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shadowkoo · 20 days

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Just Dance It Off

→ Summary: You're over the moon when you land the female lead in the end-of-semester show. It feels like your hard work has finally paid off, everything is going great. Well, until you learn who your partner is…

↠ jimin x f.reader | 9.5k words | 18+ ↠ genre: smut, angst, fluff, ballet dancers au, enemies to lovers, performing arts college au

→ Warnings: explicit and unprotected sex, jealousy, masturbation, alcohol consumption, underage drinking, use of fake ID, mild exhibitionism, creampie, hair pulling, angry sex, nipple play, degradation, dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, multiple smut scenes, heavy teasing & banter, edging, orgasm denial, light choking

→ Author Note: This is a rewrite of an old 2019 fic of mine, so I hope you enjoy the newest version! If you’d like to read this on ao3 instead it’s been crossposted here! Also a biiiiiiig thank you so Sarah @caelesjjk for beta editing this for me. Go show her some love if you aren't already following her! As always, all likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated <3

“Oh, no,” you hear one of the dancers behind you whisper to another, “Look who’s walking in.”

Your curiosity gets the best of you as you casually stretch, your eyes betraying you by glancing over your shoulder toward the door, dying to see who they’re talking about. You recognize him almost immediately and the whispers continue to grow about the slender male who is walking across the room to set his stuff down.

Park Jimin.

Of course, he would be auditioning for this show. It’s his final semester, and you really should have seen this coming. Especially since you knew he was bound to get whatever position he was auditioning for. That’s a given.

Park Jimin always gets whatever he wants in life; whether that be a specific role in a performance, who his performance partners are both on the stage…and in the bedroom, that sort of thing. He’s the most pretentious person you’ve ever met, seeing as he acts like he is God’s gift to the dance world, and you’re already dreading any interaction you’ll have with him.

Rumor has it that his daddy, former dancer and sponsor, paid his way into Juilliard, but as much as you hate to admit it, he (unfortunately) happens to be very talented and you doubt the school didn’t already have something lined up for him, regardless of who his family is. Unlike you, who was on the waitlist for two months and had to take out a loan worth more than your life to attend this school.

Your eyes meet his and Jimin does a once-over before moving onto the people to your left. What a prick.

“Y/N!” a voice yells from the entryway. Your familiar, freckled, redheaded best friend is quickly prancing towards you.

“I’m so happy to see you here,” Catalina squeals before hugging you tightly. “What part are you auditioning for? Please tell me it’s lead. God, I miss you. It sucks that we don’t have any classes together this semester. How are you?”

You hug your petite friend back, “I miss you too! Please tell me that you’re not also auditioning for lead, I don’t want to be judged against you. Your pirouettes are perfect compared to my lousy ones.”

Her laugh echoes through the room. “Apparently you didn’t hear about my recent tumble,” she jokes, bumping her shoulder into yours. “I’ll gladly be in the background after my solo-gone-wrong.”

“Alright, everyone!” One of the male judges calls out, walking past the lineup of dancers to collect everyone’s entry form. “We’ll start with the routine you were required to memorize as a group, and then it will be individual evaluations after. Make sure your numbers are secured and let’s line up outside the door.”

After taking your place and getting into position with the rest of the packed room, you wait for the cue to begin. The routine is short and simple, and years of practice have made some of the required moves second nature.

Before you know it, the judges are escorting people out the door for the individual sessions.

You're about twentieth in line, right behind Cat. That makes you a bit nervous because, even though she’s not auditioning for the lead role, her impressive skills might land her a more prominent part than the one she’s aiming for.

Everyone else is quietly chatting in line while you do your best to relax, working through your routine in your mind. This is one of your pre-audition rituals. It always helps with easing your nerves.

By the time you finish running through a couple of full-outs in your head, you’re second in line. You wish Cat good luck as she’s ushered into the dance studio. Her five minutes go by almost too quickly, but she exits with a happy smile.

“Hey, good luck! Kill it, okay?”

You nod, quickly following after the woman who calls your name next.

“Miss Y/N, it says here that you’re auditioning for the female lead. As a sophomore?” Mr. Jenson, one of your dance professors and judge, questions. You prepared for this. It’s very uncommon for an underclassman to try out for such a prestigious role.

“Yes, sir. That’s correct.” You hold your head high.

“Well, I have to say I’m quite impressed with your confidence. Whenever you’re ready.”

You wait for the familiar beginning notes of Tchaikovsky’s Waltz Of The Flowers to play before flying effortlessly through your well-practiced routine. You’re banking on the emotional state of your dancing along with the technical moves you’ve included to impress the judges, and based on their faces when you finish, you figure you did just that. You can’t help but grin widely as you watch the four of them scribble furiously onto the sheets of paper. That’s a really good sign.

“I have to say, I was a little thrown off in the beginning by your song choice since it’s so, hmm, how do I say this, so amateur. But I was very surprised by what you chose to express and the level at which you dance,” the first judge says.

“Yes, the lines you created with your body were very exquisite,” another praises.

You nodded, taking in their advice and criticism.

“Thank you, Miss Y/N, you may exit.” Mr. Jenson says with a smile.

As soon as you step out the door and exhale, you feel a sense of relief. The excitement of your successful audition courses through you, filling you with good energy.

You find Cat stretching in the warm-up room next door.

“Oh my god, you got it. Didn’t you?” She squeals the second she sees your face.

“I don’t know…” You have a pretty good idea based on their responses and comments but aren’t positive.

“Oh, please,” she rolls her eyes, “That’s your ’I just nailed my audition’ face. You totally got it.”

“I hope so. God, wouldn’t that be so insane? When was the last time an underclassman got the lead?”

Someone behind you scoffs; you look over your shoulder and see that it’s Jimin. Your eyes narrow at him, but Cat turns you back before you go off on him. “Not worth it, the rest of us seniors think it’s great that you’re trying for a top spot. How about we go get a drink from the vending machine while we wait?”

You nod before grabbing your warm-up bag and follow her out. “I can’t believe him. He’s so stuck up,” You grumble once you’re far enough away that no one but Cat can hear you.

“He’s always like that, just be thankful that you don’t share any classes with him.”

You’ve heard that Jimin is usually the center of attention in class, whether it’s his choice or not, so you can’t imagine being stuck in one with him. It sounds like it would be impossible to get good feedback if the teachers only care about him.

After you both buy the drinks that you want, you head back. The line is smaller but it will still be at least a half-hour until everyone has had their turn. You sigh impatiently and head back into the warm-up room.

Deciding to sit along the mirrored wall, you rummage through your bag to find a pair of headphones and put your favorite playlist on shuffle while you wait. Even though it feels like half the day goes by while you’re sitting there waiting, it’s really only been about an hour.

Everyone’s attention lands on Madam Jamie, one of the contemporary dance professors, when she asks everyone to re-enter the audition room.

“Okay,” she starts once everyone gets in line, “Those whose numbers I am about to call, please step forward. Dancers eleven, one fifty-three, one forty-seven, seventeen, thirty-eight, twenty-two, and one ten.”

Cat gives you a concerned look as she steps forward without you.

“Seventy-two, fifteen, sixty-eight, thirty, thirty-four, eighty-two, one twenty-one–” you step forward and sigh in relief once she spoke your number. Tuning out the rest of the numbers called, you smile at Cat as she reaches for your hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

“Everyone else, I’m sorry to inform you that you have not been selected. Thank you for your time,” She finishes, resting her clipboard against her chest.

Those who didn’t make the cut are escorted out as Mr. Jenson stands up to make an announcement.

“I have everyone’s part listed here,” He shakes the paper in his hand. “It’ll be left on this table for you all to look over. However, I want to first congratulate you all. We are excited to have this much talent for the semester’s exhibition show. We have some great things planned and cannot wait to get started with you all. Please take note of our rehearsal schedule. Monday, Wednesday, Friday. Eight to noon. Most of you should not have conflicting schedules as all dance classes are held in the afternoon anyway, although if you do have a problem just stay after and we can work it out. Madam Jamie and I will see you back here Monday morning. Dismissed.”

You and Cat both wait until more people clear out of the room before you have the guts to read the paper.

Catalina Wilde - Corps de ballet

Your eyes wander across the page as you search for your name.

Y/N - Lead Female Soloist

Turning towards each other, you squeal “Oh my god,” at the same time.

“I can’t believe it. We both got what we wanted,” you excitedly rush out.

“I know, this never happens. Oh, I’m so excited!” She reaches for your hand and squeezes it again, picking up the paper with her other hand.

“Oh, no.” She turns the paper towards you, “Look who your partner is.”

Park Jimin - Lead Male Soloist

You huff, “Of course, I’m not surprised.” You turn your head and search the mostly-empty room for him. You have a feeling he’s still here, it’s like you can sense his presence.

“Cat! You coming?” the group of dancers near the door asks.

“Shoot, I’ve got to head to my next session. I’ll see you later, okay?” Cat says, giving you a quick hug as she runs out the door.

Leaving just you and Jimin.

Deciding to let go of your prejudice against Jimin, you figure the best move would be to congratulate him on getting the part he auditioned for.

He watches blankly from the mirrored wall as you walk towards him.

Once in front of him, you stick your hand out. “Hey congrats, I’m looking forward to–” you begin before he rudely cuts you off by holding up his hand.

“Yeah, whatever,” he sneers, “We need to take this extremely seriously so I expect you to be at our rehearsals an hour early so we can get in extra time,” he looks you over again, “From what I can tell you’re gonna need it.”

“Also,” apparently he isn’t finished, “I expect that you’ll be taking care of your diet from here on out since I’m going to be lifting you and I don’t want my arms to give out, or worse, snap.”

“Well, you can always go to the gym and work on that yourself,” you say defensively. What a jerk.

“So can you, sweetheart.”

“Uh, wow. Okay…” Here you are trying to congratulate him and here he is treating you like dirt. “Guess the rumors are true,” you mutter as you shift your duffel strap further up your shoulder, turning to leave.

“Excuse me?” Well, shit. He wasn’t supposed to hear that part. You look him in the eyes without showing any regret for your previous statement.

His eyes narrow at you, clearly not liking your RBF, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Sorry.” However, you aren’t.

“You know,” he remarks, “I don’t care about what you’ve heard about me or what you think about me. I care if you’re going to be too immature for this role and if that’s the case I’ll have no trouble replacing you.” He follows you out the audition room.

Oh boy, you’re pissed now. You turn around and get right in his face.

“What the fuck? In case you haven’t noticed, you aren’t in charge here. Just because you’re a senior and I’m a sophomore doesn’t make you any better than me,” you bark while shoving a finger in his chest.

“Secondly, I don’t need to believe the rumors because you’ve just proven them to be true. You’re an ass to all of your partners to the point that they don’t want to dance with you so you can,” you lift up your hands to finger quote this next part, “Pick who you think is good enough.”

You scoff, “Well, here’s a fun fact dickwad. I’m not going anywhere. The judges chose me and I fully intend on dancing as the female lead in the show. So get the fuck over yourself ‘cause you’re about to be seeing a lot of me in these next few months. Got it?“

"Fine,” he huffs, pushing past you.

“Fine!” you snap, turning away from him and heading towards your next class. Now that you're thoroughly annoyed and not in the mood for your next class, which happens to be a two-hour lecture on the history of interpretive dance, you sigh and get moving before you’re late.

The first two weeks of ‘rehearsals’ are spent training, just at a higher level than you’re used to. However, you hide it well. You’ve been making sure to keep up with the upperclassmen because you know that you are, unfortunately, replaceable if Madam Jamie or Mr. Jenson deems it necessary.

It doesn’t matter that your thighs feel like they are on fire, or that your calves might be ripping at every bend and arch you make. You’re going to complete the one hundred pliés just like everyone else without a single complaint.

Jimin must have taken your last conversation to heart, or he’s exceptionally good at masking his feelings if your words bothered him, because he’s been an excellent partner all week. Although, you know you aren’t going to grow a typical relationship with him as you did with all of the other partners you have had over the years. You’ve been friends, good friends, even, with your previous partners, something you know is never going to happen with Jimin.

He doesn’t do small talk. He really doesn’t have much to say at all other than pointing out when you are making a mistake. No good comments, nor praise–not that you’re expecting any–but it would have been nice to hear him say that he is impressed with how well you’re keeping up with him.

It’s Friday of the second week, which means that it’s the last day of the training period aka hell week, thankfully. You’re dying to get started on learning the actual program. You aren’t looking forward to Jimin’s request of showing up an hour earlier than everyone else this next week, but even though you hate to admit it, the extra time will end up benefiting you.

Today also happens to be the day the choreographer is coming in. You’ve heard the whispers throughout the school this week, everyone trying to guess who it’s going to be.

And after seeing who Madam Jamie walks into the studio with, you’re so happy to see that they were all wrong.

“O-oh my–ohmygod,” you bumble and did a double-take. It couldn’t be, could it?

The brown curls hung gorgeously on the tall man’s head and you internally drool at how much better looking he is in person. He’s so tan, so fit, so delicious–

“Can you concentrate?” Jimin grumbles in annoyance, pulling you out of your slightly inappropriate thoughts. You’re doing partner stretches, which does require some level of focus, but not enough that you have to look away from the literal Italian God who stood a mere six feet away. “What’s your deal anyway? We’re supposed to be preparing our muscles for the toughest training session yet and you’re over there stuttering like a fool.”

You scoff at him and lower your voice, “Don’t you know who that is?”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Does it look like I care?” He mutters, pushing the backside of your thigh towards your torso.

“You can’t be serious,” you exasperate. “That’s Luca Black! You know, one of the most famous choreographers in the dance world right now. I can’t believe you don’t see how big of a deal this is.”

“The only thing I care about right now is making sure your hamstrings are loose so you don’t kick me in the face when we’re dancing.”

Now there’s an idea…

“Alright, everyone! Front and center please,” Mr. Jenson announces as he walks in the door, right on time as usual.

“Dancers, I would like you to meet Mr. Black, your choreographer. I expect you all to treat him with the same level of respect that you give me and Madam Jamie.”

“Oh please,” Mr. Black says, stepping forward, “You can all call me Luca.” His smile hits the heart of every girl in the class, and even a few of the guys. “I am looking forward to working with you all to make this performance one to remember. Can we get into a lineup to start?”

Everyone moves into the typical sequence based on each person’s position of where they belong. Which meant that you and Jimin were dead center with Luca’s eyes right on you.

You swallow slowly when he walks towards the two of you. “You must be Y/N. Mr. Jenson has told me quite a lot about you. I have to say, I am most excited to work with a dancer like you.”

Jimin is perplexed that Luca went straight to you. If anything, he’s the better dancer here and he doesn’t quite understand why a sophomore is getting so much attention. He’s nearly sick to his stomach listening to the nauseating conversation that you two are having.

“It’s an honor to have you working with us Mr. Black,” you say in awe as you shake his hand.

“Luca,” he corrects before lifting your hand to kiss it, “And the pleasure is most definitely all mine.”

“Sorry,” you pant, rushing through the door. “I know I’m a couple of minutes late. I couldn’t find parking. Why is it so freaking busy? It’s barely seven.”

“Don’t let it happen again,” Jimin says ignoring your question. You bite your tongue and get straight into your morning stretches.

“What do you want to work on today?” you ask, knowing what he is going to say after you’re warmed up. For the past three weeks, you and Jimin have been dedicating extra time to perfecting scene two's Pas De Deux.

It’s the only section of this scene where you’re both completely alone on stage and Jimin is dead-set on making it nothing less than perfect. He reasons that just because you are the only two people on stage doesn’t mean that the audience’s attention is a given, you need to earn it.

Which is a very on-brand thing for Jimin to say.

“Do you really need to ask?” He snickers with a playful smile plastered to his face.

“Nevermind then,” you banter back, joining him as he finishes stretching.

You’ve surprisingly gotten pretty comfortable with Jimin after spending more time with him. Dancing with him is mostly fun, besides when he calls you out on your mistakes…repeatedly. But even then, you know he tries to mean well. You both have to be the best or the other will end up looking like a fool–which (you assume) neither of you want to happen.

Knowing that you’re almost halfway through the semester is a little terrifying. All the dancers have been making great progress and everything is coming together seamlessly, but you can’t help but feel the nervousness set in.

You take a deep breath and clear your thoughts, getting nervous right now will do you no good. Thankfully, when you start dancing your mind settles and you’re able to concentrate on your performance.

Well, that is, until Jimin drops you during the lift. You might have understood the mistake if he hadn’t done it three times prior.

“Get up.” He holds his hand out for you, pulling you to your feet. “We need to get this number down, you know how important it is.”

“I’m aware of that,” you hiss. “But it would be nice if you weren’t letting me fall every two seconds.” You rub your aching side and stretch to see if that helps ease the pain.

“Just dance it off, you’ll be fine.” Jimin walks over to his stuff along the wall, before bending down to grab his water bottle.

You scowl. “Stop being ridiculous and hold me properly. I don’t have teeth anywhere down there,” you say motioning to the space between your legs. “You can put your hand where it belongs without worry, you know.”

Jimin blushes as soon as he hears your words, he turns away quickly before you notice. Yes, it’s technically his fault that you keep falling. It isn’t intentional, but he can’t help it. Especially when he can feel the warmth of your center from where his hand is resting when he goes in for the lift.

The thought of other parts of him being this close to your heat is driving him crazy and yeah, he may have faltered, which yeah, may have caused you to crash down once…twice. Okay, maybe three times. Or four?

It doesn’t matter. He’s so hyper-focused on why he’s thinking about you like this at all. You’re attractive, he already knew that. But this new-found thought of wanting to take you hard and fast, right here in the studio is something else. It comes from deep within, and he can’t decide if he wants to squash the idea completely or let it lead to something wild.

Jimin shakes his head, trying to get rid of those thoughts just long enough for you to both get through these next ten minutes before the rest of the crew arrives for rehearsal. “Alright, let’s go again.”

You get into position, Jimin falling behind you. You try to hold still but his breath tickles your neck while you wait for the music cue.

The motions are practically natural to you at this point, and you take a deep breath, preparing yourself in case you fall again.

You rapidly suck in air when you feel Jimin’s fingers press deep into your inner thigh this time as he lifts you. They are incredibly close, much closer than they were last time.

You won’t ever admit to it, but your mind is overflowing with dirty thoughts of Jimin’s fingers somewhere else. Particularly somewhere that would have you writhing within seconds.

Those thoughts are distracting, and you’re late for your cue to jump down. And somehow instead of jumping, your body twists around in a weird way as your head dives down toward the ground below you. Tensing, you brace for the impact that doesn’t come.

Unexpectedly, Jimin manages to catch you before any damage happens, and he quickly pulls you up, as if you were never upside down to begin with. His arms are wrapped right below your butt, causing your head to be directly above his. How on earth it got there, you have no idea.

But you aren’t questioning it. Adrenaline runs wild through your body, and you cling to him as if your life depends on it. Your arms are wrapped tightly around his neck, scared that you still might fall somehow.

Your faces are only a few inches apart in this position, which allows you to see how soft and smooth Jimin’s lips look. You slowly lick yours as he lowers you down to the ground, keeping the same amount of distance, or lack thereof, between you two. The realization that it would be so easy to kiss him right now has set in and you swear Jimin has the same mad thoughts; especially when he’s gripping your hips this tightly.

What you both don’t realize is that outside of the main doors, the rest of the dancers are watching with wide eyes and shocked faces. If it weren't for the unmistakable red hair you see in the mirror's reflection, who knows what might have happened? You don’t think about it, instead, you pull away and play it off before heading toward your bag to grab a drink.

“Morning everyone! What are we all waiting for?” Luca says from behind the dancers, “Let’s go in and get warmed up.”

He opens the door and sees you and Jimin at opposite ends of the room, each taking big gulps from your water bottles. Interesting…

Cat walks in and sets her stuff down next to Jimin’s and silently watches him. His face is flushed but she can’t tell if it was because of the intense moment you two just shared, or from the strain of the lifting sequence. She was the first to notice the look you two shared before the crowd outside the door, and she has a weird feeling about it.

Last she knew you were still fighting with Jimin during your pre-practices, although she’s very aware of the saying ’there’s a fine line between love and hate’. Cat makes a mental note to ask you about this morning’s situation later.

The first half of practice is weird, to say the least. Jimin is treating you like nothing happened. And while technically nothing happened, something almost did and you don’t know how you felt about the something.

Needless to say, you aren’t on top of your dance game today. It’s hard to concentrate with your head filled with empty-answered questions and even more confusion.

“Okay, everyone,” Luca echoes, stealing every dancer’s attention, “Let’s take five. When we reconvene we’ll do a recap of Scenes One through Three with no breaks. If we can get it down we’ll move onto the beginning of Scene Four today.”

You and Jimin happily turn in opposite directions, grateful for some space.

“Y/N, can you stay back? There’s something I want to go over with you,” Luca calls out, stopping you from heading in the direction of Cat and some of the other girls.

Oh no. That’s never a good sign.

“Don’t worry, you’re not doing anything wrong,” he says after seeing your smile falter. “I just see a little room for improvement with the last sequence before the song changes in scene three.”

He gestures for you to get into position in front of him, which you do without hesitation.

Luca moves closer to you and rests a hand on your lower back, “Tighten here and stretch.” He shows you how to position your body to make it look more elegant and elongated. “See how much longer you look now?” His eyes meet yours in the mirror. “Hold yourself like this through the rest of the dance. Trust me when I say you’ll notice a difference. So will everyone else.”

A blush creeps up your neck when his hand slides across your hip before he steps away from you, “Thank you for the tip.”

His eyes burn into yours, and you feel the heat growing in your lower stomach. “Anytime, Y/N.” His lips turned into a small smile, which you returned.

Jimin stalks silently as Luca touches you, his anger bubbling deep down inside him. Fuck, he doesn’t exactly want you, but he definitely doesn’t want anyone else to have you either. And he sure as hell doesn’t want Luca touching you like that or giving you those looks; looks that have disguised intentions with ulterior motives behind them.

He wants to tell Luca where to go and how to get there, but he knows better. Not only would it be unprofessional as hell, but Jimin would probably be screwed out of a lot of future events if he tells one of the best choreographers to fuck off.

He forces himself to look away and takes another deep breath, calming down a little before part two of rehearsals starts.

The second half of rehearsals ends sooner than expected, and Jimin storms off before you even have the chance to talk to him about this morning. You sigh, your eyes trailing his fast exit.

“Y/N! I’m heading to the vending machine for a granola bar, want to come with me?” Cat asks. You’re sure that her question has a hidden agenda too, but you go along with it anyway since you’re starving and need to eat something small before your next class.

“Sure, just give me a second to switch out of my pointe shoes.” You don’t like to wear yours for walking since they’re new and still stiff.

“So,” Catalina begins, watching you put the money into the machine. “What was that this morning? And don’t you dare try to say it was just dancing, because I’ve seen 'just dancing’ with Jimin and that was not at all what I saw earlier.”

You groan internally, not wanting to deal with her interrogation. Cat isn’t the type to judge you if you told her that you would’ve fucked Jimin right then if it wasn’t for the fact that you noticed her (and the rest of the dancers). But you don’t want to admit it to yourself.

Saying it and thinking it are two very different things, and you aren’t sure you can come to terms with saying that you want to fuck Jimin. Hell, you have no idea if you will feel the same way in an hour. So you choose to keep it to yourself for now.

“Did something happen between you two?” she asks bluntly.

“No, nothing happened between us.”

“And is that a good or bad thing?” she questions next.

“Good,” you huff, “I think…”

It’s been another busy few weeks, and things have been going great…until today. To be honest, this is probably the worst dance day you’ve had in years.

“I’m sorry guys, let’s start from the top,” you apologize again for messing up. The scene you’re going over today isn’t complicated by any means, it’s only a transition scene. But your head is elsewhere which, in turn, makes you mess up every couple of seconds.

You're not getting many approving looks from the room. Luca is a little worried, Madam Jamie has pursed lips, and the dancers are severely annoyed with you.

“No, Miss Y/N. Stop before you hurt yourself.” Mr. Jenson lets out a frustrated sigh. “Kyra, would you stand in for Y/N and show her how it’s properly done?”

You’re embarrassed that it’s gotten to this point. What is with you? You’ve done this sequence perfectly with Jimin this past week, hundreds of times at least. Now with the extra dancers on the floor, you seem to be forgetting it all.

Taking soft, shallow breaths is the only thing keeping you from crying in front of everyone. But they wouldn’t notice. All eyes are glued to Kyra, a senior who had also auditioned for the same role as you, as she dances with Jimin.

They dance beautifully, you can’t deny it, even if you want to. You can’t help but wonder if she would’ve been the better choice for the female lead.

“Thank you, Kyra. Everyone back into position now.”

Kyra walks past you and smirks. You know she’s thinking the same thing that you are. She probably also thinks that she’s capable of sweeping in and stealing your position. Like hell if you’re going to let that happen.

Even so, it’s not your decision to make and you know if you keep screwing this up it’s more than likely to happen.

“Hey, are you okay? What’s your deal?” Jimin whispers once he lines up with you again. The last thing you need is for him to make you feel worse for fucking up.

“I don’t know, it’s not a good day for me,” you whisper back as your eyes fill with tears. You’re completely exhausted, defeated, and disappointed.

“Just dance it off, we all get days like this. Follow my lead, okay? I promise I won’t let you mess up again.”

You nod, blinking back your tears. This is a different side of Jimin than you’re used to. He’s caring and knows exactly what to say to make you feel better.

After shaking off the earlier mishaps, you get yourself together and push through practice, making sure that the first official run-through of the program is a total success. It makes you feel a hell of a lot better than two hours earlier. You can tell that the rest of the group is just as ecstatic as you and Jimin are.

“That was great, Y/N!” he says, pulling you into a comforting hug. “See, all you needed was a little reassurance.”

You’re slightly sad when he pulls back, the warmth of his body is no longer felt. “Thank you for today. I would’ve completely fallen apart without you.”

“Hey don’t worry about it, make sure you get some rest this weekend. See you Monday!” He smiles softly and waves bye. Who knew Jimin had more to him than what everyone else saw?

“Hey, Y/N!”

You turn your head and see Madison, one of the upperclassmen who’s also in the show, walking toward you.

“What are you doing tonight? Some of the girls and I are planning on going out to celebrate our first successful run-through of the show. We’re wondering if you’d like to come?” She leans in a little closer, “We have a fake you can use to get into our favorite club, Wander. We’d love for you to let loose with us.”

Usually, you would turn down any interaction that involves alcohol, especially since you’re underage, but you don’t want to disappoint your potential new friends. Plus it does sound like a lot of fun, and after the practice you just had, you deserve to let loose and relax.

“Yeah, totally! I’d love to come.” Madison smiles and you both trade numbers.

“Okay cool, I’ll text you my address later. We’re gonna get ready at mine before we head out. See you later!” She gives you a quick hug before heading out the door.

You’re secretly excited to hang out with the older girls since you don’t have many other friends in your year. Especially not now with all your free time taken up by rehearsals.

Jimin stands outside the dance studio’s side door, slyly eavesdropping. He makes a mental note to accidentally run into you later. He isn’t sure what’s gotten into him, but he doesn’t want to go without seeing you for two days.

You intrigue him, and after your almost-kiss, Jimin wants to know what your lips feel like for real this time, not just what he has been imagining.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asks over the pounding music. You have no idea what to ask for; you obviously don’t drink and ordering something from the bar is a little out of your comfort zone since you don’t know what you’re doing.

Madison catches on and takes over. “Five shots of tequila for our group!” she yells while leaning over the bartop so he can hear her.

Oh boy, you don’t know much but you know enough to feel safe assuming tonight will be wild if you’re starting with shots, of all things.

With about a month left until the show, deciding to let loose with the girls is exactly the kind of break you need. Dancing, drinks, and good friends. Looking around, you’re happy to see that you have all three. It’s all a part of tonight’s plan.

What you don’t plan for, however, is seeing Jimin in the middle of the dance floor with Kyra all over him. After practice today, this is a total slap in the face.

You aren’t sure if the progress you’ve been making with Jimin is just one-sided, or if you had been imagining it this whole time. It feels like you’re both taking two steps forward in the right direction and then something like this will happen, sending you ten steps back.

Your eyes are glued to Kyra’s body as she dances with him, her hips moving at the perfect speed. You can’t help but be jealous of her. Not only is she gorgeous and a great dancer, but she also has a way of demanding everyone’s attention in any room she graces. Although, there’s only one person’s attention you want right now, and from what it looks like, you doubt you’ll be getting his anytime soon.

“Oh my god, is that Luca?” Catalina asks with a surprised tone, pointing towards the opposite end of the bar, “No way, it can’t be.”

“It is,” you laugh nervously before looking away. You’re a little worried that he might remember that you’re under the legal drinking age, only by a year, but still. How embarrassing would it be for him to get you kicked out…

“That’ll be $42,” the bartender drones, pushing the over-spilling shot glasses toward your group and happily taking whichever girls’ fifty-dollar bill in return.

You lift your glass along with the others, “Here’s to letting go and having fun!”

The tequila burns the back of your throat but that doesn’t stop you from hollering, “Let’s go dance!”

You pull Madison and Catalina onto the dance floor, coming to an abrupt stop when your back collides with someone., “Oh my gosh, I am so sor–” You pause and stare at the dark-haired man, “Oh. Hi.”

“Hi ladies, I hope you’re not getting into too much trouble tonight,” Luca jokes with a wide smile displayed across his face. He looks gorgeous dressed in all black, the leather jacket tops off his outfit.

“Oh of course not, Mr. Black,” Catalina giggles playfully, “We’re all good girls here.”

He raises his eyebrow which makes each of you giggle, “I’m not so sure about that. Can I buy you all a drink? Or is that a little weird?”

You look around at the girls; they do the same.

“Uh, sure? Madison finally says, breaking up the awkward silence.

Cat and one of her friends entertain Luca’s conversation while they wait at the bar. You slyly peek over your shoulder while dancing, looking for you-know-who. You can’t find him, but you’re happy to see that Kyra has moved on to her next man of the night.

"Hey,” Luca says, walking towards you with an extra drink in hand. “Here you go. Shhh, it’s our little secret,” he says humorously.

You thank him for the drink, nervously swirling the ice with the slim black straw in your cup.

“I’m happy I ran into you,” he begins, “Can I talk to you for a second, alone?”

“Oh, uh, sure!” You nod to Cat, silently saying that you’ll catch up with her later. He smiles and pulls you aside from your friends.

“What’s up?” You ask tensely while Luca grins, running a hand through his hair.

“I just want to tell you how impressed I’ve been with your progress so far, I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you at rehearsals.”

Oh my god.

“Really?” You gape.

“Absolutely,” he reaches for your hand, bringing you closer to him before bending down to plant his lips on yours. You freeze as he kisses you gently, entirely unsure of what to do in that situation.

He quickly pulls back after reading your body language, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Luca,” you say curtly, taking a step back, “I appreciate your tips in class and kind comments, but I think we should keep things professional here. You’re the choreographer and I’m a student...”

“Of course, I apologize again. How about I walk you back to your friends and we forget this happened?”

“That would be perfect.” You’re thankful that things don’t seem too awkward, and you only hope things will stay that way when you see each other Monday morning.

Jimin’s fingernails dig into the flesh of his palms as he clenches his fists. Fucking Luca Black. He was heading your way to say hi, but Luca led you in a different direction than the one your friends are heading to. He should have known better, but he follows behind slowly. And what he sees when he finally turns the corner doesn’t sit right with him.

Luca’s hand on your cheek as the two of you kiss. Jimin isn’t exactly sure who initiated it. And even though it’s eating him alive, he doesn’t want to know because it pains him either way.

He watches as Luca pulls away, and takes note of your stunned face. Jimin wants to believe that was because you didn’t enjoy it. He can’t hear what you’re talking about, and he truly wants to believe that Luca is making you uncomfortable based on your reaction to the kiss. But that hopeful thought is squashed as soon as you smile and take Luca’s hand, allowing him to lead you to the dance floor.

Jimin is still trying to process what he just witnessed even though you’re both long gone. He steps out of the shadows and throws his drink at the wall, ignoring the sound of the glass breaking behind him. Grumbling under his breath, Jimin takes the closest exit and slams the club door behind him.

He heads home with the hopes that a cold shower will ease his rage, but the cool water running down his back isn’t doing much for his boiling blood, nor is it getting rid of the image of Luca’s lips on yours. And inevitably, he can’t get you out of his head either which in turn results in him masturbating to those thoughts of you … which is anything but calming.

Jimin closes his eyes and imagines that it’s him kissing you, not Luca, and that he’s the one who has you pushed up against the wall. He can practically hear your soft whimpers, the ones you make when you’re doing partner stretches that always have him close to losing it right there in front of everyone at rehearsals.

But it isn’t him who’s stretching with you. His length quivers in his hand as he speeds up, trying to change his thoughts to you aroused in the club bathroom, his hand sliding underneath your dress and slipping into your panties. Jimin throws his head back at the image of you getting all worked up, but once again, it isn’t him that’s driving you wild. It’s Luca.

After the fifth attempt and still failing to picture himself with you, Jimin gives up. He groans, looking down at his length’s angry red tip that’s aching for release. And there’s only one thing that will give him that. You.

But not an imaginary you. The real you. The real you wanting him just as much as he wants you. He doubts that you ever will, not when you can have Luca instead.

Meaning that Jimin is basically screwed.

Monday is a killer. Jimin has been hateful to you all morning, and you genuinely have no idea why. He seems to be fuming now at the end of rehearsals, compared to the quiet angry vibe he was giving off earlier this morning.

“Hey, great job today Y/n. You’re doing phenomenal. I can’t wait to see this all come to life next week. See you tomorrow!”

“Thanks! Yes, see you tomorrow Luca.” You wave bye while he rushes out of the room, leaving just you and Jimin behind.

Jimin waits until Luca is out of earshot before saying anything. He’s been annoyed all day by your and Luca’s behavior after witnessing the two of you making out in the hallway of Wander.

He’s disgusted, even more so by the afterthoughts of Luca bringing you back to his place and taking advantage of you. Needless to say, he didn’t sleep much this weekend.

“God, you’re such a suck-up,” he criticizes, failing to hold back his evil words. “How special do you think you’re going to feel when the paid help you’re boning doesn’t remember your name the second he moves on to the next school and finds a new student to seduce?”

“Excuse me?”

“You can pretend all you want but I saw you Friday night. With him.”

Oh god…

You shake your head, “Jimin, I can explain–”

“Whatever, waitlist. I don’t want to hear your excuses.” He turns around and internally grimaces, upsetting you isn’t what he was going for. He’s pissed and unfortunately, you’re the only person he can take it out on. It’s a dick move to say things like that, especially since you deserve to be here just as much as everyone else.

Jimin knows he should just let it go, but he can’t help it. It’s been eating him alive all day. He’s pissed that you’re acting like a damn fool because of Luca’s attention. Luca’s eyes hadn’t left your body the entire day.

Fucking perv.

Jimin is more pissed that it’s bothering him so much. He shouldn’t care, he doesn’t–or at least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.

Jimin’s words stung, and you’re shaking out of pure anger. “What the fuck is your problem? I can handle the normal stick-up-your-ass behavior but it’s on a whole new level today. Chill out, okay? It isn’t what you think. Nothing happened after he kissed me. Not that it’s any of your goddamn business, but it actually made me, like, super uncomfortable and he apologized directly after. We both agreed it wasn’t professional, so piss off Jimin. And even if I did decide to take it further with Luca, it wouldn’t concern you. So stay out of it.” You’re near him when you finish, with crossed arms and eyes glaring.

It’s unbelievable Jimin would make such a comment; the last thing you need is for him to start telling people what he saw.

You know you would be harshly reprimanded for using a fake ID to get into a club, but also for accepting a drink from someone who is a teacher, and especially for kissing that same teacher.

Jimin is just as heated as you are. So his intuition was right that night. His anger only grows, wanting to punch Luca over and over again for making you uncomfortable like that. How could Luca not tell that you weren’t actually into him, but rather idolized him for his contributions to the dance world? How dare he use that against you to pull a move like that?

“Fine,” he growls in your face, totally furious at the situation, and furious with himself for caring this much about it–about you. You’re driving him crazy, even now when you’re pissed with him. It turns him on how strong and defensive you always are, and fuck, he wants to do something about it.

“Fine,” you snap back, taking another step forward as your eyes subconsciously lower to his parted mouth.

In a matter of milliseconds, your lips collide and your hands are all over each other’s bodies. He lifts you into his arms and slams your back into the mirrors. It’s a miracle that they don’t shatter from his force.

You gasp at the contact and Jimin takes the opportunity to shove his tongue further into your mouth. Your legs lock around his waist while you continue to explore each other’s mouths and bodies ravenously.

Jimin pulls away and tugs your leotard down your arms, freeing your breasts from the tight compression.

“You’re so fucking annoying, do you know that?” He snarls before leaving a line of rough kisses along your neck and down your chest. You whimper at the sensation and run your fingers through his hair.

“You’re so fucking loud, do you always have to say so much?” You moan in response.

Jimin is starved for your taste and can’t wait any longer. His hands travel down your side while his lips close over one of your soft peaks, sucking it in between his teeth.

You mewl, crashing your head back against the glass from the sheer amount of pleasure.

Jimin abruptly pulls away and brings his face back in front of yours. “What? Do you have something to say?” he asks with fire in his eyes. But with his lips replaced by his fingers, twisting and tugging, you’re helplessly tongue-tied.

He moves one hand lower and another soft moan escapes your lips, his middle finger dancing dangerously above your panties before dipping into your slickened folds.

Jimin knows exactly where and how to touch you, causing your head to spin. He feels himself hardening watching your face contort in pleasure, and nearly coming in his pants when you slowly lick your bottom lip, pulling it in between your teeth and letting out a long moan in the process.

“Mmm, Jimin,” you cry, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Jimin notices this and instantly pulls away. You don’t get to come that easily. Even though it makes him super fucking excited to see what his touch does to you. God, this is so much better than what he imagined.

You whimper at the loss of his touch, “What the fuck?”

“Turn around,” he demands, his eyes flooding with lust and a dash of something dark. He undresses you rather quickly, leaving your tights and leotard wrapped around your legs.

You decide you aren’t going to let him have all the fun, sneaking a hand back behind you. Jimin grits his teeth in pleasure as your hand slips into his pants. His length twitches in anticipation of feeling you wrapped around him. You pull his member out and lead him between your damp folds, moaning deliciously at the contact.

The scent of your arousal has now filled the room and Jimin can’t hold back any longer. He wants to fulfill his fantasy of taking you hard and fast, right here in front of the mirror. Without a warning he slams himself into you, causing you to lose your breath.

Your back is against him as he relentlessly pounds you from behind. The force of his thrusts are hard and you use your hands as leverage against the mirror to avoid being crushed by him, even though it would certainly be worth it.

Jimin brings a hand up around your neck and holds your head straight so he can watch when you come. You’re close and he knows just what to do.

“Say my name,” he demands, using his other hand to pinch your clit. “Look at me and say the name of the man who’s making you come like you never have before.”

“Jimin, oh my-” The waves of pleasure wash over your entire body, every inch of your skin tingles. You pulsate around him, but he’s not done with you yet.

“That’s damn right.” Jimin twists you around again, lifting you against the reflective glass. He keeps his fast pace, with a fistful of your hair held between his tightening fingers.

“You’re such a fucking slut. Look at you losing it over my cock,” he snarls with a clenched jaw, “I’m gonna fuck you like this until the rest of the class comes in.”

Jimin rams into you with twice the amount of force as before. “I’d make that fucking Italian bastard watch as I take you hard and make you feel this good.” He brings his lips up to your ear and whispers, “He could never,” before harshly biting your ear, sending you completely over the edge for a second time.

Jimin watches you unfold, your beauty completely mesmerizes him. Your entire body is on fire from oversensitivity while Jimin’s fingers rub your throbbing nub. You watch, completely hypnotized, as he brings his soaked fingers up to his mouth and sucks them clean.

“Oh, don’t think we’re anywhere near done yet,” he smirks devilishly, moving his thumb back to your clit and rubbing in crude circles. Your eyes squeeze shut at the sensation, and you can’t catch your breath. It’s too much.

Jimin hisses when your fingernails dig into his shoulders. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re so tight right now.” It isn’t long after those words leave his lips that he’s shuddering inside of you, his release shooting into the depths of your heat.

Your insides coil as you reach the peak of your third and final orgasm. Jimin holds your legs steady as you come hard over his cock, and swallows your moans with his mouth.

He slowly retreats out of you and presses his flushed cheek against yours. You can feel his heartbeat thumping out of control while you both catch your breath.

After a moment, he draws back and lowers you to the ground. You both chuckle at the state of your appearance. “I think I have a towel in my bag, one sec.” He says while tucking himself back into his pants as you readjust your hair, trying to make the whole ’i just had sex’ look a little less obvious.

You’re still breathing heavily when he returns to wipe you clean.

“Mmm,” you hum in total satisfaction, and still a little out of it - if you had to be honest. “I should piss you off more often.”

He gives you a look, “Hurry up and get dressed before anyone sees you.”

You’re the one to smirk this time, “I thought you wanted people to see me?”

“Haha, very funny.”

“Hurry up, you’re taking too long,” you whine while Jimin attempts to undo his stage pants as fast as he can.

“I’m trying,” he mutters, silently praying when his zipper finally works, “There we go.”

He lines himself up to you and pushes into your center.

You bite your lip to avoid making any noises as he stretches you out. The two of you are in the small storage closet behind the stage; there’s only about an hour or two until the opening night show starts.

Jimin thought you had to be joking at first when you whispered how badly you needed him after you both were dressed and ready to warm up with the rest of the dancers. But much to his delight, you weren’t kidding.

Hopefully, they won’t notice your absence. Who are you kidding, they probably know that you two are fucking. Plus, it’s kind of obvious when both lead roles go 'missing’ at the same time.

At first, he was torn between following you into the tight space–wanting to be in another tight space–and doing what he normally would call the right thing, which was preparing for tonight. But after seeing the look on your face, Jimin was quick to follow you into the closet.

“Shhh, you need to stay quiet,” Jimin grunts quietly with a hand over your mouth, silencing your moans.

You grip his shoulders as he quickens his pace, bringing you both over the edge.

“Holy fuck,” he quietly whines, the sensation of your inner walls clenching his length is addicting. It isn’t long after your sweet release that he’s quivering. He pulls out, knowing you can’t dance with his release filling you. He shudders one last time, his come shoots out and onto the wooden floor below.

You giggle, “Good thing we’re in a place that can clean that up.” you say referencing his load.

He rolls his eyes at your joke and leans in to give you a quick kiss, “You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

“Yes, typically.”

You flatten out your costume and zip each other up, leaving the closet one at a time. You first of course, since you needed to touch up your makeup now. Leaving Jimin behind to clean up his mess.

About fifteen minutes later you meet Jimin backstage to practice, stretch, and chat along with everyone else. The jitters are bouncing off of everyone and you can’t stand still from excitement, a little nervousness too. But mostly excitement.

“Jimin, are you feeling okay? You look a little stiff and tired if I must say…” Madam Jamie mentions after watching him practice a few scenes.

“Nothing to worry about Madam, had a tiring warm-up is all. Not to worry though, I am more than ready for tonight.”

Madam Jamie reminds him how important rest and lots of water are when practicing hard before moving along to the next student.

“Hmmm, what is it that you usually tell me?” You begin, giving him a coy look, “Oh right. 'Just dance it off.’ That should fix your issue, correct?” You look down at his crotch, and back up at him with a twinkle in your eyes.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he says, daring you to go on.

“After our vigorous warmup, I’m sure you do. But we’re going on stage soon. So suck it up, sweetie.”

He can’t wait to make you regret that statement when he teases you later tonight. He had big plans to celebrate. And knowing you, you would love them.

#jimin fanfic #jimin oneshot #jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin x you #bts fanfic #bts smut #jimin bts #park jimin #ksmutsociety #kvanity #shadowkoo #200

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kassgender · 9 months

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Well, if he loses his confidence after seeing me in action...

DON'T come crying to me.

PT: Well, if he loses his confidence after seeing me in action... DON'T come crying to me. END PT

Welcome to KASSGENDER, a blog dedicated to xenogenders, ID packs, and rentry graphics! We are run by a group of friends and would love to reach out to other creators. We would love a promo post now that we have reopened our inbox!

Please feel free to ask to be removed from this list!

@rottenparasite @lovesicklie , @zinkminisplat , @liminalmindscape , @landmineexplosiongirl , @landmineexplosiongirl , @buntress , @thehauntedcemetery , @thehelloverlord , @essthereal , @knigato , @thiefbi @gender-goth , @rosenlita & anyone else who'd like to promo!

#crow - a gift from the fallen #a song of storms #under a red moon #mogai #xenogenders #rentry graphics #graphics #id packs #npts #promo post #mogai promo

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mermaidgirl30 · 2 months

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✨Dark Shades of Innocence Lost Part 6: Keep Me From Falling✨

Club Owner! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: I have been writing this one on and off for a little over a month, and it was a lot! Be prepared for an emotional rollercoaster and please pay attention to those tags. This one gets dark. Thank you to @lotusbxtch for being the best beta and making this chapter shine! 🥰 I would like as much feedback on this chapter, so don’t be afraid to reblog or comment because your comments are what sparks my writing 🩷

Chapter Summary: After fighting your feelings for weeks, you decide to go back to the club. Back to those dark shades of red where brown eyes pull you under and feelings become much more than you bargained for.

Word Count: 14.1k

Rating: Explicit 18+ only MDNI

Chapter Tags: A lot of angst, jealousy, so many feelings, yearning, anxiety, toxic ex, flashbacks of physical abuse and trauma, soft Joel, protective Joel, no use y/n, a lot of tears, fist fight, I don’t want to put any spoilers so I will omit some of the tags, switching POVs

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The flashing red lights outside Club Inferno shine bright against the glow of the full moon. A brisk breeze cuts through the humid air, blowing through your long waves and kissing your bare shoulders. It sinks underneath the dark blue summer dress that clings to your figure. Your body hums with nerves, with need. You want Joel.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

He’s all you think about, he’s all you want to think about. Even at work, when you should be focusing on organizing bookshelves and paperwork, your mind always goes to him.

Sure, maybe at first you didn’t want a relationship, didn’t want to blur the lines. But you liked him, you really liked him. And you’re not sure when that line got crossed, but you were ready. Ready to take it to the next level. Needed to. You needed more. More of him.

So, now was your chance to make that happen, to tell him exactly what you wanted from him. A relationship. It was what you always wanted. You were just so scared to let your walls down again, but for him you would. For Joel you’d do just about anything.

If you didn’t… well, you’ve already lost him once. You’re not sure if you can lose him again.

When you reach the glossy black doors and step through after getting your ID checked, you see the club is buzzing with crowds of people tonight. The music is loud and blaring, even upstairs is jam-packed with bodies. But you only came here for one thing tonight: Joel Miller.

You stop at the corner of the bar, brushing your hand against the sleek bar top and run your hand against the cool material. Scanning the crowd, you look for the handsome man that stands out amongst the rest. The man with the dark brown eyes that makes every single nerve ending vibrate inside you every time you set your eyes on him. That smoldering, captivating, charming man that sets your heart on fire.

A couple of girls in skimpy dresses get up from their bar stools and leave you room to see the rest of the crowd at the bar. Fresh faces of men and women you haven’t seen here before cross your sight until you get to the very end of the bar. Your heart gets stuck in your throat when you see it.

Right there at the very end of the bar top sits Joel, all muscle in a button-up crimson flannel with the top three buttons undone to expose his broad chest, dark hair peeking out of the open shirt. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, accentuating the defined veins that wrap around his forearms, and the black watch clasped on his left wrist just sets it off even more. But what paralyzes you is the fact that he’s sitting at the bar with another woman. Someone who isn’t you.

Her big, blonde curls fall around her pink blush-filled cheeks, and her tight red dress exposes large breasts that spill from the top of the low cut design. Red lips purse and laugh as she beams at Joel every time she brushes her hand against his fist that’s clenched around an amber glass of whiskey.

Two weeks without him and he’s already wrapped around another woman’s finger. Go fucking figure. You told him it was all just for fun, but it never really was that to you, was it?

Your blood runs cold and you feel as if you just got hit with a metal bat against the back of the head. You tightly dig your manicured nails into the bar top. It feels as if a sharp knife slices deep into your back, slowly carving against your spine as it splits you in half.

Another light touch to his hand as she leans over to whisper in his ear sets your nerves on fire. You watch him laugh; that crooked smile that makes you dizzy every time you look at it now eats away at your insides. You can’t watch this. You can’t fucking do this tonight. He was supposed to be yours, but you’re too late…

You feel a hot prick against the back of your eyes as your vision blurs, fiery tears bleeding into your eyeliner as you back up, your hand still clutching the bar top. You don’t watch where you’re going, and an entire glass of some kind of alcohol slides off the bar top and onto the floor, shattering and sloshing liquid as it splashes against your black high heels.

The crowd around the bar goes silent as they all turn to face you, but what stuns you into place is when Joel looks up and sees you standing there looking like a lost puppy. Your bottom lip quivers as you blink back tears, staring between him and the blonde girl that can’t keep her fucking hands off him.

His eyes grow wide as he looks at you stunned, immediately standing up from his bar stool as he pushes back the woman’s hand that reaches for him once again. His broad shoulders roll back as his full attention is on you, and then he’s moving fast, calling your name over the loud music as his voice gets washed out by the blaring noise.

You turn and push through the crowd, clawing your way blindly to a safe space where maybe you can breathe air that isn’t polluted again. You feel nailed to the wooden floor, chains ripping into your ankles as you force your legs to keep going. Joel calls your name, but you don’t stop to turn back around. You’ll break down in tears if you stop now. So you keep going, dragging your heavy feet until you reach the double doors and barrel your way outside.

The night air stills around you as the full moon shines bright behind fluffy clouds. The quiet parking lot is filled with parked cars, but everyone is inside. Not a soul stands outside besides you. That is, until Joel comes crashing through the double doors and calls your name again loudly.

“Hey, stop!” Joel yells out of breath as you hear his boots scuff across the pavement. “Didn’t you hear me callin’ your name?”

You turn around, crossing your arms over your chest and putting on a brave face, not letting him see the tears that scorch behind your sad eyes. “Guess not,” you mumble as you look down at the dusty cement.

“Hey, will you jus’ stop?” he asks with furrowed eyebrows as the lines on his forehead scrunch together intently. You shake your head and don’t answer, but he doesn’t like that at all. “Angel, talk to me.”

“Don’t call me angel,” you mumble as you retreat a step back from his advances.

He takes a step forward and reaches out an arm to try to catch you. When he curls his calloused fingers over your wrist, you pull it out of his grip and shake him off. “Don’t,” you warn sharply as you turn your head the other direction.

You hear Joel huff out in frustration as he fights to compose himself. “It was that girl, wasn’t it? Is that what you’re so worked up about, huh?”

You bite your lower lip to keep from screaming and whirl back to him as you fight with yourself not to lose control. You purse your lips and then spill yourself to him. “Oh, I don’t know, Joel. Maybe you should go back to your little date.”

“It wasn’t a date,” he expresses as his jaw clenches up, “it was jus’ a drink. She came up to me first, and all I did was offer to buy her a drink. She’s an old client of mine, nothing more.”

“An old client, huh?” you scoff and feel your cheeks burn hot.

“Yeah. Tommy and I did a job at her company’s site.”

“I’m sure you did.” You roll your eyes and scrape your heel against the concrete.

“Angel, I didn’t ask her here tonight. She jus’ showed up unannounced. What you saw was nothing.”

“Oh, yeah? Then why was she all over you? Did you buy her a drink so you could sleep with her just like you did with me?!” Your voice comes out louder than you wanted it to, but you’re so worked up that you can’t control your flaring nostrils and watery eyes. You can practically taste the stench of regret in your throat. You should’ve never come here, should’ve never messed with a man like him. Tall, dominant, charming, and so goddamn handsome. What the fuck did you think was going to happen?

“Whoa, easy there, darlin’. I wasn’t gonna sleep with her,” he says carefully as his voice stays even. Almost gentle enough to calm you down a bit, but even that makes you more uneasy.

“No? It sure looked like you were enjoying yourself, and she seemed to be all over you,” you spit out venomously, kicking the end of your heel into the hard cement.

“Why are you actin’ like this?” he asks, exasperated, his eyebrows knitting together into a hard line.

“Acting like what?” You seethe as you entwine your fingers tightly together, desperately trying to anchor yourself.

“Actin’ jealous! All I did was buy her a drink. If I would’ve known you were comin’ I wouldn’t have even…”

“Wouldn’t have what? Offered to eat her out on your fucking pool table!” you screech.

“Jus’ stop!” he growls, making your eyes go wide and your heart hammer impossibly fast in your chest. “Is there somethin’ you want to say?” he asks as his jaw ticks and arches an eyebrow, his dark eyes meeting your gaze.

Your voice is suddenly as small as a mouse as you reply, “Say something? No, I…”

“You’re the one who said you didn’t want more. Remember? I asked you, was willing to give you more. I wanted to give you more. All you had to do was say the words, angel. That’s all you had to do.”

He stands there staring at you, eyes locked with yours as you dig your long nails deep into the fabric of your dress, nervous sweat pooling at the edges of your soft curls as you bite your tongue in agony.

All you had to do was say the words. Why couldn’t you say those fucking words back in that little diner? What was so goddamn hard about that? You wanted him. You fucking wanted him. So badly that it actually felt like your heart was shattering in your chest.

“But you… after that night at the diner, you gave me the cold shoulder,” you finally reply. “You practically iced me out, didn’t ask me to come back to the club, couldn’t text me back, didn’t even…”

“I was givin’ you space,” Joel interrupts. “I didn’t think… fuck. I didn’t think you wanted to come back!” He rakes a hand slowly through his silver threaded scruff and sighs, cursing under his breath as he stares at you with pure turmoil in his hazy eyes.

“But I did want to come back! Isn’t that what I showed up for tonight? To see you?” you ask, appalled, eyes red with tears pooling across your glassy irises.

“I don’t know, angel, why don’t you tell me!” His voice sounds so angry, so gravelly, so very hurt. And you see it in the flared nostrils and wide eyes. He’s just asking questions which you should’ve answered a long time ago.

“I didn’t… I didn’t want space. I never did…” Your eyes gloss over, and your bottom lip quivers as you fight to keep yourself in one piece. You want to say something, anything to make this stop, but your words run dry as he stares at you carefully.

He looks at you fiercely another moment as he licks his bottom lip in frustration. “Tell me somethin’, will ya? What is it that you want from me?”

The question comes out almost like a snake just bit your ankle. Alarming, unexpected. “I… uh…” You can’t even formulate a coherent sentence as the words rush through your head. I was willing to give you more. I wanted to give you more. But they remain stuck in your throat, unable to escape.

He takes two steps forward, adjusting the rolled up sleeves of his red flannel. “What. Do. You. Want?”

The question taunts you, words building as you try to unjumble them. You can’t think straight, not when his mahogany cologne is burning your nostrils, not when his dark chocolate eyes are honing into yours, not when he’s so close that you want to drop all pretense and jump into his strong arms. But you can’t. It’s not that simple.

This is all getting too complicated, and you don’t know how much further you can go without putting yourself into a vulnerable position. You already are in a vulnerable position, so why can’t you just say exactly how you feel?

After your silence, Joel rakes a hand through his dark, greying scruff and sighs again. “Goddamn it, angel. Jus’ tell me what you want.”

“I… I….” You fidget and keep your eyes locked on his in a panic.

For fuck’s sake just tell him what you want!

Joel pinches the bridge of his nose as he huffs in defeat. When he looks back up at you, he takes a long, slow breath and nods his head. “I can see this isn’t easy for you. But darlin’, if you don’t tell me what you want then I can’t give you that. Now, do you want me to go walk back into my club and go back to that girl, or…?”

“No!” you plead as you reach your arm out and grab his wrist, holding it like it’s the only thing that’ll save you from falling to your death. Joel looks down at your hand gripping his tanned skin and looks back up with a mix of grief and hope in his eyes.

“No?” he asks with eyebrows raised in question. “So, tell me. What is it that you want? Is it me you want? Do you want more, need more? Because I can give that to you, angel. I can give you so much more… if you’ll jus’ let me.”

“You… you left me alone on the curb after I tried asking you about the guitar lesson…” you stammer out.

He sighs and runs a hand swiftly through his hair, blowing out a long breath as he finds the words he wants to say. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I jus’... I was confused and angry and hurt because I thought… I didn’t think you wanted to be with me, and I really fuckin’ liked you.” He stops to correct himself. “Well, like you. And I apologize for jus’ icin’ you out. You didn’t deserve that. You never deserved that. I was jus’ sorta hopin’ we could be more, ya know…”

His words leave you standing with your jaw dropped and eyes wide. “I thought… I thought I could be more than jus’ someone you hooked up with,'' Joel continues. “I wanted… I wanted to give you the world...”

Jesus. He’s just as wrecked as you are. Holy shit.

Your hand drops from his wrist as you fidget with the hem of your dress, nerves rushing through you like a raging river. He reaches his long arm out and glides calloused fingers gently down your jawline, pushing a curl behind your ear. And it feels so good. So good that you just want to melt inside his warm touch.

Say it. Say it right fucking now before you ruin everything all over again.

“I want… I want… y—”

Your sentence is interrupted by the loud slamming of the front door of the club and then the pounding of feet on the pavement as you hear keys jangling from jeans and mumbling of gibberish you can’t understand. You jump out of Joel’s reach from the fright and compose yourself to act normal in front of a stranger coming out of the club.

When you look up to see who so rudely interrupted your confession, your eyes go wide and the breath gets knocked from your chest as you take in exactly who stalks toward you.

Jason. Your ex. Holy shit…

He says your name in surprise, calling out to you as you freeze up in place. This can’t be happening. This can’t be fucking real. Your stomach drops at the sight of his large figure, and your mouth drops open in shock.

“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” he smirks as his murky green eyes stare coldly back at you. “Hi there, babydoll. Remember me?”

You blink once, twice, but he doesn’t disappear. This isn’t a dream. He fucking found you.

“J… Jason?” Your eyes go as wide as an owl’s, your palms sweating as you take in his figure. Tall, tattoos covering his entire right arm, muddy green eyes that could kill, blonde shaggy hair that falls to his neckline, strong muscles that could snap a man in half, a gold chain glinting around his neck, and worn hands that could tear into your flesh.

“Miss me?” he smirks as you see nothing but coldness in his swampy eyes.

“I thought you were in jail…” you say quietly, just loud enough for him to hear as he moves toward you slowly, his strides wide and terrifying as he scuffs clean sneakers against the cool pavement.

“They let me out on good behavior,” he laughs as he shakes his head, pieces of blonde falling into his eyes as he pushes them away. “Didn’t know I’d run into you here. But I’m sooooo glad I did,” he chuckles, stepping closer.

Joel stands and watches the two of you, a conflicting look filling his face as his eyebrows furrow together in concentration. He looks so confused, which he should be. You didn’t tell him about Jason, never even planned to. You thought all memories of Jason were gone as you worked so hard to forget, but now they’re back with a vengeance, and you start to remember everything.

“You… you’re not supposed to be here,” you gulp nervously as you take a hesitant step back, but he keeps stalking towards you. Getting closer and closer until he’s only a couple steps in front of you.

“Baby, I can be anywhere I want to be,” he croons sickeningly. “And looks like I picked a good night to come out to the club.” You can smell the alcohol falling off his chapped lips, can see how drunk he is already with the way he sways and slurs. This isn’t good, none of this is good.

You take one more step back, but he grabs your wrist hard and holds out your left arm as he drags a predatory finger over the faded scar that sits on the inside of your wrist. “I see this hasn’t gone away. A keepsake to remember me by, huh?” he teases as he yanks you closer to him.

“Let go,” you demand with a desperate plea in your voice as you try to shove away from him, but he only jabs his nail beds into your wrist as you wince in pain. “I said let go,” you whine as hate fills his cloudy eyes.

“No, I don’t think so,” he chuckles, holding you in place.

“Get the fuck off her,” Joel growls as he pushes Jason away with barely any effort. Jason almost falls off the edge of the curb.

Joel looks at you with concern laced in his gentle brown eyes. “Are you okay?” he asks as he looks at the way you hold the inside of your wrist. The faded scar comes into his view and Joel stares at it, his jaw clenching as realization caves in. “Did he… did he do that to you?”

You don’t answer, but the way your eyes start to water tells him everything he needs to know.

His eyes turn from concerned to full-on burning, rage taking over as he flexes his fingers into a tight fist and ticks his jaw up. He’s not just mad, no. He’s furious. Something inside you clenches up as you see how wrecked he looks; he looks like he wants to eat Jason alive.

“Hey, fucker! Step away from her. She’s mine,” Jason warns as he shoves Joel hard in the shoulder as Joel stumbles back a few steps.

Joel snarls at Jason, and you swear you’ve never seen him look this feral before. They’re going to fight. Oh, god. No. This isn’t what you wanted. They can’t just…

“She ain’t your girl, asshole.” Joel snaps. “Now get the fuck out of here.”

Jason doesn’t listen; he just hounds Joel and pushes him hard against the brick wall as he runs over and grabs the collar of Joel’s crimson flannel. “The fuck she is!” Jason yells aggressively. “Who the fuck are you to tell me she’s not, hmm? Have you been messing around with her? Yeah you have, I can practically smell you on her.” Jason slams Joel’s head against the hard bricks.

No, no, no, not Joel!

“Jason, stop!” you scream as you run over and try to intercept.

“You have no right bein’ here on my property, putting your hands on me or her. So, I’m gonna tell you one more time. Get the fuck out of here before I call the cops,” Joel snarls as he grabs the front of Jason’s shirt and pushes him hard out of his grasp.

Jason’s jaw clenches, and his eyes grow impatient. “NO.” The next thing you know, Jason is throwing his fist in the air, and it comes down like lightning against Joel’s jaw. Your eyes grow wide as you hear just how hard the punch hits him, and you’re gasping in horror as you watch, stunned in silence.

This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.

Joel takes a few seconds to recover, then he’s moving fast as he shoves Jason against the rough bricks and throws a punch to his nose. You hear the snapping sound of broken bones, but Jason just keeps going.

Jason grabs a hold of Joel’s collar and throws him hard while another punch lands against his face. You can’t stand it, can’t watch them beat each other to death. You don’t want any part of this. You just want all the loud, violent sounds to stop. You have to do something.

Before Jason throws another punch in Joel’s direction, you step between them and try to push Jason away. “Jason, I said stop!”

Before you know what happens next, Jason slaps you so hard across the cheek that it nearly makes you see stars. He pushes you roughly and watches you lose your balance on the concrete. Cupping your cheek, you fall to the ground with a thud as it all comes back to you in a flash. You hear Joel scream your name in the distance and see him throwing Jason to the ground out of the corner of your eye, but you’re barely even there anymore.

Your vision goes spotty, and all you can hear is the white noise as your ears start to ring insufferably loud. Your palms burn as you dig your fingers into the cold concrete, feeling smaller and more invisible than you’ve ever felt in your life as your heart rate kicks up as the adrenaline rushes out. Your scar aches, your eyes shutting as you remember everything that happened all those years ago. You remember, you remember it all.

You remember how drunk Jason got that dark, rainy evening. You remember him cussing you out as you fixed dinner for him, remember him demanding you to bring him another bottle of beer, remember him chewing you out because you didn’t twist the lid open for him, remember him throwing the glass dinner plate across the room as sharp glass littered the soft carpet.

And that’s when he snapped.

He shattered the glass bottle against the edge of the coffee table as broken glass and alcohol spilled everywhere on the cream carpet. You remember him pushing you down into the shards, the sharp edges cutting into your skin; remember him hovering over you as he dug a piece deep into your wrist and called you a filthy whore, dragging the glass deeper into your skin. Remember all the blood that was spilling out, staining the carpet crimson as he made you look him dead in the eyes and threatened to do worse to you. You remember the police barging into the small apartment as they body-slammed him to the ground and cuffed his hands behind his back. You remember the ambulance taking you away. You remember how close you were to dying, how you almost didn’t make it out alive, how you woke up shaking and scared in the hospital bed, afraid he’d come back to finish you off. You remember it all, you remember everything.

Your cheek burns hot as you cup it with your palm, feeling the scrapes on your hand bleed into the pain as wet tears spill down your face. It’s like it’s happening all over again. The pain, the screaming, the drunk mess of a man, the accusations, the absolute sheer terror you feel seeping through your thin bones. You feel so fragile, so torn, and you feel as if you're slipping through the concrete cracks, dying a little inside.

The faint noise of thrown punches and bodies slamming to the ground reaches your ears again, but you don’t have the strength to look up. You can only sit still, fade away with the noise, try to piece yourself back together when you know you can’t. It’s too much. It’s too fucking much.

All of a sudden, the front doors of the club slam open, and you hear that familiar warm drawl. “That’s enough, Joel. You got him good,” Tommy says firmly.

You hear the faint grunts of Joel sending punches right and left to Jason who lies on the ground just taking the hits, too drunk now to even comprehend what’s happening. You wince at the noises, the punches reverberating through your body just like you were lying on that floor passed out cold, only the echoes of policemen and the ER workers picking your lifeless body up off the glass covered floor.

“Hey, I said enough,” Tommy repeats. You hear the throws of punches die out into silence, only hearing quiet shuffling that echoes in your ringing ears.

Suddenly, you feel someone’s hands on your shoulders, shaking you to get up. You shy away, screaming no, but then the hands are back on you. They’re warm, welcoming, comforting. A ray of sunshine you need to pick you up off the ground because you don’t have the strength to do it yourself.

“Hey, look at me,” he says adamantly, but you pull out of his enticing grip that begs for you to hold on to him.

“No,” you say sternly as you fall back on your palms and wince in pain. You’re so cold, so weak, so broken. How did you ever pick yourself up off the ground that first time?

Joel reaches for you again, and this time it’s more careful, delicate. “Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s me, it’s Joel. ‘S okay now. ‘S okay.” This time you let him help you off the cold ground, turning you around to face him as you sit on your bruised knees, staring down at the hollow ground.

“Hey, can you look up for me?” he asks quietly as you shake your head no and keep your eyes glued to the ground. You can’t do it, you’ll surely break if you see even the tiniest scratch on his face.

“Baby, look in my eyes. Please, jus’ look at me. C’mon, sweetheart,” he coos as he cups your chin and lifts your head.

Your breathing is erratic, your pulse quickening as you try to focus on him and him alone. You lock eyes with him, seeing those concerned flecks of dark brown swirl in your vision as he breathes out and sighs. “There ya go, nice and slow. Jus’ breathe for me.”

Your eyes go wide as you see the deep red and purple bruises covering his strong left cheekbone, a tinge of crimson blood covering his knuckles he used it to avenge your honor. He got hurt. He’s hurt because of you.

“Joel, you… you’re hurt,” you stutter out as you place a hand gently over his bruises as he winces back in pain.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry ‘bout me, sweetheart. You’re the one I’m worried ‘bout. Are you… okay?” he asks cautiously as he traces his calloused thumb over your jawline. You pick apart the question, going over the events that had just happened in the span of ten minutes. You weren’t okay, you were far from okay.

“I… I’m…” Your mumbling stops as you hear Jason yelling and stirring up trouble as he rambles on about how he’ll be back. You catch him saying “slut” and calling you and Joel vulgar names as security calls the cops.

“Sweetheart, say somethin’,” Joel pleads as he drops his large hand over yours and squeezes.

The wave of shock hits you like lightning as your scar burns, and the memories flood your mind in the present. This time you see Joel lying there in the puddle of blood, wrist cut up with Jason standing over him with a bottle of alcohol and a smug smirk tugging at his cheeks as his dark eyes stare down at your and Joel’s dying bodies. It’s too much, it’s too fucking much.

You feel hot tears swarm your vision as you throw your arms around Joel and sink your face into his warm flannel. The one that smells like him, his musk, his warm scent. The tears don’t stop pouring, your sobs echoing in the distance as you feel your body completely melt against Joel. You hear him call your name, feel him try to talk to you as he tries to get your attention, but you’re too far gone, too broken to feel anything.

“Tommy!” Joel screams as you hear Tommy’s footsteps scuff quickly over the cement. “Make sure that fucker never steps foot in our club again, and make sure the cops lock him up. Fucker assaulted me and her tonight. I’m gonna take her home. Jus’ make sure he doesn’t cause any more trouble.” Joel snarls as you feel his arms snake around you.

“Don’t worry, Joel. I’ve got it. Motherfucker is gonna pay for what he did,” Tommy spits as he storms off to the front doors.

Joel tries to stir you from his grasp, but you just hold onto him as tight as a koala. “Sweetheart, hey. We need to get up. Do you think you can get up?” Joel asks carefully as he tries to pry you up. You don’t budge, don’t even make a sound as tears blur your vision.

“Alright, c’mon,” he sighs as he stoops down and picks you up, cradling you in his strong arms as he carries you to his truck while your eyes soak the front of his flannel. “I’ve got you, babygirl. It’s gonna be okay,” he coos as he brushes his lips over the top of your head and sets you down in the passenger seat.

He fastens the seatbelt over your lap until it clicks and lingers his fingers against your cheek. You pull away from him, leaning your head to the opposite side as tears begin to soak the fabric of your soft dress. You hear him sigh and listen to him back up, gently closing the passenger door while he shuffles to the driver’s side.

He gets himself situated in the seat, and you can feel that hovering gaze over you as he runs his fingers down his clipped scruff. You sink into the edge of the door, curling yourself into a tight ball as you feel his stare smother your insides.

You don’t want him to see you like this, all broken and torn to shreds. He wasn’t supposed to know this side of you. The part you keep closed up in a tight glass bottle that drifts off to sea, where no one will see the mess you keep hidden away.

This wasn’t supposed to fucking happen, but it did. It did.

You close your eyes tight and lean against the glass window, throwing up your shields as you drown out the sounds of the low vibrations of the truck, keeping Joel's concerned, prying eyes from your glassy stare, even blocking out his gravelly voice as he whispers soft words under his breath.

This is too much, it’s all too much. You just want to disappear, let shadows envelop you in darkness, fade away so you don’t have to keep living those horrible nightmares night after night.

This was all Jason’s fault, all yours for falling for a man who never loved you. The only thing he did was shatter your world completely and keep you from forming intimate relationships. And now you were permanently scarred, just like the mark against your wrist.

You’re a fucking piece of work, and nobody deserves that burden now.

Joel locks his fingers around the leather steering wheel, gripping so tight that his knuckles are painted white as concerned eyes flick to your fragile form in the passenger seat. His thoughts fly wild, his breath quick, his teeth bared as he thinks of what that fucker did to you.

He’ll drive down to the county jail this weekend, make sure Jason’s locked up tight, make sure he will never place another finger on your beautiful face. He fucking slapped you, knocked you down, and shed violent threats over your crouched body. He’s a dead man.

Joel ticks his jaw, snaps his teeth together as he thinks of the asshole that hurt you. He swears to god if Jason ever lays another hand on you, he will personally kill him himself. He’d snap his neck, would make sure the fucker was ten feet in the ground, would fucking destroy the man that assaulted you. He’d burn everything, if only that meant he could keep you safe. If only that meant you were his…

He rakes a hand heavily through his scruff, takes another long glance at you as you shake and whimper against the glass window, folding yourself into the smallest shape you can possibly get yourself in. And it fucking hurts him to see you like this, all fragile and broken and bleeding. He wants to take all the pain away, but he doesn’t know how, doesn’t exactly know what you need, but he’ll be gentle, delicate, whatever you need. He would be that for you. He’d be anything you needed him to be.

He gently drops a hand from the steering wheel, reaching out until he stops himself when he sees the jagged scar on your left wrist. How had he never seen it before, how had he not noticed? How was this the first time he’s looked at it?

God, he’s such a fool, a fucking asshole. The way he iced you out, the way he didn’t reply to your texts, the way he fucking flirted with a woman tonight when he damn well knew all he wanted was you. How could he be so reckless with your feelings? He fucking knew better, and look where that ended.

He should’ve figured out the signs sooner. The way you always widened your eyes and turned your head before he could sink his lips down on yours, the way you were so hesitant and careful about everything you did with him. Why didn’t he just stop after that stupid question in the diner, when he asked you what exactly the two of you were doing? He should’ve fucking known the way you tried to change the subject, the way you lost all form of words, your breathy stutters. He should’ve fucking saw your wrist and knew someone had hurt you. But he didn’t, and now he was the biggest asshole for falling silent and leaving you thinking he didn’t want you. And he fucking hates himself for that. Because he wanted you the entire goddamn time.

God. He’s wanted you from the first moment he saw you in his club, sitting there all doe-eyed and looking up at him as your smile took his breath away.

He’s such a goddamn fool, and he just wishes he could take it all back and start over. He’d be so careful with you, and now you’re sitting there scattered in broken pieces of glass, but he’ll try to put you back together the best he can. He has to try, he just has to because you’re all he really wants anymore.

You’re a living, breathing angel, and he’ll set himself on fire if that’s what it takes to win you back.

The truck stops in a dark driveway, one that’s lit with dim lights glowing against a tan garage. You don’t look up, not even when the hum of the engine cuts off and Joel frantically slams his door closed and practically sprints to the passenger side.

When he opens it he hesitates a second, assessing your tear-soaked face as you turn away from him. You don’t want him to see you like this, but it’s too late. So why are you shying away from him?

He carefully unbuckles you and gently lifts you up, cradling you against his firm chest as you sink against it, inhaling his fresh soap smell, the pine scent dripping off his silvery scruff. You smell it then: the scent of safety, of your knight in shining armor.

Joel carries you into the house, taking you up the creaking stairs and what you assume to be up to his bedroom. You don’t lift your eyes, only squeezing them shut so you can forget the aftermath of showing up to the club. You try to block out the blonde woman, Jason, the fight with Joel, the absolute monstrosity of the events that led you here to Joel’s house. You try to forget, but you can’t. You just can’t.

You hear a door swing open as you make it to the top of the stairs, his fast beating chest breathing rapidly as you cling to his warm flannel. You could stay curled up against his chest for hours, as long as you don’t have to open your eyes, as long as you can just breathe him and forget the rest of the world.

Those thoughts are short-lived when you feel the back of your thighs brushing against a soft comforter, and then he’s unlatching you from his flannel. You unwind your fingers and fall against the bed, allowing him to take a step back as the numbness seeps back inside you.

You tug at your dress, the room feeling both too overwhelmingly sweltering and also as cold as ice chilling down every single nerve in your body. You just need to get out of this tight thing; the fabric is suffocating and squeezing you like Jason’s rough hands are still wrapped around your throbbing wrists.

You jump when you hear Joel sliding a drawer shut, your fingers still tugging against your itchy fabric. You want it off, need to get it off, but you can’t seem to make your hands or body work.

As if Joel senses you struggling against yourself, you see him carefully walking over to you in your periphery, his polished boots scuffing against the dark grey carpet as you take a deep breath to calm yourself.

Your fingers fidget against the tainted material, and you just want it off now. He slowly, ever so delicately stills your hand, his palm flattening over the top of yours as he whispers quietly. “Here, let me help you out there, sweetheart. ‘S alright, easy now.”

He slowly tugs your zipper down, ever so slowly pulling the summer dress off your body, and then unclasping the buckle of your heels as he frees them from your aching feet.

He gently helps you lift your arms as a long dark blue t-shirt envelops your body, the soft material hitting just below your knees as it clouds you in whiffs of summer breeze and Joel all together. It makes you feel safe, like he’s surrounding you in just him. And it feels so damn good.

He grunts as he lifts himself off the floor, and then he treads into his bathroom, throwing the bright light on as water starts to pour from his sink.

Drip, drip, drip. The sounds the water makes as it crashes into the sink makes your heart slow, makes you think about the entire night, makes you cringe as Jason’s face comes into view. You see red eyes, hear slurring curses, feel the glass cutting straight through your fragile skin.

You grab hold of your wrist, embedding your nails into the skin as you wince at the memory. No more, not tonight. You can’t bear to think of it, so you block it out as the numb feeling tingles down your spine and surrounds every single bone in your body. You shut your eyes tight and count to ten in your head, hoping the voices will go away, but they never do. They’re just… ghosts.

A few seconds later you hear Joel pad back into the room, his footsteps so slow as he takes step after step until the floor stops creaking. You open your eyes and find him kneeling in front of you, his eyes so lathered with concern that it makes his chocolate irises lighten just a little, and it makes your heart skip in your chest.

He looks at you like you’re so broken, fragile, but you are. He hesitates as his right hand flexes up with a tan soaked washcloth in his grip, like he’s afraid to touch you, like you’re made of glass.

“Is this okay? Can I…” His gravelly voice fades off, and his brows knit together as he studies your somber features slowly.

Permission? He’s asking for permission to touch you? Of course he is. After tonight he figures you don’t want to be touched, and he’s right. You don’t. But Joel, you’ll allow him the honor.

He slowly reaches his arm up, brushing a strand of hair delicately behind your ear, and then he brings the cool washcloth up and runs it over your stinging cheek. You wince a little at the pain, but you quickly lean into the cold material and let it soak your heated skin.

He’s so careful with you, brown eyes flicking every few seconds to assess your face, making sure you’re okay, making sure you won’t just slip like sand into the cracks of the floor. That’s what you would be doing, if it wasn’t for Joel taking care of you.

You didn’t ask him to do this, didn’t imagine this being your weekend night with eyeliner running down your face or your eyes swollen and red. You probably look like a giant mess, but isn’t that what you are?

You flick your gaze up to his and spot the colorful bruise that flashes deep purple and crimson on the side of his left cheek, the exact same place as yours, and it makes your heart drop in your chest.

Guilt spirals through your head, your chest, and then drops to your stomach. This is all your fault. Joel is hurt because of you. He wouldn’t have swollen knuckles and discolored bruises on his fingers and cheek if it wasn’t for you.

Your vision starts to blur, your fingers twisting into the soft sheets, and your body starts humming with vibrations as you begin to shake.

Your fault, your fault, your fault.

Joel’s eyes widen, and his free hand lands on your thigh as he looks at you as if you’ll shatter into a million pieces. “Hey, hey, hey. What’s the matter? Did I hurt you?” he asks as his mouth twitches into a hard line.

You shake your head and whimper out, “No, you didn’t. I’m just…” You freeze up and almost lose your words. “You got hurt. You’re hurt because of me. This is all my fault,” you whine as another tear escapes your eye.

“No, sweetheart. Not at all,” he murmurs as he reaches up and brushes a tear away from your cheek before it can fall to the floor.

He cups your face with both hands, his calloused fingers feeling like warmth, and then he gazes at you with so much intent and sorrow in his eyes that they start to glisten. “Don’t you dare for one second think any of this is your fault. None of it is, you didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.”

Your eyes fill with tears as they start to spill over, your body trembling as you finally release it all out of your system. “Then why does it feel like it is?” you cry out, the room temperature dropping fifteen degrees as you shake with guilt and hurt.

“Oh, sweetheart. No. C’mere.” He throws off his boots and scoops you up, landing in the soft sheets as he cradles you to his chest while he pulls the dark blue comforter over your shaking body. “‘S’okay, babygirl. I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” he coos, folding his broad arms over your back as he takes one hand and gently runs it down the back of your scalp, soothing you of everything you’ve held pent up inside that you never got the courage to let slip out.

“Joel, the reason I didn’t tell you…”

“Shhh. Not now, sweetheart. You can tell me in the mornin’. Right now I jus’ want you to relax, breathe, sleep. Jus’ focus on deep breaths. I’ve got you, sweetheart. Nobody’s gonna hurt you anymore. I’ve got you, sweet girl. I’ve got you,” he soothes as his thick fingers stroke tenderly through your hair, easing you of the tension that you hold in your shoulders.

“But I… he… you…” You just can’t make sense of your jumbled words.

“Easy now. Easy,” he whispers, pulling you closer into him so you can nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck where it’s warm and safe and smells like the middle of an autumn’s day.

You breathe him in, grasping on to his woodsy scent, sinking as deep as you can go against his broad chest, fingers curling possessively against his white undershirt, steadying your breaths to the slow rhythm of his heart, reaching for him and only him as your panicked mind starts to ease into calm waters, Joel the anchor that keeps you from drowning.

You keep latched tight to him as you start to let your body get dragged into darkness where no one can hurt you, where only Joel keeps you floating into a deep, serene place where your body stills, your galloping heart starting to slow to quiet footsteps as you hear the deep sighs slip from his lips, letting it lull you to sleep as he holds you tighter.

The last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is the sound of his deep, gravelly Southern drawl where you feel most relaxed at. “You’re safe with me, angel. Always.” And then you slip into a dreamless, peaceful sleep.

The fan blows overhead, his head resting up against the headboard as he stares at your sleeping form that clings to his white t-shirt. His hand repeatedly strokes your soft locks, as if the motion will make the panic ease from your mind, as if he can make you feel safe, where no one else can touch your delicate form again.

He brushes his lips against your forehead, caressing them over every perfect line that makes up your gorgeous face, needing to give you everything he can. He thinks you’re so perfect, the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, and now all he wants to do is take care of you, the way you should’ve been taking care of long ago.

He slips a hand under the material of his t-shirt that splays over your body, carefully dragging his fingernails over your lower back in slow, meticulous circles as he soothes you from the panic.

“Nobody’s ever gonna make you feel unwanted again, baby. He’s never gonna hurt you again, will never lay his eyes on you because I’ll keep you safe. You’re so perfect, so beautiful, jus’ like the rarest flower in the world. That’s what you are. Rare, my love. You’re so rare,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, dragging his lips over your soft skin as he closes his eyes and breaths in the lilac perfume that envelops your very being.

You stir beneath him, nuzzling closer as you groan and curl your fingers against his neck, getting as close as you possibly can. He almost thinks you’re awake, but your deep breaths and fluttering eyelashes say you’re in a deep sleep, somewhere far away.

He hugs you closer and rests his chin on your head, fingers scraping softly against your soft skin, exactly how you like it. He’s always wanted to keep you safe, but now it’s his mission, like his life depends on it. He’ll spend his entire life convincing you if he has to. You’re his now, and he’s never going to let you go.

He lets his eyelids shut as the fan hums him to sleep, keeping his arms wrapped safely around you, his lips pressing once more to your forehead as sleep drags him under. And for once in his life, he sleeps the rest of the night because you are safe in his arms.

You wake to the chirping of singing birds as the sun shines brightly through the sheer curtains, your eyes slowly peeling open as you feel deep, slow breaths underneath you. You quietly stir, groaning as you tug his t-shirt against your fingers, suddenly very aware you stayed the night at Joel’s in his bed, in his arms.

You feel Joel readjust beneath you, lifting your chin as you’re met with the most beautiful sleepy brown eyes you’ve ever seen. And the drawl of his sleep-ridden gravelly voice doesn’t make it any better. “Mornin’, sunshine. You sleep okay?” He curls a lock of hair behind your ear and lingers his calloused palm on your skin, making you warmer than you were before.

“Mmm, I did,” you smile sleepily as he chuckles, making his brown eyes crinkle as the crow’s feet pull at the corners of his eyes. God, he’s always so handsome, especially in the morning, fresh from a long night’s rest with tousled bedhead curls that you want to run your fingers through.

“Good, that’s good,” he murmurs, a crooked smile curling over his lips as you seem to get lost in his beautiful face.

You almost nestle back into the crook of his neck, but when you look over you realize it’s a quarter past 10:00. Your eyes go wide and you jump up, realizing you’re probably messing up his entire day. “Shit, Joel. I didn’t know it was so late. I’m sorry, you should’ve woke me up earlier.”

You’re nearly frantic, but he places a palm softly on your face and turns you to look straight into his sleepy eyes. “‘S alright, angel. Jus’ calm down. I took the day off. Tommy’s got me covered, don’t you worry.”

“Oh.” You look at him with wide eyes while his thick fingers trail down your jawline like velvet.

“Wasn’t gonna jus’ leave you alone after last night. Needed to make sure you were alright. Figured I needed to take care of you.”

Oh. Take care of you? No one has ever… done that. Taken care of you before. And yet again, he leaves you completely speechless. “To… take care of me?” Your voice is barely a whisper as you stare up into gorgeous flecks of chocolate eyes.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he smiles, a hand slowly smoothing down your messy locks as he comforts you.

All you can muster up is a pathetic thank you as you nestle back into the scruff of his neck, hitching your leg around his hip as you hold tight to his broad chest. His fingers trail soothingly up and down your back, his nail beds scratching softly along your exposed skin as he soothes your growing panic.

After a few minutes of cuddling, he shifts his weight and drags his lips across the shell of your ear. “You wanna take a bath?” You nod your head and allow him to unravel you from his comforting hold. “Alright then, c’mon.”

He carries you into the bathroom, flipping the light on as he goes. He carefully sits you down on top of the ceramic countertop, dropping his thick fingers from your sides so he can start the water in the tub.

The faucet squeaks and turns, shooting out warm water. You lean against the mirror and close your eyes for just a second, letting the hum of the water calm your stirring tides, letting the sounds of Joel brushing past you soothe you as he sets out some clean towels from the polished cabinet.

You start to drift off again, trying to forget the horrors of last night. You start to slip into darkness, but Joel pulls you right back out as you start to fade to black. “You ready?” he asks, standing right in front of you with his thighs meeting your knees, one hand softly grazing along the jawline of your face.

“Yeah,” you mutter out pathetically, and then he lifts you off the counter and sets you on flat ground.

“C’mere, pretty girl. Let’s get you out of this.” He cautiously lifts the hem of his shirt and carefully drags it over your head. You place a hand steadily on his veiny forearm, slipping out of your panties until you’re completely bare and shivering like you’ve just walked out into a snowy blizzard.

He quickly throws his t-shirt off, shedding himself of his jeans and boxers until he has nothing left covering himself. The bubbles fizz at the top of the tub as he cuts off the water, slipping his fingers through yours so he can help you in the tub.

“In you go, angel. There ya go,” he murmurs, letting the warmth lap against your skin as he settles behind you, pressing your back into his broad chest while his thick arms envelop you in comfort.

You close your eyes, press your fingertips into his hot skin, and soak in the smell of his rich mahogany scent that always seems to calm you down. You shut out the violent events of last night, only thinking about how Joel swept you up in his arms and took care of you, making sure you were safe and heard, promising you that you were safe. And you were safe, you’re always safe in his strong arms, arms that claim you as his now, hopefully.

“Easy now, you’re alright,” he hums in the shell of your ear, caressing his lips against your jawline, slowly taking the soft washcloth over your arms as he bathes you in lavender soap. You lean into his broad body, groaning each time he glides the washcloth over your delicate skin, drowning in the attention and care he’s giving you.

He didn’t run, he stayed.

He picks you up gently and cradles you over his lap, your legs splayed over his thighs while your face nuzzles cozily into the crook of his neck, his calloused fingertips gently skating down the edge of your jawline. You relax every muscle in your body because you feel safe; Joel makes you feel safe.

He trails his hand down your forearm and pauses at the dip in your wrist, where the scar is visible. His fingertips feel like fire as they hover over the marked area that still feels fresh from years ago.

“You wanna talk ‘bout it?” he asks shakily, like you’ll break if he’s too loud or if he presses too hard on the scarred skin. You jump when he touches your wrist, and he quickly releases from that spot like he just burnt you more.

“I…” There you go choking again. When will you ever learn?

“You don’t have to talk ‘bout anything you’re not comfortable with, sweetheart. Jus’… I wanna know what happened to you because I want to understand you, want to make sure I don’t set off any triggers. I jus’ wanna know how to make you feel safe, babygirl.”

Babygirl. There’s that word again. The one that makes you think you’re finally his.

You flick your gaze up to him, staring into concerned brown eyes that draw you in like a moth to a flame. He always did know how to calm you down with just those soft, syrupy eyes. You look down and trace your index finger along the damp, wiry hairs along his chest, and then you take a deep breath.

Here goes nothing.

“No, I… I want to tell you everything. So let me try.” You take a shaky breath and breathe out slowly, numbing your body enough to where the adrenaline isn’t filling your lungs, and then you lay it all out like you should’ve long ago. “I went through a lot in my past, Joel. With Jason. He was… he wasn’t always terrible. At least not in the beginning. He picked up drinking after he was in the service. He wasn’t always home, but when he took an early retirement from the military and came back he was a horrible alcoholic. I mean, drowning a whole six pack or more a day. And it just got worse and worse. And he… he…”

You have to take a breath and close your eyes for just a second, focusing on not falling apart as you feel hot tears well in your eyes at thinking back to the past you so desperately want to forget.

Joel puts a comforting hand on your lower back, giving you that nudge you need to continue your story. “He got really mean, especially when he was drunk. And I wanted to get out so bad, but he’d just suck me right back in. Promising he’d change, that he’d do better, but he never did. He never even tried. And then I tried to leave one night because he had me so terrified that I packed a bag and ran, but he got me before I was able to make it out the door. And he… he threatened me. Had me pressed up to the door with his hand wrapped around my throat. And he… he told me if I ever left he’d find me. So I felt trapped, and I couldn’t even talk about it to anyone because I was so fucking scared that he’d come after them, too.”

Joel’s eyes are wide, and his nostrils are flared, his hand drawing slow circles across your back in a soothing motion. You can see he’s fighting to keep his mouth shut, and he nods for you to continue.

“And then one night, Jason got really drunk. It was a rainy night, and I was cooking him dinner. There was something he didn’t like or something about how I was out too late the night before. I can’t exactly remember, but he was so fucking angry. His eyes were bloodshot red, and he was screaming for me to get him another beer. And I just remember thinking he was going to do something terrible to me. He was… abusive and manipulative… and he was so damn good at talking me down. I still… sometimes I still have nightmares.”

Joel’s fingers curl against your skin, and he presses you tighter against his chest, like he’s trying to soften the blow for you. He’s so good.

“But when I handed him the beer, he slapped my face hard and he broke the bottle on the coffee table, even smashed his dinner plate and sent the coffee table across the room. There was so much glass and noise and chaos… and I remember… I remember he pinned me down against the carpet and started lashing out at me, like I was the problem, like I was the reason he was so angry. And I tried to push him away, tried to scream for help, but he took the edge of the broken bottle and slashed my wrist open… he tried to kill me…”

The bathroom goes completely silent as Joel stares at you with a hint of terror flashing through his eyes. You feel the hot pricks of teardrops cascade down your cheeks, and then you’re a blubbering mess again. “I remember the sirens, the police, how I blacked out and woke up in the hospital. And I was alone, didn’t even remember what happened. All I knew was that I was in a strange place with IVs hooked to my arms, and I could barely see straight because I lost so much blood. And I… I was… I was so scared, Joel. They said… they said I was almost dead. If they would’ve gotten there two minutes later I wouldn’t be sitting here telling you this…”

Joel wraps his arms firmly around you, cupping the back of your head with a strong hand as he sends a wave of comfort around you, holding you while you cry your heart out and lay out everything just so he knows why you’re so messed up and broken.

“Oh, babygirl. I’m so, so sorry you had to go through that. That’s… my god, that’s traumatizing.” You wrap your arms around his thick back, burrowing your face into his warm chest as you soak up his warmth.

“And he… he always said how nobody else could love me, that I was worthless, that I was nothing. And that’s why… that’s why I am the way I am. Because of him.” Your voice cracks as more tears roll down your face.

Joel tips your chin up and rubs the tip of his thumb under your eyes, catching big tears as he brushes them away. “Oh, no no no, sweetheart. Don’t you believe him for one minute. You’re so beautiful and you’re strong and you’re worthy of love. Don’t think for one second on it, darlin’ girl. You’re worth it all.”

You’re worth it all. The words make your eyes glassy as you stare wondrously at the man that saved you from it all. “Thank you for… for making me feel safe,” you whisper against his chest.

“Always,” he murmurs as his thick fingers run through your hair calmly. “Thank you for trustin’ me with that information, angel,” he whispers against your ear. “You’re such a brave girl, you know that?” He gently presses his lips to the top of your head, and you sink deeper against his warm, welcoming chest. “The bravest girl I know.”

You’re such a brave girl. The words make you choke back a sob. “You really think so?”

“Mhm. I do, angel. I do.” His voice is so warm, almost like a brassy baritone sound that glides through your ears, like you could listen to it for forever.

You melt into his firm chest, eyes glistening up at him as you swallow your tongue and force more explanations out that he probably doesn’t need. “It’s sometimes hard for me to ask for what I need. After so long of that, I kinda lost my voice on things that matter to me,” you mumble shyly as if he’ll draw back from you, but he only pulls you closer.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I can be patient,” he coos into the shell of your ear, sending a wave of relief down your body.

“That’s why at the diner I couldn’t… I froze up when you asked me what I wanted. And I… God, I knew what I wanted. I just couldn’t say the words,” you stutter out, jumbling the words as they seem to blur all together.

“Hey, s’alright, angel. I should’ve… fuck. I should’ve been better. The way I acted after the diner. I jus’ can’t tell you how sorry I am, sweetheart. I know I hurt you by what I did. I jus’ wasn’t thinking, and I should’ve picked up on the signs the first night I met you. The way… you were so hesitant, and each time I even got close to your lips… Shit, I’m jus’ real sorry, darlin’. There’s not enough apologies that I could give to make it up to you.” He sighs and drags a large hand through his tousled curls, letting another sigh of frustration catch in his throat. “I’m sorry for leavin’ you on read for two weeks. I jus’… I was a wreck myself, but that’s a sorry excuse for bein’ an asshole, and right now I don’t even deserve redemption after the trouble I caused.”

You shake your head as if he shouldn’t be apologizing at all. “No, Joel. It’s okay. I should’ve just… I should’ve been better by now. About my feelings, about asking for what I need. I tried to bury my past, but all it did was eat me alive.”

He cups your chin and lifts your face to where your eyes meet his, and he looks so soft and sincere. You think you could just drown in those syrupy eyes filled with warmth. “Hey, don’t do that. Don’t apologize. Not after what you’ve been through, my brave girl. Don’t even think about it for one second.”

My brave girl. The words send a splash of hope pulling through your veins at the word my, like maybe you are his.

“Joel, I…”

“Angel, s’alright. I’ll be whatever you need me to be, alright? Jus’ know that you’re so fuckin’ special, and I swear to god I’ll strangle myself before I ever hurt you again. And if someone even thinks of messin’ with you again, jus’ know I’ll kill ‘em with my bare hands. Because you are one of a kind, angel. Never met a girl like you before…”

“Joel…” You drag your fingertips across his greying scruff, your eyes glistening with longing and need, and then the word block comes up. You push and push, until you have nothing standing in your way anymore from telling him how you really feel. You take a deep breath and let the words fall off your tongue like you’re free falling, and somehow you know he’ll catch you. “I just… what I wanted to say back at the diner is that… I want you. God, I’ve wanted you for so long. And when you didn’t talk to me for almost two weeks… well… it was just… it was the worst thing ever, but I knew I messed up and probably deserved it and…”

He cuts you off, muttering a soft apology as he looks at you stunned for half a beat, his eyes raining with a look of longing and relief as he pulls you flush against his chest, letting the bubbles float around your entwined bodies. “Oh, sweetheart. No, you never messed up and you absolutely never deserved that. Listen to me very carefully. You have me. I’m all yours, sweet girl. I’ve been yours since that first night we met. And this is me askin’ for forgiveness, and I pray to god you’ll accept it because I don’t think I can see you walk out of this house unless it’s with me standing by your side.”

Your eyes go wide as you stare into gentle brown eyes, eyes that say they want you. “You… you still want me? Even after…”

He pushes back a piece of loose hair and grazes his knuckles softly down your jawline. “Angel, I’ve never stopped wanting you. And now, I want you even more.”

“You… want me…” you repeat in a hushed whisper, afraid that your ears are deceiving you. No one’s ever wanted you, so how could this perfect, gentle man want you?

“I want you every minute, every second, every breath of every day, sweetheart. I always want you. And if that asshole or any other fucker ever made you feel like you weren’t wanted then let me show you that that’s not true. Because I want you, angel. You’re worth everything, you beautiful, sweet girl. You’re worth it all.”

Your eyes blow wide as you feel a warm teardrop roll down your cheek. Joel brushes it away carefully with the pad of his thumb and lingers against your skin, making you feel warmth you’ve never felt in your life.

The bubbles splash around you with every shaky breath you take as your fingers graze his patchy beard, delicately tracing each strand of grey that threads through the dark hair, memorizing each fleck of onyx brown that glitters under the bathroom fluorescent lights. Your other hand pushes back a tousled curl off his tanned forehead, lingering your fingers in his messy hair like it’s your favorite shade of color that you want to lace your fingers through forever.

This man, this sentimental, extremely sweet hunk of a man is yours. He wants you, he really wants you. And for the first time in your life you know what it should feel like to be cared for, to be wanted, to be loved. At least it feels like love. The slow, sensual way he says your name, the longing gazes from his deep hazel eyes that make you blush like a silly girl with a school crush, the way he takes care of you, listens to you, the way he makes you feel safe like no one else has.

Safe. He makes you feel so safe, so seen, so loved. That’s it. Love. You love this man, and you really just want to fucking kiss him because he’s looking at you all doe-eyed and like you’re the only thing in the world that he wants to look at. And that’s it. You’re finished, smitten, done.

This is it.

It’s like the world stops spinning on its axis as you carefully lace your fingers through his curls, your other hand sliding along his chiseled jaw as you push yourself higher onto his lap and let your forehead connect with his.

He breathes in deep and hooks one arm around your lower back, his other hand skimming underneath your chin, letting the tip of his thumb graze along your lower lip. He lets it sit there, memorizing each crevice, every line that connects your smooth lips, and it’s like fire that tingles down your body, like no one has ever touched you before. Not like this, not like he’s mapping out every single trace of your soul, reaching in and stroking your heart like he’s putting together every broken piece of your shattered past.

“Do you know what my favorite thing about you is, angel?” He whispers with a deep, gravelly tone, shaking your very core as he continues to explore the lines of your lips.

“What?” Your voice is so scratchy that you almost don’t recognize it. You’re just very aware of how close his lips are, how intimate this moment is in the bathtub, on his lap while he tells you how much he wants you. And it’s so much, so very paralyzingly too intimate, but you don’t care. You don’t have the strength to deny him any longer when you want him just as badly as he wants you.

“How brave you are. You’re the bravest, strongest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. And the best part is how you wear your heart on your sleeve even after everything you’ve been through. And I’m so lucky to have had the honor of meeting the prettiest angel in the room the first night I met you. And I’m so happy that I can call you mine, pretty little angel. You’re mine.”

You lean into Joel’s broad body, threading your fingers through his hair, gasping at the beautiful words that fall off his tongue so easily, mesmerized by the incredible man that keeps you breathless with every word he speaks.

You breathe in his rich mahogany scent, clinging to every word that wraps around your mind. You brush his nose and feel the warmth that heats off his skin, his lips, his very essence that seems to crash into your own body. And it’s like every single sound in the world stops as your lips brush his, like this is what you’ve waited for your entire life, to kiss him.

The slight tug of his large hand that cups the back of your neck is all the motivation you need. You let your hand fall against his slacked jaw, and then your lips are on his.

Warm. His lips are so warm, soft, perfect. Like they were molded just for you. You lean into his chest and hum against his plush lips as you circle your arms around the back of his neck. It’s like earth stops and gravity isn’t real, even the bubbles in the bath seem to come to a standstill as the kiss permeates throughout the room like sparkling firecrackers filling the warm air.

You part your lips, allowing him to slot his tongue into your mouth, and then he’s surrounding you in complete warmth as you melt as his honey-like tongue explores your mouth slowly. The kiss is nothing like you’ve experienced before. It’s warm, slow, inviting, and it’s written with Joel all over it.

Joel doesn’t rush, only takes his time as he delves into your mouth, swallowing his cinnamon taste as you drown in the very essence of him. Your bodies move in unison, fingers threading against one another’s hair, hearts beating impossibly fast against each other’s chests, a slow staccato rhythm that lights hearts on fire. You’ve never experienced anything this romantic in your life.

The kiss eventually ends as his lips disconnect with yours, and all you want to do is get wrapped up in your favorite lips again, but your breathing is ragged and you need some air as the stifling feelings start to fill your chest.

Joel laces his fingers through your hair and looks down at you with the most beautiful shade of deep brown eyes you’ve ever seen in your life, and you swear he looks completely smitten with you, almost like he’s in love. “You’re tellin’ me I had to wait that long to kiss you?” He smiles, resting his forehead down on yours.

“Sorry,” you apologize with red cheeks.

“Don’t gotta be sorry, angel. That was one hell of a kiss. The best damn kiss I’ve ever had in my entire life,” he purrs, lightly stroking slow circles against your jawline.

You gently laugh as you curl a finger down his broad chest. “Still, sorry I made you wait so long.”

He shakes his head and smiles warmly. “I’d wait forever if I had to, angel. You’re worth it.”

Your lips part and your eyes glisten as you stare at the man who has your entire heart. And god, you want to tell him how irrevocably in love you are with him, and that’s exactly what you do. You just let it float through the bathroom, completely aware of every single thing that could go wrong, but you can’t hide your feelings for him anymore. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted, so you’ll have him. “Joel, I think… I think… I’m in love with you.”

His eyes soften into molten chocolate, and his smile is absolutely radiant as it curls over his plush lips. “And what would you say if I said I was in love with you, too?”

“What?” You freeze, thinking you heard that wrong. He loves you? Oh. Oh my…

“I love you, my sweet little angel. I’ve been in love with you since I saw you across the bar. I jus’ knew you were the one. They always say you know. Didn’t know what they meant until I saw you lookin’ over at me with those beautiful eyes of yours. I knew from that moment you’d be mine.”

Your mouth parts open as you suck in a breath, all your guarded walls and insecurities dropping on the spot as you play the words again and again in your head, until you can fully comprehend what he just said to you.

He’s in love with you. With you! You don’t know how, you don’t know why he did, but you just know you feel it as much as he does. And your skin is absolutely glowing as you grin mesmerizingly up at his brown starry eyes. “You really love me?”

“Oh, my little angel. Yes, I love you. You take the breath out of me.”

You map out every fleck of amber in his eyes, every crevice of pure syrupy colors that call your name like a magical siren, and then you’re falling, crashing into his lips until you can only breathe him. There’s no oxygen left, there’s only him and his cinnamon taste that drips off your tongue.

Your body molds to his, fingers lacing through messy curls, chest flush to his, climbing him like you can’t get close enough, can’t touch his tanned skin enough, can’t be satiated when his tongue is circling yours, marking his taste where you think you need him the most, so it can slip down and wrap around your heart, marking you as his own.

After a few minutes of heated tension and messy kisses, you untether from each other and just sit there in the warm, bubbly water, just breathing each other’s air like it’s the only oxygen you need. It’s just you and Joel, your own little safe space, a space he carved out just for you.

He turns you around and brings your back flush to his chest, wrapping a protective arm around your hips while his lips trace the top of your head until you can only close your eyes and breathe him in. Coffee, cinnamon, a fresh forest with chopped firewood. A warm fire, burning just for you.

After another half hour Joel helps you out of the tub, wrapping a soft cotton towel around your soaked body. He uses his large hands to help you dry off, taking slow strokes to your skin as the towel dries the water off your skin. He’s so gentle, careful, even delicate with every move he makes, every touch, every breath. He’s just… perfect.

“Here, you can wear some of my sweats. And I’ll get you a clean shirt.”

“Oh, okay,” you smile. He brushes his lips over your forehead softly before wrapping a towel around his waist and taking off to his closet, searching around for clothes that you get to wear.

You lean against the bathroom doorway and stare mesmerizingly at this beautiful man, watching him toss a long white t-shirt over his bare shoulder as his hands move hangers out of the way to find his sweats. You laugh at the way he tosses hangers to the side, muttering under his breath that he knows he put them right there. You tilt your head back against the bathroom door, assessing him while he works to find you just what you need.

Your eyes flit to the center of the room where a large mirror hangs and shades of soft cream fill the walls. You freeze when you see it, jaw dropping as you take in what sits on the edge of his mahogany dresser, right where the sunlight catches from the open window. There, right on the crevice of the dresser is a shiny hardcover Iron Flame book. “You bought Iron Flame?”

“Mhm,” he smiles, turning toward you with a fresh pair of grey sweats in his hand.

“But why? I thought…”

“I bought it because it was the closest thing I could get to havin’ you near me when all I wanted was you in my arms.”

You look at him wide-eyed, a small smile curling over your mouth as he comes and stands in front of you, trailing a hand slowly down your jawline. “Joel… you finished Fourth Wing?”

“Two days after the diner, that’s all I did was read. Finished it in one night because I could smell you on the pages. You smell like freshly printed books on a warm summer’s evening, and it had your scent all over those pages, angel.” His lips brush over yours, just long enough to breathe in his fresh cologne, and you feel as if you’re free falling in thin air, but Joel’s right at the bottom, ready to catch you before you collapse.

“Joel… I… I’m speechless. You read because it reminded you of me?” you whisper out.

“Mhm. That’s right, sweet girl. Jus’ for you.” His fingers lace with yours, lips caressing your knuckles as if he’s drinking you in.

“I… God, I love you.”

He lifts his eyes and smiles at you as he wraps his arms tightly around your waist. “I love you, too, my beautiful angel…”

Then his lips are on yours. Soft, gentle, magnetic, electric. And there you go, floating off into a fluffy cloud as his taste and touch send you into a euphoric trance.

“Are you hungry?” he asks as lets his hands slide from your waist.

“Mhm.”

“How ‘bout I cook you come breakfast? But, I have a condition.”

You raise your eyebrows and playfully smirk at him. “And what’s that?” you giggle.

“Read to me.” It’s not a question but an ask. He wants you to read to him.

“You want me to read to you?” Your eyes flick up to his, and those gentle brown eyes are searing into your soul.

“Yes. Wanna hear that beautiful voice of yours. Read me Iron Flame.”

You let the words simmer for a few seconds as he slips on a pair of casual jeans and a black t-shirt that clings to his broad chest, making the sculpted muscles flare against his strong build. And his messy curls are still wet and slicked back and so beautiful. This man is more than perfect, he’s yours. Just as you are his.

“Okay,” you smile, feeling your cheeks blush red as he sends a crooked, adorable smile your way.

God, you’re never going to get enough of this man.

After breakfast, you and Joel end up in his favorite leather recliner. He laces his arms around you and brings you flush against his broad chest, circling his hands with yours as you hold up Iron Flame and quietly read it together. His warm breath blows down the nape of your neck, and you lean into his space, letting the scent of coffee and pine cones envelop the air. You think this is how it always should’ve been, what you’ve been looking for your entire life. It’s Joel. It’s always been Joel. You just had to pave your way through the bad guys to find your knight in shining armor. The one you were always meant to fall in love with.

“I love you, pretty girl,” he whispers in the shell of your ear, holding you tighter like he never wants to let you go.

“And I love you too, Joel Miller.”

“Think these two are endgame?” He’s referring to Violet and Xaden in the book, but you really think he’s talking about you and him.

“Still got three books to go, but I see it like the ending is right in front of me. They’re so endgame.”

“Think you’re right, my sweet angel. I think they’re infinite, like you and me.” His lips brush against your forehead, and his fingers lace through yours as you let the next page fall away from your grasp.

“Infinite, huh?” you whisper.

“Infinite,” he confirms.

You tilt your head up and let your lips capture his, saying your feelings as you tug him closer and run your fingers through his thick curls, giggling as he cradles you in his arms and slots his tongue against yours, letting the coffee serenade you with the taste of Joel on your lips.

You think this is how it should always be, you and him. Right here in his recliner, reading books together, entwined fingers, lips on each other’s as if you both can’t get enough of one another.

You were always meant to find him. And he turned out to be your knight in shining armor. And maybe your forever.

This was just the beginning. You still had a lifetime to go.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #Joel miller #joel miller fic #protective joel #soft joel miller #no use of y/n #no outbreak!joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller the last of us #joel miller tlou #tlou fanfiction

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pupsmailbox · 4 months

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SLEEP ID PACK

NAMES ⌇　alice.　almo.　asteria.　asterie.　azlin.　bubble.　celeste.　celestelle.　cham.　chamomile.　cimon.　cloudie.　corvus.　célestine.　dormi.　dormio.　dre.　drea.　dream.　dreama.　dreda.　dreena.　drefan.　drem.　drema.　drena.　dreng.　dreogan.　drew.　drewry.　drewsila.　dreyken.　drowsielle.　dusk.　eirene.　endri.　hypnos.　hypo.　lorien.　lucette.　lucid.　lullaby.　lumi.　lumina.　luminette.　luna.　lunelle.　lylah.　mimi.　mirage.　moea.　morpheus.　niamh.　night.　noah.　nocturne.　nod.　nyx.　paisley.　reve.　reverie.　sabbatha.　sabriel.　sen.　shai.　shep/herd.　slumberette.　somnia.　somnus.　sora.　stella.　stelle.　vision.　zzz.

PRONOUNS ⌇　 bed/bed.　blank/blanket.　blanket/blanket.　blankie/blankie.　blear/bleary.　bleary/bleary.　cloud/cloud.　cra/crash.　doz/dozy.　doze/doze.　dozy/dozy.　dream/daydream.　dream/dream.　dream/dreamer.　dream/dreamscape.　dream/dreamy.　dreams/dream.　drift/drift.　dro/drowsy.　drow/drowsy.　drowsy/drowsy.　eep/eepy.　fatigue/fatigue.　haze/haze.　hush/hush.　illu/illusion.　kip/kip.　lu/lucid.　lucid/lucid.　mel/mel.　mellow/mellow.　moon/moon.　nap/nap.　night/nightmare.　nightmare/nightmare.　pillow/pillow.　plush/plush.　plush/plushie.　re/rem.　re/repose.　rest/rest.　sle/sleep.　Sleep/sleep.　sleep/sleep.　sleep/sleepy.　sleepy/sleepy.　slu/slumber.　sluggish/sluggish.　slum/slumber.　slumber/slumber.　snooze/snooze.　snore/snore.　somno/somno.　star/star.　tire/tired.　tired/tired.　tor/torpor.　torpid/torpid.　wink/wink.　yawn/yawn.　ze/zem.　zzz/zzz.　💤/💤.　😴/😴.　🛏️/🛏️.

#⭐️lists #id pack #npt #name suggestions #name ideas #name list #pronoun suggestions #pronoun ideas #pronoun list #neopronouns #nounself #emojiself #sleepcore #sleepycore #dreamcore

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bestlilithian · 3 months

Text

Random personal experiences w my placements and aspects

Neptune in 6th house

- random hallucinations throughout the day?? I go around wondering if the fly I hear buzzing around in my room is real or not cause Im prone to little hallucinations like that or in worse cases hearing footsteps and knocking

- so much daydreaming. id pay someone to make me stop because the thing is I dont even want to but its affecting me negatively

- almost constantly tempted to do something that could be considered an addictive behavior (for example Im a lil bored and suddenly a pack of cigarettes sounds yummy)

- anxiety 🫶 about the stupidest, tiniest things throughout the day. I dont stress before life changing finals and exams,,, I do however wonder if today is the day that I die in a car accident because I didnt feel like putting my seatbelt on in a usually empty area.

- randomly dissociating

Chiron in 6th

- every day is pain 😁

- beating myself up for not being productive and then not doing anything about it

- pathological demand avoidance

Gemini moon

- my brain cannot and will not relax ever

- reading. so much reading and processing except instead of reading Dostoyevsky its usually either reading up about my astro placements or indulging in an extremely long ao3 fic

- need to always be listening to or reading something. like yeah let me listen to someone analyze societal issues and contemplate life in a 1h video essay while I brush my teeth and make breakfast

- videos on 1.5x. Yall need to talk faster (I <3 ppl who talk fast naturally)

- vividly hearing other peoples voices in my head. 💀 not like theyre talking to *me*, just as if some people whose voices I recognize are having a convo and I hear it, except theyre *not there* and the convo doeent make sense . Its not a hallucination tho I can tell its in my mind but its still very weird and distracting esp when Im trying to sleep or concentrate

- ranting to my imaginary friend whos actually kinda conscious ngl might even be a tulpa at this point

#astrology #astro placements #horoscope #plutonian #lilith #astro observations #astro notes #neptune #gemini moon #6th house #chiron

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azuhrasims · 4 days

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Granny's Magic Delights

A Sims 4 Retail Store specializing in selling magic potions and gemstones - both raw and uncut! Enjoy multiple shelves of gemstones, metals, and potions for your occults and occult fan sims to use at their own disposal! If your after some freebies - show up in the morning and take the gems as thy grow on the gem trees right on the lot. Show up on a full moon and find some fully blooming Moonpetal flowers to pick as well.

The lot has no CC, has been play tested, and provided all kinds of entertainment while playing with Granny the Spellcaster.

*I have all of the packs and I did not limit what was used in this build.*

You can find this lot on the Gallery ID: Azealea , Granny's Magic Delights

Otherwise, the tray files are available for DL: Mediafire Granny's Magic Delights

@publicvanillabuilds

#Azuhra's Builds #Azuhra's Sims 4 builds #sims 4 builds #sims 4 retail build #ts4 builds #vanilla ts4 build #ts4 potion shop #ts4 occult retail store

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thoughtfullyrainynightmare · 1 year

Note

Hiii I LOVE YOUR WRITING💓💓

I'm a huge Yami simp and id like to request a fic where Yami is struggling to but trying his best to quit smoking cuz his s/o is pregnant? (Bonus: all the black bulls pitch in to help him quit)

Could you please make it Cute but funny too ?

Hiya! Thank you!!! ^^

Oh this was so fun to write, and I hope that you find it cute and funny!

Pairing: Yami Sukehiro x gn!reader (reader is afab) Ft. The Black Bulls Genre: fluff, comdey, slice of life Fanfic type: Oneshot Warnings: references to reader being pregnant, Yami says the "I'll kill you", canon compliant Length: ~0.8k

It had been a couple of weeks since you had told him that you were pregnant. And he had been absolutely over the moon.

At least after he had come down from the happy shock that he had been in, because he could barely have believed it. He could barely have comprehended all the emotions swirling in him, ranging from bliss, through happiness, to fear of being good enough of a father, since there was a small part of him that was terrified of him not being even a decent father since he had had no good role model of his own while growing up. Though someone could have argued that he had gotten a kind of practice with watching after the Bulls.

But that was different. It had been more like… being an uncle. Or just a father figure. But being a father figure wasn’t the same as being a father. So, he was worried.

He was worried about being good enough. For you and your child. Because he did want to be. He wanted to be a good father, and he’d be damned if he didn’t try to surpass his own limits in this too. Though there wasn’t really a limit there to begin with, rather than simply trying to be the very best version of himself that he could be.

Which didn’t stop his nerves from being stretched during those first few weeks, because of which he took a cigarette break whenever he could; consuming even more packs a day than before.

But the thing was: he didn’t want to make you inhale the smoke. Or the baby. Which is why he always needed to go outside, far enough from you, so that there’d be no damage.

And he hated having to step away from next to you. Granted that you were still as capable as you were before the pregnancy, since you were so early into it that even the baby bump wasn’t visible. There wasn’t pregnancy cravings or morning sickness just yet, let alone trouble walking or picking up things… Not that he wanted you to be doing any heavy lifting in the first place.

Still. He hated being away from you. And so frequently.

So. Something needed to be done. And that something was to quit smoking.

Going cold turkey would be difficult. But doable. And he figured that it’d be best to get out of the way quickly, so going cold turkey would be what he’d do.

However, to do that he’d need help. Which is why he called a meeting with the Bulls one morning.

“Listen up you buggers,” he said while standing there with his arms crossed. “Your next mission is to help me quit smoking. So, if any of you catch me with a cigarette, or a pack of them, your job is to take it from me.”

Magna raised up his hand. “Can we use anything to do it?”

“Yeah. And if you don’t, I’ll kill ya.”

“You’ll threaten to kill us if we don’t give them to you just as you’ll threaten to kill us if we fail to keep them from you,” Nero pointed out with a monotone voice from the corner.

“I’ll kill you harder if you give them to me.”

“So we get to fight you?” Luck’s eyes sparkled.

“Let’s help Captain Yami!” Asta cheered, being the one to, perhaps, be mots eager to do this, while the hesitance of others was mostly caused by fear of how …ferocious their Captain could be.

But. They would help of course. And they would have done so even if it hadn’t been assigned as a mission.

During the next few weeks, the only one who dared to approach Yami was you, because though his nerves were thin as a hair, you were the only one to whom he not as much as scoffed. Not as much as squinted his eyes.

While for the rest…

“HAND THEM OVER OR I SWEAR I’LL KILL YOU!!” Was heard from the distance.

The sound of an explosion.

“Luck! Catch!”

“HAHAHHAHAAA!”

“Rouge!”

“Captain Yami! Think about your health!”

“Seadragon’s Roar!”

“The basement will flood again…”

And meanwhile, you listened to the commotion, giggling to yourself. Because though it was difficult now, Yami would grow out of his smoking habit. You were certain of it. After all, you, and him, had the help of everyone. And after some time, the challenges would change to other kinds.

But you’d still do your best to enjoy the journey, which was quite easy in the grand scheme of things. Quite simply because you were happy, right there and then, with the life you lived.

#yami sukehiro x reader #black clover fanfiction #yami x reader #sukehiro yami #black clover oneshot #black clover x reader

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sacrifesse · 1 month

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┣▇▇▇═─ SPACE iD PACK 〰️

🌌 ︵︵ REQUESTED BY ANON ᶻ 𝗓

🌌 ︵︵ TAGGiNG @id-pack-archive ᶻ 𝗓

✙ ︵︵ SYSTEM NAMES : the shining stars (system) , the astronauts , the supernova system , the spaceship system , the cosmos (collective) , the comet collective , the constellation collective , the stardust system , the infinites , the aliens , the star gazers , the cosmic collective

✙ ︵︵ NAMES : nova¹ , celeste¹ , celestine¹ , luna , eclipse , stelle , stella , apollo , atlas , cosmo , orion , comet , aurora¹ , aries , phoebe , juno , esther , juliet , cyra¹ , jupiter , mars , miranda , neptune , star² , sky , sol

¹ names that certain alters of the darling stars use

² names we go by as a collective

✙ ︵︵ PRONOUNS : galaxy galaxys , star stars , astronaut astronauts , space spaces , ship ships , cosmos cosmos , comet comets , constellation constellations , stardust stardusts , alien aliens , universe universes , infinite infinites , moon moons , sun suns , planet planets , void voids , vast vasts , gravity gravitys , rocket rockets , satellite satellites , 🔭 🔭s , 🪐 🪐s , ☄️ ☄️s , 🛸 🛸s , 👽 👽s , 🛰️ 🛰️s , 🚀 🚀s , 👾 👾s , 🌌 🌌s , ✨ ✨s , ⭐️ ⭐️s , 🌟 🌟s , 💫 💫s , 🌠 🌠s

✙ ︵︵ USERNAMES : starryscars , starryeyed , luvlystars , spaceluvr , moonlitavenues , moonlitpath , starrybunnie , cryingcosmos

✙ ︵︵ TiTLES : the astronaut , the alien , prn who explores (the depths of) space , prn who is weightless , the weightless one , prn who peers through the telescope , the star gazer , prn who watches the stars

✙ ︵︵ LABELS : galactic system

✙ ︵︵ GENDER SYSTEMS : genderstar

✙ ︵︵ GENDERS : spacegender , stargender , fargalaxian , astroscenic , galaxyboba(gender) , spacefoxic , hauntspacian , galaxyflower , galaxyhacker , galaxystimgif , cosmiclatteic , galaxyabomination , innerplanetan , outerplanetan , titanmoonic , explodastrian , nephoastragender , galain , hexaturmic , enientic , noxventic , sueaumoc , noctichrine , canistellation , heavoid , beltzelestial , universpacic , multiverocus , spacecoric , lumicattic , lumipuppic , lumibunnic , moongender , galasterios , staric , nasagender , stargalactic , destria

[PT: space id pack. requested by anon. tagging id-pack-archive. system names. names. pronouns. usernames. titles. labels. gender systems. genders. /END PT]

#— ꒰ completed ꒱#id pack #snpt #nput #npt #system names #names #pronouns #usernames #users #titles #xenogender #xenogenders #space #galaxy #galaxies

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bonefall · 1 year

Text

Clanmew 101

A Warrior Cats Conlang

[ID: Two Warrior Cats OCs speak to each other. On the left is a calico with green eyes named Troutfur. On the right is a leucistic tabby with pink eyes named Bonefall.]

Urrmeer, Clanmates! And welcome to Clanmew 101!

By the end of this lesson you should have a basic understanding of the most important aspects of Clanmew, the language of the five Clans of cats living around Sanctuary Lake.

You will learn to introduce yourself, choose the appropriate pronoun for a situation, construct simple sentences, describe attributes and understand opening particles, express possession, ask simple questions, and use the Clans’ counting system. This should cover all the basics needed in order to have a simple Clanmew conversation.

Lastly, we'll close out with a vocabulary list, and some translation excercises you can do on your own!

This guide is a massive collaboration, written largely by @troutfur with all vocabulary made by @bonefall. This guide is also available in Google Doc format, and there is a lexicon of over 300 words in this Google Sheet.

We've been working on this for several weeks, and we're beyond excited to bring it to you today!

About Clanmew

Clanmew is a language that emphasizes ranks and relationships first and foremost. The rigid nature of Clan culture is baked into the very structure of their sentences, immediately making it clear what your relationship to a thing is, and where you’ve received information about a subject.

Unlike English, in Clanmew, every line is packed with information about a warrior’s relationships and feelings towards the cats around them, turning even quick exchanges into reaffirmations of where a warrior stands in Clan society.

- Introduce yourself; the lack of a personal pronoun

Two cleric apprentices are meeting each other at a half-moon meeting for the first time. Here’s how they would introduce themselves to each other:

Babenpwyr: Pyrrsmeer! Babenpwyr. Washa-ulnyams shompiagorrl. Pryyp pyrrs? [Noncombatant-you-hello! Bonepaw. Shadow-clan moon-learning-rank. Question noncombatant-you?]

Powshpwyr: Powshpwyr. Ssbass-ulnyams shompiagorrl. [Troutpaw. River-clan moon-learning-rank]

Translated to English we have:

Bonepaw: Hello! My name is Bonepaw! I’m a ShadowClan cleric apprentice. And you?

Troutpaw: My name’s Troutpaw. I’m a RiverClan cleric apprentice.

This is a very typical introduction in the Clans. Right away these two cats establish their relationship to each other, which Clan they’re from, and their rank within it.

If you examine the way Bonepaw and Troutpaw tell each other their names, it is immediately notable how they only say them. In Clanmew there is no "first person" pronoun, no word that means "I" or "me", and similarly there is no word for the verb "to be". It is understood that if you say a word by itself, those two parts are implied. Thus Babenpwyr is both Bonepaw’s name and a full sentence that means “I am Bonepaw”.

Similarly when Bonepaw says "Pryyp pyrrs?" There is no word for "are" or "is". "Pryyp" establishes the sentence as a question, and "pyrrs" simply means "you".

There are other nuances to the grammar to explore but first, let's skip forward a few seasons, after Troutpaw and Bonepaw change paths and meet once again under the light of the full moon.

Powshfaf: Babenpwyr, pyrrsmeer! [Bonepaw, noncombatant-you-hello!]

Babenfew: Nyar, rarrwang gryyr! Babenfew! [No, outsiderness I-contain! Bonefall!]

Powshfaf: Pryyp kachgorrl rarrs? Ssoen wowa rarrs shai ssarshemi! [Question, claw-rank outsider-you? On/over outsider-you stars they-shine!]

Translated we have:

Troutfur: Hi, Bonepaw!

Bonefall: No, use the rarrs pronoun with me. It's Bonefall.

Troutfur: Oh, you're a warrior? Congrats!

This too is a common interaction among Clan cats. No warrior ever misses a chance to boast about a newly granted name, especially to a friend who already has their own. Here we see another important feature of Clanmew grammar, the choice of pronoun. Clanmew pronouns have nothing to do with gender, but rather, how dangerous the subject is to you.

This is called…

- Threat Level How To Choose the Appropriate Pronoun

Using the pyrrs pronoun may be appropriate with a cleric, or an apprentice, or a close friend in your same Clan. But for an enemy warrior it’s inappropriate, or even rude, regardless of if they’re a friend or not. It may indicate you are underestimating them, or worse, that you two are traitorously close to each other.

Each pronoun in Clanmew has a third person ("he", "she", "they") form and a second person (“you”) form. The full list of pronouns and when to use them is given below, from least to most threatening.

(Them/You)

Wi/Wees The softest, weakest possible way to refer to a person. It is used exclusively for babies, aesthetically pleasing but useless objects, and food. “Mousebrain” is either Wiwoo (them-mouse) or Weeswoo (you-mouse).

Nya/Nyams This one indicates familiarity and closeness, moreso than with a Clanmate or a trusted ally. It is used for mates, platonic life partners, siblings, and so on. It’s sometimes used on objects that significantly change a cat’s life, such as Briarlight’s mobility device.

Pyrr/Pyrrs Used for apprentices, medicine cats, elders, exhausted warriors, and other non-combatants, but also for friends. It’s a neutral-weak pronoun. Used incorrectly, it can be patronizing, or over-familiar. This is also used on useful objects, like nests, herbs, Jayfeather’s stick, etc.

Urr/Urrs Indicates a capable clanmate, carries an implication that they are able to hunt or fight at the described moment. The term carries endearment– the old RiverClan river was referred to with Urrs, for respect. Strong, worthy prey is in this category; RiverClan refers to medium-sized fish with urrs, WindClan uses it for hares, etc.

Rarr/Rarrs Now we’re in the 'outsider’ category. These are not used on clanmates without insult. Used for things that require extra caution. A lot of twoleg things like fences and bridges are 'rarr’. The cats who live in the barn and other loners are 'rarr’. Warriors in other clans are 'rarr.’

Mwrr/Mwrrs Something dishonorable, that lives without code. Rogues are tossed into this category before proven otherwise, as are snakes, foxes, badgers, and dogs. This is a serious insult when used for a Clan cat.

Ssar/Ssas Something powerful and dangerous. Storms, floods, cars. Overwhelming and unpredictable, in a way where its power cannot be contained– can be a high compliment to the respected warriors of other clans, implies the same sort of respect you would give to a natural disaster. Commonly used on leaders of other Clans.

- Objects, Subjects, and Verbs Constructing a Simple Sentence

In English most sentences have three parts, someone who does an action (a subject), an action that is done (a verb), and something the action is done to (an object). By default English sentences order these three elements in the order, Subject-Verb-Object. But Clanmew orders them differently; Object-Subject-Verb.

Compare these sentences;

“The warriors hunt mice.” [Simple English statement]

“Mice the warriors hunt.” [Grammatical equivalent in Clanmew]

Translating this into Clanmew looks like this,

Pi woo kachgorrl urrakach. [Saw/heard mouse claw-rank clanmate-they-hunt.] Saw mouse warrior they-hunt. [Direct translation]

Let’s ignore that first word for now and just focus on the subject, object, and verb.

“Woo” in this context means “mouse” or “mice”. Clanmew makes no grammatical distinction between singular and plural, whether there is only one of the noun or more than one. Likewise, “kachgorrl” means “warrior” without specifying how many or which warrior(s) specifically. Finally “urrakach” is composed of a prefix “urr-”, the pronoun for a clanmate, and “akach” the present form of the verb that means “to hunt”.

A specific named subject can be omitted but a pronoun prefix can never be omitted in a Clanmew sentence. Even the absence of a prefix is considered a prefix itself, meaning “I” or “me”. Thus the speaker’s relationship towards the subject is always specified.

- Describing Attributes

When Bonefall corrected Troutfur's pronoun usage earlier he was using this Object/Subject/Verb (OSV) sentence structure; "Rarrwang gryyr" means "Use the rarrs pronoun with me," but is constructed as "Outsiderness (I)-contain". “Rarrwang” itself is constructed of the pronoun “rarr” and the suffix “wang” which indicates a noun embodying a certain quality.

This sentence construction with the verb “gryyr” and a noun with the “wang” suffix can also be used to describe someone or something with any other attribute. Let’s see the following examples:

Yaowang gryyr. [Female-quality I-contain.] "I’m a molly."

The word “yaow” is part of a set with “ssuf” (“male”), and “meewa” (“genderless”).

Pi morrwowang urrgryyr. [Seen/heard fast-quality they-clanmate-contain.] "She’s big."

"Morrwo" is part of a set with "Eeb" (small) and "Nyarra" (average).

Urr’rr boe gabpwang mwrrgryyr. [Whisker-felt strength-quality they-rogue-contain.] "She’s very strong."

Now, let’s see how you can describe someone with more than one attribute!

Bab boe gabpwang om boe morrwowang rarrgryrr. [Heard-say very strong-quality and very big-quality outsider-they-contain.] "She is very strong and very big."

Bab boe gabp-om-morrwowang rarrgryrr. [Heard-say very strong-and-big-quality outsider-they-contain.] "She is very strong and very big."

These two sentences may look completely equivalent, but the constructions used here actually convey two different shades of meaning.

In the first sentence, the qualities of strength and bigness are understood to not be related to each other. The size is unrelated to her strength. Perhaps she’s big as in fluffy rather than physically imposing! The second construction indicates very much the opposite, that the bigness and strength are related attributes.

Now you may notice by this point that there’s a little word at the beginning of most sentences. It is called an…

- Opening Particle

Opening particles are used to indicate many things such as where the information conveyed is coming from, that the sentence is a question or command, or even that the sentence is a hypothetical being posited.

In statements that denote facts, there are 5 such particles, indicating the way by which this knowledge was acquired. They are:

Bab Used for information the speaker does not have first-hand knowledge of. Anything that someone has heard from someone else such as news, gossip, or a report falls into this category. Information in this category is considered the least reliable of all categories.

Yass Used for information acquired through the smell, taste, or the use of Jacobson’s organ. Metaphorically, it has also been extended to things one believes or thinks, and logical deductions. In its metaphorical capacity it is considered second least reliable.

Urr’rr Used for information acquired through one’s whiskers. Metaphorically, it also extends to emotions, intuition, and other such feelings. Considered the second most reliable source of information when used as such.

Pi Used for information one has seen or heard directly. Considered the most reliable form of information in most situations. When it comes to information acquired through multiple sources, if visual or auditory sensations are included “pi” will almost always be preferred.

Ssoen Used by StarClan it indicates information they have access to by virtue of their alleged omniscience. Used by a regular Clan cat it is used to quote the words of a prophecy or to give one’s words the same weight as StarClan’s. In this second usage, it is most often used to give blessings, such as the phrase Troutfur used to congratulate Bonefall.

The lack of a particle can in a way be thought of as a particle in itself too! This indicates that some piece of information is self-evident to the speaker. Examples of when it is appropriate to omit sentence-starting particles have been explored before: introducing oneself, correcting pronoun usage, stating one’s gender, all concerning the self.

Let’s see some examples in practice!

Bab mwrrworrwang Raorgabrrl mwrrgryyr. [Heard-say murder-quality Lionblaze he-rogue-contains.] "I’ve heard that Lionblaze is a murderous rogue."

Yass woo nyyrwang mwrrgryyr. [Smelled/tasted mouse rotten-quality they-rogue-contain.] "I have smelled/tasted that the mouse is rotting."

Urr’rr rrarpabrpabrpabr. [Whisker-felt he-outsider-pummeled.] "He pummeled (me), I felt with my whiskers."

Pi powsh pabparra Ssbass-ulnyams rarrakachka. [Saw/heard trout patrol-amount RiverClan they-outsider-hunted.] "I saw a RiverClan patrol catching trout."

Ssoen ulnyams kafyar-ul ssarshefpa. [Prophetic clan wild-fire-only they-natural-force-will-rescue.] "Fire alone will save the Clans."

There are 3 other important particles to introduce; Karrl, Hassayyr, and Pryyp

“Karrl” indicates that a statement is a command.

Bonfaf, karrl piagorrl urrsshaiwo. [Stonefur, command learning-rank you-clanmate-star-will-kill.] "Stonefur, execute the apprentices."

“Hassayyr” indicates that a statement is a “what if”.

Hassayyr om pyrrs papp. [What-if with you-noncombatant (I-)will-walk.] "What if we went for a walk?"

“Pryyp” indicates that a statement is a question.

Pryyp mew wissuff? [Question kitten they-harmless-suckle?] "Are the kittens suckling?"

We will talk more about “pryyp” and asking questions a bit later, but first we’ve got to discuss…

- Possession

The simplest and easiest way to say that a person is in possession of something is to use their name as a pronoun like so;

Pi woomoerr'pbum Yywayashaiwrah [Seen/heard food-hole-bread Harestar-owns.] "I see the tunnelbun that Harestar owns."

This is only possible for simple statements, and is possible because 'wrah' is a rare, irregular single-stem verb. But more of that will come in another lesson!

There are more common ways to phrase possession. Compare the following two sentences:

Pi woomoerr’pbum Yywayashai urrwrah. [Seen/heard food-hole-bread Harestar he-owns.] "I see that my clanmate Harestar has a tunnelbun."

Pi Yywayashai urrwrah woomoerr’pbm Hrra’aborrl urrnomna. [Seen/heard Harestar he-owns food-hole-bread Breezepelt he-eats.] "I see that my clanmate Breezepelt is eating my Clanmate Harestar’s tunnelbun."

In the second sentence, the phrase “Harestar’s tunnelbun” is constructed with the same words of the sentence “Harestar has a tunnelbun”, however, the opening particle is dropped and not repeated. The difference is that the object (“woomoerr’pbum”) has been moved to the end.

Thus the phrase “Yywayashai urrwrah” (“Harestar he-owns”) can be understood in this situation to be an adjective that modifies “tunnelbun” in the second sentence. This construction is not limited only to statements about possession, but this is the most common case in which it is used.

You can make possession even clearer with the connecting particle, "en." For example,

Pi Yywayashai-en-woomoerr’pbum Hrra’aborrl urrnomna. [Seen/heard Harestar-’s-tunnelbun Breezepelt he-eats.] "I see that my clanmate Breezepelt is eating the tunnelbun-of-Harestar."

All of these phrasings are perfectly grammatical. The use of a shorter, more explicit construction is a function of style and clarity. It is similar to how the idea could in English be expressed equally with the phrasings “Harestar’s tunnelbun”or “the tunnelbun of Harestar”.

Next, we will learn to ask simple questions.

- Simple Questions

“Pryyp” is a very useful particle! In front of a simple statement, it makes it into a yes-no question. For example:

Pryyp Yywayashai woomoerr’pbum urrwrah? [Question Harestar food-hole-bread he-has?] "Does Harestar have a Tunnelbun?"

To answer you have a couple options. You could restate the verb along with an opening particle to specify how you know:

Pi urrwrah. [Seen/heard he-has.] "He does, I’ve seen."

But what if he doesn't have one? You can negate the verb with the prefix “nyar”! Make sure to place in front of the verb but after the pronoun:

Pi urrnyarwrah. [Seen/heard he-not-have.] "He does not, I’ve seen."

Or you could respond with your opening particle, and a simple yes or no:

Pi mwyr/nyar. [Seen/heard yes/no.] "Yes/no, I saw."

But it isn’t the only type of question you can ask with Clanmew. In conjunction with a question word in the appropriate place, you can ask more open ended questions. Let’s see an example conversation from WindClan camp:

Hrra’aborrl: Pryyp woomoerr’pbum yar urrwrah? [Breezepelt: Question food-hole-rabbit who they-have?] Yywayashai: Pi Ipipfbafba pyrrswrah. [Harestar: Seen/heard Kestrelflight he-has.]

In English,

Breezepelt: "Who has the tunnelbun?" Harestar: "I saw Kestrelflight has it."

In this construction we see some interesting aspects of the grammar. The pronoun “yar” (“who”) replaces the subject in the first sentence, but the verb is still conjugated with “urr”.

This shows that Breezepelt assumes that the answer to his question is going to be a battle-capable clanmate. When Harestar answers though, he uses the “pyrrs” pronoun, as is appropriate when talking about a cleric such as Kestrelflight. Because of how the grammar works, Breezepelt is forced to make an assumption as to what his answer would be and Harestar automatically corrects it.

Harestar could have also answered:

Yywayashai: Pi pyrrswrah. [Harestar: Seen/heard he-has.]

Which is roughly translated to:

Harestar: "He has it."

With this answer Harestar is assuming Breezepelt will be able to figure out which noncombatant has it... but remember; clerics, apprentices, elders, and even close friends of the speaker are all encompassed by “pyrrs”. It may not be as clear as Harestar thinks it is!

To ask a multiple-choice question using “pryyp”, you could do it like this:

Wishwash: Pryyp woomoerr’pbum wragyr nyom Yywayashai nyom Ipipfbafba mwrrwrah? [Heathertail: Question food-hole-bread boar or Harestar or Kestrelflight they-rogue-have?] Hrra’aborrl: Pi (wragyr) mwrrwrah [Breezepelt: Seen/heard (boar) they-rogue-has.]

Which would translate to:

Heathertail: Who has the tunnelbun, a boar, Harestar, or Kestrelflight? Breezepelt: "I saw the boar has it."

Without “pryyp”, Heathertail’s question would be understood as a statement. “Either the boar, Harestar, or Kestrelflight has the tunnelbun.” But by starting the sentence with the appropriate particle she was able to convey it was a multiple choice question.

Breezepelt can also choose if he wants to specify "boar," or simply use the rogue pronoun in this situation. Harestar and Kestrelflight are not enemies, and so simply saying "Pi mwrrwrah" would make it clear that the boar has it.

This sentence also brings up the question of pronoun agreement when there’s more than one subject. Remember this; the pronoun of the most dangerous subject always has priority.

We've come a long way and learned a lot! Next, we'll cover the complicated way that Clan cats count and measure.

- Counting

We arrive in WindClan near the end of a harrowing scene. Cloudrunner's mate Larksplash has died in childbirth, and he has been told that because of complications, the litter has a sole survivor.

Hainyoopa: Ul-arra nyams wi? Ul-arra mew-ul wi? Ul-arra arkoor shai ssarakichkar om Ul-arramew ssaryorru! [Cloudrunner: Whole-amount kin baby-they? Whole-amount kitten only baby-they? Whole-amount existence stars natural-force-they-grab and whole-fraction-kitten natural-force-they-left!] Cloudrunner: "He’s my whole kin? He, who is only a single kitten? StarClan took everything and left me Onekit!"

With these dramatic words, Cloudrunner declared his son's name; Onekit.

The nuances of this expression of grief are hard to grasp unless one has an understanding of the counting system of the Clans. Clanmew does not count with straightforward numbers; instead, they have fractions associated with a given concept.

Arra = Between 1 and 4 = Amount of pieces of prey that can fit in a mouth. Used for small quantities of concrete things. This fraction is the closest Clanmew gets to simple counting.

Rarra = 5 = Amount of claws on one paw, amount of Clans. Used to count body parts or the amount of warriors in a usual patrol.

Pabparra = 9 = Amount of a full day's patrol assignments. Used to count groups of cats, enough to patrol a territory or run a Clan.

Husskarra = 12 = Amount of whiskers on one side of the face. Used to count a day’s work, things that are being sensed in large amounts.

Shomarra = Around 30 = Amount of days in a lunar cycle. Used to count amounts of time longer than a day.

These five “fraction words” are almost always preceded by an adverb specifying how much of that amount. The adverbs paired with the amount words are:

Prra = Beginning, usually one but can be any amount under a “warl”

Warl = Quarter

Yosh = Half

Ark = Three-quarters

Ul = Entire

When they are not preceded by a prefix, they aren’t meant to be taken as an exact number, but as an estimation. Clanmew does not value exactness.

Finally there are two useful phrases that can modify these numbers:

Om owar = And another

Nyo owar = Less another

The choice of number word is based on what is being counted, not what is mathematically most convenient. “Om owar” and “nyo owar” thus are very useful phrases to express quantities over what the usual number for the appropriate counting word is. More rarely they are used to express the concept of “+1” and “-1”. This usage is rare because Clan cats don’t really care that much about precision, especially for amounts over four.

Let’s see some examples:

Ul-pabparra om owar ul-pabparra arrlur. [Whole-patrol-amount and whole patrol I-compelled.] "I sent out two patrol’s worth of cats." Karrl arlkatch praa-shomarra om owar om owar om owar. [Command will-fight beginning-moon-amount and another and another and another.] "We will fight 3 days from now." Shomarra nyo owar ssar. [Moon-amount less another they-natural-force.] "The month is a day shorter."

And now let’s see an example of numbers in a brief conversation:

Bayabkach: Pi pishkaf pabparra Hwoo-ulnyams rarrkachka. [Brambleclaw: Seen/heard red-squirrel patrol-amount Wind-Clan they-outsider-hunted.] Fofnanfaf: Pryyp arra rarr? [Brackenfur: Question amount they-outsider?] Bayabkach: Pi rarra, yosh piagorrl om yosh kachgorrl, rarr. [Brambleclaw: Seen/heard outsider-amount, half learning-rank and half claw-rank they-outsider.] Brambleclaw: "I saw a WindClan patrol hunting squirrels." Brackenfur: "How many?" Brambleclaw: "An outsider-amount, a quarter apprentices and a quarter warriors."

In this exchange when Brambleclaw says “an outsider-amount” he means a standard 5-member patrol. When he further specifies half warriors and half apprentices he specifies about 2 or 3 are warriors and another 2 or 3 are apprentices.

Here’s another conversation that happened in the middle of a ShadowClan patrol:

Rarrlurfaf: Pryyp woo urrpi? [Russetfur: Question food you-clanmate-perceive] Uboshai: Mwyr, pi ark-arra amam pipa. [Blackstar: Yes, perceive three-quarters-amount toad hear.] Russetfur: "Do you sense/see/perceive any prey?" Blackstar: "Yes, I hear three toads."

In this sentence “ark-arra” implies three toads but there may be more. If Blackstar wanted to specify there’s three and only three toads, he could have said “ark-arra ul” (three-quarter-amount only).

There are also numerous very useful idiomatic expressions using the number systems! Let’s look at a few of them.

Gryyr ul-arra arrl! [I-contain whole-amount I-must!] "I must do everything myself!" Gryyr huskarra om owar huskarra arrl! [I-contain whisker-amount and another whisker-amount I-must!] "This is all overwhelming!"

Finally, let’s examine briefly why Cloudrunner’s lament about his kit was so despairing.

As you can see from above “ul-arra” would mean “whole amount”. That may not sound particularly emotional but for a Clan cat, for whom life is fundamentally communal, the implication of the whole amount of the smallest possible fraction brings to mind the idea of loneliness.

The names Onekit, Onewhisker, and Onestar (“Ul-arramew”, “Ul-arrahussk”, and “Ul-arrashai”) could very well have been translated as Lonekit, Lonewhisker, and Lonestar.

- Vocabulary:

Down below you will find a vocabulary list used in this lesson.

Particles, threat level pronouns, and number words have been omitted as they are explained at length in the text above.

Some verbs used in tenses other than the present are only given in the present tense. Correct use of the past, present, and future and of different verb forms will be explored in a future lesson.

[If you're craving even more vocabulary, check out the Lexicon]

Common Nouns:

Arrkoor: The universe, existence

Baben: Bone

Bayab: Bramble; blackberry plant (Rubus fruticosus)

Bon: Stone

Borrl: Pelt, skin and the fur on it

Faf: Fur

Fofnan: Bracken

Hrra'a: Breeze

Hussk: Whisker

Ipa: Ear

Ipip: Kestrel (Falco tinnunculus)

Ipo: Eye

Kach: Claw

Kafyar: Wildfire

Mew: Kitten

Nyams: Kin

Pabparra: Patrol

Pishkaf: Red squirrel (Sciurus vulgaris)

Powsh: Common brown trout (Salmo trutta)

Pwyr: Toebean; The -paw suffix, used to indicate the rank of apprentice

Raor: Lion

Shai: Star

Skurss: Tyrant; the name of the ThunderClan warrior Iceheart when he was leader of BloodClan

Swash: Tail

Wask: Holly

Wish: Bell heather (Erica cinerea)

Woo: Mouse; Food

Woomoerr'pbum: Tunnelbun

Wragyr: Boar (sus scrofa)

Yywaya: Brown hare (Lepus europaeus)

The Clans:

Ulnyams: Clan

Hwoo-ulnyams: WindClan

Krraka-ulnyams: ThunderClan

Sbass-ulnyams: RiverClan

Washa-ulnyams: ShadowClan

Yaawrl-ulnyams: SkyClan

Ranks:

Gorrl: Rank

Shaigorrl: Leader

Arrlgorrl: Deputy

Shomgorrl: Cleric

Kachgorrl: Warrior

Piagorrl: Apprentice

Shompiagorrl: Cleric apprentice

Pronouns:

Owar: Another

Yar: Who

Verbs: NOTE: All verbs given are present tense.

Akach: Hunts

Akichka: Grapples, grabs

Arrl: Compels, orders; Must

Arrlkatchya: Fights

Babun: Beats (of a heart); In names sometimes translated as the -heart suffix such as Kafyarbabun (Fireheart)

Few: Falls

Fbafba: Flies, is flying (of a bird or winged animal)

Gabrrl: Crackles (of fire)

Gryyr: Contains

Nomna: Eats

Nyoopab: Gallops, running fast

Pabrpabr: Pummels

Pappa: Walks

Pi: To see or hear, to perceive generally

Pipa: To hear

Pipo: To see

Shefpash: Rescues

Shemi: Shines

Sskif: Wants

Ssuff: Suckles

Worr: Kills

Mwrrworr: Kills dishonorably, commits murder

Shaiworr: Executes, kills in StarClan's name

Wrah: Owns

Yorr: To leave behind

Suffixes:

-ul: Only, by itself

-wang: -ness, the quality of being like a thing.

Adjectives:

Eeb: Small

Gabp: Strong

Meewa: De-sexed, genderless

Morrwo: Fast

Nyarra: Of average size

Nyyr: Rotting; Bad

Osk: White

Rarrlur: Russet

Shem: Shining; Good

Ssuf: Male

Ubo: Black

Yaow: Female

Adverbs:

Boe: Very

Mwyr: Yes

Nyar: No

Conjunctions:

Nyo: Less, minus

Nyom: Or

Om: And, plus

Expressions:

-meer: Hello! (Always used with a pronoun prefix)

Ssoen wowa [2nd person pronoun] shai ssarshemi!: Congratulations!

Gryyr ul-arra arrl!: I must do everything myself!

Gryyr huskarra om owar huskarra arrl!: This is all overwhelming!

Try it yourself!

Below are ten open-ended exercises so you can practice and test your knowledge. Feel free to reference the vocabulary list and the main text of the lesson as much as you need. For an extra challenge you can try responding without looking at them or making new sentences of your own!

You’ve just been accepted into a Clan, and even though your leader hasn’t granted you a warrior name yet, they trust you enough to take you to a gathering. How would you introduce yourself to the Cats of the other Clans?

During a patrol you encounter the treacherous and murderous exile Liontail. He tries to appeal to your friendship, but you’re a loyal cat of your Clan so of course you won’t hear this rogue out! Correct his pronoun usage so he knows you’re a threat to him.

You approach the fresh kill pile and smell a rotting squirrel carcass. How would you warn your clanmates?

You are an apprentice and your mentor tells you to check for scents. You can make out 3 unique smells; two strange cats, and a toad. How do you report this to your mentor?

Your clanmate has trouble telling Snowpelt and Whitefur apart. They’re both blue-eyed white cats but while Snowpelt is large and a molly, Whitefur is small and a tom. How would you tell your clanmate this?

Your friend is describing the feared BloodClan leader Scourge, and says they are both small and strong. You want to interject and point out that Scourge was strong because he was small, and often underestimated. How do you phrase this?

While hunting, a rogue attacks your patrol! After the scuffle is over, you notice that the mice you were carrying are gone! Ask your clanmates who has the mice; them, or the rogue.

A RiverClan cat offers you some of the food they brought for the gathering. You know they brought both mice and trouts and you want to make sure you don’t eat any of those smelly fish they are so fond of. Ask them whether they have a mouse or a trout.

You are a RiverClan warrior who just offered a cat from another Clan some of the food you brought to the gathering. The cat in question just asked whether you have a mouse or a trout. It seems kind of obvious to you but it’s only polite to reply. Tell them that you’ve got a trout.

You are the deputy, and you are assigning patrols. At the end, you have 3 cats left over (Kestrelclaw, Hollyheart, and Snowear), and you must ask your leader which of these cats they would like to patrol with.

Once you'd tried them out on your own, you can check your answers over here!

#Clanmew #Conlang #constructed language #grammar #Clan Culture #Warrior Cats #Better Bones AU #Exercises #language #wc #Funfact OSV is the rarest grammatical format #And it's the format Yoda uses when he speaks #We didn't realize it at the time we picked it. It just felt right to emphasise the action last #Linguistics

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