!⚠️DNI! FEMALE READERS AND MINORS⚠️!

Make Me Sway (Thomas Hewitt x Reader) + RQs info

Summary: After going on a road trip with your friends, you become the sole survivor of the group, trapped in the Hewitt’s residence, because Thomas doesn’t like the idea of you getting killed as you show him humanity and fearlessness in the face of death.

Part 1

Part 2 and 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9 (NSFW)

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14 (NEW, I am back <3)

Notes: This story happens somewhere between the events of Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning (2006) and Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003)

Warnings: Violence, Mention of rape, Trauma

Content: Reader has moodswings due to trauma, and is acting on irrational impulses, however has a strong/fearless personality, wittiness and calm nature despite the circumstances, Thomas is confused by his emotions, he knows he should kill you, but he doesn’t want to, Fluff/Smut coming your way 

REQUESTS INFO:

What I will write:

NSFW

SFW

Headcanons

Oneshots

Who I write for:

Thomas Hewitt

Michael Myers

Jason Voorhees

Brahms Heelshire

Bubba Sawyer

One-eye/Sawtooth/Three-finger (Hilliker brothers)

All League of Legends champions

Anime characters

Story/Character Arc Writing Resources

How to Write a Compelling Character Arc

Character Development and Finding Nemo

On Simple Story Arcs

9 Steps to Building a Strong Plot

3 Questions to Help Solve Plot Problems ~~~ ~Grand List of Writing Resources~

Has this been done before? Probably. 😂

Consider, RZ Michael and Thomas with a s/o who likes to play with their hair. Like braiding it or just absent minded playing with it

Sorry this took so long!! I wrote and rewrote it so many times over the past couple days tryin' to get it right. Still not the happiest with it but I hope it's what you had in mine!

Summary: RZ Michael and Thomas with a s/o who likes to play with their hair.

Warnings: Suggested NSFW-ish, mentions of abuse and bullying

Wordcount: 1.5k

Michael Myers

Not gonna lie to ya chief, Michael doesn’t strike me as the kind of dude to give a flying fuck what happens to his hair. Or his body. Like, the dude gets shot, stabbed, slashed, burned throughout all the movies. I highly doubt his hair would be where he drew the line.

But, the act itself is intimate, personal. That IS something he gives a fuck about. It unnerves him. Years of isolation, cruelty from staff, harsh touches, and rough treatment? Getting close enough to even raise a hand to him without his own snatching your wrist into a vice grip would take time and patience. A lot of it.

Once your relationship with him finally grew enough, and he allowed your touch without smacking away your hand or walking out the door, you could get away with a lot when it comes to him.

Michael’s never had someone to touch him tenderly besides his mama all those years ago. So touch him with love, with care. The fucked up wires in his brain would uncross, reconnect and he’d eventually realize how much he actually enjoyed it. He’d soak it up like a sponge.

Now, playing with his hair? That all started out as something you would do when you could wrangle him onto the couch to watch a movie or a show with you in the evenings when he wasn’t prowling around the neighborhood. Always bribing him at first. “I’ll buy you a bag of Reese’s if you watch a movie with me,” or “I’ll make you a cherry pie if you sit with me while I work.” Every time, your hands would twitch when his hair brushed over his shoulders, when it swayed as he turned to look at you. Your thoughts filled with “What if’s” and ”What’s it like-”

It made watching the movie or focusing on whatever you were working on a nightmare.

Of course, in the end, you couldn’t resist touching it. Once you’d forced him into the habit of showering and using hair products, the blonde locks that sprouted from his head looked like gold strands of silk. And it felt like it too. It didn’t take long for your resolve to break down. He watched you like a hawk the first time your fingertips grazed his hair, piercing baby blues peering down at you. They’d shift to your hands for only a second, unnoticed by you, then back to your face. The only time people had touched his hair was when he was getting man-handled in Smith’s Grove, or when victims were trying to claw their way out of his grasp, desperate hands fisting into the silicone mask and catching his hair in the process.

But you weren’t them, and he wasn’t in Smith’s Grove anymore. You were the one who bought him candy and made him pies, so he let you sink your hands in and brush away those memories with every stroke.

Sometime down the line, if you're really lucky and hummed whatever melody came to mind in a soft enough voice, pressed the pads of your fingers into his scalp nice and slow, his eyes would close and his shoulders would just barely sag.

But only sometimes, it is Michael after all.

Congrats, you trained the boogeyman to let you touch his hair! After that, he wouldn’t care if you braided pieces of it, it’s not any different than you running your hands through it in his book, If you left them in and tied them off, he won’t take them out until he finally showers. The only reason he’d tug them out is if they got in the way or made his mask sit funny. Other than that, expect to see them when he comes home after hunts all frazzled and out of place.

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas is a whole different story though. This man was bullied his entire life, called all the names in the book, hit and beat by students and teachers alike. He was undeniably called a sissy, weak like a girl, every other bullshit insult towards femininity in the book. C’mon, it’s Texas. While braids aren’t inherently feminine, the only people he saw at school for the short time he was there wearing braids was the girls in his class, sporting lil' pigtail braids.

Because of all this, braids would mainly be off the table for him. Especially when Hoyt stormed into your shared bedroom one time and let out a slew of crude jokes at Tommy’s expense. He’d probably let you get away with it if you and him alone, just the two of you. Hidden away from Hoyt’s yappin’ and howlin’ in the basement, or laid somewhere on a blanket in a field under an old oak. But before anyone at home could lay eyes on em’, to your dismay, he’d softly pry them out. He’d be feeling really guilty about ruining such fine work though.

Just running your hands through his hair though? Petting his head, fixing any stray fly always with your cute hands on him? He’s fine with that. Absolutely fine with it. Hell, he’d practically melt every time.

It’d always start in the mornings when the early rays of sun start to peek through the curtains over the windows. They’d slowly shift through the old room as the next hour passes, finally tilting through the glass window panes just enough to kiss his face and start to rile him from his sleep. He’d always give a heavy sigh when stirring from whatever dream he was gifted, somehow always feeling like he didn’t seem to get enough rest. Then again maybe that’s just what farm life is like. Especially when he’s been the only real able-bodied adult in the house. Luda Mae and Hoyt can still get around, but all the tuff labor gets shucked onto his shoulders, and after so many years of it he can’t help but be a little worn down.

You’d be next rise from your joint slumber. Waking up with Tommy would mean waking up curled into his side with his arm around you, holding you against his warm body. Now and then your leg is found tangled in his, but almost always your arm would be limp, situated over his stomach. You’d stretch your fingers and try to blink away the drowsiness in your eyes while tilting your head back to look at him, hoping one day you’d catch him asleep. No luck this time. Droopy brown eyes would be looking down at you with adoration, the arm around you pulling you almost impossibly closer while his thumb rubs circles into the soft flesh on your back.

Another few minutes would pass, and you’d find yourself laying on his belly, either by your own will or by his. A low hum would rumble through his thick chest as you slid your dominant hand up and through his chest hair, ever further till you reached his face. He is eyes would flutter close when your hands brushed against the scruff of his cheeks, and a sigh would have your body fall with his chest once they made purchase in his choppy brown hair. They’d dance through the gentle waves, and you’d feel him press into your touch, sighing as your fingertips slid against his scalp in mesmerizing ways.

Of course, it only lasted till someone started howlin’ Tommy’s name. But throughout the day you’d find moments when your hands could sink into his hair.

One is when you’d walk out to the barn with a cool glass of lemonade to give him while he works on fixing up one of the stalls. He’d set whatever he had in his hands down and take a seat on a nearby bale of hay, the furrow in his brow melting away when you hand him the glass. While he sipped on it you’d make idle conversation, your fingers finding themselves into their favorite spot.

Another is after dinner, whenever Luda Mae asks the two of you to clean up and handle the dishes. Thomas always insisted on washing, not wanting your hands getting dirtied unnecessarily. Forever stuck on drying duty. So for the first few minutes of him starting the water and getting everything soaked in the water, you’d steal the opportunity to hop up on the counter and scoot yourself as close to him as you could, hands reaching towards his hair as they always do.

That favorite, intoxicating feeling of it sliding through your fingers was usually bested by the soft groan of pleasure from the man that usually followed. It was an addicting little sound.

And sometimes it got you in the best kind of trouble.

omg I just watched terrifier 3 it was so good 😩!

I was wondering if you could do something on the reader being jealous of Vicky? I found that whole dynamic in the movie interesting, wanted to see your take on it 🤭

You Jealous?

Art the clown x reader

summary: you’re jealous of all the attention vicky is getting.

warning: this does have a little bit of T3 spoilers, some cussing, and demons.

when he left you, you died. spiritually tho but to you it still counts. those 5 years have been a hell of a ride for you, since your clown man was no where to be seen. i mean sure, he would still contact you through dreams and what not, but you miss seeing him eye to eye.

after those 5 years of pain, you finally saw him again. even tho he was decapitated, you were still so glad to see him again after all this time. but your mood shifted as soon as you saw his ‘work parter’ vicky. you knew she was another demon, but the way she acted around him made you so fucking mad. you help art with his plans, i mean what can you say? you loved him. but you’d rather it be just you that helped him.

you were glad she gave birth to him so you could see him again, but that’s was all she was good for. your clown man doesn’t deserve a demon like her, or whatever the fuck you wanna call her. you didn’t like her, because she always had his attention. you knew you couldn’t kill her, so why even try.

one day you couldn’t take it anymore, and that day was the time she was dressed like him. as soon as you saw her, your blood boiled as your vision got blurry, not with tears, but with anger and jealousy. why was he letting her get close to him? why her and not you? does he like her now? will he leave you? you had no answers to any of those questions that flooded your head.

as soon as art left the room for a moment, you knew it was your chance.

“what the fuck is you problem, huh? dressing like him, always sitting next to him, taking pictures with him, are you fucking okay??” you couldn’t control yourself, letting your anger run loose.

she turns her head and looks and you, before cracking that ugly smile on her face and laughing.

“aww is someone jealous??” she fakes pouts at you before slapping her knee with laughter. before you could attack her, art came back in the room and grabbed you. you yelled at him to let you go but it was no use. he was dragging you to a different room with him.

“the hell do you want art?!” you couldn’t help but yell at him. you took a second before realizing he heard the whole conversation you just had. you knew he was nosy little thing. he just looks at you before he starts gesturing something with his hands. he points to him and throwds the place vicky is at and shakes his head no. as if he’s saying don’t be jealous, me and her aren’t a thing. you could only look at him with and empty face.

he leans in and gives you a hug, the hug you’ve missed all these years. your head rests on his shoulder breathing in the scent of blood…and piss.

“art you’re taking a shower tonight.”

if you’d like a part 2 let me know!!

The continuation of tailor Astarion ✨️

it’s golden, like daylight

dilf!neighbour!steve x babysitter!neighbour!reader

summary: when moving to hawkins the last thing you expected to find was any sort of love. especially not from the single dad who lived with his daughter two doors down. after offering to babysit for steve when he’s in a bind, it becomes a regular thing. through weeks of stolen glances and secret whispers, your feelings for each other bloom into something more. with both of you unsure of how the other feels and wondering if any of this is right, things are bound to get tangled up. after a particularly confusing night, you and steve find yourselves with no where to look but at each other.

word count: 17.4k

warnings: 18+ content,singledad!steve and his daughter whose name is daisy, age gap (reader is in her early twenties and steve is in his early to mid thirties), lots of back and forth pining and flirting, so much miscommunication, minor angst that gets resolved, mentions of blood (reader cuts her hand on broken glass, nothing serious), steve patching up the reader ( but it is not described graphically), steve being the sweetest, smut, dirty talk, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, size kink, reader struggling to take steve, reader getting teary eyed during sex, happy ending

authors note: hello again! i know some of you are wondering where the third chapter of invisible string is, and i promise it’s coming, but this is what i’ve been working on the past three weeks. this is the longest fic i’ve ever written and so i’m feeling very proud of it and of myself. this idea is one i’ve had for months but finally got inspired enough to finish. i want to announce here that because the love i feel for this fic is so strong, i am making this an au! here on my blog! that means you can request fics or send asks about this story as well as i will be writing more for it in the future! i hope you all love it even half as much as i do! i need to give some attention to some amazing people as i post this. a big thank you to @mysticmunson for creating the header for this and for listening to me talk through every idea i had. another big thank you to @bejeweledmunson @petal-veined and @moonmistt for putting up with this being all i’ve spoken about for week! i love you all so so much. also… @loveshotzz here she is, the glorious dilf fic i promised and i’m so sorry it’s probably a lot softer than you were thinking!

The quaint town of Hawkins was nowhere near as bad as you had prepared yourself for it to be. Moving into small towns like this could be difficult, considering everyone knew each other and most inhabitants had lived there for their entire lives. 

Living in the city you were used to most people being relatively rude to strangers, everyone always having somewhere to be with no interest in small talk of any kind. You were pleased to see that the few people you had met were nothing short of kind and made you feel right at home. 

The weather of the town was much nicer than you were used to. The sun beamed down brightly, the sky a bright blue with fluffy clouds scattered throughout it. This fact had you forgetting about your unpacked boxes on your first day there. Instead you rushed to the nearest florist, buying different already bloomed flowers to plant in the front, making the rental home feel more like your own. 

You had only been living there for a week, your boxes all finally unpacked and you were comfortably settled. The neighbourhood you lived in was cozy, green grass on each lawn, mailboxes all looking freshly painted, and sidewalk chalk covering every other driveway. 

You were seated in your front window, enjoying your morning coffee as you flipped through a few pages of a book. Your mind was wandering to what you needed to get done, jotting down a few things as you spotted something out of your window. You looked once more after the first time, realising that it wasn’t something you were seeing, rather someone, a small someone. 

There was a small girl in your garden, looking around it as she carefully walked beside it. She couldn't have been older than seven, her steps still wobbly despite the attentiveness to each step she took. 

She had dark brown hair that was in one french braid along the back of her head, a few small clips holding any loose pieces of hair back. A pair of denim overalls sat on top of a light pink t-shirt, her little white shoes covered in dirt all over. 

You were unsure of what to do. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, but truthfully you didn’t want her destroying the garden that you had just planted days ago. You got up off the windowsill, making your way out your front door quietly, not wanting to startle the tiny girl. 

“Hi there.” You said sweetly as you walked down your front steps, watching as she slowly walked over to where you were. 

“Hi!” She lifted a hand close to her body, waving it shyly. Her voice was slightly frightened, but she was putting on her bravest face. You didn’t look all that intimidating, a fact that you were hoping would play to your favour in this situation. 

“I like your overalls.” You pointed to them, kneeling down next to her. “They’re very snazzy.” 

She giggled at your words, freckled nose scrunching up as she smiled. Her cheeks were a little red from the sun and what you assume playing outside in the heat. 

“I like your flowers.” She replied, looking back at them before turning to you again. “They’re very snaz-snazzy!”

You laughed at her attempt to use the word you just did, making her laugh a little harder this time. You wondered if it was normal for kids here to approach strangers the way she did, if the parents of Hawkins just trusted that no one here was a bad person. 

She held out her hand, a pile of beaded bracelets on her wrist. You took her hand in yours, her whole hand nearly fitting into your palm. 

“I’m Daisy.” She hummed, aggressively shaking your hand. “I live down there.” She pointed down your street at a big white and blue house. 

“Like the flower!” You gasped excitedly. “I’m Y/n, it’s a pleasure to meet you Daisy.” As she let go of your hand she began to play with her fingers, her mind searching for the correct words to say. 

“I was wondering…” She trailed off, looking everywhere but your face. “If-If I could have a few of your flowers…but they aren’t for me!” She exclaimed as if it would make her question sound more believable. 

“Who would they be for, sweet Daisy?" You inquired, lifting one of your knees from the ground, the hard pavement beginning to make it hurt. 

“For my dad!” She said happily. “It’s Father’s Day a-and I forgot to get him a present.” She winced, squinting as you copied her facial expression. “He never forgets my presents, and I feel not good.” 

Your heart was aching so hard your teeth were hurting. You were positive you had never met a kid this cute, nevermind this thoughtful. There was no way you could tell her no and send her away, knowing that it would weigh on your chest for the rest of your life. 

“I’ll tell you what.” You whispered, standing up fully but still bending so she could hear you. “I’ll help you put something together for your dad if you let me have one of those pretty bracelets.” 

It was not a fair trade in the slightest, but you weren't about to tell her that, not when she squealed with excitement, jumping up and down on your grass. 

“Thank you! Thank you!” She sang, grabbing your hand and dragging you to your garden. 

You let her pick whichever flowers her little heart desired, not surprised when she chose a few daisies as her final touches. You grabbed some newspaper and ribbon you had inside, putting the arrangement in the middle of it and tying it up to look somewhat presentable. 

“Do you know how to write?” You asked her, taking a pen and a small piece of construction paper. 

“Not very well.” She grumbled, making you let out a breathy laugh. “My dad lets me write while he helps!” You take her word for it, placing the paper on the wood of one of your stairs, leading her hand along the paper with yours as you write. 

“To dad.” She mumbles to you, telling you what she wanted the note to say. “I love you, from Daisy.” You see her nodding her head, content with her word choice. 

You finish the poor attempt at a note up, it being painfully obvious that she helped you write it, the words being barely legible. You were sure her dad wouldn’t care, you weren’t even positive he would care as much as she thought he would, a thought that made you worry this might have been a bad idea. 

As you finished putting it together, you watched her reach behind her neck, unclipping the beaded necklace and showing it to you. It was pink and white, with a flower charm sitting in the middle of it, a daisy. 

“Do you like that one?” Her eyes were hopeful. “It’s pink like your dress but you can pick a bracelet instead! No mean feelings! It matches so I thought it would be a better choice for you!” 

You assumed she meant ‘no hard feelings,’ which made you bite back a laugh. She was great at speaking for someone her age, but still struggled to pick the right words.  

It had a childproof clip on it, the odd one that you sort of just push together which really did make it easy for you to put on. It sat right between your collarbones, the size of it not quite being big enough for an adult, not that you minded. 

“This one is even more perfect than a bracelet, thank you, Daisy.” You tell her, handing her the bouquet. “Think it would be okay if I walked you home?” 

You thought it might be a good idea to take her home. You didn’t want her dad to think she was with a freaky stranger, but rather a neighbour, who was also a stranger, but one with no harmful intentions. 

“That sounds very okay to me!” She smiled at you, nodding her head as she reached for your hand. “I think my dads gonna love this with all his heart.”

“I sure hope he does.” You followed behind her, eyes widening as she began to run.

“Dad!” You heard her yell as she disappeared onto the property. 

The house was only two down from yours, their driveway being one of the many with chalk all over it. As you stepped onto the driveway you saw a man kneeled in front of her, his back turned to you. 

“They're beautiful, sweetie.” You could faintly hear his voice over the sound of someone mowing their lawn. You watched her explain something, hands flying all over the place. “Yes, I love them so much, best Father’s day ever.”

You walked up the driveway a bit further, still keeping a healthy distance. 

He engulfed her in a hug, holding the flowers behind her so that they wouldn’t get squished. When they separated he whispered something to her, the question making her look over his shoulder, pointing to you happily. 

His head turned to look at you, staring for a moment before he handed the flowers back to her, muttering something. She ran off into their backyard with the flowers, giving him a moment to stand to his full height. 

You had no idea what you were expecting Daisy’s dad to look like. Maybe someone much, much older than you, someone who wasn’t very attractive and who was possibly going to curse you out for talking to his child without him present. 

You were dead wrong. 

He wore a faded grey t-shirt, the words on it so worn out that you couldn't read them. His blue jeans had grass stains on them, only getting dirtier as he rubbed some dirt on the thighs of them as he approached you. He looked like he had been doing yard work of some sort, throwing the gloves he was wearing by the stairs that led to his side door. 

His hair was a pretty shade of brown, dark in most places but lighter in areas where the sun was kissing it. It was clearly long, but styled in a way that made it lay perfectly on the top of his head. The gold rimmed glasses that sat on his nose suited him well, complimenting the colour of his skin in a way that was extremely flattering. 

There was no way around admitting that the nameless man in front of you was the most handsome person you had laid eyes on in a very long time. 

The two of you stared at each other for longer than normal, not a word being exchanged as he stood in front of you. Each time you went to speak your words escaped you, only being able to smile brightly at him. 

It wasn’t everyday Steve found himself staring at anyone as breathtaking as you, nevermind having someone that enthralling standing on his driveway. 

The powdery pink dress you wore hugged you in all the right places, going all the way down to your ankles. The straps on the top of it were barely there, leaving the top part of your chest exposed. 

Everything from the bridge of your nose to the ends of your hair was radiant, leaving him speechless. He didn’t know if it was the sun's fault your skin looked so glowy or if you always carried such beauty with you. 

He wasn’t ignorant to the fact that you were seemingly younger than him, hoping that his staring wasn’t coming off in a way that would make you feel uncomfortable. 

You weren’t ignorant to the fact either. The only firm indication you had that he was somewhat older than you was the scruff that adorned his chin and the beginnings of wrinkles that formed when he smiled. 

“I’m so sorry about her.” His voice was as thick and smooth as honey, the sound sweet to your ears. “We were outside together and she wandered off… and I didn’t even realise until a moment ago, and now you probably think I’m a horrible parent.” 

His lips curved into a smile, freckled cheeks pressing into his eyes. 

“No! No…not at all.” You shook your head. “She didn’t stray too far anyway, I live a few houses down.” You pointed with your thumb before holding your clammy hands in front of your body. 

Your voice only made you prettier, a powdery pink haze filling his mind. 

It really was the best Father’s day ever. 

“She didn’t cause too much trouble did she?” His voice was slightly panicked, his fingers combing through his hair. 

“There was no trouble, she’s honestly the sweetest kid I’ve ever met.” You beamed. “I found her in my front garden, she thought my flowers would make a good gift for you.” 

Peeking behind his shoulder you checked to see if Daisy had come back. There was no sign of her as you looked back at the tall man in front of you. 

“She felt terrible she didn’t have a present for you, so there was no way I could say no to her.” 

He shook his head, a smile forming on his lips. As much as he didn’t love the thought of Daisy hanging around strangers, he was happy that she was at least sweet about it. 

“That… uh, that was very kind of you. Thank you for being so sweet to her.” He spoke, placing a hand in his back pocket. “Is there any way I can repay you?” 

You held your hands up, disagreeing immediately as you reached to grab a hold of the beaded necklace. 

“She already took care of it.” You could tell by his expression he was slapping himself internally. “Think I might’ve ripped her off though.” 

Steve couldn't remember the last time someone made him genuinely smile this much. He felt a bit stupid considering the fact he had been smiling from the moment he laid eyes on you, but he could and would blame that on you and the fact that you were wearing the necklace his daughter loved most. 

“I’m happy to hear that.” He shrugged. “I was worried her cuteness might’ve looped you in. Happens to me more than I’m willing to admit.” 

“Almost.” You tilted your head. “Her sob story nearly got me, but I toughed it out.”

He took his hand from his back pocket, once again wiping it on his jeans before holding it out to you. As you took his hand it was apparent his hand was much larger than yours, his hand feeling much firmer than your own. 

“I’m Steve.” He told you, shaking your hand gently. 

“Y/n.” You replied, letting his hand go after a moment. 

“Y/n.” He repeated your name. “Pleasure to meet you, thank you again for taking care of her.” 

As the words left his mouth he realised that was exactly what you did. You took care of her and looked after her, even making sure to walk her the short distance home. His chest was consumed with an unfamiliar feeling, like something was twisting and pulling at his heart. 

“It was nice to meet you too, Steve.” You backed away slowly. “I’ll see you around I’m sure.” 

“Yeah.. yeah I hope so.” He commented. “Welcome to Hawkins.” 

You walked away wearing a saccharine smile, trying to not let him catch sight of your face as you turned off his driveway. 

Steve knew for a fact you weren’t just new to the neighbourhood, he would have definitely remembered your face if he had ever seen you in town. 

Turns out, you’d be running into Steve more often than you thought. 

The first few times were when you both were crossing paths. He was leaving as you got home, or you were both heading out at the same time. 

This cycle of small talk and running into each other continued for a few weeks, neither of you daring to push the conversations much further. 

That was until one early morning around 5am. You were sitting on your front steps, a blanket wrapped around your body, a steaming cup of coffee keeping your hands warm. You were tossing and turning all night, finally giving up and deciding to start your day early. 

The sky was halfway painted with a pastel orange colour, the clouds and run rising with it. The air outside carried that crisp freshness that only the morning could bring. The grass had been tricked with dew overnight, the droplets of water beginning to clear up. 

The silence was enjoyable, the sounds of birds chirping made you feel less alone, their presence being welcomed by you. You didn’t expect anyone to be awake this early, mainly because you would never willingly wake up this early. 

Your silence was interrupted by the sounds of feet hitting against the ground. Your eyes searched for the source of the sound, not finding it right away. Turning your head a little further to the left, you were met with the sight of Steve. 

His face was flushed, a light shade of crimson sitting on top of his cheeks. He was wearing nothing but a pair of running shorts, his grey shirt hanging from his arm. Your eyes dragged down to the patch of thick hair that rested on his chest, the view of it making you pull on the skin at the back of your neck. 

Everything he did, every move he made, every piece of him you got to know more was only making him more attractive. You couldn’t fathom how you happened to move in two houses down from a man who invented the concept of dads being hot. 

You considered running into the house before he saw you, painfully aware of how you looked this early in the morning. Your hair was a bit of a mess, eyes dressed with bags, and you knew for a fact your face was still swollen with sleep. 

There was no time left to put that plan in action as he looked over at you, pushing the headphones off his head. 

“You really shouldn’t be out here all alone at this time.” His husky voice spoke as he stopped at the bottom of your stairs. 

“I could say the same about you.” You replied, clearing your throat to try and make your voice sound better. 

It was then, from the close proximity you noticed the deep spots under his eyes. He had the look of someone who was stressed out beyond belief, a certain rigidity to his whole body. 

“I’m clearing my head.” He yawned, leaning onto the wood. “What’s your excuse?” 

“Couldn’t sleep.” You told him honestly, catching his yawn after you spoke the last word. “Is something going on?” 

It might have been weird to ask him that, but you hoped he wouldn’t be taken aback by the question. 

“Ah.” He let out a deep sigh, licking his lips. “I’m gonna have to call off work for the second time this week, which you can imagine I’m not thrilled about.” 

Steve had mentioned in passing he was a paramedic. The job normally would have come with unforgiving hours, being called in at any time of the day or night. However, in a town this small, that wasn’t the case. He explained that he rarely got called in, telling you how happy he was to have a job he loved so much with hours that worked well for him. 

“Are you not feeling well?” You sounded concerned, raising your brows with worry. 

“No no, I’m okay.” He reassured you. “Daisy really hated daycare when we tried it. So usually I get one of her aunts or uncles to take her or come over and watch her, but…” Running a hand over his face he continued. “Everyone’s been so busy lately which puts me in a bit of a bind.” 

“Your wife works when you do?” Your question was genuine for the most part, an ulterior motive may have been present. Steve’s eyes widened before he smiled slowly. 

“It’s just Daisy and I.” He spoke. “Her mom’s not in the picture anymore.” 

“I’m sorry.” You shook your head, feeling embarrassed but relieved at the same time. “I had no idea.” 

“That’s okay.” He chuckled, kicking your stair with the tip of his shoe softly. “I’m sorry for dropping this all on you, I’m sure it’s the last thing you wanna hear this early.” 

The idea swirled around your head before it left your mouth. 

“I could help…if-if you wanted, that is.” Your suggestion did make his ears perk up, mouth falling slightly open. “I’m always home anyway, don’t really have a lot going on.” 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, Y/n.” There was a tenderness to his voice, one you had never had the pleasure of hearing before. 

“You didn’t ask me.” You quipped. “I offered, Steve.” 

You could tell he liked the idea, he was just contemplating whether to admit it or not. It would make his life a lot easier, and you had proven that he could trust you with his child. 

“Are you gonna let me pay you?” He asked. “Because if you try and do it for free I might just lose what’s left of my mind completely.” 

Babysitting Daisy was a breeze. 

She seemed to like you a lot which made the time you spent with her a lot easier. The two of you got up to everything from playing outside to sitting on her bedroom floor while she showed you her books for what felt like the tenth time. 

At first, Steve only called you when he exhausted all other options, not wanting to burden you constantly. 

That quickly turned into you watching her each time he worked.

Daisy had expressed to him how much she enjoyed being around you one night when Eddie showed up to watch her instead of you. 

Eddie was incredibly offended by his niece's words, not understanding why her and Steve both seemed more keen about you coming over. That was until he had the pleasure of meeting you as he came to pick Daisy up from your house one evening. 

You opened the door a few seconds after someone had knocked on it. On the other side of the door was a man who looked extremely rough around the edges, his face and clothes covered in oil. 

“Eddie, right?” You asked him, voice a little hesitant. You wanted to make sure you weren’t handing Steve’s daughter to a complete stranger and by the looks of the man in front of you, you weren’t entirely sure this was the right guy. 

“I must have the wrong house.” He froze. You were way too pretty to be Steve’s babysitter, at least much prettier than he was anticipating. Even if you were actually the babysitter, he had no idea how Steve managed to get out more than one word to you. “You’re Y/n?” 

“In the flesh.” You tried to hide your confusion at his reaction. Daisy came to save the day, running into Eddie’s legs hard enough for him to let out a groan. 

“Uncle Eddie!” She screamed, hugging one of his legs. “Are you here to get me?” 

Her little mind was going a mile a minute, not even saying goodbye to you as she walked down the front stairs. She was young so you understood how her mind sometimes flew from one place to the other with no regard. 

“Thanks.” He nodded in your direction. The longer he thought about it, the more he understood why Steve was such a fan of you. Eddie imagined if he had such a pretty babysitter he’d want her around all the time too.

As you closed the door you could hear the pair bickering. Eddie let out a laugh, telling Daisy to stop pretending like she was happy to see him. 

You hoped not all of Steve’s friends were as strange as Eddie. 

Slowly, you began watching Daisy at Steve’s house more often. It was easier for you to be there so she didn’t have to bring a bag and all her toys with her. 

You had begun to pick up on housework while you were there. Doing the dishes, keeping everything tidy, and making dinner every night you were there, leaving more than enough in the fridge for Steve when he retired home. You usually only washed Daisy’s laundry, but on occasion you found yourself washing the dirty laundry that he was too busy to get around to. 

He was paying you way too much for you to just sit around and watch her anyway, so you insisted this was how you made things even. 

Steve would make a fuss about it sometimes, but he would be lying if he said he had a problem with it. It was nice to not have to worry about certain things after long days or nights at work.

He liked having you around, probably more than he should have. 

There was a tension growing between you and Steve, one that could only be ignored for so long. It was the kind of tension that was created when two people were obviously and painfully attracted to one another. 

It started with Steve having to watch you move around his kitchen, knowing where everything was placed, knowing exactly how he liked it. It progressed with the pride you felt each time he commented on how well you did something, your body burning with a sensation that only Steve could bring to you. 

Many stolen moments shared between the two of you continued to make the tension thicker. 

The short dresses you wore around him made it hard for him to breathe, his eyes not being able to leave your figure no matter how hard he tried. When you bent over to grab something the dress would rise up the backs of your thighs, exposing your body to him more than he thought he deserved. 

Reluctantly, he’d drag his gaze away before you turned back around, focusing on calming himself down and getting rid of the twitch in his cock. Part of him hoped you did it on purpose, that these moments weren’t a series of accidents that he happened to bear witness to. 

Steve didn’t make it easy for you either. 

He would always place a hand on your hip as he squeezed behind you, his front brushing against your ass as he moved. His hot whisper of ‘sorry, honey.’ played through your mind for hours each time he said it. 

You never missed the way he stared at you when you arrived at his house. His eyes examining you for a moment too long, making their way back up to yours where he would smile at you softly. 

You weren’t much better, the sight of him in his clothes for work had you in a tight grip, making it impossible to look anywhere but at his arms in that shirt that was a size too small. 

These moments were why you were shocked and hurt in a strange way when Steve called you one afternoon, asking you if you could come watch Daisy. 

“I thought tonight was your night off?” You frowned a bit, hating that he kept getting called into work last minute. 

“It is.” He felt a lump in his throat, the hand that wasn’t holding the receiver was on his hip. “I uh…I have a date tonight.” 

You never thought that four short words could leave you feeling so many things at one time. There was a pain biting at your heart, its teeth sinking into your skin hard enough to make your entire chest throb. 

The root of the pain was unidentifiable. There was jealousy and betrayal present, playing their roles together to leave you feeling like a fool for thinking that a man like Steve would ever want anything to do with you. 

You were his babysitter, nothing more. 

“Oh.” You sounded surprised. Steve could picture the ways your lips were curling in, a hand coming up to smooth your shirt down to cover up the fact that something was bothering you. 

Steve was only doing this as a poor attempt to resolve whatever feelings he was having for you. He thought there was a chance seeing someone else could work out and he would maybe be able to stop thinking about waking up next to you on slow mornings and kissing you each time he walked through his front door. 

Through this all, he found himself refraining from thinking about how things could have been between the two of you if this one small detail had been different. He knew there was no good in dwelling in what could have been, but he wondered if these thoughts ever crossed your mind. 

“Yeah, yeah I can come watch her.” You cleared your throat. “What time did you want me over?” 

He had never heard you like this. Choked up. Like there was something wrapping around your vocal chords, not allowing you to say what you really wanted to. 

“How’s seven?” He asked, the thought of cancelling the date bouncing around his head. 

“Whatever you need.” You tried to sound happier, but you failed miserably. Your remark came off caustic, leaving Steve with a sour taste in his mouth the rest of the day. 

You wanted to cancel on him last minute, ruining any prospects of his date going well. However, you didn’t have it in you to do something cruel to Steve when he was the last person in the world who deserved it. 

So, you went to watch Daisy at seven. 

Steve told you he would be home by ten and he didn’t lie. Right at ten he unlocked the door, seeing you sitting on his couch watching some random movie. 

He was relieved to see you, a faint feeling of happiness lingering within him as he stepped into his house. His date was nothing short of horrible and he had spent the majority of the time counting down the minutes until he could return home again. 

“Hey.” He whispered. “Is she asleep?” 

“Of course.” You hummed, standing up and gathering your things. You didn’t want to have to be around him for longer than you needed to. Pushing your feelings down was only going to work for so long, and looking Steve in the eye would have been what made them come right back up. 

“Thank you, I know it was short notice.” He walked closer to you, sensing this new kind of tension, one that he wasn’t so fond of. Steve grabbed his wallet, reaching for what he owed you plus a little bit extra. 

“It’s not a big deal.” You smiled softly, grabbing the money from him and putting your shoes on. “I’ll talk to you soon.” 

And with that you left. There was no goodbye, no asking him about his time out, and for the first time since he met you he didn’t get to hear your laugh as he made some stupid joke.

With that, he couldn’t help but notice the dishes weren't done and Daisy’s toys still scattered around the floor, left for him to clean up. It wasn’t like you had to do those things, but you always did. The fact that you didn’t do them should have had Steve running out the door after you, begging you to tell him what was wrong. 

But he didn’t. He stood there alone in his living room, frozen in place. 

For the first time in months, Steve’s warm and lively home went back to feeling like a cold and lonely house. 

Steve going on dates became a regular thing. At least once a week he was taking out some woman who he barely had any interest in, hoping he might like her more than the last. He felt like he was fresh out of highschool again, looking for someone to mend the hole in his heart that Nancy Wheeler had left behind. 

Only this time, he wasn’t trying to fill the hole someone else put there, he was trying to heal the wound in his heart that came from the knife he twisted. The job to fix it this time wasn’t easy, not when the women he was seeing were all dull and boring, not being able to make him feel a fraction of the way you did. Steve felt old again, like the single dad that couldn’t land more than a shitty one night stand. 

Part of you felt bad that all of his dates were going terribly.

He never went into the details much with you but you could tell by the way he looked that he was happy to return home after each one. He looked more drained than he did before he left, a deep sigh leaving his lips as he hung his jacket up. 

Steve was always home before 10pm, walking in either a few minutes before or right as the clock struck the hour, he was never a minute late. You were caught between thinking he did that to leave the dates earlier and to keep his word true, not wanting to make you feel like your time was something he would throw away.

Slowly, you grew to tolerate him going on dates. Swallowing down the poison that threatened to spill out of your mouth and stopping the tears that sometimes burned the back of your eyes. 

You both noticed that everything shifted back to how it was before that first date. From the extra work you did for him to the stolen intimate moments the two of you shared like a secret, whispering in the late hours of the night under the covers of a bed.  

That was until one gloomy Friday night. You made the short walk to Steve’s house, pulling the baby blue cardigan you wore over your body further, the wind being extremely unforgiving.​​ The white dress you wore was bright looking compared to the dark conditions outside. The clouds were a mean shade of grey, preparing to let out their anger in the form of cold droplets and cracks of thunder. 

You rarely knocked on the door anymore, letting yourself in with a faint greeting to anyone who may have been close by. As you walked onto the carpet at his front door you weren’t met with the usual sounds of Steve and Daisy singing, or the television being a little too loud as she sat in front of it, barely watching it as she played with her bead kit. 

Daisy was sobbing her little eyes out, whole body shaking in Steve’s arms. You were immediately panicked, heart dropping to the floor as you tried to understand what was happening. She didn’t cry often at all, in fact this was only the second time you had ever seen it happen. 

“Sweetie.” Steve sighed defeatedly, his white button up covered in her tears. “The sky is only a little dark, I’m sure it’s only gonna be a little rain, I promise.”

“Don’t go.” Her voice wobbled with fear, small hands clinging to the collar of his shirt. “Daddy I-I don’t want you to go.” 

You knew that might have just done him in completely. Daisy had that man wrapped around her tiny little finger, knowing exactly what she needed to say to get Steve to give in. She never did it in a bad way, only ever using her power to guilt trip him when absolutely necessary. 

Steve lifted her up, rubbing her back in soft circles as he turned around to see you. He gave you a sad look, mouthing ‘I’m sorry’. You only shook your head, coming closer to him and craning your neck to look at her tearful face. 

“Sweet Daisy.” You frowned, wiping one of her tears. “What’s going on?” 

“T-there’s gonna be a storm.” She breathed. “I don’t like thunder…I need Dad to stay and protect me.” You nod your head, thinking for a second. 

“I see.” You hummed. “That’s a real shame…because I had a really important secret to tell you once he left…” You sighed dramatically. “But I guess if I can’t protect you from the thunder…” 

“No!” She gasped, leaning off of Steve’s chest. “You promise you’ll save me from the thunder?” Her eyes were wide with excitement, the idea of getting to know a secret taking over whatever bad thoughts she was having. 

“I promise!” You held your hands up, “Wouldn’t let anything hurt you.” She squirmed in Steve’s arms, shouting something about changing into her pyjamas so she could be comfortable while you told her the secret.

He let out a painful noise as she ran up the stairs to her room. 

“I should stay here.” He shook his head. “If it actually starts to storm I’m going to feel like the worst.” 

“Steve.” You smiled sadly. “You’re far from the worst and she’s really lucky.” You whispered, noticing how handsome he looked right now. His hair was pushed back, one single strand of hair not getting enough gel, hanging in front of his face. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, releasing his pink lips from the tight line they were in. 

“I’ve got her if anything happens okay?” You hum. “She’s gonna be just fine with me here.” 

Steve was looking at you with nothing but adoration. His friends who he considered family all loved Daisy and cared for her greatly. But he was yet to find someone outside that circle, someone whom he wanted in a different way who cared for his daughter as much as you did. 

The way he was looking at you was making the lock that kept your feelings away come undone, letting them trickle out of their hiding place slowly. 

“Okay.” His voice was soft. “I trust you.” 

“Good.” You bit back a smile. “Because your collar looks absolutely horrendous.” Without thinking you reached up for it, smoothing the stiff fabric down. 

“Are you nervous?” You were trying to calm him down from what just happened, really not caring to know much about how he was feeling about a date that was with someone who wasn’t you. 

“Not really.” He watched as you fixed his shirt for him, your eyes focused on what you were doing. He noticed the way your nose twitched when you were focused, scrunching up when you were really trying to get something right. “I haven’t seen her since highschool, so it should be interesting.” 

You tried to avoid thinking about the fact that this person might not have been a total stranger to Steve, making the chances of this being a good date slightly more probable. 

Reaching behind his neck you smoothed the fold of his collar down. He didn’t know what to do with his hands as you worked at making him look presentable. Did he hold them in front of his body? Did he put them behind his back? Did he rest them on your hips like he so badly desired to? 

“Oh my, since highschool?” You breathed. “That was what? Forty years ago?” 

Your eyes flicked away from his shirt to look at him. He was still looking at you, nodding his head as he chuckled. 

“Forty years!” He laughed, making you let out the giggle you had been holding in. “I see how it is!” 

You lost track of what you were supposed to be doing, your hands resting flat on his shoulders as you both shared a playful string of banter through fits of laughter. Steve had more fun in those three minutes than he had on the hours he had spent out on dates combined. 

Your touch, your smile, your laugh, they filled his body with so much joy that for a second he forgot that you weren’t the woman he’d be seeing tonight. 

Once the sounds of laughter died down you removed your hands from his body, backing away a bit as you gestured to his shirt. 

“You’re all ready to go.” You told him, looking towards the stairs as you heard Daisy trampling down them as fast as she could. “And I think she’s ready for you to leave.” 

Your suspicions were proved correct when Daisy began basically shoving Steve out the door, saying goodbye to him as fast as she could. His exit was a rushed mess of him trying to bargain with her for a hug, but not being surprised when she barely gave in.

Next came the part of the routine that never changed. 

“I’ll be back before ten!” He shouted as he closed the door. 

11:47pm. 

You had been staring at the clock that hung in the middle of Steve’s living room for so long that you could barely read it anymore. 

You checked it once, then twice, then finally you ran to the kitchen to check the clock there, not believing what you were seeing. 

11:49pm. 

“What the…” You whispered under your breath, a hand making its way to your head. 

Steve was never late, nevermind nearly two hours late. Your mind ran rampant with terrible thoughts, anxiety serging through your veins as each new idea formed. You tried your hardest to not let yourself think that something bad had happened to him despite how badly you wanted to believe it. 

Daisy had fallen asleep a half hour ago, but not after she asked you a plethora of questions about where Steve was. It felt impossible to try and calm her nerves when your own were burning at the ends, the sparks catching on each dendrite, setting everything on fire from synapse to synapse. 

The worry you felt was intense, making your jaw tense, your teeth grinding together. Your nails dug into your palms, the dread trying to claw its way up your throat and take you under completely. 

As you searched through the notepad that was hung on the fridge for Robin’s phone number, the phone that sat on the end table by Steve’s couch began to ring. The buzzing of the phone scared the life out of you, putting you even further on edge. 

Your shaky hands grasped the receiver, bringing it to your ear. 

“Hello?” You tried to sound a bit more lively than you felt, not wanting the person on the other end to know something was wrong. 

“Shit, Yn.” He uttered. “I didn’t even realise the time, I’m so sorry.” 

Your heart felt heavy, like a large rock that had been thrown into a body of water. You were relieved to hear his voice, to know that regardless of what happened he sounded like he was okay.

“Steve.” Your voice trembled, your fingers squeezed the coiled wire of the phone. Before you could ask a question, he was speaking again, obviously being rushed for a reason that was unknown to you. 

“I called Robin, and she’s gonna come and pick up Daisy.” He spoke. 

“What? Why?” Your confusion was like a thick fog, covering everything around you and making it hard to see. 

“It’s late and I feel bad for not calling.” His speech sounded distracted, as if he was trying to listen to the chatter behind him as he spoke. “I don’t want you to be waiting around for me.” 

You didn’t know what to say, so you said nothing, waiting for his voice to fill the silence again. 

“Steve! Let’s go!” You heard the voice of a woman from his end, all high-pitched and filled with giggles. 

You felt sick to your stomach. 

You thought that something bad had happened to him. You were genuinely worried that the reason he wasn’t home and hadn’t called was because some unfortunate event took place. Not once did you consider the notion that Steve might have just been having fun and for once enjoying himself on a date. 

You felt so stupid for believing any of the lies you were feeding yourself. You got worked up over nothing, your worry turning into a burning feeling of betrayal. 

“I’ve gotta go, okay?” His voice was a little louder now. “I’ll come by tomorrow to pay you.” 

The line went dead. 

Steve was never this short with you, nevermind not doing as little as saying goodbye to you. 

It hit you slowly, putting together the pieces that told you exactly why Robin was picking up Daisy and why Steve insisted you head home. 

He probably wasn’t going to be returning home alone. 

The house felt dark, the ghosts standing in the room with you were the only things keeping you company. Everything was too quiet in contrast to the beating of your heart, throbbing against your chest like it never had. 

Robin showed up not long after, helping you peel Daisy from her bed. Luckily her sleep was enough to stop her from asking too many questions, her little eyes barely being able to stay open as Robin carried her downstairs. 

You had met Robin on a few different occasions, and given the way she was looking at you, she knew something you didn’t. 

Truly, she was sick of listening to Steve talk about you and do nothing about it. So, to see you in his house looking like a sad puppy made her want to kick him right in the ribs. 

After she had left you felt even lonelier than before, the absence of Daisy allowing you to experience your emotions even heavier. You decided to quickly clean up before you left, thinking that this might be the last time you babysit for Steve for quite some time. 

This tug of war with your heart was getting hard again, slowly becoming unbearable. For the first time in the months you knew him, the flirting and moments you shared didn’t seem intimate at all, they seemed like a really good way for him to string you along and win himself more favours. 

You refused to cry about something like this, not here, not in the four walls of his house. 

The sound of the water running as you washed dishes almost covered up the sound of the front door opening. Your ears perked up, listening to hear if he was alone or not, getting ready to awkwardly excuse yourself. You didn’t expect him to be home within an hour, not by the way he was talking over the phone. 

You didn’t hear any voices, no noises that would have signified someone was with him. There was only the sounds of him kicking his shoes off, feet padding to where you were. You kept your back turned to him, focusing on finishing up with the four items you had left to wash. 

“Honey…” His voice was thick with regret. He didn’t think you would have bothered to stay a moment longer than you needed to. 

But of course you did. 

You didn’t respond, not even acknowledging his existence. Your silence was deafening as well, causing a ringing in his ears the longer he listened to the sounds of water hitting the bottom of the sink. 

“Y/n.” His voice grew closer, his feet taking a soft step in your direction. 

You placed a plate in the dish rack, reaching and grabbing a dirty glass. 

Steve felt a lump growing in his throat, a lump made up of worry and fear, similar to the one that lived in your throat as you waited for him to come home. He would understand if you were mad at him for not calling, maybe you had plans after being here tonight and he ruined them, or maybe you just wanted to go home and- 

“Do you have any idea how worried I was?” You seethed, wiping the outside of the glass, not turning to look at Steve. 

His face grew softer, the wrinkles on his forehead smoothing out. 

“You’re never late and that would have been fine if you just called sooner.” He could see how tense you were, shoulders moving ridgeley with every syllable. 

Oh. 

“I thought something happened.” Your voice cracked. “I thought you got into an accident or got hurt.” The cloth slid into the glass, your hand cleaning the inside of it. “Do you know how fucking scary that was?” 

Oh. 

You weren’t mad at him, not in the way that he was anticipating. You were worried about him, the kind of worry that made you anxious and restless. He had to fight every urge to come and grab your face, to kiss you so softly that you forgot why you were worrying, being blissfully reminded that he was standing right in front of you. 

“God, Steve.” Your eyes close, head tilting back slightly. “I was so relieved to hear your voice for a second.” You looked at him, hurt etched into your usually glowing irises. “But then you made me feel like an idiot for worrying in the first place.” 

“Hey now.” He stepped toward you, reaching a hand out to hold your shoulder. 

“Don’t!” You barked, going to step away from him. Encapsulated in your sadness, you forgot about the glass around your hand, slamming it against the sink. 

The glass shattered, the debris flying all around the sink. The sound of it was loud, louder than the frustration that was booming in your head, pulling you back down to earth. A gasp fell from your lips as you felt something tearing at the skin of your palm. 

You pulled your hand back from the sink, your other grabbing your wrist and holding it tightly. 

“Jesus, Y/n!” Steve bellowed, grabbing the kitchen towel from by the stove. He reached for your hand again, unhappy to see you pull away from him. 

“It was an accident!” You trembled, the blood dripping from your hand onto the wood floor beneath your feet. You hated how upset he sounded, your face burning with embarrassment over what you just did. 

“I’m sorry.” His voice was soft spoken, his warm hand finding safety on your forearm. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice, but you’re hurt and you need to let me help you.” 

His hazel eyes searched yours for forgiveness, not only for yelling, but for everything that had gone wrong tonight.

“Okay.” You put your guard back down, letting him in again. He took your injured hand and wrapped the towel around it, placing your other hand back on top to hold it there. 

Steve guided you upstairs and into the bathroom, rinsing your hand off as gently as he possibly could. He stood behind you, his chest pressed against your back as he made you keep your hand under the water. 

The close proximity made it hard to breathe. The smell of his cologne filled your nose, notes of cedarwood and bergamot dancing around you. The scent was one that over time you began to associate with him, goosebumps growing along your skin with each whiff of it you got. 

What nearly pushed you over the edge was the way he was whispering words of encouragement to you as he poured alcohol onto your wound. 

“Just a little longer, okay? You’re being real strong.” “Breath for me, you’re okay.” “I’ve got you, honey, I’m right here.” 

The winces you were letting out weren’t all from the pain of your cut, but rather the sting that each thing he said was leaving behind.

Once he got the bleeding to stop enough, he took you into his bedroom. You had been in his room only a handful of times, coming in to grab his laundry without taking time to really look around. 

It was exactly what you expected his room to look like. The walls were all a plain cream colour, nothing on them. The floors were carpeted unlike the hallway, the brown material feeling nice on your feet. All of the furniture in the room was wooden from his bed frame to the thick walnut desk in the corner. The desk and the shelf next to it were covered in framed pictures. Most of them were of him and Daisy but the other few were of his friends whom he considered family. 

“Sit up here.” He tapped the desk lighty. You manoeuvred your way onto it the best you could without putting much force onto your palm. Steve opened a few different drawers, grabbing the various supplies he needed to help you. 

“My job comes in handy a lot more than you’d think.” He set everything down next to you, turning the lamp on the desk on. A yellow glow illuminated his face, extenuating his features in a way that made him somehow look better than he did before. 

“I can imagine.” Your voice was softer than before. You felt yourself retreating, opening the curtains again for him. He slipped himself between your legs, fixing the end of your dress so it was covering your knees. 

Steve was doing everything he could to make you feel comfortable, like he always did. You were hurt by his actions, but felt like a child for how you handled the situation. A swift feeling of regret filled you, making your gaze shift to his face. 

“Gonna bring your hand up, yeah?” He waited for some sign of you agreeing before lifting your hand closer to his face. “I can see a few pieces of glass in there, so I’m gonna take them out and then we can wrap it up for you.” 

“Okay.” You were trying to keep calm as he grabbed a pair of tweezers. His eyelashes fluttered as he plucked out a small shard of glass, dropping it into the small bowl of water he placed beside you. 

Steve looked so focused, barely breathing each time he brought the tweezers to your hand. The feeling was bearable at first, but the stinging quickly became a lot to handle. You let out a sharp squeak as he had to push the tweezers a bit deeper. 

“I’m sorry.” He glanced up at you, staring at you as he let you settle from the pain. “You should try and distract yourself, it’ll hurt a lot less.”

“How should I go about doing that?” You asked. 

“Talk to me.” He offered plainly, raising his eyebrows for a second. 

You knew he wanted to discuss the events of the night, so you decided to dip your foot into those waters hoping they weren’t going to be as cold as you anticipated. 

“I take you had a good time tonight.” The comment was seemingly genuine, but there was something bitter about the way it rolled off your tongue. 

Steve avoided eye contact after you said it, not replying as he sucked in a deep breath. 

“No, I really didn’t.” He spoke finally. “I had a pretty terrible time.” 

To say you were confused was an understatement. Nothing about the way the evening played out implied that he had a bad time from returning late to the laughter of the woman who was rushing him off the phone. 

You tilted your head quizzically, watching every small twitch on his face. 

“What happened?” You blurted out, wishing you had taken an extra second to think of something better to say. 

He continued picking the glass from your skin, glancing up at you for not even half a second. 

“We went to dinner, and it was fine.” He mumbled, shrugging his shoulders. “Then she suggested going to this bar.” His voice trailed off as he shook his head slightly. “And we ran into a few people…Eddie and Dustin and a few other people from highschool.” 

There’s a hint of pent up frustration in his voice, a tone so deep that its thickness was built up by an ongoing feeling of resentment. 

“She got really drunk.” His nostrils flared. “And by that point the date was more than over. She found someone else to entertain her. When I called you I was about to drop her off at home, which was probably the best part of the whole date.” 

He wasn’t rushed on the phone so he could run off with his date. He was rushed because he was uncomfortable, wanting nothing more than to leave and be home. 

Steve was a lot of things, but most of all he was a really good person. Of course he wasn’t going to leave her drunk at a bar, he was going to be the one to take her home and make sure she got in safe. Even if she made his night horrible, he wasn’t the type of man to storm off and leave her to fend for herself. 

“I’m so sorry.” Your words dripped with guilt. Steve wouldn’t meet your stare, keeping his eyes directed on your hand. 

“Don't be sorry…the dates are always the same.” He muttered. “I show up and they talk about themselves the whole time.” A sigh falls from his lips. “They have no interest in me or at least it dies off pretty quickly after they find out I have a kid.” 

After his fourth date with a different woman, you began to wonder why he never made it to a second date with any of them.

“But I guess I'm no better.” He pushed his glasses off his face, letting them sit on his head where they look like they’re about to fall off. You felt the burn of the alcohol seeping into your cut, the sensation making you bite back a wince.

“What makes you say that?” You reached with your free hand, taking his glasses off his scalp, placing them on the top of the shelf next to you. 

“Because the whole time they’re talking I’m thinking about someone else.” His gaze flicked up to yours, eyes locking like magnets. 

You felt paralyzed, not one part of your body daring to move in a way that might be even a little bit noticeable. Trying to process what you heard, you remained speechless. You thought you were out of the woods for a brief moment, the guilt you felt being accompanied by selfish relief. 

“Someone else?” You blinked rapidly. 

Steve couldn’t help but to be amused at your innocence regarding the subject. His lips were being tugged at the edges as he fought off the smile he so badly wanted to show you. 

“Someone else.” He confided. “Someone who listens to me, and cares about what I have to say. Someone who cares about my daughter almost as much as I do.” 

Your heart was working incredibly fast, beating in large thrums as it pumped your blood through your veins. The blood rushed through your body, making a pulse appear in every place where one could form. 

Steve cut and measured a bandage, the metal scissors making a clicking noise as they hit the desk. As he wrapped it around your hand, he kept talking. 

“I can’t stop thinking about her.” He released, securing the bandage by placing it around your hand a few times. “

“I can’t get the smell of her vanilla perfume out of my head and I really can’t stop wondering if that lipgloss she loves so much is anywhere as sweet as she is.” His voice was as soft as the silk of your pillowcase, keeping your face and hair safe as you slept. 

Your heart was beating so fast you were sure he could hear it, the sound filling his ears the same way it filled yours. 

He was talking about you. He was talking about the vanilla perfume you sprayed on each morning you left your house, making sure to put it in places it would stick. He was referring to the lip gloss that sat on your lips as he spoke, the strawberry flavour filling your mouth more than it ever had. 

“And sometimes I think about those nights when I come home and find her asleep on my couch…” Steve places your hand down in your lap, never letting go of it. 

“I never wanna wake her up.” His fingers reach out, pushing a small piece of hair from your face. “I wanna put a blanket over her and let her sleep soundly… or carry her up to my bed and let her sleep comfortably next to me.” 

Steve looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever set his sights on. Your beauty was intoxicating, making it hard to concentrate on anything but the way your smile was visible on your entire face. 

Steve thought he would have noticed the day that his innocent fondness for you grew into something more, but he didn’t. 

Maybe he would have if he was paying more attention, but he was too busy loving every moment he got to spend with you. He was hypnotised by how much he liked you to realise how hard he was falling for you. He was too distracted by the constant voice in his head telling him this was wrong to notice that you felt the exact same way. 

Your stomach contracted, nerves forming there and balling together. The hairs on your body stood on end, the air in the room feeling ice cold. 

Though it was obvious who he was talking about, you played along with the idea that you had no clue. 

“Why don’t you take this someone else out?” You put forth, not moving your hand from where it rested in his. There were freckles on his cheeks, spreading down his neck like the stars in the sky, making you want to reach out and touch them. 

“I’m not sure she sees me like that.” He said honestly, looking from your lips back to your eyes. 

“You won’t know for sure until you say something to her.” You hum, the pain that lived in your hand faded into the background, along with the hurt you were feeling earlier. 

“It’s more than that.” He shook his head. “I’m worried she might find this whole thing inappropriate and think I’m a terrible person.” His face held a genuine concern, one that you had yet to see from him. He was afraid of disappointing you and making you think of him in a way that was all too familiar with his younger self. 

“I promise you.” You sat up further, a begging look on your face. “She could never think anything negative about you.” 

Steve wanted to accept what you were saying as the truth, but a small part of him was still ridden with some kind of worry. 

“I’m still not sure it’s the best idea.” He whispered, his large hand cupping your cheek like it was a snowflake, delicate and light, melting if he touched it too roughly. 

“Steve.” You begged, his heart aching so strongly he felt it in his back. You pushed into his touch, rubbing your cheek on the palm of his hand. 

Slowly, you moved further to the edge of the desk, pressing your thighs into the sides of his. Your dress rode up, the edge of it sitting in the middle of the doughy part of your leg. You felt him move closer, pressing himself into the wood. 

“Tell me this is okay.” He whispered, both hands holding the base of your jaw up to your cheeks. 

“I can’t stop thinking about you either…no matter how much I try.” You breath, your hands wrapped around both his wrists. 

The longer he stared at you, feeling your breath fanning his face, the softer his expression got and the closer he got to giving in. 

“Please.” You say so quietly he almost didn’t hear it. It was the final push he needed to allow himself to give in to the thing you both so badly wanted. 

Steve rested his forehead on yours for a second, resting there as he attempted to ground himself. You stayed there peacefully, soaking it up just in case it was the first and last time you were going to be this close to him. 

After what felt like a lifetime of waiting, he tilted your chin up, capturing your lips in a kiss so sweet that happiness threatened to spill from your eyes. 

Steve took his time with you, kissing you so slowly that it felt like your heart was going to give out on you. His lips moved against yours like they had been there before, knowing each curve of them and exactly what to do to make you feel like you were floating. 

Your lips were softer than he ever imagined, and your lip gloss was just as sweet as he was hoping it would be. Everything about you from the tickle of your breath to the smell of your hair was making a warm sensation blossom in Steve’s chest, taking over all of his senses. 

Every inch of you was lit up with an incandescent glow, a garden blooming in your stomach, its roots travelling to intertwine around your heart. Steve’s hands on your face, his lips on yours, they were lighting you up in a way you never experienced before. 

Your hands travelled down his arms, curving down his neck to rest upon his chest. Right there, a little adjacent to where his heart lived, you could feel it beating against his chest so hard it felt like it was trying to escape from his ribcage. 

“You okay?” You grinned against his lips, not being able to stop it no matter how hard you tried. The feeling of your hand resting on his chest made Steve dizzy, making him feel like he was a lovesick teenager again. 

“Barely hanging on here.” His smile was impossibly large, causing a giggle to fall from your lips. 

Hesitantly, he moved a hand, pressing it onto your chest, over your dress, and above your left breast, holding it there flat. Your eyes were inviting him in, a silent and unspoken way of telling him this was still okay. 

“Are you okay?” He whispered with a smile, feeling your heart beating against your chest. 

“Hanging on.” A whispered giggled was pushed from your diaphragm. “By a thread.” Your comment was meant to be a playful push back at what he said, only it was the truth. 

He rubbed the tip of his nose on yours, the back and forth motion sending a tickle straight through you. The action was filled with care, but within it there was the promise of something more, telling you this wasn’t where he planned on leaving things. 

“Have you thought about this before?” He asks. The question would have been innocent if it weren’t for the heat emitting off his body, making the knots of sexual tension between the two of you come undone. 

“Many times.” You admit, your fingers playing with the top button of his shirt. Steve leaned into your touch, his hands moving to rest on your covered thighs. 

“Is this how you imagined it?” Though his breath is hot against your face, the chill that creeps down your back is cold. 

“Sometimes yeah.” Your eyes meet him as you pull the button out of the fabric, fingers carefully moving to the next one. “Usually there’s a lot more kissing.” 

Steve laughs softly, planting a kiss on your cheek, then another, and one more after that. He leaves a chaste kiss on your lips, one that has you longing for more. 

Another button pops undone, dark brown chest hair peeking out at you. 

“Have you thought about this?” You ask him, leaving a sticky strawberry scented kiss on his freckled cheek. 

His fingertips glide down, coming in contact with the bare skin of your knee as they creep under the fabric of your dress. 

“Many times.” He whispers, his own body suffering from the pain that anticipation brings. 

“Is this how you pictured it?” Your voice is gentle as you take out the fourth button, leaving Steve’s chest exposed. 

“Normally I’d have you in my bed by now.” He smiles at the noise you let out, a mix of a hum and a whine. 

There’s a syrupy smile on your face, a kind of smile you wear when you finally get something you want and are able to hold it in your hands finally. 

His hands are up on the dough of your thighs now, thumbs rubbing soft back and forth motions there. The whole thing is intimate and sweet, confessions being spilled between two people who yearn for each other. 

As you undo the final button your hand pushes against this bare torso, encouraging him to step back. 

Of course he does, letting you know that you’re in control as much as he is. His blood runs cold for a second as you slide off the hard desk, careful to not put much pressure on your hand. 

His brain runs crazy with the idea that something is wrong, like the reality of the situation just settled into you and you’re about to go home and never speak to him again. 

Steve is too stunned to speak, body turning slowly as he watches you for the first time ever rest your body against his bed. The white of your dress stands out against the darker colours in his room. Your being there added a lightness to the room, a gentle beauty that he alone could never bring into the space. 

“Now I’m in your bed.” You mused. The way he was staring at you was making you nervous, palms growing clammy as you waited for him to make a move. 

He hides a smile as he nods, walking over to where you’re laying. You feel the bed dip beside you, one of Steve’s knees pressing into the mattress between your legs. He rests a forearm onto the pillow beside your head, his face inches from yours. 

“And now you’re in my bed.” He beamed, kissing you slowly. 

The kiss was a bit more rushed this time but still as gentle as it could possibly be. Your lips parted slightly, allowing him to slot his tongue into your mouth, earning a soft moan from you. 

You pushed the wrinkled fabric of his shirt off his shoulder, pleased as he tried to work it off his body without removing his mouth from yours. Once it was off you ran your hands along his naked shoulders, ending your movement at the back of his neck where you scratched his skin kindly. The sound that leaves his throat is a groan that he tried to swallow, the noise getting caught in his throat. 

His palm smoothes over the skin of your thigh, fingers bringing the light fabric of your dress up, exposing your panties to him. He doesn’t break away to look at your body, instead letting his fingertips explore the new land that was your skin. 

Steve’s fingers trace where the lace rests on your hip, making his way around to where it rests below your tummy. There’s butterflies growing everywhere he touches, fluttering their wings against you where the feeling of his fingertips linger. 

There’s an ache that starts in your stomach, extending down to where you need him most. 

Right when you think he’s about to give you the satisfaction of a small touch, his hand makes its way back around to your thigh, squeezing your skin. 

“I’m gonna take these off, baby.” It’s both a statement and a question as he hooks a finger under the band of your panties. 

“Okay.” You say, reeling at the sound of him calling you something so sweet. You lift your hips for him, making it easier for him to slide your panties down your legs. 

He rewards the action with a kiss to your knee, a silent ‘thank you’. 

You didn’t realise how wet you actually were until the sticky lace was pulled from your core, a string of slick falling onto the sheets below you. You would have been embarrassed in any other situation, an apology forming on your tongue but quickly fading as you hear a guttural moan from Steve. 

“God, you’re beautiful.” He spreads your thighs open, leaving you on full display for him. His thumb runs along the edge of your dripping cunt, his mouth ajar as he watches how easily you open up for him. 

“Steve.” You whine, his mostly unintentional teasing becoming unbearable. Your hips jerk up off the bed, searching for his touch. He firmly presses them back into the bed, his hand holding them down as he eases down to lay beside you. 

“I’m right here.” He hums, holding your thighs open. “I’ve got you.” 

Before you can take another breath you feel his fingers gathering some of your slick, dragging it through your folds up to the bundle of nerves at the top of your cunt. He rubs your clit slowly, circling it with just enough pressure. A sharp sound of pleasure falls from your parted lips, eyebrows knitting as you relax into this feeling. 

Steve’s face is above yours, his elbow propping him up over you slightly. He’s watching every move of your face, enjoying every small sound you’re making while he strokes your cunt. Your body is still slightly rigid, he can see how hard you’re trying to stay still. 

“Sweetheart.” He whispers, moving toward you so that his body is resting against your own. He lets himself rest on his forearm again, pressing it above your head. “Breathe for me.” 

You move as close as you can get to him, turning your body so you’re facing him, a leg resting over top of his. You let out a shaky breath, holding his face loosely with your hand. His fingers and moving down every so often, the tips of them dipping into you before pulling back up to your clit as if he was playing an instrument. 

He kisses you delicately, pink lips moving against yours with tender care. His middle finger slides into you with ease, your body accepting it greedily. You keep kissing him, small hums vibrating through your body as he works his finger in and out of you. When he slips in a second finger, you break the kiss, moaning right into his open mouth as he curls the digits deep inside you. 

“That feel good, honey?” He asks with a smile, lips ghosting over yours as he continues the exact same motion. 

“Uh huh” You mewl, letting your swollen lips brush on his. You can barely think with his fingers inside you, the feeling of them blurring your thoughts almost completely. 

“You wear such pretty dresses when you come over.” His voice is deeper than before as he looks from the material back up to your eyes. “Are they for me?” 

There’s a new confidence in his voice, comfort and trust settling in, allowing him to say everything he’s wanted to for months. 

His fingers physically can't get any deeper, so he brings his thumb up to brush against your clit. You’re giving him the sweetest sounds he has ever heard and he hopes he can remember them forever. 

“They’re for you.” You manage to say at the end of a deep breath. “Wanted…” A whine rips through you. “Wanted your attention.” 

“That’s real sweet, baby.” He presses a long kiss to your forehead. The kiss is filled with love rather than lust, your words making Steve burn with the urge to care for you. 

He moves his hand a little faster, the sticky sounds of your cunt hitting against his hand filling the bedroom. He’s still managing to curl his fingers inside of you, your nails scraping against the slope of his shoulder. 

“You always have my attention, hm?” He tells you truthfully, feeling you arch into his hand. You can’t reply, only gasping at the feeling blooming in your lower abdomen. 

“Think about you the whole time I’m out.” He murmurs. “Come home early just to see you again, I can never help myself.” 

Your head is leaning against his shoulder as you sob out an obscene noise, your eyes shut tight. You’re clenching around him hard, your walls closing with every word that leaves his mouth. 

“S-Steve.” You swallow, breath ragged as the feeling below grows stronger. “I want you…I want you inside me.” 

Your words make his cock harden in his pants, straining against the black material uncomfortably. He so badly wants to let you have him, but he knows better than to try and fuck you without making you cum atleast once. 

“Need you to cum for me.” You’re rolling your hips against his hand, searching for more friction. “You’re so fucking tight, honey. You won’t be able to take it if you don’t cum for me.” 

“Can take it, Steve.” You pull your face from his arm, a weepy look on your features. “Please let me have it.” 

You’re desperate for him and you’re desperate to cum, the combination making you relentless to get what you want.  

“You gonna be good for me?” He looks at you, eyes gente but stern as he speaks. “Be good for me, sweetheart, come on.” 

The thrusting of his fingers keeps up, giving extra attention to the skin over your clit. Your thighs are shaking slightly, the muscles getting tight as you try and focus on letting yourself go. Steve whispering something to you that you can’t make out over the ringing deep in your ear. He’s doing everything he can to help you get there, his lips kissing your cheek repeatedly. 

There’s a high pitched whimper of his name as you tip over the edge, unable to control any of the noises you make. Your body feels heavy then light again, toes curling and calves aching as a delightful feeling spreads through you. You know Steve is gonna have red marks on his shoulder from how hard your nails are digging into it. 

“That’s it.” He praises. “There’s my good girl.” You can feel him smiling on your skin, his voice dripping with pride. 

Slowly he moves his hand from your cunt, your face pulled together as you adjust to the uncomfortable emptiness. You close your thighs around his hand, trying to make the shock waves of pleasure slow down.  

“Steve?” You breath raggedly, suddenly aware of how hot you are, your dress feeling suffocating. He can sense that you’re uncomfortable, a few lines of worry forming on his forehead. 

“Yeah, honey?” He looks at you sweetly, noticing the thin layer of sweat on your forehead. 

“Can you take my dress off?” You request, leaning into him so that you can kiss his stubbly chin. 

“I can do that.” He says, pulling his hand from your wet thighs. “Think you can stand up for me?” 

Steve’s making his way across the bed and onto the floor beside it before you can answer, reaching out a hand for you. He looks incredibly handsome right now. His tan skin is glowing more than you had ever seen in the past, styled hair now a bit rustled up but you know he could care less right now. The thick patch of hair on his chest makes you throb with need again, your eyes unable to look away. 

He sees you staring, a breathy laugh leaving him as he watches you slowly getting off the bed with your eyes attached to him. 

“You’re really handsome.” You whisper as you settle in front of him with your back turned to his chest. It makes his cheeks glow a soft pink as he kisses your shoulder softly, happy that you can't see his face. 

“And you’re the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen.” He hums into the shell of your ear, thick fingers working to pull the zipper of your dress down. 

“I am?” You ask as he pushes the fabric down your shoulders, watching it cascade down your body. His hands are rubbing your back soothingly as the dress finally falls to the ground. He kisses your naked back a few times, a gesture that makes everything ache from your lungs to the space between your legs. 

“You are.” He confirms, his touch running down your sides before pulling your body into him. “Too beautiful for this world.” 

You feel something hard against your ass, pressing into you with need. You moan quietly, placing your hands over his as he moves them around your body. 

He urges your head to the side, tilting it so that your neck is on full display for him. 

“Too beautiful to let just anyone touch you, honey.” The first few kisses on your unclothed neck are innocent, starting by your ear and travelling to your shoulder.

To let anyone but me touch you. Is what he really meant, afraid to let the words fall out.

The kisses that follow are darker, his lips sucking on each spot of your neck they stop. He finds a spot he likes, biting at the skin there tenderly, his tongue running over the spot after each bite that is harder. 

“Feels like a dream to be this close to you, can’t believe it’s real..” Your mouth is open but there's no sound coming out, jaw slack at the bliss you feel. 

His hand runs over your tummy, greedily trying to get a feel for every inch of your body as he sucks and bites at your sensitive skin. The urge to touch him is overwhelming, it was completely tangible, yet it took everything to pull yourself out of the moment. 

“S-Sit down.” You request, secretly wishing he would never stop kissing you. “Please, Steve.” 

He reaches to hold your hand, not wanting to be away from your touch. Backing up slowly he sits on the edge of the bed, his eyes alight with elation as he pulls you closer to him. You couldn’t help but notice how much softer his eyes got whenever he looked at you, the golden hazel colour becoming a comforting light brown that felt like a warm drink on a cold day. 

“What’re you doing, baby?” He’s amused but curious, hands grabbing the backs of your thighs once you get close enough for him to do so.

You stand between his legs, bending down so you can kiss his toned shoulder. 

“Showing you this is real.” Your voice is angelic, light and golden as you whisper in his ear. 

You kiss along his tan shoulder, taking the time to kiss each freckle that adorns his skin. Your breath along his skin was amiable, heating him up both physically and mentally. The open mouth kisses you trail up and over his Adam's apple are wet and a little sticky from what barely remains of your lipgloss. 

His hand moves to the back of your neck, not to hold you there but to massage you and remind you that this was all okay. Somewhere along his neck your kissing turns into a gentle nipping, biting into his skin enough to make his pulse quicken. 

When you pull away you look at his skin, the beginnings of broken blood vessels present, but nothing that will leave much of a mark, unfortunately for you. 

“I don’t know how all of those women didn’t fall at your feet, Steve.” You run your fingers down the hair of his chest, your thumb running down to above his belly button. 

You duck your head down again, kissing the soft skin of his tummy. 

Steve groans like you’ve never heard. It starts out as a choked out word, transforming into an inaudible sound of disbelief. He sounds like he’s stuttering, trying to form a sentence but the pleasured noises from his diaphragm keep cutting him off. 

You look up at him with half-lidded eyes, the sight above you is so intense you have no choice but to kneel into the ground between his legs. 

His chest is heaving heavily, cheeks a burning red colour, beginning to look the way they did that morning when you saw him on his run. The way he’s looking at you is something you had never experienced. It’s hungry and sinful, but at the same time it’s gentle and beautiful, two things you were sure only lovers experienced together. 

Humming softly you close your eyes, continuing to leave feather-like kisses on his stomach.

Steve felt as if he was about to have a heart attack. He didn’t find himself in bed with people often, and when he did he was always left emotionally unsatisfied, even physically sometimes. 

But this was putting him into overdrive, all of his senses being overloaded at the same time to create a feeling that was burning him to his core. He feels energised but completely weak at the same time. He wants to give you everything right now, but for the first time since the fall of 1984, he’s okay with the idea of letting someone, you, love on him for a moment. 

“Steve.” You whisper, the sound causing his eyes to blink open again to look at you. Your hand is on the button of his pants, thumb rubbing over the small details on the front of it. “Can we take these off…” 

“Of course.” He sits back up from where he was leaning, cradling your chin in one hand. “Go ahead, my girl.” 

My girl. 

Your stomach twisted into a knot, heart beating in your ears so persistently that you were sure you must have misheard him. His words are so gentle, stare so intense, but instead you decide not to dwell on words that were most likely created by the heat of the moment. 

The button pops open, the zipper coming open slowly. You can’t pull them down anymore without help, looking at him with the beginnings of a pout on your lips. 

“Come up on the bed, honey.” He kisses you once you stand to your full height, guiding you onto the bed. 

You kneel into the middle of the firm mattress, shamelessly watching as he starts to take his pants and boxers off. He shakes his head as you make eye contact one last time, your lips turned up into a soft smile.

He pushes them down completely, stepping out of his pants and coming onto the bed next to you. You aren’t even looking at him, gaze caught on how his hard cock rests on his stomach when he lays down. 

The tip is bitten pink, one thick vein running down the side of it, he easily has the biggest cock you’ve ever seen, the size of it alone makes your stomach twist with need. The longer you looked at it the more you understood his persistence on making you cum before he fucked you. 

“Steve.” You swallow thickly, face struck with disbelief. There’s a hint of fear in your voice, a sound that he doesn’t like. 

“What’s wrong?” His eyebrows twist along his forehead, placing a hand on your thigh. 

“I’m not…I can’t.” You shake your head and place your gaze back to him. “I can’t do it…you’re too big I can’t take it.” 

Steve can’t help but smile, clicking his tongue in his mouth as he rubs your thigh. 

“You can do it, sweetheart.” He whispers, pulling you into his lap. “You’re such a good girl, I know you can do it.” 

“I can try.” You whine, melting in his arms like it’s nothing. “But I’m sorry-” 

“None of that, no sorries.” He kisses your cheek gently. “We’ll go so slow, yeah? Stretch you open nice and wide for me.” 

Your uneasiness fades into nothing, being replaced by the need to be close to him. You can feel yourself dripping on his abdomen, the slick connecting your cunt to his body. You feel hot, like if you don't get him fast enough you might just start crying. 

“Can I be on top?” You ask him, hands already locked around the back of his neck. 

“Yeah? You wanna fuck yourself onto me, baby?” He teases, managing to sit up a little bit with you on top of him. “Are you sure you can do it? Be a big girl for me?” 

Steve takes notice of how hard you whine when his words are a little condescending. Your focus drifting away, eyes closing as you smile gently and nod your head, trying to find the words to say to him. He never would have expected you to like it so much, but he’s not complaining whatsoever. 

“I can do it.” You nod, trying to find a stronger voice. “Need to feel you.” 

You placed your knees on either side of him, your hurt hand holding onto his shoulder. The feeling of the gauze there makes Steve feel it off him, checking that the bandage was still okay. 

He only looked at you, checking in on you silently the same way he did when your car broke down and he took it to Eddie’s shop for you. The room was loud and busy but even through it he gave you that reassuring look, reminding you he was right there if you needed him. 

“It feels okay. I promise.” You say quietly, earning a squeeze on your arm as he places your hand back down on his shoulder. 

You reach a hand between your bodies, taking his cock in your hand. It feels even bigger now that you’re holding it, one of your hands not being enough to wrap fully around the top half of it. Steve hisses when you rub your thumb over the slit, pushing the clear liquid leaking out around his burning skin. 

“Lift your hips a bit for me.” He suggests, opting to hold the back of one of your thighs to support you through it. You guide the tip of his cock to your entrance, the mere prodding of it against you makes you moan. 

You sink down slightly, letting his cock into you just enough to catch him there. Already your cunt is burning from the stretch, the wind being knocked out of you as you manage to fit the tip of his cock into you. 

“Look at you, baby.” He praises. “Already takin’ me so well, aren’t you?” 

The noises you were trying to conceal break free after that, a loud shaky whimper that has you opening your eyes to see his reaction. He’s staring at you the same way he always does, like you’re what makes the world turn on its axis, causing the sun to set and rise again. 

You try to sink down further, the burning sensation only getting worse. Steve can feel how much you’re stretching around him, your walls so tight around him that he’s moaning pornographically. He’s about halfway inside you now and you already feel full, having no idea how you’re meant to fit the rest of him inside. 

“Oh god.” You whine, pussy clenching around him tightly. “It’s s’big, you’re so big.” 

“I know, honey, I know.” He was rubbing your skin in any way he could, doing anything to ease the pain you were in. 

Your voice is almost as weepy as your cunt, dripping down his shaft more with each huff of air you let out. 

A little bit more of him pushes in, making your whole body tense in a way that has you pouting in discomfort. Steve knew this was bound to happen, never in his life had anyone taken him with ease on the first try. He hated knowing that this was hurting you, and by the choked up sounds you were making, he knew it was becoming a lot for you to handle. 

“I can’t.” You say, feeling embarrassed. “It’s too much, I can’t.” 

You had never had anything this big inside of you, your walls not knowing how to with it. The frustration bubbled up with the realisation that you wanted to move, to take him fully, but it felt impossible for a second. 

“Hey hey.” Steve whispers quickly, sitting up so he can tug you into his chest a bit. Firm hands rub your naked back, trying to calm the repeated whimpers you let out. 

“So brave, hm?” He tells you, letting you tuck your head into his shoulder. “Why’re you embarrassed, baby? I’m so proud of you, doing such a good job.” 

He feels you relax into him, shoulders untenseing, your gummy walls opening up for him once again. Steve chuckles as he hears you whine, pulling your face from his neck and looking at him again. Even though it's the first time you’re having sex with him, he knows you well, he knows what you want.  

“You were so sure of yourself with my fingers in you.” He taunts, feeling you sliding down his cock at a painfully slow rate.. “Not so tough anymore, huh? My cocks too much…what did I tell you, honey?” 

Your head falls back, a loud sigh escaping you when you’re able to take more of him, making Steve groan. He reaches to tug on one of your nipples, the sensitive bud hardening under his fingertips almost immediately. 

“I can do it.” You argue, walls fluttering around him with need. “Want it all.” 

You let out one last shaky breath, relaxing your body as you take the last bit of him. The fullness you feel is overwhelming, making it seem as if he was in your stomach. You’re gasping as you let him sit in you fully, trying to remember how to breathe properly. 

“That’s it, there you go, sweetheart.” Steve grunts. “You feel so good for me, your pretty pussy keeping me nice and warm.” 

“Oh my- mmm” You pant, fingernails scraping the back of his neck. Your head is a mess, thoughts floating around so fast that you can’t catch them. 

The burn of the stretch begins to fade slowly, clit aching with how much you need to move on him. He’s so big, but you know it’s gonna feel heavenly when you start to bounce on his cock, letting him really split you open. 

You try to move, try to lift your hips and move back down onto him but you can’t. Your thighs are shaking, buzzing with a cramping sensation with every move you make. Your hands move to his chest, trying to get leverage but they end up clenching into fists. 

“Oh you poor thing.” He teased. “Never been fucked this well have you? Don’t even know what to do with yourself.” 

“N-No.” You shook your head. “I need you to help me, Steve, please.” 

He’s grabbing one of your legs and untucking it from where you kneel, telling you to wrap your legs around him. It’s a bit awkward trying to manoeuvre your body when he’s inside you, every movement making you wince. The new position has the tip of his cock hitting deep inside your channel, rubbing on that sweet spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back into your head. 

It’s a sticky mess between your bodies, your slick coating everything below it from your inner thighs to Steve’s balls. Once you're seated fully on him, you can't stop moaning, feeling every single inch of him pressing into you. His thick arms wrap around you, practically hugging you as he kisses you over and over again, letting you whine into his mouth. 

Slowly, he begins pulling your body into him, moving his cock inside you for the first time. It’s sinful how easily your bodies slide together, the motion happening with no struggle at all. His chest hairs are brushing against your breasts, tickling your nipples each time you’re pulled back into his body. 

“O-Oh.” It’s a high pitched whimper. “You’re so…you’re so deep.” The way his cock is nudging against your cervix has you reeling, toes curling harshly. 

“You’re so fuckin’ wet, honey.” He murmurs, his nose nudging against your throat. “Feels so good around me.” 

His hair is a mess now, sticking out a few different ways, his lips are swollen a mean red colour, cheeks stained with a rosy blush. You wondered if he only looked this good when he was inside you, something you intended on putting to the test in the future. 

You move against him, not caring how much your legs hurt. The way his cock is sliding in and out of you is too good for you to not try and chase more of it. His fingertips are digging into your hips, holding you there as if he was afraid you were going to try and escape. 

“You hear that?” He whispers, looking at you with soft hazel eyes. “Hear how much she likes me?” 

He’s talking about your cunt, and it makes you dizzy. The lewd sounds from it are intense, a sticky squelching that fills the room every time his cock thrusts in and pulls out again. It’s delicious, and fuck does it feel good. 

Your moans have turned into sobs of pleasure, they’re desperate and breathy, begging him to not stop. It’s too late before you realise how fucked out you are, your emotions getting the best of you as you begin to mumble something that Steve can’t quite make out. 

“What is it, baby?” His fingers trace your spine, scratching lightly. 

“Am…Am I..” You choke out. “Am I your girl?” 

Steve’s face softens, pulling you back into his chest as he shushes you sweetly. Practically hugging you he starts whispering to you, not wanting you to be embarrassed for needing reassurance. He thinks you might be overwhelmed with pleasure, needing to hear him talk to you. 

“I’m right here.” He breathes. “You have me, I'm right here.” 

He can feel you shaking your head on his neck, fighting his biceps to let you look at him again. There’s a hollow feeling in your heart, a worry that he avoided your question for a reason. 

“Steve…Am I your girl?” Your eyes are glossy, lip caught between your teeth. “You called that earlier and…” You trail off, looking at him as you try and fight off the moans that threaten to spill. 

“Shh.” He whispers, one hand leaving your back to hold your face. “You’re my girl, honey. Ever since I saw you on my driveway you’ve been my girl.” 

He watches your expression soften into relief. 

“You’re so sweet and so perfect.” He tells you with confidence. “I don’t want anyone else.” 

With your bodies intertwined like this and the words leaving his mouth, Steve can’t stop feeling like maybe he had been wrong about love all this time. Maybe it wasn’t hot and cold or black and white. 

Loving you was warm, it was golden, like daylight. 

Both of your arms tighten around him, hanging onto him like your life depended on it. His fat cock is still dragging in and out of you, only adding to the immense love you’re feeling for him. He knows you’re content with his response by the long whiny sigh you let out into his ear. 

Steve can’t help but to reach down and search for your clit, rubbing the still sensitive bead as delicately as possible. The feels makes the pressure in your stomach grow faster, all the pain you felt before dissolving into a sugary sweet bliss. 

“Feels…feels good.” Is all you can get out, making Steve chuckle. 

“I bet it does, my pretty girl.” He growls, his cock twitching inside you. The same feeling is growing within Steve, his balls begging to drain with each thrust of his hips. “Can feel you tugging me in, know it must feel good.” 

You know you’re done for when you reach down and press a hand into the space above where your pubic hair would grow. You can feel the head of his cock against your hand, tapping it each time Steve pushes into you. 

“I-I…oh my fucking god.” You sob out. “I can feel you…” 

Steve’s hand is replacing yours before you can think to show him, licking his pink lips as he laughs. 

“Shit, baby.” He mocks, pressing his hand into it. “Can feel me in your tummy, huh? Pretty pussy…she's swallowing me whole.” 

Everything feels snug right now, from the fit of Steve’s cock in you to the space between your bodies. The bliss growing in your stomach is nearly tipping over the edge, making it hard to breathe in a normal pattern. The sound of Steve moaning and growling your name is making it impossible to keep off your orgasm, teary eyes dragging to look at him. 

“S-Steve.” You vibrate, body shaking again as you try and blink the tears away. 

“Yeah? Crying over my cock, sweetheart?” He’s taunting you again, knowing the impact it carries. “Just so bent out of shape, huh?” 

You don’t get a moment to think before you’re cumming again, white hot pleasure pulsing through your veins. The sob you let out is a scream, followed by several smaller ones back to back to back. You swear your ears are ringing, only being able to hear the small whispers from Steve. 

“There’s my good girl.” “Cum on my cock, that’s it.” “So sweet for me aren’t you?” 

As you come down your fingers tangle in his brown locks, letting him bite on the skin of your neck again as makes it to the finish line himself. He goes stiff against you with one final hard thrust, staying there as he paints your walls with his release. He thrusts a few times after that, letting his cock cool off from the overload of bliss. 

You stay tangled together for sometime after, catching your breath while you draw patterns into his skin. There’s a lingering fear in the air from both of you, not knowing what’s gonna happen when you lift your heads and see eachother again. 

He feels you move a hand over his heart once again, feeling it beating. 

“Are you okay?” You smile softly just how you did earlier. 

“Never been better.” He places a hand over your heart once more, feeling it for a few seconds. 

“Are you okay, honey?” He asks you. 

“Hanging on…by a lot more than a thread.” You whisper, letting your forehead fall against his before kissing him with the same gentleness as the first kiss you shared tonight. 

You felt at peace for the first time since you met Steve, not having to guess how he felt about you through shared glances and stolen touches. He was finally letting you in the way he dreamed of, feeling less scared of the idea of being loved by someone in this way. 

“Stay the night.” He whispered as he broke the kiss.

Your chest burned with happiness, your eyes smiling as well as your lips. 

“Is this to make up for all the nights you didn’t let me sleep here?” You asked with a light laugh. 

“Mm, yeah.” He nodded, pulling you closer. “And you know…you are my girl after all, right?” 

“Yeah…yeah, I am.” You whispered, looking at him fondly.

How’s everyone day? ☀️ ☁️

more about plums

Snoring contest

Choose your favorite and sleep well

P.S. Shadowheart doesn't have these sounds, so I guess she's lucky