Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | Day 09: Green | WC: 811 | Rated: M | Warnings: Language | Tags: Established relationship; Eddie is horny for his boyfriend; Steve Harrington in questionable outfits; Humor; Steve Harrington has a great ass.
This is so fucking humiliating.
It’s the last time Steve promises Robin anything in his life. Next time she comes asking for his help, giving him those stupid puppy eyes, he’s gonna tell her to get lost and find some other idiot to do stupid shit with her, because Steve’s already done enough stupid shit to last him a lifetime.
“Stop sulking, Dingus, or they’re not gonna pay us,” Robin says through gritted teeth and a fake smile.
“If they don’t pay us, you’re gonna owe me for the rest of your life,” Steve hisses back, opening his own fake smile as a little girl toddles towards them. “I’ll expect nothing less than your firstborn, Buckley.”
And even then, there’s no guarantee that will be enough to pay for all the embarrassment Steve’s been putting up with for the past two weeks.
But they don’t have time to discuss Robin’s life debt right now. The little girl reaches them, her family following close behind, and both Steve and Robin greet them as warmly as they can, despite the bitter taste in their mouths.
“Merry Christmas, sweet girl,” Steve says, bending down to get to the girl’s level as he offers her a gloved hand. “I’m Elf Steve, this is Elf Robin. Are you excited to meet Santa?”
“Yes!” The girl yells, throwing her tiny hands up in excitement before reaching for Steve’s hand.
Her pigtails bounce as she follows Steve to the massive armchair where Santa awaits, her green eyes sparkling in wonder as she takes in all the Christmas decorations surrounding them. Her family and Robin are right behind them.
Steve’s fake smile softens, turns into an honest one. Humiliating elf outfit or not, seeing the amazement reflected in these little kids’ eyes always leaves him in a good mood, kinda makes some of his embarrassment worth it.
Not that Steve’s ever going to tell Robin that.
-
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After Scoops Ahoy, Steve’s more than used to wearing stupid work outfits, so he doesn’t even bother changing out of his elf costume before going home after his shift ends. He just puts on his coat, wraps a scarf around his neck and drives home just like that.
He does get some weird looks when he needs to stop at a red light, but at this point Steve just stares right back, as if daring the other drivers to say anything to his face.
They never do.
At home, Steve’s greeted by the amazing, toasty warmth from the radiator and the delicious smell of spices coming from the kitchen.
“I’m home!” he calls as he loosens the scarf and hangs it on the hook behind the front door.
Doesn’t take long for Eddie to pop his head through the kitchen doorway. “Look who it is,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. “Santa’s sexiest helper.”
Steve’s nose wrinkles immediately, his eyes following Eddie as his boyfriend makes his way towards him.
“Do you really need to make it sound like that? Gross.”
“What? But it’s true.”
His innocent grin doesn’t fool Steve for a second, but Steve lets himself be pulled into a loving embrace anyways because he’s missed his boyfriend like crazy today, and because Eddie’s hugs are the best and currently figure third in his top five favorite things in the whole world, only losing to his boyfriend’s kisses and his insanely good rim jobs.
“Come on, baby, have you seen how amazing your ass looks in these green tights?” Eddie whispers in Steve’s ear, hand slowly travelling down his back until it reaches said ass. He squeezes it hard, and Steve trembles in his arms. “It’s indecent, if you ask me. You spend hours on end in public, walking around that place looking like this. I bet you drive those housewives crazy with envy, or with horniness, whatever.”
Judging by the way Eddie fails to hide the little strain of jealousy from his voice, it might be best if Steve never tells him about the old lady that actually pinched his ass today.
“You’re the worst,” Steve groans, hiding his face in Eddie’s neck and almost melting when he feels the soft kiss on his hair.
“Maybe. But you loooove me.”
“I really do.”
They stay like that for a moment longer, just taking comfort in each other’s presence, before reluctantly parting.
“Come on, go take off your sexy elf outfit and put on some comfortable clothes. I made curry for us.”
“It’s not a sexy elf outfit! Stop making it weird.”
“It is a sexy elf outfit if you’re the one wearing it, babe.”
The compliment turns Steve’s cheeks a light shade of pink, but he rolls his eyes in fake exasperation just to soften the blow to his reputation.
He fails.
After a quick kiss, Steve goes change and Eddie returns to the kitchen to plate their food.
pairings: giyuu tomioka x gn!reader
summary: giyuu tomioka is like the tides, always leaving and always returning back to you, sometimes he came back even closer than the last.
tags: sweet ol' fluff
For all Giyuu has learned, he never thought he’d be rethinking his beliefs. Being a Hashira comes with heavy burden. A responsibility he would welcome with reluctance but also with great devotion. His life had brought nothing but pain and suffering, everyone he’s ever loved torn from him. He was always certain that he was safest alone—and that others were safer without binding themselves to him. It’s why he kept so distant from the other Hashira, why he refused to idle with the younger ranks or even entertain anyone’s small talk.
Despite all his conviction, Giyuu Tomioka has a soft heart. It’s his soft heart that has made him falter so many times. When he listened to Tanjiro’s pleas, guided him and his sister to Urokodaki, continued to protect the siblings throughout their journey, and lastly, his soft heart is what made him give in to you.
You, a civilian he met through a particularly harrowing mission. After fighting off so many demons, he wasn’t fit to make his way back and you with your kind eyes, furrowed brows, and general sweet disposition had melted him even if only slightly. He let himself be taken care of, stayed in your home for the night, and by morning he was hesitant to leave. It’s all history now. No one else in the Demon Slayer Corps knew how you did it, but within weeks of him returning from that mission, you appeared. Suddenly it was all the more clearer why he’d been writing so fervently in those days.
Even more scandalous, he let you into his home, something he kept the others from doing in order to keep a touch of distance between him and everyone else. A safety precaution for his own mind, so that their losses didn’t feel so familiar. His frame of thought was clear to you from early on in living with Giyuu. You began as more of a caretaker or a roommate, it was not inherently romantic–-though Shinobu would contest that statement, having witnessed the way he looked for you when you weren’t home.
One might find him restricting, he gave you rules and lectured you whenever you walked around the headquarters without him. One of his conditions for letting you into his home was that you were to stay firmly out of danger, he even argued with Ubayashiki about keeping you from enlisting. He wouldn’t have you fight—he was firm on that. He was even reluctant to let you out of his sight to work in the butterfly mansion for Shinobu and her girls, citing the unpredictability of injured members being too much risk for you.
You didn’t mind however. You understood his caution—anyone could see the vacancy in his expression, and if staying home would relax his never-ending stream of thoughts, you would do it. It wasn’t like he was isolating you. The others were allowed to keep you company in his absence—and if he wasn’t there he at least was relaxed knowing who was with you when you did roam the headquarters. Shinobu enjoyed spiking his blood pressure from time to time though, inviting you to work with her some days without telling him. She would tell you that the slight wild look in his eye when he burst into the mansion after looking everywhere just to find you patching up Zenitsu for the seventh time that week—was worth it.
Everyone was aware how much he cared, the strange intimacy of your dynamic with Giyuu. Everyone but the two of you. The Water Hashira, famously averse to any friendly affection, was always found touching the small of your back, grasping your shoulder, anything that would be seen as just friendly guidance if it was anyone else.
“Watch your step…” He would say under his breath, watching your feet more than his own while traversing the stone paths throughout the headquarters.
To his dismay, he still had to leave for missions. In the event of his reluctant absence, he’d make sure you were cared for. Quietly stocking up on your favourite food and though you never asked for it, he’d leave something of his conveniently out in the open. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t have to, the way his eyes lingered when he came home to you wearing his stuff, anything really. Even socks had him secretly proud, feeling like he was a source of comfort to you as you are to him.
Giyuu’s missions could last hours to days to weeks. Sometimes you worried he’d never return. He always did however. Giyuu Tomioka was like the tides. He would always pull back, no matter how close, sometimes he was even completely gone from your life…but he would always return, sometimes closer than he was before.
It’s been a week since Giyuu left for his last mission. You knew he would return, he always does, but his absence has left you feeling lonely. The Hashira are pleasant company, but they are not Giyuu. Giyuu has a way of being a balm to your soul. His awkward jokes in the silence of night, whispered apologies when he thinks he’s said something wrong, the way his eyes brighten just a smidge when he hears you laughing finally. The house feels empty as you wander around, looking for something to do as you wait for it to be dark enough to go to sleep without feeling guilty.
The moon is beginning to rise when you hear him. His steps quiet along the old floor, announcing himself before he does appear in the archway. His blue eyes land on you, focused. He immediately roves over your face, body, checking for anything off. Once he’s satisfied he comes closer. He moves faster than you’re used to, and what he does next is even more out of character. He embraces you carefully, slow enough to let you decide, yet with the hold of a man who knew exactly what he wanted after weeks away from home. One hand creeps up to the back of your neck, fingers stretched across the expanse protectively. The other hand loops around your waist at your back.
“It’s warmer tonight.” He whispers. “We could sit by the water.”
He sounds tired, but hopeful. You hum thoughtfully, almost falling asleep in his warm hold.
“Sure…we could do that.” You say as you fight through a yawn. “Might fall asleep before we’re back home though.”
He doesn’t look perturbed.
“I can carry you.” He says like it’s the only answer.
You sit by the stream in the forest clearing, his jacket underneath you as a barrier between you and the dirt. Giyuu talks at a relaxed pace, detailing his journey to you. And when you fall asleep against his shoulder, he takes the time to think.
It was a marvel, how you two found each other, how you had even wormed your way into his thoughts, his home, and now his heart. Giyuu thinks he wouldn’t change it for the world, but right now, he felt more agreeable to changing it for something closer. Like the tides take over the sand, he wanted you to encompass him. He returned to you like the tide, but for you he wished to be the sand beneath, draped in your presence and impossible to remove.
Day 09 : a headcanon about your favourite pairing @inception30daychallenge
I recently saw a post about how Americans, coming from a huge country, don’t really think 5 hr drive is a big drive while brits think 45 mins ride is a trip you make only twice in a year, so here’s my two cents on arthur and eames as
✨ drivers ✨
Eames : born to be a passenger princess forced to be the designated driver. Hates driving with every single fibre of his being but has acquired (re: forged) passports for every continent. usually chill, but if you piss him off while driving, he will either ride way too close and follow you for a little bit to watch you shit bricks or start driving purposefully slow and refuse to let you pass. an excellent getaway driver as he will hightail it if needed but also not so excellent as he goes hard on breaks if he thinks a puppy or a squirrel crossed.
mostly plays classical music or the rare romance song while driving. and will always sing along. deliberately off key.
Insists that arthur rides shot gun and not so subtly keeps the free arm in Arthur’s thigh. Arthur pretends he hates it.
Arthur : LOVES to drive. Says it helps him focus but everyone and their mother knows that he just loves the sheer adrenaline burst of speeding. During a getaway, has extreme road rage and his usual calm persona shatters when he’s threatened while he’s behind the wheel. but in other times, in true paradoxical fashion, will let people cut in front of him because "they might have somewhere important to be". Has a great sense of direction but has mixed up left right signal lights on multiple occasions.
He’s a radio person through and through for nostalgic value. Doesn’t always sing along but almost always gets carried away during songs that hits on his feels.
Doesn’t mind where eames sits while he’s driving, but arranges the side mirror or overhead mirror, so that he can see eames at all times. So that he knows Eames is alright when he’s driving.
Getting a bit away from the fluff part but this is the first thing that popped into my mind for this
« but in the end the only thing that feels right is to complete the cycle. And so he casts himself into the void. His body will float there forever, far beyond the warmth » - The mechanisms; Death to the mechanisms
Jason had hastily packed her things and thrown them into the car they had used earlier. Now that the Waynes had found Roy, he no longer needed to be subtle. But that didn't change the fact that he had no idea where they had taken Roy. With the Waynes' money, they could afford not only every department store in town, but also a private jet to a completely different state or even country.
Frustrated, Jason let out a cry before jumping out of the car and running to the phone booth at the other end of the parking lot. He would have stolen a cell phone if necessary, because there was no time to lose, and that meant acting fast instead of smart.
The number for Wayne Manor was burned into his brain, but he dialed a different number and waited for Barbara to pick up. It took less than three seconds. Not many people knew her number, and those who did usually only called in emergencies.
This was an emergency.
“You have to tell me where Dick or Tim is,” Jason demanded, almost unable to believe that the voice was his own. He sounded desperate. Jason was desperate.
There was silence on the other end of the line.
“Babs, please. Tell me and I'll turn myself in. Make sure they don't hurt Roy and I'll accept any punishment without complaint. I won't run away. I promise.”
“Jason?” Barbara asked, and Jason couldn't quite place the emotions he heard in her voice. Did she sound relieved? Did she sound happy?
Even if he was wrong about these things, he could say with certainty that she didn't sound angry, which was not what he had expected.
"Yes… It's me," he replied uncertainly, relieved to hear her typing something on her keyboard. If he was lucky, she was trying to locate Roy at that moment. If he was unlucky, she was trying to locate him to make it easier for the bounty hunters to find him.
"Jason, grab a cell phone and call me back on the way. I'll guide you to her location as long as you meet me halfway and answer my questions."
“Understood… But please, Babs, tell them not to hurt him.”
Barbara sighed, and it didn't sound good. “Jay, I can't reach them. Roy's best chance is to get you to him as quickly as possible.”
She didn't have to tell him twice. Jason smashed the window of another car when he saw a jacket on the passenger seat. Luckily for him, there was a cell phone in it, and he could only imagine how a man would have wanted to prevent his wife or boss from calling at an inconvenient time.
Other people would probably have just taken it into the room with them, but maybe the guy had been robbed by his hired prostitutes before.
Jason didn't care, he dialed Barbara's number and stepped onto the grass.
“Turn left out of the parking lot,” she instructed him, and he followed her directions. A small part of his tension eased, knowing that he could still do something. Knowing his siblings, they wouldn't do it quickly. That gave him time. Jason just didn't know how much.
“So your death was all a lie?” Barbara asked, and immediately the tension returned. Jason would make it to Roy, but that didn't mean they would both make it out alive.
But if Jason begged hard enough, he might be able to convince his brothers to let Roy go. Jason had to make it work.
“Roy did shoot me, but it wasn't a fatal wound, and the Queens aren't known for nothing for having as many Lazarus pits as the Al Ghuls.”
Jason didn't like to think back to how the water had felt on the wound. It had played with his emotions, and Roy had often had to bring him back to this world in the days that followed, when their escape began. His mind had simply drifted away and he had lost control of himself.
Jason didn't want to know what happened to your mind when you took a whole bath in those waters. Maybe that was why Oliver had been so crazy as to expel Roy instead of protecting him from the Waynes' wrath.
“Take the forest path that appears a hundred meters to your right,” Barbara instructed before asking her next question. “Why? Why the lie? How desperate were you to get away from us that you had no choice but to resort to this lie?”
Jason took a deep breath before sharing a certainty that was difficult for others (especially his family) to understand. “There was no other way.”
