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honeyedmiller · 2 days ago

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A Burning Desire part eight

firefighter!joel miller x f!reader

series masterlist

rating: 18+, minors do not interact.

warnings: fluff, vulnerability, shimmer mention!, brief mentions of past verbal abuse, angst, mentions of pregnancy (reader’s sister), extremely inaccurate descriptions of how insurance / payout works (just go with it, it’s fiction lol), smut (fingering, m!oral receiving, masturbation, phone sex), no use of y/n. if there’s anything i missed, please lmk.

word count: 10.6k

synopsis: joel and tommy are sent on a dangerous work trip.

a/n: fuck. thanks for being so patient with me. there’s hints of foreshadowing in this unrevised (sry) monster of a chapter, and the next chapter will be angsty. i hope you enjoy tho. thx for sticking around and reading my silly little story <3

Getting back into the swing of things after the holidays has always deemed itself to be arduous. You’re lucky you work from home, but you’d taken on the responsibility of getting Sarah out of the house in time to drive her to school. It’s not that you mind at all, you just hate getting up out of a warm bed, especially when you have Joel as your own personal furnace now.

Having two weeks off of said responsibility was nice because you and Sarah got to sleep in and you made her breakfast with hot cocoa nearly every morning before you had to clock in for work. She’d spend most of her break over at her friend’s house or reading a book either in the living room or her room, anyway.

She has since gone back to school, and having the house to yourself again is still a bit unnerving, which is why it’s nice on days like this where Joel has off from work and can spend some time with you. Even if you’re stuck in your home office on days like today, he checks in on you once in a while to make sure you’re doing okay.

Today has been particularly hard, only because the client you’re working with is demanding as hell and your boss is jumping down your throat to make sure you appease said client. Your face is buried in your hands as you sit and decompress for a minute, and that’s when Joel decides to check in on you. It’s like the man has spidey senses for when you’re going through it or something.

“Hey baby, I brought you some—” He stops short when he sees the state you’re currently in.

“You okay, honeybee?” His voice is gentle and honestly concerned, and your heart melts yet again at how sweet he is.

“Work’s just stressing me out a bit,” you answer truthfully. You look up at him from your seat as he stands beside you, setting down a small bowl of fruit for you to snack on next to you on the desk. You softly smile at the fruit before looking back up at him. “Thank you, handsome.”

“Ain’t a thing, baby. ‘M sorry you’re so stressed. Anythin’ I can do to help?”

He steps behind you now and his large, warm hands land on your shoulders before he begins to massage them. You groan softly and loll your head to the side, rolling your lips into your mouth before shaking your head.

“Nah. Luckily this is my last day dealing with this client, so it’ll only be for a few more hours. Thank you though, baby. It means a lot.”

You reach up and grab one of his hands, giving it a thoughtful squeeze before you let go to reply to an email your boss sent you.

“Well what if I told you that I have a date planned for us this weekend?”

You look up at him with furrowed brows. “Where?” You ask, excitement taking over your body.

“Well, I know everythin’s been kinda hectic with my accident and me healing, your sister’s news, you movin’ in, the holidays, and Tommy and Maria’s engagement. We’ve been so busy n’ we’ve barely had any time to ourselves outside of the house in a while, so I wanna take you somewhere kinda peaceful.”

He doesn’t give away too much, but you’re already on board.

“You’ve got me intrigued. Can’t wait to see what you have up that sleeve of yours.”

“Good, ‘cus I also bought you a couple ‘a things to go along with this weekend’s date.”

“Oh?” You give him an incredulous look, but his boyish shit-eating grin is all you need to see to not ask any further questions, no matter how piqued your curiosity is.

You smile up at him and shake your head, focusing back on your work. You sit in silence for a couple of minutes as he continues to massage your shoulders while you type away.

“I’m gonna go on a run. I’ll be back in time to fix you up some lunch.” He kisses the top of your head before you look up at him with a small smile.

“If I wasn’t glued to this desk right now I’d join you,” you laugh. “Be careful out there, baby.”

“Always am. Maybe I can exercise you in another way later on,” he says, smirking down at you with mischief written all over his face.

“You’re insatiable, Mr. Miller.” But the idea doesn’t sound half bad.

He holds his hands up defensively. “Can’t blame a guy for wantin’ to love his lady right, can you?”

You roll your eyes with a laugh and tug him down gently by his shirt before giving him a lengthy kiss. You release him and pat his abdomen twice. “Have fun on your run, cowboy.”

After a long week, the weekend finally rolled around and Joel still wouldn’t tell you exactly what you two were going to do on your date.

He just kept reassuring you that you’d love it, and you’ve slowly learned to just go with the flow and not ask anymore questions.

He insisted you wear a blindfold this time, and made you get into his truck as he took the next few minutes to put whatever it was in the back seat before you both took off.

You ride passenger for about thirty minutes or so with soft tunes of George Strait playing in the background before you hear gravel crunch under the tires of the truck as Joel turns left.

“You aren’t exploring a new kink right now, are you?” You snort, turning your head in his general direction. “Blindfolding me like this just to take me in the middle of nowhere and have deliciously rough sex with me and make me fall in love with you even more, hm? Is this your diabolical plan?” You can’t help but wiggle your eyebrows at your own absolute absurdness.

He chuckles deeply and you can practically feel him rolling his eyes at you as the brakes squeak slightly and the truck comes to a slow stop. It’s silent for a moment before you hear him move, and you feel the heat of his body right next to you.

“Not today, sweet girl.” The deep raspiness in his voice sends a shiver down your spine. He huffs a laugh before kissing your cheek and taking off your blindfold.

You blink a few times as your eyes adjust to the light, the sun shining brilliantly on land—lots of it. Something shimmers in the distance, and you realize it’s a creek that runs along a trail that looks like it’s meant for horseback riding.

Then it clicks. You look at him with pure excitement in your eyes.

“Are we going horseback riding?”

He can’t help but grin at the giddiness in your tone. “Yeah baby, we are. Figured we’d eat first, though. Packed us some of our favorites and thought we could make a picnic of it as we sit by the creek.”

Your heart absolutely flutters and grows ten times fonder for the man in front of you, if that’s even possible. You try to hold back your tears of gratitude, but one can’t help it and slips down your cheek.

Joel wipes the tear with his thumb as he leans in to kiss your forehead.

You grab his face gently in your hands before admiring his beautiful brown irises.

“Oh, Joel,” you choke out, leaning in for a loving kiss. You rest your forehead against his as you sniffle once. “This is so thoughtful. This place is beautiful. Thank you.”

“‘Course, my honeybee. Life has been too hectic lately n’ I wanted to treat my woman to somethin’ a little more… relaxing.”

“What a lucky lady she is,” you giggle, smiling against his lips and giving them one more peck before you pull away. He opens his door and hops out of the truck, jogging over to your side to open your door before offering his hand to you. You take his hand and he helps you out, feet hitting the ground with a thud.

You both gather the stuff for the picnic before making your way over to the creek that was no more than a hundred yards away.

You set up the blanket on some soft grass as Joel puts the cooler down beside you both, and you sit down across from each other. You admire the atmosphere, with the sun beaming enough to warm you up some and the song of birds chirping in the trees. The sound of water flowing up the creek adds to the blissful ambience, and you sigh in content before noticing a house off in the distance.

“Does someone live over here?” You ask, stretching your legs in front of you as you lean back on your palms to hold yourself upright.

“This is actually my uncle’s land. Tommy n’ I grew up playin’ in these fields and this creek. We’d used to help him on the ranch to earn some extra allowance durin’ the summertime when we got older.”

You imagine a little Joel and Tommy running around in these fields whose grass sways with the gentle breeze—and then you’re picturing kids of your own. Kids that you’d eventually have with Joel. Hearing their little squeals of joy, chasing them around in the soft grass, making new memories for years to come. You imagine Sarah would be the best big sister, despite any age difference they might have.

“This place is beautiful, Joel. Does your uncle still own the land?” You ask, eyes shifting back to him.

He nods. “He does, but he’s had to hire help since he’s a bit too old to take care of the place himself. I know for a while he’d been thinkin’ about sellin’ it, but he says there’s just too many fond memories tied to this place.”

“That’s understandable. I can just imagine a young you and Tommy causing a ruckus around here,” you laugh, and he nudges your leg with his own.

“Don’t mean our mama and pops didn’t talk some sense into us,” he chuckles, face tilting toward the bright blue sky.

“Looks like it did you two some good. They’d be proud of you both, I’m sure. Wish I could’ve met them.” You give him a sympathetic smile, and he gives you a small sad one in return.

“They would’ve absolutely loved you, baby. I can just hear my mama now: ‘Bout damn time you wanna get settled down with someone nice,’” he sighs and reaches for you, and you maneuver yourself onto his lap. You rest your head against his chest as he wraps his arms around you, giving you a small squeeze while kissing your hair.

“She sounds like a lovely woman,” you say, nuzzling into his strong chest.

“She was. I’m very lucky to have had parents that gave my brother n’ I a great example of what true love really looks like, whether it was through their relationship with each other or the love they showered us with. I knew even back then that what Sarah’s mom n’ I had wasn’t true love. It was staying together out of convenience because she’d gotten pregnant. I really tried with her, but nothing made her happy. She became verbally abusive toward me after a while, too. It got even worse after Sarah was born. She didn’t want to be a mother. After everythin’ her and I went through, even after she left us, I’m grateful for her bringin’ my daughter into this world. I love my baby girl more than life itself,” he sighs, taking a breath for a minute as he recounts his past.

“Raisin’ Sarah as a single dad truly was full of trials and tribulations. I did have help from my family, which I’ll always be grateful for, but I was doin’ it all on my own for the most part. Havin’ the odd schedule I have now and makin’ it work around Sarah’s took a long while, but we finally got it down. Nobody had ever wanted to stick around after a night together because they thought that me havin’ a kid was too… complicated. I can understand it from their perspective, but truthfully, nobody ever gave me a chance to get to show them the real me. They just saw me as someone they can check off their bucket list and mess around with because of my job and the uniform I wear. And then you come along, unexpected, knockin’ me off my feet in the best way possible and showin’ me that love is still in the cards for me. You’re it for me, baby. I don’t think I can ever express my gratitude to you for showin’ me what it feels like to be seen and—god—to be loved the way you love me.”

You soak his words in before wrapping your arms around his torso. You press a kiss to his stubbled jaw, letting him silently know that you’re here for him.

“Thank you for opening up to me,” you murmur, tracing your fingers over his back in a soothing motion. “I can’t even imagine what that was like. I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that.” Your voice holds a gratefulness and sadness that isn’t missed, and he shakes his head.

“Thank you for allowin’ me to be my true self, emotions and all,” he says, and you hug him tighter. You recall him telling you that his ex would tell him ‘real men don’t cry’, and your heart hurts for him even more. How could somebody be so cruel to such a loving man?

He sighs and lays down, sun glistening against his beautiful golden skin. You admire his handsome features and softly smile as you bring a hand down to run through his curls.

He pops one eye open before giving your wrist a tug, and you land on him with an oof.

He chuckles and wraps his arms around you, trailing his fingers down so he can put both of his hands in the back pockets of your Wranglers.

“I love you so much, baby.” His voice is thick and low, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

“I love you too.”

The easiness of which the phrase rolls off your tongue is a beautiful thing, you think. You’ve come so far with opening up your heart to Joel, and he, you. You look down at him and savor the way his eyes look like a smooth whiskey in the sunlight, the way the skin around them crinkles when he smiles at you.

You lean down and finally seal your lips to his, and you feel him fully relax as he moves his hands from your back pockets up to the middle of your back and back down again. You stay like this for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of each other as the soft breeze causes the grass to rustle and the sound of water and lips smacking is a harmony lost in the wind.

It isn’t until you hear his stomach rumble that you pull apart from him with a laugh, maneuvering yourself off of him to sit up.

“Sounds like someone’s hungry,” you tease, reaching for the cooler.

“I’m hungry alright,” he says, leaning over to capture your lips in yet another searing kiss.

“I’m serious Joel,” you laugh against his lips. “You gotta eat.”

He sighs and puts his hands up in defeat. “Fine.”

You nudge him with a grin before opening the cooler, revealing sandwiches, grapes, chips, waters, two soda cans, and… chocolate covered strawberries. You raise an eyebrow at him as he smiles sheepishly at you.

“Chocolate covered strawberries?” You parrot your thoughts, moving to sit criss-crossed.

“I know how much you like them so… I made ‘em for you special.”

If your heart could burst anymore, this man would probably be the end of you with his unconditional love. You don’t know how much more you can possibly handle, even though you know you’re going to spend the rest of your life with him. It’s the little things like this that he goes out of his way to do for you that has never been done by anyone, so getting used to his kind gestures has been a rewarding challenge.

“Thank you, honey. This is so kind of you.” You lean over to kiss his cheek before handing his food to him, and you both dive into your meals as you enjoy the serenity surrounding you. Then a pressing thought pops into your head. It takes you a few minutes to conjure up the courage to ask Joel the burning question on your mind, but you eventually find the words.

“Are you serious about wanting kids with me, Joel?” Your voice is soft as you look around again, then meet his gaze.

He swallows his food before nodding. “I’m one hundred percent serious.”

Your heart flutters. “You don’t think the age gap between Sarah and her future siblings would be weird?”

Joel thinks about it for a moment. “No, I wouldn’t say weird. Might just take some time t’get used to. Ever since she was a toddler she’d been beggin’ me to give her a sibling, but I obviously couldn’t do that considerin’ I didn’t have anyone to… procreate with,” he chuckles at the last part. You laugh with him and nod, swallowing the last bite of your sandwich.

“I couldn’t imagine growing up without my siblings. Even when there were times we all fought, we all still laughed about it later on and got over it quickly. Bless my mom and dad’s hearts, ‘cus I know we were all a handful.”

You smile as you reminisce growing up with your brothers and sister. You’d want your future kids to have that type of sibling bond, too.

“I know what you mean. I remember when my mama and pops told me they were havin’ another baby. I was over the moon about it, ‘cus it meant I’d have someone by my side for life. Tommy might be a grade A pain in my ass, but I’m grateful that he and I grew up so close together and stayed that way throughout adulthood.”

“I think Sarah would be a great big sister,” you say, and Joel sports a proud smile that makes your heart melt.

“I think so too, baby.”

“I never thought I’d be talking about having kids with a partner ever again, you know. I’m happy we’re on the same page about this. I think it’s important to discuss this even before we eventually decide to take the next step in our relationship.”

He nods in agreement as he opens the tupperware that has the chocolate covered strawberries, taking one out before bringing his other hand to coax your mouth open. He offers you a bite of the strawberry, and he finishes off the rest of it after you take your bite.

“I’m happy too, baby. ‘S good that we can clarify things now. I’ve never been with someone who can communicate with me so easily, so I thank you for that. I really am just a lucky bastard who got hit on at a coffee shop,” he chuckles, shooting you a wink as you laugh.

“Thanks for taking a chance on me, Miller. Glad I didn’t disappoint.” And with that, you lean in for one last searing kiss before you both finish off the strawberries and dust yourselves off as you take the cooler and blanket back to his truck.

You’re about to head for the stables in the distance, but Joel stops you.

“Wait, I have somethin’ for you,” he says, reaching further into his back seat. He pops his Stetson on and you bite your lip before shooting him a look.

“Haven’t we already established that you in your cowboy hat drives me absolutely wild?” You cross your arms over your chest as you continue to stare at him incredulously.

“Yeah, baby,” he laughs. “But now you get to match me.”

He pulls out another hat and spins around, plopping it onto your head. Your eyes also drift down as he hands you a shoebox.

“Joel, oh my– is this–?” You’re at a loss for words, and he sports a smirk on his face.

“Open the box, sweet girl.”

You do as you’re told, carefully opening the box to reveal a beautiful pair of brown leather cowgirl boots with white floral stitching across the front.

“Joel, these are beautiful. Thank you so much.”

“Ain’t a thing, baby. Try ‘em on.”

You slip off your sneakers and try on the boots, which fit perfectly. Joel adjusts the hat on your head before giving you his million dollar smile.

“Beautiful.”

“You think so, cowboy?”

“Absolutely. And y’know,” he pauses as he slides his hands comfortably on your hips, pulling you flush against his body. “Every cowboy needs his cowgirl.”

He gives you a twirl before dipping you, leaning down to kiss you before standing you upright.

You’re all smiles and giggles as you walk hand-in-hand to the stables, where one of the ranch workers greets you both with a smile.

“Hey Joel, you’ll be ridin’ Stella and Shimmer today,” the man says. Joel gives him a curt nod as the corner of his mouth twitches up into a half smile.

“Thank you, Drew.”

Drew tips his hat to you both before walking off to tend to the other animals near the stables, and you turn toward Shimmer as you begin to gently pet her.

“Hi beautiful girl,” you coo, stroking her snout. She nudges you gently and you grin before glancing at Joel.

“She likes you,” he says.

You beam at him before he chuckles and comes behind you, boosting you by your waist as you situate yourself on the saddle on Shimmer’s back. You continue to stroke her mane as you place your feet in the stirrups, grabbing a firm hold of the reins.

Joel follows suit as he mounts himself onto Stella, and clicks his teeth twice to lead the way out of the stables. Shimmer follows suit, and soon enough, you’re both riding side-by-side on the trail by the creek.

“Thank you for all of this,” you gesture your hand around you both before grabbing back onto the reins. “It means a lot to me. I had a lot of fun.”

“Yeah?” He asks, his voice hopeful.

“Yeah. It’s been absolutely perfect.”

You take a moment to admire him and how the sun’s golden rays shine on him as it slowly starts to set, casting a beautiful orange and pink glow in lieu of bright blue. He gazes at you with such a softness you’ve never witnessed before, and you think it’s a thing beyond love. Devotion, compassion, protection—all in a single look.

A look that has taken care of your heart when it was tender and aching, a look that has pumped it full of love again. It’s a look that flips your world around in the best way possible.

It’s a look that could make you cry. It’s funny, because you never used to be so in-tune with your emotions before. Before Joel, a majority of your life with and after Christian had you feeling so numb and devoid of any feelings or emotions. It was draining, and you didn’t think you’d ever be able to feel so lively ever again.

Well, never say never.

There are no words to describe the love and gratefulness you feel for this man riding beside you, but you know you’re going to spend the rest of your life proving it to him, even if it’s wordlessly done so.

A few months down the line, the ranch ends up becoming a small escape for you and Joel. When you both had free time, you’d slip away and drive to the open fields to enjoy the calmness of the water under the starry nights, laid up in the bed of his truck on top of a bunch of blankets.

It’s the only house around for miles, so it’s super private and quiet. It’s like your own little secret with him as you’d lay there, talking about anything and everything—and sometimes leading to more.

You’re in the middle of more, trying to muffle your moans with Joel’s mouth on yours as his fingers curl inside of you. You’re aching and needy, rocking your hips against his palm so your swollen clit rubs against his flesh. It’s intoxicating, the way his fingers move so perfectly inside of you.

You gasp against his lips as a dark chuckle rumbles in his chest.

“Thas’ it. Atta girl, jus’ like that,” he murmurs his praise as you rock your hips so willingly and meet every thrust of his fingers, so close to your release that your whines start to mesh with your panting. “You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?”

You fist his hair between your fingers and smash your lips to his in urgency, crying against him as a wave of toe-curling bliss surges through your veins.

”Oh, fuck!”

You gush around his fingers and down his wrist, and he lowly hums as your body convulses a few more times, stomach drawing taut as you come down from your high.

“Make such pretty messes, baby. So fuckin’ beautiful.” He kisses your forehead as he withdraws his fingers slowly, sweeping them over your sensitive clit to spread your arousal before bringing his fingers up to his mouth to suck them clean. You clench around nothing at the sight as your head falls back against the makeshift pillows, gaze bleary as you try and slow your breathing and heart rate by staring at the stars twinkling so brilliantly.

Joel dips his head down to kiss you, and you tangle your fingers through his curls once more before dragging a hand down his neck, to his chest, and down to the waistband of his sweats. You palm him through the material, arousal blooming in your core once more as you feel how hard he is for you. Feel how much he wants you.

You stop your ministrations for a beat, separating yourself from his lips as you lick the palm of your hand, only to dip it into his sweats and boxers to wrap it around his length. You give him a small squeeze and he groans, eyes fluttering shut as his head tilts back.

You huff a laugh and lean up to kiss at his thick, warm neck, licking a stripe from his earlobe down to his pulse point. You suck a little on the skin there, loving the way he twitches in your hand. He feels so heavy and warm, and all you want to do in this moment is take care of him the way he deserves—so you do just that. You slide your body down after giving him a kiss, and the dazzling look in his eye is all you need to keep this going.

You settle your shoulders between his thighs, now face-to-face with his weeping cock. You hum before giving the silky flesh a few more tugs before leaning forward, licking the salty bead of pre cum from his slit.

“Such a pretty cock,” you praise, rolling your lips into your mouth before you look up at him. He doesn’t say anything, but you can see the flush that has taken over his neck and face in the pale moonlight. His lips are parted and his breathing is a bit ragged, and he’s just waiting for you to pounce.

Usually, you love to tease him just to see how worked up you can get him, but you’re too impatient and want to hear those delicious moans only reserved for you.

You lick a long, wet stripe on the underside of his cock before sucking his balls into your mouth, pumping his length as you gently massage him with your tongue.

“Oh, fuck me,” he groans, hand shooting out to cradle the back of your head. You hum appreciatively around him, pumping him at a steady pace now before moving your mouth up onto his shaft again. You swirl your tongue around his tip a few times before taking him all, feeling his head hit the back of your throat. Tears prick your eyes as you try to swallow around him and refrain from gagging.

“Holy fuck, baby, you like doin’ this don’t you?” His voice is a deep, raspy mess, and you clench your thighs together at the sound.

He pulls your mouth off of him, the tip of his cock coating your lips in saliva.

“Answer me. You like this, huh?”

Fuck. The possessiveness in his tone makes you want to roll your eyes into the back of your skull as you moan, but you opt for a nod as you rasp out a yes.

“Look so pretty with my cock down your throat. Can fuckin’ see it when you take all of me.”

You suck in a sharp breath before your dazed, fucked out mind conjures up the words before you even realize it. “Like this?”

You lower your mouth back onto him, and he’s spewing a string of groans and curses together, and he eventually moans your name like a prayer on Sunday when you keep deepthroating him like this. You don’t let up, either. You know your throat is going to be absolutely fucking wrecked by the time you’re done, but it doesn’t matter.

Not when you get to see him like this.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth as you let up on his length and just focus your tongue and lips on his tip, making his hips buck up involuntarily. His fiery gaze meets yours and you can tell he’s nearly a goner.

“So…fuckin’...sexy,” he grunts. You grin as you kiss his tip and flutter your eyelashes up at him, taking him in your mouth and down your throat one more time before slowly coming back up, tightening your lips around him.

“Fuck, baby, ‘m gonna–”

He doesn’t have time to finish his sentence before he’s coming undone, coating your tongue and throat with his cum. His body shudders as you slide your tongue up from his length. You swallow and wipe the saliva off of your chin with the back of your hand.

“You really are somethin’ fierce, woman,” he praises. You’re too dazed to respond, so you offer him a grin and a kiss to his thigh.

Joel tucks himself back into his boxers and pulls his sweats up, pulling your body up to his so you’re cuddled into his side. He pulls a blanket over both your bodies and kisses you, and you nuzzle your head onto his chest. His steady breathing and strong heartbeat is what does you in before you even know it.

You wake up in a bit of confusion, amidst hearing a constant buzzing noise. You’re still in the back of the truck with Joel, who’s passed out beside you. His breathing is steady and he looks so at peace, so you try not to move around so much before you finally realize that Joel’s phone is ringing.

You have to dig around a bit to find it before you lift it up and squint against the bright light, only to see he has three missed calls from Tommy. Your heart drops, because Tommy is a huge texter. He only ever calls if something’s really wrong.

“Joel,” you rasp, throat sore from your earlier escapades. His brow furrows and he softly groans, and you softly tap his shoulder. “Baby, wake up. Tommy keeps calling you.”

His eyes crack open and he sits up, grabbing the phone from you. He dials Tommy back and presses the phone to his ear, still clearly trying to wake his mind up.

You can’t ignore the anxious thrum of your heart. You have no idea what it could be about, and Joel’s face reads worry clear as day. You wrap your arm around him and kiss his shoulder in reassurance.

“Tommy, what’s going on?” Joel asks, and you can faintly hear Tommy’s voice on the other end of the line, but can’t make out the words.

“Shit, okay. I’ll be back at the house in 30 minutes.”

Joel hangs up the phone and scrubs his hands over his face before looking down at you. He gives you an apologetic smile before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“Sorry honeybee, we have to go back home. Our captain wants everyone at the fire station in an hour. Somethin’ important he needs to tell us all.”

You furrow your brows and sit up, starting to fold the blankets and pack them away in the cab of the truck. You ride in silence for about fifteen minutes, your hand on Joel’s as his sits comfortably on your thigh. His thumb brushes back and forth in reassurance, but your mind is reeling with possibilities of what could be so important for all of them to know.

“Do you have any idea what your captain might say?”

Your voice is soft with a sleepy lull to it, and Joel looks at you for a couple of seconds with a small smile on his lips.

“No idea, baby. It has to be somethin’ big ‘cus he only calls us in like this if it’s super urgent.”

You nod in understanding, giving his hand a squeeze of reassurance. You arrive home fifteen minutes later, and Tommy greets you both at the front door. You give Tommy a hi/bye hug and Joel a kiss before they’re out the door and driving down the street.

You decide to stay in the living room. Watch a movie or something, and wait for them to come back. You settle onto the leather couch, wrapping a blanket around you as you turn the TV on and keep it at a low volume. Exhaustion sweeps through your bones as you lay still. Your eyelids get heavy, and before you even realize it, you’re out cold once again.

The front door unlocking stirs you from your sleep, and the familiar tread of boots is heard walking into the living room.

“Baby, I’m back,” Joel says.

You open your eyes and yawn, gaze landing on the clock. Eleven p.m.

“Hey,” you say, voice timid. “How’d the meeting go? Is everything okay?”

You sit up, allowing room for Joel to plop down next to you. He spreads his legs and leans his head back against the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I have to leave. Well, Tommy and I have to go. There’s a huge fire that broke out in San Angelo earlier today and it’s spreading fast. They need all hands on deck.”

You take in the information and furrow your brows, pausing for a beat before speaking. “How long will you be gone for?”

He moves his hand from the bridge of his nose and looks at you with a sad expression.

“‘M not sure, sweet girl. Could be for a few days or a few weeks. It really just depends on the conditions of the fire and the surrounding areas.”

You nod in understanding before grabbing his hand, once again squeezing it in reassurance.

“When do you and Tommy leave?”

“Tomorrow morning. Captain told us to rest up as much as possible before we head out. It doesn’t look pretty, and it’s a four hour drive for us.”

“I think you should go wake Sarah up and tell her,” you say. He nods and kisses your head before he trudges up the stairs. You turn off the TV and follow suit, settling into your side of the bed after you wash up and change into your pajamas.

Joel comes into the room a few minutes later, closing the door behind him.

“How is she?” You ask, opening the covers for him. He strips down into just his boxers before climbing into bed with you.

He nods. “She’s okay. Sad that I have to leave, but I told her you’d take real good care of her.”

You huff a laugh and nod in agreement. “That I will, Mr. Miller.”

Then realization hits you—since Tommy is leaving, that means Maria will be alone.

“Are you okay if I invite Maria to stay over here while you guys are gone? I know she can take care of herself, but I’d rather her not be alone for however long.”

“‘Course, baby. ‘S your home, too.”

And, it is, which is an aspect you’re still getting used to.

He settles into you, nuzzling his face into your chest as he inhales deeply. He kisses the skin there once before wrapping his arms around you. You rest your head on top of his, running your fingers through his hair. He falls asleep in a matter of minutes, but you remain wide awake, plagued with the thought of him going out to do his very dangerous job.

You sigh and scold yourself for even thinking about that, because even just the prospect of telling him to stay is so unbelievably selfish. You’d never actually tell him, of course, but you think it and the thought is all-consuming.

You just worry, like any partner would, but you worry even more especially after the nasty accident he had. You know he’s been doing this for a long time, but you’ve learned that fires can be unpredictable and life doesn’t deal in absolutes.

A couple of hours pass and Joel is still sound asleep, meanwhile you haven’t gotten a wink of rest. Your eyes roam to the bedside alarm clock—four fifty in the morning. You sigh softly and get up as carefully as possible, trying not to disturb Joel.

Since you can’t go to sleep, you decide to use your energy to make Joel and Tommy some lunches and a few batches of your cookies that everyone at the firehouse loves so they have something to snack on while they’re on the road.

You start with the cookies and make enough dough for at least three batches, trying to stay as quiet as possible. You hand mix everything and put the three baking sheets in the oven, setting a timer on your phone. While the cookies bake, you make both of their lunches and pack them away.

You can’t stand still and need to keep your hands busy to distract yourself from your looming thoughts, so you go ahead and make a fresh pot of coffee, too.

You pour yourself a cup and put a dash of creamer in it, taking a sip as you lean over the counter and sigh. You close your eyes and rub your temples in an attempt to ease your mind.

You hear a door open upstairs and some shuffling down the steps soon after, and a sleepy Sarah emerges.

She rubs her eyes as she gives you a small smile, making her way to the barstool that’s on the other side of the counter from you.

“You’re up early,” you muse.

“Couldn’t stay asleep,” she says, and she looks at the oven as she sees cookies baking. She raises an eyebrow. “I’m assuming you couldn’t sleep at all.”

“You’ve got that right,” you huff a laugh, taking another sip of your coffee.

“I don’t want him to go.”

Her blunt confession takes you aback, but it gives you a bit of comfort knowing you and her are in the same boat.

“I know, sweetheart.” You reach your hand out to cup hers, running your thumb back and forth over her knuckles.

“I know he’s doing this for good. I just… I don't want to see him hurt again.”

You nod in understanding. “It’s a catch twenty-two.”

She sighs, and you round the counter to bring her into a hug.

“I know it’s not much of a distraction, but how about we go get a pedicure later on? Just to relax a little.”

She nods against you before leaning back to meet your gaze. “I’d love that.”

“Great. In the meantime, are you hungry? I can make you some waffles.”

“Thank you, but I’m not super hungry right now…” she pauses, eyeing the oven. “I’d love one of your cookies, though.”

You laugh and nod, your phone timer going off at the perfect moment. You take all three sheets out of the oven and set them down on racks, letting them cool down. You serve her one before starting to clean up, and that’s when you hear Joel’s heavy footsteps make their way downstairs.

“Morning cowboy,” you tease, pouring his cup of coffee as he stares at you two in confusion.

“Mornin’…you’re both up early.” He makes his way to Sarah and kisses her hair before moving to you, giving you a chaste kiss on the lips. You hand him his cup of coffee and he wraps his arm around you and gives you a gentle squeeze.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, taking a sip.

“What time do you and Uncle Tommy need to be at the station?” Sarah asks, biting into her cookie.

Joel’s eyes glance at the clock on the stove. “Around nine.”

It’s silent for a moment, and Joel looks back and forth between you both.

“Y’all still haven’t told me why you’re both up so early.” He raises an eyebrow, looking to you for an answer.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you shrug.

“At all?”

“No. I laid there for a couple of hours before I got up to make you and Tommy some lunch and a few batches of cookies for the crew while you’re on the road.”

Joel’s eyebrows tug together. He sets his cup of coffee down, circling his arms around your waist. He holds his arm out, silently coaxing Sarah to join in. She hops down from the stool and hugs you both, and you nuzzle into them both. You all stand there for a good minute before Joel is giving you both a squeeze and kisses your heads.

It’s like the sense of dread and anxiety hung in the air, and he clocked in almost immediately.

Not much gets past him—you’ll give him that.

“I love you both very much. I’ll be alright,” he says. “I promise to check in every day when I can, okay?”

His comforting embrace and reassuring words warm your heart.

You all untangle yourselves from the embrace, and you give him a soft smile.

“We love you too, Joel. We just worry for your safety.”

“I know baby, I know. Believe me when I say there’s nothin’ I’d rather do than stay at home with you both, but this is an all hands on deck situation.”

“We’d never ask you to stay, dad. We know this is part of your job and it’s important that you’re there,” Sarah says, pausing as a tremble overtakes her bottom lip. She wraps her arms around him, voice broken and soft when she speaks next. “Just be careful, okay?”

You can see a flash of emotion in Joel’s eyes as he hugs her back, leaning his cheek on top of her head.

“I will, babygirl. I swear to you.”

You’re standing in a small group in the fire station, getting ready to send Joel and Tommy off with the rest of their crew. You’re having a conversation with them two, Maria and Sarah when one of their coworkers—Mark, you think—walks up to you, holding up the bag of cookies.

“I just have to say thank you for these. They’re the firehouse favorite.”

You grin and shrug. “Not a problem. Just a small thank you for everything you guys do.”

He smiles at you and looks at Joel. “She’s a keeper, Miller.”

Joel wraps his arm around your shoulder and kisses your temple. “I know. I’m a lucky, lucky man.”

“Alright, it’s time to head out,” their Captain calls.

You sigh and turn toward Joel. You offer him a small smile as your heart clenches with anxiety, but your expression never wavers.

Sarah gives Joel a tight hug, expression still a bit sullen. You can tell she’s trying her best to hide it, but it slips through and it’s a look you recognize all too well. You give her shoulders a squeeze of reassurance

He has that look in his eyes. The one where it’s filled with worry, with anxiousness. The same look that’s probably in yours, too.

You want to lighten the mood, so you tug him flush against your body by pulling the leather strap of his radio holster that sits across his chest. He laughs as his hands land on your waist, and you push your lips to his.

You separate from him after a few seconds, smiling softly against his lips before you pull apart just enough to see those beautiful, worried brown eyes.

“Be careful out there, cowboy. I love you.”

He squeezes your hips. “I will, baby. I love you too.”

He leans down to give you one more peck on the lips before he moves to say goodbye to Maria. You do the same to Tommy, wrapping your arms around him and giving him a soft little peck on the cheek.

“Take care of each other, yeah? Life’s a lot more fun when you’re both here with us, unharmed.” You look between Joel and Tommy with a sternness they’ve never seen before.

Tommy’s eyes crinkle as he smiles at you, his dimple showing up along with a flash of white teeth.

“You got it, boss.”

He salutes you, and you sidle up beside Sarah and Maria as you wave them both goodbye. They climb into the same truck, and they’re on their way to San Angelo.

Two weeks have passed, and Joel still isn’t home. He keeps his promise on checking in every day when he can, sometimes shorter conversations than others, but you’re grateful nonetheless.

Today, your siblings all agreed that a lunch was much needed between you four so you could all catch up. It was the perfect distraction, and with Sarah at school and Maria at work, you agree immediately. It’s so odd being in an empty house when you’re not on the clock, and since you’d finished with your clients early, you had the rest of the day to yourself.

You meet up with them at a local diner, slipping into the booth next to Emily. She has a small belly now, and you lean down to air kiss it before greeting her, Andy and Cole.

“I’m so glad we got to do this,” Emily says, and you all nod in agreement.

“I know. It’s been awhile since I’ve harassed you guys,” Andy jokes. You roll your eyes and throw your crumbled up straw wrapper at him.

“So how goes it?” Cole asks, leaning back in the booth. The young waitress stops by your table to take your orders before collecting the menus, and Emily starts.

“Things have been great, actually. Baby boy is healthy and Josh got promoted at work.” She runs a hand over her belly, and your eyes light up.

“I’m so happy for you, Emi. How does Josh like the promotion?”

“It’s great, really. He gets more time off now, especially to come with me to my appointments, and he got a pretty significant increase in his salary.”

“That’s so good. I still can’t believe you’re having a kid. My nephew is gonna be a little stud with the coolest uncles,” Andy says.

“What am I, chopped liver?” You laugh, rolling your eyes.

“You’re only semi-cool. You’re with a cool guy, though, so I guess that raises your points.”

“God, you men are so fucking weird with your logic sometimes.”

“Yeah yeah,” Andy waves your words away, before his expression gets a bit more serious. “How is he though? How’s Tommy?”

“They’re okay. They’re exhausted, though. The fire had spread rapidly because of the winds, and they’re still in the process of containment, but I think it’s almost at one hundred percent.”

“Fuck. I can’t even imagine. We had a pretty dry winter too, which probably didn’t help much,” Cole says. You shake your head and gnaw on your lip, deciding to change the subject for your own sanity. Emily senses it, because your sister knows you like the back of her hand, and she finds your hand folded in your lap and gives it a reassuring squeeze. You squeeze right back.

“So what’s been going on with you two? Anything new?” You look between your brothers, and the waitress drops off your food before they can say anything.

Cole’s eyes avert to the basket of fries in front of him, and you raise an eyebrow as you watch him carefully. He finally opens his mouth to speak, but snaps it shut when Andy starts to talk.

“Not much. Work is good. Can’t complain.” Andy shrugs his shoulders and takes a bite of his burger, and you nod before looking back to Cole. You nudge his foot under the table and his gaze snaps up to yours, and you give him an encouraging smile.

“That’s good, Andy,” Emily says.

“I, uh, I met someone,” Cole starts. Everyone’s eyes shift to him, and he sports a small smile. “It’s still pretty new, though, so that’s why I haven’t mentioned it before.”

“Hell yeah, brother. Happy for you,” Andy claps Cole’s shoulder and he smiles.

“Where did you meet?” You ask, popping a fry into your mouth.

“Met her at the bar we went to a few months back. Finally bucked up and asked her on a date a couple of weeks ago, and it’s been going good ever since.”

Although Cole seems to exude confidence, you know he’s more on the shy side when it comes to romance. You and him have always been the shy kids, while Andrew and Emily were outgoing and bubbly. When Emily first told you to put yourself out there with Joel, the shy shell of a woman you used to be went into fight or flight mode—but she ultimately ended up being right.

You can hear it now: That’s what big sisters are for.

You’re grateful you and your siblings are all close in age. Although you’ve all fought over stupid, miniscule things that seemed like the whole world when you were younger, you all ended up being very close, which is something you’ll never take for granted.

“That’s great, Cole. I hope we can meet her when you’re comfortable enough to bring her around our crazy family,” Emily laughs, and you all chime in and chuckle along.

“I think Josh and Joel can attest to that,” you say. “I told him he could’ve run for the hills before Emi’s wedding, but that man stuck by my side and told me he wanted to meet all of you.”

“Now that—” Cole swallows his bite of food, “—Is a real man.”

“And look at how happy he’s made you. I love seeing you together, especially after everything you’ve been through,” Emily says.

Andy’s face turns sour, frowning at the vague mention of your ex. “If I ever see him in person again I won’t hesitate to deck him in the face.”

You didn’t have to question who he was. You already knew. “Get in line, Andy. Joel has first dibs.”

The corner of his mouth lifts up in amusement before he reaches out to you, palm upward, making a ‘give me’ motion with his fingers.

“Give me my ticket.”

You laugh and push his hand away, and lighter conversation ensues the rest of lunch.

The waitress drops the check off at the table, and you mumble that you’ll Zelle whoever pays as the other three fight over the check. Your phone rings and you pull it out of your pocket to see who it is.

Your eyebrows furrow as you see your attorney’s name across the screen of your phone. You slide the answer button over and cover your other ear so you can hear him better.

“Hello?”

“Hey! Long time no talk. I have some good news,” he says.

“Hey, yeah, how are you? What’s the news?”

“I’m good, but even better now—apparently whoever hit you in your accident was some big wig’s kid, and the parents want to pay you out a big amount for your car and, as they said, ‘any emotional damage caused by this accident’.”

“Oh fuck,” you say. You rub your forehead with your thumb and forefinger. “Sorry, sorry. Uh—how much?”

In all honesty, you’d sort of forgotten about your accident because so much has happened in your life since that day. You smile fondly at the memory of Joel kissing you in the back of that ambulance, within only hours of knowing each other at that point.

You had no idea that it would’ve led to this. A good life with an even greater man.

“They sent out a check to your house, but I think it’s in the hundred thousands range.”

Your eyes bug out of your head and your jaw drops.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Your siblings all look at you in confusion, but you still can’t wipe the look of shock off of your face.

Your attorney laughs at your initial reaction, but you’re still in utter disbelief.

You can’t even fathom that kind of money, but you’re sure your attorney is used to those kinds of numbers.

“Yeah, so keep a lookout for a check in the mail,” he says.

“Um, yeah, will do. Thanks for giving me a call.”

“Of course. I’ll touch base with you if anything else comes up.”

You say goodbye and hang up, and you meet your siblings’ gazes.

And, with a small smile, you pluck the bill from Andy’s hands. “Actually, lunch is on me today.”

You almost fall over when you open the envelope with your check in it.

Half a million dollars. You don’t know who the hell this kid’s parents are, but writing a check for five hundred thousand is fucking insane.

You stare at the numbers in disbelief as you sit at the edge of the bed, sun casting its brilliant golden glow across the paper in your hands. The paper that reads half a million fucking dollars. It’s like a jackpot lighting up in Vegas or something.

You don’t know how long you stare, but if you did any longer, your eyes would burn holes in the paper. You slide the check back in the envelope and put it in your underwear drawer underneath your sports bras, because you honestly just can’t believe that it’s real.

And later that night, when Joel FaceTimes everyone to say hi and check in, you don’t say a word about it.

It’s not that you want to keep it from him, but you have an idea of what you’d like to do with a portion of the money, and you’d rather keep that idea a surprise for the time being.

You trudge upstairs once more after Maria and Sarah say goodnight to Joel and Tommy, but Joel tells you to stay on the phone. He watches you do your night routine before you slip into an old oversized Texas A&M sweatshirt of his, sliding into bed.

“I miss my woman somethin’ awful,” his deep voice rings through the phone. You look at the screen and sigh, a small smile settling onto your lips. He looks so exhausted, and all you want is for him to be safe at home again. By your side in bed.

“I miss you too, handsome. How’s it looking out there?”

He groans as he settles onto a bed himself folding an arm to lay his hand behind his head.

“‘S kickin’ our asses. Embers from the original fire sparked a new one. It’s smaller, but these winds ain’t helping a damn thing.”

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry to hear that,” you say, gnawing on your lip as your eyebrows furrow in worry. “I feel awful that I can’t do anything to help.”

“There is one thing,” he says. You recognize the tone in his voice—want.

“What’s on your mind, Mr. Miller?”

“You wearin’ my old sweatshirt?” He asks.

You purse your lips and nod, watching how his expression turns lustful and determined in the confines of his temporary bedroom.

“Wearing it ‘cus it smells like you,” you confess.

A groan rips from his throat and scrapes low in your belly, and your eyes flutter shut as you feel slick already beginning to pool from the heat between your legs.

“Are we really gonna do this?” You huff a laugh, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I was a touch-starved man before I met you, baby. Then you go n’ spoil me with your pretty hands that can’t seem to keep to themselves.”

“You could always tell me to stop, you know,” you purr. There’s some shuffling on the other end, and you see his heavy lidded eyes gaze at you.

“I’d be insane to do so, darlin’.”

“Would you?”

He moans softly, and you realize he’s probably rubbing himself up. God, you wish that was your hand.

“Mhm. Love when your hands are all over me, especially wrapped around my dick.”

You can’t help but giggle, and a ghost of a smile curls at the corner of his lips.

“Love that sound, too,” he adds.

“You know what I love?” Your voice is teetering on the edge of a seductive whisper.

“Hm?”

“I love when my big, strong hunk of a man makes me feel so loved and protected. Allows me to delve into my femininity. Uses his strong hands and thick fingers to make me see stars.”

You realize you’re probably babbling at this point, but your words seem to do the job just fine. Joel’s eyebrows pinch together and that all-too familiar muscle in his jaw ticks wildly.

“Turn the camera around, Joel. Show me.”

He doesn’t hesitate to flip the camera around to face the impressive outline of his cock in the gray sweats he’s wearing. Your thighs clench together at the sight, imagining what it’d be like to grind on him until he came undone. Hear his moans and strings of curses as he reaches his peak.

“Fuck, honey,” you whine.

“This is what you do t’me, baby.”

His voice almost sounds pained, but you know it’s because he’s held in so much tension the past couple of weeks with no way to release it. You’d do anything to distract his mind from the exhaustion he feels and fires at hand, even if it’s for a brief few moments.

You decide to be a little raunchy, because fuck, you’re already in this position, and you want to be a good distraction—again—even if it’s brief.

You make a show of yourself sliding your fingers down the valley of your breasts and down your stomach, wasting no time to reach your desired destination. You swipe your middle and ring finger through your slick folds, coating them in your arousal before you bring your fingers up to show the camera—to show Joel—how much he turns you on.

You separate your fingers, and a string of your slick connects between the two.

“This is what you do to me.”

Joel all but growls at the sight, slipping his hand into his sweatpants to grab his aching cock. You can just imagine how warm and heavy it feels in his big palm, and you sigh at the thought.

“Fuck, baby. Be a good girl n’ touch yourself for me.”

He’s breathless, but the sound sends shockwaves through your body as more slick gushes eagerly from your aching, needy center.

You slip your two fingers in your mouth, humming around them as you taste the tangy-sweet flavor of yourself.

“Shit,” he says, a moan scraping from his throat. You grin like the Cheshire Cat before slipping your fingers down again, alternating between rubbing your clit slowly and dipping your fingertips into your cunt.

You flip the camera around to show him, and it sounds like he nearly whines from the sight. You suck in a breath as you stop teasing yourself, slipping the two fingers fully into yourself. You pump them languidly, and hearing Joel’s ragged breath and gasps on the other end of the line has you writhing.

“You don’t know how bad I wish these were your fingers and not mine,” you gasp out, grinding your hips up into your palm.

“Oh don’t worry baby,” he pants, “‘M gonna give you everythin’ you need n’ more when I come back.”

“That a promise?”

“Mmm—mhm.”

He matches the stroke of his cock with the pump of your fingers then.

“Can’t wait to be buried in that pretty little pussy. Take me so well. Fuckin’ made for me, baby. So fuckin’ tight n’ warm. ‘S like a dream,” he babbles, and you have to bite down on the collar of the sweatshirt to keep a moan ripping from your throat.

”Need your mouth all over me too, Joel,” you cry, “Love it when you let me cum by your tongue.”

“Yeah? Next time I’ll have you usin’ my face as a fuckin’ seat. Hold you down so you have no choice but to cum in my mouth over n’ over again.”

“Oh, god.”

“You like that, huh? The thought of fuckin’ my face to get you off?”

The words die on your tongue as you try to speak, but the pleasure that was once a low burn in your belly is now its own full-fledged sun. It’s so white hot and you’re on the edge, gripping the phone in your hand for dear life.

“Answer me,” he growls.

“Fuck, yes! Yes yes yes,” you whisper-cry, and you’re unraveling before him on camera. You soak your hand and undoubtedly the sheets beneath you, but that’s a tomorrow problem. Your body convulses a few times and you moan as you see the white spurts of cum land on his stomach. He moans your name like a prayer on Sunday, and it makes you shiver with seemingly untamable arousal.

He breathes heavily before grabbing a tissue to clean himself up, tucking himself back into his sweats before he flips the camera back around to his face.

His cheeks and neck are flushed, and you can see the sweat on his forehead as he tries to steady out his breathing. You stretch and roll over on your side, laying your head on his pillow to inhale his scent.

“I love you, my honeybee.”

You smile at the nickname and yawn, stretching your limbs one more time before curling in on yourself.

“I love you too, cowboy. I can’t wait ‘til you’re next to me in bed again.”

“I can’t wait either, darlin’. I hope this is all over with soon n’ I can love on you the way you deserve.”

You grin sleepily at his words, post-coital drowsiness wrapping around your body like a weighted blanket.

“Stay safe out there.”

“I will. I promise.”

And you’re fast asleep soon after you hang up. You dream blissfully of life with Joel in the fields by the ranch, of your future with him, of the memories you’ve yet to create.

You dream of Joel happy and safe, not an ounce of the beautiful man troubled.

But this is real life. This isn’t a fantasy where you can wish good things for people and it just magically happens at the snap of a finger, a rub of a lamp.

His resolve was slowly crumbling. The weight of the world was sitting steady on his shoulders, breaking him down piece by piece.

Each broken fragment of him, scattered and fragile, lay in your hands—

and this time, it was up to you to put him back together.

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#fic: a burning desire #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #firefighter!au #firefighter!joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel fic #joel x reader #pedro pascal characters #joel miller series

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lucygraysboy · 1 day ago

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“yeah? thank you! i mean, that’s a very useful skill, you know? if you know how to knit, you can always knit yourself a sweater or a scarf or a blanket, and stay warm throughout winter and out on the prairie when the nights get cold,” the cowboy muses, not even trying to hide his excitement and straight up beaming at the kind songstress. he already knows she’s a great student, highly intelligent and curious, but he wonders what kind of teacher she is — patient and kind, is his bet, but it will be fun to swap places and see. “you’re bein’ way too sweet, lucy gray. that means a lot, comin’ from a girl as smart as yourself.” blushing when he realizes she remembers little details about him, his heart skipping a beat. how adorable is that? means she truly cares about him and listens to what he has to say. “you think so, too?” his features light up all at once, feeling as though they’re connected by some invisible string, sharing thoughts. not many people are fascinated by poems. not everyone can read to begin with, let alone understand the meaning of poetry. lucy gray is just so extraordinary. “oh, right! resistin’ arrest! one of my many talents. changin’ names, that’s another one,” he laughs, nodding in agreement, amusement brimming in his eyes. “well, first of all, i prefer the word strong-willed, sounds more like a compliment than an insult. but i was a very stubborn child, wouldn’t listen to no one but my ma. always bossed my little brother around, but that was just ‘cause i wanted to take care of him best i could.” mr. antrim couldn’t even dream of telling him what to do, stopped trying after a few attempts. “kind of, yeah. i like to get things done my own way, but… i would never try to boss you, lucy gray. you’re my partner, a lot smarter than me. i’ll listen to you.” god, he despises men who try to rule over women and vows to never become one of them.

“no, not yet.” the cowboy shakes his head, frowning briefly but the sound of lucy gray’s laugh is enough to have him smiling again. “but she could have, alright? bet she wanted to, just didn’t want to get on your bad side.” he explains awkwardly, looking over his shoulder and finding the goat still glaring at him menacingly. she hates him. maybe no amount of dandelions will change it. “i ain’t ever milkin’ her.” he’ll shovel horse shit for hours, but he won’t get anywhere near that grass-munching demon. his fingers curling around lucy gray’s, feeling safe enough to triumphantly stick his tongue out at shamus. “thank you for savin’ me.” running to the safety of the porch, billy can’t refrain from laughing, squeezing his friend’s hand and letting her be the hero while he’s clearly the damsel in distress. jesse would be laughing his ass off if he could see him now. “alright, that’s a lot of taters.” he picks up a small kitchen knife before taking the potatoes from her, he’s just waiting for her to grab some carrots, lingering in the threshold.

“oh, i’d love to.” that comes as a sweet, endearing little surprise that he wants to learn how to knit. voice chipper because she’d love to be his teacher in showing him how to knit, that’d be fun and he’d learn something knowledgeable. “i remember you sayin’ you liked poetry. people who like to read, are always people who are smart. and that proves it.” smiling widely, going around with a sense of pride for him for some reasoning. above getting in all this trouble, he seems to have his head on right. she’s always proud of people who seem down to earth and smart— mentally and emotionally. especially young fellows, since tender-hearted and smart ones doesn’t come often. “and that’s right, poems are a lot like that. i find it fascinatin’ you’ve pointed that out.” brunette tells him, endearment staying etched softly across her olive visage. “i can tell you’re stubborn in resistin’ arrest,” words amusingly spoken, “but i don’t know in what else.” he’s been pretty lenient with her, but she has only known him for two days now. “you’re sayin’ you’re bossy? well, you met your match, you won’t boss me. i’m bossi-er.” lucy gray playfully adds, clearly— with her deep stubbornness.

turning to check his reaction, it doesn’t fail to have her belly laughing, giggles pouring out of her. never going to get this image of what she sees out of her head now, the way he looks so panicked and then takes off so quick from the barn to come to her for safety. “what is it, darlin’? did she already get you on the rear end?” more laughter spilling over, hand reaching out to take hold of his. “i’ll save you, don’t worry.“ pulling him the rest of the way to the porch, running them to it like shamus is so terrifying. she’s just a tender soul, even though she could bite him— but lucy gray’s sure she’d have to feel provoked. laughing all the way into the house, she lets his hand go once she pushes open the screen door and leads them to the potato box in the kitchen. opening the lid, digging in, scooping out a few and placing some into his hands while her face still hurts with amusement after playing little goat tricks on him.

#billysgirllol #BIG BAD OUTLAW SCARED OF A LIL TRAUMATIZED GOAT #no but you know what's gonna break our hearts? when billy and shamus finally begin to form a bond and then he and lg will have to run #and leave her behind :((((

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wardenparker · 19 hours ago

Text

In the Still of the Night, Epilogue

Zach Wellison x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Grown up and looking to the future, Zach Wellison and bunkmate Shane Morrissey are working for a new cruise line that offers its guests a vintage Vegas experience on the Mediterranean. The romantic atmosphere is rubbing off on many of the crew members, and Zach finds himself to be no exception when he meets the beautiful lead singer of Shane's band.

But being wrapped in the seductive arms of an atmospheric cruise is a far cry from real life. How will their relationship fare on dry land? They can't know unless they try.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 7k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, cooking, eating, discussion of clothing/costumes. Mentions of prison time served, mentions of past homelessness.* Fluff, sweetness, pregnancy (not reader). Summary: On the tenth anniversary of the opening of your night club, life is still an adventure for you, Zach, and all your chosen family. Notes: What an absolute joy these babies have been to spend time with! Zach doesn't get enough love and it was a delight to spend time with him on this little journey. Thank you to the mighty, faithful few who read along the whole way. We see you and we appreciate you every single week. 🧡

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10

“Has anybody seen my husband?”

The number of times that sentence has been shouted out in this building is probably too high to count, but surprisingly it isn’t you asking it today.

Zach is back in his kitchen, exactly where you left him two minutes ago to hightail it up to your dressing room. It’s not even Diana, who has taken the night off from the hospital to be here for the party.

It’s River that is calling out in frustration to find the whereabouts of her perpetually-hard-working soulmate, and you just laugh to yourself knowing he’s probably halfway inside an electrical closet or something right now.

“Yeah!” Keo snorts and points down the hallway towards the stairs that leads up to the offices and the apartment that you had built out of the old prop rooms for visiting performers. A lot of guest performers loved not having to incur hotel expenses or crash on couches when they were invited to stay. Plus, it had been used several times when daycare issues had arisen for staff, the family oriented atmosphere extending to bringing kids to work when necessary. “He’s fixing something with a sink?”

“Of course he is.” She throws up her hands and rolls her eyes with a dramatic sigh. “God forbid we hire a plumber. Or electrician. Or a carpenter. Nope it’s two hands and a tool box every time.”

“Isn’t that like- what he does?” Shane asks, grinning when she cuts her eyes over at him dangerously. “I don’t see a lot of cattle ranches in Brooklyn.”

"You never know." You chime in, matching your bandmate's grin. Teasing River is just a tiny bit too easy when it comes to her soulmate. "The hipsters are still everywhere. One of them might have turned their industrial walk up into an urban ranch."

“Don’t say that.” She huffs. “He’ll be there fixing the damn lighting!” Despite her currently attitude, she’s incredibly proud of him.

"Brighter for simulated daylight, or dimmer to be soothing for better tasting beef?" You tease, nearly cackling with laughter.

Her answer is a middle finger up in the air and a grin when you both stick your tongues out at her as she turns towards the stairs. “See if I save you a plate for when you get off stage!” She throws over her shoulder playfully, knowing full well tonight isn’t even the traditional dinner being served.

"Love you, baby!" You call after her, but lean against Shane's side to let your laughter subside until you sigh the rest away. "I tried to warn her before they went out, but did she listen? Nooo, she had to have her cowboy." It's all in good fun, of course. River and Darrel are head over heels for each other and have been since they met. If she occasionally gets exasperated with his chipper can do attitude? It's never that serious.

River had been delighted to get the call from you, a little relieved and very surprised that you had plans for the future that were ones that she could be involved with. You had persuaded her to join you, becoming the front of house management. Taking care of customers and handling reservations with the same chipper attitude that had made her successful during her cruise contracts. Coming to New York had been the best thing for her, and meeting the man who is currently head first under a sink right now is one of the reasons.

"Gimme just one second, darlin'." Darrel drawls when she finds him half under the staff bathroom sink. He recognizes her distinctive stride in the click of her heels on the tile. "Am I in trouble or is there another fire to put out?"

“That’s a loaded question.” She snorts, a smirk on her face. “What did you do that you should be in trouble for?” She asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

A warm, soft chuckle sounds from under the sink, and Darrel folds himself slightly to be able to peek out from underneath to shoot her a grin. "Thought maybe you'd seen your office," he admits.

“What’s wrong with my office?” She demands, even as she feels herself melting at the sight of his grin. Damn him for being so irresistible.

"Nothing at all, darlin'." He promises her, since he wouldn't consider it wrong at all. The small room is filled top-to-bottom with her favourite flower to commemorate the night they met, and that is very right in his book. Ten years ago on this very day he'd come up to New York to be a part of the opening night of this club, and found his soulmate there amongst so many new friends.

“Oh.” She melts slightly at his tone, biting her lip and looking behind him. “Are you almost finished?” She asks. “I need to talk to you.”

"Yeah honey, just give me a few more minutes." He's tinkering, but he's good at tinkering and always has been. "What time is it? Opening time's coming up fast."

“You’ve got about twenty minutes.” She promises, smiling as she imagines his reaction to her news.

“Yes ma’am.” He manages another peaking grin for his wife before he disappears under the sink again. “Should be done here in five or maybe ten minutes. That’ll give me time to change.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you in my office?” Now that he’s said something, she’s gonna worry until she lays eyes on the office space. She had been so excited to talk to him that she hadn’t bothered stopping by it.

"Absolutely, darlin'." He calls back, making sure he's loud enough to be heard as he works. "I'll be as fast as I can."

“I love you.” She smiles as she turns and walks back towards the stairs so she can go to her office. Happy nerves twisting in her stomach.

Halfway back down the hall, you nearly run straight into River as you hustle back through the administrative area of the club. "Did you find him?"

“Tinkering.” She rolled her eyes but there is a soft smile on her lips. “God love him.”

"Not God," you hum, nudging her and smiling in turn. "But you. And it's still so fucking cute."

“Like you and Zach still aren’t over the honeymoon phase.” She huffs, wrapping her arm around your waist. “Two kids later.”

"Ugh I'm trying so hard not to think about them," you admit with a laugh. The two of you start down the hallway at a stroll with your arms around each other and sappy grins on your faces. "I thought I was going to be okay leaving the kids with the babysitter tonight but the longest we've been away from the baby so far is just a dinner date."

“Because you are an amazing mother.” She praises easily. “I can only hope I’m half as good.”

"When it happens, you're going to be amazing." There is not a single doubt in your mind about that. River and Darrel are fantastic pair and have a great relationship with their nieces and nephews. They've been trying to get pregnant for a while now but haven't been lucky, so your fingers are perpetually crossed for them.

Her smile lights up her face and she pulls you in for a quick hug. “Thank you.” She whispers, both for the kind words and for bringing her into the same sphere as her soulmate. Some might find it odd that you had slept with her soulmate, but she had just marveled at how the universe works.

"We're gonna have a hell of a party tonight." At the door of Zach's office, you blow her a kiss and wave as she trots off to head to her own. "Hey handsome." Your own husband has been at work for hours, but it's a relief to see him sitting down for just a few minutes with a glass of cold water before diving right back in to the chaos of the night.

“Hey.” He lights up when he sees you, setting down the water and reaching for your waist to pull you onto his lap. “How are you doing?” He asks softly, aware that you might be emotional about leaving the kids at home.

"Mom pains," you laugh, knowing what he's asking. "I'm excited for tonight but I miss our babies."

“I know.” He chuckles. “So when you want to sneak off to call the babysitter, you just do it.” He winks at you and caresses your hip. “Maybe we can sneak home early.”

"She promised to text me some videos while the kids are awake," you admit. There's no shame in that for you at all. "I was going to watch them between sets."

“Yeah?” He shoots you a grin. “Better than I honestly expected.”

"I'm trying to behave myself." When your first born was little you had been a little...hovering. Now that you have two, you're trying to remember to step back a little and breathe.

“Baby, I completely understand.” He flashes you a guilty look. “I might have installed those baby cameras we were talking about this morning while you were asleep.”

"You did?" Immediately perking up in his lap, you look like a cat that has just been offered a whole saucer of cream.

“I did.” He chuckles at your excitement and pulls his phone out of his front pocket. “It’s already logged in.”

"It's not about wanting to check on Carola, she's great." You've been lucky enough to have the same babysitter for the last four years, ever since your son was born. She's just finished her undergrad work at Columbia and is starting grad school and is the very best babysitter you could ever ask for. "It's about seeing my little angels."

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to explain anything to me.” He promises, leaning in and pressing his lips to your cheek. “I feel the same way. Now I can look in when I miss them.”

"So..." The grin you flash him is teasing. "That would be all the time?"

“You know it.” He laughs but you understand. “I should just have a tv put up in the kitchen.”

“It might save time.” Cuddling into his lap, you watch the little monitor on his cell phone come to life and feel your heart thud happily when the image you’re greeted with is your baby girl in her crib.

“It might, but then again, I don’t want the entire kitchen in my daughter’s bedrooms.” He trusts every one of his cooks with a lot, but that would be a privacy issue. The townhouse is a sanctuary for you and the kids.

“Couldn’t agree more.” Zach is a doting girl dad, but he isn’t crazy about keeping an eye on them all the time, and honestly you’re proud of the way the two of you have managed to balance parenthood.

“I’ll load it up on your phone tonight so we can check in whenever we need to.” The past ten years have been the best years of his life and he loves how the two of you have expanded your business, your relationship, your lives into what they are now. “Have I told you how gorgeous you are today?” He hums, his hands sliding up your thighs to your hips.

“Maybe.” The hum of a laugh bubbles up on your lips. “And if you tell me like that, I’m going to be pregnant all over again.”

“I wouldn’t mind.” He promises, even if you’ve just come back to work. Tonight is your first performance since blessing him with his second daughter.

“Of course you wouldn’t.” You can’t help but laugh a little as you turn around in his lap to press a kiss to Zach’s lips. “Making the girls is your favorite part.”

There’s a cocky smirk on his lips as he nudges his nose against yours. “Didn’t hear a complaint from you about making them. Most of the time you were begging for more.”

“Damn right I was.” Another kiss. And then two more because he’s looking exceptionally happy and handsome tonight. “Because I’m not an idiot.”

“I love you.” He murmurs softly. “You look amazing, baby.” You’ve been nervous about baby weight but he thinks you look incredible.

"I love you, too." The dress you have on is one of your grandmother's, just like you had talked about years ago. The tenth anniversary of your family-run supper club is a very big deal and deserves to be honored in the best way possible. "More every single day."

“I don’t know how that is possible.” He hums, even though he would tell you the exactly same thing. “Everything is prepped and the reporters we invited have already come through for a behind the scenes peek at the kitchen for pictures.”

“I still can’t believe we’re getting an anniversary profile done on this place.” It has settled in your heart like something calm and soothing after the excitement of so many years — but your grandfather’s family theater is now booming again and it has become a family business for so many other couples and young kids now that you could basically run a daycare for all the staff and it would be as fully booked as any other.

“I think the reservations are going to be months out after this.” Zach admits, feeling just as blessed. “I might have let them try everything we are serving tonight.”

“I think you should.” You hum softly, leaning your forehead against his. “You never know which bite is going to be the one that makes somebody fall in love.”

“Are you saying you fell in love with me because of my food?” He asks teasingly, knowing full well why the two of you are such a solid team. Both of you strive to love each other more every day. Respecting each other and working together for the life you love.

“I’m saying we have a constant stream of dates, proposals, and anniversary celebrations here for a reason,” you hum, letting another kiss punctuate your point. “And the bachelorette parties are starting to get more frequent, too.”

“So you’re saying we need to bring in those Chippendale dancers?” Zach snorts, shrugging slightly. “Have the special be bangers and mash that night?”

“That’s obviously exactly what I meant,” you tease back, nudging him before you move to climb out of his lap. “We’ll go themed from now on.”

He chuckles as he pats your ass in appreciation. He loves the way your body has filled out with the birth of your two children, although as a performer you had been fretting about fitting into your dresses. It had worked out in the end and he likes the fact that there’s a little more in some places. “Sounds good, baby.” He hums. “I know you sometimes need a break.”

“That’s what we have Jeannine for.” Keo’s soulmate had turned out to be a singer as well, and with her on board to join the band and become part of the club’s family, it had ensured that you both get good vocal rest and every guest got a fantastic show. Tonight you’ll be on together which is twice as much fun.

“And the kitchen staff is coming along so well, I could step back and let them run things with no worries.” He admits, smirking proudly.

“Which you would never do.” No, you know your husband far too well for that.

“It wouldn’t be fair to ask them to work the late hours if I’m not.” He reasons with a shrug.

“Mmhmm.” The grin never leaves your face. “It has nothing at all to do with both of us being workaholics.”

“Nothing at all.” Zach has been determined to help you regrow the inheritance from your grandmother. Wanting to pay back every penny it took to remodel the theatre. Even if you protest, he wants to be able to give the girls something.

“Does that mean you’re ready to work that cute butt off tonight?” It’s going to be nonstop, but you both like it that way. Right now it’s the calm before the storm — a storm that you’re so familiar with it might as well be your oldest child.

“Of course.” He huffs. “I have to uphold my end of this deal. Amazing food to go with your spectacular singing.” He never fails to praise you. “And I like the idea of doing all of this canapé style. Finger foods and tasters.”

“It makes it feel like one big party.” He comes to your outstretched hand easily, as though you had done kind of magic to draw him in even after ten years. “It’s going to be perfect. I can feel it.”

“Of course it is.” He smiles and drops a soft kiss on your lips, careful to not smudge your lipstick too much. “I get to hear an angel sing in the kitchen.” He had speakers put in the kitchen when he had it built so he could hear you perform.

“Still such a flatterer.” And you love it just as much as you always have.

“Not flattery when you are just telling the truth.” He promises.

“I love you too.” The promise will never fade, but for now you tug him out of his office — otherwise you really won’t get a single thing done.

The chaos of the kitchen is still ongoing, it won’t stop until the door is closed and the last counter is wiped down, but it is smooth. Everyone knows their roles too well to be in each other’s way and the design is supposed to make the kitchen flow seamlessly.

“Chef!” It’s a comment shouted at least a dozen times a night but Zach swings towards the sound. “We need a second opinion.”

There is a set of three prep containers set out on the counter, all of them bearing different sauces, and it's obvious that the time has come for decision making. There are a hell of a lot of things to sauce and garnish tonight and everything has to be perfect.

“What do we have?” Zach asks, smirking slightly at the way the two frown seriously at him.

"Horseradish cream for the steak and parsnip blinis," his saucier points out each thing that requires approval. Each thing is slightly off and the chef's keen palette is needed tonight to make sure everything is completely perfect. "The whipped herbed brie for the fig crostini. And the third is the sweet chili cocktail sauce for the shrimp."

Zach coats the sauces on the backs of two spoons. First the horseradish. He hands one to you since you have become so involved with his cooking. You still aren’t amazing at whipping up your own creations but you can tell someone what they are missing.

"Is this a test?" You tease, knowing that is sort of is and sort of isn't. He likes to have you in the kitchen with him and his staff has come to accept and expect the slightly unconventional input.

“Just tell me what you think.” He snorts, rolling his eyes as he takes a tentative lick of the spoon and hums.

It doesn't surprise you that everything that comes out of Zach's kitchen is good, but you perk up at the first taste of the horseradish sauce. "Oo, herby!" It's bursting with flavor, but you tilt your head to the side to try to actually think and provide a helpful opinion. It's...a little salty, I think? Acid to balance?"

He grins at your descriptions and he nods, taking another taste. “Lemon juice.” He agrees and looks at the saucier. “I think we add a tablespoon of lemon juice at a time until you get that balance.”

"Oui, chef." The bowl is taken away to be fixed and Zach moves on the next container.

“Now the Brie.” This one, Zach scoops up a small taste of the whipped cheese and hands it to you after taking the other spoon away to toss in the sink specifically for tasting spoons.

Brie is a thing that has become a big fan favorite on the appetizer menu, and with various cheese trending in many ways, Zach and his staff have been having fun with it lately. This whipped brie is like a spread that will go on a toasted piece of bread with sliced fig, toasted walnuts, and a drizzle of honey to make a delicious vegetarian bite tonight. The trouble is, when you taste it, it's slightly flat.

Frowning, Zach tastes it several times, discarding the spoon and grabbing another before reaching for the pepper grinder. “Just trust me.” He cautions when you look at him like he’s got three heads.

"I trust you." You tell him, but watch him put a surprising amount of fresh cracked black pepper into the brie spread. Once he mixes it up again, he puts some on a new tasting spoon and holds it out to you. "Oh–" Your eyes light up. "Damn that is good."

“Now imagine it with the fig and honey.” He hums even as he reaches for the other ingredients to put together a bite to make sure it’s cohesive.

“You’re an evil genius,” you grin, practically giggling as he assembles the bite.

“Not just me.” He has to give credit to his cooks, they have ideas that he will use in a heartbeat, and give them the credit for.

“It’s like a mad scientist that lab in here sometimes,” you tell them all, still grinning. “And I mean that as the highest compliment.”

“Sometimes.” He chuckles in agreement and nods. “The pepper gives it the kick it needs.” He tells them.

“Oui, chef. Got it.” One of his prep cooks nods and makes off with the container to go fix the rest of the batch.

“Now the sweet chili.” Zach knows that is one of your favorites and he just hands you the last spoon. “Sweetheart?”

“You know what my answer is going to be.” You almost cackle with happiness as he simply hands over the unexpectedly delicious concoction. “It’s always more spice.”

He snorts. “Every day you were pregnant, I would swear you would eat a gallon of Thai chili sauce and swear it wasn’t hot enough.”

“It wasn’t, and I will die on that hill.” Both of your girls had you craving as much spicy food as you could handle, and they’ve gotten the nickname the Firecrackers because of it. One taste of the sauce, however, and you hum in momentary confusion. For once there is plenty enough spice, but the balance still isn’t quite right. It’s like something only dipped its toe in the pool instead of going for a swim. “I think…” you look at him curiously. “Ginger? It feels a little light on ginger.”

Zach glances at the bowl and then at you. “I will never challenge your expertise on chili sauce.” He teases and Marcus, the assistant front of house manager, comes bustling into the kitchen. “Zach, your special guests have arrived.” He tells the chef breathlessly.

“Special guests?” That has your eyebrow raises instantly. Your husband has a few celebrities and other guests that sometimes make special reservations, but he hadn’t told you about any for tonight.

“Yes.” He smirks and reaches for your hand. “Come on.” He urges, knowing that they will change the sauce to add the extra ginger like you had suggested.

“Who’s coming tonight?” The reporters, obviously. A few friends of the club that have become regulars over the years. Some of the bands’ family members were able to come but not too many. It’s going to be a party, sure, but mostly one that people are going to pay to come to and slap all over their social media.

“Some people for you.” The years had improved things and grandchildren had mellowed them even more. So Zach doesn’t have to worry about your reaction when he opens the door to the lounge area to reveal your mother and father waiting. He had called to ask them to come out weeks ago, keeping it a surprise since they had never actually seen you perform here at the theatre.

"Dad?" Your voice chokes in your throat when the door opens, and the first person you see is your father standing in the darkened club. When your mother – who had long considered Tulsa the largest city in the world and therefore the best – peaks out from behind him, you almost sob outright. "Mom?"

“Sweetheart!” Your mother’s eyes widen when she sees that you are wearing a dress that belonged to your grandmother, looking glamorous. Like a celebrity. “Zach said that you wouldn’t be upset at us coming?” The relationship has much improved but now she worries about overstepping.

"No!" No, oh my god." You rush forward to hug them both, feeling bubbling and nearly giggly. "I'm thrilled! I never thought I'd get you two up here for...for anything, really." Given your mother's history, you had never pressed her to come and see you perform. You had always been good about bringing your daughter down to Oklahoma to see her grandparents a few times a year. Now that there are two grandbabies it was going to be all the more important – but here they are. Right in your city.

“Oh good.” Tom chuckles as he wraps his arms around you and folds you into a tight hug. “I told you dear. Especially tonight. This is special for them both. We are so proud of you.” He murmurs in your ear before kissing your cheek and pulling back.

You would normally blame it on leftover hormones and wacky sleep schedule from the baby, but you know the tears that you fan away from your eyes are just because you're so happy to see them. "I can't believe you're actually here."

“We are excited to see you perform.” Your mother gushes. “I’ve heard you sing, of course, but this is different.” She follows the theatre’s Facebook page. That and her grand babies is the entire reason she got Facebook.

"Well I hope I don't fuck up now," you joke, squeezing them both in another hug. "How long are you in the city for? Please say it's a little while? Gracie's going to be so excited to see you."

“Uh, well,” Tom shuffles slightly. “Zach said we were welcomed to use the apartment here for the next week?” He looks back at your husband, his son-in-law. “If something’s come up, we can get a hotel, but we wanted to spend some time with the girls.”

"A whole week?" Another squeak of excitement bursts out of you and you're nodding emphatically before you can even think about the action. "Absolutely, yes. That's amazing. And we'll make sure we have Darrel and River over for at least one meal while you're here. I know he'll be glad to see you, too."

“It’s so nice that he found his place.” Your mother murmurs, smiling at you and then moving to give Zach a hug. She has been trying to make sure that he knows that she is completely happy with him as her son in law.

"We all sort of...settled." In unexpected ways, for some. Darrel never thought for a second that he'd be living in New York City or working in a theater, but he's the happiest he's ever been in his life. You and Zach got your dream and then some. The club is thriving, your friends are happy, and your kids have a little built-in family that's always looking after them. It's perfect.

“That’s perfect.” She smiles. “I brought a few things that his parents wanted me to bring.”

"He'll be so grateful." Just as you are, making you turn and bury yourself in your husband's side with a grateful sigh. "Now it's going to be a perfect party."

Zach grins and kisses your temple. “I thought you might like this surprise.” He admits with a small laugh.

"It might actually be my favorite of any surprise you've ever given me." You promise him, returning the show of affection with a kiss to his cheek. For your parents, you have nothing but smiles tonight. "I'm going to let my staff know what table you guys are at, okay? Absolutely anything you want tonight, they'll make sure you get it."

“Oh, we don’t—” even as she beams at the idea of special treatment, she tries to wave it away but Tom stops her.

“Thank you sweetie,” he grunts as he takes her hand. “We will be cheering you on. Don’t be surprised if your mother starts crying.”

"I'll try not to look directly at you too often, or else I'll cry too." But you do make a mental note to yourself, and as soon as you go backstage again you're going to ask the band about adding your parents' song to the set tonight. Love Me Tender is already something you perform regularly so it shouldn't be a problem.

Marcus comes back into the room to escort your parents to the table he has set up for them, giving them a prime table. Ready to get their first drinks and get the night started.

"You're such an incredible sweetheart." You hang on Zach for a second after you disappear again, ringing your arms around his neck and shuddering out the happiest of sighs. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

“I didn’t do anything more than suggest that you would love to have them come.” He promises. “Your parents jumped at the chance.” He chuckles. “Maybe we can convince them to move here. Be closer to the grandkids.” It’s something he would have never considered ten years ago, but everyone has changed and grown closer. True happiness has a tendency of changing hearts and minds,

"We can toss it out as an idea while they're here and see if they're even interested." But to you, it sounds wonderful. The natural next best step, like when your cousin had gotten engaged and started house hunting around Tulsa, so you had simply sold them your grandmother's house.

“There’s a building that Darrel has been eyeing.” Zach admits with a grin. “It would make a perfect apartment for them if they did want to move.”

"Are you guys talking about flipping again?" You raise one eyebrow skeptically. Every year or two the two of them start theorizing about starting up a side business flipping houses or apartments around Brooklyn but they haven't done it yet.

“Would you be mad?” He asks seriously. “I wouldn’t touch the main accounts for anything.”

"Of course I wouldn't be mad. In fact?" In fact, you're still so glad that they have become close friends that anytime they want to spend together is more than fine with you, even ten years later. "If it ends up bringing in a little extra money, there will be a couple of kids whose college funds could benefit. I think River might finally be pregnant. She was acting a little mysterious earlier. But in an excited way."

“You think?” His eyes widen and he knows Darrel would be the happiest man alive if she was. “Fingers crossed.”

"Fingers crossed." The kiss you have for him this time is a little longer but still not enough to smear your lipstick, and you straighten yourself out with a happy smile. "Alright, I gotta go talk to the band. I want to make sure we put my parents' song in the set tonight."

“Break a leg, baby.” He always wishes you well before a performance and tonight is no different.

"I love you!" Even a few hurried paces down the hall, you stop to whirl around and blow him a kiss.

“I love you too.” He promises, winking at you before he drifts back into the kitchen to triple check everything.

This party will be perfect. He knows it. It’s the culmination of everyone’s hard work and he knows the articles will bring in even more business. Everything has been perfect.

******

The after party, as it turns out, is more like what your staff parties back on the cruise ship used to be like. After saying goodnight to your special guests and shutting the place down, the band and a few members of the house staff head over to Rick and Cliff’s apartment to unwind and enjoy each other’s company until dawn. You know that the parents will never make it that long, but you and Zach aren’t going to miss a chance to spend down time with friends.

“I think that tonight was a success.” Zach grins, running off adrenaline and exuberance as he walks alongside you. Practically skipping as he thinks about the murmured praise.

"You skewed my way of thinking about it," you admit, giggling when he practically skips along beside you. "I only care that my parents enjoyed themselves, and they had a blast."

“Are you happy that I surprised you with that?” He asks, watching as you seem to float on air.

"Pretty damn close to ecstatic." Reaching out with one hand, you snag his and thread your fingers together. The streets of Brooklyn Heights are quiet at this hour but not abandoned, and an old man walking past chuckles to himself at the obvious affection between you.

“I didn’t tell you just in case they changed their minds.” He admits. “Since your mother doesn’t care for traveling.”

He was right to be cautious, but you're grateful he even thought to do such a wonderful thing for you. For your daughters. "The girls will never know what a miracle it is that their grandparents braved the big city to come and see them."

“I know.” He chuckles. “When Gracie was born, I swear your mom wanted you to go have her in Tulsa.”

"She definitely asked." A fact which you hadn't told him at the time, because you had just laughed it off on the phone with your Mom and started telling her about your fantastic doctor in the city. "Didn't pursue it or make a fuss, but just...tossed the idea out."

He snorts. “Oh I can imagine.” He laughs. “She would have wanted you to have a home birth. Maybe in your gram’s house.”

"Can you imagine barging in on my cousin like that?" It's such a ridiculous notion, and you take comfort in the fact that it never even became a discussion. That your mother has mellowed in the years since everything came to light.

“Excuse me, I know I sold you the house, but can I give birth in your living room?” Over the years Zach has perfected the impression of you mixed with your mother. He uses that voice now to make you laugh at the absurdity.

You snort, laughing as you walk together. "Yeah, that would not have gone over well. And I would not have been happy with a country birth."

“You like your hospital drugs.” He teases, remembering how you screamed for the epidural last time. “And I don’t fucking blame you.” He snorted. “I make big babies.”

"Thank god twins don't run in your family," you grumble, shooting him a pointed look.

“I know.” He grins and winks playfully. “Ready to try for that little brother the girls need?”

"You're really into baby number three, huh?" Not that you mind. Not really. Having been lucky enough to have few difficulties during the births of both of your girls, it isn't as daunting for you as it often is for other women.

“Baby, when you’re done, we’re done.” He promises you seriously. “If our two girls are it, I’m gonna be the happiest girl dad ever.”

"I'm honestly not sure," you admit, and squeeze his hand gently as you turn the corner toward your destination. It's just another block away. "I've been focused on making sure the girls are good and making sure this party happens. I haven't really thought about the next thing down the road."

“Then we stay safe until you have a chance to think about it and if you’re done….” He squeezes your hand gently. “I’ll go get the snip.”

"We'll see." The sound of a third does make you smile, though, and you lean against his side. "We'll see."

He hums, knowing that means that you will want another baby in about a year. “Yes, we will.”

"That hum was knowing." And even as you raise an eyebrow at him, you know he knows. That he can read you like an open book. That from your soul to his, all the most wonderful things in the world are possible.

“That you’re going to be begging for another baby within a year?” He teases. “Yeah, baby, I know.”

"Am not." But you pout to cover the laugh that tells him you know he's right.

He chuckles and drags you closer for a kiss. “So you think that River is pregnant?” He hums. “Tell you what, if she announces it tonight, I’ll make sure I remind you how much fun trying for a baby is.”

"That is a deal." You agree happily, leaning into one – two – more kisses. "And she definitely is. Darry looked like he was floating on air tonight."

“Think that’s why she was looking for him earlier?” Zach asks, knowing how excited you were to tell him both times you figured out you were pregnant.

"Absolutely." At the bottom floor of the apartment building, you steal one more kiss and beam a smile right at Zach. "It's so hard to keep that kind of thin a secret once you find out."

“Then let’s go celebrate with our friends, my love.” He hums and smiles at you. “They deserve to be parents.”

"They deserve all the good things." All your friends do. You all work hard and give your all to everything in life. It's only fair that you should get as much happiness in return.

“Yes they do.” He couldn’t agree more and it shouldn’t be surprising that he has become such good friends with Darrel, but it’s a wonderful outcome.

You're the last arrivals because you insisted on closing down the club yourselves, and the first thing that happens when you walk into the apartment is both you and Zach have drinks thrust into your hands.

“What is this, a celebration?” Zach demands, holding up his glass. “All of you made me proud tonight. Be damn proud of yourselves!”

That elicits a cheer from the group, and various waves of laughter afterward at how in unison the cheer was. "Seriously, guys." You hold up the beer that was handed to you, pausing to be grateful for a moment that you decided to pump and dump tonight. There's plenty of milk at home. "Thank you. From the bottom of our hearts. It's been ten amazing years and we look forward to many, many more."

River clears her throat and smiles. “This wouldn’t be possible without your vision. Any of this.”

"We have a big, beautiful, shared vision." You contend, smiling at your friend first and then the rest of the group. "A shared vision in a big, fabulous family."

“Speak of family.” She hums, Darrel grins as he steps closer to his wife and wraps his arm around her waist to drag her close. “We have an announcement. I hope no one minds.”

There are murmurs, a ripple of smiles moving through the group, and you step back happily. “The floor is yours,” you tell them, practically ready to shout with happiness for your friends. You were absolutely right.

River chokes up, watery, happy tears streaming down her face. “I found out today that Darrel and I are expecting our first of hopefully many children.” Everyone here knows they had been struggling with conceiving, so this is a happy miracle for them.

The absolute screaming cheer that goes up is louder than anything previous, and there are sure to be noise complaints from the people upstairs but no one gives a shit. You practically skip forward go wrap your arms around them both, happy tears pricking at your eyes. “I knew it?” You laugh tearfully. “Congratulations you guys.”

“Well, you’re going to be an auntie!” She huffs, tears happily streaming down her face. “Our little ones will be able to play together after all.”

“You’re going to be as amazing a mom as you already are an auntie to Gracie and Jess.” River has been there through thick and thin for your girls, and you could not be more grateful. It will be a privilege to be able to return the favor.

“I cannot wait to have the aches and pains.” She admits with a laugh as Zach moves to shake Darrel’s hand in congratulations. “You’ll have to go get pedicures with me.”

"Absolutely." Having shared with her that pedicures were one of your true pleasures during your pregnancies – mostly for the foot massage – you are more than willing to share that experience. "You're going to be so grateful to sit for as long as you can."

“I love you.” She is tearing up again, hugging you tight before pulling away. “Now, we just need to celebrate!” She picks up her glass of ginger ale.

"If there is one thing we're very good at," you hum, looking around at the group – the family – you've assembled. "It's having a damn good time."

The party quickly kicks into full swing, several of the cooks had already started preparing more food while at work. In a tradition that was born from the cruise ship, and had quickly become a favorite of all the after party guests.

These are the nights that plans are made. That plots get hatched. And in cases like yours and Zach's? The nights that dreams come true. There's no way of knowing what will happen tonight or happen at any party in the future. The only thing you do know is that you want to be there for every second of this family's future.

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

ItSotN: @greenwitchfromthewoods @copperhalfcent @ariavitiellos @spishsstuff @76bookworm76

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Zach Wellison #Zach Wellison x female reader #Zach Wellison x you #Zach Wellison x f!reader #Brothers & Sisters #Shane Dio Morrissey #Shane Dio Morrissey x female OC #NYPD Blue #soulmate au #Soulmate Sunday #cruise ship au

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mybelovedsylus · 12 hours ago

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Okay so I just wanted to write some fluffy fluff. I didn't proofread in the slightest so please forgive me. And if you enjoy it and want to stick around I would love to have ya - also feel free to message me any little ideas you'd like to see. I'm still newer to the game so pardon anything that doesn't feel true to the lore- I'm still playing through it all. I'm sure there will be more drabbles to come. Lastly, the more is just covering a poll I was physically unable to remove via my iPad so pls ignore that. Okay now enjoy.

~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~~~~~~~~☆~~~

He was pissed. No pissed wasn’t even a word that could fully encompass the emotional turmoil raging through his veins. His fists clenched and unclenched over and over again, his evol pulsing in time with it. The excess energy was just ratcheting higher as the moments passed and the front door remained firmly shut. You were supposed to be back from the mission over two hours ago, and somehow you had also lost the tail he assigned to you. As the thought filtered through his mind he looked sharply to the left to throw a glare at Mephisto. What was the point of him if he couldn’t handle the most important mission he was assigned? In fact he was contemplating all the slow, painful ways that he could deconstruct said crow the door slammed open. His head whipped around to catch you stumbling through the door, and he was out of the seat in an instant. Times like this the evol came in handy as he was suddenly by your side, slipping his arms under you and hoisting you into a bridal carry.

“Why do you insist on testing Mephisto?”

“I come back black and blue and you’re more concerned with the surveillance experiment you call a pet,” you groan out, arms holding your middle. You swear at the sign of your discomfort Sylus’ own arms tighten to hold you closer to his body. You can also feel the cool caress of his evol as it slowly takes inventory around your body.

“I figure you would worry more if I started with the obvious concern about you,” he responded in a gruff whisper. Suddenly you wanted to lean into the nickname you were given, and curl up further into the warmth his body was giving off. He rewarded you with his plush mattress, but then tortured you pulling your legs out so you were laying flat on your back.

“What kind of sadist are you?”

“Usually you love it when I get you on your back,” he managed a slightly seductive tone on top of the obvious concern bleeding through. You groaned at that, attempting to roll away from him and burrow into the safe haven of the covers. Sylus simply tsk’d at you, dragging you back to the edge of the bed.

“Not so fast kitten, there are clearly some things that need to be addressed before I allow you the reprieve of sleep.”

“Fine, just get it over with,” you mutter, throwing your arm over your eyes to block out even the muted bit of light coming through. You can hear the soft laugh Sylus lets out at your dramatics. However, not looking meant there was no preparation for the sting of antiseptic in open wounds. My eyes flew open and I sat up quickly, a hairsbreadth away from hitting Sylus in the nose with my forehead.

“Holy fuck, warning?” You gasped out debating how far you would get with slapping the shit out of him- or at least slapping the smirk off his face.

“You told me to get it over with, figured I wouldn’t bore you with the details darling,” he responded with an overly innocent grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. He brushed some of the hair of your forehead gently, and he pulled at the skin underneath assessing the cut that was dripping blood into your brow. That was quick to cause his smile to falter quickly, concern etching into the wrinkles forming along his forehead.

“You know you could have had backup if you wouldn’t be so adamant on shaking the crow,” he tells her, moving to clean the wound and place small bandaids to hold the cut together. The proximity to him dulled the sting. As he worked, she got to take in Sylus up close, the way he bit his lip as he focused, the way his eyes softened as he moved more hair out of your eyes, and how his eyes seemed to glow (without help of the aether) as his gaze dropped to hers. There was a hesitation, his hands coming up to cup your face before he leaned down and stole a quick, soft kiss. He pulled back slowly before leaning back in, a bruising kiss this time as his hand moved to tangle in your hair. His hand grazed against a lump forming on the back of your skull and you groaned.

“Right, not the time. You’ve just had me worried sick all night love.”

“But I got your intel,” I smiled sweetly at him, pulling him in for another kiss. Much softer than the one he stole just now, one that reassured him that I was right here, worse for wear but still here.

“It's a good thing I already have white hair.”

#lads sylus #lads #love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus love and deepspace #love and deepsace fluff #lads fic #lads fanfic #fluffy drabble #sylus is my main obs

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s3thwrit3sstuff · 14 hours ago

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❝ The reason I survived in hell - was for you, it was not for me. ❞

Ω!reader x α!jeong-hyun | omegaverse AU, fluff, NSFW | sub. bttm. reader (AFAB) | reader has had top surgery and bottom growth | wc: 14k

warnings: mentions of dog fights, CA, graphic description of violence, power imbalance, yandere tendencies, mentions of drugs, stalking, mentions of torture, omegaverse element (heat/rut)

masterlist: how you met (mob yanderes) : pt. 1 (K.JH); pt. 2 (K, JH); pt.3 (K. JH)

authors note: first patreon post, gah! it's a big boy, but i truly did have so much fun writing this! once again, thank you so much for your support and i hope you enjoy this~

*songs on repeat: nervous by the neighbourhood, Guilty by Taemin, Darwinism by Halsey

* YN is described as wearing more fem. clothing as he performs.

Her tongue is the only comfort he knows. Those hazel eyes, dark and light all the same, glimmering as she nosed at the open scar on his arms. It stings — no, it aches. That big mouth with its sharp yellow teeth had grabbed onto his right hand and snapped tightly around it. He was sure his bones would shatter if he weren’t so old. His shoulders pulse to a senseless rhythm as she continues to drag her tongue across his open wounds.

Even when her mouth was the same as the monster's and her teeth were yellow and sharp — she comforted him with her warm belly and even warmer milk, giving him glimpses of a life he had long forgotten. Her mewling pups crowd around him, still too young to turn into monsters themselves. Too small and too fuzzy. Their teeth were more needle-like as they nipped and whimpered. Their muddy multicoloured coats would be scarred and torn apart one day but not today.

The boy turns his head, his neck too frozen and stiff from pain whinges, so he sucks in a sharp breath. Mama pauses, her wet nose pressing to his cheek as she sniffed. The scrap on his cheek made her push a gentle kiss as she adjusted her posture, now lying down around his head in a crescent shape. It must be nice to have that fur coat, he thought as he reached forward to weakly grasp at her paw.

She lets him, merely huffing as she turns her attention back to the bite on his arm. He’s laid on his side, the sweat and blood making dirt stick to him uncomfortably onto his naked body. The boy hears footsteps from the door, heavy boots slapping on the concrete while boisterous laughter booms. Mama growls low, her cropped ears pressing back while her entire body stiffens. The little ones, two balls of fur, stumble back with their eyes trained on the door. The shadows that move underneath it frighten them enough to have them rush to the boy. He grunts for a moment, pushing through the pain and sluggish movement to wrap an arm around them and pull them close to his neck and chest. He’s scared too. It was too open in this cage and he knew that even if he tried to fight, his wounds and the drugs that they’d given him, would make him too slow.

The last time he had bared his teeth, the men had yelled at him. Angry as they spit out those harsh words, the heavy rings on their fingers splitting open his skin when they backhanded him. The little ones wouldn’t be able to take those blows. But the men wouldn’t care — they didn’t. The last time one had tried, Mama had lost it. She’d been whimpering as she nosed and licked at its cold body. The men had taken it away and Mama waited, and waited, and waited.

The boy lets them nip and chew on his thumb while Mama watches the door when it opens he’d take the men head-on and keep them safe. Even if he’d black out from the pain or if they’d use the metal pipes and slam him down into the dirt, screaming at his face and mockingly calling him a mutt. The boy would be scared, downright terrified when that happens, as he thinks about the potential outcomes of fighting back he shudders in place — but the little ones would be more terrified, wouldn’t they?

He was small, but they were smaller. He was weak, but they were weaker.

The boy would protect them. He loved them too much to let them be taken away from him. They were the only thing that gave him comfort; Mama and them. He knows in a way, it’s futile. Mama’s had little ones before, they weren’t little anymore. They’d gotten big and their teeth were sharp, but the boy didn’t fault them for snapping their jaws around his limbs because he saw himself looking into their eyes.

That fear wouldn’t go away even when they were all big now with rippling muscles that chased him and blunt claws that dug into his chest. They were still little ones in there, somewhere, whimpering for a sliver of kindness as the men turned them into monsters.

Jeong-Hyun wheezes softly as the door opens. The little one's yelp and Mama growls. He wills his body to move even when it screams at him to stay stiff. The boy ignores it, crouching ahead of the puppies while he bares his teeth at the tall men. They shove each other, snickering as they reach for the lock on the cage and rhythmically tap the metal pipe onto their palms. He licks the front of his teeth, nostrils flaring as his broken nails drag across the concrete — the scraping sensation being felt in his teeth. His tense posture makes warm blood trail out from his open wounds as his veins pulse with fear.

The cage door swings open.

Amid the chaos around in this tight hallway and violent attackers, all he can zone in on is the sight of you running down the hallway and disappearing as you turn the corner. Confusion riddles his face for a split second — until a man rushes at him and slams him into the wall. These backstreet gangsters Beokseom hired were just like that asshole. They were teeth gratingly annoying as they tried to overwhelm him like a bunch of ants, swinging their arms around while they held the legs of the wooden stool or whatever else they could grab as a weapon.

Every time Jeong-Hyun gripped his knife, he could see the apprehension in the clench of their jaw. He could read them like an open book. They were scared to die but wouldn’t do anything to win this fight. They were the appetizers in the dog fights — little dogs who’d bark up a storm when a big dog was in the ring and run when it retaliated with the bone-shaking snap of their jaws.

Jeong-Hyun glances at the man holding onto his stomach, his eyes squeezed shut like a bitch. At that moment, a wooden stool leg smashes on his head and Joeng-Hyun’s vision tints with viscous red. He licks his lips at the metallic taste, raising his hand and stabbing it right into the man’s back. When he fights back, Jeong-Hyun can feel the way his muscles contract around the blade — when Jeong-Hyun pulls it out, he continues to hold him to the wall.

So Jeong-Hyun rewards his valiant sacrifice. He stabs him again and this time, his grip loosens. Jeong-Hyun grabs at his face, pulling his body upwards just as someone swings down a cleaver. It gets stuck in the man’s shoulder, deep in the bone and spurting blood like a fountain. It catches the attacker off guard, he whispers a name and Jeong-Hyun tilts his head at the boy’s expression. So young, so full of life — Beokseom was a piece of work hiring a teenager to be his muscle. He wasn’t a gangster, he was a meat shield.

Jeong-Hyun shoves the body away and it slams into the boy, he stumbles backwards and gets pinned to the floor by the warm corpse. More bodies drop next to him, necks slashed wide open or eyes missing — Jeong-Hyun had no mercy for the rest of the men. When they swung at him, his frightening face would morph into pure excitement. When they did land a hit, it was as if Jeong-Hyun couldn’t even feel the pain.

He was a monster with one goal in mind. To destroy everyone who stood in his path. Just as he was instructed to.

When they were kids, she thought the sun itself had blessed him. His hazel eyes were brighter than hers, glowing under the light while he cooed on his play mat. She’d given him his name, Jeong-Hyun; Peaceful, gentle, virtuous, worthy. It mirrored her name in a way. Seo-Yun — a gentle, prosperous omen.

As she walked through the club’s backdoor, her nose curling at the scent of seafood and burned broth, and as her heels clicked on the blood-splattered floors of Beokseom’s hallways she thought their names still reflected them. Even if crooked or twisted from the nature of their world — Jeong-Hyun was ever so peaceful as he leaned against the glass table of Oh Beokseom’s office.

Behind her, following her the whole way down, were her men and women in crisp white button-ups and black jackets while their hands hovered over their belts. Compared to the mess on the floor with their different patterns of clothes and shitty tattoos that were torn apart, her muscles were leagues above. A united front, a proper pack, unlike these mutts.

“I guess dying discretely was too much for Mr Oh,” she nudges the back of his shattered head with the toe end of her shoes. Jeong-Hyun breathes harshly through his nose, jaw unclenching as she places a hand on his shoulder. Comfort was a foreign concept to Jeong-Hyun, it was something completely unfamiliar to him while he was growing up. It took a lot of work for Seo-Yun to ease him down with just a reassuring touch — she’d never given up on him and for that he was grateful.

He shows her your blade, and Seo-Yun pinches her brows together.

The carnage around her reveals the story. Oh Beokseom could’ve died a simple, lacklustre, death but he’d fought back and brandished Jeong-Hyun’s courting gift as a way to…Seo-Yun glances at the brain smeared on the floor. He was a peacock, posturing and strutting around amongst the other underground beasts as if he were one of them; but birds had hollow bones and Beokseom was no bird of prey. He sang his songs too loudly and fluttered his fan of feathers to any teenage girl who wanted to brag about having a ‘gangster’ boyfriend.

It was a shame. He was a decent businessman, and the girls here were good at being Seo-Yun’s ears and eyes. If he were more cunning, the blade would’ve been left alone and so would you. If he were smart, he would’ve used you as a snake hidden amongst flowers — you were desperate, weren’t you?

You must be if you willingly worked here. Beokseom should’ve used that to his advantage rather than assume Jeong-Hyun would frolic so freely with you under his arm.

“You got angry and smashed his head open,” she signed as she spoke, noting the twitch of pain in his cheek as blood trailed down his fingertips. “Then got into a fight by yourself. That was reckless,” she bent her right hand slightly and tapped her chest with the tip of her fingers at which he turned his head away with his nose in the air. A haughty sniff earned him a pointed squint from Seo-Yun.

“You messaged me and said he was here as well. Where’s your singer?”

It was right there, the blue and white building with the words ‘POLICE DEPARTMENT’ written across the board. Your feet had carried you here, your heart pumping wildly in your chest as you leaned against the rough walls of the alleyway. Shuddering breaths rack through you as you stare at the policemen walking up the steps with their smiles free of trouble. With every blink you see that man in the hallway, that monster, with the blade he’d gifted you in his hands as he struck down everyone around him. That gentle smile, that violent scene.

You brace your hands on your knees, tilting forward and catching yourself with a thud of your shoulder against the wall. Your back is soaked, the cafe t-shirt sticking to your back as you find yourself kneeling on the ground and spitting onto the ground in an attempt to control the sudden flux of saliva. You wrap an arm around your stomach and will yourself to not upset it further. The meagre breakfast you had been the only meal, between getting kicked out of your only house to now seeing —

You cover your mouth and nose, your eyes watering. A concerned murmur penetrates your silent effort to keep your food in your stomach, and a patrol officer kneels before you.

“Are you alright?” Her eyes were concerned, lips pursed as she placed a hand on your shoulder. You dropped the hand from your face, her neon green vest drawing you into a trance as her kind face patiently waited for you to speak. Then, behind her, a long set of legs appeared. You recognised him from the club. He comes by with an entourage of policemen who are well past their prime but not their usefulness.

He liked to grope you while you sat on his lap, bouncing you on that skinny knee and cussing that omega bitches were so easy to impress in a drunken slur. You see recognition in his eyes and without thinking, you spring away, scrambling backwards onto your ass then up onto your feet.

“Sir, are you alright?” She staggers to her feet as well, widening her arms in a display of openness, but you conjure it as a threat, a trap.

The police weren’t going to help. You were naive to think that they would when they already turn a blind eye to the shady shipments of simple seafood restaurants in exchange for ‘free’ participation in the trade.

Each step added more and more weight onto your weary shoulders. For a while, you wandered around aimlessly and thoughtlessly, trying to make sense of what you had just witnessed and wondering how your life had somehow come to this. A shitty part-time job at a cafe with a stingy boss who’d complain about the stretched-out collar of your shirt, seeing your shady boss’ head splattered across the ground like a smashed open watermelon and now effectively homeless because there was no way in hell you’d run back to the club. The scent of blood stuck onto you, like the dampness of your sweat, and you made a startling discovery.

A spot of red had found itself on the top of your shoes.

The sound of people flooding in, their casual conversations and the cadence of their footsteps, startles you enough to raise your head. The sky was almost completely dark now, the street lamps and shop lights illuminating your path. Couples walk past you, offering you a glance of curiosity and pity. You wrap your arms around yourself and reach to check if you have anything on your face — spit or blood. Your hands were clean but they were still shaking. The street was so open, that you take a step to safety but go rigid. Ha-Joon had kicked you out. Your things were back in that damned changing room. The realization causes your shoulders to slump and you stop in place, breathing a rattling sigh.

You had nowhere to go. All that hard work, those sacrifices you made to claw your way through the mud in hopes of living a comfortable life and you found yourself pulled into the earth. Just work hard, people have told you, and then everything will be more or less smooth sailing. Maybe it was your fault, after all, that advice didn’t apply to getting your hands dirty with gangsters, did it? Even if you didn’t do anything bad, even if you told yourself you were desperate, was it worth it in the end?

You despised your father for taking these predatory loans, maybe you were his son and now you’re just doomed to repeat his mistakes.

How could you be so stupid?

That spot of blood mocks you, coming back to life as tears fill your eyes and blur your vision. You shouldn’t cry, you shouldn’t — not in a public street when you already look this frazzled.

A sniffing snout approaches the blood stain and you blink in confusion at the dog’s muddy multicoloured coat and white snout. Its stubby tail wagged, its butt moving with the motion as it lifted its head and smiled at you. He wore a collar with a loose leash attached, and as you trace it you meet with a masked face.

But those eyes were Jeong-Hyun’s. That milky left and that ambrosia-coloured right— you’re pinned in place. Should you run or scream? You couldn’t, frozen in suspension as he took one step, then another. Questions buzz through your head, a hive of confusion, but the absence of fear makes a shiver run down your spine. The alpha pauses before he gets too close while his dog continues its mission to get to know you better.

Your pupils are trembling as he connects your gazes. Peeking from his mask was gauze stuck to his cheek, the bulk under his jacket wasn’t due to a shoulder strap it was instead the sling his arm was in. The question of how he found you flash through your brain. You’d made good progress in running away from the fiasco but as the dog’s wet nose presses to your twitching fingers, you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d used its nose to seek you out. Leisurely walking the streets, an item of yours in his pockets, following his furry friend's guidance.

Or was it more sinister? Did the patrol cop tell you he’d bumped into you or were the CCTV’s under his control?

Ha-Joon had told you their strength but when it was simply word of mouth, you couldn’t quite fathom it. Now that you’d seen what he could do with his boot, knife, and some elbow grease — you don’t doubt his movie-like influence.

Something inside of you preens at this. Jeong-Hyun was showing off, it simply made sense to the caveman in your brain. This alpha had been courting you and his gorish display was simply his way of appealing to this instinctual part of you. Your inner omega finds this all endearing as it all but shows its soft underbelly and flicks its tail under Jeong-Hyun’s nose. It’s equal parts ridiculous and shameful, however, it reminds you of a trump card you hold.

“You’re not going to hurt me, are you?” Jeong-Hyun’s eyebrows instantly raise and he shakes his head. He seemed shocked, genuinely shocked, that you would even think that. You play the part of an omega in distress — it didn’t take much acting considering you were one — and bring your shoulders up, hands cupping your elbows as you tilt your head down.

Jeong-Hyun reaches forward, gently placing a hand over yours to tap at it. He gestures to a cafe. You hesitantly follow, sitting on the outdoor chair and gasping softly as his dog places his head on your lap. His tail swept the floor as he pleaded to you with those gentle eyes. You gave him a few head pats, scratching behind his ears as Jeong-Hyun fished for his phone. He types into his phone as you let the sweet dog occupy your attention, when he’s done, he slides the phone to you.

[ Didn’t mean to scare ]

[ Was trying to keep u safe ]

[ Ur boss trouble he follows u home ]

[ My mistake I wanted to keep u safe ]

The more you read the more confused you got. Your boss had stalked you because Jeong-Hyun had gifted you things and given you attention, and Jeong-Hyun found an issue with it. This was earning him more brownie points from your omega — that dumb bitch — and you take a glance at him.

He was waiting for your response with his eyes gentle, and beguiling. Gone were the traces of the beast in the hallway slicing down men like there were nothing more than blades of grass. He was a nervous schoolgirl again, just like he was the first night you met.

“My boss was stalking me?” You try not to make your voice tremble, and you succeed. He nods, reaching for his phone again. Your fingers brush against his own when you pass it to him, and you swear you see the tips of his ears turn bright red. It takes everything in you not to snort at the sight.

[ His people follow u ]

[ Take ur knife ]

[ Asshole. ]

A corner of your lips twitch, tugging your lip into a half-grin that Jeong-Hyun silently imprints into his mind. Despite the lack of details, he paints the picture for you; your boss had his grievances with Jeong-Hyun — the memory of him eating your food while he told you about their rudeness replays in your mind though his head is now just a bouquet of bone shards, gore, and his popped-out eye dangling below his chin — and strikes at the chance to get back at him through you because he’d shown his interest in you.

You’d become homeless and scarred for life because your dumbass boss decided to use you because he felt disrespected.

“Yeah, he is an asshole,” you mutter disdainfully. “Oh well, was,” you carefully hand Jeong-Hyun his phone again and instantly give the poor dog a few more ear scratches when he paws at your knees.

“I’ll have to look for a new job.” Your eyes feel heavy, and you squint to focus as you fight the exhaustion of today’s events. You don’t even know why you’re telling him this. As you gently squeeze at his dog’s cute cheeks, you relax as it eagerly accepts your affections.

“I’ll have to look for a new house.”

Jeong-Hyun slides his phone across the table.

[ I can keep u safe ]

[ If u let me ]

[ U don’t have to work ]

[ My house is ur house ]

Well, he certainly didn’t beat around the bush. You shake your head and even with the mask on his face, you can tell he’s frowning. His eyebrows furrowing as he huffs at your stubbornness. Under the table, he scuffs the front part of his boots on the ground. Short off stomping his feet like a petulant child. You would get a headache from these two sides of him — spectrums would make more sense. Jeong-Hyun breathes sharply through his nose and then tilts his head, his downward-facing lashes fluttering. When you feel a paw place itself on your knee, you’re staring at the same expression on his dog.

You purse your lips, trying not to laugh as you lean down to kiss the needy thing on his head. A glimmer of his collar grabs your attention and you take a second to read his name.

“Hwan?” he perks up at the name. “Hwannie-ya” you coo sweetly. He gives a soft, gruff reply, surging upward to place his paws on your lap and lick at your face. His tail hits the table legs and you laugh softly at his affections.

“I’m not going to live in your house, Mr. Kim. " He jerked his head back and scrunched his face.

This time he shows you his phone screen.

[ Jeong-Hyun not Mr Kim ]

[ >:C ]

You smile at him this time. A proper one, with a sliver of teeth showing behind those beckoning lips. Your angelic voice utters his name, and it’s like it’s the first time he’s heard sound.

“Jeong-Hyun.”

He sinks into the chair, glancing away and unintentionally gives you a clear view of his good ear. Bright red, flushed right to the tip as he gave a curt nod.

When Ha-Joon walks into his home, he nearly drops his bass in shock. There, in the living room, was a dog with its ears pointed forward and its eyes trained on him. It stood in front of the guest room door, a low rumbling noise escaping it as it stalked forward.

The big dog was horrifying enough but on the couch was one of the most feared mobsters in the game; Kim Jeong-Hyun was idly flicking through his TV with his leather jacket draped across the back of the seat and his boots thrown off haphazardly at the hallway Ha-Joon wanted to disappear in.

Jeong-Hyun glanced over at Ha-Joon then gestured to the couch with nothing more than a jerk of his head. The bassist trembled, placed his bass down, and took a step forward. Hwan gives a low bark and Ha-Joon flinches, stiffening. Jeong-Hyun switches to a different channel, the volume is kept low but Ha-Joon recognizes the news anchor on the screen. When Jeong-Hyun clicks his tongue in annoyance, Ha-Joon comically stumbles over his long legs to reach the couch.

God Jeong-Hyun was terrifying to look at. His face was mutilated and torn, skin stretched tight in some places, teeth exposed to the world his eye cloudy and most likely barely functional. It was a shame considering how the untouched parts of his face showed how handsome he could’ve been if it weren’t for his line of work. A rounded eye shape with a deep crease, strong eyebrows, a good nose shape and a strong jaw that he’s currently clenching the longer Ha-Joon stares.

He moves to sit on the couch but Jeong-Hyun curls his lip and he squeaks.

The alpha nods in front of him and Ha-Joon’s knees knock onto the carpet. He hears soft clinking in the kitchen and when he dares to sneak a glance, Ha-Joon sees a woman he swore had walked straight out of some graphic novel; her slanted eyes and full lips, her brows looked like they were in a perpetual state of worry which made her look kinder than the smile on her face showed.

“Ha-Joon, right?” Seo-Yun was holding a mug of coffee in her arm. She walked towards him, sitting on the armrest of the couch and delicately crossing her legs. Ha-Joon had heard tales of the Kim siblings from Hell. But in all those gorey stories, Jeong-Hyun’s name was much more prominent compared to his sisters. Jeong-Hyun tearing someone's neck apart, crushing someone’s ankles under his boot, sicking his dogs onto a wriggling human torso — Seo-Yun had never enacted such violence. The only thing he’d heard about her was the fact that she had a great rack and that she used to be some gangster's favourite lay before she somehow stole his little empire from him. It made Ha-Joon’s heart race just wondering what she could do to him.

“I’ll keep this simple. With Beokseom gone, his businesses naturally fall to us.”

Naturally, what a strange choice of words. If Ha-Joon were braver he would have laughed. But he isn’t so he doesn’t. He wonders though if his boss had been warned or had been

She says your name and Ha-Joon lifts his head. Hwan snaps his teeth next to his ear, making him yelp as he curls over to protect his head. He can feel the dog’s breath on his skin as it begins to growl lowly.

“We have to protect our own and (Y/N)’s in a tight spot, so be a gentleman and give him your guest room, won’t you?”

When he doesn’t answer her, Jeong-Hyun stands up and grabs his wavy locks, pulling him up until his back is arched uncomfortably and he’s choking on his spit from the sudden force.

Seo-Yun takes a sip of her coffee, waiting for him to speak.

“Yuh - Yeah, yes, ma’am! I understand!”

Jeong-Hyun pulls his hair by his roots and Ha-Joon’s eyes fill with tears. When he makes a jerk motion to lift his arms, the dog snaps his jaws again and he simply sobs pitifully.

“My brother’s telling you to be quiet, (Y/N)’s had a rough night. He needs his rest.”

There’s a steady murmur of conversations throughout the room followed by the gentle clinks of glasses tinkling over the smooth laughter of the pretty omegas lounging next to tattooed men; their touches less than innocent, stroking and groping over his clothes in the safety of the dim lighting.

The stage light makes those touches pause for a moment, though the men are not disappointed by it when they land their gaze on you. You were like a pearl glimmering on the stage, glossy lips pouted as you hummed a tune, the band behind you following your lead. If you were nervous, you didn’t let it show. Despite all their eyes on you, you continued to sing on stage with that sultry, clear, voice. The teasing movements of your hips and waist and your teasing grin were inciting a few of the alphas in the crowd.

Further in the back, they gave you a sharp wolf whistle, earning a few cheers of agreement from the men around him. The girls lounging with them instantly glance at the table right in front of your stage, the one with only one currently occupied chair. His head twitches but he still faces you which makes the girls shift cautiously, now sharing looks.

“Work it, baby!” one man cheers as you twirl on stage. She shifts under his arm, internally sighing when he simply pulls her in closer. “You getting jealous or something?”

“No,” she giggles. “I’m just gonna get you some more drinks, so we can keep this party going all night long!” he slurs something about her just wanting him to spend more money on the club to get some cut out of it. Next to him, his buddy continues to holler and whistle at you. She sees Jeong-Hyun turn his head, his eye briefly shining like gold as he shoots daggers towards him.

It’s your touch that pulls him away from his violent plans. You place a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently as you move to stand behind him. Carefully, your fingers slide down his chest, brushing over his stomach as your cheek ghosts his own; you sing right into his ear. You’re so close he can hear the vibrations in your voice and that addicting scent that’s so undeniably yours. It was sweeter tonight, maybe it was the perfume you were wearing, but it made him inhale deeply.

Jeong-Hyun truly crumbles under your touch. All at once, any other thought simply floats away as you gently brush the tip of your nose to his cheek, stifling a chuckle as he clenches his fist on the table as if holding himself back from embracing you — he was.

That tumultuous night felt like years ago when it had only been a month.

A month of peace and for once, dare you say stability. When his jaw clenches, the whole club can hear the smile in your voice. It’s strange how easily you can ease him down from the violence that came to him as easily as breathing — all it took was a touch, a glance, a soothing melody from your lips. Jeong-Hyun turns to face you, taking in your coy expressions head-on so brazenly.

Ha-Joon watches this exchange from the stage, his eyes following you when you decide to pull away from Jeong-Hyun and return to your spot on stage. You were truly an idiot, courting a dangerous man like Jeong-Hyun just because he’d been nice to you — Ha-Joon couldn’t hide his disdain. Humiliation filled him as he remembered the night they’d come into his home and forced him to house you like he was some sort of slave they could just push around. It didn’t help that now, Jeong-Hyun or his men would casually hang around his front door to bring you here or there.

His neighbours — ones he made an effort to get to know now — ask him quietly if you were his ex-boyfriend, and if it was awkward for him to see his omega go out on dates with shady figures. Because that’s what it looks like for the average person, a silly petty romance plot. They had no clue how much blood stained the hands of the alpha that held onto your own.

“Ha-Joon,” the keyboardist hisses at him. He jerked his head up, noticing his fingers had stopped strumming along completely and the band was trying their hardest to cover up his mistake. You don’t glance back at him, crooning into the microphone and shrugging down the faux fur shoulder wrap to expose more of your skin.

It works easily enough. The cheers from these deplorable men drown them out, but that didn’t matter to you. You weren’t here to please them. You were here to perform for Jeong-Hyun.

The Kim siblings had taken ownership of Beokseom’s clubs. Irking more and more mobsters who felt like their little pieces of paradise were being taken away by them — still stubbornly refusing to bow their heads, holding out the inevitable. The workers, the ones who didn’t stupidly tie loyalties to Oh Beokseom, of these establishments didn’t find the transition too rough. It didn’t matter who they worked under, as long as they kept their heads down and worked quietly, they’d do just fine.

The ‘entertainers’ found themselves being spoiled rotten though. Seo-Yun always had a soft spot for them, guess it ran in the family. She didn’t raise a hand to them posted more security, and hired in-house doctors too.

Jeong-Hyun was less professional in his pampering of you. As you walk into your tiny changing room, you immediately pause on the threshold when you spot a gift box on your table. The note on it simply read;

For you

He didn’t sign off on them anymore. He didn’t need to. You smile, reaching for it to undo the delicate red ribbon. It was a bracelet, the silver links delicate but still noticeable from afar. It glimmered under the lights of your vanity, shining under your touch as you admired the details of it. The gifts he gave you had always been a bit eccentric — the knife and the dark flowers — but they’d always reflected him and his silent admiration for you.

Things to keep you safe with, things that reminded him of your beauty, things that you could wear to satiate that possessiveness alphas had within them. You felt bad for simply giving him things like food or cheesy little poems but when he looked at you — God, when he looked at you.

It was strange, how easily he made you draw your bridge down because he didn’t tear your walls down. He could’ve done so, he could’ve scaled it and laid waste to what you so dearly protected. He had the power, the money, the scary reputation.

But instead, he waited and waited. You set the pace, you made the first moves for affection. It was as if the monster in that hallway was just a mirage your brain was playing on you. Jeong-Hyun never stowed you away in his home, never chained you to his basement, he understood your need for independence.

You still worried about being stalked or used but you didn’t have to. Not when Jeong-Hyun had already made sure to have more capable people keep their eyes on you, to have Ha-Joon keep him updated about your comings and goings. You would be safe, Jeong-Hyun would make sure of it. When you’re ready, when you trust him enough to be completely his, he’ll be sure you won’t have to worry anymore.

You could just live, not survive. When — not if — you were his, he’ll be sure nobody could hurt you anymore. You were his treasure, his paradise — his angel.

A knock on your door makes you lift your head. Jeong-Hyun leans on the threshold of your open door, smiling. He walks in when you turn to face him, and the small room seems to amplify his broadness. He glances at the bracelet you’re holding and then connects your gazes.

“I like it,” you tell him in a soft voice as if sharing a secret. He visibly perks up and offers his hand, palm up. “You wanna put it on me?”

Of course, he does. He didn’t have to wear a sling anymore for his shoulder, he could finally do things without being restrained by that stupid contraption. His gloved hands always send shivers down your spine, the smooth leather brushing over your bare skin never failing to make heat rise to your face.

He drags his thumb down your arm to your wrist, his fingers curling around it as he adjusts the silver bracelet around it.

“Tomorrow, there’ll be a food market,” he hums in acknowledgement while he clasps the lobster hook to the chain. “I’m off the entire day. Would you like to come along with me?”

Jeong-Hyun admires your wrist for a moment then nods, signing the words for ‘work’ and ‘after’ to you that you squint your eyes at for a second.

“After work?” you mimic his movement unsurely, Jeong-Hyun smiles and repeats it slower so you can catch it while he mouths it.

“After work,” You repeat much more surely. You don’t know what his work entails. He could just be following Seo-Yun to meetings, or checking on their territories, or he could be stomping someone’s head open like a watermelon.

Jeong-Hyun leans in and gently places his forehead over yours. His eyes closed as the rounded tip of his nose brushed over your cheek and the tip of your own. Your lashes tremble and he simply eclipses that horrible memory with his sweetness. You feel something inside you wavering, succumbing to his affections as you press your lips to the corner of his, giggling when you hear his sharp inhale and his grip loosening and tightening unsurely around your hand.

Jeong-Hyun meets you at the entrance of the food market with no traces of red on him or gunpowder stuck to his gloves. Work must’ve gone smoothly then. You greet him and he reaches for your hand. When you walk together, he always puts you on his good side; not for vanity but for his comfort. Jeong-Hyun is always more alert in public when you’re by his side it ramps up.

“Jeong-Hyun, are you hungry?” you peek up at him, wondering what he’d choose from the array of food. You’d bought him food before, even made him food once or twice when you knew he’d be watching you perform that night. But he’s never said what his favourite foods were, happily chewing on whatever with his hand politely covering his mouth as he did.

He nodded, gently squeezing your hand as the both of you made your way deeper into the market. The stalls were bright and colourful, and the scent of the food was beginning to make Jeong-Hyun salivate. “I used to work here,” you said as you paused in front of a food stall, watching Jeong-Hyun lean forward and subtly sniff the air of the cooking broth. “Back in high school, I used to work at those noodle stalls to help with bills. I couldn’t eat noodles for months, the smell of the broth would stick to my hair and some dumbasses at school would joke that I was a walking noodle ad or something.”

Jeong-Hyun imagined you in a high school uniform, then himself, frowned when he imagined those dumbasses who teased you and promptly wondered what he’d do to them if we were there for you. Not that he could’ve done much back when he was that age, but he could fight. That would be enough.

He taps your shoulder, then asks if you still don’t enjoy noodles. You pout your lips forward, shrugging then make a so-so gesture. “It’s not my favourite, but I can stomach it. It’s cheap,” when the owner of the stall greets you, you momentarily turn away to return it. He focuses behind you, keeping a watchful eye as you ask her about the different types of flavours in the broth. Asking for two cups along with a few skewers of some fish cakes, a neutral food to start the date with.

But his question reminds you to ask the same of him. “Do you have a favourite food?” Jeong-Hyun thinks about it as he takes the paper cup of fish broth and fish cake, watching as you pay for the meal. His brow twitches but you pay it no mind. He could pout all he wants, but you won’t budge about it. The shine of the bracelet on your wrist at least softens his petulant expression.

He shrugs, pulling his mask down and taking a small bite of the fish cakes before he swiftly pulls the mask back up over his nose. He gently grabs the back of his left hand with the thumb and pointer finger of his right hand, careful not to spill the broth. Seo-Yeon had signed it before in front of you when she asked what sort of meat Jeong-Hyeon had gifted you.

Ah, that explains that one. You didn’t expect to get a box of expensive cuts of beef being delivered to Ha-Joon’s home that one day — guess that’s why.

“Just meat?” Jeong-Hyun nods excitedly.

“Beef? Chicken?” you chew on the fishcakes, and mumble out, “Fish?”

Jeong-Hyun just nods along, taking a moment to take another bite as you both continue to walk down. You feel a bit more confident now, already knowing which stalls to bring him to. Though eating meat would be pretty heavy, so you ask him if he likes anything sweet. You’re glad that he doesn’t mind these quiet dates, enjoying the park dates spending time with you in your changing room or that one time he simply sat in Ha-Joon’s car to send you home. That had been comical due to Ha-Joon’s flustered expression but Jeong-Hyun was delighted to be spending his time with you as he completely ignored Ha-Joon’s presence and focused on you.

“Is the mask annoying?” You ask as you both sit down on the plastic chairs, waiting for your meal to be sent to your table. Jeong-Hyun shakes his head, placing his elbows on the table.

Nah, I hate the stares more. Makes me….

He pauses, then continues.

ANNOYED.

You laugh at his deadpanned eyes and furrowed brows. He doesn’t ever show that his scars bothered him — despite living in a country where facial scars would completely shun you from society. Jeong-Hyun huffs, watching you scrunch up your nose as you call him silly in that fond tone.

“Maybe next time, we can go somewhere nobody will stare.”

Your house?

“Ha-Joon-Hyung’s house,” you corrected with a snort. “But no, maybe we could spend some time at your place?” Jeong-Hyun perks up, his cheeks lifting behind the mask but you could still see him smiling despite it.

When you finish eating the heavy meal, Jeong-Hyun and you set off to find some dessert to offset the savoury flavours. In the middle of your debate between eating bungeoppang or hotteok when you notice a familiar face in the crowd — Jeong-Hyun instantly catches onto your expression. He follows your line of sight and meets eyes with a stocky man with a toad-like face.

“Shit,” he turns to you as you take a few steps back. The toad man yells at you, uncrossing his arms when he notices you will make a run for it. “C’mon!”

“Hey! You motherfucker!”

Jeong-Hyun wondered if you’d forgotten who he was, and what he could do but truthfully you didn’t. But you knew that if he started murdering people in the middle of a food market, you knew it’d just cause him more trouble than he needed. Plus, even with his arm free from the sling, you see how his jaw clenches when he removes his jacket. Jeong-Hyun doesn’t particularly enjoy showing his pain, you imagine when everyone wants to kill him it makes him build these walls.

“Loan shark!” you yell at Jeong-Hyun, still holding onto his hand as you rush through the crowd, trying not to trip on your legs. “Loan sharks! These assholes!”

They’d been looking for you after you moved out, wondering where the hell had you run off to. Even if you keep paying them, you know they get satisfaction from intimidating you and wringing you dry for more money. A part of you would love to see these assholes eat dirt but Jeong-Hyun shouldn’t be hurt over this.

You’re too focused on getting out but Jeong-Hyun is keenly aware when he’s getting closed in on.

A few men rush in, shoving people away as they try to reach for him or you. Up ahead, there are a few others already waiting by the entrance of the market and Jeong-Hyun tugs you backwards, ignoring the gasp of shock you let out and instead slipping you into a tighter road, urging you to rush ahead with a short gruff shout. There are fewer people here, the alleyways are getting more isolated and claustrophobic. The rush of men behind you began getting filed into single lines and Jeong-Hyun skids to a stop to grab at a trash bag and flinging it towards them. They stumble over, falling on top of each other but it doesn’t slow them down.

Someone manages to get close though and Jeong-Hyun dodges him, bringing his fists up to protect his face. A big chunk of them were still struggling to get onto their feet but he focused on the ones right in front of him, blocking them off from you as he waited for them to get close. It was a risky move but considering his shoddy depth perception, he had to be sure his hits landed.

With you being there, it’s putting him more on edge. Behind his mask, his lips were curled as he pumped out his scent of pure anger into the air, the bitter tang making his opponents snarl defensively.

Seo-Yun always scolds him for getting into fights like these. He was strong but he had his blindspots, he’s gotten lucky all this while that he hadn’t gotten stabbed anywhere ‘important’ but if he kept testing his luck —

“Jeong-Hyun!”

You were way too brave for your own good. For a second, everything slowed down and Jeong-Hyun saw you step in front of him, holding a wooden plank in your hands that you bring down onto someone’s head. They crumple, blood spurting out from the top of his head as he crashes onto the ground. You rear it backwards again as someone lunges and Jeong-Hyun kicks them square in the chest to keep them away.

He should be angry, he realises that, but seeing you like that made a thrill rush through him. He glances back at you and you tighten your grip on your newfound weapon. If you were going to fight, you might as well fight together. You wished you had your knife in the moment, at least you’d be able to swing it around and scare the loan sharks off.

Jeong-Hyun elbows someone in the face, breaking his nose and grabbing onto the back of his jacket to spin and throw him towards the wall. You kept to his blind spots, showing your teeth as you continued to swing your weapon around. When the toad-faced man rushes into the alleyway, he doesn’t expect to see his goons clutching their bleeding heads and noses or fully passed out on the ground. He yells, grabbing them by their hair to shove them back into the fray.

You were beginning to get overwhelmed by them, snapping your teeth to deter them. The toad wrenches your wooden plank away and tries to put you into a headlock. Jeong-Hyun didn’t turn around to the sound of your pained yells — it was the pained yells of the toad man. You were biting down on his arm, elbowing and kicking your legs to get away from his grip.

Jeong-Hyun feels heat travelling south but he ignores it and instead comes to your aid. He grabs the man’s face, nearly digging his fingers into his forehead and cheeks and using his momentum to slam him into the wall. He groans weakly as he slides down the surface but the relief is temporary when he hears the yells for backup. You grab his gloved hands and tug him away, urging him to hurry, but he’s stunned.

You’re smiling at him. You look frazzled and a bit roughed up but no bruises were visible, but you were adrenaline-fuelled. Jeong-Hyun wanted to gather you in his arms and take your breath away. But you needed to get to safety first. There aren’t a lot of shops further down this path. So while they were still distracted, Jeong-Hyun grabbed your wrist and booked it.

He could feel his breath suffocating him as he dashed down the tight corners. Behind him, the most melodic sound bubbled up. You were laughing breathlessly, your hair bouncing with every harsh step and he could see blood stain your lips. He smiles underneath his mask, refocusing on getting away safely.

He spots a blue glow on the pavement ground and notices the half-open shutter door. He skids to a stop and urges you to get inside, he glares as he hears the angry yells and rushed footsteps so he quickly slides under the shutter door. Jeong-Hyun hears the sounds of water first, then the soft gasp of wonderment from you. You’re staring into a fish tank, wiping away the sweat from your neck as you catch your breath. They’re a colourful bunch of small fishes, placed onto metal shelves with the constant noise of the water filter and disturbed water barely muffling the noise of the buzzing LED lights.

It’s cold here, but you’re still sweating, and he can feel your warmth as he draws close. That valley of flowers had a tonal shift. His nose twitched, and he came closer, hovering over your shoulder and pulling his mask down, thinking that he must be imagining things. Your hand gently reaches over your shoulder and curls under his chin while you still face forward at the tanks. You touch so casually, completely undeterred by him looming over your shoulder.

“That one is pretty,” He looks at the ribbon-finned fish you’re pointing at. It had iridescent scales, its fins full and flared as it swam close to your finger. It hits him the moment he registers exactly why your scent was burning — it wasn’t an early symptom of fever or exhaustion — and he immediately feels the ends of his hair bristle up.

You were in heat.

“I think they went down here!”

You were in heat and you weren’t safe.

He wrapped his arm around your waist, lifting you off your feet and pulling you towards his chest. You panic, briefly, but accept your fate as he fumbles to open a door open and slip inside. It’s dark, the only light source coming from beneath the metal panels at the bottom of the door. It’s not a small space, as it was filled with fish tank maintenance materials and a freezer probably filled with fish foods or whatever else. But due to the volume of materials, it meant you’d be pressed closer — very close — to the alpha.

You can feel him breathing down your neck, his grip on your tightening as his pupil shrank into nothing but a dot of black against honey. He’s braced one arm on the wall, tugging you closer in a way he’d never done before and you wonder if everything was alright with him — he’d never acted so possessively before. You gasp softly when you hear a few voices echo behind the door. Jeong-Hyun’s chest rumbles, but not in those rare alpha rumbles of contentment, no. He’s going to start growling, the noise more guttural than anything you’d heard before. You try to turn in his arms which makes him snap his eyes towards you.

“Jeong-Hyun?” You whisper, willing your voice to go as soft as it could go. You squirm and this time, he reprimands you swiftly. He shoves his face to your neck and bites — not harsh enough to draw blood, barely enough pressure to even leave indents on his teeth, but the message is simple.

Don’t fuss.

It’s an old, rarely used, practice that mates would do. The alpha would gently reprimand their mate by letting them feel their teeth, a soft display of their power and dominance. Their mates would usually reply with a nip to their chins if they were in a more playful mood; a simple gesture of trust being shared between the couple.

‘You could hurt me with your teeth but you don’t, thank you.’

You freeze, breath hitching at the feeling of his sharp canines gently pressing themselves on your skin. You feel yourself getting aroused — there’s a reason this display isn’t seen as often anymore and why it was only shared between a mated couple, it was lewd to tease an omega’s neck. Your shoulders droop and you tilt your head the other way, so he lets your neck go and as a silent apology, he flattens his tongue to your skin.

You chew on the insides of your cheek, shivering as he continues to slowly drag his tongue on the column of your neck. Your scent was beginning to burn, the headiness causing Jeong-Hyun to loosen his grip around your waist so you wouldn’t feel his cock beginning to create a noticeable bulge in his pants. You don’t need to press up against it to know how turned-on he already is. You didn’t even care at the moment, all you could feel was how hard you were.

Jeong-Hyun feels you curling over and he quickly wraps both his arms around you, eyes widening in shock as you shiver and shake. You have your hands over your mouth, muffling your pants as a rush of warmth just washes over you.

This cannot be happening, you curse inwardly as you glare at the storeroom’s floor. Out of all days, for your heat to come, it had to be the day you were trying to run away from loan sharks and in the fucking storeroom of an aquatic pet shop. Your stomach twists uncomfortably, feeling too vulnerable, and exhaustion hits you all at once. Jeong-Hyun gently tries to press your back to his chest, worrying over you while the shadows under the door shift and sway.

“Shit, did we lose them?” “Maybe they went further up?

Someone leans on the door harshly and Jeong-Hyun carefully reaches forward to hold the door knob in place, his other hand cupping over your nose and mouth.

“This door is locked,” someone grunted and your heart rate picked up as he tried to jangle the doorknob open. “Are you hiding in there? You cheap slut, you think just because you got a boyfriend that you can disappear? You know how much money your spineless bitch of a father owes us, if you can’t pay it then we’re gonna turn you into —- “

“Hey! What the hell are you doing?” an old man yelled out. The door knob stopped moving and the both of you held your breath. “I already called the police! You’re trying to rob me, right!? The police are on their way! You bastards!”

Never in a million years would Jeong-Hyun be relieved that someone had called the police. The loan sharks yell back, trying to intimidate the old man but soon the sound of the old man’s angry yells and thudding quickly drove them out.

“These damn gangsters, always causing me trouble! I’m old already! I should be relaxing by the ocean, keeping my blood pressure down but these sons of bitches want to rob my store —” He kept rambling on and on as he hobbled away.

Jeong-Hyun can finally breathe, turning his attention towards you. He needs to get you somewhere safe as quickly as he can, you’re already too warm for his liking and when he removes his hand from your mouth, his heart clenches at the whine you let out. You’re trembling a bit, panting as you fight through the haze of your heat.

“Jeong-Hyun,” you mumble softly. “Jeong-Hyun…”

“Mm-mm” he has to focus on slipping his phone out, calling a number and quickly hanging up when the first ring went through. You’ll be okay, he wants to tell you as he nosed at the top of your head and held you close.

You lean into him, stretching your neck out to brush your lips against his jaw and Jeong-Hyun’s grip felt bruising even over your clothes. You whine softly, facing him and looking at him with heavy-lidded eyes. You’d always wondered how he’d be during intimate activities — would he be ruthless or would be gentle? Your curiosity is piqued and your self-restraint is beginning to fray.

You press a kiss over his cheek, loosely wrapping your arms around his neck as your chests press together. You could feel his hard-on, his firm body, his tense shoulders — his scent causing your head to spin the closer you get.

Bergamot and leather, a hint of freshness accompanying that intoxicating mix.

You pull his mask down, wanting — no needing to feel his bare skin. He watches you closely, his cheeks dusted with pink as you lean in and press your lips against his. You weren’t usually like this. Your heats were more annoying than they were arousing, even with previous partners. With the uncomfortable aches all over and the fogginess that can take over your brain, it was a complete nuisance. Especially when you couldn’t afford to take a week off of work.

But with Jeong-Hyun, there was this unbearable urge. A raging fire under your skin that only he could satisfy — your omega had been singing praises for him for a month now. His sweet personality, his courting gifts, his gentle touches. Even his violence excited you in a way that frightened you. Jeong-Hyun was a strong, capable, mate and you were tired of denying it.

He’s frozen at the act, eyes widening while you kiss him. The feeling of his exposed teeth didn’t deter you, you simply hummed and brushed your teeth on his lower lip. Jeong-Hyun doesn’t know what to do — he’s never had someone kiss him. He tries to mimic your movements, tilting his head the opposite way and when you moan softly Jeong-Hyun’s head floats away.

He pins you against the wall, covering the back of your head to lessen the impact, and kisses you like he’s been starved for days. He has no real coordination, his teeth are sharp and his actions clumsy, but there’s this hunger simmering within him. His wanton needs to have you as he steals your breath away.

You thread your fingers through his hair, whispering his name as his leg comes to rest between your legs. The brief friction made you groan, pulling away to breathe which Jeong-Hyun decided it’s too much distance — he chases after you and claims your lips once again.

He needed you. Here and now. He needed to claim you, mark you, fuck you. Jeong-Hyun can’t risk anyone else seeing you and taking you away from him. No, they’re not allowed. He’ll rip their fucking throats out if they tried to. You gasp, tasting him on your tongue as he braces his arms next to your head.

His phone buzzes against his thigh. Jeong-Hyun flinches, pulling away to hang up the call, but then he sees that your eyes are dazed; your lips red and bitten, and as you breathe, you take in these stuttering inhales. Your scent was beginning to fill this room and the sounds of the freezer, water filters, and LED lights, rushed to him.

This was far too exposing.

He picks up the call and strokes your neck to soothe you while you reach for the front of his shirt and try to pull him in again.

“We’re right in front of the pet shop, boss. The coast is clear. Should we head in?”

Jeong-Hyun grunts harshly — his way of saying ‘no’ — and then hangs up. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips as he runs his hands down your back, waist, hips, and ass, then finally catches the back of your knees and effortlessly lifts you in his arms.

You said you wanted to see his home, so he’s bringing you home.

The car ride is quiet, Jeong-Hyun had you on his lap, gently rubbing your back as you tried to keep your hands to yourself. His drivers were semi-familiar to you. The man driving usually accompanies the siblings, his signature black sunglasses and slicked-back hair hovering close by. The other one, with his spiked-up hair and a cocky grin, is also a familiar presence. Which should be comforting, but at the moment, it’s extremely awkward considering they were all alphas and you were in the throes of your heat.

Jeong-Hyun pressed kisses to your cheek and temple, brushing your hair away from your face while the A/C was blasting cold air through the backseats. It was helping you cool down, but you wanted nothing more than the comfort of soft bedding and four walls. But thanks to the peaceful albeit awkward car ride, you manage to get your bearings enough.

“You don’t have to take care of me,” Jeong-Hyun’s expression twists indignantly in confusion. He said everything without opening his mouth and you let out a weak chuckle. “I’m just saying.”

Jeong-Hyun moves his head from left to right, his lower lip pushed forward as he peers up at you. You laugh softly, cupping his face and brushing your thumb over his cheek while you press your forehead to his. At times he truly resembled a puppy or a dog who was unaware of their size and strength.

Leaning forward, you hide your face in the crook of his neck. Breathing in his comforting scent, while the car continues its incline to Jeong-Hyun’s home.

Jeong-Hyun thanks his men wordlessly while you lean against him, waving goodbye at them —- they tentatively return it before they drive away. Jeong-Hyun’s house has a huge yard, most likely tended to by a gardener rather than Jeong-Hyun judging by the neatly trimmed flower bushes. His home was tucked up and further away from his neighbours and it doesn’t take long to know why.

The second he opens the door, Hwan is racing and barking excitedly. Behind him was a pack of other dogs in varying sizes. They all had their tails wagging furiously, barking and yipping as they weaved through your legs and sniffed you invasively. Jeong-Hyun chuckles, playfully shoving them away with his hands so you can walk. You count that there were 7 dogs, including Hwan, and coo as they smiled up at you.

“You like dogs, huh?” Jeong-Hyun placed his mask on the shoe cabinet and kicked his shoes off, which distracted the dogs enough that they crowded him instead. Hwan stayed by your side, silently begging for pets as he leaned against your leg.

Jeong-Hyun makes a so-so gesture, grinning lopsidedly. He takes off his gloves, placing them next to his mask. Jeong-Hyun’s hands were scarred, but still intact. You wonder if his entire body was covered in scars, the thought makes you gasp softly.

“Shit, we should check if you’ve got any wounds. Do you have a first aid kit?”

Jeong-Hyun knew his sister had stocked up his home with first-aid kits in every bathroom. He guides you to his bedroom, taking off his jacket and folding it over his arm. Every time he’s shrugged that leather jacket off, his broad shoulders and figure calls for you to appreciate the work he’s put into himself. The black long-sleeved shirt he’s wearing isn’t torn or cut, thankfully, but you’re worried about the darker patches near his shoulder.

His bedroom layout was odd for a modern home. Instead of having the bed be in the centre, it was pushed right into the darkest corner, with his sheets messily strewn across it. The dark wooden floors were covered by rugs on rugs, like a Persian tent. There was a door leading to a walk-in closet which was much more neat and filled compared to his bare bedroom �� other than his bed, there was a nightstand with its drawers overloaded with the most random things.

An interesting bedroom for an interesting man you suppose.

Jeong-Hyun tells you to sit on his bed while he walks towards his bathroom. You nearly sink into the mattress and duvet, catching yourself by grabbing the edge of his bed. His bedding was prime nesting material, you wonder if it was his nest. Alphas aren’t known for making nests but it’s not unheard of. His was less constructed but there was an unmistakable wide C-shaped mound of pillows in the corner of the wall and you couldn’t resist it — your instincts were seeking comfort and what better comfort than a nest?

Jeong-Hyun’s heart stutters seeing you laid on your side, bringing his pillows to your face and chest. You weren’t brazenly sat in the centre of his nest, being respectful as you linger on the edges but the look of contentment on your face has him gripping onto his first-aid kit with more force than necessary.

Your shirt was riding up your stomach and he frowns as he takes note of the bruised skin. He sits by your legs, lashes trembling as he reaches for your shirt. He pauses and looks up at you, inhaling sharply when he sees the way you’re looking at him.

Those heavy-lidded eyes, watching him closely as you nuzzle into his pillows. The scent of your heat wasn’t helping him at all, he gulped thickly and you laughed softly, hiding your face while your hand reached down to pull your shirt up.

Jeong-Hyun’s hands are rough. His knuckles and finger pads were calloused and scarred. You can’t imagine how much pain he’d been in and how strong he truly was to withstand everything and still stand fearlessly against people who wanted him dead. Doing everything he could to survive, to make it through the next day. He should be cruel, and to his enemies, you know he is, but he’s so gentle with you. Jeong-Hyun’s glad you have nothing more than bruising and some scrapes, no stitches are required.

The bed creaks under his weight as he hovers above you, nosing the top of your head to coax you to look at him once again.

Take off your shirt.

You nod, sitting up and pulling your top off. He’s attentive as he checks your arms and back. His hands were so big, spread over your back as he makes sure he hadn’t missed a thing and you feel so warm and so fucking horny.

The silence wasn’t helping the tension, so you ask him to take his shirt off too.

“I wanna make sure you’re not hurt.”

Jeong-Hyun’s body was impressive, toned and built for necessity rather than vanity. He had a myriad of scars, ranging from what looked like gunshot wounds to knife slashes. The ones on his arms were brutal — it looked as though someone had pulled his skin off in chunks, with no rhythm or rhyme. Your hands aren’t baby skin soft, he could feel the callouses on them from your arduous labours. You feel the bumps and raised scars on his shoulder and arms, sensing a strange pattern on his upper arm and tracing it for a second.

Dog bites. His arms were covered in dog bites. The torn-off skin and messily stitched wounds, the discoloured reddish patches on him — all dog bites. You can’t hide the shock on your face and Jeong-Hyun just smiles.

Jeong-Hyun cups your face, his grin soft and warm, as he brushes his thumb over your cheek.

I’m fine.

He then turns his back to you and you focus on the scar on his shoulder that had reopened. It was just a surface wound now, but you’re diligent as you clean it.

“This might sting,” you tell him and Jeong-Hyun pretends to flinch in pain which makes you stutter out apologies only to pause when you hear him laugh. The scar across his neck didn’t deter him from making such a sweet sound as his shoulders jerked up and down at your bewildered expression. It was a bit strained but it was Jeong-Hyun — that scratchy baritone that would squeak at some points as he smiled widely at you.

“That’s not funny,” you mutter as you go back to cleaning his shoulder. Trying very hard to ignore how drenched you were. He hums, amused. As if saying ‘yes it was’ in his own way.

You place a square bandaid over his now-cleaned scar and hope it can finally have time to heal before he gets into more trouble. You can tell he’s aware of every touch and caress, his muscles twitching and his ear moving whenever he clenches his jaw. You hook your chin over his shoulder and he turns his head to face you. He had his fingers clenched into fists on his lap as some form of self-restraint. You trace his arms, forcing him to spread his fingers as you press your thumbs soothingly down the crescent shapes on his palms.

He was so hard. The tent in his pants practically begging for you to help. Jeong-Hyun grabs onto your wrist when you reach for his zipper, eyes widening in alarm.

“Am I going too fast?” You whisper, blinking in confusion. Jeong-Hyun looks away, scratching the back of his neck for a moment then tells you;

I’ve never… he pauses as he tries to find the words. I’ve never…

He makes a circle with his thumb and pointer finger, then uses his right hand to shove a digit through it.

“Wait, you’ve never had sex before?” he wonders why that catches you so off-guard.

No. Have you?

“Well, yeah,” you admitted. He frowns though it looks more like a petulant pout than anything. Despite your shock, you can’t deny how excited you were about this fact, which disgusts you for a moment — you felt like those alphas who preached about wanting a ‘pure’ omega as their mate despite not being a virgin themselves. But your omega was practically purring in delight at this newfound information. You’d be his first time and something about that made you childishly giddy and incredibly horny.

Jeong-Hyun feels a bit anxious now. He had an invisible competition with assholes you’d slept with — he could break someone's arm over his knee with no issue but sex wasn’t something he had ever been interested in. His experience was zero and the only reference he had was whenever he caught Minjeon — the guy with the spiky hair and cocky smirk who was in the car earlier — watching porn on his phone in the car.

He knows how it happens but not how to do it. Don’t get him wrong, he wants to do it with you but now he has to make sure he erases every other trace of those lame bitches from you.

“Hey, it’s okay.”

You muse out, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“I can teach you.”

Jeong-Hyun is still frowning — pouting — but when you reach for the front of his jeans, he doesn’t grab at you. You gasp softly when you pull his dick out, watching it twitch in the air with pre already beading on his blushing tip. It was thick and heavy, and you blushed furiously as you thought of it going inside of you.

You kiss his jaw, naked chest still pressed to his naked back and he shivers as he feels you slowly trace your lips to his neck just as you stroke his dick. His neck was a part of him he protected fiercely, you still remember how tight his grip on your hand was the first night you met, so you make sure to watch for any signs of discomfort as you kiss it. He pants softly, shivering every time he feels you grip his tip and your sweet kisses — Jeong-Hyun had never felt pleasure like this before and that was evident from how fast his heart was beating.

You trace a vein on his neck with your tongue and it has him gasping. Jeong-Hyun turns his head, nearly knocking his nose to yours and claims your lips. You struggle not to smile as you kiss him, still pumping his dick in your hands until he turns to climb on top of you.

You have him on his back, sitting comfortably on his lap while you grip his jaw. Your eyes are half-open while you watch him furrow his brows, desperate noises escaping him while your tongues tangle together. While he held onto you it was clear who was leading this dance and how willing the other participant was. He can feel how wet you are, the smooth glide of your cunt on his cock was making him drool. You licked it up from his chin, moaning his name softly while your dick bumps into his.

“Mn!” Jeong-Hyun tosses his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he grounds your hips down. You nose at his neck and he only gives a low growl as a response but makes no move to stop you; it fills you with a smugness you didn’t even think you could have. You guide his hands to your ass and groan when he immediately spreads you apart, the tip of his fingers brushing against your slit.

“You can put one finger in, Jeong-Hyun” You perk your ass out, smiling down at him. He licks his lips and does just that, sliding one digit in and instantly his pupil blows out like he’s on some drug. Your slick made the most obscene noises and your insides were warm, and inviting — it was like heaven. Jeong-Hyun surges up onto his elbow whilst he presses into you deeper. You chew on your lip, placing your hands on his shoulder while he mouths at your nipples.

“Ah, ah, easy, not so rough,” You laugh breathlessly as he slows down his curious thrusting. At least he didn’t have long nails, that would’ve been much more painful. “Curl your finger a bit, take it slow, jagiya”

Jeong-Hyun takes your nipple between his teeth and does as he’s told. You shiver in his arms, jaw falling open as he presses onto the spongy spot that sends such pleasant sensations up your spine. God, you were a vision. This raw, vulnerable, side of you. No stage light, makeup, or fancy outfits needed — though he still loved seeing you like that.

An angel just for him. That valley on the mountain. Here it was, on his lap. His paradise.

Just for him. All of you. Just for him.

You murmur to his temple that he could add another finger and he’s reminded of the fact that others had seen this before. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, but he’s not angry at you — why would he be? You were kind and sweet, stubborn, and fearless. Those others, those sly bitches, didn’t deserve you but went ahead and placed their marks on you either way.

Jeong-Hyun relishes in the noise you make as he pumps into you, leaving open-mouthed kisses on you while he keeps his eyes trained on your face. It didn’t matter how many others had seen you like this, you’re his now. If anyone tried to take you away from him or try to touch him — he’d crush them. He’d kill your past lovers for even mentioning you like this, he wouldn’t feel guilt for it. If they slighted you — if anyone did you wrong he’d rip them apart. Those loan sharks would regret saying those things about you, chasing you down, harassing you and trying to lay their hands on you.

He’ll cut off their hands for you, their tongues. He’d put them in a box and hand it to you to admire.

Jeong-Hyun slips another finger inside and you make a pitched moan, sloping your brows in bliss as you praise him in that sultry whispering tone.

He wanted to make you sing.

The alpha is careful as he pulls out, switching the positions so you’re now on your back and settled in his nest. Right where you belong. Surrounded by plushness and comfort that he can provide for you with that blissed expression. Jeong-Hyun pants, brushing his bangs back while you slither your legs loosely around his hips.

What better thank you than sex?

You weren’t that vain to think you were some sort of expert but you were determined to make his first time good. Great even. You grimace for a moment, curling an arm around your stomach as your body reminds you to pick up the pace. Penetration wasn’t a necessity for omegas in heat but rubbing one out always eased the random aches and cramps. Something about hormones or whatever it is that you can’t be bothered to remember at the moment.

Jeong-Hyun’s hands were much better than what you’d imagined. He thumbs at your hard cocklet, rubbing it as he slid his cock up and down between your legs. He’s so good for you. Patient, pliant, so eager for it.

Your scent sweetens in the air and Jeong-Hyun’s sharp nose catches it instantly. He gives you that look again — those puppy eyes that never fail to make you sway to his whims. But there’s a sharpness to it this time. A raw hunger that glints in his eye like a knife.

You reach between your legs and stroke his cock, never breaking eye contact as you guide his cockhead to your hole. Condoms, a voice whispers urgently in your mind, you can’t risk doing it raw, you need condoms, it says.

If you ended up pregnant, money wouldn’t exactly be an issue. Wouldn’t it? Regardless if you want to abort it or keep it. Jeong-Hyun made enough to cover the costs for both — both? Were you entertaining the idea of getting knocked up with a mobster's baby?

Impatience gnaws at you, so you shake your thoughts free of these concerns. That’d be for future you to worry about.

“Push it in,” you whisper to him and Jeong-Hyun, ever so obedient, does as he’s told.

Taking him in makes your head spin. His girth splits you open with every inch, the pleasurable veins on his dick making you lose your breath as he wraps an arm around your back and just keeps his eyes on you as you arch your back.

“Oh, o-oh fuck, Jeong-Hyun.”

He’s barely halfway in and you’re already clenched up around him like a vice. He hisses, glancing down at where you were connected and he wished he could take a picture of this. Of you taking his dick inside of you. You were opening up to him, squeezing around him like you never wanted to let him go. His omega, his mate, his and only his.

An itch settles into his gums, Not for violence this time, but instead, for you. It scares him — he doesn’t want to hurt you. But this was different, he didn’t just want, he found himself needing.

That misshapen blob he calls his hopes and dreams now had a shape and it was you.

You belatedly kissed him back as he carefully pushed more of himself inside, swallowing every gasp and moan as he pushed and pushed and pushed — the pressure makes your toes curl. You grasp onto his back, being mindful of his wounds but Jeong-Hyun bucks his hips and you mewl when you dig your nails into his back. Scar tissue is always more sensitive but Jeong-Hyun finds that pain turning him on more than it hurts because you could never hurt him, not in any way he’d dislike. He groans deeply as he finally sheathes himself fully.

Holy fuck.

Jeong-Hyun had never felt something as good as this before. No drug can compare to the feeling of your boypussy wrapped around him, clenching and unclenching as you desperately try to catch your breath. He brushes your bangs back, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he waits for you to tell him to fuck you. He could just do it himself, his instincts were screaming at him to do just that but he’d rather hear you tell him to do it.

Jeong-Hyun wanted to hear your voice again. To show you how happy he is you trusted him to do this for you. You whimper, fluttering your eyes open to see Jeong-Hyun looking down at you with nothing but pure adoration.

“Please,” he feels you dig your nails in again.

“Please, fuck me, Jeong-Hyun.”

The alpha — your alpha — complies. He braces himself on his hands and moves his hips. The first thrust has you locking your ankles behind him and he grins loosely at your wanton noises. Every movement he makes is purely for your pleasure. Jeong-Hyun’s cock speared inside of you again and again with quick and deep thrusts at first — as if he was reluctant about pulling out completely.

But once he got the hang of it, he was merciless. You knew he was strong, you’d seen him slaughter men like they were nothing more than insects, but you still screamed for him as if you were surprised.

He snapped his hips up into you, moaning and groaning as he paused to grind in. The fullness and friction made you squirm, hands dropping onto the bed to cover your mouth.

He shakes his head, pausing just so he can tenderly pin your hands next to your head. He threads his fingers through yours and you feel yourself blushing at the gesture.

“O-okay, okay,” you chuckle out. “M’sorry, you’re just — you’re in so fuckin’ deep, Jeong-Hyun, it feels so good.”

He tosses his head to the side, raising his brows in an ‘oh yeah?’ movement that makes you laugh a little.

“You’re so big, jagiya. Fuck, you’re making me feel every inch, huh?”

Jeong-Hyun doesn’t refute this statement but he takes the praise in stride. He resumes his movements, his back stinging lightly from your marks and with how you’re gripped onto his hand his hips stutter at the thought of you leaving your nail marks there too.

Mark him, claw at him, bite him — do anything you wanted as long as it left a mark on him, that was all Jeong-Hyun wanted. To be covered in you, by you, in any way he could think.

You turn your head, biting down on the pillows beneath you, and Jeong-Hyun zeroes in on your neck. Your scent is strong there and he finally pinpoints why his gums were itching for you — he needed to mark you. Here and now. To claim you as his, to keep scarring your scent gland over and over every time it healed so people would know you were his.

Ah, he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t take advantage of you while you were in heat, right?

You’d get mad at him, maybe?

Or would you be happy?

It wouldn’t matter much in the end, right? You belonged to him now and forever.

Jeong-Hyun drops onto his elbows, feeling a tightness in his stomach as he struggles to compose himself. He breathes over your neck, brushing his teeth over your pulse which makes you turn to face him, smoothly hiding your neck from view as you whine.

“Jeong-Hyun, I’m guh-gonna’ — I’m cummin’, shit, I’m cumming”

Another time then. He nods, kissing you once more as he feels his orgasm drawing near. Every thrust is knocking out those whorish noises from you and Jeong-Hyun can’t, won’t, cum if you don’t. He reaches down to rub at your dick and your entire body tenses up, your jaw opening in a silent scream as you clamp down on him like a vice. He growls, feeling your walls spasming around him and shortly after he cums inside of you.

The warmth that flooded you made your eyes roll back, groaning out his name as you felt him fill you up. Jeong-Hyun has his forehead pressed onto yours, eyes closed as he grunts and bucks his hips.

“Fuh — fuck…fuck” you whisper. Jeong-Hyun catches his bearings but doesn’t pull out. He can’t wait to fuck you when his rut comes, to knot you so his cum wouldn’t leak out of you. You’re limp in his arms when he lifts you to lay on your side, chuckling when you simply curl close to his chest.

He tucks your head under his chin, rubbing the back of your thighs and ass as you ease back down from that high. You flutter your eyes close, melting under his touch as the raging fire under your skin is temporarily quelled by Jeong-Hyun.

His arms, his hold really, felt like a protective shield. Nothing could hurt you in this moment, absolutely nothing. If they tried, Jeong-Hyun would deal with them easily enough and that thought no longer scares you. Jeong-Hyun had told you that he’d keep you safe and he’d kept true to his promise.

You peek your eyes open, staring at the scar on his chest and tracing over it gingerly.

“I think I love you.”

Jeong-Hyun freezes, his eyes widening before his chest begins to rumble in a soothing purr. You giggle, hiding your face further into his neck but his purrs simply get louder. His reply was clear.

I love you too.

#s3thwrit3sstuff #male reader #male reader insert #reader insert #gay reader #male!reader #ftm reader #yandere male #yandere x yn #yandere x male reader

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redladydeath · 1 day ago

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@storm-ismyusername

“You know, Sarah was frozen at an age when kids are still putting stuff in their mouths. She was a very well-mannered child on Earth, but things will always slip through the cracks. Mental image of Vox desperately trying to keep her from sucking on dirty things in their shitty little apartment.” Now I’m imagining Single Dad Vox trying to deal with the kids' new Sinner abilities. For example: Fineas getting things stuck to his head and Vox has to figure out how to unstick them. (Wait-! What Ondine somehow got stuck to Fineas’ head (maybe they were play-fighting? Oh the joys of raising demon children as a single father~)

Sdfghfdfghjk, you'd think keeping the two of them locked inside a single room apartment all day would keep them out of trouble, but alas, life finds a way. The kids both have claws and probably scratch the shit out of everything in the apartment, but that's a problem Vox has too.

Even in the "main" verse though, there was definitely one occasion back in the 70s when Vox walked in on Ondine desperately trying to pull a hat off of Fineas's head, stress crying about how it won't come off. Figuring out how your new demon anatomy works is fun.

What would happen if Vox’s parents met Vox in the kid Ondine and Fineas scenarios? What if Vox’s parents found kid Ondine and Fineas before Vox?

Sort of a repeat of Vox's own childhood, just with kids who didn't grow up in a theater and have no interest in performing. Not sure what the timeline on this would be, but let's say Thalia and Buskin had been in Hell for a year or two before the kids arrived and had already carved out a place for themselves in Pride's theatrical scene. When they happen upon the kids, of course they take them in– family sticks together, after all!– but they expect them to contribute, just as they did with their father.

Tommy and Sarah are now in the totally-fun-and-not-exhausting-at-all position of rapidly having to learn how to sing, dance, and act at a professional level when the only experience either of them had with performing before this was their church's Nativity plays. It especially sucks because not all the pressure is coming from their grandparents; the leader of the troupe they belong to doesn't allow freeloaders (even if they're literal children) and Thalia and Buskin don't have anywhere else to send the kids if their boss wants them off the premises.

Sarah turns out to be the better performer than Tommy (obviously), even though she starts off with intense stage fright. Tom is stiff and awkward and very clearly doesn't want to be there, but the natural charisma he inherited from his father plus the charm of a brother-sister act carries him through it. It's all very Gypsy. The kids are miserable, but their grandparents feel like they won the lottery: not one but two adorable children who will never grow up and can never get permanently injured!

The kids can't say they're all that heartbroken when their dad suddenly shows up out of nowhere, murders their grandparents, and takes them to go live somewhere where they don't have to work. Sarah might ask if she can act in Vox's shows later on though.

Also, side note, but this could be a possible route for that one Proto Vox scenario where he finds out the kids are in Hell, but doesn't want to let his overlord know about them/let the kids see his new body. If he'd somehow run into his parents at some point and they didn't annoy Lantana into killing them, he might have to make the tough decision to send them a message asking them to go take the kids off the street, knowing full well that they're going to put them through exactly the same thing he went through as a child. Again, Thalia and Buskin feel like they lucked out– Vaughn may be tied up with some overlord at the moment, but at least they get his kids!

What if Helen found them both instead? I can see this leading into a few pathways: A-Vox who isn’t an Overlord yet finding out (co-parenting in this situation sounds like a NIGHTMARE) B-If Overlord Vox found out about this would he kill Helen and stuff the kids into a fish tank? C-Vox finding out just as he’s gaining power and is still friends with Alastor.

Option B is the most likely (and the circumstances I originally imagined the fish tank scenario happening under). Options A and C are entirely contingent on how much Vox care about the kids' opinion of him. If he does care, then he has to suffer through an incredibly awkward shared custody/child support situation. If he doesn't, then it's uxoricide time. Maybe he can meet in the middle and just put out a hit on Helen and pretend to the kids he had nothing to do with it– Hell's a dangerous place, after all!

New theory: Vox and Alastor "broke up" because Alastor didn't like how Vox handled his baby mama drama.

@storm-ismyusername

Okay, so, the "Vox's kids die as children AU." I came up with the image of Vox keeping his kids in a fish tank first, but upon further reflection, I've realized that it doesn't really line up with the timeline I've established.

Vox's children were 7 and 10 when he died (1957)

Vox worked under an overlord for 3 years after his death before he broke free, started his own business, and met Alastor (1960)

He and Alastor were friends for 6 years until they fell out (1966)

Vox gained official overlord status 2 years later (1968). By the time Vox had the resources for the fish tank plan, his kids would've been 18 and 21.

The only window of time where Thomas and Sarah can die and still be children is 1957-1961, so it would have to happen when Vox was still in the employ of his overlord. I actually think the idea of struggling single dad Vox is really charming, so let's go with that.

With that background, I'm not sure if Vox would feel the need to do the fish tank thing since they went 15 years with nothing going wrong. Maybe it exists, but Sarah and Thomas aren't confined to it 24/7. Everyone already knows they exist, so they're allowed to move around the tower as they please (they are absolutely not allowed to go outside, though).

Okay, with that out of the way, onto the responses. Gonna answer this in parts: this one is the pre-canon stuff, the next will be the canon stuff, and the third will be RAM stuff.

Ondine & Fineas where they die as kids: How does child Sarah and Thomas react to: 1-Dying 2-Going to Hell 3-Reuniting with your dead Dad (who now has a TV for a head) Would any of their Sinner features be different? Is it weird I can see Vox being more fatherly to Sarah and Thomas than he was in his human life? So when Sarah & Thomas die as kids does Vox find them before or after his big fight with Alastor? If before, what would Alastor make of the situation? How long does Sarah and Thomas fend for themselves in Hell? A few days, a few weeks, a month, a year? Did someone find the first? Did Vox only learn his kids were in Hell when someone was using them as blackmail against him? Did Sarah and Thomas watch as their father brutally murder their kidnapper in front of them? Maybe another Overlord (like Carmilla, Zestial, or Rosie) found them and gave them to Vox because they felt threatening children was beneath them and drew the line at hurting kids. Wait what if Alastor found them first? What would he do with them if he did?

Okay, so Sarah and Thomas die somewhere between 1958 and 1959. They still drowned, maintaining their aquatic theming, but I'm not sure how exactly– could've been from their mother driving under the influence and crashing the car through a bridge's guardrails, could've been just regular drowning at the beach or something. Their mother survives, so they land in Hell alone (I have no idea what an 8~9 and 11~12-year-old could've done to get sent to Hell, but let's just move on).

Not sure how Vox finds them. In the main AU, they found him by recognizing his voice in an advertisement and seeking him out, but at this point, Vox is just some random nobody. Let's just assume he got extremely lucky and happened to come across them 1-30 days after they first arrived but before anyone else thought to scoop them up. Vox is horrified that they're dead and in Hell and privately swears to permakill his wife for letting this happen if he ever sees her again. He brings them back to his shitty little apartment and starts trying to figure out how the fuck he's supposed to care for children in Hell.

Despite the circumstances, Vox is actually a better father in Hell than he was on Earth. He has nothing to his name other than a shitty errand boy job, a tiny apartment, and his two small children, who he thought he'd never see again. While the stress of having to provide for them is a beast, losing everything sort of forced him to get his priorities in order. They become far more tight-knit than when they were alive, as Vox is forced to spend more time with them and get creative when it comes to meeting their needs.

It's all quite the adjustment for Thomas and Sarah. Dying and trying to survive on the streets was as traumatizing as you'd expect. Reuniting with your dead dad and having to adjust to living in poverty is also a lot to take in. Every day, they're stuck in a one-room apartment with gunshots constantly going off outside and explicit instructions from their father to be as quiet as possible and not open the door for anyone– very different from the upper-middle-class suburbanite life they were used to. Eventually, their dad will come home with cheap food, they'll spend time together for a while, and then they all curl up together in their singular bed and try to sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat. It's not a comfortable life, but it's definitely more intimate than how things used to be. Thomas starts letting go of some of his resentment of Vox since he can tell he's actually trying now, and Sarah's view of him as A Good Dad, Actually solidifies.

Eventually, Vox secretly kills his overlord, starts his first business, and is taken under Alastor's wing. Things become more comfortable for the three of them, and Alastor becomes something akin to a weird, kind of fun uncle to the kids. Things are looking up for the family as Vox starts to build power and wealth. It's horrifying for the kids when Vox comes home one night without a head and swears revenge on Alastor, but that incident only adds to Vox's upward momentum. After ten years of struggling in Hell, Thomas and Sarah (or rather, Fineas and Ondine) find themselves back in the lap of luxury as their father claims the title of the Overlord of Television.

#oc posting

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redk1ss3s · 7 hours ago

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Off Limits. ||Nam-gyu||

Just so happens your Thanos’ ex at the games. And to Thanos you’re off limits. But why should Nam-Gyu listen to him? After all- you’re your own person.

Warnings • Blowjobs, Bathroom bjs, Cursing, (and more?.. idk im not good at warnings😭🤞🏻)

A/n • First time writing.. kinda nervous.. anyways if you don’t like Nam-gyu keep on scrolling- MORE FOR ME! —MDNI—

ꨄ︎ You, sitting over on your bunk just eating. Meanwhile Nam-gyu is staring.. and staring.. and- jesus does he have a staring problem? You think, giving him slight glances over. What was his problem?

ꨄ︎ God you were pretty. “Nam-su, whats ya lookin’ at.” Thanos spoke after done talking to Min-su. “Its Nam-gyu.. that girl over there- damn she-“ “Nahhh.” he leans over just so his hes right up to his ear, hand on his shoulder. “You don’t want that. Fucking whore she is.”

ꨄ︎ Looking over at Thanos, hes already looking at you too. “Ya’ know her?” “Shes ma’ ex. Broke up with me cause-.. Honestly don’t know.” he leans off of Nam-gyu and lays back on the steps and sighs. Yeah whatever. We’ll see.

3rd game

ꨄ︎ The woman voice announced the game Mingle. It was already a few rounds in- he was sticking with Thanos of course. Then after the platform stopped spinning for the 3rd time, the woman voice announced 2 players. Before Nam-gyu could even look over- Thanos had already ran off with Min-su.

ꨄ︎ Fucking jerk. Then- fuck. You grab him by the wrist and pull him into an empty room and lock the door shut. Turning around to look at him and fixing your hair.

ꨄ︎ “kill me now..” he says quietly under his breath- hoping you never heard him. “Uh.. excuse me?” his eyes shoot from the corner of the pink room to you staring at him with your eye brow raised and leaning against the wall like him. “n-nothin’..”

ꨄ︎ The room stood silent for a few seconds. “Your friends with Thanos, yeah?” you break the silence. Hes looking all over the room in awkwardness. But when you talk he doesn’t even bother to look at you.

ꨄ︎ “I’m talking to you.” you say getting annoyed. God he was just like Thanos. “Yeah.” he says plainly. You just nod waiting for the doors to unlock. Not too long after they do. You turn around pushing the door open not saying a word to him. He literally just gives you the side eye when he walks out with you and scoffs walking off to find Thanos.

Before lunch

ꨄ︎ When you got back you didn’t just want to sit around like you usually did. So you went to go try and make a friend. Eventually after trying with many people, you did. His name was Dae-ho and was probably- well.. he was, the sweetest person you have ever met.

ꨄ︎ You guys sat around talking about the games and having a laugh. Not even knowing the daggers Nam-gyu was drilling into the back of your head.

ꨄ︎ But he couldn’t just go up to you. He doesn’t know you like that. It cuts him out of his trance when circle, triangle, and square guards walk in just in time for lunch.

ꨄ︎ You and Dae-ho walk up to the stand and grab the food. You look over and see Thanos, giving the guard a dirty look and behind him Nam-gyu, smiling a little nod ti the guard and walking off behind Thanos. Hah! Like a dog!

ꨄ︎ You smile a little and walk off back to Dae-ho and sit down to eat whatever shit they gave you. Meanwhile Nam-gyu was still shooting daggers. “Nam-su-“ “Nam-gyu.” he corrected him. “Right. Do ya wanna go mess with em? Ya seem.. weird.”

ꨄ︎ Nam-gyu thinks just for a second. “Sure.” Thanos smirks and opens his necklace and pops a pill- offering him one as well. Obviously, he doesn’t decline the offer and takes one too, Thanos not noticing he took one extra.

ꨄ︎ You took a bite of your food and cringed. “God, the least they could do is warm this shit up-“ “Awh man- looks like i can’t get laid today huh? Maybe another time then, right (Name)?” you get interrupted by Thanos coming over teasing you with Nam-gyu behind him. “Nah man- she’ll probably get you and pony tail at the same time! Wouldn’t doubt it.” Nam-gyu chimes in.

ꨄ︎ You give them a ‘the fuck are you doing here’ look and shake it off looking back to Dae-ho “Ignore them. There just fucking moles trying to get there small dicks wet.” you say to him looking back at them half-way through your sentence.

ꨄ︎ Thanos was about to open his mouth to say something, but Nam-gyu nugged his shoulder, signalling for them to just leave. And surprisingly they do. But just as they’re walking away, Nam-gyu looks back and glares at you. You just flick him off and roll your eyes and turn back to Dae-ho to continue your conversation.

ꨄ︎ Later on, its 10 minutes until lights out and you’re getting ready for bed. Damn you wish there was more than just a thin sheet of a blanket. All of a sudden you need to pee. ‘I doubt they’re gonna let me pee now.’ you think to yourself.

ꨄ︎ You walk through the middle of the room, and over to the bathroom door- knocking. “Hey! I need to use the bathroom!” the guard slides the little panel over and unlocks the door letting you in. That was easier than expected.

ꨄ︎ You walk in and are guided to the bathrooms, men and women. Walking into the women stall, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. Damn these guards are weird. You walk to a stall, do your business and when you come out walk to the sink and look at yourself in the mirror.

ꨄ︎ For a second you have some peace and quiet. That was until the bathroom door opened, expecting it to be another girl, you only spare a little quick glance. But looking back up fast- it was Nam-gyu?..

ꨄ︎ “The fuck?” you say standing up straight. “They just let fucking pervs in the women’s bathrooms now huh?” raising an eyebrow. He looked.. almost pissed? But why is he so.. holy shit? Ew what the fuck stop thinking like that!

ꨄ︎ “I got a small dick huh, (Name)?” he spits out walking and stopping right in-front of you. What?- oh. You almost forgot about that. “I don’t fucking know? Almost all jerks have small dicks y’know.” rolling your eyes- frustrated not wanting to make chitchat right now.

ꨄ︎ He looks away and smirks clenching his jaw and poking his tongue into his cheek. Holy shit he needed to stop doing that. Then he looks back at you leaning into your ear. “Then, (Name). You’re gonna find out. Right. Now.” you look quickly back at him, confusion on your face. “What?-“

ꨄ︎ Before you could even get out your full sentence, he puts both of his hands on your shoulders and pushes you down on your knees. And when you look up, oh. He’s pulling his pants down. Your eyes blown wide. Not knowing what to do or what to say, just sit there on your knees.. watching your exes friend pull out his already hard dick right in your face.

ꨄ︎ “Small now, hey?” he says breaking you out if your staring, now looking up. When you look up he’s smirking and grabbing his base, tapping it against your cheek. “Why don’t you test the waters?” you furrow your eyebrows feeling him against your cheek.

ꨄ︎ Now hes grabbing the back of your head and before you could think, your mouth is opening and taking him in your mouth all the way. He groans and balls your hair in his fist. Leaning his head back. When he looks down- your eyes and squeezed shut trying not to gag.

ꨄ︎ “Look at me. Now.” you open your eyes and look up at him, tears in your eyes.. what the fuck was happening?! He moves your head in a slow pace- biting his lip and smirking as you struggle to keep your eyes open.

ꨄ︎ So be told.. you have never given a blowjob before. So thats great!.. ha ha.. A little bit goes by of him groaning, he pulls your hair and surprisingly you whine at it. He chuckles and his chuckle is turned into a little moan. He lets go of your hair and you keep bobbing your head.. was he even moving your head all that time?..

ꨄ︎ You grab onto his hip and he grabs onto your neck stopping your head at the base of his dick. Again, he moves his head back and groans.. and your eyes blown wide again. Feeling the warm substance flow into your mouth.

ꨄ︎ He pulls your head off if his cock and you keep your mouth shut tight- not knowing what to do with the cum in your mouth. He pulls up his pants and looks down at you. Biting his lip again, looking unfazed about what he’d just done.

ꨄ︎ He kneels down on one knee and you look at him surprised. He puts his finger on your lip, dragging it down. “Swallow.” for a split second, he’s looking in your eyes. It takes you a second to comprehend on what he’d had said. But.. you do.

ꨄ︎ Closing your eyes shut and swallowing his cum. When you open your teary eyes, he’s smirking..? He slaps your cheek gently “Good.. see ya’ (Name).” and just like that, he stands up and leaves you on the ground, on your knees like a dog. You stare into the distance for a second to comprehend on what had just happened.

ꨄ︎ You walk out of the bathrooms a little bit later and walk up to Nam-gyu and Thanos. Thanos looks over and looks confused. “What ya want barbie doll?” he says looking at Min-su chuckling to himself.. of course Min-su doesn’t laugh with him.

ꨄ︎ You lean into Thanos’ ear and whisper.. “It’s bigger than yours.. I think.” you lean back up smirking and walk away.

ꨄ︎ He turns to Nam-gyu “Stealing my girls now Nam-su?!” he says, acting like his heart broke, putting his hand over his heart. Nam-gyu just goes a giddy smile and leans his head down into his hands.

A/n • yeah so.. idk if this was cringey or not😭 but i literally had to take breaks in between when writing the smut part🙏🏻 tell me if i need to work on my smut or anything cause im thinking of writing more on the squid game characters..

#squid game #nam gyu #thanos #nam gyu smut #squid game smut #first post #lemon

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queenie-ofthe-void · 2 days ago

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Tainted

Steddie || wc: 6k || rating: E || cws: DEAD DOVE DNE, steve harrington whump, Vampire!Eddie, post break up second chance, sexually explicit, blood (like a lot of blood), chronic pain and illness, recreational and prescription drug use/abuse, heavy angst, EVENTUAL HAPPY ENDING THE COMFORT IS COMING!! || ao3

Steve pulls the needle from his arm, long since used to the sensation. He expertly applies a cotton ball and bandage over the puncture wound he'll remove as soon as Robin leaves.

She's giving him that look again. The one she always gives him when he's draining. Her lip is swollen from biting, and she won't meet his eyes as he wraps the tubing up and seals the heavy, red medical bag.

He knows she won't say anything. She's done arguing with him about it, mostly because she knows he's done caring what she has to say. So he heads to the garage, where the lone, tall, white freezer stands with a sharpie taped to the side and a log sheet hanging next to it.

It's only logged a few months back to January. The rest of the monthly sheets are meticulously filed away in his office, going back nine years now.

Robin's good at bookkeeping, took it upon herself so he could drain at home without having to go into The Lab. She's even better at scheduling his monthly check-ups at the clinic, coordinating his medications, and all-around keeping him upright and arguably functional.

All Steve has to do is bleed, log, and ship.

He doesn't even have to pay for shipping. Eddie takes care of all of those little details– well, Paige does.

Which is nice, since apparently shipping bodily fluids like blood requires a shit ton of caveats for a civilian. But it was pretty easy to heap the exorbitant costs his way, since Eddie's got enough rockstar money and guilt to spare.

Not that Steve blames him. How was Eddie supposed to know that every time he sunk his fangs into Steve's neck, it boiled his blood with a cocktail of toxins? There's no way they could've predicted that their first feeding would doom them both. A love ruined before it even started.

It wasn't a problem for Steve. He tries not to dwell after so many years, but when the nights are long and the pain thrums in his limbs, Steve thinks they could've made it work.

Everyone told him it was the venom, like Eddie was pumping some kind of stupid fucking love poison into his veins, that Steve didn't have real control over his emotions. Eddie was bad for Steve, and everyone agreed– even Eddie.

Steve didn’t, but that didn’t seem to matter in the end. He fell in line, like he always did. Still does.

Steve grabs a styrofoam box from the stack and fills it with dry ice Robin bought at the grocery earlier today. He adds the fresh bag to the "new" shelf, and puts the two bags on top of the "old" shelf into the box, sealing it shut with packing tape and sticking a prepaid shipping label on the top.

According to Robin, it's all monitored by the government and Owens’ team. Steve’s not sure the man's very involved in the whole Hawkins used to be actual hell bullshit anymore, since there's not much left. Beyond his and El's– and presumably Eddie's– annual appointments, there's not much left for him to do.

The world fell apart. Monsters decimated the town. They won, eventually. So Owens and the government fucks off like everything’s back to normal. Except El murdered a man she had once considered a brother, and then unraveled with grief. Max lived, but refused to use her wheelchair, refused to admit she’s blind, refused to get out of bed. And Eddie...

Eddie was the one good thing to happen in the aftermath– once they purged him of Kas. Steve thought he saved Eddie when he captured Kas stalking around in the woods at night. He locked him in the basement, tossing down raw meat and boxes of live rats until Kas became little flashes of Eddie.

Until Steve could figure out what he really needed to become Eddie again. What's a little blood when he's risked so much more in such worse circumstances?

Apparently a lot. Because it fucking ruined his life.

“Wait–” Eddie interrupted Owens’ speech about unknown variables and additional testing– “you’re telling me that his weird bruises and the aches and the awful fucking migraines are because I poisoned him?”

Owens sighed, looking between the floor, Steve tucked into the hospital bed, and Eddie perched next to him, like he could come up with a better answer other than a simple ‘yes’. He couldn’t.

Eddie tried and failed not to cry as Owens explained how the venom in Eddie’s bite wasn’t an aphrodisiac, like they had childishly chalked it up to be. It permanently altered Steve’s kidneys, fucking up some shit in his bones to make him produce too much blood. “Most likely evolved as a permanent, reliable source of feeding–” Owens rambled, until Eddie vomited right onto the floor.

On the plus side, it turned out it was a condition pretty similar to one that already exists, which meant other than his annual appointment with the lab, Steve could do his normal check-ups at the hospital. “You’ll have to take a rigorous schedule of medications, along with at least one blood draw a week– unless Mr. Munson is around to, ah… assist.”

The blood disorder, according to Owens’ results, was a lost cause after the first bite. The bone-deep pain, however, “could’ve been mitigated had Mr. Munson not continued his feedings,” with an unsaid ‘like I suggested’ hanging off the end of his accusation.

When they’d first brought Eddie in to be checked out, they’d been warned about continuing to feed, something about unknown prognosis, and possible long-term side effects. Steve had fought Eddie hard, and eventually convinced him that it didn’t matter. As long as it meant they kept feeding.

“How could something that feels so right be bad for us, Eds?” Steve whispered into the quiet dark of their room, Eddie curled up naked next to him. He didn’t respond.

Steve should’ve known it was the beginning of the end. Almost two beautiful years together, until the guilt ate Eddie alive. He saved Steve by leaving him and ran as far away as he could.

They haven’t spoken since.

Steve sets the box down on the coffee table only for Robin to scoop it up, with boots on and keys in hand. "It's only two bags this time," Steve says, "Owens took–"

“– the rest for testing. Yes, they already know." He knows she's not irritated, but the pity in her eyes grates on his nerves even though she’s still not looking at him. He knows it's there. The smell of pity is as ripe as the metallic tang in the air.

He walks her to the door. She spins back around to face him, lips pursed with a finger in the air. "I forgot to mention," she lightly taps him on the nose, and she giggles when he shakes her off like an annoyed dog, "I put the new bottle of serum Paige sent yesterday in the fridge for you. I saw you were low and figured it'd save time on thawing a new one."

She turns back towards the foyer, on her way out the door when Steve calls out "The fresh one? What about the one from last week, won't that expire?"

His concern is waved off with a shrug and not even a glance over her shoulder. "Christmas is only three days away, you deserve the good stuff." Steve's thin laugh barely has time to sour when she shouts, "I'll be back with Vickie in a few hours for dinner," as she closes the door behind her.

Steve considers holding off on his next dose until Robin and Vickie leave for the night. Instead, he heads into the kitchen, pulling the small, brown, glass vial out to warm in his hand. Steve hasn't dosed venom– serum, as Robin calls it, like a name means all the difference– cold since the first time, and he'll never do it again.

The chronic pain of withdrawal from Eddie's toxin isn't nearly as bad as the permanent blood disorder because of it, but it's not easy. On the best days, it's an annoying ache in his limbs. The worst days leave him immobile in bed, burning from the inside out.

Steve misses the heavy blossom of euphoria coursing through him with each bite, almost two bottles worth of doses equal to one feeding. He misses the sudden relief of tension, leaving his body molten, unfiltered lust filling out his cock so fast he almost passes out.

Except nine years ago today, Eddie curled up next to him in the back of Steve's new pick up. The sky was dark but clear, the air frigid with a light snowfall. Hot little puffs of weed smoke poured from between their lips. It was one moment of a thousand between them where the electricity was so palpable it left him buzzing. The only difference, however, was that Eddie finally closed the distance with a kiss.

His lips felt like coming home. The slide of his soft, warm tongue against Steve's was a claim of not just hunger or desire. It was love, companionship. Life.

They lasted five minutes before they fed and fucked. But then later Eddie crawled into his bed, moved all his stuff in the next day, and never left.

Until he did, of course.

Steve calls Robin to tell her he's tired. She must know he's lying, but Steve argues and she caves, agreeing to see him tomorrow instead. Robin knows what today means to him. Normally, he’d be thankful for how much she cares, how much she worries about him. It’s still nice to finally spend today, of all days, alone.

Steve props the small bottle, now warmed to room temp, on the coffee table in front of him as he settles into the couch. He did as much as he could to change out everything in his apartment when Eddie left. Not that it was contaminated, just tainted– like everything they once shared is now.

The couch is Steve's favorite by far. Nothing fancy, only a simple blue sofa with fluffy armrest for him to lay his head on. He sleeps better here than his own bed most nights. It's a love seat, but he's always slept curled up anyway.

There are two little drawers in the old, wooden coffee table—the one on the right holds just enough storage for remotes and other small trinkets. Steve opens the one on the left. He sets a black box next to the large rubber tie next to the syringe next to the unwrapped needle next to the little brown vial.

But Robin's right. It's almost Christmas. It's his ex-anniversary. He's doing so well at the firm that his dad clapped him on the shoulder and offered him a glass of his personal whiskey. And he hates all of it.

Steve doses half the vial. It's not lethal, not even dangerous. The venom can't do more damage than it already has. It only layers more and more blankets of relief over him until he’s lulled back into the euphoria-filled lust he's craved for years.

The buzz hits him instantly. Steve knows what's coming, so he strips off his clothes and moves to the floor. His skin glistens with sweat before he pulls his last sock off, tossing it on the couch. Desperate heat rolls through his chest, settles in his gut.

Steve’s cock twitches, untouched, as he fumbles to open the black box. A pathetic whine escapes him looking at the set of homemade toys inside, nothing like the basic dildo and cockrings upstairs in his nightstand.

You always were a sad little slut for me, sweetheart.

He moans in the quiet of his living room. Fingers trembling, he sets the box down and pulls out his first indulgence. An oversized dildo, almost an exact replica. Pale, matching skin-tone at the balls and base, fading up into a dark black at the swollen tip. It even includes the silver, metal ball pierced just under the head.

A gift. Steve tries not to cry just looking at it.

One of the first things Eddie spent his big-time rockstar money, having his giant fucking monster dick molded just for Steve. It was one of the last gifts he ever gave him. Except the weekly shipments of venom, which Steve doesn't count.

It's a toy he rarely uses but fails to forget about.

He mounts it on the side of the coffee table before he preps himself. It taunts him, mocking his desperation as he hastily shoves two fingers into where he’s hollow. The angle’s all wrong, lube spilling over his wrist, dripping down his forearm and onto the carpet beneath him.

He should get comfortable, lay down on his back instead of staying on all fours, but Steve’s skin is too tight for his bones. He’s shaking, sweating with lust and he just needs some fucking relief. Just needs something for once in his fucking life to feel good again, to go right again, after everything went so fucking wrong.

A tear slips free as he lines up and spears himself on a toy that isn’t Eddie, but feels so painfully close. Rocking himself back until he feels the balls pressed against him, he rides the toy hard enough to jostle the table with each thrust.

It’s not the easiest position. He should’ve pushed the table up against the couch next to him, or laid a soft blanket on the floor to protect his now burning hands and knees from the carpet. Steve knows he should slow down. He's not relaxed enough, hasn’t prepped well enough if the pain means anything.

It doesn't. Pain means nothing when drops of Eddie course through his veins.

You're so tight, baby. Feel so fucking good on my cock. Look at you Stevie, crying, you're so desperate for me.

Steve swipes the back of his hand across his damp cheeks. It leaves a streak of lube he hadn't seen through his blurred vision, but he doesn't care. Better than tears, anyway.

Frustrated, Steve rummages the box again and pulls out a similarly colored fleshlight. Fingers shaking, he barely manages to keep hold of the bottle as he coats the inside with an excessive amount of lube. He closes his eyes, slows his fingers into a firm roll.

Fuck Stevie, love your fingers deep inside me.

Steve tries to remind himself this isn't real. It's all plastic and silicone and a ghost of a voice in his head.

The sentiment is lost as he slips the swollen, red tip of his cock inside. He curls forward, bracing his weight on his head and shoulder. Steve screams as the dildo finally punches his prostate. Lightning sparks down his spine, sending him into a frenzy.

It's everything he denies himself because no one feels like this. How can anyone ever wonder why Steve's relationships always fail when this pathetic display is better than any fuck he can find? Because there is no moving on from Eddie, not really.

So Steve revels in Eddie's name on his tongue and the metal ball driving into his prostate and the wet, slick sound of fucking into what he pretends is Eddie's tight little hole until he's sobbing. He's close. Tension coils deep in his gut. Snot drips from Steve’s nose as his sobs echo in an empty home, but it's no use. It’s not enough. He needs more, knows exactly what he needs, and he hates himself for it.

Relief still sits in the box. A small metal contraption Steve managed to create all on his own, lost in the worst of his depression. It looks back at him with the same disappointment it does every year.

Two old mouth guards he wore for football, wired together at the back and molded just big enough for Steve to slip his fingers into the teeth-shaped grooves. He rubs the pads of his fingers over the smooth, metal nail heads, sharp tips pierced through the other side.

He keeps trying to remind himself it's not real. They're not his fangs. There's no swipe of a tongue across his skin or lips suckling at his neck. It's not Eddie. But he can pretend it is, just for tonight.

Writhing with anticipation, he pours a bit of the venom in the bottom of the box. Steve opens the fanged-jaws wide and coats the two nails fused into the top and the two on the bottom. He jostles the box as he fucks Edd– the dildo– faster, drops of venom splashing the carpet. Tension coils low in his gut and it takes all of Steve’s willpower to wait. Wait until the nails are completely covered, dripping fat, clear drops into the box.

Tongue lolling out of his mouth, Steve holds the fangs above him, head tipped back as the venom drips down into his mouth. Another sob morphs into a guttural moan and he knows he’s out of time.

It’s been almost a decade but Steve still knows where his favorite place to feed was, so he lines up the bite. Except just the tips of the nails against his skin sends Steve careening over the edge.

The empty house is filled with Steve's screams as he comes . With his last remaining brain cells and a firm grip, he closes the metal contraption into his throat, plunging the nails inside.

Mine to bite, to drink, to love. Only mine, forever.

"Fuck, Eddie, yes. Only yours. Fuck–"

The injected venom rips out another orgasm, almost painful in its intensity. Come spills out of the warm, hollow toy that isn't Eddie and onto the floor, adding to the mess of lube that drips from his throbbing hole as he pulls out the other toy that also isn't Eddie.

Exhausted, Steve has just enough of mind to grab the blanket draped across the couch behind him before he passes out.

~~~

Part 2 coming soon! ao3

Header graphic kudos!

#THIS IS MY FIRST SMUT EVER!#I'm pretty happy with it #steddie fic #steddie smut #minors dni #dead dove do not eat #heavy angst #steve harrington whump #platonic stobin #steve harrington #eddie munson #vampire eddie munson #blood and injury #if anyone knows where I can find a DD:DNE or Minors DNI banner for this fic please rec I would appreciate it <3 #queeniewritesstories

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