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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 · 16 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 · 9 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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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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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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timothyslucy · 9 months ago

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JUST LOOK HOW WORRIED MY BABYGIRL IS WTH 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

#*carly catalogs #the rookie #the rookie s6 #lucy chen #chenford #i can physically feel my heart being squeezed together in my chest GOD!!!!!!!!#WHY ARE THEY DOING THIS TO HER???????????#IS IT 'PICK ON LUCY' SEASON????????????????????????????#BECAUSE MY GIRL CAN'T CATCH THE SLIGHTEST OF BREAKS JESUS FUCKING CHRIST #the whole first part of s6 she was railroaded by the department....#and now she's going through this emotional hell of tim breaking up with her......#even though she was still sticking by his side and never was going to leave.....#and she's still sticking by his side even now.....#OH MY GOD 'ALEXA PLAY I CAN'T STOP LOVING YOU COVERED BY TAYLOR SWIFT'

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sysig · 8 months ago

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Introducing Spinster Pepper!! 💕

I got a few pictures of him eating as well, under the cut if you’d rather not see!

You can see just how tiny he is here lol - he’s in his food enclosure, aka a salt/pepper shaker hehe ♥

I don’t know why he pulled the mealworm up the wall with him, he caught it on the floor of the shaker lol

Probably the best shot I have of his abdomen - look at those beautiful markings! 💖

World’s most wonderful little hunter <3

#Spider #Phidippus #I haven't been able to ID him yet but he seems like a Phidippus of some variety - not an Audax and not a Regius but I don't know which one!#If I had to guess based on his markings he seems like either a Princeps or Johnsoni #Both very beautiful spiders :)#And both easy to tell male or female once they're fully matured!#I call him ''he'' but that's just a guess based on the size of his abdomen - he's much plumper now that he's eaten haha #But that's my guess! I'll find out as he grows more - as you can see he's still quite tiny so his pedipalps aren't a clue yet #He is - So cute <3 <3 #So Smol has been accompanying me on my spider hunts recently - we found a few juveniles at our local library which were very cute!#Too small to bring home just yet but very pretty :D Black and white but not zebras - if I get the chance I'll try to ID them next time #But this little one was a surprise #We ended up in a thread-spinning shop and smol noticed him first - she also was a smart lad and brought the catch cup with <3 #It didn't even occur to me to do so but I'm so glad she did - although he's so small that he was able to slip out through the air slats!#He was hanging out on the ceiling of the shop and we got permission to bring him with from the spinner and she was so cute about it haha #Told some spider stories of the other resident spiders that she'd noticed over the years ah <3 Really lovely!#And I got to talk a little about jumping spiders and their intelligence and how they move and observe and just <3 <3 #So since the catch cup couldn't contain him we had to think up an alternate solution - and luckily one of the other shops had some ♪#Specifically a matching glass salt and pepper shaker which he - adorably ;; - tried to escape by sticking his little legs out the holes #I was most concerned of getting him to eat! Since some spiders don't take well to captivity so I was willing to release him if need-be #But I was so set on calling him Spinster Pepper from how we found him and transported him home hehe <3 #As you can see he took to eating no problem! Which is good because he was quite thin when we brought him home #And it took me a little bit to remember how to get Jumpers to eat lol he couldn't find the mealworm(s) in the big enclosure #I actually got to watch him hunt - watch as the mealworm wiggled and back off and come around the side and strike! Ah <3 #He's also So silly lol - the enclosure I bought has a soft open-sided pre-built nest that I pushed up into the corner for him #He's successfully gotten on top of it! Very clever! But - lol - he doesn't seem to realize that it's open and that he can go inside #So this silly little spider has opted to make his little pocket-hammock /on top/ of the pre-built nest. He is So Silly <3 #I also swear he was watching me as I watched him a few nights ago :) So curious! Obviously recognizes a big shadow but what is that?? Hehe #He runs laps around the top of the enclosure and I'm pretty sure I can see the streaks from where his belly and legs rub against the inside #He's too adorable I'm love this spider so bad already ♥

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aroacettorney · 1 year ago

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dont mind me. im simply just putting together a ludgercasey angst collection.

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#''why cant u be normal abt them'' how can i be normal abt them when solid 80% of their interactions is either angst or stemmed from angst.#even their ''fluff'' moments were also angst.#literally no one does angst like they do.#ludger prefers to keep most of his connections extremely impersonal/professional.#but whether or not he wants to admit it theirs on the other hand simply does not... fit in that category.#he'd even tried to convert it that way but it just didnt stick bc neither of them could help but be themselves around each other lmfao.#ludger is seemly still oblivious to caseys attempt to mend their personal relationship.#which is not too surprising considering he was also oblivious to the existence of their past relationship.#after all there was no reason for him to believe that casey would want to have anything to do with him. except maybe putting him in jail.#so pushing her away seems to be the most logical decision right? personal relationship is a luxury to him anyway.#alas casey who wanted to believe in their past friendship takes it as a sign that ludger has no interest in maintaining it.#she now has to take a step back because ''if you force a relationship it may become more estranged.''#so unless he takes the initiative they are likely stuck in this limbo.#(casey might use impersonal excuses to stay around but rn its all up to ludger to change the nature of their relationship)#casey girlie forget him i would have treated you so much better... is what i would have loved to say.#i wouldnt be suffering this much if ludger wasnt clearly holding himself back most of the time / if it was completely one-sided from casey.#i dont know if this is a slow burn or hurt no comfort but if casey gets no closure im gonna commit arson 😔#aro ludgercasey propaganda #selmore's undercover husband #auposting

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nobully · 2 hours ago

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Growing up, Wang Yi had studied his share of psychology books and classmates just to learn how to fit in. Imitating them had been a part of life until he could echo their expressions and tone perfectly. Sometimes he fancied he actually felt what they were feeling. After all, his body was human. It breathed like them, spoke like them, and he had eyes that were capable of tears.

He calls upon all of his experiences now to decipher what he's feeling at this moment: cold one second, hot the next. Nicolette is standing in front of him and baring her heart out, and Wang Yi recognizes that she's telling him that she's lonely.

What was loneliness?

Solitude without peace, a beginning without an end. A hole in your heart, he thinks, so that even when it's beating, a piece of its warmth is still missing. Of course he knew that Break and Zhilan were gone too, but his sensations were duller, more muffled. He and Nicolette were still living well, he assumed, so the best thing was to continue like they always had.

I thought you were doing fine, he thinks guiltily, brows furrowing. She had smiled and teased as always—but of course. Asking him to sleep over, inviting him to stay.

He's stupid for not getting the memo until she tells him outright.

"You know..." Wang Yi leans in. Nicolette is staring at her shoes, so he just rests his cheek against the side of her face while pulling her closer to him. "Anywhere I go, Sao Ling's coming along too. If he scratches up the furniture and Break comes back, I'm counting on you to defend me, yeah?"

He tosses that out to lighten the mood, but his next words are quieter, murmured right by her ears.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize."

"All this time you were in the mansion I was thinking, 'Nicolette's living like a queen by now, she can sleep in a different room every night.' The fact that the house is still there after Break left—I figured it was his gift to you and Zhilan. You guys are close in your own way, so I didn't want to get between that."

He's used to being the odd one out, an extra that doesn't quite fit in. Even if he tries, something inevitably sours—so it'd been him in the condo and them in the mansion, and everything had been fine.

"I'm pretty sure the guy doesn't want me there, but," his hold on her tightens, and a low laugh interrupts his next time. "if you invite me as a permanent houseguest, then I'll stick around until he kicks me out himself. I'll pester you everyday and pay my rent with the cooking and cleaning...sounds good?"

❝ You know things have been really quiet, with the others... gone. ❞ It's hard, to say that word, and it never gets any easier. ❝ The mansion feels so much bigger, which— well, I didn't think it was possible because it's already so big! I mean, talk about excessive, right? ❞ Nicolette laughs softly, but the act is hard it maintain. Now that she's started, the bleeding wound aches, and without the safety of the metaphor, her tender flesh is painfully exposed.

Other than Break, Wang Yi is one of the few people that— past carefully curated masks and lies— is able to understand her, regardless of how hard she tries to hide. He still manages to miss the mark sometimes, but they've done well so far, for a pair that both feels too much and is learning how to feel at all.

She trusts him. Despite all the missteps, all the hurt, Wang Yi makes her feel seen. It's terrifying, and suffocating, but also beautiful and addicting.

❝ Actually, I feel... really alone. ❞ The confession is a whisper, and Nicolette breaks his gaze to stare at their feet, blinking away the threat of hot tears. ❝ I had no attachment to the Rainsworth Mansion— not the way Break does, with all the fond memories of his family, before here. But... it became that for me, too, the place with... the people I love. It's— it feels like my home. I've never had anything like that, before. ❞

❝ Now... it's so empty. I hate being there, in the silence. Sometimes I wake up and feel like I've lost everyone, and I just wish I could turn over and see you there or— or walk down the hall and selfishly wake you up. I want to eat breakfast with you, and walk through Zhilan's garden and stay up late before saying goodnight. ❞

Nicolette feels out of breath by the end, having grown desperate the more she flayed her heart open before him. At some point, two-tone eyes lifted to franticly search his, and while she feels the blush on her face, her expression is pained. ❝ I always wanted you there, to ask you this, but it never felt like the right time. I was scared, of how you'd react. But... I miss them, so much, and I don't— I don't want to miss you too, when you're right here. ❞

#nicawlette #nicawlette12

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nakakabaliw · 3 months ago

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check out my mouthwashing hcs : ] artist notes and explanation under the cut!!!

JIMMY - I found most of their last names in the mouthwashing reddit and as I searched up the surname Zare, it seemed to be of Iranian origin, hence why he's Iranian American to me. I like to think he was already pale and sickly looking before but during the game events he just looks. Worse. DAISUKE- Juarez is fairly a Filipino/Mexican name but I'm sticking with Filipino purely bc i believe he can do the budots. Anywho, I took his Early skintone from the official emojis in the steam page and tried to incorporate the ingame skintone with it, mixing it up a little so hes not completely washed out. ANYA- Im biased when doing her nationality HC bc ive been learning french and I learned from reddit that her last name is Japanese so thats interesting : ] now I think she and Daisuke have something to bond over at least. Anywho, I like to believe she has her particular style of makeup, and she used to have foundation that wouldve made her skin brighter bc shes really pale. Her ingame skintone is even paler than her usual bc of no sun. Also yes, she looks worse bc of fatigue bc i can only imagine the struggle and sleepless nights patching curly up. Shes still very beautiful though!!!! SWANSEA- Nothing much to write home about, just regular signs of aging, searching up his name on google (his name is a welsh town apparently), but his card shows a broken nose! Or maybe its the way the card is bent. I love to believe the former. CURLY - So we dont have a Curly ID so I made my own, freshly promoted Curly. His hair changing is a reference to my hair changing (im also blonde) and bc i think hes p neat so he has that. Hes Canadian British bc hes the whitest white man you can ever white. Maybe a sprinkle of irish but thats it. like 9% Irish from his mother's side or something. His curls stopped curling curling because I doubt he'd have too much time worrying abt them atp when the ship atmosphere fucks it up anyways.

#mouthwashing #baliwart #mouthwahsing anya #mouthwashing daisuke #mouthwashing swansea #mouthwashing curly #mouthwashing jimmy #mouthwashing hc #mouthwashing fanart

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arminsumi · 2 months ago

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ㅤ★ ONETWOTHREEFOUR — MAX!

... bully!Gojo loves fucking you in the bathroom stall, turning his creampies into whipped cream inside you. But you know what else he loves? Plugging you up with a vibrator and surprising you by turning it on mid-lecture — and passing the control over to his best friend.

ㅤ★ requested by anon / promptlist

ㅤ★ cws; strictly no under 18s, smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, secret public sex/nearly caught (poor confused Choso just getting moaned at), multiple orgasms/creampies, remote toy control, Suguru gets passed the remote, dirty talk, some spanking/ass slapping

There's just no way he can reach your little hole without bending his knees — and still you have to be poised on your tippy toes to let him fuck you.

Body shuddering with your hands splayed against the bathroom stall's pretty pink wall, your skirt fisted in his big hands and your thong pushed to the side of your puffy lips, bully!Gojo thrusts into your poor overused pussy 'till she cries, 'till she gushes, 'till he groans and releases another cumload against your cervix, 'till he turns his creampies into whipped cream.

Sure, his cockhead is oversensitive from plunging into your wet walls, and his balls are sore from slapping into your poor puffy clit for creampie after creampie, and yeah, there's cum dripping down the front of his thighs— but he's fucking you to put you in your place. And with how addicted he is to the feeling of being inside you, getting his pretty pink cock hugged tight by your walls, he just can't stop now.

His hips practically move on their own. His cock keeps telling him not to pull out just yet — it's telling him let's let her have it.

In mock affection, he presses his sweaty cheek against your forehead, white wispy bangs sticking to your skin, eyes glued to your jiggling breasts, big hand coming down to rub your clit. "Insensitive, huh?" he asks in a dangerous coo, "I'll show ya how fucking insensitive I can be." and with that, he's frantically massaging circles on your super fucking sensitive clit.

"Ah! Fuck! T-t-toruuu, I'm sorry! I didn't even mean it, I was just a-angryyy!" you sob out, feeling his mean cockhead rubbing sweet spots deep inside you.

His clit rubbing is ruthless, and he's a messy boy you know he doesn't care that his fingers and palm are coated with your slick.

"Nah, you meant it." he grunts back, blue eyes piercing you with a glare, hips pounding into you from the back, muscles twitchy 'n tensing, "Now stay still 'n take it. I told'ya I was gonna fuck that attitude out of ya, didn't I?"

You let out a strangled moan at his words, nearly going limp against the shuddering bathroom stall's wall. Satoru presses your head against it, smushing your cheek, getting rougher by the second.

He's still tightly fisting your skirt in his hand, other hand sometimes tugging harshly on your pathetically tiny thong — the one he told you to wear today, or else he's gonna throw one of his spoiled rich boy tantrums. He can't resist groping at your soft ass and spreading your ruby red smacked cheeks wide.

Satoru momentarily stills inside you, choking you up with how deep he chooses to keep his throbbing cock, and then he repositions himself; sharp polished black shoes clicking as he spreads his long legs further apart.

"New angle, hope ya like it." he jokes, angling his cock so it curves right against the gummy roof of your pussy, right against that spot.

"Oh fuck!" you cry out when he starts pounding up into your hole, nearly lifting you off your feet with the force of each thrust, makin' your sweaty body jiggle erotically.

He watches you widen your eyes when his cock hits a sweet spot just right, the one that makes your eyes twitch in pleasure 'n your knees buckle.

You're gushing around him, totally soaking his length, pussy too full of his gooey creampies 'n now they're leaking out and running down your thighs.

His cock hits that damn sweet spot again, with more precision than before.

"Oh fuck, fuck! Right there! Fuck me right there, 'Toru!" you chokingly moan, feeling a shockwave of pleasure pulse from your pussy to every point in your body.

"Damn, chill." he chuckles.

Chill? Of course he'd say that while he's fucking you like he's trying to get you cockdrunk. He's pounding into your gummy walls 'n rubbing your clit with this hate-fueled determination.

All you did was talk back to him in class. Just a cutesy little snide remark. You thought it would turn him on. Well, it did turn him on — it also turned his gaze cold and wiped the smirk off his face. Two things that sent shivers down your spine.

Oh, I'm fucked.

The way he leaned back and hummed had your pussy twitching, already getting wet at the thought of what he was gonna do to put you back in your place.

Whiiich brings us back to the last bathroom stall of the men's bathroom, the stall in which your bully is fucking up your guts and turning you into his personal cocksleeve.

He's close, you can tell because that's when his steady, deep strokes slow and he takes two inches out so he can rub annoyingly back and forth across his favorite ridge inside your pussy. And his tell-tale signs? Choppy breathing, brows twisted together, tightened grip on your body, 'n he's got this psychotic smile forming on his face which he likes to press against your sweaty forehead to let ya know how much he's enjoying bullying you.

Just feeling all his cum getting fucked out of your quivering hole makes you want to cum again. It's almost scary. What if you fall apart? You might even scream this time. Nah, who cares honestly? You can't control how your walls squeeze his cock now even though he bitterly scolds you for being too tight, too tiny to take him all.

You can hardly hear the nasty vocabulary he's using on you, 'cause you're too fucked-out on his thick cock, not even caring if the squelching sounds and choking moans escape under the door and echo down your college's corridors. Even if anyone barged in, Satoru would probably just do what he did last week — when someone barged into the spare room while he was in heat 'n balls deep in your pussy — tell 'em to fuck off.

"Fuck me." Satoru groans, "That hot little pussy 's gonna make me cum... 'm gonna cum... gonna fill you up... ahah... fuck."

He's just the type to giggle during the buildup to his orgasm. It sounds almost psychotic — yeah, you knew from day one that he's crazy and his cock is crazy.

His cock gets hotter, then it bursts with thick ropes of cum once again. The both of you savor in the feeling. It's in the aftershocks of his orgasm that Satoru wonders if he's actually falling in love with you.

Then he snaps-to.

"Shit, you're a fucking mess." Satoru grins almost sadistically, sweating like crazy under his uniform.

You're just shivering against the wall as he eases his cum-coated cock out your pussy, sliding past your folds. Cheek smushed against the wall, face looking like you just saw heaven for an hour, you're relishing the buzzy afterglow of getting fucked dumb by your bully.

His hard slap on your ass brings you back to reality. You hear the sound of him pulling his pants up his long legs, dragging up his zipper. The click of his button. Then he plants another hard slap on your stinging cheek.

You groan, teasingly wiggling your cum-filled pussy, feeling his big hands groping the plush of your cheek and spreading it to reveal your twitchy holes — and he just keeps grinning, watching his seed ooze out 'n drip down your pretty thighs — those thighs that are the reason he chased you in the first place.

You'd think he's looking at the Mona Lisa with how he marvels at the sight — but nah, it's just his white, gooey creampies smeared across your lips and inner thighs. "Aw, don't let it drip out or 'm gonna need to plug ya up..."

Trembling, you listen to him unzipping his backpack and rifling around. "What d'you mean?" you ask, looking back at him with a dazed afterglow on your face, but when you do he's already sliding something into your pussy.

"Ahhh, fuck!" you squirm, feeling that hot pink toy push inside and stretch open your cum-soaked walls again. "I'm so tired, gimmie a break!"

"Relaaax, it's just to plug ya up..." he grins mischievously.

"Oh... o-okay... if you say so."

Oh, but what a liar he is.

It's ten minutes after you and him cleaned up and scurried off to your class and took your seats.

Shit — late again. You curse Satoru and his dummy big cock as you settle down.

... then you feel something start to buzz inside you.

"Oh!?" you let out a small gasp.

Vibrations against your sweet spots make your eyes flicker. Your filled pussy freaks out, spasming and twitching like crazy around the toy.

You give a glare of disbelief back at Satoru, who sat two rows behind and above you — duh, so he could always get a nice view of your breasts.

He sees you. He smirks. He raises a pink little controller shaped like a flat egg, and tauntingly shakes it in his hand before clicking a button.

One notch up.

"Nn!" you tighten around the toy.

He watches you freak out from afar, his sweaty face contorting into a diabolically naughty smirk.

Two notches up. Three notches. Off. Onetwothreefour — you gulp and smack the desk — earning a look from your seatmate, Choso.

The toy temporarily turns off.

"... sorry, this question is just so frustrating." you apologize, playing off your random desk smack.

"Yeah, tell me about it. I'm failing this class for sure."

"S-same, honestly." you reply shakily, soothingly rubbing up and down your clenched thighs.

You text Satoru with fervency.

You

'just a plug' my ass! wtf is this thing!

Toru

lol 🍑🔜 and chill... it's just a lil something i picked up for ya

You

ur the devil. i hate u.

Toru

ur hurting my feelings 🥺

Onetwothreefour — max!

"Fuck...!" you gasp again, feeling a dizzy rush as the toy buzzes at max deep inside your pussy.

Choso gives you a concerned side-glance.

"Sounds like you're really having a rough day." he jokes.

You look at him. He's sitting pretty close.

"You have no ideaaaaaahhhhhhh~" you moan back, accidentally cumming right there in front of your classmate.

Immediately clapping your hand over your mouth, you blink at him. Oh no... you just orgasmically moaned against poor, confused Choso's face.

His eyes widen. He blinks. " H u h ? "

Satoru sees this and slides down in his seat, holding in his laughter behind a toothy smile, pearly whites all on display. Now his best friend gives him a look.

"Satoru..." Suguru sighs, catching onto what was happening. "Give the girl a break."

"You wanna try?" he offers Suguru the remote control.

Suguru looks at it. He looks at you, then Satoru, then the toy... and takes it into his hand and chuckles with his best friend behind their textbooks, clicking it to a new pattern.

You just twitch your eyes and then shut them in pleasure, cursing the both of them in your mind while you feel your thighs tremble and feel the toy pulsing. Your pussy squeezes the pink silicone.

And you can hear those dastardly best friends giggling behind your back, watching you wiggle in pleasure, trying to contain your moans. Every time you glance back at them, Satoru makes mocking ahegao faces at you. Suguru just smirks and continues to play with the vibrator.

Oh, you were definitely gonna get 'em back for this.

𝐓𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 💗

#★ 𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐔𝐏!#arminsumi's prompts #tw smut #tw bullying #mdni #smut #x reader #fem reader #gojo #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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sunnywalnut · 5 months ago

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No but I'm still looking for the Denny's that is still in the middle of nowhere

having cis guy friends is so funny like youll ask if they wanna hang out and theyll send you to the dark woods

#no joke #my brother. fresh out of the house. 19 #years old. rolls up to our house right after midnight with a car full of teenagers. tells me and my little sister to get in.#obviously we're asking questions. where are we going. how long are we going to be gone. what are we doing. why are all these people in here.#the whole shebang #he answers NONE of them.#so we get in the back seat. I'm being gay with my friend at the time. and we're chilling listening to tunes on the radio.#except now they're talking about a Denny's. i look to the front seat where my brother is driving and he pulls up pictures on his phone #of the inside of somebody's. house. What?#and if that wasn't weird enough. we had already driven 20 minutes off a sideroad into the middle of nowhere. nothing but grass #and a big ol barn/farmhouse that looks like it came straight out of a Scooby Doo snapshot. it's dark as hell out. the lone building appearin #blue in the dark. with a single orange lantern lit hanging from the top. i look to my brother who has never lead me astray before.#and I feel like i am part of Scooby Doo. five teenagers in a car. in the middle of the night. wondering where the hell Denny's went.#now finally my brother has some wits to him. and we take a tight u turn and turn ourselves around. good. shows over right? WRONG.#this bitch pulls up YET ANOTHER place on his phone and starts driving 15 MINUTES UP ONTO A DIRT ROAD AND KEEPS DRIVING.#we're going to a haunted bridge boys!#in the middle of the night! at like 3am! the witching hour! great plan broski. sounds awesome. good thinking there.#we get to this haunted bridge. and this mf is barely 5ft across. but the water below is dark and murky and my lil sis INSISTS she sees a #dude down below. so I'm silently freaking out because what the hell do i say to that. she's like. 13. i tell her it'll be okay. because #that's what big/middle bros do. we drive over the bridge. nothing happens. cue relaxation. my brother is audibly disappointed #“well that was useless” bro you almost took us to Denny's in some cannibalistic farmdudes basement. i think I'll take the barely haunted #bridge. my brother. who still wants to show us an adventure. and probably save face in front of his friends. flips us around yet again and #starts heading off into a whole NEW direction. towards the World's Largest Gas Station!#it is like 4am by now. we're hungry. we're cramping. losing our marbles with exhaustion. and still processing our latest episode with the #Mystery Machine. so fine. I'm taking a nap. just don't get us killed in the long run.#we survived. btw. if that wasn't obvious. and we did actually make it to The World's Biggest Gas Station. and it was pretty fun.#as far as gas stations go at least. i got some honey sticks and a lollipop in the shape of a bear. i don't really like honey. but it wascute #there were walls FILLED with stuffed animals.a whole clothing department. a candy shop. and even a full fledged restaurant on the other side #i think there were even two levels to it? i can't remember. but anyways. we eat. we leave. we survive. end of story.

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sincerelyneo · 3 months ago

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diet pepsi | n.jm

“losing all my innocence in the back seat”

📀now playing: diet pepsi by addison rae

❯ summary: Jeno has one rule — his little sister is not allowed at street races. Jaemin knows this, and still, he can’t help but feel a thrill when he spots you sneaking out to watch him race. That is, until he sees you with another guy, and suddenly, he’s all in favor of Jeno’s rule. And he’s pretty sure that rule also means he should intervene and give you a ride home.

❯ pairings: jaemin x virgin fem!reader

❯ genre: brother’s best friend, smut, racing!au

❯ words: 5.6k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, swearing, arguing, jealously, pet names, car sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this!), oral sex (fem!receiving), fingering, virginity loss, slight corruption kink, bit of angst, ‘daddy’ mentioned once but not in a kink way?, jaemin is lowkey a dramatic asshole in the first half, mention of marking, reader uses she/her pronouns, literally just a jealous brother’s best friend trope because it eats every time

Jaemin’s blood runs cold when he sees you—wait, what are you even doing here?

He’s never been so tense in the driver’s seat before. He’s usually all calm and controlled, razor-focused on the track, with only one thing on his mind: winning. And he’s pretty damn good at it. But today, he can’t seem to focus. Not with you—Jeno’s little sister—standing right there on the sidelines, sticking out like a beacon in a crowd of rowdy onlookers.

So out of place, timid and awkward. Normally, he’d find it cute if he wasn’t so pissed that you’re even here. You don’t belong among his reckless racer friends, the ones with wandering eyes; and the girls with short skirts, heavy perfume, and sharp eyeliner.

He’s never been this distracted at the starting line before, never found anything particularly interesting to gaze at through his freshly cleaned windshield. But there you are.

Ripped blue jeans clinging to every curve that he’s spent years thinking about—too many nights with his hand wrapped around his cock, imagining how his fingers would mold and print into the soft flesh of your skin. And those cherry-red lips—they make pride swell in his chest, a small thrill from knowing he’s the only racer here with a red car. It’s probably just a coincidence, but Jaemin lets the possessive part of his mind take over, because he wants nothing more than to see that red smeared around your cheeks as he kisses you—wants it to stain him like a claim.

God, what’s he even thinking?

You’re his best friend’s little sister. Off-limits.

Speaking of which, why are you here? Jeno’s not racing tonight, and he’d kill you if he found out. Actually, Jeno would kill him, even though Jaemin had no idea you’d even show up. Jeno hated you being at the races on a good day, let alone when he wasn’t here to keep an eye on things.

And maybe that’s why, for the first time, Jaemin’s gaze drifts to his side mirror as he speeds off. Because Jeno’s not here to watch over you—so he has to. Yeah, that’s it. It’s for Jeno’s sake. Definitely not because he’s worried about you. And definitely not because he likes the way your cherry-red lips part in a cheer—a cheer he likes to imagine is all for him.

Who’s he kidding? Jaemin loves knowing you’re here, watching him race. Honestly, it’s the biggest rush he’s ever felt—the purest shot of adrenaline—and he’s never pushed this hard on the track. But right now, he only wants to win for you.

And he does, slamming on the brakes, coming to a screeching halt the second he crosses the finish line. A few friends clap him on the back as he gets out of his car, congratulating him, but he doesn’t care about them. He only wants you—to hear you say he did great, to see that proud look in your eyes. He wants you to beg him not to yell at you for sneaking in tonight… or worse, promise he won’t tell Jeno.

Except, Jaemin’s not so sure he can negotiate on the “no yelling” part of that deal. Not when he spots you in the crowd, looking up at Jisung. Jisung, who’s got your attention on him instead of his win. Jisung, who’s making you laugh—and Jaemin knows he’s not that funny. Jisung, who’s handing you a can of Diet Pepsi—and you’re just taking it, smiling at him with those red lips, lips that don’t belong to him.

Jaemin knows Jisung doesn’t have a bad bone in his body—Christ, the guy wouldn’t hurt a fly, and he’s one of his racer friends. Still, he doesn’t like the way you lean in when you laugh or how you’re looking up at him with pretty eyelashes fluttering. It makes something stir in him, something sharp and possessive. Without thinking, he storms over, snatching the damn can from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours in the process.

You gasp, the sound almost too soft, "Woah, Jaem–"

"What are you doing here, Y/N?

You stumble back, heart skipping in your chest. He’s looking at you like he’s about to devour you whole. Gaze locked with yours, primal and urgent, scanning you with a heat that makes your breath hitch, throat going suddenly dry. You came here to see him—no one else. But the way his eyes are on you now...you don’t know whether telling him that would be a good idea.

You swallow hard, feeling small beneath the weight of his stare. “I—uh, I—I’m just… here to watch,” you mumble. "I didn’t think it’d be a big deal..."

Jaemin doesn’t respond right away, his eyes narrowing as they flick over you, then over to Jisung, then back to you. "Alone?" he finally asks. "You just showed up here by yourself?"

“Well yeah–I didn’t think anyone would mind..."

"Jeno’s gonna fucking kill you when he hears about this," he mutters exhaling sharply, the tension in his jaw is visible as he crosses his arms. "You know he doesn’t like you being here.” His eyes flicker to Jisung for a moment before they shift back to you, a little colder. "And I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to know you’re accepting drinks from other racers, huh?”

Your brow furrows, a tinge of annoyance creeping in. "It��s just a can of Diet Pepsi, it’s not—"

Jaemin cuts you off. "It doesn’t matter what it is," he snaps. "What matters is that you’re here, without telling anyone where you were going. Without Jeno knowing." He shakes his head in disbelief.

You scoff. "I’m an adult, Jaemin. Jeno’s not my keeper, and neither are you–"

Jaemin’s jaw tightens, and something flickers in his eyes—something dark. But just as quickly as it appears, it’s gone. "That’s not the point, Y/N," he growls, his voice lowering. "The point is you’re here, at a street race, by yourself. You think that’s smart? You think that’s safe?" He takes a step closer. "What if something happened to you?"

"I’m fine, Jaemin. I can take care of myself, okay?" Your voice cracks, frustration spilling out, but the sound doesn’t make Jaemin soften like it usually would.

He steps even closer, towering over you, his presence dominating, and you can feel his breath on your face, hot and quick. “This—this shit—" he gestures around to the crowd, the cars, the racers that surround you both, "this is not safe for you. You shouldn’t be here."

Your hands curl into fists at your sides, jaw set as you refuse to back down. "Why? You and Jeno come here every other weekend?” What’s the big deal?"

"The big deal, Y/N, is that you're a pretty girl, surrounded by a bunch of horny assholes who'd love nothing more than to corrupt a sweet little thing like you."

Your breath catches in your throat, and your mouth goes dry as his words hit you like a punch. You blink, trying to process, but the anger in his eyes is enough to make your pulse quicken. Jaemin must realize what he’s said because there's a brief moment of hesitation. He clears his throat, trying to regain control.

"And you never told anyone," he tries to add, his voice a little less steady now, "And you're letting random guys buy you drinks—"

"I already told you. It was just a Diet Pepsi, Jaemin. You’re blowing this way out of proportion!" You cut him off.

You don’t even know what you’re arguing about anymore— and you’re pretty sure he doesn’t either—it’s like he’s mad for the sake of being mad, the two of you going around in circles.

And frankly, you're tired of it. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. You’ve always had a thing for Jaemin, and now was supposed to be your chance—your shot to make him see you as more than just Jeno’s little sister. You knew he’d be distracted with the race, but you thought if you showed up, maybe he’d finally notice you, really see you. But instead, he’s making it perfectly clear that you’ll never be anything more than that girl he feels the need to protect.

“Stop treating me like a child, Jaemin,” you sigh. “I’m not some fragile little girl who needs you to babysit her."

You turn on your heel, ready to walk away from him, but before you can take more than a few steps, Jaemin’s hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

"No. We’re not done talking."

He steps forward again, grip on your limbs tight but not painful, and before you can even process what’s happening, he’s pulling you toward the exit, the sound of your shoes hitting the pavement is far too loud in the heavy silence that’s settled.

"Jaemin, wait!" You tug against him, stumbling slightly, trying to free your wrist from his grasp. "I’m not going anywhere with you. I told you, I don’t need you babysitting me—"

"I’m not asking." His voice is low and final. "You’re going home, and you’re going with me."

"Let go of me!" You hiss, still trying to yank free, but he just tightens his grip, pulling you with him as if you’re a ragdoll.

Jaemin finally stops, turning to face you, his eyes sharp with frustration. He growls at your protesting, stepping into your personal space. "I’m taking you home, Y/N. Don’t argue with me."

You stare up at him, chest heaving with anger and something else—something you don’t want to admit to yourself. "You’re insufferable," you mutter, but it’s weak.

You know you’re defeated. There’s no point in fighting him anymore. His presence is suffocating, overwhelming, and every fibre of your body knows he’s not going to let this go until he’s got you back home. You have no choice but to comply really. And you groan whilst slipping into the passenger seat of his car, imagining the story he’s going to muster up for your brother.

Jaemin gets into the driver’s seat, his body tense and irritated, and you almost feel bad that he can’t celebrate his win—almost. He places the can of Diet Pepsi in the cup holder, the soft clink of the can echoing through the car. Then, without breaking his focus, his gaze flicks to you, his voice low and commanding.

“Seatbelt.”

You huff, rolling your eyes as you slide it on. “Yes, daddy.”

The moment the words leave your mouth, Jaemin’s jaw tightens, the muscle flexing under his skin. His eyes darken for a split second, a dangerous glint flashing, something that makes your pulse stutter for just a moment. His fingers curl around the steering wheel, gripping it a little tighter than necessary as he tries to compose himself.

He clears his throat, shifting slightly in his seat, nostrils flaring. “Don’t push your luck, Y/N.”

You sink into your seat with a sigh. The silence in the car hangs as he drives, thick with awkwardness and annoyance. Your throat still feels dry from the argument, and before you can even think about it, you reach for the can. The cold metal soothes your fingertips. But the second your lips brush against the rim, you can feel Jaemin’s eyes on you—hot, intense, and focused.

You can feel him watch your every move, and as you pull the drink away from your lips, his eyes narrow in on the red stain your lipstick left on the silver rim. His grip on the steering wheel tightens, jaw tightening with it, his gaze flickering between your lips and the can in your hand. Without warning, he snatches it from your fingers, one hand still on the wheel, eyes focused and full.

Then, Jaemin presses his own lips against the spot where yours just were, right over the mark you left. Sipping the drink slowly — savouring it.

“What the hell are you doing?” you ask, voice a little breathless, startled.

Jaemin’s eyes widen, and for a split second, his grip tightens on the can before he abruptly pulls it away from his mouth, tossing it into the cup holder without a second glance. His brows furrow as he tries to make sense of his own actions, as if he’s suddenly aware of how ridiculous he must look. His mind is reeling—over a simple lipstick mark on the rim of a can. Something so innocent, yet it’s driving him crazy.

He clears his throat, trying to regain an ounce of composure, but his voice cracks slightly. "I was, uh..." He hesitates, biting back a sharp breath, his eyes flickering to the road before snapping back to you. "Just making sure it wasn’t spiked…?"

It sounds weak, even to his own ears, and he knows you’re not buying it. The way your lips part tells him everything. You narrow your eyes at him, a little too sharp for comfort.

“Spiked?” You glance at the cup holder, where the can now sits innocently. “How would you even know from the taste, Jaemin? Not to mention Jisung gave me this, that boy wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Jaemin knows that. Still, he curses under his breath, running a hand through his hair as the frustration builds in his chest. His entire excuse is a mess, just like the thoughts spinning in his head.

"Look, let’s call it precautionary, okay?" His voice is clipped and there’s a tightness to it. "Don’t make it a big deal."

You lean back in the seat, a small bitter laugh escaping you. “Me making things a big deal? Oh, the irony.”

He doesn’t respond or bite back or try for the final word and it makes the silence thicker. Jaemin’s grip on the wheel is so tight his knuckles are white, and honestly, you don’t know how long you can keep doing this.

“You're impossible, you know that?" The words slip out before you can stop them, and your chest tightens as soon as they do. "I didn't come here for you to babysit me or make me feel like I need your protection. I came here because I—" You stop yourself.

Jaemin's head snaps to you, "Because you what?"

For a second, you can’t speak. The words are right there, but they feel too big, too much to let out. You’re caught between the urge to spill it all or keeping it hidden, scared to change the dynamic. But you’ve been pretending for too long, playing by the rules, and now, you want to stop hiding.

“I came here because I wanted you to see me,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “Not as Jeno’s little sister. Not as some kid. I wanted you to see me… as me.”

Jaemin doesn’t react, not at first – well, he does, but it’s subtle. His hands go completely white around the wheel, his jaw clenched so tight you can almost hear it. Without saying a word, he pops the indicator on and pulls over, the tyres screeching slightly as he brings the car to a sudden stop.

You freeze, and a small wave of panic bubbles up inside your chest. Did you say the wrong thing? Did you make it weird? He’s your brother’s best friend, and now you’ve crossed that weird line that’s bound to make everything awkward. Jeno’s gonna kill you.

You swallow hard, waiting for him to snap, to tell you how messed up this whole thing is.

But he kisses you.

His hand on your cheek, without warning, pulling you into him, and consuming your lips with a force that steals the air from your lungs. It’s not gentle like you expected him to be. He’s typically always gentle with you — unless he’s mad, which right now, he is. This kiss is desperate. Hungry. And you like it because it’s the kind of kiss that makes your body forget how to breathe. The kind of kiss that tells you he doesn’t see you like a kid – like Jneo’s little sister.

“You drive me fucking insane, you know that?” Jaemin growls, nudging your noses together. His hands find your waist, to grip it. “You walk around in those jeans clinging to your ass, with your cheeks flushed, and that fucking lipstick the same shade as my car.”

You giggle softly against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You noticed?”

“Of course I fucking noticed,” he groans.

Jaemin’s lips trail down your jawline, each kiss slow, and teasing, and needy. The desperation in his movements is evident like he’s trying to savour every inch of your skin. The feeling is foreign to you—each soft press of his lips sends a rush of heat through your body. The simple touches make you gasp, drawing a low, satisfied groan from him as he feels the reaction in your body.

His breath catches, lips brushing softly along the sensitive curve of your neck as he pulls you closer. His hands tighten around your waist, and the pleading in his voice intensifies, but there’s no mistaking the hunger in it. He’s holding back, trying to keep his composure.

“Tell me this is a bad idea, Y/N,” he whispers, his lips grazing your skin with kisses. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

Your breath is shallow and you can’t help the way your body reacts to him. The way your hands find their way into his hair, fingers threading through it as you desperately tug on it, unsure of what else to do.

“Please, angel, you have to say no,” he murmurs into your neck, his voice low and desperate.

“Don’t want to,” you whimper, shaking your head again. “Want you, Jaem. Always wanted you. Only you.”

"Fuck..." he groans, his lips trailing away from your skin to look at you.

And what a pretty sight you are. Eyes glazed with lust, pupils blown wide, dilated with something raw and needy. So innocent, so forgiving, so eager – so fucking his. It’s enough to make him painfully hard, though he was already straining. Hearing you say you've always wanted him – and only him – had already sent a rush of heat straight to his cock.

Jaemin can’t help himself. His hand reaches out to caress your cheek again, his thumb teasing the softness of your bottom lip. You gasp, and his pupils darken, fixating on the way your mouth parts, the red colour staining his thumb. It’s everything he’s ever dreamed of—a perfect fantasy.

“You’re gonna get me in so much trouble, gorgeous.”

He’s still hesitating, and you can feel it — you fucking hate it. Something takes over you, and without thinking, you take his thumb into your mouth, deep, sucking hard. Jaemin practically growls, his lips parting as a hiss escapes him from the sight.

A switch flips, and in one smooth, deliberate motion, he yanks his thumb from your mouth, kills the engine, and climbs into the backseat. His eyes are sharp as they focus on you, which tells you to follow suit. He doesn’t care that on paper this is a ‘bad idea’. His cock is telling him it’s the best one he’s ever had.

It’s clear the moment you climb into the backseat, the way his body shifts into something animalistic. You try to settle beside him, but Jaemin doesn’t let that happen. He grips the hem of your shirt, yanking you down and onto his lap. The heat from his body radiates through the thin fabric of your clothes, his chest pressing hard against yours as his hands slide possessively around your waist.

His hands roam down your back and you can feel the hard press of him against your ass. It makes your pulse spike and your sweet red lips fall open for him, making him smirk with pride. His lips trail down to your neck, teeth grazing your skin as he murmurs your name, low and rough.

It’s all-consuming. Hot and desperate. Panting and breathless. Bodies moving in sync. The car heats up from your bodies softly grinding against each other. His hands are everywhere.

“Angel,” he growls, his voice low with restraint, “if you keep grinding on me like that, I won’t be able to stop.”

You bite your lip, keeping your rhythm steady, your hips pressing into his. “Good.”

Jaemin catches a hand around your jaw pulling you away from his lips. “I’m serious, Y/N. Are you sure you want this?”

You nod, your gaze heavy with need.

He shakes his head, “I need words, gorgeous.”

“I want this.”

Such a simple phrase shatters his restraint, unravelling him completely. With a growl, he tosses you onto the back seat, lips trailing hotly down your body until he’s between your legs. His fingertips graze the waistband of your jeans, and he leans in, voice a low whisper.

“Can I?”

You nod, but he shakes his head, his eyes dark with hunger. “Say it.”

“Yes...” You breathe, the word barely escaping your lips, but it’s all he needs.

The jeans slide down your hips and ass, past your thighs, until they’re bunched around your ankles. Jaemin’s eyes flicker down, landing on your panties—darkened with dampness.

"So wet from just a little grinding?" He raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "So fucking cute."

A rush of heat floods your chest. You’ve never done this before. And suddenly, it’s all too much, too fast. His words, your own desperate need, the car, the argument... everything crashes together. Without thinking, you press your legs closed, embarrassed by your body's reaction.

Jaemin's brows furrow as he watches you closely. "You okay?"

Your cheeks burn with a blush, stuttering as you struggle to find your voice. "I-I-uh," you falter, hoping he’ll say it, ask you the question. But he doesn’t. His eyes are fixed on your mouth, waiting for you to say it.

"I’ve never done this before."

Jaemin’s eyes flicker with something dark before he hums lowly. “You still want this?”

You nod, not trusting your voice.

“Words, Y/N.”

“God—yes.”

A satisfied smirk curves on his lips. “Good,” he murmurs. “Your body’s a fucking work of art I’ve been dying to see, and I never want you to feel embarrassed about showing it to me—and only me, yeah?”

This time, you don’t nod. You meet his gaze, voice steady as you tell him, “Yes. Only you.”

He smiles, hands resting on your knees as he gently eases them apart, his gaze fixed on you, completely mesmerized. If someone had told him this was how he’d be celebrating his win tonight, he’d have laughed in disbelief.

But now, his knuckles brush over the front of your underwear, a feather-light touch that sends a spark through you. Your hips react on their own, bucking slightly as his fingertips tease your sensitive nerves through the thin damp fabric.

“You’re so fucking wet.”

He drags his fingers to your waistband, sneaking underneath to run a soft finger up your slit, drawing a gasp from your lips. He takes that as permission to slip the pair down your legs, meeting the same fate as your jeans somewhere in his car.

Jaemin keeps his eyes dead set on you as his fingers work to find your clit. The moment he does, he starts working slow, taunting patterns against it, each movement deliberate and unhurried. The sensation is leg-numbing, sending waves of pleasure through you—so much better than when you do it yourself.

“Tell me how it feels,” he demands, “I wanna know how I’m making you feel. Tell me.”

Your mind is spinning, words slipping through your grasp, and all you can manage is a choked, incoherent moan. It’s not enough for him. Dissatisfied, he sinks his middle finger into your pussy at your silence. You jolt at the intrusion, the feeling intense and foreign, but his eyes stay locked on you, waiting.

“Tell me,” he groans, relishing in the feeling of how tight you grip around his finger.

“F-feels good,” you manage to stammer.

“Yeah?” he taunts, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips as he slowly picks up the pace. “Want more?”

“Yes–” you nod eagerly. He wastes no time, slipping his ring finger inside to join the first, matching the rhythm, savouring the warmth encapsulating around him, and you unravel beneath him.

You watch him through half-lidded eyes, breaths shallow and quick, completely undone from the tortuous pace of his fingers. Jaemin’s expression softens as he takes you in, a quiet, satisfied coo slipping from his lips.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, “So sweet… so vulnerable just for me.”

A low chuckle escapes him as he feels your walls threatening to tense, wanting to flutter around his fingers, and it sends another wave of pride through him. He shifts his eyes down, and without hesitation, takes your clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue in slow, devastating circles.

If he’s going to make you cum for the first time, it’ll be on his fingers and his mouth—he’ll make sure of it.

“S-so good, Jaem—” you gasp, voice trembling as his mouth and fingers work in perfect sync, pushing you closer to the edge.

He hums against you, the vibration sending another jolt of pleasure through your body. “Yeah?” he murmurs, lips still pressed to your skin. “Gonna let go for me, huh? Let me feel it.”

His words, his touch—it’s all too much, and you can feel every nerve on fire as he coaxes you over the edge until you’re cumming from the steady rhythm of his fingers and the relentless, teasing laps of his tongue. You're a shuddering mess beneath him from the orgasm he’s given you.

He fucking loves it, looking in complete awe.

As you start to come down, muffled whines still slip from your lips, riding out the aftershocks of your release.

“What is it?” he prods, his voice smooth but persistent, but all you can manage is a frustrated sigh, annoyed with his stupid teasing tone. “Angel..I don’t know what you want if you don’t tell me.”

"All I want is—" You gasp when he lightly brushes your sensitive clit again,"—your cock."

A smug smirk tugs at his lips. His hand slides to rest possessively on your hip as he moves to hover above you, his gaze locking with yours.

“Are you sure?”

You nod, your lashes fluttering with need, and he takes that as permission to rid himself of his pants, his hand wrapping firmly around the base of his cock. He positions himself carefully, just at the edge of your pussy.

It’s not how you’d pictured your first time—definitely not the romantic, cute scenario you’d always fantasized about. But one thing was certain: Jaemin was here, and that’s all that really mattered. Though, you hadn’t expected him to be this… big.

He picks up on the hesitation in your eyes, sensing the tension coiling tight in your chest.

With deliberate slowness, he slides his length teasingly between your drenched folds, making your breath catch as your nerves tense.

“I’ll take it slow,” he pulls down to murmur against your lips.

You nod, your lip caught between your teeth, biting down hard enough to taste the metallic tang as he presses his tip against your cunt. His other hand grips your hip, his fingers digging in as he applies pressure, holding you in place. He stays perched above you, eyes fixed on your face.

"Keep looking at me," he says, watching the way your face squirms. "Please."

His begging has you fighting to keep your eyes from fluttering shut, staying locked on him as you watch the way his pink lips part, the way they twitch, holding back a moan when he inches forward just enough to feel his tip slip past the threshold.

He pushes forward in a slow, savouring motion, and when he finally sinks into you completely, you stretch around him. Your brows furrow, caught between the sting of pain and the rush of pleasure. His teeth catch his lower lip, holding it there as a low, skin-tingling moan rumbles deep in his chest, his body staying still, giving you a moment to adjust.

“Please move,” you beg, barely able to get the words out, desperation lacing your voice.

He struggles to keep his breathing steady as he watches your face, studying it for any sign of discomfort. Once he’s sure you’re fine, he begins to draw his hips back slowly, his movements deliberate and deep, wrecking you as he rolls his hips forward, filling you again.

Your eyes want to flutter shut, the bliss almost too much to keep conscious but you want to please him. Jaemin pulls you closer, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss, and you moan into it, the sound pulling a breathless, stomach-knotting whine from him.

He increases his pace, and you cry out, your head falling back as your hips begin to meet his. One of Jaemin’s hands tightens around the side of your waist, grounding you as he drives deeper, faster, harder — greedy.

You move feverishly, hips bucking wildly as you try to take him deeper, craving the way his cock stretches you, hitting every nerve with overwhelming pleasure.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he gasps. "Keep looking at me. I wanna see how pretty you look when I’m making you feel good."

You can only respond with a breathless gasp that catches in your throat as he buries himself deeper, rolling against you whilst your nails dig into the fabric on his shoulders.

His hand slips from your hip for a moment, reaching for your fingers to guide them down where your bodies are connected. His fingers curl around yours, bringing your hand to your throbbing clit. You take the hint, fingers moving instinctively to find the sensitive bundle, desperate to ease the tightness building in your abdomen.

"Not gonna last long, angel," he breathes, his voice ragged. "But I need you to feel good."

"Fuck," you whimper. Your hips begin to writhe, chasing the pleasure as every part of your body burns with need.

“So fucking warm and wet and tight,” he groans, forehead slick with sweat.

Your bodies feel like they’re burning, the car steaming up with heat, the windows fogging so thickly that you leave a handprint on the glass as you steady yourself against Jaemin’s building deliberate thrusts.

He’s fucking into you with an erotic urgency, as if he’s trying to spill out every fantasy he’s ever had about you since Jeno introduced you. It’s like he’s remembering, all at once, that he’s broken all the rules—off-limits, bro code—and he doesn’t care anymore. Doesn’t regret it one bit. Because the feel of you on his cock is totally worth it.

Your stomach starts to tremble as warmth floods your lower half, your muscles contracting and fluttering around him. The feeling overwhelms you, and it only encourages him to slow his rhythm, to drag out your orgasm as long as possible.

Jaemin finally caves, moving his face to nuzzle against you. Your hands find his hair, tugging him up so you can kiss along his neck, your lipstick staining his flesh, marking him with that signature red colour.

You keep your hips rolling with his, even after the earth-shattering orgasm he’s just given you. Every cry, whimper, and moan spills from the back of your throat at the force of him, your voice chanting his name in a string of desperate mumbles. Your body convulses and shakes as you clamp around his length, and he grunts at the feeling, whispering praises to coax you through it.

He snaps his hips upward, grinding his body against you to savour the feeling. His muscles begin to shudder, jolting as he gasps for air, his own orgasm hitting him hard.

Hearing and feeling him lost in so much bliss only stretches the aftershocks of your release, both of you a mess of limbs and shameless sounds. Then, you feel him still completely, his release erupting in warm spurts, filling you and making you feel full of him. He’s everywhere—his scent, his kisses, his cum.

You’re left utterly spent, like a limp puddle, but Jaemin stays closely intertwined with you. You both inhale ragged breaths, neither of you daring to break apart. You’re reduced to fluttering glances weak panting and slick skin.

Jaemin’s eyes shift toward the side window, his fingers gently combing through your hair before he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

And when he finally tries to move, there's a sudden clink, and the faint sound of liquid splashing. You both glance down at the Diet Pepsi can now toppled over and spilling its contents all over the car seat. A muffled chuckle escapes Jaemin's lips as he shakes his head.

“That stupid fucking drink,” he mutters with a grin.

“You should be grateful,” you hum, “Without it, we probably would never have fucked.”

Jaemin shakes his head and laughs, but the humour quickly fades as his expression turns serious. He leans in close again, his lips brushing yours.

“Not true,” he murmurs. “I’ve wanted you ever since I met you. I would’ve made a move eventually.”

“Oh yeah?” You tilt your head, teasing him. “What’s been stopping you?”

“Jeno,” Jaemin says quietly, and it’s like it hits you both at once.

Your stomach twists in knots, the mention of your brother, Jaemin’s best friend, suddenly making everything feel... wrong.

“What are we gonna tell Jeno?”

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