#it's the camouflage... giggles

[dedlit]

[vulpinesaint]

they are so fucking silly it might be terminal

[milimeters-morales]

thinking of Miles being super powerful and not realizing just how powerful that means again!

[lxkeee]

Just read your thing about lucifer with a morticia addams like character, and I already had alot of thoughts like, how would it be if lucifer then took her to the hotel to introduce her to the others, what would it have been like if she was at the hotel when lucifer came to see charlie, things like that, it was so great!

LUCIFER X OVERLORD! FEM! READER

—part two!

I'm gonna add a little twist to this;)

Which is jealous Lucifer lmfao.

PART ONE |

“Darling, are you sure you wanted me to be there? I don't want to intrude on your little family reunion with your daughter.” [y/n] says, her hand over her hips as she looked down (literally) on him. Her antlers form a shadow over his form, majestic.

“Darling, I promise you won't be intruding and yes, I want you to be there. I need your support.” Lucifer says pleading making [y/n] sigh softly, a small smile on her face.

“Alright, anything to make my darling happy.” she says with a giggle.

Everything she says and does makes his knees weak.

He's whipped.

Arriving at the hotel, [y/n] told him he should go inside first as she needed to take care of some... Pests...

Both of them are powerful beings so they are bound to have enemies that follows them.

[y/n] managed to sense those familiar presence who always wanted to take her down but failed spectacularly.

“Wait... I should go with you.” Lucifer says worriedly, holding her hands. [Y/n] just squeezing his hands in assurance.

“Do not fret, it's not something I can't handle and besides, they're nothing but pesky roaches that I could easily crush with a flick of my finger.” [y/n] says with a smirk before leaning down and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

“I will return quickly, and enjoy some personal time with your daughter. You owe it to her, hmm?” she says with a raised eyebrow and Lucifer sighs before nodding with a smile.

“Alright, just... Be careful okay? Promise me.” Lucifer says with a worried tone, [y/n] had to pat his hear.

“Of course, darling. I'll always come back to you.” she says with a small genuine smile, her sharp teeth can be seen before morphing her body into a shadow and camouflages with the surrounding shadows. Leaving him behind to deal with the threat near the hotel.

Lucifer sighs before eventually walking towards the door of the hotel.

Lucifer eventually met the staff and guests of the hotel along with Charlie. He doesn't like that Alastor guy, gives him bad vibes.

“And this is Niffty, she's our house cleaner.” Charlie introduces as Niffty begins to crawl Lucifer just so she could face him face to face, “I clean.” Niffty says with a giggle.

Charlie was nervous to say the least, she's nervous about what her dad is thinking about the hotel. Suddenly there was a knock on the hotel door.

The sound causing everyone to keep quiet. Charlie decided to open the door to see the infamous shadow demon, standing tall and ominous with a large grin on her face.

“Gree—” the tall demoness greeted but was cut off as the door was slammed shut.

Charlie decided to open it again to make sure she didn't imagine things, didn't imagine one of hell's powerful overlords in her doorstep, “tings—” the demoness continued but the door was slammed shut again.

Lucifer had to face palm while Alastor's grin widened as he heard the familiar voice of his deer friend (badum tsss) while also feeling a sense of deja vu.

“Charlie, dear. Can you open the door? It is rude to slam the door on someone's face.” Lucifer sighs with a chuckle making Charlie laugh nervously before eventually opening the door.

“May I speak now?” the tall demoness asked with a grin.

“You may.” Charlie said hesitantly but her hand was quickly grabbed as the demoness shook her hand.

“It is finally a pleasure to meet you sweetheart, your dad has been telling me so many good things about you!” the demoness says with a large grin on her face as she entered the hotel.

The princess of hell was confused.

“Wait... My dad told you things about me...?” Charlie asked as Lucifer walked beside the tall demoness.

“Um yes... Charlie, I would like you to meet [y/n] she's my.... lover...” Lucifer says, voice getting shyer at the end.

Charlie blinked, [y/n] just grins.

Charlie finally processed his words.

“She's your girlfriend?!” Charlie asked, mouth agape.

“Yes, for a few months now.” Lucifer says with a chuckle.

The others just stared at the couple, blinking as they tried to process it.

Well... They are both powerful and they kinda look like each other's type. They thought as they looked at the two.

“My word, I didn't expect you to snag the king of hell my dear friend.” Alastor says with a smirk, his familiar static voice catching [y/n]'s attention.

Lucifer's eyes twitch. This bastard knows his woman?

“Is that Alastor I hear?” [y/n] says with a grin, morphing her body into shadows as she teleports next to Alastor's side.

“[y/n]! It's been awhile since I've last seen you, how have you been my dearest friend?” Alastor greeted, bowing down to place a gentle kiss on [y/n]'s knuckles, a subtle smirk on his face.

Lucifer's left eye twitched as he looked at the scene in front of him.

He's not angry at [y/n], no, no. He is pissed at Alastor though.

“I should be the one asking you that! You've disappeared for seven years, I thought you already kicked the bucket my friend.” [y/n] laughs and Alastor laughed with her.

Lucifer quickly appeared on [y/n]'s side, holding a protective arm around her waist.

“Darling, I didn't know you're acquainted with this man.” Lucifer asked, his eyes glaring at Alastor.

[y/n] just chuckles, intertwining her hand with Lucifer's hand.

“Alastor here is an overlord so it would make sense we know each other. Considering we have our annual overlord meetings.” [y/n] explained, giving him assurance.

Alastor finds entertainment in teasing others and right now is a perfect opportunity to tease the king of hell more.

“[y/n] here is a charming woman, her presence is a real head turner. I couldn't resist getting acquainted with her.” Alastor says with a grin.

The others just looking at the scene happening between the three.

“Oohh... Drama...” Angel whispers to Husk, making Husk chuckle.

*cue the chandelier falling in front of them*

*cue the hell's greatest dad scene.*

[y/n] sighs, a small smile on her face as he watched Lucifer being shown around the hotel by Charlie and Alastor. [Y/n] decided to stay in the lobby as she wanted to get acquainted with others.

“So you and the short king?” Angel says making [y/n] snort.

“Indeed, quite a catch really.” [y/n] chuckles as she sat on the bar stool. Husk preparing her a drink.

“You know what they say, the shorter the height the bigger the—” Angel was cut off by Husk.

“I swear to God if you say dick!” Husk remarked.

“Heart! Goodness, Husk. Get your mind out of the gutter!” Angel laughed.

[Y/n] bursts out laughing, these people are so fun to be around.

“Goodness, you guys are so hilarious!” [y/n] says in between laughs.

Safe to say the others warmed up to her and her to them.

[y/n] spent the rest of her time just joking with the others, occasionally giving Niffty cleaning tips and Vaggie some suggestions on how to improve the hotel.

*Cue the loan sharks destroying the hotel*

Lucifer and [y/n] stood next to each other as they watched Alastor deal with the loan sharks. [Y/n] had an amazed look in her eyes while Lucifer just watched in slight caution.

[y/n] may be the type of demon who finds joy in others pain but at this moment, she places her hand on Lucifer's shoulder as a warning. [Y/n] can tell that Charlie was getting upset from Lucifer's remarks.

“Darling, calm down.” [y/n] says softly but Lucifer's emotions are controlling his actions.

“How can he have faith in me but my own father can't?” Charlie asked, clearly upset.

“Charlie, sweetie...” [y/n] says softly, approaching the poor girl. Squeezing the poor girl's hands in assurance.

Mother is mothering fr.

[y/n] can sense that Charlie and Lucifer needed to talk this out. Giving the girl a pat on her head before walking to Lucifer's side.

“Lucifer... I think it's time to tell her.” [y/n] says softly in his ear. Squeezing his hand in assurance before joining the others. Angel offered her some popcorn which she gladly accepted.

[y/n] looked so proud, watching the father and daughter hug each other. Her eyes sparkled in amazement as she looked at Lucifer's wings. It never fails to mesmerize her.

Lucifer finally agreeing in scheduling Charlie a meeting with heaven.

“Good luck, kiddo.” Lucifer says and extends his hand towards [y/n]'s direction. [Y/n] accepting his hand.

“You can do it Charlie.” [y/n] grins before the couple finally left the hotel in puff of sparkling red smoke.

“I hope Miss [y/n] visits, I like her.” Niffty says with a small laugh.

“Your dad's new lover doesn't seem so bad.” Vaggie says as she stood beside Charlie.

Charlie just smiled, “Yeah, she doesn't seem so bad.”

Charlie is glad her father found someone like [y/n], she can see the chemistry between the two.

“Are you okay?” [y/n] asked softly as she spooned Lucifer on his bed. Her arms wrapped protectively around him.

“I'll be fine. Thanks for being here with me.” Lucifer says softly, blushing slightly as he felt her place a gentle kiss on the nape of his neck.

“Anytime.” she says softly.

[giuseppe-yuki]

snake expert

pierre gasly x snake shapeshifter! reader

w.c.: 1.5k

warnings: a few cuss words

part of my shapeshifting!reader series

summary: when did pierre gain so much knowledge on snakes?

picture credits from pinterest :)

“go, go quick!” pierre whispers, holding in a giggle. he holds his arm an inch above the floor, letting you slither onto the ground smoothly. the rossa corsa walls of the ferrari motorhome clash against the alpine blue of pierre’s team kit. he gone through extreme lengths to sneak into the motorhome with you because approximately half an hour ago, he had formulated a plan to prank charles. he knew his best friend hated snakes, so like best friends do, he convinced you to sneak into charles’ drivers room to scare the living shit out of him. 

you slithered against the wall, trying your best to camouflage in the shadows while pierre tiptoed towards charles’ room- rather conspicuously with his blue team kit, you might add. it was honestly mind-blowing how a ferrari team member hadn’t passed by the hallway and seen pierre. he continued tiptoing towards your final destination, with a wide grin plastered on his face and his phone out with the camera app pulled up.

when you arrived at charles’ door, you waited for pierre to crack it open before slithering in. charles’ drivers room was split up into two rooms, with the one near the door containing all his racing gear and his f1 sim while the room in the back containing a bed, desk, and massage table. it was separated by a thin sliding door. pierre had been there dozens of times, so he walked in like he owned the place and set up his tripod in front of the door. you could hear charles’ voice speaking in rapid french through the door; probably talking to someone. when pierre gave you the nod, you wedged yourself through the crack in the sliding door and into the second room.

charles was sat on his ferrari-themed bedspread, back facing towards you. he was wearing his team kit along with the possibly ugliest pair of jeans you have ever seen, and in his hands was a hedgehog, listening intently to him talk on about something- probably ferrari’s shit strategies. taking advantage of his preoccupied attention, you continue your climb up his bedspread and towards him. when he spots you coming towards him, his eyes immediately widen in fear and with his quick reaction skills, absolutely propels his entire body the opposite direction of you. the hedgehog (his girlfriend probably, you deduce) that he was holding flies out of his hands but luckily lands softly on the covers of his bed. 

“mon dieu! a-a-a snake!!!” he screams, about to bolt out of the room. 

from the sliding door, your boyfriend bursts out laughing. he had slid the door open when you were climbing up charles’ bedspread and gotten a 4k ultrahd video of charles reaction. 

“mate, you screamed so loud, i thought my eardrums exploded,” pierre says, bent over laughing. “and i don’t think your girlfriend appreciates being thrown across the room like that!” 

you look back towards the direction of the hedgehog, and sure enough, sits a girl in a gorgeous floral babydoll dress with her arms crossed in front of her chest, pouting at charles. “i can’t believe you just punted me like that, mon cheri!” she says, even though you can tell it has a hint of teasing laced into it. charles quickly crosses the room to console his girlfriend, all the while glaring at pierre.

“mate, i fucking hate you,” charles spits out towards pierre, “i swear to god i’m gonna get you back one day!” 

you turn back into your original form as well, giggling as you climb off charles’ bed. “that was funny, i’m not going to lie.” once off the bed, you reach your hand out and introduce yourself to charles’ girlfriend. “hey, nice to meet you! i’m sorry i made your boyfriend fling you onto the bed.”

she laughs, “it’s nice to meet you too.” gesturing to charles, who is now chatting to pierre on the other side of the room, she continues,” i think you affected him much more than he affected me! i swear i felt his heart skip a beat when you scared him!” 

half an hour later, pierre walks out of charles’ driver room, now armed with one blackmail video, 3 cans of celcius, and you coiled up around one of his arms. “that was really funny baby, we should totally do that to yuki!” pierre exclaims. 

before you can respond, oliver bearman turns the corner of the ferrari motorhome. “pierre gasly?” he says, mouth gaping. “what are you doing here? were you stealing celsiuses from the ferrari motorhome?” 

caught off guard, your boyfriend stutters out a response. “n-n-no! um- i was just visiting charles and wishing him good luck for the race later today!”

ollie nods understandingly, but then his eyes widen as he spots you, “ wait, how about the literal six feet snake on your arm? i just heard you call it baby???” 

“er- yeah about that…um yeah thats like- her name…kind of?” pierre stammers, scratching his head and giving a convincing half-smile. you flick out your tongue, hissing a little for good measure. 

“oh, um, okay,” ollie says. “you should probably go though, i don’t want reporters accusing you of breaking and entering the ferrari motorhome.”

pierre nods, and starts walking to the alpine garage. 

when you and pierre arrive, its like a bomb went off in the alpine motorhome. there are engineers in every square inch of garage space trying to fix up the car in time for the prix, strategists typing away on the computers, cameramen fixing up their camera wires, reporters shuffling through prompt papers, and car parts lying everywhere. jack doohan is standing the corner of the room scrolling on his phone, and ocon is cleaning his helmet on a counter with what you’re pretty sure is a flying squirrel clutched to one of his wrists. 

pierre had talked to you before about setting up a snake enclosure in the alpine garage, so you could be more comfortable watching his race, while also having the benefit of not being bombarded by the media spotlight. 

he seeks out one of his alpine assistants, and explains his plan to him. “hey man, i really think that we should set up a snake terrarium for my snake here.” he points to you curled around his arm, like you weren’t already quite obviously out of place in a setting like the alpine garage. “she’s really, really important to me and i will be bringing her every race weekend with me, so it would be great if we could set up an area for her to chill at every prix this year?” 

his assistant gapes at him, mouth open. “so let me get this straight, you’re bringing this snake to every grand prix? is it like, your emotional support animal like yuki’s bunny? does it attack bad people who get near you?”

“yuki’s what??” pierre exclaims. “when did yuki get a emotional support bunny? and no? my snake does not attack people…well actually it might scare them occasionally,” he admits, thinking of his prank on charles. “anyways, this snake is just extremely important to me,” he finishes. 

you roll your eyes internally. of course your boyfriend doesn’t know about yuki’s “emotional support bunny”/ attack bunny/ girlfriend. he was busy plotting his prank on charles while you went and had brunch with yuki’s really nice girlfriend (she had explained to you that she apparently only shows her mean side if somebody tries to hurt her or her boyfriend). maybe you could plan a double date dinner so everyone could catch up on the latest news? you had heard yuki was a great cook.

you are snapped out of your thoughts by pierre when he places you on the counter next to race suit and helmet. it is like he is in his own world as he explains the high level details of how he wants your snake terrarium designed to the assistant, who is now joined by an engineer who you suppose is going to be designing the terrarium itself. he waves his hands animately as he explains. 

“-at least forty gallons! not thirty, not twenty, not even ten gallons! it needs to be big enough for her or else she will feel cramped. for the heating, make sure to use under tank heating pads. do NOT buy the overhead habitat bulbs- those stress my snakes out. also, make sure it only heats half of the tank and not the whole thing, because it is good for snakes to have a range of temperatures to chose from. i know my baby really well, and i know that she likes the temperature exactly at 27-29 C on one side and 32 C on the other. the humidity in the cage MUST be at the right level too.”

both the assistant and engineer stare at pierre, a look of amazement on both of their faces. “damn pierre,” the engineer says, shaking her head. “when did you learn so much about snakes? won’t your girlfriend get jealous that you're going to have a giant terrarium built for your snake but nothing for her?”

taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin @ale-522 @formula1-motogpfan @aceyalonso @my0hmary @mbappebby

[frudoo]

John Price with his chunky baby and spunky baby mama 🫶

Warnings: Spit-up, normal baby things!!

Fluff ahead 🤍

“Better stop kickin’ them legs, little lady,” John huffs, squishing the giggling infant’s round cheeks softly to make her lips pucker out.

Her incessant babbling and the playful growls that come from your husband’s mouth coax you into the nursery. As you lean against the doorframe, you have to stifle a laugh—there are about twenty used wipes scattered about the changing table, and the rowdy little babe is kicking off every fresh diaper John tries to put on her. Suddenly, her cute little coos and gummy smiles turn into tiny grunts and a concentrated face. Your eyes widen, trying to warn your husband.

“John, she’s about to-!”

“Bloody hell!” He groans, holding a diaper over his weapon of a baby’s bottom.

The laughs don’t cease this time, covering your mouth as your chest shakes with spiteful delight. You walk over to your grimacing husband, hugging him from behind and pressing a kiss to his shoulder. He sighs in defeat, grabbing what seems like the thousandth wipe and starting the whole process over again.

“Think it’s funny, do ya?” John jokes, turning around momentarily to give you a playful glare.

“I think it’s hilarious, actually. She gets it from her dad,” you shrug, crossing your arms and cooing at your chunky baby.

“Ha, ha,” John mocks dismissively, giving his baby girl a stern look as he lifts her legs up yet again. She replies with a belly laugh, and his pursed lips turn upward into an amused grin as he slides the fresh diaper beneath her bottom.

“Got a pair o’lungs like her mum, though,” he smirks, fastening the sticky tabs to the front part of the nappy.

That earns him a soft smack to the back of his neck, making his shoulders dance with each chuckle he lets out. John zips up the pink camouflage onesie he’d put on her and lifts her into the air, pretending to groan like she’s the heaviest thing he could possibly lift. She babbles and stares down at him adoringly for a moment before staring off into space and chewing on her fist. He lowers her into his bent arms, cradling her and tapping her nose with the tip of his finger.

“Here, give her to me, I’ll go get her a teething ring,” you suggest, holding your arms out to your chubby little infant.

John laughs heartily as the sassy infant glances at you through her peripheral vision before returning her attention back to her old man. The heart-eyes she gives him make you pout, bottom lip quivering in mock offense.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I guess she just prefers her daddy,” he beams, lifting the baby up into the air once more, but making one crucial mistake—pressing his hands into her soft tummy.

You raise an eyebrow as John continues to brag and boast about the tiny human’s favoritism. He misses the way her squishy body jiggles with a silent burp. You don’t.

“Ain’t that right, lovebug? Daddy’s your very fav-” he stops mid-sentence when the waterfall of rancid milk spews out of the wriggly baby’s mouth and right into his own.

Wordlessly, you take your daughter (who seems rather proud of herself) into your arms and clean her up with a burp rag, leaving John open-mouthed and horrified in the middle of the nursery. You snicker as you kiss the noisy babe on her forehead, cooing to her proudly. With a final glance over your shoulder, you smile innocently at your husband with one last suggestion.

“Should probably brush your teeth before you come back downstairs.”

[naturesapphic]

Idk if u saw the interview of the hot chicken wings with billies but Can u write a fic with Billie and un doing this interview!! And like billie letting yn win bc she loves seeing yn happy! (I don’t know if u should do it with little yn or « big » yn so u decide!!!!)

Hot Ones: Versus

Billie eilish x fem!reader

Warnings: cussing, fluff, Billie being a little simp for her girl

Word count: 1,967

“You spin it baby. You’ve been wanting to.” Billie said with a teasing smile on her face. I leaned over to spin the hot sauce bottle and it lands on Billie. “You go first bils!” You said excitedly as Billie smiles at your cuteness. “Yep it’s my turn. Go ahead and hit me with it mamas.” Billie said confidently. “As a songwriter there’s a constant need to document your innermost thoughts and feelings. Read your last notes app entry out loud.” I ask and Billie smiles as she pulls her phone out of her baggy pants. “Ruh roh.” She sings out in a funny voice you love so much.

Billie starts to go through her phone and lets out her loud laugh that always makes you giggle. “Y’all it’s a quote from my dad.” Billie says and keeps laughing. “I was talking to my friend nat the other day and nat said you literally have the most beautiful eyes I’ve seen except for maybe your dad.” Billie explains and you agree with her. “Your mom has really beautiful eyes too.” You said and Billie agrees with you. “100%. Most beautiful eyes ever for two parents. Anyway I was telling my dad this and he goes your mom said I have bird eyes.” She said while sticking her pointed finger up making you laugh. “Then he said and that I look like a baby Dinosaur.” Billie giggles out and you kept laughing, almost losing your breath.

You looked over to see Maggie laughing and agreeing with Billie. Billie looked over and saw her mom agreeing and Billie points to her “she’s like yep. She’s like yeah.” Billie says as she looks back over to you. “Okay my turn!” Your girlfriend says excitedly as she picks up one of the cards and starts reading. “Can you guess one of the pet peeve’s Billie has of you.” She said out loud and you looked at her shocked. “I didn’t know you had pet peeves over me!” You said gasping dramatically as Billie looks around nervously. “Uhhh not really but there’s this one this you do that I absolutely hate and it’s because finneas does this too.” She explains and you immediately knew what she was talking about. “Me and finneas will put our feet up on stuff a lot.” You said and Billie nods as she giggles.

“A lot of the time finneas is barefoot while you usually have your socks on. Sometimes y’all will wear your gross shoes and have y’all’s feet up still.” Billie explained and went ahead and moved some of the food away so she could prop her feet up to show everyone how y’all do it. “And my face is like right there.” She laughs out and puts her feet down. It was now round two and it was your turn now to ask her another question. “In addition to being a Grammy award winning singer, you’re also a style icon. Rate these classic billie eilish fits on a scale of 1 to 10.” You read out and Billie groans as you gather the pictures together. “Jeez…” she mutters to herself.

“We’re gonna give that like a three.” She said about the camo outfit. “I had the idea, the idea was there. I had grey sweatpants on, I had a camouflage vest. It really doesn’t look good on though.” Billie explained and you gave her a pout. “I thought it looked amazing on you bils!” You said and Billie felt her cheeks heat up at your compliment. “This is cute!” You say as you pull up the next picture that was of Billie wearing a sailor moon outfit. “That was cute. I give it like a 7/8. All things anime is like the coolest shit ever. I feel like anytime I have a shirt that has any sort of anime character on it, it’s the coolest shirt I own.” Billie explains and you nod your head in agreement. You put up the next picture and the both of you ooh at it.

“This was a person whose shit did not stink.” Billie said while you gave her a confused look. “Well she thought her shit did not stink.” She corrected as you smiled at her. “I remember walking around this specific event being just like I am absolutely the sickest person in the world.” She said as she told the story of the photo. This time billie went over and picked up the next one which was her “assassin’s creed” outfit she wore. “Oh look it’s the assassin’s creed look!” You said while giggling. “It’s kind of hard. I feel like that’s an eight. This is so embarrassing.” She said as she looks around the room.

“Now it’s my turn to ask you. What’s the worst celebrity you’ve ever met?” Billie asked and you sat there quietly for a while, trying to think of an answer because you didn’t want to eat the hot wing. “I’m trying not to punch down.” You said not really thinking and Billie laughed. “Try not to punch down did you say?” She said confused. “Yeah I could punch way down.” You said giggling and the two of you laughed. You whined a bit as you couldn’t come up with an answer so you take a bite of your chicken wing. “Whew…that’s hot…but it’s really yummy. It’s probably because I’m hungry as fuck.” You said while wincing slightly. “Same.” Billie agreed as you picked up a card to ask her a question. “Couple test. I’m going to write down my answer and you have to guess my response. Guess wrong and eat a death wing.” You said dramatically.

“What is my favorite song of yours baby?” You ask and she makes a thinking face as she starts to write down her answer but then stops and then goes back to writing again. “Do you have it?” You asked and she nodded as she picks up her board and shows you her answer. “Nope that’s not it baby. But that one is one of my favs but it’s y/f/b/s (your favorite Billie song).” You replied and Billie lets out an ohhhhh. “That’s a great answer babygirl.” She says and you feel your cheeks become redder and it wasn’t because of the chicken. “I wanna eat a wing” Billie said in her baby voice she does and you coo at her. “Well you did get the answer wrong sooooo…take a biteee babyyy.” You said smiling as she gets excited to eat it.

She takes a decent bite and makes a mmm noise. “This is fire.” She says and you laugh loudly as she enjoys it. One of the people behind the camera asked if the spice was kicking in yet for her. “I think so. It’s getting a little hard to think.” Billie states and does a little smile and burps which makes you chuckle at her behavior. “You’ve never been shy about giving credit to your early musical influences. Now that your heroes have become your peers. Rank these artists from most to least talented.” You ask and gave her a shocked expression to which she matched that expression with you.

“Ooh….who?” She asked you and you grimaced at what you were about to say. “Tyler the creator, Lana del ray, childish Gambino, and Justin Bieber.” You said and Billie groaned. “Oh my God….most to least talented?” She asked and you nodded. “I don’t know if I can do it.” She said and laughed nervously. “Well baby eat a death wing im afraid.” You said and she grabbed her vegan wing. “It’s the lips that are the problem. The mouth and tongue is fine.” She said as she goes in and takes a bite on the top. You decided to eat one since you were starving and you regretted it. “Fuck! That’s so fucking hot…” you breathed out as you felt like you were gonna pass out. “You okay mamas? You can have milk or water if you want. It’s what it’s there for.” She said softly as she looks at you with worry.

“Yeah no I’m fine baby it’s okay. Let’s keep going.” You reassured her and she nodded. She picks up a card and it read a wild card and as soon as she said it a airhorn was blasted which made the two of you jump. Billie looked terrified and you started cackling at her face. “What the fuck dude!” You exclaimed and Billie shook her head in disbelief jokingly as she tries to read the card but was having trouble getting the words out. “It’s tradition around here to put a little extra on the last wing. You and your opponent can add an extra dab to your final wings now.” Billie read aloud and you groaned. Billie tied her hair back and took off her jacket while you took yours off and put your hair up as well. “What’s the question or challenge we have to do?” You ask as you just wanted to get this over with.

“Don’t smile at me. Challenge your partner to a compliment battle. First person to smile must eat a death wing.” She read and the both of you dreaded what was to come. “Baby this is so sad…” she said breathlessly. “Ummm…you have the most beautiful eyes mama…” she said and you kept your face neutral. “You are the most talented person I know.” You say to her and you saw her lips twitch up for a second but it never turned into a smile. “You are an incredible driver even though you drive fast as fuck.” You said and she holds in her giggles. “You are hot as fuck.” She said and you put your hand over your lips so you wouldn’t smile. “You always look good in the most bizarre clothing.” You said but you let out a laugh as did Billie.

“Well we both laughed so here we go but are you okay though princess?” Billie asked you as the two of you picked up a wing. “It can’t get any worse.” You replied and Billie shook her head laughing. “Oh but it totally can mama.” She warned and you took a deep breath. “I love ya.” Billie said and you said it back. The two of you ate pretty big bites and the two of your were dying by the end. It was clear that Billie had won since she didn’t drink anything but in her eyes you had won. She grabs the trophy and hands it to you while you looked at her in disbelief. “You deserve it mamas and plus I love you a whole bunch.” She said and you coo at her.

She leans over and tries to take a bite out of the fake wing and makes a disgusted face. “Oh my gosh…you didn’t even make that a little bit edible” she said as she pushes the trophy closer to you. “Baby what the fuck.” You laugh out and stand up as Billie stands up with you. You end the video with the two of you saying goodbye and that was that. Even though Billie could have gotten the trophy, there’s not one thing she wouldn’t give/do for her girl.

A/n: this took me so long to do so please like, comment, reblog everything lol thank you to the anon who requested this. I hope they enjoyed it and I hope the rest of y’all did too. Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all!

[theemporium]

can i request sirius fluff? where the reader is super shy but when with sirius she’s always clinging his arm and holding him? and maybe the marauders are surprised

thank you!! love your writing 💌

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

If you had asked any of the boys who they thought Sirius would end up with, they would have answered with someone who was just as loud and energetic and bold as the boy himself.

Sirius Black was an acquired taste, but beloved nonetheless. He was loud and proud and didn’t hide who he was. He was confident in his skin, even more confident in his words. He was the kind of guy people aspired to be, the kind of arrogance that didn’t make you feel like you were choking on someone’s ego. He was the kind of guy that you needed to match the energy of to fully appreciate him as a person. 

So, when Sirius started becoming lovesick and besotted by a girl, the boys were preparing themselves to be met with a female version of their friend.

They weren’t expecting you.

Not in a bad way, not at all. They knew you well, each of them sharing a class with you at some point over the years. You were quiet and tended to keep to yourself. You didn’t really go out of your way to speak unless you had to. You were happy to stay in the shadows, to get lost in the crowd of everyone else and stay camouflaged and unseen. You were the type that went unnoticed unless you wanted to be seen by people. 

And they certainly didn’t think Sirius was the kind of guy you’d go for either. 

But you both made it work, somehow and some way. Maybe it was an opposites attract situation, or maybe there was a side to the both of you that they didn’t know. But you made it work, despite the doubts everyone—and truly, everyone in the school had been invested by that point—had. 

“Prongs, you’re fucking wrong and you know it!”

“I’m not!”

“You are!”

“Pads—”

Sirius only let out a laugh as he chucked the croissant across the table and watched it hit James square on the forehead. The boy howled with laughter, only managing to duck on time when James threw a piece of toast in retaliation. He reached for an orange, prepared to throw it as his next attack, when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. 

In an instant, the bubbling and giddy energy that was bouncing off him moments ago melted into something softer, sweeter even. Like the skittish energy in him had been settled.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Sirius grinned as he leaned his head back to look at you, his lips pouted in expectation and he tried to hold back his grin when he watched your face flush in response.

“Hi,” you murmured back as you leaned down to press a quick kiss on his lips. 

Sirius’ grin widened before he lifted his arm, letting you settle into the spot next to him with ease before he wound his arm around your shoulders. You tucked into his side, your hand reaching for the one of his that was hanging off your shoulder now. You intertwined your fingers together, nuzzling your cheek against him as the two of you settled into the familiar but comfortable position. 

James eyed the two of you, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t get how you do it.”

You raised your brows in question. “Do what?” 

“Calm him down,” Remus snorted from his seat beside James. “It’s like a switch flips around you.”

A crease formed between your brows. “Is that…a bad thing?”

“Of course not, love,” Sirius spoke up, glaring at his friends as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “They are just jealous.”

“Stop staring at me like you’re trying to make my spleen explode.”

“Maybe I am.”

James rolled his eyes before his gaze settled on you, a kind and warm smile on his face. “It’s not a bad thing,” he assured you. “We just wanna know how you do it. Especially when he’s drunk. He is a runner.”

You giggled a little at that.

“This side of me is reserved for my girl only,” Sirius defended, puffing out his chest. “You aren’t pretty enough for it, Prongs.”

The boy gaped. “Hey—”

“You’re not my type.”

James glowered. “I’m everyone’s type.”

“Except mine.”

“Asshole.”

.

[munson-blurbs]

Hey sweetheart! You take requests at the moment? I'm currently healing from surgery (ow) and I just want some fluffy Eddie fussing over me/reader

One fluffy blurb, coming right up! I hope you get well soon 🥰

Warnings: Reader is recovering from surgery, mention of prescribed medication, mention of spicy activities, Eddie is a big ol' mush of a boyfriend

WC: 750

--

The sound of a handbell clanging has Eddie up from the sofa in a heartbeat. He’s learned your communication system over the last few days: one ring means you want some company, two means you’re hungry or need to use the bathroom, and three indicates an emergency. 

This was a three-ring. 

“Sweetheart?” There’s no camouflaging the alarm in his voice as he pushes into the bedroom. He finds you propped up against the pillows, book in hand. “What’s the matter? Are you dizzy again?”

You shake your head. “Could you get me a snack?” The doctor advised against taking the pain medication on an empty stomach, and you had no intention of breaking that rule. “Maybe some pretzels? Or a slice of toast with jelly?”

Eddie’s shoulders sag with relief. “You rang the bell three times,” he explains, soft irritation clipping his words. “I thought something was wrong.”

Glancing at the bell tucked against your thigh, you frown. “No, I only rang it twice. Or, wait…shit, I did ring it three times.” You exhale, sliding your bookmark between the pages and offering an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“S’okay.” He plops down onto the bed, careful not to jostle your elevated leg. “Just…give me a sec to get my heartrate back down to normal.” Hand to his chest, he takes deep, exaggerated breaths that have you giggling. 

“I mean, I could find something urgent,” you tease. “Maybe I’ll try walking without the crutches, or I can take out my stitches…”

Eddie’s nose wrinkles in a combination of disbelief and disgust. “Bullshit,” he counters. 

“Bullshit?”

“Bull. Shit.” He grins, gently poking your bicep. “You got all queasy that time you had to pull out a splinter, and you expect me to believe you can remove your own stitches?”

You let out a defeated groan. “Ugh, fine.” He knows you too well, and you love him for it. 

He gives you a triumphant kiss on the cheek and starts towards the kitchen. “Anything else the fair maiden needs while I’m up? More water? Ginger ale? Perhaps some champagne and caviar?” His eyes light up mischievously at the last suggestion. 

“I’m not supposed to drink on these meds,” you quip, playing right into his charade. 

“We’ll take a raincheck on the champagne, then.”

You shift back slightly, wincing as pain shoots through your leg. The surgery hurt more than the injury, and part of you wishes you had just muddled through and hobbled around instead of getting it fixed. 

Eddie returns a few minutes later with toast that’s just the right shade of burnt and slathered in strawberry jelly. He has a glass of water in his other hand, though you hadn’t asked for any. 

He places both on the snack table he’s set up next to the bed before reaching over and grabbing the bell. He rings it one time, loud and purposeful. 

“Can I help you?”

Nodding, he sits down. “I’m bored and need someone to talk to.” He rests his head on his pillow and pouts. “Entertain me?”

“There’s not much going on here.” You shrug, scanning the room for a conversation topic. He’s been taking care of you nonstop, and surgery recovery doesn’t exactly make for riveting discussions. Your eyes land on a magazine. “I read some interesting articles in Cosmo, I guess.”

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie waggles his brows. “Anything spicy?”

You flip to an article that provides explicit details on giving the perfect blowjob and point to the page. “This one was pretty raunchy.”

He studies it just long enough to read the headline before tossing it aside. “You don’t need any help with that. Trust me.” He smirks knowingly. “You probably could’ve written that article yourself.”

“Good to know.” Exhaling, you look over at him. “You can go hang out with the guys if you want. Or they can come over here, as long as they’re not too loud.”

You expect him to jump at the offer; anything to cure his bout of boredom, but he declines. “Nah, I’m good right here.” He snatches up the magazine once more and thumbs through it. “Besides, I need to find out what color palette matches my skin tone.”

“Eddie—”

He cuts you off with his pointer finger. “Shhh. This is life-changing stuff, Sweetheart. I mean, what if I’m…an ‘autumn,’ but I’ve been wearing ‘winter’ this whole time?” His face contorts in mock horror. “Talk about tacky.” 

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it.”

You absolutely do. 

--

[gooppoo]

May i request: Neteyam pulling readers hair by accident and they let a moan slip out. Neteyam quickly covers readers mouth and teases reader.

y'all and the hair pulling-

it was an accident.

Part 2

Requests Closed!

mdni.

warnings: hair pulling of course, teasing, aged up Neteyam obvi, Neteyam being kinda mean-

You couldn't remember exactly what led to this.

It started with a simple hunting lesson from Neteyam. You wanted to refine your bow skills, but now you were playing a game of predator and prey.

You were the prey.

Swiftly you maneuvered through the forest, staying next to silent. Sometimes you'd blend in with your surroundings and watch Neteyam track the prints you had purposefully left to confuse him. Then you'd rustle some leaves as you scurried from your spot. Your heart would race hearing him sprint behind you. An excited giggle would taunt him before you would disappear again.

You seemed to have bested him for sometime. Truthfully, you were growing tired - bored that he wasn't able to keep up. In reality, Neteyam was waiting until you were sloppy enough to slip up. Then he'd take his chance.

Nimble on your feet, you scampered toward a tall patch of grass to camouflage in. You were under the impression Neteyam was many steps behind you, however, you were quickly proven wrong.

As you passed a tree you were snatched by your hair and waist and pinned against a strong physique. You faced the forest, but your hair was still fisted and the violent sting from its harsh grasp made you mewl. The hand on your waist smacked over your mouth and your hair was yanked so your gaze was forced toward the sky.

Still unable to comprehend the complexity of the situation, your first instinct was to wriggle free, but your perpetrator tugged every time you fought and the sensation in your scalp tingled your naval. Pathetic pules we're muffled behind a large palm.

"Stop fighting."

Through the gruffness of his voice you barely identified your hunting teacher. But that didn't stop you from aspiring for freedom.

"Stop," somehow you were clamped closer to him, "Just listen to me." His demand was accented with another forceful pull and a disgusting moan from you.

But you had enough and finally sunk your teeth into his hand. With a hiss he loosened his grip enough for you to break free, but in the next instant you were pinned between him and the tree.

He was panting, "We're you moaning?"

All the movement and tussling had your ears ringing and your throat constricting. The smile on Neteyam's face was a mystery to you.

"Did you hear me?" He tilted his head.

"What?" You choked out, noticing your wrists were cuffed by Neteyam's imprisoning hand.

"I grabbed your hair, and you moaned?" It was like he hit a gold mine.

More color drained from your face.

"At first, it was an accident. But then I did it again...and you whined, again." The inches between you disappeared, "What is that about?"

All you could focus on was how he suddenly become so daunting. How he used your size and strength difference to his advantage. How he was in your mind and picking at your weaknesses.

His tail teased the skin of your thigh, "Nothing to say? What if I-" he grabbed another handful of hair and pulled. His theory was proven when you sighed.

"My my..." if his eyes weren't wide before, they were now, "What other noises do you make?"

[gomu-fer]

A world we are both in

Portgas D. Ace x fem!reader

Warnings: none this is honestly so self indulgent, pure fluff with fem reader

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: A heartfelt conversation with Ace in a open field

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The sun kissed you gently, you soaked in its warm rays and internally thanked the breeze that danced with the trees for helping you feel fresh and secure. The almost musical waves of the ocean could be heard at the distance like a so familiar melody, you opened your arms and took in a big breath. This were your only moments of true real happiness, where nothing in the world could bother you, or so you thought.

“What’s with your face?” a shadow hovered over you which made you groan, slowly opening your eyes you were graced with the view of your commander and dear friend Ace, you scoffed before rolling around to land on your belly in the grass and hid your face in your own arms “What’s with yours? Oh right! That’s just how your face is” you answered him playfully before closing your eyes and sighing loudly so maybe your friend would take a hint that you wished to go back to your peaceful activities with silence.

Ace’s gaze lingered, watching you as he wondered what troubled your mind. This past few weeks you had been behaving quite out of your character, you were quieter and wishing to be alone way more than usual.

One of the main reasons you and Ace had become inseparable was because you would always be there for him, you would joke along in his silly games or you’ll be there to listen to whatever troubled him. And when he didn’t wanted to talk and just seek companionship, you’ll talk about your past or silly hobbies you had seemed to be enjoying at the moment, spark conversations about anything and everything and Ace’s favorite one was when you would allow yourself to be vulnerable and pull down the strong walls you had build around yourself, and pulling down his at the same time.

Upon first meeting you he realized you were strong and independent which obviously he found absolutely attractive and you were gorgeous too, he thought he was seeing an angel on the Moby Dick’s deck when you first arrived. Then as he would spend more time around you and actually getting to know your character, he saw you were also soft, creative, caring, romantic, funny and extremely kind. But sometimes you seemed to fail to see that for yourself.

He carefully sat down beside you to not stir you out of your peacefulness “So are you gonna tell me what’s wrong or should I tickle you till’ you tell me?” another loud sigh was heard as you rolled over again to look up at his black eyes, there was worry camouflage by a teasing grin, he wanted you to talk to him without scaring you away like a bird outside a window.

“Have you ever loved, Ace?” Oh so you were the one asking questions now? The commander was taken aback by the question and almost embarrassed, he really thought about what words was he gonna allow spill out of his mouth, something he rarely did “Yes, I love my brothers and my friends and my crew” he was met with a giggle that softened him after he had stiffened at your blunt question, he smiled to himself at the sound of your laugh, something he always seemed to seek “I mean yeah of course but like… romantically” both of your eyes drifted from him and stared at the sky as you felt the warm settle in your cheeks and ears.

A comforting silence accompanied by the loud wind and waves of the ocean fell upon the two of you, Ace’s heartbeat quickening could be heard if you really focused your senses. Where were you going with this? “I- uhm…” Ace was choking on his own words “What does this have anything to do with my question that I asked first, sweetheart?” The pet name made your stomach stir with wild butterflies and your eyes quickly shifted to the fire fist who had a grin planted on his stupid face, he knew you too well.

Truth was what was bothering you was him. Portgas D. Ace was a man beloved by almost everyone that met him, he was charming, playful, energetic, confident, extremely handsome and a man with strong ideals so of course you had taken a like to him when you first met. You still remember how he eagerly introduced himself to you, taking his hat off and doing a stupid reverence which immediately made you laugh and roll your eyes. He was endearing but as you would spend more of your days and nights around the commander, that simple ‘liking’ and ‘endearment’ had turned into something more, something that you could not hide.

Awake at night in haunted you, the idea that you loved that reckless pirate and how he would probably never reciprocate, you weren’t the type Ace would fall head over heels for, you were introverted by nature, artistic at heart, strong minded and always seemed to be enjoying yourself more around your hobbies and mundane activities rather than drinking in loud bars which was a place he would frequent. Ace was so wild, feared and always the life of the party while you were overlooked and quiet.

Nevertheless, you remained a little hopeful as he started to slowly show a different side of him. He wasn’t confident all the time, self hatred blinded him and resented the world you both had been born in, it had failed him. Ace shared a piece of his soul with you that no one outside his closed doors ever knew, and you kept it safe.

“Sometimes I feel like I am not capable of love” you made a stop to try and find the correct words “In the sense that I feel no one is ever gonna be capable of loving me, like really love me… which is funny because I am someone that loves love, and loves a lot. I love nature, I love art I love the people around me, I love life”

The fire fist clung at every word and read onto every letter that you had just spoken. Ace always felt like an outsider, miss placed in a world that hated him for something he was not at fault; but with you, it was like two puzzle pieces that fit in perfectly, while he loathed his life, you loved it, celebrated it, embraced it and brightened it. You complemented each other perfectly

Ace was pulled out of his daze as you got up the grass stretching and clearing your throat, his eyes never leaving you “But I am just rambling and being ridiculous aren’t I?” a nervous giggle escaped your lips as you took in the beautiful view of the field one last time

“Well, we should probably get going, freckles” you offered him a hand to get up which he took without hesitation, but didn’t move. A mischievous smile decorated his features before in a swift move he pulled of your hand with enough force to tackle you on top of him, then rolled over caging you beneath him “Yeah you sound ridiculous” he whispered on top of your face, both of your eyes aligned his exploring yours eagerly before turning to your lips, you wiggled beneath him trying to escape as nervousness took over your body, face bright red. Using both your hands in his chest you tried pushing him out but he didn’t even flinch, only his hat falling beside you “Ace stop! I told you what you wanted! Don’t start” your eyes now frantically tried to escape his “Sounds ridiculous…” One of his hands traveled to your jaw to keep you in place and to make you look at him again “because a world where you’re not loved, is one I don’t exist”

Time slowed down, your mind only able to pick up the gentle breeze that lulled both of your bodies and your heart that threatened to jump out of your ribcage. Your breaths mixed together, hands still on Aces chest and eyes glistening, the sun in the sky being the only witness of this moment. Your mouth opened but words failed to come out, Aces hand let go from your jaw to remove hairs from your face, his gaze soft and sweet “Ace…” before you, his name always seemed to ring in his ears like an awful sound, but now the way you called him was like a spell, the most wonderful symphony he had ever heard. Both of your hands grabbed his face before slowly kissing his lips, shyly but full of love and intention. At the action Ace lost control and let his whole weight crash only deepening the kiss, you could feel the smile forming on his lips before attacking yours, he had been waiting a long time to feel them, to love you out loud.

Both your lips separated as you gasped for air and in between giggles you said “Took you long enough, thought I was gonna have to show up with a guitar outside your door” Ace scoffed playfully before hugging you and rolling around the field, both of you laughing as you went down. You landed on top of him, admiring his beautiful face painted with freckles and a happy smile “I would have loved that actually” you rolled your eyes “I love you but I rather not be the laughing stock of the whole crew thank you very much” he dramatically gasped “Oh so you do love me, awww”

You tried to get up and leave but he held your waist tight, afraid you’ll fly away and leave him behind. Ace laughed at loud at your slightly embarrassed expression before sitting up, facing you then gently pressing his forehead in yours “You do right?” He whispered ever so softly, both teasing and a little insecure still not believing he deserved unconditional love, specially from someone like you “I am yours” you answered without missing a beat taking both his hands in yours “Would you be mine?”

Yes, in this and every world

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Masterlist

Yea yea I love him ok? Give me a break. This was written with my singer!reader in mind of the first ever Drabble I posted here so do whatever you want with that. As always feel free to request and correct me, English is not my first language

[suzukiblu]

The fake cryptid Tim- the hopeless attempts to build a nest-!!! Oh my god I'm hiding my face in a pillow and giggling at him, he's hopeless!

Oh the boy is SO far past hopeless, lol. Absolutely straight panicking and by FAR the least crafty/artistic dude in this situationship. It's not even a contest.

Tim, fumbling his latest nesting attempt while desperately trying to figure out if duct tape and hot glue could salvage this disaster: oh god why won't the stupid sticks just STICK, I--fuck fuck FUCK!!

Tim's latest nesting attempt: / immediately just falls off the roof entirely and falls apart before even hitting the ground /

Tim: FUCK.

elsewhere, Superboy, inspecting his own latest nesting attempt: hmmmmm this could definitely be better.

Superboy's latest nesting attempt: / thoroughly-researched and virtually flawless construction, camouflaged exterior but shiny as fuck INterior, and probably full of soft and cozy pillows with great lumbar support and giant-ass diamonds for flair, and definitely including multiple helpful places for a Bat-cryptid to hide their weird cryptid concealed weapons and any theoretical knickknacks they own/collect /

Superboy, tearing it apart to start from scratch: yeah I should try harder, Robin's gonna have STANDARDS, obviously.

[freelancearsonist]

Whole

Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Rated MA for the most long-winded poetic smut i've ever written jfc 🤦‍♀️ slow burn fluff with a couple sprinkles of angst for flavor, reader uses fem pronouns and is described as having female parts, it's dirty y'all but at least they use protection

7,470 Words

A/N: you all know my mo by now i disappear for a year and then come back and lay down some god damned PORN. this fic is no exception to the rule. @shakespeareanwannabe requested this back in july and she literally just asked for a cute moment between steve and dustin, sorry you got 6k words more than you bargained for 😂 but also thank you for betaing and the constant validation you're the best ily 🖤

Steve’s not sure how it even worked.

He can still remember the look on Robin’s face when you agreed, how she was speechless for almost ten minutes because she couldn’t process what had just happened.

Steve’s reaction was about the same as hers, in all honesty. He’s gotten so used to striking out that asking people out has become something of a game to him. He knows he’ll get a no, and he knows Robin will laugh her ass off at him. But what can he say? He likes putting a smile on his best friend’s face.

Needless to say, you’ve shaken him. In the best possible way. Because your answer was three letters instead of two.

And now, he's a little bit in over his head.

Or, to be more accurate, a lot in over his head.

It seems like it’s been ages since he’s gone on a date, even though it’s only been a few months at most. He feels lost, like he’s completely unlearned everything he ever knew about girls.

He hates it, despises it with every fiber of his own being, but he also knows it’s true; he needs advice. And although he’ll never admit it to the little shithead’s face, there’s no one better he can think of going to than his very own protege. Who better to remind him of his own prowess than the person who learned everything they know from him?

One look at Dustin’s smug little face and Steve almost regrets it. Almost.

“Just can’t stay away, can you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes and gives the younger boy a little shove, camouflaging it with an affectionate pat on the back. “This is strictly business, Henderson.”

“Oh, is it now?” The younger boy’s voice takes on a smug tone as he folds his fingers together and leans back in his chair. “Well then, why don’t you have a seat? Step into my office.”

Steve rolls his eyes and slides into the booth, shooting a smile and a “thank you” to the kind waitress who delivers two milkshakes to their table.

Dustin takes his time and makes a meal of unwrapping his straw, feeding off of Steve’s clear impatience Steve’s fingers tap against the table, reminding himself that patience is necessary when you come to someone for a favor. It’s just that it’s Dustin, and Dustin knows exactly how to get under the older boy’s skin in the most annoying-yet-oddly-endearing fashion.

“So…” Dustin finally says after a lengthy sip of strawberry milkshake. “What brings you so humbly to me?”

“I’ve got a date.”

And Dustin, the little bastard–he laughs. A deep, rumbling belly laugh, so pure and unfiltered that the three other occupied tables in the diner pause their conversations to get a look at the boy clutching his sides.

Steve’s a little embarrassed by the attention, but even more embarrassed that Dustin’s reaction is so genuine. The fact that the idea of him having a date is so laughable is a bit of a punch to the gut. It hasn’t really been that long, has it?

When Dustin’s laughter finally dies down he realizes Steve’s face is completely serious, and it makes him giggle even more.

“Wait, you’re actually serious? Who on earth did you manage to pull?”

Steve’s nearly bashful as he says your name, and even more bashful when Dustin’s jaw visibly drops.

“No fucking way. I’d believe anyone else, but her? She’s like… hotter than Phoebe Cates. There’s no way you wouldn’t strike out with her.”

Steve’s immediately on the defensive. Is it really so hard to believe that he, former king of Hawkins High, could pull the most gorgeous girl in town?

But that’s just it. There’s really no one like you, not in his eyes. He’s admired you since freshman year and never once even tried with you because he knew he wasn’t worthy. You were always in the background–a beautiful, kind, smart, funny girl just out of his reach. Part of the reason he even asked you out was because he was so sure he would strike out. In the end, losing his confidence was exactly what he needed to pull the girl of his dreams.

And that’s why there’s so much riding on this. You’ve always been his biggest “what if”, the girl he wonders about when thinking that maybe not trying has been holding him back. And apparently, it has.

“Look, I don’t even know how it happened, okay? But she said yes, and… and I really don’t want to blow it.”

“Well duh. You’ll have to leave town if you blow it with her, you know that, right? If she doesn’t think you’re worth it, no one else in this town ever will again.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” Steve groans, slouching down so far in the booth that Dustin can just barely see his poor, overwhelmed face.

“Steve, listen…” Dustin’s voice takes on an almost fatherly quality, an omniscient tone that gives off the illusion of great hidden knowledge. He gets like this sometimes, and Steve’s not always sure that it is just an illusion. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re, like, one of the coolest guys I know. If she doesn’t like you… that’s her problem, not yours. Okay?”

Steve straightens in his seat, a little shocked to hear such kind words from a friend that he’s used to being mercilessly teased by.

“No, no, no, it’s going to your head. I take it all back. Forget I said anything.” Dustin’s hearty giggle makes Steve smile as he sets a wad of bills on the table and slides out of the booth.

“You’re not so bad Henderson, you know that?” He gives the younger boy’s full head of curls an affectionate ruffle. “Thanks, kid. I’ll radio later.”

Not that Steve didn’t have total faith in his young protege, but it’s still a relief that the pep talk turned out to be exactly what he needed to hear. Dustin’s right, after all. Steve’s worked hard to become the man he’s always wanted to be. He may not be dripping charisma or sex appeal the way he used to, but he’s much more comfortable in his own skin. That’s what counts, right?

And you really are his dream girl. The opportunity to take you out tonight, even if it ends up being your first and only date together, is an honor. He’s much less focused now on all the ways he could screw up, hyper-fixated on putting the effort in to make this the best night of your life.

That effort comes out in the carefully selected suit jacket he dons over his white button-up, the extra spritz of cologne, the careful touch-up shave to vanquish his five o’clock shadow, the extra ten minutes using the perfect amount of product in his hair so that it stays in place yet is still soft to the touch.

By the time he gets to Enzo’s (half an hour early, mind), he’s practically vibrating with nerves and anticipation. He’s never been much of an overthinker, but he sure is tonight. Is this place too much for the first date? Would you rather do something lowkey, like catch a movie or go for a walk in the park? He has to remind himself a couple of times that you agreed to this, that you wouldn’t have said yes if you weren’t interested in the arrangement.

To say he’s prepared for this is putting it lightly. He’s run through every possible scenario in his mind, gone over conversation starters and questions he wants to ask you over and over again until he knows exactly how he wants to phrase each thing.

And still, nothing could prepare him for when you walk through the door.

He has to physically restrain his jaw from dropping because in the moment he sees you, every well-planned thought and all etiquette is flushed down the proverbial pipes. You’re nothing short of breathtaking in a dress that hugs all the right curves and shows just enough cleavage to have him imagining what else there might be to see. Your hair is pinned back out of your face, eyes framed by just the slightest bit of makeup to make the color of your irises pop. He swears he’s never seen a shade quite like them. It’s like you move in slow motion as you approach him–he sees the entrance of the smoking hot love interest in every romantic comedy, complete with smoke and fireworks, as you move towards the table.

And then some sense of decorum returns to his addled brain, and he quickly shoots up so he can pull out your chair for you like a proper gentleman. He catches just the slightest whiff of your perfume, and he’s a goner. He’s ready to sign his life away to you, to yank his own heart out of his chest to offer to your careful hands.

He has to give his head a shake to compose himself before he goes any further off the deep end. No one’s ever thoroughly shaken him the way you have, and it’s been a matter of thirty seconds. It’s almost intimidating, the effect you have on him.

“You look… incredible,” he fumbles as he takes his seat across from you. “I mean, you always do, but… wow.”

The shy giggle you emit tugs at a heartstring he didn’t even know he had.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a genuine smile. “You clean up very well yourself.”

“I do like to put in some effort every once in a while.” He flashes the most charming smile he can muster, and just like that he’s back. His resolve to impress you is reinforced tenfold. You’ve shaken him, and it’s such an unfamiliar feeling that he’s practically bumbling. He wants to shake you just as badly.

The food’s delicious, and the conversation’s even better. He has a track record for taking out a more–for lack of a better term–bimbo-y type, and that’s definitely not you. You’re smart, you’re witty, but you don’t make him feel like an idiot. He’s so taken with you that he doesn’t even notice that three hours have passed until he looks around the room and notices that every table is now empty and bussed.

The waiter delivers the check, and Steve notices you gnawing on your lip.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, trying not to be too prying.

“I don’t want this to be over yet.”

Steve smiles. He’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. He’s never been so sure of anything, and that surprises him. He’s used to dates who are easy to read and even easier to take home, and those aren’t the impressions you’ve been giving him. To know that you’re feeling exactly what he’s feeling is a huge confidence boost.

“I don’t either.”

Your hand is so small compared to his. That’s all he can think about as he strolls next to you, his fingers intertwined with yours. He’s always considered hand-holding to be child’s play, it’s never excited him before the way it does in this moment with you.

It’s pitch black in the park and he can hear the overlapping chirping of summer cicadas and grasshoppers, the perfect background noise now that the conversation has died down. It’s less about getting to know each other at this point and more just basking in each other’s presence, prolonging the inevitable because neither one of you can bear to call it a night when it’s been such a good few hours.

You’re shocked, to say the very least. Steve certainly has a reputation, and it’s not for being a romantic. Yet everything tonight has flown in the face of all the rumors you’ve been hearing since junior high. You figured he’d be a fun fling, and probably only one night at that–you’d made your peace with the idea. To find that he’s kind, considerate, funny, and can match your intellect and quick wit… it’s a very pleasant surprise. And that’s what has you out well past a decent hour, giddy over simply holding his hand like you’re a damned school girl all over again.

“I should probably let you go home,” Steve sighs wistfully. He hates to be the one to bring it up, but you’re on your fifth lap around the park and about to circle back to where your car is parked so now seems the best time.

You’re chewing your lip again, a thoughtful habit that makes his heart pound just a little bit harder.

Here’s the thing: you’re really not the bold type. You act confident, sure, but in practice it’s a lot more difficult for you. So no one’s more surprised than you are when you say, “You could come home with me. If you want.”

Steve’s definitely shocked, too. Less shocked at your proposition and more at the fact that he’s tempted to decline. Because no matter how much he’s been running through the back of his mind what you might look like under that gorgeous dress, he doesn’t want this to end there. For the first time in his life, he wants to find more meaning than sex out of a relationship. He doesn’t want to take you home and never see you again. He wants to take you out again, and again, and again, and again after that. He sees a future, for once, that doesn’t look dim and hopeless. That fact alone scares the shit out of him.

He realizes he’s waited way too long to reply and fumbles for an answer. “Of course I want to. I’d be an idiot not to. But…”

You chew that cursed bottom lip of yours again, and Steve has to focus on the obvious cue you’re giving him rather than the fact that he wants to be the next set of teeth around that lip.

He stops in his tracks, gently pulling on your hand to face him so he can take your other hand in his free one. “It’s not a bad but. I mean, I’m going to go home kicking myself for saying no because I really honestly do want to… well, y’know. But… I want to do this right with you. I want to take you out again. I want to get to know you and see where this goes. I can’t… I don’t want this to end tonight.”

He’s eternally grateful for how dark it is as he feels a flush consume his face. He can’t remember a time he’s been so honest and open, especially on a first date; but the look on your face tells him he’s done something right.

“Okay,” you tell him, squeezing his hands in yours. “You… honestly have no clue how nice it is to hear that.”

“Of course,” he continues, “if you just want me for my body, no hard feelings.”

You laugh at that, genuinely laugh, and Steve thinks it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

“No,” you reassure him. “No, I… I wanna see where this goes, too.”

You’re stopped only a few paces from your car, and Steve knows with a twist of his gut that this is the end of the night. It makes his gut turn with disappointment, but also with anticipation of when he’ll see you next. Already, his mind is flooding with ideas of where he can take you and what you’ll do together.

You drop one of his hands so you can walk but keep a tight grip on the other until you get to your driver’s side door, hesitating outside because you’re still not ready for this to be over. It takes every ounce of restraint he has not to kiss you, unsure of if that would be moving too fast.

Thankfully, you make the call yourself. Leaning up on your toes, hands against his chest for balance, you press your lips against his and he has to summon every mite of strength not to moan. No one’s ever tasted so sweet, molded against him so perfectly. His hands drift from your shoulders down your arms, coming to rest on your waist as he pulls you just a little bit closer. It’s a fight of will not to overstep, to break off the kiss before it can become too heated. His mind is spinning by the time you break away. He’s aching for more, and he hopes you are too. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

Your sweet voice replays in his mind all night, long after you’ve gotten into your car and driven away, long after he’s returned to his own vehicle and pulled the radio out from under the driver’s seat to check in with Dustin, long after he arrives home and soaks in a cold shower for longer than he probably should. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get your voice out of his head, and he couldn’t be any less upset about it.

He practically counts down the minutes until he sees you again. This time, he has a little less restraint. He greets you with a kiss–a sweet peck and a hand on your waist that leaves you aching for even more.

It’s a movie this time, a chance to enjoy each other’s company on a night you’re both too tired from working to engage in heavy conversation and getting to know each other further.

It starts with sharing popcorn, then holding hands, then somewhere along the way the film is completely forgotten in favor of your lips meeting his. His breath grows heavy as his hands hold your face, committing you to memory while resisting the urge to explore further. Your hands, meanwhile, are firmly on his thighs, gripping tightly to keep yourself steady as you do everything you can to keep yourself from crawling into his lap.

He whispers your name, and your grip on him tightens.

“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, then gives up on the futile attempt at finishing his sentence so that he can pull you even deeper into the kiss as his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip.

It takes everything in him not to moan when your lips eagerly part to accept him.

Needless to say, once the credits start rolling you’re both more than a little hot under the collar.

“Let me buy you dinner,” Steve suggests as he woefully unwinds himself from you. Declining doesn’t even flicker through your mind as a possibility.

It’s not Enzo’s this time, but it doesn’t have to be. He could set a soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of you at this point and you’d still thank him for it. This time around, you’re not really as interested in the cuisine as you are just simply getting through this meal to what’s next. Because what’s next is all you’ve been thinking about since you walked through the doors the night of that very first date and saw Steve Harrington wearing a blazer for you. It’s a level of effort he’s definitely not known for–in fact, he’s built a reputation for putting in so little effort that it nearly made your jaw drop to see him trying. And it certainly made your heart skip a beat.

But then again, the Steve before you carelessly wolfing down his bacon cheeseburger seems very different from the Steve you knew in high school, even if you didn’t know that iteration as intimately as this one. That one was cool, collected, snarky and pompous and maddeningly desirable.

This Steve, your Steve, is nearly an exact foil. Much less cocky, a little less confident but more self-assured in the ways that actually hold meaning, less worried about what the people around him are observing of him than what you’re observing of him. He seems happier, more carefree, more eager to please others than simply himself. He’s grown so much in such a short amount of time, and you feel proud just for having the honor to witness it. Significantly more proud to be on the receiving end of his affections now that they hold the kind of value you’ve always wished they would.

He looks up and notices you staring at him while lost in thought, a small smile spreading across his lips as your eyes quickly dart away.

“What’s on your mind?” He questions as he licks a stray bit of ketchup from his thumb.

“Just… happy I’m here. With you.” It brings heat to your cheeks to admit it, but you don’t want him to go unappreciated in this moment.

It’s the right thing to say, because his smile grows even wider. “I’m happy too,” he admits. “I… I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while. Could never work up the courage, I guess.”

“Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington was intimidated by me?” You say it with a mock gasp, but your shock is more genuine than you give off. Never in a million years would you have thought that he, the man who could have whoever he wanted, would be worried over you saying no to him. It’s almost comical, especially considering the way you practically threw yourself at him on your first date. Of course then, you had no clue how much he’d developed as a person. You’re almost ashamed of your behavior now, as if you might’ve inadvertently been taking advantage of the new and improved Steve who isn’t just into you for a hookup.

He shrugs, nearly bashful at your teasing. “Never figured I was good enough for you. So I didn’t bother to try.”

You’re genuinely curious now, leaning in a little closer and brushing your fingers against his hand resting atop the diner counter. “What made you change your mind?”

“Honestly? I was so sure you’d say no that I asked just to give Robin a chuckle. She loves watching me get shot down.”

That makes you frown, and he’s quick to backtrack. “I wanted to! I just… I’ve had a bad track record lately. And you’re… you’re you. You’re the last person I should be worthy of.”

His eyes are quick to avert from your gaze, bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he contemplates whether he’s said too much.

“Steve…” you properly grab his hand now in the hopes that it’ll bring his eyes back to you, and it works. “You’re the only person I’ve deemed worthy in a long time, honestly.”

Steve Harrington is scaldingly warm. It’s one of many sensations forcing your mind into overdrive as he lays you delicately across the backseat of his beemer, one hand cushioning the back of your head while simultaneously deepening the already heated kiss and the other balancing his weight to lean over you in the cramped space without completely crushing you.

Your fingers tangle themselves into his soft brown locks, tugging ever-so-slightly as his tongue slips between your parted lips. He’s an eager explorer and you’re more than happy to let him take the lead, to show you all the skill you’ve heard so many whispers about.

You let out an involuntary moan as he wedges himself even closer to you, his body heat soaking through all the layers of clothing between the two of you and warming you all the way to your very bones.

You’re practically aching, ready to beg, and he knows it the second you wrap your legs around his waist in an attempt to get him even closer. If there’s one thing Steve Harrington’s good at, it’s assessing your needs. He pulls away just the slightest bit to adjust his position so he can get closer, wedging a knee between your legs to press right against your core, and it makes you jolt back against the car door at the same time his head hits the roof just a bit too hard.

You both pause for a moment, the reality of your situation hitting you simultaneously, and then you’re laughing. It’s light and edged with unresolved want, but it’s enough to fracture the tension of the moment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Shouldn’t have gotten so carried away. This isn’t how I want to do this.”

“No?”

“No. You deserve way better than this old beater,” he chuckles, then leans down to kiss you. This kiss is lighter, no longer edged with tension and lust. He kisses you just to kiss you–there’s no end goal to it this time.

“What could be better than a BMW?” You tease lightly, trying to reassure him that you’re less disappointed than you really feel.

“You know. Something romantic. A proper bed, rose petals, maybe a few candles…”

“I don’t need all that,” you try to tell him.

“I think I do,” he admits. And that’s enough to pull you back, to remind you that you need to be patient and grateful that he values you so much as to want to do this whole thing properly. That his affection is something to be cherished, not taken for granted.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to be pushy.”

“Please don’t apologize.” He hesitates to untangle himself from you, even though he knows he needs to. “I want this just as bad. I just… I need it to be right.”

“As long as I have you, it’ll be right,” you reassure. “I hope you know that.”

He presses his lips to yours again, a slow and passionate kiss that he hopes communicates every bit of adoration he feels for you in this moment.

“It’ll be perfect. I swear,” he vows. You’ve never believed anything more whole-heartedly than you do this promise. 

~~~

“Wait, you’re telling me that you literally had her under you and you stopped?” Robin’s halfway through chewing a mouthful of popcorn and the absolute carnage inside her agape mouth makes Steve give her a light shove.

“It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full, y’know.”

“It’s not polite to blue-ball either!” She shoots back in utter disbelief.

“How do you think I felt? I was this close,” he holds his thumb and index finger barely millimeters apart, “to sealing the deal.”

She just shakes her head. “You, Steve Harrington, are a genuine, bonafide idiot.”

She’s not telling him anything he doesn’t know. It’s been three days since the aborted fling in the backseat of his car, and he’s barely thought of anything else. Especially since you’ve been away from home both of the past nights when he’s called. He’s starting to worry you’ve gotten the wrong impression, that he’s not interested or that he’s toying with you. It’s the exact opposite. He wants nothing more than to know you in the most intimate way he can know you. But he needs it to be flawless. He needs it to be well thought-out and precisely planned, the most romantic event in the history of copulation. He won’t settle for anything less, not with you. You deserve perfection, and he won’t give you anything less.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he tries to explain. “I want to more than anything. But if you’re gonna go to town on a goddess, you need to do some worshiping, y’know? I don’t feel like I’ve done enough.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear this admission. You weren’t sure what to expect–worried that maybe visiting him at work was an overstep–but hearing him call you a goddess certainly wasn’t on your radar.

“You’ve done more than enough, Steve.”

The sound of your voice makes Steve jump and whirl around, oblivious to Robin’s sly smirk and mumbled excuse of needing to attend to something in the back room.

“H-hey!” He squeaks, then clears his throat in an attempt to get his tone back to its normal octave. “What… what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, just came to pick up a tape,” you tease. “But mostly I came to see you.”

“Me?” He takes a moment to ground himself, loosening his too-tight grip on the counter. “I mean… I tried to call you last night. And the night before?”

Your brow furrows. “Really? I didn’t get your message.”

Because he didn’t leave one. He clears his throat and says, “I just figured you were busy.”

“Oh, well, I volunteer at the animal shelter on Wednesdays, and last night was my friend’s 21st birthday. I’m sorry I missed you, though.”

He can tell that you’re really remorseful, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest a little bit. He plays it off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No, it’s fine, it’s… are you free tonight?”

You giggle at the abrupt redirect, but he’s played directly into your hand.

“Yeah, actually. I was hoping maybe you could help me pick out something for us to watch tonight? If you’re free too, that is.”

His dark eyes blink slowly, wondering if you’re aware of the implication behind your completely innocent words. You. Him. A movie. Alone. It’s enough to make his head spin. 

“I’ve never been freer.”

Conveniently, you’ve come in close enough to the end of his shift that by the time you’re done combing through Family Video’s vast selection for the perfect film to use as background noise, Steve’s ready to clock out. And since you walked over after finishing your own shift at the local dollar store up the street, it works out perfectly that he can give you a ride straight to his place.

You only glance in the backseat once, but it’s enough to get your mind churning. Remembering the feeling of him, of what could’ve been. Anticipating what will be.

“Parents home?” You ask as he pulls into his driveway and parks, trying to sound casual and utterly failing.

“Nope,” he answers easily. “Took a detour to Cabo on their way home from Hawaii.”

“Sounds glamorous. You opted out?”

“I’d rather be here in Hawkins with you than on a beach alone anyday.”

He must know the effect his words have on you. Surely he can hear the way your heart picks up pace as he looks at you with those dark, affectionate eyes.

“So… this is home.” He waves a hand around the entrance hall like it’s a shabby nightmare, not the grandest house you’ve ever been in.

“I’m starting to understand why they used to call you King Steve.”

He’s almost embarrassed at the mention of that old high school nickname. “Trust me, this isn’t why.”

“Well, a palace does befit you,” you tell him with a smirk.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush.” The wink he shoots you makes your gut erupt with butterflies, a sensation that would normally make you a little uncomfortable. With Steve, you’d take the butterflies all day long.

He gives you a cursory and oversimplified tour of the ground floor before leading you upstairs, and suddenly he’s sheepish. It’s been a few moons since he shared his room with a girl, so the nerves are justified. But that’s too simple an explanation. You’re not a girl. You’re his dream, his muse, his–to re-quote himself–goddess. No one he’s ever cared about more has stood where you’re standing, and it terrifies him.

He hides it well, though, busying himself with making a comfortable nest for you in his bed before setting up the television set on the dresser against the far wall. If ever there was a time to regain his confidence, it’s now. He curses whatever god there is that he feels like a fumbling virgin in this moment when nothing is even happening, when just the anticipation is enough to make his hands tremble.

There’s no more stalling once you’re comfortable and the tape is set to play. His heart pounds to the steady and frantic rhythm of one of those heavy rock songs Dustin listens to now as he sits next to you, hands itching to take a hold of you but also eager not to move too fast.

Almost as if you can sense his hesitation, you reach over and take his hand. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

And so he does, and the second his lips slot to yours all the worry and anxiety is gone. He’s Steve Harrington, and he knows what he’s doing. You’re you, and he’s wanted this for so long. After years of being lost, he deserves to finally find the love he’s been looking for. He’s never been so sure of anything as he is, in this moment of initial clarity, that he’s in love with you.

He can’t say it, not yet. He’s sure it’s too soon, and the last thing he wants is to scare you off. But he’s determined to prove it to you, and the only way besides words is action.

He can handle action.

There’s no more restraint or hesitation behind his touch. This is it, this is what you’ve both been waiting for. There’s no way in hell he’s not going to deliver now. He’s desperate for you, and it shows in the heavy way his hands drag along your curves whilst committing you to memory; the way his tongue languidly swipes across your bottom lip; the way he shifts effortlessly to hover over you even while deepening the kiss.

He’s overwhelming every single sense of yours in such a sudden fashion, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Especially not when his hips meet yours in a deliciously slow grind and you finally get your first little taste of what’s to come.

He keens at the little breathless whimpers that leave your mouth, reading every single signal you provide him with and accommodating each. Moaning? He continues what he’s doing, intensifying if deemed necessary. Whining? He adds something, because he knows it’s hard to use your words when you’re wanting so badly. Squirming? He pays attention to the direction of your movement and pulls away or presses closer depending on necessity. It’s down to science for him; he only really cared about extracurriculars in school anyway, and this was certainly his favorite.

But then he comes to his senses–while he doesn’t pull away completely, he needs to clear his mind and he does so by letting up a bit, allowing the kiss to become languid and the heat to extinguish a bit. It only makes you whine more, and Steve curses his damned formula. You shouldn’t be part of an equation. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, and every aspect of your relationship so far has been a new experience for him. He needs this particular activity to be different too. No formulas or calculations. Just you and him and whatever happens naturally.

Clearly you can hear the cogs in his mind turning. You pull away with a concerned look on your face and ask, “what’s on your mind?”

Now’s not the time to hide anything from you, he reasons with himself. He wants to be authentic with you, and part of that means telling the truth, even if it’s not something particularly comfortable.

“I’m… falling into a routine. And I don’t want to,” he admits. He sighs and leans back, one hand dragging through his shaggy and disheveled hair, sure that he’s going to ruin the mood if he carries on like this. But he refuses to back away from the truth now. “This… it’s always been like…. Like a series of checkpoints. Boxes to check, y’know? Kiss you, take your clothes off, make you come, fuck you, say goodnight. And I don’t want… I can’t let it be like that with you. I need this to be… real. Not just some list to cross shit off of. I don’t–”

Steve takes a long, shaky breath before he can ramble on anymore. Never has someone so thoroughly gotten under his skin. He’s never felt so insecure, so unsure. It’s terrifying. The most terrifying part of it all, though, is that he likes it. He loves the feeling of the unfamiliarity, of doing this right. In a way, it’s almost like he’s doing all of this for the first time all over again. You’re his first date, first kiss, first time. All because he’s changed so drastically, because he’s not even remotely the same person he was just a year or two ago.

Your hands are so gentle as you cup his face, tenderly forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Steve… we don’t have to do this, not if you’re not ready. I want to be with you, not just for this, but for everything. Everything that comes with you… that’s what I want. There’s no pressure. I would wait a hundred years for you to be ready so long as I could still have you.”

Steve’s breath shakes a little as he comprehends the gravity of your words. There’s nothing he can say that can properly convey the gratitude he holds for your words, so he says nothing at all.

In his silence, you continue. “You’re more than a body, you know that, right? You’re funny, and kind, and smart. Yes, smart, don’t look at me like that. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted to be close to. I just… I want to spend time with you. I want to watch stupid movies and eat diner food until we get sick and laugh at your stupid jokes… and maybe make love with you, sure, but that’s pretty low on the list as long as I just get to be with you.”

He doesn’t notice the tears until it’s too late–by the time you’re wiping them from the apples of his cheeks it’s far too late to take them back or hide them. With anyone else, he would be angry; at himself, for allowing himself to be so vulnerable. For allowing himself to be so emotional. With you, though… with you, his emotions make him feel strong. 

For the first time since you walked into his life, he’s not scared of losing you.

“I love you,” he tells you. His voice is firm, as fierce as the kiss he presses to your mouth, as powerful as the waves of emotion vibrating through his very soul. “I love you so much.”

He barely gives you a chance to reply, as keen as he is on physically proving his love to you through myriad passionate kisses that leave you breathless. But when you finally get the chance to use your voice after a barrage of kisses that start to trail down your neck, you whisper, “I love you too.”

Four words, and they’re all he needs to quell every worry or fear he’s had over doing this relationship properly with you. Why should he have to worry, after all, when he’s already succeeded? 

“I love you,” he whispers as he trails down your neck and to your chest, leaving tender love bites on the tops of your breasts once he’s properly liberated you from your shirt.

“I love you,” he mumbles through sucking a mark a few inches north of your navel.

“I love you,” he murmurs when his lips meet your waistband. His fingers make quick work of your pants as he scatters kisses over your stomach, unable to part his mouth from your skin for even a moment.

“I love you,” he affirms as his mouth meets your hot and waiting core.

There’s no more checklist. Because this isn’t simply sex, as it always has been for him in the past. This is love-making: the kind of sappy shit they talk about in all those Hallmark movies that he rolls his eyes at the sight of. It’s like losing his virginity all over again.

He understands the old adage of “the other half” now. You’ve ripped him to shreds and sewed him back together with strands of yourself. The end result is better than the original ever could’ve even dreamed to be. He’s sure he couldn’t possibly live without you now, that losing you would be like ripping out fresh and unhealed stitches.

You’re not sure how long he camps out between your trembling thighs, but it’s long enough for you to lose count of the number of times he pulls you apart–first with his languid tongue; then his long, curved fingers; then a combination of the two. It’s like he loses himself completely in your pleasure, not a single thought in his head except what he can do to bring you to the edge again, and again, and again.

You’re trembling with oversensitivity by the time his own needs overtakes his desperation to unravel you. So out of it that you feel drunk, like Steve’s laced you with absolute bliss so pure you can barely stand it.

You’re hardly present enough to appreciate the adonis before you when he finally undoes his own jeans, and that’s a damned shame because he’s so damned pretty. Long and thick, flushed at the girthy tip from his hitherto unacknowledged arousal. His lean thighs are pure muscle, and the dark thatch of hair that trails south from his navel makes your mouth water. He’s everything you dreamed he’d be and so much more.

“Steve…” You don’t know what else you can possibly say. All you can do is vainly hope that one whine of his name can convey all of the heat, frustration, tension, and above all longing, swirling through your head in the moment.

He breaks from his lustful reverie for a moment to smile as he leans in for another heated kiss; you think it’s safe to say you’ve gotten your point across.

He slows from his mania for a few moments, lips tender as they explore against yours once more. These kisses are languid, slow, yet no less heated. Even now, he’s trying to prove his love to you. As if you could somehow not believe him after everything that’s happened, every small moment you’ve spent with him witnessing how hard he’s trying for you.

Somewhere in between kisses he manages to wrestle a condom out of his nightstand, miraculously without ever breaking from your lips.

Now is where you cut in, finally fading out of your over-pleasured fugue and back to reality. You take the little foil packet from his hands and tear it open, eager for this small chance to finally get a hand or two on him.

He lets out the most gorgeous noise you’ve ever heard as you roll the rubber down his length; a deep, earthy, diaphragmatic moan just from the simple touch of your hand. You want to touch him even more, to wrest out more of those sounds from him; to see what other undiscovered responses you can pull from him as you pleasure him. But you know that now, he needs to set the pace. He believes he has something to prove, and you’re more than happy to let him prove it. There will be plenty of other opportunities to have him completely at your mercy, anyway.

There’s no way to describe the feeling as he slides into you. It’s more than bliss, more than euphoria, more than earth-shattering toe-curling mind-altering pleasure. It’s nothing more than feeling whole. Of never knowing you were missing a part of yourself until it’s suddenly returned to you. Of never knowing what home felt like until this exact moment.

Maybe it’s overdramatic. Maybe it’s outlandish and outrageous and a million other adjectives to feel something so overpowering and overwhelming from such a seemingly simple physical act. But in this moment, you know you’ve never felt anything as right as being connected to Steve in this way.

His lips hardly leave yours while he rolls his hips against you, easily finding the perfect angle to make your breath hitch and your hands scrabble for purpose.

It admittedly doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t have to. Once you start to tighten and pulse around him, he’s a goner–deep purposeful thrusts turning to hard, arrhythmic plunges in desperate search of release.

You’re still shaking from your high when he slowly pulls out of you. He keeps you close, arms linked around your waist and dragging you to lay on his chest as he flops back against the pillows. 

You’re not sure how long you lay like that, with Steve whispering sweet nothings into your hair and pressing absentminded kisses to your face. All you can really focus on is one all-consuming, life-changing fact.

“I love you, Steve Harrington.”

“I love you too,” he whispers back. He kisses you again, just a simple peck on your lips, and you know that he’s telling the truth. It’s an eternal truth: one that can’t be changed or altered in any way. Steve Harrington loves you with every fibre of his being, and he will for the rest of his life–even if you’re both blissfully unaware of it for now.

THE END

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[springgirlshowers]

could you do joost x gn reader, but it’s literally just them cuddling in bed during a thunderstorm??

Monsoon Season

Pairing: Joost x GN!Reader (no pronouns used)

CW: none!

WC: 726

AN: such a cutey cute lil concept!! fun fact: i wrote this as it was storming hard as hell outside lmao

Just as you were about to send Joost a text, asking how far away he was, you heard the front door open behind.

As you sat up from your spot on the couch, you were met with Joost standing with grocery bags in his hands, absolutely drenched from the rain.

It had started storming about ten minutes ago and Joost must’ve got caught in the middle of the rain on the way back from a recording session.

“I got the stuff you said we needed for dinner.” Joost gave you an amused smile as he held up the bag.

You immediately got up and went over to him, as much as you tried not to, you giggled at a bit at his soaked state.

“Thank you.” You smiled, giving him a small kiss, “Now, I’ll put these away, you go change.” You said as you took the bags from his hands, he just nodded and kicked off his shoes, walking down the hallway into your shared bedroom to change into drier clothes.

You put the groceries into the fridge and kitchen cabinets while waiting for Joost to get finished changing.

You were already done putting everything away by the time he returned, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a green hoodie, camouflage patterns on the hood. His hair had dried a bit more, now messier.

Joost walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Better?” You asked, putting your hands on top of his.

“Mhm, much.” He let out a happy breath. It felt so peaceful in the apartment, the hard rain from outside with the warm light from the lamp in the living room made the perfect cozy atmosphere.

Until a flash of lightning and loud rumble of thunder struck outside, scaring and making both of you jump of you a tiny bit.

“The weather app said it’s gonna be like this for the next few days.” You sighed, turning around in his grasp.

“I guess we’ll be stuck inside for the next few days then.” He moved his hands from your waist to the sides of your face, you nearly shuddered when felt how cold his palms were.

“You’re really cold. You’re sure you feel better?”

“I could use some warming up.” He shrugged, a knowing smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes playfully, letting him take your hands and drag you into the bedroom.

You got into bed first, shuffling under the sheets while Joost followed, laying on top of you.

“I’m so tired. Today was so exhausting.” He mumbled against your chest. Joost enjoyed making music, but this feeling wasn’t uncommon for him after being at the studio for hours on end.

“How’s the album going?” You hummed, pulling the blankets up over the both of you.

“Its frustrating. Nothing is turning out the way I want it to.” He let out an annoyed sigh at the thought of it. “I’m honestly just thinking about scrapping most of the songs because of it.”

“Oh come on, you’ll get them how you want them eventually.” You frowned. “You always do.” You added, hoping it would bring some relief.

“You really think so?”

“I know so.” You ran your hands through his hair, he let out a pleased breath and wrapped his arms a little bit tighter around you in response.

Even though you didn’t have a good look at his face, you could feel his smile against your skin.

The sound of the rain hitting the window and soft thunder in the distance with the warmth of your body against his and you raking your hands through his hair made him feel the most relaxed he’s been in weeks.

It didn’t take long after for his eyelids to become droopy, eventually shutting his eyes in complete bliss.

“I was thinking dinner tomorrow could be pasta. But you might have to go back into the rain again to get the noodles.” You joked, there was no response from Joost.

“Joost?” You said softly, no response again.

Craning your neck a bit to get a better look at his face, you could see he was absolutely knocked out.

His eyes shut, lips slightly parted, face completely relaxed. You smiled to yourself, deciding maybe you could let him sleep for a little bit before you got up.

[spiritsglade]

"You know, I'm starting to think that I'm not very good at hide and seek."

The cactus studied Peril without judgment. That was nice of it. It looked very stately sitting there, despite how fluffy it looked. The desert wasn't too bad, the texture of sand familiar and the sky so open she felt like she could fly forever.

"You aren't going to find me by talking to a plant."

Peril jumped, then yelped; her snout bumped into the cactus—it was not as fluffy as it looked—the spines caught fire—

The fire was gone as quickly as it arrived, the cactus unperturbed beyond a patch of missing fluff. Peril raised her head, feeling not nearly as as dignified. "I'm starting to think you have an unfair advantage."

Glory snorted, her voice towards the right, Peril came up empty as she scanned the dunes. "You did well when you were hiding!"

"Burrowing under sand is the worst experience I've had in my life."

The cactus suddenly seemed a lot more judgmental.

"After the murdering, I guess."

"After the murdering," Glory affirmed, but she broke down into giggles a moment later, a tremor that shook her frame just enough to mess up the camouflage. Peril spotted the fluctuating landscape immediately, triumphant.

"Aha! There you are."

Orange eyes blinked out of thin air at her, narrowed. "Oh you planned this."

Peril grinned. "I would never."

[base0h]

Smoker, Luffy and croco boy with a s/o who has the same devil fruit as them and uses it to annoy/prank them constantly.

Crack fic pls

Take care love<3

not me starting to laugh like doffy when I saw this💀💀 ew. anon thank you for allowing me to showcase my endless amount of crack in my mind 💜

warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, crack

- the amount of times you’ve scared the shit out of this man is kind of sad. I’m assuming poor smoker gets spooked a lot because of your abilities, and sometimes you’re not even trying to scare him 💀

- you could be minding your own business, floating around and flying around the room during a break with a face mask on. Bro walks in and just dies bec the first thing he sees is a detached floating head with a white face

- “WHAT THE FU-?!”

- and when he gets scared he sets off a bunch of “traps” aka stubbing his toe on a chair that was clearly out of the way, and hitting his head on the doorway

- “IT’S ME!” -you

- I mean- what the fuck were you supposed to do? The man just kept falling backwards into things! He thought you were some kind of monster so he just kept running as he tripped over everything in his way 💀

- this is what he thought was happening:

- “SMOKER. IT’S LITERALLY ME STOP RUNNING!”

- “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO MY GIRLFRIEND?!”

- Tashigi started chasing after him too because she was wondering something abt navy stuff so he kept getting more scared since he couldn’t see what was chasing him😭he just thought you were multiplying 💀

- I’d be scared too if some Smokey person is literally floating after me with a face mask 😂😂😂

- man smoked 56 cigarettes before finally calming down

- “I wish you didn’t have the same devilfruit as me y/n.”

- “OH COME ON I WASNT EVEN TRYING TO SCARE YOU!”

- “IT WORKED!” -him

- “Do you still love me tho?” -you

- “..yeah.”

- on your birthday he blew himself into a balloon and camouflaged into the numerous balloons you got from the crew before you woke up

- when you finally woke up (keep in mind, Luffy was so determined that he woke up early for this prank :0) you stared at the balloons with a smile, the crew was so nice!

- “Hey thanks guys!”

- you walked over to them and took the string of one of them in your hand. It’s amazing how you didn’t hear Luffy giggling like a maniac 😭

- he scooted behind you, making himself lose a bit of air so his blown up face was right behind your head, tapping your shoulder with his long arm

- “BOOO!”

- Nah you smacked the shit out of him, screaming as your fists were covered in haki, ready to punch the absolute soul out of him from fear

- “Luffy?! WHAT THE HELL?!”

- “Ow! Why did you punch me?!”

- “BECAUSE YOU SCARED ME!”

- Poor dude’s face was swollen for the whole day, and you apologized for hitting him after he said sorry for scaring you.

- can you imagine a Luffy balloon in your face? No I don’t mean just his stomach blowing up, I mean his fucking face blown up, and the rest of his body looking all skinny as the string 💀💀 pls I’d cry and shit my pants

- you really can’t beat him in pranks because he always seemed to get you better 😭 but you sure tried

- at night when he was snoring away, you attached yourself to the ceiling, your limbs stretching as your head stretched down to him. (You looked like my sleep demon) “Pssst, Luuuuuuffyyy!”

- “Hm???”

- ok when you’re half asleep you can’t really make out anything, so all the poor guy saw was a fucking demon

- the way he screamed and ran was hilarious, he did not sleep well for days, and clung onto you in bed or whenever he got a chance 🥲

- 100% done with your shit :)

- One time you pretended you were a sandcastle on the beach and waited for him to get closer before making your face pop out at him

- he smacked you with his hook. And… broke your nose 💀

- “…Sorry.”

- “…It’s fine. I’m sorry for trying to scare you.”

- you’re literally struggling to hold in your tears with blood pouring from your nose (BRO WHEN YOUR NOSE GETS SMACKED IT HURTS)

- he felt bad because you’re trying not to cry while sobbing. Poor guy didn’t mean to slap you with haki 💀 nor did he mean to break your nose in half

- he gave you a hug, and let you wear his coat as long as you want since it’s super cozy and fluffy. Also made sandcastles with you while you recovered

- after you felt better, and your nose was finally healed, you both went to the beach again to relax.

- He didn’t like going near the water so he just sat on a chair and watched you find seashells, little sea snails, and other stuff. You brought one back for him, and I swear you’re going to kill the poor guy because of how sweet you are 😭

- he found a mound of sand next to his chair and sighed, you’re trying to prank him again? Didn’t you ever learn?

- “y/n I know that’s you.”

- when there was no response, he grumbled and stood up, poking at the mound with a sigh.

- “Y/n. Please stop.”

- “Huh? Crocodile? Why are you poking that mound of sand?” -you

- his eyes widened as he turned around to see you standing there with a couple sea shells. Wait a damn minute, then what the fuck was this mound of sand doing here?!

- “CROCODILE THOSE ARE SAND SNAKES!”

- The snakes poked their heads out and poor Crocodile picked you up bridal style and started running as they chased you two

- “I THOUGHT IT WAS YOU!” -him

- “I’M NOT DUMB ENOUGH TO DO THAT AGAIN!”

- You gotta hand it to him, the first thing he did when he saw those snakes was pick you up and start running as fast as he could 😭 you were glad you had such a caring man :))) because doffy would’ve totally left you to die 💀

a/n - I feel bad for smoker