#so there shouldn’t be another hiatus for a while

[of-fairys-and-tails]

A chapter a day!

Chapter 43/545

We’re bbbaaaaccccckkkk!

[kirnet]

Alright I’m officially scraping what I had for chaps 6 and 7 of actium and restarting 😔✊ will be better in the long run I know but it is another setback

[causticsunshine]

.

[lcvclywon]

in sickness and in health

back to masterlist

synopsis After a long fight with Jay you find yourself giving him the silent treatment. Leaving you curled up alone sick in your room, with your only comfort being the instant tteokbokki you had microwaved for yourself earlier. However it seems Jay knew where to be and what to say at exactly the right times.

warnings: mentions of food, mentions of sickness, mentions of kissing, pet names (honey), slight angst, I made YN as the 6th member of lesserafim so that the whole same building thing made sense so...js roll with it pls 😁, also not proof read!, slight fighting

genre ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ hurt to comfort

pairings: idol!jay x idol!reader, established relationship

wc ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ around 1.14k

thoughts frm yuya 💭 i know i said i was gonna go on a hiatus but i needed a serotonin boost from writing after doing a horrendous maths paper.... so semi hiatus i guess ^^ anywaysss this drabble has been rotting in the back of my mind for a while soo here u are, i'm a huge huge HUGE sucker for hurt to comfort tropes so >,<

A week. It had been a week since you and Jay had a massive argument causing the two of you to give each other the silent treatment for god knows how long. However, as if the world was out to get you, the next morning after the fight you had been plagued with a sickness that you couldn’t quite pin down, all you knew was it left you bedridden until Friday. 

Due to said sickness, you obviously couldn’t join your group for schedules and barely entered the building for dance practice. You hoped Jay would at least notice your absence, send a message asking where you were or something. But to your dismay, radio silence.

“Who cares about some stupid guy anyways…” Grumbling under your breath you reached for your chopsticks to skewer another rice cake from your measly plate of instant tteokbokki and shovel it down your throat. Maybe excessive spice you couldn’t handle and soft pillowy rice cakes could solve all your problems. 

Ding dong! Weird, you didn’t think the members would be back this early? 

Begrudgingly ripping the covers off and placing your bowl back on your table, you went to the door. Hair still an oily mess from not showering properly and clothes stuck to your body from sweat, you clearly weren’t in pristine condition to be meeting anyone. Please don’t be a delivery man, please don’t be a delivery man.

However, after opening the door, you found yourself standing in front of the one person you’d been longing for the whole week. Park Jongseong. Your gaze softened slightly and a small smile crept onto your lips, but then you remembered that you were still mad at him. Fighting the urge to embrace him and cry out for his name, you plastered on a stoic expression of indifference. 

“What are you doing here.” 

“Chaewon told me you were sick,” he said before entering into your dorm, not bothering to wait for you to let him in.

Making his way over to the kitchen he placed a white takeaway bag onto the counter before emptying its contents onto the table: a warm bowl of your favourite porridge and a cup of tea from your favourite cafe. 

“What’s this?” positioning yourself in front of Jay, you scanned the table to see the numerous small boxes of side dishes sprawled across. 

“Porridge, it’s good for you when you’re sick.” he replied before shooting his head over to the remnants of your tteokbokki “Honey why are you eating tteokbokki, you’re sick you shouldn’t be eating instant food.” he scolded before reaching over throw your lukewarm leftovers in the trash.

“It’s not that bad…” you mumbled whilst picking at the side dishes “And why do you suddenly care, thought you weren’t talking to me” Scoffing you shot him a dirty glare. 

“Correction, you weren’t talking to me; I thought you needed some space, as you usually do after a fight.” well he wasn’t wrong, you did express to him that after arguments you wanted some time to cool down by yourself, “and also, I’m not ‘suddenly’ just caring YN. Who do you think Yunjin got all those drinks, medicines, and snacks from.” 

Oh… so she didn’t buy them herself. Your gaze reached his eyes as you felt your heart soften slightly, “Okay, well you could’ve sent me a text or something. You could’ve come here and given it to me yourself, why today out of all days do you decide to come huh?” meeting your glossy eyes, Jay could tell how hurt you were over his actions. He couldn’t deny that it pained him to see you this upset. 

“Okay look, I’m sorry. I wanted to come over, but Sakura said whatever you caught was contagious and that you isolated yourself to make sure you got nobody else sick. As I mentioned earlier, you told me you liked to have time to cool down after fighting, but it was stupid of me not to even try to text you. Today it all just-” Jay stopped his rambling, catching his breath before sighing out, “I just really missed you YN” 

That was all the confirmation you needed to run into his arms and hug him so tight he didn’t even think about leaving again. Jay was quick to reciprocate, arms wrapping around you to engulf you into his warm embrace, head buried into the crook of your neck whispering sweet nothings. 

Breaking away from the embrace and tilting your head up you were graced with a warm and familiar smile painted across Jay’s face; a smile you so badly missed the entire week. 

“Don’t ever do that again.” you said with a pout 

“Promise I won't honey,” his hands reached to cup your face before adding, “Only if you promise to stop eating that stuff when you’re sick.” 

“Hey, it’s yummy! I can’t help it that I can’t cook soup or anything, tteokbokki has never failed me.” 

“Guess I’ll have to keep bringing you food then.” he replied with a smirk

“Well, I could use a personal delivery man.” giggling you reached up to mirror his actions, cupping his face with your warm hands. 

“Oh really, would a delivery man do this?” and with that he pressed a playful peck onto your lips; soft and gentle, something you missed dearly. 

“Jay!” you exclaimed, “You can’t do that, you’ll get sick!” 

“So. What.” he said between pecks, peppering your face with kisses as you giggled and placed your hands on his chest to try and push him away. Pulling away he looked into your eyes with a warm and gentle gaze, smiling softly before leaning in to give you a proper kiss. Feeling the worry of your sickness transferring to him vanish, you melted into the kiss whilst wrapping your arms around his neck. In response, his hand found its way to the small of your back while the other reached up to cup the back of your neck. It always astonished you how easily he could pull you into his orbit, almost made you forget about the soreness of your body and the fever plaguing you. 

Retreating back he giggled at your pouting face. “I’d love to continue, but I wouldn’t want the food I bought you to get cold” intertwining your fingers with his, he led you over to a chair before sitting you down. “Let’s eat okay?” he muttered before taking his spot right next to yours, hand still intertwined with your fingers. His other hand however reached over to spoon you some porridge, moving the utensil closer to your mouth. 

You happily bent forward to enjoy the bite he crafted for you, an all too familiar sensation bubbling up within you—a warmth you could only describe as, home. Jay felt like home. And you hoped he would for the rest of your lives.

perm taglist ♡ (send an ask to be added!) @floweryang

[dedicatednotobsessed]

Issa byka rūklon [Daemon Targaryen x Wife!reader]

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Other HOTD stories

Summary: Daemon is feared among men for his battle prowess, finding solace and love in his pure sunshine of a wife. One serene evening, amidst impending war, they steal a moment alone. His wife with gentle hands and a heart full of affection, braids Daemon’s hair, weaving delicate flowers into the strands…

*This was a one shot request from a very special person of mine, my bestie @mrsdaemontargaryen I had asked her to send me a prompt because I have been on such a long hiatus from writing. Writer’s block has not been fun {among personal things but let’s not get into that}. Please enjoy this Daemon one shot and soon enough, I will be taking requests again in time for season two. 🖤*

❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈

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You placed a hand on the ghost of your swelling stomach, your violet eyes shining from the fireplace’s flames. The incident was still fresh in your mind, your sister’s screams of calling you a traitor ringing in your ears. It wasn’t a surprise to see the twins together in Storm’s End, having been inseparable since birth, but you never thought Adryana* would try to murder you.

You turned your head slightly, hearing the footsteps, letting out a soft sigh, and feeling your husband wrap an arm around your waist and pull you back into his chest. “Is it done?”

Daemon nodded, nuzzling his nose into your silver hair. “Soon enough, she will feel the pain you felt.”

You took a deep breath, looking ahead. When Daemon was writing to his friends in the capital, you had mentioned to him how you wanted Adryana to feel the same pain you felt when she took her unborn babe from you. He added, “Along with the usurper’s son, take the life of his brother’s son.”

“I don’t want you to feel guilty,” Daemon whispered in your ear as though he could read your mind. “Those green cunts didn’t feel anything killing Luke and our child. You shouldn’t either.”

You nodded in agreement, furrowing your brows. “Can we go on a walk?” You knew this would be the last calm moment before Westeros is thrown into chaos.

You turned in Daemon’s arms, smiling a small smile when he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Of course, my love.”

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You wrapped your hands around Daemon’s arm as he led you down the familiar path toward Aegon’s Garden. During the day, it was a favorite spot for your young son, Alyster, to play in; he especially enjoyed the cranberries that grew there. The eye of the dragon statue glistened in the moonlight the closer you got, lifting your dress slightly so it did not drag too much through the grass.

You thanked Daemon quietly when he helped you into the plush grass, a hum passing your lips as you began to pick at the small white wildflowers surrounding you mindlessly. Since you’ve woken up from the incident, the two of you have rarely spent time alone, with Alyster not leaving your side and Daemon being preoccupied with the small council. For the first time in a long time, you felt peace.

Once he sat down, you moved to sit behind your husband, your fingers gingerly taking a section of his hair and beginning to work it in a braid. His hair was not as long as it once was but manageable. You smiled, hearing the light chuckle coming from him.

“What?” You asked as you grabbed one of the wildflowers you picked, placing it carefully within the braid.

Daemon kept his eyes ahead, a small smile forming on his features. “I’m only thinking back to our wedding day.”

“Our wedding day?” You repeated while beginning to braid another section of his hair, adding the little flowers as you went.

Daemon hummed in response. “You wanted to braid my hair that day, too.”

You smiled at the memory. You had a traditional Valyrian wedding against your mother’s wishes. You were never one to listen to your mother, to begin with, having gone against her wishes to become Rhaenyra’s ward at fifteen, shortly after Laena’s funeral, and two years later becoming Daemon’s third wife. Now, at the age of three-and-two, the two of you had a six-year-old son, a son your mother and father only met once.

“I’m hoping this war will be over quickly,” Daemon spoke quietly, breaking the silence.

You hummed, leaning back to examine your creation. “I do not want to talk about war this evening, my love,” You said softly, placing a few more flowers in the braids with a soft smile.

You enjoyed the calm moments while you could, not knowing if this would be your last one together. The war began when Aemond and Adryana struck in Storm’s End, and you knew Daemon would be restless until every one of their heads was on spikes. You were to cherish these moments while they lasted.

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You hummed as the sun filtered through the windows, stirring slightly only to feel the side beside you cold. You furrowed your brows while rubbing your eyes as you sat up, your stomach still sore from your injuries.

“You do not want to go to the small council like that?” You asked teasingly, seeing Daemon picking out the white flowers, having slept in them.

He chuckled, looking down at the small pile forming beside him at the vanity. “I’m not sure it would be proper attire for a small council meeting.”

You scrunched up your nose while slowly getting out of bed. Wrapping your silken robe around you, you walked up behind your husband, meeting his violet eyes in the mirror.

“Issa byka rūklon*,” Daemon said softly, placing his hand on your arm when you wrapped them around his neck.

You hummed lightly. “I prefer when you call me aōha vēzos*.”

Daemon laughed. “No one else can hear that.”

You smirked, moving back so Daemon could get up. You straightened his doublet for him, scrunching up your nose when he placed two fingers under your chin, making you look up.

“I love you, Y/N,” Daemon whispered, moving his hand to your cheek.

“I love you too,” You replied, meeting his lips in a short, sweet kiss.

You watched him pull away after a moment, a small smirk forming on your features. You noticed the stray flower tucked in the waves of his hair.

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“You’re late, Daemon,” Corlys spoke up, seeing the Prince enter the council chambers.

“You should already know that I enjoy making late, dramatic entrances,” Daemon replied simply, sliding into the empty seat on Rhaenyra’s right.

Rhaenyra eyed her uncle curiously, tilting her head. “Daemon,” She called to him, clearing her throat while motioning to her hair.

Daemon furrowed his brows, reaching up to feel the soft petals of the single wildflower he had forgotten about. He untangled it from his hair, looking down at it with a soft sigh.

“Is the Rogue Prince going soft?” Lord Celtigar questioned with a laugh.

“I believe he is,” Corlys agreed.

Daemon only scoffed as the Black Council erupted in laughter, Rhaenyra even adding a giggle of her own. He sighed as the jesting continued around him, his eyes staying on the wildflower in his hand. He twirled it on its tiny stem, his mind wandering back to his wife, their son, and the babe they had lost.

There was no guarantee of surviving this kin war, but Daemon was determined to win it so that he and his family could finally live the peaceful life they had long desired.

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*Adryana: Adryana Targaryen is my original character for House of the Dragon. She is the youngest daughter and fifth child of King Viserys and Queen Alicent (The reader is the eldest daughter and child). She is wed to her twin brother, Aemond, and they have a set of twins together; a son named Vanar and a daughter named Vhaenys. She is known to have a short temper and often accused her eldest sister of abandoning her to live with Rhaenyra on Dragonstone. She also felt hurt when she sided with Rhaenyra's children during the Driftmark incident. Her temper overflowed when her eldest sister made a comment about how their father would be disappointed in the twins and their actions after reuniting in Storm's End, ultimately resulting in Adryana attempting to kill her and the unborn babe. The eldest sister lived, but the unborn babe did not, leading to her and Daemon planning revenge on Lucerys and their child.

*Issa byka rūklon: High Valyrian for my little flower.

*aōha vēzos: High Valyrian for your sun.

[frannyzooey]

Short Days, Long Nights: 13

Joel Miller x f!reader

Series Masterlist

Rating: E (pregnancy sex, lactation, grief)

A/N: Thank you endlessly for being so patient with me while I've been on hiatus ❤ I'm gonna stay off for another couple weeks, but I didn't want to leave you hanging for too long. I appreciate every single person that has stuck with me on this! Thank you to @the-ginger-hedge-witch and @the-scandalorian for helping me with this one - you both are the biggest brains and the most wonderful writers and I am insanely lucky to have you on my team. Enjoy! ❤

--

Jackson. 

The image of the map is burned into Joel’s mind, always present. 

More concerned with your safety than anything, he knows you should leave, but as the weeks slip by, what picks at him more is that he didn’t have an answer to your question that day. 

“Where are we gonna go?”

He should be one step ahead. He should be on top of the potential outcomes. He should have a plan, since that’s always been his role. Stepped up with one when he had Sarah, took care of Tommy before the Outbreak, and after, led their way in the QZ. After Tommy left, he still did it, even if he was going through the motions more than anything. Doing it has always been second nature, a means to survive. 

You’d let his lack of answer drop because he knew you didn’t want to leave, and of course, he knew you shouldn’t. Not right now. But still - still - he should have had a plan for something he knew was bound to happen sometime. Blinded by the light of your fierce optimism and wanting so badly to believe in it, he simply…didn’t think about it. The first time that’s happened in decades. 

You’re depending on him, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t have an answer ready.

“Where are we gonna go?”

He doesn’t fucking know.  

Wood dust floats to settle on the floorboards around his boots, and he runs a piece of sandpaper over the beam of rough lumber that rests across his lap. The rhythmic sweeps soothe his nerves, and he tries to focus on how good it feels to do something useful with wood again. Something familiar, the dry grain sliding against his palms. A task done because he wants to, instead of as a means to get by like so much else in his life. 

This…this was for him, and for you. 

The late afternoon sun streams through the window in the shed, not quite enough to dissipate the chill. Crisp air breezes in through the open door, the sweet smell of damp leaves blending with the wood and the tips of his fingers are cold enough to stop, but he doesn’t. He has to make the most of your nap times if he wants to get this done before next week. 

Before Christmas - or the closest approximation to the date anyway, using your rudimentary calendar. Celebrating the holiday had been your idea, and like every other time when it came to something you asked for, he couldn’t say no. He said yes when you asked him to cut you a tree, nodded when you pointed to the one you wanted after a trek through the woods, helped you rip strips of red, moth bitten flannel that was worthless for clothing just to watch you tie bows to the end of the branches, as a means to decorate it. 

He was impressed by your constant resourcefulness and ingenuity when it came to the things you’d been given, and at night, when the lantern shone on it and bathed the living room in a cozy glow, it almost did feel like Christmas time. The closest thing to it that he’s felt in years, anyway. 

Placing the sandpaper on the floor and picking up a knife, his mind follows the trail marked on the map. Winding through woods and across open swathes of land, it passes right through your area and he knows it’s only a matter of time before someone else follows the first. He knows that man can’t have been the only one with a map. 

He frowns, gouging the wood a little more forcibly as he works through a knot, and he pictures the curve of your cheek, the delicate line of your neck, the bright happiness in your eyes here. That Christmas tree, in the front room. Torn between the idea of the unknown being just as unsafe as being a sitting duck at the cabin, he is restless with the need to move. The urge to keep you tucked away and protected from the world spreads beneath his skin and grows stronger every day, along with your stomach. 

It’s large enough that it strains against the shirts you’ve borrowed from him, and though you’ve started choosing large sweatshirts instead, it’s begun to push against those too. You’ve begun to sway when you stand in place, an unconscious rock as a means to relieve pressure on your lower back, and he pictures you doing the same with a baby in your arms as you stand next to the cradle that he’s been building.

When he thinks about leaving it behind only to gather dust as he drags you somewhere else, the image eats at him, reminding him too much of another room, left behind to rot. 

Another life, upended by abrupt violence. 

Guilt has always gnawed at him for so many things, and following the mental image of you holding a baby, he adds to the growing list: the idea of another child replacing the one he had. 

He fixates on all the things he couldn’t do for her on that last day but also the things time has robbed from him: the image of her face, the sound of her laugh. The books she liked, the order in which she lost her teeth, the weight of her infant body in his arms. How much of that time he spent without her while trying to provide for her, and how here, he’s got all the time in the world for this new child. His new child. 

More feelings; the knife gouging deeper. Looking forward to a holiday that can’t include her, nervously anticipating holding a baby that belongs to him, looking at you and what you’ve built together and being so fucking happy he missed his mark on that bleak day ten years ago. 

Is it betrayal to feel joy?

He’s not replacing her. He knows that. He knows, and yet the guilt never stops and so neither do his hands nor his mind, both working on fixing other problems that can be fixed. 

Jackson. 

A bed for the baby.

–

“I know it would be cold, but I think I’d rather have snow.”

You look out at the sodden garden, the neat, large borders that surround it blending in with the damp landscape. The fence that Joel built the only visual marker of where it’s at, it’s prepped for winter, buried in a dense layer of leaves and compost. You absentmindedly finger the leaf of a plant you brought inside with you, sheets of rain sliding down the window. 

“Not me,” he says. “Might look pretty, but it would be a whole lot more dangerous.”

The blurred, muted mash of colors outside all blend together, the world a canvas of dingy brown and bleak gray. Everything soggy and limp, everything saturated with wetness: at this very moment, you’d take danger over another day of this. 

Turning away from the depressing sight, you watch him sort through a pile of loose screws and nails on the coffee table. His head bent in his task, his shirt pulls tight across his shoulders as he hunches over and nudges each piece of metal with the tip of his finger, sorting them. Listening to the pleasant clink of them being dropped into glass jars, you go back to watering the plants. 

After a process that had you pouring over the gardening book for days, you left what you could in the garden in order to have a good base for the spring, but took the rest inside, to see if you could keep growing anything through the winter. 

Mismatched buckets and pots, an amalgamation of anything that would hold enough soil to plant a seed in, it was an experiment for sure. Enough was stored in the pantry to get you through the winter if you stayed lean enough about rations, and Joel had been pushing his portions upon you like there was no tomorrow, constantly assuring you that he had plenty. 

“What is this?”

Stopping to stretch his back with a groan, he’s picked up a loose, shapeless scrap of fabric off the couch. 

“Wait –” you protest, setting the watering can down. 

He frowns at it, turning it in his hands, and when you make a hasty grab for it, he keeps it out of your reach with a chuckle.

“This my present, honey?” His facial expression still puzzled, he tries to work out what it is. 

“It’s for the baby,” you explain. Coming to stand next to him, you turn it upright. “See? This is the neckhole, and the arms go here.”

“.......And the legs?”

“I’m not that good at sewing, okay?” you defend yourself with a laugh. “I thought maybe their legs could just hang out in this little…sack area.”

You make a self deprecating face, looking to him for a reaction, and he fingers the bottom of it. 

“That ain’t bad. You should see if you can tie up the bottom, you know, for a draft or somethin’.”

“I used all the spare laces on the pants. I tried to make some, but of course I don’t have elastic and I don’t know how big to make them around the waist for a button, so I thought I could just cut two holes and make like, a little belt so that it would grow with the baby and...”

Your words taper off when you realize he’s staring up at you with an amused expression and you let your shoulders drop in defeat. “This kid is gonna look like they’re from the eighteen hundreds, aren’t they.” 

“I guess you would know, with the books you’re always readin’,” he says with a grin, and the stack of historical fiction next to your side of the bed comes to mind. 

“Oh God,” you moan quietly to yourself. 

Standing with a soft grunt, he bends to press a kiss to the crown of your hair. 

“Don’t worry about it,  honey,” he murmurs. “You about ready for bed? I’m gonna go do a final lap.”

Checking the perimeter of the cabin while you bank the wood stove for the night, he eventually joins you in the bedroom, bringing in the smell of cool night air with him. Already in bed, you’re propped against the headboard with your book in hand, and you admire him as he gets ready for bed himself: the edges of his curling locks catching the light in a glowing chestnut, the warmth held in his tanned skin as he peels off his shirt, the soft give of his still trim stomach as he pads over to bed. He climbs in, adjusting the covers around the two of you. 

“What about Mae?” you ask absentmindedly, skimming the book in front of you. 

He shrugs. “Not bad.”

You make a face at the reception. “What about….Lauren?”

Stretching out on his side to face you, he rests his hand on your bump, smoothing the fabric of your sleep shirt down. A small movement nudges underneath his palm, and the corner of his mouth lifts. An intimate, quiet moment, you keep reading while he chases the constant movements with his touch, his fingers splayed wide, searching. 

“Always so squirrely at night,” he says, the words rounded with softness. 

“Tell me about it,” you sigh. 

You set your book to the side and slide down next to him as he reaches to turn off the lantern, and the two of you lay facing each other, your belly between the length of your bodies. His hand finds your stomach again, and you let yours rest over it, guiding his touch lower. Lower, until the tips of his fingers brush against the band of your underwear and also right where a set of feet (or hands) slide underneath your skin. The taut skin shifts with rapid movement, a sensation that never fails to mesmerize you, but it’s something else when he’s the one who gets to see it. Watching him experiencing it is your favorite. 

“What about Margaret? I’ve always liked that name.”

He makes a face, telling you all you need to know. “What makes you so sure it’s gonna be a girl?” 

You shrug, lifting the hem of your shirt so you can feel his skin on yours, and his hand slides right back into place. 

“Have you thought of any names?” you ask quietly.

“I, uh…I was sorta thinkin’ about June.” His dark eyes flit up to yours. “After June Carter Cash. Or Pearl, after –”

“You wanna name my baby after Pearl Jam?” your eyebrows raise. You’ve heard him humming “Future Days” while working outside, you know the band is a favorite of his. 

He grins at your reaction. “That a no?”

“I should have guessed it would be music related,” you tease with a smile, scooting closer. “I like June. It’s pretty.”

The gentle exploration of his touch soothes you, and you close your eyes to savor it. 

“What about boy names?” you ask. “I can’t really think of any. It’s actually what makes me think it’s a girl, like she’s trying to tell me something.”

“I haven’t thought of too many either. Thomas, for my brother, maybe?”

“That’s a good one.” You yawn, and sleep softly rounds the edges of your words. “Are you ready for next week?”

The preparation of his gift has your hands aching and grasping one with the other, you rub the tender knuckles, working some of the soreness out. Wordlessly, he reaches for your hand and takes it into his own, kneading the joints. 

“I think so. S’kinda nice, havin’ a Christmas.” His touch lingers on the tips of your fingers, warming them. “Too cold in here? I can put another log on if you want.”

“No, it’s just…they ache. They're so swollen they get stiff sometimes. I don’t think the damp is helping.”

You hear it now, peppering the window in the dark. The steady drum of rain on the window, the sound makes the room all the more inviting: warm and safe, his body heat radiating underneath the quilt. He keeps rubbing your fingers, his own larger hands cradling your smaller one, and akin to someone rubbing your back to sleep, the touch lulls you, your eyes fluttering shut. 

“This good?” His mouth brushes lightly against your knuckles, his lips pressing against your fingers before he breathes warm air on them. 

“Mmmm, yea.” Silent for a moment, you speak. “Joel?”

He hums in acknowledgement of his name, and you voice the nightly request you started asking him weeks ago. 

“Tell me what you know.”

A prompt he’s seemingly ready for, he shifts to get comfortable, letting out a sigh. The motion similar to someone getting ready to tell a bedtime story, your reaction to curl tight next to him is the same. 

The first time you asked him this, he barely remembered anything. Other memories taking their place, the finer details of pregnancy and birth were buried deep, most of them forgotten. He remembered the doctor's visits but not the frequency. The general concept of birth but not the stages. The pain, but as someone who didn’t go through it, he couldn’t tell you what labor actually felt like. 

All guesses and long ago recollections, you took them because they were better than nothing. Tonight, he tells you about the night feedings. 

“Babies, they uh…” he begins in his gravely, lowered voice, trying to speak softly in the darkness. “You know they eat every couple of hours or so for a while after they’re born. Weeks of it.”

You nod against his shoulder, listening to his deep drawl. 

“I don’t remember much because when you don’t get a lot of sleep it all tends to blur together, y’know? But I do remember some of them. Peaceful, sometimes. Everything is so quiet and still, and there ain’t nothin’ but you and them, sittin’ together.”

He stops, and you reach up to brush your fingers along the edge of his jaw, just enough to let him know you’re listening. He sighs, a heavy, contemplative thing. 

“They are so small in your hands. So small it’s scary. I remember bein’ so careful, always feelin’ like I was gonna accidentally hurt her, or –” his breath hitches, and he swallows hard. He’s silent for a moment, and your breath slows and evens out. “Anyway, they don’t let you get any sleep, not for a few months, but sometimes….sometimes, you don’t mind.”

Your body loose and relaxed next to his, you’re on the edge of sleep when the words tumble softly out of your mouth. 

“Joel?”

“Yea?” 

“I’m scared.” The confession is whispered into his bare skin, and you breathe in his comforting, familiar smell, the steady drum of his heart beating underneath your cheek. His hand is a weighty drag down the line of your spine, the feeling of it steadying you. 

The wind blows outside, rain pelting the glass. 

“I know, honey,” he answers. “Me too.”

–

Long after you’ve fallen asleep, he stays awake, his mind lost in a memory. 

Her tiny body rigid with deceiving strength, he struggles to force her arm into a small sleeve. His hand is huge compared to her fragile arm, her skin downy soft under his palm, and moonlight shines through the window in her bedroom just enough to light the features of her scrunched, upset face. A small wail pierces the darkness, and succeeding in dressing her, he lifts her up. 

One hand cupping her entire bottom with the other covering her back, he makes low shushing sounds with his mouth to soothe her, inhaling the milky sweet smell that clings to her skin. 

“Hey baby girl, shhh. I got you. I got you.”

Her tiny face burrows into his chest, her body squirming until she gets comfortable, and he keeps soothing with low hums, his hand rubbing a slow circle over her purple pajamas as she settles. 

Moving slowly so as not to disturb her, he sits down in the rocking chair and continues to hold her; the carpet plush under his bare foot that gently pushes off the floor. His sleep blurred eyes focus on the small turn of a glass butterfly that hangs from her window, the rounded curves catching the moonlight as she sleeps on his chest. 

He lets the unearthed, vivid memory wash over him as his chest constricts, the pain suffocating. Finding himself in this position more and more since you started asking him about what he remembers, he closes his eyes and succumbs to the pain: worth it, to see her face again. To remember things he’d thought he’d forgotten. 

The edges of the memory blur and crumble, his mind losing its focus on that purple room and on the cusp of sleep, he tries to grasp and hold on tight to the details until they fade away. 

–

“Keep your eyes closed, okay? Wasn’t much to wrap with.” 

Anticipation thrums through you, your features lax with fondness as you wait patiently on the living room floor with your eyes closed. A fire crackles in the wood stove next to you, shadows pooled in the corners of the living room where the light doesn’t reach, and you scoot a little closer to absorb more heat. 

Never one to linger in bed, he’s been up since dawn, and when you awoke alone, there was a  weighted, peaceful stillness in the air—a significance to the day that was at best, a guess. Still, you felt it all the same: through drinking tea with him on the back porch this morning, through reading on the couch this afternoon, through helping him prep the small feast you allowed yourselves for dinner. 

You hear and feel a shift in the air when he comes to sit in front of you, setting your present at your feet. 

“Okay, you can open ‘em.”

Laughter bubbles bright and loud when you see what it is.

“Joel Miller, you shouldn’t have.” Picking up the bottle of vinegar, you tilt it in the light to see how much is left: about half, which is a find indeed. “How long have you been hiding this?”

He shrugs, looking pleased with your reaction. “Not too long. I found it when I went to check out that last cabin. I know it’s not a lot, but I thought it would be useful.”

Vinegar means pickling, means cleaning, means acid for the soil of your plants that you moved inside for the winter, and even though the label is half peeled off and the contents might not be as potent as they once were, you have never been so happy to see a bottle of the stuff in your life. 

“Thank you,” you say softly, leaning forward as much as you can, presenting your lips for a kiss. He gives you one, and you pull back, your mouth twisted in an apologetic pout. “This is a way better gift than what I got you.”

“That’s not true,” he argues. “You fixed my favorite jacket. Feels brand new.”

After snagging it on a tree branch while hunting, he had been so disappointed when he inspected the size of the rip when he came home. Handing it to you, he had declared it no good anymore and told you to use it for something else, but knowing it was his favorite, you’d been mending it in secret while he went out for the day. Textiles being a scarcity aside, that jacket was also your favorite: it’s the one he’s been wearing since you first started out; the sight of it comforting to you. 

“I actually got you somethin’ else, but you’ll have to close your eyes again.”

You automatically squeeze your eyes shut, your hands playfully grabbing the air as you squirm on the floor, and the sound of his low chuckle makes you smile wider. Hearing the front door open and then close, you frown when the object he places at your feet sounds heavy.

“Okay, open em’ up.”

It’s immediate, the way your expression drops from delight into something more reverential. Your breath frozen in your lungs, you reach out and touch the smooth edges of the cradle. Tracing the perfectly fit together corners, you take in how small it is – so small - but perfect. 

Your eyes lift to meet his, tears blurring your vision. “Did you make this?”

“Yea,” he replies softly. “I kept in the shed, workin’ on it when you were napping. I knew we needed somewhere to put her, so I thought –”

“Her?” Your fingers brushing along the neat edges, you look up at him with a small, watery smile, and he matches it with a soft one of his own. 

“Sure, why not. You’ve convinced me.” Affection is open and obvious on his face, the lines that normally crease his forehead softened as he watches you look it over. 

“This is…so much, Joel. It’s beautiful. I don’t even know how…I was thinking we’d have to put her in a dresser drawer or something, and I –” Overwhelmed with his thoughtfulness, you’re at a loss for words. “Thank you,” you eventually settle on, hoping the sincereness in your words expresses everything you feel. 

“You look so surprised,” he says, teasing laced in his tone. “Did you really think I would get you just a half bottle of vinegar for Christmas?” 

“I don’t know!” you laugh, a hitch in your breathing as you settle your emotions. “We can’t exactly go Christmas shopping, so I figured you did the best you could.”

He reaches to swipe a tear from the round of your cheek, and you chase the heat of his palm, leaning into it. “It’s been so long since I gave anyone a Christmas present. Glad I’m not totally out of practice.”

Gently sliding the cradle out of the way, you rise to your knees to give him a kiss. 

“I love it.”

You kiss him again, his lips tinted red from the wine at dinner, and the bitterness sweeps through your mouth when he gifts you a slow slide of his tongue. The tentative heat held in his response passes to you, and swallowing his hunger, it spreads through your limbs to pool between your legs. Pressing forward, your hand reaches out for his shirt, and you deepen the kiss.

You hope it conveys everything you want to put into words but can’t: appreciation, love, gratitude. Keeping your mouth on his, you slip your hand around the back of his neck and threading your fingers up through his locks, you hold him in place, his hand grasping your elbow to steady you as a soft sound rumbles from his throat. 

“I guess you really liked it.”

You just nod, pulling him in for another kiss, his familiar taste and scent filling your senses as he presses himself closer, and when you let out the catch of a moan in your throat, he pulls back just far enough for you to see hooded want in his eyes.

“We done with the gift exchange?” He presses a kiss to your your throat, his lips warm and delicate over the skin he finds and you nod, letting him taste.

“Here,” he asks, his mouth moving just below your ear, “or in the bedroom?”

“Here,” you breathe, cupping his whiskered cheeks to pull his mouth back to yours. Your hand slips between his thighs, finding him half hard under his jeans, and groaning into your mouth, he shifts on the floor to kneel in front of you. Your fingers work the buttons of his flannel open, pushing it from his shoulders at the same time he grabs the hem of your shirt to work it over your head and off. Undoing your bra, you fling it onto the floor as his hand reaches back to tug his t-shirt off in a smooth, overhand motion, and your hands drop to his belt buckle, tugging it open.  

The back of your knuckles swipe through the line of coarse hair that leads under the waistband of his jeans, a slight shakiness to your movements betraying the need you feel, and it’s something he sees and rewards with another consuming kiss.

The rest of your clothes tugged off in a rush, he rests his back against the couch and guides you onto his lap, the soft inside of your thighs straddling the outside of his firmer ones. One of the only comfortable positions you’ve got left, it’s been your favorite because it gives him unfettered access to your breasts and when he palms them in appreciation, anticipation sends a warm thrill up your spine. 

Using both his hands, he cups the sides of your jaw to draw you in, holding you in place while he opens your mouth with his, his tongue sliding smoothly against yours. His fingertips dig into the nape of your neck, one hand dropping to palm the plush weight of your breast, and you kiss him back even harder while he delicately teases your nipple with his thumb. 

The calloused pad skims over the top of it, the contrast between the tender touch and the fierceness of his kisses making your head swim with arousal, and pulling back, he takes in your kiss-swollen mouth only for a moment before bending his attention to your breast. 

Using the cradle of his hold, he pushes it up to draw the peak of it into his mouth, and your head tips back, a broken cry coming from your throat. 

“Please. Please.”

He would give you anything – anything – you ask for, and this is no different. He laves his tongue over the peaked bud, dragging firm pressure over it as he draws it into his mouth, and when you dig your fingers into his hair and pull with a moan of pleasure, his hand cups the underside of your breast to push more in. Frenzied, rough, desperate for more, a deep groan slides out of his throat at the same moment you feel a strange, tingling sensation on your nipple. 

Surprise shows in his brown eyes when they flick up to yours, and pulling back, you both stop. 

“Was that –” you ask, and he looks down at your breast, his thumb dragging delicately along the peak. 

“Yea, I think it was,” he answers, slightly mesmerized. 

A drop of milky liquid hangs from the tip of your breast, and he wipes it away, smearing it on your soft skin. Another one takes its place, and his eyes flicker with interest. 

“Holy shit.” 

The words slip out faster than you can stop them, and the corresponding lift of his eyebrows makes you laugh, his own deeper chuckle joining your lighter one. He pulls you in for a kiss right as you’re leaning down for one, and you find there was no hunger lost while the moment was broken; instead it comes back even stronger as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and he holds onto your back with a splayed grip so fierce it makes you squirm. 

Unsure of when you started grinding your hips against his, you work them slightly faster. Spread and wet on his lap, you’re so achingly empty right over where you can feel the heft of him pressing between your bodies, and fire lights under your skin with how much you want him to just take. 

He’s been so careful with you, so considerate in his handling of your body these last few weeks. Always taking care of every need that you have, he’s done so with no less attentiveness, but you can tell that he’s been holding back—a telling rigidness to his muscles when he moves above you, a tightness to his strokes every time he fucks you as if he’s keeping his body  in check to make sure he doesn’t lose himself. Missing the sharp edges to his love, you kiss him harder, and he groans as if in pain, his tongue sliding deep into your mouth. His beard rubs your chin raw, the pressure of his response forcing your body to tip back slightly in his hold.

“Fuck me,” you whine, the words breathless against his lips, and he groans again, breaking your kiss. 

“Christ, honey, turn around.”

Desperate to follow anything he tells you to do, you grip his shoulder to steady yourself as you turn yourself around, your back to his front. His mouth is an immediate brush against the nape of your neck, a heady sensation that has you melting back into him, and his hands travel up your sides to cup your breasts, pulling at the peaks. 

Your ass grinds in his lap, the thick, stiff line of his cock trapped between your bodies, and when you arch your back and lean forward in a silent invitation, he reaches down to line himself up. Easing yourself back down, the stretch is delicious but so tight it’s almost unbearable. 

“Goddamn,” he groans over your breathless whine. 

Wrapping your smaller hands around his thick wrists for purchase, you pull at your bottom lip with your teeth as you sink all the way down to the base, and when he’s fully seated inside you, he bands his arms just under your breasts in a tight hold, keeping you in place. You can feel how hard he’s breathing between your shoulder blades, his beard rubbing against your skin, and squirming in his lap with a soft sound, you start to roll your hips. 

He’s so deep this way, so much deeper than he’s been in weeks, and taking a moment to get used to it with a couple of slick strokes down, you chase the thick, filling stretch of his cock. Leaning forward, you brace your hands on his knees, and the deep groan you hear from behind you makes you wetter; your body physically reacting to his wordless praise. 

“You feel so fucking good, honey. So good.”

His hands traverse your back—one splayed wide to drag heavily down your spine, the other curled around your hip to guide your movements–and when you bend forward as much as your stomach allows, his hand drops to your ass, spreading you from behind. 

“I wish you could see how wet my cock is. I want you to see how you’re soakin’ it.”

“I can feel it,” you moan, your hips working faster. 

You can: every down stroke is smooth and audible, the tight walls of your cunt stretching around him to take him perfect and fluid every single time, and when you start to pull him deeper, he sits forward with a cinch, pulling you back towards his body. The solid, warm wall of his chest cages you in, his arm looping around your hip so his hand can reach your clit, and when he finds it, everything spreads warm and thick from your center outwards, your head tipping back to rest against his shoulder. 

“There’s my girl,” he smiles when your body drapes pliant and loose against his, your hips chasing the pressure of his fingers. Forward into his touch and backwards onto his cock, you can hear him breathing heavy and low into your ear and your hands find his forearms to hold on tight, your nails digging into the thick muscles as you work yourself faster. 

He rubs your clit in quicker, more precise circles, just right with the firm slip of two calloused fingers, and your thighs tighten in their tremble, your release a bright, shining edge that beckons. 

When it happens, it breaks you – clamping tight around him as you’re suspended in a state of strained rapture, his hand comes up to cradle the base of your throat in a possessive hold while his other hand keeps working, and a second wave takes you by surprise, washing over your skin as you cry out. You can feel the wetness that soaks his fingers when he reaches down to feel where you’re stretched around him, letting out a groan against your skin. 

His hand smears damply across your hip as he lifts you from his lap, slipping out as he guides you on to your hands and knees, and loose and pliant, you let him position you anyway he wants. 

“Just a little more, honey. Just a little longer,” he coaxes. 

Resting your cheek on the floor, you arch your back to put yourself on display for him as you catch your breath, but it’s stolen just as quickly when he gives you a rough, open mouthed kiss to your cunt. He eats you like a man starved, the wet muscle of his tongue flattening against you as he keeps you open with his hands splayed on your ass, and a deep rumbled groan is felt against the inside of your thighs when you reach back to tug on his hair. 

His tongue dips deep inside you for a taste, and just when he pulls back, he goes in for more, like he’s changed his mind because he can’t get enough. Harder this time, more forceful, the action pushing your hips forward, and when you cry out, he’s dragging himself back, pulling away to position himself. 

The heat of his body radiates along the back of your thighs, the thick tip of his cock notched against the slick dip of your entrance only for the barest of moments before he pushes himself in with a stroke of his hips, and you hear a hiss behind you, one you almost don’t catch over the low moan that spills out of your mouth.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groans, his hips fitting neatly along your ass. He slides out and then back in, giving you time to adjust to his size. “I want – Christ – I want…can you take it harder for me?”

“Yes. God yes. Please.”

He answers with a rougher slide in, an audible muted pound of his hips against your skin. “You tell me if it’s too much, honey, okay?”

After turning your head and nodding so he can see you, he gives you another rough, smooth stroke in and then another one, each one filling you until the air feels like it’s being pushed from your lungs, and then he picks up his pace, letting out a low, heavy breath for every thrust. It sounds obscene: his rumbled, low groans and grunts, but you can barely focus on it for how sensitive you are to his thickness. Everything tighter, the fit is a snug, slick slide in every time, and you squeeze around him, earning you another hiss of appreciation. 

“This pussy is gonna kill me,” he groans and then holds nothing back: his hips snapping against you with his hand resting flat on your tailbone, every jolt rocking your body forward. 

Exactly what you asked for and what you’ve been missing, you let him know. 

“It feels…it feels so good. God I’ve missed this.”

“Yea?” The word is a breathless growl, and you clench down on him again. “What about this? Did you miss this too?”

His hands wrapping around the inside of your elbows, he tugs you back and up until your back is arched with your ass in his lap and then he’s pounding into you. 

“Joel!” 

Faster and harder, his hips work ceaselessly behind you for a dozen strokes and when he comes, his fingers dig tight into your skin, your arms aching as he holds you in place to take every last drop. Panting behind you, his strokes slow into a rhythmic grind and sliding out, he eases you gently down onto the floor where you slump, your cheek resting on the fold of your arms.

Dazed and loose, with a content smile on your lips, you lay down on your side and he joins you, dropping to the floor. His arm slung over his eyes, you watch his pulse pound in his neck as he tries to catch his breath. 

“So…was that also a Christmas present, or….?” you tease, the question coming out slow and saturated with contentment, and he laughs, a breathless thing that’s carefree and deep. 

“Sure,” he answers, rolling onto his side. “Merry Christmas.”

The light of the flames dancing across your bare body, shadows slide over his tanned skin and the bluntness of his reply makes you laugh. 

The two of you look at each other for a moment, his hand coming up to brush away an errant lock of hair from your temple. His hand glides down the length of your torso, coming to rest on the swell of your stomach and leaning in, his mouth meets yours.  

Still smiling, you cup his cheek and with a slick slide leaking between your thighs, pull him closer to deepen the kiss.

[floylia]

ELYSIAN ♫

05. Time is a bargaining tool

Time is a bargaining tool.

Scara knew that.

“You want me to feature on your album?” You repeated Scara’s words, beginning to doubt your ability to hear, “Do you realize how risky that is?”

Scara bobbed his head with pleased a expression etched on his face as if his words weren’t weighted with worry, “That’s why I asked you if you were ready to take a risk.”

You stood up, unable to sit still, now pacing across the room. Bambi must have sensed your unease, because he too, started following you while rubbing himself against your legs, “On a normal occasion, I wouldn’t mind. But you’re playing with two careers here. I might sound frustrating, refusing your offer, but don’t blame me for being realistic.”

“When have I ever cared about reputations?”

You fought the urge to smack him back into his senses.

“Never, but you’re in an industry where the public’s opinion can change the trajectory of the career you’ve established for years.”

And I don’t want you to go through that as well.

“We’re not puppets.”

“That’s debatable.”

Scara sighed, tousling his hair once again—his nervous habit, “We shouldn’t let them control us.”

It’s easier said than done.

But you understood where he was coming from.

You faced him, offering your utmost sincerity, “I don’t want to drag you in my mess. Nor do I want to cause more trouble than necessary.”

Silence engulfed the room. You glanced over at your friend. He’s deep in thought, gaze intense, expression unreadable. But you knew he was scheming, thinking of ways to persuade you—anything to assure you that all’s well, ends well.

Because what Scara wants, Scara gets.

“How long is your hiatus?”

You shrugged your shoulder and decided to sit back down. Bambi trailed you as he leaped up the bed and onto your lap. Clingy cats are the best, “I don’t know, but they’ll probably kick me out before it’s over. I have less than three months left, anyway.”

“What if we use this opportunity?”

“What do you mean?”

He crossed his arms, “Tell your story. Your silence leaves for more assumptions to grow.”

“I would if they let me use my voice. I was planning to wait until my contract is up to take legal actions.”

He tilted his head, “Why can’t you now?”

“Because they’re silencing me. Especially since my accuser is from the same company,” You deadpanned, stating the obvious, a detail he may have forgotten.

Scaramouche scoffed in disbelief, eyebrows furrowed as he shook his head in disapproval, “But they’re willing to throw you under the bus and take her side over you?”

“Which is why I don’t want to be responsible for ruining the career you’ve built for years. Even my friends are receiving unnecessary hate just because they’re connected to me.”

“So it’s a lost cause?”

You nodded.

“Can you…” Scara hesitated, wondering if he should continue, “Can you think it over some more? At least until your hiatus is up?”

You crossed your arms, failing to hide the faint smile creeping across your lips, “You sound desperate.”

“Enjoying my misery?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’ll win you over, just wait.”

Time is a bargaining tool.

You realized that.

Notes:

“We’re not puppets.” Haha so about that

another update cause i feel bad for ghosting 🫡

hope you all enjoy :))

i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you (bolded = couldn’t tag)

Synopsis: After 7 years of enduring the media’s relentless pursuit of painting you as a villain, you’re forced to go through an indefinite hiatus with a tainted reputation on your head. However, just when you thought your career was over, a certain 5WIRL member wants you to feature on his solo career. Surely, this won’t affect your reputation once more, would it?

Scaramouche x fem!reader

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[huggingkoalas]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 | vanessa shelly

pairing — ‧₊˚ professor!vanessa shelly x fem!student!reader

summary — ‧₊˚ after encountering one of your professors, professor vanessa shelly, by chance at the club, the both of you drink together at the bar. you go over to her place afterwards for some ‘private time’.

word count — ‧₊˚ 1.8k

warning(s) — ‧₊˚ smut, pet names, degradation, cursing, oral sex, top!vanessa, bottom!reader, teacher-student relationship

authors note — ‧₊˚ less use of ‘flowery’ language this time, i tried to be more quick with the writing but still ended with 1k words D: will probably be on hiatus for abit because of work and family issues </3

It was a seedy bar, barely on the cusp of legality. You let out a series of coughs at the reeking smell of sweat and sex. You had heard from your friends that there was a lesbian bar near your dorm. You were a sophomore at the University of Utah and haven’t had any luck getting a relationship with anyone at the university so far. You were a closeted bisexual, so you decided to try the lesbian bar instead of a normal one.

You were disappointed by the lack of choices for the evening. The attractive ones looked like they were taken, and there were others you could not picture being with. You sighed, sipping on your glass of rum and coke.

You knew that you shouldn’t be so picky, it had been over a year since you’d had sex. You were so busy with your studies that you didn’t have time to have a social life. Your fingers and toys worked occasionally, but only for awhile, and you wanted some real company. Toying with your drink, you decided to give it five more minutes, and if no one remotely attractive arrived, you’d go home.

The five minutes went faster than you had hoped, so quickly that you decided to give yourself another five and then another. Letting out a ‘tsk’, you drank the last of your rum and coke and stood up. You quickly cast a desperate eye towards the door.

And that was when a familiar figure walked in. Your eyes widened as you realized that it was your writing and rhetoric studies professor, Professor Vanessa Shelly. The surprise of seeing her in such a setting made you freeze for a moment, but curiosity got the better of you.

Vanessa’s gaze roamed the bar and landed on you. She approached you, weaving through the dancing crowd to reach the service bar. “Hello, Ms. L/N.” She called out above the music.

You took a shaky breath. “Oh, good evening Professor Shelly! It’s... Uh, it’s not what it looks like.” You stammered, a faint blush colouring your cheeks. “I’m just here for a drink. I’m not into women.”

She chuckled, trying to put you at ease. “No need to explain. We’re not in university, you can call me Vanessa. Why don’t I get you a drink?”

The both of you navigated your way through the bar, settling into a quieter corner where you could converse without shouting over the music. You let your gaze roam her outfit, realizing that she was still in her work clothes. You admired how her grey pantsuit hugged her body. and that blue tie she wore. You had always thought your professor was attractive, especially when she wore a tie. You had never thought that she might also be gay. Why else would she be in a lesbian bar?

After a moment, a lively individual with a charismatic smile approached us. “What can I get you two?” The bartender asked.

You glanced at Vanessa, giving her the opportunity to choose first. She pondered for a moment before deciding on something simple. “A shot of vodka, please.”

The bartender nodded, turning his attention to you. “And for you?”

You offered a smile. “I’ll go with a rum and coke, thanks.”

While waiting for the drinks, you could see Vanessa cast worried looks at the people around the bar. Was she nervous that someone would recognize the both of you? Your thoughts were interrupted when your drinks came. You raised your glass to your lips, appreciating the familiar comfort it offered. Vanessa downed her shot of vodka, letting out a hum at the taste.

You asked her nervously. “And what about you, Vanessa? What’re you doing here? I never expected to see a professor here.”

With a smirk, Vanessa placed down her glass. “Unlike you, Ms. L/N, I’m gay.”

“Oh.” You replied, her cheeks turning a light shade of red.

She reached her hand across the table and placed it gently on yours. You didn’t react by snatching your hand away, but your gaze did shift nervously away from hers.

“You’re not here for a drink, are you? You’re gay.” Vanessa said carefully.

“I... Well, you’re correct. I’m here because I’m gay.” Your gaze fell to her hand holding yours. “I feel so disgusting, though. I can’t help it, it’s just the way women look - they do something to me. I know it's wrong to feel like this.”

Vanessa stroked her thumb against the back of your hand and tried to speak encouragingly. “It’s not disgusting. Some women like men, while others like other women. Neither is right or wrong.”

“Thanks, Vanessa.” Your hand that wasn’t holding her hand lifted to wipe away a tear. “I wish I could be like you. To have no restrictions on sexuality.”

Vanessa’s eyebrows rose. You could see that she was taking time to think about her following words. “Why don’t we go to my place? We can talk further in private.”

“I... I’d like that.” You smiled. You downed the last sip of your rum and coke. You wondered if she knew if going back to her place was another way of saying ‘to go back to her place to fuck’.

Vanessa switched on the light in her apartment and turned to you. “Make yourself comfortable.”

She went over to a counter beside the television. A vinyl recorder sat atop the counter. She sifted through a box full of vinyl, choosing the perfect record for the setting. Finally taking her pick and placing the vinyl on the recorder, soft, soothing music began to play from the instrument.

She went to her kitchen to grab a wine bottle and a pair of wine glasses. She joined you on the couch, placing them on the coffee table. She poured the wine into the two glasses, the red liquid reminding you of the colour of her lipstick.

Raising both of your glasses, Vanessa exclaimed. “Cheers.”

“Thank you, Vanessa.” The both of you clinked your glasses.

The both of you sat drinking on their glasses of wine for a couple of minutes. You recognized that the music playing on the vinyl recorder was a classic song you favoured. Vanessa placed down her glass and stood up, extending a hand to you. “Wanna dance?”

“N-Now? Here?” You were stunned. You exhaled nervously, taking Vanessa’s hand to pull yourself up. "Alright.”

Vanessa danced energetically. It took you time to ease your shyness to dance as energetically as her. The both of you threw themselves around the room like two hyper-high school teenagers, laughter dancing in the air. You laughed as you walked over to take another sip of your drink. She walked over to the vinyl recorder and replaced the album with a more upbeat one. She sauntered back to you, her hips swaying as she danced to the song. You stayed still for a second, admiring how her body looked as she danced.

“Come on,” Vanessa called, beckoning you with a finger and a wink.

You put down your drink, walking over to join her. While the both of you were dancing separately before, she was moving closer to you, so much so that your body was almost touching hers. You smiled as you looked up at her, and she beamed back. Vanessa reached behind you and pulled you towards her.

“V-Vanessa-” You stuttered.

Vanessa’s smile turned into a smirk. She leaned forward, closing her lips onto you. Your lips melted on hers, your lips opening to give her tongue permission to roam your mouth. Realizing what was happening, you pulled back in shock, your cheeks reddening.

“I-I’m sorry.” Vanessa apologized, unwrapping her hands from your waist.

“I-I should be the one apologizing, it’s me. I’m not ready.” You smiled weakly, “I’m attracted to you, but you're my professor, and-”

Vanessa gave you a quick peck on the lips, shutting you up. “I know, but we’ll figure something out, alright?”

Speechless, you nodded. Vanessa wrapped her arms around your waist, and you wrapped your arms around her shoulder. This time, you were the one to initiate the kiss. You deepened the kiss, sucking on her bottom lip in favour. As the both of you kissed, Vanessa couldn’t help but move her hands from your waist to your butt, squeezing it lightly.

Your hands went to the buttons on her pantsuit, unbuttoning them. She broke the kiss, looking at you with raised eyebrows. “Are you sure about this?”

You nodded. “Yes, please-” Vanessa grinned and laid a trail of kisses around your neck, her hands sliding underneath your shirt. She was surprised to feel nothing but bare flesh, squeezing your breasts.

“You’re a naughty girl, aren’t you?” Vanessa whispered. You grabbed the hem of your shirt, taking it off in reply to her question.

“Are you going to punish me, Professor Shelly?” you teased, calling her by her professional term.

The music had stopped long ago, but the two of you were too entranced by each other. Vanessa grabbed your hands, pulling you over to her bedroom. She pushed you onto her bed, your back hitting the soft mattress. You pushed yourself back until your back hit the headboard, spreading your legs wide for Vanessa.

Her knees hit the mattress, crawling to you and sliding a hand up your clothed thigh. She didn’t waste any time pulling down your pants and panties, eager to touch you. You let out a shaky breath, reaching forward to pull on her blue tie to give her a bruising kiss. “I need you, Vanessa, please.”

Vanessa lowered herself to your heat, tenderly kissing your inner thighs. She could smell you, her mind hazing at the thought of tasting you. She moved the tip of her tongue to enter your cunt, the bittersweet tang on her taste buds. You gasped in pleasure, your sounds becoming more high-pitched as she pushed more of her tongue into you. You gripped her shoulders as she explored your wet heat, swirling and pressing her tongue on your inner walls.

“Oh god, that’s so good,” You murmured. Vanessa’s hands gripped your thighs, squeezing them as she slammed her tongue deeper into you.

“Don’t stop, please.” You cried out in frustration. Erotic and wet noises could be heard as sje lapped on your heat in hunger. Your thighs were quivering and your back arched as you thrust your hips. She was addicted to your taste, picking up the speed of moving her tongue in and out of you.

Your nails sunk deeper into Vanessa’s shoulder, blood beginning to draw out. “I-I’m cumming!” You screamed out, the sound reverberating around the bedroom. Vanessa licked up the remnants, her chin, and nose streaked with your cum.

Your cheeks and ears were flushed red, your chest heaving in deep, ragged breaths. “W-Wow, Vanessa.” You exclaimed, your thighs still quivering from the intense orgasm. “That... That was something.”

[exhuastedpigeon]

Buddie Hiatus Fic Rec - Month 7Nov 16 - Dec 15

0-5k

share this hour of make-believe by fleetinghearts / @shitouttabuck Gen | 1.2k quarantine finds eddie sharing a bed with a pillow-thief and sleep-talker. he minds less than he thinks.

In my defence I was left unsupervised by Spotsandsocks / @spotsandsocks Mature | 1.3k Buck gets bored and decides on a new look, he may have doubts about the end result but Eddie’s having thoughts, interesting thoughts.

moth to a flame by brewrosemilk / @gayhoediaz Teen | 1.7k Eddie’s kiss is so gentle that Buck aches.

coax the cold right out of me by oklahoma / @sunshinediaz Teen | 2.6k “You know,” Eddie begins, running his fingers through Buck’s damp, frizzy curls, “when I booked this cabin for the weekend, I had plans for us to fuck real nasty by the fire.”

I’ll be anybody but me by justhockey Not rated | 3.4k Just one single moment, and his house of cards almost came tumbling down. Buck shouldn’t be surprised though, he’s never been much of a magician; no matter how hard he tries, he’s never been able to make himself disappear.

The spaces in between by sparkles_stars Teen | 4.4k Buck and Eddie get curiously domestic, pine a little, and ultimately - with sweetness and light - get together.

5k-10k

in the rough draft, [s]he loved you by iinryer / @iinryerGeneral audiences | 5.3k during the flight home to LA, eddie tries to write down some things he wants to say to buck

reachin for me (makin love to someone else) by inbetweenthestacks / @organizedstardustExplicit | 8.3k Buck says Eddie’s name while having sex with Natalia.

I wanna spend my forever like that by wikiangela / @wikiangelaGeneral Audience | 8.6k Eddie catches a cold and stubbornly denies he's sick, while a fondly exasperated Buck is trying to take care of him.

Friends Don't by chronicallystendan Teen | 8.7k Eddie and Buck have always been closer than most best friends and it's never bothered them, but lately they've been starting to wonder if there might be more than just friendship between them.

10k-20k

Claxons and Silver Bells by catwalksalone Teen | 10.5k Eddie dies. Only someone, somewhere is willing to give him a second chance. All he has to do is figure out where he went wrong the first time around.

Don't Listen When I Scream by devirnis / @devirnis Mature | 10.9k The man shoves Buck into the chair. Picking a hunting knife up from the tray, he points it at Eddie. “If you fight back or try to escape, I will slit his throat before you can even blink. Understand?”

Why Not Take All of Me? by Daisies_and_Briars / @cal-daisies-and-briars Mature | 13.2k When a small disaster strikes the morning of Maddie and Chimney's wedding, Buck, Hen, and Chim find themselves unwittingly caught up in an emergency across town, while Maddie and Eddie get stuck in an elevator.

it hurts to hope for more by 42hrb Mature | 15.6k Buck wants to be a dad, it takes a couple break-ups and a major non-romantic heartbreak for him to figure out that maybe he already is.

30k +

you still make sense to me by farfromthstars / @buckactuallys Mature | 31.1k eddie is ready for a new relationship – but why does it never feel right? buck has a lot to work through, and doing that comes with a few realizations.

and here, too, am i by Daisies_and_Briars / @cal-daisies-and-briars Teen | 41.1k Six months into their marriage, Eddie is still struggling to decide whether or not he wants more kids, when he knows Buck does. The universe may not scream, but it certainly talks.

Both Blade and Branch by Daisies_and_Briars / @cal-daisies-and-briars Mature | 62.8k The chances of being struck by lightning twice are incredibly minute, but Buck still manages to pull it off. During a double date with Marisol and Natalia, nonetheless. Eddie manages to resuscitate him, but as Buck recovers from yet another trauma, Eddie can’t help but notice there’s something very different about him. He’s not quite sure what version of Buck he got back.

Month 1 (May 15 - June 15) Month 2 (June 16 - July 15) Month 3 (July 16 - August 15) Month 4 (August 16 - September 15) Month 5 (September 16 - October 15) Month 6 (October 16 - November 15)

[the-curse-of-neoclones]

Moderneopets Artist Mistreatment

Edit as of 11/16/23 10:40 AM NST:

Removed names where I failed to do so before. I'm very sorry to the affected parties, this snowballed so far out of my intended scope.

Edit as of 11/16/23 5:30 PM NST

Please see this post for a small update.

As of 11/16/23 10:10 PM NST, Hazer the site owner has formally and publicly apologized to myself and Velu, the other affected artist. As far as I'm concerned he has officially handled the situation as best as he could, and I hold no further qualms with Moderneopets. I hope to hear of its management continuing in this direction.

The following post is left up for archival purposes only.

*****

Hello, I’m wren. I'm an artist responsible for some of the pet assets on the neoclone, Moderneopets. I'm just going to get into it.

Hazer was extremely lucky to somehow cultivate a dense group of largely professional artists to work together to make assets for his site. When it comes to his own management as a site runner, he’s largely hands-off of the art department, which is a good thing! If he can’t be active in the art panel enough to know what goes on in there, he shouldn’t be running it— we have many strong, capable artists on the team who are passionate about recreating the neopets style, who work together on every pet that has been released ever since critique became a requirement. 

It makes sense that, with a project this large, Hazer should have to designate moderators to enforce rules when he is absent. Choosing to bring on moderators was also a good decision. Unfortunately, he chose poorly. 

Art panel issues should have separate Art panel moderators to take care of them. People who are not overburdened with generic moderation duties from the many other channels of the server, for example. In the same vein, artists should not be moderators. When an artist has an issue with another artist, who happens to be a moderator (which has happened many times, with many people— If the mods actually open threads for all complaints they receive, they should have evidence of this & if they don’t they are not being truthful), the artist would likely not feel comfortable approaching that same artist-slash-moderator to complain about what happened. It breeds an aura of fear and discomfort any time there is an issue with an artist/mod, and that is why the two moderators on the team should have to choose one or the other if hazer wants to cultivate a healthy atmosphere in his panel. 

I’ve created many pets for this website. Neopets has been a passion of mine since the third grade. I’m also one of those professional artists I mentioned— my work is also art, industry or otherwise. I care about breaking neopets down into their core, recognizable shapes. I care about keeping them on-model and in the spirit of the original TNT art team, with improvements made where I and the other panelists think they make sense. I have redlined for other artists to an even greater degree, just as other artists have redlined for me and helped me finalize each pet into something simply good: something that made sense to get put on a little passion project website for other people with a similar passion to enjoy. I found the panel to be a community of likeminded artists with which to discuss our favorite childhood petsite while we made art for a clone, as if we could pretend we were making art for neopets-dot-com. It was nice. 

It wasn’t perfect, though. In fact, shortly after I joined in 2021 I took a hiatus because the art panel was fairly dead. I came back a little while later to see we had several new species, as well as an art director, and lots of activity! That was very exciting. Over the next year I would reach out to the panel or, if nobody was sure of how to proceed, I would reach out to the art director to propose ideas for how to make the panel a little more functional; quality of life updates, if you will. I don’t take credit for all of these alone, there were other artists with similar ideas all communicating to the director in private, but some examples: 

A designated “collab” zone where artists could seek out other artists to complete pets with. 

“The Purge,” in which the team was whittled down to ~25 current, active artists to refresh the team and allow for new artists to join. 

“The Approval System,” which I first sat down with in my workshop (public to all artists) to hammer out the details with as many other artists as wanted to give their input— a method for pitching new ideas to eventually break through the “new species/color freeze” that had been plaguing us.

Speaking on the approval system: like most things that required Hazer’s direct input in the art team, it was left without response for a very long time. Artists with ideas for custom species or colors would occasionally murmur about their excitement for the system to get a look-over by hazer, to see if our approval system pitch would be approved. But hazer is busy, as we all know, and the pitch sat for a while. We had new & returning artists on the team to keep everyone busy. 

What I would expect from a years-old panel of artists, when new additions arrive, would be some manner of tutorial. New artists would need to know the pipeline (here’s your workshop, you can post WIPs and anything else in there; here’s how you ping for critique, here are the spaces in which to ask for it; make sure you always ping before your work is submitted on-site), and there would likely be some acclimating on both sides. What I did not expect (but should have), was pushback from new artists on things that hadn’t had pushback in a long time. Why can’t [x] color be a posechange? Well, we’ve created many already and none of them were posechanges. Why can’t I use colored lineart? Well, that isn’t in line with the style standards set by this color; see, nobody else is coloring their lineart. 

Suddenly there was a divide between veteran artists, the director, and the new blood. The divide felt greater when Hazer came to his new artist’s aid to say, approximately: “Eh, if someone wants to go above and beyond and make better art, they shouldn’t have to adhere to the guidelines.” Then he threw the art director under the bus for not somehow knowing that his intentions were always to keep the panel loose and unstructured. But don’t worry, that isn’t the first bus and won’t be the last.

My personal investment in the panel waned around that time. I think a structured “work” environment with easily accessible rules and deadlines is necessary to any project of this size. If we didn’t want to enforce color standards, nor prioritize certain colors for release, and anyone could just submit whatever Nice Art they wanted, why not open it up so any user could submit pet art? Why have a panel at all? Isn’t Hazer taking any opportunity to dunk on Leopets because he wants his site to be better? How is this different? 

But I stuck around. This was a hobby I really enjoyed, after all, and I really believed it could get better. It had a good core, and despite my grievances with individual artists, none of them were bad people. 

But I noticed some trends. New artists would receive feedback that they didn’t agree with and retaliate by bringing in their emotions or personal preferences. Any disagreement where multiple veteran artists stepped in to say their piece would escalate to the point of very long messages on both sides, and would need to be left to hazer to give a final input. Often he didn’t come around to it, because he’s busy, as we know. I didn’t step in to every argument; they became cyclical after a while, and I didn’t have the time or energy to spend simply tapping the proverbial sign (or style sheet). I would try to give positive suggestions when I could, for example: I don’t think this color needs another alt for just one single design, but we did talk about eventually making this color that your design would fit into really well. 

I’ve done my time having arguments on the internet. I really just want an art environment where the rules are set and people actually enjoy following them, because I do— I see art rules as helpful guidelines at best and obstacles to cleverly navigate at worst, which is still fun. But of course not everyone is going to feel the same way, that’s normal; that’s life. 

On 11/9 I was given this message by Hazer: 

It reads:

Hello wren,

I am reaching out to you today to inform you that effective immediately you are being dismissed from the Artist and Consultant Panels. This decision has been reached through discussions and based on repeated offences in the form of user harassment and subjecting the panels to a toxic atmosphere, after multiple reports and concerns brought up to us by other users.

While we understand concerns regarding panel management, there is a distinct difference between criticising and condeming the way the panel does things and criticising and condeming users that are on the panel, and we believe this line has been crossed one too many times, further supported by concerns brought to us.

We appreciate the passion and drive of our team—all of them—and we understand you have been very passionate about the panel. Given some of the messages we see, we have also concluded that due to things in the panel not working out as you have wished, it has caused you much stress and upset as well, which we do not want. All in all, we've decided that the atmosphere of the panel and your own enjoyment of the website are hampered by your presence on it. Because of this, we have decided it is best to have you part ways with the staff sections of the website.

Effective immediately after this message, we will be permanently removing you from the panels. While normally we do a temporary removal, in this case we've seen that your compatability with our management and handling of the panel will not improve, and it will just bring stress to both sides.

We understand you have put a lot of passion into the projects you have been working on for release in Moderneopets, and in lieu of that, we offer you the option of having the project(s) still be released even after dismissal. Rewards will still be granted for releases per usual, and credit will still be given. If you decide, due to dismissal, you do not want your unreleased work to be released on Moderneopets, simply state it as such, and we will discard all progress on projects you have been working on to respect those wishes.

This decision is final and will not be revoked.

Best wishes to you,

The Moderneopets Team

[end caption]

My response:

It reads: 

No warnings huh?

[end caption]

Hazer didn’t have an answer for me. I was already removed from the panel. 

This came as a shock. I’d been there for over two years, I felt I had a good rapport with the other artists, I felt I’d been a helpful and active addition to the team. Like I said, I’ve done my time having arguments on the internet… what toxic behavior? Discussions over style guides? Giving redlines to people with permission? Working with the whole team to bolster several new color releases? I had an entire species that Hazer wanted ready to go since March— I just pushed through the Swamp Gas release, I just created the Mystical alt? 

No warnings?

Let me reiterate: I have never been spoken to by any staff about my behavior. Hazer, his then-four moderators— none of them have ever been in my DMs to issue a warning. I have spoken TO the mods about others’ behaviors, and nothing ever came of it. The one time (and I mention this for full transparency only) the art director came to talk to me about something I said, it was stated clearly that it was not a warning, and even so I adjusted my behavior around said issue accordingly. And that was well before the purge. 

But, don’t take my word for it. Here it is from hazer himself, speaking over his mods who were busy telling the rest of the panel that they always issue warnings: 

It reads:

No in this case I do agree that this has been an abrupt situation and I understand the blind-sided-ness of it. No official warnings were given out regarding the actions that resulted in the removal of artists today and that’s on fault of myself and deebs not working things out properly despite the moderation team bringing issues to a us a few times – also due to our lack of availability recently.  [end caption]

So… What happened? Well… here it is from Hazer, in longform: 

For those who use screen readers, above are several enormous discord screenshots; I've placed it in a paste bin here: https://pastebin.com/dHLiBRTF

Two other artists immediately stepped down. Hazer admits here in his message that he and the mods had multiple tickets opened about my behavior, that they had known they wanted to remove me. They never gave a warning, never talked to me until the moment of my dismissal, but they had known it was coming for months? 

Why did Hazer and his gang of mods let me continue working on art for their panel? Why did they let me work so hard to pull Swamp Gas together for an official release? Why did they let me put together a whole custom Alt and workshop it for so long? I’ve been active this whole time. Why did you let me keep working if you knew you wanted me gone? 

I am a professional artist. My work is art. Hazer made the knowing decision to exploit my time and effort for his website. He’s not paying me, he’s not paying any of us. It’s volunteer work. But I did not volunteer to be mistreated like this. To not even be given a chance to defend myself. To him, artists are disposable. To him, if someone has worked on your team for years but speaks up when your friend tries to overturn the system, even civil discussion is cause for disposal. Civil discussion negates years of effort, passion, time and care. 

I didn’t have to make art for you, Hazer. And you don’t deserve the team you have. How many artists have voiced their discomfort with your actions? How many artists are taking a break from the panel because of how you handled this? Ah, wait, you wouldn’t know… you’re busy. 

Hazer and his mod team are just another corrupt group of individuals unfortunately heading what could have been a fun and promising petsite. Everyone who speaks praise of modneo does it by and large because of the new and unique art. Hazer was extremely lucky to cultivate a dense group of largely professional artists to work together to make assets for his site. 

If Hazer wants to show any sign of his potential to be a better person, I believe he needs to formally apologize to his site for the misuse of his power and the mistreatment and exploitation of artists on his team. He needs to apologize to you, the players of his game, the subscribers to his patreon, for allowing this to happen under his watch and under his word. You know you fucked up, hazer. You shouldn’t have sided with your friend without any actual evidence of misconduct. You shouldn’t have spoken about me like I was a toxic, subhuman hindrance to your art team. You shouldn’t have treated me like that. I didn’t deserve it. None of us did. You can apologize to me and the other lost artists publicly.

[jjkeverlast]

vex | kth

-> pairing best friend!tae x f.reader

-> genre smut (basically pwp tbh)

-> summary vex: make (someone) feel annoyed, frustrated, or worried, especially with trivial matters.

-> word count 1.5k

-> warnings reader gets turned on by tae getting pissed lmfao, choking, no protection (y'all know the drill), intoxication (i mean they're both mildly drunk but it's very consensual!), a lot of bickering in the beginning and i think that's it??? OH WAIT- tae in a suit... ;)

-> author's note LISTEN. i am very much on hiatus from writing and i should make this clear that i wrote this back in april for @pjiminbloomx so it's been accumulating dust and i stumbled upon it earlier and with jyads consent, she told me i could upload it. and i should say, i wrote this for her, so if this fic isn't of your taste that's completely fine! or else, i hope you enjoy this taehyung porn while i continue being a good student and do my studies :0

You shouldn’t be as wet as you are while watching Taehyung infuriorisily grip his hair and let out a puff of air, his face screaming he’s pissed. 

You’re pissed as well, after Taehyung left you in the middle of the street as you both walked back to the hotel after the party. Hobi’s party to be exact. You had lost your dangly earring and instead of Taehyung waiting, like the good friend he is, he decided to continue and leave you completely stranded alone in the night. Returning back to your shared hotel room you threw a tantrum, seeing red over his behavior from earlier. 

‘’Fuck you, there was no reason for you to leave me alone!’’ You jab your finger in his chest, all while your core is basically dripping under your dress. Taehyung’s tongue is poking on the inside of his cheek, holding himself back from throwing yet another excuse. It was downright wrong of him to leave you, when you both planned to walk back home together. 

The earring was found not long later by Jungkook, still being at the party making you return to the lobby only for Taehyung to have disappeared when you walked out. 

‘’Y/N, you can’t possibly still be pissed.’’ He’s not looking at you, instead turning his back for you to see and taking his suit off slowly. 

‘’Can’t you simply apologize? That’s all I need from you rather than a shitty ass excuse.’’ You cross your arms, wanting to desperately take off your heels after they’ve destroyed your feet from dancing all night. 

He scoffs, turning as he undoes his tie — something you found very hot in a guy, and especially Tae — it’s hard to stay focused as he’s biting his bottom lip while angrily taking his tie off in front of you. You’re imagining yourself doing it for him as you kiss down his neck and —

‘’Fuck you.’’ He smiles sheepishly, fading quickly as he returns to undoing the top buttons of his white pressed shirt. 

‘’With you? I’d rather not.’’ You look away, not noticing the smirk that forms on Taehyung’s face as he sits on one of the hotel beds. 

‘’Yeah? So you’re telling me you’re not wet under that dress right now?’’ Fuck. He’s onto you. 

‘’No.’’ 

‘’Prove it.’’ His smirk is standing tall, his eyes roaming your body and you start questioning if it’s the alcohol or actually Taehyung speaking — or rather him tempting you. 

Your boldness surely is above the roof, your anger getting the worst out of you, so you lift your dress casually. Revealing the emerald thong, stained badly with your arousal. 

Taehyung licks his lips before getting up, standing so close you could smell the faint tequila from his breath. It’s definitely the alcohol. 

‘’You’re such a dirty girl. Getting all turned on while seeing me pissed off. Is this fun to you?’’ You try your best to hide the grin settling itself behind your lips, threatening to spill. 

‘’What if it is?’’ He’s officially tired of your bullshit, pressing his hand on your neck softly to catch your attention — almost breath — and pushing you against the wall. He doesn’t hesitate to bite your lip, his teeth nibbling on the soft flesh from your lips as he adds a satisfied grunt to finally getting a taste of them. 

‘’Then I’ll fuck you till you think otherwise.’’ You don’t get to respond, Taehyung’s lips already molding against yours, his tongue playing with it. Fuck he kisses you good, your cunt tightening as his tongue runs above yours and his hands now cupping your face. He’s officially lost all his patience with you, he’s been nothing but patient with wanting to take things slow with you only for you to ruin it by being a brat. 

You give him a taste of his own medicine, tightening a grip in his hair, making him moan in delight in your mouth. Your heart beats rapidly hearing the angelic moan and you continue, running your fingers through his dark locks. 

‘’Fuck this, come here.’’ Taehyung guides you towards the bed, hovering above you, his hands now fondling with your breasts — fingers pinching your nipples through the fabric of your dress making you whine as you become more desperate for the cock that’s growing harder against your thigh. 

He’s such a mess, a mess because of you. Losing all control, letting himself do whatever he’s been wanting to do since you’ve grown closer. He can’t stop thinking about all the times he’s wondered to himself when he’ll finally be able to get a taste of you, your mouth, your pussy. And now? He’s getting all of it. 

His mouth runs all over your neck to your shoulders and longer down before you stop him and pull him up, your fingers having a hold in his nape. 

‘’It can wait, I just need you, please.’’ Tae would normally grow angry at such a demand, but hearing you beg for his cock sent a rush through him and immediately got him to work on getting his belt off. 

Your hands come to help, buckling the belt undone for him while planting kisses on his neck as he sighs softly by the touch of your tongue. 

With his belt, pants and soon briefs off, he’s back to kissing you. His hand running along your form and tracing his fingers above the fabric of your thong. ‘’Fuck you’re so wet.’’ He grins, moving the thong to the side now circling his thumb on your clit earning a gasp from you. 

‘’Yeah? Is that what you want?’’ You hum in approval, grabbing a hold of his erection hiding beneath his briefs, now pumping him as he groans against your mouth. 

‘’Look at you — mmm — being so needy for me.’’ He doesn’t waste another minute, fully removing his briefs and guiding himself towards your entrance. 

It’s a good stretch, filling you up nicely as he pushes longer in being content with how warm you feel around him. When you’ve adjusted to him, confirming with a nod he starts rolling against your core causing friction in every part of your body. 

His pace is rough and slow, letting you feel just how deep he’s filling you and you’re sent into overdrive. Taehyung continues as you both pant — foreheads pressed against each other. He loves seeing you like this, hair sprawled messily on the sheets, body growing hot against him as you slip out a moan or two when he grazes your g-spot. 

He continues to do so, your orgasm reaching slowly as you encourage him to continue. Taehyung dives his head in between your breasts, kissing every inch of you — he has a weakness for them. 

His touch is ecstatic. Running wild and free all over your body. His hands hold tight onto your waist as his tongue continues to make contact with every part of you it can reach. 

His pace continues, both of your bodies now moving in sync as you grind your cunt as close as possible. As if it’s possible to be closer than you already are. You’ve wanted this for as long as you remember. Although it never occurred that the unholy thoughts that roamed your brain, roamed his as well. 

He makes you so weak, yet he fills you up to the point you become powerful. Strong. Heartily. And you never want this moment to end. 

His chest is already turning warmer against your skin. The soft sensation sending your mind somewhere you never thought you’d reach. It’s something uncommon but it feels good. So fucking good. 

‘’Tae—’’ You warn, your body tensing as your orgasm is at the brim of release. 

‘’Let go, come on baby.’’ The nickname hits the last straw for you, covering his cock completely in your arousal. 

Taehyung watches how you fall apart under him. Your whole body tensing under his touch as he grows dizzy. He’s close as well but your moans only keep him on edge to continue until it’s impossible to do so.

There’s never been a moment where he hasn’t wanted you like this. Naked and warm. Mouth apart as soft moans escape your parted lips and his name inserting itself between them. 

You have such an effect on him. Maybe it’s because the possibility of even being inside you seemed out of the question. 

You. So real, so perfect. 

When you start to encourage him to fill you up, his cock starts to twitch as he picks up the slow pace into a much faster one. He wants to accomplish everything for you. 

Breath quickening as beads of sweat form onto his forehead, covering his dark locks slowly, you run your lips over his again. Swallowing the groan with your mouth that’s about to leave his lips right before a common feeling washes over every part of him. 

Not long after, Taehyung’s pace slows as he pushes his final thrust and paints your walls with his cum. His body stills above you. Enjoying the warmth that still covers his cock. 

You give a slight peck, a smile forming on your lips right after as you look at each other in silence. 

Trying your best to catch your breaths, you speak. ‘’Guess I should piss you off more often.’’ 

‘’Shut up.’’ 

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© jjkeverlast 2022 [do not copy, translate or repost any of my works]

[sanjisblackasswife]

hello, would it be possible for you to do a Sanji with a virgin woman if you have the time? Thanks a lot !:D

A/N: I love doing virgin content! (Does that sound weird??? Lol but we need more of it!:)) tysm for requesting! Hope u enjoy!

Also I made this one super long as a thank for for 500 Followers in less than 2 weeks omg AMAZINGGG thank u all sm :)🤍🤍🤍

“Prettiest Thing I’ve Ever Seen” Experienced!Sanji x Virgin! Fem Reader (FLUFF/NSFW)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

Bad Summary: Feeling embarrassed about beinging the only one who’s haven’t even kissed a guy before. Sanji finds out and reassures you that it’s nothing wrong with waiting for the right one.

CW: A bit of a slow burn, Virgin! (She can also be implied as a bit Chubby ) Reader, Experienced!Sanji, A Bit of angst, Oral, Alotta of kissing and reassuring, Reader hesitates a lot, Vaginal sex, Blood, Love Confessing, Lotta fluff and a bit of Aftercare,

(Also, there is very vague shaming of being a virgin. Let me just say that there is nothing wrong with being an adultlt virgin. That whole “late bloomer” stuff is bull and you shouldn’t feel pressured to lose it to anybody, once you get a certain age, or especially if you’re not ready. It doesn’t make you any less of a woman or man if you’re in your 20s, 30s or 40s and still haven’t had sex it’s okay. My mum always said be the one everybody wants and can’t have, than the one everybody has already have.)

-

“The asshole didn’t even let me finish! Ugh. “ Vivi groaned taking another sip of her drink.

“You should have charged him for your time at least.” Nami suggested making you all chuckle at her typical response.

You all were finishing up a 3 days celebration with Vivi and to end the party you all decided have a moment to unwind and get to know each other more. Chopper went to bed early so Vivi insisted you all play a little drinking game to REALLY expose some facts about yourselves.

Everybody went around talking about their worst hook up during the 2 year hiatus and it actually shocked you how much experience your crew mates had gotten as they grew older.

“Even YOU Luffy?!” Vivi laughed as you all were dumbfounded that your 19 year old clumsy captain managed to lose his virginity.

“Well yeah I don’t really remember much of it though. She didn’t feel that great.” Luffy shrugged leaning his body on you fiddling with his fingers recalling the forgettable night. “It kinda just happened just before I left training with Rayleigh…”

You chuckled taking another sip looking away at the sea as the Sunny was still docked and ready for tomorrow’s departure. You didn’t get to meet anybody while training. If you were being really honest though, you couldn’t.

You probably had one of the best transformations out of the entire crew managing to lose over 40 pounds. You still had some fluff on you considering you were naturally a relatively big girl, but you still looked amazing & Everybody even seen you in a new light. Your hidden curves popped, your breast didn’t grow much but they were beautiful and supple, the only thing was you still didn’t lose much of your face fat so your chubby cheeks still remained.

It was a process trying to gain the confidence after losing weight. You’ve heard every insult in the book from men so trying to get into a relationship felt impossible.

“What about you y/n? Got any wild nights with any guys? You probably have with that smoking new body of yours.” Nami teased making you all giggle except yourself. You were a little self conscious to reveal that you couldn’t get anybody to come back to spend a night of passion or even just a quick fuck so you awkwardly scratched your head.

All eyes were on you ready to spill, especially a certain blonde taking a puff out of his cigarettes across from you gazing at you calmly waiting for your response

“N-no…none of my stories are interesting…I didn’t really have time t—-“

“What do you mean you didn’t have time! You look amazing! I know so many guys were all up on you—“

“Or was it girls, Y/N-San?” Robin crossed her legs across from you. Everybody except Sanji who was having a nose bleed at the thought “oooh”d and “aaah”d wanting to hear the spicy details of that night

“Oh No, haha I’m straight, but…I mean..one girl was interested but—NO! I didn’t sleep with any girls! Change the subject! Zoro—!?”

“What about me?” He turned his head back at you mid sip. “It was only a couple girls I met, but it wasn’t a big deal.”

“Those poor women…” Sanji sighed with disgust on his face before taking another hit to his cigarette.

You giggled at Sanji’s response while playing in Luffy’s hair after he fell asleep on your lap. When you heard that Sanji has slept with a few women (granted 2 of them were from brothels) you were a bit shocked. I mean you all are pirates and pirates do—-that kinda stuff. It had you wonder as well if he was a good lover? Did he bleed on them? Was he good with his tongue perhaps?

You know what no that’s nasty to see your crew mate in that way.

The rest of the conversation went on, but you decided to turn it in and head to your room for the remainder of the night since you wanted to wake up early to shop before leaving tomorrow.

You started journaling the past 2 years, at first it was to keep track of your weight, but now it has become something you enjoyed when you wanted to express yourself.

So, You were showered and ready for bed, but you wanted to include a bit more in your notes before heading to sleep;

“….and I felt so embarrassed not telling my friends that I couldn’t even get a guy to like me. Hell I never even kissed a guy before. I guess me losing this weight didn’t help much….I mean it’s whatever but man EVERYBODY got a little sum sum except me? I mean what’s wrong with me? I guess I’ll just stay a virgin…how pathetic…”

You heard a knock at your door, “Come in.” Your desk was right next to the door so you didn’t have to call out. It was Sanji peaking his head in with a cup. “Oh, hey Sanji.”

“Hello, my love you look stunning as usual!” He chirped walking in closing the door behind him to lean on. “I just wanted to know if I can add some stuff to the grocery list you had if that’s okay. I can give you some berries too.”

“Oh sure you can. Let me get it for you.” You took off your glasses (ignore this if your don’t wear em)to get up from your seat without thinking and walked over to your nightstand. “Just give me a second…”

He hummed admiring your body for a moment, how snug your sleep shorts were cupping your butt, and how you still don’t wear anything except that, some socks, and a bra before bed. It was so cute to him how your small rolls poked out from the side. He took a sip of his tea and noticed your journal from his peripheral.

“Hm?” Sanji tilted his head to read your last journey entry and his eyes widened. YOU really never kissed a guy?! No way! Is that why you were so awkward tonight? He thought maybe it was an old paragraph but seeing the date at the top confirmed you had just wrote it. He mindlessly kept reading further down reading your journal, but had to stop himself after realizing he was completely invading your privacy.

“Here you go!” Your eyes quickly shifted to your opened book of secrets and for a moment you nearly panicked but you seen Sanji just smiling leaning on the door. “This is the um…the list…you can give it to me in the morning.”

Sanji had a tiny of pink on his face as you approached him trying to play off him snooping through your business. You looked down to close it and place the journal inside your desk drawer.

“Thank you, Y/n.” He said calmly patting your head before heading out. “Sweet dreams.”

“Yeah…” you hoped Sanji didn’t read anything. The book was right beside him. You sighed heavily going to lay on your bed.

How were you supposed to sleep now if he knew your embarrassing secret?

-

The next day as you went shopping with the others Sanji couldn’t get you out of his mind. You really felt that way? You still don’t feel beautiful? Why was it so bad that you were still a virgin? You’re in your 20s there’s nothing wrong with that. But he understood your feeling. He sometimes regrets losing his virginity to some random woman. The night wasn’t passionate, there was no love into it, and it was really just the heat of the moment because he wanted to rid of himself of being a virgin.

He sometimes wish he would have lost it to someone like you.

Someone beautiful, caring, sweet, charming, so so soft, and just his type.

You and Sanji were of course friends, but you never actually had one on one time with him. It was were few moments it was only the both of you traveling in a pair but you both usually ended up fighting some enemies you encountered so there wasn’t much casual talk. He thought about maybe using this new go round to get to know you more. Maybe show you that none of those other assholes that denied you of love were worth it.

“NAMMIIIII ROBINNNNNN! HERE ARE YOUR DRINKS!” Sanji swirled to the women lounging on the deck as the ship set sail.

You finally came back out of your room wearing a pretty white short dress. You usually never wore them but you felt a bit warm and wanted to relax a bit.

“Y/N you look stunning in that dress.” Robin complimented taking the drink away from Sanji who in turn gave you big heart eyes. You sparkled in perspective, your legs looks so beautiful, your curves were more than enough, you looked like a Queen.

“Oh. Thank you.” You giggles holding the bottom of the dress. “I got this for my 23rd birthday but never got a chance to wear it.”

“Oooooh did a guy get you that?” Nami said smiling sipping her beverage. You did an awkward laugh of course not wanting to say the entire truth that you got it for yourself for a date but got stood up.

“N-no I did.”

“Y/NNNNN!” Sanji spun to you down on one knee holding the empty tray in one hand. “Please do me the honor of coming to the kitchen with me my love!”

You nodded shyly and took his arm to the kitchen, he pulled out the chair for you, “Thank you.”

He smiled before walking to the fridge and handing you a generous slice of cake.

“Oh! This cake is so pretty! What’s the occasion?” You looked up at him as he scooped out some off the cold spoon.

“Well…Your Birthday was a week before we all reunited and so I wanted to still celebrate it with you. Open.”

It was your favorite flavor! Did he really remember when you told him that 2 YEARS ago? It was just a brief little fact you told him without thought. You opened your mouth for him to feed you and the cake practically melted on your tongue, he executed it so perfectly.

“This was so good, Sanji.” You giggled licking your finger before reaching out to hug him. “Thank you. You didn’t have to.”

Sanji hummed and blushed smelling how sweet you were your fluffy arms around his neck felt so comfortable almost like a pillow.

He wondered if your whole body felt like that

“Oh anything for you, my love! I’ll do anything to make you smile!” His typical love eyes popped out smiling at you.

“I guess I had a good reason to wear this dress”.

“And you looking stunning in it, y/n! It fits you perfectly! If we weren’t in the sea I would have taken you out on the town to show off how gorgeous you look!”

You breathed out your nose looking down at the half eaten cake closely chewing. Sanji meant no harm by what he said of course but it just reminded you that on your birthday a guy you did really like was supposed to take you out with that dress but stood you up.

Sanji noticed your face change immediately and calmed down from his proclaims to sit beside you, “You okay? What’s wrong?”

You held your lips shaking your head, your stomach suddenly felt weighed, as delicious as the cake was you couldn’t finish it. You really felt kinda pathetic thinking back to all the times you were made a fool by men you liked.

“Hey…” Sanji quickly grazed his thumb on your cheek. You didn’t even noticed a tear escaped and it made you upset. Why the hell were you crying? “I-I’m sorry if I said anything wrong I—“

“No I—-I’m sorry. I’ll finish the rest of the cake later I just…have to go really quick, Sanji.”

Your voice choked out at the last few words making you grunt in annoyance. Sanji didn’t even have time to finish what he had to say before you stormed out the kitchen holding your face.

“Y/N…”

You were in your room crying softly so nobody could hear from the other side. It sucked feeling so insecure even after weight loss. Even after getting stronger. It just didn’t seem enough.

“Y/N…you in there, love?”

“I um…” you hand stopped it self from opening the door. Should you let him in? What if Sanji laughs about your issues. They were silly. Even though that would be completely unlike him. Sanji cared about all his friends feelings and yours was never an exception. you guess he wasn’t too bad considering he didn’t even wait 5 minutes before coming after you.

You sighed and prayed that if you let him in he doesn’t make you feel more worse than you already are because you were tired of holding these feelings. You slowly opened the door sniffling giving him a fake grin, “Sorry I le—“

Sanji wasted no time coming in to hug you. When you stormed out he recalled your actions when Nami talked about your dress, when you were asked questions last night, and from what he read in your journal it clicked. Something must have had happened on your birthday.

“It’s okay, Y/N.” He kissed your ear to then get a clear look at your tear stained face. “You can talk to me.”

Your chubby cheeks were being slightly smushed by Sanji’s cold soft hands and looking into his eyes. He looked more genuine than you’ve seen in a while which is probably why you started crying more in his hands.

“Come here let’s talk.” He shut and locked your door and guided you to your bed. You just wanted another hug for right now and once you sat on the edge with him you couldn’t help but to rest your face in his neck, staining his collar. “It’s okay, Love.”

It was a comfortable silence until you sighed, “During training I met some guys…but they all didn’t like me. So for a while I just focused on getting better fighting and then after the weight loss…I met a guy…and he was really sweet so I thought maybe he was someone I could be with. But me being an idiot I believed what he said when he told me he wanted to take me out. He wanted to do it for my birthday so I…bought this dress, and waited for him for 2 hours, but I found out I was just a bet to see how easy I was to falls for his lies.” You pulled back from Sanji’s embrace to wiped your eyes, “He said he’d rather sleep on a train track than he caught seen with me.” You lightly chuckled trying to ignore the pain raising up inside you. You laughed alone though. Sanji was furious at such an asshole talking to you that way and taking advantage of your kindness . It was absurd?! Why do that to a woman? Or anybody for that matter?!

“I’m still a virgin…” You confessed before looking at his furrowed face. “I never kissed a guy. Never went on a date with one. I don’t even think I held hands with one, haha…sad, right?….I know romance shouldn’t be our focus right now but…I don’t know….I at least want to be desired… I see how men look at Nami and Robin and it sucks because they turn to me and think ‘Why the hell would they have that kinda girl on their c—-“

“Stop it.”

His voice was stern which made you look back at him as your fake smiled faded. He almost looked like he was about to cry too, but he shook his head in disappointment instead.

“Stop repeating those things about yourself like those assholes were right. They were not, true. None of it was or is. You’re not..you’re not —-“

Sanji wish he could find the correct words, but somehow they failed to come out, so he grabbed your hands. His thumbs rubbed against your skin, you looked back up and next thing your know Sanji’s nose was touching yours.

You don’t tend to feel hot in the cheeks but your face felt hot all over.

“You’re not that. Even before you loss the weight you were so….breath taking.” It was almost like something clicked in Sanji. Remembering his time with you, how funny you were, how careless you were willing to put your life on the line for all of them, how selfless you were as well, and he even remembered the nights he would hear you cry behind your bedroom door. He didn’t know why but he always suspected maybe it was from the men he had to beat up because they made fun of your weight.

Sanji always found you beautiful. He just wished he would have told you then. His eyes were almost reflective of the sun setting through your window, he cigarette long gone and on the floor looking into your pretty doe eyes.

He leaned in slowly nearly attaching his lips to yours until you whispered, “You don’t have to feel sympathy for me…”

He stopped, lips just barely over yours and he sat back slightly embarrassed clearing his throat.

“N-no! It’s not sympathy I really….I really feel this way…Y/N I…I should have told you before but..I love you.”

You blinked, his voice wasn’t flirtatious, his eyes weren’t filled with his typical hearts, he genuinely meant what he said. It nearly scared you see how serious Sanji was.

“I love you and…I want to..I wanta….I want to show you it….”

He intertwined his hands with yours, and you let out an airy giggle, “You’re my first hand hold with a guy.”

He matched the same laugh, “Im glad…can I…be your first kiss too?”

Your heart started to nearly beat through your chest for the first time in a long time you felt butterflies AND AROUND SANJI TOO. You always was flattered by him. He was so sweet and charming but you never felt flustered. It was a new kinda feeling and you liked it a lot.

“Y-yes…”

He scooted closer and you closed your eyes. Your lips were parted for a short while feeling Sanji’s warm breath feel closer, you were shaking in anticipation until you felt a weight on your mouth. It was a still kiss.

Sanji didnt Move. He knew you never done this so he wanted you to get the rhythm right. The kiss made you grab ahold of his hand tighter until he opened his eyes.

“Like it?” His voice was hopeful, comforting really, your kids slowly opened to his Pinked out cheeks. It was so cute. Seeing him like this.

“Mmhm.” You nodded sucking your bottom lip to still try and taste him on you, “yeah I really liked it….can you teach me more?”

“Y-yeah! We can absolutely!” Sanji was relieved seeing you be so vulnerable with him. He leaned forward into you holding your chin now and moved his lips. You struggled to follow his motions for a second but he slowed down and allowed you to get a steady pace with him.

It didn’t take much time until you laid back not detaching from him. He got a little more firm with his lips, placing his hand just shy on your wide thigh. His fingers rubbed your fluffy skin so gentle and with care you barely noticed his hand up your dress which overwhelmed you for a moment so you pushed him back softly.

“I um…”

“You okay? Did I hurt you?” The panic and concern in his voice thinking he made you uncomfortable was ironically comforting.

“N-no I just…—“

“I’m sorry, love we don’t have to further this…I dont—“

“No…I want it….I want you to…be my…—-“

“I want you to take my virginity, Sanji.”

You mentally cringed at your words but what the hell do you say? You could see his adams Apple bob from the harsh gulp. He never taken a woman’s virginity and it’s YOURS so he wanted it to be perfect.

“Okay..” He breathed with that special smile, it was a rare one he barely did but it was so cute because it showed the faint dimples he had. “But listen to me…Y/N…if at any point your want me to stop just tell me okay? I want us to be safe..okay?”

“Okay, Sanji…can you um…well can you kiss me a little more ?”

You were so fucking cute to him right now.

He laid you back down to continue and this new go your kisses weren’t as shy. Sanji was able to move his lips how he wanted, “You’re a faster learner, sweetheart.”

You blushed, he kept kissing you and squeezed your thigh to get a reaction out of you and you felt embarrassed doing so arching your back, but Sanji didn’t care he just glided his tongue in your mouth to hear you moan more.

“Mm..” you hummed in his mouth. His touches became more confident moving up your dress again and rubbing his thumb on what feels like a thong and in turn made Sanji’s cock twitch at the thought.

“You’re so sensitive.” He whispered.

“Is that bad?”

“No! No! That’s perfect…just means you’ll feel even more.”

You wanted to question what he meant but he kissed your neck making you breathe out sharply.

“‘M ganna take these Off okay?” He tugged at your panties.

“I…wait…can you tak—“

“You want me to take mine off first?” He was already unbuttoning his shirt off the bed asking so you just said yes.

He stripped down and you mindlessly began to rub your thighs together waiting in anticipation. You never seen a guy naked before (except Luffy that one time) but this was different.

“Okay..” He pulled down his boxers to show his semi-hard cock. It looked huge, granted though you never had anything to reference it from , you chewed your lip nervously looking up and down his lean yet chiseled body, he had a very nice built for a slim looking guy, “You okay?”

“Mmhm…. You’re very …pretty.”

Sanji chuckled at your shyness, it’s a different view on you, but he moved closer to kiss you again and cupped your cheeks.

“You wanna go now?” He asked on your lips. You nodded again and stood up, he helped you out of your dress and your underwear, but you rushed to cover your body, you had many scars from past battles including some stretch marks. You were prepared to see Sanji look disgusted but when you looked up from having your bra thrown to the grown his eyes were enamored it was almost as if he found the All Blue.

“You’re gorgeous.” Was all he whispered at you before he laid you down. He continued to kiss you again, a little bit more sloppily than the first few times, internally he became impatient but he knew he wanted to savor this moment with you.

“Sanji…” you moaned feeling him nip and kiss at your neck, one of his hands were slowly pulling your arms off your breast to fondle them. “Sanji!”

“You are really sensitive…it’s cute.” He kissed your ear. “Tell me when to stop okay? You can do that for me right, my love?”

Something about his soft gaze and reassertion to your pleasure made you clench, it was attractive.

“Y-yes.”

“Good Girl.” He winked at you lowering his head down to your breast. “All of you is so beautiful…”

He sucked and licked his tongue all around your erect nipples. You hissed at the new wet contact on your body and suddenly felt his hand intertwine with yours.

He lowered his head down your tummy and seen a big scar you always had since Thriller Bark. It made you stop wearing crop tops and he noticed this, his let’s go of your hand to brush against the large mark and kissed all over it. The sentiment made a tiny tear fall the corner of your eye, but you brushed it off.

“Your whole body is beautiful…it always has been.”

He didn’t leave a part of your body kissed and appericiated. He kissed down your legs mentally smirking at them clenched together.

“Can you open your legs for me please?”

“Mmhm…”

He pulled apart your legs and your hummed at the cool air hitting your glistening folds, you didn’t realize how wet you got just from kissing,

“S-sorry…”

“What are you sorry for, my love?….you look perfect.”

Sanji sat on his knees and admired your pretty pussy just for a moment, “can I..taste you..?”

“Yes please….” You nearly sounded like you were whining at this point. You didn’t care your body was shaking waiting for him to just—

“Oh!” You moaned out. His tongue worked wonders inside you, you were still so sensitive to a man’s touch you didn’t realize you were begging for more with his body.

“H-hey…” He smacked his lips off your clit, you stopped and covered your face feeling that you were bucking your hips without thought. “It’s okay…don’t be embarrassed I want you to feel good..”

He reached over and grabbed your pillow, he lightly tapped your side to raise them and lay on it.

“See. Better.” He kissed you inner thigh and went back down.

“…Sanji ah—!” He kept humming and groaning inside you with both of his hands on your thighs.

His tongue felt amazing, so amazing in fact you felt the bottom of your tummy twist.

“I’m—! W-wait I feel like…I feel like I have to pee.”

“That’s okay just let go..”

You jerked your face at his words, he wants you to pee on him? You thought.

However you didn’t have to pee and he knew that so he sucked and licked on your clit with more pressure until….

(Actually fun fact when women squirt it is indeed piss mixed with other bodily fluid but let’s pretend it’s not💀)

“S-Sanji yes!” You screamed out your throat, Sanji noticed your hands reaching out and immediately grabbed onto them both looking you in the eyes as you released on him. “Sa—ah!”

He gave little peppered kisses on your pussy and crawled back on top of you, his cock was glistened with pre cum and it was so pink. You actually were afraid it may not fit.

“You okay?” He brushed some of your curls back admiring your panting fucked out face, “You tasted so good, baby.”

“C-can we do that more…like another day?”

Sanji looked at you shocked and red from ear to ear, “Y-you…you’d like to do this again?”

“Well yeah I..I really like you Sanji and I….I thought that because we were doing this you felt the same and wanted to be with me…”

“Baby..” He grabbed your chin carefully and kissed you making you moan into his mouth and tasting yourself in his tongue, “We can do this as much as you want….I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too.” You smiled.

“‘M ganna Stretch you out with my fingers okay?..wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“Okay Sanji i Trust you.”

You kept making this man so damn flustered he nearly forgot what he was about to do, but he shook his head and looked down seeing the mess you made.

“There you go…” You hissed a little at just his index finger, “You are super tight—fuck.”

“Is that bad?…I never um…touched myself before.”

He snapped his eyes at you. REALLY?

“It’s okay!” He kissed your cheek, “Don’t be ashamed of that…”

Half of his body was on your side as he held himself up with his elbow while his other hand was pumping in and out of you. It felt kinda weird at first but Sanji managed to squeeze a second finger.

“Feel good?” He looks back up at you. You barely at a moment to respond seeing at your eyes were shut and furrowed slowly nodding. He bit his lip and used his thumb to rub your clit “There you go…”

You got used to the stretch of his fingers, moaning near his ear as he sucked and kissed your neck and came once again. It wasn’t as powerful as his tongue but it still made you a panting disaster.

Sanji lifted himself up and rubbed your inner thighs, “Oh—should I um—“

He seen you reach out for his cock but he grabbed your wrist, “don’t worry about me, sweetheart. It’s all about you. Lay back okay?”

He gently pushed you back on your back and he grabbed his shaft and swirled his tip inside you.

“Ah!”

“You like that?” He looks up at you holding your knee.

“Mmhm”

“Okay baby imma go slow—-grab my hand.”

You let out a shaky breath and Sanji noticed, so he lowered himself closer and looked you in the eyes.

“It’s ganna be okay. Im Right here. You squeeze, scratch, or even bite my hand if it’s too much okay? Anything you need I’m here.”

“Okay.” His words were something to put you at ease, mostly because you knew he meant it. Sanji had a goal and that was to make this time special for you. And he plans to do just that so he slowly put his tip inside making your whine.

“Come here, I gotchu ..” He pushed his lips onto yours to help you get your mind of the sting and pressure, “It’s ganna hurt a little okay?”

“It’s okay…I Like it.”

He finally slid himself in very slowly, you gasped when you felt a little bit of liquid trickle down between you both. Sanji noticed it and looked down to see you bleeding.

“Okay..I’m inside you..do you…feel—ah.” Sanji moaned feeling the tightness wrapped around him and squeezed your hand. “Let me know when I can move okay?”

“Y-you can move.”

Sanji went unbareably slow, he seen the contort in your face and steadied his pace a little bit more faster but shallower.

The room began to fill with slapping of the skin and you both moaning into each other mouths. He felt amazing and you felt incredible.

“Sa—san…Ji! You feel…so good! Ah!”

Sanji started to feel his head get fuzzy, he began moving faster to the point the headboard was knocking on the wall in rhythm

It was painful just for a second until you felt his cock brush and find your g-spot.

“Y-yes! Sanji there! Yes!”

“Yeah? Ah-you feel amazing sweetie comhere—“ his last words were muffled from your lips he couldn’t stop at this point. He didn’t want to. His hand reached down to your clit rubbing messy circles to get you close.

You muffled that you were cuming, you felt tears running it felt so good, the same twist you felt before was coming back but this time it was more intense.

“San—Ji! Please…c-cum…cum inside me!”

He rolled his eyes back hearing your naughty request. He usually wore condoms but he wanted you to feel all of him.

“O-okay! Whatever you want baby whate—ah! Fuck cum with me please!”

“Sanji!!!”

You held onto his entire body tightly moaning and biting his shoulder. This was the best orgasm Sanji has ever had with you. You were so soft against his muscled body the whole time he didn’t want to left go. He moved his arms under your butt and squeezed you tightly against him making your lower half be lifted off the bed. Your fingers dug into his back repeating his name like a song. And it was to a Sanji. Your moans were beautiful and your scent was so addictive. You were definitely the woman he can do this every night with.

You both finally calmed down and he gave you one last sweet kiss before pulling out and seeing the damage. His cum was leaking out of you with a tinge of red liquid pooling through as well.

“Sanji..” Your Voice brought him out of his trance, “hold me?”

“Of course Baby of course!” He laid beside you and pulled you in close and you rested your head in his chest. “Good?”

“Mmhm.”

“…did it…did it feel okay?”

“Yeah…felt amazing.” You played with his chest giving it small kisses of appreciation. “Thank you, Sanji.”

You looked back up at him and pecked his nose making him giggle lightly. “Thank you, for being my first.”

“Anything for you, my love.” Kissing you back once more, “And I hope to be your only.”

And that he was.

[callsigndragon]

Hurry | B. Bradshaw

A/N: So I wrote this thing a month ago before my hiatus and people wanted a part 2... here it is!

Warnings: idiotic ex called Josh is a fucking stalker, swearing, angst and fluff at the end.

Want to join my taglist? Add yourself!

It’s been a week since you destroyed… whatever it was that you had with Rooster. It was something beautiful and, at least for him, real. You wanted it to be real for you, too. But it was just a fake thing. 

At least that’s what you two had agreed on. 

Somewhere along the way, whatever you two had, it became real for Bradley. It was a relationship for him. And you wanted that, you needed it. 

But how can you beg for forgiveness when he’s not answering your messages or calls? 

At this point, you’re starting to think that your relationship is over. 

Rooster is sitting on his usual stool at the Hard Deck, drinking his usual drink, watching the usual customers, and hearing the usual conversations. It’s what he always does. It’s the routine in which he finds comfort and solace after a long day at the base. 

It’s not working anymore. 

He can’t stop thinking about you, your stupid smile, your stupid laugh, and how he doesn’t think you’re stupid at all. He’s the stupid one for falling for you the way he did. 

It was all fake. He knew. He knew. And yet, he did the only thing he wasn’t supposed to do. 

Bradley should be mad at you. He thought he was being so obvious about the fact that he loved you that you knew. You knew, and you didn’t run away because you loved him too. But as it turns out, he was just a fool. And you were just following the plan. 

Was he allowed to be mad at you for not catching feelings? Or should he be mad at himself for not being clear about his feelings? 

Maybe he could have avoided this for himself if you two had sat down and talked about the real nature of your relationship. 

A hand takes away the drink in his hand, getting him out of his thoughts. “What the fuck?”

Jake sits next to him, pushing the drink away from him. “Don’t be an idiot. Go talk to them.” 

“But what if I don’t want to?” Bradley scoffs, trying to get his drink back. 

Jake slaps his hand, not wanting him to get the glass. “Look, what happened to you and y/n is what happens when you start a relationship based on a lie.” 

“It wasn’t even a relationship,” mumbles Bradley while ordering a new drink, but Penny shakes her head, making the pilot groan in frustration. 

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about!” Jake deadpans, placing a hand on Bradley’s shoulder to make him look at him. “You want them. Maybe even love them. And you left them alone.” 

Bradley’s expression makes Jake lean back, afraid that he’s going to punch him. “I didn’t leave them alone, they pissed me off, and I left.” 

“Left them alone with their ex possibly lurking around.” 

Bradley hadn’t thought about that. He didn’t think that your ex could benefit from this fight you two are having and get close to you. Is that the reason he has so many missed calls from you? Were you trying to call him to ask for help? 

You haven’t tried to call him since yesterday. Did something happen to you? 

“Have you checked on them?” Bradley shakes his head, and Jake sighs, annoyed by these two idiots. “Man, you really are something else.”

“They have been calling me every day. Multiple times.” Bradley’s voice raises a bit, fear laced in it. 

“And you haven’t answered.” 

Bradley pauses for a moment, realization hitting him at last. “No.” 

“Bradley Bradshaw, you better get in your car and go to their house! What if something happened to them?” 

Bradley pats his chest and pants, looking for his keys. “I wouldn’t forgive me.” 

“Go.” 

It takes him exactly five seconds to get to his car. 

His phone rings when he’s a few blocks away from your house. He’s driving, he shouldn’t answer the phone, but he sees your name popping up on the screen, and damn it, he’s not going to miss another one of your calls. 

“Y/n?” 

Your voice is barely a whisper. “Oh my god, Bradley, thank god you p-picked up. I need you to come here, please. I know you’re mad a-at me but I need–” 

Bradley stops your ranting, trying to calm his breath and his heartbeat pounding in his ears. “Hey, hey, what’s up? Just tell me, please. I’m two blocks away.” 

“Josh is here.” 

Bradley’s foot, which was slightly pressing the gas pedal, hit it with force, making his tires screech in protest. “Are you hidden?” 

“In the closet.” You confirm, making Bradley feel a bit better. At least, you’re not in the same room as him. He has time to get you. 

“Listen, honey. I want you to hang up and call the police, okay?” 

“I don’t want to hang up,” you mutter, breaking Bradley’s heart into a million pieces. You’re so scared. 

“I’m only two minutes away from you.” 

“You promise?” 

“I promise you. I’m not letting you down again.” 

A second passes. Then another one. “Hurry, please.” 

And the call ends. 

Exactly a minute later, he kicks the door open and strides across the house, looking for Josh. He sees them running towards the back door, trying to escape. 

But Bradley is quicker and grabs him by the back of his shirt, making the other man stumble and fall to the floor. “Who the fuck are you?” 

“The boyfriend,” Bradley hisses in his ear before punching him and knocking him out. He then takes his belt off, ties him down, and once he’s sure that he’s not going anywhere, he goes to look out for you. “Y/n?” 

He walks into your room, softly opening the closet door. You're sitting on the floor, covering your head with your hands. Rooster calls your name, startling you, but also making you let out a breath you’ve been holding since you hung up. “He’s gone?” 

“I tied him down, he’s on the kitchen floor.” He explains, sitting down in front of you. “Are you hurt?” 

“No, no. I’m okay.” You look over his shoulder, afraid that Josh is going to walk through the door in any second. “Shouldn’t we go and check that he doesn’t untie himself?” 

Bradley chuckles a bit. “Babe, I know how to do some nasty knots. He can try, but he’s not getting away.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “You seem to be having a lot of fun.” 

He shrugs. “He’s getting jail time for stalking, breaking and entering. You’re free. And that makes me happy.” 

“Because you can get rid of me at last?” 

“What? No!” Bradley places his hand on top of yours, softly caressing your knuckles. “Because you don’t have to be afraid of going out alone. You can live your life again without having to be constantly watching your back.” 

“Yeah… that’s true.” 

“And maybe, now that you’re safe… we could go out on a real date?” Bradley is taking his shot at the worst moment, but he’s afraid that once the police officers come through that door, this relationship, and maybe even you, will disappear from his life. 

You smile, the corner of your lips lifting a little and giving him sheer hope. “I would like that.” 

Before he can answer, you two hear the police officers walking in the house yelling your name. “Come on. Let’s talk with the officers before they think I’m the bad guy here.” 

@shrimping-for-all

@purplevortexx

@pono-pura-vida

@xoxabs88xox

[thequeenofthewinter]

Work-in-Progress Wednesday

Hi, hi! I am back from my short social media hiatus and ready to feed the ducks and hit a bunch of piñatas and pop some champagne...

Tagging: @oblivions-dawn @mareenavee @dirty-bosmer @blossom-adventures @ladytanithia @saltymaplesyrup @rainpebble3 @changelingsandothernonsense @umbracirrus @throughtrialbyfire @gilgamish @kookaburra1701 @archangelsunited and anyone else who wants to play along. <3 Please consider yourselves tagged.

Minutes which feel like hours and drag on for days pass as Ulfric’s boots clack against the hard stone outside the door. Each step comes quicker than the next,  and with each beat a swelling terror rises within him. What time is it? Shouldn’t she be out by now? Is she okay? What if something went wrong? If only Lyssa hadn’t insisted that he stay outside. The irony isn’t lost on him—kicked out of his room in his own Palace. A humorless chuckle passes from his lips as he fists a hand in his hair, tugging on one of the braids.

Another scream and he pulls harder. He can’t take it anymore. The not knowing, not being able to be beside her especially while knowing his child will soon come into the world at any minute. What if the baby turns out like him and— 

“If you don’t soon stop, you’ll wear a hole straight through the floors, Ulfric.”

The voice doesn’t register to him at first, and when a hand touches his shoulder, he startles only to look up and see Galmar with a frown. Ulfric is not in the mood for the sagely advice his friend thinks he has so cleverly disguised as a lighthearted joke. There is no time for that, no time for anything especially when he knows that he is quite possibly moments away from the most important event of his entire life. How is he supposed to remain calm when he has no idea what happens next? 

In all his years, he has dealt with many situations which have required strategy, diplomacy, and no small measure of pretended grace to navigate the pressures of what has been thrown into his path, but suddenly, now, there are no answers. There is no book to read, no councilors to consult, and no previous experience to draw upon. He is, for once in his life, truly without a map nor any faint inclination of what he is to do.

Galmar leans forward, pressing his hands onto his shoulders to stop his pacing. “In all the years that I have known you, when have you ever failed at anything?”

Flashes of memories of times past filter and flow, but Ulfric cannot catch more than glimpses of them: High Hrothgar with Arngeir, the Great War and those he thought he had betrayed, the whole mess of Skyrim’s Civil War and the people who died—the people of Windhelm whom he has failed. There are plenty of times when he has not held up to the full measure of the man he should be. What if this is just another one of those times?

A creak accompanies the sound of a handle turning, and his heart stops.

“What if I cannot do this?” Ulfric doesn’t know how or why the question leaves his lips, only that he does as a whisper. It is the weakest question he has ever deigned to himself, and he cannot believe he dares to ask it aloud and to Galmar no less.

“You can and you must, soldier.” Galmar claps him on the back, drawing him closer. “A healthy amount of self-doubt is necessary. If you were always so sure of yourself all the time, I would worry about you. You’re just fine, Ulfric. Go.”

An infant’s cry hits his ears, shrill and strong—and perhaps the sweetest yet most irritating sound he has ever heard. It is the battlecry he marches to when he turns to walk into the room to see his wife disheveled, tired, and holding a small baby with wisps of dark hair to her chest. 

[espresseo-cafe]

life is still beautiful | johnny | ch.7

genre: cappucino, romance, angst, university!au, dad!au, drama, slice of life

pairing: collegestudent!johnny x fem!reader

bean count: 5.4k+

warnings: mentions of bullying, anxiety breakdown, health issues

a/n: last update before i go on a short hiatus for the winter break! will be back in january 💚 enjoy your coffee this holiday my beans! note: this is only a work of fiction, it doesn’t reflect the artists’ personalities in any way.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

hugging her books, yeri plucked up the courage to walk around the campus. despite the rising fear she had in her chest, she had to get to class earlier than anyone else. the wandering eyes she got from just her presence made her feel helpless.

she knew she was stronger than that. she had to stand her ground on her own. being the eldest of four girls, she had to hold herself together in ways of emotions, mental state, and heck, even physically. however, one could only manage one thing at a time.

the tote bag got creases from her grip, she inhaled and exhaled. mentally telling herself ‘fighting’, she made her way to the hallways.

“ugh she’s here again.”

“i know right? it’s crazy.”

“that first year? i heard she’s really close with the seniors.”

“gross, she thinks she’s ‘all that’.”

“cringe.”

yeri wanted to cry, what did she do to deserve all this? she could feel her mouth quivering, making her footsteps speed up. with all the thoughts and negativity building up in her head, an image of you flashed all so suddenly.

she remembered how you consoled her, how you gave her advise to stand strong even if she felt like breaking down. and felt ashamed to not have done the same when you dealt with much harder things.

she still ran though, but became stronger and a small smile appeared in her face then..

she found herself bumping into someone.

“ow- watch where you’re going.” she groaned, rubbing the sides of her body.

“huh, you were the one so busy running-“ a guy raised his voice, his friends seconding his statement. “ah it’s you. the attention seeker.”

yeri froze, not this again.

“you can just stay there, it suits you.” another girl named jennifer giggled then pushing her to the ground, “got all the dirt as your makeup.”

mark witnessed this on the way to the lecture hall for his class. he flinched seeing yeri’s skirt slightly higher than it meant to be. he didn’t think twice and his instincts immediately took over him.

yeri saw this unfold in front of her, like a film, the red and blue cardigan slowly covered her legs. she blinked when mark sat down and blocked her view. her eyes trailed to the glasses he was wearing, his eyes unreadable. if she didn’t do that, she wouldn’t have realised she had tears rolling down her cheeks through the reflection.

the boy stared at her with clenched jaws before side eyeing the people behind who did this. he turned to her briefly and gave a handkerchief to wipe her tears, he whispered. “use this.” mark then stood up and dusted his jeans, placing his hands in the back pockets. “ah, you shouldn’t have done that.. jake. you got my jeans all dirty.”

jake raised a brow, his group of friends huddling up behind him, “you did that to yourself, helping this needy cheerleader.”

“i know, and that makes me a better person than you.” he said quite frankly and jake had a sour face on him; obviously pissed.

“by being an author? you had potential in basketball and yet you gave up your scholarship to become a freakin’ nerd! you’ve disrespected the whole team!” jake snapped, his ears becoming redder.

mark just chuckled, “disrespected? ha, this is why i left. jerks like you don’t deserve respect.”

mark approached yeri, holding her hand to help her stand and pull her away from the growing crowd around them and telling her that they should leave.

“you think you could get away just like that?!” jake called out, attempting to pull his shoulder while jennifer pulled yeri’s ponytail.

yeri let out a startled squeal and mark’s eyes widened, while he himself received a hard punch to the face, both of them falling to the ground. the others just laughed at the scenario and cheering them on.

“mark!” she shouted, her cheeks earning scratches from jennifer’s slaps, the wounds stung painfully as her tears made contact.

jake was actually enjoying this, continuing to punch the boy while the others kicked his body. he was about to give the hardest punch but his arm was yanked back. he looked behind, and his eyes widened when he realised who it was.

“j-johnny sunbae.”

johnny glared at him. holding jake’s arm, he lifted him up and shoved him to the ground in one go, instilling fear in the other students. “did you get the rest on camera?” johnny looked back at you, who was holding your phone that recorded everything, nodding in response before stopping.

“yup.” you popped your lips, placing your phone back in your pocket. “this will go well in your scholarship.. jake, was it?” you turned to other boys, “it’s going to be much worse for you lot as well.”

jake was struggling to stand up until his friends helped him. mark stood up in pain and yeri held his back and vice versa. johnny’s friends ran to the commotion and stood behind the two juniors.

johnny glared at jennifer when he noticed yeri’s face bleeding from her cheek. he treated yeri like a little sister, so seeing her hurt made him upset. he stomped to the hitter, “did you do that to yeri!?”

jennifer hitched a breath, her voice shaking, “i-i..”

“i said, did you hurt her!?” he shouted, his arm slammed the locker next to him in anger when you decided to barge in. you knew johnny had a temper, given his reaction from the motel reception. this could go worse.

“johnny.” you loudly called him, holding his forearm and the guy snapped out of it. “stop. don’t do that.”

johnny has a rush of guilt in him, “y/n, i-”

“let me do it.” you slapped her on the cheek, hard. “you must be jennifer. hi, i’m y/n.”

she held her face in pain, scoffing at the audacity. “you dare do that to me?!”

“i can do it again for free if you want.” you looked at your hand, “i’ll add fingernails for extra price.. oh wait, nevermind. you’re not that valuable.”

jennifer screeched in anger, “you b-”

you threatened her with a fake slap, it was enough to make her flinch. grabbing her sweater and pulling her close to you, you said in a cold voice, “you dare hurt yeri and her friend again, you’ll face being kicked out.” then facing to the group behind her, “your friends are at risk too.”

the younger one frowned, “you’re threatening me?!who are you to make a claim like that?!”

you smirked and bit your tongue, letting your grip loosen. “my bad, i forgot to introduce myself properly. my name’s y/fl/n, daughter of the y/l/n’s, board directors of the education bureau.”

the students started whispering to each other, even johnny and your friends had their mouths wide open in shock.

how ironic, i’m the estranged daughter. you told yourself.

the bullies went away and so did the other students, leaving you and your friends in the hallway. and you let out a soft, long sigh. your hands were shaking, spasming out of nervousness. it was the first time you announced that, the word daughter (of your parents) left a bitter taste in your tongue.

you felt dizzy that you lost a little balance but you didn’t want to worry the others. so you bit your lower lip to wake yourself up.

kun appeared in front of you with a smile on his face, “you’re the daughter of the board directors? you’re big time y/n!” he ruffled your hair then seeing your lips pale, “you okay?” you nodded, giving him a half smile and putting a finger to your lips keep it a secret. so he nodded, taking it as a sign that you didn’t want to bother the rest, “here, take my water bottle, it’s new.”

yeri wiped her tears and hugged you from the back. “thank you, y/n.” you patted her head and hugged her back when her mood suddenly changed, “something’s in my mind though..”

you looked in concern, holding your hands together, “what is it?”

she looked at everyone before turning on her sassy attitude, “why are you and big bro johnny wearing the same clothes?”

taeyong looked at johnny then to you and back again to his friend, “ah, she’s right.”

jungwoo squinted like he was figured something out, jumping after while pointing, “omg- its from a motel isn’t it?! you guys slept together??”

“johnny!” kun punched the tall guy, “have some dignity!”

“we didn’t sleep together!” you both said in unison, while your friends looked at each other in silence.

“i don’t believe them.”

“same.”

“yeah, or no same clothes.”

johnny sighed loudly, crossing his arms, “it’s a long story.. yoohyeon left for paris yesterday then we hung out at a nature reserve and bosco broke down and we got poured on so we went to a nearby motel to stay the night. and if you’re thinking otherwise, no we slept separately. i slept on the sofa and she slept on the bed.”

they looked back at each other and johnny hoped his friends got the message because he knew how hectic their minds could get. he stared at them while they stayed silent and analysed the situation once more.

“nah they probably did.”

“no doubt.”

“we felt the tension between them.”

johnny groaned and gave himself a facepalm, unbelievable. “i’m done here.” making you shake your head in agreement, then you stopped him.

“johnny.” he looked at you before stopping, “i’ve been thinking about it all night but after youngmin’s birthday, im going to go see my parents tomorrow. they managed to contact me even when i tried my best to cut off any connection.”

as if he knew this would happen, he smiled sadly and scratched the back of his head. “sorry, i gave them your number because they kept calling me in the middle of the night.. well i did give them my number back at the carnival, so it’s expected.”

you grumbled, feeling awful for him, “i should be sorry. i guess this is time for me to clear thing with them. i’ll leave at seven, just before the party finishes.”

he patted your shoulder, “yeah sure. will you be alright alone?”

you nodded, feeling slightly confident, “not really but i think i could manage. actually it feels like i’m going to the principal’s office like i did something bad.”

“but you didn’t do anything though?”

“i left home, not contacting them for three years. so yeah it’s definitely bad in their eyes.” you combed your hair back, “but it’s okay, i knew i’d face this sooner or later.”

——

seungcheol sat by the bleachers after football do-overs, wiping his sweat with the towel that his coach gave him. it had been days since he actually participated, so you could say he was still a bit off course with the drills, despite being the captain.

a bottle of water appeared in front of him, his doe eyes found the giver. he scoffed to himself, “and what are you doing, rowoon?”

the tall guy sat beside him, smiling cockily, “i saw johnny suh a week ago, hyung.”

“and what do you want me to do?” seungcheol spun the unopened bottle, not making eye contact with him. “don’t include me in your useless sidelines.”

“even if it includes the girl from that accident? heard he’s hanging out with her all the time.” rowoon grinned mischievously, now getting the older one’s attention. “and i know you got the hots for her.”

seungcheol rolled his eyes at the boy, then standing up to prepare for his leave, “rowoon, what do you really want from me?”

“police are apparently still looking into the investigation. i have the details and i need your help, whenever you’re free though.”

——

as johnny had hoped, youngmin’s birthday boasted the weather. it was a perfect morning, the bright sun was all out and he could smell the familiar scent he loved to wake up to every morning at his family home: bacons.

a shuffle next to him made turn to his side to face the newly awaken little human. youngmin was a happy baby and still is, and because of it johnny’s mornings were always on a positive note. “hey little buddy, good morning! who’s turning two today?”

the two year old gurgled and sat up with his fluffy bed hair, then climbing on johnny’s stomach. “na! (me)” while raising his arms up.

“good boy!” johnny sat up and gave youngmin’s sides a tickle before carrying him and going downstairs to where his mom was cooking breakfast. he kind of stopped in his tracks, seeing you beside her wearing an apron, helping to make breakfast and other foods for the party.

“good morning mom.” he said as he placed a kiss on her cheek, rubbing her back. he took a good look at you, who didn’t take notice of his presence as you had earphones on.

his mom gave a teasing grin, nudging her son. “aren’t you going to give her a kiss as well? i promise i won’t get jealous.”

johnny’s ears turned red and scoffed, “mom, stop.” but he smiled when he put youngmin down, the toddler running to hug your legs.

you gasped at the sudden contact, the knife cutting your finger, “ah.” bringing your finger to your mouth.

mrs. suh and johnny also flinched towards your reaction, johnny put his arm out halfway but hesitated. his mom looked at him, seeing her son’s reluctant self made her click her tongue, so she pushed him to you as she took youngmin to the living room. “stop being a coward. it’s not manly.”

johnny squinted his eyes at his mom, “she-”

“oh you’re here, johnny.” you took off your earbuds, finger still in your mouth.

“you okay?” he asked, his hand touched the back of his neck.

you made a disgusted face, the wound actually went deeper than you thought. “yeah. word of caution, blood and minced garlic do not go together. it’s gross and it stings.”

johnny laughed, walking closer to you. you stepped back a bit towards the kitchen counter, hand just holding the edge. he reached out for something from the cupboard above you. “i’ve tried that, worse taste ever.”

fetching a first kid kit to his hand, it nearly fell that he lost balance and held the counter. your hands brushing briefly next to each other and it gave you a cold chill down your arm and made johnny hold in a breath. your faces were an inch away from one another, pairs of eyes having a stare battle as if it were the only thing in the world consisted of.

the brown orbs that looked into yours was hypnotic that you could faint instantly. johnny on his sane self kept his gaze on you locked, like you were the missing key to his unopened soul. he knew you were pretty already, but this close of a distance had him changing his mind that you were so much more beautiful.

the weather was understandably warm, but what you didn’t understand was why your face was mirroring its temperature. you knew johnny had this effect on you but today was… different? you couldn’t explain why that you just kept quiet without saying a word.

“so are we just going to stare at each other the whole day or what?” johnny asked softly, then looking at your lips that were agape, looking away slowly as he brought the kit down. “because as a future doctor i need to tend to my patient.”

“then this doctor needs to take a sick leave because he’s distracted.” you sniffled, putting the knive away and washing your still bleeding finger.

“well that’s because i have a pretty patient.” he said out loud, then mentally screamed because he actually said it out loud.

he took your hand and disinfected it before putting a band-aid. you thanked him softly and continued to prepare for the party just after lunch. his group of friends came right in carrying balloons, cutleries, lootbags, and more food and drinks. he sighed briefly that no one saw that you and him had a face off, because if they did, he’d never hear the end of it.

youngmin’s birthday had more visitors than expected, johnny’s family home was filled noises that a party should have. he looked at the little boy, eating his cake that he smashed just a second ago, giggling through the cream that reached his cheeks.

though he looked at his son with pure love and heartfelt feelings, his gaze shifted from him to you, since you had mentioned that you were leaving early in the evening. he wanted to join you, having met your parents two months prior in an overwhelming atmosphere. however, he had extended family and friends under the same roof, so escaping was far from a good option.

from where he was sitting, he liked how you talked with his family but his heart ached a little knowing that was what you wanted. he felt a little nudge, from a friend he hadn’t seen since middle school. “yo johnny. that girl your new one, the one in beige?”

johnny wiped his mouth clean before answering, “w-what no.. she’s a friend.”

“you sure? if she’s your friend then you don’t mind me making a move on her? she’s seems alright.” he stood up and johnny’s instinct was to hold his friend’s arm, stopping him from making any more steps to you.

his friend took that as a sign that you weren’t just anybody someone could approach, and that spoke louder to him that johnny had his eyes on you first. the corners of his mouth rose a little, “on second thought, i’ll go get more food.”

with this much people in the suh’s home, you guessed that johnny’s family was somewhat prominent. by the looks of how johnny was raised and how people treated him, he was definitely respectable.

and just how he weirdly occupied your mind once again, you found yourself looking for him, just to be caught by johnny’s eyes himself. your eyes widened and checked the time, you had to leave soon. it was your parents’ anniversary and figured that you could patch it up with them. it had been three years, it was more than enough time to tell what you needed to.

johnny gestured for you two to talk a little at the porch. “are you sure you don’t need me to accompany you? i can step out for a bit.”

you slung your bag on your shoulder, “johnny, youngmin needs you here more. he’ll cry when he doesn’t see you.”

he combed his hair back, “actually i feel like the roles have reversed now, he’d cry when you aren’t around.”

“you’re kidding.” you chuckled.

“nope, and i have a video to prove it.” he shook

his new phone. you pushed him because he had been flexing his new gadget to his friends the whole day. he curled his tongue and smiled, taking something out of his pocket, “just.. take this. it’s a panic button, if anything happens.” he handed you the said item.

your heart pinched, not because of how attractive he was, but how attentive he was to your situation. “thank you, johnny.”

making your way down to the bus stop, you noticed he was still just a feet behind you to make sure you got on safe. he waved as you took your seat before the transport drove pass by him, and he might’ve just ticked the boxes you liked for a guy.

your phone buzzed, a notification from johnny popped up:

[ johnny ] : “you can do it, just remember to be strong. well; i know you are but i guessed you needed a booster 💪🏻”

[ you ] : “yeah, i’ll do my best. thank you.”

johnny went back to the party and accommodated the guests he didn’t get to entertain. he spotted his friends having fun with his nintendo switch while his parents were busy conversing with his aunts and uncles.

he helped himself to the kitchen, pouring a glass of water to rehydrate his drying throat. he loved the summer because of the heat, but nothing beats the feeling of cold liquid to soothe his body temperature. with the way he drank a third glass, he realised he hadn’t been drinking enough since lunch.

he sat on the counter, scrolling through his phone for the next hour or so. hearing goodbyes from several families as they took their leave, he waved at them. this continued until his friends were the only ones left behind, deciding last minute that they’d sleepover for the night. his parents agreeing since it was nearing the end of summer vacation and for their help in preparation of youngmin’s birthday.

one of the last families wanted to go karaoke and johnny’s parents joined them, saying that the night was far from over. his mom asking him to look after the house and make sure not to make a huge mess while they were gone.

johnny was relieved that everything was in place and how youngmin was still happy despite most of his playgroup friends had already left. he stretched his arms to carry the child, waving to his parents as they left.

“did you have fun today, youngmin-ah? happy birthday again you little rascal.” he lifted him higher, giving him raspberries blows on the child’s stomach. his happiness was cut short when he noticed his friends went unusually quiet.

he guided his eyes to where his friends were and he didn’t believe what he was seeing in front of him.

minji stood there, her arms crossed together as a bag dangled on one of them: a gift for her son. “hey..”

yeri’s brows furrowed and anger took over her, marching towards johnny’s ex. “how dare you show your face here after what you did to johnny?!” seulgi and mark pulling her back before she did anything, “you got some nerve, you b-”

“yeri.” johnny started, handing the child to kun. “what do you want, mj?”

her expression was soft but that was about it, not anyone knew what her intention really was besides giving a gift to youngmin, which jungwoo took when handed over. “i was hoping we could talk..” she looked to the others then back to johnny, “alone?”

johnny gestured to his friends to go back to the house and clear up, saying he wouldn’t take long.

taeyong looked back in concern, his gut telling him something was going to happen. he heard the two argue many times and he knew that this wasn’t going to be any different. so he decided to stay close to the main entrance in case one of them broke a vessel and scrolled through his phone.

the weather forecasted that tonight would rain due to continuous heat and sunny periods, so the group hurried back before the typhoon arrived. after a few minutes, the house was almost cleaned up when everyone heard minji and johnny shouting and raising their voices.

“this is why you should’ve answered my calls! you can’t just tell me that you want to get back together after ghosting me when i messaged you!” johnny fumed up, pointing fingers at her when minji just remained silent for a bit.

“i said i was sorry okay?! maybe i shouldn’t have come here! you’re still the same!” minji spat back, holding her sweater to prevent her from doing anything rash.

seulgi held her back, while taeyong pulled johnny too. yeri pushed mark aside gently and pointed at minji. “leave. now. before my hands break loose.”

minji gave everyone a long glare before stepping out, clicking her tongue in distaste. johnny’s friends saw how she walked away in shame and anger, not a word spoken between them as they stood by the porch.

——

the ride wasn’t as long as you thought, probably just three stops away. the restaurant your parents booked was the same one as the photo where everyone was.. happy. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous at all because in reality, you really were.

stepping in the restaurant, the grip on your bag crumpled and you exhaled a breather. spotting the reception and informing the staff of the booking, he then guided you to a vip room.

the table was placed behind the glass window, three empty chairs reserved for you and your parents. it had been a while, and you asked yourself when the last time you actually had a proper family dinner was.

you pre-ordered the five course menu for yourself, not knowing what your parents would choose. observing the vip room, it was quiet. one painting, in particular, caught your eye. it was a centerpiece that had an abstract theme, and strangely enough it was calming your nerves until your parents arrive.

the waiter came up to your table, pouring you a glass then another handed your one-bite hors d’ouvres. peeking at the entrance, which was visible to where you were sitting, there were no signs of newcomers.

eating the one bite hors d’ouvres, you expected your phone to chime a notification, only to be met with the display time moving onward. it had been half a hour. would they really show up?

the appetiser came about, then the salad. reaching for your phone once more, you hesitantly called your dad. however, there was only the monotonous sound, saying that he wasn’t going to answer.

usually vip rooms were the loudest, the most fun. yours was the opposite as you ate in silent.

main course had already made it to your table when you noticed your parents haven’t even arrived. you called them probably five times. though it was final that they were never going to come tonight. your vision slowly blurred and it felt full, a rush of sadness overtook your entire body.

not wanting to leave without finishing the dessert, you were served the sweetest cheesecake. except that, your palate was so bland. the two seats in front of you have been empty for an hour and a half. it reminded you of days when you at home eating dinner alone.

this was no different, but why did you expect so much when it was obvious that it’d be the same as before? it was only after dessert where you realised that the windows have been painted with mirror droplets and bright flashes.

standing up, you paid the bill that was meant for three when only one just showed up. your lips quivered, holding yourself together in public.

it was when you stormed out of the restaurant where your tears fell. you cursed at the sudden rain and thunderstorm. tonight weather’s was just like how you were feeling. your tears transmigrated with the heavy rain.

you didn’t have an umbrella with you and you cried harder when your phone was on the whole time, almost draining the rest of your phone battery.

you ran, once again. the patters of heavy rain that hit your face weren’t in parallel to the pain you felt. you ran to wherever, far away from your parents (even if they weren’t there), far from the past trauma you got.

tossing the stuff in your bag, you whimpered in hiccups when your inhaler was nowhere to be seen, then remembering you had the panic button johnny gave you earlier. you pressed it immediately, hoping to inform him you needed help, now.

johnny was watching a movie with his friends to cool off his mind when his phone rang a siren. he paused the movie and had a serious look. jungwoo scoffed and turned to face the guy. “dude don’t just pause at the-” he got cut off when johnny abruptly stood up and rushed to the door, his clothes went pass the younger one. “johnny hyung?”

“i’ll step out a bit..” he scrambled through his backpack for an item he regretted not giving to you.

the rest of the gang looked up, confused faces in theirs when they tried to reciprocate his vague action.

johnny pointed towards the clock, “it’s 9pm, could one of you guys please bring youngmin upstairs and put him to sleep and mind the house? i’ll be right back.” rushing out of his family home.

kun pulled johnny’s arm back after seeing an inhaler on his hand. he thought for a bit as he tried to connect the dots, “dude, what about y/n?”

“come with me, kun.” johnny just simply asked him to.

the two ran out and took a taxi just outside, as if it was prepared for them. johnny took his phone out, the gps telling him where you were located. his eyebrows met together when you weren’t even at the restaurant you said you were supposed to be in.

“.. johnny.” his thoughts pulled him out of a trance when kun called his name. “if this is something she only told you, i’ll stay out of it but tell me where she is so i could inform the driver.”

johnny’s legs shook anxiously as he bit his nails, looking out of the raindrop patterned window. he scolded himself for not handing your inhaler to you, he regretted giving that advice for you to talk to your parents, and he wished he didn’t give his phone number. this wouldn’t have happened if he just stepped back.

kun looked at his friend, “i know that look. if you’re regretting something, don’t. you did what you can to help.”

“yeah.”

the taxi stopped at an alleyway because there was a dead end at the end of road. johnny opened the door and left, not bothering to open the umbrella he brought while kun paid the driver.

johnny flicked his already wet hair back, “y/n!” he called out, checking his phone again to see the glowing red dot so he’d know where to look. he ran when you were just close by. “kun! follow me!”

his footsteps halted when he saw you seated underneath a lamp post. he’d want to applaud you for staying there, at least he could spot you so easily but it wasn’t the right time.

your clothes and yourself were soaking wet. one of your hands holding your chest while the other held the panic button. the jeans you wore turned darker when the light was covered, you looked up and johnny was standing up front, towering over you.

“y/n..” he sat down eye level with you. he took out the inhaler, putting it in your mouth, and pressed the pump. “breathe, okay? we’ll do this a few times.”

kun saw this scene unfold in front of him, he recalled this very same gesture you did yesterday. “ah, that’s why she wanted it to keep it a secret.” he told himself, taking out a towel and held the umbrella above the two of you.

“slowly.” johnny guided you, pushing away the wet strands off your face, then wrapping the towel around you. you were still in a mental breakdown and his heart ached a lot seeing you like this.

kun swayed awkwardly but understood and took that as a sign for him to leave for a bit. he gave the umbrella to johnny before skipping through further to look for a shed while we waited.

you just continued to cry. johnny didn’t know what to do, but talking wasn’t an option. so he took his phone out, playing the favourite song you had mentioned at the road trip, and put one of his earbuds to your ear and another to his. he dropped the umbrella from his hold, mumbling an ‘excuse me’ before wrapping his arms around you.

it was hard to hide the state of your mind, but you wondered why it was so easy for you to be vulnerable in front of johnny. more tears came out with just one action, along with the song you loved. sometimes you just needed a hug, no words needed to be said.

despite the rain, you didn’t realise how cold it got until you felt johnny’s warmth; his arms was enough to make you feel safe. and you hugged him back, responding that it was okay for him to do that.

though he was keeping you close to him, johnny’s mind was occupied with so many things tonight: your difficult situation and the sudden appearance of his ex- minji.

your arms around him made him hug you tighter.

maybe, he needed a hug too.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

taglist: @titanmaknae29 @joepomonerof @lovesuhng @studyingthemind @cheyehc @kyeomooniee @geysuuuuh

[alexanderlightweight]

hello! can you share the name/link of that fanfiction you mentioned where alec is the institute?

omg I am so, so sorry I have not finished writing it yet. i dont even have a name it's Insitute!alec in my drives. It was actually one of the projects I was working on before i had to take a hiatus for health etc and i was just talking about it

but i did not make that clear so here!! my reply took a while cause I finished a few prompts and then i went and finished the first chapter just for you! because i do love this fic and i'm so excited someone is interested in it!

so first chapter of my unnamed Alec is the Institute fic (you're not actually supposed to know that yet so it's written kind of sneaky).

--

Raphael sits in the basement cells of the New York Institute, he shivers despite the fact that he can’t actually feel the cold.  He knew it was a risk to bring Simon’s body here to the Institute. But while he is limited in his power to act directly against Camille, he had felt it his duty to deliver the mundane boy’s body to his friends.  

And if, it eased his mind a bit, that Simon’s nephilim friend Clary would be there to comfort Simon’s mother, then that was a boon for him alone.  To know that at least one mother did not have to mourn in confused pain the disappearance of her son.  

Raphael closes his eyes, stretching out his senses only to hit the chilled wards of angelic magic that hiss against him.  It is strange, to be so cut off from the world, but despite the danger involved it is an almost relaxing sensation.  To be cut off from all his extra senses and just exist for a moment.  True, he would enjoy it more if the fear of angelic torture didn’t linger over his head, but Raphael takes what he can, where he can.

It’s therefore a shock to him, to open his eyes and see a figure watching him.  The cell he is in is brightly lit, but the halls around it are dim with shadows and it takes a moment for him to focus.  

He’s tall, the shadowhunter who watches him.  Tall and broad with dark features that watch him with a relaxed air.

This one is more dangerous, Raphael realizes, than any of the other nephilim he’d met that day.

“Downworlder magic is an interesting thing,” the shadowhunter says, without introduction or warning.  “Nephilim magic is more limited, requiring blessed conduits to be of use.  Warlocks however, their abilities are only limited by their individual knowledge and power.”

Raphael stays silent, wondering exactly where the shadowhunter is going with this.

“The High Warlock of Brooklyn put my wards up himself, a beautiful piece of magic.”  The shadowhunter continues, “New York has one of the most defensible Institutes in the world.  The only fault I’ve ever found with Bane’s work is his tendency to sign it.” The man takes another step forward and Raphael sees the vibrant blue lines of angelic power, active in his eyes.   “Imagine my surprise when I read through the reports only to find that not only do we have a guest, but one who is very clearly under the High Warlock’s protection.”  

Raphael stiffens.  That is... the shadowhunter is not wrong.  But that is a secret.  Nephilim shouldn’t be able to see that, regardless of what runes the man has active.

There is a wry, almost exasperated curl of the shadowhunter’s lip, “sadly, I was less surprised to see that not only were you not processed but that there is absolutely no crime you have committed that warranted you being thrown in here.”

“The mundane—” Raphael starts, before pursing his lips.  He hardly wants to give the man a reason to keep him there.

“You were not the one who killed him. You were the one who brought his body back. It’s a rare thing, even my shadowhunters wouldn’t have risked such a deed on enemy territory.” The shadowhunter pauses and looks him over, “it’s an honorable deed and my people have reacted with dishonor.”

“Your people?” Raphael asks warily as the shadowhunter

“Alec Lightwood, I’m their Commander. I’ll be punishing them all, they had no jurisdiction and no permission.” And Lightwood has a stele out, one that he’s using to unlock Raphael’s cell doors. 

No alarms ring, no wards come on. No shadowhunters popping out to accuse him of escape.  The halls are eerily empty as he’s like deep underground and to a tunnel. Lightwood is fearless, back easily turned and Raphael feels fear at how casual he is. Sometimes it feels as if the walls and the very floors they are walking on are shifting, changing where they’re going.  

And then he’s being led up and up again and a small door opens and Raphael stares. He’s at the boundary line of the Institute, far away from the entrance and closest to the direction of the Hotel Dumort.

It’s a straight shot from here, more than enough for him to get back in time for the sun and without seeing a single of the ungrateful shadowhunters who had locked him up.

Raphael doesn’t say thank you. Lightwood was right, his shadowhunters acted dishonorably and what Raphael did was dangerous for himself. He does stop though and nod, just a quick little flash of a thing and then he’s gone.

—

Alec sighs as he watches the vampire leave.  This is going to cause problems, the least of which will be Isabelle, Jace and their new pet project.  He sighs again, shaking his head as he shuts and bars the door, watching it meld back into stone.  The way will close behind Santiago, as though it never existed.  He doubts the vampire would be so crass as to try and betray Alec by exposing the passage, but there is no need to be careless.

With that in mind he prepares himself, mentally going through the reports — and the lack of reports — from the last few days. 

Clary Fray is a disaster. 

He would be lenient except she has now expressly betrayed everything the Institute stands for, as well as put the lives of his shadowhunters in jeopardy.  Both with the downworld and with the clave. 

Raphael Santaigo had done them a boon.  To shackle him away was a disservice to both his actions and the future.  It is a relief that Alec caught it in time and eased the situation.

Now, to deal with the mundane.

It is worse than he’d thought.

The mundane is buried, a chance at a new life as one of the undead. Alec doesn’t have a problem with this, except for the fact that they’ve effectively chased off the only vampiric mentor they’d had around. Or perhaps the plan was to keep him locked up until they needed him.

It takes him a moment to reign in his anger and then he’s effectively cutting off whatever sentiment he holds for Jace and Isabelle.  He allows himself a certain amount of it, a degree of emotionality that most would consider extreme for someone of his capabilities. 

Now he gathers his power, wields his authority like a gavel and summons them. All of them and he puts them each in an isolation cell, where they will stay long past when Fray’s friend will be reborn.

Fray has no defense against his orders, especially not when Jace and Isabelle bend to his will.  

They don’t like it, but they heed it.  They have no other choice.

It won’t take much longer for Alec to be done with them and they know it. If Alec decides to ship their asses to Idris or even to Wrangle Isle, then it will happen.  It’s something Fray has yet to learn but Alec doesn’t care if it makes him cruel, one more mistake and he’ll beat her down in front of the whole Institute. 

Again and again, until the lesson takes or he sends whats left of her to the clave to deal with.

It takes him longer than he likes to decide what to do next about the body buried and waiting to crawl out, what route to take.  When he finally decides hours later, he finds himself settled against the cold stone of a grave and wonders just how he ended up here.

Decades of life and yet still he finds himself unprepared for surprises such as this.  His duty is to his shadowhunters.  His power is finite beyond the territory of his walls and while he considers it part of his pact to maintain —  at the very least — a good relationship with the downworld, this goes beyond that.

It’s been years since he’s had to put himself in a place of vulnerability, of dealing with outside forces that he doesn’t quite understand.  

He hopes this is worth it.

“Lightwood,” Santiago’s voice comes from the shadows and Alec merely nods his head.  He was aware the moment the vampire crossed the boundary. 

“If he transitions, it may be more violent than you’re used to.”  Is all he says, the vampire steps closer, into the glow of the streetlamp and Alec notes he already looks better.  He’s fed then.  

Good.  

He’s going to need all his strength to deal with a fledgling, especially one in the throes of madness.

“I’ve handled newborns before.” Santiago’s voice is calm but wary, he doesn’t like this. Coming back to this place or seeing Alec again and Alec doesn’t blame him.

“And yet, I doubt you’ve ever had to deal with one like this.  Most people are smart enough not to create a cradle for a fledgling in hallowed ground.  His mind will be open, a raw wound and the consecrated and angelic power of this place won’t help.  You’ll need to be fast and careful.”

Santiago seems to take his words into due consideration before he nods and steps even closer, crouching to run his fingers through the fresh dirt of Simon’s grave.  Alec watches unblinking as the man gathers up a handful of the dirt and seals it into a small box.  He says nothing, Santiago doesn’t either.

Dawn approaches, a danger to the soft glow of warmth that he knows will soon come and Alec steps back as the fledgling crawls from his death-womb and arises into a new life.

His old one is dead.

—

Raphael murmurs prayers and curses alike under his breath as he wrestles with Simon.

The shadowhunter was right.

Simon is unlike any newborn he’s ever helped birth. He’s feral and incandescent in his raw agony. He’s screaming not from hunger but from pain and Raphael pales even further than his corpse pallor when he realizes what Lightwood meant. Simon was buried in blessed ground, on the lines of an angelic core and he is suffering from the agony of being tortured as he was born.

“Help me!” Raphael demands without meaning to. He’s furious at himself for thinking a group of barely adult shadowhunter could properly take care of this.  He can’t believe who he thought was Simon’s friend would do this to him. To put him through this kind of agony.  

Simon is torn away from him, which isn’t what he meant and he feels a rush of fear before he realizes that there is calm.

Simon hangs limp but awake if not aware, terrified and trembling even though his heart doesn’t beat and his blood doesn’t flow. 

He’s not trying to bite Lightwood at all. 

Instead he’s got his mouth clamped shut so tight that not a fang pokes out.

“I suggest feeding him like this.” Lightwood says, calm and collected like he didn’t just subdue a newborn feral fledgeling with what is basically a hug.

Lightwood’s got Simon trapped to his chest, his arms wrapped tight so that Simon can’t use his own arms.

But Simon could kick and thrash or bite, but he’s not doing any of those things. So Raphael approaches slowly and he carefully opens a bottle instead of a pack.  Simon’s eyes light up with hunger but he doesn’t move, not a fang peeks out.

And Raphael realizes with horrified terror that Simon has reverted to nothing but instincts.

And currently, he is more afraid of the man holding him than his instincts can handle. Raphael carefully feeds Simon, barely able to get his mouth open and while he drinks greedily, eagerly and ravenously... he is still. He makes no noises, no growls or hisses, no lunging for the blood. Just trembling as he drinks and when Raphael deems him full enough, Lightwood drops him without warning and takes five steps back.

Simon lunges for Raphael and Raphael readies himself to finally fight, except Simon is already behind him, hands curled into Raphael’s jacket and still trembling.

“What is he?” Simon asks, whisper-soft and from their brief interactions, Raphael hadn’t thought Simon knew how to whisper. 

“A shadowhunter.” Raphael says because Simon has met shadowhunters before, just not while a vampire.

 Simon looks even more terrified. 

“You went up against a group of those guys, willingly?” he babbles, clearly in a panic and still consumed by fear. “Are you insane? I mean, I know Camille is but I didn’t think you were. How can you handle it, the way he feels? He smells so good but I couldn’t even think about it. Like if I tried, I’d be dead again. For good this time.”

Raphael doesn’t know what to say. Because that’s even stranger, that Simon felt such a great fear of Lightwood that he ignored the divine scent of angelic blood. Raphael had thought that maybe being born on the Institute land had made Simon immune to the song of nephilim blood.

Lightwood is watching them and Raphael suddenly feels like prey. 

“You need to leave.” They’re told, but it’s not a threat and Raphael realizes with terror that this is taking longer than he thought and it’s too near dawn. “Go here, there’s nothing much there but it will be dark and secure. My part is done here, he’s your problem now.”

“Wait, where’s Clary?” Simon is asking, “why, how am I a vampire? What’s even going on?”

Lightwood gives them both an unimpressed look and turns to Raphael and just says, “go.”

And Raphael goes, dragging Simon with him as he flees the coming sun and the cold, inhuman look in Lightwood’s eyes.  It’s never been more clear to him than in that moment that nephilim are truly, only half human.