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redhoodinternaldialectical · 11 months

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Introducing my jaytim fanfiction series Chained!

This is the largest writing project I have ever attempted! Currently (March 29th, 2024) it sits at a length of 153,000 words published and some back of the napkin math puts the final product in the ballpark of War and Peace’s 500,000+ words. halp lmao! This post is designed to serve as an introduction to what the story is about, what my Tim and Jason are gonna be like, and what parts of canon I’m sticking to

"So, what’s the premise ya dorkus malorkus?”

Jason is set in front of a contract that will grant near omnipotence over every facet of reality. The catch is that it requires the person who actually gains the power to be permanently bound into the service of someone else. Afraid of what this could do in the wrong hands, Jason asks Tim to be his new Master.

(a picture of Jason with the halo and armor the contract grants him that I drew :3 also, have a link to the fics!)

After many hours of intense negotiations (the entire first fic in the series), they produce a subcontract designed to maintain Jason's basic rights as a person while still granting them enough power to overcome whatever whatever caused the contract to be written in the first place. Now all that's left is to destroy the evidence, win the fight, and start remaking the world in their image...

Expect to read about: extensive theological discussions complete with readings of the Bhagavad Gita, shape shifting, hijinks, Harley Quinn being a menace to society really good therapist, redonkulous amounts of time travel and time loops, murders most foul, webs of lies and deceit as Oracle works to uncover their secrets, angst, fluff, hurt, comfort, and I’m gonna stop there before I overpromise myself, turn into a puddle, and never manage to finish the damn thing, lol

The draw of the premise for me is exploring the constant renegotiation of boundaries between Jason and Tim as they navigate a truly terrible idea of a romance. This is slow burn in that it takes them a really long time to get together properly due to the aforementioned terrible idea part, but they know they’re in love very early on.

“Lay out the dynamics there hoss”

I reserve the right to fuss with these, but my intention is:

Jason/Tim = the genius fragile human made of pure spite and determination and their sentient bodyguard/servant monster who they like lowkey have a thing with. Think Integra Hellsing and Alucard.

Barbara Gorden versus Tim Drake = genius versus genius 5D chess headgames war. Think L and Light with Jason as Ryuuk. But like if Light was into Ryuuk.

Tim/Jason versus [MAIN VILLAIN SPOILERS] = warring Gods. The source of a new mythology.

Honestly, just mark down Hellsing Ultimate and Death Note animes as major influences.

“What’s a folk gotta do ta get some headcanons and characterization in this joint?”

For Tim I’m going mainly with him in his Red Robin run where he finds Bruce, blows up the League of assassins and shit like that. I love how absolutely arrogant this man is, and I find the way he struggles with the ethics of the job really neat. This version of Tim seems perfect to act as the commander: always tempted to do more, tempted to go further into the dark with power, but also having a lot of self control and dedication to doing right.

In terms of personal headcannons I am making him trans (cause I can), ADHD/Autistic (because it makes sense), and a dabbler in mild, lowkey amphetamine abuse (The coffee chugger who never sleeps of fanon intrigues me, but also caffeine kinda doesn’t do that, whereas adderall definitely does. He’ll use both stimulants as available and needed. I like a man who knows he badly overworks himself but who can’t realistically say he shouldn’t be overworking himself.)

Jason is a much harder cat to herd because writers have long been playing tug of war with his characterization, dragging him over the line to unhinged villain then back to just another bat over and over. I always like Jason, but I think he’s at his weakest at both extremes of the spectrum. He’s a good villain/antagonist in general, but a phenomenal one when he has real goals and morals. He’s a good anti-hero/tenuous ally in general, but a phenomenal one when he and the family have serious disagreements and Jason is still a killer.

I’m keeping this fic as canon compliant as possible, but there is a bare minimum amount of rearrangement necessary to make Jason consistently morally grey rather than an ethical checkers board that looks grey when you turn it sideways and squint.

Headcanons for Jason include chronic pain (I just think being blown up should screw with a guy’s nerves), trans (cause I can), and having schizophrenia (cause I see some possible canon evidence and he’s had a LOT of ableist stuff thrown his way and I don’t really like ‘well I’m not actually mentally ill’ as a resolution point to that. I am leaving it ambiguous if this has anything to do with the Lazarus Pit, but I intend it to be very unambiguous that it has nothing to do with why he has beef with the rest of the bats. His grievances are not delusions. His moral positions are not delusions. He will hallucinate and I may have him develop delusions, but he’ll also take medication for that and employ coping mechanisms like real life people with schizophrenia do. The mental illnesses are something he deals with, not something that controls him into being evil, no matter their source.)

Oh and it should go without saying that everyone has so much PTSD!

“Cut ta the chase already jabrony, give us da timeline”

Crisis on Infinite Earths, Final Crisis, Infinite Crisis, Flashpoint, Convergence, and the Rebirth changes happened in this fic's canon. We are dealing with multiple multiverses. If you’re familiar with the concept of ‘Hypertime’ used to facilitate the Elseworlds series and elaborated on during the Dark Knights: Metal stuff, I’m building off of that. If you’re not, don’t worry about it, there will be a far better explanation in the fic as the characters discover this shit for themselves.

This takes place during the "Rebirth" era of DC comics canon in a fanfic universe I made up within that canon multiverse called Earth 69. Earth 69 is my idea of what the pre-flashpoint timeline might have looked like if flashpoint never happened. Essentially I'm taking the post crisis stuff and extending it by acting as though that timeline just kept going, with plot points from New 52 and Rebirth canon welded onto the end of it. Keep in mind though, Earth 69 only coincidentally mirrors pre-flashpoint events; that canonical pre-flashpoint multiverse still exists!

Now lets go through just Earth 69′s timeline, focusing on Tim and Jason

Based on the letter Jason sends to Kid Devil, I put the year of his death as 1985. Ten years have passed since then at the start of this fic, making Tim 23 and Jason 25. The influence of alien tech and supergeniouses accelerated cultural and scientific growth such that while the fic takes place in 1995, every bit of tech and culture from 1980 to 2024 is fair game to show up. I find it fun to play around with laser turret drones and microfiche spy tactics all in the same story, so our heroes listened to My Chemical Romance on their smartphones while watching the fall of the Berlin Wall on live TV.

Batman (1940) issues #419 - #429 aka Jason’s post-crisis Robin years happen almost identically to the comics, except that Jason is a trans man and it was the Penguin that got Willis Todd locked up for life and then killed instead of Two Face. Bruce eventually finds out he’s trans and is supportive if understandably clueless. He raises Jason as his son. It’s important to me that Jason’s beef with Batman not leave either side objectively correct. Their relationship and hurts are a lot more compelling to me if Bruce isn’t transphobic.

A Place of Lonely Dying and the Robin (1993) series happen with very few deviations, with the understanding that I've read less of this than would be ideal and might get some things mixed up as I go along. Those deviations include Tim also being a trans man. Because he was looking into transition care for Jason, Bruce already knows about puberty blockers and HRT and supplies them to him. That becomes a big part of why Tim’s Dad is so freaked out by Tim being Robin. In this timeline, one of the major reasons Tim is so attached to the role of Robin is that it’s the first role in his life where he gets to be himself.

Lost Days happens as it did in comics except for two changes. Firstly when Talia sleeps with him, it's not sex, it's fully clothed cuddling and actual sleeping. I think this compromise preserves the important emotional conflict that I identified in this reading of her motivations, while sidestepping some of the problems the sex caused. The second change is that Jason won't have ended Lost Days by going to talk to Hush...

Because I HATE Thomas Elliot as a character. I hate how he was implemented. I hate that he kept showing up. I hate that they killed off Harold. I hate Hush. So it never happened on Earth 69! Instead I'll be emphasizing Tim and Jason's later fights, which have some similar emotional beats.

Now, whether or not Jason held a knife to Tim’s throat is kinda fucking important to how their relationship is interpreted! Most people, understandably, make this a serious event between the two. However, in all the comics I’ve been reading, I have seen zero characters ever acknowledge that Jason was involved. Tim hasn’t thought or said anything about it, even when it really seemed relevant. Jason technically tells Batman he did it in UtRH, but it's never brought up again and at this point it feels almost like Judd Winick tricked DC into publishing a headcanon that applies nowhere else lmao. Therefore I feel fine with just ditching this and putting more emphasis on their later fights which have similar emotional beats.

Under the Red Hood happens, with one modification. He knows about Stephanie's death and treats it with the gravity she deserves. He is targeting Black Mask because of Steph's death, and something very similar to the excellent fanfic 'hangman is coming down from the gallows' by nex_et_nox happens.

Young Justice (1998) happens, except for some of the mythological encounters. They did watch Santa get blown up, but I will be taking liberties with how the Greek Pantheon operates, and holy fucking shit, no they did not meet the goddess Kali like that, what the fuck, did no one even try to do a basic level of cultural sensitivity research?!? Anyways.

Jason does fight Batman, Green Arrow, and Mia as told in Green Arrow (2001) #69 - #72. Roy does hear about this, but he hears about it the way that Mia herself tells it when asked about it in the comic, i.e. “He didn’t hurt me. We just talked.” So he's not exactly all that freaked out about it.

Roy Harper and Jason first meet in Outsiders (2003) #44 - #46 where he helps Roy and Dick exonerate Black Lightning with no ulterior motives, as in the comics.

Teen Titans (2003) #29 (The Titans Tower fight) happens as it did in comics. i.e. It was a fair one on one fight in which both participants understood that the other was not trying to kill them and both combatants walked away with nothing more than superficial injuries. Tim came away from that with a black eye and a grudge; Jason came away from it thinking Tim was pretty alright in his book. The writing on the wall was either Jason’s own blood, or red paint, because there is simply no earthly way that was Tim’s blood.

Teen Titans (2003) in general happens to Tim, though there’s a lot that connects to Countdown to Final Crisis (which can only have happened in the canonical pre-flashpoint multiverse) that may or may not need to be edited and removed.

The combination of events from Countdown to Final Crisis and Teen Titans (2003) #47 also happens, in which Jason attempts to save Duela Dent from murder, fails, connects with Donna at her funeral, and then is interrogated by Tim and Dick who suspect Jason murdered her. Oh and also it's where Tim kicks him in the pants lol. Obviously the reason Duela died and who murdered her has to be different, but all that should be details that don't matter for the fic's purposes.

I've already mentioned that Robin (1993) was being considered canon to Earth 69′s timeline, but make special note here of issue #177, in which Tim sends Jason to jail (his first prison stint, yay :D). One modification here: Jason's plan is to manipulate the established mob families into fighting the cops, leaving the local communities to govern themselves, not to use "kid gangs" to soften up the cops and the mob like happens in the comic. Because like... the on panel plan makes no sense, either logistically or for his character, and idk why but the way the author uses the concept of “kid gangs” leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

Nightwing (1996) #118 - #122 aka Brothers in Blood aka the one where Jason becomes a tentacle vore monster happens exactly as depicted in comics. Exactly. As. Depicted. Well okay not exactly, I need him to not have threatened to bomb a building full of innocent people, that is a bridge too far, but everything else stays!

The Red Robin series happens as depicted, except for how Tim got the costume. The Red Robin costume that Tim wears in the pre-flashpoint multiverse was from that multiverse’s Earth 51. On Earth 69 the Red Robin costume was what Bruce made for Jason in anticipation of him wanting to outgrow the Robin mantel one day, like Nightwing did (tho uhhh great job reframing why the Nightwing mantel exists there Bruce lmao). When Dick gave the Robin role to Damian, Tim took the Red Robin outfit for himself from it’s pedestal next to The Memorial Case. There was a considerable amount of spite towards multiple people involved in that decision.

Battle for the Cowl is where it gets trickier. I am going to gut most of the plot of BftC and combine a few plot elements from it with the Batman and Robin (2009) series in order to create a much longer lasting conflict that preserves Jason as an anti-hero and his partnership with Scarlet/Sasha as a competing vigilante force to Dick and Damian.

After Bruce’s “death” Dick super does not ever want to be Batman. No one does really. Jason hears Bruce's post-death message and is understandably fucking devastated. He decides to say fuck that noise, Bruce is gone now, and I'm gonna be Batman since no one else seems willing to do it, and I'm gonna do it my way! Another Batman running around shooting people dead forces Dick’s hand and he takes up the Batman mantel to fight him. Batman and Robin (2009) #3 - #6 happen roughly as depicted, but with Jason still claiming to be Batman, and he doesn’t have red hair. (I’m so sorry white suit + pill helmet costume, but I must leave you behind for the sake of continuity). Jason's stint in Arkham and then Blackgate happens. Batman and Robin (2009) #23 - #25 happen as depicted, minus the part where Jason rigged the entire fucking civilian tram line to explode. After Jason and Scarlet fly off into the sunset together, they come back to Gotham and keep fighting.

Sometime after he's free again he does Roy a favor. I haven't decided what exactly, but it's big. I’ve toyed with the idea that he broke him out of prison because he doesn’t want to see Liam grow up without a dad in a move very similar to the Outsiders thing and roughly analogous to how he meets Roy in Red Hood and the Outlaws (2011), but that seems a lil repetitive and why would Roy even be in jail, so idk.

By this point the events of Red Robin are over and Tim has joined Dick and Damian in fighting Jason. Sometime before the climactic battle, Scarlet leaves for [FANFIC SPOILERS] reasons, so it becomes just Jason again. He goes through with something like the plan from Battle for the Cowl, luring Tim to his Batcave and offering him a place as his Robin. As in comics, Tim's answer is to pick up a crowbar and wack Jason across the face with it! Jason wins the fight and stabs Tim in the chest, knowing it's not gonna kill him, but fine with it leaving one hell of a scar! Dick's fight with Jason afterwards, and Jason jumping from the train into the harbor, happens as it did in BftC #3 with the exception of Dick wearing the Batsuit instead of Tim.

Starfire contacts Roy for help with a lengthy, off planet mission - one that absolutely needs a Bat on board. Every single Bat is up to their eyeballs in fires to put out and projects to run... except for Jason. Roy knows a lot of other Heroes with very good reasons to hate him, but in his personal experience, Jason’s always been a reliable if shady and asshole-ish guy working for the greater good. Ya’know. A Bat. It helps that they both think Bruce treats Dick like garbage sometimes and thus are inclined to be sympathetic towards Jason's beef with him. Roy vouches for him and brings him on board. They work well together, they save the days in outer space, and after a particularly dangerous mission they have a "thank fuck we're not dead" threesome together. This replaces the New 52 version of Red Hood and the Outlaws.

During the trip back to Earth, Jason confides in them about his woes and they encourage him to sort his shit out and get his life back together. Jason agrees and after considering it for a while he asks Roy and Starfire to help negotiate a truce between him and the rest of the Bats. They agree and thus begins two years of ceasefire and getting more friendly with the other Bats.

During those two years, the events of Dark Knights: Metal occur. The Source Wall is broken, and all the peoples of all the earths are plunged into a nightmare world. No one really remembers what happened, it’s all very vague and drifty, like remembering a dream, unsurprisingly. People have been referring to this event as The Nightmares.

This two year period also contains my version of Rebirth Red Hood and the Outlaws. Jason attempts to infiltrate Black Mask’s gang because the real Black Mask should be super dead and super unwilling to work with him. He’s a LOT more competent about it than in comics tho.

The biggest change is what goes down with Cobblepot. Jason’s original intention was to fake the penguin’s death and take all his power and assets from him, as he did in comics. However, he loses Artemis and Bizzaro before he goes through with that plan instead of after. At the last minute he switches the blanks out for lead. The Penguin is super dead.

He fights back when Bruce confronts him, but it's still a brutal fight and ultimately Roy has to separate them. Then Jason follows his father’s trail to the experimentation prison thing like in comics. Roy doesn’t die along the way, we don’t have the scene with Bruce at the diner, but in the end it turns out that his father is actually dead. No one survived that place. He only found boxes of dusty, decaying files, a grave out back, and Dr. Fate. Once he was convinced there was nothing more to find, Dr. Fate took him to John Constantine and The Contract, and that’s just about where our story begins!

Have another link, and I hope some of y’all enjoy what I’ve got so far!

#Damian's Tomfoolery #fanfic #jason todd #tim drake #jaytim #jason todd/tim drake

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buckysgrace · 7 months

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Eighteen

They leave early in the morning again, before the sun is even up. Kim is more quiet this time around and Billy is fairly thankful for it. He struggled to sleep last night, feeling like there was a ghost lingering in the room. Even with his arms wrapped around Kim’s waist, he couldn’t keep the conversation that he had with Sam out of his mind. He also didn’t understand why he felt so empty, why he still felt like he needed to be hit.

He feared that if he closed his eyes he would dream of the scenario that Sam had mentioned, but this time Neil would be holding his head underneath the water. Neil had never done anything that cruel, but Billy wondered if he would’ve. He kept thinking about what would’ve happened if he hadn’t fought Neil back.

He keeps wiping at his dry eyes and even pours himself a cup of coffee before they leave. Kim still watches him with a sense of softness, of worrisome curiosity as they head out into the day. Billy still feels tired, but he blames it on how much they drove yesterday rather than the lack of sleep. He doesn’t want to talk about his fears.

“Are you alright?” Kim finally asks, breaking the silence that had lingered in the air. She hadn’t said much, but had been overly touchy from last night. He really didn’t mind, actually enjoyed the way it felt on most days. He just felt like he was too stimulated, like too many things were happening for him to process. He was ready to be in San Diego in hopes that his mind would just stop.

“Yeah,” He brushes her off again, “Why wouldn’t I be?” She pauses for a long time, looking like she’s pondering as she’s searching for the right words to say. She plays with her fingers as the car slowly descends into silence.

“If you’re not okay, you can tell me.” She spoke up softly, her hazel eyes full of care as she peered at him gently. He breathed in hard as he turned away from her, a part of him feeling like he was weak if he let her know that there was something wrong. He reminded himself that there was nothing wrong. Sam had just taken him by surprise last night.

“I’m fine,” Billy glances at her, “I just tensed up a little bit. There’s nothing to worry about.” He reassured her softly. He had been pondering for the longest time, wondering how he would bring up the information he learned about Sam. He felt bad keeping it from her because he knew he’d want to know if his dad had gone through the same thing.

“Okay,” She nodded her head after a moment although he felt like she wanted to ask him more. He slid his hand across the middle console until he found her thigh and gave her a light squeeze, “Just wanted to check in on you.” She mumbled kindly as she brought his fingertips up to her mouth. She kissed each one softly, sweetly before she flicked her tongue out against them. He felt his eyes widen a bit as her spit slid down his fingers and his body warmed as she slowly slid his middle finger into her mouth.

“Kim,” He groaned as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. He spared a glance at her, feeling his cock stirring in his jeans at the way she hollowed her cheeks around his middle finger, “You’re gonna make me crash.” He laughed softly, although all he really wanted to do was tangle up with her in the backseat.

“But you’re such a good driver,” She teased softly as she pulled his finger away from her mouth. He looked at how red and wet her pouty lips appeared and he found it harder and harder to think of anything else other than her lips wrapped around his cock, “We’ve done it before.” She added softly, blinking her doe eyes towards him as she slyly moved his hand down the curve of her neck.

He felt a groan forming in his chest as his fingertips brush against her hardened nipples underneath her shirt. He breathes in roughly, unsure of how to handle knowing that she’s not wearing a bra underneath her thin shirt.

“Alright,” He seethes between his teeth as he moves his hand away and roughly tugs the zipper of his jeans down just enough so he can free his hard cock. His tip is already red, precum leaking from his slit as she hastily moves forward to wrap her cool fingertips around him, “Little cock slut.” He tsked, watching the way her eyes lit up from his words.

She slowly moved her hands up and down his throbbing cock and squeezed her hand a little tighter when she got close to his head. He licked his lips in anticipation, watching the way she curved her slim body over the middle console. Her short hair tickled against his thighs, not staying in place as he tucked it behind her ear a few times.

She kitten licked at his cock, apparently feeling the need to tease him as she slowly licked his precum away from his length. He sighed harshly, fighting the urge to close his eyes as he stared at the road in front of them instead. He shifted in his seat a bit, and pressed down on the gas a little harder to create a safe distance between him and the car next to them.

Her mouth was warm and wet as she finally slid his fat tip inside of her mouth, swirling her tongue around his crevices before sliding the top part of his cock inside of her mouth. She moaned around him, sending vibrations up his spine as he hissed in pleasure. His hips jerked up involutionary from the sensation, making her gag as he hit the back of her throat.

“Fuck,” He cursed underneath his breath, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he did his best to concentrate on the road, “You’ve got such a slutty little mouth.” He teased her as he moved one hand down to roughly pull her short strands from her face. He looked for a moment, memorizing the way her face reddened and her eyes widened.

Her tongue moved across his girth, licking away her drool as she bobbed her head up and down the length of his cock. He felt his fingertips tightening into the strands of her hair as he did his best to hold it out of her face, desperately wishing he could fully admire the way his cock slid down her throat.

He cock felt heavy against her mouth as she gripped his balls, squeezing them in her hands as she hollowed her cheeks and swallowed around his girth. He groaned a little louder, fighting to keep his own hips still as she took him further in her mouth. He felt himself throbbing a little harder, his stomach muscles clenching as his orgasm approached.

“Fuck, fuck,” He spit out harshly, tugging on her hair so that she was swallowing more of his cock in her mouth. She whimpered underneath him as fresh coats of drool trinkled from her lips. He sighed heavily, holding her head still as he came with a loud grunt, “Fuck, Red. You’re such a good girl.” He breathed out harshly, his own body feeling hot as he continued to tug at her pretty red hair.

She pulled away with a gag, still holding onto the base of his cock as she furrowed her eyebrows while swallowing his spunk. She breathed in harshly for a moment, drool still connecting from his tip to her lips as she looked up at him. She breathed in harshly, clearly trying to catch her breath as her cheeks burned.

“S’alright?” She asked, her hazel eyes softening as she looked at him for reassurance. He found himself grinning, his wet cock sliding uncomfortably against his jeans as he nodded his head, “Good.” She grinned shyly in response, a proud look filling her eyes before she was shoving his cock back inside of his pants. She tucks him into his wrong side, but he says nothing to protest. He figures he can just adjust himself later.

“You’re a cock slut,” He tells her in a matter of fact way, grinning at the way she bashfully adjusts herself back into her seat. He stares at the way her pale thighs dance off of the sunlight. He looks back towards the road, “Is your pussy wet?”

“I don’t know,” She responds shyly, hiding back into that shell of hers as she crosses her arms over her chest. He smirks to himself as he grips her thigh, squeezing it softly in his large hand. He moved his hand upwards slowly before he pressed her thighs apart quickly until he was reaching far enough between her legs to rub at her clothed cunt. He pulled her skirt up higher, having an urge to see what cute panties she was wearing today. White, with a cute little red bow.

“You are,” He draws out teasingly as he brushes his fingertips against her clit in a slow circle, “Does it turn you on to suck my cock?” He asked her softly, clearly knowing the answer as her slick dripped against his fingertips.

“Uh huh,” She breathed in deeply as she spread her legs a little wider, lifting them so she was angled his way, “Feels so good, Billy.” Her moans filled the car, rising higher than the music playing on the radio as he dipped his fingers down to her wet hole. He inhaled deeply as he slid his fingers inside of her cunt, enjoying the way she squeezed around his digits.

Kim gaped, her hips slowly rolling forward as he curled his fingers inside her wet cunt. He sighed softly, enjoying the way her cunt seemingly clamped down around his fingertips. He found it hard to keep his eyes on the road, sure that her pretty features were curled up into pleasure as he began to grind his fingers inside of her.

“Such a good whore,” He breathed out, feeling his cock beginning to stir again as he pumped his fingers deep inside of her, “You sound so pretty.” He told her honestly, his heart stirring roughly inside of his chest at the symphonies that were leaving her lips.

When he looks at her against her cheeks are in flames while she’s desperately grinding her hips up against his curled fingers. He groans as he looks back towards the road, thinking that image is going to stick with him for a long time as he presses his fingers up harder, searching for the spot inside of her that will send her over the edge.

“Right there,” She moans deeply as his thumb brushes against her clit while he pumps his fingers inside of her. He groans, his cock feeling semi hard again as he begins to play with her clit as he fingers her. Her body jerks forward, thighs shaking in a tell tale sign that he’s brushed against her g-spot, “God, God, yes.” She cries out, moving her hips forward a little harder.

He groans to himself, wishing that his cock was buried inside of her wet cunt instead of his fingers. He licks at the corner of his mouth, begging his focus to stay on the road instead of staring at the way she slowly comes undone around his fingers. She mewls loudly, jerking her hips forward a few more times before she goes slump in her seat.

“Dirty slut,” He grins as he looks towards her. He slowly pulls his fingers away from her cunt, grinning at the way she drips around his fingers. He makes sure the road ahead of them is safe and clear before he turns to her and slides his wet fingers into his mouth, “Tastes good.” He mumbles as he pulls them away, smirking at the way her features flush even darker.

“Do you think,” She draws in a quick breath, her cheeks still flushed as she pulls her skirt back over her milky thighs, “Do you think that anyone ever sees us?” She gulps, looking embarrassed like she hadn’t thought of it before. He grins as he turns towards her, fairly certain that a car or two had stalled at the look of her hips high in the air and her lips wrapped around his cock.

“No,” He lies, still grinning as he shakes his head, “I bet not at all.” She groans as she hides her face, like she’s trying to hide herself away as his laughter fills the car. He breathes in deeply, feeling like he’s finally relaxing again.

////////////////////

“Chicken Mcnuggets,” Kim speaks up quickly, “Oh and fries. And a Coke.” She answers a second later. Billy looks at her curiously, surprised that she’s not going for something sweet. He turns towards her.

“You don’t want a cookie?” Billy teases her, watching the way her eyes light up as if she hadn’t thought about it. She links their fingers together again as she sways back and forth in her spot.

“A cookie sounds nice,” She smiles bashfully towards him as she moves her fingers away and links her slender arms around one of his, “What are you getting?” She questions him as she rests her cheek against his shoulder. She’s being extra touchy today and he wonders if it has to do with last night. He rests his cheek against the top of her head, soaking in the feeling of her skin on his.

“Might as well get her a kids meal,” Max mumbles underneath her breath, “She’s not gonna eat all of that.” Max sends Kim a sly smirk. Billy chuckles, feeling it rumble inside of his chest. Max is probably right, but Kim has a determined look on her features.

“She can eat it later,” Sam reminds Max gently as he ruffles his hand through her messy hair. Her hair was slowly growing out into equal strands, just a little shorter than Kim’s. Max hadn’t asked Billy to cut it again and he hadn’t suggested it either, “Just get whatever, I’ll pay.” He offers and Billy suddenly feels like he could eat a whole bag of burgers to himself.

Kim leans against him, sighing softly as she continues to rest her chin against his shoulder. He continues to linger against her, soaking in her sweet smell as his heart pitters roughly inside of his chest. He doesn’t understand how he’s gotten so lucky.

Lunch passes by just as quickly and before he knows it they’re on the road again. Kim does indeed spend part of her time munching on her leftover food, but he also begins to ramble the closer they get. He can tell that she’s growing nervous, probably fearful of meeting new people.

“They’re going to love you,” He tells her honestly, “Don’t think too much about it.” He tried to reassure her. He still didn’t understand why she had such a hard time making friends. Sure, she was awkward and dorky but she was also clearly pretty and kind. He didn’t understand why people would want to give her such a hard time.

“I just-,” She breathes in softly, “I don’t know. It’s all so complicated I guess.” He wonders if she’s referencing Jason and worries that things were worse than him putting gum inside of her hair. Deep down he knows that it is, but he hopes that she’ll be the one to confirm his worries.

“What’s complicated?” He asks softly instead, hoping to have some insight to what she’s feeling. In his opinion, Hawkins wasn’t nearly as bad as San Diego. Sure, they had their pious and proud kids and everyone knew everything about each other. He thought San Diego was worse simply because you had to act a certain way, otherwise you wouldn’t fit in. There were probably three times as many people that could give her a hard time.

“I don’t want to upset my dad,” She starts with, “But I don’t know if I can live in someone else’s house. I don’t know her.” She explains slowly, looking like she doesn’t know if she’s fully making sense. He understands her though. He can see the discomfort written on her features. He paused for a moment before speaking, momentarily reminded of how she used to ask permission to do everything when she first moved in with him and Neil.

“We didn’t know each other either,” He reminds her gently as he reaches a hand over to grip her knee, “Look how well that turned out.” He teased her softly, giving her knee a soft squeeze as a dopey grin formed on her lips.

“Oh gosh,” Kim giggled softly, as she tucked her hair behind her ears. A soft blush spread over her features, “I guess it did work out for us.” She looked shy suddenly as she darted her eyes over towards him and then back to the floor. He grinned, not wanting to lose her under a blanket of being shy.

“Mhm,” He squeezed her knee again, earning another giggle from her, “And if it doesn’t, I guess we get our own place.” He reminded her as he moved his hand away from her skin. He felt bad because he was really hoping that things wouldn’t work out now that she had told him that. He felt odd, misplaced at the thought of living with Sam and his wife.

“Do you think Max will be upset?” She asked softly. He turned towards her again, noticing the guilt that was written across her features. He shook his head.

“Don’t worry about that,” He tells her quickly, “Just, try and think about yourself for once.” He told her softly, thinking that she deserved that much. Sam hadn’t even asked her about moving, not once. He’d only asked Max because he knew that Kim would follow her.

“I couldn’t leave Max behind.” She confirmed his thoughts as she spoke up. He took her hand in his, wincing at how cold her fingertips felt against his warm skin. He wished she’d stop thinking that she was abandoning Max.

“You wouldn’t be,” He tells her slowly, “You’d still be around her. Seriously, don’t overthink it.” He tried to reason with her, but was unsure if it really clicked in her mind. She nodded her head slowly as she rubbed her fingertips across her skin.

“Billy,” She turned to him slowly, “You said I was the prettiest girl in Hawkins. Does that change now?” She asked, looking a little fearful over what his answer would be. He nearly keeled over with how vulnerable and worried she looked suddenly.

“I said you were the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” He corrects her with a soft smile, “Doesn’t matter where we go, you’re still the prettiest.” He patted her thigh softly, enjoying the way her skin warmed underneath his. She smiled as she looked down onto her lap and slowly laced their fingertips together.

It was quiet in the car for a while, the only sound was the radio flicking through the different songs. Billy was fairly certain that by now he’d heard every song that had ever been created. He felt like this trip had taken twice as long as the one to Hawkins.

“You’ve asked me what my favorite sex thing is,” She says slowly, her cheeks burning as if it’s still something scandalous, “But what’s yours?” She asks hesitantly as she turns to watch him. He feels his eyebrows raising on his forehead, knowing that he’s already answered this question before.

“I told you,” He glanced towards her, “I like doing everything with you.” He said with a half-smile, hoping that she’ll believe him. He didn’t care what they did, just as long as he had a little piece of her. That was gratifying enough.

“No,” She groaned softly as she rested her chin on his fingertips, “I’m being serious. Give me something that you really like.” She urged him softly. He looked at her again, noticing the way she was flickering her eyelashes towards him. He breathed in deeply before he nodded, figuring she deserved an answer.

“Cumming inside of your cunt,” He grins, watching the way the crude words affect her, “I like knowing that you’re full of me while walking around.” He smirked and for good measure cupped her clothed pussy in his palm. She gaped, her eyes widening from his actions. A breathy moan leaves her lips before he’s pulling away.

She’s speechless for a moment as she tries to clearly sort out her thoughts, one hand coming up to wipe at her reddened cheeks. She looks flustered, like she forgot how to use her words as she fumbles with her fingertips.

“Have you ever done that with someone else?” She asks softly, giggling as she picks at her nails. He chews on his bottom lip, knowing that the way he did it with her was completely different. He was always safe during sex, except when it came to her.

“Just once,” He glances at her, watching the curiosity that grew on her features, “Sally. That’s it and it wasn’t nearly as fun as what it is with you.” He teased her softly, hoping that she wouldn’t grow jealous from the mention of Sally. She always gets an odd look in her eye when she’s mentioned.

“What else is fun?” She asks him softly, looking as if she’s deep in thought, “That we haven’t done.” She adds after a quick second, and he wonders if she’s trying to venture out to try some new things.

“Group sex was kinda cool,” He admitted, unsure of how she’d react to that, “But don’t get any ideas. I’m not sharing you.” He tells her in a playful way but means it in a serious manner. He didn’t like the idea of anyone else being with her, touching her.

“Like, with multiple people?” Her eyes widened like she hadn’t thought about it. She giggles suddenly, “Um okay.” She tucks her hair behind her ear, the little strands curling against the curve of her cheek as she listens to him.

“You’re too cute to share.” He teases her softly, knowing his words are cheesy but they’re true too. He moved one of his hands away from the steering wheel, just enough so he could pinch her cute little cheek.

“How many people have you had sex with at once?” Kim asks a second later, knitting her eyebrows together in confusion. He flicks his tongue across his bottom lip, wondering if she really wanted to know the answer or not.

“There were a few nights when dad had to work late shifts,” Billy started as he looked out towards the coast, feeling like he was breathing after having his head under water for the longest time, “Sally would stay over and used to invite her friends. I learned a lot that summer.” Billy says quickly, though he’s quick to remember that he’s probably oversharing to Kim. He doesn’t miss the way that she stiffens, how her features contort in discomfort.

“When you say friends,” She says slowly, “You mean that they were her age?” She asks for clarity, looking like she’s trying to connect the pieces together. He shrugs his shoulders, not really thinking much of it.

“Yeah,” He knits his eyebrows together, “Eighteen, maybe nineteen.” He tries to think of the exact age of all of them, but realistically he has no clue. Sally never spent much time introducing him to them, not that he really minded either.

“And you were like thirteen?” Kim sounds like she’s holding her breath, like she’s afraid of what his answer will be. He shifts in his seat again, beginning to feel like he’s being interrogated.

“Just about.” He says briefly, not mentioning that he could’ve been about twelve when it happened. He really doesn’t see what the big deal is. Kim inhales deep, like she’s filling fresh air in her lungs before she shoots him her next question.

“So how many were in this group?” She fiddles with her fingers as she speaks, glancing towards him with sorrowful eyes. He doesn’t understand why she gets so upset over the subject. His relationship with Sally didn’t bother him. Sure, she had been older, but he really didn’t mind that at all.

“Four to five usually,” He says, feeling a little more unsure the more he speaks, “I think there were eight of us all together at one time.” He glances over towards her, expecting her to be jealous or furious. Instead, he’s met with a pale expression, and she looks like she’s about to vomit all over his floor. He looks away quickly, unsure of how to register her reaction.

“Did you love her?” She asks a few minutes later, after a tense silence had settled over them. He blinks in surprise as he turns towards her, still expecting to be met with a jealous expression. She looks calmer, but more concerned than anything.

“Sally?” He asks, looking towards her surprised. She nods her head, looking like she’s worried over what his response will be, “I mean she said it to me all the time, but I never said it back.” He says after a brief pause so he could search his memory. Sally liked to remind him of it all the time, although now he knew that it wasn’t love. It was just sex.

“Alright, you didn’t say it,” Kim said softly as she began to draw out her next question, “But did you feel it?” Her tone is still soft as she tilts her head towards him, observing his features like she’s searching for any lies. He feels his eyebrows raising high on his forehead.

“I was like thirteen,” Billy laughed as a way to dismiss her claim, “I didn’t know what I felt.” He told her seriously. He had felt something for Sally, but it wasn’t what he felt with Kim. He hadn’t felt this way with anyone before. He knew that Kim had nothing to worry about.

“Billy,” She breathes in slowly, “I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but I just want-” He shakes his head quickly, speaking up before she can say anything else.

“Don’t make me out to be a victim,” He speaks fast before she can get another word out. He still makes sure that he doesn’t snap at her as he knows that she’s just trying to make him feel better, “I wanted it too.” He glances at her again, noticing the despondent look in her eyes. She pauses for a minute as he turns back towards the road, hoping this conversation was done.

“Still,” She tells him gently, “You were thirteen, a kid. She should’ve known better,” He looks towards her, feeling the urge to argue again before she’s speaking up, “They’re stopping up here.” She tells him, leaning onto the edge of her seat to get a closer look.

The house was indeed close to the beach, probably just a ten-minute walk away. The sun beats down on the light blue house, making it look cozier than it probably was. Billy pulls onto the side of the street, just in case Sam’s wife wasn’t home. The house sits on the end of the street, free from any neighbors to the right. However, the house to the left is tightly packed up against it with a thin wooden fence to separate the two.

“Wow,” Kim speaks out in surprise as she slowly unbuckles her seatbelt, “It’s cute.” The house was a blue gray, with a bright yellow roof. The curtains were pulled wide on the inside, showing off the large homey like windows.

“Yeah,” Billy admits, “How did he afford this?” Billy asks in disbelief, unsure of how Sam had managed it. It didn’t look any larger than Billy’s childhood home, but it did make him wonder if Sam’s wife was fairly well off. Kim steps out first, still wearing a dreamy look in her eyes.

Billy inhales deeply, soaking in the sun that caresses his skin. The weather and the way the sun sits feels completely different from how it did in Hawkins. Billy can hear the waves crashing against the sandy shore, can taste the salt in the air and feel the gentle breeze that rolls off from the ocean.

Billy follows Kim out of the car but takes a slower pace as he begins to stretch out. Kim takes longer strides, looking around with an enthused look on her features that matches Max’s. Max’s mouth is parted in awe, looking like she can’t believe the sight in front of her.

“This is your car,” Sam gestures towards it, smiling happily, “What do you think?” He looks a little nervous as he glances back towards Kim. Billy looks at the car, a little impressed with it himself. It looks new, despite being a few years older. Its yellow color is nice, and he thinks the tone matches Kim nicely.

“It’s nice,” Kim says quickly, and Billy can tell that she means it, “Thank you.” She tucks her hair behind her ear, looking like she wants to reach out to Sam for a moment before she quickly decides against it. She turns towards Billy, sending him a stiff smile.

“Great,” Sam nods his head, looking a little disappointed as he sticks his hands in his pockets. Billy reaches forward to link his fingers with Kim’s and he finds himself shooting her a reassuring smile. She nods her head as she brushes her shoulder against his, “Let’s go look around first?” He asks, looking a little excited as he guides them inside.

Billy walks in last, lingering a bit as his grip on Kim’s fingers loosen a bit. The house is bright, full of sunlight and color as soon as he walks in. He peers around curiously, his eyes peering in the different fall decorations that are placed on the mantle of the fireplace.

The walls were a bright white, like they’d had a fresh coat of paint applied to them right before they arrived. The floors were nice and wooden, the color a light brown that mixed nicely with the wooden part of the armchairs and couch. The cushions were a light blue as well, puffy with multiple layers of quilted blankets over them. Something about the house smelt familiar, warm and cozy.

“I’ve started a garden,” Sam says with a smile, looking towards Kim to peer in on her reaction, “I’ve been documenting the various bugs and animals that linger around the plants.” It takes everything in Billy to keep from laughing at Sam’s statement. Billy bets that Sam takes a notebook out and doodles the images of the plants and bugs too.

“That’s neat,” Max looks intrigued, like that was the most exciting idea she’d ever heard of, “Can you show me later?” She asks, following Sam with a large skip. Billy shakes his head, wondering how he got surrounded by so many dweebs.

“I miss gardening,” Kim told him softly as they took their time to walk towards the kitchen, “That might be fun.” She shrugged her shoulders, looking like she was having a hard time convincing herself. He nodded his head, wishing he could be a little more encouraging too.

The kitchen was quite large as Billy scanned it. The counters and cupboards were the same wooden color as the rest of the house. He stepped a little color, peering at the yellow, tiled walls. He nudged Kim, motioning towards the various flowers that decorated every other tile. She smiled in wonder.

He was surprised to see how well lived in the house seemed. The kitchen was slightly messy, but not enough in a way that drove Billy crazy. There were dishes out drying, a stack of cookies placed on a large dish and a few wooden spoons that were out next to the stove.

Directly next to the kitchen was the dining room. Billy could tell right away that the table was new as it was far too shiny and clean. It was a rectangle shape, with the ends of the table circular rather than sharp and pointy. There were eight chairs that were neatly placed against the table, the cushions were once again a light blue.

“This is outside,” Sam pulls the screen door open. Billy feels elated as he can actually hear the ocean, “It’s not too bad.” It’s fairly small, but Billy quickly remembers that all backyards are small here. There is indeed a small area for the garden, as well as an outdoor lounging area and a little fire pit.

“This is really neat,” Max said, “I love this house.” She beamed, not one ounce of sadness lingering on her features anymore. Billy wondered if he had forgotten her friends that easily or if she was just trying that hard for her dad.

“Good, I’m so glad,” Sam smiled as he bent over to kiss the top of her head, “Do you want to see the rooms?” He still held onto Max’s shoulder, giving her a soft squeeze as he looked towards the other two teens.

“Sure,” Kim answered as she rubbed her hand across her elbow, “That would be nice.” She’s still awkward, looking like she’s suddenly out of place. Billy lingers close to her again, nudging her softly before they’re following Max and Sam down the hallway.

“The master bedroom is down the other hallway,” Sam points far behind them, past the living room, “Here’s a bathroom and then Russell’s room.” He begins as he taps his palm against a few doors. Billy doesn’t miss the way Max’s eyes narrow at the mention of Russell.

The hallway is just as decorated and lively, but a little crowded from how many rooms were packed into one space. Billy wondered how he’d survive in a space with one more person. He wasn’t used to so many people. He felt himself growing a little stressed from the thought.

“Max’s room,” Sam grins as Max bounds inside. The walls are a soft green and looks like it’s decorated in a very nature like way. There’s a quilt on her bed that consists of various green and yellow patterns, “You can change it however you want. This was just, you know, temporary until you made it yourself.” He smiled towards the younger girl.

Max plopped herself on the edge of the bed, her hair flopping before she jolted backwards onto the bed. She groaned loudly as she stretched out her arms and legs. Billy found himself grinning, glad that she was at least enjoying herself.

Billy turned, following Kim down to the next room. She slowly pushed the door open, her eyes lighting up with curiosity. She turned, looking past Billy as Sam followed them.

“This one is mine?” Kim asked with uncertainty, tilting her head to confirm her suspicions. Billy leaned against the doorway, doing his best to ignore Sam’s irritating presence behind him.

“Yeah,” Sam looks a little nervous as he watches her, “What do you think?” He asks, his eyes momentarily glancing towards Billy as if he could answer Sam’s question. Billy turns away again, inspecting the room for any faults it may have.

It’s a little larger than Max’s room, with a large window that looks directly out to the ocean. Billy breathes in deeply, wondering if they can open the window and listen to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. The walls aren’t painted like Max’s, but rather consist of a floral pattern. Her bedsheets are pink, with two large matching pillows before the smaller ones consist of even more floral patterns.

She had a small vanity that was near the corner of her room, surrounded by a large bookshelf that he was sure she was dying to fill with books. He looked down at a large rug that laid on her carpeted floor. It was a light brown shade that was filled with various orange, yellow and light green sunflowers. It reminded him of the seventies.

Billy’s eyes gaze across the older looking wooden clock on the wall, then looks at the quilt. The squares alternated between a light yellow and purple and again had flowers decorated across part of the patterns. He felt stalled for a moment, as if it was bringing up a repressed memory. He tried to think but found nothing.

“It’s pretty,” Kim finally responded as she brushed her fingertips across the yellow curtains, “Really pretty.” She nodded her head, smiling softly. Billy watches her for a moment, noticing that her smile doesn’t meet her eyes. He wonders if she’s missing Susan and her friends.

“I’m so glad you liked it,” Sam sighed deeply in relief as his eyes looked back towards Billy, “There’s one more room.” He nods his head, moving one more room down. Billy tries not to grumble underneath his breath, wanting to protest that he could just stay with Kim.

“It’s close by,” Kim nudged him softly, whispering as they followed behind, “I can see you every night.” She teased, earning a smile from him as well. He figured he’d be in her bedroom more often than not anyways.

“Billy, you can take this room,” Sam pushes one of the doors open, “Sorry it’s not decorated as well. It was a guest room.” He apologizes as he lets Billy walk inside. Kim follows close behind him, looking around just as curiously.

The paint was white like in the living room. The bed sheets and comforter were all a matching light blue. Billy figured that Sam’s wife must enjoy quilting as another one adorned the bed. This one looked a little older, a little more faded and simpler. He stepped a bit closer, letting his fingertips brush against it. It was a darker blue, with carnations pressed throughout each of the squares. It’s a little messier, making Billy think that this must’ve been one of her first designs.

“It’ll work.” Billy shrugs his shoulders. It is a little plain, but he doesn’t really care. He’s already beginning to hope that Sam stays true to his word and will help Kim and him get an apartment.

“You can do whatever you want with it,” Sam offers, “It’s yours.” He speaks kindly. Billy glances around one more time before he meets Kim’s gentle eye. She smiles brightly at him.

“Does your wife know about me?” Billy asks at last, wondering how he’d been introduced. Sam pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and Billy suddenly realizes that they know nothing about his wife or his stepson. He wonders if they’re just as weird.

“Uh,” Sam pauses, “No, but I figured we’ll get there when we get there.” He shrugs his shoulders, like it won’t be a big deal. Billy does his best to keep from grumbling, deciding it’s too late to argue anyways. Sam could make it into his own problem.

It takes a few trips to get everything unloaded from the cars and Billy feels like it’ll be even longer before the girls are unpacked. He feels slightly bad that they have school tomorrow and feels his own panic sinking in as he remembers he doesn’t have a job. Which means he’ll be stuck here with Sam. He thinks about it for a moment, wondering if it was smart to go ahead and buy a surfboard.

“What do you think?” Kim asked, looking towards him curiously as she folded her clean clothes into the drawers. He stared at her motions, thinking that she’d need a warmer wardrobe here shortly. He shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s a nice house, the rooms are pretty cool,” He tapped his fingers against his thighs as he thought, “I don’t know. Something feels like it’s missing.” He said at last, fearful that she would know he was speaking of Neil. She turned, looking up at him curiously as she rested her chin on his knee.

“I miss my mom,” She admitted, looking vulnerable as she spoke, “I’ve never been anywhere without her.” She inhales softly as she draws her thumb down along his ankle. She rubs her nail across the material of his sock.

“I’m sorry,” He tells her honestly, relating more to her than he thinks that she realizes. He brushes his fingers through her soft hair gently, taking in the concentrated look on her features, “You can call her.” He says softly, although he knows it’s not the same thing.

“I think she’s still angry,” Kim speaks up softly, like she’s afraid Sam could be listening, “I know she said she wasn’t, but it still feels like she is.” She breathes in deeply, her hazel eyes moving across the floor.

“I wonder how long it’ll take for our parents to hear about us in jail,” He grins, feeling a little amused at the thought of Neil finding out that he was out and official with Kim. A flush settled over her cheeks, but she grinned up towards him, “We’re probably the talk of the town.” He reminds her gently.

“Ugh,” Kim groans as she hides her face in his knee again, “I can’t believe I did that.” He laughed, a little enthused on how easily embarrassed she gets. He plays with her hair again, feeling a little comforted with how normal they feel at the moment. He supposes that it’s a good thing to move, they can finally be together. Not to mention, she doesn’t have to worry about leaving Max behind.

“It’s alright,” He tilts her chin up towards her softly, grinning sweetly at her, “You should ask Addi to see what they’re saying.” He says as a second thought, wondering who will be cocky in suggesting that they had known about them. He was convinced that no one did, rather that they just liked to spread rumors.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s a bunch of nasty stuff,” She grins, lightly dragging her lips against the material of his jeans before she sits up a little straighter, “Do you want to get something to snack on?” She asks, looking a little curiously. He nods his head. He’s not really hungry, but he knows that she won’t feed herself unless he does too.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” He reassures her, standing up after her. He pauses, wrinkling his nose as she twists her body back and forth. He feels a shiver racing up his spine at the way her body cracks and pops from the motions, “Jesus.” He shakes his head, unsure of how she hasn’t broken something.

She sends him a grin before she bounds down the hallway, looking a little more excited as she walks out into the living room. Max is talking up a storm, lounging on the couch as Sam continues to move her things closer and closer to the hallway.

“What’s this?” Max asks, motioning towards some boxes that had been left in the corner of the living room. Sam walked over, reading over it curiously before he smiled.

“It’s just pictures,” He fumbled with the edge of the cardboard box for a moment, “We just moved in not too long ago. We still have some things to fix up.” He nodded his head and his eyes moved from side to side like he was looking through his own mental list.

“You just moved in?” Kim asked curiously as she held one of her own boxes in her arms. Billy watched the way she adjusted in her arms, his eyes staring at the way her shirt raised over her navel. He wondered if Max could distract Sam long enough for them to break in her bed.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded his head as he moved away from the discarded boxes, “About a month ago. A lot has changed since then actually.” He smiled brightly, like it was great news. Billy wasn’t so sure. If Sam was only a month sober, then it meant that there was plenty of time for him to fall off the wagon.

“Oh,” Kim looks like she’s connecting the dots too, “That’s cool.” She says as she tucks her hair behind her ears. Billy pauses, wondering if there’s a reason Sam hasn’t mentioned his wife. He wonders if she’s just as strung out as he was.

“I think I should just go over some ground rules,” Sam says suddenly, as if he’s just realized he’s forgotten to mention them, “Curfew and stuff like that.” He keeps adjusting his glasses, like there’s something wrong with them.

“We have a curfew?” Max asks, looking up at him in confusion. Billy looks at where she’s sprawled out on the couch, confusion written across her features as she suddenly sits up. She seems to be adjusting a lot easier than he thought she would. Then again, she still had to make it through school tomorrow.

“Of course, why did you not have one before?” Sam asks curiously, looking a little concerned at the prospect of them not having any rules. Billy doesn’t mention that they did have a curfew but that was before Susan started drinking.

“Not during the summer,” Kim answers quickly, “A curfew is fine.” She nodded her head, clearly looking like she was defending Susan. Billy felt bad for her again and wondered how badly she missed her mother. Sam nods his head before he continues.

“Eight thirty for school nights and on Sunday. Friday and Saturday it’s ten,” Sam says as she rests against the counter, “No smoking inside of the house, no drugs. Absolutely no drinking.” Billy suddenly realizes what Sam wants to achieve. He wants Billy dead.

Billy understands that this is Sam’s house, but he feels like his rules are dumb. Just because Sam wanted to make himself suffer, doesn’t mean that the rest of them had to. He feels like he’s going to have to do a lot of sneaking in and out of the house, even though he doesn’t technically live here.

He retreats to the kitchen after with Kim, both of them beginning to search for snacks. Billy wonders if Sam ever cooks anything or if he just plans on feeding them fast food for as long as they remain here. He wouldn’t be surprised. He thinks that Kim had mentioned having to grocery shop for them before.

“Do you think these are okay to eat?” She asks, looking a little unsure as she stares at a plate of cookies. She looks like a little kid, her eyes wide as she stares at them. He cracks a grin as he pulls out a jar of peanut butter.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” He tells her, not caring if it’s fine or not. He fumbles around for a little bit until he finds where the silverware is located. He pulls out a spoon and joins her by one of the counters, “Go ahead.” He reassures her, watching the way she finally decides to scoop it up in her hands.

“These are really good,” Kim’s eyes were wide as she inhaled one of the cookies, “They’re so sweet.” She tells him encouragingly. He chuckles as he dips his spoon into the jar of peanut butter, about to answer before the sound of the front door opening draws his thoughts away.

“Go ahead,” Billy nudged Kim forward, watching the way she stiffened and held her fingers tightly together, “You’re fine.” She looked pale, like she suddenly didn’t know how to act on her own.

“Right,” She muttered softly, “It’s fine.” He decided it was best for him to wait, not wanting Sam’s new wife to freak out over him joining in. Kim breaths in deeply before she heads that way, popping her knuckles as she does so. Billy finds himself shaking his head, grinning at how easily her nerves creep in. He didn’t see how it would be possible for Sam’s new family to not fall in love with Kim.

“Well of course you’re Max,” Billy licked the remaining peanut butter from his spoon, his ears sinking in the voice of the woman speaking, “And you must be Kim?” Billy listens for a minute as a spark forms in his mind, realizing that the woman’s voice sounds very familiar. She has an accent, a slight twang.

“This is Russell,” Billy listens as Sam must be introducing the boy that had been an ass over the phone, “We’re going to be family now.” Billy tries not to snort, thinking that Sam’s statement was ridiculous. He’s curious though as he peers around the corner, wanting to know who the woman was.

The woman is speaking again, but her back is facing Billy. She has on a long, flowy purple dress that’s full of designs. The boy who must be Russell is standing next to her, his blonde hair is past his shoulders and just as curly and thick as hers. She’s a lot shorter than him, she looks like she’s barely the same height as Max. Sam isn’t that much taller than Billy, but he seems to tower over her. The room suddenly goes quiet as Billy enters, his weight creaking underneath the floorboards.

“Oh, right,” Sam rubs the back of his neck, looking unsure of what to say, “This is-,” He gestures out towards Billy, but is stopped as the woman speaks up. She turns towards Billy fully, her eyes lighting up.

“Billy,” She looked at him stunned, her features falling from anguish to shock to joy. He stared into her blue eyes, realizing she looked exactly like he’d remembered her, “You’ve come home.” Said Rosemary.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove stepcest #tw stepcest #tw pseudocest #billy hargrove x original character #stepcest #Dancing in the Dark

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thetaleoflevi · 2 years

Text

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Lovers Who Hesitate

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Pairing: Levi x fem!reader

Content: NSFW, Modern AU

Content Warnings: Insinuated poor relationship with family, explicit language, workaholic reader, alcohol *wine, drunk reader, vomit, 18+ smut, rub a dub dub…sorry, hand job through boxers, PIV sex, breast play, clitoral stimulation, scratching, more 18+ things, 18+ warning no. 3!, friends to lovers

Word Count: 13.4k

Description: Just a whole fic dedicated to Levi and Reader acting like dumb lovers throughout their friendship.

A/N: I hate writing descriptions//summaries. You guys know this and yet I still mention it every time I post something. Apologies :p. Anyways, I really hope you enjoy! 💙

⭐️Taglist: @urfilgoth @ackermandick

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You were in love. You fell so hard, and it was the messiest thing you’d ever felt. It was upsetting when you finally came to terms with it, because you had given into one of those things you said you wouldn’t get into. “Money and success are the way of life,” you vividly remember your mother telling you when you were just twelve years old. Love had no room in the equation, or so your days on this popular, lonely planet showed you.

The universe was cruel for letting someone like him get in the way of you making life your bitch. It was stupid. He had a habit of walking into your office and watching you work, knowing he had things to get to before the end of the day. You found it childish whenever you blushed at the feeling of his body heat radiating from behind you. He enjoyed the rage that engulfed you when you were forced to stay later because your boss was a lazy asshole who pretended he didn’t know how to do his job so that you would do it for him. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Right…?

“Hey, Levi?” You poke your head through the doorway of his office.

“Yes, what can I do for you?” He spins his chair to face you, folding his hands in his lap, giving you all of his attention. It shouldn’t affect you as much as it does, but you can feel your ears getting warmer by the second.

“Oh, um, I was gonna go get some coffee from the shop across the street, and I was wondering if you wanted something.” You straighten your posture, your whole body in the room now.

“Did you ask anybody else?” His lip quirks up a little. You’re too kind for your own good.

“N-No. You’re kind of my only friend here,” you chuckle nervously, your whole face now growing warm at the lame confession.

“I see. I think it’s only fair that I join you, then. As your friend.” He stands up from his chair, grabbing his coat from the hook built into his door.

“I can just bring it to you. You don’t have to come with me,” you insist. “It’s right across the street. I’ll be back in two minutes.”

“It’s lunchtime. I doubt you’ll be back in two minutes.” He grabs his keys, putting them in his pocket as he nears the exit. “The lunch rush is killer for that tiny shop.“ He’s out the door before you are, but when he continues walking and doesn’t hear you behind him, he turns around.

“Come on. We can even sit inside if you want.”

You nod, an awkward smile on your face as you follow closely behind him.

—

“Have you had anything from this place? I’m looking at the premium black tea. It says premium but in my experience, anything with the word premium before it is a simple product with an extra charge.” He scans the board filled top to bottom with different items handwritten in a curly font.

“Actually, I haven’t. I just really needed some caffeine, but my go-to cafe is closed today.” You inch closer to the person in front of you as the line moves forward.

“Ah, then I guess this will be a first time for the both of us.” He looks away from the board, facing you. Your cheeks have a pink tint to them. You shove your sweaty hands into your pockets, still clenching them tightly.

“I can help the next guest,” the cashier calls to you and Levi. “What can I get started for you guys today?” The brunette says, emerald eyes flickering from your breasts to your eyes.

“I have a question about your premium black tea. What about it makes it a premium drink? There’s an extra charge for it, so it must be deserving of it.” Levi talks to the cashier, not getting full attention from the him. His name tag said ‘Eren’.

“Uh, yeah, give me a second. Mikasa!” He calls the black haired woman in the other room. She was quick to get beside him.

“Yes, Eren?” Her soft spoken voice was a great contrast to her pretty face.

“The guest wants to know what makes the premium black tea a premium drink.”

“Oh, the tea leaves are imported from China. The price per pound is a bit expensive, so we do want to make sure we make our money back eventually.” Her tone is flat as she answers any follow up questions Levi has.

“Did you need anything else, Eren?” Her voice gains its softness again.

“No, that was it. Thanks, Mikasa.” He winks at her, the woman’s pale face going red in seconds. She walks away, quickly turning to hide her blush.

“I’ll try the tea, then. What do you want?” Levi turns to you.

“Coffee,” you blurt. You’re not blind. You can see the direction the man’s eyes are looking in, and it’s unsettling.

“Okay. Did you want any sugar, milk, or creamer?” Levi catches onto your uncomfortableness.

“Yes.”

“Okay. She’ll have her coffee with milk and sugar.”

The cashier rings it all up, giving Levi a receipt. Once the drinks are ready, Levi goes to pick them up. “It’s polite to look customers in the eye when helping them.” He picks up the two cups, looking at Eren’s name tag one more time before going to the table you sat at.

“This one is mine and this one is yours.” He puts the cup down in front of you. “I don’t think we should come back here.”

“Why not?” You bring the cup to your lips, the hot liquid instantly burning your tongue as it enters your mouth.

“I know somewhere better. We’ll have to finish our work quicker, but I promise it’s worth it.”

Why does he have to be so impressive? Why can’t he give you a reason to hate him? A reason to focus solely on your life and forget about him.

“That sounds nice, but when aren’t we slammed with work? We got lucky today.” You attempt to push away from the idea.

“Why does it have to be during work?” His sterling eyes look into yours, his focus unwavering.

You think you should just come clean. You can’t stray off the path of success. Sadly, happiness isn’t part of the equation either.

“Levi, I-“

Your phone vibrates in your pocket. Your boss’s name pops up on the screen.

“One second,” you say, clicking the green button. Your boss wanted to know where you were, and unfortunately you got an earful.

Levi took the time to admire your features. Your lips formed the syllables of every word so elegantly, and your word choice is so careful, like you’ve prepared for conversations you haven’t had yet for days. He looks down at your neck, a simple necklace decorating it. Levi realizes something as you defend yourself on the phone. You’re beautiful, kind, and you know what you want, but you seem unavailable. You seem oblivious to his advances, or just plain uninterested.

“Okay. See you there,” you say, ending the phone call. You exhale frustratedly. “Boss called. I have to go.” You stand up, pushing your chair in with one hand, picking your cup up with the other.

“If you have to go, I have to go.” A small smile forms on his face.

“No, you’re fine. He didn’t ask for you.”

“If I sit here alone, it defeats the purpose of me coming with you. I wanted to spend my break with you.” He stands, repeating the same process as you.

“Sorry, Levi. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll buy the drinks next time.” You blush as he gets closer. The smell of his cologne wafts into your nose, and suddenly you feel even more nervous than before.

“It’s fine. We’re not coming back here. Let’s go.” His palm lands on your upper back, guiding you towards the exit. He turns to look at the cashier one more time, giving him a cold expression before following you back to the building.

You went right back to your office and slaved yourself for another three hours, sipping on the coffee that got cold as you focused on the endless reports on your computer screen. You clicked the last key for the day, slouching in your chair immediately after. Your phone buzzed on the desk, and the screen glowed with a notification. Levi’s name popped up.

Have dinner with me?

Your blood ran cold and your heartbeat was erratic. What about you intrigued him so much? Why did he want to spend time with you? What made you special?

Okay. Nothing fancy.

Just for tonight. Let me take you somewhere nice.

‘This sounds like a date’ you typed before deleting the message.

This is a one time thing, Ackerman. What time?

9PM. I’ll pick you up.

Deal.

—

It’s eight forty-five and you’re still panicking about how you should do your hair. It’s so unmanageable, too. It keeps sticking out in different directions, and you’re stressing about it like hell.

Just parked. The reservation is for 9:30 and it’s a 20 minute drive. Not trying to rush you or anything :)

No. The smiley face. You wasted a solid three minutes staring at it, and your hair still looked crazy.

—

You got in his car, feeling proud of yourself for being able to tame your mane.

“God,” Levi says, gawking at you. He’s blushing and you don’t even notice because you’re too focused on second guessing your outfit choice.

“W-What? Don’t we have to get going? It’s nine ten.” You try to distract him from your appearance.

“Forget the reservation. I’m cooking for you.”

“Oh, but you spent all that money. Let me at least pay you back.” You open your purse and pull out an inch of your wallet before Levi pushes it back in.

“It doesn’t matter. You can pay me back by letting me cook for you. I promise my cooking isn’t as bad as you might think.”

You chuckle before giving in.

“Okay, fine.”

He grins, putting the gear in drive, before driving you to his lovely home.

—

“Make yourself at home. Can I get you like something to drink?” He taps your shoulder, signaling for you to give him your coat.

“I’ll have what you’re having.” You feel strange in his house, not comfortable, but not totally uncomfortable. Being in a house that isn’t yours makes your nervous for a number of reasons, the main one being that if something breaks or goes missing, you’ll be the first person to blame as the invitee.

“I was gonna have a glass of wine. Are you sure you’ll have the same?” He goes into the kitchen, heading towards a cabinet where he stores fancy alcohol that is reserved only for the most special occasions. The occasion of today—you’re spending time with him outside of work, and that makes him feel like a hundred lightning bolts are powering him up.

He feels good about having you in his home. He prefers it because it’s more personal for him to cook for you than to pay for someone else to do it.

“Yeah, that should be fine.” You tiptoe towards the kitchen, stopping on the nonexistent line that divides the kitchen and the living room. You watch Levi as he skims through the labels on endless bottles of wine, not knowing that he’s choosing the most elegant one to share with you.

“This one looks good. We’ll start you off with half a glass because I don’t know what your alcohol tolerance is like.” He reaches up to grab two bulbous glasses from the cupboard.

“I don’t drink much wine, so I wouldn’t be able to tell you either.” You chuckle, still awkwardly standing between the two rooms.

The scarlet colored liquid pours into the glasses, yours only filled halfway, as promised, while Levi’s fills up just a little more.

“I’m gonna boldly assume that you have a high tolerance for alcohol. Correct me if i’m wrong.”

“Exactly. I’m still going to sip on it, but only because I’m trying to prove a point.” He goes into the fridge and brings out colorful ingredients for the meal he’s going to wow you with.

“Which is?” You question.

“Hmm…I need this, and this…and some of this,” he mutters to himself as he picks more ingredients from the drawers. He puts them all in a basket, thoroughly washing them before setting the basket on the counter so that he can rinse his cutting board and a knife. The water shuts off and he sets the cutting board over a damp towel.

“I know how to cook more than just scrambled eggs and ramen noodles.”

He finally says something about the way you’re still standing between the kitchen and living room, quirking a brow at the strangeness. “Sit on that stool for me, will you?” He points at a circle shaped stool that positions you in front of him, with his knife. He rolls up the sleeves of his light grey dress shirt before starting the prepping process for dinner.

You talked about so many things while watching him cook. How he got lured into the company you both work at, how much you both hated your lousy boss, dreams, places you’ve always wanted to go to. You got stuck on that last one for the longest time because Levi kept offering to take you to the places you only saw in your dreams. You settled for going on a spontaneous trip to Salzburg with him. The only rule was that it couldn’t be any time within the next two years, and that the trip had to be spontaneous. He agreed.

“It smells so fucking good, Levi.” You inhaled the smell that filled the air deeply. The profanity was a surprise, but he was glad you liked the aroma of the food he’d put so much effort into.

“One more minute.” He leans against the counter, watching as you eye your glass of wine. Half of it was gone, and you felt fine, or maybe you didn’t. Maybe that’s where the vulgar word came from.

“Time is a weird concept, don’t you think? In another dimension, the food would be done already, and in another dimension you would barely be putting it into the oven. I hate to break it to you, but in another dimension, we got carried away finding out about each other, and your food burned.”

Levi had figured out that day that your alcohol tolerance was weak. “I think it’s ready. Let’s get some food in your stomach.”

His oven mitts were cute. They were a gift from someone named Hange, and regardless of how stupid Levi thought the penguin littered, baby blue mitts were, he didn’t have the heart to throw them away. Hange moved hours—miles away, and these were one of his prized possessions.

—

“This is so good. Where did you learn to cook?” Halfway through the meal you sobered up a little. Partially because you stopped drinking the wine and stuffed your face a little.

“I’m self taught. I came to a realization during my final year of university,” he takes another sip of wine, taking his time to tell you his background of cooking, while you’re hanging onto every one of his words.

“What was the realization after all of that?” You ask, finally taking another sip of wine.

“I never want to live off of instant macaroni and cheese or frozen pizza ever again.” He picks up the perfect serving of vegetables and steak with his fork, feeding it into his mouth. “For something that takes two minutes to make, you get some shitty paste of a meal, when really, if you take more time and put in a little more effort, you can make something healthy—something that actually fills you.”

You suddenly feel ashamed of your stash of Kraft macaroni and cheese.

“Do you know how to cook?” He asks, washing down his last bite with a sip of wine.

“Not like this. I can cook you a piece of steak at most.” You savor the last bite of your meal. It’s something you wouldn’t even think to make in a million years.

“I can teach you, if you’d like,” his face warms up at the idea of spending even more time with you.

“No, I can’t ask you to do something like that for me. I’d only test your patience, and your patience is already tested at work.” You smile politely.

“I would have so much patience with you.”

Your face goes rosy at his last sentence. He didn’t mean it that way, but sometimes your mind likes making you think in that manner.

“Well, i’ll leave that at a maybe.”

—

“More wine?” He asks for the fifth time that night.

“Yes, please, Mr. Ackerman,” you slur. He had drank the same amount as you, maybe even more, yet it made less of an effect on him than you.

You stare blankly at the remaining drops at the bottom of your glass.

“On second thought, I don’t need it. It’s getting late, and I have to walk home,” your eyes were halfway shut and you spoke sluggishly.

“There’s no way you’re walking home in this state.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “And why is that? You’re telling me I can’t go home?”

You’re a mess. A stubborn, beautiful mess. Levi feels honored to be allowed to see you this way. You’re not stressing over work, you’re not stressing over family expectations. You’re intoxicated and honest.

“Maybe,” he replies to your cold gaze. “I’ll give you two options. One: you spend the night here. I have an extra room you can sleep in and i’ll be right next door if you need anything. Two: we sober up in the next few hours and i’ll drive you home as soon as I can.”

You go into a pensive state, struggling to remember the first option.

“One is my favorite number so i’ll go with that choice.”

At least you forgot how irritated you were a second ago when Levi said you couldn’t walk home.

“Levi, my favorite number is one,” you repeat.

“You mentioned that earlier.”

“Becauseeee, it’s so lonely. I could keep it company.” You blink. “Are you lonely? Am I keeping you company?”

“Yes.” That answered both of your questions.

“I’m so happy to be here with you, you know. I have something to tell you, but you can’t tell anyone. Okay?” You scooch closer to him, your shoulder touching his.

“Okay,” he says, mainly to entertain you.

You lean in, cupping his ear as you whisper what you’ve kept to yourself for months, maybe even a year now.

“I have a crush on you, Levi.” You giggle in his ear. “You can’t tell anyone, though.”

His cheeks are bright red, and suddenly it’s difficult to sit so close to you. His silence scares you, and you’re scared he might spill tea that isn’t meant to be spilled.

“Swear you won’t tell.”

“Who would I tell?” He asks, turning his head to face you.

“Your friend Hange and the people at work. Please don’t tell them, Levi. It’s embarrassing.” You hide your face behind his shoulder. “Swear.”

“Okay, I won’t tell anyone. I swear.”

You come out of hiding and kiss his cheek multiple times, a surprise that spreads fire to his whole body.

“I like you a lot. I’ve been dying to do this since…” you hiccup. “I don’t remember, but it’s a really long time,” you slur as you hop onto his lap, holding his face in your hands as you pepper more kisses all over it.

‘It’s just kisses,’ Levi thinks to himself. If it goes further, he’ll put an end to it.

“Your hair is so soft,” you say, twirling a strand between your fingers. You sigh, your breath bringing goosebumps to his skin. Something must have disappointed you, because you stopped immediately and put your face in his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” Levi asks, looking down at you. He’s hesitant, but eventually he puts a hand on your head, smoothing down some ruffled parts of your hair.

“I-I don’t want to say it. It’s embarrassing,” you speak into his shoulder.

“You said i’m your only friend. That means you should be able to tell me anything.”

You hum in agreement, lifting your head to face him once again. You pull the straps of your dress down, revealing your bare shoulders. You can’t look at him as you do it, so you look at the wall behind him.

“I-I want you to take me to the bedroom, Levi.” You lower the bust of your dress, exposing the matching red strapless bra you’re wearing.

He wants this so badly. He hasn’t wanted anything as much as he wants you, in so long.

“How about we get ready to sleep?” He pulls your dress back up, sliding your arms back into the straps.

“But Levi, I need you.” You squeeze his waist with your thighs.

“You need to sleep it off is what you need,” he says, holding onto the bottom of your dress so it doesn’t ride up when he carries you to the extra room.

“Okay, maybe next time,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his neck and laying your head on his shoulder as he stands up. He carries you as if you weigh no more than a feather. He can hear what sounds like quiet snores coming from you before you even make it to the room. He flicks the light switch on with his back, before moving towards the bed. He lays you down on the comfy bed, but you refuse to let go of him. Your arms stay wrapped around his neck tightly.

“You wouldn’t let me sleep alone in here, would you?” You mumble, your eyes still closed.

“I think it would be inappropriate if I stayed,” he whispers as he unlinks your arms from his neck. He straightens his posture, looking down into your barely open eyes.

“Levi, stay,” you whine, reaching your arms towards him slowly like a sloth. “You have my consent, look.” You put a thumbs up and grin toothily. “You can even bring me a notepad and i’ll sign the legal documents needed for you to sit your ass in that chair.”

If he knew you would be so needy, he wouldn’t have continued to offer you more wine after the third glass. Then again, it was nice to know that you trusted him enough to be around him in this state.

He sighs knowing he’s lost the fight. He won’t lay in bed with you, he’ll just sleep in his home office chair. Before he sits down, he turns you onto your side, and brings the trash can close to the edge of the bed incase you wake up in the middle of the night feeling sick.

“You gonna go to sleep now?” He asks, getting comfortable in the chair.

Your eyes roll as you fight off sleep, but eventually you stop trying to open your eyes. You nod once they finally close, and Levi watches you to make sure you’re asleep for good.

Levi didn’t go to sleep until almost four in the morning because you kept moving onto your back, and every time you did he had to put you back on your side again. You wiggled into a position where you laid flat on your stomach, and Levi decided that he preferred for you to vomit on the bed than to choke on your vomit in your sleep.

You both slept peacefully until seven in the morning, when the alcohol had finally begun to irritate the lining of you stomach. Your cheeks felt hot, and you felt uncomfortable in every position you laid in. You looked over at Levi who had fallen asleep with his cheek resting in his palm. The squish was adorable, but you couldn’t enjoy it due to the discomfort in your guts.

Your stomach gurgled and you decided to make a run for it, almost tripping over the bottom of your dress as you sprinted to the bathroom.

Levi’s eyes snapped open, and he sharply inhaled as he woke up from his light slumber. His head turned rapidly in search of you, and he quickly discovered where you were due to the sound of the bathroom door slamming shut.

“Shit,” he muttered in a gravelly voice. He quickly stands up and traces your steps to meet you behind the bathroom door. He leans against the door, hearing all the upchuck, gagging, and coughing coming from you on the other side. This goes on for a good four minutes. He hears the way you groan after you think you’re done, only for you to gag before spilling your guts into the toilet again.

You spit into the toilet one last time before flushing, whining when you nearly collapse as you attempt to get off the floor. You blow your nose, throwing the evidence away, and immediately go for some water from the sink. You rinse your mouth a few times before actually swallowing some water.

“Are you okay?” Levi asks, his knuckles lightly knocking.

You open the door, startling him a little with your appearance. The beautiful makeup that you stunted the night before was now an enormous mess on your eyelids, waterline, and cheeks. The residue of mascara on your eyelashes left fan shaped marks on the upper part of your cheeks.

“I’m disgusting. D-Don’t ever let me drink like that again,” your eyes gloss over with newly formed tears that eventually slide down your cheeks.

“You’re fine, sweetheart.” Despite the mess of makeup all over your face, and the wet spot of vomit on the front of your dress, Levi still manages to pull you into his embrace. You sob openly, mainly due to the embarrassment of Levi hearing you throw up in his bathroom, and the fact that you smell horrendous, yet Levi still holds you like it doesn’t matter.

“We’re gonna get you cleaned up. You’re gonna shower, and then we’re gonna get that messy makeup off your face.”

You pull away and look up at him, resembling a raccoon with all the dark makeup around your eyes.

“I don’t have clothes to change into,” you nearly start crying again, but Levi prevents it.

“I have clothes you can wear. Wait here.” He leaves you for a few seconds to bring essentials for you. A clean towel, a shirt, and some sweatpants. He also brought you a new bar of soap, assuming you might not want to use the one he’s been using.

“Shower, change, then call me when you’re done. I’ll be in the kitchen making your hangover cure.” He sets everything down on the counter, and leaves you to it.

The warm water feels nice cascading over you despite your body already being uncomfortably warm. You refused to take a cold shower, even if it was probably better for you. The smell of the soap was comforting and it didn’t make you nauseous as you lathered it onto your body. You used it generously—the thought of having puke on your dress earlier was even more repulsing now. You examined the bottle of shampoo sitting on the shower caddy and reached for it to wash your hair. You hope your hair turns out as soft as Levi’s on the first use.

You finished up in the bathroom and called Levi as told. He was quick to follow your voice. You stood at the entrance of the door, holding the door in one hand, the other holding onto the doorframe. You looked adorable in his clothes, even with the heavy traces of makeup under your eyes.

“Let me help you take the makeup off. Sit on the counter.” He opens the bottom cabinets, crouching down to get some wipes. “I know they’re not as good as the ones you probably have, but they’ll do the job.” He stands up again, closing the cabinets. You’re already sitting on the counter.

“I’m sorry…” you say almost inaudibly. You don’t want to cry again, but damn, you feel pathetic.

He’s listening, so he doesn’t say anything. He pulls a wipe from the pack, wrapping it around his index finger to be able to clean with more precision.

“You did nothing wrong. It’s fine. Now stay still.” He gets closer, the wet towel inching towards your face until the coldness touches you. He wipes gently to make sure your skin doesn’t get irritated.

“I’m never drinking again. I’m never leaving my house again,” you babble.

“You still have to go to work. Again, stop moving.” He folds the towel, covering the dark makeup residing on it. The darkness around your left eye had been completely removed.

The coldness touches your face again, this time beneath your right eye.

“I don’t deserve your friendship, Levi. I don’t know how I can still face you after what happened last night. Why are you even my friend?” Your head slumps as your pessimistic mind takes over.

He raises your head and holds the bottom of your face, your cheeks squished between his thumb and the rest of his fingers in a semi firm grip. He wipes at the splotchiness around your left eye, total concentration taking over because he’s trying to avoid your eyeball.

“I told you to stop moving, but you wouldn’t listen so this is what it had to come to.” His focus remains on your right eye as he speaks, collecting all the color onto the clean part of the wipe. “I want you to know that I invited you out because I wanted to. I knew there was a chance something like this would happen, but I still wanted you to be here.” He moves back a little to see if you had any stains from the makeup.

“You throwing up in my bathroom doesn’t change the meaningful conversations we had yesterday.” He releases the hold be has on your face and throws the wipe away once he’s all done. “I would go through all of this again if it meant you would keep hanging out with me.” His hands lay on the counter beside your legs.

“All done. You’re back,” he says looking into your tired eyes. You look back into his eyes, and they look just as tired, maybe even more. He looks handsome even with his disheveled appearance. His soft hair sticks out at random parts of his head, resembling the sun.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you mumble, looking away.

“Like what?” His tone is soft, and it runs smoothly. He leans in a little, just enough to see the blush rising on your cheeks closely.

“Like that, so attentively with those eyes. You’re making me nervous.” You feel trapped by him. His hands have yet to move from their position beside you legs, and you feel the urge to move. You don’t want to accidentally brush your leg against his hand, it would make the situation awkward.

“It’s not my fault you can’t hold eye contact with me.” There’s a small grin on his lips. “Now, come on. Your hangover medicine is sitting on the table.” He backs up, allowing you to hop off the counter.

You follow him into the kitchen where you see the two unwashed glasses that held wine the night prior, in the sink.

“What a way to start off the morning, huh?” You joke, attempting to make small talk after what happened in the bathroom.

“I’ve seen worse.” He pours some tea into a mug and hands it off to you. “This stuff is way better than that premium crap at the shop.” He pours some for himself in another mug.

“But I don’t like tea. Do you have any coffee?” You take a whiff of the hot liquid in your cup. It smells good, and you decide you can’t knock it ‘til you try it.

“The tea is gonna help your headache, whether you like it or not. And no, I don’t have coffee.”

You take a sip, and scorch your tongue in the process. Your eyes water for a second, but now that you know how hot it is, you can take another sip knowing what to expect.

“It’s actually really good. Thank you, Levi.”

—

Levi took you home a few hours later when you felt better. You said you had things to do at your house, but in reality you just wanted to sleep in your own bed again. You wanted to feel comfortable with knocking things over, knowing they were yours.

Levi checked in every hour, and reminded you that if you needed anything he would get it for you. At some point in the afternoon, you knocked out and didn’t wake up until twelve in the morning. You checked the few messages that Levi left when you told him you were gonna take a nap, and then went right back to sleep.

—

You couldn’t stop thinking about your time with Levi as you made your way through the main entrance of your work building, carrying some folders in one hand, and a cup of coffee in the other. It’s seven in the morning. You need some form of caffeine pumping in your veins if you’re going to function even remotely.

You step into the elevator, back against the wall as you wait for the doors to close.

“Good morning,” a familiar voice says, breaking the silence you reserved. The doors shut a few seconds after he enters the elevator.

“Oh, good morning, Levi,” sleep treads lightly on your voice. You restrain from taking another sip of coffee on the elevator to avoid him smelling your coffee breath.

“Don’t tell me you just woke up.” The elevator dings as you reach your floor.

“Would that disappoint you?” You ask, a playful smile on your face.

“Very much.” He lets you step off first, following behind you.

“Well, that’s too bad. Not everyone can wake up at three in the morning every day like you.” You chuckle, waving as you head into your office.

He peeks his head into your office just to take the final word from you.

“For the record, it’s two thirty, not three in the morning,” he says in a jokingly matter-of-fact way, before walking to his office next door.

You giggle as you set your stuff down onto your desk. Your joyous energy leaves when you load up the work you have to do on your computer. There are so many reports that need to be filed by the end of the day, and you’re actually scared that you might have to take your break later in order to make a dent in the workload. You sigh, sitting down in your office chair. You realize there’s no point in just sitting there and sulking, so you roll closer to the desk and begin typing and clicking away.

At around twelve you get an email from Erwin, the department manager that says:

Hello _____,

Today I will have to leave work a little earlier than usual, as I am meeting my in-laws for lunch with my wife. They flew a couple thousand miles to meet with me and my wife today and I will not be able to finish the work I have pending for today.

Would you do me the biggest favor and finish whatever I don’t get to by the time I leave? It would mean a lot.

Thank you,

Erwin Smith

You shut your eyes tightly and think about how easy it would be to run out of the building and drive home, but instead of doing so, you reply to Erwin’s email.

Hi Erwin,

Hope all is well with your wife and the in-laws.

No worries, you can leave the remainder of your unfinished work to me and I will get it done. I will have to take a later lunch than usual because I have a lot of work to get done as well, but you can definitely count on me to finish the job.

Best of luck,

_______

You felt like bashing your head on the keyboard, but nonetheless, you continued to work through your weariness.

—

“Hey, by any chance are you taking your lunch anytime soon?” Levi asks, leaning on the doorframe of your office.

“Nope. I have so much work to do, it’s hilarious.” You don’t even take the time to turn and face him.

“You don’t seem to be laughing. Is there anything I can help you with?” He stands behind your chair, looking at all the reports you had to finish by the end of the day. “Hey, aren’t those Erwin’s reports? Why the hell are you doing his work again?” He moves over, standing next to you so he can see the screen more clearly.

“He has this lunch to go to with his wife and her parents. It’s not like I was gonna leave work early today, anyway.” Your typing was flawless, almost robotic. No typos or extra spaces, not a capital letter or punctuation mark out of place. “It’s fine, Levi. Are you going on your break?”

“I was going to, but you’re still working like a maniac. I’ll just wait for you.”

“No, it’s okay. Go take your break. You must be exhausted. I’ll buy you a cup of tea later if you go on your break now.” Your eyes scan the large lettering as you speak like your sentences have been pre-recorded so that you can say them while you work.

“Fine. I’ll take my break in here.” He sits in one of the extra chairs in your room.

“But Levi, I need to focus.”

“I won’t say a word to you. I’m just sitting here.”

You give in and let him stay while you work, and he stays true to his word. Not a word is said during his break, but you can feel him staring at you, and it makes doing your work just a little harder. You make more mistakes in your typing, and you can hear him ‘tch’ every time he hears you tap the backspace key repeatedly.

When his break is up, he puts a hand on your head before he goes back to his office. The endearing gesture made surprise goosebumps rise on your arms.

—

You finished all the work you had to do in record time. Erwin’s work was your top priority so you finished it first, then you finished your work. You didn’t get to take a break, but you did get some overtime in. Hopefully, Erwin is okay with it.

You turn off the computer and grab all your possessions before leaving the office for the day. Levi is waiting for you around the corner.

“All done?” He asks when you shut the door to your office.

“Yeah. I’m tired as fuck.” You chuckle at his wide-eyed expression. “Sorry. I’m really tired is what I meant to say.”

“We’re both adults. You can mean what you say.” He offered to carry your bag as well as your folders, and you let him. “What do you need, right now?” He asks as you walk side by side to the elevator.

“Rest,” you reply instantly.

“Okay, let’s get you home.”

“Let’s?” You question.

“I’ll drive you home, and once you wake up i’ll drive you back here so you can get your car.”

“That’s not necessary. You really don’t have to, Levi,” you insist. You enter the elevator and Levi follows after you.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I really appreciate you. Thank you for your kindness.”

—

He brought you home, and you invited him in because you thought it was the polite thing to do after everything he’s done for you.

“You’re welcome to anything that’s in the cabinets or the fridge, or just take anything you like.”

Levi was in awe at how organized your cabinets were. The truth was that you had organized them the day before, before you went to sleep, because when you laid down to sleep, the guilt of lying to Levi was eating you alive. You told him you had things to do at your house, and yet you were just about ready to knock out on your bed.

“I’m okay, but thank you.” He goes back into the living room with you.

“Come hang out with me in my room?”

He looked like you asked him to steal the Mona Lisa—confused, conflicted, unsure if he would go that far even if you were the one asking.

“Okay,” he finally says a few seconds later.

He follows your lead as you direct yourself towards your room. As soon as you are within reach of your bed, you toss yourself on it, spreading your limbs like a starfish.

“You’re welcome to join me,” your words are muffled by the pillows.

“I don’t think there’s any room there for me,” he mumbles as he searches for a small area to sit, where he won’t interrupt your starfish pose.

“Sorry, let me just…” you reposition yourself. You’re now on your side, curled up. “You can lay there.” You point to space next to you.

Levi lays down on his side, facing you. He doesn’t know if this is overstepping boundaries with you, but it feels nice.

“I’m sorry I don’t have an extra room like you do.”

His eyebrows furrow, displeased with your apology.

“Don’t apologize for something so unimportant.”

“Are you uncomfortable? I can sit on a chair if you want-“

His hand lands on your shoulder, immediately silencing you.

“I’m fine. You don’t have to go anywhere. Let’s just lay here together.”

You blushed furiously at how romantic the words sounded. If you were smarter you wouldn’t have gone for the kiss and your relationship would have kept its romantic and sexual tension, but you couldn’t take it anymore. You, the one who avoided love at all costs, were the first to admit you wanted to love Levi.

His heart raced as if he ran every day of his life, just to meet you here, in this moment. He pulled you onto his lap, your position exactly like the night he invited you over, only this time you were in total control of your actions.

His hand on your hip, his fingers threaded in your hair—it was the proof that let you know he wanted this just as much as you. It may have been wrong to just spring this on him, but if it wasn’t a moment for now, then it would be a moment for later, which sounded like forever in your mind.

You pull away to see the reaction behind all of this. His heart is uncontrollable. He can’t calm it down, and he can barely hear his own thoughts with the way his heart beats in his ears.

“That’s how I feel. How do you feel?” You ask, staring into the storm residing in his grey eyes.

He leans forward to reach your lips, luring you back to him. His hands now hold your waist, occasionally squeezing to ground him when his soul threatens to vanish from being there with you. His lips chase yours endlessly, and you hate remembering that you need to breathe in order to stay alive, because you love the intimacy of kissing. It gives you uncontrollable butterflies that you refuse to tame because you continue to do the thing that sets them free.

This time he releases you, taking in the dazed expression on your face.

“That’s how I feel.”

You both stare at each other like a new world has been introduced, and you’re waiting for each other’s approval to go in together.

“I want you, Levi. Make me yours.” It’s your sugarcoated, romanticized way of saying ‘claim me because I don’t want anyone else to do it’.

“You want me to…” his ears go red. He’s scared to assume you want him sexually, so he waits for you to specify.

“Make love to me?” You say in the form of a question. You cringe internally, but you think it matches the moment better than saying ‘fuck me’.

“M-Make love to you?” He repeats, flustered by the request.

“Please,” you say with false confidence. You can tell he’s nervous, and you know you’re nervous, so you have to show him as much fake confidence as you can muster if you want to progress with him.

“Let’s take it slow. Nobody is leading, and we’re gonna roll with however things go.” You put your hand on his shoulder, an attempt to calm him. “Does that sound okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees.

“O-Okay?” Your veil of confidence collapses after your last statement, and you go back to being putty in Levi’s hold when he pulls you down onto the bed with him. There’s no way he’ll abide to your ‘nobody is leading’ statement. He’s a natural leader, and regardless of how nervous he is, he will take total responsibility for the way he makes you feel.

You still jump a little when his hands meet the warm skin of your cheeks and stay there, but nonetheless, you like it. The touch feels familiar even if he’s never touched you like this before.

He takes his hands off your face and begins unbuttoning his shirt. Little by little, you begin to see pale patches of skin from his chest and stomach. You nearly panic when the whole shirt comes off, and reveals toned parts of his torso. You strongly believe he was sculpted by some artistically driven gods.

You’re wonderstruck, and even if he doesn’t know it, he’s ruined men for you in a way only you can understand.

“I’m not that striking,” he says, a blush rising to his cheeks. You can now see that the color doesn’t start on his cheeks, but on his chest.

“I don’t even know what to say.” You’re smitten, and it was over for you the second his lips merged with yours. You played yourself by starting this, but there’s no way in hell you’ll go back to depriving yourself of him.

“Then don’t say anything.” He goes down to meet your lips again, his body feeling hot when you reach up to touch him. Physical affection is rare for Levi, and nobody has touched him like this in a long time, so deep down he’s really happy you’re the one he’s sharing a bed with. You don’t feel obligated to shed layers of clothing for him. He’s content with just having you, and though he would never admit it, knowing you had no words to describe the sight of him without a shirt was a major boost to his self confidence.

You reach down to untuck your shirt from your pants and begin unbuttoning it. Levi only noticed this because your hands weren’t running all over his body anymore, and he wanted you to keep touching him.

He almost chokes on his spit once your shirt is open, the loose halves laying next to each corresponding side of you. You picked the perfect day to match your lingerie. You donned a lacy black bra with panties that Levi had yet to see.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, scanning every inch of you that is now revealed.

“You think so?” Your cheeks glow like you’re surrounded by Christmas lights.

“I do,” the last words he says before he snatches your lips up again. Strands of his hair brush your face, tickling your nose and cheeks. You don’t think there should be a time limit for how long a make out session goes on for. It gives you an otherworldly feeling when Levi’s lips lock with yours. To say it’s electrifying would be a dulled down version of what you really feel.

The pace picks up suddenly, and your heart drops to your stomach. His hands hold your waist firmly, and your lips struggle to keep up with his. You don’t think you’re imagining the panting sounds coming from him as he kisses you with a fervor that can’t be pacified.

“Mmm…fuck,” he almost growls. “How are you able to make me feel this way?” He looks drunk on your affection.

You had an effect on him. The sweet, composed, professional Levi you knew as your best friend, was now bound to you.

He presses his nose to the column of your throat where he leaves so many kisses. His mouth ghosts over your chest, an occasional brush of his lips to your skin as he lowers down to your stomach. It’s such an intimate gesture filled with sincerity that does nothing but intensify the thrashing in your chest.

His hands wander, bringing goosebumps wherever they move. You see the way he looks at you—like he would devour you if this weren’t the first time he was bedding you. His eyes are so cold you think your gaze is frozen to his.

“Should I keep going?” His indirect way of asking for your consent again, even if you were the one who asked for this. You take the hint when you feel him tugging lightly at your pants. You respond by unbuttoning your trousers, shimmying them down your hips. He helps you get them completely off when they reach your thighs.

The black on black bra and panties combination… Something flipped in his head because for a few seconds his eyes just flicked up and down between the two areas. To capture this untainted sight of you for a few more seconds was all he wanted, because he knew that you wouldn’t look like this again for the rest of the night.

His hands roam around your body—running over your waist, then trailing down to your hips, which leads to them slithering down your thighs.

“Is that…” he points at the gusset of your panties, a darker spot contrasting the rest of the garment. It’s only noticeable because he’s so close. “Is that what I think it is?”

“U-Um…” you divert your attention from him. Your cheeks feel hot again.

“You’re so excited, yet we haven’t even done that much.” His hands splay on your thighs, spreading your legs as wide as you can comfortably have them. “Now I know what kissing does to you,” he says as he proceeds to kiss your inner thighs.

You inhale sharply, your stomach quivering a little.

“May I?” His hand nears your clothed cunt, centimeters away from the wet spot.

“Okay,” you simply say. Any more words and you’ll stutter up a storm.

Your heart might leap out of your chest with that gaze of his. His pupils are enormous, the lust almost blocking all the color in his eyes.

“I hope you don’t mind if I take it slow. I want to make you come once through your panties, and another time without them.”

Come? Panties? Another time without panties? It’s so strange hearing these words from someone who’s been just a friend for years. It’s strange hearing the words from Levi in general.

“O-Okay,” you stutter this time.

“Good.” His fingers finally make contact with the fabric of your panties, a circular motion stimulating your cunt. He can feel the wetness of your slick on his fingertips, the amount increasing with each pressurized rub.

Your arm comes up to cover your eyes, embarrassment flooding through you as Levi spectates you.

“Let me see your pretty face, please.” His voice is so commanding, you don’t think you can deny him of the things he asks of you.

Your forearm shakily raises off of your face, dropping down onto the mattress. He can now see the effectiveness of his fingers, on your expression. Your mouth is slightly open, your eyes begging for more from him. The whole thing makes the hardness in his pants twitch.

“Is this what you wanted?” He teases, knowing your words won’t beat the moans leaving your mouth.

“Mhm,” you whimper. “Please…please.”

“Didn’t think I would have you begging so fast.” He leans forward a little to whisper the second part in your ear. “That’s good, sweetheart. Keep doing it.”

You nearly lost it when he kissed the area below your ear right after.

“Levi… Levi, more please.” You can’t stand that look on his face as he continues to torture you. His teeth occasionally sink into his bottom lip. There’s so much lust behind the expression, that you’re actually nervous for what will happen to you after he makes you come the first time.

Your moans become more frequent, and you can feel that familiar heat in your core. You don’t remember ever touching yourself in a manner that made you feel this way, and he isn’t even touching your bare cunt.

“Oh, already?” He goes down your body, stopping at the elastic band of your panties and scattering kisses on the skin above it.

“Fucking—oh god—Levi,” you say, breathlessly. Your hands go to the back of his head and you tug his hair with unmeasured strength. He can handle the discomfort for as long as you provide it, and he won’t complain about something that makes his cock twitch. Your thighs shut around his hand, and you grind your cunt against it. It’s humiliating when he raises his gaze to watch you as you take control of your pleasure. At this point, you’re doing most of the movement, rolling your hips against the cupped form of his fingers.

“There you go,” he murmurs. He loves watching the way your chest heaves and hearing the cries of his name. The racing of your heartbeat is indomitable, you swear Levi can hear it over your breathing.

After a few minutes of catching your breath, you look down at Levi who’s mesmerized by the dazed look you give him.

“That was taking it slow?”

“Mhm. I didn’t know you were so sensitive.” His hand brushes your thigh in a comforting manner. It triggers goosebumps in the area which brings a sly grin to his face.

“Excuse me? Your pants have a little something on them. Now let’s talk sensitivity.” You raise your arms, stretching your taut muscles, a strained groan leaving you as your muscles were freed of their tension.

You didn’t catch the way his eyes sparkled when you bit back, but in that moment, he knew you could handle his snarky remarks at all times and put him in his place when necessary. That was definitely a turn on.

“Please tell me you’re ready to go again.”

You laugh through your nose.

“You want me?” You tease. A gear rotated in your head, and you suddenly remembered something from the night he cooked for you.

“Yes. So badly,” he says.

There’s a wicked grin on your face. You sit up, leveling yourself on the bed with him.

“How about you show me that patience of yours I was promised.”

His head visibly tilted in confusion. It was the cutest thing you had ever seen him do.

“Let’s switch positions. Lay here where I am, and i’ll take your spot.”

“Okay,” he says, seemingly understanding so far what you said. He crawls over to where you sat and lays down, and you sit in the spot he previously sat in.

“Care to explain what’s about to happen?” His head rests on his folded arms.

The act is so sudden, so quick that his arms fly out from underneath his head to hold onto your hips. You straddle his hips, your legs on either side.

“Uh… u-um… what are you doing?” He swallowed thickly, trying not to let the brush of your cunt against his crotch unravel him.

“I think you deserve be taken care of, too, Levi.” You unclip your bra, sliding the straps off your arms before throwing it to a corner in your room. Your breasts are definitely a sight for him, a sight he isn’t sure he can look at without your permission, so he holds eye contact with you.

You lean forward, covering his chest with kisses. You can see the way the area turns red upon contact with your lips, like your touch sets him on fire. Your lips maneuver around his upper body, trailing up from his chest to his neck and the curvature of his jawline. He almost freezes when he feels your breasts against his chest. You cup his cheeks, looking into his enamored eyes before kissing his lips.

“Do you think you can handle what i’m about to do?” You press your forehead to his, looking into those fascinating eyes of his.

“I think so.” His hands ride up and down your sides, nearly touching the sides of your breasts.

“Good boy.”

His brain felt fuzzy when you said the words. It’s something he’s never experienced before when hearing them. You seemed to have reinvented the meaning behind the words when you used them in this scenario.

There you went again, going down his body, kissing everywhere you could. You discovered areas where he was sensitive, such as his ribs and the area beneath his navel. He gasped or shuddered every time you licked or sucked the skin in those areas.

“May I?” You ask, hooking a finger around one of his belt loops.

“Do whatever you want to me.” His hands go down to assist you in unbuttoning his pants, lifting his hips just enough to lower them until you could pull them off. He sported some dark blue boxer briefs, his erect cock forming a very noticeable tent. You now saw the large spot of pre-cum that had ruined his pants, on the blue garment.

Your hand wraps around the silhouette of his cock, the wet fabric wrinkling as your hand moves up and down. You see the vein in his neck pop out and the way his stomach tenses. You don’t need vocal proof of the way he feels because you can see it, but he still gives it to you anyway, and it just brings that much more excitement to you.

His breath is shaky as you rub his tip with your thumb, the fabric of his undergarment absorbing every drop of his pre-cum.

“You’re really pretty, Levi. I know that probably doesn’t say much for you, but i’m looking at you right now, and…” you sigh, completely astonished by him. To see someone like Levi with his walls completely torn down was beautiful. He’s tough. Not with you, obviously, but things don’t get to him so easily. To think that you were able to get him in a vulnerable position like this… He must really like you.

“You know, I really like you,” your hand speeds up a little. “I’m gonna be honest with you…I lived an enormous lie for what felt like an eternity. I tried to see you as a friend for so long. So long. But, sir, you made it impossible, because you never treated me like a friend.”

He shudders, his cock twitching beneath your grasp. You lean down to kiss his clothed tip. His mouth gapes slightly, his eyebrows creasing the slightest bit when it slowly disappears into your mouth.

“F-Fuck. You’re kidding,” he mutters under his breath. Your eyes look wild. It seems like you’ll have to hold onto his soul for a few minutes, because he’s floating.

The shape of his tip is completely outlined now, your saliva darkening the fabric of his briefs. Even the slightest brush of your fingers against his length has him shaking.

“Give it to me, baby. You’ve got it,” you say, encouraging him to let loose. Your hand speeds up a little more, and before you know it, Levi lets out a whimper and some grunts as he leaves yet another damp spot on his briefs.

“F-Fuck—a-ah—oh my…” he sits up halfway before you push him back down. His eyes shut tightly and you can see the protruding shape of his ribs with every breath of his as you continue to jerk him into overstimulation.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you murmur, your hand stopping when you see him writhing.

You giggle, watching as he catches his breath.

“Was that okay? I know it would have been better if I had actually touched…it. I just wanted to do something similar to what you did.”

“Don’t worry,” he sighs heavily. “It was perfect.”

You blush, watching as he fulfills his task of fully sitting up. You can clearly see the layer of sweat on his skin now. It gives him an ethereal-like glow.

“Are we gonna actually, you know… today?” You ask when he doesn’t say anything. He just looked into your eyes for a few seconds.

“I’ll do anything you want me to do. Do you want to?”

It feels wrong to want more, but you do want more of him. You want to feel him close to you. Right up against you, meshing into your skin, or just pressed against you as close as possible.

“I want you so fucking badly,” you chuckle. It’s almost pathetic how much you want him.

He tucks a damp strand of hair behind your ear, softening the intensity of your gaze on him.

“You can have me, just sit on my lap.” His eyes look down at your breasts, watching the way they move when you breathe. You smile, holding in a laugh when he looks back at you with a flustered expression. “You can hold them if you want,” you position yourself between his legs, your back to his chest. “None of this…” you grab ahold of his hands and drag them down your body. “…is off limits. Touch as you please.”

He hums, content with having you so near. You release his hands, allowing them to roam freely. The first thing he does is roll the elastic band of your panties down. You lift yourself a little, allowing him to roll the garment below your thighs. You kick them off your legs, and wait for Levi to finish getting his briefs off. You turn around, immediately looking down. A quiet gasp escapes you before you quickly face straight ahead again. He’s big.

“Say the word, and we can get started,” He mumbles into your shoulder. One of his hands reaches for your breast, the other slides down to your cunt. He toys with your clit, rubbing it just the slightest bit with his middle finger. He lures a breathy moan out of you, your decision being made quickly after.

“O-Okay, okay,” you breathe.

“Ready now?” His voice goes deeper, making goosebumps rise on your skin.

“Mhm,” you hum, rising up just the slightest to settle onto his lap.

“Easy,” he murmurs, wrapping an arm around your waist. “W-Wait. Not so fast,” he groans, as his tip nudges through your folds, the cockhead sliding into your messy hole while you sink down as slowly as you can.

Your moans are synchronized once he’s in all the way. You can feel his warmth inside you, twitching, even with your idleness. He lays his forehead on your upper back, soft wisps of his hair tickling your skin. Soft, warm breaths make their way onto the tippy top of your spine.

“F-Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You lean back against him, your head on his shoulder. Your eyes shut tightly, your mouth gaped open once he starts moving beneath you.

“W-We’re friends, right?” You have an obvious amount of difficulty keeping your voice steady. Gasps, and random pauses litter your sentences every time Levi pushes in and out of you. His hands were cupped around your breasts, your nipples wedged between his index and middle fingers. Your heart dropped every time you remembered that he bought you coffee as a friend two days ago, and now he’s taking charge of you in your own bed.

“Sure. What’s on y-your—hah—your m-mind?” His lips attach to your shoulder, sucking an intense mark onto the clear patch of skin, like he’s trying to draw blood. You wince, your back arching a little.

“This is the only way you’ll picture me after today, isn’t it?” Your eyes roll as his lips brush over your shoulders and nape for areas to leave more marks on. You hear the quick breaths that leave his nose and the sound of his lips slipping against your bruised skin. It’s a good way of not answering the question that’s eating away at you.

“Would that be okay with you?” He finally whispers into your ear, a slight rasp in his voice.

“Oh, fucking hell, Levi,” your hands find his thighs, your nails sinking into the pale skin, leaving red lines as you draw your fingers in close like you’re fisting sheets. “I—mm…You— Fuck!” You cry out impatiently, unable to form a proper thought, completely flustered due to how fucking attractive that simple gesture was.

A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest. It’s like he’s taunting you.

“I’ve pictured you in so many different ways. This is definitely one of them, but not the only one,” he clarifies. A sweet kiss is pressed into the side of your neck. “You don’t have to worry about that ever. Understand?”

“Mhm…” you hum, lost in the way his cock prods so deeply inside you.

“Use your words, sweetheart. I don’t know what that response means,” he teases. One of his hands releases your breast, dropping down to play with your clit. You nearly fold in pleasure, leaning forward the smallest amount before Levi’s arm drapes over your chest, pinning your back to his chest. “I need you here with me. Now give me your words,” his finger rubs the tiny bud lightly, just enough to make you writhe in his lap from the pleasure.

“I—fuck—I understand, Levi. I understand,” you cry out, your eyes tearing up due to the way he holds you so close the edge. It’s not enough pressure, and he knows it, but he likes the tone in your voice, and he wants to hear it for just a tad bit longer.

“Do you now?” He hums, followed by a breathy ‘ah’.

“I do,” tears nearly flow out of your eyes. “Please, Levi. Need more of you,” you plead.

His pace doesn’t speed up, but his thrusts are stronger now. Your pussy flutters around him, the intensity of your arousal almost completely unbearable. His finger brushes your clit in a tedious manner. It has you trembling on top of him.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans. The clenching of your pussy has his cock in such a tight hold—so snug inside your velvety walls. You breathe heavily, unable to stay still on his lap anymore. You’re now chasing his thrusts, meeting them halfway to strengthen the pleasure derived from Levi.

“Fuck! Please, please, please! Please, Levi!” You gasp, heaving every time you inhale. The knot inside you is on the brink of snapping in one of the most concentrated ways you’ve ever felt. Levi was close, too. His cock pulsated with every one of his thrusts, and every time your pussy clenched, it just inched him closer to his end.

He succumbed to your cries of his name, your trembling form now shaking in rhythm with his powerful thrusts.

Choked sounds, breathy mutterings of each others names, whimpers, and cries of passion filled the room.

“Levi! Oh god, oh fuck!” The final words leave you before an overwhelming tidal wave of pleasure consumes your whole self. You’ve never felt pleasure from suffocation, but Levi was almost inhaling you from how close he was, and you didn’t want him to back off. His arms held your writhing, trembling frame tightly against him, while he whispered things into your ear.

His hips continued to roll just a little slower, just enough to bring him right to the edge. Drool coated your lips, threatening to slide down your chin. You could feel almost every part of him on you—his arms, his legs, his chest, his abs, his lips. Being trapped by him was endearing.

“Fuck… keep doing that. D-Do that again, please,” he moans, breathing against the shell of your ear. You clenched around him again, and audibly heard him go weak. His shuddered breaths and strangled groans were the sexiest things you had ever heard. He painted your walls white, the feeling so immense that he clawed at your chest, leaving red streaks on the clean area of your chest. He whimpered out so many sorry’s, not stopping the roll of his hips until the overstimulation was too much.

You stayed in that position for a while once he came down from his high. He held you tightly, his head laying on your back. His warm cheek rested on your spine as he looked at the closed door of your bedroom. The long silence was broken by the sound of you sighing.

“We’re friends, right?” You ask the same question from earlier. Maybe his answer will be different now that he’s not as distracted.

He did take a little longer to answer than before. “We’re not like them,” he finally mumbles against your skin.

“Like who?” You question.

“Like those stupid people that do the whole friends with benefits bit. Tell me we aren’t them.” His postures straightens, and he pulls you close again, not holding you too tight, just allowing you to lay on his chest.

“We’re not them. This was… a one time thing. Right?”

“I don’t like that.” He moves the hair away from your face and plants a kiss on your forehead.

Your eyes flutter shut, and a lazy grin appears on your lips.

“Let’s talk about this some other time. For now, we’re friends.” You break free of his hold and get off of him. You search for your clothes scattered across your room.

“I should probably get going. I really need to shower.” He picks his clothes off of the edge of the bed, putting everything back on.

“If only I had clothes you could wear. I would’ve loved to have you over for the night,” you say, feeling guilty once again for not being as hospitable as Levi. “I’m sor—”

“Don’t do that. Don’t apologize for dumb things like clothes, or the amount of rooms in your house.” He sits on the edge of the bed, slipping back into his trousers. “There’s always next time.”

‘This is a one time thing.’ Yeah, right.

“Well…” he exhales, running a hand through his damp, disheveled hair. “I’m gonna go. Thanks for…”

You suck in your lips, suppressing laughter at his inability to say what you both just did.

“Thanks for having me,” he finally manages to utter.

You simply nod in acknowledgment, a smile gracing your features.

“Get home safe, Levi.”

“I’ll call you.”

And call you he did. The phone call could’ve been shorter. A simple ‘I’m home. I’ll see you at work,’ would have sufficed, but it’s like he needed to have some sort of connection to you. He spent a good portion of the phone call asking about how you were feeling physically. He didn’t go any deeper than that, not wanting to put any pressure on whatever you and him were.

He did something spontaneous and didn’t know how to react as soon as it happened, so he hung up immediately. He said ‘Goodnight. Love you,’ the last two words so quiet that you didn’t even hear them through the thin layer of static on the line. And that’s why you were so confused when the dial tone sounded in your ear. You thought the call ended due to bad reception, and expected him to call back, but he didn’t.

—

The next day was no different from any other day. Levi greeted you on the elevator, and acted as he usually did. There was nothing strange in your relationship according to the way he acted, or the way he talked to you. It was like the day before never happened.

“See you at lunchtime?” He says, stopping at the entrance to your office.

“Sure,” you say, unpacking your things. “I’ll have time for you today.”

“Good. See you then.” He turns and leaves your sight, heading into his own office.

You power through your work, making as much time as you can for Levi. He never left your mind as you read all those emails mindlessly. You were a zombie, the feeling of his hands roaming your body was engraved into your memory. It made you zone out a lot, the memory rolling in your mind so vividly because it was literally yesterday.

Your heart begins to race, at the sound of him calling your name. So desperate and needy, so unlike the Levi you knew before.

“Hello? Are you there?” Levi says, tapping your shoulder. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Huh? Oh, Levi. What are you doing here?” You check the time on the corner of your computer screen. “Shit, it’s already two thirty.”

“Right. Lunchtime,” he says, focused on your blank expression.

“Okay, yeah. What do you want to do?”

Not much besides kiss you, hold you, and more.

“Are you hungry?” He sits in the chair behind you, folding his hands on the table.

“Not really. Are you?” You rotate your chair to face him. Those eyes are intimidating every time you look at them, now. His gaze feels more intimate.

“Not at all.”

“Any other suggestions?”

He swallows every ounce of fear he feels, and prepares himself mentally for how this conversation could end. He could lose you or he could gain more than just your friendship. He can’t gauge which direction he’s leaning towards because you’re both actively ignoring the things that occurred. The things that friends don’t do.

“Let’s talk.”

Your heart sinks to your stomach, your nerves on edge. You wanted this conversation to happen, and now that it’s happening, you want nothing more than to be swallowed by a black hole.

“Okay,” you respond, your hands awkwardly splaying on your thighs.

“Did we overstep any boundaries yesterday?”

You look to your left, the door wide open for your coworkers to see and hear your private conversation. You give Levi one more chance. Maybe he won’t go into detail.

“I didn’t think we would actually act on the sexual tension—”

“Okay, hold on.” You stand up and head towards the door, pushing it shut, and shutting the blinds. “We don’t need any more workplace drama. This is between just you and me,” you say, sighing as you sit down again.

“We’re friends is what you’ve been telling me, and i’m completely fine with that.” The truth hides behind those flimsy words. He would rather destroy his favorite teacup and throw away his entire cabinet of expensive tea than fully accept that you’ll never be more than a friend. “But how will we prevent this from happening again?”

“Easy,” you reply. “It won’t happen again. We hang out at work, and only hang out outside of work when there are others around.”

“That’s an immature way to fix our situation.” He wants all the time with you. No division with others. “We can control ourselves. We don’t need people around to prove that. That’s just…absurd.”

“It’s the best solution. We won’t be tempted to do anything we shouldn’t do. There won’t be any tension. It’ll all work out fine.” You look down at his hands, his knuckles are nearly white.

He chuckles. “God, there is so much tension between us. You can cut it with a fucking knife.”

“I don’t feel it,” you say, averting your gaze immediately.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He grabs onto the seat of your chair, rolling you closer to him. He decides you’re close enough when your knees are brushing his, a nudge with enough force would send his knee between your thighs and vice-versa.

“What are you doing, Levi?” You question, a perplexed look on your face.

“I’m only asking you to do one thing and it’s really simple.”

He leans in, little by little, not close enough to kiss you, but enough to make your heart race when he doesn’t stop until you can see his slate colored eyes up close.

“Keep your eyes on me.”

You do as told, and look straight into his eyes. The intensity makes your head spin. You feel so vulnerable and submissive. You look away for a second, and he clicks his tongue.

“Don’t look away from me,” he instructs. His eyes don’t waver at all. They keep their intensity, and look at you dead on. You’re pretty sure he can hear your heartbeat.

After a minute of silence and staring into his eyes, you made a decision. You didn’t think at all about what you were fighting for and went with what your heart longed for. You cupped his cheeks and crashed your lips onto his. They were as amazing as you remembered, even so, imperfect. It felt right, holding him like that. Your breathing was synchronized, the heavy pants coming from both of you bringing some color to your face.

You pull away looking into his eyes again. There was a major difference. His pupils were huge, and there was a tenderness to his expression. He’s so weak for you.

“Fuck,” he curses. He swipes his bottom lip a few times with his index finger.

“What was the point of that?” Your voice is filled with disappointment.

“It was a test. You failed horrendously.”

“You did that on purpose, Levi. You’re being unfair.” Your eyebrows crease with frustration. “You knew you would get me like that.”

“I thought you were more self-disciplined,” he teases.

“You kissed me back. You should have had the willpower to push me away,” your arms cross in annoyance.

“I didn’t want to.”

You sigh, trying so hard to be mad, but in all your faux anger, you crack a smile that eventually evolves into a giggle.

“We’re so bad at this.” You think quickly, trying to figure out what to say after. “I think the only way to fix something like this is for us to stay apart for a while,” is the only thing that came to mind. You really didn’t think before you spoke, and you didn’t mean it.

His entire demeanor changed. This was the worst idea you had ever come up with, and all he could do was hope you would take it back.

“What do you mean?” He asks, secretly buying time for you to change your mind.

“We can’t be friends right now. It’s not working out like it should.”

“No. We don’t need that. All that would do is make an awkward gap in our friendship. We’re fine, we can handle this like adults.”

You stand up in your chair. “Adults who are old enough to passionately fuck, and kiss, and look at each other with longing stares. Adults can handle things recklessly, too, you know.”

“Where are you going?” He watches you grab your coat, in search of your car keys. You find them, the jingling making them easier to locate when you patted your coat pocket.

“Out,” you respond, pushing your chair under your desk.

“Okay. I’ll be in my office.” He pushes his chair in, following you out the door. You can feel the shift in his mood based on the way he avoids looking at you.

You shut your eyes tightly for a second, silently cursing yourself for having a heart. You pull on the back of his collar, bringing him to a halt. He turns around to face you.

“Fucking hell, let’s go on a date, Levi.”

“What are you saying?” He says, looking around the office to see if anyone heard your announcement. “You’re giving me whiplash with your indecisiveness.”

“It’s now or never.” The ultimatum is weightless— it means nothing because you will forever hold a spot in your heart for Levi.

“Okay.” It was the simplest way to accept your proposal. If you had more time, he would’ve stuttered for you, but you were both on your lunch break.

You both walk to the elevator, hands next to each other, trying not to link. It was like a staticky zap every time you accidentally brushed fingers. Your hands quickly moved away from each other every time it happened. Once the doors shut, Levi pinned you to the back wall of the elevator, and kissed you with so much ardor that you could feel the heat radiating off of his cheeks. You went through that first date with him, nervous throughout the entire thing, but nothing made electricity course through you like that thirty second elevator ride.

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halehavetogosometime · 11 months

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Steddie (stranger things) omo shipping meme

This is a kink thing, folks, discussion ppl desperate to pee.

dldr

I love running through this series of questions when I’m all fired up on a “new” ship. I’m a multi shipper here as well, but I’ll start with these two yahoos, Steve and Eddie (some qs I approach as if Steddie are a couple in the future and living together, and some I stick more closely to canon for)

Who gets desperate because they didn’t want to get up from a video game/work/other activity

This is definitely more likely to be an Eddie move– hyperfocus can be a bitch, man. I can see him reading or especially working on a campaign or music and just putting it off or even not noticing until someone else, maybe Steve, sitting across the room, like, notices the quality of the bounce has changed and totally clocks it as Eddie-has-to-pee instead of the normal Eddie-finding-the-right-stimulation-threshold. Maybe Steve would pop over with a drink, or maybe he made himself a sandwich and did one for Eddie as well, so he intentionally interrupt Eddie’s focus which, like, normally he wouldn’t… but in a case like this he’d do it intentionally, “Hey babe, I made some for me, you want some too?” and Eddie jolts out of it, comes back to the world, accepts whatever Steve was giving him, and then Oh-So-Casually scoots rapidly towards the bathroom.

Can also see, like, Eddie hyperfocusing on a day when he’s home and Steve’s at work, only for Steve to come home and interrupt and Eddie to realize he’s Absolutely Desperate.

In neither case do I see him actually really wetting himself, not unless they play these games.

Now Steve… I can definitely see Steve specifically having had close calls or incidents related to sports? Like, many an athlete has many a time pissed themselves, or peed right off the field etc because they are SO well hydrated and sometimes it just is like that.

But then again, that’s “can’t” stop the activity more than it is “don’t want to”

Who insists they can hold it even when they can’t

Either. I can see Eddie more often being the one, like, not in tune with what his body is up to and getting into a tight spot and then doubling-down bluffing about it… but i can see either one of them getting, like, competitive about it, not willing to be the one who admits he’s gotta pee first… or imbibing substances that mess with his control… i especially can see Drunk!Former-Frat-type Steve forgetting that he broke the seal and not remembering he’s not gonna be able to hold it, etc, but trying to bluff his way through anyway

By the same token, can see high!eddie having nooooooo idea how bad hes gotta pee, really.

Who pees in a bottle because they didn’t want to leave their warm bed at night

Oh absolutely either one.

Steve maybe doesn’t do it as much, was less in the habit when he lived in his parent’s pristine house, or when the likelihood of having a girl over was high, wouldn’t want to miss something like that and have a potential partner find it…

And def after they are together, if one catches the other at it, he’s gonna give him good-natured shit about it, but yeah. No big deal.

Who doesn’t pay attention to their fluid intake

Steve, maybe, if he’s drinking alcohol (otherwise, he’s more likely to just Always Be well hydrated, less “not paying attention” and more “always shooting for hydrated, even if that means peeing a lot more”)… but Eddie probs more normally, vacillating wildly between over and under hydrated.

Who has the larger bladder

I can see arguments for either, steve has to pee a lot, but that’s cuz he’s usually well hydrated. Can see that either resulting in him Not holding as much, cuz always peeing, or holding plenty, just, there’s always plenty to hold…

And I can see Eddie with a monster bladder cuz he’s always putting it off, and therefore always holding… or the opposite, especially if he’s bad about, like, drinking water, and it usually drinking, like, coffee or other things that are stimulants/diuretics/bladder irritants.

Who is more likely to have a shy bladder

I think it could be fun to write either one that way… but of the two, probs more likely Eddie. He’s a more baseline-anxious type to begin with… and I think athletics to the degree Steve has participated are very likely to cure anyone of that– when you gotta, then you gotta, and you gotta take every opportunity, even when you’re packed in with a bunch of other athletes and there’s maybe not much privacy

Who will only use an appropriate facility

I don’t think either would care, really. Steve has definitely pissed in some “convenient” places during/after games, or in folks’ backyards during parties, but also i bet Eddie has pissed in the woods in particular many a time.

If we gave either one a shy bladder, that could be a component, but i don’t think it much is if we’re trying to be canon compliant.

More likely to have a holding kink

I want to say eddie, who i think is more likely to be kinkier in general/aware of his kinks.

But steve, between the athletics, the drinking at parties, the general competitiveness, and the fact that he definitely definitely has had a great deal MORE sex than eddie– it’s entirely possible, that if he had one he would also have figured it out.

Who challenges the other to a holding contest

Either. They’re competitive. Actually, maybe it’s a comment/dare/etx from Robin or one of the kids.

How would each react to having and accident

Lol depends on how sober they are and or if there are extenuating Upside down shenanigans.

I can see eddie being embarrassed/humiliated maybe? If it was, like, sober in company or while he was trying to be cool or smth. Like maybe if it was Steve catching him coming out of a hyperfocus sesh and he doesn’t make it, maybe then he’d be embarrassed, especially if they were dating and hadn’t been that long.

But if he’s in an altered state and/or really after all the shit they’ve been through, idk that he would care that much.

Similar for steve, like, if it were to happen somehow like on a date or smth, some situ where he was trying to be Cool Steve, maybe he’d b embarrassed about it. Maybe if it happened during sex, where he prides himself on always giving a Good Time… maybe then he’d be bothered… but otherwise, nah. Again, intense athletics + altered states + the upside freaking down, who gives a shit.

How would each react to the other being desperate/having an accident

I mean, with horniness in anything I write. But otherwise…

So if Eddie’s in the pickle, genuine stressed about whether he’s gonna make it/or in the aftermath, Steve’s gonna be good about it (in the later seasons, might have been a real Ass earlier). He’s gonna do his best to get Eddie wherever he’s got to go, or find him a bottle, or encourage him to piss on a tree or whatever, the fuck does anyone care about it. Clothes wash.

He might tease some, definitely if this is pre-established kinky game stuff for them, but he’s gonna do his best to make Eddie not feel bad/keep other folks from knowing, etc.

In the reverse situ, Eddie would definitely come out of the gate making fun, but he’d shift Very quickly into being genuinely helpful/trying to make Steve laugh about it (even if laughing isn’t exactly ideal, lol)

Who is more likely to wet because of anxiety/fear

Probs eddie. If steve was prone to that, it would have come up almost certainly when Robin mentioned it in the bathroom at Starcourt.

Plus eddie just reads as a nervier dude in general. Dunno how likely, but he’d def be more likely

Who is more likely to wet deliberately

Either if part of some kinky game, steve if during a fight or smth when he knows there’s no point devoting any more brainspace to it (like sometimes in athletics), Steve maybe also more generally (probs again in context of drinking etc) more when they are living at home, partly because he’s not gonna worry so much about ruining his clothes/shoes? Like, not that eddie wears real fancy stuff, but sometimes maybe he does, and especially steve has an empty house with built-in washer dryer and eddie Shares a small space with his uncle and likely does laundry elsewhere.

#omorashi #omo shipping meme #stranger things kink #steddie kink

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feral-fae-writes · 2 years

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Sierra Six / Courtland Gentry Headcanons || SFW

A/N: Recovering from COVID gave me too much time to think. These are in no particular order, either.

(tw: mentions of abuse; mentions of scars)

"... And I'll find my worth in more than open wounds."

Six loves, and I mean loves holding hands. In the sense that his love language is touch. This is supported by the movie, and no one can change my mind.

He started chewing gum as a way to both distract himself and/or focus his mind, situation dependent.

He's really shy about anything on the romantic side of things. Absolutely not used to it, given his line of work and his abusive past. He knows how he feels, but not how to verbalize it without it coming out as his usual sarcasm and wit.

He has a thing for shower sex, both because it being in the shower makes the situation not so strange, and because he has an easier time physically relaxing due to the heat.

Stealing this from La La Land, because I want to. He likes jazz.

He loves movies that are so bad, they're good. He also loves anything to do with mythology (duh) and will point out anything incorrect within a piece of media. He will not shut up about said incorrect thing until someone stops him.

He's not used to anyone touching his scars, so when his partner finally does, he can't help but tense up. Gradually, he gets used to it.

He's the bigger spoon, every time. Lowkey a romantic at heart.

He doesn't talk about his brother, or about his time in prison. (Hopefully we find out more about both.)

Contrary to his quip to Lloyd, he actually hates Skittles.

He is big on aftercare. This man will go full house-husband/male-wife if you let him, but there's a 51% chance he'll burn the eggs. If he does, he won't let anyone else eat them, and make his partner a fresh (unburnt) plate.

He's not used to staying in one place for too long, for obvious reasons, and is hypervigilant. Again, for obvious reasons. If there's a balcony to be on, he'll be there at 3 AM.

Has a mild distaste for coffee, and, really, any stimulant. I like to think he also dislikes depressants, for much the same reason. He doesn't like the idea of not having his wits about him, especially due to Claire.

Not super kinky, but will indulge in his partner's kinks. Definitely a dominant, when he lets that side of himself out, but not rough.

He loves massages.

He would adopt a dog and spoil it, if he and Claire weren't on the run. Probably a Border Collie.

Buys Claire a new vinyl whenever he can. Six burned all her loved songs on a CD, and plays it during their constant road trips. Updates it when she finds a song she likes. They duet. Six is, surprisingly, a baritone.

He hates the fact that Claire can't have a normal life, and wants to give her the best one he can. After all, she's his only family.

Keeps his promises, because he knows what it's like to stick your neck out for someone else, having been on both sides.

Doesn't realise he has puppy eyes. For all his criminally-hardened exterior, he's just a kid who was forced to grow up too fast because he did the right thing.

#courtland gentry #sierra six #the gray man 2022 #the gray man #i love this man #headcanons #headcanon post #mostly sfw

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taiyaki-translations · 24 days

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Autumn Cafeteria - Fall for All 4

Season: Autumn

Characters: Yuta, Koga, Tsukasa

Translator: taiyaki-translations

Proofreader: raspberrytls

Tsukasa: It’s getting late, so this should be the last one for today. Well, let's do our best ♪

Yuta: Y-Yeah...

Koga: Ugh…

Tsukasa: ? What’s the matter, you two?

Yuta: I’ve been ordering on the assumption that we’re café-hopping (1), but this is already the fifth one…

Koga: Yuta and I usually only get somethin' to drink…

How are ya orderin’ sweets every time? Is this what they mean when they say people have a separate stomach for dessert?

Tsukasa: T-That's...! I just thought that it would be best to try their ‘special products’ as part of our inspection.

You won’t know what it looks or tastes like unless you order it, after all…

...Uu. Did I eat too much? I'm sorry to have shown you this disgraceful side of me.

Koga: What are ya apologizin’ for? We ain’t angry, we’re actually impressed. Yuta and I ain’t big fans of sweets, ya see.

Yuta: Right, right. Actually, it’s been very helpful. We wouldn’t be able to judge how good the sweets taste.

Being able to eat lots of sweets is also a talent, isn’t it?

Tsukasa: Oogami-senpai, Yuta-kun… I am honored by your compliments.

Leave it to me. I, Tsukasa Suou, will eat on your behalf!

Koga: No, you don't need to get so worked up. You won’t be able to eat dinner at this rate.

Tsukasa: T-That's true. Then, in moderation…

Are there any seats available…? How about in that corner over there?

Yuta: Sure. The corner is cozy~

Koga: Here’s the menu... Hm, there are new sweets, huh?

Tsukasa: New Sweets... ♪

Yuta: Ahaha, your eyes are sparkling~ You really like sweets, dontcha?

Oogami-senpai, can I look at the menu with you?

Koga: This is called “White Rabbit Mont Blanc,” a soft rice cake cracker shaped like a rabbit’s ears. It says “In collaboration with Shino Hajime” here. So he’s working with ‘em?

Tsukasa: It's the winning entry in the Idea Contest. This café occasionally accepts suggestions from the public. These sweets are offered for a limited time only.

Yuta: Ooh, you know a lot, huh?

Tsukasa: Actually, I’ve been trying to submit something for a while now. But I always end up coming up with an Idea only to shelve it.

Koga: Hmm~... But you’ve got an idea, even if it's just a vague one.

How about we try servin' it at the café?

Tsukasa: Eh? You mean the Sweets I came up with?

Koga: Yeah. We’ve seen other places offer limited-time menu items— they make ya curious to know what they’re like so people are more likely to check them out, right?

If we have somethin’ like that, regulars and new customers will wanna try it, won’t they?

Tsukasa: I see… It’s a good idea to stimulate interest with limited time offers.

Will my idea match expectations, though? It’s just something I came up with on a whim…

Koga: It’s only at the idea stage and you’re already gripin’?

Once it gets approved and we brush it up, your sweets idea is gonna get released into the world, ya know? Think positive.

Yuta: If you're not sure, why don’t we try making it ourselves before discussing it with the owner?

Actually, there's a dessert I'd like to try making, too~

Koga: I thought you weren’t a fan of sweets?

Yuta: That’s actually the reason why. Aren’t we surrounded by people with sweet tooths?

As nice as it is to see them eat so happily, doesn’t it get a little boring that we can’t join in?

I’d like to make some desserts that aren’t too sweet, so that people who don't like too much sugar can also enjoy them...♪

Tsukasa: —Here, this is my concept of what the finished Sweet will look like ♪

Yuta: Ah~ It’s a parfait. Kinda reminds me of last year~ (2)

Tsukasa & Koga: Last year?

Tsukasa: …Ha!?

I-It's nothing. Yuta-kun, please don't say it.

Yuta: There's nothing to hide anymore, though? We all know you like sweets.

Mitsuru-kun invited the two of us to a coffee shop in the downtown area. The menu had a lot of options.

He couldn’t choose between the parfaits and didn’t want to regret not trying the ones he didn’t end up getting, so he said, “I’ll have one of each, from the top to the bottom of this page, please.”

Tsukasa: Ugh, this is embarrassing…

Koga: Hm. So there are people other than Adonis who can do something like that.

That guy also likes sweets. He already conquered all the sweets on the menu at a coffee shop downtown.

Yuta: Mitsuru-kun said that Otogari-senpai recommended the shop to him, so maybe it's the same one? It would be an amazing sight if Tsukasa-kun and Otogari-senpai went together.

Sweets on the table as far as the eye can see, their aroma filling up the entire restaurant~…

Koga: Ugh, I'm gettin' heartburn just thinkin' about it.

Yuta: Me too. Even though I said it myself, I feel a bit sick…

Koga: We're gettin' off track. Let's get back to makin' that "Red-headed Young Master's Parfait (name subject to change)".

Tsukasa: What kind of name is that... While the two of you were talking, I finished prepping the ingredients.

Yuta: All that’s left to do is arrange it like the finished concept. You’re very handy~

Tsukasa: Fufun. Making “Sweets” is a speciality of "Knights"…♪

Translation Notes: 1. Yuta says 梯子する which literally means “to do ladder”. It comes from hashigo-zake (はしご酒), ladder alcohol, which is the Japanese term for bar-hopping. Nowadays, 梯子する can be used for any kind of restaurant. You can read more about it here. 2. Referring to the story Fruits Parlor.

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#ensemble stars #enstars #enstars translation #tsukasa suou #yuta aoi #koga oogami #autumn cafeteria

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owl-with-a-pen · 1 year

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How do you think Nia’s powers work? Do they make her tired or drowsy when she uses them for long periods of time? Do they not work well when she doesn’t get enough sleep? And just to throw some Brainia in here what would be his reaction if her powers didn’t work as well because she hadn’t gotten much sleep?

Okay, so I'm going to use this ask as a bit of an excuse to explore some lore we got from the Flash so bear with me here.

I actually think that the drowsy aspect of Nia's powers is a natural part of her gift. From quite early on, we've seen Nia struggle to stay in control of her life while working with a very inconveniencing set of powers that can lead her to fall asleep at any moment. The Flash gives us more insight into this in that Nia learns that while she's discovered how to do a lot with her ability, she'd been blocking herself out of going any further by refusing to give up control to her powers. She was choosing to view the origin of the Dreamer power as a villain she had to defeat somehow because the alternative would mean giving up the control she'd been using to balance her powers with the normal every day. In that way, I agree that it's when Nia refuses to sleep that problems start occurring.

We see her forced into a dream at the start of the episode while she's at a coffee shop which again hints that she's been trying to stay awake - i.e tried to stay in control - but by doing that, she's not listening to what her dreams are trying to tell her. This has been a running problem for Nia since her initial introduction in Supergirl and although she does start listening to her dreams by the final season, she still can't let go of trying to stay in control of when her visions take over. She starts choosing when to go into vision states to search the future and in that way, claims her control, which she likely thinks means the same as growing in her power. But the beauty of Naltorian powers is in the unpredictable nature of them.

In the Flash, Nia learns to relinquish her control of the situation and that allows her to see far back into the history of her powers, all the way to the first Dreamer who she can now interact with and will act as her guide to teach her more about her powers. (Which is all very cool and I wish wish wish we could see more of.) I actually wonder if Nia's dependency on caffeine would go down now she's learning to give into her powers when they call out to her?

But yes, I do think that Nia being drowsy and giving her powers access would if anything show she's using them healthily. It's when she's very clearly using caffeine or other stimulants to stay awake that problems arise and her powers would likely grow more unstable the longer she tries to keep awake.

Brainy of course knows quite a lot about Naltorian powers from Nura and learns even more from Nia, so I imagine he knows the signs very well. Whenever Nia's crunching to get an article finished or gets stressed out with her powers and tries to avoid them, her dependency on coffee skyrockets and that's when Brainy normally steps in.

I think at times Nia only needs a gentle reminder that she has to rest, other times Brainy might need to pull out the offer of a massage or even just give her some space, but not long after that she'll finally fall into a doze. Sometimes she falls asleep right on Brainy's shoulder, but even if she doesn't he'll always make sure she's tucked up in a comfortable position before letting her rest soundly.

#supergirl #the flash #nia nal #brainiac 5 #brainia #my asks #not writing #anon #i'm so sorry anon if you haven't watched the episode but it gave me a lot of Thoughts

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mrs-dr-reid · 2 years

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My Personal Matt Murdock Headcanons

Part 1/?

(And yes. I have discussed a handful of these with my beloved moot @leossmoonn before)

Due to his enhanced senses, he knows the perfect time to flip a pancake, never burns anything, always makes the most perfect toast, and he always kills flies on the first try

As much as he pretends to hate it because it’s kinda blasphemous, one of his favorite songs is Take Me To Church by Hozier. He also really likes Devil’s Advocate by The Neighborhood and (don’t tell anybody) Paper Rings by Taylor Swift

He’s really good with kids. Like, unnaturally good. Like, you’ll walk into a room and see him regaling your nephews with stories of Battlin’ Jack Murdock, or all of your nieces doing their best to put his hair in ponytails or “forcing” him to sing Disney songs with them (and melting when he actually gets really into it)

The most chivalrous little shit on earth. Always opening doors for you, pulling your chair out for you when you go out to eat, helping you out of taxis, kissing the back of your hand, shit like that. Simply because he loves hearing the heat rush to your cheeks

He’s annoyingly good at hide and seek, at least from a seeking standpoint because of his super weirdness. He can’t hide worth a damn, because he’s almost six feet tall and not that flexible, so he ends up trying to hide behind the big plant in your living room and you can just barely see the tiniest bit of his fluffy hair peeking out over the top of it

He’s a complete pansy when it comes to spicy food or strong flavors. The only spicy things he can kind of handle are Hot Cheetos or Takis, and even after those he has to chug like half a gallon of milk

He’s surprisingly good with animals. Like, say you’re at a petting zoo for a younger relative’s birthday party. You’ll end up finding him in some obscure corner of the animal pen with a baby goat fast asleep in his arms. Or if you’re at a family member’s house for a holiday and they happen to have a dog or a cat, you can bet the second he sits down that animal is going to make themselves at home on his lap or around his shoulders. It’s even funnier if the dog that picks him as their dog bed is huge, like you just walk into the living room to find him being borderline smothered by a very self-satisfied fully grown Great Pyrenees

His favorite times of year are the beginning of spring when all the flowers and trees are blooming, and the holidays because of all the yummy baked treats you’re constantly making that make the whole apartment smell like a real deal bakery

He can’t bring himself to go within 50 feet of a Bath and Bodywork’s or a Yankee Candle because of all the competing robust aromas, so he’ll just tell you what candle or bath product he’d like, because he physically can’t go near either of those stores without getting a wicked headache

After a particularly rough night out on patrol, you’ll most likely find him on the couch cocooned inside a weighted blanket with his expensive noise cancelling headphones over his ears, because sometimes the only way he can get calm enough to meditate is if he can’t hear anything and he doesn’t have any outside stimulation

He loves audio books, especially the ones where the narrator uses different voices to distinguish what character is speaking. Knowing this, you buy him the Harry Potter audiobooks, and it’s safe to say they quickly become his favorite because Stephen Fry is the MVP of character voices

Because his senses are so refined, you, Foggy, and Karen come up with a game where you give him five of the same thing but from different places or brands (like four black coffees from four different coffee joints and one homemade or five pints of vanilla ice cream from five different brands) to see if he can tell the difference between them. Annoyingly enough, he can, and it pisses you guys off to no end

He memorizes the heartbeats and walking patterns of the people he cares about (aka you, Foggy, and Karen), so he can pick you guys out of a crowd of thousands and instantly tell when there’s something wrong be it your heart rate is slightly irregular, your walking pace is accelerated, or god forbid you have a slight limp

Much like Anakin Skywalker, he can’t really handle the texture of sand (of course you quote that one scene whenever he mentions it just to mess with him), so he’s not the biggest fan of the beach. Then one year for a vacation you take him to your relative’s condo in Coquina Beach, Florida, and the second he feels how soft the sand is, he changes his mind about beaches, and you two decide to try and find the beach with the softest sand in the world

He loves it when you wear his clothes, especially his old Columbia sweatshirts or tees. Once when he came home, you were wearing one of his white work button ups and no pants, and he just about lost his remaining five marbles

He unironically loves VeggieTales, especially the Silly Songs with Larry. You’ve caught him humming “Oh Where is My Hairbrush?” to himself while he’s getting ready for work too many times for it to be a coincidence

He has a really good singing voice, but he only ever busts it out at a karaoke bar after a few too many whiskeys, and yet he still sounds coherent when you drunkenly usher him onto the stage. Once he sang “Hold Me While You Wait” by Lewis Capaldi, and the entire female population within the bar (and a couple of dudes, tbh) basically melted into the floor, because he has no business having the voice of an angel when he’s drunk off his ass

He likes going to museums with you that specialize in your niche interests just to hear you infodump to him about the stuff you already know and the new stuff you learn while you’re there, because he loves listening to your voice in any context

#logan speaks #logan writes #logan has headcanons #matt murdock headcanons

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whiskeynwriting · 2 years

Note

🌹

Sending you love and hugs🥰

How about a sneak peak of me and @phnyx 's Nico series (; and as always, I'm sending you all the love and hugs right back 🥰♥️😘

Birds of a Feather - Chapter Three: Intruiged

Nico x Female Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) slight angst, slight praise kink, pining, peeping, snooping, alcohol consumption

“I’d like my clothes to be done today.”

“Okay,” you nod, turning around to face him. “I can do that, sir.” He smirks.

As you expected, he sits down in the living room while you work. He notices that you move with much more purpose now, as you’ve become quite accustomed to his home. You know where everything is, how things should be done.

What a perfect little doll, he thinks, pretty and smart, competent and reliable.

While you organize his things, cleaning the furniture and your surroundings, he thinks about your common interests. Your distaste for Shakespear and how he was far too underrated in his time, yet entirely overrated in modern day. How interesting you find Wassily Kandinsky’s work to be; you too find it incredibly stimulating. The way you both admire Villanelle poetry, regardless of its many rules.

Almost randomly, you exit the room. Nico had looked down briefly to light another cigarette, head lifting when he sees you move. You return quickly though, standing in front of him and offering a small, white coffee cup. Without saying a word, Nico leans forward to take it, looking down into the mug. It’s an Americano with foam added to the top, just how he likes it. Even though he’s drinking scotch, you figured he’d appreciate it.

“Gracias, muñeca.” he grins, fully taking the cup on its little dish. (Thank you, doll)

You nod, a happy grin on your face. When you return to your chores, you scan the cabinets holding his record cases. Flipping through a few of them, you end up pulling out one he’s repeated many times on end. You notice that he’ll repeat the same vinyl twice whenever he’s in a creative phase.

The water from the outside rain taps on the glass, light rumbles of thunder heard overhead. Nothing intense, but loud enough to be soothing. Nico turns his head, basking in the calm atmosphere as the music begins to play. Again, he admires you, and can finally admit to himself that he’s fascinated by you. When he discovered your interest in literature and music, something changed inside him. It was truly a turning point for him. Instead of seeing you as some out of touch twenty year old, he now sees you as someone he could actually be interested in. He’d always liked how you looked, but now he likes your mind, too.

In his own head, Nico already owns you. You’re his employee and by all means, his little girl. You do whatever he says, whenever he says it, and you do it with a smile on your face. And he knows it’s not just because he pays you to, you do far more than your job entails for you. Every time you see him, you smile. Every time you speak to him, you’re sweet. Every time he compliments you, you become outwardly flustered, and every time he winks, it nearly sweeps you off your feet. Your reactions to him are more than obvious. And he likes seeing how you react to him emotionally, seeing it as a game he can play with his own little doll. Because at the end of the day, he knows he can make you happy, he can make you sad, he can do whatever he wants. And you’ll always come back.

What’s the point of an imagination if he can’t use it when he wants? Although right now, he doesn’t have to use it too much.

“Should I get the top shelf today? I did it last week.” you ask, turning back to him. You’re too short to reach, and you have to get a step ladder whenever you dust the highest shelf. It’s quite the chore.

Nico ponders this, about to shrug it off when he remembers the small peak he got just a few moments ago. He saw your upper thighs when you leaned up to get a higher shelf, what would he be able to see with you up on that ladder?

“Yes.” he finally says, eyeing you while taking a sip of his scotch.

He sees your small pout even though you try to hide it. He finds that cute.

“After this, I think I’ll take a nap.” you inform him, now setting up the ladder once you've come back.

“Is the weather making you tired?”

“Yes,” you sigh, climbing up a few rungs. “Thunderstorms always make me sleepy.”

He wants to pay attention to what you’re saying, but right now, his body is leaning completely to the right, his mind on an entirely different plane. You’re reaching up, moving the duster back and forth as you clean. If he thought he was acting depraved the other day, it’s nothing compared to this.

His eyes widen when you reach forward enough for him to see under the backside of your skirt, and it takes everything in him to hold back his moan. Low and behold, you’re wearing the white cotton panties he found in your room that day. How innocent; he wants to strip you of them. He wonders, has anyone made you a woman yet?

You’re humming along to the record you’d changed, and now that you’re so high up, the ceiling fan billows the edges of your skirt out. The fabric is flowing and he wonders, how are you not aware that your panties are showing? Do you know? Do you like that he can see? In his head he answers yes to both, now shifting in his seat. Is the scotch getting to him? He never drinks throughout the day like this. You make him feel adventurous.

“Okay,” you say, snapping him away from his increasingly erotic thoughts. “I think I’ll take my break now.”

“Bueno.” he replies, giving you a small nod.

Once you put the ladder back in its place, you return to the living room to stand before him.

“Is there anything else you need from me, sir?”

Nico sighs, swirling the brown liquid languidly in his glass. He’s finished his Americano.

“Yes.” setting down his drink on the side table, he holds his dominant hand out to you.

Naturally, you step closer, placing your hand in his. And when you do, his fingers curl slightly around you, his thumb landing on the top of your hand to stroke you gently. He looks down, watching himself caress you before those warm eyes return to your own.

“Thank you,” he says calmly, slowly. “For everything you do.”

Of all the things Nico has said while you’ve stayed in his home, this is definitely a first. He’s never expressed gratitude for you, not like this. For so long, you felt as though you were a burden to him, like he didn’t really need you. But now that he’s saying this, it’s honestly huge for you. The smile growing on your face tells him everything he needs to know, and before he can stop himself, he’s lifting your hand to his lips. He kisses you hear, and you’ve now gone completely breathless.

“Rest, little one.”

As if you could do that after he kissed your hand. You’re so awe-struck by his appreciation and soft affection that you completely forget to do his laundry. So, on your way up to your room, you decide to finish the task before laying in bed.

He’s already caught you snooping, but for some reason, you feel compelled to do it again. Besides, this is different. You’re not just listening in on his classes, you're smelling his clothes in his goddamn closet. You can’t help it, they’re just so soft and they smell so good; just like him in his freshest moments. And every piece is expensive, too, all the way down to his ties and boxers. It’s the first time you've touched them, his undergarments, at least with these thoughts on your mind. These you didn’t smell, of course; that would be unprofessional! Though, you think you’re past that. By now, you’re observing him far past the point of what you would call professional.

You do your best to focus on the task at hand, but within the privacy of his walk-in wardrobe, you feel compelled to explore. He has everything in here, from shoes to scarves, swimsuits to vests. It’s easy to find a piece that’s become a favorite of yours, his signature black turtleneck. He has quite a few of them. Surely he wouldn’t notice if one of them went missing? No, no you can’t do that. It would be so wrong of you to do that. So then why do you take it?

Your heart is racing inside your ribcage when you finally decide to leave, closing the door to his wardrobe quietly. A quick glance around his room tells you that you don’t have enough time to look through anything more, and you honestly shouldn’t even if you could.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.” you repeat this simple mantra to yourself, holding his sweater behind your back as you make your great escape.

Tip-toeing down the hall to your room takes all but five seconds, but Nico hears you. He’s finished his scotch by now and contemplated going up to his study to read a new book, but when your noises cause him to look up, he decides he better check on you.

He comes up the stairs after you’ve closed your door, a few minutes after, actually. He decided to clean up after himself, putting his dishes in the sink so you don’t have to. By the time he makes it to the second floor, you’ve already changed into your comfy clothes and are snuggled up in bed. Your door is open, though, just barely cracked like it was that one night. He wonders, did you leave it that way? Is the doorknob broken?

Genuinely, he wonders if you’re okay. When he heard your quick footsteps, he found it odd. So, taking a page out of his own book, he steps closer to your door and looks in.

Your lights are off, your shades drawn, and under the ruffled pile of covers appears to be one small, tired ball of you. Just barely, your head peaks out above the covers, your eyes closed as you sleep.

She looks adorable.

It makes him smile, seeing you like this; he’s never seen you like this. You look so soft and sleepy, so peaceful while you dream. Suddenly though, you move, shifting ever so lightly. Your movement makes him jump, eyes widening in fear of your own opening to see him standing there. But you don’t open your eyes, you just sigh, cuddling up to something you’re holding tightly in your small arms. It stands out to him now, the edges of the dark fabric sliding out from under the covers. He recognizes the fabric and squints, wondering where he’s seen it from. And then, his eyes widen again.

That’s… there’s no way. There’s no way that’s mine.

As quickly and quietly as he can, he closes your door, taking in a deep breath. The fact that you’re cuddling his sweater while you sleep makes him feel something deep inside, an overwhelming emotion that makes his chest tense and his hands sweat. Sure, he’s become a little flirty, but has he really led you so far as to do this? You’re sweet with him, yes, but to be truly interested? That has not crossed his mind. But why else would you be sleeping with a piece of his clothing? Cuddling it in your arms, right by your face as it lays over your pillow. Maybe this has gone farther than he thought it would ever go; you fawn over him daily, but even behind closed doors, you’re falling for him. He identifies his first emotion as fear, he’s afraid of this. What will this lead to? The other part of him is comforted, knowing that you reciprocate his feelings, even if you aren’t aware that he now knows it.

How cute, he finally decides, letting the happier part of him win. I’ll let her keep it.

#send me a rose #and I'll answer with a wip #birds of a feather #birds of a feather series #nico #house comes with a bird #house comes with a bird fanfiction #pedro pascal

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cherrypieships · 1 year

Text

i think he knows

A/N: for the prompt 'first kiss' with Steve. slight tw for alcohol and underage drinking!

Ship: Steve x Mel (s/i)

Summary: It's not that she isn't happy to see him, really she is. It's just that Steve, handsome and funny and compassionate as he is, can be a little distracting.

The fan propped up on the counter is the only thing keeping Melody alive right now.

It’s officially summer in Hawkins, and while she usually adores the season, the heat in Rush Records is so sweltering that she’s almost ready for school to start up again. While pretty much every other aspect of being in senior year would suck, she’d welcome a cool autumn breeze with open arms. Plus it’d give her something to do.

The store is abandoned today, as it’s the first weekend of the community pool being open. Charlie and Piper had asked if she’d be joining them poolside, but she’d picked up an extra shift at her manager’s request. So she’s stuck flipping through a copy of Rolling Stone with her face shoved in front of the rickety old fan she hauled in from her garage.

The bell above the door sings a little ditty as someone enters. “Hey, how’s it going?” She calls, not even looking up from the Cyndi Lauper interview she’s enamored with. Not that she’s super into Cyndi Lauper’s music, but the girl’s got spunk that she has to admire. Writing a song about masturbating and getting a Rolling Stone interview out of it was pretty punk shit.

“You greet all your favorite customers so warmly?”

Mel’s head snaps up, attention officially caught. Standing in the doorway, a shit eating grin on his face, is Steve Harrington. “Oh, it’s you,” she remarks, softer than she means it to come out.

He strides over to the register, sets a coffee down in front of her. “What, I can’t visit my best friend at work?”

“I’m your only friend and you know it.”

“My best girl, then,” he amends, then pauses as he thinks about what she’s said. “And that’s not true, Nancy and Jonathan are my friends.”

She rolls her eyes affectionately. “You barely talk to them, weirdo.” Finally faced with something more stimulating, she flips the magazine closed and straightens, pulling her shirt down where it’s rode up over her stomach.

Steve leans against the counter, making himself right at home in her workplace. Then he grins at her, that wide, wolfish grin that has her chest feeling light and airy. “Why would I need to talk to anyone else when I have you?” He purrs, equal parts charming and annoying.

“What are you doing here?” Mel asks. It’s not that she isn’t happy to see him, really she is. It’s just that Steve, handsome and funny and compassionate as he is, can be a little distracting. She doesn’t mind it most of the time, when they’re at the roller rink and he keeps trying to teach her how to spin, or at the diner down the street where he’ll toss fry after fry at her face trying to land one in her mouth. She welcomes him usually, in all his silly, boyish glory. But it’s different when she’s at work.

Steve shrugs, pushing the coffee he’d brought further towards her. “Thought you might want some caffeine.” Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knows she shouldn’t be surprised by this. He has a penchant for dropping things off to her when they can’t hang out. Coffee, books, food, her lyric journal. She has a suspicion that all these gestures are inklings of his loneliness, but that’s something she’ll never tell.

She picks up the cup, turns it around in her palm. “Steve, you didn’t have to do that,” she says, then, “thank you, though.”

He blows a raspberry. “The coffee shop was on the way. Hope they put enough cream in, I know you like it light.” A hand runs through his hair, shining golden brown in the lights of the store.

Melody takes a sip, the rush of roasty sweetness splattering across her tongue as she does. It’s perfect, unfortunately. “I actually did need a pick-me-up,” she says. “You didn’t get one for yourself?”

He shifts on his feet. “I didn’t really want one.” He admits, a hand reaching out to fiddle with the cord of the fan where it’s plugged into the wall, the twisted wire evidently a source of displeasure for him. Or maybe a distraction.

Her fingers find the magazine, shove it across the counter at him. “You gonna hang around?” She asks, hope lacing the corners of her words. Fuck it. Rush wasn’t here, on pre-summer vacation with his wife and baby boy, and she was the only employee here until her shift ended in two hours. Who was gonna tell her to get back to work?

Steve grins, his big almond eyes sparkling. “Can I?”

She shrugs, trying her hardest to maintain an air of nonchalance. “Sure, I don’t care,” she lies. She wants him to stay so she can keep looking at him.

He taps a hand against the counter, straightens with a big crooked smile, a look in his eyes that says he knows she doesn’t mean it. “Show me the newcomers,” he demands, and shucks off the gray-blue windbreaker he’s donning- revealing a beautiful stretch of golden skin over toned arms. He’s wearing the cutest, dumbest sage-colored polo, the collar a stark white that she wants to tug on.

Mel rolls her eyes, pulls the bins out from below the front register that house the new arrivals, fresh off the truck this morning. She’s yet to put them away, opting to save them for the last hour to make it look like she’d been working when the closer comes in later. “I dunno how much of it’s your taste, honestly. Bunch of metal, some Neil Diamond… I think we got that new Bob Marley compilation album.” Her fingers dance across the hard plastic spines of the new cassettes, catching when she spots a blackened one with Violent Femmes written in thin writing. “Oh, shit, I didn’t even see these.”

Steve digs a big hand into the bin, fishes out an eyesore of a tape with a scoff. “What do you mean, not my taste? You got the good shit right here.” He flicks the cover to make his point, then shakes his hand out when he realizes how hard the plastic casing is. He’s so cute she could punch him.

She stares pointedly at the album he’s holding. “Big Bananarama fan, are you?”

He visibly bites back a giggle. “Absolutely.” She can’t tell if he’s kidding, but she can tell from the next heave of his chest he’s about to start singing.

“Oh, please no-”

“It’s a cruel, cruel, cruel summer,” he croons, “Leaving me here on my own.” His shoulders rise and fall as he makes up a little dance.

Mel puts her hands over her ears, tugs her face up into a forced grimace.

Steve doesn’t relent, instead grabbing the stapler beside the register and turning it into a makeshift microphone. “It’s a cruel- it’s a cruel, cruel summer, now you’re gone,” he looks at her deeply, eyebrows twisted into an expression of profound longing. “You’re not the only one!” Ever the performer, he launches into a series of scat sounds that are probably meant to represent the instrumentals.

She swats at him. “You’re horrible. Evil.” He has such a gorgeous voice, even playing pretend.

He cackles, sets his microphone-stapler back down and finally gives in. “You should be thankful, you know. Girls all over Hawkins would pay big money to hear this beautiful voice and you’re getting it for free.”

It’s funny, his ego, so big and so small at the same time. He switches like railroad tracks between braggadocio and self-loathing. Sometimes it’s all wrapped up in one sentence. There are no girls licking at his heels right now, at least not that she’s seen. But there were, and he knows it. And she can’t tell if he’s being boastful or bitter. “Okay hotshot, do you see any tapes you like or should I put them away?” She says instead of voicing this.

The boy puffs his cheeks up as he thinks, then grabs a tape and turns it over with careful hands. “Jonathan said I’d probably like The Cure, what do you think?” He stares down at her.

She shrugs, takes the tape from his warm fingers. “Maybe. It seems a little um, sad? For you, I think. Too introspective, you know?” She glances up at him, where his eyes are squinting, visibly confused. “Uh, he sings about like, his depression a lot. Mental stuff.”

Steve hums. “What do you recommend, then?”

Her heart leaps in her chest. She rifles through the cassette bin for a moment, pulls out another tape and shows it to him. “I think you’d like The Bangles. Pop with a little punk-rock edge, I’d say. Oh, and,” she grabs another tape, this one a bright colorblock mess. “Try The Go-Gos. They did that song a couple years ago, We Got the Beat? They’re pretty good.”

The way he looks down at her, with his sweet brown eyes and petal pink lips, makes her self-conscious for a moment. But he takes the albums, sets them down on the counter next to the register like he didn’t even need her explanation, he would have taken them anyway. “What else you got? Wheeler asked me to grab her something good.” He moves a step to his right, looks into the bin of vinyls now.

They spend a good hour like that, until she’s perched on top of the counter sipping contentedly at a lukewarm coffee while he flips through the pictures inside of an older Fleetwood Mac vinyl he’s grabbed off the Best-Sellers shelf. “What time does your shift end?” He asks, not looking up at her.

“Four-ish.”

Steve places the vinyl back on the shelf, moves down to the rock section. “Are you busy tonight?” He pulls up one of her old favorites, and she kicks away the urge to say so. “My dad opened the pool and they’re out in Indianapolis for a few nights. Should be quiet if you want to hang out.”

She thinks for a moment. On one hand, she knows she’ll be dead tired after work- getting up at 7 o’clock this morning and surviving off a lunch sandwich and a coffee is going to catch up with her soon. On the other hand, Steve Harrington in swim trunks. “Sure,” she says, and while she hopes it’s nonchalant, it’s hard to hide her feelings with him. “I have to stop at my house to get my bathing suit though.”

He grins. “I mean we could always skinny dip-” she whacks his shoulder. “Ow, relax, I’m fucking with you.” His fingers go for the hem of his polo shirt, tugging the collar away from his skin.

“Do you want me to bring anything?” She thinks of potato chips, bottles of cola, phone calls to her dealer for a fresh supply.

Steve waves them all off. “Just yourself is fine. I have food and sodas and stuff. Unless you’re craving something specific.” He says.

Mel’s lips twist, and she shrugs. “I don’t think so. Maybe I can sneak a bottle of wine?”

He slaps a hand against the countertop, joy and mischief breaking over his face like an ocean wave. “There we go, perfect.”

The doorbell chimes for maybe the fourth time all day, and Mel has to literally tear her eyes away from his mouth to see Tiffany walking in the door, her hair perfectly teased and silver bracelets clinking as she hauls her purse higher over her shoulder. She blows a bubble of pink gum between glossed lips and shoots the pair a grin. “Hey Mel,” she says, making a beeline for the back room.

Melody grabs Steve’s wrist, turning it toward her to see the face. “Jeez, Tiff, forty-five minutes early is a new record for you,” she calls, fingers lingering at the edge of the watch strap where his skin is warm. She can smell his cologne this close, powdery and musky and mixed with a strong soap that lingers on him. When she straightens, he’s looking down at her, face blank.

Mel can hear the thud of Tiffany’s bag hitting the counter as she sets it down. “I want that overtime!” She yells back. When she rounds the corner, she’s still smiling, though her eyes are more focused on Steve now instead of her coworker. “Hi Steve. God, has it been like this all day?”

“Kinda, yeah,” Mel affirms. “There’ve been like three customers total. Literally everyone is down at the pool.” The first person had been a woman picking up Muppet Babies on cassette for her kid, the second an older man who bought a Bing Crosby vinyl and said almost nothing to her. The third was Steve, who has still yet to buy anything and is more nuisance than customer.

Tiffany wraps a finger in a puffy blonde curl that lingers by the nape of her neck and rolls her big gray eyes. “Why are we even open? Rush knows the place is gonna be, like, completely abandoned.” She turns then, sets her sights on Steve with a wide white smile. “I mean, except for you, apparently.”

Steve leans back, elbow braced on the counter that Melody still sits on, and she braces for the suave comeback he’ll gift her coworker. “Had to bring this one her caffeine fix,” he says instead, nudging Mel’s thigh. “And you need to ring me out.”

She does just that, filling Tiffany in on the chores she’d completed and the ones she hadn’t as she bags Steve’s purchases up for him, slides them across the counter in exchange for the twenty he crumples into her palm. “And I finished the new arrival cassettes, but the vinyls still have to be shelved, so if you don’t mind helping me with-”

“Oh my god,” Tiffany laughs. “No way, you’re not staying. It’s so dead, Mel, go home. Enjoy the sun or something.”

Steve nods, pointing to the blonde in agreement. “Yeah, Mel, enjoy the sun or something,” he teases. The idiot would do anything to get her out of working.

The plastic bag in her hand crinkles sharply as she shoves it at him. “You sure? I can stay and help if you just want, like, an extra set of hands,” she offers, legs already itching to walk out the door.

Tiffany, sweet as she is, tears her gaze from Steve’s naked arms to respond. “I think I can deal. Go have fun.”

She does, piling into Steve’s passenger seat with another round of thank-yous aimed at her coworker. They make a pitstop at Mel’s house, with her making quick work of changing into her bathing suit and sliding a black sundress over it, and Steve making quick work of finding her parents wine collection and sneaking an older bottle that’s half-empty and collecting dust- an expert choice of something that won’t be missed. Mel clomps down the stairs in strappy sandals and slides a pair of sunglasses onto her face. “Ready when you are,” she announces.

Steve turns away from where he’s staring at family pictures stuck to the fridge with letter magnets. They’re old ones, pictures from her life back in Chicago before they’d even met. The magnets are even older, bought from a general store when her mom still thought they’d be having a third kid running around. He glances down to her exposed legs, quick enough that she almost misses it, and then nods. “Let’s kick it.”

___

Mel slides her legs into the pool, watching as Steve flips over and starts doing an impressively smooth backstroke. Her wine glass is still halfway full, his empty by her side. Despite it being well past five o’clock, the sun is still glaring down on them, baking her skin and illuminating the crystalline pool water. She takes another sip of the wine before it starts getting too warm to drink.

Honestly, the wine isn’t even that good. It’s a red, which she guesses is why it’s so bitter, and the taste cloys in the back of her throat, like bad fruit. But it smells delicious, and she feels elegant drinking it, and her body is starting to feel a little lighter, so maybe it’s worth it. She takes another swig, grimaces at the taste again, and sets the glass down.

“Wow, you really don’t like that stuff, huh?” Steve observes from the deep end. He’s squinting at her to keep the glare of the sun out of his eyes.

Mel raises a hand, tilts it back and forth in a so-so motion. “It’s not bad. Also not good.” She adjusts the sunglasses on her face as the sweat on her nose guides them down. Thank god for sunglasses, she thinks, watching shamelessly as he swims over, shoulders flexing under the water and summer sun.

Once Steve makes his way over, he lifts himself up onto his arms on the pool ledge, face tilted up to look at hers. He makes full eye contact as he picks up her wine glass and takes a deep sip. She would be mad if the stuff wasn’t so gross. “You don’t have to keep drinking it, you know. I can finish it for you if you want,” he says. His eyes are honey-brown and glossy.

She shrugs, kicking her feet out in tandem. “No, I’ll finish it. Definitely gonna be my last glass, though.”

Steve sets her wine glass down on the ledge. “Are you coming in or are you just gonna sit on the edge like a loser?” he asks next.

“Why, you wanna play mermaids?”

“How do you play mermaids?”

Mel tries to scoff, but it dissolves into a laugh halfway through. She can’t help it, he’s so earnest as he says it. “There’s no like, rules, Stevie, you just pick a tail color and be a mermaid.” She tilts her head then, thinking. “You have this huge pool and you’ve never played mermaids in it?” Logically, she knows he’s a boy and his parents probably wouldn’t have encouraged him playing something as soft and feminine. But the wine is blurring her thoughts just enough that in her head it seems like a crime to go your whole life without playing mermaids.

A laugh racks his shoulders, and he hangs his head. “We got this pool put in when I was 14. At that point the only games Tommy and I were playing in here were ‘who can kick the other in the balls the hardest’ and trying to drown each other.”

Mel slides down off the ledge and into the pool with a cool splash. Her elbow glances off his shoulder on the way down, and he reaches out to steady her. “That’s so fucked up,” she says, taking her sunglasses off to set them down beside her drink. “Like, I’m sad for you. You deserve to be a beautiful mermaid,” she giggles, pushing the wet hair that’s flopping over out of his eyes. They glow like warm pools of honey in the sunshine. Summer is his season, she thinks; the way the chlorine fits him like clothing and the scent of sun tan lotion suits him better than most colognes.

The pink on his cheeks is no sunburn then. “Okay. Well, I call dibs on a green tail. And a pet dolphin,” he says, starting to float on his back away from her.

She drifts after him, humming. The water feels cool and soothing as it kisses her bare shoulders, but her stomach is still covered in goosebumps from the temperature change. “Okay. But I get a purple tail and a crown of shells.”

Steve glances over at her. “Are you the mer-princess?”

“Sure,” she smiles.

He nods, visibly swallowing a laugh. “And I can be the stableboy who watches after the seahorses.”

“The seahorses, yeah.”

There’s a second of silence, barely even a pause for Steve to take a breath, and they’re dissolving into a joint fit of laughter. She watches him through heaving breaths, the way the tension melts like snowcones from his neck and freckled shoulders. His mouth is full of saltwater pearls that glint in the light. He’s so pretty it’s stupid. It’s making her stupid.

He’s always been pretty, though. It’s not a revelation. The wheel hasn’t been reinvented. She thinks, distantly, that it would do her good to quit acting like she’s the only one who’s ever noticed how wonderful he is- empathetic to a fault and warm like sunlight and pretty like a sunshower.

Instead of staring any longer, she swims her way over toward the deep end, where Steve had tossed a matching set of pool noodles, and grabs the pink one. “You know you saved my life inviting me over today,” she says.

He squints at her again. “What do you mean?”

“I was literally cooking alive at work,” she says to the clouds. “If you weren’t there I would still be sweating my balls off.”

“Your balls.”

Mel nods. “My balls!” While he laughs, she grabs one end of the pool noodle and submerges it, feeling as it fills up with water. “I’m serious, Tiff’s nice but she never lets me go that early. If you weren’t there I probably would have just stayed ‘til four,” she admits, only feeling a little bad about her devious plan to douse him in pool water.

“What does me being there have to do with that?” He asks, the idiot. “Seemed dead enough she would’ve let you go anyway.”

She squints, trying to decipher if he truly hadn’t read the situation the way she had. If he was so focused on the prospect of getting to spend the day with her that he’d ignored the glances, the soft lilt of her coworker’s voice. “Um, because Tiff has a huge crush on you? She was trying to look cool and like, laid-back in front of you,” she explains, pool-noodle-cannon forgotten.

“What?” He shakes wet hair from his forehead, exposing row after row of fawny freckles, little spaces where the sun has kissed him a second too long. “You don’t know that,” he counters.

Mel balks at the assertion. “Oh my god, Steve, yes I do,” she laughs. “She had the most in-love face I’ve ever seen. I’m honestly shocked you didn’t catch it.”

“You’re jealous,” he says, face blank. There’s no teasing, no accusation. He states it firmly, the way he’d say the sky was blue and the sun was hot.

She scoffs at first. “I am not jealous,” she wades closer to him, squints in the sunlight to see his face. “First of all, Tiff isn’t even my type, and second-”

“No, you’re jealous that another girl was giving me attention,” he takes the pool noodle from her hands, disarming her. “It’s kinda cute, actually.”

Instead of fighting against him, she lets her hands idle weaponless by her sides. She doesn’t say anything for a good few seconds, just watches him float closer and closer, her brain feeling oddly like a melted snowcone, all the sugar and lemon ice dripping out her eyes and ears. “What?” Is all she can muster when her thoughts slam back into her body.

Steve’s hands come gently to her elbows. “You’re talking about in-love faces like you aren’t making them at me,” he lilts.

Blood rushes to her face. “You’re being mean.”

Just like that, his face softens. “I’m not being mean, Mel, I’m just tired of playing pretend,” he admits, and wades back, a hair more space between them. The distance is suffocating her. “I didn’t notice she was flirting with me, honest. Was too busy looking at you.” He tugs at one of the longer curls that frame her bangs.

The syrupy thing in Mel’s chest starts hammering out a rhythm. Yeah, maybe in her subconscious she knew he had a thing for her. Lingering kisses on cheeks and oft-settled lunch tabs were the tip of the iceberg. The fact that he saw through her, though, was what had shocked her. A cool façade years in the making torn down in a few sentences by a boy who had once asked her how to spell earring. He’d seen the cracks and found his way to her interior at the first chance.

Or maybe he wasn’t some huge mastermind, and she was shit at keeping secrets from him.

“You called me cute,” she notes. She allows herself the wine-fueled pleasure of touching his arms. His skin is cool from the water, and yet her touch is what makes goosebumps break over it.

He smiles. “You are cute.”

And then he’s leaning down, brown eyes entirely too focused on her mouth. It’s innocent in the most soul-crushing way; a slide of his top lip down her own, slow and deliberate, encircled by a warm embrace and controlled by a hand that cradles her jaw. He’s sweet and honey-tasting, like wine, like snowcones, like summer, and she breathes deep, inhaling it all. It goes straight to her head. She’s not used to being loved so softly.

When he breaks away, it’s not far, just enough that she can feel his breath fan warm over her cupid’s bow. He comes back again, mouthing at the seam of her lips until she blooms for him, accepting the sweet slide of his tongue like communion. He ends it with a kiss to her nose. It makes wings flutter in her stomach. “Do you want to maybe go inside?” he asks, half sheepish and half suave and all Steve.

She pulls out of his grasp, stretches out to float on her back. “Later,” she promises, and a shiver runs through her. “The day’s still young, babe, let’s play mermaids.”

#my fic #drop a like/rb if you read! 💖☁️💫#this was really fun to write but oh my god i had to edit that steve pic like 8 times cuz the show is so goddamn dark hjfhsdjf #steve #self ship #self insert

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