#sweet home ff

[ateezscupid]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂

Pyeon Sang-wook x afab!reader

first post on tumblr — this is kind of inspired by my fanfic on wattpad but instead i added a twist. it’s a LITTLE rushed but — enjoy ���🏽‍♀️

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: self-harm mentioned, blood (maybe gore? someone’s death is mentioned), oral (f), unprotected sex.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 2.9k

It’s been a few weeks since your first nosebleed. Everyone in the apartments was a little on edge because of how many were catching what they thought was a virus. Jae-heon believed it was a curse, but nobody took him seriously.

You took the opportunity to get close to the Apartments gangster, Pyeon Sangwook.

He was an… compelling character. His cold demeanor was intimidating, but deep down, you knew he had a soft spot. You made sure to be slow with your approach. You didn’t want to overwhelm him. He already seemed paranoid, as it is.

It didn’t take long for him to be comfortable around you. He was still quiet, but his responses became somewhat longer. Sometimes even having detail. Your conversations with him were either about the monsters outside of the building or things that have happened in the past. He told you how he got his burn in the first place, and you told him about your issues with self-harm.

He didn’t tell you, but he was proud. He was proud you were clean for two years. You didn’t know if he had any issues with self-harm before, but judging from his expression when you told him your story, he had to have lost someone.

Now you were in his apartment helping him clean up. He went rummaging through his apartment, looking for an image of a little girl. You didn’t know why and he refused to tell you.

You soon found out why when you saw him beating the lights out of another tenant with a hammer. The scene was so graphic you felt like throwing up. The blood splashed on the walls nearby, his hands were drenched, and what made it worse was he had been struck as well. He was hit in the back of the head, and the wound made you cringe. When he tried to walk and drag the boy outside, he almost fell.

He was lucky you cared enough to drag him back inside before a monster got to him. Though, the boy he killed had been eaten. The only thing he told you about the boy was that he hurt children. He didn’t go into more detail.

“What do you want me to do with this?” You asked, holding up a jacket that was covered in holes. He walked over and snatched it out of your hands.

“Keeping.” He answered quickly, his voice a bit raspy.

“You sound like a hoarder. You can't even wear that jacket anymore, so why are you keeping it? You could feed it to the monsters.” You chuckle. He doesn’t say anything and stares at the jacket, huffing and handing it back to you.

“I think we’re good for now; there’s enough space to walk.” You fold the jacket and sit it on the armrest of the couch. He nods silently and sits on the sofa, pulling a box of cigarettes out of his pocket. You rushed over and snatched it from his hands.

“Wha-“

“No. This’ll shorten your life span; we’re all trying to stay alive!”

“…” He stared blankly. “But I want to smoke.”

“I don’t care? From this point on, you’ll quit smoking, and I'll help you. We don’t know how long we’ll be here, so…” You throw the cigarette box in the corner of the room. He didn’t dare stand up to grab it.

He became more obedient around you. You were the only person who cared about him. He was emotionally closed off and didn’t know how to respond to affection. His best response was to stay quiet and let you do your thing. The love felt nice, but it felt awkward. It felt worse when he realized he started falling for you…romantically.

He became overprotective of you. Slightly possessive but not so possessive that it was unhealthy. Whenever you were alone, his hands had to be on you. His eyes followed you wherever you went, and his body wouldn’t tense up when you touched him. He fell in love, and he didn’t know if you liked him back.

Luckily you did, but with someone as cold as him, you didn’t know how to confess. You two would sit in silence sometimes, and the atmosphere around you would be thick enough to cut with a knife. The reason you fell for him was how he would protect you and care for you, something you didn’t have growing up. Even though he tried to hide his affection for you, you would tease him enough to make him blush. He took a role in your relationship that made you feel cared for and loved, even if he didn’t know how to show it.

The reason he liked you wasn’t only because you were attractive but because you treated him like he was an average person. Because of his past, people were scared of him. The blood of his victims was stained on his hands, yet you held them without worry. Knowing you weren’t scared of him, he felt like he could be himself.

Again you two sat in silence. The TV didn’t work because of the electricity cutting out at random times, so you were comfortable in each other's presence. Though today something felt off. He felt off.

It wasn’t like he didn’t have thoughts about running his hands over your body before, and it wasn’t like you didn’t have the same thoughts about doing it to him. It was just he acted normal whenever he had those thoughts. He acted as if they didn’t bother him. Whenever you weren’t around, he’d deal with it himself and go about his day. Usually, it wouldn’t take long either, so why was he feeling like this now?

It was like a pounding feeling in his lower stomach. Not only butterflies. His heart was racing, and those dirty thoughts came back.

He side-eyed you, his eyes wandering your body. First, he looked at your chest, then slowly moved down your body until his eyes met your waist. He quickly averted his attention and cleared his throat, stood up, and walked to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him without speaking a word.

Oh, that was it.

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you stood up and strolled to the door, knocking on it gently. You didn’t get an answer. You hit on it again. Still no answer.

“Sangwook, you okay?” You asked. There was no response. “You can’t stay in the bathroom forever. We need to go down to the lobby soon-“

“I’m fine.” He said in a rush. “Go without me.”

“Are you sure? If there’s anything wrong, you know I’m here to help you. I won’t make fun of you or anything?” You leaned against the door. Pressing your ear against it, you could hear rustling behind it. He thought he was slick.

“I said I’m fine, just go.” It sounded like he was out of breath.

“Are you sure? You know, I know some stuff about the body! If you got cut or something, I can help patch it up!”

“It’s not that!” He raised his voice slightly. Your eyebrows raised from the sudden change in tone.

“So then what is it?” He’s horny, duh.

He didn’t answer. You heard his clothes rustling behind the door, and then he opened it. He looked completely fine. That’s what you told yourself until you saw his face was red. Not the typical red.

“Your face is kind of…red. Do you-“

“Can you help me?” He mustered up the courage to ask you. This was the first time you’ve ever seen him embarrassed. “Please.”

“I, um, sure? With what?” You crossed your arms.

“Don’t make me say it.”

You weren’t that mean. You nodded, and he grabbed your wrist, pulling you away from the bathroom and into his bedroom, which you helped him clean. But you were a bit irritated knowing the sheets would be messed up after you took time making his bed perfectly.

“I was hoping you’d ask; I was waiting.” You whispered as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He wasn’t very experienced when it came to sex, but he knew the basics of it. And he could catch on to what his partner liked, and that partner was you.

“Are you sure?” He placed a hand on your waist. “I don’t want to make it seem like you have to.”

“No, you’re not making it seem like that. I’ve wanted to do this, and I’m ready.” You lifted one hand and placed it on his cheek, caressing it gently as he pulled your body closer.

He lifted your chin and placed his lips on yours. You two kissed for the first time. It was so gentle you felt like you were melting into him. His rough hands suddenly felt soft as they held your waist, slowly moving them to your hips and gripping them softly. Not only were his hands soft, but his lips were too. Much different from what you assumed they felt like. You didn’t want to stop kissing him.

He pulled away from the kiss and turned you around, laying you on the bed and beginning to kiss your neck. He was handling your body as if you were fragile. You assumed he would be rough. You weren’t going to complain, though.

His soft kisses on your neck turned slightly rough as he nibbled on it, creating minor marks that would let everyone know you’re his. He pulled away for a moment to pull your shirt up and over your head, throwing it on the ground and staring at your chest. He couldn’t believe your body was exposed to him like this, but he made sure to use it the best way possible.

He reached behind you and unclamped your bra, sliding it from underneath your body and throwing it on top of your shirt. He hovered his hand over your breast as if asking for permission and you nodded. He held it gently, his index finger occasionally running over your nipple. It made you moan softly.

He bent down and took your other breast into his mouth, which made you shut your eyes tightly and whimper. This was a new feeling. His tongue on your nipple while his hand played with your other, it was overwhelming yet it felt amazing.

The hand that was on your breast moved down your body and unbuttoned your pants, pulling them down. You helped by moving your legs and kicking them off; he threw them on the floor. His hand played with the rim of your underwear, pulling at them until he slipped his hand inside of them. You brought your hand down to grab into his wrist, your back arching off of the bed once his fingers pressed into your clit.

He rubbed small circles over it, sending small shock waves throughout your body. It wasn’t like you hadn’t touched yourself before, but having someone else touch you felt different. It felt better. He lifted his head and your breast was no longer in his mouth. Your wetness pooled in your underwear, making it easier for him to rub you faster.

Then he pushed a finger inside of your entrance. Your body flinched and another moan came from your parted lips, but this one was louder. He looked up, seeing your eyebrows tied in a knot and your eyes shut right. Your expressions were telling him he was doing a good job.

He thrusted his finger in and out slowly, giving you time to adjust to the feeling before adding another in. Already your body felt like falling apart at the seams. He kissed your cheek as he fingered you, using his thumb to rub your clit simultaneously.

You cursed under your breath, throwing your head back. Your hips squirmed underneath him and that let him know he had to hold you down, otherwise you wouldn’t stop moving.

He kissed down your body, pulling his fingers out and pulling your underwear down when he made it. He threw them on the floor and spread your legs gently, wrapping his arms around them and diving into your core, his tongue flattening against your entrance as he took one lick.

“Fuck…” you mumbled, grabbing onto a pillow your head was laying on. His middle and ring finger prodded at your entrance while his mouth attacked your clit, which overwhelmed you. And before you knew it, his fingers were inside you.

You dug your nails into the pillow, choking on your own moans as he thrusted his fingers faster than before, curling them to hit your sweet spots. A knot formed inside of your stomach, begging to unravel as your moans grew louder, bouncing off the walls of his bedroom. He stopped holding your legs and your thighs squeezed against his face, but that didn’t stop his work. You brought one of your hands down and ran your fingers through his hair, arching your back with trembling legs.

The knot unraveled, causing you to moan the loudest yet. It sent waves of pleasure through your body, white dots hazing your vision. This had to have been your strongest orgasm yet, it made you feel euphoric.

He took his fingers out and backed away, putting them in his mouth. That shocked you.

“You taste good,” he smiled, placing his hand on your stomach. “you did great. I can let you rest before we-“

“Put it in.” You blurted out. “Please, I-I’m okay just please.”

He didn’t bother taking his shirt off. He unbuckled his belt and threw it on the floor, taking his pants and boxers off and discarding them with the rest of your clothes. He got in between your legs, spreading them a bit more and leaning down to kiss your lips. You returned the kiss and held his face softly, feeling his tip play with your entrance before going inside.

You hissed, moving your hands to his shoulders as you moaned. He kissed your forehead and slowly pushed the rest of his length inside of you, holding your hip with one hand to comfort you.

“You’re…big—fuck!” you whined, pulling him down so his chest was pressed against yours.

“Does it hurt?” his gentle voice in your ear was helping you forget about the pain. You shook your head and he sat up a bit, pulling his hips back. You hissed again, causing his hips to halt.

“I’m not moving until you’re sure it doesn’t hurt.” He spoke. At least he cared enough to wait.

After a couple minutes, you nodded and he nodded slightly back. He pushed his hips, his member going back inside of you. You let out a sigh of relief finally feeling pleasure. He kept his pace slow but consistent, holding himself up by his forearms. Your hands held onto his arms as you both stared at each other. He was admiring you, loving how your face scrunched up whenever he went back inside.

You moaned softly, turning your head to the side and whimpering. He kissed your cheek and moved his hips faster, your grip on him tightening automatically.

“Your moans are so cute.” He whispered. You tightened around his member because of what he said.

“F-Faster…” you begged. He sat up and planted his hands on the bed, moving one of them to grab the underside of your knee and lift one leg up. He surprised you by a constant barrage of thrusts, constantly hitting your g-spot. The knot inside of your stomach came back, and this time you knew this orgasm would probably make you pass out.

Your back arched off the bed as you moaned his name. You grabbed a pillow beside you and clung onto it, tears forming in the corner of your eyes and falling down your cheeks. You were still so sensitive from your orgasm before, it felt like your body was falling apart. In a good way. With his other arm, he rested on his forearm and leaned down to kiss you on the forehead.

Judging from the noises you made and your expressions, he knew you were close. He kissed your neck, giving you the chance to wrap your arms around him. You clawed at his back because of how good he made you feel. A constant tingling feeling that wasn’t going away any time soon.

“I—I’m…I’m c-cumming…” you stammered, moaning loudly as you felt the knot in your stomach unravel.

“Me too…” he said in a raspy tone. Small grunts and moans could be heard from him. You moved your hand on his head, gripping his hair as she moaned the loudest you could. And then it happened, your long awaited orgasm.

You clenched around him, yelling his name as you felt a large amount of liquid leave your body. Not only did he made you cum, but he made you squirt.

The sudden tightening around his member made his hips stutter. Then he stopped, groaning your name softly as he emptied his load inside of you. Both of you were too worn out to realize he didn’t wear a condom.

You laid there, your eyes struggling to stay open and your body hot. You could tell it had been a while since he last had sex. A long while. He tried pulling out but you held him, holding him down and hugging him. For the first time, he smiled. He smiled and laid down, his head on your chest.

“I wanna stay like this for a while…” you mumbled.

“That’s fine with me.” He held her close. “I…um,” he wanted to say it, but felt like he would be rejected.

“I love you too.” you stroked his hair softly. You felt his body relax on top of yours and you were the first to fall asleep. He fell asleep afterward, finally feeling what it felt like to be loved.

[lemorgo]

i went to my friend's house for a quick visit once

[ ID: girl smiles and opens the door of her apartment and in she and ap are all sunny (behind her the room is under sunlight) and cozy and outside of apartment everything is ugly gray and dirty. End ID]

[oculusxcaro]

As troublesome as Gotham can be, Pauli's is one of those places that rarely gets hit. It's open 24/7 and offers good food to all regardless of who they are and Pauli isn't afraid to hire former criminals like Jerry who used to be muscle for Scarface. Petty thugs who threaten the place for cash are just as likely to receive backlash from their fellow crooks as they would from law-abiding citizens because where else are you going to get a decent meal at 4am?

[kirishwima]

im gonna cry. like actually full on bawl my eyes out kinda cry

[bitchofdarkness]

First of all, it is true, but what this other person did not even think about for a second is that this post was made specifically about a new fandom and lost confinement real fast. Clarifying what I meant didn't do shit because it was too late. So no, established fandoms aren't really affected and I never meant those. I was talking about new fandoms, shouting my frustrations about observations I made out into the world, not thinking about it too much when I wrote this because I assumed it wouldn't go beyond maybe 10 people like most of my posts. It's true for the new media, new fandoms. But if you are in an old fandom that has had thousands of people creating for it over decades, then this post is simply not directed at your fandom. Something that other person completely disregarded.

Some posts are just not for everyone and not everyone can relate to every post. And that's fine. Sometimes shutting up would be a good idea and I wish that other person had, because then you wouldn't panic for nothing. Write your fic, you will have enough people who will love it.

I hate how fandom has become "if you haven't created anything in this very specific time frame after the release of the show/movie, everyone will have moved on"

And call me old fashioned, but that's just not me. I sometimes take ages to create and publish. And I will love a show or movie for such a long time (years, babes, years) that I just can't relate to the fast consumerism that's going on.

Because, let's be real, it can get really lonely in a fandom if most have simply moved on to the next shiny thing. Is what's created less worth, just because it was created outside the hype? Why is it such a taboo for this new fandom generation to love an old or "late" fic or art?

It's so tiring and I'm too old for the 30-seconds-hype-tiktok-shit. Just tired. So, so tired.

[joelscurls]

best kept secret

pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 6.7k

summary: In an attempt to keep your relationship secret, Joel agrees to a blind date set up by his best friend / your father. You don't take it well.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, pre-outbreak, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is 36), secret relationship, angst, explicit smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, semi-public sex, car sex, creampie, some fluff; lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: so sorry it took me almost a month to post something new ffs - life got busy and my inspiration simultaneously disappeared. but we're back, baby! anyway, dbf!joel owns my ass, so here's my rendition of him. as always, ty to my baby @javisashtray for reading this over for me and helping me through the creative process <3

Joel’s bedroom window offers a perfect view of the sunrise; of shy, pink light creeping over treetops and the roof of your dad’s house across the street.

It’s gorgeous — breathtaking, even — maybe because you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve actually seen the crest of morning. You’re far more privy to late nights and sleeping in as long as you can push it,  never been one to be up with the lark, so to speak.

You don’t mind the early wakeup call, though, not when it’s this: Joel’s head tucked between your thighs, his tongue rolling lazily over your clit, your eyes still adjusting to the light as he spreads you open for him.

He’s humming against you, his coarse beard tickling soft skin, thumbs dug into muscle to hold you in place as your back bows reflexively off the mattress. He looks so sweet like this, so eager to please, staring up at you with blown pupils.

“C’mon baby,” he purrs. “Just gimme one before you go.”

They’re the first words he’s said all morning, the first thought that’s necessitated utterance. His voice is hoarse and deep and drips honey-sweet at your core. 

Even so, despite how badly you want to — because you always want Joel’s mouth on you — you’re not sure you can. 

Because you need to get home before Denise next door leaves for her early shift. Before Susan a few houses down takes her dog out for a walk.

Before the neighborhood wakes and somebody sees you leaving Joel Miller’s house. Or worse, before your dad catches you slipping into the house in yesterday’s clothes, your car in the driveway still cold.

But with another experimental flick of Joel’s tongue, you forget all that, a content little sigh slipping past your parted lips, betraying you.

Just one, you tell yourself, and then you’ll head out.

“Fuck, okay — yeah,” you breathe, twisting your fingers into the roots of his curls.

With your permission, he buries his nose in your mound. Licks at you again — with more purpose, this time. One long, drawn out lap followed by another.  

He’s so gentle with you, so careful, caressing your folds with his tongue like they’re made of paper. It’s a dizzying juxtaposition to the way he laid you down last night and fucked you, teeth scraping your neck and cock bruising your cervix.

You’re still sore, your walls tender where he stretched them, but your pussy is drooling nonetheless, surely making a mess of the bedsheets underneath you.

Because you’re insatiable when it comes to Joel. 

For the past few weeks, since the first time you’d found yourself in his bed, you’ve craved him. Regardless of how sated he’s left you each and every time, you’ve needed more. 

It’s dangerous and stupid and undeniably wrong, having a fling with your dad’s best-friend. But you’re finding it difficult to consider the morality of it all when just his tongue makes you come harder than any other man’s cock ever has. 

That tongue, now dipping into your apex, drawing more slick out of you as his thumb finds your swollen clit — It’s overwhelming how good it feels, how good he is at this.

He’s bringing you to the edge languidly, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your silky flesh. It’s like he doesn’t want this to be over, needs to stretch the moment as far as it’ll go, milk every last second before you slip from his grasp.

But it’s going to end soon; it’s inevitable with the way he’s laving your pussy, the crushed velvet of his tongue gliding through your folds so wet and warm. Your orgasm is building, and you’re powerless to stave it off any longer.

“Joel,” you warn, his name a high-pitched whine. 

“Shh, I know babygirl; it’s okay.” 

Two of his fingers hook at your entrance and push in, pacifying you as his thumb continues working your clit. “I got you. Let go for me, sweetheart.”

The soothe of his voice floods your senses like nitrous; renders your body loose and your head foggy. You come apart with a string of shattered breaths, eyes rolled back and fingers twisted into the duvet.

Joel talks you through it: that’s it, pretty girl; so good for me; always so good for me, and though he sounds so far away, his words are the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

The world comes back into view slowly. Air settles in your lungs. And you can’t help but laugh at how fucked-out you feel when you peer down at Joel, his gaze already locked on you, expectantly.

“Okay?” he asks, rubbing at your inner thigh.

“Yeah,” you exhale, corners of your lips pulling taut. “More than okay.”

He smiles back at you. Props himself up with hands planted either side of you on the mattress and hovers over your feeble form.

“Good,” he whispers, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead, your nose, your mouth. He licks into you, letting you taste yourself on him — a little sweet, a little bitter — and his lips are so soft that you nearly melt. “Did so good, angel.” 

You want nothing more than to spend all day in this bed with him. Return the favor a few times over. Learn what he looks like in the afternoon sun against the backdrop of navy blue sheets. What he tastes like after his coffee rather than before.

“I don’t want to leave,” you admit against his mouth and he frowns, taking one of your hands in his. He presses a kiss to each of your knuckles, one by one, his eyes never straying from yours.

“I don’t want you to either, darlin’. But you can come back tonight, yeah?”

Tonight. Hours away. A whole day between now and then. But it’ll have to do. 

“Tonight,” you repeat. Solidify it. 

You slink home just as the street lights dim.

The house is quiet when you enter, apart from the incessant ticking of the grandmother clock in the living room. It sets off a throbbing in your head, a dull pang right at the front of your skull that you massage with two fingers as you ascend the stairs.

You move cautiously up each step, wincing at every creak of old wood. It must take minutes to reach the second-floor landing, and then you’re tiptoeing past your father’s room, listening for signs of sleep behind the seal of his door. Sure enough, you catch it, a single, drawn-out snore, loud enough that you let your feet fall, shuffling the rest of the way to the bathroom across the hall.

You immediately crank the shower on, climbing in as soon as you see steam. Lathering your skin with citrus-scented body wash, the smell of sex washes off your body and down the drain.

The warm water soothes your sore muscles; bittersweet relief. You stand there until the stream grows icy, stepping out and toweling yourself off just as you hear the familiar blare of your dad’s alarm on the other side of the wall.

By the time you’ve dressed and made your way downstairs, he’s already in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee with his back to you. 

Sink empty, counters borderline sparkling, a coaster tucked under his warm mug — your father is a neat man. He does not take kindly to mess.

God forbid, anybody disrupt the sacred balance of his home; move something and forget to put it back, break something of his that should be kept intact.

“Hey.”

“Hey, kiddo,” he yawns. Turns to face you. “You were up early. Heard the shower going.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you lie.

“Something on your mind?”

Heat blooms across your chest and up your neck. There’s no way he knows — you’ve been far too careful. Still, you’re on edge, and the question lodges itself between your ribs uncomfortably as you frantically search for an answer.

“Uh, n-no,” you stutter. “Just work stuff, I guess.”

He seems to buy it, reaching for the percolator and re-filling his mug with a sigh, “Just gotta give it time. You only just started. Plus, it’s your first job out of school. They don’t expect you to know it all right away.”

It’s good advice, if not misguided. You nod as if you’re absorbing it, taking it straight to heart. As if your mind isn’t preoccupied.

You grab a mug from the cabinet. Fill it with coffee and creamer. Perch yourself at the breakfast table and take a slow, steadying sip.

The caffeine has just about seeped into your bloodstream when-

-there’s a knock at the door.

Your dad shoots you a puzzled look, one which you immediately return. Who could that be, so early on a Wednesday morning?

And when he pushes open the door to reveal none other than Joel, you just about fall out of your chair. Your nails absentmindedly dig into the wood of the table in an attempt to brace yourself.

“Oh, buddy — hey! Come on in,” your dad says, patting him on the back as he steps over the threshold. “Wasn’t expecting you.”

You grasp the handle of your mug like a lifeline. For a fleeting moment, you worry the ceramic will shatter in your hands.

Joel is dressed — blue cotton t-shirt covering his broad back and the deep, red scratches you left there when you dug your nails into skin, your legs hiked over his hips and your face tucked into his chest.

The pair of boxers peeking over the waistband of his jeans are different from the ones you pulled off of him last night, the ones he shimmied back into before you slept cradled in his arms.

He’s a different Joel here, now — your father’s friend, your neighbor — not the man who breaks you down with his tongue or the one who calls you his good girl while you take his entire, throbbing length. 

No, this Joel, standing in your kitchen in the presence of your father, has never betrayed him. Hasn’t tasted his friend’s daughter or felt the tight embrace of her wet, warm cunt around his cock. This Joel is reliable, honest, not one to do harm.

You do not desire this Joel, cannot. You must look at him with apathetic eyes. Must keep the boat of your longing at bay. 

Easier said than done. It’s as if your desire for him is a feral beast, fed by his touch and left starving in its wake. You feel like you’ve just run a marathon, sweat beading at your collar as you not-so-subtly follow the subconscious flex of his hands, the bunching of fabric over his biceps.

His voice bounces off the backsplash, and your fingers tighten around the handle of your mug.

“Yeah, I uh — I went to make myself coffee and realized I was out. Was hopin’ you might have some to spare?”

He can’t be serious. He came over for coffee? He couldn’t get some on the road?

“I’m afraid she took the last of it,” your dad’s eyes point to you, and you ignore the burn of Joel’s gaze when his follow.

“Ahh,” he says. “‘ts okay. I’ll grab some on my way in.” 

His fingers taptaptap on the edge of the countertop, bottom lip tucked between his teeth like there’s something else. Another reason he came here.

And then you spot it — your wallet, dark red leather, poking out the top of Joel’s back pocket. 

You must’ve left it in his room before you hurried home. Somewhere amongst the mess of trinkets and trash on his dresser. You half-remember dropping it there last night as he’d kneeled in front of you and peppered kisses up the length of your leg.

Thankfully, your dad is oblivious as ever, giving Joel the perfect opportunity to inconspicuously slip you your wallet when he turns around and crosses the kitchen, placing his empty mug in the sink. 

Joel sidesteps once, twice, extending his arm and snapping it back as soon as you have the wallet in your grasp.

Your father clears his throat. Spins to find Joel exactly where he was. “I’ve been thinking,” he starts, wrestling a slice of bread out of the bag and dropping it into the toaster, “I gotta set you up with this co-worker of mine, Deb.”

Joel freezes. You watch as the color drains from his face and his large hand anxiously cards through dark curls. You’re pretty sure you freeze too, breath caught somewhere in your throat until your dad turns to you and you remember to exhale. 

“You know Deb, right, honey?” he asks. You mentally flick through the rolodex of your dad’s coworkers. 

There’s Leanne, tall redhead, hosted a potluck a few months back at which you tasted the worst mac & cheese you’ve ever had. And Barbara from accounting, who he got into a heated argument with over who makes the best BBQ in the city. You only remember her name because he hadn’t shut up about how wrong her opinion was for a full week. 

This woman actually thinks the Smoke Shop has got better ribs than Lou’s. I said to her, Barbara, your taste buds must be absolutely torched.

But Deb? You don’t recall a Deb. Still, you’re pretty sure you hate her, just in hearing her name in this context. 

You shake your head, no. 

“Well, I guess you haven’t seen her in a while. She was there that day I brought you into the office.”

“When I was ten?” you retort. 

“Yeah, I guess it was that long ago, huh?”

You shrug. He returns his attention to Joel. “Anyway, Deb – she’s around your age, just got divorced about a year back, and she’s a real nice woman. I think you two would really hit it off.”

“Is that so?” Joel replies. You swear his voice wavers. If your dad notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“You’ll like her Joel, I promise. I mean, when’s the last time you went out with a nice lady? Not since – what was her name — Jean? And if things were going well with her, I’d hope you’d tell your old friend.” The toaster pops, and he retrieves his slice of toast. Grabs a butter knife from the utensil drawer.  

“No, I ain’t seeing Jean,” Joel sighs. Flashes you an apologetic glance as your dad slathers his toast in artificial purple jam, blissfully unaware.

“Well, you gotta get back out there!” 

Joel’s gaze rolls to the ceiling. “I don’t know – I’m just not real interested in datin’ right now.”

You exhale, then — a quiet declaration of relief that seems to go unnoticed — unperturbed even when your dad continues his pitch. 

I’ve known this woman for years Joel, I’m telling you, the two of you’d be the perfect match; she’s a looker too, real pretty.

Ew. Tuning him out, you check the clock, find that you only have a few minutes before you need to get going. You stand from the table and make your way toward the sink with your now-empty coffee mug in hand.

Would I ever lead you astray? your dad is asking just as you brush past Joel. His hand, idle by his side, catches the fabric of your blouse and you have to fight to ignore the pinprick of electricity it ignites under your skin.

“No, I know,” Joel grumbles. “I trust your judgment ‘n all, ‘ts just-”

“Will you just give her a chance?”

“Jesus; fine.”

The mug slips from your grip, falls into the sink with a clang.

Your dad glares at you, expression softening only when you gesture to the still-intact ceramic lying on its side in the basin.

He’s quickly distracted, then, jotting a series of numbers down onto a scrap of notebook paper, the blue ink pressed in so hard that it’s beginning to bleed through. 

“Atta boy,” he drawls, sliding it across the counter. Joel pinches it between two fingers, folds the paper without looking at it and stuffs it into his front pocket. 

“Promise you’ll give her a call tonight? I may or may not have already talked you up, and I need to know you’re not gonna make me look bad here.”

Joel has to see you staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He must. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under already. But he’s refusing to meet your gaze, eyes glued to the cabinet directly in front of him as he nods. “Yeah, I’ll call her tonight,” he says, a small, unconvincing smile pulling at the corner of his lips. 

He’s actually agreeing to this?

You need to get out of here before you say something rash.

The anger bubbles in you slowly, then all at once, threatening to boil over as you slip on your shoes and sling your bag over your shoulder. 

Marching toward the door, you offer a half-hearted bye, not bothering to look back before you leave.

The office is already milling with people by the time you stroll in, ten minutes late. 

The conversation between Joel and your dad is still running laps in your head as you sneak past your boss’s door.

It sticks there through the morning and well into the afternoon, your dad’s words an incessant earworm: I think you two would really hit it off.

The thing is — you can’t blame Joel for saying yes to the setup. Not really. Your situation is complicated, messy, bound to end badly.

Maybe he’d be happier with Deb. 

They could take walks together, stroll through the grocery store or down the street  hand-in-hand. Throw dinner parties and shamelessly gush about their relationship to their friends. All without fear of being caught doing something wrong.

Because that’s what this is, you and Joel — it’s wrong. Not like you weren’t already well aware of that. Leave it to some woman you’ve never met to rub it in.

The day passes infuriatingly slow.

The pile of emails in your inbox only grows larger by the time you’re due to clock out, stack of reports on your desk barely touched. You wince when your boss stops by your cubicle on her way out, eager for an update.

“Sorry, Linda; a couple of these were more time-consuming than I’d hoped,” you lie. But you can tell she doesn’t buy it, not one bit, her expression souring as you shuffle through papers.

“I need these done by the end of the week, no matter what.”

“Of course,” you mutter, face heating with embarrassment. “I’ll get them done and on your desk by Friday.”

“Thanks.” Her heels are already clacking on tile when you open your mouth to apologize again, your sorry lost to the ether.

You gather your things and scramble to your feet as soon as she’s out of view, not sticking around to watch your computer power down. By the time you get to your car, Joel’s number is already dialed on your phone.

He picks up after two rings.

“Darlin’ — are you okay?”

It’s admittedly uncharacteristic for you to call him so early. You usually wait until after dark, when you’ve both retreated to your respective bedrooms, away from listening ears.

But this can’t wait. It’s been eating at you all day, digging into your work. If you don’t talk to him about it, you’re going to end up unemployed. You don’t bother to ask if he’s still on the job site, around other people. “You’re going on this date.” It’s not a question. More of an accusation.

“Baby,” he sighs. You try your best to ignore his molasses drawl and the way it seeps into your chest. 

“Why didn’t you say no?” 

“How could I?” he groans. “There’s your dad, askin’ me if I’m seein’ someone, sayin’ he’s already told this lady about me – what am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice comes out a whine. “Make something up. Tell him you’ve taken a vow of celibacy.”

He laughs, low and breathy on the other end. “Yeah, baby. Think he’d believe that one, f’sure.”

“Fuck,” you huff. “I just— I don’t-“

You want to tell him not to go. To cancel. Fake his own death. Do whatever it takes to get out of this. But you have no right, not really. The two of you aren’t dating. You don’t have any control over what he does or who he sees. And you don’t want that, no. You just want him to choose you.

“I don’t wanna go, darlin’. I really don’t. But if I do this, I think it’ll get him off my back for a while. He won’t have a reason to suspect that I’m foolin’ around with his daughter.”

Fooling around. His phrasing is a metaphorical punch in the gut.

It’s not exactly a lie. You haven’t put a label on this thing, whatever it is. It’s been purely physical: lips slotted to lips, tongues pressed together, swapped sweat and saliva. But hearing it reduced to two words, words with such a casual connotation — as if you haven’t been driven by overwhelming desire — makes your stomach churn.

Joel doesn’t seem to clock it when you go quiet, a cocktail of rage and sorrow sloshing around your insides. “It’s for the best,” he adds, a shot of hard, burning liquor. 

“Yeah,” you say defeatedly. Choke back the pathetic tears that creep up your throat. “For the best.”

He ends the call with the excuse of bad cell reception. Promises to talk to you later. You’re not sure that you believe him.

The phrase fooling around curls up in your head, a wet dog, its fur dripping into the crevices of your rattled brain the entire drive home.

You dodge Joel’s calls for the remainder of the week.

There’s no use in talking to him when you have nothing to say, when you know any words you attempt will be overtaken by tears.

Even so, it doesn’t stop him from trying. His number lights up the screen of your phone at least twice a day.

He leaves voicemails that you do not listen to. You can’t. The last thing you need is his syruppy drawl in your ear. You’ll break; you know you will.

So instead, you delete them. Rid yourself of temptation.

But you still ache for him — a devastating truth. You lumber through the days, bones heavy with hurt. Find yourself kept up at night by thoughts of Joel and the infuriatingly soothing timbre of his voice, the intoxicating callous of his fingertips against your soft skin. 

It’s a lonely thing, yearning for Joel Miller.

On Friday, your father beams at the dinner table. He’s grinning like a child as he stuffs a forkful of rice into his mouth.

“Joel and Deb’s date is tomorrow,” he says. “Think they’ll really hit it off, don’t you?”

You’re dumbfounded for a long moment — can’t believe that this is your life now: being asked about your thoughts on Joel and the ever-elusive Deb as a couple. When it takes too long for you to answer, your father’s fork stills pointedly on his plate, and you sputter.

“Oh! I mean, I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t remember Deb.” You can’t help your condescending tone. Your dad doesn’t seem to catch it anyway. 

“Well,” he says, “I think they’ll be a match. Hoping so, anyway. The man has been such a hermit lately — maybe if he has a lady, he’ll get out more!”

“You sound real excited,” you grumble. Stab four peas on the prongs of your fork.

“It is exciting. I’ve never set anyone up before. And the best part is, the place they’re going to — the Tavern — it’s got rooms you can rent out for wedding receptions. Just imagine if down the line, they got mar-“

“Dad,” you stop him. You think you’ll be physically sick if you let him finish that sentence. “Sorry, I just — I’m really tired, all of a sudden. I think I’m going to head to bed early.”

It’s not a complete lie. You’re emotionally exhausted as a result of the past couple days. Sleep sounds like a much-needed, blissful escape right now.

Your dad doesn’t question you. He just nods. Swipes your plate from in front of you and brings it to the sink along with his.

Of course, you find it impossible to actually drift off that night. Tossing and turning, you battle the glaring urge to get up, slink into the home-office and look up directions to the Tavern. 

Not that you’re planning to go there anytime soon — you’re just curious. That’s all. 

Around midnight, you give up, pad down the hallway and into the room parallel yours. The computer dials up slowly, and you chew your bottom lip as you wait. 

You snatch a piece of paper from the printer and a pen from the #1 Dad mug that sits next to the monitor. Click on the internet icon and type the words into the search bar.

This is definitely a bad idea. Maybe the worst you’ve had in a while.

You jot the address down anyway.

Downtown Austin is buzzing with life. 

Patrons spilling out of bars, tourists striding down the street in their brand new Stetsons – it almost distracts you from the task at hand. 

At just past seven, you’d told your dad you were going out, meeting a friend for drinks. He’d been a bit taken aback, seeing as you’re not very social these days, but he’d seemed happy. Relieved. 

That’s not what you’re doing, of course.

No – in reality, you’re turning into the parking lot attached to the Tavern. It’s packed to the brim with cars, but you still manage to find Joel’s truck, its license plate number burned into the back of your mind after countless mornings of absently reading it as you snuck past.

It’s idle and empty when you inch by, and even though you knew he’d be here, on this date, your heart still sinks. Because maybe a tiny part of you had hoped he’d stand Deb up. 

You should leave. It was stupid to come here in the first place. What are you going to do — storm inside and demand that he leave with you?

You consider it for half a second, groaning when you realize how pitiful you are. Defeated, you swing your car into a spot at the back, facing the building, and shift it into park. You hug the steering wheel dejectedly.

From here, you have a straight-shot view of the restaurant’s entrance, a set of double doors at the side of the building. Groups spill out every so often, every pair that emerges causing your back to arch reflexively.

Joel and Deb are probably discussing their interests right now, bonding over a shared connection with your dad. You can vividly picture the smile likely plastered across his face — the same one you’ve elicited with sweet filth whispered in his ear.

And you’re here, sitting in your running car, watching the door. Your pulse thumps obnoxiously loud in your ears.

Minutes pass like molasses, slow and thick. You watch the clock on the car radio obsessively, betting with yourself on what time they’ll leave. After thirty minutes of nothing, you’re convinced that they’re going to close the place out.

But then the door opens again, and you straighten up, immediately met with the sight of Joel and Deb. 

She’s talking animatedly, eyes widening every few words, blonde hair wafting around her narrow face. It’s undeniable that she’s stunning, even from far away; possesses the kind of beauty you see on magazine covers in line at the grocery store. The jealousy that pools in your gut burns like acetone in an open wound.

She takes his arm as they walk toward the parking lot, and he lets her, despite the rest of his body appearing strangely rigid.

You wonder if he’ll take her home. Lead her to his truck, help her up the step to the passenger seat and sneak a look at her ass under her dress before shutting the door. If they’ll leave her car in the lot for the night, come back to retrieve it in the morning once he’s helped her forget about her loser ex-husband; let the scent of her perfume seep into the bed sheets to cover up yours.

But he doesn’t lead her to his truck. You watch as they unexpectedly turn down a row of cars, disappearing from your view completely, his arm still locked with hers. 

He could still kiss her. Press her against the car. Promise her that he’ll call — and he will, first thing tomorrow. He’s probably just being a real gentleman. Treating her like a woman he might want to marry someday. 

Maybe he knows, after just one date, that she’s his soulmate. He’ll buy the ring in a couple weeks. They’ll be engaged in a month’s time, and he’ll say he just couldn’t wait any longer. 

She’s the one thing I’ve been missing.

You stew in the agonizing unknown for what feels like hours before Joel materializes once again, backside illuminated by headlights as he strides toward his truck.

And then — he stops. You see the exact moment he notices your car in the parking lot, his eyebrows threading together and his hands splaying over his hips.

He’s staring directly through the windshield. At you.

Fuck.

He takes a few slow steps. Stops in front of the hood. Narrows his eyes and flexes his jaw.

With a deep breath, you unlock the doors. Gesture for him to get in the passenger side. 

He immediately rounds the car, prying the door open and climbing inside just as a SUV pulls out the row he and Deb had walked down. 

The door slams when he yanks it closed. The sound echoes through the cab of the car.

“You wanna fuckin’ explain what you’re doin’ here?” he snaps. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, embarrassment and now, anger, spooling hot behind your ears.

You know you’re in the wrong. You shouldn’t have followed him. But does he have to be so hostile?

When your gaze finally meets his, he looks — distraught — jaw clenched and lips set in a straight line. His fingers absently dig into denim-covered thighs.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, “I just wanted to see how you were with her.” And it’s the truth; not one you want to be admitting right now, to him, but it’s the truth nonetheless.

“Doesn’t give you the right to spy on me.”

“So what was I supposed to do? Sit at home and mope while the guy I was seeing is on a date with someone else? Oh no, I’m sorry,” you throw your hands up, form air quotes with your fingers, “the guy I was fooling around with.”

This seems to strike a nerve. His jaw twitches, and his fingers still on his lap.

“It wasn’t like that,” he grits

“No? Isn’t that all this was to you: fooling around?”

There’s a beat. Joel sighs. 

“No — fuck, no. Of course not.”

His expression softens. A crack in solid stone. “I tried callin’ you,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” you admit.

He nods. Another beat.

“Did you kiss her?” you ask.

“No.” He says it with intent, with promise, eyes firmly locked on yours now. 

Your mouth goes dry.

“No?”

“No,” he repeats. “I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t want to.”

“You don’t want her?” 

“No,” he says flatly, his pupils bulging in the lamplight, black bleeding into the brown of his irises. “I don’t want her.” 

“Why not?” 

He leans forward. His weight presses into the center console and his breath fans your face — warm, tinged with the scent of cheap beer.

“I don’t want her,” he says, voice an octave lower, “because I want you. I thought you knew that?” 

The radio drones between the two of you, some classic rock song you think you recognize flitting through the speaker. Your pulse beats staccato in your throat, off tempo.

“You want me?” you ask, a little breathless, and the next words you say are beyond dumb, beyond reckless, but you say them anyway. “Prove it.”

Joel doesn’t hesitate. He closes the slight distance between you and kisses you, hard, his tongue frantically sliding against yours through parted lips.

It’s sloppy, and desperate, and you feel drunk on the taste of him, on longing laced with carnal need. He’s groaning into your mouth, grabbing your head with both hands, burying his fingers in your hair — as if he can’t get close enough, as if he’ll only be satisfied once he’s swallowed you whole. You’re pretty sure you want him to.

Your hands move frantically to his t-shirt, then, bunch into the fabric and pull. You need to feel the skin underneath, need to rove your hands along his bare chest. He accommodates, tugging the shirt by the back of the collar, lips separating from yours ever-so-briefly to bring it over his head and toss it onto the backseat. 

And then he’s back on you, licking into your mouth again, eliciting a whimper from you when his hand wraps around the side of your throat, just under your jaw. 

Your palms splay across his torso, wander over warm, golden skin. You’ve missed this, god, you’ve missed this — but it’s still not enough. You need to feel more of him. In your mouth, in your hand, in your cunt — you’re not picky. Just need him in whatever way he’ll provide.

“Joel,” you whimper into his mouth, fingers winding around his bicep. 

He pulls back. Peers at you through hooded eyes. “What is it, baby?” he asks through labored breaths. 

“Need you — please.”

He immediately unbuckles your seatbelt. Lowers his seat back and manhandles you onto his lap. You go easily; slot yourself to him with legs folded on either side of his thighs. 

Wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, you grind down into his lap. His cock strains against denim underneath you. He groans when you swivel your hips and brush the heft of it again with your clothed heat.

“You gonna let me fuck you?” he asks into your mouth, his forehead pressed to yours.

Your breath catches. 

You know what he’s really asking: are you going to  let him fuck you here, in the parking lot of a public establishment, where anybody could see?

But you don’t care. In fact, you’re way past caring, the emptiness of your cunt too painful to ignore any longer. Let them watch him take what’s his.

You nod frantically. “Yes,” you pant. “Please.”

Joel nods too, as if he’s accepting his fate. He’s going to fuck his friend’s daughter in the passenger seat of her car. There’s no way around it — not when you’re begging for it. He’s going to give you what you need.

“Okay,” he soothes, “I got you baby.” 

He helps you out of your pants, then; clumsily maneuvers them down and off your legs along with your panties and tosses them aimlessly into the back.

He doesn’t bother to take his jeans off. Lets you unzip them and pop the button open, your nimble fingers making quick work of it. And then you’re pulling his cock out of his boxers, stiff and leaking in your grasp.

You steady yourself with hands on his shoulders just as he begins to pepper placating kisses along your neck. “Go ahead baby,” he whispers into your ear. “Take it; it’s yours.”

His head falls back against the seat as you stroke him a few times and line his cock up with your dripping entrance, his hands clasped around your waist. 

You sink down slowly, savoring every inch of him as he burrows in deeper. He’s so thick, stretching you like it’s the first time again, your walls fluttering as they relax around his cock.

“Fuck,” Joel slurs, fingers digging into your skin impatiently when you still, fully seated on him.

“Gotta move baby — please move.”

He’s so fucking deep, though, his cockhead bumping your cervix, and your entire body feels gelatinous atop him. A cloying sort of heat hangs around your head. You swivel your hips weakly, your forehead falling to rest on his with a heavy sigh.

Joel is happy to take control, bucking up into you so hard you see stars. You can’t suppress the string of moans that spill from your mouth, and Joel doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just as loud, anyway, his broken sounds bleeding into yours, bouncing off glass and leather.

Neither of you can muster an actual word, though, not with him rutting up into you, sheathing himself in your pussy over and over again. He’s relentlessly hitting that spot — the one that has you practically clinging to him for dear life. 

It’s approaching too quickly; he’s going to make you come.

One of your hands flies to the roof of the car in an attempt to brace yourself, flat palm pressing into it so hard you worry it’ll pop. 

Joel takes the opportunity to drag you down in his lap, spearing you on his cock, and the sudden change in angle makes you cry out.

“Oh f— ahh, oh my—“

“That’s it,” he coos, “you got it, babygirl.”

His words tip you over the edge, your entire body locking up as you gush around him. You’re wetting his lap, slick splattering his thighs, and he loves it, his fervid moan telling you so.

His movements begin to falter then, hips stuttering underneath you as he chases his own high.

“Cmon, baby,” you goad, “please fill me up.”

He grunts when he spills inside, his face nestling in your chest, heaving as he works through it and begins to come down. You don’t move, not that Joel would let you, still holding you on his lap like he’s afraid to let you go.

You nuzzle into his embrace as his cock softens inside you.

You stay like that for a while, probably too long given that anybody could easily look into the car and see you straddling him. You don’t have the energy to care.

Eventually, you lift your head from its spot on Joel’s chest. Look up at him with bleary eyes.

“Joel,” you say.

He meets your gaze, face shiny with sweat and his hair a mess. He looks gorgeous like this, you think. The way only you get to see him.

“Yeah?” He grazes along your arm with featherlight fingers. His touch raises goosebumps on your skin.

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“About wanting me.” In truth, you’re not sure you want the answer. But you need to know, definitively, if Joel is yours. You’re done sharing him.

“Oh, baby,” he drawls. “Of course I do. You’re all I want. Do you want me?”

And it’s a stupid question. He has to know that. You’re nodding before he can even finish it. “Yes,” you breathe. “I want you, Joel”

“Then it’s settled. It’s me and you. No more…interlopers.”

You giggle. Reluctantly separate yourself from his body and re-dress. You settle back into the driver’s seat with achy legs.

You’ve never felt more content than you do in this moment.

Still, you’ll have to hide — won’t be able to share the news of your new relationship with friends or coworkers, your dad — and neither will Joel. 

You don’t care much, not as long as he’s yours, but you need to be sure he feels the same.

“Joel,” you stop him as he opens the passenger-side door to get out. He stills with one leg swung out the door.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“Are you sure you don’t mind…being a secret? Don’t mind keeping me a secret?”

He looks at you like you have two heads.

He pulls his leg back into the car. Shuts the door and leans over the console again.

Taking your chin between his fingers, he forces your gaze. Makes sure you’re listening.

“I want you — doesn’t matter who knows or doesn’t know. Long as you’re mine.”

Your chest tightens, and your heart squeezes inside your ribcage.

“I’m yours?”

He smiles. Presses a chaste kiss between your eyes, on the tip of your nose, on your lips. The same way he did the other morning. 

It all feels somehow sweeter, now.

“Yeah, angel. You’re mine. My girl.”

end notes: tysm for reading! please consider commenting and/or reblogging if you enjoyed! I've been toying with the idea of turning this into a series so lmk if that's something you'd be interested in hehe.

Also, I hopped on the bandwagon and made a sideblog for notifs! I'll be doing away with a taglist from here on out, so follow @joelscurlsupdates & turn on notifications if you wanna be notified when I post a new fic :-)

tag list: @janaispunk @amanitacowboy @fhatbhabie @frannyzooey @lola8888673

[pedge-page]

Milk Run

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel's gotta have his daily nutrients, no matter where you are.

Warnings: breastfeeding, Lactation kink, semi public/public, getting caught, sub!Joel, handjob, oral m receiving, mommy kink, throat pie

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Breastfeeding Joel accompanying you to go shopping when he spots a nursery room and immediately reverts to being an overgrown child, tugging your arm excitedly to plleeeaaaasseeee go there like its the kids play area.

He literally drags you there whether you wanted to or not. Relieved that No one else is there, you close the door and sit on the couch. Joel leaps over, knees and lifts your top and bra, licking his lips. His hands shake from excitement as he unclasped your bra for you.

He let's out a soft whine when your tits fall free. Kneading them gently in his big hands to get them achy and flowing.

"Be quick Joel, I dont want to have to explain this to the store manager." You pat the seat next to you.

Joel lies himself down sideways, elbow propped over your leg so he can rest himself against you, facing your chest. His lips enclosed around your pert nipple, ans you gasp at the sensation. He hums contently, closing his eyes and breathing deeply through his nose. He's pretty expert at working your breast tissue like a udder until sweet warm milk is flowing into his mouth.

He groans, long and drawn out as his cheeks bulge before gulping the first load. As he drinks more and more, he settles heavily in your lap until your holding his head with one hand, rubbing the scruff curls of his hair as he sucks. He looks so peaceful, lashes drawn to his cheekbones and jaw working every few moments to suckle some more. An audible gulp and little whimpers ger stuck in his throat.

You roll your free hand along his chest, feeling his heartbeat fall rhythmically to a steady pound. You've gotten used to the tickle of his beard against your skin, a comforting touch when you feel anxious in public. His relief, by drinking your breastmilk whenever he needs it, has somehow become yours too.

Joel is too engrossed in the heavenly taste of your milk that he doesn't notice the tent bulging in his jeans. He shifts uncomfortable, the fabric pressing tightly.

You giggle and kiss his forehead before your fingers drift south and palm over his errection.

His eyes flutter open, a grunt forced from his mouth as milk spits slightly up. He looks at you with alarm for just a moment, as if unsure of what is going on, before falling into a drunken, seduced trance as you work your hand over the hard length of him over and over again.

He clears his throat, licks the mess he's made from his cheeks and your tit before slurping your nipple back in his lips. He side eyes you, your smirk and teasing shakes of your head fueling his cock until its bursting from the zipper on its own.

"Wuat happa ta bein wuick?" He mumbles before sucking a large gob of your tit to fill his mouth.

"We are. Just focus on cumming for Mommy and you can drink my milk the entire car ride home," you whisper, your lips gliding over his forehead wrinkles again.

He whines, his hand coming over yours to help you jerk his cock faster. He gulps in quick motions, needing more time to breathe as his heart pace fastens.

Both sets of ears perk up when the nursery door lounge clicks, and there's nothing to shield the poor lady who walks in with her baby carrier, makes contact with the perverted scene ahead and yelps. Too stunned to say anything but oogle terrified with wide eyes before she immediately backs out and slams the door in horror.

"Oh my god!" You both shout. Yours in disbelief, bit Joel's in complete pleasure as his cock shoots his seed into the air and all over your hand. "Oh ff-fuck baby, ugh fuck that's it, fuuuccckkkmmmm."

"Joel get the fuck up we need to leave now."

He kisses your nipple one more time before standing. Instead of letting you get up, he stands between your parted legs, his dripping cock level with your face.

"Can you clean me up, please Mommy?" He pouts with a twisted grin.

You narrow your eyes at him with a tsk before grabbing his ass ans pulling him in, his cock getting sucked right into your mouth until his tip hits the back of your throat.

"Oh shit-shit Mommy!" He tosses his head up as you rock his hips back and forth, sucking him cand all his naughty creamy cum clean like a vacuum on a pole.

He pulls you flush once more, until your choking from the bulge of his cock in your throat. He stutters and shakes, moaning loudly as another surprise load empties itself right into your stomach. You swallow and suck, no leaving for air until he's completely drained of any evidence.

You slap his ass cheek. "Get your pants on, we need to leave now."

As you hoist your shirt on and toss your bra into your bag, fearful of security coming to arrest you two for indecent exposure in supposedly a family safe room, Joel taps your shoulder incessantly.

"What!?"

"Do I still get to suck your tits when you drive us home?"

- - - -

Taglist

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[heesvnqie]

>>Teeth- Lee HEESEUNG FF

pairing: fem!reader x heeseung

word count: 3k+

synopsis: You tease Heeseung in the resturant in front of his mother. So, he doesn't let you cum for hours.

genre: smut

warnings: >> smut,cussing, biting/marking, fingering, begging, choking, slight hair pulling, size kink, dom!heeseung x sub!reader, unprotected sex (a big NO-NO), orgasm denial, edging, slight overstimulation, creampie, manhandling. petnames

Song playing: Teeth By ENHYPEN

Notes: This is an adapted story that I was heavily influenced with.

You really loved Heeseung's mom, you really did. She was sweet, and probably one of the kindest people you've ever met. But at this moment, you weren't thinking about how kind his Mother was.

You weren't thinking about how delicious the food at this restaurant was. You were thinking about how goddamn good those necklaces looked on Heeseung. His face looked hotter and more handsome than usual.

You were thinking about him pushing those long fingers into you until you're coming all over. You were thinking about his throbbing cock he was currently hiding inside his jeans to his mother.

-:nsfw under cut:-

You felt the an aching between your thighs as you did your best to focus on whatever his mother was talking about. As Heeseung smiled fondly at his Mother as she gushed about a Broadway musical she went to see, you tried to smile as well.

Watching his lips curl up into a warm and sweet smile you imagined his head between your thighs, his tongue licking your clit. You feel a gush of wetness dampen your panties. "Shit,this is not the place for this." You mentally curse yourself.

"Baby?" Heeseung asks as both him and his mother's eyes are on you. Shit. They must have said something to you but because you're too busy drooling over heeseung's cock and thinking about the wetness in your panties, you have no clue what it was. You flushed under the attention of the two pairs of eyes, "sorry must have just zoned out."

You cover with a smile and while your lie was convincing enough for Heeseung's mother, he eyed you suspicously. He noticed your flushed cheeks, and the way you squeezed your thighs together underneath the table.

"How have things been at home without Heeseung when he is at work?" His mother repeats her question with a smile on her face. You plaster a fake smile on your face as you subtly reach under the table to place a hand on Heeseung's thigh. His jaw clenches slightly as his hand covers yours, he knows what you're going to do next and he doesn't feel like blowing his load while his mother sat across from him. It would be embrassing.

"Yeah, I practically ache for him when he's gone." You tell her and she covers your hand on the table with hers. His mother probably thinks you mean your heart aches when he's gone, and while that's true you also experience a much different aching in a different spot. You reach your hand further into his thigh. Heeseung sucks a small breath in through his teeth at your words, feeling tingles shooting down towards his southern region of his body.

His mother laughs at your answer launches into a speech about how wonderful you are for sticking by Heeseung, while you inch your hand up his thigh- and closer to his beautiful cock. You nod along, smiling sweetly and innocently as his mother continues to talk, and your fingers curl around his hardening cock through his jeans.

Heeseung's knee bumps the table as you squeeze him. It makes the crocery on the table jump a bit.

"You alright Lee Heeseung?" His Mother asks and he smirks in a casual manner before clearing his throat. "Mm yeah I'm good. The food inthe resturant is nice" He says and she eyes him for a moment before turning back to you.

You can almost see the pleading look in his eyes, but you're not sure if he's pleading you to keep going or to stop. You choose to believe he's begging you to continue as you begin to rub his cock through his jeans. Heeseung's hands fold together tightly on the table as he focuses his eyes straight ahead- doing his best to bite back a moan.

"You know I'm sure you get lonely when Hee's not around, must be hard to wander that house all by yourself." His mother comments and you grip him tighter, feeling his cock grow harder and harder against your hand. You nod, "Yeah it's really hard being there without him. I have to find various ways of occupying myself when he's too far away." You tell Heeseung's mother who nods along with your words, but Heeseung momentarily squeezes his eyes shut.

You slowly unbutton his jeans and his entire body tenses, if he feels your hand on his cock he's going to explode. "Seung honey you're sweating. Are you feeling alright?" His mother asks her son again. Heeseung nods as casually as he can, his heels digging into his chair. "Yeah yeah, just a little warm in here." He breathes and waves his hand about fanning his face, and you have to bite back a giggle at how flushed his cheeks are.

"You look feverish." She fusses, and Heeseung waves his hand as you slowly pull the zipper down and he knows you're moments away from dipping your hand into his boxers and pulling out his cock. "I'm okay Mom really." He insists and sure enough your hand wraps around his throbbing member, slowly pulling him out of his pants. Luckily the tablecloth conceals this to the other patrons. You begin to slowly and teasingly stroke him, rubbing your thumb over the tip.

Heeseung begins to groan but covers it with a cough, his hand gripping the edge of the table tightly. His mother dives into a conversation about some new cutlery Heeseung purchased her, praising how nice they are.

You squeeze him lightly at the base and you see Heeseung let out a strained breath. The way your fingers are stroking him so gently is driving him crazy, all he can think about right now is removing that tight little dress of yours and taking you right over this damn dinner table.

When his mother excuses herself to use the restroom, Heeseung is yanking your hand off of him. "You trying make me come right at this table babygirl? Hm? And infront of my damn mother?" He growls.

"You wanna see how long it takes before I make a mess?" Heeseung whispers hotly in your ear and you feel shivers run down your spine. You subtly rub your thighs together as Heeseung trails his hand up your dress on the outer thigh. " You want me to punish you? I would love too" Heeseung groans into your ear, casually leaning back in his chair when his mother returns to the table.

The throbbing between your legs is unbearable but you doubt Hee will let you come anytime soon tonight, his punishments usually involve a lot of teasing. Checking her watch, his mother bids you a goodnight and exits the restaurant, Heeseung already offered to pay the bill. He's so sweet to his Mother, and for some cute reason it only makes you hotter for him.

Heeseung grips your hand tightly as he pulls you out of the restaurant and towards the car. "You were a very bad girl." He hums lowly as you near the car. You shiver in excitement, you love it when he gets like this, all controlling and dominating. Once you're sat in the car, he puts one hand on the steering wheel, changes the gear and the other hand dives into your dress, slipping off your panty.

He draws a line from your clit. He dips one of his finger in his mouth, wetting it with saliva as he puts it into your clit.

Heeseung drives incredibly casually, one hand resting lazily on the steering wheel while the other slowly draws circles on your clit before he enters the finger into you.

He gives no indication of being turned on and if you didn't see his cock throbbing through his jeans, you'd think he wasn't affected by this at all. When the car rolls to a stop at a red light, Hee speds up his finger hitting all your good spots and then slows down all the way and you cry out. Your back is arching into nothing as his other fingers rub at your swollen clit.

You moan as your fingers grip the leather of the seat, "God Seungie, please let me come!" You beg but he hums with a smile on his face before he stops his fingers movement. You release a frustrated cry as you continue to writhe in the seat. You know you asked for this, you know you deserve all his teasing but damn you just want to come. "Mm not home yet baby, can't come yet." Heeseung hums, a satisfied smile creeping onto his face.

You gasp softly as he moves his finger with speed. When your hand nears his arm he pulls away. "Only good girls get what they want baby." Heeseung scolds and you groan, tears of sexual frustration prickling at your eyes. He turns into your neighborhood, and doesn't go a single mile over the 25 mph speed limit.

"You nearly made me come all over myself with your hands baby, there were people around. That's something a good girl does but infront of everyone is okay but not my mother." Hee says, his voice low and commanding as he takes out his finger from your cit as he licks it clean then changes gear.

Your eyes are squeezed shut as tears roll down your cheeks, you attempt to grind your hips down against the seat but you still don't receive the friction you crave. You're stuck teetering on the edge, getting just enough so that the feeling never dies down.

When Heeseung shuts the car off in your garage, he turns the car engine You nearly burst into tears as he exits the car, and follow suit. Your arousal drips down your legs as you follow him inside. Once the door to the garage is shut and you're both standing in the kitchen. Heeseung slowly places his keys on the hook, and slides his shoes off.

He moves leisurely about the kitchen, knowing that you're throbbing. "Baby please," You moan desperately, finally drawing his attention. Heeseung turns to you with an amused smile on his face, "doesn't feel good does it babygirl? Being so close to coming, and then never being able to." He takes slow steps towards you, his eyes dark and dominating as he burns holes through you with his heated gaze. "That's what you did to me in the restaurant." Heeseung says softly, his lips mere millimetres from your own.

Tears are still building in your eyes, you need to come so bad. "Baby, I teased you. I promise I'll make you come however many times you want I promise, just please touch me." You cry, tears dripping down your cheeks as the throbbing beings to ache more and more.

Heeseung hums with a smile on his face, "you're damn right you're gonna make me come. Now get on your knees for me babygirl." He whispers in your ear and you immediately drop to your knees in front of him, willing to do anything to get him to touch you. Your fingers shakily pop open the button of his jeans as he leans back against the counter, his hands gripping the edge.

You take him in your mouth and he groans, his head falling back. You take him as far as you can, covering the rest of his hard cock with your hand. "God you fucking suck me off so good baby," Heeseung groans, his hand winding in your hair. He pulls his bottom lip with his teeth as he uses his hand to push you down on him harder.

You moan as you continue to slide your lips down his cock. The vibrations of you moaning against him releases a string of curses under his breath. Hee pushes your head so far down him that you gag, and saliva dribbles down your chin. You feel his hips jerking just as your own thighs begin to shake and just as he comes in your mouth. You swallow every drop of his come as you look up at him with tear stained cheeks.

"You look so good like this baby, on your knees in front of me and crying for my cock." Heeseung hums as he leans back against the counter, trying to catch his breath. Hee strokes a hand through your hair before yanking his jeans back up and walking past you. Your core is burning with need as you stand to helplessly follow him up the stairs like a lost puppy.

You follow him to your shared bedroom, the vibrator slipping out of your pussy due to how slick you are. You pull it out and toss it on the bed as Heeseung strolls into the closet. "Heeseungie," You cry in need, unable to stop the tears of frustration as they flow down your cheeks. "Hm?" He hums in response from inside the walk in closet. You rub your thighs together strongly resisting the urge to reach down and touch yourself.

You know if you do that without his permission he definitely won't let you come tonight. "I've learned my lesson I promise, now please please make me come." You sob, watching with teary eyes as he emerges from the closet in only his tight black boxer briefs. "You think you've learned your lesson baby?" He coos in a gently voice, reaching up to cup your cheek.

You nod instantly, your hands reaching up to grab at his shoulders. "So when we're out, and you get needy for my cock what are you gonna do hm?" He asks, his eyebrow cocked as he strokes your cheek with his thumb.

"I'm gonna either not touch you or if I touch you I'II make you come before stopping touching you." You cry out desperately, and when you see the smile slide onto his face you nearly faint from relief. "That's my good girl," He growls before pushing you back on the bed.

He reaches for the hem of your shirt, before ripping it up and over your head. Heeseung releases the clasp of your bras and your sore nipples immediately spring free, and he smiles in delight. "You're so ready for me baby." He whispers before taking a nipple into his mouth. You cry out, happy to be getting some relief. Heeseung takes your nipple in between his teeth before biting softly, and you reach up to grab at his hair. "M-more baby more," You gasp and he obliges, kissing down your abdomen.

Your entire body feels like it's been set on fire as Heeseung yanks your jeans down your legs and off your ankles. When he spreads your legs he sees the wet mess between your thighs and bites his lip, "you're so wet baby. Did I tease you too much?" He asks playfully as you wriggle your hips towards his face.

Wrapping his arms around your thighs he presses a light kiss to your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure shooting through your body. Just the simple action has you crying into the pillow and Heeseung knows he's got you right where he wants you. Suddenly he flattens his tongue over you, licking a long line from your entrance to your clit. You cry out again, feeling lightheaded as your fists squeeze the sheets tightly. Moans are spilling from your mouth and when he slides 2 fingers into your slick opening, you know it won't be long before you're coming.

"Please don't stop baby please please." You plead, the word 'please' rolling off your lips like a mantra as he thrusts his fingers into you, his tongue toying at your clit. When Heeseung nips at your clit and roughly thrusts his fingers into you, you explode around his fingers. Your body convulses, and you cry out loudly, this time tears of relief cascading down your cheeks. Heeseung hovers over you, with a sweet smile on his face. "F-Fuck me." You plead again, that burning desire still slightly throbbing between your thighs. Heeseung doesn't need to be asked twice as he kicks his boxers off and presses his head into your lips. He drags his cock over your clit and you dig your nails into his back, "Daddy!" You cry out, having had enough of his teasing tonight.

Heeseung chuckles darkly as he slams into you, a broken groan leaving his lips. He begins to fuck into you at an ungodly pace and you cling to him, moans and desperate cries leaving your lips. Heeseung's lips find your neck and bite at the skin there as he continues to snap his hips into yours and every time his pelvis connects with yours, you're seeing stars. "Daddy please don't stop!" You cry out.

Heeseung feels you beginning to clench his fingers, and he moans deeply before reaching down to thumb your clit. "Fuck, come around me baby. Come around my cock." He gasps, breathless and as soon as the words leave his mouth you're coming again. White spots explode behind your eyes as you gush around him so hard you don't even realize he's emptying his load into you. You roll your eyes in pleasure.

Your body shakes and trembles as Heeseung gently fucks you through your orgasm, both of your bodies covered in a sheen layer of sweat. Your hands stay wrapped securely around his back as your heart races in your chest. You wince as he pulls out, already wishing to be filled by his cock again.

"Don't tease me." Heeseung hums as he pulls you over to lay on his chest. You giggle as you press a kiss to his shoulder, "I'm going to tease you all the damn time if it means you'll fuck me like that." You retort and you can practically feel his eye roll.

"Baby you drive me crazy." He groans before rolling over you again, and you know he means it- and you love it..

THE END~~

Comment down to be added to my taglist. My first story tbh..

[kmomof4]

I. Am. DYING!!!

Cannot WAIT for more!!!

running home to your sweet nothings, chapter 2

STORY SUMMARY: His informality is refreshing; like water in a desert, Emma is parched and desperate for more.

“Take note, Princess, that I take no pleasure in pointing out the susceptibilities of your security or skills. It is my loyalty to you that wants you to remain safe.” There’s an earnestness to his voice and Emma feels her cheeks heat. His breath fans against her face in soft puffs as he speaks and the corner of his mouth lifts in a small smile.

“What have I done to earn such loyalty other than wear a crown?” she asks in an equally quiet voice. She’s breathless as she speaks but she yearns for his unfiltered response.

// or the four gifts of killian jones

RATING: M for Mature Audience (Implied sexual conduct, violence)

WORD COUNT: 9,002 words

TAGS: Alternative Universe, Enchanted Forest AU, Blacksmith!Killian, Violence, Implied Sexual Conduct

AO3

AUTHOR'S NOTE: had over 5k of this chapter sitting on my computer for well over a year. and have had 8k of chapter 3 for even longer than that (but who knows what of that will be kept).

anyway the first part of this chapter and the last part are my favorites, especially the first. the last part has been in my mind since i expanded this story beyond the prompt of gifts from killian lol. so yay for finally writing it! <3

having a lot of trouble staying inspired for ouat, especially over the last few months as i fundamentally disagree with some cast members stances. sorry not sorry for my inability to separate art from the artist. just trying to empty out my WIPs folder on my folder so i can fully move on. current WIPs will be finished. at some point.

anyway (x2) enjoy! sorry its been a year and a half lol

***

two and a half centuries ago.

late summer.

ella.

Her fingertips feel like fire.

Water crashes against the steep cliffs of Segovia and the freezing sea jumps up and nips at her exposed ankles. She pays no attention to the chill that travels her body or the way her sandy blonde hair whips in her face from the harsh winds. Instead, she keeps her eyes closed and hands held out in front of her.

Her magic gets weaker each time she uses it.

Magic had been thought to be extinct for years in Misthaven, the inhabitants losing it centuries back. The fairies retained their magic but even with their resources, could find no reasoning behind the loss for Misthaven’s people. Some of those in Misthaven believed that the Dark One was draining the land and its people of their magic for a dark curse but none had been cast. Others felt the magic was limited and once it was gone, there was no replenishing it.

And then Ella had been born as a product of True Love, and the first glance at pure magic in nearly three centuries. Her magic was respected by most and feared by others. When the Second Ogre War started a year ago, it became an expectation that she’d use her magic to help Misthaven succeed.

So she did. Her mother always told her to have courage and be kind, and what better way to live that to the fullest than doing all she could to protect the other citizens of Misthaven from a hostile takeover by the ogres?

Except… her magic is waning.

Like a wet cloth being hung to dry, she feels herself slowly losing her magic until there is close to none left. It is proving to be a problem on the battlefield as she doesn’t have the energy or the magic anymore to keep Misthaven from sending in soldiers.

Without her magic, she has no way to protect Kit.

She feels a momentary surge of energy flow through her body as her magic weaves through the dirt and pebbles on the cliffside, feels it singing as it circles a collection of ferrum.

There’s not much left, she thinks to herself of both the rocks and her magic.

Her work is hasty and not as clean as she wishes it could be but she knows that time is against her now.

Ella pulls the ferrum rocks from their place in an alcove on the cliff and piles them on a flat area. The sea water is getting rougher and wets her hair, her dress beyond repair from how the elements have thrashed it about. She quiets her mind and focuses on her Kit, letting her magic flow through her for one of the last times.

Black hair with a curl to it she loved to run her fingers through. A big heart guarded behind a charming smile. Those piercing blue eyes that could keep her rooted to the spot. He had her heart from the moment they met on horseback and she never looked back.

Her hands are burning as she opens her eyes. The rocks have transformed from separate entities into pieces of armor. Lining the edges of each piece is a design born from their love.

Stags to symbolize their first meeting. Shoes to symbolize how they found one another. A vine to connect to the three symbols together, representing their partnership and bond.

The last of her magic flares under her fingertips and Ella picks up the chest plate, lifting it to her face.

“Please take care of my love,” she whispers, sealing her plea with a soft kiss and a spark.

A feeling of emptiness envelops her in an embrace and she fights to wrap her arms around herself to keep out the cold it brings. She doesn’t have time to wallow in the loss of something so intricate to who she is. To stand there and focus on the ache in her heart or the hollow feeling in her chest is precious time wasted when she could be helping.

Ella takes a deep breath and marches past the longing in her fingertips for something just out of reach and instead gathers the armor she’s crafted. She cannot afford to let her emotions take control at this moment. That can wait for her lonely bedchambers late in the night when no one can hear her cry. For now, she needs to see her Kit off.

*

five and twenty.

early winter.

somewhere in the enchanted forest.

emma.

The flying simians attack on their fifth day.

*

Leaving Misthaven comes with an ease that unsettles Emma. The tension coiling around her shoulders refuses to alleviate as the castle walls become mere specks when she looks behind herself. Her posture remains rigid, her fitted armor, a gift from Killian, digs into her forearms from how restricted she keeps her movements.

Horse riding has never been a favorite activity of Emma’s. Being taught to sit astride a giant beast in the few moments of freedom she had growing up always felt more uncomfortable than liberating. Forever the black sheep of her family, her parents and their friends would guide their horses with ease while her confidence remained shaky.

Years have passed since her first riding lessons and yet unease still sits in the pit of her stomach. However, this time she can’t tell if it’s from the animal being squeezed between her boney knees or the mission she’s assigned herself.

She knows Killian believes her actions to be dumb, reckless, and completely unnecessary, but this is for her people. She has to protect them.

Besides, she will not let him throw himself on a sword just to spare her the slight inconvenience and possible danger. He’s much too important to her for her to let him volunteer himself like he tried. And he should give her more credit – he did teach her how to defend herself after all.

Emma ducks her head when a branch gets in her path and nearly falls off of her horse when she tries to sit up again.

A roaring laugh escapes a knight from behind her and she knows immediately that it belongs to Will Scarlet.

The knights that are with her trot through the forest without a worry as they move through Misthaven’s trees. This is just another day for them, another assignment, another potential battle. They have seen the worst of the worst and it has not scared them away yet.

Her bravado has been a front and she’s sure at least some of the most experienced of the group could read through it. But her people need her and if she must fake the confidence of a seasoned general, then she will do so, no matter how inadequate she feels.

The last and only time she’d gone to battle had been against Regina. The Evil Queen had caught them all off-guard, able to sneak into Misthaven by piggybacking on the magic of a fairy, they learned months after the fact, and Emma was unprepared, her magic unruly and uncontrollable.

“She must have been weak,” Emma tried to reason as Blue stood by her bed, her parents sitting at the foot.

“You have powerful magic, Princess,” Blue explained. “Magic belonging to True Love. Most magic users access their power through intellect. For them, it is a learned skill. You are rare, Princess Emma. You were born with it and you access your magic through your emotions. Emotions have the ability to create incredible magic, especially light magic, the likes of which the realm has never seen before.” She watched the fairy’s eyes slide over to her parents. Never before had she felt like such a fraud.

“The magic I used wasn’t light. I was angry. I wanted her gone,” Emma choked out.

Blue shook her head. “Anger is easy. It is the most natural emotion there is. The magic you used was made from love, Princess Emma. Love is the most powerful magic of all.”

She pulled her blankets tighter around her body, dragged her knees to her chest.

It certainly didn’t feel like love. How can ending someone’s life come from love? How can allowing them to suffer and not feeling remorse for it come from love?

Emma felt empty. She mentally reached towards her magic to feel it straining to return her call. What had always been an overabundance in her life – a threat to herself and those she loved – was barely there.

“What happened to it?” she asked, eyes full of tears and her hand shaking as she held it out of the blanket. “My magic,” she continued, voice cracking. “It – it isn’t all there. What happened to it?”

She missed the looks of sympathies shared between the three adults in the room before they broke the news to her.

Too much magic. Exhausted it. Body needed to recover. Might not come back.

She wept.

At least now, as she rides towards an unknown foe, she finds comfort in the fact that she’s not unprepared.

The sword Killian made for her bounces against her upper thigh as the horse below her trots down the dirt pathways. Its’ comforting weight at her side keeps the lessons he taught her in her mind. Their sparing sessions have made her almost as good of a swordsman as he is and holding a sword no longer feels awkward. His work has made her feel like the sword is an extension of her hand.

It also, unsurprisingly, feels like home.

Because with every remembrance of their sparing sessions, she recalls the feel of his lips against her mouth and his skin on hers. The way his raised eyebrow and smirk could make her heart race and how his presence made her feel like her magic was sparking back to life.

Her fingertips tingle and Emma glances down and imagines a faint glow surrounding them before the neigh of a horse breaks her reprieve.

Robin rides to her left while Will rides to her right, Lancelot and Little John scouting ahead with Dorothy following up behind. It is an odd group of knights that gathered at the barn to follow her along enemy lines but she trusts their abilities.

Robin, Lancelot, and Dorothy are the veterans of the group. The years of their training together totaling just shy of twice Emma’s age. Little John prefers to stay back, his tall stature a hindrance more often than not, but his abilities with a bow and arrow are lethal. Will is the youngest of the group, energetic like some of the pups on nearby farmlands and eager to prove himself worthy, though there’s an edge to his attitude that gives way to the wisdom learned on the streets he dragged himself from.

His sometimes-skittish behavior reminds her of what Killian must have been like as a boy before he and his brother happened upon Misthaven’s shores.

The trees are quiet for most of their ride. Branches and leaves sway in the wind, a soft rustling filling the silent air. Robin quickly established a system amongst the group – silence in the forest, ears searching for any sign of the enemy, and chatter allowed in the villages they pass. As they continue their journey, the villages become farther and farther between, silence becoming their most often companion.

The green of the forest brings a sense of comfort to Emma. They remind her of the color of her mother’s eyes and if she closes her own hard enough, she can imagine herself back at the castle, debating in the war room about next steps once Emma has news for her.

Her mother sends birds often. She realizes quickly that she must have her own system for ensuring one reaches her every few hours during the first two days. As much as this is her first big journey away from the castle, one her parents tried to talk her out of, this is also their first time being away from her. So she welcomes the birds and sends her own short messages back, confirming her safety and decreeing no news.

Longing burrows in her chest as by the third day, the birds only come twice. When the sun rises on the fourth, her mother’s accompanying note breaks the news she would only be able to send one bird a day.

Loneliness fights to take hold.

“There was once a family in Arendelle who had a tutor staying in their home,” Will starts as they near the outskirts of a village. Their travel companions groan and Emma bites back a smile. Propriety is hard to drop, even for this ragtag group, but Will sheds it fastest and most often. The earlier chastising from Robin fell on deaf ears as, to all of their mortification, Will told the dirtiest joke to ever grace Emma’s ears.

The snorting laugh he earned from his princess seemed to only spur the knight on further, as every village they arrived at brought forth another joke.

It eases her burdens, lessens the stress on her shoulders, and lets her forget the danger ahead, even if just for a moment.

“The tutor came so often that he felt himself at home and even had a turn with the housemaid, the nurse, and the mistress herself.” Emma’s gasp only brings a wolfish grin to Will’s face and she spots from the corner of her eye the death glare that Robin is sending his way. “When the master of the house discovered this, he summoned the young man to his private chamber and said, ‘I find it unmannerly of you, sir, that in taking your please of my entire household, you have made an exception of me.’”

Her roaring laugh echoes in the quiet village and she notices that even Lancelot, propriety in the flesh, cracks a grin.

“Where do you come up with this stuff?” she wonders.

“The gutter, undoubtedly,” Dorothy pipes up.

“I don’t visit you that often,” Will shoots back, his grin widening at the hard stare and white-knuckled grip of his comrade. “I learned meself such a grand knowledge like any growing lad did – eavesdropping at the tavern.”

Robin’s horse trots forward just slightly as the man leans over to catch a proper look at Will. “All of that eavesdropping and not a single manner picked up?”

“You give him too much credit!” Little John calls from the front.

“Oi! Just because I’m ordered not to kill you doesn’t mean I can’t.”

“Get a new line already, Scarlett!”

“Settle down, boys,” Dorothy says. “We’re getting close to the village center.”

Lancelot immediately adds, “Eyes out. Something’s not right.”

She registers the smell a few moments later and recoils in disgust.

Smoke. Wood. Flesh.

The distinct smell of burning flesh haunts her nightmares, lingers in the back of her throat as an aftertaste when her thoughts go astray. A quick succession of deep breaths keeps the urge to retch at bay. Still, she cannot will her horse to move.

“Princess Emma,” Robin calls softly, spotting and turning back to her. He lets the others go before them and she watches as they cover their noses and mouths with a cloth. It would be wise to do the same but her muscles won’t move. “Princess Emma,” Robin tries again. “Are you alright?”

“I – I’m fine,” she insists. He only nods and eyes her for a moment.

“Best cover up. You don’t want to be breathing in things like this.” He hands her a spare cloth and she ties it behind her head, mimicking Robin’s own movements. When she completes it, he gives her a nod and a smile, from what she can tell by his crinkling eyes. He gestures her forward but it takes a minute for her body to listen to her commands.

Their ride towards the nearby village settles a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. Images of Regina flash in her head no matter how hard she tries.

She spends the walk reliving Regina’s death. The way her skin melted under her gaze. The lack of guilt for what she’d done.

It terrifies her how clear everything still is for her.

Keeping her mind in the present is the hardest part so Emma tries to listen for any noises from around them.

The village is still a half hour away yet the entire forest is as if all signs of life have disappeared. No birds chirping – not even the ones that her mother has been sending after her to keep in touch. No crickets making music, no bees buzzing, not even the rustling of the tree branches.

Silence has never terrified her as much as this.

Ten minutes from the center of the village and they see another person for the first time. They struggle to walk and burns cover most of their body. Like in a trance, they ignore every offer of help coming from Emma and her companions. She moves to get off her horse when the person throws up, blood decorating the forest floor, before collapsing into the pool of their own fluids. The sight takes her breath away and she has to blink away the tears.

“Stay close,” Lancelot warns as they reach the settlement.

Stragglers stumble their way down the streets of the village. Their clothing disheveled and singed in spots, thatched roofs gone from most of the buildings and some still burn as they enter. It looks as if a storm of wind and fire rolled through and the village has yet to recover.

Something large sails overhead, a bird looking much different than she’d ever seen before. Its cawing sounds are unlike anything she’s heard before and it sends a chill down her spine. Four days on the road and an unsettling feeling returns to the center of her chest. She works hard to calm her panicking heart and instead places her trust in the guards around her.

“Let’s find a place to settle for the night,” Robin says, eyes darting to the sky.

They discuss quickly and quietly where the best place would be and settle on an abandoned stable nearby. A river runs behind it and even that doesn’t make a sound.

The stable doesn’t seem to have been damaged by storms like so many homes have been in the village, meaning something else drove the family away. Her only guess is the nearby enemy encampments, but this feels like something more.

Almost like there’s magic waiting for her across the river but what little there is in her can’t reach far enough to grab it and understand what is happening.

Instead, they pair up and ensure that everyone has someone looking out for them. Emma’s never felt so vulnerable until she had to empty her bladder as Dorothy remained vigilant on all that surrounds them. Someone could come up behind them at any moment and her sword was lying on the ground at her feet, swallowed by her riding trousers.

She quickly finds comfort in pulling her dagger from her boot and holding it in her hand as she goes.

Most of the villagers don’t even spare them a second glance as they move about. There’s a haunted look in their eyes that makes Emma roll her shoulders in an attempt to ease the brewing tension. Odd shapes keep flying between the treetops casting unfamiliar shadows on the ground. The animals never come close enough to identify but Emma still feels their eyes glaring into the back of her head.

The group finishes the necessary tasks quickly before retreating back to the stables come nightfall.

The horses stomp restlessly as they settle in during the late evening. The hair on the back of her neck stands up at their unease and the feeling spreads throughout their group. Wailing – the heart-wrenching, sore throat, dry heaving kind – echoes from different corners of the village and grief hangs heavy in the air.

“We won’t stay for more than a night,” Lancelot says. “One guard at all times. No one leaves this stable tonight. Is that understood?” A round of nods comes from the group and the knight assigns shifts.

“What about me?” Emma asks.

“With all due respect, Princess, I cannot afford to have you on guard. Rest. Your work is tomorrow.”

His decision is hard to swallow but Emma nods anyway. It wouldn’t do good to throw a tantrum among the people whose job is to protect her. She will let it slide for tonight, her stomach twisting in uncomfortably fast motions. But tomorrow she will take part.

It takes a great effort to not stomp and grumble on her way to her sleeping spot but apparently it still isn’t good enough as it gets a laugh from Robin. He lounges against one of the closed stable doors, a picture of ease with his legs stretched in front of him and his ankles crossed.

She halfheartedly glares at the man before she attempts to fluff the hay. It’s certainly a far cry from a palace pillow but it’ll have to do.

“Is everything alright, Princess Emma?” he asks. They are the only two at their end of the stables, the others working over a strategy near the entrance.

“I had hoped for better accommodations,” she answers after a moment, teasing smile on her lips. He grins quick even as her attention drifts to the huddle once again.

“Apologies, Your Highness. Next time we will find the stable with silk sheets and a feathered bed.”

Instead of continuing in a light banter, she keeps her focus on Lancelot. “You know I am capable with a sword,” she says, her tone questioning.

“Of course, Princess,” Robin answers. His lips quirk up as if entertained.

“Then I should be on watch as well. You all need as much rest as possible for us to continue our journey tomorrow.”

“While I have no doubts in your abilities, it is best for you to rest tonight.”

“I am not that tired.”

Almost immediately after the words leave her mouth, she fights back a yawn and fails. Robin grins at the attempt. He watches her for a moment before a somber expression graces his features. “You are not underestimated, please know that,” he starts. “But we have no clue what attacked the village. Your safety is our top priority and it will make all of our lives easier if you accept that as well.”

His words serve as a necessary reminder that everyone with her is risking their own lives for her mission. They are trailing the edges of enemy territory, an enemy that gets more terrifying the more they discover, and are hoping to sneak to the site for materials unnoticed. It’s a monumental task, one with no guarantee of return, and she bites hard on her tongue to repress the urge wanting to say she can do it on her own.

She’s felt like she’s been on her own for so long, trapped in her golden cage dressed as a palace. Forced to be her own friend and entertain herself, teach herself things her parents were too scared of, coping with her situation all alone.

She was on her own against Regina, her parents powerless to stop her. She was alone when she woke up in the infirmary months later and without an idea of what happened.

Always so alone, always so lonely.

Then Killian inserted himself into her life for one night and flipped everything on its head. Immediately they fell into the role of partners with a common task, working together silently, clicking right away. For the first time in her life, loneliness was not her only companion.

The time after he disappeared allowed that numbing loneliness to creep its way back into her life only to be banished once again at his return.

She loves her people and would do anything for them but in truth… He is who she is doing all of this for. He is who she will return home to.

Robin’s face holds a far-off look and Emma’s heart clenches at the familiarity of it.

“Do you have anyone you’d like to write a message to? I can have one of my mother’s birds deliver it…” she offers, hesitant and uncomfortable. As much as they have found a banter within the group over their days of travel, Emma still doesn’t know the knights guarding her on her mission. They are familiar faces, ones she’s seen throughout the palace over the years, but Killian is the natural extrovert, learning about everyone he meets. She barely remembers any of their last names but she’s sure he could recall every story they’ve ever told him.

He'd make a wonderful leader. His courage, strength, bravery, sense of justice… Killian is everything a people should hope their leader to be and yet he still deems himself unworthy for some reason. Despite that, they cannot deny themselves the connection that stretches between them. She closes her eyes and hears his voice in her ear about how they make quite the team. It becomes all she can focus on and she feels a warmth fill her body, the outside world sounding softer, more far away. The sensations stay with her when she opens her eyes again and even when she manages to let a yawn slip.

Robin has a soft look on his face as their eyes meet. “Thank you,” he says. “I’ll scribe something in the morning so you’ll have it ready.”

She nods her head and settles in, back against the bale of hay. The armor, a gift from Killian a few years ago, digs into her arms and waist. She shifts unable to find a comfortable lounging position and stifles another yawn to Robin’s amusement.

“What?” she huffs.

“Nothing, nothing…” he trails off with an amused smile. “You just remind me of my son. Roland.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, he’s also quite stubborn to sleep.” He pauses. “He’s five.”

A roll of her eyes earns another chuckle from his direction but Emma concedes and lays her head down.

Sleep finds her in a light sort of way, dangling on the edge of consciousness and never letting her slip deep enough to dream. It is the sleep of someone on alert.

The creaking of the stable door is quiet for the most part but the sound still dances in Emma’s ears. She awakens, eyes blinking slowly as she tries to adjust to the darkness of the stable. Little John’s tall figure fills the only light coming into the stables from the gap in the door and Emma barely realizes, based on the shift rotation, that it’s the middle of the night.

“Whatsthematter?” Her words slur together as sleep circles the borders of her consciousness. A soft rain patters against the wood roof and she can hear the soft stomps of footsteps in mud.

“Someone’s in trouble,” Little John says in a quiet urgence. He keeps turning his head to look out the door and Emma struggles to sit up with her armor on.

“I’ll help,” she manages to say but before she can get up, Little John is outside, the stable door slamming shut behind him. The sound reverberates around the enclosed structure, immediately waking the other knights. They rush to a standing position and bombard her with questions that she doesn’t have answers to. Her mind runs blank and she only relays the short sentences they exchanged.

Robin picks up his crossbow from beside his sleeping area and slings it over his shoulder.

“You are not going after him,” Lancelot says, stepping into Robin’s path.

“Little John is like a brother to me! I’m not leaving him alone out there!”

“And going out after him, in this weather and in a town as dangerous as this, will weaken all of us.” Lancelot breathes out heavily, glancing at the stoic expression on Dorothy’s face and the crestfallen look on Will’s. “We will search at dawn. We will be able to track his footprints in the mud then. For now, rest.”

Robin stands still in a stare-off with Lancelot. Though neither one moves, their eyes dart around, a silent conversation amongst comrades, until Robin steps back in defeat and practically throws his crossbow to the ground. Will moves forward in a quick motion and brings Robin to a far corner of the stables, whispering quiet reassurances to the older gentleman.

“We’re going to find him, alright?” Will says in a whisper that just barely makes Emma’s ear.

“Come on,” Dorothy says from her other side and Emma jumps. “Get back to sleep.”

“But –”

“No buts. Sleep is the best thing you can do right now. Got it?”

Emma nods, sighing heavily. Her eyes watch the different knights amongst her. The ability to read lips is not one that she possesses but she still tries, to no avail. Her questions go unanswered as they talk to each other and not her, and exhaustion tugs at the back of her mind again.

So she lays her head on a bale of hay and clutches her dagger under the folds of her riding outfit with one ear out for the slightest noise.

The next morning, the group sets out to look for Little John. A search that very quickly becomes useless. Little John’s tracks stop five feet from the stable with no indication of where else he could have gone.

Dorothy growls in frustration. “It doesn’t make any sense. There’s nowhere he could’ve gone. His tracks stop right here. Nothing more.”

Robin mumbles to himself while he alternates his glare between Lancelot and the ground. Emma’s heart feels for the Black knight. Leadership means making the tough decisions and she knows from the look of apprehension on his face that his next plan will not be a popular one.

Expectedly, there is a fight about pausing their search to continue forward with the mission. Lancelot stands his ground though and within a few hours, they’re back on their trek, horses trotting through the forest grounds. Everyone does double duty with their eyes scanning the ground for any clues of Little John’s whereabouts with no success.

Will slows his horse to come beside Emma by the late afternoon. “How are you holding up?” he asks.

Her mind has been elsewhere the entire ride. Killian occupies most of her thoughts, a centering focus that keeps her from losing herself in despair. The way he raises a single eyebrow at her to tease, taunt, and flirt. The feeling of his arms around her waist. How he loves to use the rough skin of his stump to tickle her side. His eyes, bluer than any ocean she’d seen with depths of untold stories he’s yet to share with her.

She focuses on what will happen when she gets home. He’ll no doubt want to reprimand her for kissing a commoner in front of the guards, regardless of the fact the commoner was him, and she’ll try to ignore his pushes to talk.

But then Emma remembers how one of those guards is now missing and her “when she gets home” turns into an “if she gets home”.

If she still had her magic, she could’ve found Little John by now. She could have magicked herself to the cliffs of Segovia and home within a day. No one would have disappeared. Her kingdom wouldn’t be closing in on a nearly six-decade war with more losses than stars in the sky and already stretched incredibly thin. Killian wouldn’t have been inspired to sign up and he’d still have his hand.

Anger races through her blood and she feels her body grow warm, cheeks get hot under her fury. It all leads back to Regina. Living off of revenge against a child who was manipulated when she thought she was helping… the pain of her refusal to see the truth – see that Regina’s mother was to blame and not young Snow – led to more death and destruction than any of them thought possible. The Ogre Wars hadn’t harmed them this deeply. It’s all Regina’s fault.

Her thoughts stop in a sudden beat as Emma gasps, dropping the reins of her horse. Her hands feel hot to the touch, almost like they’re burned. Flexing her fingers does little to ease the pain and she ignores the way her hands start to shake.

She must have been subconsciously wringing the reins too hard to cause such a sensation.

Will rushes to grab the fallen reins. “Princess?” he pushes. “Are you okay?”

She clears her throat and clenches one hand in a fist while the other takes back the leather straps.

Is she okay? Absolutely not. The weight of her mission is starting to bear down on her shoulders. Little John’s disappearance has thrown her off and she already feels herself slipping away from reality. But she won’t tell Will that. Instead, she pivots the conversation and meets his eyes in a firm stare.

“I promise that I will get you all home safe. Got it?”

He hisses in disappointment. “That’s not an answer to my question.”

Emma huffs. “How are you doing?”

“I asked you first.”

“You’re not serious…”

“Deadly,” he deadpans only to wince and Emma’s sure his mind has gone to the same place as hers – Little John.

So she whispers, fiercely and filled with determination, “I promise.”

*

They stop in the middle of the forest in the late afternoon. Tension fills the air with every moment of silence until it becomes suffocating but no one does anything to break it for a long time. Little John’s disappearance weighs heavily on them all but their mission is, as much as Emma hates to say it, more important. If Killian is right and the minerals have been replenished since its last harvest a few hundred years ago, it could save hundreds if not thousands of their people. It could put this senseless war to an end once and for all.

They just needed to survive until then.

Lancelot sets his orders that this will be their camp for the night with two guards on the lookout at all times. The risk of riding in the dark after what happened to Little John has them on edge. They wanted to look their enemy in the eyes as they extinguished the life behind it.

Everyone in their group has killed before. It was a cruel casualty of war. But Emma could never relish in the suffering to come from such a death. Regina’s last minutes play on a constant repeat behind her eyelids and she cannot imagine adding anyone else to that scene.

Hunting occupies half of the group’s late afternoon hours while the other half sets up their tents. It is a tricky endeavor, as Lancelot’s orders are to establish one large makeshift tent for everyone. Safety, he had reassured her earlier.

By the time Will and Dorothy return with a number of small game hanging between each of them, a fire is being stoked in the middle of the tent and sleep schedules have been arranged. Dinner is a quiet affair with a heavy tension hanging over their heads like a storm cloud. An empty space sits between Robin and Will where Little John would have sat.

Their silent meal is broken when Robin clears his throat.

“I would like to still scribe that letter, if it’s alright,” he directs to Emma, his gaze leaving the burning fire only after he has finished speaking.

“Of course,” she answers softly. Swallowing, she looks around the group. “Does anyone else have anything they’d like to write home?” For a moment, she feels as if she’s requesting their departing words to be left for family. For what other reason would they need to write home only days after leaving?

“I reckon I have a few things I need to receive an update on,” Will says. He leans forward on the log beside her and spreads his legs apart so his knee can nudge hers in a gentle show of support. “I have a few bets I need to collect on.”

Dorothy rises to the bait even if her words sound the slightest forced. “I think you mean debts to pay.”

“I beg your pardon,” he huffs. “I am an excellent gambler.”

“Is that why your bets have paid for Ruby’s new wardrobe?” Dorothy smirks and continues, raising her sword in front of her as she examines it in the firelight. “I believe this came from a wager settled last month.”

“Oi! Ruby is a cheat and you know it!”

“I’ll be sure to mention that in my letter to her.”

The group gains volume as their teasing returns slowly. Emma’s eyes dart across the bonfire to Robin and she sends a nod of thanks. Little John’s fate still hangs heavy in the air but for a moment, they have a reprieve.

Before the fire dies down, the group settles near to write their letters.

“Who will you be writing to?” Dorothy asks Emma as she grabs her own parchment.

Lancelot grins and looks up for a moment. “Killian, of course.” Her mouth drops open in surprise at the normally quiet leader speaking up with such a taunting line. Mind focused on her own words, she half listens as Dorothy details what she plans to say to Ruby and how Lancelot is best dictating his letter to Guinevere.

Will smirks as he looks to Emma from the corner of his eye. “I’m writing to my Anastasia,” he says proudly, though his voice is low. Dorothy and Lancelot handed her their letters before taking the first watch and Will doesn’t want to disturb Robin’s heavy concentration. “I’m going to marry her when I get back.”

“You’re engaged?!”

“Oi! Don’t sound so surprised! I’m quite the catch, ya know.” Will’s grin only widens.

“Not surprised, just offended I was not invited to the wedding.”

“Well,” her companion drags out. He scratches behind his ear in a nervous tick, a movement that has her heart yearning for Killian. “We’re not engaged yet. I still have to ask her.” He clears his throat and straightens his back. “But I will, the moment we return. Well, after I ask her father.”

Emma smiles softly as she watches Will’s lovesick expression. “You truly love her,” she says, more to herself than to him. Still, Will gives her a small smile and a nod.

She feels a rush of warmth in her stomach as she listens to Will’s words of love for Anastasia, her mind wandering to Killian once again. She misses him terribly and wishes he could be beside her but she knows the best place for him is back home, preparing for their return.

Well, some of their returns.

When the scratch of Will’s quill comes to an end, Emma chances a glance at Robin before asking quietly. “Little John… did he have anyone back home?”

A sharp inhale. “Little John kept personal things to himself, mostly,” Will says regretfully. His gaze casts a burden across the fire. “I’m not the best person to ask.”

Robin keeps to himself as he starts, scratches out, and then restarts his letter to Roland. Emma wonders how close they were to the missing knight. Did they grow up together? Are their families close? Emma bids goodnight to Will before she stands from her log and walks around the fire to Robin.

“Are you telling him to be asleep by sunset?” she asks with a small lift of her lips.

Robin huffs, glancing up briefly. “If only that were enough to get him to bed on time.”

“You should tell him it is by orders of the princess.” The grin their share is fleeting but it offers a momentary reprieve from the day’s events.

“You may sit if you’d like, Princess Emma.”

Sitting presents a challenge each time she attempts it due to the soreness of her muscles. Horse riding and trekking like they have been is far from her usual activities. She leans awkwardly to the side before nearly tipping over completely as her bottom situates itself on the log. Her eyes gaze into the dwindling flames before her while Robin scrawls his name and folds the letter.

He holds the parchment out to her with a sad smile. “Little John was married once,” he says. Her fingers gingerly take the letter from his and she feels the weight of his words, her shoulders dropping beneath it. “She was a beautiful woman. Long dark hair and a smile that spelled trouble. She bewitched him from the first moment.” Robin laughs. “They had a son as well.”

Her companion’s smile drops and at that, so does Emma’s stomach. For she sees the turn of events before her eyes in the pause Robin takes. She sees the grief coloring his face and the regret that fills his eyes.

“Little John was helping me save my wife Marian when his village was attacked. He returned to an empty home.” Robin turns his gaze towards the fire and she witnesses the way his frame shrinks in on itself. “He lost his family while helping me save mine. Never once did he blame me. By all accounts, he should have. Instead, he stayed at my side and helped me raise Roland after I lost Marian.”

His breath shudders as he shakes his shoulders, a quiet sniffle as tears become harder to keep at bay. “We are the only family he has left, Princess Emma. And I will find him.”

His eyes meet hers in steely determination and Emma nearly promises him the same as she did Will. But the darkness of the night is creeping in on her fear and she worries this will be a promise she cannot keep. So she nods and sits and thinks. For the first time in a long time, she prays to any gods that are listening, to the same gods that saved Killian and brought him to her life.

*

“Three and twenty and not a suitor to show for it,” Emma mimics in a low-pitched voice. She crawls across the bed wearing only Killian’s discarded shirt and plops to a sit beside him.

Killian barely looks up from where he scribbles in his notebook, his back against the headboard and his head tilted low. “Who had said this again?”

“Grumpy.”

She crosses her arms in a huff as Killian doesn’t even attempt to hide his amusement. “Perhaps you do not have any suitors because they do not wish to sit through your terrible impersonations.”

Her next attempt at his own accent makes her tongue feel too big for her mouth and her words to be more garbled than coherent. His laughter has her fighting a smile and she only contains so much self-restraint so instead she leans over and hides her smile with his mouth.

Their lips barely separate when she whispers conspiratorially, “Or perhaps they found out the princess has been kidnapped by a pirate captain who spends his free time ravishing her in his cabin.”

“Arggg,” Killian attempts with a curled lip and narrowed eyes. He lifts his left hand and crooks his finger to look like a hook and Emma giggles wildly.

Being with him makes her feel lighter. He makes her happy.

Emma watches the port every day now that the Jewel and her captain have found a home at these docks. She attends the meetings he has with her parents to give updates on the sea front and they exchange nods as their departing promises. A sturdy rope ladder, a commission by Killian from another port, is frequently pulled from beneath her bed and draped outside her window. Apparently her string of sheets caused him too much worry. She merely rolled her eyes at the admission.

His cabin is warm and welcoming. Blankets litter not only his bed but also the window seat on the back wall facing the ocean. Pillows from their land and far away shores pile on every surface. Some map or another is typically spread across his table while the books on any available flat surface change every few weeks.

The sun streams in as a comforting orange glow each evening and wakes her with the palest yellow light in the early morns. The weight of his arm over her stomach acts as a comforting shield from her fears, both past and present.

White wooden walls of cabin feel more like home than the gray stone of the castle.

Or perhaps it is just simply him.

The reminders of his presence are spread throughout his cabin where they are absent in her lonely bed in the tower. His smell lingers on his pillows and clothes while her room suffocates her in gifted perfumes. The small, lumpy captain’s bed adheres to the curves of her body when she drowns in her large, feathered mattress.

Stresses of their ongoing war melt away when she hides under his bedcovers and has his grin to marvel at. There’s warmth in her chest and a spark at her fingertips when they’re together and she swears sometimes that being with him, loving him, is magic.

They share another kiss, brief but soft and all-consuming, before Killian sighs.

“You’re set to meet with your father at half past,” he says regretfully.

She rolls her eyes with a groan and slides off the bed. “Perhaps I do not actually have to go.”

“Perhaps you should like my head on a stake then?”

The urge to roll her eyes again at his dramatics is strong but she refrains. “My father has no interest in executing his right-hand man.”

“That’s simply because he does not know,” Killian starts. He rises to his knees and inches closer to the side of the bed where she stands. Her shirt half unbuttoned, his fingers finish the job as he presses light kisses trailing from her chest to her stomach. “That my meetings with the princess are of a more personal matter.”

The scruff of his facial hair slides against a particularly ticklish spot on her ribs and she squirms away with a giggle, nearly tripping over her sword and dagger as they clang together in a soft sound.

“I do enjoy these meetings,” she grins wickedly. “I learn so much.”

A shriek leaves her throat as Killian clambers out of bed to grab her but Emma evades his pursuit. She quickly gathers her pile of clothes and weaponry. Another soft ding fills the room.

Laughing, she says, “I really must go.” Sorting her clothes is easy enough, even with the soft dings coming from the pile. She quickly dresses. Hands cover her own as she attaches her sword to her belt, her brow furrowing as sounds continue to emanate from where it’s sheathed.

That’s never happened before.

Lips press against her neck and Emma leans back against Killian, closing her eyes briefly before another sound of metal on metal disrupts the peace of the cabin. Her eyes fly open.

*

Emma awakes with a gasp in the middle of the night as a swordfight takes place around her.

Fire long gone, the moon serves as the only lighting in the clearing. The metal of her knights’ swords glitter dangerously under the stars and Emma only barely catches glimpses of what they are fighting.

Simians, it seems. Simians that can jump and… hover overhead and away from swipes of a sword.

Flying simians.

She scrambles from her place of rest against a log and reaches for the sword at her side. At full height, she holds her weapon in front of her and examines the scene.

The simians are large beasts. Ugly and with teeth sharp enough to kill, their wings flap overhead, dragging dirt and ash from their resting site into their faces. Their claws swish through the air in severe strikes, attempting to harm or disarm, she cannot tell. She assumes both. For the moment, their group seems to be holding their own.

A screech comes from behind her and Emma ducks just in time for a simian to fly towards her head. She pops up in a flash and her sword strikes true at her attacker, a wing sliced clean off. The simian cries in anger as it tries to control its flight before falling to the ground. From there, it makes its way towards her on its paws and bares its teeth threateningly. Her sword arches through the air only for another simian to come from above and reach for her sword with its claws.

“Get out of the way!” Dorothy yells and blocks the flying simian from Emma’s side. The grounded simian sees the moment of opportunity, hunches back on its legs, and pounces right at Emma.

Instinct takes over and before Emma even realizes it, her sword is in front of her and the simian impales itself.

Her eyes widen in horror. Regina’s skin melting off her face haunted Emma’s dream. The way her dark eyes turned completely black as life left them. The gurgling as blood overflowed her insides and leaked from the corners of her lips.

Emma feels like she is back in the tower as the simian garbles over blood, its wailing fading moment by moment. Red stains its teeth and its wing flaps haphazardly behind it before it stills. She stares for a moment at unseeing eyes before the simian’s head drops forward and its wing slackens.

Nausea threatens to take over her senses and guilt churns low in her gut but a humanly grunt from behind her snaps her back into action. She quickly but gently lowers her sword and shakes the simian off of the blade. She doesn’t even wait for the thump of its body hitting the ground before Emma turns to help.

The world stops momentarily as she realizes she may be too late.

The simian Dorothy directed away from her now easily evades the knight’s strong sword strokes, flying above her before making quick strikes at her head and back. Dorothy yells, one hand reaching for her head as a simian darts back with a wad of her hair in its mouth, skin from her scalp hanging from one end. She isn’t fast enough to defend herself as the simian barely takes a moment before darting back down again, claws poised and sinking quickly into her back, knocking her forward in the same breath its mouth comes down on her neck.

Lancelot struggles against two simians, his armor dented and breaking off of his body with each attack. His sword makes a wide arch in the air, too wide to correct before the simians come down on him, biting each of his arms as their claws dig into his thighs. He throws his head back as he yells, knees buckling under the pain.

Robin clutches his side, blood seeping into his shirt as he swings his sword with his non-dominant hand. It’s awkward and lacking strength and the simian he’s been fighting takes the chance to strike again.

She sees it the moment before she can move and her stomach turns when she realizes she’s not fast enough. Her throat catches in her throat as the simian’s jaw bears down on his shoulder and Robin cries out in agony.

“Get her out of here!” Lancelot manages through gritted teeth.

The world moves in slow motion as her head turns towards him before she feels her arm jerked in a different direction. A loud rush pulses through her ears and black dots her vision. She immediately resists the force on her body and pulls her arm back towards her.

“Move, damn it!” It takes a moment but the pained voice yelling at her voice belongs to Will. She stares at the blood dripping down his temple as he pulls her shocked body away from the scene as quickly and discretely as possible.

A single simian attempts to follow but is thwarted by Will’s swordsmanship. He moves like around the woods like he walks on air, the ease in which he maneuvers reminds of her Killian’s lithe form. The simian dodges strikes and Emma watches helplessly, her sword barely held by her fingertips as she presses her back against a nearby tree. She wishes the simian would be like the one she defeated at camp. She wishes that it would become too confident and turn into a target easy to disarm. If Killian were here, he wouldn’t need her wishing.

Will’s feet dance across the leaves of the forest floor as he eyes the simian. One moment, two moments, then he makes a decisive slice. Will makes quick work of one of its wings before impaling it, exactly as she’d done at camp.

He stares at the simian for a brief moment, eyebrows furrowed in thought, before he turns towards Emma and grabs her bicep to pull her along. “Let’s go.”

“But,” she starts, head turning back towards camp where more simians fly under the moonlight. It’s hard to see anything else in the darkness. “But what about them? We can’t just leave them.”

“You are the priority, Princess,” Will says, high on alert. “You were their priority. Getting you away, safely, will mean they’ve done their job well.”

“I won’t let them die for me,” she protests even as her feet follow his.

Will jerks them to a stop, his eyes red and narrowed in anger. “And what good would their death do if you get yourself killed as well?”

“They might not be dead.”

“We all will be if you return.” Grief blankets her body in a cold embrace and her mouth drops open though no words come out. Will sighs, eyes looking around for danger, before stepping closer. “Don’t let them die in vain. Let’s go.”

Emma follows at his side numbly and, she realizes with a shiver, death follows her.

[mclqren]

OUT AT THE OPERA ★ LN4

PAIRING ✦ lando norris x fem!opera singer!reader

SUMMARY ✦ lando's relationship with his aspiring opera singer girlfriend had always had the internet in awe, but especially when they find out just how they met to begin with, or rather who helped them meet. [ SMAU ]

WARNINGS ✦ none, i think!

REQUESTED ✦ here!

NOTES ✦ reader is australian. implied age of reader is between 22 & 23. the fc i've used is darianka sánchez, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are closed at the moment.

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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 52,331 others

yourusername living my dream life 💄

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user1 Y/N L/N LADIES AND GENTSSSS

user2 leave lando for me? (please)

user3 SO REALLL

user4 lando norris you lucky lucky man

user5 okay but a minute for the dress?? wowww

yourusername right?! it was suchhh a bargain!

user6 NIGHT AT THE OPERA?!

landonorris wowww look at you 😍😍

yourusername love you sm ❤️

user7 MY PARENTSSS

lilyzneimer my girl foreverrr 🩵

yourusername my lilsss 💗💗

landonorris missing my koala extra hard rn 😔

yourusername you cannot call me a koala just because im australian

landonorris yeah i can - you're a koala and oscar is a kangaroo

oscarpiastri oh ffs lando not again 🤦‍♂️

liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 51,660 others

tagged fransisca.cgomes

yourusername when in paris 🩶

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user8 SHE'S IN PARIS??

user9 yup!! on her story she posted about getting the offer to watch the opera in paris, and so she went to stay with kika for a bit!

user10 i loveee seeing you achieve ur dreams

yourusername ❤️❤️

user11 y/n is so effortlessly gorgeous oh myyy

user12 lando is so lucky my oh my

user13 the way all of her posts are so aesthetically pleasing pleases my soul so much you have no idea

fransisca.cgomes you musttt come back im missing you already 😔😔

yourusername cant wait to see you in my home this time ❤️

user14 Y/N GOING TO MELBOURNE CONFIRMED??

user15 well duh she is literally from australia lol

landonorris couldn't have taken me with you huh 😔😔

yourusername mr clingy i think you'll manage another two days without me

landonorris noooo come back soon please ☹️

alexandrasaintmleux oh myyy 🫶

yourusername alex i love you 💗

liked by yourusername, user16 and 344,921 others

tagged yourusername

f1wagss Who is Lando Norris' girlfriend? Y/N L/N is a music graduate from Australia, who's currently in the process of working to become an opera singer. Though we don't know much of how the McLaren driver came to meet Y/N, they're rumoured to have gotten together around June 2023, and their relationship has been the talk of F1 fans for many months, due to their internet presence & instagram posts together. We love you, Y/N! 🫶

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user16 THE MOST PERFECT WAG

user17 speak on it admin!! we love herrr 🗣️🗣️🗣️

user18 y/n marry me challenge GO!!

user19 urmm she's acc already married to me so??

user20 her and lando are so perfect together though i cant

user21 no fr??

user22 so basically she doesnt work? 🤣🤣

user23 judgy much??

user22 im just sayinggg lando can do so much better

user24 im pretty sure lando can do without you fighting in his corner sweetie ❤️

yourusername awww thanks!! im so honored to have a post to myself like this!💗

user25 PEOPLE'S PRINCESS HAS ARRIVEDDD

liked by landonorris, lilyzneimer and 54,212 others

tagged landonorris

yourusername no better feeling than being back down under 🇦🇺❤️

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user25 you can tell how much she loves being back in australia, its the sweetest

user26 oh absolutelyyy

user27 lando in the last slide 🥺🥺

user28 he's so good w kids i canttt

user29 y/n l/n you have done it againnn

user30 meeting her would mean that my life's goals are complete.

user31 as a fellow aspiring opera singer, you are such an inspiration to me, i love you and your content so much ❤️

yourusername awww im so glad!! ur so sweet 💗

oscarpiastri rare picture of lando not terrorising little children?

yourusername i know i was shocked too

landonorris guys i DO NOT terrorise little children

yourusername you growled once at my three year old cousin and now she's scared of you

landonorris stop i love maria tell her im sorry ☹️

landonorris finally reunited ❤️

yourusername lando we were apart for a week and im currently thirdwheeling you and max i think i'd rather go back to missing you again

maxfewtrell im very sorry y/n didn't mean it ☹️

yourusername ur excused bc i love ur girlfriend 💗💗

lilyzneimer MCLAREN WAGS ON TOUR ‼️

yourusername MCLAREN WAGS ON TOUR ‼️‼️

yourusername @/maxfewtrell JOIN IN

maxfewtrell MCLAREN WAGS ON TOUR ‼️‼️‼️

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tagged lilyzneimer, maxfewtrell, keeganpalmer

yourusername MCLAREN WAGS ON TOUR ‼️

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user33 THE CAPTION HAS ME CREASING

user34 the way she's acknowledged it is acc making me laugh sm

user35 you and lily are my fav wags fr

user36 max and keegan in the last slide 🤣

keeganpalmer favorite aussie 🦘🦘

yourusername favourite american 🦅🦅

keeganpalmer i see we'll have to disagree on the spelling of 'favorite' 😔

lilyzneimer I LOVE YOUU!!

yourusername had the best day running from media with you lils ❤️

user37 'running from media' THEY'RE SO REAL

landonorris without me? 😔

yourusername we're all mclaren wags mate you're a mclaren DRIVER you don't make the cut 🙅‍♀️

landonorris ☹️☹️☹️

oscarpiastri is this not that arcade from when we were kids 🤣

yourusername IT ISSS!! I WOULD ALWAYSS BEAT YOU AT BASKETBALL LOOLLL

user38 SORRY?? WHEN WE WERE KIDS I BEG YOUR PARDONNN??

user39 HAVE WE MISSED A CHAPTER ORRR

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tagged landonorris, keeganpalmer

yourusername week at home coming to a close, sydney week opening up again ✈️

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user44 SHE'S IN SYDNEY? OH MY GODDD

user45 what does she mean week at home?

user46 she's from melbourne!!

user47 okay now TALK ON UR FRIENDSHIP W MR PIASTRI

user48 NO REALLL THE FANS WANT TO KNOW

user49 MISS L/N HOW DID YOU MEET OSCAR

landonorris blue is your colour 😍😍

yourusername i thought you said papaya was my colour??

landonorris yeah well anything is your colour to be fair

oscarpiastri my best friend guys 🤣❤️

yourusername oscar STOP we have the internet in shambles as it is

oscarpiastri y/nnn don't ruin my fun ‼️

YOUTUBE [ 'Pre Race Interviews Extended: Melbourne ]

yourusername

( caption 1: im a teensy bit scared right now 😭 | caption two: night of my dreams is over 💗 love you sydney 🦘🇦🇺 )

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yourusername WOWWW where do i even begin!! ever since i was a little girl i DREAMT of being able to perform in the sydney opera house, and to think i've now been able to say i've been there, done that is crazy! could never have done it without my best friend, who took me here for my 22nd birthday last year, and my boyfriend, who i met on said birthday. feeling extra grateful today, thank you all sm for the love. 💗

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user53 THE WOMAN YOU ARE MISS L/N.

user54 if i had vocals like you i'd never stop singing oh my days

user55 THE VOICE OF AN ANGEL FRRR

user56 admittedly i originally looked at ur content for lando, but im so obsessed with you now its crazy

user57 oh she's everything and more.

oscarpiastri so proud of you ❤️

yourusername lots of love for you osc 💗💗

lilyzneimer watching you live tonight was everything 😍😍 can't wait to do it all over again 🩵🩵

yourusername loved having you there sm my angel 💗

carmenmmundt @/georgerussell63 we're going next time for sure 🤩💘

yourusername carm i love you to pieces 💗

landonorris my koala. forever the proudest of you ❤️🐨

yourusername can't even retire the nickname for this cute little post??

landonorris you know you love me really 🤣❤️

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[tosksuki]

Me U & Hennessy

Pairing: Fiance!Connie x Reader

WARNINGS: scratching, biting, nipple play, oral (male and female receiving), fingering , dry humping for 5 seconds LOL, p in v !!!, praising, pet names( sweet girl, baby, mama,) THIS WAS NOT REREAD AND EDITED sorry😊😊😊

WordCount: OOPS I FORGOT LMFAOOO

Summary: After Connie proposed to you with a fat rock you and him moved out of ur apartment and into a huge house. You’ve finally finished settling in and decided to celebrate. Afterall in between moving and working you both been too tired to give attention to the other. Connie misses his baby too much and you do too……..

You slipped off your comfy work shoes and slid the tight rubber band keeping your locs in a bun. “Hi baby! Mommy missed you sooo much” you say as your dog immediately runs up to you making you stumble a little. You crouched and gave him a couple pets before walking to the living room. “Connieeee im so tired” you slid next to him on the couch putting your legs over his. He spread his legs to get more comfy and started rubbed your thigh with his tattooed hand. For a moment he just stared at you thinking about how lucky he was. But fuck so were you. “Hi pretty girl how was work today?”

Can we stay home tonight ?

You ranted on about the new hire messing up your schedule so you had to redo it. You had to perform an emergency surgery on a sick cat someone brought in. Blah blah blah, “yeah mhm” he looks at you halfway zoned out the conversation. He lazily started rubbing your feet and you let out a much needed sigh. “You know I was thinking…lets celebrate since we are both off tomorrow”. You said trailing off and straddling him. Like it was a reflex his hands immediately found your hips and playfully slapped your ass. He let out a groan and bit his lip, “ ‘M missed you so much mama” he says placing sucking hickies where his mouth could reach. You leaned into his touch slowly grinding down on his hardening dick. “Missed you more nie,” you say moaning into his mouth as you held a passionate kiss.

You, me and Hennessy look what you did to me

“Fuck, lemme use this pretty ass mouth” he groaned palming himself through his sweats. You helped eachother undress sliding down onto your knees infront of him. It was so big n pretty, everytime your face to face with it your still shocked. You kissed up n down all thick 8 inches of him. Givin little kitten licks before finally making your way up to the tip. “Quit being a fuckin tease.” He whined , his hips slightly pushing forward to get closer to your mouth. “Your such a baby” you whisper making eye contact as you put you the tip in your mouth circling it with your tongue as you slowly went further down.

My head keep on spinnin

You look into his blown out pupils as you slurrrrrp. He grabs a fist full of your locs just so he can see your pretty expression. “My pretty fuckin eat—oooohhh” he let out a moan. He loved watching you give him head. You were so pretty with ur lips wrapped around your dick. One of your eyes closed bc it’s stretching your thing throat out so good. One of your hands stroking whatever length you could not swallow. “Ff-me ouu shit like that my sweet girl” its so sloppy bubbly spit spilling our your mouth and down to his balls. You brought your free hand up and played with them. Switching I between suckin his dick and sucking his balls. You felt him began to twitch and his grip got tighter than before. “Can you give me ur cum” you begged as you sucked and stroked faster than before. “Y-yea you can have any-any fucking thing” he grabs the sides of your heads as you came in ur warm mouth. Thick splats of cum filling your mouth as your tongue still moves around the tip.

You kiss on my thighs and then you eat it

He grabbed your chin and kissed you sweetly. Tasting the sweet candy you had earlier and his cum too. A long string of spit strung out as your hot kiss separated. “You did so good, always makin me feel good.” You were drunk off eachother. You crawled up onto his lap just for him to pick you up and it felt like you were teleported to your bedroom. He laid your back facing the bed and he traced his tongue all the way down to your sticky folds. Your clit already throbbing. Your precious finance circled your hole with his fingers. “Please stop teasing me Nie”. You felt your face - no entire body heating up. He smiles up at you as he inserted his two fingers watching your face contort. Your hips immediately start to push yourself and ride his fingers. His tongue lapping you up so sloppily. “Bab-mm shit” you whined. “Use your words mama…..” he lifted one of ur legs to ur chest and pistoned his fingers inside of you. He scissored the inside of your cunt to stretch your walls. “Please Conrad, need more” you begged not really sure what you needed but he knew! He curved his fingers slightly upward and he tongue drew the letters of his name onto your clit.

You shifting inside, you got me screaming

“OUUU SHITTT connie” you screamed as spurts of you cream spilled out onto his fingers and face. “Mmmfh u taste so f’n good. So sweet…” connie stood up and slapped his heavy dick on your pussy. He lifted both of your legs up on his shoulders kissing one of your ankles that was decorated with an anklet and his initials C.S dangling from the chain. Hes kissing your ankle so delicately as your pussy wraps around his length very snuggly. “Feels like imma cum already, i need you”. Nie leans forward and kisses all over your face, the new angle makin him.reach impossibly deeper. “Mised my fiancées dick honey. Missed you missed us” you whimpered and moaned as he put a pillow under your hips.

No Trojan on tonight

How can he be so gentle but so rough? His length giving the longest stokes onto your g-spot. “Ngh i-Ohmy God” squelch. Pussy is so fuckin good he can’t talk. Smack smack smack was all you heard as his balls slammed onto your ass. I lovee y-oussss much” he reaches and hand over and played with your nipples. Sucking and toying with them. “Wa-waif Nie” your feet pushing into the bed as you try to squirm away. “Nuh-uh this is your dick , don’t run just take it”connie cooed into your ear. There was a ring of fluids wrapped around his sorry i mean- your cock. You wrapped your arms around his neck wanting him to get impossibly closer.

Hold up, I'm 'bout to cum, no, false alarm

Thats when he pressed down onto your lower half. “Wh-whYa are you f-fuck—ing me like this” you moaned and tears began rolling down your face. You felt like you could feel your inside be mixed and destroyed. You started to flutter around him. “M’ so close baby please” you whispered. Your arms fell from his neck to his back as your nails began to dig into your fiancés skin. He let out a strained groan as you scratched his toned and tattooed back. “I need you mama , fuck can we get married.” Hes so whipped, proposing to you again like this? You moaned as your body started to twitch against his. You started fucking him back. “Yes connie yes yes yes” you eagerly nodded “im gonna cum.” You whimpered. “Cum with me pretty, i love you so bad” he let out a strained moan dipping his head in the crool of your neck.

Then look at you like it's finna be you

Your clit rubbed against the base of his cock and you lost it. You cried out for your Fiance as your body contracted ,creaming. His cum throwing thick sputs deep into you. Hes biting and nibbling into your shoulder, “soso good so perfect y/n”. Your named rolled off his tongue so easily . Hes still pushing his cum inside of you. Slow lazy strokes. “Love you so much connie”. He flips the both of you over and covers your naked bodies with your thick covers. Hes still in you plugging you up. He’s sound asleep , looks so peaceful and handsome. He’s your big baby , finally gonna be Mrs. Springer in a month and you couldnt be more happy. Your head finds its way to his beating chest this was home, he’s your home.

I say my head keep on spinning

Me, Hennessy and you

Okayokay I hope you enjoyed! Just to remind some of you, do not and i repeat DO NOT sleep with cum inside of you like this , it can fuck up your ph balance. Also practice safe sex and after doing the do PLEASE GO PEEEE!!!! this is not optional 😪 okay bye have a great day/night/week/month/year/life!

[singukieee]

—my all time favourite bts fics (pt. 2) ᯓᡣ𐭩

consists of my personal favourite bts fics that I've read countless of times. including those from other platforms, such as Wattpad, AO3, and Patreon.

For some works that are cross-posted between tumblr and wp/ao3, I'd only link them to the latters bcs I find it easier to read and navigate the stories on those. but I also tagged all the authors I know are here and linked the rest so you can check their blogs out yourself!

I'll also separate this list into several parts simply because there's too many... So it'd be easier for you guys to navigate!

red means unfinished

blue means finished

🗯️ editor's note

(sorted by alphabetical order)

Dreams of You by seoktishie

You are a theater actress who dreams of becoming a successful Broadway star. You’ve dedicated your whole life hustling for the show, surrounded by a supportive family and friends you never thought you would lose your best friend and boyfriend on the same day. This puts your dreams to a halt, and you decide to take a break and a soul-searching trip to Korea, where you meet a successful artist that reconnects your love for the arts. OR You accidentally meet Kim Namjoon of BTS, and you had no idea of how an amazing person he is nor how he is the leader of the biggest boyband to date!

🗯️ the yearning and pining *chef's kiss*

Epiphany by 2stanornot2stan

Your soulmate mark seemed self-centred to you "I'm the one I should love" Who would ever want to love someone with that as their soulmate mark?

🗯️ this one is painful. but writing's so good, doesn't fail in pulling my heartstrings.

Escapade by bonnehh_

"Where the hell am I?!" He shrieked, stumbling over his feet like a newborn deer. He was a panicking mess, spinning around in circles to see the unfamiliar sight of giant trees and bushy plants covering the land. The forest was heavily rich with greenery, vegetation and strange fruits. Fallen leaves covered the ground, creating a crunching sound after every step he took. "Calm down, Sweets." I calmly voiced amidst his loud screeches. My words cut through his mess of a mind making him freeze on his spot. Turning on his heel, he noticed me. He stumbled back immediately, possibly because I was covered in angry, red scratches and the bandages covering my arms alerted the male. "What the fudge?!!?! Who- who are you??" He shouted, alarmed by my…seemingly beaten-up figure. "I'm Diana. Welcome to the game." I smiled softly. Hoping my excitement can keep a hold of itself for the sake of keeping the man from getting scared. Dumbfounded, He could only let one word out, "Huh?". Oh boy.

🗯️ a cool one! many adventures and mc has freakishly good survival skills. this honestly cured my longing for that one fic that's no more that was also survival, adventure and game themed with slight crack. I think it was called 'Ready Player One'? (not that famous book and movie). but I think it was a translated ver of a chinese ff on another platform. Idk I still missed it very much, it was also very good. (If you know anything abt this, pls dm me!)

Ethereal by @purpleyoonn

After leaving your home in need of a fresh start, you open a bookstore with the hopes that the words you read could bring you solace. You never realized that the books you loved would bring you home instead.

🗯️ I love soulmate stories, this author also has good writing so

Euphoric Endeavours by haveagreatday

Through a series of curious happenstances, the Boys of Bangtan - your campus' most popular and most handsome group of individuals - set their sights on you, a regular student with a stubborn streak and a wayward mouth. Strangely enough, the mere sight of them sets your instincts off, red-lights flashing in your brain - danger, danger, danger, danger. It's too bad that they can't seem to leave you alone, though. They like you too much.

🗯️ enemies to lovers, anyone?

Everything Falls (Into Place) by Hiromi_20 / @blog-name-idk

"I… I might know someone who has a spare room," your brother finally muttered hesitantly. You perked up from where the couch had been swallowing you. "What! And you didn't tell me?" You accused. "You'd be living with a bunch of dudes." "Oh my god Jackson," you groaned, rolling your eyes. "The fact that you're even suggesting them means that you know them all and they're good people, right? It's not like they're gonna murder me and hide my body in the walls or something." "Well, yeah, but…" "But WHAT?" you almost screamed in frustration. "They're all… hot." Silence for several moments. Then you started guffawing uncontrollably, unladylike snorts escaping from your lips. "You are such a dork," you gasped between laughs, tears coming to your eyes. "If I promise not to let them gangbang me, will you please ask?"

🗯️ another really well-written crack fic! goshhh this one's so goood! this one's the real friends to lovers, gosh the pining is just *chef's kiss*

Finding My Pack by @untaemedqueen (paid on Patreon but so worth it)

In which an all-alpha pack unexpectedly found their mate isolated in a sterile room. So the only right thing would be to pamper and love her to make up for all those years she spent alone and lonely.

🗯️ spicyy 🥵 but also cute. I love protective mates

Flaw in The System by Strayberry_

She has 8 moons on her wrist. So do they.

🗯️ honestly Idk what to say about this one. just prepare your tissues for this family of misfits that fit so well together.

Full House by fillomina

Y/N has a steady job and lives alone, that is, until she tags along with her friend to the shelter. Jimin, Hobi, and Yoongi have been waiting to get adopted, and their chance has finally arrived. With the small hybrid pack now living with Y/N, her life never has a dull moment. As Y/N gets used to her new family, she also begins learning more about old friends, making new ones, and getting a very full house.

🗯️ I'd say that I don't like the fact that yn's kinda treated as a doormat at some parts, but it's still good and quite well-written found family fic.

Getting Back Into The Swing of Things by @jellifysh

Hearing her voice now, Namjoon was reminded of the times when she was all he had. How she was his everything, supported him with everything she had, even if it meant giving him the shirt off her back. "Joon?" Y/n sniffled. "I know it sounds crazy, you don't even have to, its been years," "No," Namjoon was agreeing before he could even think, before he could even remember the other people who lived in the house just the next room over. "No, its okay, I mean, we promised each other right? We'd never turn our backs on each other?" "You can stay with us, it'll be fine I promise, I'll handle everything, don't worry at all, it'll be great! Like, old times, okay?" Namjoon was tripping over his words now, he just felt like if he didn't see her now, he would be too late for… something. What, he wasn't sure, but there was an urgent need to have her home safe.

🗯️ just re-read this one again literally yesterday, still as good as the first time. I love strangers to friends to lovers.

Her by untouchablerave

The question hangs between you, and you’re desperate to ask it. Usually, you don’t mind much who is on the other end of the appointment, as you’re so focused on a list of kinks, trying to map out a scene in your head, but this time, the ‘who’ is all you can focus on. Your boss looks at you. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this but… do you know BTS?” Your head snaps up in shock. “You’re fucking with me,” you gasp. “I’m dead serious,” your boss replies. “Jeon Jungkook just came of age. He wants to lose it right away.”

🗯️ spicy but soft soft softtt

Hidden Marks series by Havenesa

❶ Hidden Marks

What does it mean to be soulmates? What do I love about her? What is the reason? Does there need to be a rational reason to love someone? Maybe I love her amber eyes, or the way she tries to hide her smile whenever we get into playful arguments, or her love for just living. Maybe I just love her because she is simply just Han Sera.

🗯️ This one's so angsty yet so good, the writing's also so good at making the characters so human that I'd always end up sobbing at every re-read.

❷ Connecting Hearts

What defines a soulmate? Is it the mark that you were born with, only shared with a selected few? Or a bond which was created through pain and suffering? You'll have to read to find out.

Highlight by Alphathyx

Hana attends Atlas Academy of Arts also known as the AAA to pursue her passions in Hiphop with best friend Hoseok and Prince Charming Jimin. The school gets selected along with other arts schools to compete in an inter-school competition which prize could open doors to any arts students dreams. She along with seven boys, discover what it means to love, but a tragic incident spirals the competition and them into a mystery no one saw coming.

🗯️ friendship and struggle to success <3

Hotel California by Deliebre

You are a badass business guru that works for a huge gaming company. Your home is Korea but you travel often. You are in California for work but keep bumping into hot Korean men, which makes you want to do more than bumping...

🗯️ immediate connection... yes please!

In The Dark by BearPawBeach

"How can that be? I am looking right at you. I am speaking to you right now." "That's the thing. I don't know! That's why I came here today. Yesterday, when you laughed at me, you laughed at me. I almost didn't believe it myself, but the more I thought about it, the crazier it sounded. So I came here to see you and to know if you can see me!" she blurted out. He could not believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. "Look, you don't need to lie to me. There is no need to make up some crazy excuse to meet someone." "I'm not lying! I really am invisible," she argued back. The man just threw his hands up to concede and turned to walk away from her again, walking right out of the building. The girl followed in hot pursuit. "Do you really not believe me? Why would I make something like that up? Yes, I know it sounds crazy. If I were you, I would probably think it's nuts too, but I am telling you the truth!"

🗯️ mc is invisible in this one, story's kinda sad and cute!

In Your Roots by sweetinsanityy

Jungkook is the perfect alpha, a little too perfect. Being the youngest in Bangtan, a group full of alpha's, friction has been happening between him and the boys. He's too strong, too dominating, too wild, and too much for Bangtan to handle. The perfect solution? An omega just for himself. You happen to be the perfect candidate. But the other boys want a taste of you as well. Or, you're hired to be an omega for Jungkook to take care of, and maybe he and the rest of the boys get too attached.

🗯️ another one about the boys being absolute simps!

Iridescent Love by @imnotlauriane

From a fated meeting to a life filled with wonders, the path of discovery is much, much harder than what I had prepared myself for. Especially when my identity, the only one I knew of ends up being a total lie.

🗯️ sad... but it got better. and what did I say abt imnotlauriane's stories? they're all good!

It's a Little Complex? by Infired_Mochi

Starting college and moving into a new apartment with complete independence has been your goal. Due to all the hard work at the cafe during your high school years, and your parents pitching in a few dollars, you can afford to stay in the apartment that is just the right size. However, did you get more than you bargained for? A few other college students occupy the rooms next to yours, seven to be exact. Eight rooms reside on the third floor of the apartment complex and yours is on the farthest right wing, apartment number 308. Just wait until you meet them.

🗯️ sooo it's a little complex... just read it!

Late Bloomer by basicwitch13

Despite growing up in a wolf pack, you were never able to shift nor had a second gender present itself. It seemed, by all accounts, that you were a typical human. So you carried on, burying yourself in your work as a sociology professor—until one of your students introduces you to his pack and changes everything.

🗯️ yes to yearning, pining, and healing.

Like Crazy by @euphoricfilter

The story of seven loves across eight lives.

🗯️ so freakin well-written

Little Do You Know... by @yoongiofmine

In a world where idols and actors can’t date, whether it be because of contracts, lack of time, or the dangers that involve having your personal life leaked, the market opened up for a new work field. Playmate Agencies emerged to supply the entertainment world with highly trained companions for hire. Bangtan is looking for new playmates. And you just happen to be the one all of them choose.

🗯️ another idk what to sayy, just read bcs it's so gooood.

Magic Shop by AriZedd

In which Yn is meeting new friends (and an old one) getting charmed day by day.

🗯️ just read this crack fic, strangers to friends to ... I'm obsessed.

PART 1 | PART 3 | PART 4 | NAVI

[belovedcloud]

Treats

pairing: leon kennedy x fem! hybrid reader

✎ REQUEST: I love you for your fluffs, literally marry me, I don't really know if it's a dark cw but can you make fluff about hybrid!reader and like an owner Leon but in a sweet way? We warm up to his, just a little slowburn if you squint. Pls pls pls psklsplfpd<3333

✎ synopsis: his mission to alcatraz took way too long for his liking. he couldn't wait to come back to see you - to walk in seeing you all teary eyed, he had to make this reunion perfect.

✎ notes: thank you so much for the request and sorry for taking so long to do it! i hope you like it :) also this isn't proofread so i'm sorry if there are any mistakes! this is so short ffs

➤ WC: 1.3K

➤ CW: kisses, cuddles, basically all fluff, owner leon, reader is sensitive, very sweet tho, baking (kinda)

You didn't understand why Leon was taking so long to come back from wherever he went. He never could tell you what he was doing but he always said it was top secret! No fair. Although you weren't his for that long, you seemed to warm up to him well. Well, at least you thought you did.

Days went by with a simple message from Leon, pinging your phone just to alert you that he was still breathing but it wasn't enough. He brought out a side of you that you thought wasn't even real. The shelter he got you from discarded you away, made you feel inferior to the other hybrids that were accommodated there. With Leon adopting you and becoming your owner, the level of clinginess shot through the roof. Every step he took, you would take it too. If he was making a coffee, you would stare at him with pleading eyes. How come he was paying more attention to that damn coffee machine instead of you?

So now that your irregular but regular routine was disrupted due to his departure. It felt like step one all over again. You would have to slowly warm up to him, trust him, love him.

Leon's time over at Alcatraz was one of pure misery. His main mission being discarded due to the sheer amount of chaos occurring in the four walls that surrounded him and some people he knew long ago. Although it wasn't really a dream reunion seeing Claire or her brother Chris - alongside Jill, it was still nice seeing them all in great shape. Minus the infection but they were all still fine right?

Wrong.

Perhaps physically Leon was fine. The minor cuts and bruises he accumulated was common practice at this point. 'Unavoidable' as he would say. But this was the first mission where he would be coming home to someone. It wasn't an ordinary visit home to drink yourself to sleep like past years. His home had a new essence to it; a new being. His mental state was one of excitement and nervousness.

He left you with enough food right? Or maybe the thing he should be concerned about is your wellbeing.

It pained him that he couldn't tell you what he worked as. Bioweapons would just confuse your pretty little head and he definitely didn't want to make you panic for when he goes out to embark on such tasks.

So the footsteps he took from his car to the front door were heavy. He missed you. He missed his girl so so much. Leon promised to himself he would spoil you rotten these next few days to make up for the time lost. His fingers twitched in his jacket pocket, the smooth leather feel contrasting the calloused pads of his fingers. A slight jingle erupting from the keys as he lassoed them out.

Flicking through the multitude of keys, something caught his eye. It always caught his eye when he looked at the key circuit. A picture. A mini picture of you and him stuck in resin. Your sweet smile with his hand on your head, petting your ears softly. Leon could remember the day vividly in his mind. Your nimble fingers twitching to take the picture on his phone with giggles leaving your soft lips. A fat smile plastered Leon's lips, those blue eyes boring into the image - more or less burning it into his mind.

Snapping out of it, the front door key scratched at the lock, twisting the door open. His hands shaky; matching his breathing pattern as he took a step inside. Leon scanned the hallway, peering his eyes to try and find you somewhere near. Nope, you weren't in the kitchen, living room or downstairs bathroom. His footsteps echoed the silent house as he approached his bedroom.

The silence he once knew faded away as he heard sniffles coming from his room. A frown automatically made way to his lips as he thought about you crying. What could be wrong?

Walking in, all he could see was a fat lump under his duvet - the cover shaking every so often. Leon didn't want to alert you in your cry sesh, so all he could come up with was a hushed whisper with his hand slowly tugging the blanket.

"Sweetheart?" Oh that pet name you oh so loved. Your bunny ears twitched to the sound of his voice whilst your head popped out of the little blanket fort you had made for yourself. Blinking to try and see him properly, clumps of tears fell from your eyes landing onto the cover. Staining it with a deeper colour. No words left your lips, it was impossible to speak after seeing Leon again.

"Why are you crying sweetness?" The rough skin of his fingers wiped the tears from your wet face. All you could do was look up to him with sorry eyes. You felt almost... guilty. Here he was, comforting you and all you could do was sit there silently still moping about.

Leon wanted to know what was wrong. His pretty girl sobbing was not a sight he wanted to come home to. Especially after such a long mission. His relationship with you was more than a pet and an owner. He saw you more important than just some hybrid animal he adopted.

He would make sure you would know that too.

He managed to get you to speak even if it did take 20 minutes and a cuddle. You seemed to look a little happier in his arms - though he had a small feeling you still weren't up in your spirits. Looking down at you, your eyelashes enchanted him. The way they fluttered as you blinked whilst your head laid on his chest.

"Love?" A deep voice rumbled in your ears. Shooting your head up, you managed to smack Leon in the cheek with your fluffy ear. A giggle erupted out of you as you responded, "yeah?" Seeing him chuckle whilst giving you a heartwarming smile made you twitch in excitement. "How about we treat ourselves tonight?" Leon mumbled out, kissing your forehead.

Treat? Treat. Maybe not a treat for Leon but definitely a treat for you. Cookies! Now, yes you would make these with pure love but you wouldn't dare clean up the mass amount of flour on the countertops or on your clothes. That was Leon's treat.

Looking down into your mixing bowl, you grab the chocolate chips on the side. Leon's arms wrap around you, leaving a few pecks on your cheeks. "You're making all this mess on purpose baby, is this my punishment for going away for a long time?" He questioned, watching you mix the dough into a good consistency.

"Well... you shouldn't have left for so long!" You huff out, though your bratty behaviour isn't kept up for long when Leon tickles your sides. "Yeah?" He continues his attack on you, making you giggle and squirm under his touch."

"Stop!" The snickering word escapes your mouth as you gasp out for air. The flour is everywhere at this point. On the floor, counter and on your face.

"Look up at me." He stares down at you, awaiting for your head to turn up. Your nose twitches as you feel something touch it. Looking up at Leon and squinting at the reflection of the window - you see a dollop of wet dough on your nose.

Leon's arms around you leave your sides as he takes a step back, chuckling at the sight and snatching his phone from the countertop. Before you could say anything, a quick snap of his phone alerts your ears. "You look so silly." He laughed hysterically.

"Hey!" Your fingers paw at the pile of flour next to your bowl, without thinking - you throw it on Leon. His eyes widen and blink rapidly whilst he registers what you've done.

"Oh you're so done."

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! thank u for reading :)

-> masterlist

[starsh1neee]

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐎𝐗𝐈𝐂!! | gojo satoru

+ kinda smut, toxic gojo, angsty, gojo gets with your best friend.

toxic gojo who would tell you specific clothing,makeup colors and hair styles would look hideous on you because it makes you seem like a try hard whore. Though in reality he thinks you look really good with them but doesn’t want any other guy to be looking at you.

toxic gojo who would flirt with every girl who seemed attractive like you, but get’s really pissed at you if you even introduce yourself to a man.

toxic gojo who forced you to introduce your best friend to him and make you watch them flirt as punishment for “flirting” with other guys when really you were asking directions which train station leads to where you needed to go.

toxic gojo who got mad at you for getting along with one of your guy cousins that you grew up with as a kid.

toxic gojo who act’s all sweet, polite and the perfect boyfriend in public, but when you guys get home glass is broken.

toxic gojo fucks you till you passed out and at least cums inside or outside of you a couple times.

toxic gojo who act’s like the caring,loving boyfriend when you get at your limits with him.

toxic gojo is genuinely actually scared of you when your really pissed, but he likes teasing you a lot because he thinks your hot.

toxic gojo who invites your best friend over every single weekend to hangout. He would cuddle with you on the couch, but whenever you went to use the bathroom or get something him and your best friend would quickly make out.

toxic gojo who convinced your best friend to fall in love with him and keep this whole thing between the both of them a secret. He never loved her, he loved you, but wanted the “attention” you never gave him.

toxic gojo freaking out when you found out what’s been going on between him and your best friend.

toxic gojo who got blocked on everything on social media by you. Couldn’t even contact you for months.

toxic gojo who got with your best friend, but felt empty.

toxic gojo who hangs out at your older brothers house and gets a little hope to see you so you both can talk things out.

toxic gojo who realizes you always been giving him affection and attention, but he wanted more from you.

toxic gojo who was hanging out with his friends and your best friend (aka his gf) at your brothers house.

toxic gojo who finds out you haven’t contacted anyone, but your twin brother.

toxic gojo who was about to give up on you and relax with his friends, you came through the door screaming at your twin brother.

toxic gojo being happy after not seeing you for four months, but something about you felt different.

toxic gojo who watches you break things he use to throw at you when he was mad and scream like you needed help.

toxic gojo who watches a whole another side of you that he didn’t fall in love with nor never new existed.

toxic gojo who looked into your eyes and saw your pain.

toxic gojo who just stood there and watched you arguing with everyone.

toxic gojo who tried stopping you, but you just told him to let you go. and he did what you asked because he realized there was genuine nothing between the both of you anymore.

toxic gojo who wishes that he could’ve saved you in time, but realizes he was too late.

a/n: Damn this was kinda deep to write, (should I write a ff about this? Maybe there’s more story behind this? Maybe not.)

[ghouldump]

you are a lifesaver for this fandom, your ffs are AMAZING and I hope both sides of your pillow are always cold. would you mind me requesting more of lestat x bi reader? <3

Pretty When You Cry | Lestat x Bi!Reader

ෆ when you are hunting, focused on your prey, you don't even realize how beautiful you look to lestat.

oh my goodness 😂 that is very sweet of you, thank you. and i don't mind <3

“See anything you like, ma chèrie,” Lestat whispered in your ear, but you ignored him, as you stared at the women.

He came along with you, hunting, and was asking you questions like a child. It had been a while since you opened up about your sexuality, and you nearly forgot about the conversation, until recently. Lestat realized that you only drank from women. He began to question if their blood tasted better, and if were they easier targets, but you shrugged him off, confessing that you liked a little fun before feeding off of them. Immediately, he was intrigued, tagging along to watch you work your magic.

Entering the high-end brothel, you gave the madame money for a table on the balcony and followed behind as she led you to your area.

“Tell me, what are your tastes, a little flavor, ginger, chocolate, cinnamon…?” He questioned.

“All of them, beauty comes in all shades and colors, does it not?”

“I agree, who would’ve known my sweet angel, is truly a seductive little thing,” Lestat smirked.

However, looking past him, she immediately caught your eye. She looked as if she had been kissed by the sun with bronze, glowy skin. Slender, but curvy. The corset drove your mind wild, pushing up her breasts. Reading her thoughts, you grinned, as she questioned if you liked women. Motioning for her to come up, she smiled softly, holding her dress as she made her way into the house.

“Oh, this will be interesting”

As she was approaching behind you, you stood, holding out your hand.

“Hello,” you smiled.

“Hi, I’m Doris,” she grinned. Up close you took in the freckles, beauty marks, full lips, the light lipstick on her lips.

“Y/n, would you like to join us for a while?” you asked, motioning at the table when she nodded.

“Hi,” she said to Lestat, who stared at her, analyzing every piece of her.

“Hello,” he said, before waving over the waiter over.

“Are you two from New Orleans?” she asked, as she was handed the glass of champagne.

“I am, Lestat is from France”

“That's amazing, I've always wanted to go to France”

“Are you a native, I don't think I've seen you around here before?” you asked her, glamouring her, as she looked into her eyes.

“No, I recently moved here,” she shook her head.

“Where are you from?”

“Mississippi”

“And you moved all the way out here?”

“I was kicked out of my parent's home and this was my last resort”

“Why’s that?” Lestat watched in curiosity, as you dug whatever truth you were looking for out of her.

“I'm not welcome, ever since they read my diary, I wasn't allowed back home, I shouldn't have written about it”

“Tell me, what you wrote about?”

“Women I've been with, and crushes,” she said. Immediately, Lestat picked up on how you were enjoying getting this information out of her, wanting her to say it verbally.

“Oh god, I didn't mean that,” she shook her head, as soon as you looked away.

“It is alright, honey, your secret is safe with us,” you reassured her.

“You should leave with us,” Lestat told her.

“I don't know, madame-

“She is fine with you coming with us, she asked for us to personally take you,” Lestat told her, satisfied as she nodded, standing to follow the two of you.

“My, you have a beautiful home,” Doris said, as she looked around the townhouse.

“Please, come sit,” you said, leading her into the living room. Lestat sat in the seat in front of you, crossing his over the other.

“What did you two want to do?” she asked.

“Anything, I have a few things in mind,” you told her, leaning close, pressing your lips against her own.

Kissing along her neck, she laid back, moaning lowly, as your hands explored her body. Slowly stripping from your clothing, you continued to share kisses, until your fangs came out. Gasping, she went to scream, when you covered her mouth, a devilish grin.

“There it goes, always the star of the show, you are, ma chérie,” Lestat applauded.

“Have you ever been told, you look pretty when you cry?”

“Please, don't kill me,” she said, as a tear fell down her face. Tilting your head, you leaned down, licking it from her cheek, before looking into her eyes.

“The most fascinating thing about pain and fear is it is nearly always self-inflicted. You aren't afraid, and you won't feel an ounce of pain, in a short while,” you told her, watching as she visibly relaxed. Going between her legs, you bit her inner thigh.

Inhaling a sharp breath, she remained calm as you drank her blood before you pulled away. Giving her a few more cents than usually paid, your own glamoured her once more, before sending her on her way.

“That's all you wanted?”

“I didn't want to kill her, she has a cute face,” you posted, going to sit in Lestat’s lap.

Don't tell me she already has your heart-

“Only you have my heart, she just doesn't deserve to die, just yet,” you told him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and pulling him closer.

“Then, why don't you give me a personal demonstration of that performance from earlier,” he said, as his hand traveled down your back.

From the lust and concentration in his eyes, you knew you were destined to have a wild, but long night.

[daichiduskdrop]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

CHAPTER 00 - PROLOGUE

Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader

Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers, (might do smut in the future)

Warnings: loneliness, anxiety, indicated sa (hardly mentioned at all)

AN.: Hello everyone! This is pretty much my first time writing a FF, and English isn't my first language, so please be patient with me :)

If you enjoy this story, please let me know and I'll continue it. Don't hesitate if you have anything to say, I'm always looking for good advice. Please take care of yourself :))

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ੈ✩‧₊˚✧˚ · .*ੈ✩‧₊˚

It was a bitterly cold and snowy day. The frigid temperatures had been persistent for days, and there was no sign of relief in sight. December had just begun, but it already felt like an endless winter. While the snowflakes were beautiful as they fell to the ground, they brought a feeling of sadness and loneliness.

You loved the hot chocolates you would make for yourself in the small kitchen, you loved bundling up in a soft blanket on the sofa and watching anothe movie. You loved the seasonal Christmas themed ads that were blaring at this time of the year from every corner.

Yes, you loved Christmas, you stopped to remind yourself. Of course you did. Yet still, there was this deep nagging. A feeling of desire, that carried sadness.

'It's snowing like the world is about to end' you thought as you looked from the window that tightly sealed. There wasn't much to look at, even thought the afternoon was only just ending, through the strong snowstorm there was hardly anything visible.

You didn't watch the final race of the snowflakes for much longer. Standing up from your wooden floor you made your way to your apartment door - or more so tried to. Your pillows, blankets, old books and canvases were scattered all around so it proved to be bit of a challenge.

Your room was a mess, it has been like that for far too long. Old newspaper cutouts glued on the walls, posters, painting without frames hung up or just pushed in the corner of the room, where shadows hid them well. There wasn't enough space for them all. Books stacked up in tall chimneys, your phone somewhere burried in-between. You didn't bother to look for it too much.

Lacing up your boots, you took a last look in the mirror. As an omega it was always expected of you to look proper and taken cared of, even if it wasn't always the case. Your heavy jacket felt too heavy on your shoulders, but you knew that you would quite literally freeze to death otherwise. A white woolen scarf was tied around your neck, covering your face up to your nose. It felt comfortable against your cheeks and the scent was also pleasant, so even as it grew older, you still kept it and worn it every winter.

You grabbed your wallet, and pocketed your keys. The small bunny keychain dangled with the movement. It used to be white with few brown spots, but that wore of with the time too. Still, even if most of the colour was missing, you liked it.

With the lock clicking behind you, you started walking down the open hallway to the apartment building entrance. The rooms were only on one side, so it didn't take much time until the cold air swept you from the right. The layer of snow on the wooden railing has grown to over 10 centimetres, and that was only from this day, since it got swept pretty much every morning. The landlord was quite sweet, as allowing an omega a home when they were alone with no alpha or beta in sight wasn't too usual.

Hiding more into your jacket you quickened your pace, and after getting down the steps, you started the walk towards the pharmacy.

Snowflakes fell into your hair, as you made your way down the few streets and roads. Luckily, not many people were outside and so your smell wasn't noticed. It really wasn't too typical to see omegas walking on their own, basically anywhere. The society had strict standards that were followed since,- well, forever.

While some protested, it was just always for the better, anyone to see an omega that's completely alone, unmarked or at least scented was basically free to do anything they wished to.

It made you tremble just the slightest bit thinking about it, but you blamed it on the cold that surrounded you and shook it off. While you were on the outskirts of Seoul, it wasn't like you were constantly alone.

Yes, you reminded yourself once more. There were people around, like that nice looking lady down the street holding a hand of a little girl. She jumped and squeeled in the heavy snow, only to get lightly scolded by the beta for almost slipping in the forming ice. Pups were always the biggest priority, at least in every good pack.

As you walked further and further from your home, more stores appeared, lighting up the streets just enough for you to be more comfortable. The neon sings of restaurants, grocery shops, clothing boutiques and more were bright for your eyes, colourful and soon you started hearing bit more noise too. There were more cars passing by, people smoking cigarettes outside on the streets chatting together.

With the snow crunching underneath your feet you made your way to the mall closest to your apartment. You dusted of as much of the snow from yourself as possible, and walked inside. It felt a lot warmer immediately, but you didn't unzip your jacket too much. You knew your scent would carry too much and people would eventually notice, so you just continued on your way down the escalator, keeping to yourself with the crowd of people going downstairs with you.

Infront of you was another grocery store, that got you thinking about buying some food. The snowstorms often lasted a few days, and you doubted that it would be pleasant to walk here again tomorrow. You didn't have a lot home right now, as you avoided going until it was impossible. Plus the store here was a lot cheaper than the small shops closer to your apartment, that made a big profit from all the-

Your thoughts were interrupted by the loud sniffing behind you, something just lightly touching the back of your neck. Startled, you quickly turned, and nearly jumped from your skin. The man must have been in his forties, his eyes closed for a tiny second, before they opened and focused on your face. You averted your gaze, not wanting to seem like you wanted to start anything.

„What are you doing here alone like this?” his tone sounded concerned, but carried a weird undertone, that unsettled you even more. You felt chills run down your spine. You opened your mouth to answer, but your eyes could only widen more, as the last step lowered and you arrived at the floor. Stumbling, you regained your balance and nearly ran off in the way of the pharmacy.

Opening the door, a light bell sound chimed throughout the store, making few of the people in the queue turn to check the newcomer. Looking at your shoes, you shuffled to stand behind the last girl, her natural smell covered in a strong but very sweet perfume scent blockers. Growing up, in high schools, those were always popular for beta or even alphas to wear, to make themselves appear more approachable if their scent wasn't intriguing enough for their liking.

Such perfumes didn't work on omega scents, those were always naturally alluring and hard to cover. Scent blockers were then often used, but since you didn't go out a lot back in highschool, you hardly ever had to use them. You would, now being in college you were constantly around unknown people, so it would come with a nice benefit - sometimes all of the attention that came with being an omega wasn't nice at all. But those were expensive, and the even cheapest ones were bit too pricey for you. Plus the ones you ever tried always made you uncomfortable, and unsettled with how chemically they smelled.

The wet shoeprints with slight mud covered the tiled floors, as you patiently waited for your turn to receive your prescription. And so as the girl before you took the small bottle of medicine, thanked and made her way out again, you took the small paper from your wallet.

„Hi, what can I do for you?” asked the older man behind the counter. His hair was gray and his eyes seemed tired. With the winter season, there must be many people coming with bad colds.

„Hello,” you mumbled looking behind him at the shelves filled with medicaments, „I have a prescription of a medication from my doctor;” he leaned in closer to hear you better. Your voice was naturally just a bit too quiet. Placing the paper onto the sleek counter, you looked away as he nodded and opened it. Taking just a few seconds to read over its contents he bristled to the shelves, pulling out a brown bottle with a white cap.

„...Right here miss. I will just need you to sign a document, that states that your pack alpha is aware of this and agreed to your doctor decision.” smiling, his cheeks lifted as he took a paper from underneath the desk.

You blinked in a surprise, and felt your fingers start to slightly tremble. 'Since when was this a thing? You got your medicine just fine month or two ago, what --?'

„My pack alpha- I-”

He looked back at me after retrieving a pen with calm eyes.

„Yes miss, here... You just fill in your pack alpha's name, and your pack serial number, or if you can't remember the whole thing, you can just write your pack alpha's phone number, we can get in touch later and I will complete the form process with them. You don't have to worry about it at all.” Once again, the worker smiled brightly, seemingly trying to calm you down.

„I know the number is hard to remember, my daughters always forget it too.” lightly chuckling, you could smell just the lightest hint of calming pheromones in the air. Scrunching up the nose at the smell, your anxiety only risen.

If you won't get the medicine you will get in a lot of trouble, and miss even more college lessons, no, you can't miss anymore, and-

„umm- can.. can I just call them first? I'm not so sure-” your voice trembled just the slightest bit as you squeezed your fingers around the prescription. The man once again laughed and nodded his head.

„Of course you can! It's no issue. Just come back again with the prescription and we can go over this again miss.” Nodding slightly, stunned still, just turned on your heel and walked off, the ground slippery with the melted snow, making you almost slip a few times. You eyes clouded with tears and you sniffled loudly as you opened the pharmacy door. Defeated, you clutched your other hand in a tight grip, unsettled and confused. You could bet that your anxious scent was wafting off all over the place.

Your vision blurry, you started heading back towards the escalators, walking next to a shoe boutique and a barber shop, you reminded yourself of the way outside. Your plans were definitely different from this, and getting lost in a mall was also not included on the list so you tried your best way to walk where you remembered the right side entrance to be. With most of the people left by now, the 21nth hour was quickly approaching, and a many of trail scents left behind confused you even more.

More tears sprung up to your eyes, and your vision got even blurrier. Not having any scents to stick to, as the ones that were around when you walked to the pharmacy were exchanged for different ones, you were left in a sensory overload, not even noticing when a man bristly walked towards you.

„Hey.., hey, what's going on? What's wrong?” He bended to your eye level so you stood face to face. A white facemask was covering his face, so only his eye peeked through under his dark, long hair. A plain black newsboy cap matched with the long, thick coat that went bellow his bended knees. You looked away, just when your overwhelmed nose smelled that he was an alpha. A mixture of rain and a hint of levander that seemed to become more prominent every passing second. He was trying to calm you with his scent.

A small whimper broke out from your throat unwillingly. Your brain was just taking in bit too much for you to be able to process everything. Your scarf dampen with more tears falling onto it. The man hand quickly held your right arm, his other hand prying your fingers open, so you couldn't clutch your hands and accidently scratched yourself. He cooed at you and rubbed your arm while still holding your hand, squeezing just the smallest bit.

„...Hm? What is it?”

Looking up, you accidentally made eye contact, only to get yourself more stressed out. You were always taught to beware of any unknown people, especially alphas, and making an eye contact could be interpreted as a 'sure, let's get it on'.

His concerned eyes shocked you enough to stay like that for a bit longer. They were a lot cat like, and his eyebrows were furrowed, but not in a threatening way, no, it was worry.

„I was- was at the phar-macy..” you mumbled only to sob loudly, and your shoulders to start to shake. You looked at his facemask, trying to focus anywhere but at the alpha's eyes. Noticing you doing so, in a quick motion he pulled the mask bellow his chin, only to reveal a soft looking nose and full lips, left open just the slightest bit in focus.

His tongue darted out to lick them fastly, and he shuffled a bit closer, so the levander scent was even more prominent. „At the pharmacy? Did someone tell you something bad there? Do you not have enough money for your medicine?” His voice felt calming, but held a feeling of urgency in it. He stood back up, only to look behind you towards the store you came from just about two minutes ago.

„N-No.. that's not - it... My prescrb- prescrt-” stumbling over the word you whined softly, angry with yourself. This was really not what you needed to happen right now.

„Prescription kitty. What's with it? Had it already expired?” once again he lowered himself back down, but didn't let go of your hand and arm even once. Softly rubbing his thumb over your hand, he once again cooed at you.

„Need pack al-pha...” you cried out softly and looked at the floors. Frowning even deeper, he let go of your arm and pulled out his phone from his pocket. His other hand just pulled you a little closer, so his scent was even clearer.

The man fumbled with it for a few seconds, pressed it to his ear and waited, as the faint sound of ringing could be heard. A soft beep sound and another strangers voice went through, not loud enough for you to decipher.

„hey, where are you?”

„No, listen, I need you to come to the lowest floor, um- there is a,” whipping his head around he looked at the stores around us, „hairdresser shop here and uhh.. a pharmacy too, look just can you hurry please?”

„Ill tell you here, it's an omega .... Jimin-ah are you a fucking idiot?! Who said anything about heat? Aish..! Just hurry up, could you?”

For a second his scent got covered with a burning grass, a smell of agitation. Just as quickly as it came it was gone thought. Pocketing his phone once again, he looked back at you.

„My packmate is going to come here in a bit okay?” his voice once again soft.

„P-Packmate?” your eyes blew wide, only for more tears to come. What did that mean? Was they about to do something? Your worried thoughts circled your mind.

„Yea, but don't worry, okay? He's very-”

„Yah, hyung, what is it? What's going on?” you heard another man, only to be hit with another alpha scent, reminding you of soft vanilla blooms. „Gosh her scent is sweet..” he said lowly, so you hardly understood what he was saying. Looking up, you were met with eyes of another man. This time, circled rimmed glasses and a black face mask pretty much covered his whole face, only a small bit of his black hair peeking through underneath his dark grey beanie. A long, dark green trenchcoat with a crossbody purse like bag adored his body, making his shoulders stand out.

„I don't know...”

„Whats your name 'mega?” the newcomer asked, bending slightly to match your height too.

„..Y/N” you said as you looked away again. All of the scents were confusing you, and you shuffled at your feet. You could sense your flight or fight instincts start to come in, with how long you have been unsettled.

„..okay. Okay.” he sighed out. „My name is Yoongi, and that's Jimin. Kitty, where is your pack? Why are you here alone like this?”

You took a longer pause, too overwhelmed to answer quickly. It must have been bit too long for them thought.

„Hyung-”

„I don't ha-ve a p-pack..” sniffling, you avoided their gaze, hiding more into the scarf.

„..Well shit.” Jimin muttered, exchanging anxious looks with Yoongi.

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