#i’m so fucking tired today’s supposed to be my break day before i have to work again tomorrow

[prettyboysmlm]

i’m gonna put a hole thru the wall

[girlgen1us]

oh you guys this job is SO boring it’s insane

[occamstfs]

Diet Diaries

Hi all! Thank you so much for 500 followers! Here's a little style switch up to celebrate, got a lotta refs in this one and I quite leaned into the diary entries so I hope it's not too much! Hope y'all enjoy this stereotype reversal and as always, best! -Occam

Monday March 21st-

Andy:

I am beyond sick of Steve. Moving in together was a mistake, I don’t care how cheap the rent is, he is a narcissistic slob and I am eager to never see him again. Well no, I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. Our R.A. had this idea to try and walk in each other's shoes, which I don’t know? It might not be the worst thing? My big idea was switching diets actually- honestly I’m just hoping if he ate more like me he’ll stop stinking up the dorm. I can dream at least. Literally though he just can’t go to the gym as often if he eats like me. If I'm lucky at the very least his deodorant will last longer, I cannot take another day of his b.o. seeping through the walls, ugh! Anyway, wish me luck! I’m sure this will be a breeze for me, he usually just eats junk anyway, hope he enjoys my salads~

Steve:

Andy that little fucker. He was being such a little bitch to James and now I’ve gotta eat his rabbit food for a week or lose this bet or whatever. Steve don’t lose tho. Lil twink’s gotta eat whatever I make him too and you can bet your ass I’m gonna make him match my macros if I’ve gotta starve myself like he wants. Fuck! This shit is going to absolutely tank my routine! I’ve gotta make Andy give up. I’m gonna go so hard on him he’ll have to hit weights if he doesn't want to blow up like a pig. Maybe then he’ll stop bitching any time I don’t fucking shower every time I get back home. 

Tuesday March 22nd-

Andy:

My Lord! He is trying to kill me! I don’t know how anyone could consistently eat as much as he’s telling me to. I’m so bloated from all this food.. He looks so smug every time he tells me to keep eating, I’m sure he doesn’t eat like this. He’s just trying to break me but I’m not going to let him win this easy.

Ugh, I feel so bloated my pants are so tight on my waist. I didn’t think meat sweats were a thing but man I am needing to put on deodorant like twice a day now and I’m not even exercising. I will say that now that I’m eating so much, I don’t hate the idea of going to the gym. It’s been a while since I went but I should probably at least hit up the treadmill lest I get even more of a gut- maybe I’ll see if he wants to go tomorrow. This is all just an exercise to understand each other more after all, no need to make it a stupid competition like he wants eh~

Steve:

Fuck! I am so tired of Andy’s pussy-ass diet. I had absolutely no energy at the gym today, I told all my bros that I was just gonna take it easy but fuck! I really was working my ass off and I struggled to even meet a PR I set last week. It was supposed to be a push day and I didn’t even get a chest pump! Why the fuck am I still going. I’m abso-fucking-lutely not getting gains on his fuckin’ bitch-ass salads and oats.

Eatin’ like a fucking twink and the fucker has the nerve to ask to go to the gym with me tomorrow. I’ll make sure he regrets that >:) Gonna work him like a horse so he’ll throw in the towel! After feeling how sore actually working on yourself makes ya, he might actually learn something. I’ll turn in early so I can go all out and show him what a real man looks like.

Wednesday March 23rd-

Andrew:

Man! I totally get why Steven eats so much now~ I am absolutely raring to go and get this; He said I could go to the gym with him today! He even seemed like he wanted me to go with him! I feel like I have more energy than I’ve ever had before, I might even try some weights!! I don’t know but I’m so excited! It’s like I can feel my chest and biceps begging me to go and hit some iron haha! Or whatever those “bros” say~ I hope he’s got something good planned for lunch because I fuck Sorry! I just want to show him that I can do all this dude stuff too! I’m a man right? I guess all this protein is making me feel more like a man than usual idk. Either way though I’m ready to go! Hope we have some fun!

Steven:

That bitch’s fuckin’ fru fru salads are ruining my PR’s for sure! I bet he knew that when he begged me to take him to the gym today, knew it was the only time he could show off to me was when I’m so out of it. And he didn't! Just to be clear I could still wipe the floor with  him even if I’m not at my A-game. Ugh, I do gotta hand it to the little fucker though. I KNOW he hasn’t even really set foot in a gym before but man. Beginners luck my ass, as soon as I showed him a technique he lifted like he’s been doing it his whole life! It’s like I could see his pecs and tris swelling up with each lift. Not that I was staring at the bitch or anything but he’s just I just need this fuckin’ diet thing to end so I can get back to my grind, I guess I wouldn’t hate taking him to the gym more often, would be hot to make a bitch into a bro Fuck! What am I writing, I just need to lift again.

Thursday March 24th-

Andrew: 

Bro! Weird? Whatever, I am absolutely on fire! Steven’s diet is absolutely killer! I don’t know how it’s working so well but man I couldn’t care less, I felt like a pro in there! My coaches in school would always shit on me for not trying but man! I was barely trying yesterday but I could tell from the look on Steven’s face that I was acing it! I guess I’ll have to admit to him that he is definitely onto something with his macros but man, not until he gives up haha! Man, I need to chill haha, it’s not like I’m any stronger than I was Monday but man, looking at myself in the mirror it just seems like my clothes are just fitting better. Catching on my chest rather than my stomach y���know? I’ve never noticed that there is muscle on my arms before but man the way my sleeves are kinda hugging my biceps mm. I need to chill haha! Can’t use all my energy before hitting the gym again today!

OH! Also totally weird, I’ve had to shave twice this week! Once last night and then again this morning which is so weird! I’m not complaining though, it’s not like I wouldnt look hot with a beard right? Although my face is a little itchy already, my chest too? Whatever though haha! Time to head back to the grind lol!

Steven:

God!! Andy Andrew is being such an asshole! He’s clogging the sink shaving which I know he would so be on my ass if I had done that. Wait, he did get on my ass for shaving! But it hasn’t been a problem this week, it’s like I’m not even growing stubble for some reason? Probably from not working so hard at the gym, is that how that works? Whatever it’ll be over as soon as this stupid diet thing is. We’re halfway through now. Thank God! Because that fucking twink is starting to stink up the dorm which again!! He was such a little bitch all the time to me about that! It’s like he’s literally stopped using deodorant as soon as he started needing it! He’s never exerted himself in his life and now that his pits are sweating at all he’s suddenly allergic to hygiene, ugh! I saw last night too the fucker fell asleep with his head in his pit too so it’s not like he doesn’t know it. 

It was a little surprising actually, cause I would’ve sworn he was hairless like one of those freak cats but man his pit was as thick as my pubes! Thicker maybe, uh? Man I wish I could get that image out of my head, it’s like the tuft was pushing out further each time he inhaled, man that’s kinda hot? Fuck! I swear this twink-ass diet is making me think like him too. I need to sneak to the gym later, without him. I cannot have him getting ahead even while I’m still on his chickenshit diet.

Friday March 25th-

Steven:

Ah!! That Little bitch! He was already at the gym when I got there! Ugh! It makes me want to punch a wall, or fight him. Or something I dont know! It’s just, he was lifting my body weight on the bench when he saw me, it was so ho ugh! It doesn’t matter what it was, I can’t stop thinking of that smug look on his face- what I would give to wipe it off… That absolute prick knew what he was doing. Ugh, speaking of pricks! He may as well have not been wearing shorts at all by how much his cock was showing through them.

I knew my meal prepping was fucking tight but man, I can’t believe hot its made him. It just really fucking turns me on, or no its such a turn on for chicks. Yeah. Whatever. I need this bet to end already. Clearly he’s totally obsessed with my lifestyle so he should just admit it already! Also, hate to say it, but to Andrew’s credit his diet ain't too bad either. I’d never tell him this, and it is all a little emasculating but my skin has never looked this good. I’m not even doing skincare or anything but it’s like I’ve been on a routine for years, it’s crazy! It’s still ruining my upper gains but man, my ass looks so good it's crazy..

Oh also re: facial hair, I woke up this morning and could’ve sworn I used to have chest hair but now it looks like I’ve got just a little left around my nipples and leading up from my pubes? I might go ahead and shave those too, might as well be totally smooth like a chick right haha, I wonder what Andrew would think? I need to chill haha, maybe I’ll go see if he’s still at the gym~

Andrew:

Fuuuuck dude lol. I should’ve started hitting up the gym ages ago. Don’t know what I was even wasting time on before I started doing twice-a-days? Studying I guess but I can figure that shit stuff out hm. Fuck it is so much better to be strong than a dweeb. Every set it feels like I’m just busting out new PR’s! Gonna need to buy new clothes though cause I am absolutely tearing up my crop tops, my twinky little wardrobe just isn’t cutting it anymore. Maybe Steven’d be down for a clothes swap, I’ve seen him eying up my fits all week, god knows he’ll fit them better lol. Oh haha, and speaking of him eying things up >:) You should’ve seen his little face blush when he walked into the gym this morning! He looked so pissed at me lol, but I’m not gonna grab him to come along every time I need to get some sets in right? It was pretty embarrassing for him yesterday anyway, the way I showed him up lol. I’m not just gonna sit around and watch him not lift weights when I can figure this shit out myself, thought it was supposed to be his thing though lol.

Mm, saying that though, I def didn’t hate having a little audience from his treadmill. God, his blushing face as he stared directly at my work-out chub. Fuck, it really got me going. It really helped my sets too haha. Maybe I should hit him up lol, I can tell how bad he wants me >:)

Saturday March 26th-

Stevie:

Ugh! That douche is walking around the dorm completely shirtless! Do you know what it’s like to have an oaf flexing away across the room from you 24/7! He knows what he’s doing, and thank god my dick isn’t showing through my shorts like I thought it usually does because he might literally pounce on me then-

Ugh! I didn’t even mention this morning. I literally woke up to him jacking off his morning wood! Do you know what a bitch-fit he would have thrown if I did that! He would’ve filed a police report, probably the dweeb, or. I guess I could too?? But it was just so fucking hot. I tried to pretend I was asleep, but he totally caught me. He literally smirked and made eye contact as he finished too- thank god he didn’t see my boner as he asked if I wanted to clean up his mess. He’s such an ass! 

I still have a boner now actually, it’s his B.O. driving me actually crazy! It’s like I can’t think near him if he’s going to stink this bad god.. Oh, he’s doing pullups on the door frame fuck. He’s supposed to be hairless but I see sweat dripping from his pits god I can't. God with each pull up his chest looks even more powerful. His cock is bobbing up and down in his pants and I can not look away. Fuck it’s getting even bigger. I’m supposed to be the strong one right? It’s not, fuck. This isn’t right. He just so fucking, god that body, I need him-

And Drew:

Heh. I knew that fucking twink couldn’t resist me. Every little thing I do wraps him even tighter around my finger. Every flex and smirk turns him on even more I bet he can’t even think straight the way his little dick is losing it in his briefs- I took all his jocks since I’m sure he would need them anymore. Bet the little bitch didn’t even remember they were his.  

Might as well have been drooling when he saw me jacking my cock this morning lol, surprised he didn’t take me up on the offer to lick up the mess. I know he wanted to lol. He’ll get the chance soon enough though >:) God it’s a two-way street though. That fucking twink is so fuckable now, thank god he doesn’t need to shave anymore, don’t want his peachfuzz scratching my cock cause god that mouth is so fuckable now.. To say nothing of his fucking juicy ass, god! I’ve been working out in the room all morning waiting for him to give in and ask me to fuck him, idk if I can hold it in much longer. I might need to jack it again, my balls are bluer than I ever thought they could be, fuck. It’s like they're sore. Ugh I feel them getting heavier, heh, that little fucker cant resist though. God I feel precum starting to pool in my jock. If I put my pit within a foot of his face I give him five before he can’t help but shove his face in. I need to fuck him, but as if I’m going to let him see how desperate I am. Stevie that little fucker. He’ll be riding my cock any second now.

Sunday March 27th-

Stevie:

Fuck <3 !! He finally fucked me!! God, it was like nothing I’ve experienced before~ His cock was like a beer can and goddd the scratch of his beard as we were making out.. Hehe if I keep thinking about him I might just cum again right now! He can fully toss my body like a ragdoll and I’d thank him ugh! He’s just so hot, and to think he wants to fuck me!! Ah~ I’ll need to keep myself pretty so he won’t get tired of me hehe! Not that it’ll be a problem, I just need to keep on his diet, God who knew it would be this good! I don’t even remember whatever problems we had before all this and I can’t imagine anything better than getting fucked by him <3 Ah! He he~ He’s staring at my ass right now so I guess it’s time for another round! Can’t thank our R.A. enough for this idea, well he he I’ve got an idea for how to thank him, oh! Drew’s ripped off his jock! Wish me luck he he~

Drew:

My little bitch is so tight, fuck. I’m surprised he can even take my cock but god can he ride it. Gonna have a hard time taking a break from fucking him to even hit the gym. Need to make sure the twink keeps up the diet tho or we’ll have an issue. Be sure to make him come to the gym whenever I do, if not to tighten up then to watch me heh. Won’t hate fucking him in the locker room too. Mm, God his fucking tiny body makes me feel so powerful. And I fucking am. God my bis are the size of his thick thighs, fuck his ass. My cock is straining my jock just thinking about it. His tiny waist ugh, I need my sweaty body over him now. Not like he’ll mind, the horny fucker. Mmm hope he’s ready to take my cock, bet his mouth is already watering heh. Pop my pecs at him and he’ll struggle not to cum on the spot, he better keep it together until I let him though. Can’t be having my bitch blow his load that fast. Thank fuck he’s chilled out finally, though I guess my cock’ll work wonders on anyone >:) speaking of it’s about that time again. Hope he’s ready for some more action, hate to have to find another hole.

[luveline]

Jade omg i love coworker james so much!! I was hoping i could request them taking the elevator up to their office together and it breaking down and them being stuck together!! Super cliche but i think it could be really cute and fun and that you’d write it so well!

You decide today is the day you stop pretending to forget something in your car. James has been nice lately. He does still hide your mug everyday, and he acts like an idiot at your desks. Just yesterday he made a parachute for one of his little figurines and made it land in your lunch. But he keeps saving you when you’re in trouble, and he might think he has to do it but it’s not true. 

If something goes wrong, James is the one who helps you out. Maybe it’s proximity, but maybe he’s just not the jerk you pegged him to be. 

So you’re being brave. You get out of your car, to James’ surprise, and you give him a teeny tiny smile. “Morning,” you say, making your way to the office steps, and following closely behind him. 

“Morning,” he says, looking back. He holds open the door for you without further comment. 

You walk in through the building’s lobby and past the main receptionist to the twin elevators. There’s a downstairs to the building, the lab, where the company conducts their water safety testing, and an upstairs where you and James and your colleagues work. He hits the elevator button on the right, you both wait for it to come down. 

“Did you see about that movie?” you ask. 

“I did!” He laughs at himself generously. “You’ll have to be more specific, I’m afraid.” 

“Crazy, if you gave me like, two more seconds before you interrupted, I would’ve specified.” You catch yourself scowling and soften your expression. “You know, the movie you told me about with the aliens that can hear you from ten miles away.” 

“Oh. What was I supposed to see about it?” 

You should’ve waited in the car. The elevator descends and the doors open. James waits for you to go in first before he follows, and you let him click your floor number as you lean against the mirror. 

You elect to wait in silence as the elevator chugs up, and up, and.

It stops short with a horrible sharp sound you’ve never heard it make. 

James looks at you, then the control panel. The doors don’t open. “That’s fucked,” he says hotly. 

“We stopped too early, right?” 

“No, no way.” He clicks the open door button, waiting approximately half a second before he starts to spam it. 

“Wait, what if you mess it up?” 

“Mess it up? It’s stuck.” 

You glare at him. “It’s not stuck.” 

“It’s stuck.” James slams his hand into the emergency button and waits with a frown for it to ring. “Hello?” he asks. 

“James, it’s still ringing.” 

“I’m glad this is funny to you,” he says. 

You hide your smile. You’d been unnerved by the sound, sure, but the elevator isn’t creaking or whining, it’s just stopped. There’s an inkling of worry growing in your chest. You’re perhaps a smidge too tired to panic. It’s barely 8AM. 

And James’ reaction is wildly comical. He glares at the control panel and rings the emergency button again, and again. Nobody answers. After a few long seconds of this, the control panel goes dark, backlit numbers fading. 

The overhead light blinks out. 

It’s quite dark without it. 

“What the fuck?” James asks. Surprisingly, he sounds less panicked than before. “The electrics gone. A power cut?” 

“It’s really dark,” you say unhelpfully. 

“If only I had one of my darling Smiskis to light up the lift.” James takes his phone from his pocket and turns on the torch, your eyes aching but then thankful for the added illumination. You can see his face again, the tug of a brow too handsome to be meant for grumpiness, and the confused pout of his lips. He has a lovely face, with sweet eyes, dark brown hair framing it, and the aura around him when he’s smiling is lovely too.  He’s a little less lovely when he frowns, but not by much. “I’m gonna shout,” he warns you. 

You and James spend that first half an hour believing the lift to be a short problem. Then another half an hour on the phone to Remus and then your boss, who assures you both that the maintenance team will fix it within the hour. “Within the hour?” James says to you where you’ve sat cross-legged on the floor. “Within the hour? How long do they think we’ve been in here?” 

“Maybe we can call the fire brigade to come and save us?” you suggest quietly. You and James are in very close quarters. His shouting has hurt your head. 

“They might have to. Why does nobody know what’s wrong with the lift? Are they really that complicated?”

James sits down beside you dejectedly. The lift is snug, but there’s room for him to sit further away that he doesn’t use. 

“You okay?” you ask. 

“Fine.” 

You open your bag in your lap and unveil your thermos. It comes with a cup as the lip. “Do you want some hot chocolate?” 

James tips his head back against the wall. “Yes,” he says, “okay. You never finished telling me about the alien movie anyways. What’s the news?” 

You smother a smile. “I’m not telling you. You should’ve listened to me the first time.” 

For some reason, you don’t argue once in the two hours you spend stuck. Not after the initial bickering. You drink your hot chocolate and you end up sitting together watching the trailer for the movie on your phone, and neither of you move away after. That is, until the elevator flicks back on and the doors are being pried open —you spring apart, caught red handed enjoying each other's company. 

[moonstruckme]

You asked for doctor remus request and here is am 😅 This is a fully self indulgent request as i’m sick rn and i’m all alone and i have to still do everything and take care of everything and i just want doctor remmy to put me on bed rest and just dote on me and make me soup and hug me when i cry like a baby because i always turn into such a mess and just want to be cared for??? Hope you have a great night/day lovely!! 💕

Hope you have a great day/night as well!

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 631 words

You’d both been sure your supply of cough drops would last you through the night, but Remus is beginning to lose faith. It breaks his heart hearing you try to quiet yourself, your back convulsing as you press your face into your pillow. You’d tried to sleep on the couch, then when that didn’t work tried to get him to sleep on the couch, but Remus won’t be separate from you. It doesn’t matter to him how late the both of you are kept awake. He’s already called in for tomorrow anyway, just like he did for today. 

“Do you want some tea?” he asks. 

“No, thanks,” you manage, coughing around every syllable. 

He hums his understanding and sets a hand on your back, moving it up and down your spine in a motion he hopes will console you. Heat radiates from your skin, still not enough to really worry him but enough that he’s sure you’re feeling muddled and exhausted. You hadn’t slept much last night either. 

At his touch you curl in on yourself as if pained, and the noise that escapes you sounds so broken Remus sits up. Though the light coming in through the window is dim, he can see the dejection etched into the lines of your expression and the shiny wetness of your eyes. 

A low sound slips from the back of his throat. Remus slides his hand up to your shoulder, drilling his thumb in small circles over your collarbone. “What is it, honey, is your head still bothering you?” 

His sympathy worsens your crying, which worsens the coughing. Remus waits for the fit to pass, thumb moving over your skin all the while. 

“Yeah,” you say once you can manage. “Everything hurts. I’m so tired of this, Rem. I want to sleep, and I just—” Furiously, you take a tissue from the nightstand, blowing your nose. “I just want my fucking ears to pop.” 

Remus could almost laugh at the way the curse hiccups out of you, if you didn’t sound so pitiful. 

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmurs. You turn over to face him, and he cups your face in the basin of his palm. When you close your eyes, he strokes the skin beneath with his thumb. His poor girl, so desperate for comfort. He wishes terribly this was one of the ailments he could just banish in a day. “You should start to feel better soon.” 

Remus realized your cold had turned into a sinus infection after it suddenly got worse when it was supposed to be getting better. He got you on antibiotics that same day, but unfortunately they don’t work quickly enough to save you the misery of the early stages. You’ve been plagued with the cough, a blocked up nose, and a relentless headache since yesterday morning. 

The good news is, sinus infections aren’t contagious. 

Remus gives you a kiss. Your lips are warm and slightly chapped, and you taste like the soup he’d made you for dinner. He knows he can’t convey all his love and caring through the press of his mouth, but he tries anyway. 

“Do you want me to warm up the flannel for your sinuses again?” he asks.

You sniffle, looking guilty. “I don’t want you to have to get up.” 

“I’m up,” Remus says, kissing a salty tear off your cheek before sitting upright. “Sure you don’t want some tea, dove? I’ll be in the kitchen anyways, and it can cool while you lay with the flannel.” 

“Yes, please,” you murmur. You reach up a hand out of the covers, and he takes it as he rounds the bed, squeezing obligingly. “Thank you, Rem.” 

“Don’t mention it,” he tells you. 

In the end, you’re not awake long enough to drink your tea. 

[passivenovember]

(sharing again because I'm so proud of this one)

When Billy Falls in Love

--

Max's hair is twisted into a rough pink towel when she answers the door. She’s got a berry sorbet sunburn peeking through the angry red flush on her cheeks, freckles looking like they could peel off at any moment. It’s the same way Billy gets in the summertime, but he turns gold in seconds.

Max stays angry red. 

She wasn’t at the pool today. Steve knows because he was at the pool fifteen minutes ago, and Billy wasn’t there. And if Billy’s gone so is Max, and if Max is here-- 

“He’s not here. What’s with the flowers?” Max wonders, with her teeth pulling at the wrapper of a Scoops brand popsicle as she eyes the poorly picked and assembled bouquet of daisies and weeds Steve managed to convince the gardener to let him snag. 

Steve can tell she doesn’t really want to know what the deal is. Maybe she already knows. 

Max is fourteen and a perpetually bored pain in the ass, already moving to shut Steve out of the house when he jams his foot so the door won’t close. 

Max tugs on it. Groans. “Steve,” Max says, sounding tired.

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know because we don’t keep tabs on each other, you psycho.”

“Bullshit,” Steve says. Neil’s car isn’t in the driveway, he almost points out.

Doesn’t.

Max almost cracks a smile, seeming to hear him anyway. If Neil’s gone that leaves Billy to play guard dog. “If you care so much about my stupid brother all of a sudden--”

“--All of a--”

“Get in your stupid shitty car and go drive around until you find him,” Max says, like. Get lost.

They’re so similar it burns. Chars licking over Steve’s skin in the shape of how they sneer and heckle the same, and they’re both so smart that Steve has to do math and study chemistry, and perform mental gymnastics just to keep up.

There’s a lot to latch on to, Steve’s hands slip over it like a gymnast missing the high bar. 

The way she’s looking at him, the way Max said all of a sudden like Steve’s done something wrong--

“He used to drive you around,” Steve says, like. Aha. “Don’t you give a shit?”

About him? 

About his bones and blood. 

Max shrugs. “Why should I?”

And. Steve’s an idiot but he remembers how it was before, back when this whole thing started. His lips, red and tender from sucking on any piece of Billy he could find. His fingers, tugging on worn belt loops and begging for a night on Loch Nora and that dull, exhausted phrase gotta watch my sister sinking a hole in Steve’s hope.

“It’s summer,” Max says after a minute, irritated, “We have an arrangement in the summer. June to Labor Day I do what I want, Billy fucks off for a bit, and we always show up here right when--”

“His car's gone,” Steve says. Because she owes it to him and his months and months of blue balls at her lack of self-preservation. She owes it to Billy.

“His car’s gone because he’s not here, Steve, we just went over this--” 

Max moves to slam the door and Steve holds it open, trying to ignore the hollow feeling that spreads through his stomach. “Why are you acting weird?” Steve demands.

“I’m not acting weird, you’re the one who’s trying to break into my house because Billy stepped out for five minutes,” Max tugs on the door, groaning dramatically, “C’mon Steve--”

Steve clutches the bouquet of flowers close to his chest. “We���re supposed to go see a movie.”

Max stops pulling on the door, all the attitude cut from her with something dull. 

Steve swallows. His nails dig into the palm of his free hand. Steve feels blood swell, but it’s probably just sweat. “Billy. He’s not on a date--”

“Look, Steve,” Max says suddenly, sounding. Much older and wiser than she did five seconds ago. “I like you. You’re cute and dumb but you’re annoyingly sweet and thoughtful. You’re tall, too. You’ve probably failed freshman biology a couple of times.--”

“--I--”

“Shut up,” Max tells him, and Steve swears there’s a bit of green swirling in all that red, embarrassment mixing like watercolor. “Can I be honest with you, Steve?”

Steve nods. He takes his foot from the door jam and rubs his hand on his jeans. Shudders as the feeling in his stomach ebbs and swirls and gets so much worse.

“You’re not his fucking boyfriend,” Max says, and slams the door in his face.

--

“Well. To be fair, she’s not wrong.”

Steve grips the steering wheel. The leather crackles and squeals with the skin of his palms, giving way to the rumble of the engine when he turns the car onto Park Avenue. 

“Jesus,” Eddie snaps, his free hand scrambling to brace against the passenger door while the bouquet teeters dangerously on his lap, “You don’t have to take the turns so fast, Harrington--”

“I can’t believe she said that.”

“--Fucking Evel Kenevil--”

“I mean. I’m practically his boyfriend, right?”

“Sure, and you’ll still be ‘practically his boyfriend,’ even if you drive at the speed limit.”

“Thought you said Max wasn’t talking out of her ass, Munson?”

“Look, I’m allowed to take things minute by minute. I’m just saying,” Eddie tightens the seatbelt against his chest, “You haven’t exactly popped the question.”

“You think Billy’s the kind of guy who--”

“Yeah,” Eddie says casually. “He’s exactly the kind of guy who wants to be asked out. I’ve seen the way he picks flowers and puts them in his own hair when he thinks no one’s looking.”

Steve snorts. “When has he ever done that?”

“We hang out, you know,” Eddie tells him, in lieu of an answer. “When you’re not around, we hang out loads--”

“Maybe you’re Billy’s mystery man,” Steve says only half serious. Mostly joking. 

Eddie flushes deep red, “Anyway. This bag of weeds is a good start,” He mumbles, twisting the fat head of a dandelion gently between two fingers.

Steve doesn’t have it in him to unpack any of what that might mean.

They’ve been driving for what feels like hours. The sky has turned hazy, floating in that honey-dipped place between dayglow and starlight. The world will be gold, soon, and then dark. Midnight black. 

Hawkins is a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it affair. A shithole. Billy only has a handful of places to hide.

Steve presses a little harder on the gas, knowing in the very pit of himself that this is crazy. This is insane, driving around like a bat out of hell with Eddie Munson, but Billy likes Eddie Munson. Steve tolerates him. And Robin’s at camp, so.

Eddie clutches the door again with another sharp, sudden turn. “Harrington--”

“I’m not dropping you off until I find him.”

“Alright,” Munson grumbles. He lights a cigarette and stares out the window for half a neighborhood block and then says, “How do you know he’s not at home, already?”

Steve grips the steering wheel, convinced Eddie wasn’t listening the first time. “Maxine said--”

“That was an hour ago.”

“Neil doesn’t get off until seven, if Billy’s gone he wont be back until six-thirty at the earliest.”

Eddie checks the dash. “It’s six-thirty now.”

“Do you wanna die today, freak?”

“God, you’re so unpleasant,” Eddie says, handing his cigarette over, anyway, “You’re the worst, actually. Worse than I ever imagined and I’ve imagined it a lot when Billy and Dustin yap their fucking gums about how great you are.”

Steve takes a harsh pull from the cigarette. Coughs and hands it back. 

Eddie takes it from him. Ash gathers on the cherry but he’s got no self-awareness. 

“If you get ash in my flowers, Munson--”

“Jesus Christ, would you give it a rest? He’s gonna love them. He’ll probably cry, once he’s done beating the shit out of you.”

Silence falls, lurid and uncomfortable, and Steve realizes Munson is watching him. Staring at him, 

“This is insane boyfriend behavior, Harrington,” Eddie says.

“So, you admit I’m his boyfriend?” Steve tries weakly, in lieu of what he means. Why Should I Take Advice from You?

“I’m saying this is boyfriend behavior but you won’t be a boyfriend for long, once he finds out what we’re doing.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Steve grits his teeth. “What are we doing that’s so wrong, Munson?”

“Hunting him. Like a couple of crazy fucking bloodhounds.”

“We had a date,” Steve tells Eddie again. For the eightieth time. “Billy’s never missed a date so he’s either dead or dying or riding some other guy’s--”

Eddie bangs his head against the window.

Steve rolls the window down for him if only to protect the integrity of the Beemer. “Look, I know it doesn’t make sense to you, but I know Billy. And he wouldn’t just disappear without--”

“You’re not his dad,” Eddie tells him, and Steve.

Steve doesn’t have time to get into all the reasons that’s spot -fucking-on. He’s not Billy’s dad, because Steve loves Billy. To his bones and beyond, a little knob of heartache swirling around each nucleus of every atom in the very core of him.

Steve loves Billy so much it gets him into trouble.

Eddie sucks down his smoke again, like, “You’re really doing all this for a missed date?”

“What’s it to you?”

“I’m just saying,” Eddie shrugs, “I heard stories about you and the Wheeler chick. Seems like she missed a lot of dates at the end and you never did anything like this for her.”

“Billy’s not Nancy. Billy’s not like anyone, he’s--”

“Holy shit,” Eddie says, coughing. “You. You’re not just blowing smoke up my ass, you’re serious about him.”

And.

Munson says it like it’s a shock. 

Like Steve Harrington’s not capable of loving anything but himself. His hair and his house on the hill and this stupid fucking car and maybe that’s what the losers at Hawkins High think, but they’re wrong. 

Way wrong. Stuck four years in the past.

Steve has to bite down against every harsh word on the tip of his tongue, tear the sentences apart and swallow them down because of course he’s worried.

Steve’s worried all the time about a lot of things when it comes to this crush he’s been nursing for a year and a half. Steve worries if Billy sleeps enough, for one. If Neil was in a good mood today. How many new bruises Steve will have to cover with hickies the next time they see each other, paint all that hurt over with something good.

It makes him crazy.

Steve worries all the time if Billy loves him. If actually saying it makes a difference.

Steve wonders most of all how much money and begging it’ll take to get Billy out of that house on Cherry Lane. Steve’s spent many restless nights doing the math in his head, staring at the popcorn ceiling as he imagines taking Billy away from here. And if Steve’s taking Billy home, to the coast, then he’s taking Max, too.

So whatever number, whatever dollar amount Steve’s gotta hoard to make it happen--he’d better take it and multiply it by seven, because. Steve’s going to lasso the moon and give it to Billy in a bouquet of yellow daisies. 

If it kills him. 

He’s going to find Billy tonight and tell him the truth if it kills him--

“We’ve gone down this street, already,” Eddie says.

“You’re not helping.”

“I'm just pointing out the obvious.”

“And I’m just pointing out--”

“Look, if you care about Billy so much, why don’t you respect his privacy?” Eddie demands. Somewhere, along the way, he ashed his cigarette on the dashboard.

Steve wants to check the flowers. 

Can’t find it within himself to be angry about that. “I just want to make sure he’s okay. If something happened to him and I wasn’t there to make it better and figure out how to stop it from happening again--”

“God, you’re such a brownie,” Eddie snaps, turning from the window. “What if he ditched you because he’s not into you anymore, Harrington?  What if Billy got tired of waiting for you to pull your head out of your ass and stop obsessing over him where no one else can see it? What if he’s sick of being the plaything you fuck in the dark?”

Steve swallows. Feeling so, so small.

“Everyone says you’re a changed man,” Eddie gets closer, somehow. Looms. “What if Billy thinks you’re bullshit?”

Steve pulls the car to the side of the road. In front of them, hazy with the dregs of the afternoon, a coal brown sign announces that Hawkins will soon be a spot on a map left somewhere far, far away. 

Everything in that shitty little town hangs over him. Feels so huge. Max and Neil and his parents and graduation and the last month of summer, sitting bigger than the sky. 

The engine thrums underneath them and Steve swallows, turning against his seatbelt. “If Billy doesn’t love me,” Steve says, easy and slow, “He can say it to my face.”

Eddie blinks. 

Steve can sense the cogs turning, underneath all that hair. Brown like his, curly like Billy’s. “It won’t change how you feel about him?” Eddie asks. 

And Steve realizes, like a punch to the gut, that Eddie Munson cares about this.

About Billy.

He’s worried, too, in his own twisted, guard-dog best friend kinda way. It reminds Steve of Robin. Dustin, too, always baring their teeth at Billy because they’re not fully convinced that this thing between them will survive the summer.

That Steve would survive losing this. 

He wishes, a deep ache thrumming in his chest, that everyone would either get it or fuck off.

“I love him,” Steve says easily, “Love isn’t something that stops just because the other person’s come to their fucking senses about how much of a loser you are. It isn’t something you say because you want to hear it back. I’ve loved him for a year and a half and I’ll love him even when he realizes I’m not half good enough.”

Eddie smirks. It’s slow and terrible.

“Alright, Harrington,” He leans back in his seat and nods, satisfied. “I think I know where our boy is hiding.”

--

Duane county used to house to the only mall within a hundred miles until Starcourt. 

It’s a small and bustling and annoyingly progressive city, compared to Hawkins, and Steve isn’t the least bit surprised that Billy would run to a place like this to hide for a while.

What surprises him is that Billy knows how to skateboard. 

He’s riding the half pipe, so focused on the concrete that laps like waves under the wheels of his long, colorful board that Billy doesn’t notice when the Beemer’s engine cuts and Steve opens the driver’s side door. 

Eddie doesn’t move. 

“You coming?” Steve asks, frowning when Eddie sparks something too pale and skinny to be a cigarette.

“Nah, you go ahead.”

“You don’t wanna give me your blessing?” Steve wonders, suddenly terrified that Billy won’t go steady with him if he doesn’t see the irritatingly awful face of his best friend giving the thumbs up. 

Eddie hands Steve the bouquet. It’s crushed and it smells like dope.

“Billy’s gonna take one look at these sorry fucking flowers and break up with me,” Steve grumbles, his nose scrunching, and.

Eddie smiles at him. 

It’s soft and real, and kind of beautiful, and Steve gets why Chrissy Cunningham is apparently head over heels for the guy. 

“He loves you, too,” Eddie says, like, “Go on. Quit stalling. Don’t think your big love confession will feel the same if I have told your hand through it.”

Steve slams the door, and Billy floats to the top of the half-pipe with the echo of it. He looks like an angel in the clouds, shirtless with his skin golden in the setting sun, jeans slung low on his hips. The curly, bronze tendrils of hair Steve will always remember the feel of are swooped back in a scrunchie.

Max’s scrunchie.

Billy squints across the parking lot and recognizes Steve, his expression clouding over immediately. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He demands.

Steve waddles across the parking lot, “Eddie’s here,” He calls, like an idiot.

“So?” You fucking him now?”

“No, I--”

“What are you doing here, Harrington?”

Steve almost trips over himself, knees with with nerves. Billy does that to him, always. Forever.

The half-pipe is huge up close, looming like the mast of some ancient, terrible ship and Billy is the pirate waiting to throw him overboard. “We had a date,” Steve says.

Out of breath.

Weak.

“I had to get out of that house,” Billy shades his eyes with one hand, holding the long board aloft with his bare foot. He doesn’t say anything for a long, terrible moment and then he says, “Whatcha got there, pretty boy?” 

“Flowers,” Steve tells him.

“Flowers,” Billy mocks softly. There’s no bite.

He considers the moment. The Scene. Steve Harrington, with flowers clutched to his chest and the dingy little park beyond that and Eddie Munson, probably, hanging from a cloud of marijuana smoke as the afternoon crashes into nightfall.

As Steve crashes and burns.

Steve holds his breath. Billy glides down the half pipe, seeming to ride on the wind until he comes to a delicate, perfect stop in front of him. 

He smells like peaches. 

He’s been eating peaches. Billy’s hands are sticky when he grabs the bouquet, and Steve’s skin lights on fire from his touch. 

It’s so usual. It’s brand new every time.

“You bought me flowers?” Billy asks, pinning Steve with a clear, vibrant stare. 

His eyes are so blue. So beautiful--

“I didn’t buy them, I. I picked them,” Steve says dumbly, “The gardener was going to clear them away, but. I wanted to pick some for our date. I always pick you up on the way but I never bring anything, and I thought. Maybe Neil wouldn’t notice who they were for if it seemed like someone just picked them from a garden. Or the side of the road,” Billy snorts, and Steve nearly breaks an ankle trying to recover, “But I’ve thought about it, and they’re almost out of season, so the gardener--”

“--Right--”

“And. I see them every morning, from my bedroom window, and they remind me of you. Pretty and. Golden, so. I caught the gardener just in time, and i had to pay him $5 to let me pick ‘em before he cleared them away. They’re pretty. Right? I wanted--”

Billy sniffs the daisies first. His eyes close, lashes casting long, noir shadows over the cinnamon freckles on his cheeks and Steve aches to live forever in this moment. To scrape the image into his mind so it can live there, in a house made in Billy’s image. 

“Some of these are weeds,” Billy tells him.

“I--”

“Are you in love with me, Harrington?” Billy rubs the petals of one flower with his thumb, watching as the stems knock together. He’s holding the bouquet like it’s made of glass. Like it might shatter and crumble away if he’s not careful, and Steve.

Feels that way about Billy.

“I,” Steve tries again,

“Thanks for the flowers,” Billy says, and he turns to go.

“Wait,” Steve says. Begs. He almost reaches to stop Billy but he doesn’t want to hurt him. 

Billy stops. Waits. 

Something sharp and fragile sits there, just under the layer of indifference Steve was always too stupide to notice before, but.

“I love you,” Steve says. He sounds strangled. Drowning. 

It hurts.

It hurts and it really, really doesn’t when Billy flushes red. “I love you, too.”

And. 

Steve’s going to catch on fire at any moment. “You love me,” He repeats, testing the words. He doesn’t trust them to hold his hope. Doesn’t think Billy means it how Steve aches and dreams he does. “You love me, like. How you love Max? Or Eddie? Like a friend who you want to suck off sometimes--”

“Eddie and I are just friends,” Billy says, quickly. His gaze is steady on Steve’s face. “I don’t need anyone else for that, I have. You.”

He does. 

He really does.

Billy’s watching Steve like he’s expecting him to say something else, and maybe he is. Has been, for as long as they’ve been sliding inside of each other. Steve was just too dumb to get it before now. 

So he straightens his spine. Clears his throat. Says, “Well. I love you like I want to take you on dates. And introduce you to my parents. I want you to go steady with me and wear my letter--”

“We can’t do that sort of stuff, Harrington.”

“I know.”

“Well, then, why’d you say it?”

“Because it’s what I want,” Steve snaps. Like, “You’re so annoying.”

“It was your idea,” Billy smirks. It’s beautiful. It’s Steve’s second favorite thing, second only to his laugh. And the soft curve of his lips. Billy fiddles with one of the weeds and says, “You don’t even have a letter to give me.”

“Neither do you, asshole,”

“So now what?” Billy demands, his arms flaring wide, “You’re gonna say you want to go steady with me and we’re not gonna do it? Tease.”

Steve rolls his eyes to the heavens, grumbling as they plop wetly on the sun-warmed earth. Billy’s still barefoot and Steve wonders how his toes aren’t burning. “How are your toes not burning?” He demands.

“They are,” Billy tells him, annoyed.

And then. 

Steve gets an idea.

He sits on the ground and pulls both shoes off.

“What are you doing?” Billy snaps, but Steve can hear a smile in his voice, curling tendrils through the teasing annoyance that has made him so different from anyone Steve has ever loved before. “Steve--”

“Here,” Steve says, standing to hold the shoes out in front of him. He hops from one foot to the other as his heels start to burn.

Billy stares at the Nike’s as if they’re coiled snakes. Like if he takes them, they’ll burrow under his toenails and poison him from the inside out. “I don’t get it--”

“I don’t have a letter, but. People might see you in them and get it, right? When has anyone ever seen Billy Hargrove in a pair of Nike’s?”

Billy blinks, confused.

“You’re mine,” Steve says. “So they’re yours. Take them,”

Billy considers him for a long moment and then sets the bouquet on the ground. “Wait here,” He says, and skates off around the bend in the half pipe.

Steve’s feet are on fire.

He’s hopping dramatically, and in the distance he can hear Eddie laughing, and Steve’s going to kill him, but then.

Billy’s back and he’s holding his boots in his hands. “Here,” He says, “Eye for an eye, right?”

And Steve doesn’t need to be told twice. He slips into the worn leather, pleasantly surprised at how comfortable they are. His feet thank him, the raging fire finally simmering.

Steve watches Billy. 

The careful way his fingers lace the Nike’s onto his feet. How his hips shift his weight when he stands. Billy walks in a slow, timid circle, “Shit, Harrington,” He says thickly, “I’ve never been someone’s boyfriend before.”

Steve shrugs, “I’ve never had a boyfriend, before.”

“Think we’ll be any good at it?” Billy asks. He squats deeply, popping back up with a wide, beautiful smile planted pretty as a forest on his face.

It beams itself, magically, onto Steve’s. Startles a bright, hysterical laugh from somewhere deep inside of him. 

“You’re perfect,” Steve says. Nothing has ever felt more true.

[desswright29]

Come Find Me

Word Count: 4,3k

Contains: ANGST!, Fluff, Cheating, Mind control, Sexual Content (18+), Heartbreak

A/n: Sorry this took so long. I had a lot going on. Whew! But here we are and I hope you guys enjoy the ANGST!

I've seen this place before

A color blinded senseless sight to see

And when it rains, only rains on me

Memories. These memories where the fuck were they coming from? They swirl around her head like a tornado. Constantly causing her variance. The memories all with Rianna, felt so existent, so tangible. It wasn’t a daydream. They were memories, they were there right in her head. But she didn’t remember making them. It was driving her towards insanity. She was always inside her head trying to figure it out and lately she’d seemed aloof. Unaware of things going on around her. What is wrong with me. Something isnt right.

“Shuri!” Shuri jumped at the sound of her name being yelled suddenly snapping back to reality. Where she sat on her thrown, surrounded by the elders and Dora Milaje.

“Are you here with us your highness or is there something more important than the topic we’re discussing?” Shuri looked around the throne room as everyone stared into her. Okoye, Ayo, and Aneeka with concern etched in their faces.  

She cleared her throat, tugging on the jacket of her suit. “I-I apologize. I am not feeling well today. The safety of our country is always a priority for me. The barriers are consistently checked and reinforced. There is no threat to Wakanda’s safety at the moment. Now if you don’t mind I would like to wrap this up. Thank you all for your dedication. This meeting is adjourned.” Shuri stands and everyone follows with a salute. Shuri returns the gesture as she strolls out of the throne room. Okoye, Ayo, and Aneeka close behind. 

“Ikumkazi wam? Is everything ok. You’ve been a bit out of sorts lately.” Aneeka spoke up. This had not been an isolated event. Shuri zoning out had become a consistent thing and it was raising concern. “Uh. Yea of course I’m fine. Just a bit tired lately.” Shuri deflected.

“Well maybe you and you’re wife should slow down with all of your congicals. That would probably save the majority of both of your energy.” Okoye added with a sly smile, eyebrow raised high. Shuri can’t help but smile at the mention of your name. She let’s out a sarcastic “Ah ha. Actually, that might be exactly what I need” She smirked. “I should probably go get fed. That’ll boost my energy. I have to get all of my nourishment.” She winked. And Okoye scrunched her face in disgust. “That is disgusting Shuri! Keep your nuptials to yourself!” It was pointless Shuri was already bouncing down the hall happily, in the direction of her wife.

So what can I say but I'm hoping

The hour will still turn to golden

We will see the sun as it's supposed to be

Shining straight through to you and me

You pace outside of the bathroom door wringing your hands together nervously. Tolu sat on the bench infront of your and Shuri’s bed quietly watching you drive yourself into a nervous break down. “Ok Y/n.” Tolu stands and walks over to you grabbing your hand in hers. “You’re making me dizzy. You have to stop. Come on take a deep breath with me.” You stop staring into Tolu’s eyes, taking a deep shakey breath along with her. “One more” You both repeat. “Okay girl! It’s time. I’m right here with you. Do you want me to check it or would you like to do the honors.”

“Can you do it? I don’t think I can. I’m a wreck right now.” Tolu smiles and walks into the bathroom. Your mind races as you sit on the bed. Heart racing and palms sweaty fidgeting with your fingers. Tolu emerged from the bathroom and your eyes immediately draw to the white stick in her hand. Leaning against the frame of the door she gives you an almost unreadable expression until she couldn’t control the twitch in her lips. “Congratulations Umama. You’re having a babyyyy!!” Tears welled in her eyes a broad smile covering her face. Your eyes grew wide. Your hands mindlessly landing on your tummy, a choked gasp releasing itself from your chest. You stand, hurriedly brushing past Tolu heading to the bathroom counter, staring down at the other two test, both reading pregnant as plain as day. Turning back around to your friend tears quickly began to flow down your face. She rushes to you holding you in her arms. “It’s happening y/n! It’s real girl.” 

Leading you over to the bed, sitting holding eachother as you cry tears of joy. “Lu, I can’t believe it worked! I-I really have a peice of Shuri growing inside of me! And we’re both women! How could I not be in love with this woman she’s fucking brilliant!” You pull away as both of you fall into laughter. Tolu giving a playful roll of her eyes. “She’s alright I guess.” You giggle knowing neither Tolu nor Shuri would ever give eachother that much credit. “We’re going to be mommies Lu! Oh Bast! What if we’re terrible parents!” Tolu scoffs.

“Ah ah! Stop there and be realistic. There are no two people on the planet more qualified than the two of you to be parents. You both have been through hell and fought for this moment. You’re deserving of this and you’re going to enjoy it! No negativity. This is a happy time.” You sniff and nod in agreement. “I love you, girl. You’re the best friend a girl could have.” 

“I love your crazy ass too” You both laugh embracing eachother once again. Pulling away you wipe the stray tears from your face. “Now I just have to figure out a special way to tell her!” You clap happily, excited for this new begining. As if on cue, you both hear the front door of the house open and close and turn to eachother in a panic. “Oh shit! She’s home. She can’t know yet!” You yell in a whisper. Both of you hop from the bed and rush into the bathroom to get the pregnancy tests. Trying to move around eachother getting flustered and whispering in hushed panicked tones “I have to throw them away.” 

“No! She’ll see them in the trash!”

“I’ll wrap them up. Duh!” You grab the tissue and began wrapping the test. “Still you can’t put them in the trash! Give them to me I’ll put them in my purse. Hurry up!” Running back into the room you both plop on the bed Tolu snatching her purse off the night stand and stuffing the test in her purse just in time for Shuri to walk in the room, with you and Lu putting on your best normal poses. She walked through the door to see you with Tolu and her face scrunched in faux disgust. She smacked her teeth and rolled her eyes. “Ew. I knew I smelled you. I thought Y/n was making oxtail.” She said entering the room, shutting the door behind her. Tolu looked over at her mirroring her expression, unamused.

“Funny. Since those Panther senses pick up my scent so well. Why didn’t they pick up on those pits you musty bit-“ You pop her arm before she could get it out.

“Don’t start that shit. Be nice today.” Shuri turns her lip up at Tolu as she walks over to peck you on the lips and Lu rolls her eyes. 

“She started with me first, but Aaaanyway, I was just getting ready to head out.” She stands clutching her purse as though she held the worlds most precious jewels. 

“Best news I’ve got all day.” Shuri smirked at her. “Shuri you can kiss my ass and meow at the hole.” Shuri wrapped an arm around her stomach and brought her hand to her mouth pretending she would vomit. “Yeaaaa get that hairball outta there feline. I’m sure it’s building up from all the pussy you eat around here.” Shuri smiles and licks her lips as she nods. “True, True” Tolu’s face distorted into an amused grimace. “Ugh!”

“Now how the hell did I catch a stray in the middle of y’all beef. I stay waxed.” You butt in.

“It gets a lil fuzzy sometimes babe but I like it! Adds a little texture.” Your mouth drops open and your face contorts as all of you burst into laughter. Tolu wraps an arm around Shuri’s torso in a hug and Shuri kisses the top of her head. “I’m headed out weirdos. Love you guys.” 

“Love you too.” You both call after her as she heads out.

“The two of you are going to be the death of me.” Shuri chuckles slightly as her arms wrap around your waist. You look up into those beautiful dark eyes and you see sadness lingering in the depths. “Baby what’s wrong?” The concern in your voice apparent as you place a hand on her face. “You’ve seemed a tad off lately is my love overwhelmed?” You began placing soft kisses on the line of her chiseled jaw. “Not entirely. I’m happy sweet girl. The happiest I’ve been in a long time. I just .. something feels off. I haven’t felt completely like myself. I don’t know. Maybe, I’m just a little stressed.” 

“What’s going on? What’s got you stressed? Riri isn’t giving you any issues is she because  she’s over due being sent home really.” Shuri smirks. “Anything to bring up getting rid of her before time huh love. She’s due home in a couple of days babe. You don’t stress yourself about that. She’s been straight as an arrow these last few weeks. We’re good mfazi. And I don’t need you stressing out my little seeds.” She bent down speaking to your belly. “Isn’t that right.” She placed a kiss to your tummy and stood back to her full height. “I’m not stressing over that bitch. I just don’t want her here anymore. I don’t care how unproblematic she’s being, I know she wants you.” 

“Ok sthandwa, that maybe so. But I want you. Only you. So none of that matters.” She tilts your head upwards with her pointer finger. And you melt into her touch. 

“You’re right. And we were talking about what was bothering you any way.”

“It doesn’t matter baby, I’m here now.” She kisses your neck. “And I know exactly how you can make me feel much much better.” She gave a bite and suck right underneath your jaw. “Mm. Oh really?” You felt her nod against your neck as she place her hands on your im waist slowly backing you up against a wall. “Mhmm”

“You don’t get enough of me daddy?” You giggle seductively. Pulling back, her eyes lower following every curve of your body. She bends and takes hold of the back of your knees lifting you and pressing you into the wall. “Never” You responded with a hum wrapping your legs around her waist. “You know I love you more than anything right. I promise you I’ll forever give you my all. I’m not perfect but I’ll do my best at it for you. Promise me you won’t ever give up on me my love. That we’ll always be this way no matter what.” Your hands massage the nape of her neck as you bring your foreheads together. “I promise sthandwa.”

I don't understand why you blame me

Just take me as I am, it's the same me

We should be together

So tell me where you go when you know better

“I PrOmiSe SthAnDwA! Oh please! Let’s cut this shit short. Stark activate the atoms send Shuri to the lab.” 

Riri demanded annoyed by your and Shuri’s interaction. “Sure thing kiddo”. Turning off her beads She stood from her bed making her way to make her way to the empty lab. It had been closed for the day to give the lab staff a much needed break. And Riri was going to use that to her advantage. The memories weren’t working. Allowing her to remember their rendezvous hadn’t been enough to make her fall in love with Riri without the use of the atoms. She treated those memories like annoying nats floating around her head. And as soon as Riri would deactivate the atoms she went crawling right back to her precious little wife. Obviously the basis of her experiment worked flawlessly. Her time with Shuri with the atoms had been delicious. Sensual and erotic. But she needed Shuri to love her. She couldn’t possibly control her mind forever without causing damage which is the only reason she didn’t keep the atoms activated at all times. Time was limited. Now was the time to tip the scales in her favor..

Shortly after entering the lab Riri felt strong arms circle her waist, a firm body pressing up against her back as a nose tickled her cheek. “Hello my love.” Riri smiled biting her lip and turning around in Shuri’s arms where she belonged. “Baby!” Her arms circled Shuri’s neck as she brought her down into a kiss. “I was missing you and these lips.” Shuri whispered against her mouth. “Never as much as I’ve missed you.” Shuri shook her head. “I beg to differ.”

“Oh really? Why don’t you show me joy much you’ve missed me then Panther.” A smirk rose on Shuri’s face as she lowered herself back onto Riri’s lips kissing her hungrily, while walking her backwards into one of the lab tables. Her hands went under Ri’s shirt carressing the soft skin of her abdomen sending shivers down her spine. 

“I love the way you touch me Shuri.” Ri whispers as her eyes closed savoring the feeling. “Not as much as I love touching you.” All of a sudden Ri was being lifted onto the lab table. She slid the jacket of Shuri’s suit from her shoulders revealing her bra. Tugging on the center of the bra she released one of Shuri’s breast instantly attaching herself to her nipple. Shuri threw her head back in ecstasy reaching to remove Riri’s shirt. Riri unattached herself from Shuri for a second to allow her to remove her shirt as she unhooked Shuri’s bra. Shuri began unbuttoning Ri’s pants as she lifted allowing Shuri to remove her panties along with her bottoms as Ri reciprocated. They were both now completely naked as Shuri straddled Riri’s thigh. Riri moved closer to the edge of the table lining her core up to Shuri’s thigh and they both began to move against one another. Shuri’s arms were on either side of Ri keeping them both balanced as she panted in Riri’s ear while they both used eachothers thighs to get off. 

“Sss mmm, Ri you feel so good against me.” Shuri moaned her breath tickling Riri’s neck. Riri’s hips bucked harder against Shuri her arms wrapped tightly around Shuri’s neck as she cried out. “Yes! T-Tell me h-how gooood I make you feel. Oh God!”

“S-so good! S-so f-fucking good!” Riri’s eyes fluttered open briefly, before snapping back open to see a blurry figure standing at the entrance of the lab. With a few blinks clearing the tears from her eyes, the figure took form into you. Ooohh this was deliciously perfect!! Riri almost came from sheer excitement! She took the moment to unwrap her right arm from around Shuri’s neck placing her hand at Shuri’s entrance. She slowly added  her ring and pointer fingers inside of her while pressing her palm into her sensitive bud as Shuri rocked harder onto her. “Oh fuck Ri! Just like that! I’m gonna cum!” 

“Yea baby cum for me. I’m gonna cum with you! Say my name when you cum for me. Let everybody know who’s pussy this is.” Ri panted into Shuri’s neck as both of their bodies began to shake both on the edge of their release. Knowing that you were watching as Shuri’s body quaked against hers, and that soon she would have Shuri to herself made Riri’s orgasam come quick and heavy along with Shuri. Her Juices pouring over her hand onto her thigh. Ri opened her eyes looking over Shuri’s shoulder as they both caught their breath, fully prepared for conflict. But you were  gone. What the fuck! Had she imagined it all. 

I love holding you, touching you

'Cause you help me deal with the pains

So how could you turn into

The demons you

Once said that you'd keep away?

“AAAARRRGGH!!” You scream as you remove the large wedding photo from the entrance of your home smashing it into the ground. You walked through your home destroying any semblance of your relationship with Shuri. Tears streaming down your face. Releasing agonizing screams. You’d trusted her. Fell for her lies. She was one hell of an actress. Making you believe she really loved you and the whole time she was fucking that BITCH! So that’s why she wouldn’t send her home! You start to feel faint from the stress. Heading to the nearest wall you balance yourself. Remembering your baby you wrap an arm around your tummy placing your back against the wall sliding to the floor. 

“Why Shuri? Whyyyyyy?” The last why escaping your throat in a shaky whimper. You look around at the damage you’d caused. It reinforced the pain you felt inside. And for the first time ever you no longer wanted to be there. 

“You hungry baby. We should probably get some food after that workout.” Shuri looked at Riri in all her naked glory still sitting on the lab table watching Shuri get dressed. She contemplated deactivating the atoms and sending Shuri back to you to be sure she wasn’t loosing her mind. “You ok Ri baby?” Concern etched itself in Shuri’s face as she walked over to her placing her hands on her naked thighs. Riri placed both hands on Shuri’s cheeks looking her in the eyes. 

“I’m so in love with you Shuri and I’ll do anything for you. You’re the best thing to ever happened to me.” Her eyes began to mist and Shuri captured her lips. 

“Heyyy, Hey beautiful don’t cry. I hate to see you cry.” Her voice soft and comforting. Riri smiled. “They’re happy tears. Because I have a feeling that after today no one will be in our way.”

“No one could ever be in our way. Because I love you.” Ri planted another kiss on Shuri before standing and gathering her clothes to put them back on. Once her clothes were back on she walked over and embraced Shuri.

“Soon that will be true.” She let go and with the press of a button Shuri was back to normal.

“Ms. Williams, why are you still in the lab. Go explore. Or get some rest. Relax for once. I’m going to spend some time with my wife.”

“I was just running in to grab something. I’m headed out now. I hope you and y/n have a wonderful day. I’ll see you later.” With that she walks out of the lab.

I'm in my feelings, I'm tired, I'm bleeding

I'm nothing, I'm choking without you

I become weak from the mountains

I'll scream 'til the morning wraps me back around you

Where the colors of your mind will turn around

And so will you too

Oh, no, no, no, don't let it go

Shuri walked out out of the lab. Heading home with a bounce in her step ready to curl up and relax with her wife. Once she reached the Queens wing her heart dropped as she noticed the commotion. Dora and staff scurried in and out of her home. Her face scrunched in confusion as she watched them remove things from inside. Your things. 

“You can just take that one down to my car.” Tolu walked out giving directions, when she spoted Shuri looking lost. 

“What’s going on Lu? Why are y/n’s things being taken.” Tolu walks up with one arm held out as Shuri proceeds forward “Shuri. I think it’s best you stay out here until she leaves.” Tolu placed a had in the center of Shuri’s chest attempting to push her backwards. 

“Leave? Leave where? Wh-what game are you two playing? Stop.” Shuri’s heart began to race.

“This is not a game Shuri. She’s not talking. I don’t know what you did. But you fucked up.” Shuri looked past Tolu towards the entrance to her home. Quickly she side stepped Tolu and made her way towards the door. 

“STOP! EVERYONE STOP! Put her things down now!” Everyone stopped looking at eachother confused on what to do. Stepping inside the first thing Shuri noticed was the wedding photo in peices on the floor. Her breathing became short and choppy as she looked around her living room. What the fuck was going on? Where were you? She hastily ran into the bedroom just in time to see you walking out of your closet with the last of your bags. 

“Baby what’s going on? What’s happening?” You only stare at her for a second face blank, grief hidden behind your eyes. Diverting your eyes you continue on your way. She steps infront of you grabbing at your bags. “NO! No y/n. Talk to me. W-What did I do?” She stuttered as her eyes began to water. Your eyes settled every where but on her as your lip began to tremble. Shuri’s movements followed the direction of your eyes as she tried getting you to look at her. “Y/n please.” She whispered. Stepping away you head towards the bathroom to grab a few things you’d missed. Shuri fell to her knees crawling after you. “B-baby, talk to me. I can fix it. Whatever it is I can fix it.” She sat on her knees in the doorway of the bathroom. Watching you pack up things. She was confused. Her mind reeling searching for the answer. The memories they were there but there’s no way she did that. No way she would ever betray your trust in that way again. 

It’s wasn’t me. It’s wasn’t me baby. Stay help me!

Shuri could hear herself screaming almost as though she was separate from herself. She shook her head. She started to get frantic as you stepped right past her walking out of the bathroom. She crawled after you again the tears flowing as she tried to catch her breath. Everywhere you went she was right behind you begging for understanding. 

“Please baby please just talk to me. I don’t understand! I’m begging you p-please d-don’t leave me! Everything was just fine! What could I have done!” She hiccuped through her tears. Finally you finished packing and headed towards your bags. Shuri got there before you, knocking over the bags and trying to get them open to take out your belongings. ��Stop Shuri.” She starts to open the bag and you grab the handle pulling at the bag. Shuri held tight making the bag rip open clothes flying everywhere as you stumbled backwards. “Fuck Shuri Stop it!! I’m leaving with or without this shit!” You try walking out but Shuri once again was on your trail. She crawled infront of you, wrapping her arms around your lower torso as she buried her face in your stomach. 

I’m lost sthandwa. Please don’t leave me here.

“What did I do baby?! What did I do? Please I-I can’t lose you. I’ll fix it umfazi wam. I’ll fix it. I need you! Don’t do this!” Your body trembled with sobs that you held inside as the dame broke. You hit a button on your beads. 

“Okoye, I need your assistance in leaving. She’s not letting me go.” You choked out. Shuri’s arms tightened around you. “Y/n what is going on?” In seconds Okoye was at the door. “Shuri. I think it’s best you let her go. Just come with me ok.” She walked over squatting next to her. 

“Just talk to me pleaaasssee.” Her jaw trembled as she sobbed into your stomach your shirt soaked in tears. She began to wheeze from lack of air. Her breaths shakey. Okoye and  Aneka grabbed hold of Shuri’s arms trying to release you from her grip. “You have to let her go. You’re hurting her Shuri.” Her grip loosened instantly. “I don’t want to hurt you baby. Just-Just let me fix it.” Okoye lifted Shuri to her feet.  “Come on Shuri. Give her time.”

“No no no! Just tell me what to do! I’ll do it!” Shuri was inconsolable as they carried her out of the house. “Let me go! I just want to know what I did! I just need to know how to fix it.” She began to sound as though she was choking sobs and breaths getting stuck inside her chest. Okoye pressed Shuri against the wall right outside of the door of her home. Grabbing her jaw and squeezing to open her airways she coached Shuri through her cries. “Breathe Shuri! You have to breathe!” Shuri let out a cough an agonizing cry not far behind. Okoye wrapped her in a hug gently placing her head onto her shoulder. Her body became weak with sobs as Okoye held her weight. Tolu walked over placing a comforting hand onto Shuri’s arm. Aneeka standing guard infront of them. “What did I do?” she continued to repeat. 

Finally you were able to walk out. You look in Shuri’s direction. Had you not witnessed what you did in that lab. The sight would’ve torn you to pieces. Her pressed into a wall to keep her stable with Okoye cradling her head like a baby’s. But all you could feel was hatred. Anger. Removing your Kimoyo beads and rings you drop them to the floor with a clang and walked away. Shuri released a grunt that sounded as though she’d been punched in the gut at the sound.

You were gone and she didn’t know why.

Please come find me.

Up on the mountain

Searched through the valley

You hear me calling

Won't you come find me?

Please don't forsake me

All of a sudden

My heart is breaking

I feel it coming

Taglist: @imjusthere2readbruv,@bubbleblowinggirl, @euph0ricx0,@bellaallebbella1, @minionslikeppl, @melanated-queen, @letitiasnyash, @tishlvr, @writtenbymarie, @doramilaj233, @lichuchin, @6-noir, @jackdrawsjunk, @Ippriceisright

[artiststarme]

Part 2 of the Van Vandalism fic but can be read as a stand-alone. This part was heavily influenced by a comment by @doubleb11 and @zerokrox-blog requesting a boyfriend for Steve lol.

~*~*~*~

Eddie had taken to spending all of his free time at Family Video. He couldn’t help it! Steve was so intoxicating and the more time Eddie spent with him, the more he wanted to hang around. It started with Steve loaning him the Beemer while he tried to raise enough money to replace the tires on his van. Eddie would drop him off at work then speed over to the garage to work his shift before hustling back over to Family Video to pick him up and take him home. Everything was going well and they had a system in place… 

Until Eddie found out that Steve sometimes forgot to pack a lunch on his long shifts. So, he had no choice but to add it to his schedule! Every weekday he would; pick up Steve, drop him off at work, go to the garage, take Steve some lunch, go back to the garage to finish his shift, pick up Steve, go out to dinner with him at the diner, take him home, sleep, then repeat. 

And what was he supposed to do when his day off didn’t align with Steve’s? Really, the only option he had besides being depressed in his trailer alone was hanging out with Steve at Family Video gossiping about the fellow people of Hawkins. It was a no brainer. He would take a seat up on the counter and talk to Steve while he rewound tapes or processed late fees. Hell, he even organized the shelves a time or two. Eddie thinks he was probably at Family Video more than Robin was and she worked there. 

It’s just… Steve was so perfect. He was kind and gentle and understanding. His kind actions spit in the face of what he used to be like in high school and it caused Eddie’s schooltime crush to return with a vengeance. It wasn’t like it was before in which Eddie would pine hopelessly and flee whenever Steve so much as looked at him. Now, being with Steve felt almost attainable and it filled Eddie with a hopeful joy he’d never experienced before. 

It was just another weekday that Eddie strolled into the video store to once again drop off lunch to Steve on his lunch break. He had an hour lunch and you better believe he was going to spend at least half of it with Steve (and the other half driving to and from work). The man in question looked up at the sound of the bell chiming and rolled his eyes humorously. “What are you doing here? I know for a fact that you have appointments until six today.”

Eddie grinned at him and detailed boisterously, “I’m bringing you lunch! You didn’t bring one with you today when I picked you up so I decided to display my unending gratitude with a bountiful harvest of nourishment!” 

Steve’s eyes squinted and his lips pursed as he tried to decipher his words. After a moment of silence, Eddie took pity on him and smirked. “I brought you lunch, dude. It’s the least I can do.”

He shook his head, “you don't owe me shit. It’s a favor and you don’t deserve to have to walk everywhere because some prick slashed your tires.”

“Agree to disagree. You gonna eat it or not?” Eddie waived off his explanation, he’d been hearing it every single time he brought him lunch, and raised an eyebrow in askance. 

“What is it?” Steve asked him, trying to take a peak of the brown paper bag where Eddie was hiding it behind his back. 

“Uncle Wayne’s famous chili, he made some for us last night.”

“Ooo, pass it over.” Eddie handed him the Tupperware container of chili as well as a spoon. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to stick around and talk to Steve while he ate. He still had to replace an alternator in a Chevy today so he had to get back to the garage. 

“Alright man, I’m heading out. I’ll come back around 6:30 and we can hang until your shift ends. How’s the chili?”

Steve literally moaned as he ate a spoonful of the hearty soup which shocked Eddie enough for him to trip on air and fall over. He face-planted on the ground and just laid there for a second. What. The. Fuck. Thankfully, Steve was too busy being enamored with his bowl of chili to pay Eddie any attention. 

“Mmmm, dude this is delicious! Now I owe you one because this is the best chili I have ever tasted. How about I close early tonight and you take me on a date at seven?” Steve said, looking Eddie directly in the eye as he spooned another spoonful of chili into his mouth. 

Oh my god, it's everything Eddie had ever wanted in life. Has he died and gone to heaven? “Abso-fucking-lutely! Stevie, big boy, I would fucking love to go on a date with you! I’ll be here!”

“I would hope so, you’re my ride!” Steve laughed. “Now go, you’re going to be late. I’ll see you tonight.”

All Eddie could do was beam at him and nod his head rapidly up and down. “Okay!”

As he raced back to the garage to finish his shift, he only had one thought. He owed Wayne so much for making that chili. Because that chili finally allowed him to seduce Steve Harrington.

Permanent tag list:@doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @pyrohonk @straight4joekeery @trippypancakes @conversesweetheart @estrellami-1 @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @swimmingbirdrunningrock @maya-custodios-dionach

[rockingrobin69]

Goodness (grief)

It’s windy. Always windy here, like an omen or a sign or a hill. It’s not a hill (not-not a hill, too) and probably not a sign.

My shoes squeak terribly. It’s so distracting I can barely walk straight. With every step, squeak, squeak. Each pace closer (and further away from the car, from the world) and the squeaking, it’s driving me crazy.

I’m not crying. Not-not crying either. It’s windy, my shoes are annoying as fuck, and I can’t quite remember why I even came here. Thought it’d be a nice moment, somehow? It’s not. There’s construction work on the wall maybe twenty metres away, it’s loud and there are faces staring at me (god, can’t anyone crumble in peace anymore?) is it funny to call for god here? Is it—ooh—blasphemous?

Sorry. Sorry. I know I’m being prickly and hard but god, (haha), it’s windy and I’m tired. Have been tired for a long time. There’s this… fog, in my head, not quite fog, and it makes every movement heavier, but I don’t always notice it. So I carry it around, this ten-stone weight of a not-fog, and then I’m tired? Oh, wait, was this an understanding? Beats me.

I went to an automatic car wash today. First time in my life. I think. Can’t remember ever being behind the wheel while the car goes on its little ride. You just sit there? On neutral? And it carries you through. I laughed so hard when the big roller-thingies came, I actually startled myself. It hurt my throat how hard I laughed. With surprise and delight and mostly surprise. I didn’t expect it to feel like this? I didn’t expect anything to feel quite like this.

So then I came here, with a clean car (and wouldn’t you be so happy. Relieved to know I’m driving a clean car). (How did you raise such a slob? Honestly). It was meant to be a, I don’t know, moment. It’s not. I think I just wanted it to be something, just wanted, just wanted it to be. Something. And it’s not.

So I walk back (squeak squeak), in defeat or in triumph, neither. I just walk and squeak. Back to the car. I’ve always cried the most in the car, shielded from Other Eyes (like faces staring at you from behind a tractor). (Always those issues with being seen).

I manage to drive maybe ten metres before it starts. The crumbling, the crumbling. Park (the car park’s empty, and I barely moved) and bawl and bawl. I’m so used to telling myself to stop it, not now, not here, that in the moment of truth I’m not sure if I’m doing it right. Is this what it’s meant to feel like?

(I always used to have to justify my sadness, to quantify and register and prod. Maybe, if I found its core, the Centre, I’d be able to let it go. When have I ever let anything go? God. No, not god. Something else. Anything else).

So I cry (and cry) and cry (and cry) and cry (it’s honestly tearing my throat apart). No one is here and no one is looking. I can cry all I want, I stop after two, three minutes. This it? Is it over? Not over-over, just, is this fucking fog starting to lift, or—what more can I do, what other, drastic action can I take, how dramatic and terrible do I need to be (when it’s just me here, just me, no one is watching, fucking, fuck, give yourself a fucking break). I don’t feel better.

I drive to your house. Someone still lives here. And I take a few calls and answer an email (it’s a working day after all, I’m supposed to be working. An adult, I think they call it). There’s a dog (I love the dog) there’s a break from the fucking wind. I take it like the coward I am. (A fucking break, please, please).

I write this. I don’t cry, just tear up a little. The dog wants to go outside, so we go. There’s a tiny little bit of sunlight.

I… might feel better after all.

[elliebyrrdwrites]

Blurb 17.3

HARRY

Harry had arrived early to work today. Earlier than usual, due to the mandatory even later that evening. He wanted to get a good start on the day and assess all of the evidence and the facts and create a timeline or a chart or something that would help him piece together all of the victims and see how they connected to Fiadh. He wanted to go back through the files available to him on Tom Riddle and his family lineage.

He wanted to get to the bottom of this fucking disaster.

Therefore, he was surprised to walk into the office to find that Malfoy was already hunched over his desk, in the same clothes he had on yesterday. His hair was a mess and the circles under his eyes were darker than ever. “Have you been here all night?” Harry asked as he walked over to the coffee maker, half of a pot already sitting on the burner.

Draco looked up from the files splayed out over his desk and yawned in response.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Harry frowned as he took a sip from his mug. The coffee was luke warm and bitter.

Settling down into the chair behind his desk, Harry stared at Draco, assessing him. “You look terrible mate.”

Draco snorted, but his eyes were dead, his mouth flat with little emotions visible on his sharp features.

“Did you come across anything?” He didn’t imagine there could be something more alarming or troublesome that Draco had found because, Harry was certain that he would have told him upon entering the office.

No, this looked much more serious.

“Did something happen between you and Hermione?”

Draco sighed and ran a tired hand over his face. He was quiet. He was quiet for so long that Harry thought he wouldn’t respond. But then he sniffed and looped a finger into the handle fo his own mug. He stared at the contents of his mug and Harry was positive that it was cold from sitting for hours.

“I fucked up.”

Harry was surprised at his honesty. “Okay...” He leaned back in his chair. “How?”

“In the worst way?” He lifted his mug to his mouth and took a sip but grimaced when he tasted the coffee. “I ignored her yesterday. All day.”

Malfoy was incredibly focused on the case, and had spent most of the day combing through evidence and trying to track down new leads for the case of the muggle found dead on Primrose Hill. Harry had assumed that was what was behind the tension in his shoulders, the consistent purse to his lips.

“We slept together the other night.”

Oh. While it was mildly uncomfortable to hear about Malfoy sleeping with his best friend, he had assumed they would be good together. Malfoy seemed so determined to take good care of her, that it didn’t bother him nearly as much as he thought it would.

“And then you...”

“Left before she woke up and ignored her even though she was right in front of my face? Yes.”

Harry blinked at his partner. “Why? Do you regret sleeping with her?”

“No,” Draco practically growled. “I mean, yes? Because now what? She’s in danger. I’m supposed to be protecting her.” But there was something in his eyes that told Harry he didn’t regret it. He just feared what it meant.

But Harry didn’t tell him that. Everyone knew that Malfoy was shit at feelings. Not that he didn’t have any. Apparently, he had many and they were intense. More intense than Harry had ever imagined. He was impassioned, just like Hermione was, and the thing he was really shit at (much like Hermione) was that he had a terrible time expressing them. So much so that he often contradicted his feelings and sought out fights in order to mask any vulnerability he may feel.

“She’s going to the gala tomorrow.” Draco looked up from his cold cup of coffee.

“But not with you.” Harry surmised.

“She’s going with McLaggen.” The name was like poison dripping from his lips. His eyes were hard but there was something brittle in them. Like all of his masks and cold features were at risk of slipping and breaking into a million pieces onto the floor.

Harry watched Draco’s eyes close as he clenched his jaw shut tight.

He couldn’t help but feel bad for the wizard. Because the witch he desired was now going to be at a glamorous event with McLaggen instead of him. What was worse is that Harry had found out last night that Ron was attending.

If someone had told him a year ago, that he was going to be sympathizing and rooting for Draco Malfoy to win over the heart of Hermione Granger, well…Harry would have laughed until he cried. It Draco wasn’t who everyone thought he was. Sure, he was rough around his sharp edges, but he was alarmingly kind. Not only was he going to incredible lengths to keep Hermione safe, he had opened up to Harry in a way that left him perplexed and then he had practically gifted him an entire wedding.

Ginny was beside herself with gratitude and excitement. Harry wouldn’t be surprised if she ambushed Malfoy tonight at the gala.

Which reminded him. “Ron will be there. He’s going with Alicia Spinnet.”

With a long inhale and exhale, Draco opened his eyes. “She’s punishing me.”

“Yes, I think so.” Harry picked up his mug and took another, longer drink from his cup. “But not with Ron. I think she’s completely forgotten about Ron.”

Someone knocked at the door before it cracked open. Dawlish stepped in and nodded to Harry before looking over at Draco.

“We’ve got eyes on the group of Gypsies you put an APB out on.”

“Wait, what?” Harry blinked over at his partner.

“We need to question them about the body we found at their abandoned campsite.” Draco said before turning to Dawlish. “Do we still have eyes on them?”

“We do. Beckett is watching them in Wales, near Eryri National Park.”

Dawlish held out a piece of scratch paper out to Harry while Draco grabbed their coats. “Coordinates for an apparation point outside of their wards.”

Dawlish left their office and Draco squinted over at all of the case files on his desk. “Don’t you think it’s weird that it wasn’t Fiadh who reported Belinda missing?”

It was odd, because Belinda was her daughter. Instead, it had been a male. A male with sandy brown hair and tan skin. Harry couldn’t remember much else about him and honestly, that could have been a disguise or someone under the guise of a polyjuice potion.

“Yeah...there’s definitely something fishy going on with the gypsies. What are you thinking?” He asked as they stepped out into the hallway.

“I think that our victim was close to the murderer. I also think he was close to Belinda.” He sighed and stepped into the Floo with a handful of powder. “I think our suspect sticks close to these gypsies for a reason.”

[lemonlover1110]

girl dad nanami coming home from work to suki balling her eyes out in the time our corner and you irritated because she accidentally deleted an important assignment from work after you told her not to go on your laptop and he has to find someway to depend her (PS: he literally can’t) -🫐anon

Girl Dad

Dad Series

Kento Nanami

Warnings: Pure Fluff

Kento works so hard the entire day, the only thing that he looks forward to every hour is seeing his family. His beautiful wife and the light of his eyes, his daughter. Any hardship or annoyance from work is immediately forgotten the moment he gets home and sees them.

Yet, today when he got home from work that relief and happiness didn’t rush over him the moment he opened the door to his home. Instead he felt agony when the first thing he heard were the horrible cries of his sweet daughter. Suki was clearly on timeout as she stood in the corner, crying, while you sat on the couch clearly irritated as you frantically typed an email in your computer.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Kento asks. You know better than to answer because the question was for your daughter, not you. But Suki is on time out so she doesn’t dare to turn and run to her father. Kento drops his briefcase before walking over to you. He furrows his eyebrows as he stares at his daughter. But Kento takes a seat next to you on the couch before he kisses your cheek. “What happened?”

“What happened was that your daughter decided to play with my computer after I told her not to.” You begin, and Kento wonders what the big problem is. Perhaps Suki saw something she wasn’t supposed to see– But no, you wouldn’t be mad about that. “And guess what she fucking did? She deleted this big project that I’ve spent weeks working on. Now I have to ask for more time because Suki can’t follow rules.”

“Oh-” Kento begins. He definitely understands your frustration. He would react the same way as you– Except maybe he wouldn’t put Suki on timeout. Perhaps the silent treatment would work (for the first five minutes before Suki wins his heart again and he melts over her once again).

“Do something about it, Kento.” You glare at him.

“What?” He slowly blinks, trying to figure out what you mean.

“Discipline your daughter. I’m tired of being the mean mom. Plus she’d actually listen to rules if you disciplined her every once in a while.” You tell him and Kento doesn’t know what to say in response. You’re right, but Suki has clearly been disciplined enough. Plus you should understand that she’s his weak spot. He can’t just- “Do it, Kento. While I clean up the mess your daughter made.”

Before he can protest, you stand up and walk away. You’re out of sight and Suki is still in the corner crying. Kento clears his throat before speaking. He has to be harsh. “Suki Nanami, come here.”

Hearing her father say her full name makes her nearly scream. But she walks over to her father, teary eyed and nose snotty. That sight makes Kento’s heart break. She stands in front of her father, crossing her arms, tears still running down her face.

“Okay, Suki, because you didn’t follow mommy’s rules you’re going to get consequences.” He responds. He’s trying to think how he can discipline her. “So–”

“I’m sorry, daddy.” She cuts him off. Now the punishment of no TV for a week is too harsh. She’s such an angel.

“You should apologize to mommy, not me.” He tells her and she nods her tiny head. “So because you still deleted mommy’s–”

“I will.” She replies. Now the punishment of not giving her a new toy for a whole week is way too harsh. God, this is harder than he thought. He’s doesn’t know how else to discipline her.

“Tell your mommy that I was very mean to you, okay?” He settles that he won’t do anything but teach his daughter how to lie.

“Okay, daddy.” She nods, wiping away her tears. He helps her wipe her face.

“I love you, Suki.”

[bihansthot]

So tired, I had to be up early for an unknown doctor’s appointment just to find out it’s another liver idiot. I tried to explain to them I had just had a clean MRI and saw a different doctor but they insisted I get a fibroid scan. He scheduled it before I could protest so I have to get that done at the end of the month when I have to get more bloodwork done too. I’m just so exhausted, fucking nothing is wrong with my liver the MRI showed that but no one will believe the MRI and keep scheduling additional testing and it’s exhausting and quite frankly getting expensive. I’m just so done with all of it, like leave me alone already ffs. I need a break from all the medical nonsense I’ve had to deal with this year, what I really need is a nice vacation but my partner used most of their vacation time last Spring during our family visit, so I don’t know if they have the time or if we have the resources to take a vacation but a couple days upstate would be so lovely or a Disney stay would be great. Neither is probably feasible though, but I need a rest so badly, I just need to not have medical problems for a bit and have some fun please. Sorry to complain so much I’m just very frustrated and don’t know what to do. On the plus side my partner’s Mom is supposed to come up at the end of the month and seeing her is always a good time. We’ll at least be able to go out and have some nice meals and spend a bit of time away from the apartment and Denny will get to see Grandma so he’ll be pleased. Ugh send me good vibes and such for this fibroid scan please lovelies I can’t deal with bad shit anymore.

Also apologies to my MK family but I’m going to keep being a multifandom blog for a bit longer and should be uploading a new Messmer fic hopefully sometime this weekend. I’m too tired to edit today, I don’t know if I should nap or call Mom and update her on all this nonsense. So I’m going to just take it easy until we have to go to the store to get Denny and us food. Hope you all are doing well, sending love. ❤️

[nobodybutapathetic]

Wait- Isn’t It Supposed To Be The Teacher? (!SPECIAL!)

Pairing: Tom Felton x Y/N Warning: Slight language usage Summary: You were just at school, doing your casual things until the principal called you and, something unexpected happens..

A/N: This was based on my dream that I had today. I was so happy to have this dream (I will change it a bit on this imagine) since today I had the most difficult exam ever. It really calmed my mind. Anyways, love you all! (Thank you so much @slytherinqueenrose for telling me to do this. At first, I was embarrassed to write something like this based on any of my dreams but, you convinced me to. Love you so much dear.)

(FIRST PERSPECTIVE)

I was just sketching, doing literally something that’ll cure my boredom.

I was at class, well, English class. It’s okay but, essays? Never gonna be on my yes list.

I sighed, looking at the window next to me. The sky was so dark, clouds all together, meaning it would rain.

Honestly, I was assigned to sit next to the window. Rain isn’t bad but, whenever it does rain, the water would most likely go to my hair. So, I always had to use the toilet or either bring extra clothes just in case.

“Y/N, got anything to say?” My teacher asked with a brow raised. All the students then looked at me when the teacher talked.

I’m so fucking annoyed by these eyes. Like, am I the eye candy to them? As if.

“Um. I must say, you must’ve chosen the wrong person. I have nothing to say.” I said, hoping she’d skip to ask another one of my classmates.

“Perhaps you weren’t paying ATTENTION in class. How many times do I have to say stay focused!?” My teacher yelled. I’m so tired of these ongoing days where I have to suffer hearing lots of complaints.

“We’ll see about that.” I mumbled and she just sighed.

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A few minutes passed then, the class bell rang. It was the most beautiful sound I have ever heard in my whole entire life. I mean, who wouldn’t like the sound of the bell? Well, probably because of how much LOUD it is that it’ll make our ears bleed but, the meaning counts!

I decided to stay inside class since it’s break period now and, suddenly, the Vice principal came inside. He looked like he was confused or in a hurry but, I didn’t mind at all.

He then came up to me, me being scared but calm in front of him.

“Y/N, I want you to go to the canteen right away! Now! While there’s still time!” He grabbed me, pushing my sketchbook and pencils to the ground.

“While there’s still ti-“ I was about to ask before the principal cut me off.

“No talking! Just hurry up and go!” He pushed me outside the door, me confused but, I ran anyway.

My canteen isn’t exactly the canteen you’d expect. We had to buy our food outside. Which is considered as the canteen. But as my surprise, it was raining! Fuck it was heavy.

The sky is dark indigo blue. It’s almost as blue as a blueberry.

“Y/N, come on!” My friend yelled, still running but then taking the lead.

“Wait- WHAT’S HAPPENING?!” I yelled.

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(THIRD PERSPECTIVE)

The sight of students running. Will they all disappear. Probably they will. As for Y/N, she’d probably be safe. But how would anyone know if she will? The running doesn’t stop at all. Plus, it’s raining. Anyone could slip off to their death.

Y/N kept running and running and RUNNING. She doesn’t even know what was happening. Poor thing. Although, once she reached the end of the canteen, her friends were only there. Well, some of them.

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(BACK TO FIRST PERSPECTIVE)

“There’s literally no one here!” I yelled, really worried.

“I know. Not even the principal. We must go and start searching for them.” My friend suggested which I nodded at.

We both ran outside the school, hoping that we’d find someone but, seems like our expectations were really that high.

“Have you seen anyone yet?” My friend asked, panting.

“No. You?” I asked back.

“Bad luck.” She frowned. I suddenly heard a beep sound coming from my phone which was really unusual.

“What are you waiting for? Check it out!” My friend grabbed my phone from my jacket pocket.

“Alright alright! Jeez..” As soon as I took my phone and checked the text, my eyes widened.

“What happened to you? Did someone break your phone or something? If so, don’t blame it on me! It’s your problem.��� My friend huffed until I shook her to check the text as well.

✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️

Vice Principal: Greetings to all students of Y/S (Your School). A very good afternoon to you all. We are sorry for the late inconvenience and that we are delaying the face to face interaction at school and start doing it online. We all humbly request you to join at around 5:40 exact and your assigned teacher will be waiting for you as you start joining. Thank you all for your cooperation.

Warm regards, Vice principal Vincent.

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“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!” My friend yelled. I immediately covered her mouth with my hand.

“Well, they could’ve informed directly rather than texting because I swear this just wasted our time with running. Besides, it’s literally 4:30 right now and I don’t know if we’ll make it on time.” I told, she just clicked her tongue and removed my hand from her mouth.

“Y/N! We’re literally in front of a barn now and, I don’t even know what we’re doing in front of its entrance!” My friend said, I just rolled my eyes at her.

“Seriously, I told you that we have to just go back to our homes like nothing ever happened, okay? Well, maybe not the FACT THAT THEY LEFT US WITH SOME OF OUR FRIENDS. Yet, we have to accept it.” I said, patting her back before leaving.

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I prepared my laptop and stationeries for the assigned subject. I sound like a whole entire nerd but, hey. I just wanna be seen good this time.

“You can do this, Y/N.” I gave a quick pep talk to myself then joined the classroom.

Everyone wasn’t there. Well.. Except for me and.. TOM FELTON?!

My heart was pounding. I swear to god, I’ve been having a crush on him for the past few years and, I didn’t seem to not be surprised at the moment. I feel like my face is a total tomato right now.

He seemed not to notice me since he was looking at a paper. His blonde hair was so fluffy and kinda messy, his eyes can’t be ignored even if he wears his glasses. He also had Willow next to him!

Suddenly, my friends joined and he looked at the students then smiled. Hate to say but, I felt kinda jealous that he noticed them rather than noticing me but, I don’t wanna be a pick me girl right now.

But anyways, let’s just try not to ignore the fact that HIS SMILE IS THE MOST PRECIOUS THING EVER EXISTED.

Though, my friends seemed to freak out as well. Their faces were HELLA red.

“Wait- isn’t it supposed to be the teacher?-“ I asked. God I didn’t even know I had the guts to ask that stupid question!

“Well, you probably got the wrong code or you’re in the wrong server.” He said.

“What are your names anyways?” He asked.

“I’m Y/N and these are Y/F 1, Y/F 2 and Y/F 3. You must be Tom Felton, yes?” I said, trying so hard not to squeal.

“Nice names. And, you’re really a good guesser.” He winked. I AM DYING-

“How’d you even get inside and get the code anyway?” He asked

“The vice principle sent the code that he probably guessed. He sent it to everyone. Well- probably not everyone but us.” I said, he hummed.

“Why are you even on google meet?” I asked.

“I decided to join random servers to surprise people but instead, I accidentally made a server.” He said, whilst cleaning his glasses.

“I see..” I said.

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We spent the past few hours talking about our lives and other things. Then, my friends left except for me since Tom told me to stay for a bit.

“So um.. You told me you excelled in Y/FS (your favorite subject) am I right?” He asked, while holding up Willow.

“Yes. Yes I did. It’s quite easy to be honest but for the rest, well, it’s hard to explain..” I said, flustered.

“Understandable.” He smiled.

“I have to go now. Well, may fate make us meet again? And, if you wanna chat, you can either go to my social medias and text me there. Make sure your username is the same as your name, ‘ight?” He smiled once again but this time, it was filled with joy.

“Yeah uhm. Sure. Goodbye!” I waved until the meeting was ended.

I sighed. Today was a good day yeah but, I wonder when we’ll meet.

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[cerebipalsy]

Here’s a picture from before the ceremony, because if nothing else, I do think I looked good yesterday.

About to go cry in the shower because my parents gave me exactly one day to relax after graduating college. Starting tomorrow I’m supposed to work on figuring out what my “plan” is. Sending emails and whatnot, looking for post-Bachelors research assistantships.

I spent half of today laying in bed playing video games and the evening half-watching The Matrix, thinking about how its message has gone mostly unheard on a societal level since it came out and the world keeps spinning through all these crises of humanity. Thinking about how much time I’m supposed to have left and dreading watching my life pass me by because I’m so tired all the fucking time. I don’t want to miss out on any more, because according to my dad (who graduated college 30 years ago) I already kind of missed out on what’s supposed to be the best years of my life, by sleeping too much.

I need a goddamn break and I need to be touched with intention, I can’t take this feeling anymore.

[masterwords]

something like sanctified

Summary: Hotch & Morgan have a little accident while messing around. Now, their bed is broken and Hotch is a little broken too. Shopping for a new bed is more than a little embarrassing with your arm in a sling. (Alternate summary: they're too damn old for this shit.)

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan

Words: 3k

Warnings: sex & a shoulder injury (no explicit sex, just obviously that's kind of the theme of these hijinks)

Notes: Today we're using a prompt from my forever muse @unionjackpillow - "Shopping for a new bed because the old one - that they got only 2 years ago - broke. Now they’re trying not to tell the sales person why exactly the frame is no longer in one piece." Oh. Well. I don't think they needed to say anything at all, do you? This fits into the Chicago Timeline, so they're older and have creaky bones but they're definitely not wiser. (The title sounds very serious but it's a line from "Let's Get It On" by Marvin Gaye so...)

Read on AO3 if you prefer!

**

“They don't need our whole life story,” Hotch said, perhaps a little too stiff as he tried to pull himself out of the car. He didn't mean for it to come out that way, but it did need to be said. Most people would assume that to be the case...not Derek. Not the man who could charm his way into a new friendship any place he went if he was in the right mood. Today seemed like one of those dangerous days. “Okay? You're not on the market for a new best friend, just a bed. Because you broke the last one...”

“We broke the last one. And why are you so mean anyway? You were having just as much fun as I was.”

“You’re right. I'm sorry. I’m tired and my shoulder hurts, I probably should have stayed home. I shouldn't take it out on you, even if it is your fault.”

Derek rolled his eyes dramatically and hooked his arm around Hotch's waist, careful not to bump against his sore arm. He did have a point, they had been a little rough the night before and when you’re on the bottom of some intense acrobatics when your bed breaks and your arm takes the brunt of two people’s weight against an unforgiving hardwood floor...Derek supposed he had a fairly good excuse for being a little on the grumpy side. “I'm gonna tell 'em everything. About how you dislocated your shoulder, about how I offered to set it back in place and you growled at me to keep my hands off...about the trip to the ER at 2am, everything.” Hotch wasn’t proud of his reaction but the injury had blindsided him. He was nearly finished, his mind was way out in the stratosphere and then WHAM! His entire world exploded in bright hot agony. It took him nearly a full minute to even figure out what happened and in that minute he did not want to be touched. He’d already apologized about one hundred times.

“I would prefer you didn’t.” How was that for diplomatic? What he really wanted to say was the fuck you are, but he didn’t swear often and he really didn’t think it would come across as (almost) playful as he meant it. Better let that one die on his tongue. Derek’s jovial mood was hanging by a thread, too, and he was a lot better at hiding it but Hotch knew how easily they could devolve into a bitter argument.

They ended up at the mall, purely because Derek was hungry and planned to send Hotch on a mission to grab them some lunch and wait at the food court while he talked his way around the furniture store. The problem in that plan, he discovered, was that Hotch with only one useful arm wasn’t going to be able to easily carry trays of food on his own, not without risking some very embarrassing public mishaps. Like he needed to draw more attention to the humiliation of the injury.

Derek did plan to be vague, he wasn’t a complete maniac, but it was fun to let Hotch think that their antics would be center stage. Hotch turned down the food court idea promptly, insisting that they go together or not at all. The pain in his shoulder was making him feel a little sick, and he wanted nothing more than to stand beside Derek quietly observing. There wasn’t much Derek could do when Hotch looked at him with those sleepy dazed eyes, the look of a man who was just beginning to feel the effects of the pain medicine he’d taken before they left the house so he could get through the day as comfortably as possible. There was a time, years ago, when he wouldn’t have touched the pills but he was too old for that now. His body already hurt whether he injured it or not, and dislocating your shoulder is a young man’s game as the doctor had said. Scolded. It was kind of a scolding. “How do you dislocate your shoulder at this time of night?” he’d asked, and Hotch had no good answer. In his days as an FBI Agent that answer was always easy, it hadn’t occurred to him that he no longer had that safety net. Derek wasn’t even in the room with him, just to be a little less obvious. It didn’t matter. “Take it easy, you’re no spring chicken. This’ll take a little longer to heal.”

Longer to heal spelled trouble anyway. He’d dislocated his left shoulder which meant writing was going to be a challenge down the line. Hopefully taking longer didn’t mean past Spring Break, or at least that he would have some command of his arm by the time classes resumed. He hated to have to add taking time off to the list of indignities he was suffering for having a little too much fun with his boyfriend. Lesson learned. Maybe. It was fun.

“Just time for an upgrade?” the salesman asked with a wink, eyeing Hotch in his sling with a knowing look. Hotch felt the flush of utter humiliation rising like the tide in his neck. How did he know already? Were they that obvious?

“Yes.”

“Anything in particular you're looking for?”

Derek grinned. “Can we look at the ones with the padded headboards?” He was tired of hitting his head on hard wood, he’d been complaining about it for months. Now was the time to make a change if there ever was one.

Hotch wanted to die immediately, this was only getting worse. He should have gone to the food court. Dropping a tray of soda and pizza in the middle of hungry families eating would have been preferable to the horrors of this interaction. The salesman glanced from one of them to the other and nodded sagely. “Of course. We have some very nice ones, just got ‘em in.”

While they walked toward the showcase area, Hotch rubbed absently at the back of his hand resting in the sling. His fingers were tingling, they felt the way he imagined the inside of a snow globe might feel all liquid and glitter swishing and moving around. It wasn’t quite static, it was less intense than that but still unnerving. An unfortunate but temporary side effect of the injury they assured him would pass within a day or so. Sometimes nerves got jostled or pinched, but as long as it wasn’t painful or numb it was probably fine. He didn’t care for the word probably being used in a medical capacity. Come back if it doesn’t go away in 24 to 48 hours, that’s the drill. Hotch flexed his hand and sighed. At least, for the first time that day, he didn’t feel his tendons pull angrily at his injured joint. It was blissfully unaware of the movement below.

“I like the gray one,” Derek said pointing to a dark gray tufted headboard. It was nice. Looked like a bed and a wing back chair had an elegant baby, and he didn't mind it. Didn’t particularly like it bu the didn’t hate it either, and he wasn’t terribly picky about what his bed looked like. He cared a lot more about the mattress. “What do you think?”

The bed frame was upholstered in the same dark gray fabric, low to the ground, with no foot board. Metal, not wood. “It’s nice. You choose, I really don’t care as long as I can sleep in a bed tonight.” He was grouchy, running on about three hours of sleep and he was in pain...not really his shoulder, but every overcompensating muscle group that surrounded his shoulder ached deep and complained loudly. He wanted to be sitting down. He couldn’t possibly keep it still enough to be comfortable otherwise.

“Looks sturdy.”

“I've heard plenty of stories of beds being broken,” the salesman started with a sly smile. Hotch turned away. “If you can imagine it, someone has told me about it. Of course there’s the naughty stuff, but there’s also animals and kids and people rearranging a room, earthquakes…” he was rambling, he’d already clearly decided they had sex, he kept eyeing Hotch’s sling and the bags under his eyes. You don’t end up in a sling because your dog jumped on your bed, or your kid, and there hadn’t been an earthquake in Chicago recently. It was a pretty sure bet. “But not this style. Indestructible. How’d you hurt your arm anyway? Looks fresh.”

Derek, sensing the way Hotch immediately bristled at the question and moreover the implication, stepped in. “Work accident. I think we’ll take this one, it’s nice. Matches the rest of the bedroom. How soon can it be delivered?”

They’d told Jessica and Jack the same thing. A work accident. Jessica just gave them that look, wondering what kind of a work accident a professor of law could possibly get into (especially while his students were on spring break) and Hotch was sure he would fold if she asked for details...he couldn’t lie to her. But she didn’t ask, and Jack only rolled his eyes and said yeah, right, whatever. Hotch couldn’t tell if it was the kind of sarcastic yeah right that said he knew exactly what they were doing, or if maybe he thought Hotch had been doing something stupid like climbing a ladder without Derek there to support him...wouldn’t put it past him. Could go either way. He hoped for the latter of the two. In any case, the two of them were back in Virginia so Jack could spend his spring break with Roy. The broken frame was removed from the house and Hotch could live with that lie. Of course they’d have to answer for why they had a new bed once Jack returned to Chicago but that was a problem for next week.

“This afternoon. You’ll be sleeping in your brand new bed tonight.”

“Do we have to build it ourselves?” He sounded like a wuss, he knew it. He could build the damn thing himself he just...didn’t want to. He wanted to sit with Hotch on the couch and not worry about it. He wanted to throw a nice big tip at someone who was willing to do it for them.

“We can send someone out to put it together,” the salesman said, leading them toward the cash register. “It’s a two person job, and it appears you only have one able to work so I get it. They’re booked out a few days but I’ll see if I can’t get someone out there for you today.”

The bed was delivered and built without issue while Hotch took a much needed nap on the couch with Hank. Hotch needed the nap more than Hank did. Fran was fussing over him, knowing exactly what happened and not shying away from shaming her son for his childish antics. “You two are grown men, you have children who live in this house…”

“There weren’t any kids here, ma. We had a night free to be grown ups and do what grown ups do. We’re not allowed to have a little fun?”

“That is not the point, Derek Morgan. Look at him. That poor man. Was it worth it?”

Derek, glancing into the living room at Hotch sleeping with Hank on his chest, carefully tucked into the crook of his good arm, smiled. They were huddled beneath a blanket that left only the fluff of Hanks unruly hair and the top half of Hotch’s face visible. “I dunno. It wasn’t not worth it. You see that new bed?”

She smacked his arm with the pot holder and shoved him out of the way so she could get into the oven for her roast. She had insisted on making them dinner, as if Hotch’s minor injury meant they couldn’t do it for themselves. Sure, at least for today, Hotch was more or less useless but if he had to do something he would have. He just didn’t have to. He had the luxury to lay around with a toddler tucked against his chest and sleep off a good night that turned a little sour. Sleep off sore muscles and joints and a late night hospital visit.

“I was going to offer to keep Hank the Tank again tonight so you could take care of Aaron but I’m a little afraid you’re going to misunderstand me. Can I trust you?”

“No,” Derek said with that infuriating smile. “Of course you can’t. But you can probably trust him. I don’t think he’s planning on any hanky panky for a while.”

“Well at least one of you is using the brains God gave you.”

“Aw, ma, don’t bring him into this. Go sit down with your coffee and I’ll finish up here. I’m perfectly capable of making dinner for my family.”

She rolled her eyes but set the pot holder down, lifted her coffee and made a beeline for their bedroom to see the new bed (it was very nice, she had to admit) before wandering back to the living room to have a seat and wait for him to ask her help setting the table or waking the sleepyheads.

She did end up taking Hank back to her place for the night, just to make things easier. She also loved having him stay the night, he made every part of her house more cheerful just by his presence and she was missing Jack’s afternoon visits a little more than she thought she would while he was back in Virginia. She had a countdown on her fridge with a big circled date for her biggest grandchild’s return. It was partially for her, partially for Anthony, they both missed him fiercely. Their afternoons spent playing board games and drinking lemonade were a lot less fun without Jack and his unique brand of humor.

“You wanna give it a shot?” Derek asked as they started the arduous process of getting ready for bed. Hotch was struggling to pull his t-shirt off around an arm that he didn’t want to move. It wasn’t exactly stiff, the joint just felt weak and achey. And the tendons felt weak, like if he moved too far or too fast his shoulder would slip right back out and he’d be in a world of hurt all over again. His entire arm felt like it was hanging by a threat, unstable and dangerously close to blinding pain. He’d abandoned the cumbersome sling sometime around dinner time, deciding instead that he would rather just rest the sore arm in his lap or against his chest, engaging some muscles made it feel a little more secure.

Reaching out, Derek grabbed the shirt and helped maneuver it around the swollen mound of his mottled purple and red shoulder. He slid it down around the elbow and off, trailing warm soft kisses in the wake. He started at the deep bruising, the odd stretch marks in the skin where it had popped, and followed the line down to his elbow before standing up and finding eager and waiting lips instead. Maybe his idea that Hotch would be against hanky panky was a little off. It was a delightful revelation. “I’ll be gentle. I promise.”

“What would your mother say?” Hotch asked with a small smirk, already on board.

“Uh-uh, don’t you dare invoke her name in this bedroom…” Derek warned, already undoing Hotch’s belt and then his pants. Hotch was content to let him do all the work. He just watched with that amused little smile while Derek undressed him eagerly. “You trust me?”

“Against my better judgment…” Hotch whispered against Derek’s lips. “Always.”

That night, shoulder injury notwithstanding, they gave the bed its maiden voyage. Slow and steady, Hotch still riding the last bits of his paid med high.

Not a squeak, not a shift.

Derek had propped Hotch up on pillows, he really was less an active participant as he was a very involved observer. Eager and willing to let Derek do whatever he wanted. He did what he could, he wasn’t a cold fish, but ultimately found himself met with Derek chiding him, telling him to be still, to just enjoy the process. He barely even felt it in his wrecked shoulder or the angry muscles holding it in place. It was so comfortable, so quiet that they went at it again almost immediately before hopping in the shower to clean up. The discussion was limited to “yeah?” and “yeah”, monosyllabic and quick. Derek helped Hotch wash his hair and had trouble restraining himself when their hips brushed and rolled against one another, when their fingers touched, when Hotch sagged against him tired and finally, having exceeded the length of his medication and badly in need of another dose, feeling considerable pain. The muscles running the length of his spine ached as they worked twice as hard to hold his arm still.

“No more?” Derek asked and Hotch shook his head. He was tapping out. Derek wouldn’t argue.

“I’m ready to sleep.”

Derek was too, he wanted to lie down in bed, prop Hotch up with as many pillows as it took to make him comfortable and crowd in on him. Absorb his heat, give him heat, touch him and breathe him in. Tangle their legs and drape his arms and drift off. He wanted all of that too, but he feigned disappointment anyway. Because that was fun.

“Yeah...alright. I am a little tired. Guess we should see if the bed is good for that too, huh?”

[passivenovember]

When Billy Falls in Love

--

Max's hair is twisted into a rough pink towel when she answers the door. She’s got a berry sorbet sunburn peeking through the angry red flush on her cheeks, freckles looking like they could peel off at any moment. It’s the same way Billy gets in the summertime, but he turns gold in seconds.

Max stays angry red. 

She wasn’t at the pool today. Steve knows because he was at the pool fifteen minutes ago, and Billy wasn’t there. And if Billy’s gone so is Max, and if Max is here-- 

“He’s not here. What’s with the flowers?” Max wonders, with her teeth pulling at the wrapper of a Scoops brand popsicle as she eyes the poorly picked and assembled bouquet of daisies and weeds Steve managed to convince the gardener to let him snag. 

Steve can tell she doesn’t really want to know what the deal is. Maybe she already knows. 

Max is fourteen and a perpetually bored pain in the ass, already moving to shut Steve out of the house when he jams his foot so the door won’t close. 

Max tugs on it. Groans. “Steve,” Max says, sounding tired.

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know because we don’t keep tabs on each other, you psycho.”

“Bullshit,” Steve says. Neil’s car isn’t in the driveway, he almost points out.

Doesn’t.

Max almost cracks a smile, seeming to hear him anyway. If Neil’s gone that leaves Billy to play guard dog. “If you care so much about my stupid brother all of a sudden--”

“--All of a--”

“Get in your stupid shitty car and go drive around until you find him,” Max says, like. Get lost.

They’re so similar it burns. Chars licking over Steve’s skin in the shape of how they sneer and heckle the same, and they’re both so smart that Steve has to do math and study chemistry, and perform mental gymnastics just to keep up.

There’s a lot to latch on to, Steve’s hands slip over it like a gymnast missing the high bar. 

The way she’s looking at him, the way Max said all of a sudden like Steve’s done something wrong--

“He used to drive you around,” Steve says, like. Aha. “Don’t you give a shit?”

About him? 

About his bones and blood. 

Max shrugs. “Why should I?”

And. Steve’s an idiot but he remembers how it was before, back when this whole thing started. His lips, red and tender from sucking on any piece of Billy he could find. His fingers, tugging on worn belt loops and begging for a night on Loch Nora and that dull, exhausted phrase gotta watch my sister sinking a hole in Steve’s hope.

“It’s summer,” Max says after a minute, irritated, “We have an arrangement in the summer. June to Labor Day I do what I want, Billy fucks off for a bit, and we always show up here right when--”

“His car's gone,” Steve says. Because she owes it to him and his months and months of blue balls at her lack of self-preservation. She owes it to Billy.

“His car’s gone because he’s not here, Steve, we just went over this--” 

Max moves to slam the door and Steve holds it open, trying to ignore the hollow feeling that spreads through his stomach. “Why are you acting weird?” Steve demands.

“I’m not acting weird, you’re the one who’s trying to break into my house because Billy stepped out for five minutes,” Max tugs on the door, groaning dramatically, “C’mon Steve--”

Steve clutches the bouquet of flowers close to his chest. “We’re supposed to go see a movie.”

Max stops pulling on the door, all the attitude cut from her with something dull. 

Steve swallows. His nails dig into the palm of his free hand. Steve feels blood swell, but it’s probably just sweat. “Billy. He’s not on a date--”

“Look, Steve,” Max says suddenly, sounding. Much older and wiser than she did five seconds ago. “I like you. You’re cute and dumb but you’re annoyingly sweet and thoughtful. You’re tall, too. You’ve probably failed freshman biology a couple of times.--”

“--I--”

“Shut up,” Max tells him, and Steve swears there’s a bit of green swirling in all that red, embarrassment mixing like watercolor. “Can I be honest with you, Steve?”

Steve nods. He takes his foot from the door jam and rubs his hand on his jeans. Shudders as the feeling in his stomach ebbs and swirls and gets so much worse.

“You’re not his fucking boyfriend,” Max says, and slams the door in his face.

--

“Well. To be fair, she’s not wrong.”

Steve grips the steering wheel. The leather crackles and squeals with the skin of his palms, giving way to the rumble of the engine when he turns the car onto Park Avenue. 

“Jesus,” Eddie snaps, his free hand scrambling to brace against the passenger door while the bouquet teeters dangerously on his lap, “You don’t have to take the turns so fast, Harrington--”

“I can’t believe she said that.”

“--Fucking Evel Kenevil--”

“I mean. I’m practically his boyfriend, right?”

“Sure, and you’ll still be ‘practically his boyfriend,’ even if you drive at the speed limit.”

“Thought you said Max wasn’t talking out of her ass, Munson?”

“Look, I’m allowed to take things minute by minute. I’m just saying,” Eddie tightens the seatbelt against his chest, “You haven’t exactly popped the question.”

“You think Billy’s the kind of guy who--”

“Yeah,” Eddie says casually. “He’s exactly the kind of guy who wants to be asked out. I’ve seen the way he picks flowers and puts them in his own hair when he thinks no one’s looking.”

Steve snorts. “When has he ever done that?”

“We hang out, you know,” Eddie tells him, in lieu of an answer. “When you’re not around, we hang out loads--”

“Maybe you’re Billy’s mystery man,” Steve says only half serious. Mostly joking. 

Eddie flushes deep red, “Anyway. This bag of weeds is a good start,” He mumbles, twisting the fat head of a dandelion gently between two fingers.

Steve doesn’t have it in him to unpack any of what that might mean.

They’ve been driving for what feels like hours. The sky has turned hazy, floating in that honey-dipped place between dayglow and starlight. The world will be gold, soon, and then dark. Midnight black. 

Hawkins is a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it affair. A shithole. Billy only has a handful of places to hide.

Steve presses a little harder on the gas, knowing in the very pit of himself that this is crazy. This is insane, driving around like a bat out of hell with Eddie Munson, but Billy likes Eddie Munson. Steve tolerates him. And Robin’s at camp, so.

Eddie clutches the door again with another sharp, sudden turn. “Harrington--”

“I’m not dropping you off until I find him.”

“Alright,” Munson grumbles. He lights a cigarette and stares out the window for half a neighborhood block and then says, “How do you know he’s not at home, already?”

Steve grips the steering wheel, convinced Eddie wasn’t listening the first time. “Maxine said--”

“That was an hour ago.”

“Neil doesn’t get off until seven, if Billy’s gone he wont be back until six-thirty at the earliest.”

Eddie checks the dash. “It’s six-thirty now.”

“Do you wanna die today, freak?”

“God, you’re so unpleasant,” Eddie says, handing his cigarette over, anyway, “You’re the worst, actually. Worse than I ever imagined and I’ve imagined it a lot when Billy and Dustin yap their fucking gums about how great you are.”

Steve takes a harsh pull from the cigarette. Coughs and hands it back. 

Eddie takes it from him. Ash gathers on the cherry but he’s got no self-awareness. 

“If you get ash in my flowers, Munson--”

“Jesus Christ, would you give it a rest? He’s gonna love them. He’ll probably cry, once he’s done beating the shit out of you.”

Silence falls, lurid and uncomfortable, and Steve realizes Munson is watching him. Staring at him, 

“This is insane boyfriend behavior, Harrington,” Eddie says.

“So, you admit I’m his boyfriend?” Steve tries weakly, in lieu of what he means. Why Should I Take Advice from You?

“I’m saying this is boyfriend behavior but you won’t be a boyfriend for long, once he finds out what we’re doing.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Steve grits his teeth. “What are we doing that’s so wrong, Munson?”

“Hunting him. Like a couple of crazy fucking bloodhounds.”

“We had a date,” Steve tells Eddie again. For the eightieth time. “Billy’s never missed a date so he’s either dead or dying or riding some other guy’s--”

Eddie bangs his head against the window.

Steve rolls the window down for him if only to protect the integrity of the Beemer. “Look, I know it doesn’t make sense to you, but I know Billy. And he wouldn’t just disappear without--”

“You’re not his dad,” Eddie tells him, and Steve.

Steve doesn’t have time to get into all the reasons that’s spot -fucking-on. He’s not Billy’s dad, because Steve loves Billy. To his bones and beyond, a little knob of heartache swirling around each nucleus of every atom in the very core of him.

Steve loves Billy so much it gets him into trouble.

Eddie sucks down his smoke again, like, “You’re really doing all this for a missed date?”

“What’s it to you?”

“I’m just saying,” Eddie shrugs, “I heard stories about you and the Wheeler chick. Seems like she missed a lot of dates at the end and you never did anything like this for her.”

“Billy’s not Nancy. Billy’s not like anyone, he’s--”

“Holy shit,” Eddie says, coughing. “You. You’re not just blowing smoke up my ass, you’re serious about him.”

And.

Munson says it like it’s a shock. 

Like Steve Harrington’s not capable of loving anything but himself. His hair and his house on the hill and this stupid fucking car and maybe that’s what the losers at Hawkins High think, but they’re wrong. 

Way wrong. Stuck four years in the past.

Steve has to bite down against every harsh word on the tip of his tongue, tear the sentences apart and swallow them down because of course he’s worried.

Steve’s worried all the time about a lot of things when it comes to this crush he’s been nursing for a year and a half. Steve worries if Billy sleeps enough, for one. If Neil was in a good mood today. How many new bruises Steve will have to cover with hickies the next time they see each other, paint all that hurt over with something good.

It makes him crazy.

Steve worries all the time if Billy loves him. If actually saying it makes a difference.

Steve wonders most of all how much money and begging it’ll take to get Billy out of that house on Cherry Lane. Steve’s spent many restless nights doing the math in his head, staring at the popcorn ceiling as he imagines taking Billy away from here. And if Steve’s taking Billy home, to the coast, then he’s taking Max, too.

So whatever number, whatever dollar amount Steve’s gotta hoard to make it happen--he’d better take it and multiply it by seven, because. Steve’s going to lasso the moon and give it to Billy in a bouquet of yellow daisies. 

If it kills him. 

He’s going to find Billy tonight and tell him the truth if it kills him--

“We’ve gone down this street, already,” Eddie says.

“You’re not helping.”

“I'm just pointing out the obvious.”

“And I’m just pointing out--”

“Look, if you care about Billy so much, why don’t you respect his privacy?” Eddie demands. Somewhere, along the way, he ashed his cigarette on the dashboard.

Steve wants to check the flowers. 

Can’t find it within himself to be angry about that. “I just want to make sure he’s okay. If something happened to him and I wasn’t there to make it better and figure out how to stop it from happening again--”

“God, you’re such a brownie,” Eddie snaps, turning from the window. “What if he ditched you because he’s not into you anymore, Harrington?  What if Billy got tired of waiting for you to pull your head out of your ass and stop obsessing over him where no one else can see it? What if he’s sick of being the plaything you fuck in the dark?”

Steve swallows. Feeling so, so small.

“Everyone says you’re a changed man,” Eddie gets closer, somehow. Looms. “What if Billy thinks you’re bullshit?”

Steve pulls the car to the side of the road. In front of them, hazy with the dregs of the afternoon, a coal brown sign announces that Hawkins will soon be a spot on a map left somewhere far, far away. 

Everything in that shitty little town hangs over him. Feels so huge. Max and Neil and his parents and graduation and the last month of summer, sitting bigger than the sky. 

The engine thrums underneath them and Steve swallows, turning against his seatbelt. “If Billy doesn’t love me,” Steve says, easy and slow, “He can say it to my face.”

Eddie blinks. 

Steve can sense the cogs turning, underneath all that hair. Brown like his, curly like Billy’s. “It won’t change how you feel about him?” Eddie asks. 

And Steve realizes, like a punch to the gut, that Eddie Munson cares about this.

About Billy.

He’s worried, too, in his own twisted, guard-dog best friend kinda way. It reminds Steve of Robin. Dustin, too, always baring their teeth at Billy because they’re not fully convinced that this thing between them will survive the summer.

That Steve would survive losing this. 

He wishes, a deep ache thrumming in his chest, that everyone would either get it or fuck off.

“I love him,” Steve says easily, “Love isn’t something that stops just because the other person’s come to their fucking senses about how much of a loser you are. It isn’t something you say because you want to hear it back. I’ve loved him for a year and a half and I’ll love him even when he realizes I’m not half good enough.”

Eddie smirks. It’s slow and terrible.

“Alright, Harrington,” He leans back in his seat and nods, satisfied. “I think I know where our boy is hiding.”

--

Duane county used to house to the only mall within a hundred miles until Starcourt. 

It’s a small and bustling and annoyingly progressive city, compared to Hawkins, and Steve isn’t the least bit surprised that Billy would run to a place like this to hide for a while.

What surprises him is that Billy knows how to skateboard. 

He’s riding the half pipe, so focused on the concrete that laps like waves under the wheels of his long, colorful board that Billy doesn’t notice when the Beemer’s engine cuts and Steve opens the driver’s side door. 

Eddie doesn’t move. 

“You coming?” Steve asks, frowning when Eddie sparks something too pale and skinny to be a cigarette.

“Nah, you go ahead.”

“You don’t wanna give me your blessing?” Steve wonders, suddenly terrified that Billy won’t go steady with him if he doesn’t see the irritatingly awful face of his best friend giving the thumbs up. 

Eddie hands Steve the bouquet. It’s crushed and it smells like dope.

“Billy’s gonna take one look at these sorry fucking flowers and break up with me,” Steve grumbles, his nose scrunching, and.

Eddie smiles at him. 

It’s soft and real, and kind of beautiful, and Steve gets why Chrissy Cunningham is apparently head over heels for the guy. 

“He loves you, too,” Eddie says, like, “Go on. Quit stalling. Don’t think your big love confession will feel the same if I have told your hand through it.”

Steve slams the door, and Billy floats to the top of the half-pipe with the echo of it. He looks like an angel in the clouds, shirtless with his skin golden in the setting sun, jeans slung low on his hips. The curly, bronze tendrils of hair Steve will always remember the feel of are swooped back in a scrunchie.

Max’s scrunchie.

Billy squints across the parking lot and recognizes Steve, his expression clouding over immediately. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He demands.

Steve waddles across the parking lot, “Eddie’s here,” He calls, like an idiot.

“So?” You fucking him now?”

“No, I--”

“What are you doing here, Harrington?”

Steve almost trips over himself, knees with with nerves. Billy does that to him, always. Forever.

The half-pipe is huge up close, looming like the mast of some ancient, terrible ship and Billy is the pirate waiting to throw him overboard. “We had a date,” Steve says.

Out of breath.

Weak.

“I had to get out of that house,” Billy shades his eyes with one hand, holding the long board aloft with his bare foot. He doesn’t say anything for a long, terrible moment and then he says, “Whatcha got there, pretty boy?” 

“Flowers,” Steve tells him.

“Flowers,” Billy mocks softly. There’s no bite.

He considers the moment. The Scene. Steve Harrington, with flowers clutched to his chest and the dingy little park beyond that and Eddie Munson, probably, hanging from a cloud of marijuana smoke as the afternoon crashes into nightfall.

As Steve crashes and burns.

Steve holds his breath. Billy glides down the half pipe, seeming to ride on the wind until he comes to a delicate, perfect stop in front of him. 

He smells like peaches. 

He’s been eating peaches. Billy’s hands are sticky when he grabs the bouquet, and Steve’s skin lights on fire from his touch. 

It’s so usual. It’s brand new every time.

“You bought me flowers?” Billy asks, pinning Steve with a clear, vibrant stare. 

His eyes are so blue. So beautiful--

“I didn’t buy them, I. I picked them,” Steve says dumbly, “The gardener was going to clear them away, but. I wanted to pick some for our date. I always pick you up on the way but I never bring anything, and I thought. Maybe Neil wouldn’t notice who they were for if it seemed like someone just picked them from a garden. Or the side of the road,” Billy snorts, and Steve nearly breaks an ankle trying to recover, “But I’ve thought about it, and they’re almost out of season, so the gardener--”

“--Right--”

“And. I see them every morning, from my bedroom window, and they remind me of you. Pretty and. Golden, so. I caught the gardener just in time, and i had to pay him $5 to let me pick ‘em before he cleared them away. They’re pretty. Right? I wanted--”

Billy sniffs the daisies first. His eyes close, lashes casting long, noir shadows over the cinnamon freckles on his cheeks and Steve aches to live forever in this moment. To scrape the image into his mind so it can live there, in a house made in Billy’s image. 

“Some of these are weeds,” Billy tells him.

“I--”

“Are you in love with me, Harrington?” Billy rubs the petals of one flower with his thumb, watching as the stems knock together. He’s holding the bouquet like it’s made of glass. Like it might shatter and crumble away if he’s not careful, and Steve.

Feels that way about Billy.

“I,” Steve tries again,

“Thanks for the flowers,” Billy says, and he turns to go.

“Wait,” Steve says. Begs. He almost reaches to stop Billy but he doesn’t want to hurt him. 

Billy stops. Waits. 

Something sharp and fragile sits there, just under the layer of indifference Steve was always too stupide to notice before, but.

“I love you,” Steve says. He sounds strangled. Drowning. 

It hurts.

It hurts and it really, really doesn’t when Billy flushes red. “I love you, too.”

And. 

Steve’s going to catch on fire at any moment. “You love me,” He repeats, testing the words. He doesn’t trust them to hold his hope. Doesn’t think Billy means it how Steve aches and dreams he does. “You love me, like. How you love Max? Or Eddie? Like a friend who you want to suck off sometimes--”

“Eddie and I are just friends,” Billy says, quickly. His gaze is steady on Steve’s face. “I don’t need anyone else for that, I have. You.”

He does. 

He really does.

Billy’s watching Steve like he’s expecting him to say something else, and maybe he is. Has been, for as long as they’ve been sliding inside of each other. Steve was just too dumb to get it before now. 

So he straightens his spine. Clears his throat. Says, “Well. I love you like I want to take you on dates. And introduce you to my parents. I want you to go steady with me and wear my letter--”

“We can’t do that sort of stuff, Harrington.”

“I know.”

“Well, then, why’d you say it?”

“Because it’s what I want,” Steve snaps. Like, “You’re so annoying.”

“It was your idea,” Billy smirks. It’s beautiful. It’s Steve’s second favorite thing, second only to his laugh. And the soft curve of his lips. Billy fiddles with one of the weeds and says, “You don’t even have a letter to give me.”

“Neither do you, asshole,”

“So now what?” Billy demands, his arms flaring wide, “You’re gonna say you want to go steady with me and we’re not gonna do it? Tease.”

Steve rolls his eyes to the heavens, grumbling as they plop wetly on the sun-warmed earth. Billy’s still barefoot and Steve wonders how his toes aren’t burning. “How are your toes not burning?” He demands.

“They are,” Billy tells him, annoyed.

And then. 

Steve gets an idea.

He sits on the ground and pulls both shoes off.

“What are you doing?” Billy snaps, but Steve can hear a smile in his voice, curling tendrils through the teasing annoyance that has made him so different from anyone Steve has ever loved before. “Steve--”

“Here,” Steve says, standing to hold the shoes out in front of him. He hops from one foot to the other as his heels start to burn.

Billy stares at the Nike’s as if they’re coiled snakes. Like if he takes them, they’ll burrow under his toenails and poison him from the inside out. “I don’t get it--”

“I don’t have a letter, but. People might see you in them and get it, right? When has anyone ever seen Billy Hargrove in a pair of Nike’s?”

Billy blinks, confused.

“You’re mine,” Steve says. “So they’re yours. Take them,”

Billy considers him for a long moment and then sets the bouquet on the ground. “Wait here,” He says, and skates off around the bend in the half pipe.

Steve’s feet are on fire.

He’s hopping dramatically, and in the distance he can hear Eddie laughing, and Steve’s going to kill him, but then.

Billy’s back and he’s holding his boots in his hands. “Here,” He says, “Eye for an eye, right?”

And Steve doesn’t need to be told twice. He slips into the worn leather, pleasantly surprised at how comfortable they are. His feet thank him, the raging fire finally simmering.

Steve watches Billy. 

The careful way his fingers lace the Nike’s onto his feet. How his hips shift his weight when he stands. Billy walks in a slow, timid circle, “Shit, Harrington,” He says thickly, “I’ve never been someone’s boyfriend before.”

Steve shrugs, “I’ve never had a boyfriend, before.”

“Think we’ll be any good at it?” Billy asks. He squats deeply, popping back up with a wide, beautiful smile planted pretty as a forest on his face.

It beams itself, magically, onto Steve’s. Startles a bright, hysterical laugh from somewhere deep inside of him. 

“You’re perfect,” Steve says. Nothing has ever felt more true.