering us about", he asked which made you immediately deepen your gaze on him. "REALLY!? You'll take me?", you tossed the blanket off of you, now sitting up on your knees. Eyes sparkled in anticipation, waiting for his answer.
Chuckles erupted from him due to your outburst. "Of course. It'll be you and I. I'll sent Koyla to do something with Sigma", he said, making you more excited. It looked like you were about to burst any minute with enthusiasm fueling your body. "But you need to go to sleep. You have school tomorrow", being reminded of school, you sulked. You didn't want to go to that dreadful place with a bunch of average kids; you were much better than them evident to your straight A's on your report cards and test. You wanted to hang out with your family, but it looks like that was only possible after school and on weekends. Oh well, at least you were gonna be having much fun with your parents this week!
Fyodor begins to tuck you in again much to your disappointment. The clock on your wall read 9:42, about a good 12 minutes has passed since your small scolding happened. When your Russian father pulled the blacket over your small body, he was about to leave when your fingers gripped his white shirt. "Hm? What is it?", he looked back at you with a confused look. "Can you read me a bed time story...?", you gave him your best puppy dog eyes. "But it's passed your bed time-". "Pleassssseeee", you pleaded, still tugging on his shirt relentlessly. With a sigh, he turned around, sauntering back towards you.
This action made your lips curled upwards. You let go of his shirt, pulling the blanket further on you. Fyodor headed towards your book shelf, scanning at each book before landing on one of them that caught his eye. He pulled it out, staring at the cover as he walked back towards you. Pulling out a chair, he sat down in a close yet far away distance. "Is this good?", he showed you the book. You observed the book with wonder and interest and with a smile, you nod.
Getting a confirmation, he read off the title and author, crediting them before opening the book. Soon, the once quiet air was filled with a thick Russian accent. The way he pronounced each words gave a calming effect as if soothing you to sleep. Flipping through page after page, he read each line with clarity and sharpness. His quiet yet soothing voice was making you droopy. You felt yourself gradually shifting back and forth to the dream world and the real world. Alas, your eyelids touched each other, making your eyelashes act like closed gates. Small snores escaped your mouth and you finally succumb to a deep slumber.
And as soon as your father said those fairytale words, you were completely knock out. You nuzzled against your blanket, seeking its warmth with great possessiveness. Fyodor's lips twitched into a small smile; he closed the book, standing up before returning the book back onto its original position on the shelf. He slide the chair back to its place by your table, and he loomed over you. Seeing how peaceful and innocent you look, a soft, tender glint glimmered in his eyes. You were just a child after all of this, a child in this God forsaken world. After everything that happened to you, you still acted like a child regardless of your past.
He swore he'll changed this world by completing his goal: a world without ability users. He will carried out God's will and fulfilled his dream to ensure his daughter's innocence and prevent losing his husband. Bending down, he kissed your forehead before reciting a little prayer to you. He stood up, fixing up your blanket to make sure you were warm enough. He strolled towards the door, hands already on the doorknob. He took one last glimpse at your sleeping figure. "Goodnight, маленький ангел", he muttered, turning the lights off before exiting out of your room and closing the door behind him.
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Merry Christmas y'all! Hope you all are having an amazing Christmas! And if yall don't celebrate it, then Happy Holidays! ^ ^
I just wanted to write something Bungo Stray Dogs related as I'm getting back into this silly show/manga. (Please I just wanted to do something platonic and fluff bc of the latest chapters occurring in the bsd manga 🥲)
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All rights reserved!! | Please do not steal, claim, or plagiarized this as I put a lot of effort into this | Dec. 25, 2024 | ©Sparda-Soully
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serpentface · 4 months ago
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Question for Faiza: what does the average day for an Odonii priestess entail?
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We wake before dawn, and most of us spend the morning working around the temple. We maintain the shrines and grounds so- tending the hearths and burning the offerings, collecting water from the spring, feeding the lions. And there's always lay visitors milling around the temple while we're doing all this, but our attendants take care of the general public interfacing so. We can mostly focus on our duties.
There's always going to be some pregnant women or the odd soldier stopping in, so you might give out blessings once? Twice? On any given day. Rarely any more than that. But sometimes, you'll be right in the middle of something important- it's always when you're in the middle of something - and then, suddenly, in wanders an entire troupe. And you hear them before you see them. They'll have brought every single weapon and piece of armor they own, so they're clanging loud enough to wake the dead. And you'll just be standing there thinking, well, this is going to be my entire morning now.
...But it's very important work of course, attending our soldiers. Give a man Odomache's blessing, and he fights more bravely alone than twenty without.
Once the temple closes, we usually spend most of the afternoon just preparing the amenchalme. So- grinding the maize, then blessing the maize, then grinding the salt, then blessing the salt, then mixing the wine, then blessing the wine, then mixing the oil, then blessing the oil... It's a little tedious, I won't lie. But I think this is our most important duty, in a way. Out of every rite we perform, day in and day out, this is the one that serves all our people. The amenchalme that blesses a whore's nameless bastard daughter at birth and the amenchalme that blesses a great lord at his wedding is the very same, made by the very same hands. So when I see priestesses shunting the task off to initiates so they can go nap on the grounds or play with their muskets...
I digress.
So, when the rest of our duties are complete, we end the day with training. This is mostly practicing the six dances. Ideally, every Odonii in the temple should be assembled and practicing in unison. But in practice, there's usually some stragglers. So you'll be out in the yard and everyone is following the same drumbeat, but you'll see one group dancing the spear, another dancing the musket, and then another who's already finished and running laps around the grounds just to kill time.
Our core duties are over at sundown, and we're free to do as we please. Dinner is served at the temple, so most of us will spend an hour or two in the hall, you know, socializing, having a little wine, unwinding. I like to go down to the ocean after dinner, when I can. I prefer the quiet.
Uh, so that's an average day for the vast majority of us. It varies throughout the year, of course. Things get busy when we're approaching festivals. Or during wartime. And I'm a senior Odonii and liaison to the Usoma, so-. My duties tend to be considerably more complex, year-round. Sometimes I miss those long afternoons just mindlessly pounding maize, haha.
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Notes:
-Temples to Odomache are open to the public from dawn until noon, and closed throughout the rest of the day. The temple consists of a great shrine that is publicly accessible by all, inner walled grounds that are prohibited to the public outside of certain festivals (tame lions are kept here), private spaces only Odonii and temple staff can enter (the Odonii's quarters and bathrooms, a dining hall, library), and ritually private spaces that only Odonii can enter (an inner shrine reserved for internal cult practice that is forbidden knowledge for non-Odonii)
-Odonii-attendants are high ranking servants to the priesthood. They start out as child servants given to the order by their fathers who perform most of the basic labor (this is a very attractive position to poor families in particular, as the family is paid until the child comes of age, and the child themself can acquire a degree of security and potential for class mobility that is otherwise difficult to attain). Those who choose to remain with the order upon adulthood (they have no choice in the matter beforehand due to children being under full legal jurisdiction of their fathers) may eventually graduate into attendant positions. This is a well paid and esteemed job, with attendants managing most of the practical logistics of maintaining a temple and interfacing with the public.
Servants to Odonii are only women and eunuchs. Those considered male are forbidden from this role (which entails entering some ritually private spaces, and sometimes seeing them naked in the course of bathing/being armored, etc) - the Odonii's body is sacrosanct and an analogue to the power and the security of the Wardi nation and God Itself, and the male gaze is considered uniquely dangerous to a metaphysically vulnerable female body and thus to be fundamentally violating of this sacred state.
-Outside of certain festivals and rituals, Odonii only perform blessings for royalty, soldiers, and pregnant women. Odonii also bless soldiers' weapons and armor.
-Amenchalme is the basic material used in public rites for blessing and purification. The finished product is a paste that is daubed on the body to give blessings, and consecrates animals/humans for sacrifice. It is exclusively produced by Odonii, but used in a broad variety of contexts.
-'Nameless' in the context of 'nameless bastard daughter' means not having a family name - ie an orphan of unknown parentage, or not being claimed by one's father, and therefore not having access to and the protection of the family as the foundational social unit in Wardi society. Namelessness itself is stigmatized, and its implications invariably entail ostracization and lowered status. Faiza saying 'whore's nameless bastard daughter' is her conjuring up like, the lowest possible status Wardi citizen she can imagine.
-The six dances are the core weapons-dances used in rites and for combat training, centered around the key weapons techniques- spear, sword, handgun, musket, spear and shield, sword and shield. Bow dances are still practiced by most soldiers (given that firearms are limited enough in access to have not fully replaced them) but are no longer part of the Odonii's core retinue.
-Faiza privately ascribes to a niche quasi-atheist strain of Wardi philosophy that posits that God fully died during creation and can no longer directly affect the world, and thus does not believe that the majority of rites her Entire Life is built on performing have any intrinsic divinely sourced effects. She is very good at not letting any of this slip, but tends to frame the benefits of rites around their practical effects (ie- soldiers who believe they are protected by God fight more bravely).
Her emphasis on the importance of amenchalme as is partly rooted in sincere conviction that all* (*Imperial Wardi citizen) people should receive the practical benefits of the state's religion regardless of class and she finds the ubiquity of the substance to be an equalizer, and partly because she absolutely believes in bad luck, ghosts, and evil spirits, and amenchalme protects people from those.
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endereies · 3 months ago
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PRODUCER!CHRIS X DANCER!READER FIRST MEETING
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Pairing: Producer!Chris x Dancer!Reader
Contains: How Chris and Reader interacted through their first meeting with eachother
Requested?: no
Author's notes: I've been wanting this au out for a while so I'm so glad to get this going. The rest of my posts probably won't be designed like this and more like small answers to blurbs and interactions. A lot of oneshots or longer blurbs may be more laid out but no guarantees! If anyone has any requests just send em my way.
Word Count: 1560
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Ever since the news was revealed to the troupe that your academy piqued the interest of Chris Sturniolo, dancers immediately forgot about any routines they were working on and practiced their best moves for him. He would be visiting throughout the first week of October, which was only a month away.
Thankfully, you had gained knowledge of the type of music he created and wanted to capture it through dance. Thoughts spurred in your head of what moves would best appeal to him, but they were cut short but the sound of your coach.
“Now. Before we all get too eccentric, these will not be individual auditions.” The team members immediately groaned at the thought of not so easily being able to show off. “You will be in trios. There are twelve of you, therefore it only seems fair. However, I will allow you to choose your partners.”
While you weren’t one who opted to become friends with your team, you were a team member. A few others were like that too and so you all paired together as a strong trio. Almost immediately you three were picking out which songs best flexed your styles. You had studied hip hop most of your life, yet your partners differed in skill. Once the three of you had found a song that could highlight all features, it was time for a routine.
Being a mix of both dancers, you paired with meant that you could pick up and memorise a lot of the structure quite quickly. Different segments of the song had various tempos which you manipulated your body to. Eventually the weeks rolled around, each dancer perfecting their routines, ready for Chris to see.
When he walked in, all eyes were on him, studying his every movement. He had a security guard who followed behind him but didn’t seem as intimidating as one might suspect. Your coach sauntered over to the two and started what seemed to be a civil conversation. You hadn’t broken your gaze off Chris ever since he walked in. He seemed cocky and wasn’t bothered with many manners. His posture was slightly bent which ticked your dancer mindset. His frame was wrapped in multiple designer brands, one of which you noted as his own. In every aspect of him he emitted confidence, in himself and the troupe he often glanced at. The strands of hair gracefully framed his face, pointing down to his sharp jawline. It was like he didn’t have to try.
“Okay then, who is first?” He departed from the teacher and waltz towards the group of students, barely younger than him.
No one wanted to every go first, not even you. Everyone liked to see what they were up against, so they knew just how hard they needed to try. A few students refracted away from his gaze, looking anywhere but him. You weren’t looking at him, merely his actions, the way he carried himself. After all, you were in the same room as a famous musician, as if you weren’t going to take this in.
“You. I want your group first.” He stood, facing you directly from a few feet away. You looked up to meet his smug expression, slight shock crossing your own. Both your teammates glanced up towards Chris before tracing back to you, nodding slowly. The routine was precise, clean, perfect. You knew you three had the capability, Chris just had to acknowledge that.
The rest of the troupe ushered back towards the walls, giving you three space to perform. The music queued up and begun to play, echoing around you. The beat was harsh with loud snare drums creating a sharp tone through the song. It blared through the surround-sound speakers, letting you quickly find a tempo.
Chris studied each dancer as you moved, his eyes scanning your every movement with a look of interest in his eyes. His gaze, however, began to focus more intently as your trio began to perform. His brows slightly furrowed as your team brought out talent. He found himself intrigued by the combination of skills that each dancer possessed.
Your synchronization was almost too perfect. Smooth transitions between different tempos were executed seamlessly, displaying a mastery of technique. As the music continued, a growing sense of confidence was evident in your body. The tempo dictated the choreography, and you were proud of each move you provided.
Each moves the three of you performed exuded control, every pop and lock, every shuffle, every dip and footwork pattern. You were agile across the floor, even during transitions. Sweat started to glisten and dampen the bandana that tied back your hair. None of your clothing was too tight and limiting, the camo-green shirt fitting loose on your arms yet stopping just short of your stomach. Your jeans were nothing less, worn out black jeans gathered over your trainers, tied with a loose belt at your hips. The materials hugged your skin against your frame while providing ideal mobility.
As the music dimmed, your moves slowed with the tempo. Your bodies dipped low to a crouch. Both your legs spread slowly, maintaining eye contact with Chris. As his head tilted, your body snapped upwards, rolling your hips.
The last few beats of the song played out and you were left holding your last moves for a few seconds before your bodies relaxed to their neutral states.
Alongside you, the rest of the troupe applauded the performance but that was cut as Chris spoke.
“Y’all don’ disappoint, huh? Definitely stand out more than t’others.” He pauses and looks at you, his eyes narrowing “ ‘Nd I liked your b-twist, kid.”
He clicks his tongue against his cheek. Chris took a step closer to you, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked you up and down, his eyes studying every detail of your appearance. He smirked as he saw the sweat dripping down the side of your face. His cocky demeanor was evident as he spoke to you, his voice low and teasing.
"You’ve got moves, I’ll give you that. Not seen many groups that can move the way y’all do. It’s sick" he said, his eyes flickering with a mix of admiration and arrogance.
Your body instantly filled with pride as he spoke, and a smirk played on your lips. Both your team mates returned to your side with the same expression. “Thank you.”
-
The auditions continued for the rest of the day and there was no denying the pure technique and control each group had. It seemed like Chris was in a constant state of amazement and it was easily caught in the glimmer of his eyes. He sauntered around each group as they dance, admiring anything he could. Chris was more than impressed with the troupe. Each trio left more than an impression on him some skills making your own jaw drop.
Chris found himself drawn to each trio and noticed every little detail. The passion people had for dance, the confidence you all exuded even under these pressures and the control everyone held in themselves.
By the end of the day, the final performance of the last group had ended, each member making their way off the floor to sit back against the walls as they took a well-deserved break. Chris was stood in the same position as he had been the entire time, his arms crossed, and his gaze focused. Your gaze was held on Chris and your coach who both stood at the front of the studio. Your coach was always professional, and she was hard to read. It bugged you how you never got a grasp on how she felt unless it was strictly said to you. Chris, however, was easier. He showed off his teeth any time he faced the dancers, smiling as he talked. He wasn’t reprimanding and hadn’t shown signs of it all day. You knew that they noticed you looking, your coach especially. You were a curious and stubborn person who wanted to know anything you could. That’s why your coach became harder to read. She knew you. Eventually, Chris’ gaze met yours, his smirk returning to his lips as he raised his eyebrows at you knowingly, letting you know that he was well aware of your line of sight.
“Can everyone gather around the centre please” Her voice easily echoed on the walls, catching your attention. She glanced around the room getting everyone’s focus before she spoke up once again.
“I must admit that I am impressed with everyone and the performances you showcased for Mr. Sturniolo today.” Your coach let her gaze fall on the group of students in front of her, a meek smile crossing her face.
“I’m gon’ assume everyone here knows the results gon’ be out in a month’s time. 1st November, aight?” The students nodded in agreement, all well aware of the dates. However, you especially, knew exactly how important that date was going to be for you.
Your coach finally spoke up again "You are all dismissed. I will let you know the results as soon as I am aware." She looked towards Chris and smiled warmly. "It was a pleasure having you here today."
Chris gave a slight nod of acknowledgment and a smile at your coach's words, his eyes shifting back in your direction momentarily.
"Likewise, ma'am"
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© ENDEREIES 2024
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@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerrss @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @zariyam @thecynthh @missmimii
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purpldawne · 8 months ago
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thought of a GENIUS way around this so the play is back on
so i might try writing that play event i mentioned a few weeks ago. . .
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littleakito · 1 month ago
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hi ^^ cgs wxs and regressor Rui headcanons? Specifically when he slips in the middle of practice for a new show.. bc he’s been rlly stressed lately
🤖﹐LiTTLE! RUi﹕✦ CG! WxS
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thank you so much for your request! I hope I did the little man justice✦!
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1  ﹒ Stress is a common fatigue for Rui, this can be said for anyone. Yet, there will always be moments where you just need an escape from it all. Will Rui ever willingly soothe himself and let himself escape from the pouring rain of stress? Haha..
2  ﹒ Performing was always challenging for Rui, whether he was in a more adult-like mindset or not. It was meant to be, after-all, that’s the talent behind such a thing! Giving himself and the others challenging and extraordinary roles was just another part of being a director, you must push actors comfort zone for them to grow more familiar with much more distinct characters unlike them.
3  ﹒ Greeting the others at evening practice was a little more difficult than Rui hoped for. Just this once, he stumbled over a few simple words, ones he had usually purred flawlessly. And, maybe he felt his heart drop in the slightest at the scrutinizing looks he received from Nene and Tsukasa in that moment, but so what?
4  ﹒ Practice had started a little quicker than he had hoped, he had wanted to talk to the others a bit more without having to play pretend. He wanted to see Tsu’s big flashy smile and scrunched nose, Nene’s light sigh’s and small, encouraging looks; and Emu’s shaking hands from pure excitement, mixed with her tight hug that could knock a fully grown man over.
5  ﹒ Beginning the scenes, Tsukasa had immediately jumped to light, followed by Nene, then… oh, it was his turn. He had missed it. Those looks were back, stronger than ever, might he add. Truly puzzling… it was as if they were suspecting him of something.
6  ﹒ However, after a few mistakes, minor and major, Rui bit at his lip, and the others only grew more and more suspicious of him and his mannerisms. It certainly didn’t take long for one of them to ask, either.
7  ﹒ Simple questions, filled with sweet words and a gentler tone than normal, ones asking about his messy, chopped hair. Others asking about his fidgety hands and lack of laughter and tease. One, having asked about his finger finding its way to his mouth, being bitten and sucked on.
8  ﹒ A coo, and then a whisper, tugging away his hand, Tsukasa held it within his own, and Emu immediately jumped up, sparkles basically shimmering in her eyes as she suggested the SEKAI as a sweet retreat. Oh oh! And, we can’t forget an ACTUAL sweet TREAT, can we?!
9  ﹒ Cuddled within the SEKAI, stuffed animals purring at his feet and giggling as he picked them up and held them close, the troupe members sat within each others arms, holding their little one the closest of them all.
It most certainly didn’t take long for practice to be called off.
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For a few generic headcannons not quite following a story line…
1  ﹒ Rui regresses from 2-5, more commonly leaning towards the younger ages. He can be rambunctious when he wants to be, but he prefers messing around with trinkets and cuddling his caregivers. Listening to stories are the best, especially when his caregivers act out the scenes with him, hehe.
2  ﹒ He definitely hates being in public when little, no matter what. Even being slightly fuzzy can cause a panic attack from him.
3  ﹒ It doesn’t take long before Rui’ll convince you to let him take apart the TV remote when little, he’s the best at puppy eyes, believe me!
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thanks for your patience anon, I hope I meet your standards! I know very little about Rui besides his backstory being depressing and him being a silly little goober we all love<3 (this is a joke I know a fair amount about him haha.. silly guy!)
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xewanu · 1 year ago
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HELLO FELLOW SPLATLANDIAN, LITTLE "COLOR THEORY" LESSON HERE
In today's episode ? The symbolism of the green//pink theme in Splatoon
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Okay so it all goes back to the great turf war. It seems to have been the first ever color picked, representing octolings vs inklings. We all obviously know that inklings won, pretty unfairly, and octos were pretty much forced to step back. Ever since, the green//pink and inkling//octo themes have been omnipresent in the Splatoon universe.
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In Splat 1 comes Callie and Marie. They are not opposed as octo vs inkling, yet pick a side in a Splatfest (Octopus vs Squid, won by Callie, on the 10th of October 2015, Squid side), and end up opposing to each other, as Callie vs Marie. The outcome is clear, Marie wins, Callie is sad about it, and joins her pink theme by joining the octo troups (I'd REALLY like to know how the pink//green theme would've been handled if she won). So yeah, the Squid Sisters give us a continuity that Splatoon 2 MASSIVELY used LOL.
So let's continue with Off The Hook, shall we ?
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First of all, can I point out the fact the colors are not the exact same bright pink and green we knew this far ? Yes ? Alright thanks. MARINA RAN AWAY !!! SO SHE'S GREEN !!! You have no idea how I love the entirety of these colors symbolism, reader. But yep, Marina is obviously green because she rejects her past, as seen in the Octo Expansion logs. Also, her color ressembles very slightly sanitization. A mutation. You following me this far ? I find Pearl being pink actually adorable, her color isn't THIS muted. It fits Marina, and also implies hey, no octoling racism here. Zamn this making me tearful.
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Continuation to the green//pink linked to squid//octopus is this. I REALLY love the possible yin yang reference with the shirts btw. We think inklings are so good and perfect, but maybe there's evil within them, to the opposite of octolings, who are actually not as mean as depicted by Craig. I'll also point out the inkling in the poster is smiling, fist clenched, confidently, as the octoling is a bit less self assured, looking concentrated. The need to win for their nation, teehee okay sorry I'm reaching :3
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Oh you knew it was coming you DEFINITELY knew. Yup. Agent 24. To me they sign the end of this stupid "inkling vs octoling" war. 3 first saves 8, 8 then saves 3 and Craig (And Inkopolis but yeah LMAO.) To me it really means "This is where we end the fight", 3 sees the potential in 8, and doesn't see them as an enemy nor a threat, but a partner (NOT ROMANTICALLY SPECIFICALLY, you ship who you want, but they do seem like they respect each other). Splatoon 3 doesn't return with pink//green, or inkling//octoling. We can play an octoling, who fights octolings, to protect octolings. Our ink is just yellow, we fight non octo bosses. We fight along Octavio. The band is red, yellow and blue, the primary colors. Harmony, although their principal song's called Anarchy Rainbow. All colors mixed together :'0
Okay, thanks for coming to my ted talk BYYYE.
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