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fairlylino · 2 years

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OVER THE EDGE — hwang hj.

genre: smut

warnings: edging, tying up, nsfw, recording (photo), jerking off etc

note: ive been gone for too long and have so many drafts, but i wrote this one bc i couldnt stop thinking ab this bye.

also: requests are open id love to hear your ideas!

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As in every November, the boys like to compete against each other. Be it with any bets, there's always someone who takes it very seriously, so the boys dont ever dare to give up.

Some of them dont take it serious, some think its childish. But not with this challenge. Even though its the most childish bet, its the one the boys take the most serious.

No Nut November.

And you hated them for taking it that serious that Hyunjin always distanced himself from you, distracting him with dancing and practice, coming home late etc.

Because he knew how weak he gets the more time he spends with you.

Its the middle of the 11th month and you're starting to get irritated. You even texted Han and Changbin to just lose on purpose, because Hyunjin made a bet to last longer than those two.

But it was no use.

Bangchan and Leeknow were the only ones, who didnt take the bet by heart. But its because they could easily last without jerking off, basically because they are too busy for that anyway.

The funny thing is, they put you into the trap too, telling you to join them. Of course you didnt say no, because you didnt want to seem that much of needy brat, but you would lie if you'd say you weren't going crazy.

Everyday you were waiting for him to come home, seeing him all sweaty and tired from practice, but immediately going to the shower without you and going to bed right after.

And because you didnt want to get rejected so many times, you did nothing about it.

Not this time though.

You started to wait for him coming home no matter how late it would get. You were usually always half asleep by the time he got home. Not because he was doing other stuff behind your back, but to avoid you.

Because he was crazy for you.

So many times did he come home seeing you already deep asleep. sometimes wrapped in a thick blanket, but sometimes sleeping without one, making him see your almost bare body you were only covering with one of his shirts, and some laced panties in the colour you knew he´d like.

It was painful for him to not destroy your body here and there. Fucking you numb until sunlight and until you could barely walk the next day. But he also missed showing you affection and love, loving you so deeply and attacking you with kisses.

He lost count on how many times he caught himself staring at your sleepy self, frozen in his place and his hand immediatly going down to palm himself. But stopping early enough with a frustrated, shaky sigh, quickly heading to the shower. For a very cold one.

It was pure torture.

You were usually always asleep by that time because of your work, but this time you didnt allow yourself that.

1 am.

Hearing the door unlocking through your bathroom, you were assuming he was finally home, but ignored it. The bedroom had a bathroom as well, and thats where you were, fresh out of she shower, hair not even dry yet.

Hearing footsteps entering the bedroom, you also heard a big sigh whilst he lazily threw himself on the bed, sitting on the edge of it.

But once he realised you werent in the bed, not sleeping, he called out for you.

“Babe? You still awake?”

You came out of the bathroom, airdrying your hair with your fingers, finally entering your shared bedroom.

He felt his jaw dropping, almost drooling at his sight that he was not expecting at this time.

You, fresh out of she shower, bare face, loose hair, and only in a shirt. A plain white shirt that was his. It did nothing with covering your body, since it was tight around your curves because of your still wet body, doing nothing in covering your breasts either. Your hardened nipples were practically in the center of his attention right now.

“I couldnt sleep so I decided to take a shower,” you said, walking towards him, standing between his lightly spreaded legs.

You placed your hands on each side of his shoulders, brushing them up to go through his hair on the back of his head.

“How was your day?” you said, continuing to massage his hair whilst he only hummed, with his eyes closed.

“It was exhausting, but we finally got the whole choreo right,” he replied, head looking up to you but his eyes werent.

His hands were resting on each side of your hips, purposely going under the shirt with his hands to feel your soft skin against his palms.

“What about you?”

“Nothing,” you replied as simple as that, with a stoic tone in your voice. Letting of him, you were ready to get into bed, but his hand around your wrist stopped you, pulling you back between his legs again.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“To sleep?”

“Why?”

You looked at him confused, raising an eyebrow. “Arent you gonna take a shower and go to sleep too? Like you always did since this month?”

He sighed, dropping his head, swaying your hands with him.

“No, im not, I promise.”

You didnt seem impressed, not looking at him either.

“Babe... come on. Look-” he said, pulling you closer to him, lightly lifting up your leg, inviting you to sit on his lap.

“You´re mad at me, arent you?”

“Glad you finally noticed.”

He sighed, dropping his head, resting it on your belly until he looked up at you again.

“Im sorry its just…” he began, gulping whilst scanning your body again.

“Its this stupid game, and the way look doesnt make anything easier for me. Look at you! Its hard to stay calm by such a sight.”

You were trying not to give in, but you let him continue.

“Can I have a kiss, please?” he said, in an innocent voice, knowing you wouldnt be able to resist.

You finally took the offer to sit on his lap, each of your legs on his sides, making yourself comfortable on him.

His hands found there way to your waist, holding onto you, his head lifted up, he only waited for you to kiss him.

You waited a bit, watching him, how is eyes were closed, lips sticking out only a bit, in hope to give him the one favor. It was such an adorable sight.

You chuckled once you saw him opening his eyes, half lidded and eyebrows furrowed. He wanted to seem mad, but you couldnt take him serious.

“Are you going to make me wait any longer or do I have to kiss you myself?”

You rose an eyebrow at him and his attitude, but enjoying it. “Do you want to try?” you challenged.

He sighed, throwing his head back but coming back to face you again. “No, I want you to kiss me.”

You huffed. “What did you do to deserve a kiss, hm? Tell me what you did in those past weeks to deserve it.”

He bit in his inner cheek, looking away. Because he knew he did absolutely nothing.

“Yeah, thats what I thought,” you said, slowly moving on his lap, but not intentionally, which made him twitch and groan a bit, which didnt come unnoticed by you.

“Do you really think I dont feel how painfully hard your cock is?” you asked, genuinely curious for how long he´s going to let him suffer like that.

“I didnt do shit. I didnt kiss you, anything. Can you explain what made you that hard?”

He just looked down, not even answering you. You could tell he was both annoyed but mostly frustrated.

When you realised he wasnt going to answer any time soon, you grabbed him by his jaw, forcing him to look up at you.

“Are you not going to tell me? Fine,” you said, harshly pulling your hand away, getting up from his lap, standing infront of him.

“Go back,” you said, pointing towards the headboard of your shared bed.

He was confused as to why, but didnt let you tell him twice, assuming you werent here to play games. So he did, slowly pulling himself up all the way until his head touched the headboard.

He just watched you following him, climbing onto his lap again, making yourself comfortable. This time, you purposely moved your hips around him, making him hold back a groan, almost choking by his own saliva. “You´re so pathetic,” you scoffed, clicking your tongue.

Your hands towards his upper body, you started to stroke his chest, feeling his abs and muscular body through his Tshirt.

Going further down with your hands to his lower abdomen, you stopped by his belt, your eyes looking back at him, seeing him analyzing every move your hands were doing.

When he saw you slowly unbuckling his belt, he started to speak up. “What are you going to do?”

You ignored him until you completely took his belt off, holding it infront of him.

“Testing for how long you will be able to hold back,” you replied in a cold tone, and you could practically hear him gulping.

He didnt fight back, nor did he reply. He just watched you placing the belt onto his chest at first, taking both of his hands and pulling them up above his head.

Hyunjin watched your every movement. You reached for his face and stared down at him, your hair sliding off of your shoulder and cascaded down to tickle his face.

He was breathing heavily as you reached to take the belt to your hand with one hand, while your other one were holding his wrists with a bit of struggle, you were quick to tie his hands with the belt, securing it to a rung in the headboard of the bed.

Once you checked to make sure everything was tighly buckled, you leaned back and sat on his lap, sighing deeply as you took in your handy work.

“Now...” you whispered, beginning to trace your hands all across his chest, outlining every curve and muscle. You brought your eyes back to meet his and said: “Lets see for longer you are going to resist.”

He looked up and yanked his hands down a couple times, showing you that he was in fact completely tied up.

“You´re not even saying anything. Not even fighting against it. You really are a pathetic thing arent you?” you shook your head.

He was breathing heavier the more you filled him with your words. He was being completely exposed from you, yet didnt say a thing back to defend himself.

“Y/n... Please,” he said, the please being barely heard, but you were sure listening.

Your fingers slowly started to trail lower and lower, making him jerk up towards you, to not go any lower or else he would lose the game.

He fought against the restraint to get as close to your face as possible, and stared at you intently. You smiled at him then leaned closer to his mouth.

He strained his neck as far as he could go, but he still wasnt able to to reach your mouth without your help.

You closed the distance, your lips connecting lightly. You were holding yourself back, intentionally teasing him.

He kissed you back tenderly, but he was still reaching for you as much as possible, clearly wanting to hold you.

Your kissed were gentle and passionate, both wanting the others so much. He was so needy for your lips, trying to pull himself closer to you, but the more he tried, the more you backed away on purpose. Which is exactly why you pulled back.

His eyes were still closed when you had pulled back to look at him, but they slowly started to slip open.

“Baby... come on, dont do this,” he said frustratingly, almost sounding like a whine.

You gave him a wicked grin, then slowly sat up straight on him again. “Dont babe me right now,” you said, starting to move your hips around him, making sure to never look away to take in the beautiful sight of your boyfriend, shutting his eyes closed with furrowed eyebrows.

“Now lets try something else, shall we?” you said, starting to move down off his lap, making sure to purposely move around his bulge before doing so, making him hiss.

“Y/n, come on...” he said, watching you reach for his pants and underwear, starting to pull them down.

“Shut the fuck up,” you hissed, making you pull them down quicker, his already hardened cock immediatly jumping out, making him throw his head back once you´ve took it in your hand.

“Look at this. Nothing happened and your as hard as a damn rock,” you shook your head brushing your thumb against the tip, making him whimper and breathe very heavily.

“Whats the matter, baby? Are you going to cum already? It sure looks like it,” you asked in an innocent voice, hands slowely moving your hand around his cock.

“Fuck,” he moaned, wanting to touch you, but he was helpless. He couldnt do anything, as you began to rub the head of his cock with your hand, his hips bucking into your hand wildly.

“What are you doing? Dont you want me to stop? I thought you werent allowed to cum for the challenge?”

“I dont care about the game, please...,” he whined as you began to move your hand faster.

“Keep whining like that. Listen to how pathetic you sound. Wanting to come so bad even though you are not allowed to,” you snatched, gently and sloppily moving your hand around his throbbing cock, massaging his balls with your other hand.

You loved your sight. The way his voice cracked when he wanted to say something and the way his face looked so screwed up whenever he let out a whine.

“What is it? Are you going to cum?”

“Please... Dont stop,” he moaned out loud, music to your ears as you quickened your pace.

“Look at you, already so weak,” you spat. “You really thought you were going to win this stupid game? You´re not even fighting back. Letting me do all this.”

His eyes closed shut, breathing in deeply, bucking his hips against your hand once he felt you slowing down your pace.

“You let me wait for so long, not even really talking with me for weeks. Now you expect me to make you cum? You´re a fucking bastard,” you reminded him as you twisted your wrist, using both hands to massage his cock. You were obsessed with your sight, wanting it in your mouth so bad. But you werent going to give him that. Not when he didnt deserve it.

“Im sorry!” he whined out loud, making you chuckle with shaking your head at his messy state.

“You´re sorry? For what?” You moved your hands in the fastest way around his cock this night, making him twitch in your hands, only to completely stop and pull your hands away from him, making him groan.

“Im sorry,” he breathed out. “Im sorry for avoiding you.”

“And why were you avoiding me?” you said.

He watched your very step with his chest panting up and down in a fast pace, trying to calm down from his almost orgasm.

“For a stupid game with my friends,” he replied while his eyes didnt miss any movement of yours.

“And whats the rule of the game, can you tell me that?”

He was sighing, the side of his face buried into the pillow while he tried to calm his breathing.

“Look at me when im talking to you,” you ordered.

“The rule of the game is to not cum for the whole month,” he finally admitted.

“Yet but here you are begging me to let you,” you said, victory on your face.

“Baby, please...” he begged, sounding so desperate for the release it was enough to turn you on.

“I wonder what your friends would say if they find out how much of a needy brat you are. Should we show them?”

Grabbing your phone from the bed side table, you were quick to open the camera, holding it up for the perfect angle.

It looked ethereal. Your legs on each side of his, your hand around his cock whilst his were tied up above his head, his face looking so messed with his baby hairs sticking on his forehead.

You were so glad you could capture this moment.

“Please, Y/n…”

You had all the control over him. He was nothing but a little puppy under you. All tied up, depending on your moves if he´ll have his pleasure or be teased until he cant take it anymore.

But this isnt the first time he´s tied up, Hyunjin knows how to send you over the edge. He know when you´re having enough to the point where you remind him what he really is. A submissive puppy.

But only for you.

There were days he liked to ruin you, see you tremble under him, moaning, screaming his name until daylight.

But there were also days were he was the one begging for a realese, to the point where tears where filling his eyes because you sending him over and over the edge multiple times because he was being such a bad boy to you.

You weren´t stupid. You knew he was doing this on purpose. But thats exaclty why you didnt give him what he wants until he´s a crying, whining mess under you.

Your hand started to glide along his cock teasingly again. “Please ,what?” you asked, making him whimper as he tried to avoid making eye contact with you. Even the slightest bit of your teasing strokes provided, he was getting riled up.

“Dont stop. Please dont stop,” begged over and over again, whilst you quickened your pace around his cock, making him roll his hips up every now and then.

The more you fastened your hand movements, the more whines turned into deeper moans, making it hard for you to not let him fuck you, You were obsessed with his moans, especially when he was moaning out your own name.

“Please, go faster. Im so close,” he whispered as you pumped your hand around the tip all the way down but slowing down again. But you never fully stopped, waiting for him to be close.

By the way his moans grew louder and faster, gave you the cue to stop again, and he grunted.

He let out a frustrated whine, face buried into a pillow, unable to feel his arms because they were up his for too long to feel them.

He was so close. He was so close only to lose all that by a matter of second.

“Y/n... Y/n please,” he begged. He looked so tired, so out of breath with sweat coating his forehead, making his hair stick on his forehead. He looked so pathetic, so helpless under you. His eyes were half lidded, yet you could tell the glossiness in his eyes and from the corner of them.

This time you waisted no time in beginning to take him back into your hand, with a wild pump as you looked at him. “What colour baby?” You asked, wanting to make sure that you werent taking it too far.

“G-green.”

But once again he proved that he had no problems with that. “Of course it is,” you scoffed, his hips bucking and legs shaking, he only listened, hoping you listened as well.

“You like it dont you? Edging you until you´re full with tears in your eyes. Being so close only to lose it all. You enjoy it so much dont you, you brat,” you said, never slowing your pace, infact he was so close. Closer than way before and you could tell.

He only nodded. Not being able to say anthing anyway. The only thing he could focus on was to finally cum. After so many weeks of holding back, he wasnt able to hold it any longer.

“Do you want to come?”

And with an immediate “yes!” he cried out at you. never stop pumping in your hands with a fast speed, feeling him twitch. And thats when you pulled your hand away.

With a loud groan, you watched him throw his head back onto the pillow, crying into it with so much frustration. He thought he was going crazy,

“Do you think you´ve been good?”

“Im sorry, okay! Im sorry for letting you wait so long. Im sorry for avoiding you for a stupid challenge. Ill never play with them again, just please-” he begged, “please, help me,” he whined, and you could actually see a tear roll down his face, feeling the urge of cumming slowly disappearing again.

“I hope you have learned your lesson. Maybe you deserve to cum,” you whispered, taking in his painfully hard cock in your hands one last time, going down to reach his face. You wanted to see the final result up close; his expressions and especially his moans.

He began to whine curses, and you watched him up close, your eyes never the sight of his plump pink lips, only inches away from yours, whilst starting to move your hand around him again, hips moving up to feel the last stroke until you pulled away, his cock slapping against his abdomen.

“Im not sure if you really deserve it, though,” you lightly chuckled, this time he sighed, clicking his tongue.

“Im- im so close,” he moaned out, once he felt your hand continuing where it stopped, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Look at me,” you ordered, wanting him to look at you whilst he felt the familiar build up in his gut.

“Please let me cum! I beg you, please!” he whined and cried out, grunting as his hips lifted up from the bed, the room filled with moans again.

“Are you ever going to join the challenges whilst having your girlfriend wait for you for weeks?” you asked, as you were starting to go slow again.

“No! Never again! I promise, im so fucking sorry. Please ” And whilst you were not stopping the pumping anymore, you felt his cock twitching, watching his cum starting to shot out of his cock.

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, once he felt your warm tongue on his tip, holding his cock and aiming the white liquid into your mouth, not wanting it to go to waste, since its been so much from all the edging.

There was so much that you couldnt swallow all of it, some of it rolling onto his abdomen, making you lick him clean.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, throwing his head back onto the pillow, with almost catching no air.

“Baby,” he spoke up, eyes clothes with his breath hitching and trying to calm it.

“Yes, babe?” you replied, about to undo the belt off his wrists.

But just when you were about to do that, you saw him pull his hands down all by himself, making your jaw drop.

“What-”

He did it with such ease, that he had no struggle untying it by himself.

“You have to be kidding me.”

All this time when you thought you tied him up so well, you realized that it was loose enough for him to free his hands.

But he never did.

All this time he was holding himself back, hands above his head, never stopping you though he had all the chance for it. You couldnt believe it.

“I knew you were enjoying this a little too much,” you rolled your eyes, and he finally held you again, pulling you onto him, wrapping his hands around your body.

He just smirked and chuckled, eyes closed as he was ready to fall asleep.

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BONUS: Hyunjin had already fallen asleep, he mustve been so tired from earlier plus practice. So you didnt want to wake him and decided to take a shower before going to sleep yourself.

When you finally laid back on your shared bed, you checked your phone and your messages, seeing all the texts of the boys from the groupchat.

IMESSAGE at 11:23 am

jisung: hows its going??

chan: working as always wbu?

changbin: well im gonna win this so…

jisung: what ab y/n and hyunjin? theyre so quiet

you: *sent one photo* he lost guys

jisung: damn???? all tied up and shit?!

felix: he must be sleeping like a baby now

you: oh he is

#skz x reader #hyunjin x reader #stray kids #skz smut #straykids smut #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjiin smut #hyunjin au #hyunjin x reader smut

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plounce · 3 years

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what if gay CATS........... were gay PERSONS

(info on this au under the cut)

theyre all shitty young adults just kind of. getting through their early 20s as best they can. or as much as they can. maybe things will get better someday, but right now they’re kind of spinning their wheels

magic exists but like eh it’s not a big thing don’t worry about it. it’s around but like whatever. not many people have it and it’s mostly just like. a curiosity or a party trick

demeter and bombularina are together, tugger and mistoffelees are together, bombularina and tugger occasionally fwb, it’s cool and aboveboard and it’s all fine

demeter:

bisexual with a preference for women. 24 years old

semi-psychic (not as powerful as tantomile or coricopat). tends to have vague and confusing prophetic dreams

dropped out of grad school for sociology due to trauma and ensuing intensified mental illness. kind of bitter about it, but tries to get through every day. general anxiety disorder even before all that

very nervous around most men she doesn’t know & trust

currently working at a barnes & noble starbucks, which sucks. she recently became the assistant manager, which turbo sucks because now she has more work for only like a buck raise, but at least she’s getting reliable shifts

her go-to therapy is cutting her hair with scissors. her hair is fried to all hell from regular bleaching

she’s learning how to crochet because she’s decided she needs to do something physically productively creative with her hands to distract herself from Stuff

bombalurina:

bisexual. 24 years old

got her bachelor’s in english two years ago and hasn’t found a job in her field and has kind of given up on it for now

she’s been bartending for like four years, does freelance editing work on the side. will occasionally write listicles for clickbait sites if she needs extra cash

literally any extra money she can save goes to tattoos. her right sleeve’s almost done

has natural red hair but dyes it cherry red

a hedonist to cope but is also just a natural hedonist. likes a good bath

i know that like the typical thing fandoms say about female characters is “doesn’t take shit” for the girlboss points but she truly does not take shit anymore. she used to take people’s shit sometimes but at this point in her life she’s tired and she has a girlfriend to be protective of. she has a couple people whose shit she will take (mostly just tugger) but besides them (and having to practice basic customer service to keep her job) she’s tired of other people’s shit! enough!

my personal take on bombalurina is a mix between the riot grrrls of the 90s and 80s punk girls, and then a dash of the greaser chicks from grease. i saw that spiked collar and my brain went OH okay i can run with this somewhere fun. same for demeter, but less so - she just has the piercings.

demelurina:

bombalurina met demeter in college at a women’s activism club, noticed her because of her dimple piercings and was like “oh someone else with a lot of metal in her face, i’ll sit next to her”

they were each other’s first off-campus roommates and were close friends. made out a couple times, but it was mostly a lot of sexual tension. there was a lot of bombalurina staring at demeter while she or demeter made out with someone else

demeter was on and off with her high school boyfriend munkustrap and bombalurina was like “oh he’s so much more stable/calm than me and she needs that, i party a bit too much for her, i shouldn’t try anything” so she just sort of. lets their almost-there peter off

(this is all bombalurina’s internal thoughts - demeter always was interested in her, but thought she was too boring for bombalurina. so neither of them thought they could pursue it)

bombalurina graduated and moved somewhere cheaper further away from campus. they kind of drift apart

munkustrap and demeter peter off and he moves away for a job (they’re still good friends, it was a very amicable breakup) and then demeter gets with macavity, which is a deeply toxic situation for her and sucks hugely and throws her whole life really off track. won’t go into further details

she finally manages to break up with him and calls bombalurina at like 2 am asking if she can pick her up, and also if she can sleep on her couch, it’s okay if that’s not okay, she just. really needs a place she feels safe, and her gut is telling her to. and of course bombalurina says yes

bombalurina also knew macavity and had also made out a couple times with him at like parties and stuff (see: staring at demeter as she makes out with people). something about transference of feelings - bombalurina was into him for a couple moments because he and demeter had a thing.

this is due to me interpreting the song “macavity” as actually about bombalurina wanting to fuck demeter and her singing as a half-repressed expression of that. i use my really good wlw brain to reach that conclusion. it’s kind of a non-competitive version of eve sedgwick’s take on the love triangle. (<-- normal thing to say)

but anyway demeter stays on bombalurina’s couch and she tries so hard to stay on track but eventually she just has to drop out. bombalurina helps her with that too. she’s just really supportive even as demeter’s life is at its lowest point. when she gets home from bartending she gets demeter to go to sleep

she just Stays with her and makes her smile and reminds her that her life isn’t over, there’s still things in her day to enjoy, to keep her trudging forward

bombalurina is roommates with tugger at this point - he also recently dropped out and demeter knows him because he’s munkustrap’s brother, so he’s Trusted and also is like “hey it’s okay that you dropped out, im here and im chilling and you like me and respect me at least a little, and you have a bachelor’s degree at least!” (more on him later)

demeter is like “oh god ive been crashing at their place for so long not paying rent, theyre gonna ask me to leave, im such a freeloader, they wont take my attempts at paying rent” but then bombalurina and tugger are like “hey! the lease is almost up! we found a pretty good 3 bedroom, do you wanna have your own room for real?” and she nearly cries because 1. the RELIEF 2. oh my god you want me around???

cut to bombalurina helping demeter put together an ikea dresser (tugger got banished to the kitchen to make crystal light lemonade for them because he’s useless with a screwdriver) and demeter has two epiphanies:

1. i thought i was ready to d*e four months ago and here i am making a dresser to put clothes into in my new apartment where i live and feel safe and loved. im still not happy but im still alive and im making a dresser

2. holy fuck im back in love with my best friend, and ten times more than i was back then.

so she like kind of freaks out because she’s already imposed so much on bombalurina, how could she impose her FEELINGS on her like this, oh no oh no oh no

meanwhile bombalurina’s back in love with her even MORE and she’s also like no... she’s already dealing with so much... i don’t want to make her uncomfortable or feel unsafe in her own home especially after her recent relationship trauma... i just want her to feel safe around me...

you might think tugger as their roommate would be like “JUST KISS” but he is in fact pretty oblivious because he is self-absorbed. mistoffelees on the other hand..

eventually they do have a big confession of feelings after demeter has a bad day and it’s very dramatic and they make out in the rain. and it’s like. well this is a movie scene. but also im cold and damp. let’s head inside our home and get warm and dry :)

and then they go inside and and talk through everything, all their feelings (not just their romantic feelings but like ALL their feelings) and their shared histories and bombalurina is like “do you think you’re... ready for a relationship right now? like that would be a good thing for you?”

and demeter considers it. she does stop and think. and then she says, “with anyone else... probably not. but it’s you. and i feel so safe around you, and we’re already so close. you make the future feel more worth it. you make more days alive feel not just tolerable, but something to look forward to. and knowing you’ve loved me all this time... it’s nice. it’s good. i’m - i’m understating it so much, it’s more than nice, it’s just - it’s a lot. i wish i had noticed back then.” “hey, hey, don’t blame yourself. i’m the one who never said anything.”

anyway. everything works out, and they start dating for real :)

tugger:

bisexual. 22 years old

dishwasher at the same bar bombalurina works at. she got him the job. he keeps bugging her to teach him bartending tricks and on slow nights she will agree to

he dropped out of their four year, but he managed to secure an associate’s in communications before he dipped

trying to be an ig influencer hotboy and hopefully get modeling jobs from that but his phone’s camera sucks shit so his account isn’t really going anywhere. but he continues to post his low resolution shirtless selfies

trying to cope with being the failure son who does not have a fancy nonprofit job with a salary and healthcare by being self-absorbed and self-aggrandizing

it works about 60% of the time and 60% of the times that it doesn’t he’s able to hide it

he dropped out right around when bombalurina graduated and he was like HEY! ARE YOU LOOKING FOR A ROOMMATE WHO DOESN’T CARE IF WE LIVE TEN MILES AWAY FROM CAMPUS? WELL HAVE I GOT A SOLUTION FOR YOU: ME!

to which bombalurina (who has fooled around with him here and there and thinks he is funny little man and genuinely goodhearted, and also he has rockin abs as a plus) says munkustrap already asked me if i need a roommate and if i do to consider you, because you don’t want to move back home. in other words: yes, you little idiot

they do fool around with each other but they are both very understanding that it is strictly platonic and for fun, especially once they become roommates. they both do not desire each other for anything serious

he did have a bit of a crush on each other when they met (hot punk older girl who’s friends with his brother) but 1. it dissipated pretty quick after they fooled around for the first time because it was not a very serious crush 2. she was in the middle of being in love with demeter so she was focused on that, emotionally

he got his ears pierced a couple times in high school but bombalurina inspired him to get a couple more. she went with him when he got his nose pierced

demeter has always understood that him and bombalurina are strictly fwb, has never been an issue.

she and him like to bleach their hair together when their hair schedules line up (he bleaches his way less often then she does), but she refuses to use his fancy conditioner that keeps his hair unfried because it’s expensive, even though he tells her to go ahead and use it, please, the health of her hair is giving HIM anxiety, demeter please. please demeter

mistoffelees:

gay. 20 years old

has magic. it’s pretty good magic but again: magic is not a big deal in this concept

a bit spooky. skulks around. a bit of a bitch but also very very nice. chooses when to speak

he has postings on craigslist and fiverr about finding lost objects and people with magic. like a gig economy private detective

side job is a waiter at a fancy restaurant

sometimes he gets paid VERY well from the private detecting, depending on the client. he does ask his psychic friends (tantomile & coricopat) to give a quick glance over on some of the more suspicious clients just to make sure he isn’t finding someone who should not be found by that person.

doesn’t go to college. is roommates with his sister victoria, who’s a freshman and studying dance. moved into town with her so she wouldn’t have to live in the dorms by having a guaranteed roommate.

tuggoffelees:

the general vibe i want for these two is mistoffelees walking around town or driving around in his shitty toyota camry while tugger tags along because he’s bored and thinks this is cool as shit

the general tone of the au is “magic isn’t a big deal” except for tugger, who thinks mistoffelees’ magic and his magic freelancing is the coolest shit ever. this is mostly because he just likes mistoffelees. “there are people who can do cooler shit than me, tug” “yeah but i don’t KNOW them also theyre not as COOL as you” “you had to explain to me how instagram reels work”

idk how they met i just think tugger shows up at his and bombalurina’s apartment one day (this is when demeter has moved in but they havent moved to the 3br yet) with this dude to dash in and pick something up and bombalurina is like “uh. who’s this” “oh this is mistoffelees he’s SO GOOD AT MAGIC” [mistoffelees nods hello] “okay bye bombalurina see you at work!!!” “uh. later”

after that he just shows up a lot. sort of ambiguous if theyre dating or what for a while before bombalurina straight up asks like “hey does the dude you’re dating know we fool around” “the dude im - what?” “... the little magic guy who keeps using our hot cocoa mix. misty.” “oh. uh. we aren’t dating.” “... do you want to? because you’re kind of all over him constantly” “um. well! haha, if i wanted to, i could! haha!” “yeah get back to me on that”

tugger trying to use his ig clout to get mistoffelees more work even though 1. he has no clout 2. mistoffelees has a very stable client base. but mistoffelees appreciates the effort. the self-promo guy promoing someone other than himself... the highest expression of love...

mistoffelees is A Nonthreatening Man plus he’s pretty obviously gay so demeter is chill around him pretty quickly. when mistoffelees is over they’ll sit on the couch where demeter sleeps and watch documentaries quietly while she crochets

they both occasionally say spooky shit at the same time because magic stuff. bombalurina and tugger are both torn between “that was cool as fuck” and “god that’s unnerving”

just a lot of tugger following mistoffelees around on his jobs and mistoffelees letting him because he’s fond of him and them occasionally getting into minor peril and interesting shenanigans, but it is 90% fetch quests

i think the first time they met tugger was taking selfies in front of a hydrangea in a public park and he saw mistoffelees walk up with a shovel and start digging in one of the flower beds and he thought he was hot so he went over and offered to take over on the shoveling to look strong and masculine and he ended up digging up a skull, which mistoffelees picked up and said “thanks” and then walked away

mildly terrifying but also very interesting and tugger’s days are kind of boring and dishwashing kind of sucks as a job to do like every night and he is a person who thrives on novelty so. moth to a porchlight

i think they do start making out for fun here and there and then a while later theyre out on one of mistoffelees’ jobs and someone asks “who’s the guy with you” and mistoffelees replies “oh that’s my boyfriend, don’t worry about him” and then it’s like. “HUH? I’M YOUR BOYFRIEND?” “uh. yeah? i assumed. is that okay?” “i mean yeah of course i think you’re great! how long have we–” “oh like a while.” “oh. uh. cool!!”

they just hang out a lot. mistoffelees enjoys teasing him and enjoys his warmth and bombasticity and tugger likes watching and helping him solve little mysteries around the county because it’s always something new. they’re kind of a comedy duo. they just enjoy spending their time together and following mistoffelee’s internal magic gps to find lost dogs and lost necklaces

yeah right now this au is just vibes and just sort of. continuing forward with your days and your weeks and your months. just young adults hanging out

#cats the musical #mr mistoffelees #rum tum tugger #demeter cats #bombalurina #tuggoffelees #demelurina #chirps #bird in the hand

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whythinktoomuch · 4 years

Text

v. a deadly giveaway

(pt. i) (pt. ii) (pt. iii) (pt. iv)

“No, it’s huge deal,” Kara insists. “Alex hardly ever lets anyone choose their own weapons. Plus, she likes to judge people based on their preference in firearms. Like, for example, Mike with his big ol’ shotgun, which... well, don’t make me say it.”

“It’s just that either way, I’d have to give it back, no?”

Kara’s brow crinkles. “No...? Of course not. Why would we make you give it back?”

“Well, when I leave, I mean.”

“Oh... right,” Kara says. She hadn’t really considered a possibility in which Lena wouldn’t stay with them indefinitely, but nods as if she had.

Lena looks over at the marked silence, one corner of her lips quirking up in a wry smile. She leans into Kara, resting her head on her broad shoulder. “So, what does your gun say about you?”

Kara glances down at her trusty semiautomatic pistol and shrugs. “That I’m a quick shot?”

"Oh?” Lena laughs, and the delighted sound has Kara’s spirits lifting, just a little. “It’s also a Glock.”

“Sure.”

“Which means you have big hands,” Lena continues. She takes one of the hands in question and traces over the callused lifelines with her fingertips. When Lena plants a kiss at the very center of her palm, Kara’s spirits practically skyrocket.

So, Lena intends to leave one day, and Kara keeps forgetting about it until she’s forced to remember. Whether it be a stray comment or a pointed silence in response to questions about the near future, the reminder never fails to soil Kara’s mood for the rest of the day.

Naturally, Lena notices. Kara makes no secret of her feelings, after all, though she’s somehow managed to keep certain choice words to herself thus far. But Lena makes a real effort to make it up to her every time:

holding Kara’s hand,

tracing lazy shapes around each knuckle with her fingers,

telling her a silly joke, despite not remembering the punchline,

pressing lingering kisses to her shoulder, the warmth somehow bleeding through two layers of cotton,

falling asleep with her head in Kara’s lap, etc.

But honestly, in the end, it all just makes it that much worse for Kara.

“You can’t force her to stay,” Alex says with a sigh.

Kara scowls because she knows that, but still. “Well,” she says, “you made Kelly stay here with you, didn’t you?”

“Did not. I just made her like me enough to stay.”

Kara mumbles something into her pillow that Alex has to force her to repeat more clearly, “Lena likes me too.”

“That she does,” Alex says, rolling her eyes. “You know, she stares at the back of your head whenever she’s behind you. Not at your ass like a normal person, but your head. Like, she’s just waiting for you to turn around and see her.”

Kara buries both her fists into her belly, trying to stave off the ache that comes with Alex’s words, and just groans and groans.

“So, why haven’t you tried to kiss me again yet?” Kara asks, the next time she and Lena are killing time in the library together. There’s no one else around and Kara’s frankly got nothing much to lose these days. “Was it really that bad?”

Lena doesn’t answer, but her forehead goes bright red behind the cover of her latest novel. She starts turning the pages a bit more quickly, at a pace that surely even she couldn’t be reading at.

“Because if it was... this might be the perfect time to let you know that, well... it had been a while,” Kara says slowly. “And I wasn’t really ready or expecting a beautiful woman to just, you know—”

“Kara!” Lena slaps the book onto the table before her, her entire face blushing furiously. “What are you doing?”

Kara blinks. “Explaining?”

“Explaining what?”

“Why I think our next kiss would be so much better.”

“You... think about that a lot?”

“About kissing you?” Kara says incredulously. “Yeah, like, all the time!”

Lena nearly upends the table in her mad scramble to get across, the momentum resulting in Kara’s chair tipping backwards and crashing to the floor, with the two of them toppling along with it.

“Ow...” Kara wheezes, her back already sore from landing heavily against the back of the chair. “And wow, um... Cool.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Lena says breathlessly, grinding her hips against Kara’s like she’s ready to beg for forgiveness. “Are you okay?”

Kara shakes her head in amazement. “I’m fine. And you’re perfect.” Then she pulls Lena down for a hungry kiss, and in accordance with her predictions from earlier, it is indeed much better than their first.

Kara’s panting, then Lena’s panting, which only makes Kara pant even harder. She lets her hands wander—cupping the back of Lena’s neck, cradling her face, tangling in her long dark hair and tugging insistently, sliding down her arching back in reverence—until finally, they rest at the gentle swell of Lena’s hips.

She pauses with her fingertips skating just past the hem of Lena’s shirt. It’s as far as they got to last time when Lena froze up on her, and now, as somewhat expected, Lena’s freezing up all over again.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Kara says, cutting Lena off before she could try. “Kissing’s the best part anyway. Honest.”

Lena ducks her head, pressing her forehead against Kara’s thumping chest. “I want to, Kara. I really do want to...”

“Okay.” Kara strokes Lena’s hair, and she relaxes into the touch with a soft sigh until she’s boneless atop Kara’s blessedly solid frame. “Well, I’m okay either way.”

“I just...” Lena’s muffling her words into Kara’s shirt now, and it’s harder to hear, but infinitely more distracting. “I just don’t want you to see...”

Kara blinks a few times up at the ceiling in question, but it holds no answers for her. “See... your boobs?” she asks Lena instead.

“What? No!” Lena says sharply, as if Kara’s the one who’s being cryptic right now. “Of course not!”

“I’m not sure what we’re talking about then... but would it help if I went first?”

“What do you mean?”

But Kara’s already sitting up, leaning slightly back to give herself more space, then she whips her t-shirt off with a careless flourish. Lena’s hand—braced against Kara’s hip for balance—seizes up and her nails briefly bite into Kara’s skin.

“... You... can’t be serious...” Lena says, her voice strained. “What the fuck?”

Kara frowns, definitely not having expected that sort of reaction. “I ran out of clean bras.”

“No. Just... you look like this?” Lena presses her entire hand flat against Kara’s abs, gasping when they tense up against her touch. “God, you’re such a dick.”

Kara bursts out laughing, wrapping Lena up in the tightest of hugs, just so, so utterly charmed. They don’t even kiss again for the rest of the night. Instead, Kara just points out all the various scars that cover her body—a scattered, yet tangible timeline of everything she’s endured since the world fell apart.

Lena brushes her lips against each one upon introduction, attending to these long since healed wounds like Kara was still hurting.

Later on, when Alex accidentally walks in on them, she very loudly wonders why on earth couldn’t they just be having sex like normal people, goddammit.

Alex reiterates her very pointed question again when she’s getting ready for the next scavenging trip. “Please do it sooner rather than later. Preferably when I’m still out there, safe from catching you guys in the middle of whatever it is that passes for sex for the two of you.”

“Shut up,” Kara mutters. “You can’t order us to do it.”

“Sure I can,” Alex says easily, but she adjusts her tone at the pout her sister directs at her. “Look, I’m just saying. When she’s gone, you might end up regretting it. Who knows how long it’ll be before someone else you take liking to comes along?”

“Never. I’m never going to like anyone ever again.”

“Jesus.” Alex ruffles Kara’s hair affectionately until she flashes her teeth in a begrudging smile.

“Oh, hang on,” Alex says, once she gets to the front gate. “I think I left some spare rounds under my bed. Can you go get it?”

Kara rolls her eyes. “Why can’t you just go get it?”

“Because with my luck, your girlfriend’s probably already there half-naked or something.”

Kara ignores the flip her stomach gives at the very thought that Lena could be her girlfriend, let alone a half-naked one. “Because I’m faster, huh?” she says all cheeky instead, and Alex swats her over the head for it.

When Kara shoulders her way into the room, she doesn’t expect to see Lena, but her presence in and of itself isn’t surprising. No, what’s surprising is the fact that Lena’s not wearing her flannel, and she normally wears that thing all day, every day, even with all that wear and tear, even under the scorching sun, even to sleep.

But right now, the flannel’s off, and Lena’s wearing naught but a snug tank-top and the most terrified expression.

It takes a beat for Kara to notice—so distracted by the sight of all this newfound skin now at her disposal—but Lena’s holding something in her hand.

“Kara,” Lena starts, voice trembling. “I can explain.”

But before Kara could ask for clarification, she sees it. A jagged oval of tiny divots on the outside of Lena’s bicep. It’s an angry red, swollen, and unmistakeable.

Kara feels the floor drop out underneath her, and her stomach plummets right after it.

“That—that’s a bite. You’ve been bitten,” Kara’s shouting, oh god, when did she start shouting? “You were bitten, Lena! When were you bitten? When did you—god, when were you going to tell me, when—”

Lena quickly sticks herself with the item in hand—a syringe filled with some bright blue fluid—depressing the plunger right into the bite. Within seconds, the redness and swelling die down, but the bite—ugly and prominent even on pale skin—remains.

Kara’s throat hurts, from the shouting, from the hopelessness lodged in the very center of it all. She’s inexplicably crying already.

“I was bitten eight months ago,” Lena explains swiftly, quietly, as she throws her wretched flannel back on, disappearing the bite that’s already been branded in the forefront of Kara’s mind. “It’s... manageable. I can keep it at bay. It’s just a monthly injection. I’m fine.”

“It’s not a cure,” Kara says in a croak.

“No.”

“Monthly... injection?” Kara swipes at her eyes with a clenched fist. “How long do you have left?”

Lena hesitates, her lips pursed. “I’m... running out.”

“How. Long?”

“Four months,” Lena says, and Kara feels hitherto unregistered parts of her heart crumple and die. “I have to leave, Kara.”

Kara wants to protest—it’s still her natural inclination despite everything—but before she can even open her mouth to do what she does best, Alex steps into the room behind her.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

#finally got to the part i wanted to write (:#hope y'all enjoy the ride (:#my words.

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platypanthewriter · 4 years

Text

Strangest 3

Head trauma leading to mature discussions of personhood

“Hey. You comin’ tonight?” Billy leaned next to Steve’s locker, dripping from the shower, his towel in his hand.

“Where?” Steve frowned over, then turned away to breathe in the stale smell of gym clothes, closing his eyes as the flourescent lights shone on Billy’s shoulders, abs, and smirk.

“Carol’s.” He leaned in, warm breath heating Steve’s ear, and his voice dropped to barely audible. “Beat me at darts and I’ll blow you in the laundry room.”

“What?” Steve felt a grin forming, wondering whether Carol thought Billy was coming alone, and whether Tommy knew, but shook it off. “Why the hell’d you tell me your dad murdered your mom, Hargrove,” he hissed back. “Hopper’s pissed. He wasted his whole weekend tracking her down.”

Billy took a slow breath, his whole body pulling back and tensing like he’d iced over. Steve kept towelling his hair, jerking his head away as Billy slammed both lockers with a punch that left a smear of blood across the vents. The coach’s voice shouted over, but Billy was already stalking out into the hall. Half the basketball team ran after him. Their laughter at his wet naked ass failed to alert poor Mrs. Durand coming around a corner--she yelped, holding a pile of folders in front of her face. Billy knocked them aside to scream into her eyes, and shoved her into the wall.

“That dude’s hilarious,” Tommy beamed, and Steve stalked back in to ask the coach to see about Mrs. Durand.

A sharp knuckle in the back awoke Steve from blue-lit tunnels to the soft scratching of chalk at the front of the class.

“You aren’t breathing,” Nancy whispered. “Steve.”

He clapped his sweatshirt sleeve over his mouth in case of croaking noises, and focused on the page numbers copied out on the chalkboard. They blurred, and Nancy smacked the back of his head.

“Steve,” she hissed, just as the bell rung, startling his lungs into action.

“I’m breathing now,” he smiled, ducking his head to sort out his bag, and she grabbed his shoulder.

“Library. Now.”

He considered, then nodded. Nancy having a whole litter of kittens over his inattention in class sounded nearly as jarring against the Upside Down as breathing against Billy Hargrove’s jacket.

She drug him by the elbow anyway, stopping by the drinking fountain. “Do you need some water?”

“Nah,” he rubbed his face, finding that imagining himself as a fainting, corseted heroine didn’t have much entertainment value. Maybe if he told Billy later.

Her eyes narrowed, and she drug him on through the library doors, shoving him at a table. “What’s going on,” she whispered. “You were better. Mike keeps answering calls and then asking whether you showed up to class, and then whether you stayed through class, and then whether I saw you after class, but I thought you looked better!”

“Oh.” He rolled his eyes, wondering whether Dustin, Will, or Max were checking up on him. He dropped his bag on the table, dropping into a chair. “No, I am--I’ve been sleeping better.” She brought the full weight of extremely concerned eyebrows to bear, and he quailed. “Last night was--long, I mean, I don’t know, what do you want me to say, Nancy?”

“You weren’t asleep, just now,” her nose wrinkled in concentration, and his stressed brain informed him she was still unfairly attractive. “What’s going on, Steve?”

“That doesn’t happen as much, I’m really fine--”

“I know I haven’t really been around--”

“Oh, no, okay, Nance. There were monsters, this isn’t about--us. My house is way out there and it’s quiet and dark and lonely, and the snow looks like--” He frowned at a window. Like the floaters in the air in the tunnels.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I wish the wind would kick up,” she inspected a hangnail, “--I’ve been using my curtains, even during the day, it’s silly.”

He snorted, jerking the zipper on his bag back and forth. “Anyway, the little turds keep coming out to keep me company ‘cause they think they’re gonna find me dead on the floor because--”

She waited, raising her eyebrows, and he dropped his forehead to the table and groaned loudly enough for the librarian to smack a book loudly on her desk and clear her throat. “Steve.”

“I can’t believe they haven’t told you,” he muttered.

“Steve,” she said again, and the cool table started to feel good against his hot face. “What didn’t they tell me. I can get it out of Mike.”

“I like girls,” he informed her anxiously. “I do, it’s not--that, I mean, I’d still date you, it wasn’t you--”

Nancy jerked her head back, face squidged. “Ew, Steve, whatever this is, why does my little brother know about it? Gross.”

That was enough to get his head off the table. “Nasty, Nance,” he echoed her grimace. “Not like that.”

“You aren’t making any sense,” she raised her eyebrows.

He took a deep breath, glad to see horrifying confessions were enough of a distraction for his lungs to engage. “I’m, uh. I’m kinda, y’know...seeing Billy Hargrove.”

She snorted. “Psyche! Seriously, Steve.”

He clenched his teeth, glancing around, then whispered, “I am kissing Billy Hargrove. Look,” he leaned in, running his fingers along his jaw. “Stubble burn.”

“Oh my god,” she stared at him.

“I know." He let his head fall back, sliding down in his seat.

“Steve. Oh my god.”

After a long silence, he lifted his head to look at her, pulling his bag closer as a barrier between them.

She’d gone a little unfocused, her expression fixed. “No wonder they’re--wait, no, that can’t be what Mike knows. He--what happened, Steve. Oh my god.”

He whined into the side of his bag. “They left him in the trunk of my car! I took him back to my house, he just...he comes around now. Like when you feed raccoons.” He looked up to see her shaking her head, smile stiff.

“That’s pretty accurate, Steve, what if you don’t feed him one day and he eats you?” She leaned in, face serious, as though the biggest danger with Billy was a shortage of Violent Stranger Kibble.

“I don’t think--” He paused as she reached over and took his hand.

“Grace Olive Wiley was one of the most famous venomous snake handlers of all time,” she began, and he blinked. “She claimed they were harmless if you trained them the right way, but she was bitten while posing with one for a picture. It took her thirty seconds to pry it off her finger. Steve.”

“He’s not venomous,” he resisted the urge to pull her hand closer, “--I mean, like...I know he’s terrible, but he hasn’t…” He let his face fall against his bag again. “Did Mike tell you anything about Billy’s dad? Max’ stepdad?”

“No?” She pulled her hand back, leaning in, eager as ever for new information, and he grinned at the familiarity.

“Max says--” he stopped, biting his lips while he considered, “--he beats the shit out of him. Like, all the time. I think he broke a bottle or something over his head? He showed up covered in broken glass and cooking sherry.” She blinked slowly. “And I know cooking sherry, because--you know Tammy Ives, she was my first kiss, we’d been drinking cooking sherry.”

Nancy appeared to be biting back an explosion of laughter.

“Billy doesn’t drink cooking sherry, it’s salty, and anyway, he smelled more like--”

“I believe you, Sherlock,” she said around her fingers, her shoulders shaking with giggles. “I have never drunk cooking sherry, you’re the expert witness--but Steve, you can’t just--he beat the shit out of you, you can’t just--”

“I knoooow,” he moaned into his bag. “He’s convinced I got Barb pregnant, killed her with a nailbat, and...buried her in the woods? I think?”

Her mouth hung open.

“I know! But he knows I’m lying about what I used the nailbat for--”

“He’s seen your bloody nailbat?” she asked weakly. “Why…” Steve waited, but she just shook her head, leaning her face in her hands.

“It’s a colossal mess,” he sighed. “I think he thinks I’m scarier than he is?”

She gripped her notebook. “And that’s...impressive?”

“He thinks Hopper helped me cover it up,” he rubbed his face. “I don’t know what to tell him, the truth is--”

“Out,” she agreed. “Truth is out. Why does he…” She scrunched her nose up at him, and he shrugged, waiting. “If he thinks you’re a murderer, why does he want to--” it was her turn to glance around, whispering, “Why does he want to kiss you?!”

“I don’t know,” he whispered back. “Why do I want to kiss him?”

She pressed her hands together under her chin, pursing her lips as though there was an answer in her mental card catalog that would make everything make sense.

“I think we’re both like...half gay, Nancy,” he whispered, holding his hands around his mouth to keep the soundwaves from informing half the library.

“But he’s terrible,” she whispered back. “Have you ever wanted to kiss Jonathan?”

“No,” he shook his head, wide-eyed. “No, I swear, Nancy, I absolutely do not wanna kiss your boyfriend--”

“I’m not worried about it,” she rolled her eyes. “Jonathan’s not like that--” she frowned at him. “It’s bisexual, by the way, not--not half gay.”

“It is?” he asked, voice thready. “People are...that?”

She reached over and squeezed his hand. “I’m trying to figure out what Mike knows now, because if he knew you were kissing Billy Hargrove I don’t think he’d be worried.”

He opened his mouth, but she held up a hand.

“Actually I’m wondering, now, are you bisexual? Have you ever been attracted to another man? Because it’s Billy, Steve. Hargrove. What you might be is crazy.”

“That’s probably true too,” he hugged his bag to his chest, “--he--he helps, though. He’s just--I can’t think about--things--when Billy’s there stinking like--like cigarettes and cooking sherry.”

“Buy a dog,” she suggested, raising her eyebrows. “Come over. Y’know what, I’ve been stealing my mom’s horrible vanilla candles, my room smells like the bathroom in a furniture store, it's very...distracting.”

“Those were rank, where does she even--”

“You could ask somebody normal out. You’re still popular.”

“I can’t date anybody that knows, though,” he stared back, and she swallowed, lowering her eyes, “...and anybody else is gonna ask about the…” Nancy waited, and he cleared his throat. “I’m weird now, I barely sleep, I do weird things with--marshmallows--”

“Mike mentioned the marshmallows.” Her mouth quirked. “I...guess that might have been something we thought was weird? I don’t know what weird looks like to everyone else anymore.”

“Probably includes kissing Billy Hargrove,” he snorted into the bag, catching her giggles.

“You could kiss Tommy,” she stuck her tongue out, nose wrinkled, “--I mean, bleah, but think about it, he might try to beat you up but he wouldn’t win.”

“Tommy,” he echoed back, wrinkling his nose.

“He’s awful,” she leaned in convincingly, “--and safer.”

“...I could just watch The Outsiders a few hundred more times,” he muttered into his bag, and she frowned.

“...Dallas Winston, isn’t it. The scary one.”

Steve raised his eyebrows, feeling his neck start to flush. “Shut up. I saw you looking at Rob Lowe’s jawline too--”

“Jawlines,” she whispered. “He does have a nice jawline, doesn’t he. It’s just that Billy Hargrove is attached to the jaw. What does Mike know, though? He didn’t catch you two necking.”

“No!” Steve shuddered. “Just, uh. Billy keeps just...coming over? And then the Goonies showed up--” she blinked, then waved him on, “--and he was there all night? For their sleepover.”

“Oh my god.” She held her hands over her mouth. “What’d you do?”

“I told him to go upstairs, and they watched Lord of the Rings--”

“Eugh.” She stuck her tongue out. “I was so relieved Lucas got sick of the singing goblins.”

“Will might know,” he whispered back. “I drug Billy back inside by the hand--” one eyebrow raised at him, and he glared back at it, “--and Dustin and Mike were just doing that thing little cats and birds do, y’know, trying to scare Billy--” he leaned his head in his arms.

She blinked. “...puffing up? They were doing a threat display? I can see it,” she cocked her head, grinning, “--did Mike have his arms folded?”

“I don’t know, just Will was staring at our hands, the others didn’t notice.”

“Do you want him to keep it a secret? I can try to talk to him.” She wrinkled her nose thoughtfully, and Steve sighed over her freckles, feeling another flutter of relief that his sexuality wouldn’t be entirely Billy-Hargrove-directed in future.

“...I mean.” He bit his lips, the urge to protect his band of goblins throwing his brain back to barricading a bus. His breath shuddered, and he rubbed his face. “If I was dating Jonathan--” they both screwed up their faces, “--and I don’t want to, but if I was, then...I’d probably have to tell them. But if Dustin gets in Billy’s face about kissing me, Billy might,” he paused, tongue caught in a whorl of possibilities. “Grab him. Walk in front of a Mack truck. Jesus, I don’t know.”

“Steve,” she reached over for his hands again. “You don't need him around. Come over after school. I’ll give you some candles. You’re going to get hurt.”

He snorted. “It’s, I mean, it’s not…”

“Steve,” she repeated, eyes narrowing. “He could have killed you.”

“I know, I know.” He let his head drop onto his backpack.

“I don’t want to have to shoot him.” She squeezed his hands, and Steve started giggling again.

“Shit, Nancy,” he grinned up, “--what happened to our lives.”

The candles were, as advertised, rank, and Nancy smuggled them to him through the bathroom window as he shielded his face below. “She keeps accusing Dustin of taking them because she knows I hate ‘em,” she stage-whispered down.

“You should spray some of her perfume on him, next time,” Steve whisper-shouted back, and she buried her cackles in her forearm, before leaning out to throw him the bag. When he got home, he realized he didn’t have anything to burn them in that he wasn’t kinda afraid would crack, or catch on fire.

With the promise of singing mice unfulfilled--Rescuers and Secret of NIMH had played through without him reaching more than a light doze, and even his secret weapon, a copy of Cinderella from the mail-in video club, had had no lasting effect--Steve took a hot shower. Heat sometimes worked, though by the time he was drowsy the hot water heater was choking out its last burst of relaxation. The chill startled him into opening his eyes, rubbing his face, and scooting to turn off the water before yawning into a slump against the still-warm tiles. Just as his eyes started to drift closed again, he blinked alert to a crash outside--glass, it sounded like, against the house.

He went alert like an herbivore, body still, ears straining, before catching a tuneless yell. “Billy,” he groaned, rubbing his face again. “I was almost asleep, Billy Hargrove.” At the sound of a second crash, he flapped a hand out along the wall and yanked a towel down on his head. The air of his bedroom was frigid compared to the bathroom steam, and he stopped, shaking his head, then looped the towel up with his elbow and scrubbed it at his hair. He sighed. He could hear the beat of a car radio, and muffled shouting. The window was reluctant to open, but Steve was vaguely glad he hadn’t hurried to the front door, because Billy Hargrove had a six-pack labeled ‘Bud Lite’ on his hood, and he was hucking beer bottles at the door. “Billy!” he yelled.

Billy staggered against his car, fumbling with what looked like a rag in the top of the bottle. It flamed up.

“Fucking Christ,” Steve groaned, letting his head drop against the sill. “Hargrove!”

Billy swung to look around in a circle, dropped the flaming beer bottle (it went out), fell against his own car, and slid down to sit against the tire, wiping his nose against his wrist. “Fuck you, Harrington,” he yelled, fumbling to pick up the bottle. “Fuck you! King! King...Harrington!” It’d rolled against his foot well within reach, but using the fingers provided at the end of his arms seemed to be presenting a challenge.

“It’s two o’clock in the morning,” Steve shouted, then shut the window, shivering. He huddled himself in the towel. Another bottle crashed against the side of the house as he stumbled over the office chair on the way to the stairs, and Billy yelled some more, and then Steve opened the door. He slammed it shut again against another flying bottle.

He began composing an explanation to Nancy in his head. It was sleep deprivation. When I see him, my body knows if there were predators around he’d have been eaten, I think.

The doorknob rattled. “Lemme in, Harrington!” Another impact shook the door as the phone started ringing. Steve’s hair dripped freezing cold water into his ear, so he began drying it, wandering over toward the phone.

“Heard a call over the radio about your place,” Hopper’s voice sounded too awake for the hour. Steve stepped around the corner, yanking the cord so it whipped into the front room, in hopes Hopper wouldn’t be able to hear the yelling at the door.

“Sorry?” Steve tried. “Everything’s fine.” Everything was, was the thing, the adrenaline had cleared his head, his lungs were working like a well-tended racecar, and Billy was unlikely to set anything on fire with a Molotov cocktail made of Bud Lite.

“Your neighbour Ms. Williams saw flames,” Hopper waited, and Steve grimaced.

“I’ll have to apologize for waking her up.”

“Heard crashing, too.”

Handily the door was thick. Steve cupped his hand around the phone and his mouth, trying to keep the handset from picking up Billy’s screams. “Everything’s fine here, but if it’s going to get quieter, I really need to go,” he tried, gritting his teeth as it went briefly quiet outside, before there was another crash.

“Kid,” Hopper sighed. “They’re sending a car by.”

“Shit,” Steve said into the handset, hung up, stared at it in horror, and ran to the door. Maybe Dustin could relay apologies through Eleven. He yanked it open. “Billy, for chrissake--”

Billy squinted at him.

“Beer doesn’t burn, asshole,” Steve told him. “Though since you haven’t figured that out, maybe I shouldn’t tell you, you might try again. What the hell are you doing?!”

“Naked,” Billy snorted. The bottle he’d dropped rolled against his foot, and he very slowly lifted his foot to let it roll under his car. “You...you’re.”

“Yeah, man, you didn’t exactly call ahead.”

Billy tried to push up off the car and stand, staggered, and caught himself against the side mirror. “I stole Carol’s tequila,” he stage-whispered, snickering, and Steve groaned as he tucked the towel around his waist.

“I’m glad you didn’t set that on fire. Somebody called the sheriff, you moron, are you here to…fight me?”

“No,” Billy shook his head, and grabbed at the door of his car as his knees bent. “No. Jus’ hate you. Fuckhead. Harrington. You--you got that bat behind the door. Bastard.”

“I don’t, but--” Steve watched Billy trying to get the lighter back into his jacket. “How’d you make it here alive.” Steve started to step outside, and Billy held up a hand.

“Glass,” Billy walked around his car with a steadying hand on the hood to reach in and turn off the engine. “...’s broken. Glass.”

“Yeah, gee, Billy,” Steve yawned, leaning in the doorway. “How’d that get there. It sure is a mystery. If you try and drive you’re gonna kill somebody.”

“Yeah,” Billy laughed, letting himself fall against the hood. “I never wear a seatbelt. Want me gone?” He grinned over, slowly leaning back so his jacket fell open. “Kiss me an’ tell me to go off the road, Herring. Harrington.” He started giggling. “Just hold my head--back--and tip the tequila in, you. You fuck.”

“Billy,” Steve hissed. “The police are coming, get in here.”

“...glass everywhere.” Billy wove his way over, stopping to rub his face and stare at the step up to Steve’s door. “King Harrington.”

“Get in here,” Steve waited, letting his head fall sideways to press against the edge of the door. He let go as Billy reached the door, scrabbled at it, and it swung shut. Steve yanked it open again just as Billy fell against it, half-catching him as his head slammed into the knob. “...jesus, Billy, you alive?”

“Shit,” Billy curled in on himself, and Steve hauled him inside by his denim collar. “Fuck, jesus, Harrington--”

“There were headlights--somebody called the police,” Steve said, batting Billy’s hands away, trying to see whether the blow had drawn blood. “I just--just needed to get you inside--”

“That for throwing bottles?” Billy kept grabbing at Steve’s hands, trying to stop him from checking the point of impact with the doorknob. “It’s fine, I’m sorry, Harrington, shit--” he held his arms up between them, trembling. “I get it, you fucking asshole, you fucking--”

“You fell into the door, dipshit,” Steve yelled back.

Billy started giggling into the floor. “Barefoot,” he whispered. “Barefoot King Harrington.”

“I tried to catch your drunk ass!” Steve shoved him further across the floor into the kitchen, and Billy slapped his hands on the floor to brake. “I didn’t slam your head into the knob, Hargrove.” He let himself slide to the floor next to the denim menace, face against the linoleum. Billy’s breath smelled like tequila.

“Soooo sorry I threw bottles at your pretty house,” Billy whispered back, lowering his arms to wipe blood away from his right eye. “Where’s the bat, you asshole. Shithead.”

“Why the hell were you throwing bottles at my house, dipshit?” Steve reached over to thumb another trickle of blood off Billy’s cheek.

Billy flinched back and grabbed his hand, twining their fingers. “...Tommy showed up.”

Steve rolled to his back, sniggering, staring at the ceiling. “So was it a party, or like a mutual belt-notching--”

“’Gives a shit. Come on, Harrington.” Billy kissed Steve’s captive hand. His lips were warm and soft, and Steve groaned, rubbing his face with the hand Billy wasn’t imitating fellatio on. His tongue was incredibly distracting, supple and hot and wet, and Steve could feel his dick starting to prop up his towel.

“Hargrove.” Steve rolled to face him again, partially to hide his tent. “C’mon. What’s going on?”

“You suck,” Billy grinned back, dissolving into giggles again. “I could suck.”

“Are you high,” Steve sighed. “Don’t answer that. Come on, budd-uh, Billy.”

“Yeah,” Billy let himself get hauled to his feet, stumbling toward the couch.

Steve pulled Billy’s hand from where it’d slid up his thigh under the towel. “Come on, you’re bleeding. Lie down.” Billy tried to pull him down, patting clumsily at Steve’s naked chest and shoulders. “No, come on, just lie back, I’ll be right back--”

When Steve ran off upstairs to grab the first aid kit, Billy yelled more slurred insults and apologies after him, and Steve pressed his face into his pillow for a long second and whined. He glared down at his crotch. Think less about his tongue and more about the blood running down his face, he thought at his dick, then sighed. “Also remember he just tried to set my house on fire with beer and lost a fight with my doorknob.” His dick was mildly discouraged by these truths. Before running back downstairs--Billy had started singing his name as the lyrics to ‘My Sharona’, so it didn’t seem urgent-- he kicked his wet towel off. After a moment of thought, he grabbed a second sweatshirt for Billy. “Steve Har-ring-ton~” warbled from below.

When he got back downstairs, Billy was on the floor by the TV pulling videocassettes off the shelves, the discards forming a wall around him. “Haunted car,” he muttered, shoulders hunching as Steve walked back in. “What’s this say?”

“God, you’re so drunk. Come on, lie down, you’re shaking.” Steve dropped to lean against him, sliding an arm around Billy’s tight shoulders. He tugged the videotape out of Billy’s hand, leaning in to lick his ear when Billy wouldn’t let go.

Billy went still, staring back.

“Christine? It’s a stupid movie,” Steve warned, raising his eyebrows. “You’ll love the car--”

Billy drug him closer by the front of his sweatshirt. Steve blinked, swallowing, but tilted his head into the open-mouthed kisses Billy pressed across his face. Piled videos fell as Steve swung his leg over Billy’s lap, sliding his hand up into Billy’s hair on the side he wasn’t bleeding.

“You’re still bleeding, babe,” he ran his fingers through Billy’s curls, pulling him close to breathe against his collar. “Come up on the couch. I’ll clean you up.”

“Not your ‘babe’,” Billy leaned in for another kiss, “--you still pretending I’m Lady Nancy?”

“There’s a position as Queen open,” Steve offered, anticipating the elbow-in-the-gut-shove combo. He snickered, watching Billy wobble to his feet and stalk off to the couch. “I dunno, you’re practically twins and all. Not really used to kissing somebody I wouldn’t date.”

“Just--just attacked your castle, Majesty--” Billy leaned his face into the back of the couch, huffing a laugh, and Steve wandered over. He picked up the aid kit. “I can. I c’n leave. Park somewhere. Sleep it off. Now say sorry.”

“Noooope, what the hell, you're such an asshole.” Steve scooted close, but let Billy see him put his hand up to inspect the damage.

Billy shuddered at his touch, but leaned into it, letting his eyes slide closed. “...says you.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re great, we should definitely trade letter sweaters and share milkshakes,” Steve snorted, running his thumb over Billy’s cheek. “Just a second. Blood’s getting all in your hair, I’m gonna--” He pressed a wad of gauze to it, guiding Billy to lie down with his head in Steve’s lap.

“Wha’s happening.” Billy cleared his throat, sliding his hand under his head to brush most of his mullet out from under his head.

“I think it’s mostly a bruise,” Steve pulled his attention away from the length of Billy’s eyelashes and surveyed him with the knowledge he, Jonathan, and Nancy had gained by frantically cramming first aid books over winter break. “I’ll keep pressure on it until it stops bleeding.”

“Fuck do you care, you’re such a prick,” Billy muttered into his sweatpant leg.

“You’re in my lap, dipshit, what are you even talking about,” Steve ignored the phone ringing again.

Billy tried to bite his thigh through his jeans. “Harrington, you--fucking fucker.”

“Are you actually mad at me? Because you rammed your head into my door, not me--” Steve ran his fingers through the unbloodied sections of Billy’s hair, feeling him scoot closer. “I can’t even tell, stop grinning! You tried to set my house on fire, and I’m like ‘What happened, Carol run out of wine coolers?’”

“Fuck you,” Billy choked, punching his leg again. Drunk as he was, it didn’t particularly hurt. “She said you were coming.”

“That’s weird as hell--hey, hey hey hey--” Steve pressed more gauze over where it had shifted, ignoring the phone ringing again. Billy muttered something, turning his head against Steve’s sweatshirt, and Steve’s mouth dropped open. “Are you--are you chanting ‘I hate you’?! After you come over here, you--I’m not forgetting about the fire--which you suck at--”

“Fuck you, I do, I hate you,” Billy whispered thickly, trying to bat Steve’s arm away before resting his own arm across it to hide his face. “So much, fuck you, just--just die, you fucking--bitch bastard--”

“Shit! Shit, don’t--” Steve bit his lips together. If I say ‘don’t cry,’ he’ll turn this whole house into a mushroom cloud. He let his fingers slide around the back of Billy’s skull, pulling him in close, and the soft shaking and sniffles got louder until Billy punched the back of the couch a few times to drown them out. “Hey,” Steve tried again, when Billy’s breath was evening out, and he kinda wanted him to come up to blow his nose. “What happened. Did your dad--”

“She’s not dead,” Billy punched his leg again. “It was all--it was true. He told me…” Beginning to feel bruised, Steve felt his eyes narrow, considering just dumping Billy in Hopper’s yard with a bow around his upper torso. “She’s--she’s not dead, I thought he--he said she left. Kept telling dumbshit Billy she left. I thought no way she’d fucking just--just leave me there, she wouldn’t--she’s my mom--”

“...oh, oh shit, oh fuck,” Steve breathed, feeling his eyes go wide.

“I thought--he kept--thought he killed her,” Billy punched the back of the couch again, without much leverage since his knees were drawn up. “I’m so fucking dumb. I just…”

“She left him and you,” Steve said, aloud, like a genius, and Billy’s shoulders started shaking again.

“Sh-shut your fucking face, Steve,” he hissed. “She fucking... walked away. I keep thinking she didn’t know, right? Maybe he wasn’t like that before. Then I fucking came along.” Billy’s fingers slid under Steve’s shirt, but he was grabbing fistfuls of fabric. “This fucking idiot kid, fucking faggot piece of shit Billy Hargrove, she just--didn’t--she wanted a kid but not--”

“Jesus,” Steve leaned to look at the clock, and added another wad of gauze where red was seeping through.

“Just that--that fucking--he never hits Max-- she took a good look at this stupid little cunt and left town--”

“You’re not,” Steve said, clenching his jaw. “Shut up, no, that’s not--jesus, Billy--”

“Then she knew, fuckhead,” Billy smacked the couch again, “--she knew he’d--she knew what he’d--but it was me so she didn’t give a shit, she probably just--couldn’t wait ‘til I caught the bus--counting the minutes, is he fucking gone yet? Never have to see his face again--”

“No, I just mean, yeah, you’re Billy Hargrove--”

“Shut the fuck up, King Harrington--” Billy tried to shove away, punching his arm, and Steve caught him around the shoulders and braced them both against the floor with his legs.

“No! No, Billy, listen, c’mon, you are a--just--a complete piece of shit, but you’re a person, you don’t--nobody deserves that. I just meant--I’m sorry, jesus--” Billy was half sliding onto the floor, but he submitted to being hauled mostly against Steve’s shoulder, his forearm covering his wet laughter. “He didn’t just start that--bullshit because you’re you, she didn’t do--do whatever shit because you’re just--I mean, you’re garbage, but you’re a human being--”

Billy’s giggles sounded wet. “Yeah, right, genius,” he sniffled. “--I fucking know I’m trash, asshole--”

“But you’re a person, you were a little kid, right, she wouldn’t--”

“I’m a garbage person,” Billy laughed harder. “Garbage Pail Kid. They shoulda just taken me to the pound.”

Steve honestly couldn’t tell whether he was arguing or not, and suspected Billy didn’t know either. Just as he opened his mouth to point out that 100% of humans had been pissed off at children and most had managed not to belt them across the face, there was the beep of a siren pulse in the drive. Steve grabbed Billy’s hand and made him hold his own gauze, scooting out to run to the door. “Stay quiet,” he called back over his shoulder. “I’ll get rid of them, but they can’t see you.” Billy snorted loud enough to carry to the door, and Steve rolled his eyes as he unlocked it, squinting out into the flashlight of one of the deputies.

“We got a noise complaint,” the man called, slowly crunching across the snow-covered glass. “Mind turning on the porch light?”

“We just have the motion detectors,” Steve blocked the door, smiling. “Sorry. Drunk friend showed up. He’s passed out, noise is over.”

“Lot of broken glass out here. Your friend wouldn’t happen to be Billy Hargrove, would he?” Steve heard a soft “Fuck,” from the living room, and braced himself in the door. “We got a call saying he was drunk and disorderly. Is that blood on your face, Mr. Harrington?”

“It’s really late,” Steve felt his smile going stiff. “I’ve got school tomorrow. Everything’s fine. Can I go back to bed now?”

“I’d feel more comfortable if I had a look around,” the deputy aimed the flashlight into the room behind Steve, and Steve sent a prayer up to God or aliens that Billy wouldn’t be looming behind him, blood dripping from his hair, his eyes gleaming in the light.

“Uh, no,” Steve’s lungs, finally showing up for work, were making up the time, and he gripped the frame of the door on both sides to keep his hands from shaking. Hopper is gonna shoot me in both feet, he thought, but he was also fairly sure he didn’t want to turn Billy in for assault on his house with a weaponized six pack of Bud Lite, and have his front room turn into the Tet Offensive when a hapless sheriff’s deputy tried to arrest a crying, drunken Billy Hargrove. “It won’t happen again. Thank you for coming out, but I’d really like to get to sleep.”

After a couple more refusals--Steve stopped fearing Hopper’s disapproval, he found, when he had to shout at the man to get him to leave--he finally closed the door again on the receding taillights of the police cruiser, and returned to kneel on the floor next to the couch.

“You just got in a fight with a sheriff’s deputy.” Billy’s mouth was quirked. “Why--?”

“You ever hit Max?” Steve asked over him.

“Not...really.” Billy frowned, and winced.

“Have you ever intentionally hurt Max, Hargrove, it’s not a complicated question.” Steve rubbed his face, leaning his back against the couch and staring at Billy’s ring of movies.

“...I won’t,” Billy’s breathing had gone shallow, “--I won’t, Harrington, fuck, don't--”

The phone rang again.

“Because you know who hits kids is your fuckhead dad,” Steve ignored it, “--and you went straight for Lucas--”

“Fuck you, Harrington, I’m not my dad, shut up,” Billy flailed, and Steve grabbed his wrists, pressing the gauze back down. It wasn’t difficult. Billy’s skin was pale and sweaty, and Steve took a look at his fixed grin and reddened eyes and sighed, burying his head in the seat cushion.

The phone rang again, and Steve let Billy’s wrists go, stomped over, and unplugged it, before returning to frown at the gauze, and unroll some fresh. “Even if you’re pissed at me. Don’t take a swing at a person. Come…” he snorted. “Chuck bottles at my house, I guess.”

“What,” Billy sounded hoarse.

“Come on.”

“I’m not my dad, you fuck. I’m not gonna throw bottles at your house.”

Steve raised his eyebrows, slowly turning to look at the front door.

“Fuck you,” Billy curled up tighter.

“Come on, babe-buddy. If you get mad, I’ll--we can play a half-court game, or something. Come get me.”

“Fuck it out of me,” Billy snorted, grinning at him, and Steve took a deep breath, trying not to imagine grabbing Billy earlier that day, and slamming him back into the lockers before he stomped out into the hallway. Grabbing him by the hair and kissing him until he went warm and pliable.

“Jesus, Hargrove.” He let his head thump Billy’s shoulder, feeling him laugh.

“Should find a girlfriend who doesn’t care if I suck you off behind the gym,” Billy whispered in his ear. “Carol thinks it’s hot.”

Steve stared at him. “You told her? That--that you want to--”

“Fuck no. I asked about you and Tommy, she said she could take us all.”

“Tommy’d beat your--nah, you could take him.” Steve ran his knuckles over Billy’s abs, sliding up under the jacket where Billy’s ribs were damp and cold with blood loss.

“I could take him.” Billy grinned, his teeth bloody.

“I wouldn’t date somebody else and fuck you.” Steve wrinkled his nose, and Billy reached out for a handful of his sweatshirt again, pulling him in to smell blood and tequila.

“It’s just dumpsters back there,” Billy whispered against his mouth. “Just garbage.”

“Christ, babe,” Steve kissed back, his stomach clenching. He pulled back, and Billy’s arm slammed into his hands, knocking them away.

“Fuck you, Ha--”

Steve slapped his hand over Billy’s mouth again, trying to string words together. “You’re not gonna hurt anybody, right?”

The couch squeaked as Billy punched his wrist again, growling, his eyes tearing up, but Steve held his head. “Shake your head or nod. Yeah. Okay.”

Billy’s eyes narrowed.

“Just wait a second, listen. You’ll come to me if you’re feeling like--” he risked letting go to wave at the door, and Billy closed his eyes. “Billy. Come on. Even if I’m who you’re mad at.”

Billy nodded shortly, swallowing.

“Okay,” Steve took a deep breath. “Then you’re not a garbage asshole. You’re gonna try.” He kept his hand over Billy’s loud snort. “Right? You’re good.”

Billy smacked his hand away. “I’m good.”

“You’ll get better. You won’t be fucking--trash, like your dad.”

“You don’t fucking think that.” Billy’s voice was hoarse. “Shut the fuck up, you’d fucking beat my face in--”

“I’m serious, you suck because you’re an asshole, nobody’s born--”

“You don’t fucking have to tell me this shit,” Billy pulled away, pressing the gauze to his head so he could sit up. “I’ll...I’ll fucking be a good boy, you won’t have to hit me in the face with the nailbat. You coulda just.” He laughed, leaning his head against Steve’s shoulder.

“Just what,” Steve leaned his head against Billy’s.

“Fuck you,” Billy sighed, and Steve echoed it.

“I’m just saying. You can’t have been born a shitheel.”

“Try me,” Billy snorted.

“Look, if any kid’s that much of an annoying little shit I’d’ve murdered one by now,” Steve whispered into Billy’s hair, prompting a snicker. “I’ve saved them from--the--and that little bastard Mike still looks at me like I should be fired from life. If I was gonna beat on a kid, their heads would look like cranberry salad. ”

“What’d you save ‘em from, Steve Harrington,” BIlly slurred, and Steve smacked his own face.

“My point is, if you don’t hit kids, you don’t fucking hit kids.”

Billy blew his nose in Steve’s sweatshirt, and Steve yelped, grabbing a throw pillow and smacking him in the butt with it.

Billy cackled. “...you wanna hit this instead?” He shoved the gauze away, sitting up to turn a slow grin on Steve that had his pants feeling tighter, and a tingle running down his spine. Billy leaned in, sliding his arms around Steve’s neck, and smelling like tequila and aftershave. For once, he didn’t taste like cigarettes. His face was wet and salty, and warm, and smooth-shaven, and Steve lost track of words for a few seconds kissing it. “We could fuck,” Billy whispered into his kisses. “Right now. You can’t even hurt me right now.” He slid off the couch to straddle Steve’s lap, nearly falling off and braining himself further on the coffee table.

Steve grappled him back upright. “What the hell. Shut up, Billy, lie back down--”

“I’ve done it before,” Billy rocked against his lap. His ass was warm and heavy with muscle in his tight jeans, and Steve lost all power of thought. Billy kept whispering against his neck. “I’m feeling no pain, Stevey, I’m so numb.” He bit at Steve’s lips, his breaths coming quick. “I’ll be so good for you, Majesty. S’tight in there, doesn’t get much traffic. Nothing like it.”

“God--” Steve snorted, clapping his mouth shut before the ‘--no, what the fuck, what do you mean you’re numb,’ escaped into the air, pretty certain he needed to actually think about what he said before Billy Hargrove broke his jaw, stomped his drunk ass outside, and drove into a tree. Billy’s hair felt drippingly wet, and he jerked his hand back. “Goddamn, you’re bleeding everywhere. Come on, man, lay back down.”

“You fucking want to,” Billy snarled, grabbing the front of Steve’s pants, and yanking on his zipper.

Steve grabbed his hands. “Fucking hell, Hargrove--”

“Come on, I’m cold, ” Billy kissed him again, trying to jerk his arms out of Steve’s grip, “--c’mon, pretty boy--” He leaned in as much as he could with all their arms between them. “Your hands are warm. S’just your dick in a tight hole, doesn’t make you a fa--”

“Jesus, Hargrove--” Steve kissed him back, licking into Billy’s mouth every time he drew breath to talk. He started tasting blood, a little tang at the edge of his mouth, then sticky down the side of his face, then dripping down his chin. “Billy Hargrove. We gotta stop the bleeding.”

Billy laughed, curling into him, his muscles soft the way they went when Steve grabbed his hair.

Steve shivered, carefully letting go. He’d squeezed handprints into Billy’s forearms. Like he was making out with Sylvester Stallone again, he thought, biting his lips. “Lie down, babe,” he leaned to grab the gauze. “I’ll keep pressure on it, and we can do whatever when you’re not bleeding out from a head wound.”

“Keep calling me cute names,” Billy muttered. “You dumbshit. I’m not your girlfriend. ”

“Nooooo...” Steve stepped to the other end of the couch, not trusting Billy Hargrove’s head in his lap facing his dick. He beckoned him down, layering gauze in his hand. “Sorry. Dickhead.”

Once the bleeding finally had really, truly stopped, Billy scrambled away from his lap, stomping over to the magic circle of videos and tossing Christine.

“You just want me to put it on so you can steal the best seat,” Steve rolled his eyes, and sure enough, once the previews started, his corner spot was taken. He dropped against Billy’s side. Billy’s hair felt crispy with blood as Steve slid an arm around him. “You sure you don’t want a shower?”

Billy shook his head, closing his eyes, and Steve got up to get him some aspirin.

Steve snickered through Christine, grinning when he caught Billy watching him. “What?”

“Nothing.” Billy drained his beer can, and began prying off the tab.

Onscreen, the haunted ‘57 Plymouth was gnashing its hood, and Steve let his head fall against Billy’s shoulder, closing his eyes.

“Harrington.” Billy elbowed him.

“Mmm...” Steve scooted away to lie down, politely ignoring Billy’s weird swallowed choke.

“King Steve,” Billy hissed. “Your Majesty. Get your head out of my lap.”

“Nuh,” Steve rolled his eyes, “--get over it.” He fell into a light doze when Billy didn’t shove him off, waking to fingers prodding his head.

“...movie’s over,” Billy slurred, half-asleep, and still drunk.

“Fix it,” Steve mumbled, shrugging, and turning his head away from the light and sound to bury his face against Billy’s stomach. The denim was uncomfortable, so he burrowed in against the smooth abs, wondered whether they were damp from his breath, or if Billy was still cold-sweating with tension, and kissed them open-mouthed before licking across with the full width of his tongue. Billy shouted “Fuck” a few times in a high wheezy voice, and shoved Steve’s head, scrabbling sideways over the arm of the couch.

“Fucking Harrington Steve fuck,” Billy swayed, panting, his arms folded over his stomach, “--what the hell.”

Steve felt like he hadn’t slept in a year, which made everything funnier. “You’re salty,” he sniggered, half off the couch, and shoved himself back up, his flailing foot thudding against the floor.

“Shut up.” Billy sidled around the couch and clicked rewind, his face lighting with the black and white noise of a disconnected TV.

“Ants,” Steve muttered into the pillows. “How come you can kiss me.”

“Shut it, Harrington,” Billy knelt to frown at the shelf of movies. “What’s this. Alien?”

“S’good,” Steve sighed, rolling on to his back to frown at the ceiling.

Alien did not lend itself to another nap. As soon as the room lit with blue light, Steve could feel the hair on his arms rising. The passages in the ship were white, and shiny, but the mysterious creatures and the blue had him up off the couch, pulling off his bloodied sweatshirt. “I need to go have a look around.” He tossed the shirt, ignoring Billy’s head cock. There was a scrabbling behind him and the TV switched off.

“What are you doing?” Billy followed him into the garage, chugging the last of his can of beer.

“It’s fine, you should stay.” The sound of Billy crushing the can against the unbloodied side of his head brought him back, a bit, and he came over. “...you look like I hit you with the bat.”

“Who cares,” Billy grinned at him.

“Go put that sweatshirt on,” Steve pointed, taking a deep breath of Eau de Drunk Billy and feeling himself smile. “There’s snow, man, c’mon.”

“Yeah, mom.”

It was snowing again, making Steve’s skin prickle at the lightly falling fluff in the dim bluish light, but Billy bumped their shoulders, and Steve leaned in to kiss his face, twining their fingers together.

“What.” Billy pulled away, unzipping the sweatshirt--it had blood on it, Steve realized, Billy’d grabbed the one he'd discarded, not the clean one--and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. Steve circled him to zip it up, but Billy frowned, turning away. His lighter was flicking too fast, and Steve dropped the bat, sliding his arms around Billy from behind to zip up the sweatshirt. Billy’s ear was hot against his cheek, and Steve dodged away from his flailed smack, laughing. He swiveled back when Billy started coughing after a drag on his cigarette.

“You okay over there?”

“Lemme alone,” he coughed again, bending to brace himself against his knees. “Just swallowed wrong. Somebody. Somebody hugged me. What. What are you,” he flapped a hand and Steve took it, grinning. “What was that. I’m up now, give my hand back.”

“I’ll hold it.” Breath billowed as Steve grinned back at him.

“We’re outside,” Billy hissed.

“I only have one neighbor,” Steve kicked the handle of the bat back up and grabbed it. “That smells nothing like a tunnel.”

“What?!”

“You smell good,” Steve pulled him close, breathing in his hair.

“Shut up,” Billy snorted. “I fucking don’t, stop lying.”

“You know that’s the sweatshirt you blew your nose in,” Steve bumped his shoulder, and Billy glared, then spat to the side.

They crunched through the snow all the way around the house to the edge of the woods, Billy lighting cigarettes serially partly because they were warm. “What are we even looking for,” he asked again, and Steve shrugged, squeezing his hand.

“Not a damn thing, really, just makes me feel better.”

The small house on the way to Steve’s was entirely lit up. Resonant barking shook the door. Once they’d climbed the steps, Steve pushed Billy behind him, feeling him go stiff again. After a few rounds of thumping, the door opened on a slow-moving woman with a cane, a huge smile, and white curly buns on the sides of her head. She clasped Steve’s pale hand in both her gnarled brown ones, and then pulled him in for a hug.

“I’m fine, Ms. Williams.” He patted her back, waving over her shoulder to one of several pitbulls.

“What on earth,” she whispered, then saw Billy as Steve stepped out of the way. “Good heavens. Is this your boyfriend?” Her eyebrows were nearly at her hairline, and Steve tugged Billy close and clapped a hand over his mouth before he got a reply out.

“This is Billy,” Steve used the hand over Billy’s mouth to make him nod, and Billy stomped his foot.

“Is everything...all right?” She narrowed her eyes at their clasped hands, then Billy’s bloody face. “That’s not fresh?”

“He fell.” Steve was bent over one of the dogs, hands under her ears to flap them gently. “He’s not my boyfriend. We didn’t see anything out there tonight.”

“Bless you.” She squeezed his shoulder, eyes narrowed at Billy, who rolled his shoulders, shrugging his charm on like a cape. “I won’t say a word, you know.”

“A pleasure, ma’am, thanks for worrying about this idiot.” Billy nodded politely to the dogs, and Steve snorted. “Let go of my hand,” Billy hissed, but didn’t pull away. “What are you, some kind of suburbian superhero?” He frowned around while she brought over a cut glass bowl of hard candies masquerading as strawberries.

Steve accepted one, locked eyes with Billy, and slid it quickly in his jean pocket. Rolling his eyes, Billy unwrapped his, popping it in his mouth, ignoring Steve’s urgent headshake. Once they accepted, she sat the plate down to pat the pitbulls on either side of her chair.

“I know about the mountain lions, honey,” Ms. Williams said, and Steve nearly crushed Billy’s hand.

“Uh, what?” Steve forced his lungs to laugh, ignoring Billy’s side-eye.

“Your little friend Dustin came by and asked me to keep an eye on you.” She turned her smile on Billy, patting the closest pitbull. “I had to clean up what was left of Sneezy, and Prancer here’s sister Blitzen, after all.” Billy, who’d just stuck candy in his mouth, choked, coughing. “These are Prancer, Florence Ballard, and Diana Ross. I do wish you’d brought the bodies to me, dear, my darling’s work made me a dab hand at taxidermy.”

Prancer wriggled toward Steve on her stomach, and he reached down to stroke her ears. “I mean, I used a nailbat, ma’am.” He kept his eyes on the dog, hoping Billy didn’t choke to death on horrible hard candies. “There wasn’t much left. Uh.” When he glanced up, Mrs. Williams was patting Florence Ballard, and Billy was mouthing furiously at him.

“He also told me about the bus,” Ms. Williams smiled at Steve’s spluttering, and rocked herself upright again. “Would you like some hot chocolate, honey?”

Steve nodded, crawling down half-under the couch to bury his face in Prancer's belly. She was missing a leg after her run-in with the demodogs.

“Oh, that’s from the lions too,” he heard her telling Billy, who sprang up to follow her into the kitchen. Steve breathed in the smell of clean pitbull fur.

When Steve finally lifted his head, unable to relax while Billy received Dustin’s version of events, he sidled up to listen through the door. I bet he told her I had a sword, and swung in with my merry men, on a vine, he thought, leaning his head into the kitchen.

“More marshmallows, and he likes three spoons of instant coffee in there,” Billy was explaining, leaning against the counter to show off his abs and folded biceps, and smirking at her through his lashes. Steve covered his grin, coughing.

“My,” she glanced up, and Steve couldn’t resist stepping up slowly to slide his arms around Billy’s waist.

As expected, he went tense. “Harrington. I think a shard of this candy just punctured my tongue. ”

“I tried to warn you,” Steve whispered, biting his ear gently. “You remember my hot chocolate recipe.”

Billy pushed his face away, and Ms. Williams beamed between them. “Yeah, Steve, I can make hot chocolate. There’s a mix, it’s not hard,” Billy growled under his breath.

“It’s kinda complicated,” Steve whispered in his ear. “Even Dustin doesn’t get it just right.”

“Wow, I can add water,” Billy snorted. “She didn’t even have any candy canes.”

I don’t need them, I have you, Steve thought, aware his smile was getting goofy. He accepted the chocolate, which was exactly correct, and sighed, squeezing Billy against him.

By the time Mrs. Williams had given Steve another tight hug--“Answer your phone, child,” she chastised, and he hunched his shoulders--and they’d began walking home, it was dawn. The snow still looked like the floaty crap in the tunnels. At least the world isn’t blue. Steve stumbled up the steps, unlocking the door, pushing it open, and sitting in it. He let himself fall back, his legs hanging outside in the snow.

Billy snorted, grabbed his hands, and drug him inside, dropping to lie next to him. “Mountain lions,” he said to the ceiling.

“I guess,” Steve sighed, rubbing his face. “Maybe don’t wake her up again, she’s tough, but I think she thought you beat me to death.”

“She thought I was your boyfriend,” Billy snorted. “What the hell. Whatever the hell this is--” he waved at Steve, then the bat, “--you gotta stop touching me. Out there.”

“It’s actually a good story,” Steve rubbed his face. “Reason to be around. Yelling shit.”

“...when did you even sleep last,” Billy tucked his elbow under him, frowning over. “You’re--you’re fucking--hallucinating. If you think telling people that shit is a good idea. How long has it been.”

“In your lap.”

“...for real, fucker, when did you get a night’s sleep, you look like I punched back.”

“...whatever. I don’t know. I’m telling. I’m calling ‘em,” Steve started crawling on his elbows, and Billy grabbed his arm.

“You are tripping balls...you should stay home,” Billy pressed a hand to Steve’s forehead, squinting in the light from the door. “Maybe you’re sick.”

At the feeling of Billy trying to take his temperature, Steve had started giggling. “Okay, okay. Fine.”

“...do you want a ride to school? You shouldn’t drive,” Billy asked, staring towards the phone.

“...I dunno, are we both gonna die?” Steve looked over. “Are you sobered up enough?”

“I gotta pick Max up anyway,” Billy leaned over, letting his head rest against Steve’s chest. “Had a beer like...two hours ago.” He sighed. “Feel like I’m gonna fuckin’ die, actually.”

Steve snorted, sliding his hand down Billy’s spine. “You kinda smell like it.”

“Fuck you,” Billy mumbled into his chest.

“But yeah, I’ll take a ride. We can keep each other awake.”

“I’d kill God for some sunglasses,” Billy groaned.

“Didn’t know you needed a reason.” Steve checked the kitchen clock before letting his eyes slide shut.

Twenty-three minutes later, his alarm went off upstairs, and Billy curled into a fetal ball of muttered profanity before staggering to the bathroom. He didn’t latch the door, so the sound of vomiting came through clearly. Steve slowly rolled onto his face, then clambered to his hands and knees. Sometimes I’d rather not have a body. Or a head. He winced at Billy’s loud gagging. Given the kissing options right now, floating around like Casper seems like a great idea. He leaned on a chair and pushed himself upright, stretching his back slowly in case something broke off. When nothing did, he wandered out to the front room and plugged the phone back in. It rang not three minutes later.

“Harrington residence,” he sighed, leaning his head against the wall.

“We’ve been called by the police.”

“I know, sorry, everything’s fine.”

“This is the third incident.”

Steve walked back around the wall, leaning to see the bathroom door, then shrugged. “Actually my boyfriend just freaked out, we’d had a fight, he’ll be over a lot, the water bill might go up?”

The other end was silent.

“Bye,” Steve hung up, turning away from the wall to see Billy leaning in the entryway.

“What the hell did you just do.” His voice was hoarse.

“I probably have a spare toothbrush,” Steve put a hand on each of his shoulders and walked him back to the bathroom, “--I didn’t say it was you.”

“What the fuck.” Billy wiped his mouth, sitting on the toilet.

“Now if you’re here all the time, there’s a good reason.”

“It’s not even true,” Billy allowed his fingers to be pressed around the toothbrush, “--you’ll...what about school. You’re gonna…”

“Nobody’ll know. Come on, we gotta go.”

When they pulled up at Billy’s house, Max drug Steve out of the car and most of the way through a shrubbery. “Are you okay,” she whispered. “Nobody could reach you. I could cut his brake cables.”

“Jesus,” Steve patted her hand where she’d clenched it in his jacket. “Uh, no, it’s fine?”

“El heard police calls on the scanner. She said they mentioned a fire.”

“Sorry.” Steve tugged at his jacket. “We’re both okay.”

“He slammed my head into a door,” Billy said from a few feet away, and Max let go, glaring.

“Sounds like you deserved it.”

“You fell! He was drunk,” Steve turned to Max. “He gashed his head on the doorknob. I tried to catch him!”

“If he’d done it on purpose he’d brag, fuckhead.” Max shoulder checked Billy on the way to the car, and he pressed the heel of his hand to his head, setting his jaw.

Once they were in the car, Billy glanced between them, and turned down the volume on Rock You Like A Hurricane. “So,” he smirked at Max in the rearview mirror, “--Mountain lions?”

“What?” she snapped back.

Steve reclined his seat, nearly crushing her as she scrambled away. “Dustin told Mrs. Williams we fought mountain lions.”

“That’s stu--” she coughed as Steve widened his eyes at her. “Uh. Whatever, I don’t care.”

“So." Billy ran his fingers through his hair, and Max snorted. “Not mountain lions, then.”

“Fuck off,” she muttered, scooting down in the seat. “God, you reek.”

“What happened in the bus?” Billy slid a cigarette out of his jacket.

“Jesus,” Steve hugged his backpack to cover his face.

“Your mom made you in a bus,” Max muttered, and Billy swerved. Steve swung over and grabbed the wheel, punching Billy in the shoulder and Max in the knee with his other hand.

“Don’t kill us. Christ.”

“What does this have to do with how I ended up in the trunk.” Billy smiled at Max in the rearview mirror, and she kicked his seat.

“Seriously!” Steve punched Billy’s shoulder again. “I don’t wanna die. Just drive.”

Billy cranked the music back up, lighting the cigarette, his face set. They hadn’t even stopped pulling in in front of the school before Max had the door open, and Steve reached over to slide his thumb under Billy’s cuff.

“Shit. I told Hopper I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

Billy shrugged, grinning at him as Max stalked around to start bodily dragging Steve out of the car. To Steve’s bewilderment, Eleven stood by to slide into his place. She had a big pink bow in her curls and a matching dress, but her face had the flat stare he remembered from first meeting her. Mike slid in behind her, and Billy looked from Eleven to Steve, somewhere between entertained and pissed off. “What the?” he mouthed, spreading his hands.

Max slammed the car door, dragging Steve by the elbow into the first classroom off the middle school hallway.

“What’s going on,” he asked Dustin, who shook his head, shoving him at a chair.

“Steve, you’ve gone insane.”

“It’s an intervention,” said Lucas, folding his arms.

Steve had his eyes on the windows watching Eleven in the car with Billy and Mike. Billy was listening, as far as he could tell, cigarette out the window. Glancing up to meet his eyes, Billy backed out of the parking space, and left the school.

Strangest chapter 1/chapter 2/chapter 3/chapter 4/chapter 5/chapter 6/chapter 7/chapter 8/chapter 9/chapter 10/ ALSO I am having a hard time editing these links into chapters 4-10 so...maybe leave this open in a tab...or something...I’m sorry I fail at Tumblr

Really I’d recommend reading it on Ao3 under peterqpan, scrolling through it on Tumblr sounds crazymaking XD Thank you for reading this far!

#Harringrove #platypan #platypan fic #Strangest #Steve's kids keep kidnapping people #Billy specifically #Steve wants to run away with Billy himself

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tellywoodtrash · 5 years

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Sanjivani - Weeks 7 + 8

Overall Plot

Sid and Ishani are about 10 minutes away from hardcore Love. And literally every single person knows and is rooting for it (including the security guards at Sanjivani/Ishani’s apartment complex!!!!!), except the two idiots themselves. Shashank is still dealing with the fallout of the thing with Juhi and the admin issues stemming from their unresolved issues, but small mercies, his relationship with Anjali seems to be looking up. Nurse Philo's daughter Jessica has been admitted mere days before her wedding and found to have a terminal illness and it's heartbreaking as fuck.

The Medical Stuff

Lol, does Ishani's "sickness" count? She's pretty convinced that she's dying of something serious, the way she was charting her symptoms and kept getting diagnostic test after diagnostic test, so I think it should. Glad she's finally gotten a diagnosis and the prognosis looks promising! Other than that, Nandini got operated on successfully by the Shashank-Juhi team, and the only active case we have is Jessica's Stage IV cancer. But I think that's going to focus more on the emotional side of things (getting her the dream wedding she wants), since it's at such an advanced stage that it wouldn't respond to treatment anyway.

The Acting

Thank the lord above, they have started giving Surbhi comedy to do, which is where she really shines as an actor. Namit is most excellent at heart eyes, and his crying has improved from the first few weeks; dialogue delivery still needs to be more polished though. Jason and Kunal are being used effectively by giving them hilarious, snarky scenes while they drill some sense into Ishani/Sid. Robin is still pretty much in the background other than to pop up and deliver the occasional wisecrack. Very sad to see Rashmi go, she'd really won my heart as Asha. The seniors got to ease up on the angsty scenes these weeks and I'm grateful for that; it's nice to see them loosen up a bit and smile and joke around. Special mention to Vedika Bhandari as Jessica, who's just ridiculously adorable and sooooooo likable, that I already am having trouble at the thought of letting her character go.

The Characters

Sid: MY DUDES, I DID NOT EXPECT TO FALL THIS HARD FOR SIDDHANT FUCKING MATHUR, BUT WELP, HERE WE ARE. I honestly cannot believe that this boy exists on Tellywood. Where to even start with him in these two weeks? How much younger than his years he seems when he was imploring his mom to stay to meet Shashank; his heart eyes when he wakes up to see Ishani first thing next morning (after waiting to see her the whole night!!!); his bashfulness at all the love he's getting from the whole hospital staff; his good-natured humoring of Ishani's weird behaviour... He's just so unassuming and Soft. I can't really recall seeing this lovable a male lead in tellywood in forever (all I can think of is Hussain K. characters in the early 2000s, in Krishna Arjun and Kumkum and all.) But by no means is Sid a pushover who tolerates any kind of BS. He rightfully rips Rishabh to shreds when he tries to discredit his relationship with Ishani, and understandably calls Ishani out on her nonsense when she's evading her duties, but in a decent way. There is some against-the-wall-caging (because Tellywood), but in a non-threatening manner; he maintains an appropriate distance, does not touch her, and while he does talk in a raised voice due to frustration, never does it veer into yelling that feels dangerous, and he repeatedly asks her if he said or did anything that's making her uncomfortable to be around him. I found it a little strange that he was so vehemently in denial of his feelings for Ishani in last week's episodes, because he seemed to readily accept after his conversation with Guddu Mama (“Halwa banaa ke leke jaaoon? Usko achcha lagega?" with the most hopeful smile; calling Ishani a "bohut hi pyaari si princess" to her face and specifying that he specifically made the halwa for her "pyaaaaar se", being open to the idea of marrying Ishani when Nurse Philo/Jessica jokingly suggest it....) but I guess it would be pretty incongruous for him to instantly fall hard for Ishani AND recognize it, with his past as a "player". So I like that they brought in one of his flings to contrast how different his feelings for Ishani are compared to the other girls he's dated; and subsequently how he's processing his many emotions about the situation. Most of all, I love that his feelings for Ishani don't hamper him from doing his job right; instead they just make him more sensitive to understanding her and making her feel good in any capacity that he can. He came all the way over to her house to apologize for making her cry, AND MADE HER PARATHAS!!!!!!! He slept over, but respectfully all scooched up on her tiny couch! What a goddamn Good Boi. Also, him crying over Jessica's diagnosis? Heart-fucking-breaking. We should all be so lucky to find a doctor who cares about his patients THIS much.

Ishani (or lol as Guddu Mama calls her, "Pareshaani"): I really was expecting the absolute worst with this "Ishani has Loveria" track. And it did not start out well; almost 3 whole episodes were just her puerile lovesick imagination waale music videos and that goddamn CGI titli and I was just like jfc whyyyyyyyyyy. BUT THEN!!!!!!! They finally started showing us the funny side of Ishani, and it's succeeded in making the character lovably kooky, instead of just unpleasant to be around. Her panic attack in the bathroom where she legit thinks she's having a stroke and tries to literally shake off the crush, making all the first year residents repeatedly do ECGs on her, her awkwardness around Sid, the rant where she bemoans falling in love with Sid of all people, her child-like crying to Asha when Sid finally gives her a dressing down for acting idiotic ("Mujhe ITNA daanta! ITNAAAA! Aur unprofessional bhi bola! *violently stabbing finger in the air* UNPROFESSIONAL!!!!!!!!"); all of it was just hilarious as fuck. We're finally seeing the endearing side of Ishani's addled personality. I'm also very glad she got the much-required wakeup call from Sid/Asha, that she's being very unprofessional by running away from her duties, and hopefully from here on, she'll be learn to focus on her job, even with Sid's distracting presence. She's also made quite a bit of progress when it comes to her germophobia; but realistically: it's only with Sid (and Asha) - the two people she's really close to; she's still seen being touch-averse with the rest, but slowly getting better; letting children touch her, offering to shake hands with Jessica and Jignesh, etc.

Asha & Aman: I'm super bummed that Rashmi is being replaced as Asha, because she was honestly so good in the role; cheerful and hilarious in most of her scenes, gentle and sensitive with Ishani, helping her out as much as she can with this inconvenient crush... It's not an easy role, with the accent and all. I hope this new actress is as competent as Rashmi, who always highlighted the humour but without making the accent the punchline; it was always the things she said and how she chooses to word it. It's an important distinction, to not make the regional background into a caricature.

Aman is Aman as usual, lol; vicariously getting kicks thanks to the shenanigans of everyone around. Also, to my surprise, Aman and Asha live together! They offer up their place for a party for Sid; when Ishani freaks out that the cake he ordered isn't Sid's favt. flavour, Aman just shrugs "Meri Asha ko butterscotch pasand hai." I still don't really know what his equation with Asha is, but whatever it is, I love it. Asha's a self-sufficient girl, but it's obvious that Aman feels really protective of her and wants to see her happy always. I really hope the new actress maintains this ambiguous chemistry with Robin too, till the writers decide what direction they wanna take this relationship in.

Dialogue of the Week: Asha [walking in on Ishani holding a sleeping Sid's hand]: Abbe! Humaare saamne toh badi "garma"phobic bani ghoomti hai, ab dekho Dr. Sid ke saath kaise touchy-wouchy ho rahi hai!!!!!!!!!!!

Rishabh: Fucking asshole. He Tried, but he's no match for the razor sharp wit of Sid, or Asha's jugaadu skills to relieve an overworked Ishani. Chal dafa ho, be! Manhoos kahinka.

Neil: He's really really enjoying Sid and Ishani's crushes on each other, taking the mick out of both of them at any given opportunity. I truly lmao-ed when he was seriously examining Ishani for an illness on her insistence and then eye-rollingly dismisses her with "Kuch nahi hua hai tumhe." Cutest snark bean.

Rahil: MY ACTUAL FAVE. Lmao, if Ishani’s got her little purple titli, then Rahil is Sid’s grownass plaid-shirt-wearing TITLA, who appears outta nowhere to serve up piping hot sass at his confused dumbassery. His acerbic, plain-speak snark seems to be the only language Sid understands (as opposed to the first years' gleeful teasing, or the good-natured ribbing of elders like Shashank and Philo and Guddu Mama), and him having to exasperatedly explain things to his boss-who-is-also-his-bff is just hilarious. I relish every single scene he appears in to the max! Also props to him for giving us the gem "same level ke ajeeb" as the OTP tag for SidIsha!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Shashank: A much better fortnight for Dr. Shashank! Two of his idiot babies are very obviously in love (that scene of Ishani showing him her reports and describing the butterfly through pantomime though, lmao) and now his relationship with Anjali is defrosting (the exchange about the surgeon she was interested in and how he wants grandkids from her??? The cutest!!!!) Things still remain frosty with Juhi though, and I don't understand why he won't just address the issue and clarify things in a straightforward manner, instead of dragging it out like this and making it awkward with his COS/mentee. Anyway, good on him for getting that win on Vardhan, but I feel like he needs to stop being so damn stubborn on his issues without giving reasons. It’s not helping matters around here, personally or professionally.

Juhi: Literally the classiest female professional on TV??????? She hasn't stopped holding Shashank accountable for how he sabotaged her career, but I love that she has sorted it out enough to work with him, but also engages in minor acts of pettiness like gleefully scraping his car with hers, cheekily grinning and apologizing saying she needed to get out some of the angst before they operated on a patient together. For what it's worth, I was fully on her side during the argument with Shashank about the machines for the hospital; it sounded like a good deal, but of course, she should have had the foresight to know Vardhan would try to do some kinda fuckery. She’s right in not really trusting Shashank anymore, but needs to be a little more prudent with how she proceeds while making decisions for Sanjivani. In a way, it’s really sad how she doesn’t really have any allies at her level. Shashank was the only one she could really rely on, and he went and blew that relationship up, and now she’s kinda adrift in the organization. I hope Shashank does good by her and repairs the relationship.

Anjali: Phew, finally a good break for Anjali. I'm ecstatic. She's realized that Vardhan's manipulating her and broken free of his gaslighting nonsense. She's much smarter than both Shashank and Vardhan thought she was and yes sis, play them both!!!!!!! She got her COS post, but also isn't playing by Vardhan's rules. Ultimate winner! But does she also have some romantic feelz for V? Coz that last scene between them had very intimate vibes, from the way she walked into his office and knew where the booze was, to her pouring him a glass and casually lounging against the wall like a wife/girlfriend would. She wasn't even really fazed when he grabbed her; either she's a hella strong woman who cannot be trifled with, or she's familiar with this side of him. I really hope it's the former coz she deserves someone who's a grown up version of Sid (*cough* Atul Joshi *cough*) who's super good and healthy for her, not this deceitful fuckwad.

Vardhan: What is his deal? No honestly, does he have some kinda personal stake in saving Sanjivani from financial ruin? It seems so, with how overwrought and devastated he seemed at Shashank exposing the machine waala scam. Also, the way he manhandled Anjali? Unforgivable. Die in a fire, scum.

Rahul: Still haven't seen him but apparently he's hiding in that secret room in the luxury ward? What the everloving experimental fuck is he doing with pregnant women who look to be unable to afford medical care? Nothing ethical, that's for sure. I have a feeling this will maybe tie up to Ishani's parents waala plot, but for the meanwhile, jfc, just reveal yourself man, coz this shit is getting scary as fuck the longer you go unseen.

Overall Rating: 5/5

#sanjivani #tt reviews #sanjivani (new)

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marvel-smut · 5 years

Text

Distractions

Natasha Romanoff & Clint Barton

Prompt: Natasha is still haunted by memories from the infamous red room. Clint offers his complete support and helps take her mind off of it.

Warnings: some emotional stuff, some sexual stuff too

Words: 2.4k

Note: I called Clint a marksman somewhere in here and some people may think it's wrong but Ive always considered archers to be marksmen. Also the characters are both poorly written in my opinion but I'd love feedback

~~~~~~~~~~~

Natasha sat in her room, door shut, lights off, it was completely dark, around 2 in the morning. She hasn’t been able to sleep since she saw the date for today. She excused herself from the group she was having fun with and simply went up to her floor to lie down and mope to herself.

Clearly she can’t be alone in her own mind. She heard an elevator ding signaling someone's presence. She didn’t sit up or even look that way.

There was a dip in the bed and that's when she turned her head and smiled when she saw who it was.

Steve sat there, smiling and just rubbing her arm. "I noticed you weren't in such a good mood, wanna tell me what's going on Romanoff?" He asked quietly, lips in a tight line as he looked at her. Natasha smiled and shook her head, pursing her lips and shifting to face him.

"It's just. The date is a marker for when I became... Whatever thing I am now." She sighed, looking up at him and patting his arm gently. "I don't really want to talk about it."

Steve nodded and stood up to take his leave, giving her a firm pat on the arm. "I'll send Clint up here in a minute, I'm going to go back down to talk to Tony and Bruce." He said quietly, taking one last look at Natasha before leaving the room. She let out a sigh and stood up, walking to her dresser and pulling out a t shirt and a pair of fluffy pajama bottoms. She quickly stripped and redressed before laying back down, pushing her comforter down to the foot of the bed and laying down under the sheet. There was a quiet tap on her door before it opened and an all too familiar face peeked in.

"Hey there Nat. Steve told me to come talk to you, is everything alright?" He asked quietly, as if he spoke too loud it would break something. Natasha rolled on her side to face Clint and pat the spot beside her on her bed. The marksman came in and shut the door softly before walking over.

When he sat down he laid back against the headboard and laid his legs out in front of him. Natasha scooted closer and laid her head on Clint’s thigh.

Their relationship had always been questioned by others, they weren't really sure what they were either. They acted like a couple, went out on dates sometimes, kissed and cuddled, and sometimes things got a little hot between them as well. There have been several occasions where the both of them have shown up for training littered in scratch marks and bruises from nights before. So they had a complicated relationship to say the least.

Clint took Natasha's hair down from the messy ponytail it was in and combed his fingers through her hair slowly. Natasha instantly relaxed against him and sighed. "Thank you, Clint. For coming up here and checking on me, I'm glad I’ve met you. Its just. The day I didn’t realize what it was so when I found out I was hit instantly with remembrance of what I've become. Who I've become. I'm so glad I've become who I am otherwise I wouldn’t have met you and I wouldn't have been able to become so happy but I always wonder what if I had just been normal?" Natasha rambled on and Clint simply listened and played with her hair. When she finished he looked down at her and smiled, letting his hand trail down to cup her cheek.

Natasha smiled and leaned up, reaching up with one delicate hand to comb through Clint’s hair on the back of his head. Her fingers tangled in suddenly and she pulled him down into a slow kiss. There wasn't any heat behind it just soft, passionate kissing.

Clint pulled away with a throaty chuckle and looked at Natasha despite it being dark in the room enough light was in there for them to see each other.

"Nat, I am so lucky to have met you. You make me so undeniably happy and I hate to see you in such a low spot. I understand that today is a rough day for you but I'm here for you and I wont leave until you need me to. But right now you need someone here and that is gonna be me until you are sick and tired of it. I'm here to listen, comfort, and distract you from your pain in any way needed." Clint whispered sweetly, pressing his forehead to hers and wrapping a large hand around hers as it came up to touch the side of his face. All at once Natasha pulled Clint into another kiss, this time holding fire and desire in it.

Clint blindly reached around behind him until he found the lamp and turned it on. The sudden light made Natasha pull away and smile at him. "I want to be able to actually see you while I cause a distraction." Clint smiled as he shifted so Natasha laid on her back and Clint hovered over her.

They kissed for a long while, Natasha would nibble and bite on Clint’s bottom lip to pull out deep groans and grunts from the man above her. His hands ran over her sides and to her hips then up her legs that had wrapped around his waist. His hands wandered to her knees then came back up to her sides underneath her shirt. Clint pulled away to sit back on his knees between her legs, his rough hands gently massaged and caressed Natasha's pale breasts, giving them a firm squeeze before he began to pinch and tease her sensitive nipples.

Natasha's back arched into the stimulation and her eyes fluttered shut, her small hands gripped his large wrists to have something to hold on to while he touched her. Out of everyone she's ever been with he's the only one who stuck around long enough to learn exactly how to unwind her. She didn't understand why he stayed but she's more than thankful for it every day they spend together. Natasha sat up and ripped her shirt over her head before laying back down to let Clint continue his assault on her torso. He leaned down over her body to place a wet kiss right under her jaw, followed by on her collar bone, then he paused right below the collarbone to suck a dark purple bruise into the pale skin.

Clint always loves marking Natasha, he thinks that the dark purples, blues, and reds all look beautiful compared to her skin as white as cream. He loved how they made her body shiver and rather than snarky remarks he pulls beautiful moans from between her cherry red lips. He loved pleasing Natasha, he would spend hours teasing her and making her feel the best she ever has before.

Clint continued his kisses, kissing between the soft breasts before going off to the side and swirling his tongue around the perky nipple, then closing his lips around it to suck on the skin softly. He let His teeth slowly and carefully scrape over the sides before he pulled away and smirked as he saw the heaving breaths Natasha was taking. Whenever he stopped the assassin would lift her head up with a pout, followed by a whine from the back of her throat.

Natasha swirled her hips around and pushed them up against Clint's. Even through the soft material of her pants and his sweat pants she felt a jolt of pleasure spark through her abdomen. She impatiently ran her hands under his shirt and tugged it up and off. Immediately her eyes landed on his chest and his arm, Natasha always loved his tattoos, she loved to admire them and take her time to kiss over the soft inked skin. Just as she went to flip them over to appreciate his body Clint put a firm hand on her chest and leaned down again.

"I know you like to take control, princess. But tonight is about you. Im going to make sure you see how perfect I think you are no matter what your past consists of." He whispered against the soft skin of her flat stomach. Natasha bit her lip and relaxed, slowly calming herself down and taking a deep breath in before closing her eyes and letting herself be pleasured.

Clint took this as an okay and pulled her fuzzy fox print pajama bottoms off and tossed them aside. His lips traced over the faint mark of her abs and left more hickeys on the smooth skin before kissing down to her hips where he barely bit the jutted out hip bone and sucked in a mark as well. Natasha's hips jerked roughly with every kiss and bite, she was practically grinding her now exposed clit against his jaw. Clint snickered at her impatience and wrapped his tan hands around her thighs before diving in and moaning against her clit as he finally tasted her.

Natasha let out a very audible squeal and immediately her back arched, her bright eyes rolled back, her thighs clenched around Clint’s head, and her long nails scratched his scalp as she pulled his hair roughly. Clint only let out another moan against her, looking up her body at Natasha blissed out face. She let out quiet moans, she usually wasn’t that loud in bed until it came to Clint’s fingers.

Rather than jumping straight to his fingers Clint decided to continue lapping at her swollen clit, flicking his tongue against the nerves and smirking as Natasha's hips arched up against his face. She mumbled random nonsense, which Clint zoned in on.

"Oh fuck... Fuck fuck fuck Clint... Oh my god-fuck-" Nat panted and let out a surprised squeal when suddenly Clint’s middle finger pushed into her all the way to the last knuckle. Her body froze as he continued sucking and licking over her clit, his finger slowly pumped a couple of times before suddenly curling up all at once which made Natasha lock up and let out a loud moan from the sudden intense pleasure rather than the dull, constant pleasure from his tongue.

Suddenly all of her senses were heightened, Clint continued quickly curling his finger inside of her while his tongue flicked back and forth across her clit. She felt as if it were too much yet still not enough.

Clint was relentless, he wasn't slowing down at all. He added a second finger to Natasha and curled them both, Natasha felt a tight knot curl up in her abdomen. Her hips thrusted against the pleasure and bucked erratically. Clint pressed a hand down on her pelvis which caused Natasha to clamp down all at once and and keep Clint’s fingers inside of her. His tongue worked against her as her walls clenched and unclenched through her orgasm as it ripped through her. She hadn’t had an orgasm this powerful in over a month, some juices leaked around Clint’s strong fingers. Finally she relaxed and looked down at Clint who had pulled away and sucked his fingers clean.

He kissed up Natasha's body and licked his lips before kissing her softly. "Do you have the energy for one more, Natasha? If not that is perfectly fine we can go and get in a bath and then come back in here and cuddle until you fall asleep." Clint began rambling this time, Natasha giggled and kissed him again with a satisfied hum.

"I can go again, but I'd rather you let me have a taste of you." She rasped, sitting up and urging Clint to lie back. He wasn't going to complain at all so he followed as she said and lifted his hips as she tugged down his sweatpants.

Natasha wasn’t in the mood to tease so she looked up through her long lashes as she gripped Clint at the base and slowly sank down. She had to pull back about halfway down and push her hair back before sinking down once more, this time closing her eyes and taking a steady breath through her nose as she allowed her throat to relax. Her gag reflex tried to tighten around the head of Clint’s cock but Natasha had to force herself to fight it and take him down all the way.

Clint let his head fall back and a groan fall from his lips, his hand came up to Natasha's hair to push it back and grip it tight. Natasha hummed a little as she pulled back, saliva dripping down the shaft slowly. She then suctioned her lips tightly around the swollen tip before sinking back down, Clint jerked his head up to watch Natasha as he moaned again. His eyes fluttered just as she glanced up and sank all the way down again.

Natasha continued this steady pace until Clint was grinding his hips up into her. Finally Natasha pulled off and looked up with wide eyes. "You can fuck my face, Clint. You know that." She smiled, he grinned and pulled her back to his cock. She opened her mouth and slid just past the tip into her mouth then let Clint take control from there.

The archer pulled her down a bit more before thrusting his hips up into her mouth, once he got used to the feeling he let himself thrust faster. Clint moaned and let himself go, his muscles were pulled taut and he felt his climax building all too quick. Natasha knew this and waited patiently, adding in soft moans as he hit the back of her throat. His thighs tensed and pulled up just a little bit as his head fell back hard against the pillows.

He couldn't form proper words but Natasha felt the pulsing cock and closed her lips around it just as she felt the hot, salty cum shoot out and land on her tongue and even down her throat. It kept going and once he was done she pulled away, she swallowed everything in her mouth and stuck her tongue out at him. Clint smiled and reached up, cupping her face and stroking over her cheek.

"I hope you don’t think we're done yet, I'm gonna be distracting you all day." Clint said with a wink.

#mineclintasha #mine #clint barton #natasha romanoff #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #0616 #18+#marvel characters #marvel smut #smut #mine smut

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burningalight · 4 years

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my binders/locker in grade school were stuffed with so much shit i couldnt find anything...always crumpled up papers, trash etc

chewed pencils/pens, broke them taking them apart in class, lost them, often didn’t have one, frequently borrowing them and forgetting to give them back to the point that certain people wouldn’t give me pencils

could comprehend reading i liked very well, but when we’d have reading groups with boring books id always be lost, or when the teachers would have one on ones and have u read something short and ask questions after to assess ur reading level, they’d often have to tell me to read it again bc they knew how much i remembered didnt add up to my intelligence and reading speed

moms college friend gave me an unoffical iq test and i did much worse than i know i shouldve on the reading portion bc she’d play a story and then ask me after to list every detail i could remember and i couldn’t remember anything. but when she played 10 numbers and asked me to say them out loud backwards i scored extremely high ?

couldnt do projects, would be in tears, last minute every time, parents mad bc i need a poster board RIGHT NOW ITS DUE TOMORROW . hated assigned reading, horrible at essays even when they helped us plan them.

i remember my 7th grade social studies teacher assigning a paper, i wrote extremely detailed and well in the first paragraph or 2, and the following ones got shorter and shorter and were completely bullshit bc i got bored. she told me ‘really strong first paragraph.’ and gave me a B

talk too got damn fast. customers constantly telling me to slow down bc they cant understand me

my mom always says she had to challenge me as a kid bc i would get bored and get in trouble. i was acting out bc i was understimulated, i happened to like learning (esp numbers and puzzles) bc smart so that’s what i could fixate on and felt stimulated by

lunch detention frequently in 8th grade in my first highschool class, algebra, bc i wouldnt do my homework, at one point he just stopped giving lunch detention for that bc i wouldnt do it. i hated that class bc the math was boring and i never paid attention but would somehow pull off a’s and b’s on tests so i ended up with a B. my first B, and i had brought that up from a D (told my mom it was almost a C, he gave a really hard test and we all did bad etc, when she had to sign a paper about my low grade) at the end of the year, during the exam i was so confused the whole time, it was my first highschool exam and i didn’t know ANYTHING. i ended up with a 92 from guessing, and a curve, and every one of my friends got at least a 93 or better and i felt so stupid bc i was supposed to be the best at math

i would take every highschool class in honors but not one english class bc it required more essays and summer reading and i knew i wouldnt do the reading and would cry over the essays

the only other class i didnt take honors was chemistry bc i knew the honors teacher had a lot of projects and i would be stressing over them. i ended up with an A in the standard chem class even tho i never finished any work in class and didnt do homework, but i was still the smartest in the class and did the best overall

lunch detention for forgetting to get papers signed like report cards. they weren’t even bad grades i just couldnt remember. one time i got actual detention for forging my moms signature bc i got lunch detention for several days straight bc i kept forgetting to get the paper signed

often had permission slips waiting to be signed the day before the field trip, or told my mom it was picture day the day before or morning of. one time i totally forgot it was picture day and didnt dress up

acting out and not thinking ab the consequences, many referrals.. many more times that my teachers let me get away with acting out when someone else doing the same thing would’ve been punished. one time anna and i left in the middle of class to go with emma to the library, only emma had permission, and my teacher had anna and i do wall sits instead of going to the office. in gym in middle school i would never dress out. i hated the clothes and hated gym bc i was awkward and if we didnt dress out we had to copy pages out of the health textbook the entire time and i would barely write 2 paragraphs bc i was so bored and my hand hurt and he never did anything ab it. i wouldnt dress out at least twice per week if not more. told my mom I had a C bc he had it out for me but i was the problem

in elementary school if we didn’t come to gym day wearing the right shoes we had to go into the back and pick out a pair of sneakers that fit out of a box of shoes, and also borrow socks if necessary. i had to do this frequently bc i never remembered to wear the right shoes

i would extremely often forget my library books and have to sit on the couch waiting for everyone to pick out their books for half an hour

when we were even younger we’d have story time and you had to sit in the middle of the floor inside a big circle of chairs where everyone else was if you forgot your library books. i lost one at one point for months and my parents didnt just pay for it so i had to sit in the middle every time. we found the book on a shelf somewhere in the house

my chorus teacher never liked me bc i talked too much and i always felt like the worst singer, not bc of my singing but bc she wasn’t ever nice to me

in 7th grade science we learned latin root words and every day we’d play a game where we all stood up and one by one he’d ask for a root and we’d give it. if you got it wrong on the first round you’d have to write it on a piece of paper x amount of times and turn it in. if you were the last person left you were allowed to sit on your desk for the rest of the year, during these games while everyone else had to stand up. i wanted so badly to sit on my desk, esp bc i was fidgety and couldnt stand still, but i would never study them bc i’d forget or not want to if i did remember, even tho i really wanted to know them and sit on my desk. that teacher had a huge soft spot for me and one day i just started sitting on my desk during those. everyone knew i was smart, and it was all the smart kids who got to sit on their desks, so no one questioned it. im not sure if he knew i wasnt supposed to and just let me, or didnt realize i hadnt won bc i was smart.

hyperlexia? mom said i could practically read before i was taught. i’ve always obsessively air written, ie writing words out w my finger in the air, on my leg etc.

esp during lectures i doodle excessively to the point that my papers margins have always been covered with random scribbly overlapped words, or song lyrics. the words are usually something someone in the class said. ive started keeping an extra sheet of paper just for scribbling when im taking notes or listening in class. when we finished end of year tests in school i would write down full lyrics to songs on my scrap paper so i wouldnt be so bored. my hand cramps up so much but it was better than staring or trying to sleep with the lights on

doing things and forgetting to turn them in

hyperfixating on books to cope w boredom and social anxiety, at one point read one per day, i was definitely one of the most frequent people in the library

‘ The way I see it is if I can get information into my mind, I can do a lot with it but getting it in there in the first place is the really difficult part.’ - not mine

none of my teachers ever told my mom any of this i dont think, bc i was the smartest and i always got good grades, most had a soft spot for me BUT COULDNT SEE I HAD ADHD like damn. one time my fourth grade teacher whom i liked a lot was mad at us and indirectly calling people out, and referred to the fact that some of us never stopped talking , then made direct eye contact with me and i felt rly embarrassed bc i didnt realize i did that until she mentioned it

i often had to move seats if i was near friends bc i wouldnt stop instigating talking

at big lots when i had to run the register i was so painfully bored , fidgety, had to sneak my phone soo much bc i was so bored. when i was on the floor i would put away the go backs very quickly and then take upon myself a project like going through the entire wall of individual drinks and pulling out all the expired ones, it was like 5 carts full. my manager put me in charge of organizing the entire makeup section and all the gross clearance makeup bc she knew id do it the best and fastest

when bosses have me do inventory i can count the products super fast and efficiently, but then when they have me put them into a spreadsheet i stare at it for hours getting nothing done bc distracted and its boring. ammar told me if i’d just get off my phone i could get it done bc he’d been asking for it for weeks, i wasnt trying to ignore it

when im trying to do something at work that needs more concentration, i want to cry with frustration whenever i hear the door chime and have to get up and help customers and break my focus

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winemum-ignis · 7 years

Text

Sunday Morning

Notes: So this was the accumulation of a post I saw that was just like ‘imagine gladio in sweats and reading glasses’ (which is lost somewhere in the maze that is my likes and whatnot) and from writing these headcanons. The mental images oh the mental images just give me an IV of domestic fluff (particularly older Gladnis) and I will live for all eternity and I needed to finish something for Gladio’s birthday (even if it is now the 3rd over here shhhh). In no way birthday related, just cute future fluff, and maybe one day, I will complete my original birthday smut plan and just un-birthday it, we shall see.

FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF *chants into the sunset*, Gladnis, Future AU where my precious babies are save and happy, 3281 words, (AO3)

Sunday morning was Gladio’s turn to make breakfast. It was the same every week and he normally ended up doing the same thing; not actually making it and instead picking something up. He had tried making things in the past but he was hardly as skilled as his partner was in the kitchen and it didn’t always go exactly as planned so he couldn’t be blamed for wanting to play it safe sometimes. Besides, it also gave him the chance to pick the paper up en route which was currently tucked underneath his arm as he juggled the items in his hands. He finally gave up, putting the cardboard cut-out that held the takeaway coffee cups down on the floor allowing a now free hand to reach into the pocket of his light grey sweats while the other held the bag that contained breakfast.

Propping the apartment door open with a foot as he reacquired the caffeine, there was a lot of shimmying as he tried to get himself in the door without dropping or spilling anything, but needless to say he succeeded. Stepping out of his shoes and wandering down the corridor towards the kitchen he was greeted by the white cat that rubbed up against a leg with a soft purr, clearly eager to see if her owner had returned with anything worth her while. He hadn’t, not specifically at least but Gladio did have a habit of giving her some of what they had. All she had to do was look at him with those big green eyes and he was lost. Not dissimilar to the other person who lived in the apartment.

“There’s nothing for cats.” Removing the coffee cups from their carrier, Gladiolus couldn’t resist booping the little pink nose of his audience that was watching him like a hawk before opening up the bag, the sweet smell hitting him like a brick as he proceeded to empty out the pastries onto a plate. He could at least make it look like he had made the effort although it wouldn’t take a detective to work out that he didn’t make them himself. He tested one of them, taking a large bite which drew a grunt of approval at the apple turnover as he settled himself at one of the stools at the kitchen island. “And I doubt there will be any leftovers, these are too good.” Ears twitched as she was addressed, the cat tilting her head to the side as if confused by Gladio’s statement, as if she understood what he was saying and was mortally offended at the prospect of not getting leftovers.

“That is of course if he ever gets up to eat them.” She didn’t understand the smirk to denote his joking around, she was a cat, but it didn’t stop him doing it none the less as he raked fingers through his hair before taking a band from the pocket of his sweats, tying the long dark strands back so they couldn’t get in his face. It was the only day of the week his partner was able to sleep in and even then, sometimes that luxury wasn’t even afforded so Gladio was more than happy to let Ignis lie in when given the opportunity. It wasn’t like he didn’t have anything to entertain himself after all as he picked up the newspaper, having to stand up from his seat to get a pen when he couldn’t find one within reaching distance.

With a relaxed expression adorning his features the tall man sat down in the stool, noting what sounded like movement coming from the master bedroom as he started to thumb through the newspaper. Amber eyes skimmed over the print to see if there were any stories of interest before he finally arrived at his actual destination. Sucking the end of the pen out of concentration as he read through the clues for the crossword puzzle, hand reached out to grab the chai latte he had brought for himself when his gaze was caught by something else entirely. He hesitated; while he knew he could do this without them he couldn’t deny that they did help. He was just very unsure about them at the moment. That was when the tall man resigned himself, picking up the reading glasses and placing them on the bridge of his nose. He’d only had them a few days and had worn them all of two times to see how they were. Maybe they would grow on him; only time would tell.

With the faint sound of the shower starting to run in the background Gladio didn’t even notice as he began to fill out the puzzle, occasionally stopping to think things over. A tuck of a stray strand of hair here, a scratch at his temple with the end of his pen there, a sip of the coffee and an eyeing up of the pastry’s and the white cat that was slowly edging closer to them possibly in the hopes that the black-haired gentleman wouldn’t notice. It took all his self-control but he would wait until Ignis was up to have another one which, judging by the fact that the shower had now gone silent and he could hear a faint mumbling coming from the master bedroom, wouldn’t be long.

Readjusting his glasses on his nose, brow furrowed as he began a staring competition with a particularly elusive clue. Scratching behind soft white ears which drew a content purr of the feline, it was when she rose and jumped from the edge of the Island that Gladio was pulled back into the real world. Considering there was food out only one thing would be able to distract her and he knew exactly what sight would behold him as gaze followed the quick white ball of fluff. He knew what it was, but it didn’t make him any more ready for Ignis as he walked out of the bedroom who paused so as not to stand on the cat who had to do her gratuitous greeting of wrapping herself around his legs until he scooped her up.

Gladio was staring and quite frankly, he didn’t give a damn. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence and he was going to take the time to appreciate the man before him. Even after all these years just the sight of him could make his heart flutter even adorned in such casual clothes. Then again this was the man who could probably make a potato sack look good so it was no surprise he managed to make the lounge pants and v-neck work and so effortlessly at that.

Finally, Gladiolus stopped his mesmerised staring at the brunette to actually greet him. “Good morning.” As soon as he spoke, Ignis started walking over, content little smile now directed to his partner instead of the feline that was balanced in the crook of one arm as long fingers pushed still damp brown hair back from his face before they reached out to where, according to what spacial awareness he had, should have been the counter. He was correct in his estimations and fingers felt the cold surface which the nimble cat now jumped back on to. As soon as he was within arm’s reach of his partner he was gently tugged towards him by a hand reaching out to take his own, fingers loosely lacing together as Ignis stood between muscular thighs.

“Morning.” Leaning down, taking full advantage of the fact that while the other man was seated he was taller than Gladio a soft kiss was placed against the corner of lips. Not bad for guess work. It was the little morning challenge he had set up for himself; no hands to guide him he just had to go in for the kill and see how close to lips he could get the kiss. On multiple occasions, he had managed to get a bullseye, but on just as many occasions had missed spectacularly. Nothing said romance like greeting your lover in the morning with a kiss to the eye. “Close.” Now he could use hands, and he didn’t hesitate to reach up and stroke fingers over Gladio’s bearded jawline slowly.

“Nine out of ten for that one, so close but not quite close enough.” While he knew that Ignis couldn’t see the grin that adorned his features, he knew the younger man could feel it as digits glided over his skin and that was all that mattered. “And as for your prize for breaking this week’s high score…” Pushing the newspaper and pen away from the edge of the island counter, Gladio reached for the untouched coffee that he had brought home with him on top of his own one, placing it in Ignis’ hand instead of where his fingers had previously been. “One hazelnut latte complete with extra double espresso shot.”

Taking a long sip was like heaven as Ignis ran tongue over his lips enjoying the lingering taste of the coffee. “I knew there was a reason I kept you around.” The coy smirk didn’t go unnoticed, drawing a soft laugh from Gladio who draped his arms low around Ignis’ waist leaving him unable to escape his grasp even if he wanted to.

“Don’t forget my amazing ab’s.” The words were slightly muffled as he rested head into the crook of Ignis’ neck that was so beautiful exposed from the loose fit top. It wasn’t as comfortable as normal though and it took a few moments for him to work out why as the brunette simply stood with the seated older man partially wrapped around him like a boa constrictor as if it was a normal occurrence. The truth is that it was. What wasn’t normal were the glasses that Gladio was wearing which was the course of his discomfort, leading him to reluctantly pull back from burying his face and enjoying the smell of the freshly showered man before him.

Taking another long sip of the coffee, free hand stroked over Gladio’s hair as he leant back from his neck. “They are quite exquisite, I will give you that.” Reaching to the back of his head, it didn’t take long for Ignis to locate the band that loosely held back his lover’s black hair, pulling it just enough to release the mane so he could slowly run fingers through it properly. While he curled a few strands around his index finger idly, he coasted over the arm of the reading glasses causing an eyebrow to raise. “So you’re finally wearing them.” Receiving a somewhat disgruntled sigh in response, Ignis placed the coffee on to the table so both hands could cradle Gladio’s face, fingers adjusting the glasses that were perched on his nose with a practised ease, a slightly concerned tone to his voice. “What’s the matter with them? Are they not fitted properly?”

Gladiolus was reluctant to voice his complaints; it suddenly seemed irrelevant to be complaining about his requiring of reading glasses as he looked up at the man before him, the man who had given his vision for the cause that they both had fought for. He knew deep down that Ignis didn’t care about such things; he had accepted what had happened and learnt to carry on with his life but it didn’t stop Gladio thinking about it in such a way. “There’s nothing wrong with them, I’m just being silly.”

He was hesitant to, but he accepted the older man’s words. “Either way, I am sure you look very handsome.” It may have been well over a decade since he was last able to set eyes on that face, but it would be one that Ignis never forgot. He left the glasses as they were, reassured by Gladio’s words, finger tips trailing down so hands could rest at the base of his neck, leaning in once more and this time managing to hit his mark properly with a tender kiss to the other man’s lips. Somebody in the kitchen however wasn’t keen on the situation as a loud meow ensured the gaze of the two men was back on the cat, lips parting ways. She was clearly not pleased at two things; the fact that the pastries were still there and hadn’t been given to her, and that all their attention was on each other as opposed to hers truly.

It had worked, as Gladiolus pulled the shorter male into his lap properly so he was a combination of leaning and sitting on a sturdy thigh, they delved into breakfast with occasional scratches and strokes for the feline who was making it her business to intercept hands as they reached for the plate. All the right noises were made, the discussion as to their opinions on the food from the new bakery and whether they would be going again, the standard practise of Ignis helping solve the remaining crossword clues, and it wasn’t long until Gladio was brushing the last stray flake of puff pastry from Ignis’ chin before placing a soft kiss to lips with a smile. Realising that all the food had gone and there was nothing left for her, small white ball of fluff finally resigned herself to her actual breakfast, jumping from the counter leaving the two men to their own devices now they had so rudely eaten all of their food. It was almost as if Gladio had gone and bought it with the intention to eat it; the audacity.

“So, who were you talking to earlier?” Remembering that he had heard Ignis’ voice long before he had seen him, the older man finally removed the reading glasses now that the morning crossword was done and dusted, feeling considerably less ‘old’ now that they were removed.

Before he had even said the word, Ignis knew the reaction that he would get. “Iris.” Exactly as expected a frowny pout formed on the other man’s face but he was already speaking before he could even think of uttering his usual ‘never has time to call her actual brother’. “She thought you may have been asleep and didn’t want to wake you.” The pout lingered, but since it was quite a valid reason Gladio chose not to interject, at least not yet. “They’re going to be back in Insomnia tonight as opposed to tomorrow and asked if we wanted to go for dinner, I suggested going to the Regalia.”

“They?” There it was, the frowny pout as prominent as ever again and Ignis didn’t even have to be able to see him to know it was there, it was clear by Gladio’s voice and as a hand rose and cupped Gladio’s cheek, stroking fingers felt the expression clear as day.

“Yes, they. The two of them. Don’t be a stubborn older brother about this, not again.”

“I’m not being a stubborn older brother, I just don’t think that he is—“

“Don’t be preposterous you know he is perfect for Iris, he is a fantastic person, and above all she isn’t a child any more, Gladio. She is a grown woman who can make her own, sound decisions. You are just being over-protective.”

There was a moments silence as Gladio realised he didn’t really have a counter argument. Gods, why was Ignis always right? Still, despite how correct the brunette may have been it didn’t stop him from wanting to have the last word. “I just don’t want her to settle for the first guy that comes along.”

“Oh sweetness, light of my life, it’s a good job you’re pretty.” Long fingers returned to stroking softly through the long strands of dark hair. “You don’t genuinely believe this is the first guy that’s come along, do you?” The silence that came from the black-haired male said it all as it drew a soft little smile on Ignis’ face as he could practically hear the penny drop. “Don’t you think it says a lot that this is the first one you’ve been introduced too seriously?” And there he was again, being right. The quiet lasted several seconds as Ignis gave him the chance to realise the truth of his words, taking the opportunity to stand up from his thigh perch. Doing so allowed him to rest hands on Gladio’s waist, palms slowly stroking over the vest that concealed away the so delightfully statuesque abdomen. “Try not to think about that at dinner though, you don’t want to go ruining it for yourself.”

The next subject matter to come up was that of what they would actually spend the day doing between now and going out for dinner that evening. There were a lot of hours to fill and when you spent most the time in the week working, actually having free reign of how to unwind could be quite intimidating. Sadly, this week was not one of those weeks; it wasn’t a matter of working out how to best use their time for ideal relaxation. The next few hours at least for them were going to be set out for them but rather they got it out of the way now and had their evening to enjoy with no stress. They’d had the lazy morning and now it was time for Gladio to stand from his chair. “They should be in the hall.” Ignis spoke softly as hands were left Gladiolus-less as the 6’6 man walked past him.

While the taller of the two went through to the hall to retrieve the paperwork that Ignis needed a hand going over, the other retired to the lounge not without grabbing an item of definite necessity from the counter. Well, it wasn’t so much a hand he required with the documents, more so a pair of eyes; it just went much quicker with the assistance of somebody else. With one leg up, one leg down as he semi-laid propped up on the arm of the sofa, Ignis wasn’t sat long until Gladio appeared, several document wallets in his hand before he settled himself on the sofa as well. Taking up the same semi-reclined position he however was propped up against his partner as he lounged between his thighs.

It didn’t take much wiggling to get comfortable and Gladio was soon cracking open the first folder of work. He was never one for this side of things but it was a necessary evil and if it made it easier for Ignis, well then, he would take one for the team. Pulling out the paperwork they had at least already been split. The first copy he kept to himself, the second was handed back to the brunette, the pages that to the untrained eye (or finger so to speak) would just look like a page of random dots.

“Don’t forget these, handsome.” There was a light tapping of something on his shoulder and as Gladio turned his head he caught a glimpse of the reading glasses that Ignis had brought with him from the kitchen. Trying to contain a simultaneous soft chuckle and an exasperated sigh they were soon placed back on the bridge of his noise, ready to be fidgeted with every 30 seconds.

“You sure are putting a lot of faith in me looking good in these.” The soft chuckle that came from Ignis was slightly bittersweet because while he covered it so well, to be able to see that face again was something he longed for every day. It was also nothing in comparison to the laugh that fell from Gladio at Ignis’ next words.

“More faith in in trusting you to tell me if you ever looked like a Jabberwock’s ass.”

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