#would’ve been funny if she just kinda like…admitted to it nonchalantly…but that’s not her character obviously but LMFAO i still enjoy it

[acornwinter]

hi have some bullshit digital things I created…

DALDOM (Dream a Little Dream of Me- I just started it but like it’s fun…) and Blasphemous rumors are written by @boundinparchment on Tumblr and AO3! (I think DALDOM is only on AO3…but nonetheless it’s still very very yummy.)

My OC- Frost… they’re not a genshin OC, just my main OC that I throw at every fandom + they have their own lore. Their own lore will be posted when I’m not lazy- but they’re a God lol. Greek Mythology! Would ramble right now but this post isn’t necessarily about their lore, so…

NSFW (?- mentions of it) UNDER CUT

[eirist]

Little Bits and Pieces of Heaven

TRICK OR TREAT?

One-shot #: 22

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T (Playful, sexy, suggestive)

Note: Happy Halloween! What is this day if we don’t have a ZoNa one-shot centered on this theme right? This is Prompt #9 – Trick or Treat from the Autumn/Fall (and Halloween!) Prompt List.

Summary: Because when are treats just sweets?

“AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

Laughter filled the air, its tone howling and mocking—obviously at the expense of one poor soul unluckily enough to be the cause of it.

“Shut. Up.”

That comment prompted another round of laughter. Louder, more jeering.

“What in the—hahaha!—world… ha-happened to y-you?” Usopp stammered the question, gasping for air as he tried to get some words out while still laughing.

“I said. Shut. Up!” Zoro snarled towards his direction.

Sanji’s grin was pure evil as he peered down from the galley deck, laughing as well. “Say what now?” He teased. “Kindly… uh… growl that again for us?”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAH!” Usopp did not hold back this time. He had actually fallen down to his knees on the grassy deck, laughing still and clutching his middle at the same time.

“Guys…” Nami was trying hard—very hard—to hold back her own laughter at the sight before her. Her lower lip trembled at the effort and she bit at it, hoping to gain some control.

“But Nami-san…!” Sanji wasn’t able to continue what he was saying. He exploded into laughter again while pointing at the three figures standing in the middle of the Sunny’s deck.

Their three crewmates had just returned to the ship after frolicking in the island where they are docked. It would’ve been a normal occurrence… if not for the fact that the three are wearing costumes.

Animal costumes.

Animal jumpsuit costumes.

Nami covered her mouth with her hand to prevent the snort of  laughter that threatened to come out of her as she stared at Luffy, Chopper and…

… dear Kami, Zoro.

Her eyes met his and her shoulders shook from hindering her laugh. His glare was scathing, venomous even.

And she wisely kept her mouth shut lest she incur his wrath.

She actually doesn’t want to get into his bad side tonight.

Not when he is in that tiger costume looking like he was gonna maul everyone to death any minute now.

Nami managed to take a deep breath and compose herself. Yet, she cannot prevent a grin from appearing on her face as she asked. “Are you gonna tell us what’s up? And what’s with the outfits?”

Usopp and Sanji were laughing again, slapping their hands against the lawn deck and the banister respectively.

Franky walked past them on his way to the dock system. And he did a double take. A minute passed before he said, "Aw! Nice costume Zoro!" He gave him a thumbs up before disappearing down the hatch.

If looks could only kill, the cyborg will be dead on the spot… right after that comment.

Zoro’s lone eye narrowed at the two. “You two done now?” He looked unamused; arms folded over his chest as he waited for his idiot crew mates to calm down.

Which honestly looks like it’s gonna take some time.

“No, not yet!” Usopp was still cackling. “This is gold.” He was now sitting down the lawn deck, trying to catch his breath. “Haaah! I’m laughing so hard I think my stomach muscles are cramping.”

“What in the world made you wear that marimo?” Sanji was now heading down the stairs, shaking his head, the snide grin never leaving his face.

Zoro didn’t answer, instead he pinned the blond with the deadliest glare he could muster.

Which is definitely not working since what he was currently wearing undermines the intensity of the look he was giving the chef.

“I asked him to…” Chopper suddenly said in shy, little voice that had most of the Mugiwaras halting. Usopp choked in the middle of his laughter, ending in a coughing fit as he tried to get some air into his lungs.

The others exchanged glances. Everyone has a weak spot for the reindeer after all.

“Actually, me and Luffy kinda forced him.” Chopper admitted, looking up at Zoro who was still glaring at the cook.

Ah. Everyone had the same thought instantly. The reindeer and the captain, huh? The two persons on the ship that the swordsman can hardly ever say no to.

“Well,” Sanji squared his shoulder. “Good job choosing the costume then.”

An expletive escaped Zoro’s mouth.

The cook’s face lit up at that as he reached the deck, standing beside the still crouching Usopp. “Louder will ya?” He smirked. “Aren’t tigers supposed to be capable of growling loudly?”

“I will bite you in half shitty cook!”

“Whoa! I see we are really getting into character now. Whatever happened to using your katanas?”

“Temee…”

“Sanji-kun!” Nami suddenly stepped in front of Zoro with one hand pushing at the taller man’s face. “Stop riling the tiger up!”

“Grrr… you’re next witch!” Zoro scowled underneath her palm, before slapping it away with his own hand… or paw to be exact.

“I think we look awesome!” Luffy shouted excitedly. “Chopper and I really got lots of candies and goodies!” He showed them the pumpkin pails he was holding, overflowing with different treats.

“Yes!” Chopper’s eyes are brimming with delight. “And Zoro gave us his share as well!!!” He also showed them his goodies.

“Don’t need ‘em,” Zoro muttered curtly, still trying to swat Nami’s hand away.

“Oh?” Sanji leaned down to inspect their pails. “Looks like the tiger’s kind of a softie.”

Now that had Zoro roaring and lunging at the blond. “Come here shit cook!”

Nami thwarted his effort with a hand on his chest and the other scratching one fluffy ear of the costume’s hoodie.

“There, there tiger,” she cooed. “Calm down.”

“Stop it witch!” He glowered at her. But it turned to a smirk when Sanji whined a ‘Nami-san, pet me too!’.

“Aho…” he drawled and it was Sanji’s turn to get riled up.

“GET AWAY FROM NAMI-SAN YOU DUMBASS!!!”

Robin came out of the aquarium bar and approached the group. She had heard the commotion but refrained from leaving her location. She was engrossed with the book that she was reading and had used her hana hana no mi to find out what’s going on.

“Ara…” she said gaining everyone’s attention. “Did you three have fun?”

“Robin-chwaan!” Sanji was immediately distracted by his other female crewmate. “I hope we didn’t disturb you my lady.” He was instantly suave and gentlemanly and was kneeling down on knee, holding the older woman’s hand in his.

“Not at all,” she smiled. “How was your trip in the town?” She directed the question to the three costumed Mugiwaras. Not once did her calm, composed demeanor break… even at the sight of their intimidating swordsman donning on an animal jumpsuit.

“It was so much fun!” Chopper gushed showing her the pumpkin pails. “Look at all the candy I got Robin!”

“Me too! Me too!” Luffy flaunted his as well.

“Looks like it was an amazing trip then,” Robin smiled.

Luffy nodded. “Yep it was awesome! They have something going on there where. You knock on doors and say trick or treat!”

“Then they will give you candies! Lots and lots of candies!” Chopper explained giddily.

“But you have to be in a costume first! And Zoro said we can’t go knocking on houses dressed in the usual!” The rubberman added.

Behind them Zoro was rolling his eyes in exasperation.

“Pretty good call,” Brook suddenly appeared and sauntered towards them with a tea cup in hand, nodding at Zoro. “We are in a civilian territory and some might recognize your faces from the posters Luffy-san.”

“I’m surprised you don’t find this funny.” Usopp pointed at the three, raising an eyebrow at the skeleton.

“Ah I did… I already laughed my eyes out before I went here, yohohohoh! Even if I—”

“—don’t have eyes to see.” Usopp deadpanned with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Yeah, yeah.”

“That is not very nice Usopp-san!” Brook retorted when his skull joke was foiled.

“Hmmm…” Nami suddenly hummed. “I see… since Zoro is the delegated baby-sitter of you two for the night…hence the costume.” She smiled cheekily at him before scratching his tiger ear again and he gave her a sharp look.

Luffy nodded. “You said he should come with us! And I’m not gonna go back here empty-handed. Everyone is giving away treats and candies in town!” Then he frowned. “But there’s no meat though…”

Robin laughed softly. “Well, the island’s tradition is to give out sweets to those who are trick or treating. That’s why there are no meats or other foods.”

“Or beer.” Zoro complained as Nami flicked Zoro’s nose playfully.

He glared angrily at her.

“So who picked the animal costumes?” The navigator asked, curious why Zoro ended up looking like this.

“Us!!!” Luffy and Chopper raised their hands.

“I wanted to be the monkey!” Luffy pumped his hands into the air. “Because…”

“Monkey D. Luffy?” Sanji cut in, blowing a stream of smoke nonchalantly.

“Right!”

“Figures.”

“And Chopper-san’s supposed to be a…?” Brook queried.

“Tanuki,” Zoro answered, his lone grey eye still looking daggers on Nami.

“Isn’t that a bit redundant?” Usopp raised an eyebrow at Chopper.

“It’s not a raccoon-dog! It’s a raccoon Zoro!” The doctor corrected him.

“Right. Sorry.”

“So you’re a….” the sniper prompted. He still cannot make up his mind between raccoon, raccoon-dog or a reindeer in a reindeer costume.

“Raccoon! This costume is a raccoon!”

“Honestly, I’m confused,” the sharpshooter admitted, blinking at the others doubtfully.

“Usopp you asshole!” Chopper screamed in indignation.

“Hahaha! Just kidding,” Usopp backtracked. “Of course the great god Usopp knows what you are already!”

“Which is?” Nami queried, looking at him unconvincingly.

Usopp coughed and ignored her. “And how did Zoro ended up as a tiger?”

“It was the only available one,” the swordsman grunted.

“Why didn’t you just covered him with anything green and let him come as his marimo self?” Sanji inquired, that shit-eating grin he has on his face never waning.

“I will kill you aho cook.”

“Oh!” Sanji trembled mockingly. “Whatcha gonna do hit me with your paw?”

They were about to lunge at each other when Nami raised both of her hands to stop them.

“That is enough!” Nami then stood on tiptoes and reached out to pinched ears of the tiger costume. “Let’s all just agree that as much as it is funny, they look absolutely cute.

Sanji looked shocked and whimpered, “Nami-san!”

“I am not cute woman! Get off!” Zoro groused as he tried to pull Nami’s hands away. It required some effort to be honest as the jumpsuit he was wearing ended up with paws for the hands.

Robin let out a soft giggle. “For what it’s worth… I honestly think it is cute Zoro.” She offered her two cent’s worth, her smile ever polite. “And sweet,” she added as well as her gaze hovered over Chopper and Luffy affectionately, knowing that the swordsman did it for the two.

“It is,” Nami agreed, breaking into a grin. “Especially that drawn nose and whiskers.” She tapped Zoro’s nose and it had him growling at her. This time she laughed… out loud. He’s kinda getting into that tiger persona quite effortlessly.

Though she maybe laughing at green-haired man’s expense yet that doesn’t mean she didn’t find his current look… enticing. And yes, cute.

Absolutely cute.

She could just eat him right here. Right now.

Zoro snorted even as his face turned red at their comments. Chopper then explained that the store owner where they got the costumes from had offered to draw on Luffy and Zoro’s faces.

“It is cute, ne Robin?” Luffy aimed the question at the older woman, smiling brightly.

Robin’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. “It is senchou.”  

“Hey! Why don’t we all go and trick or treat some more?” Luffy suggested. “I’m pretty sure there are houses we still haven’t visited…”

“Yes!” Chopper pumped his hooves up in the air. “More candies!”

“Sanji you should go with us as well! We’ll find you a costume like what we have!” Luffy grabbed the cook’s hands much to his chagrin.

“What? NO!”

“Good maybe there’s an ero-kappa costume where we got this. That’ll suit him.” Zoro suggested, smirking at the thought that the stupid chef will end up in a stupid costume just like him.

If it wasn’t for Luffy and Chopper… this would not have taken place. Damn it!

“You asshole!” Sanji shouted as the same notion dawned into him.

“I’m done.” Zoro then announced with a huff. “It’s your turn to babysit them now. I’m gonna go nap. Chopper, you can drag Usopp as well this time for another round of trick or treating.”

“Alright.” The reindeer beamed at him. “Zoro thank you for tonight!”

That pulled the corner of the grumpy tiger’s lips up before he headed towards the sleeping quarters.

“Not another word witch.” He muttered as he passed by a still grinning Nami.

“I didn’t say anything,” Nami retorted as she watched him head towards the men’s room.

“So,” Robin caught everyone’s attention at that. “Shall we head back to town, get some costumes and enjoy some trick or treating ourselves?”

A chorus of yes answered her.

-------------------------

A soft knock on the door woke Zoro up.

He opened his eye at the sound. The men’s quarter was dark and the ship silent. 

The others are still probably trick or treating in the island.

Sitting up he realized that must’ve fallen asleep on the sofa in the middle of the room instead of his bunk bed.

Another knock sounded. And he sleepily stood up, groaning when he realized he still hadn’t gotten out of the stupid tiger costume he was wearing.

Running a paw over his head (in an attempt to run his fingers through his hair) he approached the door and opened it.

He was met with a Cheshire cat-like smile on a cat burglar’s face—who was wearing a sexy, black cat costume.

A far cry from the conservative jumpsuit he and the others had on.

She was clad in a one piece black suit so tight it was hugging her curves. The front was zip only halfway up, displaying her ample cleavage. Black stockings and heels made up the lower part of her attire and cute cat ears headband completed her feline ensemble.

Trust Nami to find some way to don a costume that’ll flaunt all her generous assets.

"Trick or treat?"

She inquired as she smirked at him.

"Tch!"

And she chortled as his reaction, plus at the fact that he still hadn’t taken his tiger costume off. She took a step inside, her black high heels made a clicking sound against the wooden floor, the tail of her one piece suit swaying at her movement in time with her orange curls.

"So trick or treat?" She repeated when Zoro didn’t make another sound and instead was scrutinizing her up and down.

Zoro snorted as he followed her. Her hand reached out and grabbed the front of his jumpsuit, pulling him closer to her. Licking her thumb, she reached out to try to erase the drawn tiger’s nose on his own, as well as the whiskers on his face.

“None,” he finally answered as she rubbed her finger on his face.

Nami laughed. What a grouch. She stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. His arms automatically encircled her waist.

“Wrong answer,” she whispered cattily.

“I don’t have any treats here. Luffy and Chopper has them.”

“Wrong again,” she kissed him on the jaw, tugging back the hood of his costume so she can ran her fingers through his hair.

His lips quirked up as she placed light, nipping kisses on his lips… her teasing smile never leaving her face.

She tugged at the front zipper of his costume down and watched fascinated as the toned muscles underneath it were slowly exposed. 

"See Zoro…” she said, savoring the sight before as her eyes and hands trailed down his body. She pushed the garment off his shoulders. “Here’s my treat." She declared licking her lips naughtily.

[xfilescat]

a river in egypt (steve harrington x female!reader)

word count: around 5k

warnings: language as per usual, it gets a bit saucy sometimes, & of course there’s a little angst because I apparently can’t write a story without it :,)

preview: “You may be at each other’s throats most of the time, but if there’s one thing you both always agree on, it’s that you definitely do not have feelings for each other. The kids, however, are deadset in their belief that you’re meant to be together, and Max once posited that maybe that’s why you’re constantly arguing—it’s your way of dealing with all of the “sexual tension” between you two (her words exactly). That theory threw you for a loop for a few days, but you’re positive it’s not true. Right?”

A/N: omg this bitch (me) finally posted something! it’s only been, what, seven years? i’m terribly sorry. ANYways, this is based on an idea from @32bees who is super nice btw! i kinda took their request and ran wayyy too far with it, but it’s fine. also i literally just made up the layout of Steve’s house (and ignored major plot points/character traits) as i wrote so just pretend it’s right. also btw spoons is a real game and it’s the SHIT! definitely recommend. also i totally ripped off scenes from an episode of new girl and from an episode of friends so if you catch that, don’t judge me! i just love those shows so much! anyway i hope u enjoy, friends! love you all <3

If someone had told you a few months ago—before you’d been clued in to the whole Upside Down fiasco—that you’d be spending most of your senior year with a bunch of middle schoolers and Steve Harrington, you’d have laughed in their face. Well, maybe not so much about the middle schoolers part, because you babysit all the time and you love kids. But the Steve part? No way, you would’ve said. That’s crazy—you’d never even talked to the guy before. Yet here you are, standing on his porch waiting for him to come to the door, a plate of cookies in your hands and a smile on your face. You absolutely love nights like this.

The door flies open a moment after you knock, but it’s not Steve who opens it. Dustin grins at you before turning to the living room. “Y/N’s here,” he shouts before he looks back at you—more specifically, at what you’re holding. “Ooh, cookies! Let me help you with those,” Dustin says, grabbing the plate and dashing back inside. You chuckle, following him into the house and closing the door behind you. “I feel like you guys only invite me to these things ’cause I always bring food,” you call out, taking off your shoes and coat and placing them in the hall closet.

All you hear in response is incoherent yelling. You smile to yourself. Everyone must be involved in some kind of contentious board game. The last time you were here, you guys spent ten minutes crawling around the room searching for a missing chess piece because a disgruntled Lucas had flipped the board after a devastating loss to Max. These people take their games seriously, not unlike yourself.

You round the corner into the living room. Not a lot of things surprise you anymore, but you’re definitely confused when you see everybody sitting in a circle on the floor, playing cards in their hands and a pile of spoons in front of them. They’re all eating your cookies, too. You cross the room and take a seat between Will and El. “Hi guys. If you don’t mind my asking, what the heck are you doing?”

Everyone greets you with a smile, and El turns to you. “Playing spoons!”

“What’s spoons?”

“Dustin taught us.”

You look to Dustin for further explanation. He sets his cards down with a sigh. “Okay, this is like my third time going over this because somebody—,” he pauses to glare at Lucas, “—doesn’t know how to listen. Basically, everyone gets four cards to start. The goal of the game is to get four of a kind. The dealer—which is me—takes one card from the deck and passes it around. If you need that card, you keep it and get rid of another card, ’cause you can only have four in your hand at a time. Whoever gets all their cards first gets to take a spoon, and once that person takes one, everyone else can too. There are enough spoons for every player but one. If you’re the only player left without a spoon, you’re out.”

You nod slowly. “Got it. Why spoons, though?”

Mike, who’s sitting between Dustin and El, shrugs. “Why not spoons?”

“Touché. Alright, deal me in, Dusty. And get ready to lose.”

Dustin shakes his head. “I was just about to say the same thing to you.”

You smirk playfully. “Oh, you think you can beat me?”

“No, I know I can’t, but Steve’s won every round we’ve played so far. He’s, like, a spoons prodigy. Undefeatable.”

You level your gaze at Steve, who’s directly across from you and grinning smugly. “Not for long, he’s not.”

Steve raises his eyebrows. “Okay, Y/L/N, show us what you’ve got.”

“I intend to, Harrington.”

For some unknown reason, Steve brings out a furiously competitive side of you. You ponder this as Dustin reshuffles the deck and starts handing out cards. Whether it’s playing board games, giving the kids advice, or leading expeditions into other dimensions, you’re always trying to one-up Steve and he seems to be just as ambitious to win as you are. Further, the two of you are always disagreeing on things, and those disagreements are heightened by your competitive natures—neither of you ever want to admit you’re wrong. You once argued for a good five minutes about whether cats were better than dogs, and you would’ve kept going all night if Max hadn’t shouted at you both to shut up.

Of course, all of this arguing is in good fun. Steve’s become your closest friend and confidant over the past few months and you don’t know what you’d do without him. You’d never have thought that the infamous King Steve would actually be extremely kind, caring, and protective—especially of you and the kids. You love him (as a friend, obviously), but something about him just… you don’t know. He just gets you so fired up sometimes.

The game begins, and it’s not long before you get the hang of it. In fact, you’ve managed to make it to the semi-finals: it’s just you, Steve, and Will left in the circle. You’re going for sevens, you’ve decided. You’ve currently got three out of four and you’re pretty sure you’ve got this in the bag. Will passes you a card face-down and you try to maintain your poker face when you see that it’s the last seven. Nonchalantly passing an unnecessary five off to Steve, you surreptitiously reach for one of the two spoons in front of you.

Steve catches you and quickly grabs the other one. Will’s still staring at his cards, but he looks up when he hears you and Steve cheering. “Oh, man,” he groans, dropping his cards and standing up to join the rest of the Party, who are devouring the rest of your cookies on the couch. “Better luck next time, buddy,” you say as you place your spoon back into the center.

Steve stares you down as he collects all the cards and shuffles the deck. “Ready to lose?”

You laugh. “You wish. Deal.”

He smiles at you brightly before he complies, and you’re not sure why you feel your face heat up. It’s not like you to get flustered, especially not around Steve. You may be at each other’s throats most of the time, but if there’s one thing you both always agree on, it’s that you definitely do not have feelings for each other. The kids, however, are deadset in their belief that you’re meant to be together, and Max once posited that maybe that’s why you’re constantly arguing—it’s your way of dealing with all of the “sexual tension” between you two (her words exactly). That theory threw you for a loop for a few days, but you’re positive it’s not true. Right? You quickly look down at your cards and pretend to be very invested in them. Steve notices.

“What, are you nervous, Y/N?” He sounds cocky, and you roll your eyes.

“No. Not at all. Let’s go.”

The Party has moved from the couch back to the circle, eager to watch the final round. They seem to have chosen sides: Dustin, Lucas, and Max are cheering for Steve and Will, Mike, and El are rooting for you. Dustin is by far the most enthusiastic.

“C’mon, Steve! Kick her ass!”

“Henderson, I’m trying to concentrate.”

“Right. Sorry.”

You and Steve play for a little while, exchanging trash talk that makes the kids laugh like crazy. This time, you’re going for kings. You’ve only got two, and you’re starting to get worried. “Maybe you should go for something else,” Mike whispers. You shake your head, staring daggers at the cards in front of you. “I know what I’m doing.”

“You sure about that?”

You snap your head up at the sound of Steve’s question, fearing the worst. You shriek when you see him holding the spoon. “NO! No! No way! You’ve got to be kidding me!”

He passes you his cards with a smirk. He’s got four queens. “Sorry, sweetheart. Like Dustin said: undefeatable.”

You throw all of the cards down in anguish and the kids erupt into cheers, chanting Steve’s name. Even your own fan club has joined in. So much for them being on your side. “Fuck you, Harrington,” you groan, standing up and throwing yourself onto the couch. Steve feigns shock. “Language, Y/N! Such a sore loser.”

“Shut the hell up. That wasn’t even a real game! I guarantee Dustin just made it up.”

Dustin narrows his eyes. “Did not! My mom taught me!”

“Whatever! All I’m saying is that I’m still better than Steve at everything else in the world—especially babysitting you assholes.”

The kids’ jaws drop at your boldness and Steve’s definitely shocked for real this time, but he instantly regains his composure. “Really, Y/N? You think so?”

“Oh, I know so.”

Max bursts out laughing. You turn to her. “What’s so funny? You don’t believe me?”

She shakes her head. “Nope. It’s Steve for sure.” Lucas and Dustin nod their agreement, and Steve flashes you another one of those infuriatingly arrogant grins. Well, you think with a frown, this isn’t exactly going your way. You sit up and cross your arms. “Guys, c’mon! I’ve been babysitting half of you since you were in elementary school. Steve’s only been doing it for, like, three months.”

“She’s got a point, guys,” Will says, and Mike nods. El follows suit. Looks like you’ve got your fan club back.

The others stand their ground, shrugging off your argument. “Don’t you remember him with that bat? You know, while you were off hiding in the back of the bus? He was amazing,” Lucas says.

You scoff. “That wasn’t babysitting.”

Dustin furrows his eyebrows. “Then what was it?”

“Stupidity. He could’ve died, and then who would’ve been there to save your asses? Me, of course.”

Max chuckles. “Oh, right, because you crying in the corner was very badass!”

“I wasn’t crying!” Okay, maybe you were, but it was a tough day, alright?

“Alright, that’s enough. Leave Y/N alone.” Steve says sternly. You’re pleasantly surprised that he’s coming to your rescue. “Hey, thanks,” you say with a smile. He grins back, sitting down next to you and glaring at the kids. “Now, I don’t want to hear another word about me being the better babysitter.” He throws his arm around your shoulder and lowers his voice to a stage-whisper. “We all know it’s true, but I don’t want her to cry again.”

You shove him off of you and leap to your feet. “That’s it! God, I hate you all. Not you guys,” you say, pointing to your little team of Will, Mike, and El, “but especially you, Steve.” He’s still too busy laughing at his own joke to respond, which makes you even angrier. This is all his fault. If he hadn’t thrown you off your game with that annoyingly perfect smile, you would’ve won the round of spoons and you wouldn’t be in this mess. Why is he suddenly doing this to you? Why are you losing all your senses around him while he remains totally composed? Why can’t you stop picturing that fucking smile? You hate this.

Dustin perks up. “Oh my god, I just got the best idea! I know how we can settle this!”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “How?”

“A contest! A babysitting contest!”

You tilt your head to the side, amused. “How would that even work?”

“Alright, hear me out: we’ll set up a bunch of events based on all of the classic babysitting skills: cooking, entertaining, putting the kids to bed, all that kinda stuff. Whoever wins the most events is the best babysitter!”

The kids all voice their support for this idea, and you and Steve exchange a look. “I’m in if you are,” he says. “I’m always down for a chance to wipe that smile off your face,” you retort. He breathes a laugh, shaking his head. “Okay, Dustin,” he says as he stands up next to you. “You’ve got us.”

The kids huddle up for a moment, whispering back and forth. After a minute, Dustin steps away and claps his hands together. “Great! First event: keeping the kids out of harm’s way. Go!”

You freeze. “What?”

“I call playing with matches,” Max shouts, heading towards the kitchen.

“Yeah, and I’ll run with scissors,” calls Will, following her.

“We’ll go run by the edge of the pool,” Mike says, sprinting to the back door with El in tow.

“And Dustin and I will raid Steve’s parents’ wine cabinet,” Lucas states triumphantly.

“THIS IS NOT WHAT WE AGREED TO,” you scream, running into the kitchen and yanking the offending items out of the kids’ hands. Steve apprehends Mike and El before they make it outside, and he shuts down Dustin and Lucas with just one look. “Not fuckin’ cool, you dickheads,” he says when you all return to the living room. You nod, breathing heavily. All that adrenaline has made the room feel much hotter, so you unzip your hoodie and throw it over the back of the couch. You’re tying your hair up into a high ponytail when Dustin says, “I think that round goes to Steve.”

You open your mouth to argue, but when you see the look on Steve’s face, you’re rendered speechless. It’s every bit as smug as it usually is, but there’s something more there, too. Something different. Something intense. He’s never looked at you this way before. You feel yourself blush furiously. What the hell is going on? You quickly cross your arms over your chest and jump back into the conversation. “Okay, Dustin. What’s the next round?”

The rest of the competition is a lot less harrowing, but you’re still reeling over the way Steve looked at you. Does he… no, hell no. There’s no way he likes you. I mean, any teenage guy would check out a teenage girl like that. It doesn’t mean anything. And any teenage girl would blush if a teenage guy checked her out like that, so that doesn’t mean anything, either. Neither of you like each other, nothing means anything, and everything is completely normal. Riiight?

To distract yourself from your inner turmoil, you decide to throw yourself into the contest with everything you have. You crushed Steve in the cooking round, which consisted of the two of you trying to make the best meal out of whatever you could find in Steve’s pantry. You lost to him, however, during the entertainment event. You just couldn’t match the way he could so effortlessly make the kids laugh—primarily by teasing you. This pattern continued: you won at one thing, he won at the next. The two of you were taking a water break in the kitchen when the kids called you out into the living room.

“Competitors, this is the final round. Score’s tied, so bring your A-game,” Lucas announces. “Are you guys ready?”

“I was born ready,” Steve says. You nod, tightening your ponytail.

Max clears her throat. “You’ll notice that Dustin is missing from the room.”

Steve grins. “That explains why it was so quiet all of a sudden.” There’s a muffled “Hey!” from somewhere in the house, and you giggle.

“Your goal is to find him before the other babysitter does. Ready… set… go!”

You two take off running and end up racing each other up the stairs. You make it to the top first and you’re halfway down the hallway when Steve grabs your arm, pulls you behind him, and sprints on ahead of you. You stomp your foot. “Cheater!” He’s already searching his bedroom, and you know Dustin wouldn’t have hidden in the guestroom or Steve’s parents’ room, so you eliminate those. You’re just about to check the bathroom when Steve runs in first, cutting you off again. You throw your hands up in frustration. “Oh my god! Stop doing that!”

He looks back at you and smirks. “Sorry. I don’t know about you, Y/L/N, but I’m playing to win.” You roll your eyes and opt for heading back to the first floor. You do a quick scan of the front hall before your eyes land on the closet. That's it! You can see light spilling out from the bottom of the door and you chuckle. Rookie mistake, Dustin. You dash over and throw the door open. Sure enough, he’s there, and you jump up and down in excitement. “Hell yes! I win! Fuck yeah!”

The rest of the Party runs into the room and Steve appears at the top of the stairs. When he sees you celebrating, he groans. “Shit! C’mon, Henderson, why’d you go for the most obvious spot?”

Dustin steps out with a mischievous smirk. “Because we knew at least one of you would fall for it.”

You narrow your eyes. “Fall for wh—”

You’re interrupted by Dustin pushing you into the closet and immediately slamming the door. Stunned, you trip backward over a pair of shoes and land ungracefully on the floor. “What the HELL?” You stand up and grab the handle, but it won’t turn. You bang on the door. “Dustin, let me out! This really isn’t funny!” You can tell your voice sounds panicked. You start to feel like you can’t breathe. You’re not so good with being alone in confined spaces. You hear Steve make his way down the stairs and across the foyer.

“Hey, let her out, man. I’m serious.” There’s that protective side of him, the one you never knew he had. It stirs up that flustered feeling in you again and you try to brush it off. You hear Dustin sigh defeatedly. “Alright, alright.” You breathe out in relief when the door opens up. However, instead of letting you climb out, Dustin pushes Steve in with you. Steve trips over the shoes just like you did before, landing at your feet with a thud. You look at each other in shock as the door shuts once more. This time, you hear someone slide something underneath the handle—probably a chair.

You give Steve your hand, pulling him upright. The two of you start pounding on the door. “You shitheads better let us out of here,” he yells.

“Stop knocking,” shouts Max.

You continue hitting the door. “No! Not until you tell us what the HELL is going on!”

“We would if you’d be quiet!”

“Oh.” You both stop.

“Okay, so you’re probably wondering why we’ve locked you in there,” Dustin calls.

Steve rolls his eyes. “No shit.”

“Well,” Max continues, “we lied when we told you that finding Dustin was the final round. This is the real final round.”

You scoff. “What, you want us to fight to the death in here or something?”

Lucas laughs. “The opposite, actually.”

You hear a slapping sound. “Stick to the script, you idiot!” It’s Mike speaking this time. “This last event is about not giving in. Babysitters can’t give in because then, kids would get away with anything they wanted.”

“Whoever gives in to their feelings first loses,” Dustin says proudly.

Fuck. You should’ve known they’d pull some stunt like this. Remember the time they told you and Steve they wanted to go out to dinner as a big group and then none of them showed up, leaving you and Steve alone on what was technically a date? Yeah. This isn’t surprising. “Oh my god,” you shout. “How many times do we have to tell you that we don’t have feelings for each other?”

“’Til you can say it honestly,” Max responds.

“I’m honestly going to kick all of your asses,” Steve yells.

“You’re in a river in Egypt, Steve,” Dustin says.

“What?”

“You’re in DENIAL!”

The kids burst into hysterics and you two groan. You try to appeal to their better nature one last time. “Please, guys. Please open the door.” Your voice is small and desperate and you can feel Steve’s eyes on you. The lights go out, and you inhale sharply. “Not falling for it, Y/L/N. Good luck,” Max chirps. You hear the group walk away, and after a moment the radio in the living room turns on.

You turn around so your back is against the door and slowly sink to the ground. “Hey, you okay?” Steve sounds concerned. You nod before remembering he can’t see you. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just really don’t like being closed in like this,” you say with a quick laugh. He sighs, sitting down next to you. “Those kids… they’re gonna be the death of me. They should’ve let you out.”

“S’okay, they didn’t know any better. This is probably a flawless plan in their minds.”

He chuckles. “Are you sure you’re alright? Because I’ll break the door down if you want me to.”

You smile. “Not necessary. I’ll be okay. It’s easier with you here.”

He wraps his arm around you and pulls you close. He’s done stuff like that a million times since you two became friends because he’s naturally very touchy-feely, but this time, you feel butterflies in your stomach and your pulse starts racing. It’s unsettling. You decide to go back to teasing him in hopes that it’ll make things feel like normal again. “But honestly, I’d like to see you try to break down the door. Bet I could do it before you.”

He laughs. “You’re cute when you’re competitive.”

That catches you off guard. So much for returning to normalcy. “What?”

“You heard me.”

You blink. “I thought—I thought you said you didn’t have feelings for me.”

“Oh, I don’t. That’s just a fact.”

Your eyes have adjusted enough to the dark that you can sort of see him, so you look him dead in the eye. “Oh yeah? Well you’re insufferable when you’re competitive.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Insufferable, huh?” He leans back with a smirk like you just payed him a compliment.

“Yes! And that’s not a good thing, you dick! You make me so fucking mad. And I hate it when you smile at me like that when we’re arguing.”

“Like what? Like this?” He grins at you just like he did before the card game and your heart beats faster. You hope he can’t hear it.

“Ugh, yes! Stop it! I hate that!”

“Well, if I have to stop that, you have to stop getting all nervous and blush-y around me, ’cause I hate that.”

“That never happens,” you lie, feeling your face heat up.

“It’s literally happening right now.”

“Jesus, do you have superhuman vision or something? How the hell can you see that well in the dark?”

“Actually, it was just a guess, but now I know it’s true.”

You laugh in spite of yourself. “Fuck you.”

He pulls you closer. “You can if you want to.” You know he’s joking, but there’s an alarming hint of seriousness in his tone. You freak out.

“God, no! Stop it! You’re falling into the kids’ trap. They want us to live out one of those cliché movie scenes where the guy and the girl start making out in the middle of an argument.”

“Okay, okay. You’re right. Let’s just stop talking, then.”

“Wonderful idea.”

You’re grateful for the quiet. That conversation was giving you whiplash. You’ve spent so much time and energy trying to convince yourself that Steve doesn’t like you like that, and then all of a sudden, he comes right out and tells you that he does. And then he takes it back one second later. And then he invites you to fuck him, only half joking. It’s like a freakin’ roller coaster ride.

“I wouldn’t want to kiss you that way,” he says after a few minutes, breaking the silence.

“Wait, what? Wh-who said anything about kissing?”

“Um, you did, remember? When you were talking about the cliché movie scenes?”

“Oh. Right. Well, I don’t want to kiss you at all.”

He scoffs. “I don’t believe you. I know you like me, too.”

“Too?”

He sighs heavily. “Yes, I really do like you, okay? Can we both stop pretending now?”

“I’m not pretending,” you say as definitively as you can manage, looking away.

“Y/N,” he says gently, pulling you toward his chest. You push him away, stand up, and start knocking on the door. This is getting a little overwhelming, and you kinda feel like the walls are closing in. “Let us out, you jerks!”

Steve sighs. “They’re not gonna let us out.”

You ignore him. “Open the fucking door!”

“Y/N.”

You grow more and more frantic. “C’mon, guys, please!”

“Y/N!” He stands up and grabs your shoulders, spinning you away from the door. “Please stop it. Just talk to me.”

You look down. “I have to get out of here,” you say, your voice hoarse from yelling.

“Why won’t you admit you like me?”

You don’t answer.

“You can tell me anything, and you know that. So why are you lying?”

You finally meet his gaze. “Because what if it doesn’t work out?”

Damn. There it is. It’s definitely as surprising a response to you as it is to him. Oh my god, that’s why you’ve been denying your feelings for so long, that’s why you’ve been using arguing and competing with him as defense mechanisms, that’s why you feel like you can’t catch your breath right now. You’re scared.

Steve looks incredulous. “Why—why wouldn’t it work out?”

You sit back down and hug your knees to your chest. “Well, aside from the fact that we both know life likes to throw us major, earth-shattering curve balls,” you say with a humorless chuckle, “have you ever been in a relationship that didn’t crash and burn?”

He sits next to you, his shoulder touching yours. “No, but—”

“Exactly.”

Steve’s just about to respond when there’s a commotion outside and the door flies open. You both fall onto your backs on the hardwood. You look up and see the Party staring down at you.

“Shit, sorry! Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Dustin says with a suggestive wink.

“You’re not interrupting anything,” you reply as you climb to your feet and breeze past the kids into the living room. You can tell everyone’s staring at you. You grab your hoodie and hurriedly put it on.

“What’s with her?” You hear Max ask Steve quietly.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe she just got locked in a closet against her will! Anybody wanna tell me who’s bright idea that was?”

Everybody says a different name, and Steve sighs. You walk back across the foyer and pull open the front door.

“Are you leaving?” Dustin sounds confused.

“Just need some fresh air.”

“You forgot your shoes,” Lucas points out.

“I’m fine,” you say flatly, locking eyes with Steve before shutting the door a little harder than necessary. Hopefully he’ll take the hint and won’t do that thing where he follows you and tries to make you feel better. That’s a classic Steve move. You don’t need him, you tell yourself. Like you said: you’re fine.

Obviously you’re not really fine, though. Everything's pretty much falling to pieces, and all you want is to be able to erase everything that just happened. Also, you probably should’ve grabbed your shoes and coat because it’s still early March and there’s snow on the ground, but you don’t care. The cold is a welcome distraction from the realization that Steve likes you and he knows you like him. This is so not how you expected this night to go.

You hear the front door open and slam shut behind you. You jump half a foot in the air and whirl around. Steve’s standing there with his arms crossed indignantly. “What the hell, Harrington? You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“You know, you’re kind of an idiot,” he says sharply.

You put your hands on your hips. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah, you’re being stupid right now. So what if we’ve never been in relationships that lasted before? You’re missing the whole damn point. It’s so obvious.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Don’t you get it? It’s only gotta last once. One time. Maybe nothing’s ever worked out before because it wasn’t supposed to, because maybe you and me are supposed to.”

For the second time tonight, he leaves you speechless for a moment. “You really feel that way?”

“I have for a long time,” he says, his voice softer now.

You meet his eyes and there’s nothing but sincerity there. You’re not sure how to respond, so you just say what comes to mind first. “You’re my best friend.”

“You’re my best friend, too.”

“I don’t wanna lose you.”

He closes the distance between you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You’re not losing a best friend, you’re gaining a boyfriend.”

You laugh. “You sure you wanna do this?”

“I’m in if you are.”

“Alright, Steve. You wore me down.”

He smiles that goddamn smile again, the one that breaks down all of your walls. You narrow your eyes. “Did we not just talk about that smile? You’ve gotta stop.”

“I’ll think about it. By the way, can I kiss you now, or would it still be too cliché?”

You instantly blush, and he rolls his eyes. “Oh my god, never mind. If you’re gonna do that every time, this definitely isn’t going to work out. I’m gonna lose my mind.”

“Shut up,” you breathe as you lean in and press your lips to his.

Kissing him is nothing like you would’ve thought it would be. With all the buildup, all the flirtatious arguing and teasing, you expected fiery passion and urgency. However, he kisses you softly, sweetly, and slowly, like he’s got all the time in the world to do it. Your hands tangle in his hair and he gently pulls you up against him, deepening the kiss. It feels so incredibly right that you forget why you ever tried to resist him. Maybe the kids weren’t too far off when they said you were meant to be together.

After a little while, he pulls away. “I’m telling the kids you gave in first.”

Before you can tell him to fuck off, his lips are back on yours and you forget everything again. You can’t feel the ice under your socks or the wintry air on your skin anymore. This kiss is different. It’s intense. It’s hot enough to dry up a river in Egypt. He’s definitely a better kisser than you are, no contest. You’re never ever gonna admit that to him, though. No way.