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pennyserenade · 7 months ago

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crimson & clover | neil lewis x reader

summary | what begins as a innocent night at the club turns into something a bit more adventurous for you and the man who owns your favorite movie store. rating | (explicit) tags/warnings | alcohol mention, smut, explicit smut, fingering, semi-public sex, praise, unprotected, dirty talk (non degrading), neil is lovely! polite and respectful! word count | 2.8k+ a/n | i put on a 2000s club playlist and got to work. this is not beta'd because life is crazy but i hope you enjoy it. i dedicate this to @burt-reynolds, for all of her lovely 2000s aesthetics and her lovely vibes, and @theredviper for being so supportive and lovely always.

“Holy shit,” Neil mutters, his eager fingers gripping tightly onto your hips.

A thrum of music carries from outside the bathroom, where you’ve both left your respective friend groups in the haze of your alcohol infused ardor. As Neil lines your hips up to his clothed crotch, you make eye contact in the cloudy mirror above the sink. His gray blue eyes glow under the harsh lighting - wet and earnest as one of his hands trails to your backside, drawing up your short skirt. The heart pendant on your neck dangles dangerously close to the porcelain as he pushes your legs further apart, knocking one with his knee as a soft groan falls from his lips. The heat his body emits onto your own is enough to make you let out a shaky breath.

You told yourself you wouldn’t do this. Swore to it, in fact. It was the thing your friends constantly got at you for--the way you’d stop at Neil’s store twice a week, flirt with either him or Jonathan, and come out with your movies half price. You weren’t ever supposed to fuck one of them. It was contrary to your entire relationship, giving him what you were supposed to tease forever. But God, you couldn’t help it—not tonight.

When you had entered the club, Neil had already been there with Jonathan, but you hadn’t seen him until about thirty minutes in. Over the sound of intoxicated voices trying to speak over one another and loud, pulsing music, you’d locked eyes. It had begun as an innocuous greeting - a slight nod of your heads and demure smiles, nothing more. But there’d been more drinks and more talking, and your two friend groups drew closer together as the night went on.

It had happened when Jonathan had his hand on your friend’s thigh and his tongue down her throat. You and Neil were standing awkwardly next to them, pretending you weren’t in the presence of two people who were treading dangerously close to fucking in a public space. Neil held a beer in his hand, his face flushed from the heat and most likely the drink, and you were working your way slowly through another Vodka cranberry. He’d said something you couldn’t hear and when you asked him to repeat it, he did - drawing his face nearer to your own. The setting invited your next actions: his lips on yours, the drinks abandoned on the sticky countertop of your table in favor of touching each other.

He fumbles with his jeans behind you now, the clack of his belt making your heart thud. “I don’t usually do this,” you giggle, hanging your head to look at him behind. His blunt fingers work diligently, pushing down his pants to his knees. You smile; the blue of his boxers does little to conceal his erection.

You look back to the mirror. He gives you a boyish smile, warm and lopsided, before reaching down between your bodies and sliding your thong to the side.

“Mm,” he says, caging his bottom lip between his teeth. In a gruff voice, he adds, “God, you’re fucking glistening, baby. Look at you. Just—“ His fingers part your lips, his eyebrows disappearing beneath his fringe as he coats his fingers with your slick, “look at that.”

The rich baritone of his voice coaxes unheard levels of confidence out of you; canting your hips back, you draw his fingers over your core, giving him unexpressed permission to enter you with the two fingers he’s been working through your cunt. The mirror gives you access to his features, impervious to propriety as they are: the sheen of sweat on his temples, the twist of his freckled lips, the slow bob of his throat as he teases a finger around your hole. You clench around the idea of him and he is good enough to sink a single finger in. With his other hand, he props your hips up.

In the mirror, you meet each other. The sweet, endearing nerd you had twisted your hair for in the video store is suddenly transformed into the stuff of romance books. Or a Hitchcock film. Yeah - Neil would like that reference. A positively Hitchcockian experience, the smolder of desire flashing dangerously in his eyes, like Gregory Peck with Ingrid Bergman in Spellbound. Like Cary Grant in—

“Oh.” Your nails grip onto the sink as his other hand slips down your front. Thrusting his thick finger slowly out of you, he presses two fingers over your clit, his cool lips grazing over your exposed shoulder. In this position - with his one hand focused on your clit and the other on your core - Neil’s body is completely enveloping your own. The poke of his erection on your ass is inspiring - not that you really need any inspiration. His fingers are more skilled than they have the right to be, curling inside of you, finding every nerve along your walls as he brushes, teasingly, over your sensitive clit.

When you think it can’t get any better — your body leaning back invitingly into his own, your mouth dry and desperate, the peak of your desire building and building, Neil enters another finger. His warm tongue finds a sensitive spot of your neck, and you grip the sink with renewed ferocity, feeling a dangerous, overwhelming sensation grip you.

“Oh, Neil,” you gasp, fingers carding through his hair, “I’m gonna—it feels like I might pee if you keep doing that.”

The groan that escapes his mouth, swiping hotly against the flesh of your neck, is positively guttural. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn warm and wet—“ his teeth scrap over your neck, “And you keep pressing your ass into my cock. Can hardly bear to stop this.”

He provides some alleviation by removing his hand from your clit, but he hones in on your cunt, gliding his fingers gently alongside your walls. Even through the sound of music, you can hear yourself — can hear the way your cunt beckons him in, welcomes the intrusion of him, despite your body so desperately feeling close to the point of exploding.

“Neil!” you call out with urgency, knowing you’re close to doing something you’re not prepared to. He relents when you reach behind, gripping onto his wrist, pleading. The absence of his fingers is noticeable as soon as he retracts them, but as you work at steadying your breath you feel somewhat grateful.

Smiling with a satisfied look in his eyes, he rests his dampened digits on your hips, and brings his lips to your ear. You watch him in the mirror, noting the glossy shine of your lips as he whispers, “God, you’re so fucking hot. I’ve wanted to do that—to do this—for so long. Thought about it—“ he drops his lips to spot behind your ear, murmuring, “—every time you’d come in.”

A slight return of his boyishness manifests itself in the lilt of his voice.

“Me too,” you reply, awed.

He grabs hold of your ass, pressing you lightly into the sink from the force of it. The coolness of the porcelain on the warmth of your exposed flesh makes you hiss through your teeth.

“Never thought this would actually happen, you know?” he says. It’s so genuine you can’t help the way a smile finds its way to your lips. He matches it with his own, looking every bit like the Neil you’ve known for months. But you don’t want that Neil—not now. You want a Neil who will fuck you from behind.

You grab a tuft of his hair as he gropes at your ass.

“I always imagined you fucking me over the counter like this,” you tell him purposefully, voice faux innocent. He hums, delighted by your words—you feel it in the way he’s begun to gently rock it into you. You drive the point further, pressing against him as you watch your mirrored reflections. Your eyes grow lidded, seducing. “Need your cock so bad, Neil,” you whisper.

He whimpers when you reach behind yourself, your hand on his cock. It’s the sweetest sound, but only half as good as the way his body lurches into your touch. He doesn’t need to say it for you to understand: he wants you this badly, too. It doesn’t take him long to reach for the band of his underwear, pushing them down to his ankles with his pants.

Wrapping his hand around your jaw, Neil guides your mouth to his. You arch into him, turning your head to meet his lips better. The resulting moan that you get when you lick into his mouth travels through you both. A string of saliva hangs between you as you part, detaching only when he says, “I’m gonna fuck you now, baby, just the way you wanted.”

You like him like this. It thrills you to know he exists in this form, that for all of his nervousness when you made pointed eye contact and shamelessly flirted at his store, he isn’t hesitant to be crude. You expected it of his friend, but this—it’s beyond what you could have imagined.

You watch as he focuses, the shadows of the bathroom painting over his face while he brings his cock to your entrance. Your fingers grip on the sink; already you can tell he is thick, that even though he has readied you, it will be a stretch.

Smirking, he looks back up to you. He is so achingly good looking, all sharp features, those stunning eyes of his lighting with a deep want. He swallows harshly as you share a moment, the head of his cock at your entrance, his fingers pressing into your hip, but nothing yet happening. You nod, and that is all the encouragement he needs; he presses in, a slow, careful motion.

As expected, it is a bit of a stretch. Wet as you are, it takes him a moment to work himself inside. Every careful inch of the way, you feel him: his veins against your walls, the fullness of him inside of you, the pleasure-pain of having to adjust to him. You worry your lip between your teeth in an attempt to stop a whine from falling out. From behind you, Neil looks positively blissed out as his hips draw nearer to your ass. He groans, looking at the place where your bodies connect.

“God, you’re so big,” you groan, reaching behind to touch the hand he has on your hip.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth as he slides back into. You can tell he is attempting to establish a rhythm, some place between his pleasure and yours. You can hardly stand it. You can feel the slick between your thighs, can sense just how badly your body wants him by how it welcomes him. You need him faster.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he mutters, licking his lips. He begins to draw you back into him, moving you on his cock with the guidance of your hips. His eyes flash to the mirror, and you know immediately what it is he’s looking at: your tits, the way they bounce over the edge of your shirt as you move. The longer he watches, the quicker his hips begin to move, seemingly spurred on by the simple motion.

His hand slides up your shirt, stroking your skin, until he is skirting his fingers underneath your bra. Once again, he draws you closer to his chest. This time he presses his lips next to your ear. “So tight, baby,” he growls. “Taking me so fuckin’ good. Look at you. So—so fuckin’ pretty, sliding back on my cock.”

You can tell he’s trying hard not to lose himself. You wrap an arm around his neck, adjusting. In this position, he pushes more deeply into you, his cock rutting against the top of your walls just right.

Neil rolls over your nipple with his thumb, and his tongue licks a sensitive patch on your neck as you slide back into him again. You’ve both begun to move faster, your movements desperate. He is no longer so concerned about his limits, too caught up in the ease with which your cunt takes him, and how delightfully you mewl each time he bottoms out in you.

The length of his thrusts begin to grow shorter. He barely lifts you off of him before drawing you back, his eyes once more to your chest. Even in the dim lighting, you can tell he’s got a heavy blush spreading across his cheeks—that he’s nearing completion with each unsteady thrust he pushes into you. Before it’s too late, you decide to touch yourself, reaching between your legs fingers to rub over your sensitive clit in the small space he’s put between you and the sink. He latches on to the sight almost immediately, hooked on the image of you as he is.

“Fuck,” he hums, almost reverently, drawing up the front of your skirt. You squirm against him, whimpering, and he nods. “Yeah, like that. Squeezing me so good, honey.”

A bit more roughly than you thought him capable of, Neil yanks the top of your bra down, exposing your tits. As you reach nearer to finishing, the desire in the pit of your stomach becomes nearly palpable. Neil uses one hand to play with your nipples again. His thrusts slow, becoming more purposeful. “Come for me,” he encourages, voice like Heaven, all low and rich, honey on your skin. You circle your clit faster, spurred on, wanting to pleasure him.

As the orgasm happens, the warm flush of it hitting you everywhere, he moans. A few earnest laughs fall out of his mouth too, as if he can’t believe he’s coaxed you to it.

“Fuck, I can feel it—fuck, yeah, baby,” he groans, his speed picking up. You let go of his neck, falling forward again. You’re so overcome with pleasure that when you hit the sink, the pain doesn’t even register. He thrusts inside of you, pressing you down into the porcelain. The bathroom is filled with the echoes of your bodies slapping against one another, even over the club music, and it’s so good, so delicious, evident in the etches of your faces as he finds his release.

Neil exits you without warning a few pumps later, his warm seed spelling over the back of your thighs. He gasps softly, burying himself in the crook of your neck. You’re both sweaty, the air thick around you, but still he wraps himself around you. In truth, you find it endearing, the way his arms wrap around you, how you can feel the quick thud, thud, thud of his heart against your back as you collect yourself.

When you come back to yourselves, Neil rubs an affectionate hand over your arm, meeting your eye in the mirror. “Sorry,” he says, sounding a bit sheepish. He gestures down to your thighs. “I didn’t—it just happened so quickly. I forgot to ask where I should."

You laugh softly, taking in the state of both in the mirror. Half of your makeup is smudged off, and your lips are puffy, and you’ve done a number on his hair, the back wild and mussed up from running your fingers through it. You’re both blown up pupils and uncaring, eager smiles, too, like teenagers who’ve just discovered sex. “It’s okay,” you assure. “I had fun.”

He squeezes your hip, grinning widely. “Me too. I was wondering–uh.” His nose scrunches and you can tell he’s returned to himself full force. There’s a waver in his voice and a blush on his cheek that’s not just residue from the sex, which is awfully reminiscent of each encounter you’ve had with him at his movie store. “I don’t fuck in bathrooms a lot either, so I’m unsure if this is breaking any of the pillow talk rules…”

He looks to you for assurance, and you smile, waiting patiently. He smiles weakly. “You wanna go to dinner with me sometime next week, maybe?” he asks.

It doesn’t take long for you to form a response. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Really?” He seems surprised.

“Yeah. It’s not every day a man fucks in you in a club bathroom and then ask you to dinner after. You’ve intrigued me.”

His dimples appear. “I’m glad because there’s a pizza place by the store that I love, and the owners have begun to ask me when I’m going to get a girlfriend. Even if it doesn’t work out between us, I think that’ll hold them off for a while.”

The laugh that you let out seems to come from within you, a delighted, true sound.

This won’t be so bad, you realize. There’s only one thing better than half priced movies and flirting with the man who owns the movie store: free ones and fucking him.

#watching the detectives #neil lewis #cillian murphy #neil lewis x reader #watching the detectives fanfic #cillian murphy fanfic #neil lewis smut #cillian murphy smut #neil lewis x you #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x reader

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bahrtofane · 1 year ago

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here we go again - pt.1

pt. 2 , pt.3

jude x fem!reader , trent x fem!reader

empty promise after another leaves you walking in the cold. alone. on valentines day. youre never speaking to another player again.

word count : 1K+

watch it : mild fluff, heavy on the angst, situationships, toxic relationships, Jude is kinda an ass in this one sorry, not very happy ending

happy valentines day LOL

—--

you and Jude have a complex history, complex relationship.

you aren't officially together but at the same time you are exclusive. it's odd, but it's what works at the moment, (even if you wish he would just grow the balls to make you his already.)

you get he's a busy guy, top player both club and international. you aren't going to force him to choose you or make him get with you while his career is soon about to peak.

your wishes for more soon fade into the background as he presses gentle kisses into your skin. he called you a few hours prior, wondering if you wanted to keep him company while he binges movies and orders you a pizza. you said yes, maybe a little foolishly. but it's hard to stay away from him.

he's addicting. maybe it's a rush of being with someone whose whole existence is so grand. maybe it's the fact of knowing you have what millions of others crave for. you don't know, you try not to read into the intricacies. bad habit.

so here you are, face pressed up against his chest while you lay side by side on this stupidly large couch, action movie playing, your pizza done, belly full and body warm.

"what are you thinking about love?" he mumbles.

"you." you shrug.

"me ?" he chuckles.

you hum, wiggling deeper into the pile of blankets.

"i've been thinking about you. and us." he confesses, almost shy. the movie playing in front of you has long fizzled out of your attention.

hey might as well rip the band aid off.

"me too," you hum, "why aren't we official again?"

you feel him sigh dramatically, "because my career."

you squint. there goes the same lousy explanation. "you could put more i don't know, thought into us."

he shifts under the blankets , "valentine's day is coming up. dont worry love i have it all planned out." he assures you.

"oh yeah ?" you tease

"just you wait, the best valentine's day ever." he kisses the top of your head soundly.

—--

worst fucking valenties day of your life. you don't remember being more livid a day in your life. you cant remember the last time so much pure rage burned through you, hot enough to hurt. you didn't think it was humanly possible to clench your fist so tight youve dug into your palm hard enough to draw blood.

your head hurts, your legs hurt, you think your arm is starting to bruise from where you were shoved into a table on "accident" but what would Jude know. he was so busy taking pictures with models and laughing at corny jokes while you kept yourself company. texting and calling didnt work and he didn't even try to give you any attention the whole night, you can't keep doing this with him.

"you can't just run off-" Jude shouts from somewhere behind you.

"or what Jude. or fucking what." you seeth, not bothering to face him, storming out into the night.

It's your fault for trusting him all those nights ago. your fault for falling for the same shit over and over.

he sprints to catch up to you, "i don't know why you're being like this."

you stop dead in your tracks, "oh i don't know, let's think. you didn't tell me your escorts would be there. and to top it all fucking off they have to nerve to be on my ass the whole night, not letting me get anywhere near you even through we walked in together?"

he doesn't respond and you half the mind not to punch the shit out of him, walking further away from the club you just came from, heels clanking against the sidewalk so hard it hurts, pulling on your dress so you dont trip and fall. maybe you should let it go so you can fall flat on your face. that would be a better ending to the night than seeing his face. silly stupid you thinking this would work.

"happy fucking valentines day huh Jude. you take me to a damn club, you ignore me the whole night, and you spend all your time surrounded by other women who might as well just suck you off right then and there." you yell, hell if anyone hears. you want them too, you want him to be as humiliated as you feel.

Bellinghams date thrown away the moment you step inside, ignored and tossed for some common whores. oh you can't wait to see where your face ends up online after tonight. you can see the headlines now.

he grabs your arm, making you face him, "love listen-"

"no, you dont get to fucking do that anymore. you cant keep sweet talking your way out of things when you fuck up. why can't you just pretend to care" your voice shakes, you can feel tears brimming in your eyes.

"i'm not trying to talk my way out of it, i'm trying to explain." he tries.

you yank your arm out of his grip, "i'm not listening anymore, im done. all i asked was one day for us, just valentines day to make things work. and you showed me you dont care enough for that."

"please, let me fix this." he pleads.

"its too late."

"i wanted things to work so fucking bad, and you humiliated me Jude. i imagined a nice dinner, hell i would have settled for take out and a few kisses. that's how bad i want things to work, that's how bad i wanted you." you tremble.

"please my darling. let's talk about this. come back inside and i'll show everyone that you are mine," he holds a hand out to you, waiting. silently pleading with each breath he takes.

the street lights dance across his skin as for a moment you almost believe him. for a moment you think about stepping back inside with him. you can't do that to yourself, not again.

"no, iim done. don't follow me, don't call me dont text nothing. i want nothing more to do with you." your firm, final. swallowing the lump that builds in your throat, youd be damned if he sees you cry after this fucking shit show.

he stops in his tracks at this, not bothering to try and stop you.

it hurts more than it should to leave him behind you, but you honest to god can not keep up with his lifestyle.

all those articles and rumors were right you suppose, he's an arrogant stuck up bastard with too much money to know what to do with, too cocky for his own good and destroys anything good that comes his way. you hope he's happy without you.

#jude x you #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x reader #jude x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham one shot #footballer angst #jude bellingham angst #footballer x reader #footballer fic #footballer one shot #footballer imagine #footballer x y/n #footballer x you

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seandiazworms · 1 year ago

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sean diaz fluff alphabet (rq)

(A) attractive - what do they find attractive about u? how do they show this?

sean is attracted to anyone or anything that deviates the norm. dyed hair, unique background/perspective, and unconventional features. literally anything u think is unattractive and not up to the beauty standard about u, he probably rlly digs it. hell draw it in his journal always! but not in a way that comes across performative—he just draws u authentically. he doesnt feel the need to modify how u look in his art bc he thinks ure perfect as is (booo corny).

he shows his attraction through flesh-blazing, skull-burning staring. he analyzes his muses thoroughly after all... he knows where all ur freckles/moles are and can draw ur smile from sheer memory. in the months that he crushed on u, u couldn’t help but feel this pestering feeling of being watched in class constantly.

hes still a dorky teenage boy so if u share the same music taste as him or have the same hobbies hell geek out!! “no way she can skate AND listens to my favorite songs…” lyla will just roll his eyes at him in response. he acts like tom from 500 days of summer 😭

(B) baby - how do they act around kids?

sean definitely says he hates kids. hell talk about how annoying they are and use daniel as an example ALWAYS. that however does not hide the fact that he is REALLY good with kids. i wouldnt say its in a fatherly way but kids tend to look up to him as a cool older brother (even when he doesnt try to be one).

sean also secretly loves it when ur good with kids, despite him allegedly hating them. he cant help but grin ear-to-ear when he sees how happy u make daniel. once he becomes self-aware he tries to wipe his smile off asap. when u, sean, and daniel go out u guys are practically his parents. both of u know how to shut down daniels whining fast. albeit sean does more of the hushed, frustrated demands and u just try to defuse daniel.

(if u guys have ever seen the video of jake and tara with that baby thats how i imagine u guys with kids 😈 except ur both a mix of tara n jake)

honestly the two of u can never decide who’s big spooning and who’s little spooning. to solve this issue the two of u just kind of… stack on top of each other.

esteban will do his routine dad check up on the two of u (preventing teen pregnancy) and walk into u guys jenga-ed on top of each other. ur legs are a tangled mess and u look like two corpses laid on top of each other. scrolling through ur phones while stacked is the go-to. ull be muffled chuckling into sean’s stomach at random videos for an hour…

while cuddling sean always traces little drawings/words on ur body. when u ask him whats hes drawing hell probably say its a dick LMFAO. so romantic 🙄

at the beginning of ur relationship, sean always felt the need to be the “man” and cradle u like some big infant. overtime he got more comfortable and whenever u guys watch movies on the couch hell be sprawled out on top of ur lap. one arm up supporting his head and a leg propped up like a princess xoxo

(D) dates - what are dates with them like? what do they like to do?

concerts, fairs!!! and MOVIES for sure

sean casually drops half his check on good seats for one of ur guys favorite band. the two of u have a tradition of replaying their music for weeks until the concerts about to start. it literally does not matter how many times uve gone to concerts with sean—u guys stay excited every single time. the after concert high is so good and u guys always kiss in the car afterwards. the two of u mess up each other’s hair and shuffle back in ur seats with swollen lips. sean backs out the parking lot while awkwardly clearing his throat 😭

SEAN IS SUCH A BIG FAIR GUY. he gives less than two shits if the pop-up fairs are shady and will probably collapse at the slightest gust of wind. he WILL take u on all the janky rides and tease u for being freaked out. he holds ur hand while giggling like a lil boy on the ferris wheel bc the creaking starts to freak the both of u out. he also tries to win fair prizes for u and say its a “bullshit scam” when he loses.

u beg him to go into the photobooth and take cute little couple-esque photos. he says “fineee” after some convincing with a smile and he avoids ur gaze after too. he definitely secretly wanted to the whole time though!! when they print out, they come out with those face-adjusting filters. u guys are WHEEZING laughing in front of the slot where they regurgitate out those abominations. sean puts it on the back of his phone case bc he thinks its so hilarious 😭

sean is a film nerd considering he had goodlands on his laptop. hes definitely up to date on any movie releases and will want to watch anything new with u. u guys always dissect the movie aggressively afterwards. the both of u will forever and always argue about which characters u liked and didnt over some takeout.

(E) equal - are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

sean on the regular is passive. he never was the “dominant” type to like… back u into corners. in fact he was really awkward when u first met him. hes lowkey scared of women 😭

it took him a while to get comfortable/assertive. by “comfortable” i mean gaining the ability to tease u back LMAO. when he first gave u a snarky remark ur jaw kind of hung open and u guys HAVENT STOPPED SINCE. overall, sean usually was the one to wait for u to initiate something. he never wanted to put u in a situation ud be uncomfortable with.

(F) fight - would they be easy to forgive their s/o? how are they fighting?

u guys fight like an old married couple. playful arguments always happen but once it becomes serious/personal things go south. one thing leads to another and the two of u just get agitated with each other

when u guys do seriously fight sean eventually lets u have ur way ALWAYS. he always prioritizes what u need/feel in the end and is really good at saying sorry. a part of him feels like big fights indicate ull leave him so hell always choke out things like “i just dont wanna lose you” after arguments. it sounds really dramatic but he has DEEP-rooted abandonment issues. hell hold u—whether it be an embrace or ur hand just to feel comforted afterwards.

(G) gentle - how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

GAWWWWWWWWWDAUH sean is so incredibly very gentle. sure, he teases u sometimes but in the end, again, he always makes sure ur comfortable! he asks u if ur okay when u look clearly overstimulated/out of it.

physically, sean doesnt mess around. he will constantly playfully shove u, mess with ur hair, etc. obviously its never to the point where it hurts but this is the only way he can get his daily dose of pda, so!

(H) hugs - do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?

sean is crazy on back hugs. he will always surprise u with one and he WILL trap u in it. ull be walking around his house and chatting with his leech-self wrapped around u. he likes nuzzling his nose in and u can feel his lips curl into a smile on the nape of ur neck when u make a joke (😢)

sean takes the opportunity to embrace u at any moment of privacy hes given. when daniel or esteban catches him he immediately flings off u and starts stuttering LMAO. hes kind of lanky so if anything his clothes are what cushion u. BUT he is very warm and is a personal heater #tbh. who needs a coat when u have sean???

(I) i love you - how fast did they say the l-word?

i feel sean is VERY quick to fall in love but takes forever to actually utter the words out. he will have a love at first sight moment with u and only have the feelings grow bigger and bigger as time goes on. sean is overall a reserved person and wouldnt go out of his way to tell u, no matter how much lyla encouraged him.

he would only say it once it becomes overbearing for him. like, to the point where the extent he loves u has become pervasive and PERSISTENT. it will just explode out of him at some pivotal moment. u guys will be laughing hysterically at something only u guys would laugh at. then, boom, it slips out like its something he had to swallow back down a hundred times before. because its so sudden, it will definitely catch u off guard.

he would repeat it because he didnt think u heard it the first time like a dork. his stomach acid is doing fucking somersaults at this point. u will visibly see this guy’s face drop and his hands start to fiddle anxiously. his eyes will kind of dart all over ur shocked face in fear. he’ll choke a lil “sorry i have no clue why i even said that-“

u lean in and the rest is history 🤓

(J) jealousy - how jealous do they get? when do they get jealous?

sean is always a bit wary of specific guy friends or potential suitors u have in ur life. again, sean picks up on LOTS that most people brush over. he knows when people flirt with u and he always bites his tongue before he says anything.

whenever u talk about other people too much, he gets a little… sassy. ull be thanking some guy in ur class for giving u the answers and hell be grumbling “i wouldve gave them to u…” under his breath. u shoot a look at him and he just defensively puts his arms up LMAO. he never seems to stop either. the amount of times u caught him rolling his eyes… criminal.

(K) kisses - what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss u? where do they like to be kissed?

sean is so shy when it comes to kisses. when u first began dating, sean never kissed u without a shy “can i?” before. he never knew when was appropriate or if u wanted to kiss him at all. his ears would flare up in red and his eyebrows would furrow in concentration each time.

overtime, as he got more comfortable, sean began finding the “right times” himself. whenever u leave his house he always gives u a quick peck. daniel never misses his opportunity to scream “EWW” as loud as he can. sean will be like “one more” and smooch ur cheek and then say “wait another one” and just KEEP GOING. if he wore lipstick u would look like u were dunked in a pig’s blood.

smiling into the kiss happens without fail—every single time. sean cant help himself, hes a lover boy!! he will always slowly open his eyes and pray u wont catch him sneaking a look. once he pulls away, he laughs while covering his mouth with his wrist. he gets butterflies still, no matter how many times u kiss 😭 im sick.

(L) love language - what is his love language?

sean’s family is big on quality time so he definitely prioritizes it. impromptu hangouts are his absolute favorite and if he could, hed spend every hour he could with u. sean never fails to randomly invite u over and hold u at gunpoint to do family time with him, daniel, and esteban.

also sean is a big gift giver! he will always give u doodles of ur favorite characters and little things that remind him of u. u guys have matching pins, keychains, bracelets, etc. not only does he go all out, but he also knows EXACTLY what u like. again, sean is the most attentive bf ever. hes the kind of man who would spend hours making coraline dolls of u two.

(M) mornings - how are mornings spent with him?

sean is not a morning person. he is almost always running late to first period, so oftentimes u cover for him. he will come to class with messy hair and will lizard-blink at literally anything u say. when u tell him that u gave the teacher an excuse, hell let out a croak-ey "thanks" and he will on a 99% chance knock out right after. he'll probably dazily open his eyes at u every so often and go back to sleep LMAO.

on weekends, sean will... barely be awake for mornings. ull be up and ready, watching hawt dawg man on the couch with daniel while eating cereal. sean shortly comes out of his mancave, stretching and yawning. hell come to lean on ur shoulder and stare blankly at the screen. its never particularly productive but sean couldnt care less honestly.

(N) nicknames -what does he call u?

sean has a disdain for nicknames. uttering any of them out loud just seemed so embarrassing to him… unless he’s making fun of them. he does however love “girlfriend.” its not exactly a nickname but he loves saying ur his girlfriend or “my girlfriends coming over” to people.

at a certain point he started using it in sentences that wouldn’t make sense. he’d go “hi girlfriend” every time he sees u. he’s so stew peed… 😢

(O) on cloud nine what is he like when he’s in love? is it obvious for others?

lyla never hears the end of u. shell be talking about something entirely unrelated and sean will be disassociating with his mouth open. when he finally snaps back into reality the first thing that comes out of his mouth is “do u think she would find it a turn off that u drive me everywhere?…“

“yeah obviously— were u even listening sean?”

“mm okay…” he just goes back to tuning her out again LMAO.

esteban will be asking for his tools from sean and he’d be totally zoned out just thinking about u. esteban will pull himself out from under the car and groan “augh… lover boy…” without sean even saying anything to him… so yes hes obvious.

(P) pda - is he upfront about your relationship? does he brag about you with others? or he rather shy to kiss, etc. when others are watching?

i already wrote on this but sean would rather keep intimate contact privately. that is, unless hes really in the heat of the moment. for example, at a concert hed just get so riled up. the lyrics of the song perfectly aligning with the way he feels about u MIGHTTT just make him collide lips with u, who knows! at special moments he won’t hesitate to kiss u but he’s just usually not a show-ey person.

too many times have the two of u attempted to sneak away to be romantic alone and gotten caught. whether it be lyla, esteban, daniel, or any of sean’s guy friends—they always tease u guys. lyla is so dramatic and she’d probably do the most, screaming and squawking when all she sees is sean hugging u 😭

(Q) quizzes - how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?

just like i mentioned earlier, sean remembers every little thing. he knows which side of ur smile leans more toward, the distinctive mole on ur arm, etc etc etc. he loves u like how a husband with a camcorder loves his late wife <3

sean has pulled multiple joe goldbergs before u started dating. he will give u some small knick knack of ur favorite video game/show/band and ull thank him, visibly confused on when u mentioned it. hell notice and just go “i heard u talk about it like three months ago.” he only realizes HOURS LATER how creepy he sounded and his ass will start sliding down a wall dramatically in his room.

(R) rosy - what makes them blush?

sean is quick to blush. honestly, any time u guys are intimate in any sort of way his ears are probably burning up. he’ll try to hide that he’s nervous by giving u quick one-liners back but inside his heart is RACING.

(S) security - how protective are they? how would they protect you?

sean goes to great lengths to protect people he loves, like u. in relation to actual life is strange 2 lore, sean definitely does anything in his power to not involve u in the incident. if u try to contact him or find him, he’ll probably be EXTREMELY upset. at first, all he can think about is how much he wants u away from all this mess. he just wants u to live a normal life—and if that meant being far away from him he’d be okay with it. u would beg him to let u back in his life and eventually, with much hesitation, he’d oblige. keeping u alongside daniel on the road allowed u to see another side to sean. he had been hit and came back up so many times just for u. all he wants in his life is to keep u safe.

exempt from life is strange 2 lore, sean always does little things to keep u safe. there are many times where he treats u like daniel—aka a big baby LMAO. he’s big on acts of service as well so he’ll always make u walk on the inside of the sidewalk, hold ur hair away from ur face when it’s windy, help u jump off of places too high up, etc.

(T) try - how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?

he’s so bf coded of course he puts maximum effort at all times! he gets crafty for you every anniversary—a collection of drawings of u and a curated playlist/burnt cd is the MINIMUM he’s capable of. he’s the kind of boyfriend that can actually pick up on subtleties. something u mentioned liking once? it’s now in his cart.

when sean feels like switching it up he’ll try to do things he’s not used to like pottery and completely fail ��. he has some place in the back of his closet for all the clunky diy gifts he’s tried to make for u in the past. despite this, he’ll give u a perfect trinket dish and u’ll wonder how he’s so good at everything… well, one day in his room he’ll ask u to go get something from his closet. u go inside and see a cardboard box with 15 versions of that very same trinket dish he made.

(U) understanding - how well do they know their partner?

sean does his best at understanding you as a person. when u talk about complicated emotions and unique experiences he doesn’t quite share, he’ll have this really pensive expression. he nods along and tries to understand ur perspective to the best of his ability. because of this, its really easy to open up to sean.

sean has you down to a T. hes so so so perceptive and knows when u feel uncomfortable. a small falter in ur smile, the glossy glint in ur eyes, ur lip quivering, he sees it ALL. he will immediately try to get u out of whatever situation ure in.

(V) vanity - how concerned are they with looks?

he could give less than two farts tbh. he loves when u look like a mess, more drawing opportunities for him. he however will make a big deal about looking good in front of u. he will be styling his hair for an hour in front of the mirror before going on a date with u, hogging the bathroom. he also practices the way he approaches u and lays out his outfits to impress u LMAO.

(X) xtra headcanon

sean loves cats so much. if u have a cat, he will spend the whole time at ur house trying to befriend them. bro will be crawling all over ur house on all fours... it gets to the point where u guys can never pass by a petsmart without sean making an impromptu visit to see the cats. plus, u guys have matching cat profile pictures!!!

(Y) yearning - how will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

sean coops up and calls and texts u as much as u can. its to the extent where he will send u nonsensical texts just so he can open ur guys' chat. ur phone will be vibrating so much and out of curiosity ull open it to just see random symbols and letters strung together. he'll send u random photos throughout the day that remind him of u and make unplanned video calls. u guys do mundane tasks together in silence for HOURS. they never fail to end with him just falling asleep on call.

(Z) zzz - what are their sleep habits?

sean is NOT a morning person. because daniel’s usually the one that wakes him up, he will slam a pillow into ur face when ur just trying to wake him up. he will open his eyes to see u and mumble a “shit sorry…” and snake his hand around u back into bed. he will hold u PRISONER under those sheets. if u try to shuffle out he will snake another arm around u. u're essentially held hostage until sean decides he wants to set u free... cruel world.

unfortunately i feel like this is very lackluster and COULDVE BEEN BETTER idk. also not proofread so sorry if this was... inchuresting to read... it also sucked me dry so i think i may have to start writing ACTUAL fanfics instead of hcs😢😢😢 thank u if u did enjoy though...

#life is strange 2 #sean diaz #sean diaz hcs #sean diaz x reader #daniel diaz #esteban diaz

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lueurjun · 1 year ago

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“ let’s just get married ” | heeseung and jay.

the boys reaction to you suddenly professing that you would in fact, like to get married.

. . . . . . . ꒰ HEESEUNG ꒱ ,,

give him a sec

he’s rebooting

his mind went through an unplanned update

because clearly there’s something wrong with it since he swears he just heard you tell him you wanna get married

“hUh?”

you don’t seem to catch onto his confusion in the slightest

because you’re just sat cheesin

you after breaking your boyf 😃

“like… in a couple of years?”

you shake your head, still grinning as though you just won the lottery

heeseung gulps so loud you can hear it from half way across the world

it’s true. i heard it from here.

to be honest—bros petrified

not that he doesn’t want to marry you

he has visions of it

breaking news! lee heeseung is really that’s so raven confirmed!

but now it’s perhaps a little too early for him

still the look on your face had his heart shitting itself

because you look so excited

and telling you to wait would probably break your heart

which lee heeseung would never do

cos then he’d have to go through me. and i have watched kung fu panda. i know my shit.

so he wraps his arms around your waist and draws you in until your foreheads are touching.

cant see his panicked expression if he connects foreheads

and with a thudding heart, he manages to choke out a reply

“then let’s get married.”

imagine i wrote ‘then marry someone else’. oof the drama would be out of this world

now it’s your turn to be panicked

because the reality of it all comes crashing down on you like a thundering avalanche

and suddenly you’re pushing him away

“i don’t want to.”

hA NOT YOU REJECTING HIM AFTER SENDING HIM THROUGH EMOTIONAL TURMOIL

heeseung just blinks at you

because weren’t you the one who proposed this idea?

what do you mean ‘you don’t want to?’

now he’s hurt

because why don’t you want to marry him?

“is it something i said?”

he’s frowning now, resembling a puppy that just got kicked

“no! no! it was just in the moment-you know? you just looked perfect and i felt perfect with you and i got carried away. that doesn’t mean i don’t want to marry you in the future! i think we should just wait.”

heeseung breathes a sigh of relief and pulls you back into his arms

“i’m so glad you think so because i am not ready for marriage yet—but with that being said, i will stick the biggest diamond on your finger when i am.”

compensation for making you wait—heeseung is in fact a sugar daddy 💸

he holds you tighter, and your gaze shifts to his ring finger, a fleeting moment of daydreaming how handsome he'd look with a wedding ring on

your mind is suddenly alive with visions of what married life with heeseung would be like, a flurry of images quickly cascading through your imagination

and suddenly, a familiar feeling tugs in your heart

cheekily, you grin up at him

“i’ve changed my mind. i wanna get married again.”

lord help him

. . . . . . . ꒰ JAY ꒱ ,,

did somebody say something?

no really…did they? he had earphones in and heard absolutely none of what you said

me every minute of everyday

he’s bobbing his head to his music without a care in the world

thriving in — unmarried — life, unburdened by any adult responsibilities or worries

he’s truly blissful

until you yank those earphones out of his ears and peer down at him with a scornful gaze

you could’ve sworn he had paused his music when you entered the room

“hey baby.”

i have been watching a lot of drew starkey edits and his ‘hey baby’ is imprinted in my mind so it must be applied to jay. i do not make the rules.

his face is lit up with an endearing smile, his eyes full of affection as he looks lovingly at you

which makes you smile and gaze back at him with the same expression

“i said, would you marry me?”

naturally, jay assumes that you’re just thinking about the future

which is totally natural in a relationship

so he doesn’t think anything of it when he shrugs his shoulders

“i’d marry you tomorrow.”

same. i’d marry you better than him tbh

now jay loves you

his love for you is as constant and timeless as the sun's relationship with the sky

but he wasn’t being literal. marriage is a huge step and as much as he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you

he felt he was still too young

you didn’t seem to realize that it was just an expression because you started beaming

and jay, not realizing you had taken this literally and assumed you just liked the idea of marrying him in the future, beamed back at you

“great! we should look into venues—no! why don’t we fly to vegas? how does one elope? jay! we should look into eloping.”

at first, he's simply enthralled by the sound of your voice

but then the words register and suddenly he’s hyperventilating

he’s so real for that

“wha- el-eloping? like-in the future…possibly in like five years? maybe seven—”

“no? now! you said you wanted to get married tomorrow and i’ve been thinking that maybe we should? i mean, i don’t want anyone else and imagine married life jay! it would be perfect!"

married life with you would be perfect

jay would love nothing more than to wake up beside you every morning, a wedding band adorning your finger and sharing the same last name

he’d love to introduce you as his spouse, the idea of it alone gives him butterflies

but marriage is a huge commitment

“i mean it would but right now?”

hearing the panic in exchange for excitement, the bubble surrounding you pops

and suddenly, you’re no longer the embodiment of happiness

but disappointment

forget ksi and tommy fury, im gonna be in the ring with jay if he doesn’t marry the life out of you

his heart shatters at the look on your face and that alone has him reconsidering

he plans to marry you in the future, might as well keep that gorgeous smile on your face and push the date forward

“you don’t wanna marry me?”

he reaches out to you, taking your hands in his and guiding you to sit next to him. the closeness is almost overwhelming, and you can feel the warmth of his body as he pulls you onto his lap

bro i’m blushin rn!! look away. i don’t want you to see me like this

jay wastes no time showering your face with passionate kisses, eliciting an gradually forming smile from you

“no. no-i do wanna marry you, more than anything! but it’s just a little early, we can wait a few more years. time with you flies anyway so it won’t even be that long of a wait technically, we’re just… a bit too young yet.”

he’s right, and you hate admitting it

nah don’t fold bae. get that ring 💍

slumping your shoulders, you nod your head with a sigh

“i guess you’re right. i got a little too carried away. i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to pressure you…”

jay shakes his head, planting a kiss on both of your cheeks, then your nose and then finally, your lips, though he lets that one linger

that alone manages to lift your mood drastically

“how about, we settle for a promise ring?”

your heart swells with emotion at the sweet sentiment and you find yourself unable to resist leaning in and gently pressing your lips to his once more

after a moment — or several — he finally pulls away and laughs

“i take it you like that idea?”

“i do”

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mrsharrington83 · 11 months ago

Text

Idiots in Love

REQUESTED – My asks are open if you have a request ^_^

Summary; (For the sake of this fic, Steve and Nancy never happened) Steve and reader being dumb and having moments of being iconic together. Since everyone knows that Steve isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, maybe he just needs another person to be as dumb as him or maybe he just needs someone else to match him mentally.

Words; 3.4k

warnings; swearing, usual stranger things, things, slight mention of drug use, blood and injury. not proof read.

A/N; thank you for all the requests! I apologise for taking so long getting through them all. i cant write a 0.5k-1.0k fic for the life of me at the minute! Its 2am for me now, but i really wanted to get this out!

Dustin said Steve was an idiot because he had too much hair on top of his head which left too much room for air. For you, Dustin said it was because you’d been around Steve for far too long.

Hawkins, Indiana, 1983.

School was a bore, you tried your hardest and whilst you did ace some classes, you also completely failed in others. Picking up extra tuition and getting help from anyone who would give it to you was a struggle. You didn’t like asking for help, it made you feel dumb, but more than that, it made you feel useless. Why did you struggle so much in certain classes and not in others?

You honestly thought it was from a fall you had as a child when you were learning how to ride a bike. Your father had stupidly taken off your stabiliser wheels and let you go on the hill of your childhood garden, right into a tree. Whilst you were fine overall, you did end up with a nasty bump on your head.

Not only were you not that smart academically, but you were also very accident-prone, which is how you met Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington. You weren’t the most popular person in school, you had a small group of friends and that was enough for you. You didn’t want to be known by everyone. As you walked down the busy hall to your locker, hardly taking in your surroundings and paying attention, you slammed into someone’s back. Your extra tuition books and folders fell to the floor,

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going!” The person you slammed into turned around, Steve Harrington, one of the most popular, sought for guys in school looking down at you, “I- I” you stuttered and he smiled, placing his sunglasses on the top of his head, he always found your first meeting adorable, it was something the party had heard several times and not got bored of hearing it. The nervousness in your eyes, the way you pushed some of your hair back behind your ear. The way you bent down to get your books, just as he was doing the same. Your heads collided and bounced off each other, his glasses joining your books on the floor, thankfully not broken,

“Shit! Sorry!” It was Steve’s turn to apologise as he slipped his discarded glasses into his pocket and pulled all of your books and folders into his arms, standing quickly so as not to embarrass himself further, “are you okay?” you just laughed and nodded, taking the books from his arms as you thanked him. That was the start of yours twos budding romance.

Hawkins, Indiana, October, 1984

It was a constant source of amusement for the party, they couldn’t believe some of the stuff you and Steve came out with half the time and how you were both so in sync,

***

“Maybe if we set this on fire,” Mike stated as he looked toward all the drawings on the floor,

“Oh, yeah. That’s a no.” Steve bites back, shaking his head, throwing a tea towel over his shoulder as he leaned on one foot, hand on his hip,

“A double no at that,” you called back to scrambling kids who were already gathering supplies and pointing at drawings on the floor,

“The mind flayer would call away his army,”

“They’d all come to stop us,”

“We circle back to the exit,”

“Guys.” Steve interrupted the party as they carried on talking between themselves, rushing around, completely ignoring the two older people in the house,

“By the time they realise we’re gone-“

“El would be at the gate,”

“HEY, HEY, HEY, this is not happening!” You and Steve bellowed over the party as they stopped to look at the both of you, your arms falling around as Steve grabbed the tea towel from his shoulder, whipping the air,

“Do you two share the same brain cell?” Dustin looked towards you both,

“No!” you both shouted in unison again, looking towards each other before laughing, the kids joining you.

***

They were all ecstatic when they found out you were both dating, though they did have to push you both in the right direction, this whole thing was an unlikely friendship between people. The only reason you were involved with Dustin and his friends was because you babysat him whilst his mum was at work, this caused you to get involved with the disappearance of Will last year and in turn, with you being close to Steve. He was brought into the mix also.

It was so obvious to others, how you both felt about each other, but it wasn’t for you and Steve. After some coxing and words of wisdom from the younger party, as you called it. You and Steve were finally an item, though they didn’t find out until months later when Steve let it slip,

“Dustin, stop picking on my girlfriend, would you?” Steve looked up from his plate of food as he moved bacon around with his fork, leaning back against the dining room chair as he stretched,

“But she just- wait? What... girlfriend?” Dustin looked back and forth between you both, the pair of you looking confused, “you’re meant to tell us!” Steve carried on moving food around his plate as you took a bite of toast leaning against the counter,

“Tell you what?” you asked wiping the crumbs off your hands onto a discarded tea towel,

“Have you been listening to any of this conversation?!” Dustin questioned, “That you’re together! I can’t believe this! How long have you two been a thing?! Wait until the others find out about this!” You picked up your plate with half a slice of toast left and took a seat opposite Steve as Dustin still stood shocked, playing with his walkie,

Steve finished up his food and stood up to put his plate in the sink, he looked at the calendar furrowing his brows slightly at the small writing, “Like seven months? Right?” he looked back at you as you nodded, your mouth full of toast.

Dustin once again stood dumbfounded, his mouth visibly agape as he pressed a button on his walkie, “you are not going to believe this, guys.”

Hawkins, Indiana, June 1985

“Oh, this is ridiculous.” You smoothed out part of your Scoops uniform that was now creased and bloody from your split lip and Steve’s as he was continuously hunching over you in a Russian loading car trying to gather his senses and not be knocked from pillar to post by Dustin’s driving up front, laughter bubbling in your throat, the situation was anything, but funny. All three of you (Steve, Y/N, and Robin) had been interrogated to the max, but once they found out there was a tie between you and Steve, they took advantage of that.

***

“Who do you work for?” the guard got down into your face once more, holding the arms of the chair you were tied to, his eyes glaring into your own,

“How many times do I have to tell you I work for Scoops Ahoy? I scoop ice cream for a living!” you cried out as you earned another slap across your already throbbing jaw. Steve was tied up behind you already passed out, they’d done a number on him and all you wanted to do was get out of this place and tend to his injuries, he didn’t deserve any of this. Robin was tied to the corner of the room having to witness her two new best friends being treated like this.

The Russian guard got in your face once more, “it looks like your friend here needs a doctor. Just as well we have the very best.” A smirk across his face made you see red, and without thinking you spat at him. A slight tinge of blood from your split lip was dripping down your chin, staining the collar of your uniform, “you’re going to regret that little one.” With that he muttered something else in Russian before leaving the room with the other guards, leaving you three on your own once more, but not without Robin calling them all bastards and yelling to let you all out of there.

“Steve?” you called gently as Robin tried to manoeuvre her arms from her binds to no avail. Unlike you two, she was tied to a bench so she couldn’t do much whilst she was bound up. Steve started to stir, pain evident in the way he groaned, “oh thank god... are you okay?” you asked quietly not wanting to be too loud,

“Ears are ringing, I can barely breathe and, my eye feels like it’s about to pop out of my skull, but apart from that I’m doing pretty good.” His voice was laced with pain and sarcasm.

***

You were pulled out of your thoughts as you came to an abrupt end, all three of you hitting already pained parts of your body as Dustin crashed into something,

“You guys alright back there?” Dustin asked as he looked to Erica with a slight shrug, “They’re fine, come on. Let’s go.” Dustin hurried out and opened the back of the loading car, hurrying you all out. Time was of the essence after all. This definitely made him think about how he acted sometimes, it was a handful and the fact you and Steve cared for him and all of his friends ample times made him furrow his brow slightly, not that he would change after they got out of this mess, he had an excuse, he was still younger than you.

“Guys! Come on!” Dustin bellowed as he huffed in annoyance, slapping his wrist, and ushering everyone into the elevator.

“Oh my god! A skateboard!” you screamed out in joy, jumping on a red platform truck as Dustin got to work pressing buttons and hoping for the best, once the elevator started to move, you started to struggle. Steve grabbed hold of the platform truck to stop it from moving too much,

“It looks like you're surfing!” Robin pointed at you as Dustin and Erica glanced at each other quite clearly done with your shit.

“They look drunk,” Erica stated, all of you now splayed on the floor talking about food, “why are they drunk, or drugged?” she questioned as Dustin felt Steve’s forehead,

“He’s burning up,” Dustin spoke to Erica alarmed,

“You’re burning up” Steve bit back, trying to push Dustin away with his hand whilst you and Robin laughed at the ceiling,

“Eyes are bloodshot, pupils dilated, Steve,” Dustin pat his cheek lightly, “are you drugged?”

“How many times, Dad? I don’t do drugs. It’s only marijuana.” Steve poked Dustin’s cheek and started laughing again as you and Robin shot up,

“you have marijuana?!” you crawled over to Steve and laid next to him, “gimme!” more laughs erupted from the three of you as Dustin and Erica watched on, wondering what the hell they were going to do to get you all out of this mess in one piece.

Getting you all back to the mall safely was a lot harder than Dustin could have imagined, Robin was picking at her uniform whilst tripping up over thin air whilst you and Steve were trailing behind humming and drumming the air to Simple Minds- Don’t You (Forget About Me) a song that had been on the radio continuously for the past month- a song Dustin thought you were both getting annoyed with as it came on the radio hours before you were in this mess and you were both scrambling with the radio to turn it off with rushed words of, fuck sake, turn it off, not this again, if I hear this song one more time I swear,

“Don’t you, forget about me.”

“Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t.”

“Don’t you, forget about me.”

Keeping you all hidden from the Russians was a lot harder than it could have been, with you three wanting food, and then trying to separate to find food, Dustin thought of a quick solution and got you all into the movie theatre but not before Steve reached into the bin to pull out a bag of discarded popcorn,

“You three sit.” Dustin pointed at the three vacant chairs as you all complained about being too close, and how the seats sucked. “Well then don’t watch the movie!”

“But we want to watch the movie!” Robin exclaimed as other people around you started to get agitated,

“Then watch it!” Dustin apologised to other people trying to shush you all, changing his tone to a hushed annoyed whisper, “Whatever you do. Don’t... go... anywhere.”

“Fine, Dad.” Steve perked up shaking his shoulders slightly as you and Robin snickered, taking handfuls of popcorn and shoving it in your mouth.

“That settles it,” Dustin huffed, “I'm never having kids." The pair sat down a few seats away, keeping their eyes off you trying to fetch up a plan.

Once they both realised you three had left the movie theatre, Dustin let out an audible sigh from his chest, this day, was not it.

“So, like, I wasn’t totally focused in there or anything, but... I’m pretty sure...that mum was trying to bang her son.” Robin leaned against the wall as you and Steve took turns drinking water from the fountain,

“But they’re the same age.” you stopped drinking and looked towards Robin,

“No, but he went back in time.” Robin looked up to the ceiling, balancing on one foot and then the other,

“Then why is it called back to the future?” Steve asked confused as he stopped drinking, letting Robin get to the fountain.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” you stated “Back means past so how could he be travelling back to something that hasn’t even happened yet?” you questioned Robin, Steve looking at you doe-eyed, completely agreeing with you,

“He has to go back to the future because he’s in the past, so, the future is actually the present, which is his time” Robin added as you looked confused,

“wh...What?” you and Steve looked at each other astonished before you both got distracted by the ceiling lights, dizziness, and churning in your stomach had you all rushing to the toilet, bringing up everything that happened in the day.

“Well that was no fun,” your voice was harsh, your throat sore as you leaned back against the cold wall of the cubical, no longer dizzy, everything still, the walls no longer moving around you, “Back to the Future though, I can’t get over that.”

***

Hawkins, Indiana, March 1986

Walking into the creel house was way more disturbing than it looked outside, creaking floorboards, furnishings covered in dust and cobwebs, completely derelict, wherever you stood, something creaked.

Lucas went to check on a small lamp for some light, probably to take the edge off an already eerie situation, “looks like someone forgot to pay their electric bill.” He stated as Dustin turned on his flashlight, you and Steve stood behind him glancing back and forth to each other,

“Where’d everyone get those?” Steve asked noticing that everyone had one except you and him.

Dustin looked back at the both of you as if to say unbelievable, “Do you two need to be told everything? You’re not children.”

“Thank you.” You said under your breath a little, huffing as Dustin took his backpack off,

“Back pocket.” He was used to you both forgetting things like that, you were both usually good with weapons and things you might need, and everything you didn’t, but never flashlights. You really did need to be told.

Max pointed out a big grandfather clock, hoping that everyone else could see it taking you away from looking at the scattered furniture,

“Why is this wizard obsessed with clocks?” you asked looking at the hands that were still,

“Maybe he’s, like, a clockmaker or something?” Steve said next to you, as you pursed your lips actually thinking about it,

"I think you cracked the case, Steve.” Dustin chimed in, shaking his head in disapproval as you watched on, nudging Dustin slightly. Nancy told everyone to go in groups of two leaving you, Steve and a smiling Dustin. Steve let out a sigh and walked off signalling you to follow, “Was that a sigh?”

“No, I did not sigh.”

“Why’d you sigh?”

“I didn’t sigh. Just come on, dude.”

“I heard you.”

“We were just always partnered up with you, okay?”

“You have a problem with that?”

“It’d just be nice to, I don’t know, mix it up a bit.”

You continued to walk the stairs, creaking with every other step, as Dustin hurried up behind you, the pair of them starting to bicker a bit, a usual occurrence, “I’m boring to you? Is that it?”

“No it’s the opposite,” Steve added as he moved his (Dustin’s) flashlight around careful not to knock anything off the walls,

“Maybe me and Y/N should partner up and you go around this creepy house alone, is that what you want?” Dustin asked as Steve shot his head around almost tumbling back down the stairs,

“No! I don’t want that, sorry man.” Steve moved his hair that had fallen a little flat huffing once more. “We do make a good team, The Three Musketeers and all that.” You smiled at Steve’s remark, it was a book you both had to read when you were at school, though boring at the time, the lessons you learned from the book stayed with you. Chivalry, honour, heroics, and willingness. It was true. You, Steve, and Dustin probably had spent the most time together because even though you could both be a bit daft from time to time, you were both reliable and trustworthy with any problem Dustin had, even if that meant issues outside of the upside down. You both never found anything that Dustin had to say daft.

“Hey, uh, Henderson?” Steve asked, looking at the cobwebs that littered the place, “could you maybe, uh, clarify what sort of clues we’re supposed to be looking for here?”

“I second that,” you cut in,

“The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes.” Dustin looked back at the both of you smiling, “Sherlock Holmes.” Seeing you both confused he huffed sincerely.

“That’s great. Thanks. That’s great. Really helpful” You huffed and shook your head, feeling dumb as Steve placed a hand on your shoulder, rubbing his thumb slowly, a knowing glance only the both of you understood.

“You're not stupid, not to me anyway.” Steve smiled as a small laugh escaped your lips a small vent in the floor catching your eyeline as you walked over to it, “Y/N, let me.” Steve crouched down in front of you lifting the metal from the floor, jars of preserved insects had you grimacing before Steve shot up alarmed, shaking his arm and flailing his hand to get a spider off, both of you clumsily falling through cobwebs and the door, into Nancy,

“Hey, hey, both of you, stay still. Stop moving.” She took time to rid you both of cobwebs as she lightly dusted dust off your arm, you and Steve then looking over each other,

“It was a black widow.” Steve lets out a breath of air, calmer than he was before, “Don’t go in there.” He shut the door adverting his attention back to you, moving a stray piece of your hair behind your ear, kissing your nose lightly. “So uh, Nance. Maybe after we find Vecna, kill him, save the world, and stuff. Maybe we can all go out. You know? Me, Y/N, you, Jonathan, when he’s back.”

“I’d love to.” Nancy looked at you both endearingly, she was glad you both had each other. Everyone needed someone. She knew you both back in school, but never really spoke to either of you. She was too wrapped up in perfecting her grades, reading the next book on the shelf, but she was so thankful to be in your lives now.

Steve was finally with someone he could be himself around without feeling bad or awkward, even in this messed up world the both of you bounced off each other as though it were effortless. Although you were sometimes the biggest idiots, you were the biggest idiots in love.

#steve harrington #steveharrington/reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #steve harrington x reader #steveharringtonxreader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff

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shepscapades · 1 year ago

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OKay so we know he lost the arm sometime seemingly mid S8- then he loses it to etho again now in s9

As always Dinnerbone remains the most possible suspect (might have something to do with the deviency thing bc i dont think doc being like all of 2 years old has managed to commit as many crimes) but X doing a fuck up is possible. Also ig like half of my silly ideas. the only reason mumbo only hacks one arm is bc in the comic we only every see Docs pretend-flesh arm and cant see if the other one has or doesnt have its casing. also i really doubt that but i wanted to clarify. but also holy shit that would be funny.

My cat is laying on my feet so i have nothing better to do but Ponder. What are your secrets Docm. Also he loses his goat horns n other things when switching seasons so like that could mean something

Sorry for. sending so many. I am Invested.

Docs arm guy

I WILL say, only because it’s confusing and doesn’t have major plot relevance, the horn thing isn’t consistent for this reason (i was bad with drawing them consistently and had to come up with a reason for it to make sense). I do like the idea though that, when doc adds them back at some point in s9, he not only adds it as a permanent part of his player model, but he also makes them removable. For convenience!

#dbhc #dbhc doc #dbhc ask #docm77 #doc #ask #anon #docs arm guy #SRJBDFKGBDHN #art escapades #dbhc theories #dbhc sillies #dbhc art #I guess DFBJSFGB

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toysrguts · 1 year ago

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MORE jeff hc's!!!!!!

thank u for the love on the last one i love writing these sm ^___^

•can fit like 11 cigarettes in his wide ass mouth at once

•half asian (his mom is chinese)

•his hair is really thin because it never grew back properly after being burned

•hates being wrong more than anything else on the planet. sometimes he knows hes wrong but will NEVER admit it and fight to the death over it

•bpd representation 💯💯💯

•something in my brain tells me he cant die. kind of like a johnny the homicidal maniac situation. he never gets caught and he never dies (he can still get seriously injured but he will always come back when u least expect it)

•always has to be in control of the aux in every vehicle hes in and is so obnoxious when his favorite songs come on

•also yells "I SAW THIS LIVE" every time a band he saw live comes on

•barks at random unsuspecting people through the open passenger window

•always stealing shit off his victims after killing. he has a whole ring collection because of it, and of course he steals wallets for weed money

•also steals from slenderman but you didnt hear that from me

•"saying jeff is a douchebag is like saying the sky is blue." -toby

•kind of guy that takes out his bottled up emotions on everyone around him and then hates himself for it

•wears the same gross outfit all the time. just grabs one of the 3 pairs of crusty skinny jeans from off his floor and of course the musty ass dirty ass torn apart ass hoodie

•smile dog is truly his best friend. he feels like nobody understands him like smile does. he loves taking him for walks in the woods while smoking a cigarette and having deep conversations with him (not that he actually responds but jeff knows smile can understand what hes saying)

•horror movie enthusiast, from obscure fucked up ones to super cheesy ones. he has a whole shelf dedicated to his horror movie collection

•has an addictive personality, which is partially why he has a drug and alcohol abuse problem and struggles with self harm

•rarely goes out in public because hes known to have violent outbursts. he once committed mass murder at a burger king because people were looking at him weird and EJ had to drag him out of there before the cops showed up

•HATES the light he literally duct taped over his windows so the light couldn’t get in (he forgot blackout curtains exist)

•his room smells like pennies, skunk weed, and foot stank

•is actually an incredible artist but acts like hes not. literally everyone loves his work except for him

•secretly loves cartoons. he loves taking bong rips and watching scooby-doo to escape reality :)

•has never had a healthy relationship with anyone in his life, usually just sticks to hookups

•its a miracle this man is still alive considering he survives off gas station snacks and week old sodas that have been sitting on his nightstand

•speaking of he once drank an old dr pepper after he forgot he put out a cigarette in it

•got a tramp stamp when he was blackout wasted

•writes random thoughts and draws little doodles all over his bedroom walls; it kind of looks like a mental asylum in there

•also his bed is literally just a blood stained mattress on the floor with no sheet and a singular pillow and blanket

•so fucking broke he will do anything for a hundred bucks

•writes the most foul hate comments under every post he disagrees with

•he loves video games, his favorite being postal 2 (hes OBSESSED)

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clarissaweasley-10 · 4 months ago

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okay (rant)

TODAY WAS FUCKING SHIT. FIRST I GOT MY PERIOD AND MY STOMACH HAS BEEN HURTING ALL DAY (which owuld be okay IF IT WASNT FOR TWO LITTLE FUCKERS THAT RUINED MY DAY)

okay firstly, my english teacher. respectfully sir i hope you fall down the stairs and die in the most miserable way possible. SO WE HAD A GROUP PROJECT AND I GAVE THE REST TO MY GROUPMATES AND I TOOK ON ONE BIG TASK MYSELF (cuz it was arts and crafts) AND MY TWO GROUPMATES WEREN'T DONE BUT THEY DIDNT RLY NEED HELP AND THEY WERE NEARLY DONE ANYWAY SO I TOOK OUT MY SKETCHBOOK AND STARTED DRAWING AND THEN THIS MOTHERFUCKER COMES UP AND HE;S LIKE

"{real name}, Gem, stop painting in your notebook"

"But i'm done with my work" AND THEN THIS BITCH KEPT TELLING ME TO GO DO STH LIKE BRO I WAS DONE WITH MY PART OF THE GROUP WORK ITS PERFECT I GOT MY LINES AND MY FRIENDS DON'T NEED HELP AND HE KEPT TELLNG ME TO BASICALLY DO MY GROUPMATES WORK FOR THEM LIKE STFU.

if it wasn't bad enough I glared at him and was like "ths isnt fair. respecffulyl im done with my work. They don't need help finishing up theirs and besides i already did half the work. we already have an idea and everything." and this mf went up andstarted lecturing me on how life isnt fair sometimes

LIKE SIR YOU ARE A RICH WHITE BRITISH ADULT MAN. IF ANYTHING YOU DO NOT GET TO TELL ME HOW LIFE ISNT FUCKING FAIR BECAUSE AS A ASIAN PERSON OR COLOR OR WHATEVER YOU CALL IT WHO IS ALSO A TEENAGE GIRL WHO HAS PERIODS AND CRAMPS, I WOULD KNOW ABOUT UNFAIRNESS. HE, WOULD. FUCKING. NOT. KNOW. A .SHIT.ABOUT.UNFAIRNESS. so respetctrfulyl,shti up

(sry for the long rant im so mad rn)

no no its alr pls feel free to rant whenever you want... its alr girlie we all have our moments BUT I SERIOUSLY WANNA CHOKE THAT ENGLISH TEACHER OF YOURS RN. LIKE BITXH HE HAS SOME AUDACITY- one thing i rly hate abt teachers is how they can never keep their noses to themselves like pls leave me alone, why cant they fricking just mind their businness and let us mind ours? besides i am coming to vietnam with a gun to shoot of all the bad guys..

@isthataraccoon d'you think u have a gun that i can borrow for a while??

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zialltops · 1 year ago

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honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

masterlist | ao3 | spotify playlist

There's no way he knew Joel was just ogling his daughter’s pussy in the glow of the fridge light not five minutes ago, right? Right?

“Uh, I just thought I’d give it a try.” Joel mumbles, fiddling with the lid on his cup that opens and closes the mouth piece. “You sure you’re alright, son? French vanilla is a little out of character for you.” It’s such a lighthearted comment but it makes Joel's heartbeat ring in his ears. “Fine—I’m fine, just wanted to try somethin—new. I should get to work, ya’ll have a nice morning.”

a/n: that center pic of joel is him in the glow of a fridge light.

vi: If She Wants A Cowboy

He’s going absolutely crazy. Out of his mind bat shit—nuts. Last night felt like a fever dream—maybe it was all along and he drempt it all up. Maybe he passed out in the snow and you dragged him in. But his mind cant make up the way you smiled at him, the look in your eyes when you peered up at him and said it—those three words that led joel straight to his eleventh hour. This is it, almost too late to catch with the cold tips of his calloused fingers. He reached and reached until his grasp finally brushed along the edges of your relics, along soft skin and forgiveness, scraps of understanding in the bitter, oppressive cold. God, the way you looked up at him like you might not stop him if he kissed you right there, the way your eyes searched his when you said—

You know why

But he doesn’t know in the early morning hours when he jolts awake to the ceiling fan against the popcorn texture and the quiet creak of the old house. He’s a little disoriented from his spot on his back at first, wondering if last night had happened or if he’d dreamt the whole thing up. Had he? Because he can’t wrap his mind around the sudden shift in every aspect of his relationship with you.

Why had you looked at him like that, touched his hand so softly he almost crumbled at your feet? He was ready to beg and plead for your hands on him forever. Why did you lay a blanket over him with that same soft look he’d only seen a few times before? Why did you lean down and press your soft, delicate lips to his wind bitten cheek, let them linger and warm him all over, thawing him out from the inside after years in this frigid body? Why did you climb the stairs slowly and glance over your shoulder to make sure he was still there on the couch?

His socked feet sticking out of the too small blanket with his weary eyes and pounding heart.

It’s been at least a half hour since he opened his eyes on this couch, but he can’t bring himself to get up yet. This is his last link to where you’d left him and he wishes you’d come down those stairs and tell him—why, and why should he know when he thought you hated his guts for so long.

You know why

Why you didn’t have sex with his brother. Or why you spent the day beside him in a saddle and got to know him instead of analyzing every little move he makes. Why you looked at him with hope in your eyes, or why you laid in Tommy’s bed and couldn’t bring yourself to do it. The more he thinks about the occasion, the more he realizes the answer is the same either way. No matter the instance, why will always have the same answer.

Because you want him, the way he wants you. Maybe not as desperately as him, but it’s in there, it must be. Or maybe thats just his muddled brain making up thing that aren’t there, seeing things that didn’t happen, making something out of nothing. Theres a layer of his desire blanketing every interaction he has with you. He sees vibrant, beautiful colors where it used to be dull and gray, his mind recognizes your kindness before your actual presence, sees the sparkle in your eyes and your depths of color before he reads what they are trying to tell him. All of that combined, maybe you didn’t mean to draw him in, maybe you were just nice to him and he took that as interest.

“Morning,” soft words pull Joel from his thoughts and his mindless tracking over the textured paint above him. He picks his head up from the pillow with a low groan, something about his neck tells him he’s going to pay for sleeping here. He’d do it all over again a million times to see you at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in a big tee-shirt and nothing else, a sleepy little smile with your hair a mess around your head like a halo. He’s so gone on you, so blatantly smitten that the whole world can probably see it. He’ll never recover from the way he wants you, it will live with him everywhere he goes, like a open wound that will never close. He can’t even remember who he was before he laid eyes on you.

“Mornin’, darlin’.” Your face cracks in a smile you can’t hide, cheeks redden in the dark hallway. Joel wishes you’d climb onto the couch with him, curl up along his side so he could plant a soft kiss atop your head and drink you in. “I was just getting some water, I thought you’d already be up.” He sits himself up slowly, until his feet hang over the edge of the couch and his back gets a much needed stretch.

“Gettin’ a late start today. That alright with you, boss?” A statement that would usually hold so much more distaste, suddenly takes on a new tone—teasing with a dash of heat on Joels part, his eyes chasing after your bare thighs as you walk into the kitchen. If his eyes were a little better, he’d probably be able to see the soft curve of your ass just under the hem of the shirt, so dangerously close to exposing you.

Are you wearing panties this time, too? Or, are you naked? You stop and look at him over your shoulder with a sleepy smirk. “I’ll let it slide this time, but don’t make it a habit.” He catches your eyes and they singe together from across the dark house, like two fireflies dancing across the somber shadows, readying themselves to outrun a brewing storm. “Yes ma’am,” his lips quirk up into a smirk.

“Coffee?” You offer in a different tone than you’d been maintaining, this one is quiet and soft, genuine to the point that Joel cant imagine turning you down. “Absolutely,” he gets up and doesn’t slip into his boots when he follows after you to the kitchen. Barefooted beside you, he gets the full wrath of your height difference, so much smaller than him, captivating in the softest possible ways, with your hair a mess and yours eyes glossy from the hood over the stove. He finds a spot leant against the door frame while you move around the kitchen quietly, filling the water reservoir, then the filter and ground coffee from a can. You set the old pot to brew and open the fridge, light scatting across the old hard wood floors in-front of Joel, encircling yours frame like a halo to his unadjusted eyes.

“Cream?” You ask without looking back, leaning down every so slightly to reach for the half and half on the top shelf, hand hovering on the carton while you take stalk of what else there is. The only thing Joel can pay attention to his his view, your shirt riding up to the middle of your ass, exposing soft creases where your cheeks meet your thighs. You look so damn smooth, softer than any fabric his calloused hands have laid upon. His eyes tick to the fridge and he spots a bottle of french vanilla stuffed into the back of the fridge on the bottom shelf—he’d never dare ruin his coffee like that, but to watch you bend a little further, he’ll risk his taste buds.

“French vanilla, please.”

His heart is absolutely pounding at the thought of you turning your head around catching him openly ogling, but the opportunity is too good to pass up. You lean lower and the shirt drags the rest of the way up, Joel leans back a little to adjust his view and—christ…

You aren’t wearing any panties.

You aren’t wearing any panties and Joel can see just the faintest vision of your lips, peeking out between yours thighs, your cheeks spread as you lean towards the back of the fridge—you have to know what he’s seeing right now, how easily he could step forward, place one hand on your back to keep in you in place while he pressed two fingers knuckles deep just to listen to the way you’d gasp his name. He’s not going to last long in this house, knowing what’s under that night shirt.

“This one?” You ask when your hand finds the lid and he hums without taking his eyes away from your bare ass. “Yeah, s’perfect.” He murmurs, adjusting himself in his slept in jeans so he can somewhat hide the way his blood rushes south and away from his brain.

Fucking hell, he can nearly see it all—a little further and he’ll get a glimpse of that tight little hole—wishes he could take a mental screenshot for when he inevitably wraps his hand around himself to the thought of you, bent over in front of him in nothing but a tee-shirt.

His day dream is interrupted when you straighten up and walk back to the counter. He doesn’t move from his spot on the doorframe, trying to keep his pounding heart and ragged breaths to a minimum. You make his coffee in a thermos with a lid, filled all the way to the top with dark liquid and sweet smelling creamer, even if he hates the idea of ruining his joe.

“Better get out there soon, Cowboy…I think the suns coming up.” You offer the mug to him and he steps away from the door to take it gingerly, his fingertips brushing along the backs of your knuckles when your relent to release your grip. “Your hands are freezing.” You reach up with the other and place it over the top of his hand. They looks so damn small wrapped around the cup with his like this. “Keep yourself warm out there, will you?”

Your hands drop away and he wants desperately to beg you to put them back, to touch him with such concern every day, or he’s afraid he might turn to dust. “It’s damn cold out there, how do you suggest I do that, little lady?” He moves forward a step without realizing it, closing in on you until your head tilts back to look up at him. “Well…in that case, think of something that warms you up.” His right arm takes on a weight when your delicate fingers incircle his forearm, smoothing out the hard muscles there. In your eyes, Joel finds something he’s never seen before—hope. It propels him into honest bravery, the burning heat of your hand on him driving him forward. “Only thing that keeps me warm is standin’ in front of me, darlin’.”

His eyes tick down to your mouth, pretty pink lips just begging to be kissed, to be bit and sucked and nipped. He could, he could right now and you’d probably let him, he’s pretty damn sure and he’s not certain of a lot when it comes to you. His sight flicks up to your eyes again and they are gleaming at him in the low yellow light. Your other hand finds the left side of his chest, sprawling your fingers out across his peck.

“In that case, make sure you wear your gloves so you can keep these hands soft,” you lean up on your tip toes, tilting your head to the side of his until you nearly tuck your face into his neck, warm breath drenching his collar bone. He can feel a ghost of your mouth against his ear, your bottom lip dragging across the shell and covering him in goosebumps. “And think of me, cowboy.” Your words are like hot, sticky syrup, catching every inch of his skin and coating him in sweet warmth. His eyes close and he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding onto when your lips connect with the corner of his jaw briefly, before pulling away just far enough to plant a second just bellow his ear.

When you pull back from him, he has half a mind to press you against the counter top and finally know what you’d feel like on his lips. He has half a mind, but the other half registers a creaking coming across the floor boards. He has just enough time to step away from you quickly before the kitchen light comes on.

He should probably work on being more subtle, because he reels around like he’s been caught when he spots Hank in the doorway with tired eyes. “M-Mornin, Hank.” Joel gets out quickly, his ears barley picking up the stifled giggle you’re hiding under your hand. “Mornin’, what’s going on in here? Why’s it so dark, you two ever heard of a light?” He doesn’t sound accusing, but thats not what Joels ears tell his brain as he tries to make his way out of the kitchen. “N-Nothin, s’just gettin’ coffee, late start is all—“ he starts in but Hank puts a hand up to stop him. “Calm down son, just meant you should turn a light on. Can’t see a thing in here.” He chuckles, walking over to the pot to pour himself a cup. “Christ, who’s drinking this shit?” He picks up the bottle of french vanilla creamer and Joel’s cheeks go ghost white, trying his best not to wear it all on his face despite the utter fear in his wide eyes.

Theres no way he knew Joel was just ogling his daughter’s pussy in the glow of the fridge light not five minutes ago, right? Right?

“Uh, I just thought I’d give it a try.” Joel mumbles, fiddling with the lid on his cup that opens and closes the mouth piece. “You sure you’re alright, son? French vanilla is a little out of character for you.” It’s such a lighthearted comment but it makes Joels heart beat ring in his ears. “Fine—I’m fine, just wanted to try somethin—new. I should get to work, ya’ll have a nice morning.”

Hank gives him a absent wave and he makes it a point to not look at you because he knows what you’ll see written all over his face. He hightails it to the living-room and slips into his boots and jacket, slipping his hat onto his head once he’s fully dressed.

When he gets the front door open, thermos in hand, he hears his name from somewhere behind him. You’re standing at the bottom of the stairs, headed back up to your bedroom. “Yeah?” His voice cracks and he winces a little at his failed attempts at subtleties again. “I’ll see you at breakfast?”

Joel swallows and swears he was born to be tortured by you, angry or not, distant or stranding right in front of him, you put him through agony every day from the way he wants you.

“I’ll see you at breakfast, Honey.”

You grin and start up the stairs with one final glance over your shoulder. “Don’t forget to think of me, Cowboy,”

With a sultry wink, you’re gone and Joel is left panting, straining and confused.

How could he forget?

Joel definitely thinks of you when he runs to the cabin to change, only getting his jeans down his thighs before he’s working his hand over himself in a frenzy, plagued by the sight of you naked and soft, willing and encouraging. And when his gut tightens and his back arches off his creaky mattress—

He thinks of you.

After that, all hope of keeping him at a distance is out the window. The teasing had started out as just that—seeing how far you could push him before he told you to stop, to know the kinds of reactions you can cause him against his will. It becomes like a game, your outfit choices get a little tighter and you spend more time out on the ranch, in the stables when he’s working the horses, perched on the porch swing with a book when he’s got grease up to his elbows working on the old tractor.

You find that it’s hard to reach that point of pushing him too far and when you do, he gets this far away look in his eyes and stammers about something that requires his attention elsewhere. You play coy, even when you spot the thick outline of him through his blue jeans when scurries off to the nearest bathroom.

But you don’t make a move on him. Despite the shift in your relationship with him, he’s still so damn distant and vague, never letting you in on anything too personal that would lead you to believe he’d risk everything to be with you. What if it didn’t work? What if it fell through, would he still be able to walk around here with that kind of ache? You promised yourself that it would be his choice, he had to be the one to break that thinning ice. If he was willing to face the consequences, he would have to be the one to initiate the action.

Until then, you have other things to keep you busy—like the discrete package dropped off in the mailbox with your name on it. You track the package until the very day it arrives and your skin is nearly boiling off as the hours tick down until it’s in your hands.

You get the mail directly from the postal worker before it even hits the mailbox. With a quick thanks, you hurry back to the house and drop off your parents mail on the dining room table. Your mother was in town grocery shopping and Joel had dragged your dad out to the north pasture to look over a few young calfs who were suffering from some kind of upper respiratory illness.

The house was empty, aside from you and your heavy box and the slick slide of your thighs as you take the stairs two at a time to your bedroom. The second the door slams behind you, your already ripping open the box and pulling the toy from its discrete packaging.

Holy shit.

You sink onto the edge of your bed as you gaze at it in your small hands. You hadn’t given the color much thought when you’d purchased it, just clicked the right buttons that would get it to you as soon as possible. Sitting here in your quiet bedroom, the soft blue hues shine back at you like oceans of possibilities at your fingertips. You can’t imagine something of this size attached to a body, let alone Joel—it feels almost comical how large it looks.

When you’d caught a glimpse of Joel in the bathroom that day, it had been quick, momentarily providing a rough image of the sheer size, but sitting here in your palms it feels so much bigger. You turn it over a few times, fingers dragging along the false veins of the shaft, the thick, round head and the balls at the base, providing a sturdy bottom to rest on a flat surface if need be.

You’ve never owned anything quite like this, not even close. You’ve had a few vibrators, a few (much smaller) molds like this one, but never had you ventured out like this before. Setting it down on your lap, you realize just how unrealistic and fictional it looks, nearly taking up the entire length of your thighs. How will this ever fit inside of you?

How will Joel ever fit inside of you?

With your resolve diminishing, you dig through your bedside table for your toy cleaner and a bottle of lube you’d kept just incase. The whole process makes your thighs shake in anticipation, anxiously jittering through cleaning it and clearing off your bed, bringing up a music app on your TV to drown out any impending sounds you won’t be able to contain. Your heart starts to race when you get undressed, stripping yourself all the way down to nothing before securing the lock on your bedroom door.

Soft afternoon light coming through grey clouds makes the thick toy look cold and shadowy, looming against your stark white duvet.

It’s been nearly a year since you’ve had sex, so it’s tireless work even stretching yourself enough on your fingers to try just the tip. It feels like work, your shaking hands and disappointment in yourself, leading you into a string of bitter curses and irritation. It hurts and your thighs strain from holding yourself up and trying to lower yourself on it—no fucking way.

You flop back on your pillows with a loud, shameful groan. Why can’t you just—do this? Why can’t you just relax, let yourself enjoy this? It’s not supposed to be work, it’s supposed to make you feel good.

Realization hits you while staring up at the ceiling fan casting shadows on your walls. “Fuck,” you curse at yourself, draping an arm over your eyes while you try to catch up with your racing mind.

This is what Joel goes through every time he tries to have sex—fighting to make it fit, the frustration that must come with feeling like a novelty, fun but useless. He must feel every bit of humiliation you feel in this moment and then some, faced with women too scared to try, too impatient to work up to it, to cruel to give the same kind of effort Joel must have to give them just to get lucky a few times in his life.

So fucking cruel because you know—know Joel has to be a gracious lover. You see it in every thoughtful thing he does, the effort he puts into small things that equate to the effort he would put into you, worshiping your body with his reverent, greedy grasp. The same hands you’ve seen rope steer, tie up calves for branding. Hands you’ve seen holding reigns and synching saddles, the hands you’ve seen bring life into the world. The same hands you’ve seen wrapped around his cock in a dimly lit bathroom with mindless gasps, flexing biceps and a furrowed brow.

Oh—yeah, theres that hot rush across your skin, that tingle that starts in your thighs and travels up slowly, tickling your starved body. The things Joel would do to you, suddenly filling in the blank spaces behind your eyelids. It’s easy to slip into the fantasy of his big hands, ghosting ever so lightly along your bare thigh, a touch but not quite—like he’s there but he’s so far away, tickling the inside of your right thigh until chills work down your spine, flourishing into faint goosebumps down your legs.

The way he would talk to you, fuck, that would turn you into a murmuring mess for him, that deep rumbly accent of his. You could listen to him talk all damn day long, simple words suddenly transformed into the most eloquent, intoxicating sound that has ever graced your ears. He could probably talk you through an orgasm, blindfolded with minimal effort.

What would he say if he saw you right now?

Look at ya

If he saw you right now, laid out on your bed with a monumental task set before you.

So fuckin’ proud of you, sweet girl.

You feel brave with the phantom whispers of his praise in your ears, so you try a new angle, reminding yourself to breath slowly, relax and let yourself think of Joel.

Joel, who’s obviously ashamed of himself, who probably hasn’t been truly appreciated in years, if ever. Joel—you get past the wide head of the toy and it punches out a soft gasp that catches in your throat—sweet fucking Joel with his thoughtful eyes and graying curls. He’d probably want it like this too, you on your back with him above you, your legs spread wide to accommodate those solid hips instead of your own exploring hands.

I know, I know—you’re doin’ so good, darlin’, just a little bit more for me—thats it

It’s a little less intimidating when you don’t look at the toy in your hands, imagining flesh and pulsing want instead of cold blue silicone. It takes a lot of breaks, a lot of stilling and breathing deep while you force yourself to relax despite the absolutely agonizing stretch. When you get about half way, it hits you that this—this is what it’s going to feel like when he presses into you, the way he’ll burn when he splits you open.

Joel isn’t a boaster on any given day, but witnessing you arched off the mattress with a slacked jaw and quivering muscles, he might let that facade slip.

Shh, baby, I know. S’big, ain’t it? You gonna take it? You gonna be good for me, honey? You can do it, girl—let me ruin you for anyone else.

“Oh, god…” your chest heaves this time, the toy brushing against a spot inside of you no one has ever reached. Your stubbornness bleeds into your desire, determined to get your new favorite toy as deep as you can, your secret, concealable, personal Joel. You’re so damn close now, just a few more inches to go and you’re in the home stretch.

Shit, you’re so tight, think all of me s’gonna fit, baby?

Another inch down and your starting to work up a sweat, one hand holding the blue silicone by the base while the other hand works slow, steady circles through your folds. It helps you take the edge off, doing your best to forget about the way the toy inside of you burns you up, stretches you past what you thought your body was possible of.

Almost there baby, that’s it—thats my girl.

Feel ya squeezin’ me, darlin. You gonna cum? Just from this?

Come on, beautiful—cum for me.

It’s abruptly apparent just how obsessed you are with the eldest Miller when you can nearly picture him crystal clear above you, holding your thighs around his hips while he sinks in deeper, the determined set of his jaw and his wild eyes, consumed entirely by dark pupils that drink you in. He would be breathless right now, probably making soft sounds to the way your body tightens up completely when that final thread finally snaps.

He would be the soul witness to the way your body arches and shakes, the way it pulses around him, recoils then springs to life with a heavy gasp of his name on your parted lips.

That’s my girl, absolutely shakin’ for me, ain’t even fucked you yet.

The adrenaline high takes you soaring across your room, spinning out of control with light dancing behind your closed eyelids. When you come to, the vision slips and it’s no longer Joel you see above you, but your spinning ceiling fan and white popcorn texture.

Your toy is pressed in to the base, finally all of it, every inch of it’s cool blue silicone is wrapped in searing heat.

You’re one step closer to everything you’ve wanted for the last two years—Joel Miller.

The following morning, the breakfast table sits obliviously to the day before, the night before and the early hours of this morning—the ones where you laid out panting his name silently, shaking fingers grasping the blue silicone base.

Now, those same hands grasp a empty fork as you push food around absently. Your eyes are on the plate across from you, Joels big hands on his coffee mug when his sight catches yours. His eyes flick to your parents, then back to you with a knowing glint.

“S’that right, Honey?” You snap out of your daze and glance up at your mother. “Huh?” She offers a oblivious smile. “I was saying how many boys ‘round here are beggin’ at your feet to be their dates for the spring formal.” She smiles over at Joel. “You haven’t been the last two years, but the town puts on this big dance at town hall. Everyone comes dressed to the nines.” Joel tries to imagine you, dressed in a elegant gown, brainless fools groveling at your feet for a chance with a girl like you—he imagines himself, one of those worthless fools right beside them.

“Think it’s comin’ up soon, ain’t it?” Hank asks over a bite of pancake and you look over at your father. “Next week, it falls on my birthday this year. You guys are still okay with Mel coming down for a few days, right?”

Your parents agree easily and the conversation shifts to a new topic, but Joel’s eyes pierce into you through the entire meal.

Plotting, planning and imagination the same things that are running through your equally muddled mind.

Both oblivious to how absolutely fucked you’ll both be come next week.

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