#i just think he'd be insane over this concept | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

meshlasolus · 7 months

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Your Beauty Never Ever Scared Me

Dbf!Joel Miller x College!Reader

A/n: Listen… I don’t have any excuse for ditching my other three active series except for tiktok made me do it… That, and the CLM series by @macfrog has ascended me to a new level of crazy and I just needed an outlet for it somewhere. Another shoutout to @theatrelove3000 who keeps putting up with my dbf joel shenanigans, they are indeed insane.

Warnings: girl this whole concept should be a warning but anyways… age gap, some fluff, light smut, uncomfortable situations with readers father… probably some editing mistakes bc ya girl is tired ok its 2am

Please be kind to this chapter, I actually like it, despite the horrors.

Decided on the song ‘Mary On A Cross‘ by Ghost for this one bc it fits ig.

MASTERLIST

Age gap is approximately 15 years or so, reader is over 21 and joel is about 37

"I think I'd probably only slow'ya down," you chuckled, looking to Sarah who seemed to read the displeasure off your face from your dad's offer. "I'm studyin' to be an archeologist, dad. I don't know nothin' about framin' and all that house buildin'..."

Maybe it had been your dad's idea, but he wasn't the one who planted it into his own head. Joel subtly turned to you and cooly uttered a response.

"You could work on interior stuff with me."

It had been almost three days.

You looked out the window to the front of your house repeatedly to try and remember it clearly. The drive home, the kiss, and how abruptly it ended with a promise to see each other around. You thought about it so often you almost wondered if it happened the way you perceived it, if any details had been skewed in your mind simply because you wanted to keep it there, fresh, untouched. Maybe he thought of it differently... but maybe he didn't.

"Did you bring home the stuff I asked ya?" Your dad came into the kitchen with a smile, embracing you with a side hug and turning to help you unpack the groceries.

"Course' I did, Pa," you handed him the bag with the six-pack of bud and the other one full of snacks.

It was the first Rangers game night, and as per tradition, that meant the company of the next-door neighbors. It had been a while since you'd been around to enjoy it, but now that you were back, there were quite a few more reasons why you were on edge to now participate. It would look weird if you came up with an excuse not to be there, and you knew that. You also knrw that you'd gotten into a rather complicated entanglement with your father's closest friend, and weren't sure what the outcome really was.

Had that driveway light not spooked you both apart, and had that little black stray cat not made an appearance, how far would it have gone? Things were pretty heated, but even still. Would he have said something? Maybe along the lines of 'I've known you since you were sixteen, and this isn't appropriate at all.'

You didn't have time to think about it, you were set to work on helping your dad cook dinner for the soon-arriving neighbors. Dinner and a baseball game, once a relaxing and enjoyable time to bond with your dad, now turned into an anxiety fest where you were convinced you'd have to walk on pins and needles around every topic.

"So," your dad piped up from his silence at the stove, stirring the pot of chili he'd been prepping. "Joel told me he gave you a ride 'few nights back."

You knew it was harmless, and that he wasn't asking for any reason, other than that he was probably curious. You hadn't seen Joel in a while, not since two Christmases ago. Your dad had driven up to Dallas to spend both Thanksgiving and Christmas with you last year, and you didn't come home for summer break given an internship opportunity. You must have seemed different to the man in some way. All grown up.

"Yeah, gave me a ride n' saved me at the bar," you chuckled, trying to seem playful and unsuspicious about the encounter.

He seemed to be confused, his brows furrowed and a funny look on his face.

"Whad'ya mean he saved ya?" he of course was continuing to speak all the while dumping his favorite spices into the pot of chili, looking across here and now to keep engaged.

"Just scared off some weirdo who couldn't take no for an answer," you let a sweet and genuine smile fall across your features, but didn't let it get out of hand. Your relationship with your father was airtight, and he could read you pretty damn well. You weren't going to give anything away, not with what was potentially on the line.

"Glad he was there," he replied with a chuckle, sending you a soft glance. "Never thought you'd have grown up so fast, now I gotta carry a shotgun whenever we go places. Fend off the wild beasts."

His jokes were only so funny now, because in this situation, you knew he wouldn't hesitate to shoot Joel if he found out what had happened. All in the nature of protecting you, but it made you sad to think of the situation that way. Joel wasn't just another weirdo following you around at a bar.

"It's only because I'm so pretty," you did your best to respond lightheartedly, making a quip that would soothe the silence. "And I believe that's yours and Mama's fault, givin' me the genes and what not."

You'd finished chopping a nice garden salad by the time the doorbell rang. You ran upstairs to change your shirt to the Jersey your dad bought you for your birthday, claiming it was good luck for the team. Truth be told, you didn't wanna be downstairs when Joel and Sarah got here.

Sarah was here, too. Her, you could easily handle. You were almost hoping that she would be in a rather talkative mood, that way the attention could be swayed to her inconspicuously. You doubted Joel would even try to talk to you, anyway.

"Lovebug, come on down, Millers are here!" Your dad shouted up, even though he saw you run upstairs right when the doorbell rang to change your shirt.

"I'm comin', hold on," you replied sassily while heading for the staircase.

You got to the bottom and had to take a breath before turning the corner into the entryway. Joel stood there with a sweet smile to you, and you tried your best to hold back the one you wore. It was too bright, too happy to see him. All despite your nerves.

You were quickly embraced by Sarah, whom you paid immediate attention to.

"My lordy, girl," you held up your hand by your shoulder to show the height difference, "last time I saw you, you must've been this tall."

"Dad tells me I'm growing like a weed," she tossed a finger over her shoulder to where he was standing, and you gave him a small glance and a smile.

"Us daughters do have a tendency to grow up," you laughed, slinging an arm around Sarah and pulling her along to the kitchen as your dad and Joel did the same behind you.

Why had you been so anxious? Joel is happy to see you. He makes causal conversation with your dad, but he catches your eye every chance he gets. His expression doesn't change, except for the tug of his lips in a smile that's barely there. Joel doesn't smile too often, except apparently when you and Sarah are around.

It doesn't take long for everyone to get situated with their food at the table, playful banter between Joel and your father filling the air as you made less rambunctious chatter with Sarah.

She's doing pretty well since last you saw her. She was always a bright girl, but as she grew it became more apparent that she would probably excel further than anyone in her graduating class. You were sitting across from a future valedictorian, you were sure.

You'd tried to ask her about her out of school interests before your dad interrupted with a question.

"How about you, lovebug?" He watched your eyes flick over to him with a turn of your head. He added context, given you hadn't been listening to them earlier. "Are you gonna look for a summer job?"

You really should, if you're being honest. There's not much work in your aspiring profession located here, but you weren't as lucrative as you used to be, given your educational expenses.

"I've thought about it," you tilted your head back and forth, and your dad seemed to need more from your answer. "I need to earn some cash before I get back to Dallas, but I'm not really sure where to apply."

Sarah seemed to know where this was going before you did. She'd been around the last time your dad was begging Joel to find some help for the contracting team they worked with. But surely your dad doesn't expect you to build houses, does he? Your dream job is to dig holes in the ground, not fill them in and put homes on top.

"We got some spaces to fill, you should come work with us 'few months. The pay's good and you don't have to stay on long, probably just till the end of July."

You gave him a look, and he instantly knew you weren't interested, but you figured you'd try and justify your reasoning. It was an argument either way.

Maybe it had been your dad's idea, but he wasn't the one who planted it into his own head. Joel subtly turned to you and cooly uttered a response.

"You could work on interior stuff with me."

Did he just-?

"S'not much more fun than what your dad's been doin,' but at least it's out of the sun, and easier to learn."

You were almost dumbfounded. Your dad offering you a job that potentially could give you heat stroke with your lack of experience seemed like the worst idea in the world... but working on interior projects? With Joel of all people? Well, that didn't sound so bad.

You didn't want your dad to catch on, of course. Being so protestant of his suggestion, but then falling right into it as soon as Joel was the one to offer would be a dead giveaway to some sort of favoritism to his best buddy. It simply wouldn't look right.

"What kinda interior stuff?"

He smirked. The motherfucker was smirking. He knew you'd changed your mind, but couldn't exactly just come out with it. He understood, but it was still slightly amusing to him.

"Flooring, cabinets, countertops... 's things like that," he explained, knowing you really didn't care what all it entailed. He was still happy to play along. "S'not as fun as archeology, but it pays alright."

You nodded, acting as though you were turning the thoughts over in your head.

"Well, if you're sure I won't mess it up, I'd be happy to try it out," was your final response. You figured it left some leeway in case your father became suspicious, but gave a good enough answer to end the conversation on.

"That's my girl," your dad clapped a hand on your shoulder in excitement. Truth be told he would very much enjoy your presence on a work site. "I'll go ahead and call Eddie in the morning, let 'im know I found someone to replace Charlie for interiors."

It was said more to Joel, you figured, because you didn't really know who either of those people were. He'd nodded to your dad, taking a sip of his beer and then looking back to you. You smiled sweetly, nobody catching it but the one it was meant for.

"Game's gonna start soon," Joel spoke aloud, drawing everyone's eye to the clock over the stove.

Sarah cleared her throat before jumping in on the conversation.

"About that," she looked to her dad with the same puppy dog eyes she used to use against you. He was just as poor at saying no to her when she pulled those bad boys out. "Sammy texted me to ask if it's okay to stay over at her place tonight?"

Joel sighed. He knew that no matter the attempts he made for her to like baseball, it wasn't her thing. It was summer vacation, and he had no reason to say no, so he didn't.

"Is she coming to pick you up?" He began, fishing his keys out of his pocket to drive her if need be. The girl lived five minutes away, he'd be back only a few minutes after the game started, but he didn't really want to leave.

"I can ask her," she pulled her phone back out of her jeans, opened her screen, and checked her messages.

"No need, I can take you," your voice rang out, standing from the table and taking your bowl to the sink. It was a genuine offer, but it was also to get out of the house and process what just happened with the job situation.

Joel was the first one to stand up with you.

"You don't have to-"

"It's fine," you cut him off, leaving no room for discussion. It was lucky he liked you, otherwise, Joel Miller might have put up quite the argument for such a small dilemma. As was his way, of course. He huffed, but accepted he had been overruled.

"Thanks, then." It was mumbled, but there was gratitude in it.

"We gotta hop over to ours real quick and grab my stuff," Sarah told you, waiting for you to return from the kitchen before beginning to head out through the front door. You'd grabbed your keys off where they hung on the wall before going behind her.

"I'll be back soon," you called over your shoulder into the house, and got a chirped 'alright' reply from your dad.

You walked out passed your driveway, seeing the light flicker on as you both went passed the censor on the ground.

"Y'know, I didn't think you'd have caved so fast on that job thing." She had piped up once you were almost to her porch. You found it only slightly funny that she chose the exact topic which had been swirling in your mind since it happened.

"Not sure I really wanna do it, but your dad made it sound better than every time my dad's talked about it, guess he just convinced me," you chuckled, playing it off in a way that she absolutely was about to use against you.

"That's another thing," she turned to you as she backed into the house through the door, only turning once she was inside. "Since when are you friends with my dad?"

She said it in a joking tone, but having known a few things she didn't about interactions that occurred between you and her father, you felt constricted to answer seriously. Probably with a lie if need be.

"I've always gotten along with your dad," you gave her a confused look, accompanied after by a playful smile.

She grabbed her backpack and opened it, checking to make sure she'd taken all the school stuff out before starting to shove things in, her charger, headphones, etc.

"Yeah but... you're just all young and cool and stuff," she shrugged, turning around to walk towards the staircase. "My dad is all old and boring and only talks about baseball."

"Thirty-seven isn't old, babe. My dad is two years from fifty, and I don't even think he's old, yet. Boring? Maybe..." you reasoned, hearing her laugh before she sprinted up the stairs, giving you time to think of some answers before she asked any more questions. Had she really caught onto you that fast? You didn't think you'd acted noticeably. If Sarah was able to see it, then maybe your dad did, too. You needed to be more careful, in that case.

Sarah returned a few minutes later, her backpack now stuffed and her pillow under her arm. You nodded out the door and headed back to your driveway to open the door for her, seeing as though her hands were full.

The drive after Sarah had been dropped off felt so much longer. Maybe it was just your thoughts, or maybe you consciously drove slower to avoid getting home too quickly. Your dad was waiting, but above that, Joel was there, too. Probably sitting back on the leather couch, relaxing with his feet kicked out on the floor. He usually leaned onto the armrest with his elbow, and held his face against the hand it supported. You'd noticed it years ago. He only ever spoke up when your dad did, usually in reply to him.

He was content simply watching the game in the presence of a friend. It was endearing.

When you pulled into the driveway, you had come up with an excuse to not remain downstairs for the duration of the game. It was too risky, and you weren't apparently as good with self-control as you'd thought you were.

You went inside and hung up your keys on the hook, immediately passing the living room on the way to the stairs.

"Hey, lovebug, you missed the top of the first," your dad called. He knew you liked baseball, so if you were to lie and say you didn't want to watch, he'd know something was up.

"Y'know, pa, I think I'm just gonna watch it upstairs, I forgot I still got some stuff to unpack," you peaked your head into the room to respond, and saw that Joel, just as you had pictured, was sitting in his most usual position on the couch, feet out on the floor, arm up with a hand holding the side of his face.

"Can't you do it later?" Your dad pleaded, but you knew, seeing as how your father occupied the recliner, you would have no where else to sit but on the floor or next to Joel. You didn't trust yourself with that.

"I could, but I might fall asleep if I wait too long."

He sighed, throwing an arm in your direction and shooing you away. He wasn't annoyed, but he'd admit he missed watching these games with you. It had been like a tradition, but if Sarah wasn't here either, he wasn't gonna make you stick around.

"Sure you don't wanna stick around? We could use your lucky jersey down here," Joel piped up, lifting his face from his hand and giving you a pair of soft eyes. That was exactly the reason you would not be staying. He didn't even realize how much he affected you, but you'd make sure he did at some point. Maybe you could just tease him a little.

"You're right, it would be a shame to take the lucky jersey with me."

You walked behind your dad's chair, out of his sight, and tauntingly stripped the jersey over your head, revealing the tight black tank top beneath it, just like that night at the bar. Joel's jaw clenched and his eyes turned darker, even under the bright light of the flatscreen in the living room. You never took your eyes away from his as you slung him the jersey.

"Hey pa, can I get you anything from the kitchen before I go upstairs?" You leaned over the back of his recliner, looking at him upside down. He chuckled and shook his head, trying to move your hair from obstructing his vision.

"We're all good, lovebug," he spoke in addition to his physical response, his laughter dying down as you stood back up. "Come on down if you change your mind."

"I'll probably be down later," you spewed a half-lie. You weren't sure if you would be or not, especially if Joel was still lurking in the living room.

You gave those brown eyes one last look before heading straight upstairs.

You grabbed your remote and flicked on the TV. It was already on the right channel, so you tossed the remote aside onto your bed and flopped back into it. You didn’t actually have anything left to unpack, but they would never have known.

Your phone buzzed beside you, and you lifted the screen to your face to see a text from an unsaved number:

Missin you down here…

You’d never put Joel in your contacts, because in highschool, your friends thought it was weird to even text or call him regularly, but you had his number for years, always just as a backup. You’d known it by heart, now, and nearly had it memorized back then, too, for the times you needed his help.

I’d come back if there was an open seat.

A bit sassy of a response, maybe, but you were hoping he’d understand the hidden meaning behind it… Although, Joel didn’t usually pick up on those things very easily.

Open seat right next to me

Yeah, that’s why I’m up here…

You huffed, realizing it wouldn’t be that easy. The three little dots indicating his next response was on the way slightly nerved you. Maybe he took the last text you sent the wrong way. You didn’t mean it to sound badly.

What’s that supposed to mean?

Means that I can’t keep my hands to myself.

You quickly rectified the situation, although you might have gone too far. He was taking far too long to answer, now. The little dots that before nerved you would now be your saving grace if it meant he would just fucking respond, already. You dropped the phone on your chest, raising up and down in a scattered rhythm while you wiped your hands over your face. Your phone vibrated over your shirt and you immediately opened it.

I can’t either. Stay up there.

You breathed out a sigh of relief. He was thinking the same things you were, and likely was under more stress for it, given he sat right across from your dad, responding to his comments about the game here and there. Your dad had no idea what was happening right under his nose.

Wasn’t thinking about leavin.

This little back and forth went on, the majority of the game, in fact. It was more-so about the plays then on, because you didn’t have anyone to talk to up here.

Joel thought it a bit funny, your dad would say something oddly specific about one of the players, and then you’d text him right after saying the exact same thing. You’d been a product of watching baseball with your old man for just about ever.

“I’m thinking about gettin’ some tickets over the summer for a game or two. They’re always cheaper in them group packages, you n’ Sarah should come along,” your dad was barely paying any attention to the words he spoke, but they came flowing out anyway, clear and cool. “Could be fun.”

Joel knew that there was only so much group interaction he could handle with you, and you with him. It stands to why you’re upstairs, an he’s down here, fist wrapped tightly around your lucky jersey. All out of your father’s sight, of course.

“It could be. Don’t think Sarah’s much for baseball anymore, though.”

He’d hoped that your dad would drop it. Halfway through his third beer, he hoped the man was a little more than tipsy, and maybe didn’t even mean the words he was saying.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t still tag along,” your dad was definitely still sober enough to keep it up, although the way he spoke became slower. Maybe he was getting sleepy.

“I’ll think about it.”

His response was followed by a hum, then a lull of silence that endured the rest of the game. He sat all the while and thought about his predicament a bit more.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you. It was insane… like you’d leeched yourself to the inner workings of his mind and he wouldn’t be able to pull you off without hurting himself, too. You were just upstairs, and had been texting him. You were within his vicinity, and yet… so unreachable.

He’d wished for you to be down here, or for him to be up there with you. Obviously, that wouldn’t go too well with the man sitting next to him, but he’d be asleep soon. If he could just touch you again, just kiss you one more time, maybe his cravings would be satisfied and he could go about his days… but what would happen if he kept feeling the addictive urge to do more? What if he was never satiated enough to quit you?

The game was called, and you’d texted him a small ‘victory’ at seeing the Rangers had won.

It was wrong, and the presence of his friend beside him was a constant reminder that you were his kid, and he would have a final say. Even though you were an adult, he understood this was completely taboo, and you should be off with guys your own age... but he’s made up his mind about the thoughts spinning in his head.

He didn’t respond, though. Your dad stood up out of his chair, his arms stretching outwards with a loud yawn as he took a few steps forwards, clapping his hand down on Joel’s shoulder.

“I hate to kick you out…” your father joked, a low and tired chuckle under his words.

“It’s alright, I got some stuff to sort out anyway.”

They started making their way towards the door when light but fast footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs.

Joel turned quickly, a smile on his lips and in his eyes when he saw you trying to catch your breath after sprinting down here.

“Leavin’ already?”

They both laughed heartily. As if Joel hadn’t been here almost three hours, most of which you spent upstairs. Your heart was beating far too fast for your liking, but there didn’t seem to be a way to stop it. Now that you were present again, in the room with him, you didn’t know what else to do.

“Your dad’s half asleep as it is, if I stay any longer I’ll send ‘im into hibernation,” Joel’s response made you giggle softly, although you withheld most of the laughter, because in all honestly, it wasn’t that funny, and you needed to learn to control yourself.

“He’ll be over next week, we’ll talk about gettin’ you into that job.”

You nodded, turning back to Joel as your dad opened the front door. What were you supposed to do? You couldn’t hug him, could you? That’s too much… maybe just wave, or maybe-

He held his hand out… for you to shake it. A hand-shake. Yeah, sure, fine.

You shook it, but he pulled you in half way, tapping your back once and then letting go.

He just bro hugged you. This man just-

He turned and did the same to your dad, giving you one last glimpse as he stepped out the door. Your dad closed it behind him and you were almost clean out of words to say. That had to have been the strangest interaction you’ve had.

“I’m beat, love-bug. I’m gonna head to bed,” he slung an arm around your neck and kissed the top of your head before turning and going down the hall to the stairs. “Don’t be up too late.”

“I won’t, just got a few things to do.”

You waited approximately ten more seconds before running to the garage door, going as quickly and as quietly as you could through to your front yard. Joel was still on his porch when you got out there, but was about to go inside.

You ran out to the sidewalk in font of his house and called out to him, all the while still barefoot.

“Hey Miller,” you crossed your arms, watching him turn around and lean in one direction. “Did you just bro-hug me? Or did I imagine that?”

He stepped closer to the edge of the porch, leaning against one of the wooden beams closest to him.

You slowly walked up to him, tilting your head to side as you observed his stance. he looked rather good. Hair tousled, body adorning a black t-shirt and some dark jeans. He was a sight, even in the dark light of the neighborhood.

“I reckon I oughta’ try again?”

"Seems like the fair thing to do."

“You’re takin’ your sweet time, baby,” he irked, grabbing gently under your elbow and pulling you up onto to porch once you were close enough.

You smiled to him, and wrapped your arms round his neck, over his broad shoulders. He pulled you close, tucking a head into your shoulder. The anxiousness you felt before fell apart, the rapid beating of your heart slowed, because you were comfortable. You felt immense peace in his arms like you’ve never felt before.

He backed away too soon, but still kept you relatively close to him.

“Was that better?”

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

There was a moment of silence, of contemplation, but it wasn’t stiff, and it wasn’t awkward. It was just there, a nice and pleasant quiet, and you standing still with Joel Miller on his porch.

“You wanna come inside a while?”

Sarah wasn’t home, and wouldn’t be till morning. Your dad was probably passed out in bed by now, leaving the opportunity completely open. You had nothing to lose, no risk to be had.

“Yeah, I think I will.”

He didn’t let you go, he just walked you both backwards until he was able to reach the door, reaching with one hand to open it before stepping slightly to the side to allow you entrance first.

“Ever the gentlemen,” you smiled, walking inside before he followed you in.

“Gotta make up for all that nonsense earlier,” he closed the door, taking your hand and walking to the kitchen. He pulled out a stool at his counter and let your hand fall to your side as he made his way to the fridge.

He pulled out two beers and uncapped them with the tool hanging on the side of his fridge. You think you remember your dad buying it for his birthday one year. You can remember sitting in this exact seat many times before, actually. Never alone, though. Never just you and Joel, and nobody else near.

He slid you one beer an you smiled at him in thanks, taking a sip.

“Last time you had one of these, I didn’t know if you liked it or not,” he gestured to his own bottle, drinking some and setting it down on the counter.

“I don’t know, I think it’s growing on me.”

He looked straight to you, leaning both hands on the edge of the counter. You leaned forward, mimicking his more stern face of features before he said anything else.

“I didn’t wanna say so with your dad around, but you look awful pretty tonight,” he spoke the compliment smoothly, but he had to drop his head after he said it. Seemed that giving you compliments alone in the night was something of a struggle for him, since he was blushing still even when he looked back to you.

“I seem to be feelin’ a lot prettier as of late whenever I’m around you. Think you’re just good for my self esteem,” you paused, leaning back onto the stool to take a drink of your beer. “That, or it's just nice to be complimented by a handsome guy like yourself.”

He didn’t seem to believe you. His scoff was loud and heard immediately after your compliment returned to him.

“You think I’m handsome?”

He’d always thought he was average. Maybe even slightly below. As he got older, that notion grew until he felt that maybe he was beyond trying for a woman on behalf of his looks. Perhaps there were women from time to time that would agree to a date, but there were none since Sarah’s mom who actually stuck around, not until you… but you were different as far as relationships go, because technically, you shouldn’t even be considering one with him.

“Absolutely, I do. Why wouldn’t I?” You were curious, because he was clearly attractive. Maybe you’d spent too much time around the more traditionally preferred young men in dallas, but something about Joel intrigued you that never did with anyone else. Maybe it was the forbidden aspect of what you two were doing, but before that, it was something else. He was rough and rugged, and good looking in a mature way that the boys your age couldn’t mimic if they tried. Those dark brown eyes with little crows feet at the edges every time he smiled were a dead give away to his age, but it was so appealing somehow.

“Don’t know. Guess I’m just old,” he spoke, trying to hide the insecurities that phrasing brought about. He was too old for you, he shouldn’t be sitting here with you you alone and calling you pretty, and yet…

“Maybe that’s a good thing. Too many boys my age are still very immature these days.” And it was very much true. Too young, too immature, and too stupid to see what’s in front of them and really appreciate it. Older men have a tendency to take care of the things they have, because they know that with time they can lose them.

“That so?”

“Mhm.”

“They don’t even realize what their missin’ out on, do they?”

You shook your head in reply. Nope. Not a single one of the younger guys you’ve dated has treated you with the care you know he could. He’s always treated you with care, before… why would that change now?

“They probably figure there’s a million girls linin’ up after me that they can take a shot at,” you raised your eyebrows and drank some more. Maybe it was just a thought of some past experiences, but this beer was tasting better and better to you.

“I pity them,” he said nonchalantly, without really thinking about it.

“Who, the girls? I mean, I kinda feel bad, but other times, I think we all know what we’re getting ourselves into n’ we just try to ignore the red flags.”

It was meant as a joke, but he was being genuinely serious.

“No, the guys. I pity ‘em.”

“Oh, do you?”

“I do,” he nodded, thinking of the right words to say. “They lost you, didn’t they? Biggest mistake of their lives and they didn’t even know. Pity ‘em just for that.”

You didn’t know what to say. You figured the wide smile you wore was doing a fine enough job, but he wasn’t looking like he had anything else to voice yet.

“You think I’m somethin’ special, Joel Miller?”

He set his bottle down on the counter and walked around it to stand right in front of your barstool. He took both your hands and pulled them to his chest, just holding them there and looking to you with the sweetest expression you’ve ever seen from him. He’s so different than what you remember in your earlier years. He used to be so stoic and serious. Sometimes even a little grumpy. Guess time changes things.

“I wouldn’t be gettin’ myself into sum’ this crazy if I thought anything else,” he mumbled it almost, but he definitely meant it. His words rang true in every aspect of the implications they made. This was crazy, it was very unlikely in the first place, but even still, it was happening. Neither of you backed down, neither of you said no.

“If it helps, I happen to think you’re pretty damn special, too.”

He didn’t respond, just leaned closer towards you, nudging his nose against yours, before letting your lips meet in a kiss. it washed rushed and hazy like the last time. It wasn’t forceful or fast or anything of that sort. It was gentle, and it was meaningful. All the years he’d known you, but never like this. You knew this attraction was new, but it was still real. You wondered how many women pined after him over the years, only for you to now gage his attention when clearly no one else did. The man’s been single since Sarah’s mom left, and otherwise, you didn’t know him to be much of a ‘dating around’ kinda guy. Standing here with him, now, you felt such excitement in knowing he’d pursue you, the off limits woman, over anyone else. It was a true victory, or at least you thought so, sitting on a stool in his kitchen while he kissed you softly, his thumbs going over the backs of your hands that still lingered in his.

When the kiss broke, you inhaled deeply, the scent of him so close to you, surrounding you. He was like a warm blanket you just pulled out of the dryer. He was comforting, and soft, and his skin was currently hot to the touch. You could only hope that you had something to do with that.

“Baby,” he breathed, hands letting go of yours and finding a new home at your waist. You left your hands on his chest, feeling his heart rate fluctuating. “Gotta know something before this goes any further…”

You hummed in response, still trying to even your breath intake. He backed away a few inches to be able to look you in the eyes correctly. He’d spent enough time with you in the past to know if you were telling the truth, and he was going to use it just this once to his advantage.

“What we’re doin’, you sure you’re okay with it?” He knew better than to jump into this without clarification. “Don’t want you feelin’ pressured if you’re not.”

“I want this,” you spoke softly, just loud enough that he could hear. “Promise.”

You had thought you’d been the instigator to this, if memory serves you correctly. Even still, you know now that whatever happens, he won’t take it somewhere you don’t want it to go. This show of good faith was something you could put trust in him over. He’s a good one, you always knew that.

And again his lips were on yours, differently this time. It was a bit more hasty and fervent like the first time, but there was still something different from then that you couldn’t quite decipher.

You absent-mindedly opened your legs and he instantly came between them, letting your bodies become flush with one another. His hands ran up and down your sides, every once and a while dipping to your hips and somewhere below on your thighs.

There was a heat between them that you didn’t realize was there until he came so close to touching it. He never actually did, though, and you were both endeared by and upset about it. He was the one making that heat spread, he can’t just leave it there… but he’s testing his limits, and you think it’s respectful that he is.

He doesn’t want to cross any lines… as if this entire entanglement has not already done that. This situation in every sense of the definition, has crossed the line. Him hugging you that tightly on his porch, him inviting you in after dark when it’s only you and him alone, having a beer with some very personal conversation, and now making out with you in his kitchen. They all crossed the line of what should happen between a man and his best friend’s daughter.

“Tell me to stop,” he mumbled against your mouth, almost as if reading your mind. His hand on your thigh drifted between your legs, just barely caressing the heated pool sitting there, waiting for him. It was still very reserved, and you had to buck against his hand for more friction, but at least it was something.

The taste of him somehow made it worse, the feeling growing inside you without an end in sight. The arousal was evident, but you weren’t sure he would be able to do anything about it, yet. You could tell it was weighing on his mind, what was okay for him to do, and what wasn’t. You would beg him if you had to, you just needed more.

He had an idea, one that could allow both of you to explore this dynamic easier, and one that could potentially keep him from overstepping like he was afraid to.

He removed his hands only for a minute, bringing yours up and over his shoulders before he settled his back down below your ass.

“Hold on,” he told you, lifting you from the seat and walking until he got to the living room. From there, he let the space guide him until the back of his knees hit the edge of the couch. He sat almost abruptly, and when you relaxed your weight onto him, you felt the stirring between his legs as well. You moaned into his mouth at the mere size and feeling of it, beginning to slowly grind down onto him. He encouraged your movements, and used his hands to guide your hips as you went, back and forth, getting into a rhythm.

“That’s it, baby,” he praised, tearing himself away for a moment to expel his breath from his lungs at the new feeling. Your head fell against his, and suddenly it was the movement of your lower half taking you over.

He let his hands move over your body a bit more freely, now, but still careful not to make any harsh movements, or grab in places he felt he shouldn’t linger too long. He knew you wanted this, but something inside him questioned how comfortable you really felt… that was until you started doing the same, roaming his body with your delicate touch, making him feel like the most important man in the world. You could have sworn you marked the exact moment he snapped, rolling his hips upwards into yours shamelessly. It was so deliciously addicting, the feeling of his body pleasing yours, and vice versa. His rough and sturdy hands, though still gentle, ravished any part of you available to him.

The air between you was hot and thick, and you could swear that by breathing it in, you were drawing even more arousal into your body.

The motions kept going until there was a quickening of pace brought on by you both simultaneously. You couldn’t mark a distinction of when it increased, you just knew that the speed you were going wasn’t where you started. All you could think of was that your spend was fast approaching, and you wondered if his was, too.

“Gettin’ close,” you murmured, barely able to get the words out for the moans that slipped passed your lips. “M’gonna…”

He heard you, and understood. Truth be told, he’d started getting hard since that moment on the porch, so this was just nothing but sweet relief to him. He kept on, trying to meet you at your finish.

“Let go , baby.”

You had no qualms about being told twice when it came to him. You gave it up easily, the muscles in your body contracting when you felt the wash of utter ease through every inch of you. He tensed beneath you, but relaxed with a groan of relief right after, and you could feel his length twitch in his jeans.

You just dry-humped Joel Miller on his couch. Like a horny teenager. What the fuck.

The dawn of realization was cut short by his hand softly coercing the back of your neck, bring your lips back for him to claim as he did earlier. Soft, and gentle, no rush, no heat. Just that feeling between you both that started this mess.… and it was indeed a mess.

“You wanna stay over?”

Tags (open):

@justanothersadperson93 @moonchild-warrior @hopplessilse @brittmd115 @michilandcof @untamedheart81 @just-someone-broken @joelalorian @xybil @yvonneeeee

If i tagged you wrong, or you want to be taken off at any time, just lmk!!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel the last of us #dbf!joel miller x reader #dbf! joel miller #joel miller age gap #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal

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morgana-ren · 10 months

Note

How would you feel about the concept of self aware!Bailey who slowly becomes obsessed with the person controlling the PC?

Oh shit, that's actually brilliant. Like, he's known PC their entire lives, but suddenly they develop an entirely new personality, presumably much different than the one they had before. Suddenly, they're extremely competent, or intelligent, and they're certainly attracting attention that they weren't before. Obviously, it's his business to know things, so he starts paying extra attention. Acutely studying things that happen. And it seems like their moves are almost calculated. Some moments, he starts to notice, seem like they last ages. They can change their attitude at will. Sometimes, it's like they know what's going to happen before ever does. Like they've lived it before.

When he tries to deviate from his routine, it seems like something won't allow it. Baily is a canny guy. Enough of a change and he'd figure something out.

You enter the orphanage, only to run smack into Bailey. He glares at you for a moment before grabbing your shoulders. You flinch, thinking he's going to hurt you, but all he does is stare into your eyes for a moment before releasing you.

He leaves without a word.

+ Stress

It starts to drive him a little crazy. There's something he can't put his finger on; something he can't control. The more he thinks about it, the more it seems like his life tends to revolve around the PC. He knows he interacts with other people-- he has memories of doing it. But it seems like he's never actually doing it. Only knows that he has.

How are they getting all this money, anyway? His demands are purposefully outrageous. They are making more money than most people in the entire town and have some to spare. No one is that good at surviving here.

No one. Unless they're cheating somehow.

Someone enters your room. It's Bailey.

"Time to pay up." You hand him the money, and he cards through it for a moment, seemingly counting it out. There's a strange look on his face, and he looks at you with suspicion.

"How'd you get this?" He holds it up accusingly.

You stare at him with confusion on your face. He's never cared how you got it before. In fact, he deliberately avoids asking.

You don't answer.

He snarls and leaves, slamming your door shut as he does.

It hits him one day. As insane as it sounds, he understands. Everything fits a little too perfectly.

He doesn't tell a soul. He doesn't want to end up in Dr. Harper's care.

Or would this place even allow him to tell anyone? Would Harper even have protocol for that, or would they just stare at him lifelessly like they tend to do sometimes?

Bailey gives you a creepy stare— and yet, it seems he's looking right through you. Almost something behind you. You peer behind yourself, and there's nothing.

"I know you're there," is all he says before returning to his paperwork, dismissing you without an explanation.

It gives you the chills.

+ Stress

He's left irritated, but more than that, he's curious. What is it you want? Do you get off on this? Watching this wretched little shithole suffer?

What does this have to do with PC? Why did you take over them? Why are you helping them?

You're not a God-- he's relatively sure of that. But you have enough power to get this little orphan out of trouble. Enough foresight to keep them safe and somewhat healthy.

What do you want? Why do you let it all happen?

...Or is this what you want?

Bailey drags you to his office. You aren't sure what you've done. You've paid him, and that's usually all he cares about.

Once you're inside, he locks the door, slamming you against it with a hand on your throat. Again, he's not quite looking at you. It's somehow more unnerving than if he was glaring.

+ Stress

"What do you want?" He snarls, baring teeth at you.

You don't understand what he means. You try to respond, but only wheezing breaths escape you as he clenches your neck.

+ Willpower

"Why are you doing this?" He hisses, squeezing harder. You feel bruises forming.

+ Pain + Arousal

He holds you like that for a moment, quaking in anger, before he suddenly releases you in a moment of clarity.

"Get out. I don't expect you to have the answers."

You scramble through the door holding your throat, not wanting to give him another chance to attack you.

W̴h̵a̵t̷ ̵t̵h̷e̶ ̵h̷e̶l̷l̶ ̸w̷a̴s̸ ̴t̶h̸a̷t̵ ̶a̴b̶o̴u̷t̸?̴

Once he notices it, it's impossible to ignore. They win every competition. Commit crimes but evade the police. They can do things with such ease that it's unnatural.

He can't see you, but he knows you're there. Knows you're watching. You're aware of his presence and now he's aware of yours.

Maybe that's it. Maybe you're a voyeuristic little whore. A talented one, but still a whore.

Perhaps you get off on this. Is that it? You like watching? Or do you live vicariously through his orphan somehow? Maybe that's what it is.

Maybe you wish it was you.

You wake up with a start to find B̷̤̹́̿a̸̮͈̗͗i̶͎̳͈̽̈́l̵̙͚̈́͝e̴̱̓̏͝ÿ̴̮̝̼́͋͝ climbing on top of you. You try to scream, but he claps a hand over your mouth.

"I know you want this. Don't you? Is that what this is about?"

You can't speak with his hand still clamped over your face, but something tells you it doesn't matter. There's something about his eyes that terrifies you. You feel him hard and throbbing in his slacks, but again, he ï̷̩̠s̵̲̠̒̐n̴͚̜̓'̴̹͕̈t̸̛̮̓ ̵̦̫͐͘q̶̗́͑u̴̝͋̐i̷̝̅̄͜t̶̢̥́́ë̷̝͍́ ̵̯͂l̴̋͜o̷͙͎̚ǒ̸̻̻̈k̴͇͎̊̂i̷̛̪͒n̴̳͂̽g̵̖̏ ̴̦̌a̵̤̟͌ẗ̸͔̞́ ̵̝͇̀̅y̶͉̹̑o̸͇̝͊̌ụ̶̹͐̆.

Your sense of control cracks.

He rips at your clothes, tearing your pajamas to shreds. His left hand pulls down his slacks. His right hand holds you down.

+ Trauma

+ Stress

+ Arousal

He looks eager. He looks aroused. He looks incredibly pissed off. He looks {n̷̺̤͘u̷͙̎ͅl̶̰̈́ḷ̴͖̈́̓}

He can't touch you, but he can touch them all over. That's what you want, isn't it?

He wouldn't have looked twice at them before. Even now, something inside of him fights. Tells him no. A voice that isn't his. Something trying to control his movements. Control his thoughts. Control him.

Oh, no. He doesn't fucking think so. But if you can get in here, he can get out. He's aware, and he knows that wasn't mean to happen. But now that he is, he just needs some time. Some time to prod at the fraying seams of reality to find a crack.

No, he can't touch you.

Y̶̩̰̋ė̸̥̗͑t̶̻̆.̶̛̫͙̍

#morgana and friends #degrees of lewdity #bailey the caretaker #dol bailey #Just a goofy lil thang #Love the concept #he's so aloof and doesn't give a shit #what if he found out that was a manufactured feeling #he isn't even in power here #YOU are #and power is attracted to power #oooh you gunna get it when he figures out how to get out of this place #the laws of his reality are made up #maybe yours are too #you have power here #but maybe he has power *out there*

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catsteinbooks · 7 months

Text

The Thin Dark Duke of Hell

Haven't actually written a meta before, but I've been mulling this around in my head, so here's my take on why I think Crowley is likely to be a Duke of Hell in season 3.

Reason 1: it makes narrative sense

From a story-telling perspective, it's the logical starting place for season 3. Especially if we consider how the original idea was developed as a sequel to the book.

There's no body-swap in the book. Neither Aziraphale nor Crowley has heard from "their sides" at the end, so technically they're still connected to Heaven and Hell. They haven't been punished or kicked out. They even speculate that maybe everyone will just pretend it didn't happen.

And now we're approaching the Second Coming. The Big One. "All of us against all of them." Where are our heroes? Well, time has passed, things have happened. It's reasonable to think that maybe they've both been promoted. (Crowley, in particular, is often getting promotions, usually for things he didn't do.) And story-wise, they're set up as opposite numbers, so it makes sense that their positions as the sequel story begins will be of similar status.

Applying this concept to the screen version, we know Aziraphale has been offered the Supreme Archangel position. Therefore, if Crowley is to be his counterpart, he has to have a high rank in Hell. And there's a Duke of Hell opening to be filled. (Sorry, Shax, I think Crowley's going to snatch it out from under you.)

Reason 2: it fits Crowley's character

"What?!" you shout. "Crowley hates Hell! He turned them down! He doesn't want to go back!"

Correct. He doesn't. But he will if he thinks he needs to. Because he and Aziraphale have a huge, defining commonality: they love Earth and Humanity and don't want it to be destroyed.

Yeah, Crowley will probably wallow for a while. He deserves some time to get insanely drunk and cry. Sort of like he did when he thought Aziraphale was dead in season 1. But the thing is, Crowley always comes back. He's always ready to run. He always threatens to run. He hops in his car and drives somewhere. But he never actually leaves. Because there's no point in going away somewhere without Aziraphale. And that hasn't changed. If Crowley ran away now, he'd still be miserable, but without any music or whisky or his Bentley. It would be... pointless.

So what's a heartbroken, grieving, furious demon to do? Vent his pain in the best possible way: thwarting everyone and everything who hurt him and took away the angel he adores. He knows what Heaven is planning, because he saw it in Gabriel's file. He doesn't want Earth destroyed, he doesn't want Heaven or Hell to win. And he has an opportunity to sabotage the whole thing from the inside.

Which leads us to...

Reason 3: Crowley has a way into Hell already

There is a great meta here about Crowley's conversation with Beelzebub in Hell and its potential season 3 impact. The TL;DR version is: Crowley DID technically find Gabriel, and Beelzebub promised him anything he wanted (including being a Duke of Hell) in return.

Is it a somewhat dubious contract? Sure. Would that stop Crowley? *snort laugh* The demon who makes up legal clauses on the spot to save humans is well-equipped to argue his way into Hell's highest position in order to save the entire world. It's probably much easier than driving a flaming Bentley all the way to Tadfield.

So where does this leave us?

Aziraphale is up in Heaven, ready to burn it to the ground. You saw him when the Metatron mentioned the Second Coming. That was not a happy angel ready to do what he's told. And, frankly, Aziraphale is not actually capable of doing what he's told IMO. No matter how much he tries to follow the good/evil dynamic, he ultimately ends up choosing what is Right over what is Good.

Crowley in Hell would be doing the same kind of thing, albeit in a more subtle, sneaky way. After all, he spent 6000 years thwarting Hell all over the place and getting away with it the vast majority of the time. He knows how to mess with them. (And can you just imagine what would happen when demons like Eric asked him questions and he answered them?! He could gather his own little army with one Suggestion Box.)

So when shit hits the fan, as it inevitably will, we'll be left with both our ineffable heroes (gn) poised to do the exact same thing: destroy the machine from the inside.

Even if some of the other fan speculations prove true (memory wipes, for instance), I think it still makes narrative sense to have them both in equal-but-opposite positions. Because no matter how much the enemies are trying to mess with them, if you take a certain angel with an opportunity to fuck up Heaven and a certain demon with an opportunity to fuck up Hell and you bring them together (which, let's be honest, has to happen no matter what the storyline is), it's going to be pretty darn epic.

#good omens 2 #go2 #good omens #good omens speculation #good omens season 3 #good omens 3 #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow

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poguesofthebau · 8 months

Text

microscope, part two

read part one here :) summary: you and steve had just enough privacy to have an actual relationship, but your friends still didn't fully understand your boundaries. slowly but surely, their tendency to barge in started to drive you insane.

word count: 6.5k pairing: steve harrington x fem!henderson!reader tags: @nix-rose-q @anea08

"seriously, y/n. all i'm saying is that i think you'd really love d&d if you gave it a try. don't knock it 'til you try it!"

you scoffed from your place in the driver's seat of the car, throwing your brother a dubious look as you took a right turn. there was only about another minute left of your ride home from school, and you'd been bickering the entire time about your steadfast refusal to learn and/or play dungeons and dragons. "dustin, our lives are like an actual game of d&d. fighting demogorgons and the mind flayer and vecna might be a cool concept in theory, but i think experiencing it in the flesh kind of ruins the fun."

although he didn't notice until after he was done talking, dustin's response was mostly lost on you. you'd been listening intently at first, fully prepared to carry out the lighthearted debate to its end, but the familiar brown bmw that suddenly appeared in your rearview mirror quickly took precedent over bickering with your little brother. you found yourself donning a giddy smile at steve's impressive timing-- he'd opened family video that morning and worked until 2, giving himself just enough time to stop back at his house to shower off the smell of vhs tapes and strangers before meeting you at your house as soon as he possibly could-- and almost running the last stop sign on the route to your house to get to see him faster. you took the final turn into your driveway a little fast, slightly jerking dustin around in the passenger seat as he made his concluding points about the joys of playing d&d. it was only when he looked at you to see what had caused the harsh turn that he realized you hadn't been listening to him at all, and before he could question it, steve was pulling into the driveway behind you.

"jesus christ," dustin remarked dramatically. "you gave me whiplash because steve is here? you saw him yesterday!" you spared a brief moment to stick your tongue out at dustin in a childish response before swinging open your car door and seeking out the boy you'd been waiting all day to see.

you'd slipped into steve's arms as soon as you wriggled out of the car, ignoring your brother's groan as you greeted your boyfriend. dustin made a few disapproving comments as he ascended the stairs to your house, not bothering to offer his older friend an actual greeting before heading inside. waiting until you heard the click of your front door shutting behind the boy before releasing steve, you leaned up to peck him on the lips a few times.

"hey, baby," steve said contentedly, leaning in again to kiss you on the cheek as you smiled up at him.

"hi, stevie."

once you'd been greeted sufficiently, he reached into the backseat and retrieved your backpack, slinging one of its straps over his shoulder and sliding his opposite hand into yours. from there, you guided him into your house, only pausing on the walk to your room to call out a warning to dustin, who was now in the kitchen searching for an after-school snack. "do not come in my room. for anything. don't even knock. got it?"

"ick," he said, making a disgusted face at you over the fridge door. "like i want to know what the two of you do behind closed doors."

and with that, you escaped into your room, steve discarding your bag and his keys by the door and immediately climbing into your bed as you changed into sweats. once you were redressed, you crawled under the comforter with him, shifting around for a few moments before finally settling into the perfect position for doing absolutely nothing.

the peaceful bliss lasted all of twenty minutes.

you laid with your head tucked under steve’s chin and his arms wrapped securely around your waist, eyes closed in content as you listened to the older boy describe his day at work. you weren’t falling asleep to his voice, but the sound was distancing you from the day’s previous challenges. that was the thing about steve: he didn’t need to try, but he always remedied a bad day, or brightened a dull one, or calmed a chaotic one.

he was in the middle of a story about his worst customer of the day when the sound of the doorbell ringing through your house interrupted him. your closed bedroom door kept the noise from being too loud, but it was enough of a distraction to make him pause and look to you as you cracked your eyes open in annoyance. "dustin will get it. go ahead, keep talking," you insisted when your eyes met steve's. he nodded, fighting a smile of adoration as he watched you nuzzle a little closer to him and close your eyes again.

just as he inhaled and opened his mouth to continue, the doorbell rang again, three times in a row. a low noise escaped from the back of your throat-- steve would later refer to the sound as a growl-- and flipped over in steve's arms to face your bedroom door. "dustin, get the door!" you yelled, knowing the boy could hear you at that volume regardless of where he was in the house. you hesitated then, making sure the doorbell wasn't going to ring again before looking at steve over your shoulder. "it would be a god damn shame if, after everything we've survived, i was driven to murder dustin over a doorbell."

"i don't think anyone would blame you," steve joked. "anyway, it's probably just a girl scout or something. but i mean, we'll never find out since you forbade dustin from coming in here." before you could ask if he'd rather be hanging out with your little brother than laying in a bed with you, he quickly added, "not that i'm complaining."

you huffed, leaning back until your body made contact with the pillows behind you. steve reached out a hand to grab one of yours, gentling tugging your arm up until it was extended enough for him to kiss the hand as you spoke. "i don't want girl scout cookies. i want an hour to lay in this bed and do absolutely nothing with you before i start to think about how much homework i have to do."

steve let out an exaggerated sigh, still holding your hand to his chin as he looked off into the distance dramatically and shook his head. "i remember when i had homework to do," he said longingly. "seems like it was a hundred years ago."

you laughed heartily, just beginning to call him on his bullshit-- "you never even did your homework, steve!"-- when there were three loud bangs on your bedroom door, followed by a momentary pause, the squeak of the doorknob turning, and a slight gust of air as the door swung open. "what the fuck--"

"is everyone decent? why don't you people answer when someone knocks?" to your complete surprise, it was max. she had one arm tossed over her face to obstruct her view, and her tone was demanding but also slightly playful. when neither you nor steve responded, she peeked over her forearm, confirming that everyone was clothed, and dropped her arm altogether. "of course you're in bed together. what's it been, two months since you two made it official?"

"five months, and we're not doing anything," steve immediately rebuked. he still had his fingers laced through yours, but he'd dropped your clasped hands onto the bed between you when max had burst into the room. "and even if we were, you're not supposed to be here!"

"max," you interjected before the two of them could engage in any more bickering. "i assume dustin told you we were in here and aren't looking for any more company, so what's so important that you put his life in danger by coming in anyway?"

the redhead huffed, dropping her backpack onto the floor beside yours and moving to your desk. she plopped down into the chair, spinning until she was facing you and steve again. "i need advice." again, neither you nor steve responded, both wearing expressions of anticipation as you waited for more details. she rolled her eyes, sighing again before admitting the full truth. "relationship advice."

"oh," you said, once again surprised by the younger girl.

clearly just as dumbfounded as you, steve still needed some clarification. "from us? why us?"

"i don't know, because you guys are, like, totally and completely in love and obsessed with each other and talk about everything and never seem to have any relationship issues?"

"i wouldn't say we never have issues," steve said thoughtfully. "there was that time you slept through our date night and all my phone calls and the sound of me ringing the doorbell eighty times."

"that was an accident! it had been a long day," you whined, whacking steve in the chest when he laughed at you. "okay, well what about the time you got that girl's number in the parking lot when you were picking me up from school?"

"hey, hey, that wasn't my fault! and i told you about it because i didn't want you to think i was--"

"o-kay," max interrupted, clearly running low on patience and not quite in the mood for a recap of all your past relationship drama. "will you guys help me, or not? because if you're too busy cuddling or whatever it is you're doing under that comforter, i'm gonna have to talk to nancy, and that will just be... weird."

you sighed, closing your eyes for a second to reminisce on the past twenty minutes when you'd been alone with steve. it wasn't that you didn't want to help max, or weren't willing to hear her out about her problems; she was like a little sister to you, and you always wanted to be there for her. however, her timing was absolutely horrendous, seeing as all you were currently interested in was looking at and talking to and being near steve. nonetheless, you bit back your selfish desire to send her away and nodded solemnly. "sure, we'll try. what happened?"

and so the next 45 minutes were spent with you, steve, and max having an in-depth conversation about communication and boundaries and compromise in a relationship. you and steve had listened intently to max, his hands busying themselves by gently fiddling with your hair or your fingers as you tried to focus all your attention on the younger girl. (by the end of the explanation, steve felt strongly as though he knew way too much about max and lucas's relationship.) when she finished explaining her fight with lucas, the two of you gave her all the relevant advice you could muster up.

with the right words of wisdom and affirmation, max seemed to relax enough to conquer her initial panic over the situation. a sense of accomplishment washed over you as she stood up and retrieved her backpack, thanking you for your help as she headed for the door. just before she walked out of your room, max paused to take in the sight of you and steve with an indecipherable expression. all she said, in an approving and matter-of-fact tone, was, "you two are cute," and then she was gone, seeming determined to solve her problems with lucas sooner than later.

feeling slightly confused but glad to be alone with your boyfriend once again, you turned in steve's arms to face him with another stunned glance. he smiled down at you, leaning in and kissing you sweetly. against your lips, he muttered, "we are cute."

the following day was friday, and you couldn't have been more excited for a week to end. school had been hellish for you recently, and you hadn't been completely certain that you would survive the week. luckily for you, the universe allowed you to function long enough to fulfill your plans to spend the weekend at steve's house while his parents were away. for obvious reasons, your mom was under the impression that you'd be spending the weekend with robin, but you'd given dustin a heads up on the ride home from school that if he had any sort of supernatural and/or otherworldly emergencies, he'd be able to get a hold of you at steve's.

much like steve had done after work the day before, you rushed home from school to shower and pack a weekend bag. not wanting to waste any extra time by going into his room to have an entire conversation, you called out a quick, "i'm leaving!" to dustin and hopped in your car.

it was a fifteen minute drive from your house to steve's; with a reasonable amount of speeding, you made it there in ten. you could feel your heart twitching in your chest at the thought of how close you were to quality time with your boyfriend as you pulled the keys from the ignition and yanked your bag out of the passenger seat.

the front door of the house was swinging open as you approached the porch, and you and steve were exchanging goofy, excited grins the moment you made eye contact. "hey there, handsome," you called to him. you ascended the small set of stairs and dropped your bag by your feet, stepping into his open arms and feeling yourself relax completely. the anticipation was over, and you were nothing but satisfied to finally be with steve again instead of just looking forward to it.

you retreated from the hug slightly to peer up at steve, earning a grin from him as his eyes met yours. before any words could come out of his mouth, though, his face completely transformed; all traces of his lovesick smile were lost and any endearing greetings were forgotten. his eyes had darted to something behind you, and steve remained frozen with you in his arms. you looked at him quizzically as he stared behind you with his brow furrowed, quickly opting to spin around in his arms to see for yourself what was so shocking.

the sight that met your eyes when you turned was one that made your heart sink to your stomach within a millisecond, panic immediately flooding through your body as your eyes settled on the area steve was staring.

it was dustin.

he was riding his bike as fast as he possibly could-- probably faster than he should-- and you could hear him panting in exhaustion before he'd even rode onto the driveway. he stumbled off the bike clumsily, knocking the kickstand down haphazardly and rushing up the porch steps until he stood right in front of you. "i-- have-- an emergency," dustin said through heavy breaths. he was visibly distraught, covered in sweat but also donning a crazed look in his eye that he reserved for especially urgent moments.

you stepped out of steve's arms then, reaching out and grabbing dustin, turning his face in your hands and scanning his body for injuries as you questioned him. "what's wrong? are you hurt? did something happen?" you couldn't find any external wounds on the boy's exposed skin, nor any rips or tears in his clothes, which was a good sign. still, you were anxious to hear whatever it was that had led your little brother here so soon after you'd left him at home.

he exhaled and inhaled deeply, putting in visible effort to slow his breathing as he looked between you and steve. "it’s suzie— she’s pissed at me,” he said breathily. “we were supposed to talk last night but i totally forgot because i was busy doing my stupid latin homework and then i crashed as soon as i finished it and now she thinks i bailed on her, which is ridiculous, because there’s no one i’d rather talk to than suzie, but still, i’m screwed. i need advice.”

you let your hands fall to your sides, blinking slowly as you took in everything the boy had just rapidly word-vomited to you. you could've been mistaken, but you didn’t think you’d heard anything about supernatural and/or otherworldly attacks. “dustin,” you said blankly. “i told you to call me if you had a real emergency. this… this does not qualify. and even if it did, that’s what phones are for.”

dustin began to protest, saying something about how his love for suzie was otherworldly, but was cut off by steve. “hey, hey, you little butthead. no back-talking to your sister, you hear me?” if you weren’t so frustrated by dustin's interruption, you might’ve smiled at steve’s protective instincts. instead, you raised your hands to your head, massaging two fingers against each of your temples and trying your hardest not to strangle the only sibling you had. as you self-soothed, steve continued to bicker with dustin. “what the hell is with you kids and coming to us for advice, anyway? we’re not running a couples’ therapy service here, you know!"

“yeah, i know that, jackass,” dustin responded sarcastically. the boys each displayed their designated ‘brotherly fighting’ grimaces for a moment, and dustin eventually admitted to what had led him there. “max told me about how you two helped her figure out her shit with lucas. so i thought, i bet my big sister and my old friend could help me out too, but apparently i was wrong. god forbid the two of you spend a little time guiding the youth of the world into adulthood instead of sucking face in a dimly lit room.”

you narrowed your eyes at him threateningly as you responded. “we only helped max because she barged into our house unannounced and guilt tripped us-- kind of like you’re doing right now. has anyone ever told you alone time is essential for a good relationship?”

"look, are you gonna help or not? it's fine if you don't, i'll just have to live forever with the memory that you value max's happiness more than mine even though you don't share a bloodline with her. no big deal."

you took a deep breath, mentally cursing at yourself for your inability to say no to any of those little hyperactive children, and gestured for dustin to follow you and steve into the house. "let's go, my little idiot. and get my bag, too."

you heard dustin murmur something that sounded like the word bullshit but decided to let it go as you followed steve through his front door. dustin was close behind you, still grumbling under his breath as he lugged along your (admittedly, overpacked) duffel bag.

"and, by the way, how the hell did you bike here so fast?"

saturday morning was deemed a rest period for you and steve.

it had taken just over three hours for dustin to leave steve's house the night before. he ended up cooking and eating dinner with you-- which was quite awkward, since steve had decorated two of the table placements to set a romantic atmosphere-- and then helping clean up afterward at your insistence. even once he claimed he was leaving, the boy lingered for another half hour, asking 'clarifying questions' until you finally threatened to call suzie and sort it out yourself. by the time dustin was on his way back home, you and steve felt more like exhausted parents than a teenage couple who had a house to themselves for a weekend. beyond a few loving moments while you got ready for bed together, the remainder of your night was uneventful.

upon waking up the following morning, the two of you moved with the utmost leisure. time was plentiful enough that you let steve try--and fail, as you knew he would-- to make you pancakes before you properly remade the batch for the both of you. once you'd both finished eating, steve convinced you to hop in the shower with him for a little morning reset.

at one point during your time in the shower, you both heard steve's landline ringing from the room over. you'd pouted and asked if he needed to answer it, but he brushed off the idea immediately, claiming, "if it rings again, i'll answer." the phone let out a few more rings before falling silent again; once it stopped, you and steve completely forgot it had rung in the first place.

around fifteen minutes later, you'd both exited the shower and were back in steve's room. you were in one of his t-shirts and a pair of pajama shorts, propped on the bed as you watched steve move about the room. the sweatpants hanging from his hips were all he'd dressed himself in, not having bothered with putting on a shirt, and he was doing every simple task from tossing dirty laundry into a hamper to spritzing cologne on himself to rubbing a towel into his hair to dry it off.

"okay, sweetheart," he said, suddenly stopping at the foot of the bed to face you directly. "what's the plan for the day?"

you let out a whine, dramatically flopping backwards on the bed into a laying position. "i don't want to do anything today." steve laughed at the claim, trailing around the side of the bed and crouching down until his face was level with yours. when you met his stare and saw the disbelieving smile playing his mouth, your expression shifted to something more of a stern pout. "i'm serious, harrington. my plan of action is me, you, and this bed for at least 60% of the day."

"hm, that doesn't sound too bad," steve said ponderously, reaching out a hand to brush back the hair framing your face as he feigned thought. "60% of the day; how long is that? 13, 14 hours?" steve was standing as he spoke then, gradually shifting positions until he was sitting on the bed with his face hovering a few inches from yours. "i can think of a few good ways to pass the time, if you need some ideas."

you leaned forward the slightest amount, your head lifting off the pillow just enough to goad steve into closing the remainder of the gap between you. his mouth pressed against yours, lips slipping into place so naturally that steve couldn't even remember what it was like to not be kissing you. within a few seconds, he wasn't sure whether or not he was breathing anymore; if he wasn't, though, he was sure that you were doing it for him in some magical way that only a soulmate could. there were no thoughts in his mind aside from you, and how you tasted like the toothpaste he kept in his bathroom and smelled like his body wash mixed with your lavender shampoo and how your skin felt like home underneath the old t-shirt you'd grabbed from his dresser and how much he loved you. as far as he was concerned, the rest of the world had fallen away for the time being and there was no one or nothing else, not even gravity holding you down or stars floating in the sky. you wanted the day alone with him, and, yes, steve was very much willing to spend the rest of his day doing nothing but kissing you.

neither of you were sure how much time had passed by the time steve made the effort to slip your shirt up your body. he used the hands he had resting on your hips to push the fabric upward, and only paused to trace his thumbs over the bare skin of your chest, a sensation that made you part your lips and gasp lightly. a low chuckle escaped from steve's mouth-- his natural response to getting any sort of rise out of you-- and he moved to lift the shirt over your head. just as you shifted forward to help him out a little, a shrill sound was blaring from steve's bedside table.

the phone was ringing again.

steve pulled away from you, prompting yet another whine to make its way past your lips. "sorry, babe. just a sec, i swear." his hands slid back down your sides as he apologized, fully disentangling himself from you and moving to answer the phone. "hello?"

you muttered something snarky under your breath as he engaged in conversation, tugging the t-shirt back down and crossing your arms in annoyance. yes, steve had said that he'd pick up the phone if it rang a second time, but you'd kind of assumed that the idea of getting you naked twice before even leaving the house was something he would've been more invested in than taking a phone call.

a tiny voice in the back of your head was scolding you for being mad, reminding you not to blame steve for the lack of privacy you two got. it wasn't like he wanted to be interrupted every time he got you alone. it was just the way things went with a friend group that functioned so much like a family; everyone wanted to get a hold of mom and dad for one reason or another.

you glanced over at the brown-haired boy in an attempt to distract yourself with the forever-entertaining activity of admiring him, but the expression he now wore made it kind of difficult to focus. his eyes had widened and his brows raised, and the 'o' shape of his mouth immediately told you that he'd just heard something startling and, most likely, disruptive. before you could ask who it was or get close enough to overhear the other person's voice, steve was speaking again. "i-- yes, i heard you! jesus christ," he said rashly. his tone of voice narrowed the list of potential callers down to one of your close friends; if you had to guess, you would've put your money on it being dustin again. "okay, fine. i just need a while to confirm. yeah, yeah, robin. i'll call you back in five minutes. bye."

"robin?" you asked when steve looked at you again. "why are you confirming something with robin in the next five minutes, steve?"

"well, apparently we both forgot," he started to explain, putting emphasis on the reminder that you, too, had the same lapse in memory as he did. "but the plan for today is actually to hang out with robin!"

you opened your mouth to deny his claim, only to spontaneously recall exactly what steve was talking about. instead of speaking, you dropped your head into your hands and let out a pitiful groan. "i can't believe i forgot about that."

it had slipped both your mind and steve's, but robin had indeed insisted that you both spend a day with her that weekend, and you'd all settled on saturday. part of her justification, which you'd deemed valid earlier in the week when steve wasn't milliseconds from taking off your clothes, was that she 'hadn't spent enough quality time with the two of you outside of work and school during the last few weeks.' the other part, which steve consciously chose not to relay to you, was that she 'needed to revive her hope in true love by being around your true love, which is the truest love she's ever seen.' mostly, steve didn't ever want to repeat that sentence due to how ridiculously dramatic and mushy it was. on top of that, though, steve knew you, and he knew that you hated being the center of attention. having your friend surveil and analyze everything you and steve did was a surefire way to drive you absolutely insane. you wanted to be able to fly under the radar sometimes; not to be invisible, necessarily, but just to blend into the background of a moment without your actions being spotlighted. so, in order to prevent you from feeling any impending dread before or during your time with robin, steve decided to spare you that one detail.

peeking out from behind your hands, you met eyes with steve. "do you think we could get out of it?"

scrunching his nose, steve shook his head lightly. your head slid back behind your hands in response, and steve sighed. "unfortunately, i think the longer we put it off, the worse it'll be when we finally do it. i mean, you know i love robin, but she's pretty obsessive." when you didn't react to words, he reached out and grabbed your wrists, gently pulling on them until you submitted and dropped your hands altogether. once your face was exposed again, steve's hands found his way onto either side of your head and he leaned in close before speaking again. "if you really don't want to go, i'll call her back and cancel. she'll have to get over it eventually."

for a few seconds, you just looked at steve. it seemed like a second chance at the effort you'd made a few minutes earlier; there was a lot to admire about him, and in just a moment you were able to take it all in and soak in how much you loved him. without thinking, you suddenly careened forward and pressed your mouth to steve's hastily. he was visibly surprised by the display of affection when you withdrew, which earned him an amused smile and another peck on the lips. "call robin back and tell her we'll be at her house in half an hour."

and so, the plan to spend the day in bed went down the drain.

"you're sure you're not mad at me?"

"no, steve, i'm not mad at you. i'm mad at everyone else."

it was the next day, and the likelihood of you finally being alone with steve for more than twenty minutes at a time was beginning to feel more and more unrealistic. (sure, the two of you were currently alone in his kitchen, but you wouldn't have been surprised if you blinked and suddenly another person was in the room with you too.) the last three consecutive days had been tainted with your friends' problems, and the inability to turn any of them away was officially impeding your happiness. you'd thought you were doing a decent job of keeping your dissatisfaction hidden from steve, but the questions he began asking on sunday morning clearly proved otherwise. so, not only were you gradually losing your composure, but steve was also noticing how on edge you were feeling.

"is this about what robin said last night?" you glared at him from across the kitchen table, a pointless attempt to scare steve into dropping the subject. instead of shying away as you'd hoped he would, he gave you a knowing look and continued to press the matter. "we both know it is, so why don't you just admit it?"

"fine, steve," you said harshly, crossing your arms and leaning back in the wooden chair you were sitting in. "i'm mad because robin basically said that we're not significant as individuals and that us being a couple is the most interesting thing about either one of us. are you happy now?"

he sighed, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the table. "that's not what she said, y/n. you know she doesn't actually think that."

"maybe not consciously," you argued. "but the only thing she thinks about when she sees one of us is that we're dating the other. ever since we told them we're together, everyone just thinks we're, like, some token flawless soulmate couple that never has problems and never needs to spend actual alone time together because, 'their relationship is already so perfect!' and yeah, i love you more than i ever imagined i could love another person, and i don't ever plan on losing you because you are my soulmate. but that doesn't mean i don't need you to take me on dates sometimes, or spend an afternoon doing nothing in bed, or whatever else stupid fleeting high school relationships are about, because i do! but, no, we can't have any time for any of that because everyone just wants us to exist near them so they can have their faith in love restored and have us magically give them all the answers to being in a relationship."

there was a brief pause when you stopped rambling; steve wasn't completely sure if you were finished with your monologue, and he knew better than to interrupt when you were on a verbal warpath. he was certain you were done soon enough, and a rush a guilt accompanied the words he carefully selected in reply. "i knew they were getting on your nerves, but i didn't realize it was bothering you this much."

it was you who sighed this time, feeling your own shudder of guilt as you processed the upset tone in steve's voice. "i didn't want you to realize it. i was hoping they would eventually ease up a little, but it turns out they're just as invasive now as they were before we were official, and it doesn't seem to be getting any better."

"what can i do?" steve asked, moving around the table and toward you. within a moment he was standing beside you, and you had to tilt your head slightly upward to clearly see his face. "i know you said you're not mad at me, but i still feel guilty about you feeling this way and not being able to talk to me about it."

"i should've talked to you about it," you admitted. "i know i could've, and i feel better now that i have. i just didn't want to complain about them, because they're our friends, and my little brother, and i am glad they trust us enough to talk about their problems with us. but sometimes i just want to be with you. only you. does that make sense?"

he smiled at you softly, reaching out and pushing your hair away from your face. "yeah, that makes sense." his hand dropped down to your shoulder and slid halfway down your upper arm. "just try not to be mad at them, y/n," steve gently insisted. "you know they mean the best. christ, they can save the world time and time again, but they're not too great at just being normal. i just don't think they really get it. i mean, dustin and max are basically just kids, and robin is... hyperactive. they know you care about whatever they have to complain about, so you're the first person they want to tell. and it just so happens that i'm always with you when they come around. they don't really consider any other factors."

suddenly your brow was furrowing, and you were slowly shaking your head. "no, i don't think that's it."

"you think they're intentionally venting to you just so they can get on your nerves?"

"no, not that. what you said about them wanting to tell me things and you just happening to be there. that's not true." steve was clearly uncertain of what point you were trying to make. his hand fell from your arm as he tried to process what you were getting at. instinctually, your hand was grabbing his again as you fought back a smile at how unknowing he was; he really had no idea how the people he loved so dearly saw him. "those kids love you, steve. and you're robin's best friend. yeah, they want to tell me about whatever's going on in their lives, but they want to tell you just as badly."

steve's expression transformed from clueless to appeased in the blink of an eye. he grinned at you foolishly, giving your hand a squeeze. "you think so?"

you couldn't help but laugh, a boisterous sound that filled steve's heart to the brim with adoration. "yes, steve, i think so."

sparing a moment to admire you as you caught your breath from laughing, steve leaned down to press his mouth to yours sweetly. when he pulled back a few seconds later, you grabbed onto his shirt, using the fabric to guide his lips back to yours again. you kissed him until you felt a little lightheaded in the way only steve could make you. even then, you kept him close. his face was only a few millimeters from yours when you locked eyes with him, and he flashed you another grin. "my parents' flight won't be in until late tonight. wanna go back upstairs?"

you flashed him a smile of your own, kissing him chastely before standing from your chair. "we're definitely going back upstairs."

he began to lead you out of the kitchen, moving swiftly toward the stairs that led to his bedroom. to no one's surprise, his movements were halted when the sound of the landline ringing was echoing through the room. you could faintly hear the same sound traveling downstairs from steve's room. he looked back at you, wearing the look of a deer caught in headlights as he tried to decode your expression. you dropped your head onto his shoulder, eyes falling shut as you released a giggle. at this point, all you could do was laugh. "we're cursed, stevie."

in a sudden shift of emotions, steve recomposed himself and took a step toward the ringing phone. you looked to him in surprise, but knew he had no intentions of explaining his plan to you beforehand. in response to your joking comment about being cursed, he said, "not if i can help it." then he snatched the phone off the hook and uttered a quick greeting. his eyes closed momentarily as he listened intently to the voice on the other line. (it was lucas this time, calling with what felt like a centuries-old request for advice from you and steve.) you laughed at his intense concentration, using the hand that wasn't wrapped in steve's to cover your mouth and stifle any sound. "nope!" steve was suddenly shouting into the phone. "i'm not available, and she's not available. unless you want to deal with me, try again tomorrow. get on your stupid walkie and tell that to everyone else, too! don't call back!" and with that, he slammed the phone back onto its hook.

"wow," you said through yet another laugh. "i thought you said we shouldn't be mad at them?"

"yeah, we shouldn't be mad. that doesn't mean we should be nice when they call." by then, you' were'd begun guiding steve along the path through his house to the stairs. clearly, he'd handled the issue of being interrupted for the day, so there was no good reason not to follow through on your plans to head upstairs. "they're worse than the god damn telemarketers."

"agreed," you said, turning the final corner and starting to head up the carpeted steps. "they're lucky we have better things to do than spending the day yelling at them."

"much better things to do," steve echoed as he cheerfully followed you up the stairs. "but they still might include some yelling."

needless to say, the phone didn't ring again for the rest of the day.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington blurb

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kaciidubs · 8 months

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KACII BABY COMPOSER CHAN IS STUCK IN MY HEAD i miss him so much, like imagine walking in on him hard at work<3 he's such a genius and so fucking professional :( and and hes so focused :( and and he's wearing his black hat :(

its so hot and i wanna sit on his cock

and that rhymed which is even better :(

anyways, love you kacii baby<3

ESTEE BESTIEE PLEASE, COMPOSING MODE! CHAN IS SUCH A CONCEPT!! Girlie i miss him too it's insane :((

You come by his studio for a surprise visit, ready to offer him a quick lunch date when you hear the rhythmic ticking of the digital metronome and see his hand flexing around his mouse as he edits a track.

He's working, of course.

And honestly you should have called beforehand, but you don't always get the chance to see your lover doing what he does best, and you're honestly excited to watch him now.

He pauses mid-movement and turns to you with a look of confusion, "Baby? Hey, what're you doing here? Did I forget a date or something?" A flash of worry streaks across his face, "I mean- Not that I'm not happy to see you! I love seeing you, it's just-"

"You didn't forget anything, Channie, don't worry," you cut off his rambling with a smile, letting the door close behind you as you walk toward his chair, "just wanted to pop in for a visit and see what you and the boys were up to."

A soft, relieved smile grows on Chris' lips and he tugs you closer into his bubble, his hand wrapped around yours with a light swing. "Ah, well, I'm a little in the middle of making a track so I won't be as entertaining as I usually am - if you wanna find the others-"

"Can I watch?"

"Huh?"

You raise your free hand to twirl a stray curl that's sticking out from underneath the brim of his black cap, "I wanna watch you - I'm not in a rush, plus I can't remember the last time I actually got to see you make the next Stray Kids masterpiece."

His eyes crease as he laughs that little high pitched giggle you've always loved, a tiny squeak accenting the end as he tilts his head away. "Masterpiece is a stretch, but you can watch me if you want to - if you get bored and wanna leave, I won't be offended."

Taking that as your offer accepted, you pull up the spare computer chair and sit next to him, watching diligently as he readjusts his hat and fluffs up his hoodie before hopping right back into the world of tempos and samples.

And, honestly? You love it.

You love seeing the shift from your giggly, adorable boyfriend to the focused, goal oriented leader of the fourth generation; the unwavering focus of his eyes on the computer screen in front of him as he drags and drops various sources with abbreviated file names you couldn't even begin to guess.

Once he's edited the background beat to something you think he may be pleased with - for now at least - he slides his midi keyboard over and plays with a few chords, his long, pretty fingers dancing along the ivory-plastic keys.

It's intoxicating, truly, the way he licks his lips as he finds the progression he's looking for, but struggles to navigate where it ends - the soft huff when he plays it over and over so his short term memory won't forget the notes.

Slowly, you've gone from watching him make music to simply watching him, studying him in his element, observing him and the habits you've seen in other settings. You can't help but squeeze your legs together, your breathing subconsciously slowing as you watch his adam's apple bob when he swallows, the column of his neck stretching as his head moves to search the large monitor.

"I can feel your eyes on me, baby girl." He murmurs, a sideways smirk tugging his lips, "You're gonna burn a hole into the side of my face, you know?"

"Can't help it," you breathe softly, eyes now tracing the sharp angle of his jaw, "you look so fucking sexy when you're making music."

A squeak of confusion resonates from him as he makes a change in the file, "Really? I'm just sitting here, what's so sexy about that?"

Usually, if he were truly busy, he'd pass off your fueled comment with a shy chuckle, but a few hours have passed and he'd gotten a lot further than he expected - a short break was definitely earned.

"The way you look at the screen, like nothing else exists around you, and the way your hands move when you know you've got something good going and you can't waste a single second," licking your lips, you tilt your head slightly, "or the way you bite your lip when you're really into whatever thought's running through that genius brain of yours- just makes me wanna..."

"Wanna what?" He turned to face you, lidded eyes flicking between your own lust-fogged irises and your slightly parted lips. "Wanna what, baby girl?"

Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, a rush of heat washes over you under his intense stare.

"Wanna sit on your dick and have you record some sounds of our own."

#✧. ┊ kacii answers #✧. ┊ Estee Bestiee #stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #estee & kacii era

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ctheathy · 3 months

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Hello, I hope you have a nice day! , I would like to request a headcanons of yandere nine x reader being kidnapped by doctor eggman

Yandere Nine w/ Darling who got kidnapped by Robotnik

Nine x Reader

Yandere Headcanons

Short Concept

Author's note: You, my dear reader, are all out for the drama and I'm here for it~!

Nine/Reader [Romantic Tendencies]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

Possessiveness • Nine is so traumatized omfg- • Eventual PTSD • Age regression • Overprotective behaviour • Poor mental state • Paranoia • Emotional dependency • Trust Issues • Insomnia • Violence

Pfft. If Nine wasn't already considered severely unhinged before, he most certainly will be right now. Oh how much terror the fox would feel in the pits of his stomach, the horror in his eyes, the helplessness in his heart. He most certainly would have never allowed this to even remotely come forward if he were the one to be in your presence. But... he wasn't. The whole team would have felt this immense sense of hesitance and dread to even tell him about it, having noticed his attachment and emotional bond towards you... and when the words slip from Sonic's mouth, not ready to test the nine-tailed foxes’ impatience, he cracks. And not just any regular burst of anger, he has a complete mental breakdown.

Nine will be nothing less than a ball of angst and fright at this point, something which he desperately tried to cover up with an infuriated facade, despite his evident worries from your abduction. But none of that would matter in the end, because he'd behave completely berserk one way or another. He doesn't dare rest or waste time for that matter until he can hold you in his arms again. Likely as soon as they reach The Chaos Council to try and bring you back... Nine would not hold himself back, still taken over by his violent meltdown. Instead of trying to avoid the Council's eyes and enemies that are in the way, maintaining a low profile as he'd say, he releases all of that pent up malice.

Though he'd leave many of the his robotic opponents onto the grounds ...torn to scraps by the fierce abilities of his mechanical tails, Nine would be surprisingly merciful to any living mobian for the sake of getting answers on where you're being held hostage. Because remember; although venting out some of his frustrations during the fight was equal to his hostility towards those who just so happened to be in his way, this mission is not and never will be about assassinating every enemy he comes across for the sake of just hurting them. It's all just to release you from The Chaos Council's grasp, take you back to his workshop where you rightfully belong ...bring you back to him. An objective and promise he will never allow himself to forget ever again after seeing your frightened face and body.

Even after he does get you back to the team, and he will no matter the costs or sacrifices he has to offer. But although you're back home, safe.... His paranoia will continue to linger and remain at its highest. Though the wounds you obtained through your abduction will eventually heal, his trauma of your kidnapping won't for a very long time. The side affects seemingly starts off small through your perspective, and you probably wouldn't even know how much it deep down affected him. Especially as the amber fox just seems to want to stick closeby you, seeking for comforting reassurance and some guidance to get himself back on the right track, which you more than understand and accept with open arms.

But what if I told you that he just got much, ...much more insane and delusional than you may think after you got taken away like that. It was like a newborn kitten being taken away from its mother right after birth, one whom he'd desperately cry out to and crawl after. To Nine, it wasn't just the idea of losing that happiness of having somebody to care about, but this also re-activated his defense mechanism to his past trauma.

Kill or be killed.

Nine's whole mentality practically returns to that of his younger self, almost similar to an age regression... You'd probably also notice the changes in demeanor, how he's practically almost behaving like a juvenile again. Decisions are made more so out of instinct rather than rational, logical thoughts. Which, to you, is something completely foreign and out of character for Nine.

His overprotective impulses would kick in at full force and he'd be quicker to lash out, along with his pessimistic mentality and stress being multiplied in the process, which is something his already poor mental state is absolutely not emotionally capable of handling. Even with you just not being in his eyesight can leave Nine with severe anxiety. His emotions are quicker to flow over, resulting in either anger outbursts or crying... And he practically treats you as if you were actively dying from a disease, constantly thinking of and mentioning the “what ifs”.

There would be many restless nights where he wakes up in the middle of the night, teary-eyed after a dream vision or isn't even capable of drifting off into a slumber at all. The simple thought of you ending up hurt and scarred while he wasn't there to protect you keeps his nerves excessive and senses on constant high alert. Even just the consideration in itself can leave him in a condition of hysteria for the next half hour, unable to calm himself down. These sudden exchanges of panic making you realise just how inconsistent it is, as Nine was usually known as collected, self-assured... in control of the situation. Something you'd consider the other side of the coin of how he was operating at this very moment. A complete and sudden reverse swap in his very identity.

Making you pray... that this was a crutch you could hopefully help him grow out of

#sonic x reader #sonic the hedgehog x reader #sonic the hedgehog #yandere nine x reader #yandere nine #tails nine #nine x reader #nine tails #yandere sonic prime #yandere sonic the hedgehog #yandere sonic #sonic prime x reader #sonic prime nine #sonic prime #miles nine prower #yandere tails x reader #yandere tails #tails x reader #new nine post WOOHOO

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gabessquishytum · 2 months

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Dream is a virgin. Which is insane, considering that he's a bazillion-years-old concept, and he's not sex-averse, he's just been very busy, okay? He's tending to the dreaming minds of the whole universe, and he's also a workaholic. He had a few romantic interests here and there, but somewhere between his dedication to his work and purpose and social awkwardness, his romances died out before taking flight, and he never got anywhere sexually. He had occasionally brief moments when he wondered if he might be missing out on something, but he had the whole kingdom to run and yada yada. So, when after the fishbowl Dream somehow gets himself a boyfriend, everyone is surprised, but most of all, Dream himself. His romance with Hob is blossoming, they're taking things very slow, and Dream's flying (sometimes literally). He doesn't even think of his little problem with lack of experience until eventually, he and Hob end up in the bedroom, both half-dressed, and things are obviously heating up. Dream realizes what's actually going on and internally freaks out: he does want to know what it feels like to be one with Hob, want to feel the shape and weight of his cock inside this manufactured body, wants to...how did Matthew put it the other day? Wants to have his guts rearranged, that's it! But he's also suddenly scared. What if Hob would be disappointed if he told the truth? Hob knows what he is now, what if he expected a skillful lover, taking into account that he's about to fuck the manifestation of all fantasies? Also, what if it's going to hurt? And okay, this vessel technically cannot be hurt by such a paltry activity, but Dream's very core can be. Because he loves Hob. He wants their first time - and his first time - to be good and special. Hob doesn't understand what's wrong, but he notices that Dream starts to spiral. He nudges the truth out of him with patient kisses and gentle touches until Dream shyly confesses he's never had sex before. Hob is equally shocked and turned on (you can take a guy out of the middle ages, but you can't take the middle ages virginity king out of a guy), but he can work with that! Dream is about to be ruined.

So sweet. I kinda love the idea of Dream just. Not having time to have sex. He's been busy, okay, time flies when you're a very important cosmic entity!!! He managed to conceive Orpheus with Calliope as like a..... meeting of artistic minds. Nobody took their clothes off, though.

And Hob really does think that it's rather lovely. Of course it's daunting, being the one who gets to pop Dream’s cherry. But it's unquestionably a lovely privilege. And it's hot. It's really fucking hot to see Dream blushing and spread out on the sheets of Hob’s very ordinary double bed. Hob is so fucking in love with him. It's doesn't matter that he's Dream of the Endless, who contains all of the fantasies that every human has ever had. Right now he's Dream, Hob’s boyfriend, squirming and shy and flushed pink from his cheeks to his cock.

Hob is also very very good at sex, and that is quite helpful because he knows how to make Dream whimper by kissing the inside of his thigh or thumbing over the crown of his cock. And when Dream is whimpering, he's also forgetting to be nervous or think about how he might be doing this wrong. He's mostly just thinking "more" and "please" and also "fuck".

And they do fuck. Eventually. When Dream is loose and trembling, practically undone already. It's a dream come true, which is the highest compliment Dream can come up with. He'd like to do it again, when he can remember how to hold a physical form without melting a bit into the mattress.

The cuddles are an unexpected but wonderful bonus. And Dream is quietly hopeful that Hob will always, always hold him. Sex or no sex. Because he loves Dream as much as Dream loves him, and that means that he's never ever letting go.

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft

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sanemisstalker · 9 months

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!spoiler!

hey, I saw your requests are open, so here we go...

imagine rengoku and y/n had a 'friends with benefit' relationship before he passed away, but then he comes back 2 years after his 'dead'.

as half demon.

he's sitting in front of your bedroom window one night and you can't believe your eyes...

he tells you how much he missed you and that his love for you grew stronger every day (soft human ren) but when he smelled that you let giyuu touch your body... oh dear

he shows y/n who she belongs to..(rough demon ren) his other half taking over and fucks y/n so hard and good to make it clear that she belongs to him. only him.

👉👈 hf <3

You deserve the most INSANE head for this concept oh ym fucking god. Oh my fucking g o d. I went delusional when I saw this last night.

CW/ Fem reader, AFAB genitalia, Breasted /Rengoku briefly mentions Suicide/ SPOILERS FOR THE MANGA......../ Giyu's life is on a clock/ Possessiveness/ BDSM Dynamics (mutual ownership)

-I can imagine how the news would've stricken you in specific. How muted it must have been. Day in and day out of hearing the cries of people much closer to the flame pillar than you could ever hope to be.

-You weren't his brother, you weren't his father- You weren't any of the young men that watched him pass- That had to stare at his, apparently, mangled corpse for hours, awaiting help in the uncomfortably hot air he left in his death.

-Hell, you weren't even a hashira yet. You just... knew the guy a little too intimately. Just enough for it to hurt more than you felt you deserved.

-It's not like he was going to marry you, or even ask for a partnership. They hadn't found a ring on his body in some grand last appeal-

-He wasn't even thinking about coming back for you-

-and it had felt that way for a while, now. You weren't counting the days, but you knew his birthday had passed twice. You hadn't quite remembered yours, but his had come and gone.

-Rengoku always remembered those kinds of details though. He was pretty big on the little things, so much so that he considered no thing too little.

-When the ex-water hashira had dropped off a small gift, courtesy of himself, you were partially confused. You hadn't known Giyu inherently well, nor did you think he paid you any mind.

-'I've been looking for your home for a while.' He'd hand you the gift. 'It was... hard to find.'

-'What is this for?'

-'Your birthday.'

-'It's my birthday?' The question came out more pathic than you'd hoped.

-'I- this may seem invasive... but... before his death, Rengoku had mentioned the date to me in passing. I had to ask around to see what was so important about it.'

-'He mentioned my birthday?' God, you were just full of pathetic questions, it seemed.

-'The... anniversary was just last week...' He was clearly stumbling.

-'I- maybe it's because my years are... numbered... but I- I wanted to put forward his kindness. I was too in my own head to do so while he was alive. Please open it before I say anything else.'

-It was a button. The top one of the demon slayer uniform.

-'I don't want to make any... assumptions about you and Rengoku, but I know, at the bare minimum, he was fond of you. I think he would've wanted you to have something of his... He left most of his clothes to his younge-'

-He'd begin apologizing profusely when you'd start sobbing. You'd collapse into his arms, clutching the box to your sternum and just wailing- A wail you hadn't known Kyojuro would even think you'd be worthy of.

-But Giyu thought you were worthy of it, and Giyu was the only one here right now. You cried in his arms for what felt like hours. You couldn't remember the last time you'd let somebody hold you- let a lone a man.

-His smell was cathartic. Like rain.

-His kiss meant nothing. Neither did the tear filled sex. Giyu was a dying man who'd done an inexplicable kindness. You got to pretend he was there, Giyu got to experience a warmth he'd never been rewarded for throwing a life away.

-You did not want Giyu to stay over in your bed, and thanked that button on your nightstand for his absence when you awoke in the dead of night.

-but Kyojuro remembers the little things.

-And you remember those loud eyes. They were perched at your window seal.

-You blinked once, twice-

-and then his face started to form in the darkness, and you were sure Giyu must have brought some ailment with him, because no. Not your Kyojuro, it must've been a delusion. Or maybe the original wasn't really dead-

-The way he said your name was undeniable. Past the buzz of the cicadas, and the huff of the wind.

-'Y/N.' The man said.

-'K-Kyojuro?'

-'Y/N!' There was palpable glee in the air, radiating from the man that claimed to be Kyojuro Rengoku.

-'W-who are you?' You'd croak.

-'...I'm Rengoku Kyojuro?' He'd respond softly. 'It is dark in here, I suppose. I'd meet you in the daylight if I could. I'm... not able, though.'

-How love stricken you must've been. At the mere chance that it was even partially him, you were bounding into his arms. You ignored the clear horns on his head, and bizarre markings along his neck. The undeniable smell of fear wafting from him-

-It was him. You knew even God or the devil himself couldn't recreate his warmth.

-It would take everything to remind Rengoku of his enhanced strength. The feeling of your body in his arms was heavenly- He'd only felt this elated maybe once before, in his mother's arms.

-'I missed you so much. Y/N, you will... Oh no, you're crying. You can't, or I'll cry too.' But he's already crying, afraid of his new found strength, and far too happy to see your face in the moonlight. Even if it's full of tears.

-'Sweet, and beautiful. You're just as striking as when I left. You look so tired... you've slept, right? Please don't tell me you've laid awake for me?' His heart ached at your nod.

-'I-I didn't deserve-'

-'Shshsh-' His hands would run through your hair. It was the first time in so long you'd felt the weight of your body- how slow you moved. 'I should never keep you so restless- come, sleep- sleep-'

-As the high of the night wore down, and Rengoku lulled you to bed with 'I love You's and the like, he felt at peace-

-But the smell of rain on such a dry night was aggravating his nose. He'd know that smell anywhere.

-Rengoku had formed a rather unfortunate temper since his supposed death. Not that he wasn't the same, fiery man at his core, calm, booming voice and all, but something he had never struggled with was the trade marked Rengoku male hot-headedness. (He'd always found his fathers decline in pride more than a little unsightly.)

-And he now struggled with it. Kyojuro had spent the last two years burning every unprompted shred of anger away so he could stand before you now as the same emotionally intact and strong man he'd died as.

-The one he hoped you loved.

-He'd sooner take his own life than take something out on you-

-but that smell.

-When you woke up, he questioned you as gently as he could.

-'Why do you smell like... water?'

-Your admission wouldn't be easy, but you couldn't lie to the man. You'd begin crying again, begging for forgiveness. He'd pull away to look at you with pity.

-'No, no- I'm the one that left you alone for so long. Don't apologize for my faults-' His hands would begin a slow decline down your body, tugging you closer by your ass. Your face would land squarely against his bare chest...

-And his hands- those big, all encompassing hands would move up your spine, to the nape of your neck.

-'Y/N, I'd like to address the elephant in the room.' He'd mumble against your temple as his hands wandered along your frame.

-'You're... You're not entirely human. I understand that.'

-'I... am not entirely right, anymore, Y/N. I want to warn you of that...'

-'I would...' hope, the thought briefly flitted in your head. Though clearly a travesty, Kyojuro had often waited for you to make the first move. The sudden interest on his behalf was more than nice. 'I would... assume.'

-'I don't want to harm, or scare you. Please don't let me do either. If I ever even- begin to... Behead me where I stand.'

-'I-I couldn't-' You'd shudder.

-'You can.' Rengoku would assure. 'I've developed an awful habit.' He'd be squeezing your hip, massaging just rough enough to rock you. He'd pull your leg up and over his own... Slotting himself between your thighs.

-'Y/N, did you let him cum inside you?' The word felt foreign on his tongue. How crude of him.

-'N-no!' You rushed.

-'Did he make you cum?'

-'....No.'

-'Mmm.' Rengoku hummed, his large hand running up your thigh. You quivered as he made contact with your sex. 'You haven't had one in a long time, then.' His fingers would slip past your gown, and pull your garments to the side-

-'I- I haven't. It didnt..didn't... feel right-'

-'Nobody can make you cum like I can, right, Y/N?'

-'Nobody.' You rushed. Your body was reeling from his touch. The mere possibility of his cock once again battering your insides was--

-'And this...' One of his fingers would slid into you, your insides still mushy from Giyu's use. 'This is still mine, right?'

-'It's- It's a yours. It always will be.'

-'Even in death?' Rengoku whispered against your temple.

-'For forever- For as long as you want it-'

-'You're my strong girl, right?' You'd nod. You'd be his anything. 'And this,' He'd add another finger, curling them inside of you.

-Part of him was pleased, you were all stretched out and ready. Giyu must have done you well....

-Giyu had no right to do anything with you.

-'This wants your cock?' He'd ask. You didn't even think before nodding. You'd never heard such words from his mouth.

-How daunting

-You'd cling to his bare chest, trying to just get closer. 'Say you want it.'

-'Give me my cock.' You'd slur. 'I need you. I've needed you. Please- please- I need you to let me.... Use me- I-' He'd already done you in, and he hadn't even tried.

-He could never turn you down. Especially not now that he was so much weaker.

-You stayed laying down, your body pressed against his broad chest- And Rengoku slipped his cock beneath your gown. He didn't bother removing your panties.

-He didn't even let you adjust before he wrapped his arms around you tight and just began pumping.

-How cruel, but it was the least you deserved for allowing another man so close. Rengoku would never punish you for it. He was too kind. He was too good, even when a demons blood crept through his veins. Rengoku was just too fucking good-

-'You're-' a hiccup would interrupt your sob. Words were lost on your poor, over fucked mind. You'd never experienced such speed, or such a grind. 'So- good- Kyo-kyojuro---!'

-His hand swiping at your clit was quick enough for it almost feel like vibrations. Climax after climax while your creaming cunt just begged for his seed.

-You felt like you were being consumed. He didnt break eye contact with you once- Not even allowing you the reprieve to look away from him.

-'Open your eyes.' He cooed, still thrusting up and into your pussy with a roughness that seemed almost impossible with such a tone. 'Look at whose loving you while you cum. Look at whose making you cum.'

-He wanted your eyes on him, and him alone. He wasn't sure what animal he'd become if they drifted away. You wouldn't. You can't.

-He'd never been so possessive. Had never claimed you- He had never really wanted to. Marry you, definitely. Kyojuro had never planned to bed you and not dedicate his romantic life to you-

-but you were always supposed to be able to leave, if you really wanted. He wasn't sure he was strong enough to let you do that, now.

-'Say my name again. Remember whose you are, Y/N. Burn it in your head.' He hissed, an unusual quiet to his voice. It made you hang on every word.

-You were his. He was yours.

-'Kyojuro! Kyojuro!' It was all you could manage. Every question he posed, every time he hummed, or thrust, or made you cum- You'd let him seer in across your stomach if he found fit-

-Rengoku had never loved his name so much. He'd make sure to burn it in your head again, if need be.

#rengoku x y/n #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer smut #rengoku x reader #rengoku smut #demon rengoku #hashira x reader

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