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victoria-grimesss · 8 months

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Call the Doctor, I'm in Love

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->Paring: Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish x Medic!Fem!Reader

->Words: 2.9k

->Warning: fluff & angst, mentions of injury/wounds

->Summary: Soap has a big ol crush on you, he’s not sneaky or quiet about it. Here are the many times he’s fantasized about you and the one time you answered his dreams.

->A/N: a little something because I love Foap!

Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish is a pretty guy, a hunk if you will and he knows it. He has no troubles with the ladies and is highly experienced but he always feels like he’s lacking something, someone. Until you came along, pretty new medic. You’re his favorite. He always goes to you for a patch up even waiting for medical help until you come back from break. Johnny is a saint, he is a patient and giving man.

But he wants you, desperately. He’s got a big fat crush and he’s not quiet about it. The 141 is exhausted hearing about what you did today and that Soap thinks you looked dreamy today, stitching up his arm. He saw you look at him a little extra that means you want to be with him right? They can’t wait until you either reject the poor fool or take him on a bloody date. Here are the times poor Mactavish has swooned over you:

The 1st Time: Your Introduction

Soap has found himself head over heels for you. He first saw you in the medical tent after him and an enemy went headfirst over a steep rockwall, he was fine of course, seems like that guy can bounce back from anything, you had nursed him back to health and he was done for. Your caring words and gentle hands were all he wanted now. And imagine his surprise and excitement when you became the team's new task-force medic.

“Alright team I hope you read over the file, we got a new member to our team. She's going to be our medic but don’t worry she can hold our own on the field. She’s reliable and damn good at her job. We’ve had too many close calls lately and I don’t want anyone dying of something that could have been prevented.”

Price ends his introduction and you greet your way around the room, everyone is nice enough for tuff military men. You find yourself sitting next to John, or Soap, or sometimes Johnny depending on who you ask. He’s a good looking guy, as are the rest in the room but you have a job to do so you don’t plan on messing up your place on the team by intermingling with one of them.

“Aye lass, do you carry one of those stethoscope things around with ya?”

He’s leaning on one arm, checking out the equipment you had brought with you.

“I usually keep it in the office, why is something wrong?”

You’re looking him over for anything obvious but nothing sounds any alarm.

“Ah no, it’s just my heart… it’s acting funny, beats a little faster when you come around.”

He’s smiling and you laugh not expecting a bad pick-up line but seems like he’s that kind of guy.

“I see. Well might want to try working on your cardio then that’ll improve that heart rate of yours.”

He pauses, thinking of what to say next to lure you in.

“You like bars doctor?”

“Not particularly..”

“Would ya mind joining me, I hate drinking alone.”

You smile, amused.

“Why not one of the other boys, someone you’re more familiar with.”

You’re looking into your bag and he drops his head lower so you’ll look him in the eyes.

“I’d like to be more familiar with you bonnie.”

You stop and put your hands on your hips pretending to think.

“Well I’m not so interesting, just a doctor after all. I’m sure Gaz would love to join you, you two seem the best of friends.”

He seems a little discouraged when you don’t play into his game but he looks at the small smile that plays on your lips and knows he’s just gotta keep trying. You won’t shake him off that easily.

—

The 2nd Time: The Flu Incident

Flu season. Your favorite time of the year, your inner monologue drips with sarcasm as you scrub your hands raw for the sixth time today. It’s late afternoon and the sun dips over the horizon as the rooms are casted with a honey soaked orange glow. The murmurs from the outside hallway peak your interest and you dry your hands and exit to the hall.

“I told you MacTavish I can help you just as easily as any other nurse or doctor, just come into my office and we’ll get you fixed up.”

An older more seasoned nurse has her hands on her hips, gaze pointed at Soap with a motherly disapproved look at her face. You step out of the room tossing the paper towel into the bin.

“Troubled patient?”

Soap lifts his head at your voice and he smiles, voice nasally and strained.

“Ah there ya are bonnie, been waiting for you. Think you can fix me?”

“You’d be in better hands with her you know? Unlike me she knows what she’s doing.”

Your tone is playful and Johnny stands weakly, hand on the wall.

“Yea but you’re my favorite, can’t feel better unless it’s you.”

The other nurse is called away shooting you a good luck look with her eyes, no doubt happy to not have to deal with the sickly man.

“Alright Johnny whatever you say. Let’s get you to a bed.”

“You’re a real saint hen.”

You place a steady hand on his back leading him to the bed in your office, away from the overflow so he can hopefully get some rest.

“Alright Johnny go ahead and lay down I’ll get your temp and let’s see if we can break that fever alright?”

He groans as he lays down obviously dealing with joint pain from the flu, it’s a nasty one that’s hit the base this time.

You run a washcloth under cool water, grab your thermometer, and sit next to him making sure he’s comfortable. You take his temp and frown,

“Give it to me straight doctor, am I going to make it?”

He grips your hand dramatically and you laugh while patting his hand.

“I think you’ll just scrape by, it’ll be close though.”

“Oh thank heavens. Guess you’ll just have to take extra close care of me right?”

He’s giving you those stupid puppy dog eyes again as you place the washcloth on his forehead and place the back of your hand on his cheek to feel the temp there as well.

“I guess since I’m part of your team now I’ll have to make sure you live, so yes. I will take extra good care of you.”

You smile at him softly, you don’t like seeing anyone sick but sick Soap reminds you of a kicked puppy.

You miss the way his eyes shine up at you as you chart his info. How the thoughts in his head are those of you and him on dates, what ring he will propose to you with, where you’ll honeymoon and various other daydreams he has swirling around. He would do anything for you to be his, he would capture the stars for you.

You get up from your chair to put his info into the computer and he looks at the sad flowers on the side table, shriveled and needing to be tossed.

“These flowers aren't lookin so good.”

You glance over and frown.

“Oh yeah, it’s been so busy lately I haven't had a chance to replace them yet.”

He hums and you walk back over to him and give him some painkillers and electrolyte drink mix.

“Take these and get some rest please, it’ll do you good.”

He sits up, eyes on you as he takes the pills, handing you the little cup back.

“I’ll get you some new flowers, take you out too.”

You’re facing away from him, a smile gracing your features.

“Johnny, I-”

“You don’t have to say yes now lass, just please, for the sake of my well-being think on it.”

You move over to him and dab the cloth onto his cheeks and cool down his pulse points, heart growing slightly as you reply.

“Sure Johnny, I’ll think about it. Now sleep, doctor's orders.”

He sleeps quietly next to you as you finish your charting. The sight of him so calm warms your heart and it scares you a little bit, you wouldn't want to throw off the balance of the team or make any weird power dynamics by falling for him but he makes it harder and harder.

The next week fresh flowers are left on the side table.

—

The 3rd Time: Award Ceremony Ball

Dressed to the nines each of you are. A very successful mission rewarded the whole team with a variety of medals and everyone was looking very nice all cleaned up.

Your dress was a floor gown with a slip up the leg and your back was exposed, the dress felt so silky and it was nice to not be covered in blood for once. Although you did manage to spill some kind of fancy jam on it and you were frantically dabbing at it with water when you were interrupted with Soap meeting up with you.

“Well don’t you look nice.”

He’s lively tonight, eyes bright with optimism after the job and sporting brand new chest candy to show off.

Your eyes drift up from the new stain on your dress to him and he, well he looks damn good. A new pink scar graces his jawline but it looks good on him, he can wear scars well.

“Thank you, you clean up well yourself too.”

“Ah bonnie don’t make me blush now.”

The rest of the team is chatting at a nearby table, Price is nursing a short glass of something dark, Gaz is going to town on the amazing food, and Ghost is engaged in conversation with the two of them.

“You wanna head back to the table?”

You offer, he shakes his head and offers his hand.

“I ask the fine lady to a dance.”

You blush, never asked to dance before, the ballroom floor filled with experts, couples swirling to the melody in the air.

You stew on it for a moment, and put your hand in his.

“Ok but if I fall you fall with me okay?”

“Always.”

Your hands are intertwined, one of his is on your waist and yours is on his shoulder. You both try to copy what the others do and the messy dance combined with the flutes of champagne you both consumed makes for quite the site. The mess of bumping feet and unsteady movements.

“For a sergeant you’re rather uncoordinated MacTavish.” Your laugh is light.

“I didn��t go to fuckin dance school, certainly didn’t learn this in the marines that’s for sure. What, did they teach this in medical school?”

“Does it look like they did? I can stitch up a bullet wound but lord help me I can't dance for shit.”

You bump into him again and his grip tightens slightly.

“I got ya bonnie.”

He could be living in a dream right now, you in such a pretty dress adorned in your well deserved medals, him with his. You’re gripping his shoulder and he’s got you in his arms, he can smell your perfume and see the small hairs out of place as the two of you spin but he loves it all the same. He wants it all the same.

“Johnny. Can you hear me?”

He blinks harshly, really sinking back in. You’re not his right now, he can’t take you back to his place after this and kiss each part of you, unzip the dress and let his fingers graze over the skin that's revealed to him. Watch how you move under the moonlight as he touches you just as he imagined. Not yet.

“Yea?”

“I said I think Gaz just devoured his fourth bowl of that dip I wanted to try.”

“Must be good then, should we head over before he finishes it all?”

You laugh and agree.

“Thank you for the dance MacTavish, you made me feel less silly for not knowing what I’m doing.”

His eyes sparkle at your admiration.

“I’m always happy to help.”

—

The 4th Time: Yes

This mission could not have been more fucked up. Shrapnel flies and bullets whiz by. The air is cold but your body is so hot, on fire from the adrenaline.

The coms are staticy and choppy but you can make out the team.

An undercover mission with Soap had you outside a pretty nice villa at dusk. It was meant to pose as a couple on a retreat to gain intel from an organization nearby but all hell had broken loose. You're cornered and Soap had been down to three bullets and you at two until you were able to take down someone else and gain the upper hand.

Communication with the team was hard, they had sent for backup now you just had to wait.

And Soap is shot.

He has taken a bullet for you and you’re frantic.

“Fuck Johnny, shit.”

He grimaces as you rip your bag off of your back to grab for first aid. It’s not enough though, you had to pack light and it’s not enough.

“Stupid ass job, told them to find a way to get more equipment.”

You’re more muttering to yourself, ripping things out of the small bag you were allotted to patch him up.

“You’re cute when you’re frustrated.”

Johnny laughs and it sends him into a coughing fit, the bullet is in his side. You pray it hasn't done permanent damage but the gravel in his cough scares the hell out of you.

“Hold on Johnny, I’m gonna get you fixed up alright, just stay still.”

A bullet nearly misses your head and he shoots back hitting the guy before clutching his side again.

“You think that’s all of them?”

“Fucking hope so, I need- I have to clean it.”

He’s strong, so strong and sweet and kind and nice and charming and you can’t lose him.

Not when you know you want him now. That you need him now.

“Gonna lift your shirt ok? Just watch your breathing.”

“Aye, not even going to take me to dinner first.”

Your eyes are blurry as tears slip down, first one the two.

He wipes them away, his blood smearing onto your face and you choke back a sob.

“C’mon bonnie, don't cry. I hate seeing you cry.”

His voice grows weaker the more he speaks and you beg him to stop, but he rambles.

He talks about how each morning he wakes up to see if you’re up yet. He waits for you at the gym, always goes to you when he feels unwell, gushes to the rest of the team about you when you’re not around.

He flirts openly with you and what a fool you’ve been to not reciprocate fully, to reel into him.

The needle breaks his skin and his eyes grow heavy, the blood is still flowing freely and you almost feel it rushing out of you as well.

“I’m so sorry Johnny.”

You stitch and wipe and repeat. It’s a gaping wound and it makes you sick seeing it on him.

You’re so focused on stitching him you don’t notice when his eyes close. His breathing is shallower now.

Your eyes race around his face, head now slumped to the side.

You wipe the wound, it’s not good but it should be ok. Heavy on should.

Your hand, coated in blood cups his cheek, shaking.

“Johnny?”

You move his head, it's heavy in your hands and your breathing hurts now.

You get closer, enough to press his forehead to yours and you inhale his smell.

You hold cloth to his wound to try to stop the bleeding and you whisper promises to him if he will just pull through.

Your lips are so close to his that when your tears roll down your face they roll off your nose onto his lips.

The hand that cups his cheek feels his pulse on his neck and it’s quiet and slow. It’s so silent here now.

“I’m so sorry Johnny. I love you. Fuck I love you so much I just didn’t want to mess anything up. Please don’t leave yet.

You lips touch his softly, like if you pressed any harder he would shatter.

“Could have- could have told me all that before I was dying yea?”

He laughs weakly, his smile cracking the corner of his lips. You cup his face fully now, careful to remove your hand from the wound but you applied enough pressure by now the blood has coagulated some.

“You mean all that?” His eyes are heavy but he still looks at you with that same shining he always did.

“Yes, god yes. I just didn't want to mess up the team dynamic but I don’t care anymore, you just have to pull through alright then let's go out.”

“I like the sound of that.”

Blades of the helicopter sound nearby cutting through the silence.

“Just hold on Johnny we’re gonna get you patched up. Then I want to see you in that suit again.”

“Anything for you bonnie.”

—

He recovered well with you by his side of course. You dressed his wound properly and gave him a kiss to make it heal faster he would say. Then two weeks later he showed up in a suit with flowers at your office door. The rest is history, but the team is much happier not listening to Soap’s rambling about you but they are happy nonetheless.

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rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me · 1 year

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HIII could you write what the boys would be like when they r jealous if you haven’t already please? <3

A/N: This was wayyyyy too much fun. Thanks for the request!

DARRY CURTIS

Darry’s a grown man, too mature for jealousy! But he still gets a little jealous because I say so <3

It’s mostly around his college buddies and the older boys in the gang who sometimes like to make moves just to upset Darry

But Dare trusts you, y’know? If you guys are going steady, he knows you only have eyes for him and he really only has eyes for you

Jealous!Darry though, that means he’s gotta have his hands on you in some way or another, Jealous!Darry wants nothing more to be touching you and he’s gonna get what he wants, believe you me

Hand on your hip, fingers tangled with yours, pulling you back into his chest, you’ve gotta be close to him and he’s gonna make sure of it

Darry will be a little snippy with whoever’s taken to making moves on you, glaring a little bit and using his size for intimidation purposes <3

SODAPOP CURTIS

Sodapop, my love. My little Sodapop. Darling little Sodapop Curtis. No-thoughts-in-his-head Sodapop

I don’t think he’s get jealous, I think he’d just get a little sad, I don’t think he’s capable of real jealousy

I think Sodapop has a lot of inadequacy issues? He knows he’s pretty, but I think he struggles a lot with feeling wanted and needed

So if someone’s trying to hit you up, Sodapop might step between you guys and try to break it up, but he’d be a little sad, wondering if you’d rather be with them than him

If he’s jealous, he gets kind of pouty and sad, and he might pull back from you, try to prevent himself from being hurt

I just don’t think he’s one of those big, loud, aggressive people when he’s jealous, I really can’t see Sodapop as being one of those people

PONYBOY CURTIS

Ehhhhhh, I’m torn on this one, I don’t know if I see Ponyboy as being one of those clearly obvious jealous people, but I can see him getting into a fight with you over something that has to do with his jealousy

Like- if he sees somebody who’s flirting with you and he doesn’t see you try and get out of the situation, he might be a little upset and get a little snippy with you

He’s not really trying to be an asshole to you, he’s just upset and his emotions tend to come out through his words instead of his fists

But at the same time, Ponyboy’s definitely got some of that greaser fire in him though, so I can really see him getting into an argument with someone who may not be leaving you alone

He’ll tell somebody to back off, do a little chest puffing before looking back at you to make sure you’re alright and okay-

He’s not to kind of guy who gets jealous though and immediately tries to make out with you in the middle of a crowded space, I hope I’ve managed to convey that to you guys

DALLAS WINSTON

Dally Winston is one of the most jealous people you will ever meet in your life and I promise you that, I would bet my whole life on that

He’s loud and can be sort of mean and crass when he’s jealous, both in your favor and not, so just be warned-

You’re gonna get in a lot of fights because of his jealousy, I just don’t know what else to tell you, he’s super stubborn

Most likely to try and make out with you because he’s jealous and most likely to try and make moves on you because he’s jealous

Will slip a hand into your pocket and keep a hand on your ass while he stares down whatever idiot thought they could talk to you

He makes it known very fast, whether through a fight or through multiple verbal threats, that whoever decides it’s a good decision to mess with his doll, will have to deal with the wrath of Winston

JOHNNY CADE

I don’t think Johnny gets jealous too often? I don’t see him as being the jealous type, I don’t think he’d notice if you were trying to make him jealous either

Like- I don’t think Johnny is on the same level of jealous as Curly Shepard is, but I do think that he can be a little jealous, especially when it comes to the rest of the boys in the gang

I got an ask about how Johnny would react if reader was bonding a lot with Ponyboy over a book though, and I think that’s a really good plotline to follow to feature some jealous Johnny

Johnny’s not going to be jealous in that situation ^^ unless he starts to see Ponyboy making moves on you, and let’s be real, would Ponyboy really do that?

Johnny would just try and join you, learning about your favorite things so that you’ll talk with him more and not just Ponyboy

I just really can’t see him freaking out over it though, he’s protective, not jealous, so I think that’s a fine line that’s really important to define

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

Happy go lucky Two-Bit doesn’t get jealous often, but I can see it happening every so often, especially if you guys go out to a party and he has a few to drink

Will mostly likely end up in a fight, especially if whoever’s hitting on you doesn’t back off when Two-Bit tells them to get lost

But then again, I can totally see Two pulling you away, claiming he needs to show you something or that he wants to dance and just tugging you away from whoever he no longer wants to deal with

I don’t see you guys fighting? I don’t think Two-Bit would start fights over being jealous unless you were actively doing stuff that made him jealous

Like- if you’re actively flirting with somebody else to try and make him jealous? You have to assume that he’s gonna be upset, that’s not really a nice thing to do

But I can’t see him being mad at you if he’s jealous because of somebody else, I don’t see him being mean when jealous like Dallas would be

STEVE RANDLE

Steve can get a little jealous, I’m not gonna lie to you guys, he’s very protective over you

I think it’s better with the boys? Specifically with Sodapop, but if Dally’s flirting with you, Steve-o’s not afraid to punch him in his yankee face

Jealous Steve gets to be a little pouty and a little needy and, of course, just a little touchy because you can’t look at him and tell me I’m wrong

He’s kissing you, more than what is considered decent, if the opportunity arises and he’s feeling jealous, he thinks it’s a nice way to gain your attention back

Call him a few pet names if he’s upset or literally just hold his face and make him look at you until he calms down, the method is foolproof

He’s a simple boy, he’s gets a little jealous sometimes, all you gotta do is give him some attention and he’ll be right as rain in no time

TIM SHEPARD

Hoo boy, jealous Tim Shepard, more likely than you’d think, he can be just as bad as his younger brother

He can be mean, but like Two-Bit, his meanness won’t be directed at you unless the situation sort of calls for it

Whoever’s made the bad decision to advance on you will have to face big bad Tim Shepard and try and hold their own against his snarls and threats

Jealous Tim is either a handsy Tim or an aloof Tim, there is little to no in between in that situation-

Handsy Tim means he’s keeping contact with you, slipping a hand in your pocket or tracing the seams of your jeans, pushing the line as much as he can before he gets told to stop

Aloof Tim just means he’s having a little self doubt, a little hesitancy because maybe you’d rather be with that other guy, maybe he’s not good enough for you

CURLY SHEPARD

Curly Shepard? Jealous? Every single day of his life, my dear friends, this boy is incredibly, incredibly jealous

You look at somebody else? Talk about somebody else? Listen to someone else? Stand next to someone else?

Curly is pouting and whining, grumbling and complaining because you’re not paying enough attention to him and he’s not pleased

I’m not even joking, it’s literally the smallest things that will set Curly off and once he’s jealous, everyone is going to have to deal with it because he is certainly not afraid to hide

If it gets to that point, Curly is not afraid to throw fists to get your attention back on you and take care of whoever’s decided to talk with you, Curly just likes to use his fists

If you’re bothered by this behavior, I really don’t suggest going with Curly, it’s just the way he is and I doubt he’s gonna change anytime soon

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imfinereallyy · 11 months

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Shared Kisses

for @steddie-week I’m behind on it but I couldn’t resist day 3, and it’s a little late because I fell asleep while writing it, that's how sleep deprived I am haha. prompt: first kiss

“Okay, okay! It's my turn now. Sir Steven, Lady Birdie, tell me, who was your first kiss?” Eddie giggles from his spot on the carpet. He smells like stale menthols and pine; Steve can’t get enough of it. He has to resist from leaning his head into Eddie and taking a breath of him.

Steve is starting to believe he needs his head checked. Again. Wanting to smell one of his friend's necks isn't normal.

Steve is also starting to realize that maybe that is because he wants to be more than friends. God, he is such a loser sometimes.

“Oh, this is unfair! You know the rules state that we can’t ask it back now. Boooo.” Robin chants from her place on the couch, where she hangs upside down. Steve is for once glad they aren’t playing a drinking game; he is sure Robin would have vomited by now otherwise.

“I still think this a weird game to be playing.” Steve dodges the question and nudges Eddie with his knee.

“C’mon Harrington, questions is an absolute solid getting-to-know-you game.” Eddie nudged his knee back.

“Dude we’ve been friends for six months.”

“Yes but there are so many layers I have yet to peel.”

Robin grunts from her upside-down position, Steve can tell all the blood has finally rushed to her head, and she tumbles onto the ground next to them. “Gotta agree with Metal Man here, Steve-o. I’ve known you even longer, and I still don’t know everything. And we are practically connected.

Steve blows air from his lips, “So this is just a ploy to expose all my secrets.”

Steve can tell that Robin, who might as well share a soul with him at this point, can sense how uncomfortable he is beginning to feel. Her teasing softens for a moment. “What if I went first, yeah?”

Steve pauses, “Yeah okay.”

“You got to promise not to make fun of me.”

“Of course, Robs.”

“I make no such promises.” Eddie interrupts but ultimately cuts the tension in the room. Steve kind of feels like it is on purpose, by the way his eyes skim Steve carefully, and the way Robin lets out a loud snort.

“Wasn’t talking to you doofus. I don’t actually respect your opinion of me.”

“Hey!” Eddie protests, but they all know he isn’t really offended.

Robin chuckles lightly, but continues. “It was in middle school, at one of my first girl-boy parties; gross, right? I hate that we called it those. Anyway. They decide to play spin the bottle, and I feel pressure because my only friend at the time is Barb, and she didn’t come and Colleen Walsh is doing it, and she—well, she’s the prettiest, most popular girl in school at the time and I’d be an idiot not to follow along. So we’re playing Spin the Bottle, right? And rounds go by, and it doesn’t land on me, and I’m grateful but Colleen notices. She goads me on to do it, take a spin since it isn’t fair I haven’t kissed anyone. So, wanting to get over being the center of attention, I reach over and spin it, and it lands on—“

“Wait.” Steve stops Robin, realizing she is about to out herself to Eddie on Steve’s behalf. He doesn’t want her to do that but on anything but her own terms. “Are you sure about this, Robs?”

Robin throws her head back and laughs, “Yea, I’m sure dingus. No need to worry. Anyway, you’ll never believe who it lands on.”

Eddie wiggles his eyebrows, “C’mon buck don’t leave us hanging.”

“Tommy Hagan.”

Eddie and Steve both start choking on air while Steve screams, “What!?!”

Eddie collapses on the ground with a dramatic groan, covering his face with his hands and mumbling, “why cruel world?” Robin giggles at his antics.

“You’re telling me it wasn’t….?” Steve trails off, hoping Robin gets the hint.

“That it wasn’t a girl? No dingus, just because I’m a lesbian doesn’t mean all my experiences are with women. Besides, I was 12; I didn’t realize staring at Colleen’s boobs wasn’t jealousy.”

“Oh, thank god, you know; I thought I was going to have to break the news to you that your gayer than the men’s locker room after a winning game,” Eddie mumbles behind his hands still on the ground.

“Only you would make a sports reference in relation to gayness, Eds. Also, wait, you knew she was lesbian? How did you know? Why are you freaking out then?” Steve rapid fires questions.

Still covered with his hands, “Like seeks like, Harrington. It’s like a sixth sense.”

Steve’s mouth goes dry, “You’re gay?” He says hopefully.

Eddie finally removes his hands from his face but doesn’t sit up. “Yea, Stevie, thought you knew, honestly. Not like it’s a secret, all of Hawkins talks about it.”

“I try not to listen to the rumor mill.”

A soft smile graces Eddie’s face, “One of the many things I love about you sweetheart.”

Steve tries not to blush, but ultimately fails. “Still doesn’t explain why you’re freaking out about Tommy. Sure, he sucks, but like I reacted that way cause I was friends with him at some point. What’s you’re excuse?”

Finally Eddie sits up with a groan. “Okay, promise not to laugh or freak out?”

Robin and Steve both nod and mumble a little “yea of course”.

Eddie rubs a hand down his face, “Okay, I freaked out because even though it’s not my turn to answer and I don’t have to, well—it’s because. Okay, I’m stalling; it’s because Tommy Hagan was also my first kiss. When I was 15, under the bleachers.”

Robin and Steve are both silent, Eddie looks at them expectantly. “Are you guys going to say anything?”

Robin speaks up first, “I think this is the closest we can get to not freaking out.”

“I think I would prefer that over the freaky twin silence.”

Steve still stays quiet while Robin proceeds to react, “Oh my god Munson! This is the funniest and freakiest thing ever. And not in a freak way you like! This is magnificent, oh my god….” Robin continues to cackle and make fun of Eddie, but Steve tunes it out. He can feel all the blood rush to his ears, blocking out all the sound from the room. Tommy. Tommy. He has kissed both of his best friends, one of which he wants to kiss himself. That just seems unfair to Steve. It hurts Steve, and he doesn’t know why. Actually, he knows precisely why.

“My first kiss was when I was 13,” Steve says abruptly, not making eye contact. The both of them stop their bickering and turn to Steve. They stay silent, as if they know Steve needs it to get through it. He is thankful for them both.

“I was 13, and my parents weren’t home. It had become the usual at this point, but I was sad because it was my birthday, and this was the first birthday they didn’t even send a card. And Tommy decided to come over to cheer me up; this was back, I guess, when he still cared too. And we didn’t do much; I didn’t like to make a big fuss about my birthday even then, but it was a nice night out just before the break of summer. So we decided to stargaze on the roof. And I don’t know how it happened, but one second we’re trying to find the Little Dipper, and the next, Tommy is kissing me. It was nice, honestly. To have someone you care about show you affection. And when he pulled away, I smiled at him, but he just stared. And then—“ Steve swallows thickly before looking up at Eddie and Robin, who both look at him with rapt attention.

“Then his face turns angry, and he punches me. He punches me so hard that I almost fall off the roof. He tells me not to be a queer, and if I told anyone, who would tell everyone what I was. And it seemed unfair, right? Because he kissed me, I only smiled. I haven’t kissed a boy since.”

Suddenly there is an arm around his shoulder, “Stevie….” Eddie tucks Steve’s head into the crook of his neck, and Steve begins to sob.

Robin quietly gets up, “I’m going to make us some tea.” Steve knows she can sense that he needs a moment with Eddie. Steve loves her more than life.

“I’m sorry this is stupid. I don’t even know why I’m crying.”

Eddie rubs soft circles on his back, “It’s not stupid, honey. He hurt you in more ways than one, and traumatized you from exploring yourself. You have every right to be upset. Thank you for telling us. You didn’t—you didn’t have to. You could have lied, or told us your first kiss with a girl.—“

“Colleen Walsh.” Steve interrupts into Eddie’s neck.

Eddie barks out a laugh, “Of course it was. Anyway, Steve, thank you for sharing. I’m glad you feel safe with us.”

Steve’s tears are no longer. “I always feel safe with you, Eds.” And the Steve finally does the thing he’s been wanting to do all night. He takes a big sniff of Eddie. Steve doesn’t care if it’s weird because he settles a sort of calm in him.

Eddie grips his waist tight, and puts a finger under Steve’s chin, pulling his face close to his own. “Yea, I do? Does that mean you also trust me?”

Steve can feel Eddie’s breath on his lips. He knows it’s probably not good how quickly his mood has changed, but he can’t find it in himself to care. The air between them is electric, and intense. Steve can feel it make his whole body come alive. “Of course I do.”

Eddie leans even closer, “Good. Because I think it’s a damn shame a pretty boy like you hasn’t kissed another boy since.” Then Eddie presses their lips together.

Steve isn’t sure if someone were to ask what his first kiss with Eddie was like if he would be able to answer. It’s indescribable; it’s perfect. But if he is to try, it would be this, soft, slow, deep, and oh so very good. Steve can feel the heat from Eddie’s lips pulsing into his own. Eddie’s hands' grip Steve’s face, angling him deeper as he slides his tongue into his mouth. Steve pulls him closer by his t-shirt. Going crazy off the taste of salt and chocolate that now swipes his tongue.

They both pull back a little breathlessly, hands still gripping each other. They lean their foreheads together, and Steve smiles. He smiles so big his face hurts. And Eddie does the most thing in return,

He smiles back.

The moment is broken, though, when Robin enters the room again with a bowl of popcorn and a loud “Oh thank god, I was sick of the pining. From both of you.”

Eddie sputters while Steve just laughs at her. “I thought you were making tea Birdie?”

Robin sits down next to them again, “Too much work and I was snacky.”

Steve throws popcorn at her head but isn’t upset at all. He leans his head on Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie kisses the top of Steve’s head.

Robin smiles fondly at them. Then her face scrunches up in pain, “Wait, all of our first kisses was Tommy Hagan?”

“Yep.”

“Unfortunately so.”

“God I do not want to give that twerp any more credit in life than I have to. Why are we all like this?”

Steve giggles while Eddie shrugs.

Robin can’t keep a straight face anymore and falls into laughter. “Wait, does this mean we are all bounded by this? I completely unrelated, non-upside down experience?”

Eddie speaks up before Steve, “I believe so, Lady Buckley. A trauma outside of other worlds binds us. We have been bound since before the slain of Vecna.”

Robin shrieks, “Awee, guys! We were always meant to meet then.”

Then Robin tackles the both of them to the ground in a bear hug. Steve’s not even mad that she’s in the middle of Eddie and him.

Because this, right here, is all the love he’ll ever need.

***

I'm behind on steddie week, but I want to throw my hat in the ring. Have a written a first kiss thing before? Yes I have. But I can’t resist. Thank for the read, love this community so much.

#steddie #steddieweek2023 #Steve Harrington #platonic stobin #robin buckley #Eddie Munson #bisexual steve harrington #gay eddie munson #steddieweek #stranger things #first kiss

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melehound · 8 months

Text

141 + König catch you staring! GN READER!

Cw: a little cursing I got a little mess with this one 💀

Kyle “gaz” garrick

He’s so cocky 🙄

He thinks his physique is very impressive and he works out a lot (every time he sees a mirror he stands in front of it flexing and checking himself out for 5 straight minutes 💀) so when he catches you staring he feels validated

The second he catches you staring he can’t help but smile like a dork

After that he starts snapping you those shirtless pics in front of his mirror randomly like “whoops didn’t mean to send those to you my bad lol haha 😛” like mf yes you did 💀

John price

He does it on purpose he’s been doing it since you met him he just looks at you to make SURE your watching and then will start working out (he has a makeshift gym in his cold ass basement)

If your in a relationship with him you always know where to find him if he’s not in the bathroom manscaping he’s in his cold ass basement working his ass off

He likes when you watch him work out it makes him feel great about himself and he’ll say something like “I’ve still got it, yeah?” When he catches you staring

John “soap” mactavish

Turns it into a full flexing contest with himself he turns you into his mirror

He really likes to work out he’s not like a gym bro or anything but he likes it enough to do it outside of work biweekly

Sometimes before you pick him up from work he’ll be all sweaty because he wants to take a shower with you after working out but he’s a big fan of sending you shirtless pics with 0 context or warning

You can be in the middle of cooking dinner and he’ll send you like 5 different pictures of him flexing and posing in the gym mirror for absolutely no reason

Simon “ghost” Riley

Genuinely either didn’t know that you stare or he’s doing all this physical stuff in front of you on purpose it could be a mood thing

Like if you walk in on him lifting he’s not worried about you looking but if you were to be hanging out with him and THEN he’d start working out then that’s a sign he wants to see if you’ll stare but it looks like hes the one staring and he’s still wearing his mask so it’s so obvious when he’s staring 👁👁

He’s scaring you a lil bit it turns into a little bit of a staring contest (he almost drops a weight on his foot because he’s not paying attention)

After that he’d try and do what gaz did but he’s a little worried because his old broken decrepit ass phone has such shitty quality but somehow you can see all the scars on his ribs and torso so when he takes shirtless pictures he looks like a red room victim

König

He also takes so much pride in his body type it makes him feel more confident sometimes he thinks his physique is slipping because of how much he likes to eat

So when he catches you staring he gets a little burst of confidence and maybe he’ll flex at you a little bit MAYBE

But most of his happiness is inward he thinks about it before he goes to sleep that night smiling kicking his feet like a teenage boy and he tried to send you shirtless pics on snap but he was sweating his ass off and his hands were all wet and he chickened out

((✿: “she’s gotta be running out of cute hello kitty stuffed animal headers!” think again mfs))

#cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #könig x reader #simon riley x you #john price x reader #cod headcanons #kyle gaz garrick x reader #141 headcanons #john soap mctavish x reader

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munsoninthedark86 · 11 months

Text

She Bop(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

warnings: mutual masturbation, some dirty talk, slight Sub!Eddie, unprotected sex, mentions of smoking, creampie.

word count: 1.06k

pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

“Just like that baby, keep touching yourself.” Eddie says, biting his lip.

He never would have thought you’d be on his bed, touching yourself while wearing his Hellfire shirt. He just wished he could take a video of you like this. Your fingers keep dipping down to your wet hole, teasing yourself and moaning his name.

“I’m so fucking hard, baby. You’re too good for me,” His breath is warm on your face. Your eyes snap open and you smirk when you watch him admiring you.

“What did I say about talking about yourself like that?” You ask him, and he shyly looks away.

You pull your fingers from your slick, and you bring them to his lips. You only utter a single word. “Suck,”

Eddie knows better than to disobey you. You’re everything he’s dreamed of and more. Your voice is like the sweetest song he’s ever heard in his life. But those damn moans, fuck, it makes his cock ache more than anything. You’re better than anything he’s ever seen in a magazine or on some VHS he and his friends found.

His lips wrap around your wet fingers and he eagerly sucks on them. His cock throbs in his boxers when he tastes those sweet juices of yours. He could drink you up all the time and never get tired of it. He moans loudly, still sucking until he can’t taste you anymore.

“Such a good boy,” You praise him. Your fingers run through his hair before you tug him closer to kiss him.

You’ve always craved kissing him and tasting yourself on those pretty lips of his. When you pull away, you notice how he’s squirming on the bed a little bit more. You love to tease him, and this is no exception.

“Show me how you like to get yourself off, baby.” You command, and Eddie swallows hard.

His hands fumble with the waistband of his boxers. His face heats up when he realizes just what you’re asking him to do. Your hands return to your wet pussy, and you circle your clit with the pad of your fingertip.

“Please, Eddie.” fuckjesuschrist, how is he supposed to fucking last when you are begging him like this already. “Please, I want you to touch yourself just for me.”

Eddie swears that you must actually be the devil sometimes. He finds it actually impossible to say no to you sometimes. But when those sweet demands come from those gorgeous lips of yours, who could actually say no? You’re beauty personified. Everything about you is breathtaking. Eddie grunts when he pulls his cock out; the tip is already red and leaking.

“That’s it, baby. Jerk off for me.” A shudder goes through his body, and Eddie starts fucking his fist.

You moan when you feel his hand replacing yours on your pussy. His fingers brush against your clit gently at first, but soon he’s pumping two of his fingers into you.

“I’m the luckiest fucker to ever live.” He mutters to himself, but you heard him. You giggle at how cheesy he can be, but it really arouses you to know he thinks so highly of you.

You’re so tight and warm deep inside of you, and it makes Eddie bucks his hips a little faster. The moans that fall from his lips are so intoxicating to you. You aren’t sure how you’re supposed to last with him fingering you so good and letting out those sexy sounds. Your head rolls back against the pillows and you arch your back.

“Oh fuck baby!” Eddie cries out. “Fuck baby, I need to fuck you.”

You nod frantically, giving him the consent he so desperately needs. A soft “yes please” is barely audible from you, but Eddie knows that you want this too. He climbs on top of you and spreads your thighs. Already his heart is racing.

“Gotta be deep inside you.” Eddie grunts, and he slips into you with ease. Another grunt rumbles through him. He’s never going to be able to last.

Your eyes roll back as Eddie begins a quick, brutal pace. He lets slip a string of curses, mumbling about how good your pussy feels. You can barely think of the words to say to tell him you love how good he fucks you. Those sweet moans are what fall from your lips instead, and Eddie feels himself throbbing within you.

“Cum on my cock,” Eddie pleads. “Please please, baby. I need to feel you.”

His thumb comes down to circle your swollen clit, and he smirks when he sees you arching off the bed. It’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen, and he doesn’t want to ever miss a moment of you like this ever again. He wants to be able to watch you come undone just for him forever.

Your brain short-circuits when you finally fall off the edge. Your silky walls clamp down on Eddie’s throbbing cock, rendering him into a moaning and whining mess. It’s like electricity coursing through you, jolting you to cling to him even harder and pulling yourself even closer. He grunts when his balls tighten, and he’s spilling his seed deep inside of you. The two of you continue grinding against one another desperately, the filthiest words falling from his lips. Eventually, they turn into whimpering alone until he slumps against you.

It takes you both a couple of minutes to regain your breath. Eddie pulls out of you slowly, and he watches as his cum leaks from your puffy folds. He licks his lips, unable to look away for the moment. Then he snaps back into reality and picks up one of his discarded shirts on the ground to clean up the mess of your pussy. He tosses the soiled shirt on the ground once more, earning a scoff from you.

“Very hygienic, Munson.” You chastise him, but there’s a smile on your face.

Eddie sits back on his bed, his back resting against the headboard. He picks up his pack of cigarettes off the bedside table and he lights it up. You crawl up to him, sitting next to him and resting your head on his shoulder. He passes the smoke to you, which you so gladly take from him.

“I don’t think you mind,” Eddie says. “You’ve always liked dirty things.”

And he wasn’t wrong.

#munsoninthedark.writes #Eddie munson #Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x y/n #Eddie munson x you #Eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie x you #stranger things #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader

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melodygatesauthor · 11 months

Text

The Best Kept Secrets - Steven's Story

dbf!Steven Grant X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - Masterlist - AO3 Link

Suggested reading order - Marc -> Steven -> Jake -

Marc's Story - Jake's Story

Summary:

You've just graduated college and you find yourself developing feelings for your dad's best friend after your graduation party. Three different versions of the same story all with different boys.

Tags/Warnings (for all three fics):

NSFW, age gap (reader is about 22 - boys are 40), reader is not race-coded, reader graduated college in America but isn't necessarily American, p in v creampie, unprotected sex, dbf trope, oral sex, coercion (sort of on both sides), Jake being Jake, Marc being Marc, Steven being Steven, forbidden relationship, forbidden sex, blowjob, mild bondage, dirty talk, alcohol consumption, car sex, bad puns

Word Count: 8.6k

You got out of the Uber when it stopped in front of your childhood home. Your dad was already waiting for you by the front door, smiling wide. He came over with his arms out, pulling you into a big hug. You grunted from the tight squeeze.

“Hi dad.” You choked out.

“I sweetie.” He let go of you and looked you over. “How was the ride from the airport?” He started taking two of your bags out of the trunk and walking back toward the house with you in tow.

“Long,” you said with a tired laugh.

“Well, hope you’re not too tired cause there’s a few people here to see you.”

He opened the front door and you were greeted by several relatives and family friends in the kitchen. They all shouted, congratulations! at once, holding up an assortment of beer bottles and glasses of wine. Knowing your dad, the drinking had been going on for a couple of hours before you arrived.

“Thanks everyone,” you said with a big smile, feeling a little shy having all those eyes on you.

You noticed the black and gold, congrats graduate, banner adorning the wall above the table in the dining area. With the initial excitement over, the crowd dissipated and you watched everyone start mingling once again. Your cousins came up to you and started exchanging quick updates on their lives while everyone else chattered around you throughout the house.

“What do you think, huh?” Your dad asked, coming up behind you while you admired the cake in the center of the dining table. He handed you a mixed drink.

“Dad, this is really great. There’s so many people! I really wasn’t expecting this when you said we were having a graduation barbecue. Thought maybe only a couple people would show up.” You looked to see your aunt talking with one of your dad’s friends in the living room.

“You know me better than that. Not everyday your kid graduates college,” he patted your back proudly, “shit, gotta go check the grill. I’ll be right back.”

While he was gone, you watched your aunt and your dad’s friend finish their conversation. You’d known Steven since you were a kid, but it had been a long time since you’d seen each other. He came over to you and held up his drink as if to say cheers. He still looked nervous as you remembered, and you wondered if that would ever change. Looking at him now though, you found it a little endearing, the way he stood awkwardly next to you. He gestured to the cake.

“Looks like someone’s a genius,” he sniffed out a laugh, “you. Can’t believe you’ve graduated, seems like only yesterday you were leavin’ to go on your big college adventure.”

You pulled your lips into a tight smile, “yeah, I guess I’m a pretty big deal,” you giggled at your attempt to sound conceited, “heard the job market sucks though. Not looking forward to that.”

“Well, as long as you’ve got a good resume, shouldn’t be a problem for someone smart as you, right?” He gulped some of his wine down and then looked at you with those brown eyes that seemed to sparkle sometimes when the light hit them just right.

You felt your cheeks get flush over Steven endlessly complimenting your intelligence. This was the first time you’d really looked at Steven. He’d always just been your dad’s best friend. He wasn’t a bad looking guy, but he always had a disheveled appearance, oversized clothes, and a nervous demeanor that didn’t exactly scream ‘lady's man’. The way he looked at you now though had your stomach fluttering with excitement. You noticed the way his eyes went half lidded as he looked you over too, as though you were the thing making him buzzed instead of the wine.

You cleared your throat, breaking the awkwardly silent trance you were both under.

“I actually don’t have a resume,” you said softly, realizing that he was probably going to think you were an idiot for not having the most basic thing you needed for a job in the first place.

“Oh we can’t have that can we? Tell you what,” his eyes seemed to light up, “I’m going to be gone two weeks on holiday after tomorrow, but when I get back, why don’t we go over that resume together? I’ve had to make one or two in my career.” Steven gave you his usual dopey smile, but this time you felt your stomach flutter.

You nodded, sipping your drink, “that would actually be amazing.” Someone called your name from outside, interrupting the casual conversation. “I gotta go, see you around, Steven.”

“Yeah…you too, love.”

After several hours and a few drinks later, you were sitting around the firepit with only your dad, one of your cousins and Steven. Steven was always telling fascinating mythological tales around the fire that had apparently bored everyone else in the audience. Your father was struggling to keep his eyes open while Steven rambled on about Khonshu, the moon god. Truth be told, you found it all extremely fascinating. You leaned on your hand, watching him and listening intently. He looked over at you and smiled. Steven’s smile was so fucking beautiful. Why hadn’t you noticed before tonight how good looking he was? This feeling you had was so wrong…but you wanted him so badly all of a sudden. It had to be the alcohol talking, that was the only logical explanation.

A little while later, you were tipsy and felt your eyelids closing involuntarily, no matter how hard you tried to keep them open.

They closed again, and when you opened them this time, it was only you and Steven left around the fire.

Closed again.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been out, but the sudden movement stirred you awake. You were being carried by a set of strong arms. Did your dad come back to get you? No. He would’ve woken you up so you could walk to bed. You wrapped your arms around the man’s shoulders and buried your face in his neck. Steven, you thought.

He smelled like fresh linen sheets that had been on a clothesline all day. Your lips brushed the soft skin there, and you felt a strong sense of comfort wash over you. Alcohol had a way of making you forget to filter your emotions, and right now you were hoping Steven would never let go. You didn’t know why you felt that way. None of it made sense. It’s not like he’d made any sort of pass at you during your growing up. He certainly had been respectful all night.

When you got to your room, you stirred and looked up at him. He put you down gently, one foot at a time, but never took his eyes off of you, nor did you take your eyes off of him. You grabbed either side of his baggy denim jacket. You weren’t sure if the attraction was one sided or not until Steven grabbed your hip in one hand, and cupped your cheek in the other.

You went for it, closing the gap between your lips, not wanting to give the nervous man a second to reconsider. He must’ve drank too much as well just based on the way his tongue tasted in your mouth. It was delicious, exciting, and forbidden. Steven pushed you back onto the bed, never letting his mouth disconnect from yours. He climbed over you, taking you completely by surprise. You thought for sure that the usual ‘by the book good boy’ Steven wouldn’t dream of doing something with his best friend’s daughter, but here he was on top of you with his tongue down your throat.

Steven kissed along your jaw and moved to your neck, peppering soft and wet kisses there. You grabbed his hand, guiding it to the waist of your jeans. You clasped your hand over your mouth when he dragged his thick finger over your folds, finding your clit with ease. He teethed your earlobe, inciting a high pitched and muffled squeak from you.

“This is so stupid of me, shit,” Steven said through gritted teeth.

“It’s okay, we can just…we’re drunk, it will be like nothing happened tomorrow okay?” You looked at him, desperate for him to stay.

He peered up at you with a hooded and drunken gaze. His lips were swollen and glossy. He went back in for more sloppy kisses, moaning deeply into you while his fingers kept working over your greedy clit. You brought your hands up and tangled them in his locks.

You felt him churning his hips against your knee. He was hard, and from what you could tell he wasn’t lacking in size either. He never stopped working on you with his incredibly dexterous fingers though, rolling his fingers over that little nub that made you do the most morally questionable acts. You bit Steven’s lip, letting it snap back on his bottom teeth. He whimpered and you felt him start thrusting his hips faster against you.

“Steven, you feel so good. Don’t stop touching me please. I’m so…ah–so–close–I’m–oh shit.”

You came, cunt contracting in waves as Steven stole every moan from your mouth into his. He was grinding faster and faster against your leg until finally he stopped. You felt a wet heat soak through your jeans and onto your thigh while Steven was open mouth panting on top of you. Neither of you moved for a while. You weren’t sure what had him frozen in place, but for you it was the fear of looking him in the eye and realizing what you both had just done.

You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

You were the first to move, pushing him off of you and rushing to the bathroom to clean yourself up. When you saw yourself in the mirror you felt immediate disgust and regret. You shouldn’t have done that. That was your dad’s best friend, and you’d just let him get you off while he came in his pants on top of you.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

----

The next morning at breakfast, you and Steven kept stealing awkward glances at each other. He managed to make small talk with your father, not sounding much different than usual, but you and him both remembered what had happened the night before. You were struggling to figure out how things were going to go back to normal after that. How was he supposed to just keep coming over for get togethers and barbecues all summer now that you two had this weird thing between you?

“C-can you pass the orange juice?” You asked Steven, holding out your hand.

“You cold honey?” Your dad asked.

“Um, yeah a little, I’ll just put on a sweater when I go upstairs,” you damned your nervous stammering.

The moment your father went up to use the bathroom, you took the opportunity to talk to Steven who, at that moment, was clearly pretending to look at his phone. You were surprised to see someone like Steven using a smartphone. He always seemed like he was a little behind the times. You took a bite of your pancake and pointed at his phone with your fork.

“Whatchya lookin’ at?” You asked.

It seemed that actually talking to one another and pretending like nothing happened worked. Steven loosened up and showed you some pictures of the place he was going on his vacation. He was going to visit London, and talked excitedly about the museum they had there. He even joked that he’d like to bring you there some time. Except…it wasn’t a joke. Steven’s eyes were dead serious as he looked over at you.

“Steven I…we can’t…”

“I know…I’m sorry, sorry I shouldn’t have said anything, sorry.” He put his phone away quickly and sipped his orange juice.

When your dad came back downstairs, Steven seemed to have a hard time recollecting himself after his little comment. Breakfast ended abruptly with Steven looking at the clock and feigning surprise. He thanked your dad for letting him crash there for the night, made up some excuse as to why he needed to leave so suddenly and then waved goodbye to both of you before making a quick exit. You wondered if you were ever going to see him again.

----

For two weeks you fought off thoughts about your dad’s best friend. You tried so hard not to think about the way his arms felt carrying you up to bed the other night; so hard not to think about the way he smelled when you had your face buried in his neck; you tried so fucking hard not to think about the way his fingers felt brushing over your clit while he kissed you so passionately.

You were surprised when your father left for work and only a couple of hours later, Steven arrived. You hadn’t heard him come in, and nearly screamed when you heard papers shuffling downstairs while you were stepping out of the shower. You peered out the window and saw his car parked in the driveway. You let out a sigh of relief, realizing that there wasn’t a burglar in your home, but that initial fear was replaced with an anxiety that you couldn’t shake. Steven was there. He was actually there.

“He’s just here to help you with your resume,” you said to yourself in your vanity mirror, as though that was somehow supposed to stop the ache growing between your legs.

It wasn’t like it was easy to push away the thoughts that crept into your mind. You had to admit that there were a couple nights where you’d made a panting, wet mess of yourself while you imagined him buried deep inside of you, making you so cock dumb you could hardly breathe. Now you were alone together, and he was supposed to be helping you with your resume. You needed to pull yourself together. This was your dad’s best friend, and no good could come out of fulfilling your stupid fantasies.

When you finally came downstairs, dressed in something modest to help you both suppress your desires, you thought you were going to be able to stay strong. He was sitting on the couch, back to, fluffy dark curls in disarray as usual. Your mind, for a mere second, flashed to your fingers entangled in them, but you quickly shook he thought from your head.

You can do this, you said to yourself, it’s just Steven. It’s just good old–

The fucker turned around, bright eyes shining like it was the first time he’d ever seen you. You stopped in your tracks, pressing your hand to your chest like he’d just punched the air from your lungs. There were no words coming out of your mouth. You wanted to ask him how his trip was. You wanted to start discussing the pros and cons of putting certain extracurricular activities on your resume.

He stood up, wiping his hands on his pants. He was nervous. Why wasn’t he talking? You clearly weren’t going to be the one to say the first word, you couldn’t even if you wanted to. He didn’t talk, he just walked closer, each scuff of his shoe was deafening in the quiet air of your house.

“Stev–”

His lips were over yours before you could think, and you were falling into it hopelessly, grabbing the hem of his denim coat to pull yourself in closer. How was this happening? This was Steven, the guy who your dad trusted more than anyone, and he was grabbing both of your hips and pulling them tightly against his. You felt his prodding erection so strong and needy against your lower abdomen. If he couldn’t be the bigger person, you had to be. You pulled away from his arms while simultaneously pushing him back. He looked at you like a kicked puppy, lips pressed together tightly.

“Steven we can’t. We can’t,” you insisted, despite your wanting to let him bend you over the arm of the couch.

He nodded slowly, “I’m sorry I know. Sorry, I understand, truly love, it’s just…damn…sorry.”

He ran a hand through his hair and turned back to you. You walked up to him and put a hand on his back, looking over to meet his eye. He looked hurt by your rejection, but you knew he wasn’t stupid. You knew he understood why this, whatever this was, couldn’t continue for a moment longer. You both cared about your father so much, you couldn’t bear the thought of hurting him.

“S’not like I have girls throwing themselves at me y’know? I know I’m your dad’s best mate but…you’re so smart, you’re talented, not to mention incredibly beautiful I can’t–”

“Steven.”

“-and all they’ve ever done is laugh at me when I ramble on about the things I like, and you looked at me like—”

“Steven,” you repeated.

“-no one’s ever really cared about anything I’ve had to say. Not really and—”

“Steven!” Finally he stopped and looked at you. “I get it, and I’m sorry too. We just…can’t.”

You didn’t realize Steven had felt that way about you. It wasn’t like you didn’t feel the same, but you knew you couldn’t act on it. It wasn’t fair to your dad. After several more apologies, Steven determined he couldn’t bear to stay there and help you with your resume, so he grabbed his papers quickly and hurried out of your house.

----

After three weeks passed, you wondered if Steven would ever come back to your house. That is until your dad was on his way out the door for work and told you he’d received a text from Steven yesterday. Apparently he felt bad that you still didn’t have a job after being home all that time. Your cheeks grew hot immediately when you thought about the prospect of being alone with him again. Your dad left, and you just stood there wondering what you were going to do.

You could still remember what Steven’s lips tasted like, and what his hands felt like. You still thought about him when you were alone in your room gasping quietly with two fingers plunged deep inside your wet channel. You wanted him, but you were afraid. What if your dad found out? You couldn’t risk it…but maybe…maybe, Steven was worth the risk.

You thought for a moment about your alternatives; the men you were supposed to be interested in; the men who weren’t best friends with your father. In your experience, most of them treated you like you were an idiot and not worth their time. None of them acted like you were important to them. They certainly didn’t look at you as though you were the only woman in existence and tell you that you were smart, talented and beautiful.

They also didn’t know you like Steven did. Steven was there to talk to you on the late nights after a family barbecue when you couldn’t sleep and your dad was already in bed. He was there to help you with your impossibly difficult homework assignments, and he was there when you left for college, making sure you knew how to get around paying full price for your textbooks. – ‘Just buy them an edition or two under the one the professor asks you for, yeah? They’re pretty much the same thing and way cheaper.’ –

By the time he arrived a couple hours later, you realized that Steven was the obvious choice above all others, it was so clear. You walked down the stairs silently. Why were you still denying it? Was it because you knew there was no way it could really work out? Surely you’d be stuck perpetually lying and sneaking around to avoid getting caught. It would be an exciting endeavor at first, but it would stop being fun and eventually be downright exhausting. When you saw him this time, sitting there in your living room back to on the couch with his laptop and notebooks, you didn’t care anymore. All of that could get dealt with later. You wanted him in every way.

You wanted him now.

“Steven I–”

You froze in your tracks, seeing his laptop screen over the top of his head. He had a website open, a dating site. You could see the lewd messages between him and a pretty girl on the screen. Steven said a few curses while he tried to close the window, meanwhile you were trying to calm yourself down. You had no real reason to be upset. You’d turned him down, he was just doing what he should’ve been doing from the start, dating women that weren’t his best friend’s kid. That didn’t stop you from feeling the disappointment pool in your gut like a bad meal.

“Sorry, just…there.”

He finally got the window moved and now had a text document open. You took a deep breath, trying to stop yourself from collapsing on the floor. Why was this bothering you so much? It should’ve been a relief. He was moving on, and now you could too. It was simple. Life could go back to normal.

“Actually…” You gulped harshly, holding back the tears that threatened just behind the surface, “actually I wish dad had asked me before he texted you. I don’t need…” you gestured to him and the area surrounding, “this anymore.”

“What, you don’t need—oh, I see what’s happenin’ here,” Steven’s smile grew over his face, and for a moment you felt hopeful that he was going to scoop you up and kiss your sorrows away.

“Y-you do?”

“Yeah…I do…you missy got a job and you haven’t told your dad yet!” He walked over and grabbed your shoulders. Was this the part where he kissed you?

Nope.

“Congratulations! See, I knew you were brilliant. Didn’t even need me after all.”

It would seem that the universe was looking out for you anyway. Your dad walked through the door having forgotten his lunch in the fridge earlier that morning. He mumbled about how he was glad they let him leave to grab it, but damned himself still for forgetting it in the first place. If you and Steven had been standing there, tongues down each other’s throats…you wouldn't have been caught so easily. It would appear the rejection was a blessing in disguise.

Steven kept your ‘secret’ about the job you didn’t really have and proceeded to strike up a conversation with your dad while you just felt the world crumble around you. You’d never felt such a pit of dread in your stomach. You felt numb, and walked up to your room, deciding to stay there for the remainder of the day.

----

You weren’t thrilled at the prospect of Steven coming by to check on you while your dad was out of town for the week. Steven had seemed to have moved on easily from you. You even heard your dad talking about how he had a girl he’d taken on a date a couple of times. You wondered if it was the same girl he was messaging on the dating site. Two dates within the last two weeks. He must’ve really been smitten with her. Meanwhile, you were spending your evenings trying to stop thinking about that stupid night you’d spent together, and how much you regretted all of it.

But mostly you regretted pushing him away when he’d come back from his holiday.

When he finally showed up, it was after dinner. You were sitting on the couch watching some crappy movie about five guys taking down a Columbian drug lord. You paused the movie and turned around to see him standing there. He was so handsome. Your stomach fluttered wildly, making you feel nauseous. You turned back to the tv and pressed play again, not saying a word.

“Hi love. Just coming in to check on you, y’know? Your father asked me to so…here I am,” he sounded timid, like he was trying to calm down a wild animal. He knew you were upset…was it that obvious?

You didn’t respond. You didn’t need him there anyway, checking in on you. You were twenty-two, not seven. He had no reason to be there other than your father acting over protective in a way that was even more annoying than he could possibly understand. Steven walked around to the other side of the couch and sat down. Looking up at the screen, he pointed and chuckled.

“Never seen this film before, but don’t think that’s very smart, burnin’ their money like that yeah?” He shifted, wiping his hands on his pants.

He was nervous again.

You finally looked over at him, “you don’t have to stay here. You can tell my dad you checked on me and just go.”

“I’m guessing you heard about Jane…”

“Didn’t know her name,” you said coldly, “but yeah, I heard about her.”

“I just thought that…if you really didn’t want this, whatever this is, then I’d better find some way to move on. Maybe you should—”

“I’ll be right back,” you slammed the remote down and started for the stairs.

“I’ll pause it if you—”

“Nope! Enjoy the movie Stevie!”

You had no right.

You had no right to be as angry as you were about Steven finding someone that he could spend time with out in the open. He could kiss her in the street, he could take her on a date, he could bring her over and put his arm around her in front of your dad. She could give him all the things that you couldn’t.

Now it was too late. You were sitting in your room, trying desperately not to cry so loudly that Steven would hear you from downstairs. Either you failed in your attempt to be quiet, or he was going to come up to your room whether he heard you or not, because he pushed your door open with a low creak. You looked up at him, standing there with his hands balled up in fists in front of himself. He looked almost like a child who was afraid of getting in trouble.

“Love?” He asked.

You wiped your eyes quickly, turning away so he couldn’t see you.

“Please go away, Steven,” you said in a nasally tone.

“Yeah, I will…in a minute.”

You felt the bed shift next to you and you turned your back to him completely, crossing your legs on the bed. You felt uncomfortable knowing he was right behind you. Your feelings of discomfort were amplified when you felt his hand on your shoulder with a light tug. He was strong, and you weren’t in a position to fight back, so you fell into his chest.

“Are we gonna talk about this or are we going to keep pretending we don’t feel…something?” He asked, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Y’know I only went out with her because you made it exceptionally clear that you were finished with me...but I never stopped thinking about you.”

“We’re going to keep pretending,” you turned around and looked at him deeply, “because it’s wrong, Steven.”

“So then let’s just…” he leaned in close to you, “we can just let it go if…” you leaned closer, “if you want.”

“We really shouldn’t…” his nose brushed against yours, “if we get caught my dad…” your mouths were almost touching, “he’ll be so mad I–”

It was over. You pushed Steven back onto the bed and kissed him sloppily, desperate to feel him again. You straddled him and already felt the strength of his erection pressing against you through his pants. He grabbed your hips and held them in place, rubbing himself against you hungrily. While it did feel good, having him dry hump you and feeling the sweet friction of the clothes you wore against your needy clit, you wanted more.

“Get your pants off, please,” you practically begged, working on discarding your own bottoms.

Steven complied, and when he did you froze in awe at the size of him. He was bigger than you’d thought he would be which excited you as you climbed over him again. You felt his fat tip prodding at your entrance, becoming slick with your juices. He rested a large hand on either of your hips, squeezing hard. You thought he was going to let you set the pace but…

“Sorry love, sorry I–” he grunted and thrust upward into you while simultaneously pulling you down, gasping as he did, “-oh just had to feel you—oh shit. Been thinkin’ about it f’so long now.”

“Oh-Steven oh my–” you fell forward, leaning down to kiss him while he jackhammered into you at an unforgiving pace.

The sound of skin slapping skin was deafening and he never slowed the speed at which he fucked you from below. You tried to keep your lips over his but you couldn’t so you sat upright, looking down at him. He licked his bottom lip and then trapped it under his top teeth. Both of his large hands were gripping your thighs, holding you in place with a bruising strength.

“Lean back f’me, love. Grab my legs.”

You whined as you did what he asked, arching back and grabbing onto his shins.

“There you go darling, now slide back and forth.” You started rocking your hips as he’d instructed, dragging his cock along your walls in a delicious rhythm. “Yeah, there y’go, just like that.”

Your jaw fell open when Steven pressed the pad of his thumb on your clit. He started rolling his finger over the sensitive nub, circling gently. You whined at the touch, looking down at him. His strong jaw was still clenched while he bit his bottom lip. You kept sliding yourself back and forth, taking his cock as deep as you could and feeling the way it would twitch inside of you on every pass. He felt so good, any reservations you had were gone, he was all you wanted…all you needed.

“Does that feel good, love? You’re squeezing so tight–god–it’s so…”

Steven was still using his free hand to hold onto your thigh and help your movements. You could feel him churning his hips what little bit he could in rhythm with your own. Thank goodness your father wasn’t home or there would be no denying what you were doing. You were practically screaming Steven’s name while he dragged his fat cock against that sweet spot deep inside of you. His thumb kept brushing over your clit, sending electric currents through your entire body.

“Feels so good Steven–yes ah!”

He shocked you when he sat up so suddenly, bringing his face close to yours. You kissed him deeply and started sliding up and down over him. He disconnected his lips from yours and looked at you, eyes so hooded with desire that you’d think he was drunk if you didn’t know any better.

“Love the way you work yourself on me darling. You look so pretty when you’re taking what you want from me. Don’t stop–mm yes–just–like–that.”

You’d never heard Steven’s voice sound so rough and wrecked before. He lifted your shirt and took one of your nipples into his mouth, humming into your breast as he did. When you looked down all you could see was his brown curls peeking out under your shirt. His hands worked to spread your ass cheeks and help you move while you continued grinding down on top of him. You felt a bead of spit trickling down your torso from Steven’s continued mawing at your chest.

“Steven, not gonna make it much longer!” You whined loudly.

“I know love, I can feel it,” he grunted. “Just let go f’me, I’m right there.”

If not for Steven’s strong arms continuing the pace, you would’ve stopped moving the moment your orgasm took over your body. It felt so good your legs went completely numb, struggling to hold you up. You felt your cunt squeezing around his girth, contracting and releasing while you gushed over him. His hips shot up, one harsh snap as his own climax peaked, hot white spend filling you so full that you felt it leak out around the sides of his cock.

You were both a breathless heap when you were done and coming back down from your high. You found yourself wrapped in his arms in your bed while sleep took you both over. You never thought in a million years that you and Steven would’ve done something so intimate, but now that you’d actually felt him, and been so close to him, you wouldn’t change it for the world.

----

Steven had awoken the following morning next to you and you wondered what would take place after that. Was he going to want to continue seeing you, or was he going to continue seeing that Jane girl?

He was going to continue seeing Jane…and then he didn’t see you again for another three weeks. When he’d left that morning after he ‘checked’ on you, he assured you that continuing to date her would be a way of throwing your father off your trail. The two of you would be able to keep seeing each other in secret, and your dad wouldn’t think anything of it. The only problem was, you weren’t seeing each other at all. Steven straight up blew you off, so when your dad told you he was coming over for dinner, you felt anxious almost immediately.

Dinner was almost ready when your phone buzzed on the counter. You picked it up. Joey, the guy you’d met last week at the local coffee shop was asking if you were still on for tomorrow night. You replied, ‘yes’, and then put your phone in your pocket. As hard as it was, going out with someone else was a necessary step in getting things back to normal. Steven clearly had no intention of pursuing things with you further, so why were you going to wait for him? It didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell to let him go though, after everything you’d been through together.

When he walked into the house sporting his usual nervous smile and disheveled dark locks, you felt your breath hitch in your throat. He was still so handsome. It’s not like you expected that to change, but you’d hoped that maybe you would’ve stopped mentally putting him on a pedestal by now so you could move on. But you didn’t, and you couldn’t.

“Hey, Steven.” You said coldly with a glare to match as he approached the dining table.

“Oh, hey!” He looked genuinely happy to see you.

You tried so hard not to look like you wanted to turn him to stone with your gaze, but you couldn’t help it. After the night you’d shared together, and the things he said you would do under your dad’s nose, him standing you up had done nothing but piss you off. You didn’t even want to go on a date with the loser from the coffee shop, you’d just wanted something…anything to help clear your mind from Steven, and yet here he was, sitting right in front of you, acting like nothing fazed him at all.

You wasted no time telling him about the date.

“Steven, I wanted to tell you how excited I am about tomorrow night, I’m going on a date!”

You looked up from your plate to see Steven with a forkful of mashed potatoes sitting in front of his wide open mouth. He seemed to be frozen by your words, and a snide smirk rested over your face. He popped the mash into his mouth, getting a little on his chin and shirt while he just kept looking at you.

“Well…” he said, mouth full and using his napkin to dab his chin, “that’s…erm…that’s good innit?” He took a huge gulp of wine.

You shrugged, “I suppose. Sometimes you just have to take what you want when things don’t go your way.”

The conversation wasn’t about you and Joey anymore.

You swigged your own wine down in one gulp. Steven’s whole demeanor changed, like he was mentally disconnected from the conversation, even while he spoke.

“Oh, erm, you like this guy then? He’s nice?” He wasn’t looking at you, instead he was poking the food on his plate nervously.

“I don’t know,” you tried to sound indifferent, “if nothing else he’ll be a good distraction. Keep things interesting.”

Steven nodded, and looked back up at you. He was forcing himself to eat, you could tell by the way he popped his fork into his mouth again unenthusiastically. His eyes were glossing over. You knew he was seconds from the waterworks and you hoped that your dad didn’t notice. When you looked in your father’s direction, he was fixated on his own phone, likely something to do with work.

Steven finally responded, “good…it will be good for you to find someone you can spend time with then.”

“He’s right, you know.” Your dad chimed in, seemingly oblivious to the private conversation you and Steven were having right under his nose. “You’ve got a good job, now it’s time to find someone who makes you happy right?”

“Yeah, he is right isn’t he? I mean…he’s got someone to make him happy, Judy, right Steven? So he should know how nice it feels.” You kept your eyes on your dad who admittedly looked at you quizzically when you said something so clearly pointed at Steven.

You just made it uncomfortably awkward…even more so than it already was.

“Who wants more wine?” You asked, getting up and going to the kitchen, effectively ending the awkward exchange.

The glasses of wine were filled while you and Steven continued to avoid looking at each other. You both guzzled down three more glasses each while your father and he entertained more small talk. When dinner concluded, he got up and went outside to start putting together a fire, and your dad asked you to do the dishes and join them when you were finished.

You did the dishes, but you didn’t join them. You told your dad you weren’t feeling well and instead retreated to your room. The last thing you wanted to do was continue the awkwardness that transpired at the dinner table. You thought that would be the end of it, that Steven would have enough sense to just let you walk away and let the spark between you both die down.

You were wrong.

Your father had gone to bed almost a half hour before you heard Steven working his way upstairs. You thought for sure he would walk right by your room and go to the guest room, but he didn’t. Steven twisted your door handle and walked in, closing the door quickly while he stepped inside. You sat up and looked at him with confusion, rubbing the fatigue from your eyes.

“What are you doing in here?” You asked. He stumbled so you got up quickly and put your hands on his shoulders. “Hey! Careful. Here…sit down.”

You helped him onto your bed hurriedly before your dad woke up to his drunk friend being a little too noisy in your bedroom. Steven groaned and covered his face with his hands, slouching over.

“I’m so dumb, I’m sorry. Listen to me love, please, just listen and don’t kick me out.” Steven looked at you with those eyes that made your body melt into a puddle every time you saw them.

You crossed your arms over your chest, “What?” Maybe you sounded a little too harsh, but to say you were angry was an understatement.

He took a deep breath, “I made a huge mistake. I am so sorry I tried to gather the courage to reach out to you, but then I thought about your dad and I started to feel a bit guilty.”

“It’s a little late for that isn’t it?”

“A bit…yeah a bit…but I still felt it. And like, wakin’ up next to you was the best moment of my entire life. I can’t even begin to describe it, it was like–“

“I know Steven, I felt the same.”

Relief flooded over his body and that love-dumb smile spread across his lips. He grabbed both of your hands and pulled you to stand between his legs, resting his face between your breasts. You felt a vibration across your sternum from him mumbling to you. You stepped back and looked down at him.

“What?”

“I said, I’m sorry.” His eyes were glossy again. “I didn’t have the courage to reach out to you, and then it had been over a week and I thought surely I shouldn’t reach out to you now because you’d be angry no doubt. I wanted to, I really, really–”

You were a certified moron for kissing him right then. He didn’t prove to you in the slightest that he cared about you, not with his actions anyway, but you were still a little buzzed from the wine you’d had earlier, and you felt the arousal building between your legs. Not to mention the small part of you that actually believed the words coming out of his mouth. When you tried to pull away from the kiss, Steven wrapped his arms around your bottom and pulled you close. You conceded, cupping his cheeks and sucking his lower lip in between your teeth.

If kissing Steven was one thing, it was messy, sloppy, and wet. He tasted like wine and something entirely unique to Steven. You wanted to devour him in every sense of the word, to feel him around you and inside of you all at once. He was faster than you, quickly removing his pants and getting them down around his ankles, staying positioned still on the edge of the bed.

The cheap lace panties you’d worn must’ve had a small tear already started, that or Steven was deceptively strong, because he ripped them all too easily. He threw them aside like they’d personally wronged him and you moved to straddle him on the edge of the mattress. The thick head of his cock was already prodding so hungrily against your greedy hole. You finally took your mouth off Steven’s and looked at him. He was so pretty, lips glossy and swollen from your oral onslaught.

“Did you fuck her?” You asked, breathless.

Steven shook his head, “no, couldn’t bring m’self to do that to you love. Not a chance.”

He leaned up and kissed you again, even harder than before, which you didn’t think was possible. You took your frustration out on his lips, still mad at him for leaving you high and dry for so long. Oh but you weren’t dry now, you were anything but dry. Steven grabbed your hips in both of his big hands and pulled you down roughly over his length. You moaned deeper into his mouth, attempting to keep yourself from alerting your father who was, hopefully, sleeping down the hall.

Steven grabbed your asscheeks firmly and started bouncing you like you were weightless over his girth. He was hitting you so deep, filling you so full you could hardly stand it. You couldn’t bring yourself to take your lips from his though. The way they felt, the fixation you had on making the flesh there all raw and slick was maddening.

He was so noisy, not only in the way the bed creaked with his movements, but his hungry moans that you gladly swallowed whole would wake the neighborhood if you didn’t stifle them somehow. You broke it off and looked down at him. His puffy lips, so swollen from your relentless sucking, were spit soaked and shining.

“You need to quiet down Steven or my dad is going to hear us,” you whispered softly.

“I know love I know it just-oh my God–it just feels–it feels so good.”

He grabbed the back of your neck for more sloppy kisses, as though they were his life support. Now one-handed, he relied on you to take over the motions, and you were happy to comply. You slid yourself up and down over his fat cock, feeding him your whines and whimpers while it split you open. He pulled your head back, breaking your faces apart once again.

“Don’t want you going on that date love, I don’t like it,” he looked at you so heartbroken you slowed your movements.

“I have to go Steven, we can’t let my dad know that we’re up to something, and if we’re both dating someone else then–” He interrupted you with his mouth again, “—then he’ll never suspect that–” another, “—we’re together.”

Steven shook his head, “don’t like the thought.”

He picked you up and laid you on your back without pulling out of you. Now you were both on the bed, him on top of you, thrusting slowly in what you assumed was an attempt to keep the noise to a minimum. You wished he could slam into you harder, despite knowing it would be a huge mistake.

“Don’t want you with someone else. Don’t want you makin’ these sounds for anyone else.” His face buried into the crook of your neck, leaving soft kisses there.

A sharp gasp escaped you when he nipped your neck. He started licking and sucking the skin there. You whined from the pain; he was drawing the flesh into his mouth harshly.

“Steven, you're going to leave a mark,” you warned, trying to pull yourself away from his mouth.

He hummed against you, fucking harder and sucking harder. You had to cover your mouth with your hand to keep yourself from alerting your father to what you and Steven were doing. That’s when you felt the arousal pooling like hot lava in your core. It came on so fast, hitting you like a wave until you were gushing and clenching around his wide girth. Steven choked out a low moan, finally releasing the hold he had on your neck. You felt him filling you, hot cum squelching out around him as he thrusted through his orgasm.

When you were both finished, he was breathing heavily with his face still resting on your neck. You knew why he was staying. You understood what he was feeling because you felt it too. You didn’t want to let go. An eternity could go by and it wouldn’t be enough time with him. He lifted himself up on his elbows and then leaned down to kiss you one more time.

“You’ve got to go on that date darling, I know you do but…I don’t want to ever hear about it alright? When we’re together, we don’t need to talk about any of it, I won’t talk about…her either. Please.” His eyes darted between yours rapidly.

You nodded, brushing your thumb over his cheek, “okay, not a word.”

----

You’d never felt so stupid.

There you were, standing in the rain outside of the restaurant where you’d been stood up. Your dad was gone for the weekend on business, and you didn’t know who else to call, that’s why you called him. He’d always be there for you, you knew that. No matter the situation, no matter the time, he would always come to your rescue.

Steven.

He pulled up to the sidewalk, stopping fast right in front of you, a little water splashing up and nearly getting all over your shoes. Steven was fast to run over, umbrella at the ready for the short walk to the car. You didn’t even need the thing, truth be told, but you weren’t going to tell him that. He looked so damn happy just to be your knight in shining armor.

“It’s pourin’ out, love! Why didn’t you wait inside?” He yelled over the rain.

You ignored his question, finding yourself only focused on the way his dampened curls framed his handsome face. Maybe you did need the umbrella after all; It kept you both dry while you grabbed his coat and pulled him close, slotting your lips over his in a deep, passion filled kiss. He used his free hand to tug you in even closer by the small of your back.

“Steven…” You looked up at him and found yourself lost in the beauty of his sparkling eyes.

“Darling, you’re gonna catch a cold out here if we don’t get inside the car,” he held out his arm, “how about I get you home to change and then take I’ll take you out on a real date, hm?”

Your stomach fluttered at the thought. A real date? With Steven? You took his arm and let him lead you to the car, but your mind was still racing. He got on the other side and started driving off.

“You want to take me on a date?” You looked over at him incredulously.

He started his usual stammering, “w-well I mean…if you’d like to, y-yeah. Not gonna make you do anythin’ you don’t want to, I was just thinkin–”

“No, it’s not that I don’t want to.”

You pulled down the mirror in the car. You looked like a drowned rat, and felt grateful that Steven had offered to bring you home prior to taking you out on a date. Your makeup was running down your cheeks and your tight red dress was soaked through. You chuckled and flipped the visor back up. You really did look like shit. You wouldn’t even want to take you out looking like that.

“I’d love to go on a date with you, it’s just, what about my dad? We can’t just go out together, what if someone sees us? And what about Jane? I’m sure if she catches you out with another woman she won’t be too happy.”

Steven pulled into the driveway. It was awkwardly quiet except for the rain pitter pattering on the windshield. You didn’t get out right away, you were feeling too overwhelmed to move. On one hand, you were seriously considering the future with Steven. It was clear that you were both too hung up on each other to keep this hidden. On the other hand, you couldn’t fathom telling your father about this. What would he say?

“Well for starters, I broke up with Jane,” you looked over at Steven, eyes wide and buzzing from his words. “I felt too guilty stringing her along while I knew my heart wasn’t in it and…” he took your hand in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles softly, “every time I was with her, I felt miserable that I wasn’t with you.”

“What do you think we should do then?” You asked, looking at him and hoping he had some magical solution that didn’t involve telling your dad…ever.

“We have to tell your father, love. I know it’s not what you want to hear but…I can’t keep doin’ this. I want to be with you. Not hidin’, not sneakin’ about. I want to take you out and spoil you and be a real couple, you know?”

Damn it.

“Alright,” you let out the breath you’d been holding for far too long. Despite the anxiety pooling in your chest, you smiled, “let’s go on that date then.”

----

Moon Knight DBF Masterlist

Moon Knight Masterlist

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autisticlancemcclain · 6 months

Text

———

“Keith Kogane, you magnanimous dumbass, would it kill you to ask me out like a man. Something like that.”

Hunk presses the pause button. He tucks his phone back into his pocket. He turns to Shiro, expectant, prepared.

“So,” he says.

Shiro stares at the space in front of him, fingertips pressed together and in front of his face.

“So.”

“Your brother is kind of an airhead.”

“He is indeed.”

“No offense to Keith. He has his smart moments. Probably.” Hunk’s mouth twitches. “Sorry. I said that to not be mean and then immediately thought of the whole Voltron cheer situation and laughed in my head. I promise I don’t actually think Keith is stupid.”

Shiro’s mouth twitches. He forces his face to remain neutral. It is a challenge.

“Keith refused to name his pet gecko as a child,” he shares. “He insisted the gecko would reveal its name when it was ready.”

Hunk bites his lip very hard. He looks deliberately away from Shiro.

“He was thirteen.”

The yellow paladin presses his hands to his eyes. He tries visibly hard to compose himself. He fails.

“…I see.”

“My fiancé often said he must have been born blond.”

“Boy, do I have news for you.”

Shiro raises his eyebrows. “More news than your recording of Lance processing his love?”

“There was an incident beforehand,” Hunk explains. “You know how Lance does those leg stretches sometimes? When we have agility training?”

Shiro inclines his head.

“Well, apparently last week he did them in front of Keith and Keith was so distracted he walked into a wall and broke his nose. He had to go into a healing pod.”

Truly, Shiro would love to say that he’s surprised. He’d love to say that his brother, known gay, was not so fixated on a cute boy that he walked into a whole ass wall hard enough to break his nose. He would love for that to be true.

But he knows his dumbass brother.

“Oh my God.”

“And he still isn’t picking up Lance’s hints.”

“Oh my God.”

Hunk nods, patting Shiro’s hand sympathetically. “We gotta do something, man. I can’t keep watching this.” He pauses. “Also, I really want to stop hearing about what Lance thinks about Keith’s Galra form. I really can’t hear any more talk about fangs in places fangs should not be placed. It’s not good for my mental health.”

Shiro sighs. Even he has heard Lance’s mutterings about Keith’s fangs, and Lance still gets all shy and star-struck around him. At this point it’s gotta be a human rights violation.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he promises.

———

He finds his brother in the training room, because of course he does, getting absolutely demolished by the training bot.

“You’re getting your ass kicked,” Shiro observes.

Keith grunts.

Shiro makes himself comfortable at the edge of the mat, sticking a straw in a juice pouch and sipping it leaisurely as he watches the twerp get pummelled. It’s amusing, in the way watching those test-dummy car crashes are amusing. Or videos of kids crying in fear of Santa Claus.

“Level failed,” echoes the pleasant voice of Space Siri, as Lance and Pidge have dubbed the disembodied robot voice of the training room. “Try again?”

“Fuck off,” Keith mutters to it.

Shiro stretches out and pokes him with his toe. Keith only half-heartedly tries to slice him about it.

“Somebody’s brooding.”

Evidentially deciding he would rather vent in Shiro’s direction than fall for Shiro’s transparent attempts to goad him into a fight, he flops down dramatically, stealing Shiro’s juice pouch and rudely sucking back the rest of it. Fucker.

“He’s so confusing,” he says, free arm flailing. “Just — all the time.”

Shiro politely refrains from asking him to clarify. He knows who he’s talking about.

“Hm,” he says instead, supportively. “How unfortunate for you.”

“Right!” He throws his hands up in the air, sending his bayard flying in one direction and the empty juice pouch in another. Shiro watches it go with great sadness. “One second it’s — Keith, you suck so bad, ugh, you’re such a weird dweeb. And the next it’s I’m hanging out with Coran and you’re not allowed to come and also I hate you.” He looks at Shiro expectantly. “He’s so!” He gestures vaguely. Shiro assumes it’s meant to mean something.

Shiro stares at him.

“See, to me there’s no dichotomy there,” he says slowly. “You said that as if it was two different sentiments. But in fact that was the same opinion expressed twice.”

“The tone was different,” Keith insists. “The dweeb thing is affectionate. He says it in a friendship way. I’m sure of it.”

“Friendship,” Shiro echoes.

“Exactly,” Keith agrees.

Shiro hums. He’s quite sure, now, that he is not going to explain to Keith in any words of his own how much of an oblivious dumbass he is. There is no sentence or string of sentences that Shiro can use to demonstrate just how obvious Lance is being, and how obtusely Keith is responding. He’s going to have to be clearer than that.

But. For his own amusement.

“Could you maybe explain how Lance shows his friendship to you? So I can better understand, of course.”

“Well, for starters, he says we’re enemies but always wants to pair up,” Keith says. “That’s friendship, right?”

“That’s certainly one way to put it, sure.”

“And the fact that we hang out so often.”

“Of course.”

“And the clothes stealing, of course. Lance says I have gross mullet germs but he’s always stealing my jackets, so that doesn’t add up.”

Shiro purses his lips. That is — whew. Poor Lance is in the trenches.

Keith pouts. “I just don’t get why he flips around it all the time, man. I mean, one second he’s all smiles and nudging my shoulders, and the next he’s bright red and stomping away. He’s so confusing!”

Shiro can take this no longer.

“Keith, I am going to show you something,” he says, digging his phone out of his pocket and pulling up the file Hunk sent him. “Okay?”

“…Okay,” Keith says hesitantly.

Shiro stares at him for a moment longer. Then he sighs, shoves the phone into Keith’s hands, and presses play.

The video starts shaky, audio muddled, and when it clears Lance is lying sprawled on Hunk’s bed, pillow strewn dramatically to the side.

“I just wish I could get it through his fool head that he is loved by me particularly in such a way that I want to hold hands and kiss and generally be nuisances of the affectionate kind. You know, romance,” he is saying.

Keith goes still next to him. With every passing word his jaw drops lower and lower.

“You could also ask him out like a man,” Hunk is explaining.

“Choke and die,” responds video-Lance, and then the audio cuts. Shiro puts his phone away.

“So?”

“I have to go immediately,” Keith says. He’s up and halfway out the door before Shiro can blink.

“Shower first!” he calls. “You just sweated it up with the training hot for God knows how long. Wash off before you do anything romcom-y.” Keith disappears around the corner. “Keith, do you hear me? Shower first! Keith!”

———

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jikjinz · 9 months

Text

❝ [where is my mind] ¡! ❞

CONTAINS: treasure legal line (without mashi & yedam) x reader, separately; perverted behavior & thoughts, panty-stealing; suggestive themes, let me know if i should add something !!

TAGLIST: @he4rtsforjihoon @yedamies-blackswan @ahncosette

a/n: gotta repost some stuff ehe

✧.* CHOI HYUNSUK !!

a shy baby, definitely flustered by his own thoughts! But on the other hand, he just can’t resist it; his mind almost automatically wanders toward such things. definitely the type of guy who gets nervous and stiff every time you hug him because omg !!! you’re so close to him !!! He likes to watch your hands and lips, but he focuses on these parts purely mindlessly. though when he does, he can’t help but think. think hard. think hard to not think about how your hands would look in his, how your hands would look around his length, or how your lips would feel on his neck. when he catches himself thinking so, all he wants is to disappear; there’s no way you’re interested in him, right? right?

more under the cut !!

✧.* PARK JIHOON !!

he is cocky indeed, though there’s one exception: you. every time you’re around, he either gets quiet or too loud and angry. it seems like he doesn’t like you that much, at least that’s what everyone thinks. in reality, he likes you way too much. sometimes it even physically hurts. especially when he’s trying to get off, but his hand is not enough. he needs you. neither your panties he’s stolen nor the images he has in mind with you can help. all he needs is your pretty hole and your shaky pleading voice. At this point, he’s sure you are provoking him, although he has brought this upon himself while stealing your first pair of panties. since then, you try to test his limits and see how fast he breaks.

✧.* KANEMOTO YOSHINORI !!

“don’t test me, i will cry at you” type of guy. another shy and flustered baby. he tries to justify himself thinking that you’re doing this all on purpose. it looks like you want to make him so dirty, don’t you??? and all he can do about it is just scream into his pillow because there’s no way he can make it happen !!! he gets so blushy every time you talk to him; most of the time it’s you who do the talking since yoshi is too focused on keeping his burning desires solely for him. there is NO way he’s confessing to you. not at all. definitely not. nu-uh. though when you look at him with those doe eyes… he might break… keep it up!!!

✧.* KIM JUNKYU !!

the scared screamer type. every time he has a dirty thought about you, he will hit those high notes, scaring you off as well. will try to keep you as far away as possible, so maybe he’ll forget about you. forget about you and about what he would want to do with you. he tends to daydream about you a lot, like A LOT. doesn’t matter what he’s doing or where he is, his mind tends to go back to your body nicely hugged by the tightest dress he’s ever seen you in. then a loud scream occurs because poor boy scared himself with such thoughts :(((

✧.* YOON JAEHYUK !!

he is on the edge. he is being tested, he knows that. he also knows he is about to break. break his composure and the bed he’s gonna fuck you on if you’re gonna keep testing him like that. at this point, it looks like some kind of competition. the tension is strong between you both, but neither of you wants to admit it. since you are so obvious, he’s taking few advantages of certain situations. every time you wear a nice shirt with few buttons undone, he will stare at your cleavage shamelessly. probably will leave a comment about how your boobs would look better with his marks all over them.

✧.* HAMADA ASAHI !!

he is way too cool for his own good. he’s pushing all these lewd thoughts for way too long!!! he is about to combust with them !!! even though he often says that he’s ok, he is not. definitely not. not at all especially when its summer and you’re eating popsicles. or when you’re too hungry to care about how you look while eating a banana. it’s not like you ever cared, though. you’re too innocent to even think someone else would think lewdly about such a mundane thing, right? either too innocent or too blind to notice how asahi is turning his strawberry-red face away, covering it up with his hand. nah, he’s ok.

| TREASURE MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST |

@ jikjinz / @ ness-iness 2022-2023, do not copy, do not translate or paste on other sites without permission !!

#fics: treasure #treasure headcanons #choi hyunsuk #park jihoon #yg treasure #yoon jaehyuk #junkyu #treasure smut

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pervertedreams · 2 years

Text

𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐞.𝐦

summary: you go to run some errands for your father, but on your way back home your car breaks down. eddie is more than happy to help, but unfortunately you have no money. you don’t mind giving pretty boy a little exchange do you?

cw: mechanic!eddie, farmer!reader, reader has a slight southern accent, eddie is older, m receiving, angst?? ig, afab!reader, fem!reader, creampie

feedback on this would actually be so appreciated cause im proud of this one!

minors shooo ! (not proof read) moodboard for this fic

“shit shit shit.” you swear, vulgar words muffled over the red lollipop you’ve been sucking on. you’ve been out all day handling business while your dad handles things back at the farm, but somehow someway on your way back you’ve gotten lost. all the roads around here look the same, and you should know them from the back of your hand. but sometimes you still get lost. after driving all this time, your car is starting to slow down and you have not a clue where you are.

the harsh rippling sound of a busted tire echoes throughout the empty lands, anybody within fifty feet is gonna hear you coming. and eddie definitely did.

sitting up from his rusty wooden chair, he stands in the road as the sound gets closer and closer. you saw him way before his garage, a random man in the middle of the road. before you get the chance to shoo him off to the side, your car comes to a complete halt, making the entire car jerk to a stop. you slap your hands against the steering wheel in frustration before getting out of the car. your now filthy sneakers hitting the gravely ground, and skin again being exposed to the southern heat.

“why the hell we’re you in the way?” you’re now shouting at the tall man before you, you gotta blame somebody right? he was definitely older, not too much maybe in his late twenties. you wanna bet twenty-seven. his hair is longer than most of the men around your way, daddy would definitely call him a girl. his black wife beater clung to his body deliciously, you must admit he was attractive. big nose and full lips, his build wasn’t too bad either. but your attraction to this stranger wasn’t important right now.

“i heard you comin’ down a mile away, sweetheart. y’need any help?” his voice is muffled too, lips fixing around the wobbly lit cigarette in his mouth. “i need a mechanic.” you whine.

“then you’ve come to the right place!” he smiles around the cig, waltzing closer to you and your now broken vehicle. he’s eyed you down as well. jean overalls with a pair of dusty white sneakers to match, nails are neatly painted and they match the bandana handing out of your pocket. hair in two low braids so it won’t be on your neck in the heat, and lips stained from the red lollipop you were sucking on. he definitely was paying attention to that, but unfortunately that was the least of his worries.

“it’s clear you got a flat tire-“ he’s using his cigarette to point around the car, “and probably a dead battery.”

“can you please fix it, sir?” your voice is painted with nothing but southern sweetness ‘sir’ is gonna replay in his head forever. “you can call me eddie.” if he didn’t stop you now, the two of you would be breaking a sweat in the backseat. not that you’d complain.

“eddie can you please help, papa is waiting at home for me.” you plead, he can’t help but think of other ways those pretty red-stained lips would plead for him. he takes a puff of his cigarette with a nod, “y’gonna have to help me push this to the garbage, doll.” you nod coming up next to him, behind the car in an attempt to push it further down the road.

he can’t help but stare when you bend over, how your overalls cling in a way that he can see the cup of your ass. so tempting, but again not his priority. so the two of you try your best to make it to his garage.

—

“here should be about good enough.” y’all finally bring the silver truck to a pause, stopping at eddie’s heated garage. as if it wasn’t already hot enough. you lean against your hot truck, the heat stinging your already warm flesh. you watch as he struts towards his tools and equipment, you can’t help but giggle at the sight of his ass. you like the way it looks.

“what’re you over there gigglin’ about?” his smirk is mimicking yours, digging in his dirty toolbox for the proper items. you shake your head, the slick sucking sound of your lollipop makes his stomach clench.

“m’not gigglin’ at anything sir.” you shrug, feet kicking against the dirt.

“eddie.” he quickly corrects, earning yet another chuckle from you.

he comes towards you with a few metal tools and something that looks like a box with two clipping cords. you think it’s jumper cables but what do you know. you should know these things, but you could care less as long as there’s someone else to do it for you. you notice his muscles slightly flex as he lifts the hood of the car and begins working on it. your heavy stare is making him nervous, making it harder to focus on the task at hand.

attempting to break the silence he finally speaks up, “so what’re you doin’ around these parts lil’ lady?”

“nothin’ was runnin’ some errands for daddy n’ got lost.”

he hums, using the hood rod to prop it up in place. he’s looking over at you, this time it’s his time to stare. “like what you see googly eyes?”

“do you have a way of paying for this?”

you shake your head.

“don’t have anymore of daddy’s money left?”

“no sir.” you’re closing the space between the two of you, now bumping arms. you watch how his adam’s apple bobs before looking at his full lips. you’re still sucking on your lollipop, he swallows at your cheeks hallowing around the sweet candy. eventually you neglect the tasty treat for his bitter cigarette. giving him eye contact as you pull it from his lips before taking a heavy drag.

“there’s gotta be another way i could pay right?” you’re batting your lashes, pressing your jean clad chest to his arm. that’s when he realizes you weren’t wearing anything beneath the overalls. “give me a moment on your truck, and i’ll get to your payment as quick as possible.” you flash him a sweet smile before taking a space back in your previous spot.

some time has past, the sun is already started to set. not that it was super bright when you arrived anyways. you’re nothin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, and you both notice the lingering stares at each other. you’re ogling at his glistening arms, he’s peaking at the bead of sweat running from your neck and down the hidden valley between your breasts. you’ve finished his cigarette and your lollipop by now, sat on a crate you’re now looking up at him waiting to give your exchange. giving him big doe eyes, a visual of a similar position he might see really soon.

“so you from around here at all?” you finally chirp. at first he blinks down at you with a lost expression. the way you were sat did give his perverted brain all the privilege to wander. getting a good view of everything.

“no ma’am. from the city.” you nod telling him you figured he was, due to his accent. the heavy sound of a lid dropping makes you perk up, indicating that the job was finally done. and you could finally let out your frustrations. you step forward towards eddie, closing the gap between the two of you, chest to chest.

without warning, you’re palming him through his jeans. the heaviness from his hard on makes your hand curve around it. “i knew it.” eddie is taken by surprise, didn’t think a little lady like you would be so forward, be so bold. “woah now lil’ lady. y’don’t waste any time do you?”

“nope.” you pop the ‘p’ before bringing both your hands around his neck, “y’gunna let me pay you or what?”

he puts his arms up in defense, “be my guest.” you give him that same sugary sweet smile from earlier, getting on your tippy toes to place as kiss beneath his jaw. then his neck, then back to his cheek. eddie’s eyes are closed, hands gripping the side of the vehicle to steady himself. all the pinned up tension is slowly releasing itself with each wet kiss you place.

“i bet you wanna kiss me don’t you.” your hot breath heats the side of his neck, lips brushing against the pale skin. he opens his eyes again to look down at you before placing an unaimed kiss on your lips. the both of you moan into each other, this sudden rush of desperation getting stronger and stronger by the minute. he's drinking down any moan or whimper you let out greedily.

your brings your manicured hands over his shoulders and down his chest, lowering yourself as you glide down his frame. he has quite the muscle to be so skinny, you thought.

you’re now leveled with this crotch, dick fighting against his dark pair of jeans. you decide to give it some relief by unzipping his pants. the small sigh from him doesn’t go unnoticed by you when you start paling him again. but this time through his thin boxers.

“don’t wanna take too long. don’t want daddy coming and looking for me.” you give him a fake pout, hands reaching for the waistband of his underwear to finally pull him down. eddie winces at the way his painfully hard cock springs against his belly.

you hum greedily, finally placing your hands around his shaft. you give him a squeeze or two, spitting on your hand for lube. the sloshing sound of your spit slicking around his dick has him rolling his eyes back. “haven’t gotten any head since i moved here.” he pathetically admits.

“well today is your lucky day isn’t it?” without warning, you’re wrapping your lips around his pink tip, tongue swirling around and prodding at his hole. you can smell his musk, can smell his arousal and it’s intoxicating. all it does is egg you on to take him in deeper. earning a wobbly whimper from him, he’s now patting your hair with his ring clad hands, stroking your hair until both hands are wrapping around your braids.

he holds you still, stopping your from bobbing your head around his length. his paste starts off slow as he starts bucking his hips towards you face. you try your best to open your mouth as wide as you can, and to loosen you throat up for him. regardless of your attempts, he can feel your throat spasm against his thickness. hitting the back of your throat the quicker he goes, brain fuzzy as he lets out moan after moan. the sounds coming from the two of you are lewd, thank god no one lives around these parts cause it’s be painfully obvious what the two of you were up too.

the sounds of you gagging around his shaft, your spit frothing a ring around his cock and your mouth, his lewd whimpering as his mushy tip hits the back of your throat repeatedly. it’s complete filth.

“you’re like a fucking wet dream come to life.” he groans through his teeth, trying his hardest not to spew his warm cum down your throat. as delicious as that sounds, he’s gotta be inside you. he’s gotta see what that pretty ol’ cunt of yours looks like.

after a few more bobs, he pulls you off his cock by your braids, a lewd squelching sound echoing as he pulls himself from your throat. globs of saliva connecting you two together before dribbling off his tip and thudding onto the ground. you knees are sore against the gravel, ground scratching and stinging at your delicate skin.

you finally stand up, brushing the dirt and gravel off of your bruised knees. he’s already peeling your overalls off your shoulders, jean fabric tickling you as he slowly slides it down your arms. eddie’s leaning down to place a kiss at the junction between your shoulder and neck, then a kiss on your collar bones. “i need to be inside you, sweetheart.” his tone is desperate, wet lips grazing your skin as he speaks. “cumming inside of you would be the ultimate payment. what’d you think?”

you arch towards him when he takes one of your sore nipples between his thumb and index, head rolling back when you hum in agreement. after pinching and pulling for a bit, he finally crouches down to take a nipple in his mouth. mimicking what you did earlier, he sucks at the nub, swirling his tongue around it. eventually he pulls off it with a ‘pop’, admiring the now swollen nipple.

he peels the overalls down further, exposing more of your bare stomach. he’s grazing his fingers across your body, and your soaking him all in. your open your eyes to look around occasionally, but you’re both sure no one’s creeping around here now that the day is winding down.

“don’t forget about daddy.” you whine in his hair. the sound of his dark chuckle goes straight to your buzzing pussy. it’s like your whole body is on fire. “daddy will be fine. you’re a big girl hmm?” it’s you’re turn to smile this time. you could care less about arriving home at your fathers preferred curfew. eddie’s right, you are grown, handling grown folks business. and the most you’d get is a lecture and a shitty chore anyways, mind as well enjoy your fun.

your overalls are completely off by now, jeans pooling at your ankles like eddie’s once was. you giggle at the fact that his dick has just been dangling this whole time. but that smile quickly contorts your an open mouth moan, when he places his hand flat against your mound, underwear creating a addictive friction against your clit. he’s slowly running circles through your panties, satisfied with the way your rut your hips against his hand. filthy with the way you fuck yourself on his palm.

he’s close, mouth grazing the shell of your ear, “pull em’ down for me, doll.” there’s that smile again when your turn around on the balls of your feet. bending over as your wiggle yourself out of your panties. his lip trapped beneath his teeth as he watches you.

fucking minx.

when you finally kick them off, you help when you feel his large hands pull at your hips. swinging your around to push you up against your car, gasping at the way your erect nipples press against the now cold car door. he’s grunting on the back of your neck when he rushes to kick your foot up, wasting no time to finally slip himself inside of your sopping hole. a sigh of relief come out the both of you, felt like you’ve been waiting for this moment forever. he’s grabbing you by your chin, back not pressed to his chest so he can get a good look at you. you’re in pure bliss, you choke and pant with a slack jaw as his speed quickens. sobbing when he brings his free hand to rub circles along your sore clit. your body is completely out of your control with the way you’re rutting against him. the sounds of your bodies slapping against each other is egging the two of you on.

“jesus fucking— fuck.” it’s like he’s knocking the wind out of you, and he’s not even going that hard. that’s just how horny you are. he’s giving you everything you need and more. the boys that usually linger around here aren’t this good. maybe you should find city boys more often.

a certain buck of his hips has you going silent, pleasure too overwhelming to make a sound, just him moaning, and your ass slapping against his pelvis. his chin is hooked over your shoulder, “please tell me you’re close, doll. i can’t hold out much longer.”

your clit is aching, walls pulsating around his shaft, jaw slack with empty moans, eyes rolls back so hard it hurts, your lips are swollen from all the biting, you’re a filthy mess. you can feel it bubbling in the pit of your stomach, and just the right rut of his skilled hips makes you snap. a spew of incoherent whines come falling out of your tongue, saying anything that pops in that cock drunk kind of yours. your body is exhausted, now going limp as he’s still fucking you to reach his high. the sob at the overstimulation of your cunt.

you whine a small “shit.” when he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, using that as the only way of grounding himself as he fills you to the brim. hot streams of his cum filling right inside of you, panting you hold onto your truck trying to keep yourself up. you’re both tired and sweaty, hot pants against each other’s skin as he holds you closer.

there’s a shlicking sound as he pulls out of you, beads of his cum falling right after. what a sight to see.

feedback on this would actually be so appreciated cause im proud of this one!

#had to get this out of my system #my work┊ ˚➶ ｡˚#trailer park daddy ┊͙♡ *ೃ༄#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson concept #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson x reader

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joesheistyy · 1 year

Text

PMS

Am I on my period rn? Yes. Do I just want Joe to hold me? Even more yes. Have I already written something about cramps? Yes. So I’m sorry it’s low key a repeat

��—

You and Joe were finally having a chill day. No plans but to relax and recover from your busy schedules.

The morning had gone like any typical morning, breakfast and coffee for you and working out for Joe. But, it was one of those days where nothing sounded appetizing. One of those days where something just felt off.

You had been sitting on the couch watching the news and crocheting when Joe came into the living room. He was still a bit sweaty from his workout.

“Watchu doin babe?” He questioned as he sat down next to you on the couch. A little too close for comfort considering how sweaty he was. You normally wouldn’t mind it, but something about having a sweaty and stinky boy in your personal bubble rubbed you the wrong way.

“Crocheting,” you replied simply with a sigh. Joe leaned into you more, his head resting on your shoulder. You tried to not let it irritate you.

You continued to focus on the stitches as Joe leaned more into you. His weight quickly became too much. You set your project down in your lap and tried to push him off of you a little bit.

“Am I bothering you?” He asked as he sat up, taking the hint that he needed to get off of you.

“No, your big ol head was just getting heavy,” you joked with him trying to lighten your mood. Luckily, he didn’t take offense to that. You two joked about his head all the time.

Joe got up to head to the kitchen to make some lunch for himself. You laid down on the couch, putting your crochet up and deciding to focus your attention on the TV.

Joe came back to the couch after making a sandwich and putting some chips on his plate. He sat down by your feet and began to eat. He knew you absolutely could not stand the sound of crunching and chewing, but he hoped your focus was more on the TV.

He began to eat, after the first handful of chips, you shot him your signature glare of if you don’t quit chewing so loudly I’m gonna blow.

He chucked like he usually does when you send him that glare, not knowing you were majorly PMSing. Joe continued to eat and crunch and you eventually snapped.

“I gotta leave the room,” you huffed in an aggressive manner, grabbing your crochet project and walking to the kitchen.

“Babe whyyyy,” Joe whined out as you walked out of the living room.

“Because I cannot tolerate the sound of you crunching so loud. You know this,” you said forcefully from the kitchen. Sitting at the island with a glass of water and your craft, you tried to calm your energy and focus on the task in your hands.

Joe finished his lunch and came into the kitchen. He saw you sitting at the island and figured he’d show you some love. He came over and wrapped his arms around you. Sometimes when he did this, it almost felt like he was choking you just because of the angle.

When his hands reached each other with them wrapped around your shoulders, you grabbed ahold of his forearms and shoved them off of you.

“Babe what the fuck is wrong with you?” Joe looked at you in a shocked manner.

“Joe I don’t know. I think I’m PMSing bad and I can’t handle many sounds or touching or anything right now,” you stood up to go to your shared bedroom. Joe followed you. While you did love snuggles when you felt like this, you only liked them when Joe didn’t stink and when he was shirtless and clean. His smell calmed you when many others had the ability to make you nauseous.

You crawled into bed, making sure to get under all the layers of blankets. Joe was about to get into bed with you when you held out your hand for him to stop.

“Joseph you have got to go shower if you want to get in this bed,” you said as you held your ground.

“Fine,” he huffed off to the shower.

As you snuggled into the bed even more, you heard Joe get in the shower. You were looking forward to him being clean. At this point in the day, you wanted to be held. Plus, you felt a little guilty for acting the way you did earlier.

Your eyes fluttered shut until you heard the bathroom door open and Joe’s footsteps echo throughout the room. He was wearing his Seinfeld sweatpants and didn’t have a shirt on. You were so lucky that he knew what you needed.

Joe climbed in bed and you scooted over for him to have room.

“C’mere babe,” he said as he got under the blankets with you, pulling you into his large frame.

He knew how badly you loved to lay on top of him when you felt like this. Some periods were worse than others, but the worst PMS symptoms called for snuggles.

You climbed on top of Joe, your head resting on his chest. His arms snaked their way around your waist and rested on your butt. You breathed in the smell of his body wash and enjoyed the feeling of his warm chest. Snuggles like this could solve any problem in the world.

Joe rubbed your back as you drifted off into a nap. After years of being together, he was slowly but surely learning how to take care of you to the best of his ability.

——

Sorry this is bad besties, I’m so exhausted and busy lately and I wish I had more time to write 😭 I love y’all, thank you for 450 followers!!!

#joe burrow #bengals quarterback #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fic #joe sheisty #bengals #nfl imagine #nfl #joe burrow blurb #joe burrow x reader

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kthecutest · 6 months

Note

what kinks do you think jo (&team) has? also, what he'd be into? thank you ~~

Jo's kinks:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ

༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈•༶

Genre : NSFW (づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ 🥕 A/N ೃ⁀➷ MINORS DNI ( ≖‿ ≖ )I genuinely feel like Jo doesn't match with any of the wild common kinks that are found very often, so I had to dig a little deeper into the kink world to pick out some rare but suitable ones for his type :3

Size Kink

First thing that comes to mind when we’re talking about this giant child, it’s gotta be the SIZE. Like we know how tall this kid is compared to all of us and we know that, the height isn’t the only huge value on his body okay. Mans would definitely be so into just staring at the place where your pussy and his length connect as he slides in and out and would probably drool seeing his ENORMOUS cock being able to fit into your tight little pussy. Seeing that alone would give him extra stamina, this mans will start speeding up his thrusts and will be able to go on for so many rounds to the point that you’d be on the verge of passing out and will be trying to push him off only to no avail.

Bulge Kink

This goes hand in hand with the size kink. We know for a fact that the outline of his cock would be visible through your stomach and he just loves to see it to the point that he’d start putting you in positions where he could hit the spot more often and will get to see the bulge. If y’all were in a position where he can’t really see the full view of your stomach, his long hands will still reach beneath you and press at the bulging outline forming on your skin. Might as well feel it if he can’t see right? Best position if it’s something like missionary of course. It might be considered basic or vanilla but he gets the view of the bulge and also can easily press on it whenever he wants; so it’s a win for him.

Gagging Kink

Goes along with the size kink reallllly well. Like Jo would get off so much on getting to see his huge length fit right in your mouth and sometimes even poking at your cheeks. Would love when you complain that your jaw’s already hurting but doesn’t give a shit – the boy just wanna act mean once in a while you know. Would take the chance of you distracted with your own complaints to grip your hair aggressively before moving your head aggressively up and down his length. Jo can’t help but flash a silent smile when he gets to see your broken expression with tears and drool dripping down your cheeks and mouth.

Food Play

Jo loves food, he REALLLLLY loves food and one thing he loves as much is YOU. And it’s only the best when he gets to combine his two favorites. The most common item he’ll use in this play is probably something sweet like whip cream or fruits. Would apply the cool whip cream on your nipples and all over your pussy. He’d really be so into just digging into his meal, you’d even find him sometimes getting more aggressive unlike his usual gentle self. It just tastes too good, could you blame him? Sometimes would also plate sushi and sashimi all over you like in those luxury restaurants. He’s also a hella artistic person so you’d probably even mistake him as an actual experienced person at this kind of thing at times – which he is absolutely.

Temperature Play

Part 2 of Food play but instead Jo decides to use ice. The idea randomly popped up in his head while going to the freezer to get a cool popsicle. The boy returned to the living room with a bucket of ice and the popsicle itself. You’d have no idea and just follow his words when he tells you to lie down. You’re only alerted when you felt a cold icy touch travelling all over your body until you feel something freezing prodding at your entrance. You’d hear stuff shuffle around behind you before the long, stick-like object with a low chilling temperature push past the entrance and deeper into you, as you feel a contradicting warmth above you – “Babe.. it’s pretty hot today right? I think you might want a cold treat”

Brush Play

Kinda goes hand in hand with his artistic talent. We know how good Jo’s arts are and we also know that he loves to draw. But sometimes he’d just prefer you rather than his normal canvas. Also goes along with the factor – Bondage. Jo would have to tie you down most of the time, probably in a really erotic or artistic way and then starts his brush work. He’d dip his soft brush into the ink and start doodling all over your exposed skin. But for your hole, a clean brush would be used. He’d spend hoursss teasing your clit and folds and you’d whine spontaneously, begging him to stop teasing you. When he’s had enough of edging you enough, he’d thrust the tool into your wet hole and have your restrained figure squirm around from the itch and pleasure.

Aftercare

We do not even need to MENTION how SWEET and GENTLE this boy would be after all the messy horny shit. Would treat you like a ball of glass. Would carry you straight into the bathroom – I guess in a way of flexing his height and his body size comparing to your petite body. Would place you in a nice warm cozy bath and gets in together with you; you two would probably be in there for like an hour, just soaking up the humid heat and sharing body warmth.

Next morning? - Would try to make some food for you and wrap you in a cozy thick blanket – “Hun, you don’t have to do anything today ok?” Kisses your cheek knowing you still can’t move from all the heated shit that went down the earlier night. Would go downstairs to the kitchen to make you breakfast and will secretly giggle and blush when he recalls the events that occurred. You could easily tell his secretive actions though, by the time he’s returned with the dishes – I guess Jo is just bad at hiding his reddened little ears.

#&team #andteam #&team imagines #&team scenarios #&team hard hours #&team hard thoughts #&team x reader #&team smut #andteam smut #&team jo #andteam jo #asakura jo #testing out new kinks??

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hypocriticaltypwriter · 7 months

Note

Okay so the baby vamps is there anything that scared the boys at first while taking care of them?

I have baby vamps but right now I can’t remember their names. But I can remember the baby vamps I gave Star names

OK FIRST OFF... You gotta tell me/share more about your baby vamps to me some time!! I'd love to hear about them! And tell me those names too!🥺🥺

And to answer your question for yours truly, I'm gonna ramble a little if you don't mind~ 🤭

Now... Were the boys scared of anything in fatherhood?

𝔻𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕕

The thing that scared David when it came to taking care of both Anastasia and Chris was feeding... And not the feeding you think!

It was just eating in general- especially when they started to ween off of milk onto baby food and blood. Baby vampires tend to have quite an appetite when developing and he had such an anxiety of choking its not even funny. 😅

It was actually kind of hard to spot this little fear since David seemed the most collected and calm through the early months of parenthood... But Chrysta started to notice how he'd always stare very laser focused while she fed Annie or he'd lean or rock/shift uncomfortably a lot in his chair while never breaking eye contact when she would feed Chris.

And the second one of them would cough cause they got some milk or blood down the wrong pipe, or they gagged on the spoon- even if they made a face at a new texture or taste of baby food, all Chrysta had to do was blink and David was already up on his feet quickly pacing toward her and perching himself behind her to watch or aid.

"Is she choking?"

"No, David, she's just got a little food down the wrong tube."

"Her face looks red."

"It's her natural blush, baby."

"Make her eat slower. Kid's giving me a damn heart attack."

"I can't control that hun-"

𝙿𝚊𝚞𝚕

Literally anytime Tiffany cried Paul would start panicking. Was she hungry? Hurt? Fussy? Was it his fault?

As soon as he saw that bottom lip start quivering, and her eyes start to get glossy, he's already calling for Chrysta nervously.

He can't help but feel guilty afterward, sometimes he feels like he's leaving all the hard stuff for Chrysta to figure out cause he's too scared for the first time in his life of messing up. 🥺

But Chrysta was able to help him through it. Anytime he'd come to her for help, she'd simply walk him through what to do while letting him get experience till he felt a little more confident. He's much better now at it, even if he still goes into panic mode for a couple of minutes before the Daddy senses kick in.

"I don't think I'm cut out for this, Mamas..."

"You're doing just fine, Paul. See? She was just crying for her Dad."

"I guess..."

"Just wait, once those daddy senses kick in, you'll be able to handle it like a champ."

𝘿𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙣𝙚

Legit everything about being a girl-dad terrified this poor man. Sure, he's raised Laddie as one of his own, and even besides that he's pretty good with kids- but when Jennifer was born, boy was he a wreck- especially due to the fact Chrysta was gonna be recovering a lot for the first few months after some birth issues.

I mean, this little girl fit in both palms of his large hands, and she was so fragile and delicate he was afraid of even breathing on her in fear she'd just break like porcelain in his arms.

He was used to being more rough and playful with Laddie, and his other coven members too, but now that he had a "little lady" on his hands, he was so scared of even letting her getting a scratch on the knee.

He was so cautious and careful of his baby girl- even to this day! Just watch this tall, quiet, brooding, and intimidating vampire go into papa bear mode when his little girl comes running up to him with tears in her eyes saying he needs to kiss the ouchy on her finger better. 🥺😭

ꪑꪖꪹƙꪮ

I've mentioned or stated before that Kat is a climber- on other things other than using Marko as her personal jungle gym.

You should watch this weird-footed toddler climb the walls of the hotel, and crawl upside down from the rafters while running away from Marko, thinking it's the funnest game to play when daddy wakes up!

Marko has different thoughts on this 'game'... 😬 wanna see Marko freak out for the first time in his life? Watch him scramble around with his arms stretched out in fear of Katherine above slipping and falling all the way down. Thankfully, she never has.

If there's one thing he wishes she never got, it was his reckless nature and dumbass energy.😔

#cherry answers #ask #cherry rambles #🍒daily dose of cherry🍒#the lost boys #tlb #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #the lost boys oc #tob david #tlb marko #tlb paul #tlb dwayne #tlb x reader #tlg #tlg au #the lost girls #the lost girls au

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carolmunson · 1 year

Text

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.”

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