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strangemaleswaps · 10 months

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Strange Cop Dad Swap

I made my way to the kitchen, expecting some good alcohol since Brittney was rich. Holy shit! There was a huge variety of everything! Now THIS is what I expected at a college party! Who fucking cared if I wasn't even in college yet, or old enough to drink? This shit is crazy!

"What would you like my good sir?" asked some random guy at the table. I didn't think he was an actual bartender, since he was wearing normal clothes. Probably just some weirdo.

"Oh I dunn-" I didn't even finish my sentence when he put something into a shaker and poured it into a red plastic cup. He then handed it to me. Well, I guess if I'm at a college party, I gotta act like a college party guy. I chugged it all down in a second. Suddenly my throat burned like hell.

"Fuck man, one step at a time! Save the chugging for cheap beer. These drinks are classier." He poured me another. "This time baby steps my man."

I was kinda mad, but accepted the drink anyway. I walked back into the living room where people were on the dance floor. I saw my buddy Trent dancing with yet another random girl he just met. I swear that dude solely exists to break hearts.

"Hey! Garrett! Did you get the drinks?

"I got one. If you want one, go get it yourself."

"Ah fuck you! But seriously though aren't you scared your dad's gonna show up? I mean he IS a cop around here."

"Probably not. I'm sure there's lots of parties going on right now. What are the chances that he'd come to this one?” I noticed someone started talking to Brittney. It must've been bad because she widened her eyes and turned the music off. With the new silence in the room, we could hear the blaring police sirens outside.

"Shit who called the cops?" Someone said. The door opened and none other than my stupid dad appeared. His ugly bald head reflected the multicolored lights and he looked around at everyone, while I tried to hide myself behind the crowd. Beside him was the sheriff, Marty. My dad may have been good friends with Marty but he didn’t have to bring the fucking sheriff for something as simple as this.

"Allright allright, party's over. Nobody's getting arrested as long as you cooperate." Everyone started walking out the door and I was exposed. My dad widened his eyes when he noticed me.

"Garrett?! What the fuck are you doing? You know better than that!" He just HAD to start the lecture NOW out of all times, embarrassing me in front of everyone.

"What? I can't come to a party now?"

"Don't try excuses on me! I saw that cup in your hand. What? You expect me to believe that's water? Get in the car. Everybody else move it!” We both started walking outside while Marty stayed to lead the others.

Inside the police car, we were silent for a while until he blew up on me once again.

"I can't believe you were fucking underage drinking! Do you have any idea how irresponsible you are?! You're in your senior year of high school. Do you really think that’s going to be a good habit when you go to college?! You're grounded until graduation. I don't care how harsh that sounds. Graduation you hear?” I knew that nothing I said would change anything so I kept my mouth shut the rest of the car ride.

Back at home, we said nothing to each other as I walked up to my room and slammed the door. About an hour went by and I heard a knock, followed by my dad coming in.

"Hey."

"Go away."

"I just wanted to say that I overreacted a bit back there. It made me so angry seeing the type of person you might’ve ended up as." He was fumbling with his wedding ring. I don't know why he keeps it on anyway. I never knew my mom, and it's clear my dad is divorced so why does he wear a damn wedding ring? He needs to find a girlfriend or something!

“You have no idea how stressful it is! Why can’t I go to some little party just to unwind?”

“I was young once too! I just don’t want you to go down a bad path. You have so much more to learn. This isn’t a good habit to form when you go to college.” It was then that I blew up on him.

“Hey at least I am going to college! Unlike a certain dumbass cop…” His eyes widened and I saw nothing but pure anger on his face,

"I was going to shorten your grounding sentence, but after that attitude not anymore!" He then slammed the door once again.

Trent texted me a bit later, asking if I was going to be able to go to Brittney’s homecoming party. Shit! I forgot about that! There was no way I was going to miss it so we devised a plan for me to sneak out.

The night arrived and I had my plan all set. Trent was going to call the cops on some other party to lure my dad away. When he leaves, Trent will come and pick me up and it's party time! I was in my room pretending to be bored, when right on schedule, my dad came in.

"I got another dumbass party to shut down so stay here, and don't even think about leaving this room. You're still grounded." He had a serious look in his eye.

"Sure sure. I'll be good," I said sarcastically. I looked out the window and as soon as his car was out of sight, I texted Trent. Within minutes he arrived. I quickly got dressed and he picked me up.

"Dude, you're either the bravest guy ever, or the stupidest."

"Hey, I won't stay too long. Just enough to see what it's like really. And then I'll be back in my room before he comes home."

The house was easily twice as packed as the last party, it was incredible. Brittney came down the stairs and approached me with a confused look on her face.

"Hey, wait I thought you were grounded or something. Aren't you afraid your dad is gonna come back? He better not."

"Nah, relax. He's doing some other stupid police work. I won't stay too long anyway."

"Allright, if you say so."

I went to the kitchen, like last time, to find an even bigger variety of drinks! Nobody else was in there so I thought I'd experiment myself this time. I picked up the shaker and started pouring drinks, even though I didn't know what the hell they were. But I didn't care! I'm just glad I was able to sneak away from my dad. I tried the drink and…well it was actually awful. Oh well. I headed to the dance floor and started showing off my moves. I could hear everyone cheering me on until I felt a bit faint. The last thing I remembered was falling over and a couple people looking at me concerned.

When I opened my eyes, I was outside in the dark. What happened? Was I that drunk and they kicked me out? I felt pretty normal though. I walked back up to the door. When I closed it, a draft flew in, which was especially cold on my head for some reason. I let out a deep breath and when I turned around, everyone was staring at me. But it wasn't the type of confused stare I expected; it was a terrified stare. The music stopped and it felt like they were staring into my soul.

"Uh, I'm ok now.” My voice sounded really weird. There was an awkward silence until someone shouted in the back.

"Well party's over…AGAIN!" As everyone started walking out, I noticed Brittney was yelling at someone on the floor.

"Nah, fuck you Garrett. You're not allowed here again. Get up!" Weird coincidence that there was a guy with the same name as me on the dance floor too. As the crowd cleared, I felt a chill down my back as I found “Garrett” looked exactly like me! He seemed to be unconscious. When I approached him and Brittney, she looked up at me…which was weird because we were the same height. Did she get shorter or something?

"Oh uh, he didn't get beat up or anything bad. Just had a few drinks I guess." She spoke so compliantly, unlike the normal way she gives me attitude with every sentence. I noticed the guy on the floor was wearing my clothes too. He didn't just look like me, he WAS me! Was he a clone or something? What's going on? A breeze came through the still-opened door and hit my head again. Why is it so cold up there? I touched the back of my head, and felt a smooth spot. What the fuck? I searched around for my hair…for ANY hair! But all I could find was a smooth bald head. It couldn't be…I looked down at myself and found I was wearing a police officer's uniform, complete with the badge and full utility belt. Brittney stared at me, concerned.

"Is uh everything all right, officer?" No no! Don't call me that!

"I uh, can I use your bathroom?"

"Uh yeah, it's up the stairs and to the left."

As I made my way up and through the hallway, I stared down at my hands, noticing eerily similar things - a wedding ring and a watch that looked exactly like the one my dad wore. I opened the bathroom door and quickly locked it. I gazed into the mirror to find my fears had come true. I turned into my dad!

I grabbed my cheeks and tried pinching them, to make sure it wasn't all a prank and I was just wearing a mask, but nope. I could feel it all. It was real. Fuck! I saw how smooth and shiny my head was; I knew he shaved his head every morning, but I didn't realize how smooth doing that actually made it. It's like a fuckin bowling ball. I hate this! I had long hair before and now it's just all gone! It was freezing up there! I hated cops, so it was really uncomfortable wearing an officer's uniform too.

"Hey are you ok in there?" It was Brittney. I faked a flush and washed my hands.

"Is Garrett still asleep?" It felt weird referring to myself in the 3rd person.

"Yeah he won't wake up."

"I'll just carry him to the car."

Brittany walked to the kitchen, probably to clean up the alcohol before I saw the amount of it. When I got to the living room, I found Marty standing there. He looked up when he approached me and pointed at me.

“Hey you! What do you think you’re doing?” Shit. Does he know?!

“I’m sorry I-” He turned his fake frown into a smile.

“Don’t be. Sometimes we just can’t let anything else come before our duty. Even me.” He leaned over to kiss me. What?! What’s going on? “I guess we’ll have to reschedule that date to some other time.”

A date? Does this mean the whole time, my dad was gay? And for Marty? Was the whole wedding ring thing a facade? Marty actually had one too so maybe they both did it to prevent a scandal within the police department or something? I snapped back to reality when I noticed Marty was still waiting for an answer.

“Uh yeah, sure. Of course!”

“Good! Let me know!” He rubbed my bald head. It was then that I started getting hard …my dad's cock was getting hard. Marty wasn’t my type though! But suddenly the thought of him was making me feel good. Is this because I'm in my dad's body or because he's flirting with me?

I picked up..myself..off the dance floor and put him over my shoulder. I walked over to my dad's police car, and reached into my pocket for the keys to open it. I placed…myself inside, buckled him in, took my phone out of his pocket, and sat down in the driver's seat. I always hated my dad and hated cops in general but it felt pretty awesome actually sitting in the driver's seat of a police car. Like one of those movies where they have to steal one to save the world or something. The flashing lights were still on, but luckily I knew how to turn them off. I pressed the button and began driving home.

When I got home, I picked up my body once again, and carried him. It didn't really occur to me earlier, but if I'm in my dad's body, does this mean he's in my body? Fuck, I can't stand the thought of my dad going around embarrassing me in front of everyone! But he still hadn't woken up yet. What if whatever magical spell made us swap was keeping him asleep? But if he does wake up I need somewhere to put him at least. I walked upstairs and towards his room, and placed him on his own bed. I guess that'll do. I went over to my own room and plopped onto my bed, the pillow feeling extra comfy touching my bare head. I rubbed it again, actually kinda enjoying how it felt. Even though the body belongs to my dad, I'm still borrowing it right now. So I guess I have the freedom to touch myself anywhere. Not that I would want to go…down there. That's my dad's cock, gross! But I'm gonna need to jerk off eventually; I'm already feeling kinda horny now…but why? The thought of Marty crossed my mind and I suddenly was imagining him naked. Shit, not this again. He kinda was cute though, in like a lame cop kinda way. Man, I honestly wanna fuck him now.

At this point my cock was getting so stiff that I could barely take it. I started stripping, taking the heavy utility belt off first. Each garment came off until I was just in my dad's boxers.

I can't believe I was about to do this. I felt around my new dad bod, then peeled the underwear down to see my dad's cock. It was actually pretty big, maybe like 10 inches or so! So nasty…but I had to focus on the thought of Marty to stay hard. I took the underwear off so I was fully nude, laid down on my bed and started jerking it. I imagined Marty cornering me against the wall, kissing me until he grabbed my cock. He then got down on his knees and started sucking it until…I was pulled out of my fantasy and came. The white load shot all over my bed, much further than I could ever do in my body! After the climax wore off, I realized how gross it was that my dad's cum was all over my bed. But it felt so good! Actually, I have no clue how long I'm gonna be like this, or how long my dad is going to stay asleep so I could definitely take over his life for a bit. I'm not grounded anymore! Even better, I guess I'm a cop now so I have power and authority! I took my dad's phone - I mean MY phone - and called up Marty.

"Hey Marty, I have an idea…”

#strangemaleswaps #male body swap #body swap #dad body swap

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missuswalker · 10 months

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omg your fic i get it with kit is so sweet istg *-*

can I please request a part 2 to it, where kit tries to get y/n out attempting a escape for the both of them together? tysm, i loved this story <3

𝐢 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭, 𝐩𝐭. 𝐭𝐰𝐨 || 𝐤𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

♰ summary: kit can’t watch the woman he loves suffer - he has to get her out - pt 1

♰ warnings: nothing, just fluff!! he deserves it (kind of messy/rushed, though, i don’t why i couldn’t figure out how to write this 💀) and as usual not proofread

♰ notes: tytyty anon!! appreciate the love, i hope u enjoy 🫶🏼 kind of made it less stressful + more lovey because that mad needs it

“y/n.”

whispers of your name echoed in your head, pulling you from a darkness you couldn’t seem to escape. emptiness, pure silence only interrupted by the whispers.

“y/n. y/n, wake up, honey.”

sitting up with a gasp, your eyes fly open, panicked at the feeling of hands on your shoulders. upon taking a moment to look around, you’re calmed by kit’s face being the one hovering over yours. except, then, you’re confused. “kit? how’d you get in here?” you whisper, wrapping your arms around yourself at the bite of the cold air.

“look,” he answers, holding up a ring of keys. he offers you a hand, pulling you out of bed. “kit walker, where the hell did you get those,” you laugh, your eyes lighting up at the realization of what was about to happen. you were getting out of here! “don’t worry about that, get dressed, put some shoes on, we gotta go.”

you felt frazzled, nervous and excited all at the same time. you pull on your coat, the raggedy fabric not doing much to block out the cold. sliding into your shoes, you take kits arm, rushing quietly through the dark halls. there was stirring in a room nearby, leading the two of you to run.

you manage to make it all the way to the back door, kit flipping through the keys. “maybe we shouldn’t. we don’t have any money, where are we even supposed to go!” you begin, shushed by kit. “baby, don’t even worry about it. i know where to get some money, and as soon as we do, well get far, far away from here,” he says, his voice hushed and half-distracted as he pushes a key into the lock.

after managing to get everything undone, the door is open. “oh, god, kit,” you whisper, looking up at the dark sky. the moment was overwhelming, terrifying, but so freeing. kit is the first to step outside, dropping the keys into the overgrown grass. you follow, looking behind yourself. “we’re gonna run, okay? we’re gonna run, and we’re not gonna stop, i promise you that we’ll be okay. alright?” kit kisses your knuckles, looking up at you with those big eyes.

as soon as you nod, he’s pulling you with him. you run and run for what felt like hours, and then you’re approaching a house, a house in the middle of nowhere. “kit, where…” you begin, trailing off as soon as you started. “hey, trust me, okay? trust me,” he says back, walking up the porch steps. of course you trusted him. you just weren’t sure about whoever lived here.

kit knocks on the door, and only a few minutes later, a light turns on from inside the house. the white door swings open, revealing a young man. “well, i’ll be damned,” the mystery man whispers, reaching out to grab kit. you’re quick to step forward, halting when you see kit hug the man. “thomas, hey,” kit breathes, patting his back. “kit walker. christ, i thought i’d never see you again,” thomas laughs joyously, pulling back.

kit smiles, giving you a wink. “you know that box i gave you a while back? you still have it?” kit asks, thomas nodding immediately. “of course, yeah, it’s in the closet right here,” he confirms, walking off to the side, waving for kit to come inside. kit places his hand on the small of your back, allowing you to walk ahead of him. thomas smiles awkwardly at you, turning back to kit, handing him a cardboard box taped up and wrapped in rubber bands.

“i want you to take the truck,” thomas says, dropping car keys on top of the box as well. “oh, thomas, no, we’ll be fine,” kit denies, shaking his head. “no, i’m serious, i don’t need it. i only use it to pick up chicks. get out of here, man.” kit is hesitant to accept it, but he nods, putting a hand on thomas’s shoulder. “for the record, i never believed all that bullshit for even a second. you’re too kind. i’m so sorry this happened to you kit,” thomas frowns. kit looks at you, shrugging.

“we gotta head out,” kit says, bringing in thomas for another hug. “i’ll catch up with you soon, i promise,” he adds, his hand returning to your back pushing you out the door. thomas gives kit a goodbye, nodding at you, and you’re off again, hopping into the teal truck. “check that box f’me, sweetheart,” kit says, searching in the clove box for something to cut the tape. upon finding nothing but napkins, he hands you the car key. splitting the tape, you hand the key back to him, and he starts the truck up, pulling out of the dirt driveway.

inside the box was a wad of cash, a couple of tshirts, and a pocket knife. kit had a couple of these in random places in case of an emergency, which proved to be incredible helpful. kit peeks inside nodding. “if i remember right, that’s enough for us to get by until i can get a job. lets get way out of here,” kit sighs, driving out onto the road.

“you sure we’ll be alright, kit?”

“i’m sure, baby. get some sleep.”

♰

“hey, wake up!”

you wake with a start, little hands shaking you gently.

“momma, i can’t sleep.”

you look down at your daughter, rosie, kit sleeping soundly next to you. you give her a sweet smile, pulling her into you and your husband’s shared bed. “i can see that,” you whisper, pushing her brown curls away from her face. “can i sleep with you,” she asks, loud as can be. you nod, doing your best to make space for her. “try to be quiet, okay? daddy’s sleeping, listen,” you grin, kit’s snores bringing rosie into a fit of quiet giggles.

her laugh made you laugh, and soon, kit’s snoring stopped, the light snores replaced by loud, dramatic snores. rosie’s giggles return, kit turning around swiftly and wrapping his arms around her, bring her to his chest. “you laughin’ at me? huh?” kit teases, drawing a squeal out of her as he tickles her little arms. you laugh as well, shaking your head at the late night antics.

“you think this is funny, mommy? get her, rosie,” kit says, your daughter wiggling out of kits arms to jump on you instead. “okay, okay, it’s late, let’s calm down. rosemary, lay down,” you chuckle. your daughter whines, giving kit a pout. “aw,” she huffs, kit wrapping his arms back around rosie. “mommy is very tired,” you sigh, though your smile never wavers. “mommy’s right. it’s late, and the faster we go to sleep, the faster we can wake up and play tomorrow,” kit says, kissing the top of her head.

of course, being the daddy’s girl she is, rosie settles, shutting her eyes. “goodnight momma,” rosie says, reaching for your hand. “goodnight, sweetheart. i love you,” you whisper. “what, no goodnight for me?” kit teases, quirking a brow. “night, daddy,” rosie giggles, turning around in his arms. “night, honey, i love you so much,” kit smiles, kissing her head again. kit mouths, “love you,” to you, shutting his eyes.

it was safe to say you loved him too.

this was kind of caca but it’s okay i just suck at part twos

give me more requests pretty please i’ll kiss you if you do 😘😘

#x reader #ahs kit #kit walker x y/n #kit walker x reader #kit walker #american horror story asylum #american horror asylum #american horror story #ahs x reader #ahs asylum #tate langdon x y/n #tate langdon x reader #kai anderson x reader #kyle spencer x reader #james march x reader #jimmy darling x reader #evan peters x reader #evan peters fanfiction #evan peters

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carolmunson · 2 years

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you can count on me (nurse!s.h.)

inspired by: i'll be home for christmas brought to you in part by carol's christmas song blitz, holiday cheer, and viewers like you. a/n: i cried while writing this, so good fuckin' luck. cw: 18+ minors dni, hurt/comfort, sad/complicated family dynamics, lots of hospital talk (but i don't know shit about nursing or hospitals so i'm sorry if any of this is just blatantly wrong), mentions of illness/cancer, talk of death, overall holiday stress. mentions/discussion of WWII and the korean war, some slight homophobia, religious references (praying/heaven/'upstairs'), but on the bright side the party is featured and nurse!steve is a total flirt, so.

Christmas Eve, 1974

“I’ll be home for Christmas. You can plan on me. Please have snow and mistletoe, and presents by the tree…”

“Grandpa, why do you always have to sing this song? It’s so sad,” Steve asked, curling onto his side to face his grandfather. He smiled, running a hand over the boy’s hair, a little chuckle rattled his lungs. “Says who, sport?” he asks, creases on his face crinkling in faux offense. “Says daddy, says me. Daddy says it’s like if a funeral came for Christmas dinner,” Steve crosses his arms under the covers. “It’s not a sad song to me, kiddo. Came out the year I was far away from your grandma,” he explains, “They played it a lot when we were away – but I got to go home that year and surprise ‘er. It was playing in the diner when I walked in to say hello and she cried and cried – cried like a baby, kissed me all over my face.” “Ew,” Steve teased and laughed, “That’s gross. Girls are gross grandpa.”

“They won’t be so gross when you’re old like me,” he laughed back at Steve, tickling him on the tummy, “But I don’t think it’s a sad song, buddy – it reminds me of how much I love Grammy.” “So it’s a happy song, even though the words are sad?” Steve asked. He’s too young to understand, but that’s expected for such a little kid.

“Songs are whatever you make of ‘em,” his grandpa shrugged, tucking the covers around Steve while his eyes drooped with sleep, “But I gotta finish singing so you go to bed, or else Santa won’t come.”

“Okay, okay,” Steve smiled as his eyes fluttered closed, the soft hum of his grandfather’s voice sending him off for the seventh Christmas Eve in a row.

Christmas Eve, 1979

“He’s always at the office, he’s never even here. And then when he is, he’s just –” Steve’s eyes brimmed with tears, hugging his knees to his chest on his bed spread, “God damn it, he’s so mean.” Steve’s grandfather lets out a big breath, clapping a hand to his grandson’s shoulder, “I think your dad is just really overworked, kiddo. He’s tired.” “We’re all tired, grandpa,” Steve groans. He can’t believe the types of grown up things come out of his grandson’s mouth sometimes.

“All he does is talk about how much – how much better I can be to his friends. Like I’m not good enough for him now,” the tears spill over onto his cheeks, sliding past his running nose, the mole near his jaw, “Like ‘Steve could be varsity his freshman year if he just gets that three-pointer right. It’s looking rough,’ or like, like, ‘Don’t think my Steve’s gonna be in any honors classes, maybe your kid can tutor him’”

“You heard him Grandpa! He might as well have just – I don’t know – stood on the coffee table and told everyone h-how much – h-how much I s-suck at every-everything! Like I’m his favorite j-joke to tell at the w-watercooler. ‘Oh all he got from me was the good looking genes, other than that, not sure who’s kid he is.’”

“Well your mother is very pretty. I would know, she’s my daughter,” he says softly, “So I think you got a lot of those genes from her.”

He runs a hand over his bald head and smiles, “Maybe not my hair genes though.”

Steve lets out a weak laugh, “It’s not funny, Grandpa.”

“It’s a little funny,” he nods, a chuckle making his heavy shoulders bounce in his suit jacket. Steve laughs a little stronger, their laughs bouncing off each other, laughing from laughing, then laughing some more.

“You know something buddy, I’ve been around a long time. I’ve met a lot of people like your dad,” he starts, “And I when it comes to people like that, it’s important to just be kind.”

“But why? He’s not kind,” Steve argued, brows furrowing behind his new glasses. Another thing his dad teased him relentlessly over. ‘Shoulda named you Steve ‘Four-Eyes’ Harrington, kid.’

“I find the most unkind people need kindness the most,” he encourages, “And even if he’s still acting mean, at least you know you were the bigger man, right?”

“I guess,” Steve shrugs, “Why do you think dad needs kindness? Everyone kisses his ass. You saw them down there.”

The new tradition of the Harrington Office Christmas Party instead of the Harrington Family Christmas Party was weighing heavily on just about everyone. The time when they were supposed to be the closest and coziest quickly became the coldest. If this is how his dad was at home with his friends, Steve could only imagine what he says about him when he’s not there.

“I’ll bet you your dad’s not very kind to himself,” he confesses, “So he doesn’t know how to be nice to other people.”

“Well that’s too bad for him, then,” Steve broods. His grandpa barks another laugh.

“That is too bad for him, isn’t it, sport?” he gets up, motioning for Steve to get comfortable before he starts to sing, “Gotta get to bed, Steve. It’s late – Santa’s not gonna make it if you don’t go to sleep.”

“Grandpa, Santa’s not real,” Steve mumbles sullenly, getting under the covers.

“Who told you that?” he asks, putting on a show of acting shocked. Flabbergasted.

“Who do you think?” Steve shrugged, curling in on himself on his side and putting his glasses on the nightstand, “Dad told me. He said twelve’s too old to be believin' in Santa.”

“If Santa’s not real, then how did he call me this morning?” he asks, “He told me about the Atari you put on your list.”

“How do you know about that?” Steve shot up in bed, he only put the Atari on his Christmas letter to Santa. He didn’t tell anyone else about it.

“I just told you! He called me!” he urges with a full belly laugh, heading to the door, “Now go to sleep, or he’ll put it under that tree for me, instead.”

“Wait, Grandpa – sing the song.”

“You sure? You’re not too old for your grandpa to sing you to sleep?” he asks, his heart swelling.

“S’my favorite part of the night,” Steve smiles a drowsy smile, settling down in his covers while his grandfather starts to sing.

Christmas Eve, 1981

“Christmas Eve will find me, where the love light gleams…”

Steve sings softly to himself while he puts his pajamas on, the matching set his mother always made them wear for photos the next morning with the family. He can hear the sounds of the big corporate style Christmas party his father threw for the firm this year milling about downstairs. Even at fourteen, he wished his grandfather’s singing could drown out all the noise, but his Walkman would have to do.

“He would have loved that you’re still singing it,” Steve’s mother says gently from his bedroom door, tears shining in her eyes, “It must be really hard to not have him around this year.”

Steve forces a tight lipped smile, turning back to look at his mom and nods, “S’really hard.”

“Oh, Steven, I miss him, too,” his mother cries, walking over to hold him tight in her arms, “He loved you so much.”

It’s the most comfort he’s felt in months.

8 AM - Christmas Eve, 1996

“Makin’ a list, he’s checkin’ it twice…” Steve mumbles to himself, going over his charts for the morning leg of the day. He flicks his eyes up to Darlene at the admin desk. She’s in her late forties, gray lacing through her dark brown hair. She wears a new holiday theme brooch on her cardigan every day, resting on her heavy bosom. She carries her weight in her rosy cheeks and her big thighs. Her husband comes in every lunch break to give her a kiss and picks her up every night at five. “Where’s your name this year Darlene,” he asks with a wink, “Were you naughty or nice?”

Darlene, who’d never been immune to Harrington charm, smiles big and waves him off, “You better stop that before my husband comes through that door.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” he smirks, leaning over the counter, “Were you naughty or nice? Bet I could guess.”

He runs a hand through his hair, always half surviving double shifts on the thrill of flustering the married women in administration. Darlene’s face turns red as she turns to the computer in front of her, “I was very nice this year, Steve.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he shrugs with a knowing glance, swiping another chart out of the file holder and giving it a once over, “I won’t be around at five to ask Gary.”

“Oh, I saw you got the night off – who’s luckier than you?” she asks, “Gotta hot date or something?”

Steve snickers, “I could never play around with your heart like that, Darlene.”

She focuses on her work but shakes her head again while he continues, “Having some people over at my house. Parents are in Hawai’i again so –” he shrugs, “Just haven’t had some of the holiday off in a few years.”

“Night shift tomorrow?” she asks. He nods with a deep breath while he looks over the white board on the wall past Darlene’s head.

“Arthur’s coming in today?” Steve asks with a furrowed brow, looking at the patient list, “Isn’t he all good? He was in remission six months ago.”

“Oh yeah, he’s got a biopsy this afternoon – can you imagine? A biopsy on Christmas Eve?” Darlene asks, looking at the list with him, “Just routine, though. I’m sure he’ll be excited to see you.”

“Sure his wife will be, too,” Steve winks again and Darlene shoots him a look.

“Will you go do your job please, before I call security!” she teases, “I know what list you’re on this year, Harrington. You’re on my list!”

Steve laughs, adjusting his glasses and slinging this stethoscope around the back of his neck, charts tucked neatly under his arm. He’d been at the hospital a couple of years and even though his dad wished he was a doctor and not a nurse, he preferred this gig. It was all about making people feel good. He never had to give bad news, all he never had to do was just be there. All he ever had to do was be kind.

He loved the nurses that took care of his grandpa when he was sick, they were there all the way to the end. Steve made friends with all of them, especially Georgia – who called him a little heartbreaker and was always trying to convince his mom to let him have a playdate with her daughter. Steve thought Georgia was a whole lot of woman – spitfire red hair, the kind of nurse you found in dirty magazines. He guessed her daughter was just as pretty. He wouldn’t know, he never got a chance to meet her.

Arthur was a lot like Steve’s dad when they first met. Scrooge-like, a curmudgeon, not one nice word to say to anyone but his wife.

November, 1995

“Why do they got a male nurse in here for? What’s the issue kid, bein’ a doctor too hard? You a fruitcake or somethin’?” Arthur’s voice was gruff and angry, huffing and puffing into his mask while his oxygen pump wheezed above his head. He’d just gotten out of surgery for a chemo port in his chest, so the last thing he wanted to do was be greeted with a nurse he wasn’t able to flirt with.

“Oh Artie, will you just relax? You’re gonna have an aneurysm,” his wife chides.

“Of course you don’t care that he’s a guy, Dottie,” Arthur grumbles under his breath.

“Mr. Robbins, I get that you hate that I’m a guy,” Steve starts with a smile, “But if I don’t get your vitals you’re gonna be spending a lot more time with me than you want.”

“Please, take your time,” Dottie says softly, “Don’t listen to him. He’s such a grump.”

Arthur tosses her a look, it’s almost cartoonish. His frown pushes his jowls further down his face, deepening the creases by his nose. His furrowed brow in a permanent scowl from the deepened wrinkles in his forehead.

Arthur’s life reads on his leathered skin and perfectly parted hair. Still styled like he was stuck in the 50s, covered in pomade – the silver shining in the fluorescent lights above them. A set of dog tags hung on a chain, slipping over the dipping collar of his hospital gown.

“World war two?” Steve asked, casting his eyes over to them while he wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Arthur’s arm.

“And Korea,” Arthur wheezed, listening to the hiss of the cuff get tighter and then release, “Met my wife when she came over to sing for the boys.”

“Thanks for your service,” Steve nods, while he writes Arthur’s stats down on his clipboard. He’s not sure if he’s thanking Arthur or his wife, he might as well thank them both.

“Did you have any family in the war?” Dottie asked, crossing her legs. Dot was a winner, her hair a salon dark brown but the smile lines in her cheeks and the crinkles by her eyes showed her age. She wore a dark brown fur coat and carried a black leather handbag with a gold clasp that Steve was sure she’d kept in mint condition for the forty years she’s had it.

“My grandpa fought in World War Two, too,” he smiled, “My mom was born in ‘45, though, so he didn’t volunteer for Korea.”

“Well, thank him for his service from us, too,” Dottie says warmly.

“He’s no longer with us,” Steve says, still smiling, “He passed away in ‘81 – but I’ll send a prayer up to him from you.”

“Heh, if this thing keels me over, I’ll say ‘hi’ to your grandpa for ya instead,” Arthur lets out a grumbly, dark, chuckle.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Dot coos, tossing a reproachful look at her husband. Her voice sounds like it was made for the movies.

“Will you stop chattin’ him up and let him do his damn job?” Arthur growled.

“Stop being such a big baby, Artie. You want me to get you some water?” she asked her husband sweetly, “I’m about to go grab a coffee for myself.”

“Yeah, fine,” Arthur grumbled.

“Looks like that port went in okay,” Steve says to himself, inspecting the small contraption on Artie’s chest, “Everything feeling alright?”

“I’m fine,” he huffed.

Steve shook his head, scribbling down a few more things on the chart at the end of the bed, “I believe it, sir.”

“You from around here?” Steve asks, hoping to strike up a small conversation. They’d definitely be seeing a lot more of each other.

“From Florida,” Arthur wheezes again, “My son and his wife, n’ my grandson all moved up here for some job she got. He’s some stay at home dad, can you believe it? ‘Least you sorta made somethin’ of yourself.”

Steve doesn’t respond, just nodding along.

“Well anyway – hmmmff – s’cuse me,” Arthur coughs roughly, it sounds his Steve’s grandpa’s cough from when he was a kid, “Anyway, Dot couldn’t bear to be away from her boy so, here we are. Got here, two months later I got cancer – so, Indiana’s working out great for me.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Steve says earnestly, looking up from the board, “Your son comin’ in at all?”

“Nah,” Artie makes a face, shaking his head, “That boy doesn’t talk to me. Prob’ly happy I’m sick.”

“Oh, I doubt that–” Steve starts, but Artie let’s out a laugh.

“Oh, I’m not worried,” Arthur’s chuckle is gravelly and deep in his throat, “I’m the meanest son of a bitch you’ll ever meet – and if anything’s true in this life kid, mean people never die.”

Christmas Eve, 1995

“Well I’ll be back shortly, honey,” Dottie chirped while Arthur got his port hooked up to his tubing. She nearly knocked Steve over when he came into the room.

“Oh, Steven, honey! I’m so clumsy! Merry Christmas,” she beams, rubbing his arm affectionately.

“You’re okay, Mrs. Robbins,” Steve says with a wink, “You’re leaving so soon?”

“Just running out for a few last minute gifts! Gonna grab the Grinch here some cookies from my son’s house for him to snack on later,” she lists, “Can I get you anything, dear?”

“I’m perfect, Mrs. Robbins, thank you though,” his dentist perfect smile makes her blush.

“Steven, I keep telling you to please call me Dottie,” she huffs, pulling her coat on, “Mrs Robbins sounds so…ugh, so old.”

“Ah, yes, don’t call her by her married name Steve. She’ll remember how married she is,” Arthur grumbled from his chair, a low chuckle shaking his shoulders.

“Oh, stop,” Dottie teases, opening the door, “I’ll be back in a bit, I’ll see you both soon.”

“You keep flirtin’ with my wife I’m gonna die a divorcee,” Arthur joked while she disappeared down the hall.

“Well if it weren’t for you still kicking around here, she’d be more of a Mrs. Robinson to me than Mrs. Robbins,” Steve smirks into Arthur’s file, “The ladies love me here.”

“God, don’t I know it – you’re everywhere, kid,” Artie rolls his eyes, “Whenever the girls are in here fussing over me they’re always checkin’ the board to see when your shift starts. I tell ‘em every time, ‘Will you shut up about that Harrington boy? I hear enough about him at home!”

“Sees you when you’re sleeping, knows when you’re awake,” Steve shrugs, “Might as well be Santa Clause, huh?”

“You doin’ anything for the holiday?” Arthur asks, he sits up a little, slowly. He’s gotten weaker with the chemo, it shows in his eyes. It shows in the growing softness in his voice. It shows in the thinness of his skin, olive green veins bleeding through a tan film. He’s thinner now, more fragile – it reminds Steve of the hospital in ‘81. His grandfather’s hands lying there, rigid and waxy.

“You’re lookin’ at it, Artie,” Steve mumbles, adjusting the levels on the machines next to him.

“Even tomorrow? What about your folks?”

“My parents are in Hawai’i,” he lets a chuckle out in puffs of air from his nose, but Arthur knows it’s not a happy one, “I don’t really talk to my dad, much.”

“You and my boy would get along -hhhgggack- get along great,” Arthur wheezes into another coughing fit.

“Probably,” Steve laughs, “We both don’t like you.”

Arthur’s coughs turn into barking laughs, loud enough that other attendants are craning their heads to look over at him.

“Oh Harrington, you’re funny,” Arthur says, wiping his eyes, “You’re real funny.”

The early evening rolls around and Arthur’s treatment finishes up just on time. Lung cancer was hard, but lung cancer with COPD and emphysema was a little worse. Steve was surprised that they were already starting to see some progress on the tumor after three weeks – maybe Dottie had a deal with someone upstairs. No one in heaven was looking out for Arthur Robbins.

Steve undoes the connection to his port, starting the wrap up, singing softly to himself.

“Please have snow, and mistletoe, and presents by the tree…”

“That’s Dorothy’s favorite Christmas song,” Arthur hums, staring down at his feet.

“Yeah? Was my grandpa’s too,” Steve says, grabbing Arthur’s coat from the chair and passing it to him, “He used to sing it to me every Christmas Eve, just sort of kept up with the tradition.”

“We do the same for my grandson,” Arthur smiles, “It’s better as a duet. You should really hear Dottie sing – the pipes on her she just –”

“Hi, so sorry I’m late!”

As if summoned by the angels themselves, Dottie rushes into the room, gifts in hand. Arthur stands up, slowly putting on his coat and scarf, picking up his portable oxygen (which was hardly portable for a man his age).

“Stevie, here,” she says with a smile, handing him a gift bag, “It’s not much, but I notice you always just come in with a coat on and I’d love for you to stay a little warmer, honey.”

Steve melts, opening the tissue to see a red wool scarf and a pair of gloves nestled inside, “Dottie, you didn’t have to get me anything. That’s so sweet, thank you.”

“Merry Christmas, Steve, we’ll see you soon,” Dottie presses a kiss to his cheek, Arthur rolls his eyes.

“See you in the new year, Harrington,” Arthur says gruffly while he shuffles out of the room with Dot.

“I’ll see you Monday,” Steve corrects, putting his file in the holder by the door.

1PM - Christmas Eve, 1996

“Merry Christmas Artie, I got you a biopsy,” Steve cheers as he walks into Arthur’s room.

“Oh, there’s my boy,” Arthur laughs, it’s hearty but he still wheezes, the tubes in his nose shake against his face. Steve comes in for a hug, completely missing the two people in the corner of the room. A man in his forties or fifties, and a boy around ten or eleven next to him.

“Hi there,” Steve says, adjusting his glasses and putting his hand out, “I’m Steve, I was your dad’s nurse when he was here for treatment – and uh, I guess I’m his nurse today, too.”

“Mark,” the older man says, he doesn’t smile, “We’re not staying long.”

“This is my grandson, Mikey,” Arthur says, gesturing to the boy. Steve looks at him and his curly hair, his wire rim glasses that look like his own and his heart leaps.

“Hey Mikey,” Steve puts his hand out for a low five, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Mikey says back, slapping his hand against Steve’s. He watches Mark start leading Mikey to the door and he cocks his head.

“I’m just taking his vitals, you’re welcome to stay,” Steve says gently.

“We’ll be back tomorrow,” Mark says with finality, “Say bye to grandpa, Mikey.”

Mikey runs over, reaching over the bed on his tiptoes to pull Arthur into a hug, “I love you grandpa, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” Arthur smiles, “I love you, too.”

He watches them go and Steve turns back to him.

“Where’s Dottie?”

Arthur smiles at him with downturned eyes, “We lost Dot in August, Harrington.”

“Oh, no. Artie, I’m so sorry,” Steve apologizes, leaning against the end of the hospital bed.

“Still looked like a movie star down to the last day,” Arthur says with soft eyes, “Had me put her lipstick on the morning of, like she had someone to go meet in Heaven. I says, ‘Honey, I’m still here! Who’re you trying to look pretty for?’ She tells me she just wants to look pretty for me. Can you believe that? I’m just some schmuck she married.”

“She probably lied to you,” Steve teased.

Arthur swats at him with a grin, “She probably did.”

“Things okay with your son?” Steve asks, unfurling the blood pressure cuff.

“Nah,” Arthur shakes his head, “Mike though? That kid really is somethin’. He’s so friggin’ smart. Knows everything about computers and shit – even started teaching me how to use one. He’s ten! He’s gonna be – I don’t know, flyin’ rocket ships or somethin’ when he grows up.”

“You living with them?”

“No, no, still at the house. Can’t part with Dot’s stuff – y’know? So much of her is still there. She decorated the whole place. S’like I’m still comin’ home to her when I do,” he smiles up at Steve and Steve follows suit.

“You miss her?” he asks, the answer is obvious.

“Like the deserts miss the rain,” Arthur declares gently, Steve notices the soft heave in his chest.

“So what’s the deal, Artie, what’s the biopsy for?”

“You’re the nurse, you should know!” Arthur laughs in surprise, “Whaddya mean what’s the biopsy for?”

Steve rolls his eyes while Arthur wheezes back to speaking, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. They found a spot – I got a scan back in Florida, we were there for a couple months. It’s not big, but better safe than – y’know – cancer. But honestly kid, it’s nothing. I’m not worried about it.”

“Neither am I,” Steve nods. They go through the motions of his surgery prep, vitals, the works. They make jokes and share stories – it’d been a long six months. It was hard to leave each other – but his remission was a blessing. He’d become a different man in that year. They both had.

“I’m heading out around three today, so I won’t be back until tomorrow,” Steve says.

“Aw, c’mon, you’re supposed to be my Christmas buddy!” Arthur complains, “My son’s basically having me fuck off until he gets me tomorrow. Stick around!”

“You want me to stick around or do you want Sara-Jean to be your night nurse?” Steve smirks. Sara-Jean was real pretty. Pretty enough that Steve had pulled her into a few empty rooms to play doctor every now and again.

“Oh, you can get the fuck out right now if you want,” Arthur’s chortle is scratchy when it comes out. Steve missed that, and the soft puffs of his portable tank in the background.

3PM - Christmas Eve, 1996

“Barb, did you hear about Darlene?” Steve asks while he gets to the admin desk. Darlene ‘tsks’ under her breath while she types away.

“Did I hear what?” Barb asks, tossing a look at Darlene, “What’d she do?”

“Well I talked to the big guy, y’know?” he says, tugging on his jacket, wrapping a red wool scarf around his neck, “Turns out, she’s on the naughty list.”

“Ooh, Darlene! We better call Gary!” Barb teases with a laugh, opening a filing cabinet under the desk.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be, Steven?” Darlene whips her head around with a laugh, “Go home!”

“I know someone on the naughty list isn’t telling me what to do,” he tutts with a sly smirk.

He slaps a hand playfully on the counter, “Someone oughta teach her a lesson, huh Barb?”

“You’re pushin’ your luck here, Harrington,” Barb says, emerging from below the desk with a stack of files, “You’re luckin Gary’s not here to knock you into ‘98.”

Steve smiles, waving to the women, “If I don’t see either of you tomorrow afternoon, Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” they call back.

Steve pops his head into Arthur’s room, still waiting to go in for surgery.

“Hey, Merry Christmas, Artie,” he says.

“Hey, Harrington,” Arthur says, beckoning him over, “C’mere for a second.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” Steve asked, walking to the edge of his bed.

“I got a gift for Mikey that got delivered to my house this morning, my neighbor brought it in for me. But since I’m gonna be here overnight I was wondering if you could grab it and bring it in for me tomorrow? I just wanna tell ‘im Santa dropped it off so this whole thing doesn’t bum him out. I’m sure ya already got plans but I’d really appreciate it.”

“No, no, of course,” Steve shakes his head, “I’ll go pick it up. What’s the gift?”

Arthur smiles a knowing, grandfatherly smile, “He’s been begging Mark for a Nintendo 64 for since September – and they’ve been sold out everywhere. They can’t really afford stuff like that anyway, so Mark’s been telling him to ‘manage expectations’. Pfft.”

“Think I’d ever tell my grandson to manage his expectations?” Arthur asks, Steve swears he hears his own grandfather saying it. “So I used the lessons Mikey gave me about the computer and I found it on this website called E-bay – hefty fuckin’ markup I’ll tell ya that. Now, I had to go to the library to find out how to really order it but, y’know, here it is. Who’d a thought you could just click a button and get something sent to your house, huh? Friggin’ magic.”

Steve’s heart swells, “That’s really nice, Arthur.”

“He’s a good kid, he deserves it. And y’know, Mark could use a break – he really could,” Arthur nods, considering for a moment, “He really loves his boy – so I think it’s sort of a gift for him, too.”

“Well, I’ll give ya a call when I pick it up, okay?” Steve asks, walking back toward the door. Arthur nods, jotting the address down and passing it to him.

“Thanks a lot Harrington,” he smiles, stopping him while Steve gets to the door, “And nice scarf.”

Steve winks and pats the wall as he leaves.

7PM - Christmas Eve, 1996

“Well I don’t know what you want me to tell you,” Robin confesses, “If she didn’t get you a gift, she probably doesn’t like you like that.”

“What do you know about girls liking you back anyway, Buckley?” Eddie frowns, playfully tossing a red M&M at her on the couch.

“Hey, hey, be nice,” Steve says, holding his hand out to Eddie who fills it with M&Ms.

“You look so tired, Steve,” Nancy frowns, “How many shifts did you pull to get tonight off?”

Steve shrugs, tossing his head back on the cushions of the couch, “I don’t know, too many.”

The door opens and the kids file in. They aren’t kids anymore, Steve guesses, but they might as well be.

“Party people! Merry Christmas!” Lucas calls, head of the line to file in followed by a deeply embarrassed Max. She has a big bag full of shiny wrapped boxes in her arms but before Steve can scold her about presents, she shoots him a look that could kill him dead.

Henderson comes in after, immediately running to Eddie first, also carrying a bag of gifts.

“Merry Christmas, folks,” he announces with a smile while passing out gift bags one by one.

“Guys, I said–” Steve starts.

“Shut up, nerd,” Erica says, walking in the door with Will and El flanking either side of her. Mike follows up at the end, closing the door behind him.

“You say no gifts every year and we never listen to you, so,” Erica continues, crossing her arms and looking down at him from behind the couch, “Merry Christmas, though.”

“Merry Christmas, Sinclair,” he says up at her.

“Merry Christmas, Lady Apple Jack,” Eddie calls from the other end of the sectional.

“There’s food all laid out in the kitchen,” Nancy calls to them. Steve yawns, sitting up and watching the group move as a unit to the kitchen, dropping their gifts off under the tree on the way. He looks around, a smile creeping onto his face, a Christmas that finally feels like family. Like home. Like he’s seven years old.

His eyes zero in on the Nintendo 64 on the side table and his heart skips.

“Shit, I’ll be right back, I gotta make a phone call.”

Steve heads upstairs to his room, dialing to hospital without even looking at the numbers, counting the rings down to the second for Barb’s voice to pick up.

“Hey Barb, it’s Steve. Can you transfer me to Artie Robbins’ room? He feelin’ okay?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah, let me double ch– Hey, is Mr. Robbins out of surge–he is? Okay, okay – alright honey, let me transfer you over.”

Steve holds his breath while the phone rings, letting it out when Arthur’s scratches through the phone, “Hello?”

“Artie, hey, it’s Steve. Your gift is secured.”

“Oh, good, good –hhgggack-, s’cuse me,” Arthur coughs wetly, Steve can hear him spit on the other end, “Sorry about that.”

“Hey, don’t worry man. How was um, how was surgery, how’s it lookin’?” Steve asks, heart thumping in his chest.

“Well um…” Arthur trails off, another wet, hacking cough echoes through the line, “Y’know I uh – I got some bad news for you, Harrington.”

“Oh shit, Arthur…Arthur I’m so sorry,” Steve starts, “We can start you right back up on –”

“I can’t believe you’d lie to me like that, Harrington,” he confesses, ignoring Steve’s apologies, his voice grinding with phlegm.

“What? I didn’t – what do you –” sweat formed on his brow. Why did he tell him it was gonna be fine? He’s just a fucking nurse, how would he know?

“Sara-Jean wasn’t my night nurse,” Arthur says, exasperated, “It’s some old broad I’ve never met before.”

Arthur laughs and it gets caught in his throat like a wheeze, Steve lets out a long breath through his nose.

“You’re such a fuckin’ asshole,” Steve chuckles, rubbing his eyes under his glasses, “You almost gave me a heart attack, Jesus Christ.”

“Merry, merry, Harrington,” he says, “See ya tomorrow.”

“Do you want me to wrap it?” Steve asks, “The gift?”

“Hey, if you’re offering – I don’t gotta pay you for that, right? They gonna add that to my bill?”

“Actually, I’m gonna make sure they charge you double,” Steve smiles through the phone, hearing Arthur’s breathy laugh one more time before he says goodnight and hangs up. Steve heads back down stairs, the group all around the living room.

“Here,” Robin calls, beckoning him over and patting a seat next to her, “I’m gonna put on Miracle at 34th Street.”

“Why? It’s boring,” Mike frowns.

“Cause it’s your sister’s favorite and she made all the food, dumbass,” Steve snap at him, walking over to the couch, not resisting the urge to give him a soft smack across his mop of hair.

Eddie giggles, “Yeah, don’t be such a dumbass, Wheeler.”

8PM - Christmas Eve, 1996

Beep beep. Beep beep. Bzz.

The group looks over at Steve who immediately reaches back into his pocket, beeper lighting up and buzzing. He squints down at it, the hospital’s number flashing below, “Ugh, shit. They’re really calling me in now?”

“Just don’t go,” Eddie said, “They gave you the night off for a reason. Can’t they call someone else?”

“That’s not really how it works Munson,” he mumbles, “Sorry guys, I gotta go um –”

He looks around the room, eyes scanning everyone before they land on Nancy, “Nance can you just make sure everything’s locked up before you leave?”

She nods, Henderson’s voice calling over the TV, “Why do you always ask Nancy?”

“Do you really think I’d trust any of you other twerps to do it?” he asks with a laugh, pulling his coat on and wrapping the scarf around his neck, “Merry Christmas, guys.”

The traffic was low, everyone home and inside, cozy with their families while he races back up to the hospital. He lets out a sigh, exhaustion rolling over him in waves like he hadn’t worked three days in a row – the twelves hours he had off would’ve been a great welcome. Before he knows it, he pulls into staff parking, still in his scrubs, hurrying into the lobby.

“What’s up Barb,” he asks, “What’s goin’ on?”

“Oh, honey…” she says, her frown tells him enough.

“What’s happening, what’s wrong with him?” Steve asks, his body felt like he’d been dunked in ice water. In his peripheral he can see Arthur’s doctor come up behind him.

“Steve I – I’m sorry,” he says.

“What’s happening, what’s going on?” Steve eyes, nose prickling with heat, the back of his throat getting thick.

“He’s hemorrhaging,” the doctor said, “It’s happening slowly, but we can’t stop it…he’s not gonna make it, Steve.”

“Well you gotta, like, you can do something,” Steve says, a hurt smile pulling at his lips, “Like, there’s gotta be something that can stop it.”

“There’s nothing we can do, Steve,” he confesses, putting a hand on his shoulder, “He wants to go.”

“Well, um,” Steve swallows thickly, “Can you – has anyone called his son? Or? Where’s his family?”

“They aren’t coming,” Barb says, shaking her head. Tears pooled in her eyes, “He asked if we’d call you.”

“How much t-time does he have?” Steve gasps out, breath coming out of him in short spurts. Shoulders rising and falling unsteadily.

“Not much,” the doctor says, “You should go see him.”

Steve nods, numb, dizzy, the floor spins under him and suddenly he’s fourteen again – sitting in the waiting room with his dad while his mom wails outside the door.

He gets to the room and opens the door slowly, Arthur laying there covered in tubes – with every blink it’s 1981 all over again.

“Hey, Artie,” Steve says softly. He see’s Arthurs eyes flit toward him, a twitch of a hand standing in for a wave. Steve pulls a chair over and sits next to him, the healthy man he’d seen just hours before suddenly paled, older than he’d ever seen him.

“Hey -hmmmfff- Harrington,” he pushes out. Pulling in a big, strained, wheezing breath between the words. It sounded like it hurt to breathe – but with only one weak lung working at this point, the other filling with blood, Steve assumed it must be.

“Shh, shh,” Steve coos, “You don’t have to talk.”

He sits there for a moment, listening to the beep of the EKG, the whoosh of air from the oxygen machine. Steve watches the drip of the IV drip – morphine. Arthur’s eyes are drowsy, but they still sparkle playfully at him.

A lump builds in Steve’s throat while he watches him, he feels guilty taking deep breaths to keep from crying. He’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to hold back.

“Aw, come on man, you were – ugh, fuck – thought you were too mean to die,” Steve asked between sniffles. He tries to blink back his tears but they finally spring out of him, leaking down his cheeks.

“Well –hhhmmmfff- look what m-meeting you -hmmmfff- got me, k-kid,” Arthur laughs through labored, shallow, breaths, “One good -hhhmmfff- de-deed and I’m k-kicking the buck-bucket –hmmmff-.

Steve takes his hand, holding it tight, a shuddering breath hitting his lungs before he breaks, “I’m s-sorry your s-son’s not coming.”

“S’okay I don’t want -hhhmmfff– Mikey to -hhmmfff- see me like th-this,” he gasps out, eyes lulling, breaths getting farther and few in between.

“You think -hmmfff- Dot’s st-still gonna think I -hhhmmmff- look sh-sharp?”

“Oh, for sure,” Steve cries into a laugh, “She’d probably still think I look sharper.”

Arthur lets out a weak wheeze of a laugh, using whatever left over strength he has to push a half smile onto his face.

“I’ll say -hhmmff– hi to your gr-grandpa –hhmmff- for you,” he whispers. Steve nods, squeezing his hand, wiping his face with the other.

“He’ll thi-think you’re a real p-piece of work,” Steve jokes, his thumb grazing comfortingly over Arthur’s hand.

They sit there in silence, outside of Arthur’s labored breathing and the monitors beeping, Steve’s sniffling and shuddering cries.

“-hhhmmmff– H-harrington?”

“Yeah?”

“Sing the song.”

Steve doesn’t have to ask which he means, his heart breaks as he looks at the clock – 9 PM – right when his grandpa would bring him off to bed.

“Sure, Artie,” Steve promises, “Sure.”

“Christmas Eve will find me…”

“As the love light gleams…”

“I’ll be home fo– Oh, no…no, Artie. Arthur c’mon, c’mon man.”

The monitor holds a steady note, and against it, a rattle Steve knows all too well.

Christmas Day, 1996

Steve got home late but Nancy, Robin, and Eddie were still there when he got in. “How’d you know?” Steve asked, eyes red behind his specs.

“Your girlfriend Barb called,” Robin joked, pulling him into a hug. The rest followed suit, pressing against him so that maybe the pressure would relieve him of his grief. They all stayed the night, they saved cookies for him, a plate of snacks, dinner. They stayed up until he was fast asleep – all sneaking out quietly the next morning to spend time with their families.

Steve woke up around nine in the morning, blearily peering around the living room. He must’ve fallen asleep on the couch, glasses laid neatly on the side table and a note from Nancy. His eyes lingered on the present for Mikey, he heaved a deep and heavy sigh.

Steve got up and took a quick shower, hoping the water would take his aching along with it down the drain. It didn’t, but it woke him up a little. He didn’t bother getting dressed, just getting back into his scrubs from the night before, slapping on some deodorant and cologne before trudging back downstairs.

He took his time to wrap the gift, folding over the edges of the paper and sealing it seamlessly. The North Pole would’ve hired him in a heartbeat if they could get a look at this wrap job.

He pulled on his coat, his red wool scarf, and tugged the present under his arm while he walked to the car. He pulled out a small piece of paper from his coat pocket, his own sloppy writing looking back at him with Mark’s address scrawled on it. It was a twenty minute drive – it felt like an eternity.

He rang the bell and knocked on the door, and even though he knew they were home he was still surprised to see Mark open it, his wife next to him.

“Hey, Mr. Robbins,” Steve says softly, “Sorry to come by but um – I know this must be a really hard day for you both, but –”

“It’s okay. Um, Steve – right?” Mark guesses, Steve nods. Mark looked worse for wear, “This was dad’s nurse at the hospital.”

“Hi,” his wife murmurs, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merr–”

“Dad, who is it?” Mikey calls, pushing between his parents, “Oh hey, you’re that guy from yesterday.”

Steve guessed it must be hard to really dampen the magic of Christmas for a ten year old, even if his grandpa just died.

“Hey buddy, you’re actually the guy I wanted to see,” Steve said with a smile, kneeling down to get closer to his level.

“I found this on the desk in the lobby at the hospital,” he says, looking down at the box, holding it out in front of him, “It’s addressed to you, looks like it’s from Santa.” Mikey frowns, and at a closer look, it’s clear Mikey had just as rough of a night as his dad had. His lower lip wobbles slightly but he quickly straightens it out.

“Santa isn’t real,” Mikey says defiantly, crossing his arms.

“Who told you that?” Steve asks, his brows furrowed.

“No one told me,” Mikey mumbles softly, “I told Santa that all I wanted for Christmas was for my grandpa to get better. And he didn’t…so…”

“Well if Santa’s not real, then how did he call me this morning?” Steve asks with a smile.

“What?” Mikey asks, eyes shining with excitement.

“He told me he left this at the hospital because he thought you were still there,” Steve explains, “So he asked if I could bring it to you. It was something you really wanted, he told me.”

“Oh man, is this –” he takes the box from Steve, it’s a little too heavy for him, “Is this what I think it is?!”

“I don’t know, dude, you gotta open it!” Steve laughs. Mikey sits right on the ledge of the front door, Mark and his wife behind him. The paper rips away to reveal the Nintendo 64 Mikey had begged for since it came out in September.

“WOW! Dad look! Santa saw it on my list! He didn’t forget! I can’t believe it!”

Steve stands back up to see Mark, his red eyes pooling with tears.

“Honey, why don’t you come with me and I’ll see how we can set it up,” Mark’s wife says to Mikey, taking the box from him. Mikey runs inside and his mom gives Steve a small wave, wishing him a Merry Christmas.

“S’that from my dad?” Mark asked, wiping his eyes.

Steve takes his glasses off, wiping his own, “Yeah, he um, ordered it online – if you can believe it.” They both let out a small, pained, airy chuckle. Two men who are suddenly boys. Red noses and cheeks.

“He asked if I’d bring it to him to give to Mikey but um, y’know.”

Mark nods, face contorting while he tries to hold back a sob, “Merry Christmas, man.” Steve puts his hand out to shake it, but Mark pulls him into a tight hug where they both fall apart, “I’m so sorry, Mark. I’m just so sorry.”

They stay embraced for a few minutes before breaking apart, both taking deep breaths while they settle. Two boys who know what it’s like to not understand their dads. Two boys who know better now.

“You’re a very kind man, Steve,” Mark says, “Thank you so much, for – for this.”

“Thank you,” Steve says gently, “I hope you and your family are able to have a good holiday.”

They say their goodbyes and Steve takes his keys from his pocket, swinging them into his hand. He gets in the driver’s seat of the BMW, the leather quickly cooled over. He watches Mark shut the door behind him and takes a cleansing breath through his nose and out through his mouth, putting the key into the ignition.

The heat blasts and he pulls out onto the road, flicking the radio on.

He chuckles sadly to himself, eyes closing briefly behind his glasses at the coincidence, while the radio crackles to life.

“Merry Christmas, guys,” he says, staring up at the sky through the windshield.

Bing Crosby’s voice fills the car, and Steve’s red, wool scarf feels warmer than it ever has around his neck.

“Christmas Eve will find me. As the love light gleams. I’ll be home for Christmas…

If only in my dreams.”

#steve harrington fan fiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #nurse!steve #nurse!steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington au #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #the party #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you

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skiiyoomin · 1 year

Note

would you consider doing a nikolai lantsov imagine in which the reader is a mercenary and they meet in ketterdam 👀?

⤑Back to navigation

Content: slight enemies to lovers?, TIME SET BEFORE THE WHOLE ALINA THING, swearing, slight violence (mentions of guns) fluff at the end

Summary: When you unexpectedly "steal" a job from Nikolai, currently under the name of Sturmhond, a playful rivalry forms between you two. When your life is suddenly put in danger, that relationship changes for the better.

a/n ABSOLUTELY!! I tried to fit the reader into the whole mercenary thing and i dont really know if its accurate or not, i hope you like it tho!

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

ღThe Mercenary | Nikolai Lantsov

Lively chatter could be heard in the distance, the soft glow of the moon illuminating what the street lamps couldn't. Ketterdam was like that, never asleep.

Your feet splashed on a puddle as you walked through the street of the Barrel, sharp eye on the look out for anyone who was bold enough to pick your pocket. Finally, after a few turns, you stepped down a dark alleyway, stopping at a dark wooden door. Without bothering to knock, you slammed the door open, stepping into a small room, the fireplace bringing forth a warmth in sharp contrast to the cold of the city.

The person, a man around his 60s jumped slightly, head snapping towards your direction before relaxing slightly once they saw your figure "Jeez, always trynna gimme a fright ey"

You rolled your eyes, snickering slightly. Taking a seat, you leaned your elbows on your knees as you nodded towards the envelope "So what do you have for me?"

He chuckled, "Always straight to business huh" You cocked your eyebrow upward "Well that's exactly what we're here for are we not?" Chuckling once again, he looked down at the envelope before handing it to you "I don't know what it's about but a lil' birdie told me it pays well"

You snatched the envelope, quickly ripping it open. Your eyes scanned the letter, a small smirk settling on your lips "Well your little birdie wasn't wrong" Abruptly, you stood up, opening the door "Are ya not gonna tell me what it says" "You'll figure it out, don't stress it"

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

A soft sigh left your lips as you streched your arms upward, walking out into the fresh crisp air of the early morning. 'Damn that took longer than I expected' You walked back into the busy streets of Ketterdam, weaving between bodies, one should never stay out too long in the streets.

Despite the crowds, you noticed a change in the air, you were being watched, maybe even followed. You picked up your pace, trying to confuse your follower, however luck was not your side when you realized you wound up in a rather empty alleyway with a dead end, great.

Taking a step backwards, your back bumped into something hard, whirling around you came face to face with a young man, a smirk on his face. "What the fuck do you want?" you scowled. He slowly stepped forward, like a predator stalking towards it's prey, as you moved backwards, slamming into the wall. His voice was rough and low as he spoke "You, darling, took something from me" Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion "What are you talking about, I don't even know who you are" He chuckled, amusement written all over his face "Why you took my job of course" You scoffed "Your job? How is it yours when I got to it first huh" However, before he could speak another word, you pushed past him. You looked over your shoulder, smirking at him "If you want something you gotta move fast before someone else takes it, that's how you survive around here" Just like that, you moved back into the crowd, disappearing as if you were the air itself. The man stood amazed as he watched your figure disappear, a light laugh leaving his lips "How interesting"

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

For the next few weeks, you found yourself in the same situation with Sturmhond, whose name you learned a few days after that one day. He'd take jobs from you. You'd take jobs from him. Being as competitive as you both were, you'd provoke each other, trying to rile the other up. Nonetheless, there was a silent agreement that there was truly no bad blood between you two. Eventually you found yourself enjoying the teasing remarks and reveling in your little squabbles, feeling your heat flutter every time you were around him.

The next job you took, as simple as it was, only seemed to go downhill. You were currently racing down Fifth Harbour as a group of armed men chased you down, their faces fuming with rage. Suddenly you felt a hand grab your arm, forcefully pulling you to the side and into the persons chest, their other hand covering over your hand mouth before you could let a single noise out. A familiar smooth voice whispered into your ear "Sssh, don't make any noise unless you want to give yourself away"

After a few moments you moved away, facing towards him "You knew this was going to happen" It wasn't a question but rather a statement. He simply shrugged as if he hadn't just saved your life "What can I say, i'm simply that amazing" You scoffed, rolling your eyes "Unbelievable" "Hey you could at least say thank you, I did save your life just now" Once again you rolled your eyes, a small smile settling on your lips "Thank you" He courtesied dramatically "The pleasure is all mine, my lady" You threw your head back in laughter, copying his dramatic movements.

Before you could speak another word, you heard a shot ring out, bullet hitting the wall nearest to you. Your eyes landed on the same group you were running from, and they were looking straight back at you.

Sturmhond had faster reflexes and quickly grabbed your wrist, dashing once again down the harbour, practically dragging you with him. He suddenly swerved to the left, heading towards a ramp leading to a big ship. The occupants looked up at you, startled by the sudden intrusion, but they seemed to relax when they spotted Sturmhond. He led you towards the end of the ship, sitting you down on a box "Stay here, I'll make sure they aren't following"

Suddenly it dawned on you, this was his ship. He had told you many stories about his insane adventures on the same ship you were on right now, making you wonder what it was truly like to venture the sea into unknown lands.

The sound of his voice snapped you out of your thoughts "They're gone"

You leaned back into the wall, releasing a sigh of relief "You truly are a life saver" You smile, a teasing tone in your voice. "Only for you darling" You snickered in return, "You're so cheesy" Though the blush on your cheeks was obvious, he decided to save you the embarrassment, for now at least.

You let your eyes wander over the deck, taking in the vast variety of people doing their own thing "You weren't wrong when you said you had a nice ship" You mused.

"Well I do take great pride in it for a reason don't I?" He cocked his eyebrow upward, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

A wishful sigh left your lips, standing up you leaned on the railing, looking out at the sea "It must be nice, getting to explore the unknown sea, visiting all sorts of places"

There was a pause, almost as if an unspoken question was asked. His voice was soft and doubtful, as if he was unsure if he'd scare you away with his words "You...could always join me, we have plenty of space here"

You turned to him, a sparkle in your eye "Really? You mean it?"

He took your hands in his "I do, I could teach you everything, I'm sure you'd fit right in"

He abruptly stopped his words, moving his hand to your cheek, grazing his thumb against your soft skin "I'd miss you too much, it wouldn't be the same without you"

You smiled softly "I'd miss you too...Thank you, Sturmhond"

His gaze flickered to your lips, lingering a second too long "Nikolai"

"What?"

"Call me Nikolai"

His soft lips pressed against yours, pulling you impossibly close, your previous shock slipped from your mind as you kissed back, wrapping your arms around his neck.

If you had known, you would've stolen jobs from him much sooner.

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skyloftian-nutcase · 2 years

Text

The Haunting Past (LU in Healthcare)

PLOT CHAPTER! :D You ready for emotional whiplash because I threw a snippet in there too?! Woot woot for wretched pacing but I don't care because I do what I want with this insanity LOL

(Click here to read on AO3)

Time stared at his phone.

Time Time Sky’s back He’s back and he’s ok

TIME TIME OH MY GOSH TIME IT’S SKY WARS AND I FOUND HIM HE’S ALIVE AND HE’S OK AND WE’RE HAVING ICE CREAM YOU GOTTA COME HERE LIKE NOW ASAP STAT STAT STAT ARE YOU LISTENING LOOK AT YOUR PHONE DAMN IT AND DON’T SAY “NO SWEARING” ORWHATEVS OK LIKE IT’S SKY

“Honey? What’s wrong?”

Taking a shaky breath, Time slowly sat on the sofa. He… didn’t really have words to say. The messages were from last night – he’d silenced his phone for dinner with Twilight and hadn’t bothered checking it until this morning.

Sky was alive?

“Link?” Malon prompted, sitting beside him.

He looked so worn thin, yet his smile shone just as brightly as always.

“Thank you,” Sky said, leaning in for a hug.

Time held him gently so as not to jostle his healing injury. “You’re welcome. Go to the barracks and get some sleep, Sky, some real sleep, okay? They shouldn’t be letting you on a helicopter anytime soon anyway. Enjoy the rest.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

Except he hadn’t. He never saw Sky again. No letter, no text, no explanation whatsoever. Sky had been released from the hospital after his wound and then he’d just vanished.

Time reread the texts and felt his breath catch in his throat.

“Sky?” Malon whispered as she looked at his phone. “I’ve heard that used as a nickname… you talked about him, a pilot from the war – one of your Lost Boys, right? You said he’d died.”

“I thought he must have,” Time muttered.

The couple sat in silence, and then Malon gently laid a hand on his shoulder. “Honey, this is amazing. You should reach out to them and see if you can find him.”

He thought he’d come to grips with everything. Sky had disappeared two years ago, after all.

Shakily pressing on the phone, he dialed Warriors’ number, but when he didn’t get a response, he remembered that Warriors was working today. Wind was in class, he knew that much.

That meant the kid would absolutely be goofing around on his phone.

Nugget, I need to know what happened. How did you find Sky? Where is he?

It took less than five seconds to see the little speech bubble appear, and he waited.

he said he’s staying somewhere close and works in the area

isn’t that crazy??? So cool

like I can’t believe he’s here!!!!!!

u want his #? I made him give it to us

“Yes,” Malon immediately said when Time hesitated. “Honey, come on, you should reach out to him!”

When Time still didn’t speak or type, Malon brought her energy down a little and hugged him instead.

This was just… overwhelming.

“I’ll make some breakfast. Take your time.” Malon finally said softly, kissing him on the cheek and heading for the kitchen.

Time sat still, alone and silent. And then, finally, he typed, Yes.

The doorbell rang, distracting him before Wind could reply, and he plopped the phone on the couch, filled with both anxiety and anticipation. Taking a steadying breath, he went to answer the door so Malon could keep cooking. He imagined… he imagined Sky’s number would be available once he got back to the sofa.

So what would he do? Call him? Text him? Do anything at all?

Why had Sky disappeared without a word if he was still alive? Did he not want to talk to them? None of it made sense. Sky was gentle and sweet, though far more mischievous than people realized, but he wasn’t cruel.

Shaking his head to focus on the moment, Time opened the door.

And saw Sky standing on his porch.

The pair stared at each other for an eternity. Time couldn’t even quite process who he was looking at. The always sleepy teenager had grown into a young man, more muscular yet more worn, smooth young face carrying traces of worry and stress, held heavy in the dark circles under his eyes. His jaw was set tightly, muscles pulled and stiff. His posture was rigid and tall, like a soldier, but holding a tension of anticipation, a defensiveness for a blow that hadn’t yet been struck. His brow was crinkled together, so obviously conveying anxiety.

The morning doves cooed gently as a breeze blew. The surrounding nature brought Time back to reality. He started to take a small step forward when Sky’s breath caught a little too sharply. His entire being screamed an apology, and Time could only fathom what it was for.

Sky’s eyes began to water, and he swallowed hard.

Time reached forward and dragged him into a hug.

XXX

Hyrule entered the bar, breathless and excited. He had just gotten off another 48 hour shift and he was ready to unwind with his friends. Four had mentioned that Legend brought a new friend along. Hyrule had heard about him the last time he’d been in the emergency department, but he hadn’t had the chance to meet him yet.

Catching sight of Four, he smiled and made his way to the table where his friend was sitting. Everyone was still in their scrubs, making Hyrule feel a little better about only changing his duty shirt so he wouldn’t be seen in a bar in his uniform. Four had his colorful hoodie on that he always wore outside of work when weather permitted (and the cold rain outside certainly permitted it), while Legend had a light blue beanie covering his blonde hair and then was in his usual crimson scrubs. There was a third person at the table, a blonde man in forest green scrubs with perfectly quaffed hair and a chiseled jawline. His eyes quickly snapped to Hyrule before the paramedic had even gotten within a few paces of the table, and their intensity made him a little nervous all of a sudden.

Four noticed the new guy’s scrutiny and followed his gaze, smiling in recognition. “Hey, Hyrule, you’re—”

Four’s smile turned upside down as he scrutinized Hyrule. “You’re soaking wet.”

Hyrule shrugged sheepishly. “I didn’t expect the rain.”

“Where did you park?” Four asked skeptically. “Is it raining that hard?”

Hyrule fumbled for an answer hastily. “O-oh, I—not far, I—I decided to bike today.”

“You bike?” Legend questioned.

Hyrule smiled, elated and proud. “Yeah! I just got the bike last week!”

“Well look at you, being all healthy,” Legend snarked with a smile. “Come over here and sit down already, you’re being weird just standing there.”

Hyrule chuckled bashfully and made his way to the table. The new guy smiled in welcome, and his face and eyes warmed. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Warriors. You must be Hyrule?”

Hyrule nodded, smiling politely. “Yes, that’s right. Are you on in the STICU with Four?”

“ED,” he answered, sipping his drink.

“So how was your day?” Four asked the pair of emergency nurses.

“I got pissed on by a patient,” Warriors said dryly. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I miss getting blood all over me from my trauma soldiers.”

Legend snorted, crossing his arms and smirking. “Welcome to civilian ER life.”

Hyrule gasped in realization. “You served in the military?”

Warriors nodded. “I was an army nurse and a soldier before that.”

“Were—did you serve during the civil war?”

Warriors’ smile grew a little strained, and he nodded.

Hyrule dropped it after that, sensing the change in atmosphere. “Well, I’m a paramedic! It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, yeah, nice to meet the pretty boy,” Legend said dismissively, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, my day was great, had a DKA patient whose sugar was like nine hundred and then we got priapism guy again.”

Hyrule groaned. “Again? You’d think he’d learn after the first time.”

“Nope!” Legend quipped, cackling. “He’s gonna lose it if he isn’t careful.”

Everyone at the table shuddered. Hyrule looked at Four. “What about your day?”

Four shrugged good naturedly. “Not bad. My patient actually walked today and pain management was great, nobody called the behavioral response team and nobody got punched.”

Warriors propped his chin on his fist, bottle already empty. “Head injury patients are a beast.”

Four nodded sagely. “No kidding. So what brought you to Hyrule Hospital?”

Warriors shrugged. “Looking for a change of scenery. Friend recommended I come here after I left the army.”

“Yeah, get this,” Legend interjected, pointing to Warriors. “He and Time are old war buddies.”

“Time? Really?” Hyrule asked. He’d met the trauma surgeon a handful of times by now since Four and Legend were more familiar with him. He seemed very wise and kind, but also mysterious. Time didn’t talk about himself or his past; he asked others about themselves and talked about work, and by the end of the conversation Hyrule would leave and realize he hadn’t really learned a thing about the man. He never knew Time had been in the army.

Warriors nodded, his eyes warming at the mention of the surgeon. “Yes, he’s the one who recommended I come here.”

“What part of town are you settled in?” Legend asked. “I’ve got the whole city mapped out, so I know all the good spots in town for food and shopping and the like.”

“Northern side of town, Seer District.”

“Of course you’re in the swanky side of town,” Legend commented with another roll of his eyes.

“Well what about you?”

“Lorule District.”

Hyrule headed for the bar as the group chatted about different places in the city, smiling cheerfully at the lady behind the bar. “Hey Telma!”

“Hey, honey,” Telma greeted warmly before frowning. “You’re soaked to the bone.”

Hyrule chuckled, his shoulders rising in embarrassment. “Yeah. It’s okay, really.”

Thankfully, the barmaid didn’t push. Sighing and shaking her head, her smile returned as she asked, “The usual?”

Hyrule nodded eagerly, and happily accepted the glass of milk that Telma offered before skipping back to the table to rejoin his friends.

XXX

Twilight sighed in contentment as the fire crackled. Both he and Wild were off work for the next couple of days, and they’d decided the outdoors was far preferable to the ratty motel they’d been staying in.

Being new to the area, Twilight didn’t know the surrounding vicinity as well, but Wild had explored both the entire city and the wilderness around it.

“Camping was such a good idea,” Twilight remarked, leaning against a tree.

Wild hummed cheerily, belly full of some soup they’d packed along. “Maybe we could just live out here? Beats the motel.”

“It took us an hour and a half to drive out here. You want that commute?”

“I’ve heard of people driving that much from their homes!”

“Where are we going to shower?”

Wild squinted at the fire. “Pretty sure there’s a stream somewhere…”

Twilight laughed. “I’ll pass on that, heaven knows what’s in the water. I’m down for camping on our days off, though.”

There was a comfortable pause, and then Twilight’s curiosity got the best of him. “How did you find all these places, anyway? Have you just… been homeless for most of your life?”

Wild sighed and shrugged. “I got here with little recollection of how. Didn’t have much to go off of, either, so I made do.”

Twilight sat up a little more, growing confused and concerned. “What do you mean you don’t remember how you got here?”

“No here,” Wild said, motioning at the campsite they’d made. “I mean, like, bigger here. Castle Town. All that.”

“You just… woke up in Castle Town one day and didn’t know how you got there?”

“No,” Wild answered. “I woke up in a… I woke up somewhere else and didn’t know how I got there. All I knew was I needed to get out. And I kept going and going, and most transportation leads here, so I got off the bus here and started turning it into my stomping grounds.”

Before Twilight could ask anything else, Wild turned the conversation to him. “How about you? What brought you to Castle Town?”

Twilight shrugged. “Needed a change.”

The pair was silent, neither willing to make eye contact or elaborate on what they had said. Then Twilight chuckled. “Look at us. Let’s talk about something else, the important stuff: do you like dogs, cats, or both?”

Wild shrugged. “I’m kind of meh to all of them.”

Twilight gaped. “What what?!”

“I don’t know, I mean I’ve run into the city’s stray cats a million times over and they’re feral as hell,” Wild shrugged. “The dogs too, honestly. Best to just avoid them.”

“Unbelievable,” Twilight muttered. “We need to work on this.”

#lu in healthcare #writing #lu sky #lu time #lu hyrule #lu four #lu warriors #lu legend #lu wild #lu twilight #lu malon #Wild is kind of impartial to animals and Twi must rectify this immediately #Time and Sky make me cry #Hyrule is precious #Wars and Ledge are chaotic #good vibes emo vibes chill vibes all the vibes

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xxklut-jaycunt · 3 days

Text

Other side of the game-Matt sturniolo

Upcomingdad!!matt regrets,stress,selfcare,handjob,tits fucking,tits sucking,eating out(yup he ate yo girl out)-ETC

18+ minors do not disturb

Let’s summon this shit up: I got this inspiration from Erykah Badu from her song other side of the game, which means that in the song, it’s about being a girl (young lady in particular)and it’s about the weighing of morality of the situation as she expecting child with a man ,which him and her has no ideas what they’re going to do,all while she trying to keep a stable relationship with the man for the upcoming child.

“Matt the food is ready”as you yelled while caressing your 4 month old pregnant baby bump,while putting all the food on the plate ,while Erykah Badu on&on played in the background ,you put a lid over it to hold its heat onto the plate patiently waiting for him to come down.”god damn Matt hurry up as you yelled again frustrated ,you knew it been hard on him since the start when you found out you was pregnant and on top of that you was also scared to tell him at that time ,you was going through it,begging on your knees ,pleading and crying to Jesus himself to strike you down for getting caught up like that ,but eventually you told him, and it’s been hard him for his last four months .

Cold hands wrap around your body,rubbing your baby bump and you lean back to see his face expression,you got the same look as always ,Matt lost that little sparkle in his eyes ever since you got pregnant,he’s been stress trying save more money for the baby and keep us in a nice environment,fans tryna track us down and shit,yeah it’s been hard for him.”mhm damn baby what you cookin - from wrapping cold hands around your baby bumps went to cold hands leaving the baby bump to a loud hard smack on the ass making you yelp a lil in pain from how aggressive that was to you, “Matt back the fuck up ,yo ass coming over here and just fucking shit up and I yelled for ass twice ,you must can’t hear and stop hitting my ass,Damn”~ Matt chuckle while leaning back to see your ass ,smiling liking at how he got a mean mug aggression out of you ,Matt went back to wrapping his arms around your baby bump while sighing ,all while he’s rubbing your baby bump ,the sudden thoughts of him being a father scared him a little bit and that the fact that it’s his seed,his blood,his sweat,his tears,his baby,his future daughter or son freaked him out a lil bit,he knew his wasn’t even there mentally or physically for his-self so how could he be there mentally physically for a child or even you when you go thru it.

“What’s wrong” as you looked back while he went from sighing to humming into your neck exhaling your vanilla perfume.”I’m just thinking about so much shit ,right now ,I mean I gotta film even though I don’t want to,we got fans tryna look in the back ground and hear voices and shit to see or hear if they see or hear you to start up some rumors,tsk,it ju-“ .Matt removed his hand from your bump and slouch down on the chair with his head into his palm sighing . “Matt don’t start u finna make me have a headache again and make me test the life of waters ..ok if u don’t stop. ..,baby I know it’s hard but-“. You sighed while cutting your own sentence off reheating Matt food into the microwave,trying to put on a happy face and escape for reality and from Matt negative ass thoughts about all this shit yall got on yall plate .you looked at Matt whom was still rubbing his head stressed about thinking about everything he has to own up too and step up too.”you right baby and you know I just feel like as your man ,I feel like I really have to step up to you and the baby and I know u probably don’t wanna hear this but ,to be honest it kills me that I even got u pregnant”.

A gasps came from your lips as you heard his words , you couldn’t put your finger on it on why he would say such a thing and why it sounded so negative in your head, it sounded so intimate, but also so much of sorrows and regret within his words those words picked at my heart like a tattoo machine needle bad,but good, from gasping from his words, you took the food out the microwave, turning back slowly to look at his face. His face stared at you looking at you intensely wanting to scan your reaction on How you feel about it.”what does that supposed to mean?” ~as you organize the plate trying to make it pretty for him,looking down while thinking what the fuck he meant by that.”I feel guilty,I mean baby if u look at it ,it can go south really fast baby and I know that shit gonna hurt and I know that somebody can die during this and I feel guilty as fuck,it’s not a regrets I just can shake off the feeling of losing you or the baby in the process ,I’m sorry,I’m just fucking stress and wanted to say that baby ,I’ll shut up after this I know u get stress hearing me yap about negative shit,I’m sorry baby. Matt got up and kiss your forehead and peck your lips while quickly kissing your baby bump as well ,all while as he left from the position at the kissing all of the spots that made you happy he went back to his seat, waiting for you to serve his food as you in shocked with upcoming tears filling your waterline.” here’s your food baby .

For a moment, neither of you says anything, the silence thick between you. You can feel his eyes on you, waiting, watching for how you’ll respond, but you don’t look at him just yet. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself.

Finally, you speak, your voice soft but firm. “Matt… I get it. I know you’re scared. Hell, I’m scared too. But… I need you to understand something. Yes, things can go wrong. Yes, there’s a risk. But that’s with anything in life. We can’t let fear rule us.”You pause, gathering your thoughts. “I need you to be strong with me. Because I can’t do this alone. I need you to believe that we can make it through this together, without letting the ‘what ifs’ tear us apart.”His eyes soften at your words, and he reaches out, taking your hand. “I’m sorry, baby,” he says again, quieter this time, but you can hear the sincerity in his voice. “I’ll be here, I promise.”

You give him a small smile, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips, lingering just enough for him to feel the reassurance in it. “I get baby ,I really get it ..and it’s ok -I’m going to take a shower baby eat your food ,” you whisper, pulling back slightly, your thumb brushing gently over his knuckles. “I just need a minute .”Matt nods, understanding, his grip on your hand loosening as you stand up. The soft sounds of Erykah Badu’s “Next Lifetime” float through the room, the soulful melody wrapping around you both, creating a moment of calm after the intense convo. You step into the shower, letting the warm water cascade over your body, the steam rising around you as the soft echo of Erykah Badu’s “Next Lifetime” plays faintly in the background, the notes reverberating off the tiled walls. As you run your hands through your hair, massaging the water into your scalp, you can feel it—that subtle, familiar sensation of being watched. You don’t bother turning around. You know it’s Matt. His eyes are on you, just as they’ve been every time you move, like he’s been starved for your touch, your body. You can feel the weight of his gaze, even through the steam and the sound of water splashing against the shower floor. It’s not uncomfortable, just… different. You know why he’s looking at you like that—four months without sex. Four months since everything shifted. Matt used to touch you with so much hunger, so much need. Sex was always a way to reconnect, to ease the stress when the world outside got too heavy. You’d fight, argue, or just be caught up in life’s chaos, but you knew one thing for sure—he’d always find his way back to you in bed. That was your sanctuary.

But now… now things are different. You’re pregnant, and even though you can feel his desire, you know he’s been holding back. Maybe it’s the stress of it all—his mind is occupied with the baby, with work, with trying to make sure everything’s perfect for the future. But that doesn’t change the fact that you miss him. You miss the closeness, the way he used to worship your body when you needed him the most. As you rinse off the last of the soap, you can’t help but think about how things might’ve been different tonight. In the past, this kind of tension—this stress—would’ve led to make-up sex, to him pulling you close and reminding you just how much he needed you. But tonight, there’s only silence… and his eyes. You shut off the water, stepping out of the shower ,grabbing your towel drying off slowly as you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. You know he’s still out there, still watching, and you wonder if tonight will be the night he finally stops holding back.you let the towel fall as you started to putting up your two pieces sleep clothes which was pink.

Matt is there, sitting on the edge of the bed, his gaze meeting yours immediately. His eyes darken, following the way the fabric clings to your curves, lingering on your baby bump, and then tracing the rest of your body. He’s been waiting, holding back for months, but tonight, something feels different.

He stands up slowly, his movements deliberate, and crosses the room toward you. The music is still playing faintly in the background, but all you can focus on is him—the way his presence fills the space, the way he looks at you with an intensity you haven’t felt in a while.“Come here,” he says, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. He reaches out, his fingers grazing your arm as he pulls you closer to him. The warmth of his hands is comforting, but there’s something more behind it tonight. Something urgent. Something hungry.you look up at him , He smirks, but there’s no humor behind it—just a raw need. His hands slide down your sides, resting on your hips, his thumbs brushing against your skin through the thin fabric. “I’ve been thinking about you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “About us.”You bite your lip, feeling the heat rise between you. “Yeah?”

He nods, his lips hovering near your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “Four months, baby… Four months since I’ve touched you like this.” His voice is a little more serious now, the playful tone gone. “I’ve been trying to be patient, to give you space with the baby and everything, but…”

His hands slide lower, gently pulling you closer until your body is pressed against his. You feel the firmness of his chest, the way his heart beats just a little faster against yours. “But I miss you,” he says softly, his lips grazing the side of your neck. “I miss us. I miss making love to you.”

Your breath hitches as his lips press softly against your neck, trailing down to your collarbone, slow and deliberate. “Matt…” you whisper, but he doesn’t stop. His hands tighten slightly around your waist, holding you close as his lips explore your skin.”I know you’ve been tired and stressed out and I know everything’s different now,” he whispers against your skin. “But I can’t stop thinking about how much I want you. How much I need you.”He pulls back slightly, looking into your eyes, his face serious but full of desire. “I don’t want to hold back anymore, baby. I want you tonight. Only if you’re ready.”

Matt gently wrapped his arms around you from behind as you walked towards the bedroom, his warmth pressing against your back. The soft hum of Erykah Badu’s “Otherside of the Game” filled the room, the familiar melody mixing with the tension of the moment. He had been patient, waiting these past four months, and now, with you nestled comfortably in his embrace, he softly asked for the answer he’d been longing to hear.”I’m been waiting for you Matt but I kinda shy because I’m pregnant and all so I don’t kno-“

Matt cut off your words making shocked at little bit while laying on your back, “I want to make you feel good, to show you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done,” he whispered, his voice warm and reassuring. He leaned in to kiss you, his lips soft and tender, his hands continuing to explore with a deep sense of respect,as he pulled your pink pj pants off and taking off your shirt as you laid back down on the bed letting the moment sink in ,you didn’t even know where to start so you just let him take control.

His gentle touches and tender kisses continued to traverse your body, his hands caressing every curve and line.He paid special attention to your breasts, cupping and squeezing them with reverence before trailing his fingers down your stomach, slowly parting your thighs. Matt looked up at you with devotion as he settled between your parted thighs,which u didn’t wear underwear or a bra. "You deserve to be worshipped, especially now. Let me make it up to you." His hands tenderly caressed your swollen belly,you gasp as your felt cold air hitting you wet cunt , Matt's tongue started to extended, delicately licking through your folds, gathering your arousal before pressing against your clit. He began to lap at your sensitive nub, his tongue swirling and flicking against it as he inhaled your sweet scent. His hands held your thighs apart, keeping you open for his hungry mouth.”you like that ,ma”. As he grunted while your legs tried to close him in ,he pushed them wide open locking you in position to take it.”yes ..d-daddy..ah”~as you gripped the sheets your legs wanting to push him off from the way he lick your sensitive wet cunt . "Fuck, you taste so good, baby," Matt growled against your pussy, his grunts and slurping sounds filling the room as he devours your sensitive flesh. He pushes your legs apart even wider, locking your ankles together to keep them spread, giving him unrestricted access to your dripping wet cunt.”ah..fuck Matt”,as you gripped his hair pushing his head deeper into your soon to be overstimulating wet pu$$y which made his high top model nose rub against you clit nub rough,your legs begin to shake from the pleasure ,the wet slurping noises turn you on ,which made your nipples hard as fuck .Matt's face is buried between your thighs, his nose pressed firmly against your sensitive clit as you grip his hair and push his head deeper.He sucks your clit into his mouth, his tongue lashing at it as he eats you out aggressively, his nose rubbing against your pu$$y lips,side to side ,up and down,all around.

Matt knows just how to push your buttons, and he's determined to make you cum quickly. He doubles his efforts, his tongue fucking your clit as his nose continues to rub against your pussy. He sucks hard on your clit, his mouth making a loud slurping sound as he brings you rapidly towards your climax.”ah..fuck m-Matt,you gone make me cu-“. As you winced

Matt lifts his head, his face shiny with your cum as you convulse beneath him. "Mmm, see,you did good ,baby ," he purrs, cleaning his lips with his thumb before sucking it into his mouth. Matt doesn't give you a chance to catch your breath before he's attacking your tits . He pushes you down onto the bed and starts sucking your tits, one after the other, his mouth making sloppy sounds as he sucks hard on your nipples. “Damn ,Matt I mhm”as you hummed shaking you head side to side .”I know baby ,I know baby ,just take it baby,just let me make you feel good”as he mumbled against your tits going to the other nibbled on the next one flickering fast trying all fast trick to make you cum again.

Matt continues to feast on your tits, his hands roaming over your body as he enjoys the taste of your skin. He lets out a low growl when your hands reach for his belt, but eventually relents, allowing you to unbuckle it and pull down his pants.”what chu tryna do ma,i got you baby”.

“I -I-i wanna please you too baby,I wanna heal you too”.as you whined ,yearning for him ,Matt's eyes flutter closed as you quickly wrap your hand around his thick, hard length and begin to stroke it slowly along with his precum basing it on his tip . "Ma, you don't have to..." he trails off, his words lost as you lean down and take him into your warm, wet mouth. "Oh god, baby..."Matt's whimpers of pleasure fill the air as you spit in your hand and begin to stroke him,leaving your position of blowing him off to a handjob,your hand gliding smoothly up and down his length. He buries his face between your breasts drooling ,licking your tits here and there,muffling his whines as you tighten your grip and pump him faster.”I-i love you baby.you know I fucking love you”as dragging his words into your tits .

You find yourself in so much pleasure,throwing your head back ,rolling your hips as Matt hand went back to your clit as he licked your tits,all while u gave him the best wet handjob.Matt legs begin to shake and so was yours ,it was too much tension the sound of grunts ,groans,moans,whimpering,slurping,suckin,skin slapping filled the air very intensely.you found your self stroking his length faster then every precum mixed with your spit ,stroking fast as Matt was in work with your body as well.”come on baby,I know you wanna cum,let’s cum together,I know can baby,I know”.

Matt's body tenses up as he nears his climax, his hand working your clit furiously as he continues to suck on your tits. The room is filled with the sounds of your pleasure, and Matt's legs shake beneath your touch. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna cum, Ma..."

“Fuck Matt..shit..fuck me”. Matt throws his head back, a deep groan escaping his lips as he finds his release. His body stiffens, his hand pausing on your clit as he has your hot seed onto his hand,he feels your body tense up as you find your own release once more. He pulls away from your chest, watching as you milk him for every last drop.”I love you baby”as Matt peck your lips laying back in the bed breathing heavy.

“Damn how long that erykah badu song was playing”as Matt look at your confused sweaty smiling pulling the hair at your face

“Babe this is the last of the song in my playlist …oh wait nah it’s the ending of the song “as I chuckled loving his embrace

As the Erykah badu -otherside of the game played into the back ground as I hummed the song into Matt neck as he rubbed my belly while laying out.

🎶🎵Oh, go on, go on, go on, yeah

See I ain't tryin' to bind your life

But I want you to do what's right, and yeah

I'm your wife

Peace out to revolution

I know there's confusion

You gonna do what you gotta do now🎶🎵🎶-Otherside of the Game

Song by Erykah Badu

Bye yall me after writing that long ass fic:

#Spotify #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #struniolo #nick sturniolo #xxklut jaycunt

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homosandhomies · 1 year

Text

My favorite solo from each main character on glee (because why not)

SUE: Vogue. “WILL SCHUESTER I HATE YOU”

KURT: Rose’s Turn. Chris Colfer rarely got songs that highlighted ALL his vocal strengths. This song used everything. He had a strong head voice, an amazing mix, and he can EMOTE WITH EVERY INCH OF HIS LIFE. No wonder he got the Golden Globe.

QUINN: This Is A Man’s World. This scene is ridiculous, but out of context the song absolutely slaps. Diana can BELT and she deserved to do it more.

ARTIE: Stronger. Probably my favorite Britney song. Kevin ate. That is all.

PUCK: Only the Good Die Young. This song is so fun and I think Puck’s voice is very underrated. A good ol’ jam. Thank you for repping the Jewish community king ❤️

WILL: Sway. It’s a shame that we never talk about his voice because HOLY SHIT MATTHEW MORRISON IS INCREDIBLE. This man is so talented and we never acknowledge it because of Will Schuester’s shenanigans.

BLAINE: Somewhere Only We Know. You can hate Blaine all you want but you can’t deny the POWER of this song. The love in his eyes is sickening I am not okay right now

FINN: I’ve Gotta Be Me. Given the fact that Cory didn’t have any singing experience before, this song makes me so fucking happy because you can see how much he had grown as a singer, but also how proud he was of himself! Look at him go!!! (Bonus: If I’m bending the rules in terms of what qualifies as a solo I would 100% make his Paradise By the Dashboard Light. That was his undoubtedly his very best vocal performance. It’s SO FUCKING GOOD it makes me go batshit.)

RACHEL: My Man. “She may be difficult but boy can she sing.”

BRITTANY: Run the World. The dancing is definitely the more impressive part of this number, but it still sounds great! This song really highlighted Heather’s strengths, when most of her songs weren’t very memorable in my opinion.

MIKE: Cool. Maybe Tina should be a professional vocal coach because damn look at him go!! Idk why an Asian kid wanted to play the role of a leader of a white supremacist group but at least he sounds great 🤷‍♀️

MERCEDES: I Will Always Love You. Literally every single Mercedes song is perfect, so this was the hardest one for me. This means I had to base it on acting. And she DELIVERS here. It should be illegal to be this talented.

TINA: Because You Loved Me. The fact that this is one of TWO solos that Jenna actually got to finish infuriates me. She was ROBBED because she is an amazing singer.

SANTANA: Nutbush City Limits. LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, MISS NAYA RIVERA. HOLY SHIT. Finn saying before the song, “They say that true divas aren’t really mortal” is so true. This woman was an absolute icon and I will always be blown away by her talent.

JAKE: Let Me Love You (Until You Learn to Love Yourself). It’s so EARNEST and HEARTFELT and Jacob Artist popped off with the acting. And the falsetto!! God it’s just beautiful.

EMMA: Getting Married Today. This is a trio, not a solo, but it’s so fucking good that I HAD to do it. That is literally one of the hardest female songs on Broadway, and for some reason they had Jayma sing it even FASTER than the original version? I can’t imagine the stress of trying to do that, but she was perfect.

SAM: Copacabana. This is just a really fun song! Everyone’s having a good time and Chord sounds amazing.

RYDER: Your Song. This is my favorite Elton John song, and boy was it done justice. The acting is really good in this scene. The mix of anxiety and earnestness coming from Ryder is adorable. He had great chemistry with whoever that girl was. (On a storyline note, I hated how this all developed though. If it had gone my way, Unique would confess it was her, then Ryder would sing this directly to Unique.)

KITTY: Signed, Sealed, Delivered I’m Yours. I just really like this number. Obsessed with Becca’s high notes.

MARLEY: Wrecking Ball. The cheating storyline with Bree was so fucking stupid and shouldn’t have happened. That being said, Melissa ATE what they gave her and left zero crumbs. She really came in like a wrecking ball.

UNIQUE: I Know Where I’ve Been. THIS SONG MAKES ME GO FUCKING CRAZY!!! THE TRANS CHOIR!!!! THE ACTING!!!!! THE FUCKING HIGH NOTE!!!!!! IT’S JUST SO GOOD I CAN’T HANDLE IT!!!!!!! This is the best part of season 6, full stop. THE most underrated Glee song ever. I will not accept criticism towards this opinion.

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materialgworlas · 1 year

Note

Hey Siri how long has it been Sense

Materialgworlas posted

Siri: playing material girls by saucy Santana on Apple Music

Me:pauses music

You get what I’m try to say tho bestie YOU HAVENT GAVE US ANY SAUCE WERES THE SAUCE Please hook a sister up post POST PLEASE

Visitors From The Future- Satoru Gojo x Fem!reader

Synopsis: M kinda loving the whole Y/n gojo roommate canon so imam stick w it for now. SO imagine like u n gojo be arguing again, over sumn domestic like the nasty mf leavin skid marks or smthg😭 AND THENNN yall interrupted by sm1 at the door and its future nanami n yo future kids w gojo (Cuz of some mission into da future that takes place in da past… uh… YK WHAT FUCK THE LOGISTICS MAN JUST ALLOW IT). And gojo be smug as hell cuz he already got a lil crush on u so knowing yall get busy in da future is a major confidence boost.

GOJO AF

And like u in denial cuz u been resisting the urge to jump in this blind mice ahh mf’s bones for AGES

YO MANS😫😫

anddddd u kinda feeling geto rn but yo kids r cute so u aint really complaining. And it’s just future nanami tired as hell cuz yo kids got gojo’s energeticness and ur stubbornness so they can’t be reasoned w😍

pov its bedtime🥰

JORDANA BBG HERE U GOOOOO😁 IM EXPECTING MY COMMISION IN DMS👹👹(yk what im talkin ab)

warning: uh da n-word? sm foul language, the readers black, gojo be simpin then foul at the end, poor suguru just wanted nyash, nanami deserves better than designated nanny AHAH GET IT NANANNY-MI REHEHEHE IM SO FUNNY-

☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

“I SWEAR TO GOD IMMA MURDER THIS FOOL!”

“Eughhhhh it’s not even that bad-“

“WDYM NOT THAT BAD MAN U SHAT UP THE WHOLE KITCHEN!!”

“Mf actin like its on the walls”

“…”

“What-“

“WHO THE FUCKKKK DO U THINK CLEANS THE DAMN APARTMENT GOJO!”

“Gojo?? I thought we were at that ‘Satoru’ level-“

“NIGGA STFU! Yo crusty ahh been fucking up my damn kitchen for WAY too long! Clean yo shit mf, last I checked slavery was over!”

“This is why we should get a maid.”

“WITH WHAT FUNDS!??!?! WE BROKE STUDENTS!”

“phhfft speak for yourself, im loaded.”

“Correction, was loaded. Until yo parents got tired of funding ur dookie lifestyle n cut you off.”

“…”

“reheh, gotcha nigga.”

“Ughhhhh I hate this.”

“Oh and u think I like wasting my breath?? Mf just clean the damn mess you made so ion have to yell.”

“yeah, u only be yelling for Suguru these days...”

“NIGGA WHAT??”

“…” “U WANNA SAY THAT TO MY FACE U POMPOUS CANT DO SHIT LIMP DICCK BEADY EYED FREAKK WITH YO WHITE HAIR GOT U LOOKING LIKE AN OLD ASS EGG HEADED SLENDER MAN! CLEAN YO MAN MESS OR FUCKING LEAVE!” you practically roared, heavily breathing whilst a shocked Gojo stared at your angered form

Great, now you’ve done it

“yk what fuck this shit, I’m heading out.” you huffed before storming off to your room to get changed

You always take things too far, don’t you satoru. And the worst part is I only made that mess cause I was tryna make that weird dish Y/n loves, but I fucked it up n got embarrassed. God I gotta let go of this petty crush, I mean- shes literally hooking up with my best friend, by definition that should make Y/n off limits. But I just… She just so smart n funny n GAHD DAYM THAT ASS PHATT- but all I manage to do is piss her off. EUGH curse these damn feelings! Maybe ill call hoe#2 later to de-stress, she doesn’t mind when I say the wrong name at least-

“You gon get the door or not!?”

Your yell from the other room had broken through Gojo’s thoughts, now aware of the ringing the 6’3 man lumbered to the door

“Oh yeh nanamin-“

“DADDY!”

Gojo’s greeting had been cut off by the shrill of the two young children that clung to Nanami’s frame, eagerly reaching out to touch him. “May we come inside.” The weary blond spoke, waiting patiently for his ‘friend’ to move aside allowing him to enter, the two infants in tow.

“who was at the door-“you padded into the living room, dressed much nicer than before, stopping short seeing your best friend, Nanami, and the two children in his arms. “Mini, who’s black babies are these” you chortled

“MAMA!” The children wailed, squirming hard enough to break free from Nanami’s hold and rush to you.

“The fu-“

“Y/N! no cussing in front of the kids!” Gojo hissed, you rolled your eyes but relented. Turing your attention to the children clinging to your legs

“these babies kidna cute.” You muttered

“I KNOW RIGHT!!” Gojo cooed, tickling the younger girl who let out a happy squeal

“I should hope you find your own children cute.” Nanami said, in his matter of fact tone, as if he aint dropped a phatt ass spoiler in yo lives.

“My own children- huh?”

“Yes, myself, Kasumi and Saku are from the future. They are your children.” Mf dropping bomb after bomb without a second thought THAT’S how tired he is.

OUR WHAT? KIDS? U MEAN I- SHITTT, I have so many questions! When do we get together? Are we still together?? Do we get married?? Wait he said from the future- just how far into the future we talking??? How long I gotta wait to dick Y/n down n make my Gojo army... Saku’s got Y/ns smile and Kasumi got her… well everything. Damn I really lucked out-

So many thoughts in Gojo’s head. Yet all he could muster was,

“Huh… come to think of it you do look a lil older to how I remember.” Trying to keep his composure whilst he did internal backflips

Our kids? You mean me and this dusty- who am I kidding GORGEOUS idiot fuck?? AND I POP OUT TWO OF HIS EGG HEADED BABIES?? I mean, when?? Where?? why?? I mean sure the niggas fine but uh me n Geto kinda… well its complicated. But DAMN if these babies aren’t the cutest lil shit I ever seen. Saku’s got Gojos big ahh blue bug eyes but he makes em work w his brown skin n adorable lil afro… he can’t be more than 6 I’d say. AND OH MY LIFE KASUMI IS ADORABLE EHEHEH, she gets her cuteness from her mama let’s not lie but her beautiful curled her got white locks that fit her so well. Ehehe yk what, I’m not mad.

“Mama, no angy?” Kasumi babbled

“Huh- why would I be angry??”

“C-cause we twied to make (insert favourite food🥰) n-nd made biggggggggggg mess.” Saku said, peering at you with those beautiful blue eyes.

“Dadda’s dia!” Kasumi pointed to Gojo who picked up the happy girl

“Dadda’s what?” he hummed

“SUMI’S RIGHT W-WE ONLY DID IT CAUSE-BECAUSE DADDY SAID YOU’D LIKE IT!”

Gojo rn:🧍🏾‍♀️

“You were tryna make (favourite food)? N made a big mess…” now u aint the brightess when it comes to this shit but even you could connect the dots.

Now the famous Satoru Gojo, strongest sorcerer, was shying away from the knowing look you gave him. his cheeks dusted with an embarrassing amount of pink as he used Kasumi’s chubby body to shield himself.

YOU AF

Your cute lil moment was cut short by Nanami’s haggard snores, the poor man was sprawled on your couch. If it weren’t for his aggressive ass noises, you’d think the mf was dead😭

“Um- er, well they can’t exactly leave until Nanami’s awake…” Gojo started

“True, and it’d be cruel to wake him… he looks so tired.”

“…I guess we’ll have to look after the kids until he wakes up🥳🥳🥳. Oh well, HEY- who wants to teleport to Uncle Suguru n tell him the good news!!”

“Gojo you’re foul-“

“MEEEE!” Saku and Kasumi yelled in unison

“ALRIGHT LETS GO!😁”

GETO WHILE GOJO BE PARADING HIS HAPPY LIL FAMILY ON HIS LAWN

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ik its been a hot minute yall but dw ur warrior @jordanahart been on my ass everyday to post dis 😔✊🏾 1 man army fr

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keef-a-corn · 2 years

Text

Rewatching TFP-

Giving you commentary of episode 6 -Masters and Students.

(I would talk about episodes 1 - 5, except I watched them yesterday and it made me realise that they stress me the hell out. Instead I’m going to cover episodes that don’t stress me out nearly as much)

Also I watch Transformers Prime on Stan (I’m pretty sure Stan is only in Australia, but it’s a streaming service and has every episode of TFP), so if any of these time stamps don’t match up, I’m sorry.

~~~~I begin now~~~~

Not saying much about the first part because it’s pretty much as seen.

*intro*

02:52 - scenes like these where it’s just Ratchet and Optimus cannot be viewed without at least one ‘this is proof their marriage certificate exists’ moments.

03:14 - and there it is. Optimus literally just when ‘mm’ and Ratchet immediately switched up his approach, the second approach worked significantly better.

03:44 - I like how you can tell Optimus has significantly larger strides when running compared to Ratchet. He started off further away, but arrived faster and closer.

04:00 - NOTHING BOILS MY BLOOD MORE THAN WHEN MIKO SAID

‘Whoopsie’ LIKE WHO THE FRAG ARE YOU?! WHERE TF DID MIKO GO?!

04:02 - ‘h-what… in the allspark’. Ratchet pronouncing ‘what’ that way is all the proof that’s needed to come to a conclusion that he’s old. Take that clip outta context and everyone witnessing it will know that he’s closer to his deathbed than a mid-life crisis.

04:15 - Not even close to being an accurate comparison.

04:21 - DAMN RIGHT, RATCHET! THEY ARE MAKING A MESS! MIKO BEING WEIRDLY MESSY WITH THE PAINT, BEE AND RAF TRIGGERING FIGHT OR FLIGHT, JACK AND ARCEE… Being weird- I mean.. for the bots, wouldn’t that be like trying to construct a body?

04:27 - then why did you leave it to the last minute, Raf?.

04:34 - Soooo close, Ratchet, but Bulkhead doesn’t need to know about the solar system to help Miko paint, same with Bee needing to know about Volcanoes to assist in constructing a model like that.

04:33 ~ 04:46 - Optimus just standing but like ‘just gonna let him talk it out’

~sorry, not much to say either~

05:55 - I wanna know what Bee’s saying. It seems interesting!

05:58 - Honestly Raf saying that clues me in even less.

06:05 - OPTIMUS’S HAND ON BEE’S SHOULDERRRRR! It’s so big! Aaaaaa

06:06 - Optimus calling Bee awesome.

Also Optimus confirming Bee’s very young.

06:54 - I really like how Peter pronounces ‘Bumblebee’ in Optimus’s voice. Just makes it sound so regal, then you remember it’s the word ‘Bumblebee’. + Optimus had no reason as to choose Bumblebee (aside from plot), Bulkhead was most likely not needed because we saw Miko’s project was pretty much complete and Jack was most likely the only one that would require assistance from Ratchet as Arcee was clearly no help.

07:07 - damn, those two strong as hell.

07:40 - Gotta keep his Bee safe. + he looks so concerned as he watches Optimus walk away.

07:49- Starscream had a whole choreographed dance for ‘rise and serve’

08:15 - I like Skyquake. What a waste. ALSO HE LOWERS HIS UPPER HALF TO TALK TO STARSCREAM, BUT TECHNICALLY HE IS BOWING!

08:55 - LMAO he really just pushed him away.

09:11 - Aww Bee gotta check on Optimusss

09:39 - Optimus just watching them like: 🧍

09:40 - SLAY, SKYQUAKE!

10:11 - Scraaaaaaaaap I love Soundwave’s designnn (I know he shows up earlier in the ep, it was just at this point that I truly stopped to appreciate them)

10:37 - Bee’s eyes are so interesting.

10:50 - Gotta protecc his faaather.

10:56 - Ayo- Bee- WTF?? He really just tapped into his inner insect abilities.

11:01 - Optimus immediately stepping in when Bumblebee was down *cri*

11:04 - He really just threw Bumblebee.

11:30 - Optimus leans in a bit closer when saying ‘vehicle mode’ to Bumblebee. He doesn’t want Skyquake to hear. And Bee kinda perks up as he realises Optimus is right.

11:52 - Ratchet’s inner goat

12:17 - That’s me doing all the work in science because the rest of my group is an idiot.

13:40 - It took me four rewatches to understand that Soundwave repeats ‘must bear witness’ as a command he’s making.

14:00 - of Agent Fowler didn’t show up in this episode, I bet that Optimus and Bee would’ve benefited greatly.

14:22 - Now that I think about it… odds are, Skyquake isn’t calling Bee ‘bug’ because his name is ‘Bumblebee’, instead it’s more likely he called Bee ‘bug’ because he considers him a small inconvenience that could simply be squished. I feel ashamed that it’s taken me this long.

14:39 - Bee’s face rises ever so slightly- he’s obviously happy, it’s just that I never noticed it.

14:58 - See? He’s distracting the bots and giving Skyquake a vehicle mode.

16:33 - Starscream landing so nicely gives me life.

16:58 - he touched da boob.

17:18 - to disagree~ I’m sorry-

18:34 - Oh that must’ve hurt-

18:39 - Father watches son fly off on plane.

18:41 - Father immediately calls in only air support to retrieve son.

18:53 - Bee showing off his surfer skills, but also that he’s smart by committing mid air murder.

19:01 - whoever chose for Bee to make that sound when plummeting to his death, thank you. You couldn’t have chosen a more perfectly silly sound for this very dangerous situation./g

19:04 - yeas, it is, Fowler, so why are you waiting?

19:12 - Bee showing off perfect coordination abilities

19:40 - Damn- Bee teleports now-

19:56 - Optimus condemning the strategy before praising the performance is very smart. I will not explain further

20:08 - I DON’T CARE WHAT ANYONE SAYS, TO ME, OPTIMUS SMILED WHEN RATCHET GOT EXCITED.

20:49 - if there’s a remote, why does the volcano have buttons?

21:08 - Optimus engages with a joke.. why does no one mention this?!

M’kay, those were my thoughts.

Lemme know if you thought differently/disagree with my points/have more to add.

I like hearing people’s perspectives.

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shreddedparchment · 2 years

Text

Perennial Pt.21

Faith

10/06/2022

Pairing: Bucky x Florist!Reader Word Count: 2,420

Warnings: blood, violence, angst, pining, cuteness, language

Featured Flower: None

A/N: I can’t believe I was able to get this one out tonight. It’s highly unedited. Sorry. I’m still in a lot of pain. Lots going on in my life right now but I want to focus on this chapter. If you read it, let me know what you think and if you enjoyed it! What did you like about it? Distract me, y’all. xoxo

After a few days of Bucky’s absence, you’re worried.

Finally, at the end of the week, he sends you a text.

Bucky: Miss me?

You: Duh! Where are you?

Bucky: Sorry, kid. Better to keep that under wraps until things are done.

You: Which will be when?

Bucky: I don’t know.

You: Bucky…

Bucky: I know, sugar. Trust me.

You: Why did Steve ask me for my keys?

Bucky: He and Tony are checking out the apartment to make sure it’s safe. They’re gonna install a security system. Top of the line. No one is getting anywhere near you again without me and the entire Avengers team knowing.

You: Wouldn’t it be easier to just have you with me all the time?

Bucky: I wanna come home, kid. I’m sorry I didn’t text sooner. And I probably won’t be texting with any more frequency. If anything, you might hear from me less.

You: I know. I’m sorry. I’m just stressed. You just got back and now you’re gone again.

You: Kinda feels like I saw you more before we started dating. Maybe we should break up and then I can see you more?

Bucky: …

You: A joke, you grump.

Bucky: Jokes are supposed to be funny.

You: And a new couple is supposed to be happy. I’m just trying to bring some levity to an inescapable situation, okay? You know damn well that now that I have you there’s no way I’m letting you go. Do you know how long I watched you from afar? Wishing?

There’s a pause and you think he might be done texting but then your phone dings again.

Bucky: When I get home, I’m gonna make sure you know how much I miss you.

You: Sap. You threatening to dick me down?

Bucky: Pfft, do you have to say it like that?!

You: lol How else should I say it? I want you all the time.

Bucky: Nowhere near as much as I want you.

You: Wanna bet?

Bucky: Once your place is done, you need to make sure you stay there from now on. It’ll be safer than mine.

You: Fine. But I’m taking your pillow. And some shirts.

Bucky: Take them. Whatever you need.

Bucky: Shit, I gotta go.

You: Okay. Bye.

Bucky: Love you, kid.

You: I love you. Be safe.

~~~~~~~~~~

Two Months Later

“Wow, apparently the corruption went all the way into the royal family,” Kamala exclaims in quiet awe as she watches the TV you’d installed in the corner of the coffee shop.

Normally you have it set to some relaxing music that you know your flowers enjoy just as much as your coffee patrons, but as you’re closing, you give Kamala reign over the remote.

“Is this what Bucky has been doing?” She wonders, turning to look over at you as you finish counting the money in the till.

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I haven’t heard from him in three weeks. And honestly, he can’t really tell me anything about what he’s doing. Safety and all that shit.”

Kamala shuts the TV off and moves to put the remote in its spot by the register. She’s smirking, her young face full of amusement as she leans against the counter.

“You miss him lots, huh?” She guesses.

You sigh, realizing that the bitterness you’re feeling at his lack of contact is because you truly do miss him more than you ever thought you could. Even when he’d disappeared you hadn’t missed him like this.

Dating him is making things harder.

“So, I guess that means you have no idea when he’ll be home, huh?” She asks, seemingly already knowing the answer from the tone of her voice.

“Nope. Just gotta wait.” It’s the waiting that’s killing you.

Knowing he’s out there somewhere. Knowing that he’s alive and not calling. Not texting.

And he is alive because you won’t let yourself think anything else.

You can hear Kamala talking as you wrap up the profits for the day and slip it into a deposit bag. She follows you as you place it in the safe in your office and make sure it’s locked securely before shutting off the light and getting your bag.

She’s still chirping away about Steve and her trip to the tower as you’re pulling down the metal shutters of your shop. With a sigh, she takes the keys from you and bends down to lock it for you before placing the keys back in your hand.

“You didn’t hear anything I said, did you?” She asks, not really waiting for an answer because she already knows you weren’t focused.

“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, remorse and worry lacing your slight bitterness from before. “I’m just…I want him home.”

Kamala nods, adjusts her bag, and then reaches out to pat your shoulder.

“I have math homework. Bye, boss.”

You watch her turn on her heel and march–well, almost skip–off into the city. “See ya.”

You stare until she’s a small figure in the distance and just as expected, just as Steve said, you see the glimmer of her power shine for a split second before it zips up into the sky above the tall buildings.

She’s still so young and yet she has that much power. Such a heavy burden for such a young girl. Worse that she doesn’t exactly see her gift like the heavy responsibility that it really is.

You can’t blame her. At her age, you’d have probably been just as excited to stretch your muscles and see what you could do had you been gifted with some type of power.

A strange yearning takes hold in your chest as you turn to head up into your building, wishing that you really had been given powers of some kind. At least then you could be with Bucky when he leaves for this long.

You’re so wrapped up in your missing Bucky that you don’t notice the looming figure resting against the wall beside the elevator doors as you exit on the top floor. Your brain, on some level, notices the shape in your periphery, but you don’t turn until the accented voice calls your name.

You freeze, keys clutched more tightly in your fist and turn to look at the familiar Sokovian.

He looks like shit. His hair is a mess sticking up in several directions and laced with grime and some type of sticky clear substance. His long fur lined coat is frayed and torn, smeared with dirt. His pants are no better. The purple mask clutched in his hand is ripped in several places so that if he were to put it one of his eyes would peek out unobstructed, cheekbone and temple too.

“Where is he?” you gasp, unable to catch your breath as your stomach drops and your chest goes cold.

Zemo swallows, pushes off of the wall and approaches you with surprising calm.

“Come,” he urges you and reaches to take hold of your forearm.

You don’t resist as he pulls you back into the elevator and ride it all the way down to the first floor. He steers you towards the back alley exit, releasing your arm when he’s sure you’ll continue to follow him.

Neither of you speak as your hands grow cold and sweaty. Your neck prickles as dread fills your belly and Zemo continues to stalk through the dark city streets.

It’s probably minutes–though it feels like hours–of walking later when Zemo finally stops in front of a rusted warehouse door, his eyes scanning the area quickly before he ducks inside and you match his urgency and shove into the darkness behind him then round him as he shuts out the dim city lights.

You can hear the dust of the abandoned space shift beneath his heavy boots as he walks around you again and when his hand closes around your forearm again you let him pull you along through the darkness.

Silhouettes of broken crates, old metal lockers, warped metal stairs, and the smell of rust surrounds you. There’s a faint dripping somewhere to your left as you pass an open doorway but inside is more darkness that you only glance at as Zemo leads the way.

The heaviness in the air fills your nostrils, the dustmotes kicked up by your feet tickle your nose and you somehow manage to resist sneezing as Zemo stops again, this time a long vertical silver line shines ahead.

He hesitates then after a moment drags you the rest of the way to the silver line which you realize is light seeping through the crack between two large wooden doors.

He knocks and a shift on the other side blocks out the shine for a second, the outline of a masked figure darkens the space before the doors are pulled open.

“What the hell are you doing?” The aggression in the masked man’s voice makes you bristle but you have no time to be offended by the curl of his lip as he watches Zemo and waits for an explanation.

You’re busy devouring the space behind him, the large expanse and the single metal gurney at the center of the empty warehouse where a dark figure lays too still.

“What I promised,” Zemo says.

You see a shine of dark metal on the gurney and your gasp catches in your throat as your eyes sting painfully. Your feet move on their own, dragging you forward into a run towards the figure but before you can even make it three steps a tight grip takes hold on your upper arm and yanks you back roughly.

“Stop,” the helmeted man growls. “What is this?”

“Let me go,” you demand, no fear in your voice. Only anger at being stopped.

“I haven’t put a bullet between your eyes out of respect for the acquaintance we share. If you do not wish to end up on a missing person’s report, I suggest you release the woman.”

Zemo’s threat is real but still the masked man doesn’t let go.

“Walker…” Zemo warns.

Another two seconds pass and you can feel John Walker’s hand slowly loosen. You pull out of his grip and race to the gurney with watering eyes.

“This is an unnecessary risk,” the U.S. Agent says.

“If that were you laying there, he would not have hesitated to bring your wife.”

John makes some type of noise in the back of his throat but doesn’t say anything again.

Bucky looks like shit too. Just like Zemo, only worse. He’s so pale, his lips almost blue in the dim light that filters in from the long line of horizontal windows along the top of the warehouse walls. As coated in dust as they are, it isn’t much.

“Oh my god, Bucky…” you sob quietly, your heart breaking at the cuts to his beautiful face. His right arm is broken and crudely slung across his chest in what looks like torn up old shirts or sheets.

As you explore his body you notice a long gash along his right thigh, a stab wound just underneath his ribs on the right, and his face is black and blue in the spots that are not pale as a ghost.

You sweep his greasy black locks out of his sweaty, dirty face and bite down hard on your lip to keep from crying out.

“What happened?” You ask the two men behind you.

“We were moments from victory,” Zemo begins. “The last of the threat was nearly contained when Barnes noticed the trap set for us. He saved us both with the last moments he had before the bomb went off.”

You sob as your hands flutter pointlessly around his handsome, grimy face.

“When the dust settled,” Walker says, sounding bored by his words as he speaks them. “He was just laying there. Didn’t move. Wouldn’t move. We were able to finish the job but Bucky didn’t and hasn’t woken up in a week. It took us forever to get him back here unconscious and under the radar.”

The way Walker talks about the ordeal of getting Bucky home it sounds as if he’s annoyed by the inconvenience. You almost reach for Bucky’s knife at his hip and throw it at him but resist the urge and instead start rifling through your purse.

“I would have taken him to your apartment,” Zemo says softly. “But we thought perhaps moving him again might do more damage. His pulse is very weak and we’re not sure why he isn’t healing. I think something is suppressing his abilities. Normally I would rejoice in the new possibility of nullifying his type of strength but despite our turbulent history, Barnes is not a bad man. I promised to make certain that you two were reunited.”

Zemo sure did keep his word. Your fingers move at lightning speed through your contacts and you press your phone to your ear as it rings frustratingly slow.

“Who are you calling?” Walker asks, sounding irritated.

“Steve,” you tell them.

“Then this is where I leave you,” Zemo says. “I have kept my word. I hope you find a way to save him. Truly.”

When you turn to thank him for at least making sure you two managed to get back together you find he’s already gone.

Strangely, Walker moves towards you and unholsters the pistol at his hip. He removes the safety and then turns it around to offer you the handle.

“You know how to use one of these, right?”

You nod.

“I can’t be here when they get here. If anyone asks…”

“I get it,” you take the gun, fingers tingling at the powerful weight.

Walker gives you a nod, gives Bucky one last glance, then turns and leaves through the same doors that Zemo had brought you in through.

The phone finally stops ringing and Steve’s sleepy voice calls your name, “What’s wrong?”

“Steve,” you sob loudly finally.

“Where are you? What’s happened?” Steve demands, already breathing hard as you’re sure he’s pulling on his clothes and heading out the door.

“Bucky…” you begin. “Help me, Steve.”

“Turn on your bracelet,” he orders. “We’re on our way.”

The line goes dead and you reach with wobbly fingers to pinch the repaired silver button on your bracelet. It warms under your touch, vibrates once very quickly, and you hope that Steve and the others are fast enough to get here before you fall apart completely.

#bucky x florist!reader #flowershop au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader fanfiction #bucky x you fanfiction #marvel au #avengers au #perennial #perennial pt21

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