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sidekick-hero · 5 months ago

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Here it is, the next chapter of my entry for the @steddiesummerexchange. This is a gift for my dear friend @starryeyedjanai 💜💜💜 Her prompt was 'Steve can't get his inheritance until he marries someone'. Shout out to @acasualcrossfade for being the best beta reader there is!

Pairings: Steve/Eddie, Robin/Chrissy Characters: Steve, Eddie, Robin, Chrissy, Max, Dustin, Wayne Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake Marriage, Platonic Stobin, Platonic Hellcheer, idiot4idiot, Friends to Husbands to Lovers, Humor and Fluff and a smudge Angst

Summary:

When Steve's grandmother dies, he finds out that he can only get his inheritance - half a million dollars - if he marries someone. It's her way of forcing Steve to live a heterosexual life. Sucks for her that gay marriage has been legalized since she wrote her will. Sucks for Steve that he doesn't have a man or woman in his life to marry. Cue Eddie Munson, roommate and best friend of Robin's girlfriend Chrissy and the guy Steve has had a crush on for years. What could possibly go wrong?

Read on AO3 - the fic is finished and has 4 chapters, the last one will drop June 24

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Chapter 2 (4.5k) under the cut

They all went out for dinner and drinks afterwards, and it turned out to be a great night. Robin and Chrissy both went into full planning mode, while Steve and Eddie decided to let them have their fun. Steve figured that if anyone besides himself knew what he wanted for his own wedding, it was Robin, and Eddie seemed to feel the same way about Chrissy.

It’s only after they'd all said their goodbyes that Steve takes a moment to let it all sink in.

As he lies in bed, the pleasant buzz of the fruity drinks he's had to celebrate slowly fading, he begins to realize what it will mean to marry Eddie. To have a real wedding.

Because a wedding ceremony means he has to tell people. It will be official. And while he's not exactly hiding that he's bi, he's not exactly out at work either. It just never really mattered, because in the two years he's been working at the station, he hasn't seen anyone outside of hookups and a few failed dates. Most of those were with women anyway. So he hasn't exactly lied, just not told the whole truth.

That would have to change now, he guessed. Because even if he didn't invite his team to the wedding - which he will, because they're his family, too - Captain Hopper would know because of the paperwork. Steve knows that if he asked Jim, he wouldn't tell the others. But he would also look at Steve with disappointment and hurt because he would feel that Steve doesn't trust them, and the thought of letting down the man who has become the closest thing to a father figure he has in his life aside from Robin's dad is unfathomable to him.

Which means he's going to have to tell his team, and sooner rather than later.

Just as he somehow accepts this and decides to go talk to Jim before his next shift, another thought hits him.

Max.

He's going to have to tell his little sister. Worst of all, he doesn't even know what to tell her, because either he'd make her an accomplice to his scam, or he'd lie to her and pretend that he and Eddie had been together for a while. Which would make her think that he has been lying to her for months and hiding his relationship from her.

Then he remembers that the same goes for Dustin, the kid he used to babysit and who has become as much his little brother as Max is his little sister. The family he chose. He's either going to have to lie to him, too, or drag him into this whole mess.

Fuck.

After tossing and turning for what feels like hours, his mind racing, Steve finally gives up trying to fall asleep and rolls out of bed again. Wrapping his blanket around his shoulders, he shuffles over to Robin's room. Selfishly, he's glad that Chrissy went home with Eddie tonight, so he can just walk into Robin's room and crawl into bed with her.

"Dingus?" her sleepy voice greets him, already scooting over to make room for him.

"Yeah, it's me. Couldn't sleep."

She turns on her side and forces her eyes open with what looks like great effort. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really," he answers, only it sounds more like a question. The truth is, he doesn't know what to say.

Robin just hums, and after a long moment of silence, he speaks again.

"It's just. Chrissy said nothing has to change, but that's not true. Things will change. I have to tell Hop and the others at the station. They don't even know I'm bi, it's like high school all over again."

Robin makes a sound in the back of her throat and takes his hand in hers. "No, it's not. You were outed against your will in high school. What that asshole Hagan did was a complete dick move. These people are your friends, your family. Even if you tell them that about yourself, I'm sure they won't feel any different about you, Steve."

Deep down he thinks he knows that. Or at least he hopes it's true. But it's still nice to hear Robin say it.

"Maybe. But they're going to hate that I lied. They'll probably think I don't trust them."

"Well," Robin begins, choosing her words carefully, "can you blame them? There must be a reason why you haven't told them yet."

"It just never came up," he justifies.

"Steve," she says, her tone clearly saying 'come on now'. "I've been to the last two Christmas parties at the station, and I met your team at your birthday. You talk about your dating lives and your hookups and even your childhoods. They know about Max and your bad relationship with your parents. Don't you think you could have said, 'Yeah, I don't talk to my parents because they're total scumbags who kicked me out the minute they found out I liked men too'?".

He sighs deeply, defeated.

"You're right. I was afraid they would look at me differently. That they'd think less of me, like -"

"Like your parents did. I know. But Steve, not everybody is like your parents. They don't know what an amazing person you are. A wonderful and loyal friend, a selfless and brave man who risks his own life every day to save others, and a loving and caring older brother who is more of a role model than they've ever been."

Steve feels his eyes burning and his throat tightening with emotion.

"And yet you wouldn't marry me," he deflects, and Robin punches him in the shoulder.

"Way to ruin the moment, Dingus."

"What can I say, it's a talent," he says with a wink before sobering up. "But seriously, thanks, Robs. You're the best friend I could ever ask for. I would totally crash and burn without you."

"I know. For the record, you're not so bad yourself. And as for things changing. You know change doesn't have to be a bad thing, right?"

They've talked a few times about his aversion to change. It scares him because he's always afraid it means he's going to lose something. Or someone. He's working on it.

"Yeah. I know." Theoretically, he adds quietly in his head.

"And you know you won't lose me or Max or Dustin just because things change, right?"

“I-” he starts, almost hating the way Robin knows him so well. “I guess?”

"But I might have to lie to them, Robs. I can’t drag them into this mess. What if they end up hating me when they find out I faked a marriage and lied about it? Or what if they’re mad because I never even mentioned this ‘relationship’ with Eddie before?”

"They won't hate you, Steve. They might be angry or hurt at first, but they would get over it. They love you, okay? Just like I do. No matter what happens. Even when we’re not living together anymore, it doesn’t mean we won’t see each other all the time or that we won’t be as close. You’re my best friend, my platonic soulmate. Nothing’s going to change that.”

Her words soothe something deep inside him, where his heart has never quite stopped aching since the day his mother silently closed the front door in his face, leaving him standing there with his hastily packed bag after they told him to leave and never come back. As all of her words fully register, he involuntarily squeezes her hand.

"What do you mean, 'when' we're not living together anymore?"

The longer it takes for Robin to answer, the faster his heart starts beating, until he thinks he might have a heart attack.

Just as he's about to ask again, Robin answers. "I mean, now that you and Eddie are getting married, Chrissy and I thought that, well, Eddie would probably move in with you, and that I, um..."

"That you'd move in with Chrissy," he says flatly. It's not a question.

"Yes," she whispers, as if afraid he'll break if she speaks too loudly. He very well might.

They lie quietly in Robin's bed, the darkness around them like a living, breathing thing.

He has never felt so lost. It's not that he doesn't get it—he does. Robin and Chrissy have been together for four years now, and having separate apartments has worked for them so far. But Steve understands that they'd want to share a life and an apartment at some point. He just didn't think that time would be now. But it makes sense, because he and Eddie are supposed to move in together when they get married.

It's just that, in his mind, that didn't equate to Robin moving out.

"Steve," Robin tries again, clearly worried but determined to fix this. "I don't have to move out right away. It was just an idea. It doesn't mean it has to happen right away."

"No. No, you're right. It makes sense. It's just," he hesitates before pressing on, "whenever I thought about one of us getting married, or at least moving in with a partner, I still thought we'd be living together. It's silly, I know," he adds hastily, because he does know that, "and way too co-dependent."

"It's not silly, Dingus. I won't deny that it sounds pretty co-dependent, but it's not like that's, I don't know, new for us?"

That makes him laugh, if only half-heartedly.

"And who says we won't? Maybe we can, y'know, try the whole living apart thing, and if we don't like it, we'll work something out. It's not like there aren't options. We could get a house for the four of us. It doesn't have to be all or nothing."

Drawing Robin into his arms, Steve makes a thoughtful sound. "I'm pretty sure you're right, because you usually are. Just give me a little time to get used to the idea, will you?"

It's a testament to how well she knows him that Robin—guessing he's feeling raw right now and needs the physical reassurance—settles into his embrace without a fuss.

"Of course. It'll be fine. With your team and Max and Dustin. And with us, too. I hate that your parents made it so hard for you to trust people's love for you, you know?"

He kisses her forehead gently, putting all the love and gratitude he feels into the gesture, and murmurs into her hair, "Me too."

The next day, after a hearty hangover breakfast, Steve decides to bite the bullet and face his little sister's wrath. After his talk with Robin, he came to the conclusion that he’d rather risk Max and Dustin being angry at him for seemingly lying to them about his love life than involve them in his own mess and make them accomplices to his wedding scam to get his inheritance.

Even though part of him would prefer to do this over the phone and not look Max in the eye when he tells her, a larger part of him knows that this is something that needs to be done in person. So he makes the trip to her campus and finds her in her room, nose deep in her studies, when her roommate opens the door for him.

It's not often that he comes to visit. Not because he doesn't want to, but because she insists that she doesn't want her older brother hanging around and embarrassing her in front of her friends. He would be more offended were it not for the fact that Max regularly comes to their place for game nights like the secret dork that she is. Besides, he's pretty sure that Max just wants more of a reason to hang out with Robin, not just him. She never had many girl friends, just Jane, her best friend, and Steve thinks that Max looks up to Robin. Which is cool, because in Steve's eyes, Robin’s the best person ever and Max could have much worse role models.

Things were a little tense when Robin first started dating Chrissy, probably because Max felt threatened by the new woman in Robin's life. But she got over it surprisingly quickly, and now Chrissy joins their game nights more often than not. That's how Max knows Eddie in the first place, because he makes a habit of showing up mid-game to join them, claiming he was bored all alone at home, abandoned like a badly behaved dog. Steve doesn’t really believe him, because he knows well enough that Eddie has friends and gets out quite a bit, but it's not like he minds Eddie hanging around. He just wonders sometimes why he would lie about it.

"Hey, little sis! Studying on a Saturday morning? Sure we're related?”

Max looks up from her textbooks, a mixture of surprise and suspicion flickering across her face at the sight of her older brother dropping by unannounced. "Hey, Steve. What's up?"

On the way here, Steve had thought about how to open the conversation, but hadn't been able to make up his mind before entering the dorm. Should he just say it, get it over with, or should he ease her in? Start with some small talk? Max isn't really the small talk type, but it feels wrong to just say, 'Good to see you. Guess what, I'm marrying Eddie, the guy who hangs around the apartment sometimes and you had no idea I was even dating. Surprise, I guess.'

Yeah, no. Small talk it is.

"Can't I just go visit my little sister and see what she's up to?" Steve deflects, flinching at Max's raised eyebrow.

She looks thoroughly unimpressed as she replies, "Steve, we saw each other three days ago. It may come as a shock to you, but college isn't exactly like those stupid movies. So, spill it. What's so important that you had to drop by unannounced?"

Well, he should have known this wasn't going to work on Max. She's always been way too smart for her own good, and her bullshit detector is unparalleled.

Steve takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the bombshell he's about to drop. "So, remember Eddie? The guy who's been crashing our game nights with Robin and Chrissy for the past four years? The guy who eats all of the good snacks and leaves the rest of us with the salty popcorn?”

Max nods slowly, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Yeah, what about him?"

"Well, funny story... He and I, uh, we're getting married."

Max's jaw drops and she almost chokes on the coffee she just took a sip of. "Wait, what? You’re getting married? To Eddie?"

Steve winces, realizing he might have botched the delivery. In his defense, he’s not sure there is a better way to deliver this kind of news. "Yeah, I know it's a bit out of left field. But hear me out..."

He starts explaining his thing with Eddie, weaving in a story that's only partly made-up. Steve talks about how he's kinda had a crush on Eddie for a while but never really thought Eddie felt the same. Max doesn’t look surprised at that part, just nods like she’s saying “Duh,” and Steve wonders how transparent his feelings for Eddie really had been.

Before he can get lost worrying about that, he goes on, making up some romantic-sounding story about how one night, they were just watching a movie, and boom! Next thing he knows, their hands are both going for the chips, and suddenly their fingers are all tangled up, swiftly followed by their lips. Max rolls her eyes so hard that Steve’s afraid she’s hurting something, but he also sees the corner of her mouth ticking upward. Robin once told him that she and Max had watched a few rom-coms together when he wasn’t home, so he thinks she secretly likes these kinds of stories almost as much as he does.

He finishes his story by shrugging his shoulders and admitting that he’d been the one to ask Eddie to put a ring on it, eager to lock down the guy he's been into for ages. It’s exactly the kind of self-deprecating joke he needs to lighten the mood, unable to endure the building tension in the room.

"And I know what you're thinking. 'Steve, you never even mentioned you were dating!' But trust me, it's not because I didn't want to. I just... didn't know how to break it to you."

Max's eyes narrow, her hurt evident. "So, what, you don’t trust me?"

Steve's heart sinks at the hurt in Max's voice. God, he never wanted to hear her sound like that again. It dredges up memories of all they've been through with their family, the wounds still raw. “No, Max, that's not... Damn it!” Steve curses, frustration and guilt knotting in his stomach. “I'm screwing this up. That's why I didn't tell you in the first place. I just... I didn't know when to tell you. You've always been there for me, especially after Mom and Dad...” His voice trails off, heavy with the weight of it all. “It's my fault you lost them. I didn't want you to lose anyone else because of me, so it felt like a big risk to bring someone new into our lives.”

Max's expression softens, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Oh, Steve. You’re an idiot." She sighs, rolling her eyes for effect. "It’s not your fault I stopped talking to them. I chose you over them because you're my brother, and they are bigoted assholes who hurt you."

Max's words feel like balm on his frayed nerves, but at the same time he is consumed with guilt for using their shared history and pain to make her believe his lie. He knows why he's doing it, but suddenly the phrase "the road to hell is paved with good intentions" makes a lot more sense to him.

It seems that some of this has registered with his sister as well, because Max isn't finished yet.

"But I also call bull. This isn't about me. You're scared. Scared of getting hurt again, of letting someone in and having them leave. You didn't tell anyone before because that would have made it real."

Steve swallows hard, the weight of Max's words hitting him like a ton of bricks. His relationship with Eddie isn't even real, but her words still hit him. They've been through too much together for him to deny that she's right. He owes her that if he can't tell her the whole truth.

"Yeah, you’re right. It’s just that… I’m scared of messing things up, I guess. With you, or with Robin..."

"Or with Eddie?" Max adds, a sad smile on her face.

"Or with Eddie," Steve agrees, realizing it's true. He doesn't want to screw this up, even if it's just a scam. Eddie is still important to him, and he doesn't want to lose him because of some scheme to get his inheritance.

Max reaches across the table to grasp Steve's hand, her touch as comforting as when she first stood in his door, declaring she told their parents to screw themselves before hugging him, clinging to him for dear life. "You won't lose me, Steve. I'm here for you, no matter what. And Eddie seems like a good guy. He would be even dumber than I thought he is if he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life with you. So, if he makes you happy, then I'm happy for you. And if you tell anyone I said that, I'll shave your head in your sleep."

Even as he laughs at Max’s threat, Steve's eyes mist over with tears, overwhelmed by Max's unwavering support. "Thanks, Max. You have no idea how much that means to me. Threats and all."

Max squeezes his hand gently, a small smile playing on her lips. "Anytime, big brother. Just promise me one thing."

"Anything."

"Please don't let this turn into one of those rom-com clichés where everything goes horribly wrong because no one just talked to each other."

Steve chuckles through his tears, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "I'll do my best, Max. I promise."

As much as he’d dreaded this talk, he’s glad he came over to tell Max. He feels lighter now.

Some days, he hates how often Robin is right about the important things in life, considering that she also believes that Bigfoot is real.

He's already out the door a few minutes later, after Max basically kicked him out so she could learn, when she gets up and walks over to him. “Oh, one more thing. I’ll be bringing someone to your wedding and I want you to remember that you owe me and not ask a single question. I’ll tell you when I tell you, just like you.”

“What? Who're you -” Steve starts, totally flabbergasted.

“Not a single question, Steve. See you soon, take care, say hi to Robin, and tell Eddie that I’ll break his hand if he breaks your heart.” With that, she closes the door in his face.

He probably deserved that.

Talking to Dustin the next day goes something similar.

Steve can't visit him on campus because the little genius just started his master's degree in bioengineering at MIT, a year ahead of his peers, because of course he is. So he has to resort to a phone call.

He skips any attempt at small talk, though, mostly because Dustin is doing the talking for both of them, telling him all about something that is way over his head, but makes him smile for all the passion he hears in Dustin's voice.

"That sounds... very cool, man. I have no idea what it all means, but I'm pretty sure you're going to be cooler than Batman pretty soon." Before Dustin can interrupt him to explain whatever he just said about DNA replication, Steve continues, "I also have something to tell you.”

That, at least, piques Dustin's interest.

Steve tells him the same version of his and Eddie's origin story that he told Max, and just like Max, Dustin doesn't seem to find it particularly hard to believe that Steve had a big ol' crush on Eddie and proposed to him over it. What he finds much harder to believe is that neither Steve nor Eddie told him about it.

"I can't believe Eddie didn't tell me either; we tell each other everything!"

Steve seriously doubts that, even though he knows that Dustin and Eddie have become quite close over the last four years. They hit it off right away, bonding over their weird little fantasy game that Dustin's been playing with his friends for as long as Steve's known him. Eddie apparently ran a club for the same game in high school, and before Steve knew it, Dustin and Eddie had become best buds. Dustin's passionate stories about how great Eddie was should have made Steve jealous, and they did, a little. But they also fueled his crush on the other man, because nothing in his life could ever be simple.

That's probably why Steve finds himself defending Eddie by throwing himself under the bus.

"I asked him not to tell you guys. I'm sorry, man. It's just..."

Dustin's silence on the other end is unnerving. Steve can almost hear the gears turning in his brain. He can picture Dustin sitting in his cluttered dorm room, probably surrounded by textbooks and lab equipment, frowning in concentration.

"It's just what, Steve?" Dustin finally asks, his voice a mixture of confusion and hurt.

"It's just that I was scared," Steve admits, the words coming out in a rush. "Scared of messing things up. I mean, this thing with Eddie... it feels huge. I never felt that way about anyone before. And I know it sounds stupid, but... it scares the shit outta me, man. And I know how much you like Eddie, too, so, yeah. I didn't want to risk putting you in a position where you felt like you had to choose sides or something if it didn't work out, I guess?”

The line goes quiet for a moment, and Steve wonders if he's said too much. Especially because he has no idea where this is all coming from. He also finds it harder and harder to remind himself that it’s just a story and that he and Eddie aren’t really together. But then Dustin sighs, and it sounds like the weight of the world is in that sigh. "Steve, you idiot. You know I love you, right? You and Eddie both. I’d never take sides, I’m way too mature for that. You should have trusted me."

"I know, I know," Steve says, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I just... didn’t think this through, I guess."

"Yeah, well, that’s why you have me. You don't have to handle it on your own," Dustin says firmly. "We're a team, remember? And that means relying on each other and not keeping secrets."

“You’re right, okay? I’m sorry, Dustin.”

Apparently, that’s exactly what Dustin wanted to hear, because Steve can hear the smug grin in his voice. “I know. And it’s okay. I forgive you.”

Steve feels too much relief to be annoyed at Dustin’s ego. To know that he has Dustin's loyalty and support like that mean the world to him. It’s like balm to the wounds his parents and grandma left on him, to learn that not everybody leaves just because he hasn’t been perfect. "Thanks, Dusty. I don't deserve you."

"You're right, you don't," Dustin retorts, but Steve can hear the smile in his voice. "But you're stuck with me anyway. So, when's the wedding? And don't even think about getting married without me there."

Steve laughs, the tension finally easing. "Don't worry, you'll be there. I wouldn't dream of having it without my groomsman."

"Groomsman, huh? Damn right I am," Dustin says, and Steve can practically see his chest puffing out with pride. "But wait, who's the best man? If you say it's Eddie's old dungeon master, I'm gonna lose it."

"Robin," Steve clarifies, chuckling. "She’s my best man, or best woman, whatever you call it. And before you ask, I’m pretty sure Eddie’s best man is Chrissy."

"Ah, makes sense," Dustin says with a satisfied nod in his voice. "I can accept that, I guess. But you better tell Eddie that if he hurts you, I'll kick his ass. And you tell him I mean it, too."

"I will," Steve promises, a smile tugging at his lips. "Thanks, Dustin. Really."

"Anytime, Steve. Now go tell Eddie that I’m still angry at him for not telling me and he better make it up during our next campaign."

Steve hangs up the phone feeling lighter than he has in days. At least until he remembers that he just told Max and Dustin a story about him and Eddie getting together that he hasn’t discussed with Eddie yet. So what if Eddie also told people but used a totally different story?

Well, fuck.

Grabbing his keys from the side table by the door and putting on his shoes, he texts Eddie that they need to talk and that he’ll be over in twenty minutes.

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steve x eddie #steddiesummerexchange #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie x steve #stranger things fanfiction #platonic stobin #platonic hellcheer #my writing

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babyonboard · 1 year ago

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Ultraviolence | part 1

Bradley Bradshaw x F!Reader x Jake Seresin

Summary: You and Bradley loved each other, and Jake was just your old friend from high school who you tried to pay no mind to. At least that's how it used to be.

Word Count: 9.7k (for one part? oops!)

Warnings/tags-18+ MDNI, infidelity, some alcohol abuse, emetophobia, talk of body image, so much cussing?? smut, oral, Bradley is so sexy but also a dick. Jake is a dick but also so sexy. Enemies to Lovers (ish), slowburn(ish)

You weren’t the only person who thought Jake Seresin was completely and fully infuriating. He was cocky, he had a loud mouth, his cologne was entirely too strong, he made everything about him, and, worst of all, he was insatiably alluring. You’ve known him since high school, which is about 8 years longer than you’ve known your husband Bradley. You could swear under oath that Jake’s ego grows every passing second. But truly, who could blame him? A blonde, tan skinned Texan with an old Hollywood smile. Wealthy parents and always top of his class. The only thing, the only person that has ever given him an ego check, was you.

When you were 23, you moved into the apartment next to Bradley. At the time, he was just your insanely hot neighbor who also happened to be a navy aviator. To him, you were his sweet, absolute doll of a next-door-neighbor who smelled like vanilla when he passed you in the hallway and would never in a million years be interested in him. The two of you engaged in occasional small talk in the elevator, he helped you move your new desk up the stairs, and he asked you to feed his dog when he would leave for the weekend. Eventually he started inviting you over for wine after he got off work, his smile made you feel more tipsy than any moscato ever could. Before long, you were sleeping in his bed just as much as he would sleep in yours. You cooked him dinner after work, and he would bring you flowers on Saturdays. Bradley was so sweet in the beginning. He still had his class-clown charm, but he was warm and charismatic. Anybody would have fallen under his spell, and you were no exception.

Bradley was so excited to bring you around his friends. You were funny and sexy as fuck, and he wanted to show you off. He brought you to the Hard Deck to meet them all for the first time. Well, meet them all except one for the first time.

When your eyes fell on Jake Seresin, his unmistakable smile plastered on his face as he took a swig from his beer, your jaw fell open. “Is that Jake Seresin?” You gasped. Even though you asked it as a question, you knew the answer. That Texan with blonde hair and a visible attitude was undoubtedly Jake Seresin.

Bradley’s stomach dropped. “Oh god, you know hangman?” He could have gotten on his knees right there and prayed to god that you weren’t Jake’s ex girlfriend, or ex hookup, or ex anything at all. A part of him actually hoped that you hated him.

Jake’s eyes scanned the bar, coming to a stop on you. His eyes widened and his brows furrowed, and a wide mouthed smile started to spread across his face. Y/N. Y/N from high school. You looked so different, but still exactly the same. He beelined for you, shaking his head as he approached. The warmth that your smile stirred up in his stomach was oh so familiar, the same warmth that Rooster felt everyday.

“Y/N L/N” he chuckled.

“Jake Seresin.” You laughed.

“You two know each other?” Bradley interjected.

“We went to high school together.” You said, setting your arm on Bradley’s shoulder. The feeling of your gentle hand on him calmed whatever possessive jealousy was coursing through his veins.

Bradley was not jealous of Hangman. Nope, not at all. He didn’t care that the two of you knew each other 4 years ago, and he definitely didn’t care that Hangman bought you a drink “for old times sake.” It didn’t bother him that the man who proposed the most competition in the sky was now chatting up his girl, proposing a completely new type of competition. Not one bit.

“You jealous?” You approached Bradley from across the bar. He shook his head, unclenching his jaw. He grabbed you by your belt loop, beer in his other hand, and pulled you towards him. “Should I be?” He asked. Quiet, diluted venom laced his words. You dropped your act, he was actually mad. Realizing that it might not be as funny as you thought it was, you brought your hand up to his neck.

He didn’t look you in the eyes, his gaze completely past your face and on the bar behind you. This upset him more than you realized. “I promise you it’s not like that. I’m with you.” He looked at you again. You used your grip on the back of his neck to pull his face towards you. “Plus he’s a dick.” A smile finally cracked on Bradleys face, and the two of you laughed. His hands slid down your back and onto your ass. He hoped Hangman was watching.

“And…” He squeezed your ass “I’m the one who gets to fuck you every night.”

Hangman was watching, not even by choice at this point, more so because he just could not tear his eyes away from how your ass looked in those jeans. But he didn’t actually care that you were Bradley’s. Sure, you were sexy as hell, and he liked giving Rooster a run for his money, but he wasn’t dead set on having you. At least not tonight.

Rooster took you home that night and he tore those jeans right off of you. He fucked you good, made you tell him you were his. And you did, you repeated it like a mantra. I’m yours Bradley. All yours, no one else's.

From that point on you understood that there needed to be a boundary with Jake. You knew that since you and Bradley were together, you would see Jake a lot. Out at the bars, military balls, absolutely anything work related, but also socially because Bradley and Jake really were friends. You kept your distance from Jake when you saw him, only talking to him in groups and letting Bradley hang all over you when he was around. This, in turn, drove Jake crazy. Thinking back on his life, you were the only girl that he truly could not have. Back in high school he was never really that interested in you. You had mutual friends and saw each other at parties. He was in your prom group and he was your assigned lab partner in sophomore chemistry. You never particularly caught his eye, but he never caught yours either. He kicks himself now on the missed opportunity, but how was he supposed to know you would turn into the smokeshow you are now? It drove him up the fucking wall.

As time went on and Bradley and Jake got closer, it became more socially acceptable for you to talk to Jake. North Island was a small town, and while a lot of the aviators left to different bases, Bradley and Jake stayed. Maybe it was maturity, or maybe it was because he stopped caring, but Bradley didn’t pay any mind to you and Jake anymore. You were open to talk to him whenever you pleased, as long as you let Bradley come up and kiss your neck at some point in the conversation. Jake became your beer pong and darts partner, and the two of you were frequently laughing over old high school memories. He talked far too much about his high school football career and how great he was. Thinks he could’ve gone pro, but chose to be a military hero instead. Of course, Jake was still arrogant with unhealthy levels of confidence. He talked to you like you were in love with him and he knew it, which could not be further from the truth.

One night in particular, at one of the many military award balls, you thought about re-establishing that boundary you used to have. Bradley looked so good in his dress whites, and you complimented him so well in your floor length, shimmery gold dress. Bradley had done exceptionally well that year, he was receiving praises all night from his fellow aviators and whatever military big-shots that chose him to win awards. While he was off accepting these gracious compliments, reasonably leaving you alone at the table, Jake approached you. He didn't say anything, he just pulled out the chair next to you and sat down. He also looked incredibly good in his dress whites, but in a different way than Bradley. You mentally scolded yourself when you thought about how good looking he was. He sighed next to you, neither of you acknowledging the other at first. Your gaze was on Bradley, who was graciously shaking someone's hand and laughing. You sipped your wine, finishing the whole glass. “You clean up nice.” He said, finally looking over at you. You could smell his cologne. It was musky and clean and it burned your nose.

“Likewise.” You smiled softly at him. He looked at you like he needed to say something, like he was dying to. A smirk, or maybe a smile played on his lips. Your gaze rested on his mouth for a second, discerning between the two. “What?” You giggled to ease whatever tension was hanging between you.

“Nothing.” He continued his heavy gaze on you. “Just memories.” You wanted to roll your eyes, he is so cliche, but you decided to be nice. His blue eyes were hard to tear your eyes away from, but you did, and looked around to see Bradley, who was now talking to a girl who was one of his copilots.

“If I remember correctly, that dress is the same color your prom dress was.” He gestured down at your golden dress, now dragging on the floor and stuck under your chair.

You straightened your back. “Yeah. Yeah it is.”

He nodded with a smile. “I knew it.” Another moment passed, and you subconsciously looked back to where Bradley was, but you didn’t see him anymore.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Jake leaned his arms against the white table cloth, bunching it up under his forearms as they slid a little closer to you.

“Yes…” You tilted your head. His cologne was burning your nose and your eyes and lighting your skin on fire. Jake Seresin was beautiful to admire from afar, but now, he was up close. He was close to your face, close enough to touch, close enough that if you wanted to kiss him you could grab his face and do it.

“I really liked you back in high school.” Whatever smile-smirk he had was spreading across his face. Like a wildfire, the smirk spread onto your lips too.

“That’s not true.” You looked down, this moment sending you straight back into your 17 year old persona, shy and bashful. Maybe Jake was also taking on his 17 year old persona, or maybe he’s still the same charming and confident boy he’s always been.

“It is.” He said. You didn’t know this, but he was lying. He was indifferent about you in high school, but he does wish he would have paid more attention to you back then. Maybe then he would be the guy with the girl in the gold dress, not Bradley.

“You never paid any attention to me in high school. And you always had a girlfriend.” You reached for your glass to give you something to do with your hands, even though it was empty.

“So? I remembered your prom dress, didn't I?” He did not, in fact, remember your prom dress. He had recently stalked your facebook. “You looked so gorgeous that night.”

You could do nothing but try and push away your smile. Jake Seresin was a hypnotic, poisonous virus that could work its way under any girl's skin, and once again, you were absolutely no exception.

“I mean, you looked almost as good as you look tonight.” He finally broke eye contact, a subconscious attempt to seem coy.

Snapped out of the blue eyed trance, you shook your head. “Thank you, Jake.” You said. Clearing your throat, you wanted to change the subject, to get rid of this strange feeling in your stomach. "Where's your date? Jessica, right? Oh no, wait, Jessica was who you brought to the bar last weekend. Emma is your date tonight, right?" You weren't trying to embarrass him, it was more an attempt to figuratively slap him in the face for flirting with you.

A scoff broke through the laugh he let out. He couldn't deny these claims, they were obviously true. "I don't really know where she is." He looked around in a fake attempt to find her. "And I don't really care right now." He looked back at you, and you had to look away. It was entirely too much, his cologne, his dress whites, his eyes, and his flattery. It stirred up your stomach in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. “I’m gonna go find Bradley.” You breathed out. You stumbled as you stood up and walked away.

It wasn’t wrong, you weren’t doing anything. Jake complimented you and you talked about high school, what else is new? But for some reason, you couldn’t shake that guilty feeling out of your conscience, even when you found Bradley and he looked so hot and you forgot about every other man that existed while he fucked you that night, the dress that Jake loved oh so much bunched up around your waist.

When you and Bradley got married, Jake was one of the groomsmen. He stood right by Bradley at the altar, he teared up at his vows. It was around this time that Jake started to treat you differently. He was nicer, gentler, and didn't treat you like a sexual venture. He still infuriated everyone else, but he was softer with you. He brushed off what he felt for you as a protectiveness. You were his best friend's wife, he knew you since you were 15. He knew a different side of you, and he felt the need to protect you. And he told himself that’s all it was. Even if it was something more, he would never act on it. He knew he would just have to settle for occasionally thinking you were hot when he saw you, and occasionally thinking about you while he had another girl underneath him, wondering if Rooster fucks you the way he would. The way you deserve. He knows he doesn’t.

You didn’t really get much time to talk to Jake on your wedding day, but to be honest, it never really crossed your mind. Not until you were at your way-to-expensive open bar, ordering another cocktail, and he came up behind you. “Hi there bride.” He said.

You turned to face him and the air leaving his lungs was almost audible. Oh my god did you look beautiful. Your hair pulled away from your face, a few strands hanging in your face from dancing. Glitter on your eyelids, your lips slightly puffy from so much kissing and singing and talking. And you smiled when you saw him.

“Jake!” You smiled. Yes, you were tipsy, but you would have been excited to see him regardless. You swung your arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. Your perfume and his cologne mixed in the air around the two of you. He wrapped his arms around your torso and tucked his nose down on your shoulder.

“You look gorgeous, Y/N.” He said against your ear. You closed your eyes and hummed.

He felt like a sticky mouse trap that you couldn’t pull yourself away from. “Thank you.”

Whether it was subconscious or not, you forced yourself to break the hug and turn back to the bar to get your drink. All he could do was watch as you gave him a drunk wink and walked away.

Back in the real world, Bradley smiled when you came into view. “There she is!” He grabbed your hand and spun you around to the music. He sang to you and held you around the waist. The music was loud and your vision was slightly hazy and you were the happiest you had ever felt. Bradley kissed you every chance he got, calling you his wife even more than that. How could you, much less anyone not love this man?

A cute little house on North Island, not far from the ocean. Two dogs, a newlywed couple, and lots of love to go around. That’s how it was for a year or so. You wouldn’t say picture perfect, because every family has its flaws, but it was perfect for you. Bradley would go to work, you would go to yours, and when you got home the two of you would eat dinner and watch a show together. Bradley loved getting home from a long day and fucking his wife good and long until he was scared the neighbors might hear. It was simple, but it was nice.

You simply cannot pinpoint the exact time things started to change. To be fair, you couldn’t expect things to go perfectly in your marriage for the rest of your life, but you wish they didn’t go the way this one was. He would come home from work later, say he already ate, and leave you eating by yourself at the kitchen table. He never wanted to shower with you anymore, which used to be his favorite activity. He didn’t fuck you as much, or as good as he used to. It was half-assed, almost like it was a chore. Missionary in bed a few times a week, and there were a couple of times where he didn’t finish, which left you embarrassed with a vulnerable pit in your stomach. You thought he was just getting bored, which people had warned you would happen, so you pulled out all the stops. You bought new fancy lingerie, you sent him absolutely filthy texts while he was at work, you wore no underwear and told him as you were leaving the house. All things that used to rile him up. And sometimes it worked. Sometimes he would get one of those texts at work, come home and see you on your bed in deep red lingerie, and he would crawl on top of you and all would be right in the world. But it always ended up fizzling back out into you wondering what in the hell you were doing wrong. You wanted nothing more in the world than to please him, and you couldn’t even do that. He still told you he loved you every day, and he still kissed you on the forehead before bed, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Like any other person with a brain, the possibility of him cheating on you had come to mind several times. But you were always able to shake it off, he would never. Not Bradley, not your Bradley.

On Bradleys 29th birthday, you threw him a party. All of his copilots were there, Phoenix even drove in from Seal Beach. Jake was there, of course, he only lived a few blocks away. He brought Bradley a birthday present and he brought you a bottle of wine. He said it was because he knew you worked so hard on the party, and you couldn't wipe a star struck slap happy smile from your face. You knew Bradley would be getting messy that night, he had always been a drinker, especially around these pilots that you considered family. When it was only 8pm and he was already slurring his words and stumbling into furniture and had sunglasses on inside, you caught him in the kitchen as he was pouring himself another screwdriver.

“Hi baby.” You smiled, approaching him, an attempt to slow his drinking down.

He didn’t look up at you as he continued pouring vodka into his cup. “Hi sweetheart.”

You walked over to him and set your hand on his back. “It’s early, why don’t you slow down a little. Maybe have some water or eat something, then pick up where you left off?”

He continued making his drink. “How about…” he set the bottle back on the counter and stumbled away from you “You leave me alone.”

Immediately taken back, your eyebrows furrowed. “What?” Whether he was bored with you or not, that was completely and totally unlike Bradley to say.

“Get off my fuckin’ case.” His sunglasses slid down his nose.

Javy stuck his head in the kitchen. “Rooster, beer pong, come on.” He said. One look at your face and his expression changed, figuring he must have walked in on something. “You good?” he asked. He must have saw your glistening eyes or maybe he heard your pounding heartbeat that you could feel so clearly in your ears. Bradley walked past you and towards Javy. “She’s fine. You know how girls are.” he mumbled, disappearing out of the kitchen. “Ol' ball and chains.” you heard him say down the hallway.

You could not stop your mouth from falling open. The boredom you could take. You could tolerate him not treating you the same way he used to, but where did this sudden resentment come from? You wanted to cry. You wanted to lay on the floor of your kitchen and curl up in a ball and cry because you threw such a nice party for your husband that you loved and the only thing he said to you all night was to leave him alone. But, you can’t cry. At least not right now. You walk back out into the party, faking a smile and finding a spot on your couch to sit.

“Hey party girl.” Jake sat down next to you.

“Hi Jake.” You smiled.

He tilted his head down and quirked his eyebrow. “What's the matter?”

You shook your head in surprise that your fake smile was not in fact working, narrowing your eyes back at him. “Nothing.”

“Come on…” He poked your side, causing you to squirm away from him. “What’s wrong?”

You sighed. “It's nothing. Just- I’ll tell you later.” you had no intentions of actually telling him later, you just wanted him to stop asking, stop seeing directly through you.

Why Jake could read you like an open book? You didn’t know, but he could. It felt like he could read your mind, which you prayed wasn’t true, because then someone other than yourself would know about the pit in your stomach, or between your legs, that you got when you were around him.

You watched Bradley as he played beer pong, shouting and laughing and drinking. It made you smile, seeing him happy. It feels like it was just yesterday when you would’ve been right up there next to him, having fun with him. You wish you knew what changed.

“How’s your new job going?” Jake's deep voice shook you out of your trance.

You looked over at him, slightly taken back. You did not expect a single person at this party to ask you a question about yourself tonight. They were always too busy talking about their latest aircraft or their latest achievements in the field. “It’s good…” your voice was raised over the music and the shouting of the party. “I’m surprised you remembered.”

He looked sarcastically offended. “What? How could I forget?” He wasn’t lying. He wasn’t going to admit that he had been reading online about you, looking a little too long at your headshot on the law firm's website. He read an article about you from a local news site, it was really about one of the lawyers at the law firm that you worked at, but you were mentioned as the paralegal. A small picture of you and the lawyer was fit in between paragraphs, and he would be embarrassed if anyone found out how many times he had looked at it. A feeling of pride swelled in his chest whenever he did.

You looked down at your lap and smiled. He was pressed up against you on the living room couch, you could smell his beer and you could feel his thigh against yours. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked again, his voice merely a rumble beneath the music.

You nodded. “I’m fine.” Looking up at him, he gave you a look. A look he had probably given you in high school chemistry at some point when you answered a question with something that didn’t make sense. His blue eyes burned holes through your soul and you felt like all of your thoughts and secrets were floating through the air, being breathed in by him. “Its just…” you looked over at your husband, who was now chugging a drink out of a red solo cup, Javy and Mickey cheering him on as usual. “Bradley.” You wanted to continue, to tell him everything, but you didn’t want to start crying.

Jake nodded in understanding. It pissed him off that Rooster was doing this to you. You didn’t deserve this. He didn’t know for sure what was going on, but everyone could sense that something had changed with Bradley in the past year. Jake thinks it's because he’s gotten a lot more cocky since their last mission, he thinks he's too good for the dagger squad now. Whatever it was, it was effecting you, and that was crossing a fucking line.

You and Jake stayed like that on the couch for a while longer. You enjoyed his comfort and company, and he didn’t want to leave you here upset. In a desperate attempt to see you laugh, he tried to tell you a story from high school, involving your old best friend. It made you crack a smile, your warm soul glowing through your teeth and nearly blinding him. It made him feel better to see you smile, but he could not shake the anger he was feeling towards Bradley right now. He wished he could get up and walk over to Bradley, grab him by the shoulders, and yell at him that he doesn't even know how good he has it.

As you suspected, Bradley was entirely too drunk by 11. Like, laying on the floor of the bathroom drunk. While you were in the bathroom taking care of Bradley as he threw up, the party guests slowly made their drunk exits. Bob nearly had to drag Phoenix and Payback out your front door, not before wishing Bradley one last happy birthday and thanking you for throwing the party. Everyone else stumbled out to their ubers, leaving you basically alone on the cold bathroom floor, completely sober.

You sat next to Bradley and rubbed his back while he was bent over the toilet. The main goal at this point was to get him upstairs to his bed. Once you presumed he was done, you patted his sweat covered hair. “How about we get you to bed, huh?” He nodded, his eyes closed.

It took some strength to help him up off of the floor, but this wasn’t your first rodeo. You held him up while you stumbled out of the bathroom and into the living room. You weren’t expecting to see Jake, but there he was. He was holding a trash bag and was picking up the cans and solo cups that were littered all over. Startled, you immediately felt bad. “You don’t have to do that Jake, seriously. You can go home, I’ll get it tomorrow.”

He looked up to see you holding Bradley up, his head hanging and barely coherent. “Oh, I don’t mind. It’ll only take me a minute, then I’ll be out of your hair.” You opened your mouth to protest, but he stopped you. “Really. It’s fine. Go put him to bed.” He was stern, almost demanding. You nodded and continued dragging Bradley to your bedroom. The stairs were the hardest part, it felt like you were lifting dead weight. You didn’t want to wrestle with changing his clothes, so you settled for getting his jeans off, leaving him in his shirt and boxers. You got him into bed, and pulled the covers up over him. When tucking him in, it was impossible for your heart to not swell, or maybe ache, in moments like this.

He mumbled something, it didn’t even sound like english. “What’d you say baby?” You reached your hand up to push his hair off of his forehead.

“I love you.” He said, crystal clear. It felt like some type of weight was lifted off of your heart, making your eyes soften. You continued to stroke his hair for a moment, basking in his words.

“I love you too.” You said softly. He didn’t respond, didn’t even flinch.

For a few moments, everything was okay. You and Bradley were married and happy and he loved you. You’re not sure how long you sat there petting his hair. Definitely a few minutes. The sound of Jake putting away the folding table downstairs made you get up. You pulled a trash can next to Bradley and took one last look at him. You weren’t sure if you should smile or cry.

Back downstairs, Jake had made quick work of cleaning everything up. “Jake, you’re seriously a saint.” You breathed out.

“Only for you” he said, pushing a chair back to its original spot. Not taking time to dwell on whatever that statement meant, you helped him move that last few pieces of furniture.

“Okay. Dishes.” He said, walking past you into the kitchen.

“Jake-” You followed after him “You can go home, you don’t have to help, there isn’t even that many-”

“It's okay. I want to help you.” He said, turning to you with a simple smile. You didn’t want to force him out of your house. In fact, you didn’t want him to leave. Music was still playing from the party, but it was much quieter now. It was yacht rock, Bradley’s favorite.

Jake cleaned the dishes, you dried them and put them away. “You know,” He started, rinsing out the bowl he was holding. “I wish I had a girl in my life who threw me birthday parties and carried me around when I was drunk.”

You didn’t look up from the plate you were drying off. "You're telling me one of your many girls isn't dying to do something like this for you?"

He laughed softly, but shook his head. "That's not the same."

"Why not?" You crossed the kitchen to put away a cutting board.

"Because you guys are married. I wish I had a wife. Someone like you."

Maybe it was because something about Jake makes everyone feel vulnerable, but you felt like you could tell him all of your problems, like some type of truth serum was laced in his voice. “I don’t even think Bradley wishes he had that.”

You opened the cabinet to put the plate away while Jake looked at you. “Is everything okay with you two? I don’t want to pry or anything.” But the thing was, he did want to pry. He wanted to know everything about your relationship, he wants to know how often Rooster tells you he loves you, what he says to you when he fucks you, and everything in between.

“Um…” You thought about how honest you should be. “I mean, everythings okay on my end. It’s just… I don’t know what’s going on with Bradley. I think he’s getting bored of me.”

“I don’t think that's possible.” Jake said, handing you a bowl, the water from his fingers dripping onto yours. “That can’t be right. Nobody could ever get bored of you.”

You sighed and put the bowl in the cabinet in front of you. “Then I don’t know what’s going on. He’s more distant, not as talkative, he doesn’t-” You stopped yourself, unable to talk to Jake about your sex life with Bradley. Jake was your friend, but it felt wrong.

“He doesn’t what?” Jake asked. There were no more dishes to be washed, so he leaned his hands against the counter. Looking over at him was a mistake. He had a smug look on his face, the one he always wore. You swear it gives you goosebumps. It was clear that he knew what you were talking about. “He doesn’t fuck you the same anymore?”

Completely unable to break eye contact, you simply nodded. The sound of the sink running was the only thing breaking the silence between the two of you. “Does he fuck you at all?” He spoke slowly, raising his eyebrows slightly.

“Yes. But not as often. And not the same.” You weren’t lying, you weren’t necessarily crossing a line, you weren’t doing anything wrong. That’s what you were telling yourself.

Jake looked down, his hand coming up to rub his jawline, subconsciously drawing your attention to it. Tongue in his cheek, he nodded. “Huh. What a shame.” He looked back up at you, your cheeks hot and most likely getting red. “You don’t deserve that.”

All you could do was nod once again. The silence wasn’t awkward, but it was thick. It was hot and it filled your lungs.

“Does he even make you cum anymore?” His words were heavy. Meticulous but outright impulsive. Like he had wanted to ask you that for so long, but the sentence finally fell out of his mouth without permission.

Your mouth suddenly felt dry, and you tried to swallow. Blood was rushing to your face and your ears and making your heart speed up. This conversation felt wrong. No, it was wrong. But your conscience was muffled by the sound of your heartbeat in your ears and the fluttering in your stomach. “No.” The word rolled off of your tongue and out of your mouth.

He was standing so close to you and you thought that if he wanted to bend you over this counter right now, he could. “That must be…” His hand came up to your arm and his fingers trailed along your skin lightly. “So frustrating.”

Inexplicably, Bradleys face flashed in your mind, laying in your shared bed right above the two of you. You cleared your throat and looked down, grabbing the last plate that needed put away. Detaching his fingers from you, you reached up and put the plate in the cabinet. He looked down at the counter, then turned the sink off. The only sound was coming from the radio.

As if almost on cue to change the subject, as if that last interaction didn’t happen at all, Jake pointed to the speaker. “Oh! Duet time.” Jake smiled.

“What?” You laughed. Then you heard the song “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” playing on the radio. Before you had time to protest, Jake was already across the room, turning the speaker up. When he turned back to you, he started singing Elton John's part. He pointed to you when it got to the girls part, and you laughed. “No, Jake, I can’t.” You spoke over your part.

He furrowed his eyebrows and swayed over to you, he was not the best dancer, but you already knew this. He sang his part and reached out for your hands. You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t keep your laughter down. You gave him your hands and he pulled you into the middle of the kitchen. He danced around with you, and you sang when it got to your part. The goofiest smile sat on his face, it was so much different than his usual smug smile. The two of you sang and danced and spun around in the middle of your kitchen. And you laughed. You really, truly laughed. And that alone made Jake's heart swell.

By the end of the song, one of Jake's arms was around your waist, the other was holding your hand, swaying you to the music. As the song ended, you set your forehead against his shoulder, a way of surrendering. His shirt bunched up under your nose, and you had to fight the urge to turn your head against his neck and breathe in his cologne. His hand on the small of your back was gentle, almost like he was trying to not hurt you.

You lifted your head up and met his eyes. You could feel his heart beating under your hand and the skin on your waist burned under his fingers. “I’m scared that Bradley is cheating on me.” You blurted out before you had time to think about what you were saying.

He exhaled, you felt the air on your face. Miraculously, he shook his head. “I don’t think he would do that.” His face was angled down at yours.

Nodding, you looked down. It made you feel better to hear it from someone else. Jake was still holding onto you, and your hand was still on his chest. “You can go now. Thank you for helping.” You said weakly, not meeting his eyes. You gave his hand a squeeze and ripped yourself away from him.

The next week was completely normal. Bradley would kiss you goodbye without looking at you and then go to work, come home late and complain about being tired, then crash in bed immediately. You had sex once, it was on the couch on the one night he stayed up to watch a show with you. Friday morning was the same. You tried to chat him up while he waited for his coffee to brew, he just grumbled a response. No kiss this time, but that wasn’t totally unheard of. It was this same Friday when something abnormal happened.

I need to talk to you.

It was a text from an unknown number showing up on your apple watch. You read it during a meeting, and spent the rest of the time not listening and trying to figure out who that text could be from. When you finally got the chance to look at your phone, you saw the previous texts you had with this person. A text from over a year ago told you what you wanted to know.

Hey. This is Jake. Rooster is really drunk. Can you come get him?

Completely ignoring your work now, your heart skipped and then dropped at the possibilities of why Jake was texting you.

Okay, is everything alright?

You checked your watch while waiting for a response. A quarter to five, you could leave now if you wanted to.

Can you come by my house? Or can I call you soon?

All of the different possibilities raced through your mind. You couldn’t even think about the possibility of another woman right now. But you focused on the fact that he did not confirm that everything was alright.

I can try and come by later. What is this about?

Okay let me know when you’re coming. It’s Bradley.

You knew it. Fuck, you knew it. Wasting no time, you packed up your things and left your office. The radio was too loud and too much as you made your way home, so you drove in silence. In a rare occurrence, Bradley’s range rover was in the driveway when you got home. Weird, you always got home first.

What happened inside was nothing short of a bible level miracle. The first thing you saw when you opened the door was Bradley sitting on the couch, leaning on his knees like he was thinking. He whipped around at the sound of the door opening and he slapped a smile on his face. He stood up, grabbing a bouquet of flowers that had been laid next to him on the couch.

“Hey baby.” He smiled, coming around the couch to greet you at the door.

“Hi…” You couldn’t help the confusion that echoed in your greeting. He walked up and held the flowers out to you. You smiled, a polite smile, and took them from him. It felt abnormal, ingenuine, or something of that sort when he leaned in and kissed you.

“What’s this for?” You broke away from his lips.

“Oh, nothing.” He waved his hand. “I just wanted to get my wife some flowers.”

You nodded. It felt good, really good, to get this attention from him. You wanted to play along, to pretend like this wasn’t weird, but a little voice in your head was screaming at you. A strange feeling settled in your stomach and left a weird taste in your mouth.

“I was thinking,” He reached out and grabbed your free hand, pulling you over to the couch. “You want me to make my pasta for you, or do you wanna order something in? You choose.”

All you could do was stare at him. It was weird, this was the way you had been hoping and praying he would start treating you again for the last 4 months, but now that it's right in front of you, you couldn’t help but question it. “Pasta.” You said with a simple nod.

By the time he was in the kitchen, 80s music playing while he started to prepare dinner, you still sat frozen in your spot on the couch. Jake's text message kept running through your head, you knew it had to be related to what’s going on. More than anything, you wanted to stay here, go hug Bradley from behind while he cooks, eat dinner with him, and let everything be normal again. But you couldn’t.

“Hey, um I’ll be right back.” You knew you had about 30 minutes before he would be done cooking.

“Where are you going?” he sounded alarmed, like he didn’t want you to step foot out of this house.

The door was already open and you were already halfway out. “I have to um… go get gas.” The door shut behind you, giving no time for him to answer.

It was about a 3 minute drive to Jake’s house, but you were about to make it in 1. The sound of tires screeching notified Jake that you were there. By the time he made it to the door, you were walking up his driveway. The look in his eyes was enough to make you sick. “What happened?” you asked breathlessly.

He said nothing, simply opening the door and motioning for you to come in. “Jake.” You said sternly. “What happened?” You repeated as you entered his house. This was not your first time in Jake's house, but it's the first time in a while. It smells like him but you don’t have time to dwell on that.

“Come sit.” He gestured to his living room. Jake has a dog, a big golden retriever, and she came up to sit by you on the couch. Eyes stinging, stomach churning, you put your face in your hands. “He’s cheating on me, isn’t he?” Your voice was muffled by your hands but Jake heard what you said and it made his jaw clench.

“Listen.” He sat next to you.

“Oh my god.” You breathed out. You knew it. You called it.

He sighed and gently reached for your wrist. He pulled your hand away from your face and into his lap. He held onto your hand and he took a deep breath. “When we were leaving today, I heard someone yelling in the parking lot. I only caught the tail end of it, but it was Bradley and some other girl. He was begging her for something, I don’t know what, and she was crying. She was yelling at him, and she said she didn’t know he had a wife. She kept saying ‘you’re married’ or ‘why didn’t you tell me’ and then she asked him if this was all a lie. He said no, but then he saw me, and he tried to get her to quiet down and get in his car, but she wouldn’t. I texted you right away. Right when I got in my car.”

It all made sense. Every piece of the Bradley Bradshaw puzzle fell into place, and you saw it so clearly. The boredness, the bad sex, the resentment, the getting home late, the flowers, the way he’s trying to make it all up to you now that things fell through with her. She must have threatened to tell you, or left him completely, and now he’s left with just you. He probably feels guilty, and wants to try and make it up to you. The first thought that ran through your mind was how could you have been so stupid. Jake held onto your shaky hands and you cried. You cried harder than you think you ever had. Wordlessly, he pulled you into him, and you cried into his shoulder. The only word you could get out between your sobs was “why.”

So many thoughts ran through your mind. You wanted to know who this girl was. Was she pretty? Was she prettier than you? Was that the problem? Does she know Bradley the way you do? What was so wrong with you that he had to get someone else?

How many times did Bradley fuck her and then come straight home and fuck you? That thought made you pull away from Jake, nearly pushing him off of you. “Y/N’ He reached for you and you stood up. Were there times where he thought about her while he fucked you? Was the sex with her so good that he couldn’t even finish when he was with you?

You shook your head and covered your mouth with the back of your hand. Calmly at first, you turned and walked down his hallway, your speed quickening with every step. Jake's footsteps echoed behind you, he was saying something but you couldn’t decipher it. The door to his bathroom hit the wall from how hard you pushed it open and you fell to your knees. You threw up, Jake appearing in the doorway as you did. Through all of this, you still found time to be embarrassed that he was seeing you like this, but he didn’t seem to mind. He knelt next to you and pulled your hair back away from your face. “It’s okay.” He whispered.

When you were slightly calmed down, you set your forehead on your arm. Jake's large hand was rubbing up and down your back. “What do I do?” You said to the ground.

Jake cleared his throat. He thought the answer was clear, but maybe it wasn’t to you. “Do you want to stay with him?” He asked.

Your eyes squeezed shut at the thought of either option he was presenting. Leave Bradley, or stay with him and always know what he did. “I don’t know.” Your voice was strained.

To Jake, this was a stupid answer. He thought you would say no, he thought that any person in their right mind would say no. “Oh.” His eyebrows furrowed.

Before you made a decision, you knew you needed to talk to Bradley. Maybe this was a misunderstanding, maybe it was a mistake, maybe he’ll do everything in his power to earn your trust back, and then you’d have the old Bradley back. Reaching up to flush the toilet, you stood, Jake following suit.

“I need to go talk to him.” You said, walking past him out of the bathroom. He followed hot on your tail, trying to think of what to say. Once you reached the front door, you turned around to him. “Thank you for telling me.” He said nothing, only nodded. When you hugged him and his arms wrapped around you, you allowed your eyes to fall shut. You were lucky to have him.

“If you don’t want to stay there tonight, I have a guest room.” He said into your hair. He felt you nod underneath him, then let you go.

The car ride home was dead silent. You weren’t crying, you weren’t yelling, you weren’t listening to music. You felt nothing short of dead inside, like every good piece of your life just got pulled out from underneath you. Slowly, you pulled into the driveway. You wanted to sit in the car and not go inside, not find out the truth, but you knew that wasn’t an option. The reflection looking back at you in your rearview mirror did not look like you. It was scary. You wiped under your eyes and your mouth, then forced yourself to open the car door. Your legs were moving, but it was completely muscle memory, and you were surprised you hadn’t fallen to the ground yet.

When you opened the front door, you tried to act normal. Music played through the house and you heard dishes clinking in the kitchen. Kicking your shoes off, you couldn’t ignore the two dogs that ran up to you. It made you want to cry even harder, the way they climbed on you when you bent down to pet them, like they could sense something was wrong. “Hey baby, you’re back.” You looked up and saw Bradley in the doorway to your kitchen. He was smiling, but for some reason, you almost felt better when you saw him. When you looked at him, you were reminded of the man he was on your wedding day, he gave you that same smile at the altar. It was the same smile you fell in love with, the same smile he had when he was merely just your neighbor when you were 23. “What’s wrong?” He asked immediately, his smile faltered slightly.

Looking back down at the dogs, you couldn't bring yourself to fight with him right now. You couldn’t let yourself lose him. “Nothing.” You shook your head. “I just had a hard day at work.”

“Oh, honey.” He walked towards you. This was by far the most attention you had gotten from him in months, and it was addicting. It is how you always wanted things to be, how you hoped and prayed they would end up. He pulled you into a hug and you could have melted into his arms. He hugged you, really hugged you. “I’m sorry you had a hard day.” He pulled back and brought his hands to your face. For some reason, for some weird, strange reason, you smiled. The feeling of his thumbs on your cheeks absolutely flooded your mind with memories, and it was enough to make you want to forget that he ever did anything wrong. Sure, there was a pit in your stomach and you were still unbelievably sad, but if this is how he’s gonna act from now on, you don’t want to leave.

He kissed you and you were suddenly hyper aware that you had just thrown up less than 15 minutes ago. He leaned his forehead against yours and you were positive that he could feel the heat from your cheeks on his palms. “Dinners gonna be ready in like 5 minutes, okay?”

You nodded and he let you go. You turned towards the stairs and he was heading back to the kitchen, and he slapped your ass as you walked away, and you can’t believe it, but you laughed. When you got upstairs, you went into your bathroom and leaned against the counter. The shame that you felt for not standing up for yourself was intense. It weighed your heart down and made you dizzy. You almost couldn’t look at yourself in the mirror. You had to confront him about this, right? He would apologize and you would accept it and everything would be okay. But you couldn’t just not say anything. You met your own bloodshot eyes in the mirror. Aware of the taste of throw up in your mouth, you reached for your toothbrush.

That night, you ate Bradleys criminally delicious pasta and the two of you sat at the table for almost an hour just talking after you were done eating. After that, he suggested you start that show that the two of you had been meaning to watch. He turned the fireplace on and cuddled up with you on the couch, your dogs occasionally trying to make their way in between the two of you. As the night went on, you thought about what he had done less and less. You didn’t let yourself think about whether he just fucked that girl or if they loved each other. You tried your hardest not to dwell on the fact that all of this attention was just his guilt manifesting into real life.

When the episode ended, the two of you sat still in your spots on the couch. His hand was in your hair, and your arms were wrapped around him. You wondered what he was thinking about. You hoped it wasn’t her.

He grabbed your chin and turned your face towards him. “I love you, you know that right?” He asked, his voice was low and gravely. You sighed, looking in his eyes. He didn’t deserve this, he didn’t deserve the love you were desperate to give him. “Yes.” you replied. “I love you too.”

He kissed you slowly. It reminded you of the way he used to kiss you when the two of you still lived in neighboring apartments. It was so passionate, you could feel it. You kissed him right back, basking in the feeling of being wanted by him. When he slipped his tongue in your mouth and you hiked your leg up higher against him, he broke away with a smile. He lifted you up off the couch and you squealed. “Bradley!” You laughed “Put me down.”

He laughed with you and carried you up the steps. Halfway to your bedroom, you gave up trying to squirm out of his strong grip. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he held you tighter. Once the door to your room was swung open and you were tossed onto the bed, Bradley crawled on top of you. He kissed you again, but it was a different type of kiss. It was rougher, insatiable. The kind that made your mind foggy and your core heat up. His body was hot on top of yours and it felt so good but it was so hard to enjoy. He wasted no time pulling your sweatpants down, sitting up to pull them over your feet and throw them off the bed. He pulled his shirt over his head and, no matter how hurt you were or how mad you were at him, you could not deny how fucking sexy he is. His skin was tan and he looked like he was glowing from the hallway light reflecting off of him. His rough hands wrapped around your thighs as he adjusted himself in front of you. This undoubtedly made you so excited. Your heartbeat sped up as his mustache scratched your thighs. He nipped at the skin on your leg, making you squirm. He looked absolutely gorgeous in between your legs. He looked up at you, his eyes dark and hooded. “You want me to be gentle or rough?”

As much as you wanted him rough, your heart needed him gentle. “Can you be gentle?”

“Of course I can, sweetheart.” He kissed the inside of your leg again. And gentle he was. He licked a slow stripe up your pussy, taking his sweet time. You couldn’t look away, and you had such a perfect view propped up on your elbows. When he started working on your clit, you had to drop your head back. He knew your body like the back of his hand. He knew what you liked, what you hated, how to make you squirm, how to make you cum in less than a minute. His dark curls were sticking to his forehead as he started to sweat. The grip on your thighs tightened, like he was pulling you closer. He was so far buried inside your pussy that his nose was going to be covered in your slick by the time he was done. He was stalling, you could tell. This was maybe his millionth time doing this, and he was giving you just enough to keep you on the edge, and he knew it. Even worse, he liked it.

“Please, Bradley.” You whined, letting your arms drop to your sides and falling onto your back. He shook his head into you, not relenting in the way he was licking you up, almost like he couldn't stop. You tried to grind into him, but his arms kept you in place.

It was almost like he could not get enough of you, which would honestly make sense. You genuinely couldn't pinpoint the last time he had done this for you. Well, done it and actually tried.

One of his hands unwrapped from around your thigh, coming to push his fingers inside you. “Oh my god.” You groaned. Now that his mouth had full focus on your clit, and his fingers were stuck inside of you curling upward, both of you knew you were close. “Bradley, oh my fucking god.”

His pace was steadily increasing, making your back arch completely off of the mattress. You could feel him smiling against you. Your orgasm all but crept up on you, starting off slow and then completely taking over your whole body. Eyes closed, your whole body pulsed, falling over you like warm water.

Inexplicably, at your highest peak, Jake Seresin wearing his dress whites came into your mind. And it made you cum harder. When you came to and realized what the fuck you just did, your eyes popped open and your face heated up. You couldn’t help but slap your hand over your mouth. You just came from your husband eating you out, and you thought about his best friend.

Bradley crawled back on top of you and you pulled your hand away from your mouth. He said nothing and kissed you. You could feel him panting and his chest heaving, yours was too. “Was that good?” He said an inch from your mouth, giving you a soft peck after.

“Mhmmm” Was all you could get out.

“Do you want more?” He said in between soft kisses. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

All you could do was nod.

He fucked you slow and sweet. He kissed you a million times and told you he loved you even more than that. Afterwards, he fell asleep with his head on your chest and your hands in his hair. His head moved up and down with your breathing, like the sun set and rose for you. His arms were wrapped around your torso, so you could barely reach your phone when you heard it buzz. Straining, you picked it up off your nightstand.

How’d it go?

The text made your stomach drop and subsequently knocked you back into reality. You can’t go on pretending like everything's okay because Jake knew. That girl is still out there, she knows. The man with his head on your chest knew. God knows who else knows about it. You turned your phone off and closed your eyes.

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lucidicer · 11 months ago

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OCS AS OBSCURE ASSOCIATIONS: TANG DUYI

thank you @orphyd @hell-dusk @pxltown @wldestluv-rs @mattodore @rottengurlz for the tag! <3 one million dollar to each of you

ANIMAL: silver fox / wolf

COLORS: orange / brown / blue

MONTH: november

SONG: 818 by lexie liu

NUMBER: 13

PLANTS: venus fly trap

SMELLS: gasoline

GEMSTONE: almandine

TIME OF DAY: 4 am

SEASON: winter

WEATHER: thunder but without the lightning and a cold breeze

SKY: blue hour

PLACES: underground subway stations

FOOD: any food someone drops on the floor and yells "5 second rule" about before eating it

DRINKS: coffee

SEASONINGS: black pepper

ELEMENT: air / lightning

ASTROLOGICAL SIGNS: (haven't got this set in stone yet soooooo)

MAGICAL POWER: telepathy

WEAPONS: knife / fists

SOCIAL MEDIA: myspace

MAKEUP PRODUCT: fake blood

CANDY: liquorice

METHOD OF LONG DISTANCE TRAVEL: subway except you fall asleep and are woken up by the driver cause you reached the end of the line / walking and using the railway tracks as your directions

ART STYLE: messy smudged charcoal

FEAR: mirrors / god

MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE: raijū

PIECE OF STATIONERY: sharpener

THREE EMOJIS: 🎱🕷️🔪

CELESTIAL BODY: 103P hartley

from what i can see pretty much everyone's been tagged so....

#he looks so babyfaced in this pic idk what thats abt #also yes weather no lighting but element is lighting it makes sense in my brain #*tang #ts4 #ts4 edit

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scarabsinthestardust · 2 days ago

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Tender // Ch. 4

MASTERLIST

word count: 2200+

CHAPTER WARNINGS: language; mentions of drinking/alcoholism; arguing/one-sided arguments; depression; anxiety; unspecified undiagnosed mental illness; tiny little spoiler for Better in the Morning, but nothing that will be a shock to readers that are caught up on it

The trouble with things going smoothly is that one tends to get complacent. They get comfortable and let their guard down. They make mistakes and people suffer for it, mostly the ones they never wanted to hurt in the first place.

Josh and I have been going strong for the last six months. We’ve not so much as bickered since the first argument. He’s somehow convinced me, on some uncertain level, that maybe I do deserve this happiness. The fear is still there, of course, but Josh has found a way to quell it, and suddenly I don’t feel like I’m drowning. He’s my spark, my ever-burning flame, and I think maybe I might be able to keep it from going out.

I never wanted kids, and that hasn’t changed, but watching Josh light up around them only increases my love for him. It’s no different with his new niece. He’s been fawning over Kya and Jake’s baby nonstop since she was born and has made it his life’s mission to ensure he’s the ‘favorite uncle.’ He talks about her constantly, and I’m surprisingly not put off by his incessant chattering these days. But I suppose all good things must come to an end.

We’re in his kitchen, cleaning up after dinner. Although I still have my own place, I find myself spending most of my time at his house. He’s talking a million miles a minute about his day, and his most recent visit to Kya’s. He tells me practically everything the baby did, which isn’t much considering she’s, well, a baby, but Josh is excited, so I let him have his moment. Then he says something that makes my heart stop.

“Jake said they’re probably gonna go to West Virginia soon to visit… uh, whoever you guys know up there. I thought maybe we could tag along, make it a whole family trip.”

“No. I’m not going to West Virginia.” Bile is rising in my throat at the thought, and I’m infuriated he would even suggest it.

He reaches out to touch my arm. “I mean, I’d be there with you the whole time. I think it’d be-“

“I said no.”

“I want to see where you grew up, and whatever happened out there, we can-“

The last remaining calm in me dissipates, and I snatch my arm from him, slamming my fist on the marble countertop so hard it shoots pain up to my elbow. “Drop it!”

He blinks at me in shock, and I pretend I don’t notice the way he flinches. I’ve never raised my voice like this toward him, but now the dam has broken, and I can’t stop. “Why can’t you ever just fucking leave shit alone?”

“Finn…” His voice is so small and soft that I almost feel bad. Almost.

“Stop. Fucking. Talking. For once in your life shut the fuck up. I don’t understand why you always have to keep pushing and pushing for shit you know nothing about! Maybe no one’s ever told you no, you’re so used to getting everything you want, but it doesn’t fucking work like that. And you don’t even understand one piece of what you’re prying for. So, stop acting like a spoiled fucking brat, and quit digging!”

I know he doesn’t deserve any of what I said, but the damage is already done. His eyes are filling with tears, and he takes a step away from me. His jaw tenses and he nods, refusing to look me in the eyes. “Fine. Okay.” He doesn’t argue, the first indication that I’ve truly hurt him, only turns away and disappears down the hallway.

My heart’s racing, my skin feels like it’s on fire, and I’m squeezing my fist so tightly my nails are digging into my palm. The house is too small; the walls might be closing in on me. I don’t hear anything, and Josh doesn’t come back out. I should go apologize, but it seems like such a daunting task that will only result in more confrontation, and will inevitably lead me to hurt him more. That’s the last thing I want to do, so I grab my keys, slam the door on the way out, get in my car, and drive.

I don’t have a destination, I just need to get away. It’s already dark; the bright oncoming headlights in the opposite lane make my eyes water. Or is it the guilt and anxiety? I very much wish I could go back and do things differently. Maybe it’s not too late to salvage my relationship with him, but I can’t return to him like this, when my mind is still mottled with rage. I don’t trust what I might do. Instead, I’ll do what I do best – run.

JOSHUA

When Josh told his twin he was coming over, Jake wasn’t expecting to find him with bloodshot eyes and splotchy, tear-stained cheeks. “Shit, what’s wrong?” Jake ushered him inside and directed his attention to Josh, concern painting his features.

“Finn and I got into a fight. And he didn’t come home. It’s been 24 hours. His phone’s going straight to voicemail. I checked his place, and I don’t think he’s been there either. What if something happened to him? What if-“

“Josh, calm down. I’m sure he’s fine.” Jake coaxed his brother to sit down on the couch. He gently reminded Josh to keep his voice down, so he doesn’t wake the baby. “Did he say anything before he left?”

“No. No, we argued… he was so pissed off so I tried to give him some space and he just left.” Josh didn’t want to elaborate on the details; he knew how Jake would react to Finn being the primary aggressor, and he didn’t want to make his boyfriend out to be the bad guy. He blamed himself for it anyways. “I don’t know what to do. I’m worried about him. And I checked the weather, there’s another storm coming through. What if he gets stuck out in it somewhere?”

Jake shook his head. “What are you talking about? He’s not a fucking dog, Josh. It’s just rain. He’ll figure it out.”

“No, he’s right to be worried.” Kya’s voice came from behind them; they didn’t hear her come around the corner until she spoke. “He’s always been terrified of storms. I don’t know why. He used to hide in the closet when we were kids, until it passed. But that also means he watches the weather like a hawk. I’m sure he’s found somewhere safe to hunker down until it passes.”

“Is this normal for him, to just disappear?” Josh’s eyes pleaded with her for some kind of reassurance.

Kya shrugged sadly. “He’s always been a little ghost-y, I guess. But I didn’t think he would just drop off without telling you. What… was it that bad of a fight?”

Josh swallowed as he fought back tears. “It… no, it was stupid. And I’m the one that upset him. I started it.”

Kya watched him carefully; there was something he wasn’t telling them. But she didn’t call him out on it. She figured if it was something serious, he would have said something. “He’ll come around,” she said. “He doesn’t handle confrontation well. I’m sure he just needs some time to cool off and clear his head. He’ll come back.” She didn’t let on that she was suddenly doubting her own words.

When Josh eventually returned home, dejected and depressed, he curled up on the couch under a soft throw blanket. He held his phone close and made sure the volume was turned up in case Finn did call him back. He wanted to stay up, wanted to wait just a little longer, but exhaustion won out and he soon drifted to sleep.

It’s barely dawn by the time I make it back to Josh’s house. His car is here. He’s probably asleep, which makes me falter. I don’t want to wake him up, but I know the longer I stay away, the harder it will be. I’ve rehearsed a hundred different conversations in my head, like memorizing a script that will change based on how Josh responds to each line. I’m honestly quite terrified. I considered just staying gone, but I know Josh well enough to know that kind of uncertainty would only hurt him more. If I’ve lost him, at least we’ll both know it.

I ring the doorbell. I know where he keeps the spare key, but I don’t feel like I’ve earned the right to use it. I don’t realize I’m holding my breath as I wait for a response. I’m surprised at how quickly he comes to the door, and I’m even more shocked when he throws his arms around me so hard I almost stumble backwards.

“Where the hell have you been? I was so worried about you. I thought… I thought something happened to you.”

He was worried? About me? I coax him inside so I can shut the door. I’m not keen on providing intel on our private lives to the neighbors. He sniffs and rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. When I finally get a good look at his face, my chest aches. He hasn’t slept; he looks exhausted. I know he’s been crying, and I hate that it’s my fault.

He allows me to lead him to the couch, but instead of sitting with him, I kneel on the floor in front of him. “I’m so sorry.” It seems like a good place to start. “I’m sorry for how I treated you. You didn’t deserve that, Josh. I lost my cool, that’s all on me. And… I understand if you want me to leave, if you don’t want this anymore.”

“Where did you go?” he asks quietly.

“Uh, Wichita.”

“Kansas? What the hell is in Kansas? Or… who?”

I’m mildly taken aback at the implication, but if the roles were reversed, I’d be thinking the same thing. “I promise you, it’s nothing like that. I didn’t plan to go to Wichita, I just ended up there. I…” I hesitate to tell him the whole truth. Hiding it is easier, and he may not ever forgive me. But maybe he’ll pity me instead, and that’s almost worse. “I messed up, though.” I pull my AA chip from my pocket and place it in his hand, careful to avoid his eyes. “I’m sorry. I know you’re probably disappointed in me. I found a meeting before I came back, but if you don’t want-“

“I don’t want you to leave.” He looks at the chip in his palm before holding it back out to me. “This doesn’t define you, Finn. You’re allowed to make mistakes.”

Mistakes get people killed. “You deserve better,” I admit. I’m giving him an out, an escape route, and the small piece of me that is still decent wants him to take it. I slip the chip back into my pocket, although it feels dirty now, contaminated somehow.

He’s staring down at the carpet, and I can see the wheels turning. “You weren’t drunk, though.”

“I got drunk. I went to a bar, and-“

“No, I mean before you left. You weren’t drunk when you screamed at me.”

“No,” I whisper. “I… I can’t go back there, Josh. You trying to convince me to, it… it triggered something in me, I guess. I can’t stand feeling like I don’t have a choice.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know you didn’t. I’m working on it, though. And I know it’s a lot to ask, but I promise if you give me another chance, I’ll do better. It won’t happen again.”

He stays quiet for a moment, sniffling as he considers my words. I’m still not confident that he’ll forgive me, and I brace myself for the worst. But instead, he leans forward, resting his arms on my shoulders and pulling me to him. “I’m sorry. Just please don’t leave. Let me help you,” he practically begs.

I give into his pleas, and we stay like this until he asks me to come to bed with him. “Will you just lay with me?” I hold him then, neither of us saying a word. His fingers absentmindedly trace my skin, just under the hem of my shirt. They trail along the small scar just above my right hip and I tense up involuntarily. The little patch of marred flesh is just a reminder, another in a long line of stories I will never tell him. He’s learned to quit asking about it, now.

I don’t think I really sleep. Josh eventually drifts off and I’m left alone. I don’t want to admit it, but my gut is telling me this is wrong. Something in me is screaming to get away from here, from him. Except it’s not because I’m in any kind of danger. It’s because I know he is. No matter how many promises I make, how many times he forgives me for the things I’ve done, or how much he pleads for me to stay with him, I will inevitably hurt him over and over again. There is no doubt in my mind that everything he’s tried to build in himself, I will bring it all crashing to the ground. I do love him, more than I’ve loved anyone this way. Some say if you love something, you need to let it go. But my love for him, and my own selfishness, is why I know I never will. I’ll hold onto him for as long as I can, even if all I do is drag him down with me to the pits of wherever the hell I end up.

///

@hollyco @fleetingjake @musicislove3389 @hailthegodsong @josh-iamyour-mama @katuschka

TAGLIST

Let me know if you want to be added!

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf #gvf fanfiction #jake gvf #jake kiszka #josh gvf #josh kiszka

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avanatural · 2 years ago

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Mind Games

Part 5

Series summary: Set in 1984. It’s that time of the year – the supes are having the time of their lives at the Herogasm festival. Soldier Boy seems to have taken a special interest in Y/N, a fellow superhero.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x female Reader

Category: Angst, little bit of fluff, 18+

Word count: 4.2k

Chapter warnings: Mentions of disordered eating and mental abuse, sexual harassment, heavy drinking, mentions of drugs, mentions of masturbation

A/N: Welcome to part 5! There’s tension between Y/N and Ben, but who knows? They might actually warm up to each other some more 😉 I hope you enjoy. Wanna be added to my Soldier Boy tag list? Send me an ask ❤️

Part 4 | Series Masterlist | Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

“What’s got your panties in a twist?”

“I’m fine,” I grunted out an obvious lie and pulled my white leather dress down my thighs, adjusting my seated position.

“Hm-mh…,” he hummed, taunting me with that guttural voice, “Are you jealous? That your sister beat you to finding out my name?” The grin that widened across his mouth begged me to slap it off his face.

Soldier Boy… Excuse me, Ben and I were sitting under obnoxiously bright lights, on a hard expensive couch, cameras ready to roll, waiting for the talk show host to join us in the studio.

“Look, I’m tired,” I mumbled, blinking my heavy eyelids and meeting his pompous gaze, “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Christ on a cross,” he breathed, leaning back a little to get a closer look at me was a whole. His apple green eyes were roaming my face through the slits of his helmet. “Where’s the fucking fire in your eyes?”

Instead of replying, I fled into my own head. Unfortunately, my nerves were soaring and I couldn’t manipulate myself into a calmer state of mind. I didn’t know if I could credibly pretend to be over the moon about Payback Rising. But I had to force myself to. The future of my bank account depended on this. My sister’s future depended on this.

“Seriously, though,” Ben suddenly spoke up again, startling my tense body and my racing mind, “Lily’s a good kid. You’re doin’ a nice job.”

My eyebrows lowered as I examined his face, searching for any hint, any sign that he might be messing with me. Imagine my surprise when realization finally hit me – he wasn’t playing. It was a truthful fucking compliment. I opened my mouth, about to thank him, but I didn’t get to.

The host dropped down on the armchair opposite us, holding a bunch of note cards in her hands, instantly receiving a touch-up from the make-up artist. Her blazer and pencil skirt made me feel underdressed. Though I had to admit, her shoulder pads were massive enough to rival Ben’s armor.

Well, here goes nothing, I thought to myself. A few dreadful heartbeats and quick “hellos” later, the show’s quirky introduction melody rang through the studio, sealing my fate. There was no way out now.

“Welcome to Power Hour! I’m your host, Amanda Donaldson. And today, I brought lots of juicy news for you to enjoy! First and foremost, I have two very special guests here with me. They’re gorgeous, they’re talented, and they’re superheroes! Vought legend Soldier Boy and rising underdog Trouble!”

A round of pre-taped applause supported Amanda’s upbeat announcement. I wanted to roll my eyes so badly that I had to bite my tongue to refrain from doing so.

Ben, on the contrary, wore a smirk on his face that ranged from one ear to the other. “It’s good to be back!”, he exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

“It’s good to see you again! And you brought a new guest to our show!” Amanda turned to me with her million-dollar smile. “Trouble, thank you for being here!”

“Thank you for having me,” I said, nodding politely at the host.

“You just landed your very first role in a Vought movie! How exciting is that?”

“Oh, it’s incredible!”, I replied, trying my best to keep up with the two professional grinners, “I still can’t believe I got to work with the greatest superheroes in the world. It baffles me, truly.”

Amanda turned to Ben. “Soldier Boy, what has it been like working with Trouble?”

“Oh, we had a blast! This one right ‘ere…” He pointed his thumb at me and leaned forward in the host’s direction, hypnotizing her with his sparkling green gems. “Made the rest of us look like amateurs. Let me tell ya. She only needed one take for her scene.” He leaned back again and lifted his pointer finger. “One take!”

My shoulder twitched against his as I laughed for the camera. “Only because you made it easy for me.”

Ben looked at me when I addressed him, a cocky smile on his face, licking his lips.

“I felt so comfortable on set that nothing could go wrong, really,” I added, not missing the way my colleague was basking in my compliments.

“What can I say? You’re a natural,” he said, planting his hand on top of mine, which was resting in my lap. His voice dropped, the tone so pleasant yet menacing that his next words froze the blood in my veins. “Made for the game.”

I paused, not knowing what to say. His hand tightened around mine, trapping me in his hold. His eyes were like bear traps, snapping me into place.

“Wow, you two have chemistry!”, Amanda barged into our staring match like a hound smelling blood, “Which is not surprising, I mean, aside from your homage to Trouble on Solid Gold,” she spoke, lifting her hand in Ben’s direction, “We’ve been granted a behind-the-scenes peek of the Payback Rising set. And it looks intimate.”

The host pulled out a copy of the picture of Ben and I that had made it into the newspapers. Of course, she was gonna do that. The photograph of him carrying me was accompanied by a cheering track. “Can the two of you walk us through what’s going on here?”, she asked.

“Ha-ha, I see what you’re doin’ there, Mandy.” Ben let go of my hand to point at Amanda and gave her a charming wink. “You never fail to tickle information out of me, sweetheart.”

She giggled, trapped like a little rat in his mace. “You can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“I’m afraid we can’t say anything until the movie is released,” I chimed in, shrugging my shoulders as apologetically as possible.

“So, you can’t give us anything official,” Amanda acknowledged, “But maybe we can discuss something a little more… private.”

“Like what?”, I asked, trying to keep the smile on my face even though every fiber of my being was telling me to get out of there.

“Well, your dating lives are very much a topic of public interest. People are speculating around the clock. You got yourselves a ‘will-they-won’t they’-type situation. Your fans would love to see you two together! Is there any chance of that happening?”

“Oh, Amanda, don’t put us on the spot like that,” Ben said with an angelic, exaggerated chuckle, “You’re gonna make us blush.”

“We’re just friends,” I stated, cutting through his innocent act.

“Close friends,” Ben corrected me with a pointed look to my face.

“You sure it’s not more than that?”, Amanda questioned, eyeing us with a hawk’s unwavering focus.

“I guess we’ll see,” Soldier Boy spoke, directing a playful wink at the camera that was surely going to keep the audience on their toes.

A week later

Tossing my head back, I emptied the shot glass into my throat. Lily was at a sleepover with her friends, and I desperately needed some time to unwind. The talk show had been a huge success. The only place I could unwind now without being fawned over was the underground supe bar.

But down there, things weren’t exactly calm, either. The air was flooded with tension. I slammed my empty glass onto the bar, my gaze wandering back to the two supes I’d been watching – an older guy and a young woman.

The guy was a shapeshifter, borrowing the meatsuit of a middle-aged, successful, well-groomed businessman. He was getting a little too comfortable with the young woman. Palm on her hip, wearing a dirty smirk on his face while the girl wore a frown on her own. One wrong move, and I was gonna turn his brain to mush.

He leered at the young woman, flashing his thousand-watt smile as he tried to claim her mouth. She leaned back on instinct, trying to escape his grip, and I decided I’d seen enough.

My eyes lit up, glowing with anger, as I took over the shifter’s head. The confused expression on his face was priceless. He had zero clue what was going on. Game on, you prick. He turned crimson when I replayed his most embarrassing secret not just in his mind, but also in the minds of his drinking buddies. Apparently, he’d peed himself during a sexual encounter at Herogasm. My tongue peeked through my teeth as I chuckled to myself.

The shapeshifter put his fingers on his temples, wondering where the banging headache and the intense memories were suddenly coming from, and why his friends were laughing at him.

The young woman stepped away from the shifter and met my gaze. I could see a look of relief and recognition pass her pale face. She nodded at me and hurried to the exit.

Unfortunately for us women, male supes behaved like that a lot. They were a lot more powerful than your average Joe, and too many of them loved to show it.

“You!”

I turned my head to see the shapeshifter staring at me, red-faced, the veins in his neck about to burst with fury. “Hm?”

“You think this is funny?”, he barked, making himself taller by straightening his back.

I shrugged my shoulders. In situations like that, it was best to remain calm. “I do, yeah.” Oh, and to provoke. You couldn’t pick a fight and walk away. With supes, the only way out was through.

“You little cunt! I’m gonna fucking end you-“

I could feel the muscles bulge in my jaw. “I see you treat a woman like that again, you’re dead,” I threatened, “You understand?”

“Oh, someone’s about to be dead.” The shapeshifter started rolling up his sleeves. His nostrils were flaring along with his angry breaths.

“We got a fucking problem here?”, a gruff voice entered our little argument. His heavy footsteps echoed through the bar, silencing those around him. His wide shoulders entered my line of vision, filling my sight completely as he stepped in front of me – Soldier Boy.

Ben radiated authority, despite only wearing half his suit. He’d lost the protective gear on his head and legs, as well as his shield and his other weapons. But the angered look on his face showed he meant business.

“N-no,” the shapeshifter started to ramble, “No problem here. All good.” He gulped, his Adam’s apple dancing with worry.

Ben aimed a glove-clad finger at the shapeshifter. “I see you gettin’ outta line again-“

“I won’t. I won’t, Soldier Boy,” the shifter assured him. After some meaningless sucking up, he left, and the women in the bar could breathe again. Everyone went on about their business as though nothing had happened.

Ben claimed the stool next to me, pushing out a groan of comfort as he got settled at the bar. “Didn’t expect to see Ms. Goody-Two-Shoes in this fucking dump.”

I blinked at him with a bewildered expression. “Goody-Two-Shoes?”

“You’re called Trouble. And I’m wonderin’ why.” He shrugged his massive shoulders, side-eying me with hooded eyes. “One would think you’re more intimidating. A lot fucking worse than… this.”

“Excuse me?”

“You could’ve killed the guy.” Ben tilted his head toward the exit of the bar. “Would probably have been the better choice ‘cause scum like that tends to retaliate. If you want respect, you gotta live up to your reputation. Fuck shit up.” His face was slightly flushed, and his brick wall of a body moved more fluidly than usual, making me wonder how long he’d already been drinking. “But instead, you’re a caregiver who saves damsels in distress and makes assholes blush,” he cackled, flashing his pearly whites.

“You know what…” I paused, trying to find my defiance, but it evaporated with my next sharp exhale. My heart was yearning for some peace of mind. Just for one night. “I really don’t have it in me to bicker tonight.” I waved at the bartender to pour me another shot.

Ben raised his giant hand along with mine, signaling for the bartender to make that two. “Wow. A woman keeping quiet,” he praised sourly, “I’ll drink to that.”

“Wow. A man being sexist. How original,” I shot back. So much for peace. Ben could lure my fire back to the surface like no one else. I had to give him that.

Instead of lashing out at me, he just cocked his head and chuckled. He seemed oddly satisfied with my response. “Atta girl.”

“Ben… You can leave,” I huffed, eyeing him over my shoulder after pushing my key into the lock. “You didn’t have to walk me all the way home.”

“Are you kiddin’ me? That’s what a man does.” When I stepped into my apartment, Ben squeezed himself through the narrow doorframe and passed me in the tight hallway. It only took him a few steps to take in the entire view of my small living space. He let out a low whistle as he looked around. “This is where you live?”

“Yeah.” I shut the door and joined him in the living room. With sarcasm running through my veins, I raised my arms and feigned a smile. “Welcome to my humble home.”

“This is…” His freckle-stained nose wrinkled. “A fucking disgrace.”

“That’s one way to put it.” When his disappointed frown turned to face me, I snapped, “I’m working on it, okay?”

He nodded his head at Lily’s bedroom. “Your sister home?” The door war closed, so I had no clue how the hell he could tell it was her room.

“No.” I shook my head, reaching for the whiskey bottle on one of the bookshelves in the living room. “I wouldn’t leave her by herself.”

He scoffed and planted himself in front of the window, staring down at the colorless yard of the apartment complex. “What is she, three years old? Nobody gave a shit about my whereabouts when I was her age.”

My brows knitted. “Are we really gonna talk about how we grew up?”, I asked with a joking undertone, but I was secretly dreading that kind of conversation.

Slowly, Ben turned around on his bowed legs, palms on his hips. Under the pale lights, he looked like a gigantic replica of the little superhero action figures in Lily’s room. “Oh, we’re gonna need more booze for that,” he claimed, pointing at the liquor bottle in my grasp, batting those damn eyelashes at me.

I sized him up, wondering if it was a good idea to have fucking Soldier Boy as my guest. But I was seriously starting to doubt that he was ever going to kill me. Somehow, I doubted he even had it in him.

“Alright, fine,” I sighed out, placing the bottle on the couch table with a dull clinking sound, “Make yourself at home.”

Ben licked his lips, pleased by my invitation. He sat down on the worn couch, grinding his jaw when he sank lower than he expected to. “You need to fucking move,” he groused like a spoiled child.

I placed a glass in front of each of us, then let myself drop onto the cushion next to him. “Do you insult the homes of all the people you visit?”

“Ha. No, I, uh…,” he trailed off, looking lost in thought, and then suddenly cleared his throat. “Never mind.” He reached out his hand and wiggled his thick fingers, silently telling me to turn over the booze.

With my heart sinking in an odd way, I concluded that not a lot of people invited him to their homes and gave him the bottle. Maybe he needed the alcohol even more than I did. I waited for my turn while he poured himself a generous shot.

“You ever see the Soldier Boy story?”, Ben asked, handing me the bottle, and then proceeded to swallow his shot whole.

“Are you kidding me?”, I retorted, filling my own tumbler, “They show that movie in schools to this day. A poor child from South Philly finds out he’s got magical powers to match his heart of gold.” With an exaggerated movement, I put my right hand over my heart while my left hand lifted my shot glass to my lips.

“Yeah, well… It’s a load of bullshit,” he grumbled and spilled a fresh amber pool of liquor into his tumbler.

“You mean you don’t have a heart of gold?”, I asked, feigning shock.

The way he narrowed his eyes at me could have scared me, but it only made me smile. And I could have sworn that his mouth twitched, too.

“My father owned half the steel mills in the state,” he revealed, “I never lived in the streets, was never poor. Vought made all that shit up.”

I nodded to myself. The man that I’d admired growing up was nothing more than a false myth. A bedtime story. Instead of being a true hero, he really was the spoiled child he came off as. “Well… I can’t say that I’m surprised,” I muttered, “It seems all Vought cares about is profit.”

“They’re gonna do the same fucking thing to you,” he said, his bitter face meeting mine, “They’re probably gonna invent some kind of… sob story to raise your popularity. If our love story ain’t enough, that is. You should up your fucking game on that one.”

“Love story, huh?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t see that one comin’,” he taunted, his lips curling into a half-grin. “To be popular, you need to either be loved or hated. Vought is starting to consider the American Sweetheart narrative for you. That’s what The Legend’s hopin’ for, anyway.”

I chewed on my lower lip, staring at nothing in particular, mind draped in floating thoughts. Maybe there was someone to support me, to root for me, after all. Maybe I could really pull it all off somehow. Become one of the greater supes. And it was fucking Soldier Boy, of all people, who was pushing me over the edge toward ambition.

“If the Soldier Boy story is nothing but a bunch of lies… Then what’s your real story?”, I inquired.

He huffed and downed yet another shot. With a hiss, he slammed the tumbler onto the couch table. “My father sent me to boarding school. Bein’ away from home was… the best damn time of my life.” His body froze like a perfect painting, emerald eyes turning glassy. It was only after he cleared his throat that he continued, “I got kicked out of boarding school ‘cause I was a fuck-up. So… Back home, it was. Father said I was a disappointment. That I didn’t deserve to carry his name.” Another pause. Another far-away look in his face. “That didn’t change when I became a fucking superhero.”

I tried catching his eye, but failed due to the pain he was trying to hide away. “How did you become a supe?”

“Went to my father’s golf buddies in the war department,” he scoffed, “Got injected with some blue substance, and voilà, Soldier Boy was born. I became the strongest fucking man alive, and… it still wasn’t good enough for my old man.” When he finally looked up, he’d blinked away the salty shimmers, but there were still golden specks of sorrow in those green orbs. “I hate to break it to you, princess, but none of us are born superheroes.”

“I know.”

He arched his eyebrows at my reply.

“My dad, he…” My chest expanded and shrunk as I recalled how my father had told me about the drug I’d been given as a baby. “He told me about Compound V. When I was eleven, I think.”

“Your old man still around?”

“No.”

“Was he good to you?”, Ben wondered casually, but the way he studied my face told me he was indeed curious.

“Yeah.” The corners of my lips bent upward as I remembered some happier moments of my childhood. “My father… He loved my powers. But he loved me more.” My eyes started to burn with tears, the air started to hurt in my lungs, and I tried to keep myself under control. “Sometimes, when my mother put me on yet another diet, he would slip me candy bars and money for proper food.”

While I spoke, Ben was just observing me. Not mocking me, not moving in any way, surprisingly just waiting.

“My mother, she…,” I went on, “Ugh, she wanted a perfect little Miss Superhero. Dragged me to all the pageants. When I think back, I can still smell the goddamn hairspray and hear the mothers yell at their daughters. I never lived up to my mom’s expectations. I was never talented enough, polite enough, or pretty enough.”

He hummed quietly to himself, and I wasn’t sure anymore if he was caught up in my story or his own.

My lips sagged as I continued, “So, I got frustrated and just… Started working against her. I got into fights, started taking drugs, shoplifted. She loved my powers. But she hated me.” My gaze dropped to my wildly fidgeting fingers, and I cracked my knuckles in an attempt to self-soothe. “She made sure I knew I was a fuck-up. She would turn in her grave if she could see that I’m the one raising Lily now.”

Ben sighed through his pursed mouth and raised his glass to me. “To fucked-up parenting.”

I bit the inside of my cheek and bumped my glass against his. “To fucked-up parenting.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No, we were wired to the fucking gills,” Ben chuckled, comfortably buzzed. His cheeks wore a freckled tinge of red, and he’d taken off his gloves.

“Holy shit!”, I cried out and downed the light brown liquid in my glass once more.

Though, let’s be honest, I should’ve stopped drinking quite a while ago. My mind was foggy, yet excited, and my body felt drowsy. Don’t get me wrong, I was a fun drunk. But also a reckless one. I made bad decisions if I crossed that line from tipsy to wasted. And I hadn’t just tiptoed along that line, like I’d told myself I would. I had crossed it with a powerful somersault to the deep end.

“You disappointed?”, he questioned, examining my flushed face.

“What?”, I mumbled, turning to fully face him, sitting cross-legged on the couch, the shoes missing from my feet.

He cocked his head and said, “They say never meet your fucking idols for a reason.”

“Who said you were my idol?”, I babbled, close to laughing again. Why was everything so funny when I was drunk?

Ben raised one of his eyebrows at me, his head moving backward in surprise, creating half a double chin on his upper throat.

I paused for a second and realized just how close we were sitting to each other. Even offended, he was gorgeous. On the outside, at least.

“Alright, fine. I used to have a poster of you,” I confessed through a tiny embarrassed fit of laughter. Blame it on the whiskey. It made me chatty.

“Ha! For real?”, he exclaimed, a genuine gleam of interest flashing through his eyes.

“Yeah… It was a rare one, too. Aaall my friends were jealous.” Having lost my sensitivity for personal space, I leaned forward a little too far, leaving only a few inches of alcohol breaths between us. “My green wallpaper really brought out the color of your eyes.”

His gaze fell to my mouth. It was just a tiny, soft movement, but its impact on the atmosphere was harsh like the slap of a whip. “You ever touched yourself to the thought of me?”, he questioned, then sunk his teeth into his plump lip.

“You have no shame, do you?”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” The corner of his mouth pulled up, lining his face with a drowsy half-smirk. He tilted his face so that he could look directly into my eyes. “I’ve certainly beat my meat thinkin’ ‘bout that pretty little cunt of yours.”

His raspy tone shot a hot shiver down my body. The sparks even reached the tips of my fucking toes. I dragged my tongue along my lower lip. His hungry gaze followed the pink muscle. “You have?”

Blunt fingertips met my cheekbone with the softest of touches. They skimmed along my skin with great care, latching on to some rogue strands of hair to place them behind my ear. “Ever since I had you in my fucking trailer, I can’t stop thinkin’ about you,” his captivating voice admitted, urging me to believe him.

Oh boy, charm-alert. I was a weak woman. Longing to be held, even more so when I was intoxicated. And there was a well-built, handsome man sitting on my couch, making advances at me.

When I got up, the alcohol swirled around in my system, and I stumbled a little.

“Whoa, princess, you’re fucking wasted, aren’t you?” His hands steadied me by my hips as I climbed onto his lap. Amusement overtook his face. “Maybe it’s time for a little nap.”

“You wanna come to bed with me?”, I whispered against his bearded cheek.

His gravelly, honey-coated chuckles touched my very core. Then suddenly, he hauled me up along with him, holding me up by the backs of my thighs. My legs wound around his middle as he carried me to my bedroom. I pressed my lips to his neck to stop more drunk giggles from coming out.

Tag list: @akshi8278 @leigh70 @impalaslytherin @mimzy1994 @asgardiandeadpoetsociety @panhufflestugf @spnwoman @themerc-with-a-mouth @waynes-multiverse @tzillas @josephslittlemetalballs @deliriouslybi @ryethebrokengae @epiphany-of-a-madwoman @rach5ive @mrsjenniferwinchester @may85 @jassackles @mimaria420 @calsjack @gingersass @madigabiab @tmb510

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy #soldier boy x y/n #the boys fanfiction

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iboatedhere · 3 months ago

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Get To Know Me Better Tag Game

I was tagged by @haxprocess @luainthewild & @piratefalls. Some of the questions varied slightly so I combined them.

favorite color - Blue

last song - The Bolter- Taylor Swift

currently reading - pull me out of the fire, from my lowest take me higher by @anincompletelist and then I absolutely have to start on the @aroyallybigbangrwrb fics.

currently watching - The new season of Unsolved Mysteries that I didn't even know was dropping yesterday.

currently craving - Tbh, all this Boar's Head recall talk has made me crave a really meaty roast beef sandwich even though I don't eat meat and haven't in a very long time.

coffee or tea - I like both but I only drink coffee when someone else makes it for me, it costs over $6 and it doesn't actually taste like coffee.

hobby to try - Gardening! And not the haphazard gardening I got into this year where I just bought whatever was pretty and didn't really have a plan as to where I was planting things so I ended up cramming a million zinnias into a small space (which actually turned out nice) or buying a million pots or shoving perennials way too close together. I'm gonna end up digging up a peony bush I bought because I put it too close to another perennial that I didn't even know the name of and hasn't even bloomed yet. I bought a $60 lilac tree when we already have 4 other lilacs. I want to plan things out and get some really nice raised beds and have a purpose to where things are going and when they should be planted. I also want to grow some vegetables.

current au - I'm in crisis mode about this currently. I don't know if I want to keep going on the merman AU---which isn't really working for me---or the rodeo AU which I don't really know where that's going or the Telluride AU which I REALLY don't know where it's going.

Spicy/sweet/savory: I do really love a sweet treat.

Current obsession: RWRB I guess and I know it's gonna intensify when filming starts because I missed all that stuff the first time around.

Relationship status: Single.

Tagging: @porcelainmortal @henryspearl @thesleepyskipper @suseagull04 @lightningboltreader @lemonlyman-dotcom

#tag game

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suchagallabitch · 1 year ago

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🫵weekly wednesday tag 🫵

omg I (simple old me?) have been bestowed upon the honour of coming up with these questions??? i would like to thank the academy for this most sacred honour 😋

1. if you could switch bodies with anybody for only one hour who would it be and what would you do? I think I gotta say taylor swift OBVI. first off im gonna dropping ME! acoustic version. Then I’m gonna hope lover deluxe is already recorded, drop that. If not i will make sure to text Jack and tell him that we need to record it so that i get it either way 😼. Then I would find out the definite truth of what happened between her and Karlie Kloss. I’d wire myself (as in me- me) a few million dollars, pet the cats and then post something really random on her instagram story. Literally want to make the public go absolutely bananas trying to figure out why taylor posted a random twitter meme. I have a lot of faith to believe this could all happen in an hour but I would try. SO hard.

2. whats your most trivial / dumbest hot take?I don’t think we should still be discovering animals. like what do you mean in the year of our lord 2023 we are STILL finding animals?? no they should all be discovered and if they havent been then i think they should stay undiscovered.

3. if you had to teach a college course what would it be in? I feel like we’re all expecting me to say something Taylor related but honestly I could teach a masterclass on the psychology of Ryan Murphy. I hate that man and i have so much to say about him and his productions

4. season 12 of shameless is suddenly happen and youve been put in charge! what plot point(s) are you gonna make happen? I cant think of anything substantial to actually contribute but i want Carl Gallagher to have a fruity little vape. I also want to see him quit the force and flourish in a new job!

5. who would be your godly parent? (can be any mythology). I’m gonna go with greeks as a Percy Jackson stan. I asked my bsf who is an expert in greek mythology. She said: “you’re a Aphrodite child cuz you’re a hopeless romantic and you appreciate beauty. You’re very particular in how you’re viewed and how everything you produce is viewed (what you write, how your feed looks like, etc.)” - I’m gonna have to agree with her on Aphrodite

6. what’s something you love about yourself? I think i’m so very very funny

7. describe your day in 5 emojis: 😴👁️👩‍💻✈️☕️

8. what shameless character do you think you could beat in a fight? Realistically i think the ONLY person i could beat in a fight is Liam and honest to god im not even sure i could.

9. tell us 2 truths and a lie, we’ll try to guess the lie!

- I’m double jointed

- I sleep on the left side of the bed

- I’ve never had pumpkin pie

10. do you have a pet(s). if so how did they get their name? I do! my son (cat) is named Chidi after the good place!

11. show us a meme (or picture) that captures your essence

self explanatory.

12. whats your typical coffee / tea / beverage order? see i gotta have a special lil drinky drink everyday and i mean my little drinky drinks are free so i am likw 80% gingerbread chai at any given time. Alternatively, an iced chestnut praline latte w/ praline cold foam.

13. use a song to describe the last 5 years of your life?

2019- its nice to have a friend- taylor swift

2020- ribs - lorde

2021- nothing new - taylor swift

2022- first love / late spring- mitski OR orlando- leith ross

2023- true blue - boygenuis OR now that we don’t talk - taylor swift.

Thank you friends thats all i got :)

I Tag: @deedala @darlingian @michellemisfit @mybrainismelted @too-schoolforcool @gallawitchxx @gardenerian @sam-loves-seb @thisdivorce @xninetiestrendx @scarcrosseduntouched @juliakayyy @y0itsbri @grumble-fish @grumpymickmilk @transmickey @surviving-maybe @metalheadmickey @heymrspatel @auds-and-evens @deathclassic @flamingbluepanda @crossmydna @sleepyfacetoughguy @vintagelacerosette @depressedstressedlemonzest @thepupperino @squidyyy23 @energievie 🫶🫶

#im on a plane rn #zoom zoom in the sky #elle does tags

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tallymonster · 1 year ago

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Memories of Us Chapter 6

Chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

Summary: It's party time bitches. Octavia and Gale get a little close, tell each other some things about themselves. Gross wine is involved.

Inspired by @cheesy-cryptid 's fan art that took root in my mind and continues to do so.

As always I want to give credits to my best friend @micropoe10 for reading this and helping me come up with stuff. You're the best babe 😘

Tag list: (as always thanks to those who asked to be tagged! If you'd like to join, let me know!)

@justporo @satanicspinosaurus @sleepy-timaeus @tragedybunny @davenswitcher @wayward-hel

Chapter 6

maybe you and me

Inside the museum, the crowd is evergrowing. Hundreds of people are flooding the main atrium. Not even in Octavia's childhood celebrating her hero ancestor had she seen this many people in one place. She and Gale keep walking linked arm in arm, as they step through the convention she sees the statue of Tav, her great grandmother. She feels like now is the perfect time to tell Gale.

"Uh...Gale?" She tugs a little at his sleeve, he turns to look at her quizzically. "Everything okay?" He asks, she nods reassuringly " I have something to tell you and I don't want you to freak out or anything..." She looks over at the statue and begins telling him about her childhood.

The stories her grandmother would tell her about the hero matriarch of their family, the adventures that were had with his ancestor Gale of Waterdeep, the grand wizard who also saved this town. The trials they had through with the Gith, the Sharran turned Selunite, the Tiefling with the heart of iron, and the Blade of Frontiers.

The whole story fascinated Gale and he couldn't believe that she knew what he had grown up with, to be one of the line of people they came from was no easy task. "Incredible! You somehow always have a trick up your sleeve don't you? Oh I cannot wait to tell Astarion!" His eyes are alight with renewal behind them. He shakes his head and holds on to both of Octavia's hands. "You are the key. You are the one who could help, this is why he gave you the damn book! How? How the hells did he even know?!"

Octavia's brows shot up and a cold worry quickly filled her. "He doesn't know. I don't know if you realize by how little I mention it, or by how quietly I just told you in a gigantic party, but I'm not exactly one to advertise my family lineage. People tend to get weird about it.." She slowly drops her hands out of Gale's. "I would appreciate it if we didn't tell him...not yet." She swallows nervously, "Maybe after this whole painting business is done?"

She smiles wryly and takes a pair of drinks from a tray carrying waiter passing by. "Let's just take a note from his book tonight? What does he say? 'Live a little, daaahling'." She ends with a bad impersonation of Astarion, hands Gale the glass and they clink glasses; he shakes his head with a smile and drinks.

—-------------------

It had been roughly two hours since she and Gale were separated by the guests who had a million questions about the new exhibit. She was on her third different way of wording the same answer to a halfling who kept making it very clear that their family was one of the many donors to this museum. She laughs and nods, appeasing them and excusing herself. She finds an open door to the outer balcony and swiftly walks towards it.

Thankfully there was another drink table next to it, she grabs a flight of what looks like sparkling water and quickly drinks it. To her distaste, it was more of that gross tasting champagne. As she comes out onto the balcony, she wriggles as the bubbles shoot down her throat, the sensation causing her to make an audible groan.

"Isn't it just awful? I pay for the best but get this vinegar in a champagne bottle. How utterly disappointing." Of course, as if on cue, Astarion makes his appearance. He strolls up from behind Octavia and dumps the champagne into a topiary planter. He's dressed in the most immaculate outfit she has ever seen him wear.

Black from top to bottom, his shirt was opened and his chest exposed to the moonlight, very fitted pants, and a hint of red in the lining of his jacket. His eyes are covered by his glasses, Octavia was hoping he wouldn't wear them tonight but she doesn't bring it up.

Astarion takes a red handkerchief from his coat pocket and wipes his lips in one fluid motion. "Good evening to you too, Astarion. I take it you're having a good night? Well aside from the drinks." Octavia giggles and leans back on the edge of the enclosure, her hands resting on the wall.

"I would if these people would stop making me repeat myself. Don't know how many times I was approached by the same Drow woman asking me idiotic questions about the other exhibits. Thank the Gods she got pulled away by an hors d'oeuvres tray passing by. I made my dashing escape afterwards. What about you, darling? Are you finally enjoying yourself?" He stands next to her, facing out towards the city.

"Yes, somewhat. I mean I'm right there with you about the cycle of questioning. Other than that it's been..." she pauses, looking down "it's been fine. Like I said before, I'm more of a 'work silently in the background' type. So for me to be here, under all this attention...it's intimidating. I'm just not used to it." Her lips upturn slightly, she plays with the hem of the sleeve hanging off her shoulder. "I'm sorry if that's not the answer you were looking for."

She huffs and turns her body to look out. "Growing up here, you learn a lot of things, fantastical adventures, death defying actions to save the world, magic and gods, demons, mind flayers....honestly I'm glad I didn't have to do all of that. Seems hard." She bends a little and places her elbows on the edge of the wall, there she tucks her hands under her chin.

Astarion looks down at her, his brows somewhat knitted together, a small frown on his face. "Darling, it's one thing to read about it, doing it is a completely different story." He turns to his right, looking into the patrons inside the atrium. "Those people in there would never get it. They're the elites who came up after all the shit everyone else cleaned up. They weren't the ones knee deep in it for who knows how long. Sleeping in dirt, chasing monsters, killing whomever or whatever tried to kill you first. It's exhausting."

He spoke like someone who had first hand experience with this, the way he seethed through the whole speech. Octavia sensed there was something else behind that anger, but this was not the time to pry more. She turns to him, standing close under the evening stars, she places her hand on his. Somehow this seemed like what he needed right now.

Astarion tenses a little, but Octavia can feel him relax soon after. From the corner of her eye she could swear a small smile cracked in the corner of his mouth and his ears wiggled a little. There was a small huff behind it, followed by Astarion clearing his throat. They stand there in the silence, staring out at the lights glittering in the veil of the night.

"OCTAVIA!!! FINALLY I FOUND YOU!!!" Gale comes stumbling through the door, his jacket is undone and the drink in his hand is swirling wildly with his movements. "I have been..looking EVERYWHERE for you!!!" She and Astarion break their contact, startled, and she walks towards Gale catching him in her arms. Astarion instantly disappears into the shadows. "I thought I saw 'starion here with you..?"

Gale slurs a bit, his breath smelling like the champagne that Astarion had criticized earlier. "Oh no, I was here alone. Maybe it was one of the waiters they've got wandering around?" She holds up her glass, giving him a slight smile. She links her arm with his and sits down on the bench in front of them. "Why? Were you looking for him for any particular reason?"

Gale enthusiastically nods, his whole body shaking in return. "Yes! I wanted to talk to him!! I haven't seen him all night! He's always moving around in the shadows like some sort of-" "Is there something you wish to talk about, my dear Gale? I just walked past and heard you mention me?" Astarion comes out and interrupts Gale, he walks towards the pair, and he crosses his arms and legs on the wall in front of them. "YES! I..was thinking about that book!"

Octavia quietly gasps, her whole body turning cold in an instant. Whether it was from the lack of covering on her shoulders and arms, or the fear of Gale's drunk inhibitions outing her in front of Astarion "Octavia here..." He continues, "She told me that she knows stuff! Like...real good stuff..." He leans back some, his body fully consumed by the alcohol pulling her down a little. "She was telling me..uh that she's-" before he could finish, Octavia jerks him back, his whole body turning into rubber, pulling them down onto the floor.

She lands on top of him, her arms on his chest, his wrapped around her. "Hi. I forgot what I was talking about." His face full of a drunken blush now turns into a whole body flush. Octavia seizes the opportunity to shut him up, go home, and end this whole night all at the same time.

She pulls Gale up to her and kisses him, the taste of the bitter alcohol filling her mouth. She feels his arms squeeze her down a little and he leans into it some. She pulls away instantly and Astarion lets out a scandalous laugh "Oh I see how it is...good for you Gale"

Octavia gets off, rolling onto her legs and turns up at Astarion. She puts on a somewhat convincing drunk voice, "Sorry, he pulled me down and I...I guess I just couldn't help myself?" Astarion laughs more, extending his hand to help her up, "Oh no dearest, don't worry, I'm not jealous of the walking encyclopedia. I'm happy for you, really. You should probably take him home, seems like he's had a little too much fun for one night, hmm?"

Astarion laughs and helps Octavia pull Gale up, he sways softly as he catches himself. "But..." He pouts, Astarion pats his back and straightens him up more. "Gale, whatever it is you can always tell me later. There are more pressing matters that I feel you should attend to..." He motions his head towards Octavia, she could feel the salacious glare behind the lenses he wore and it made her face go warm. "Yeah, let's go Gale."

#next chapter features gardens lockpicks and someone gets mad #bg3 #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 astarion #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #astarion bg3 #headcanon fic #fanfic #bg3 fanfic #fic: memories of us

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pghbabesonbikes · 10 months ago

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FBX

by Sara Khalil

Alleycats are a fun, low-pressure way to race. That’s why I always try and get people to do them, ha. First, you’ll receive checkpoints & a spokecard. Next, you’ll make a plan to bike to one, many, or all of the checkpoints. Lastly, you’ll follow the spectacular race directors instructions to complete the alleycat and bonus, you’ll feel like a million bucks. You’ll leave the race day with your delicately positioned spokecard in your front wheel for years to come, a small yet important token proving you kick ass.

Every alleycat is organized a little bit differently. Sometimes the checkpoints are literally an address which is definitely a win for the navigation nerds. Other times they’re mediocre riddles or even just a spot on a map (that’s not even drawn to scale 🙃). It’s likely you’ll find all the things you need at them, like rad people to keep you motivated, snacks/drinks, cheerful signs, a much needed floor pump, among other things…

The strategy for attacking an alleycat can also really vary. Buddy up with people, you can do it in a group! If you’re worried about navigating or simply just want to have fun then rely on everyone’s brain for navigation (at your own risk!) and see where you place! More competitive? Wanna see if you have the street cred to really do the thing?? Try and rely on your own navigation to get you through it, whether that is google maps or your experience driving Uber. Honestly, sometimes I just follow the tire tracks and hope for the best…

I work for a local bike share company that hosts 2 alley-cat-style rides each year. I call these alley-cat-style because they aren't races, but more multi-destination rides that are designed to get folks of all comfort levels out for fun, social, urban rides. Even though these rides lack the big race mentality, these rides are really fun for riders of all levels, and ultimately, you can bring whatever energy you want! Bike or Treat is our Halloween alleycat that takes place the Saturday before Halloween every year (a fun scavenger hunt race), and Le Tour De Donut is our April alleycat with 4 checkpoints each stocked up with donuts from local bakeries and coffee.

We don't have registration up yet for Le Tour, but folks can see all of our upcoming events here: https://pogoh.com/events/

My favorite kind of alleycat is the “go fast get there first” classic style - the Frigid Bitch way!

Every year I plan to do it solo, and if someone tries to tag on I always let them know there’s a non zero chance I might ditch them because I’m in it to win it. When the checkpoints drop, I usually bust out a paper BikePGH map to get a feel for where the checkpoints are across the city, highlighting potential routes between each. I’m confident in my ability to navigate most neighborways and bike lanes. I never use technology to navigate because it kinda takes forever to be honest! If I’m gonna skip a few, it’s usually the ones that are on hills, because I’m a slow-ish climber. I have a side plan that if I make it to a certain point by a certain time, then I’ll go for them!

The plan, roughly

This year when the checkpoints dropped, I was kicking myself because I knew almost all the checkpoints from doing the training rides, but I missed the training ride that hit Climax St! Of course it was a stop for FBX. And the south side slopes are kind of my kryptonite - I almost never climb them. This meant I really had no idea how much time Climax st was going to add to my route. I decided to nix Climax and Rialto from my gameplan for the day. I didn’t think I would have time to make them.

Jo at the lake

My first stop was the lake. From there, I promptly guided my pal to a staircase that no longer existed, then to what I believed to be the checkpoint, but what was really the weird statue/shrine in South Oakland. Once we finally found Romeo St, it was a real vibe - we ditched our bikes and ran up the stairs to someone holding a sign that said “You’re a bitch!” which warmed my soul and spotted a friend Jarrod taking photos. We quickly said hi and bye before heading down the new-to-us, fully functioning staircase that connects to Bates and swiftly hiked our bikes down it. We crossed Hot Metal Bridge to hit OTB as fast as possible. Our plan was Grandview next, but somewhere along the way my bud egged me on to try Climax and we split. Turns out, it wasn’t a bad climb (the memory is distant now, ha) ANDDD Venture Outdoors had a s’mores stop at the top. Score.

Photo by Murphy Moschetta

I like to move quickly, so I bombed back down to south side and made my way over to climb back up PJ McCardle. I noticed my front tire was going flat when I got to the overlook and a volunteer, Bobby, helped me pump it up. Thankfully it didn’t give me any trouble for the rest of the race. I continued on, at this point feeling a little beat from climbing up two big hills. I was solo. I hit the point and kept on rolling. Somewhere in the Strip I linked back up with Jo and she encouraged me, yet again, to go for it. I sped up to hit Rialto. The next few checkpoints are kind of a blur. I slid through Polish Hill before heading to the button to see my friend Erin, and roped my way down to the official checkpoint near the water.

Last up, I rushed up to hit the last stop, Bananna-lenaville. I felt an emotional burst because the volunteers were counting down “10… 9… 8…” as I rolled up. I found out later, they did that for a lot of folks… good call team Bananna-lenaville! I started off to the Wheel Mill in hopes I’d get there quick! I ditched my bike on the sidewalk, ran up the stairs, and politely threw my manifest at the volunteer. FBX was in the books. I took a look around to see who was back (though it’s impossible to tell how you did) and started swapping stories. A few popular questions were floating around - “How many checkpoints did you hit?” “Who did you ride with?” “Did you hit Rialto?” Everyone had a different day.

Proof I did it

I finished in 25th place and got ALL the checkpoints. I was pretty stoked about how I finished, but even more excited to announce a little secret my friends and I were a part of - the brand new Pittsburgh Babes on Bikes Racing team! We’re a couple of badass babes who are introducing racing to more women and under repped gender identities, organizing group rides/clinics, and generally getting more folks to get out together to try more on two wheels. Our team aims to add more novice riders as time goes on.

photo by Monica Garrison

If you’ve ever thought about racing mountain bikes, well, this is your year! We’re hosting a bunch of pre-rides out at Yellow Creek State Park in anticipation of one of my favorite races, the YC Monthly Grassroots series. The first pre-ride is March 23rd and the race follows the next weekend. There are three routes available - beginners tackle 8 miles, sport riders hit a 16 mile out and back with a few creek crossings, and experts go after the full 23 mile loop which has some rocky bits. Pick your distance and come check it out with us in March! Frigid Bitch racers get a discount code for race registration.

My most prized collection

I’m looking forward to another year of Frigid Bitch. Less than a month out, I’m full of excitement wondering if I’ll get any new friends or flats along the way. What will the weather be like? What bike will I ride? Am I even going to know where the fucking checkpoints are?? Anything can happen! But it’s nice to know it’s gonna be a surprise.

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askstevella · 9 months ago

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How did Steve react to John Walker…. 🫣

Well…let’s flashback to that moment in the living room/kitchen shall we?

~~~~~~~

*walked into the hallway, just finished washing the dishes instead of using the machine with a grin* “Alright dishes are clean! Hopefully, no more dirty dishes until dinner time haha. If anyone needs me, I’mma be on the couch…might even take a nap.”

*He hears Stella response with a simple ‘Okay!’ from the bathroom pausing the shower for a moment, as he heard for the kids voices hearing the sound of video games and toys rattling around upstairs. Then Steve enters the living room and sits comfortably on the couch, turning on the TV and flipping through channels.*

“Alright.” He says laying comfortably on the couch, flipping across the TV guide finding any entertaining movies or shows to watch until Channel 7 titled episode caught his eye, “…hm?”

The moment he clicked on the specific selected channel, the news anchor spoke about The New Captain America, which intrigued but confused Steve because he remembers giving Sam the opportunity to be Captain America, yes, but he think he would remember a text message from his old friends about being presented to the damn world as the new heroes.

He was on retirement and tried to stay relaxed about world news, he deserves the most rest of all after serving for so long with great pride.

But nothing prepared Steven Grant Rogers for the face among his TV screen, as he heard his wife’s footsteps entering the living room freshly bathed in sweatpants watching him. She asked him what happened but he only pointed to the TV screen as the words John Walker appeared next to the title of Captain America..

“Who the f- is that?!” He cursed muttering loudly.

His jaw dropped onto the literal floor, as a million thoughts ran across his head.

1) Who was that? That’s not Sam!

2) Why was he carrying my freaking shield (or should I say a copy of it)? Matter a fact, where is my Shield?! I might show this man a Brooklyn beat down.

3) How did the US say yes to this?!

4) I’mma need a drink!

Let’s just say, it took all of Steve’s strength to not leave his nice home and call Natasha. They were trying to retire, yet this stuff happens. Thankfully Sam and Bucky handle, giving them insight on their current status.

However that didn’t stop Steve to sneak out of the house at one point (Stella was not happy about that!!) to help them after a call from Bucky. This man got tears in his eyes hearing that Sam will be Captain America officially.

———

Tags: @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @meiramel l @gcthvile @rickb-chaos @gaminggirlsstuff @wizzzardofoz @cherrysft @thechoooooosenone @luna-d-marsh @rooster-84 @sherloquestea and etc

#ask the super spouses #askstevella #steve rogers x oc #the falcon and the winter soldier #john walker #answered asks #mcu x oc #sam wilson #tfatws #tfatws spoilers

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sidekick-hero · 5 months ago

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Summary:

Read on AO3 - the fic is finished and has 4 chapters, the last one will drop June 24

Chapter 1| Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Chapter 3 (4.7k) under the cut

Luck is on his side because Eddie is home. He looks like Steve just woke him up—pillow crease on his cheek, hair a mess, and his face softer than usual, making him look younger.

It's a sweet sight, one Steve might get used to if they actually move in together. For the first time, the thought doesn't fill him with dread and sadness about losing Robin as a roommate.

"Steve?" Eddie asks, blinking in confusion. "Birdie's not here, sorry." He sounds half-asleep, his words slightly slurred.

Of course, Eddie would think he was looking for Robin. Despite what Chrissy and Robin say, Steve and Eddie getting married will change things. Like, Steve will start seeking Eddie's company and they'll spend time alone without their friends as buffers.

"No, I know she's at work. I wanted to talk to you. I texted you that I was coming over."

Eddie’s face lights up with understanding. "Oh, sorry, my phone's in sleep mode. Had a late shift at the bar and only got home around 2. Then I had to open the garage because Bernie sprained his ankle, so I was catching up on some sleep."

"Ah, shit, I'm so sorry, man," Steve apologizes quickly, wincing. "I didn't mean to wake you. It's not that important, go back to sleep, we can talk tomorrow or—"

Eddie cuts him off with a hand on his shoulder. "No, no, it's okay, really. Come on in. You couldn't have known, and I should get up anyway if I don't wanna mess up my sleep rhythm."

Steve snorts. "From what I hear, you have as much of a sleep rhythm as Robin has a brain-mouth filter."

"You wound me, Harrington. Just because it's eclectic doesn't mean there's no rhythm. My sleep schedule is more jazz than pop."

Steve chuckles, rolling his eyes. “Sure, whatever you say.”

Eddie steps aside with a playful swat to Steve’s shoulder. “I feel like you’re not taking me seriously here.”

Steve only hums in response, so Eddie changes the topic. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

They move into the kitchen, and Steve takes a seat at the highbar Chrissy and Eddie installed two years ago. Steve remembers helping with that project, along with Eddie’s friend Jeff. It was a fun afternoon—just them chatting, sharing a big pizza, and working with their hands. It shouldn’t have surprised Steve that Eddie was good with his hands. After all, he’s seen him play guitar and mix drinks expertly when he bartends. He also knows Eddie makes most of his money fixing cars and motorbikes at a friend’s garage.

Still, seeing Eddie aptly handling tools and oiling up the wood had been… an experience. One he had revisited in his mind more than once when he couldn’t sleep and was too weak to fight off the urge any longer to jack off to thoughts of his friend.

“Earth to Steve, do you copy?”

Eddie’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and he realizes Eddie is now standing much closer than before.

“Uh… sorry, I zoned out. What did you say?”

“I,” Eddie starts, speaking slowly and deliberately, “asked if you wanted a coffee. And before that, I asked what you wanted to talk about. You haven’t answered either question, so here’s a third: Is everything alright?”

Eddie's probably joking, but he sounds a bit worried, so Steve musters a mostly sincere smile.

“Yeah, man. I’m good. Just… it’s been a long day. Long days. Coffee sounds good, I haven’t slept much.”

“Sure, coming right up.”

Steve watches as Eddie prepares their coffees, his thoughts drifting again as he watches Eddie’s surprisingly broad back move under his worn t-shirt. It looks soft and thin, sporting a couple of holes, and looking incredibly comfy. He idly wonders how it would feel to wrap his arms around Eddie’s tiny waist from behind, pressing his front against Eddie’s back, with his chin hooked over Eddie’s bony shoulder and his cheek against Eddie’s.

It’s a nice thought.

“Your coffee, my liege.”

A cup of coffee appears in front of Steve, startling him out of his daydreams about Eddie. It's the second time he's drifted off today, and he really needs to get his act together.

“Thanks, man. Do you have some milk?”

“Already added it. Two sips, no sugar, right?”

And, yeah, that’s exactly how Steve takes his coffee. He just had no idea Eddie knew that too.

His surprise must be obvious because Eddie's ears turn red. He hides his mouth behind a strand of hair and mumbles, “Just noticed you always make it like that.”

Steve's heart skips a beat. It's a small thing, but it means a lot to know that Eddie is paying so much attention to him, even if it's just as confusing as the time Eddie decided to fall on his own ass to save Steve's birthday cake. Or the time he drove over to Steve and Robin's apartment to make sure Steve had actually turned off the stove that morning because everyone else was at work.

It doesn't fit with the way he rebuffed every attempt by Steve to get to know him better when they first met. Or this conversation he overheard between him and Chrissy about two months after Robin and Chrissy started dating. The one where Eddie had asked why Robin was always bringing that rich asshole jock over.

Everything about Eddie keeps confusing him, making the conversation he needs to have with him even harder, so he takes a sip of coffee to buy some time.

It's good, strong but not bitter, and just the right amount of milk. He hums appreciatively. "Thanks, Eddie. It’s perfect."

Eddie smiles shyly and sits across from Steve, cradling his own mug. "So, what's up, man? It seemed pretty urgent when you knocked on my door."

Steve takes a deep breath, knowing he has to get this right. "I, uh, told Max and Dustin about us. You know, the whole fake engagement thing. Only, I didn’t tell them it’s fake, obviously."

Eddie raises an eyebrow. "Yeah? And how'd they take it?"

"Well, they believed it. Max was cool about it," Steve lies, remembering how serious Max got about his issues, something he doesn't want to unpack right now. "And Dustin... well, he was a little hurt we didn't tell him sooner, but he's on board. He'll be a groomsman, just FYI." Steve pauses, rubbing his neck nervously. "The thing is, I kind of told them a story about how we got together. And I'm not sure it matches what you've been telling people.”

Eddie's eyes widen in amusement. "You made up a story? This I gotta hear."

Steve groans but feels a bit relieved that Eddie seems cool about it. “Okay, so… it had to be convincing. Max and Dustin have known me forever, so they know that I’m someone who,” Steve pauses, feeling vulnerable admitting he falls fast and hard, an incurable romantic at heart.

“Someone who…” Eddie prompts.

“Someone who usually rushes headfirst into relationships. I hook up a lot, but when I date, I fall pretty fast. Robin says I have a trigger-happy heart, whatever that means.” He knows what it means, and that Robin’s right, but Eddie doesn’t need to know that. “So I told them I had a crush on you but wasn’t sure how you felt until a movie night, where we both reached for the chips and our fingers touched, then we kissed, and the rest is history. I proposed pretty fast after that, too, because I wanted to put a ring on the guy I had been crushing on for so long. They ate the story right up.” Steve adds the last part hastily, realizing how cliché it sounds.

Eddie laughs, shaking his head. "I can't believe they just bought it like that, it sounds like something straight out of a romcom. But you know what? I kinda love it."

Steve feels almost dizzy with relief. "You do?"

"Yeah, it's cute. And I haven't told anyone yet, so we can stick to your story."

Steve lets out a sigh of gratitude for Eddie’s easy acceptance before the implications of what Eddie just said sink in.

"You haven't told anyone yet?"

The hurt in his voice is more obvious than he wants it to be, but he can't help but wonder why Eddie wouldn't tell anyone. Sure, it's not like they're in a real relationship, but it still feels like Eddie's ashamed of him or something. Deep down he knows that he's way too invested, but it's hard not to get caught up in it all.

Eddie must have heard it too, because his eyes soften as they search his face. "No, not yet. I... wasn't sure you wouldn't take it back, to be honest. And I didn't want to have to explain to people why I told them I was getting married and then had to say 'oops, my bad, never mind', y'know?"

There's some color in Eddie's cheeks and he's fiddling with his rings, his eyes darting away from Steve's. He grabs Eddie's hand and stops him from twisting his thumb ring.

"You really thought that? But - why? I mean, if anyone was going to take it back, I thought it would be you. You're doing me a huge favor here, in case you've forgotten."

Eddie's hand feels warm in his, the skin under his palm softer than he expected. He squeezes it to emphasize his words and desperately wants to give in to the urge to caress his knuckles with his thumb, too.

He doesn't, figuring it's a line he shouldn't cross.

"I told you, I don't mind. And I get something out of it too, so it's not like you're twisting my arm or anything. I guess it's just hard for me to believe that someone like you would want to marry someone like me. Even if it's a scam."

"You mean someone who's a rich asshole jock?" Steve asks, his voice bitter as he remembers Eddie's words to Chrissy.

Eddie's eyes widen in obvious surprise. "What? No! What makes you..." Eddie begins, but trails off, the color draining from his face as he curses at the realization. "You heard that, huh?"

He looks pained as he asks, his hand twitching under Steve's as if he wants to pull it away but doesn't dare.

"Yeah, I did. Sorry for eavesdropping, but you and Chrissy were discussing it right in front of the bathroom I was going to use."

Eddie groans, finally pulling his hand away so he can bury his face in his hands. His voice is muffled when he speaks.

"No. Fuck, no. I'm sorry, Steve. That was... That was before."

"Before?"

"Before! Before I got to know you. Before I realized that I might be a complete idiot who prides himself on going against the grain and being open-minded and all that shit, only to go around judging people by their appearances instead of giving them a fair chance. The only asshole in this room is me." He groans again, a sound of pain and despair. "God, I can't believe you heard that crap and went on thinking that's how I fe - that's how I see you."

"Isn't it?" Steve couldn't help but ask, stunned by the sudden turn of events. He thought that Eddie had gotten over some of his resentment over the last few years, but it's hard to believe that he sees Steve so differently.

"It isn't!" Eddie almost yells, clearly wanting Steve to believe him. Then his voice softens again, "It's not. It didn't take me long to realize that you're a really good dude, Steve.”

And that is... a lot to take in. While he may need some time to let Eddie's words sink in, his heart doesn't seem to have any trouble taking this new realization and running with it, judging by the warmth spreading through his chest.

Eddie likes him. Has for some time, it seems. Maybe not in the same way that Steve likes him, but it's nice. Really nice.

"I won't," he tells Eddie.

"You won't what?"

"Take it back. I'm still all in. That is, if you are too."

A slow smile spreads across Eddie's face, the first hint of dimples adorning his cheeks. He returns it with one of his own, and for a long moment they just look at each other, the air around them thick with something. Something he dares not name, but that makes the hairs on his arms stand up.

Then Eddie breaks the moment by shaking his head with a small chuckle. "Looks like I have to make some phone calls today and share the great news."

"Great news? Did I miss something?" Steve jokes and Eddie rolls his eyes with a scoff.

"Had a clown for breakfast, Harrington?"

Right on cue, his stomach growls loudly. "Actually, I skipped breakfast."

Their eyes meet again and they both burst out laughing. When they calm down a bit, Eddie gets up from the table and claps his hand.

"Okay, this won't do. I can't let my future husband starve before he makes me an honest man. Let's go get something to eat, on me."

Steve gets up as well, still grinning happily. "You don't have to, I can pay."

"I know I don't and I know you can. But I want to. Sometimes people want to do nice things for you too, Stevie, and you have to let them. It's rude not to, y'know. Besides," Eddie adds, his voice getting serious, "I want to make it up to you. The shit I said, I mean."

He looks so earnest that it makes Steve melt a little. It's not that he needs it, he forgave Eddie long before they ever talked about it, but it feels like Eddie does.

"Okay. Thanks, Eds. I could go for some blueberry pancakes."

"Good choice, good choice. Lou's Diner?" Eddie's smile brightens again, both cheeks now dimpled, and Steve is glad he gave in, if it means he's the one causing that look on Eddie's face.

"You know how to treat a guy."

"I try."

Eddie disappears into his room to get his wallet, then rushes back, grabs his hands and drags him toward the door.

He doesn't let go until they're both on the sidewalk, walking side by side to the diner, their fingers brushing with almost every step.

"Okay, so I'm calling my uncle and the boys today, you already told Max and Dustin. Chrissy and Robin obviously know as well. Anyone else we need to tell?"

The question makes Steve falter in his steps and Eddie, who didn't notice at first and kept walking, rushes back to him when he realizes that Steve is no longer next to him.

"What is it? Is everything okay?"

Steve shakes his head. "No. I mean, yeah, I'm fine. Everything is fine. I just remembered I have to tell my boss. And my team."

"You think they'll react badly?"

With a sigh, Steve nudges Eddie's shoulder with his own and starts walking again. It's easier to talk about it when he doesn't have to look at Eddie's face.

"I don't know," he admits. "I want to say, no, they're good people. I mean, they are. But... back in high school, I thought my friends were good people, too. That they cared about me. Turns out they didn't. My best friend, Tommy... We used to fool around sometimes. He always said it didn't mean anything, that friends help each other out sometimes, no big deal. That's bullshit, of course. I just didn't want to admit that I liked guys as much as I liked girls. Then, the first semester of senior year, I had a girlfriend that I really liked. Loved, actually. Tommy didn't take it well. I guess he was jealous because I stopped making out with him and he told everyone how I liked dick. That I was trying to touch his.” Here Steve rolls his eyes at the irony of it all. It was Tommy who had always been so eager to get his hands on Steve. “Everything changed. My teammates on the basketball team refused to change in front of me, my friends started talking about me behind my back. Even my girlfriend looked at me differently after I admitted to her that I 'kind of like boys, too'."

It's like a dam has broken, all these words coming out of him. Eddie doesn't say a word, just walks beside him and lets him get it all out. He reaches for Steve's hand again, though, holding it in his own in silent support, his thumb stroking his knuckles in much the same way Steve had dreamed of doing to Eddie earlier.

When Steve is finished, Eddie squeezes his hand.

"Did you know that about 600,000 people go missing every year in the U.S.? Who knows, maybe this Tommy will join them soon. Wouldn't that be a shame?"

Steve can't help but burst out laughing. The grin Eddie throws his way tells him that's exactly what he hoped would happen, obviously proud of himself for making Steve laugh.

"I appreciate the...offer? Threat? Fun fact? But it's okay, I'm over it. It sucked big time, but it also made me realize that they were all rich asshole jocks and I didn't want to be one of them anymore." He winks to take some of the heat out of his words.

"Okay, fine. The offer's on the table, though. But seriously, I get it. You're afraid your team will let you down like those assholes did."

"I guess. Which is probably unfair, but -"

"Once burned, twice shy."

"Exactly. Is that stupid?"

"No, it's not." Eddie reassures him. "I think it's perfectly normal to be cautious after what you've been through. But maybe your teammates are surprising you. Every time you talk about them, they sound pretty awesome and like you have a great relationship with them."

Steve didn't even realize he was talking about his teammates so much, or that Eddie was paying attention when he did.

"So how about this: Our apartment has this common area out back. We could have a little barbecue out there with Max and Dustin and the girls on the day you tell your team. That way, we can take your mind off of it if it doesn't go well, or, my personal favorite, we can celebrate that they took it well with a couple of burgers and some beer."

Eddie sounds sincere, his hand around Steve's as firm and sure as his voice.

"That... that would be great. You really think that would be okay?"

They reach Lou's Diner and Eddie turns to face him, his big brown eyes full of an emotion Steve can't name. "Yeah, I'm sure. All in, remember?"

On impulse, Steve rushes forward and wraps his arms around Eddie, pressing his face into his neck. After a moment of surprised hesitation, Eddie's arms wrap around him in return. He squeezes Steve tightly, his hand gently rubbing his back.

Steve doesn't let go for a long time.

Eddie is so screwed. He's not known for making particularly smart decisions, but this has to take the cake. Offering to fake marry the guy he's been head over heels for years.

Stupidity of epic proportions, your name is Eddie Munson.

In his defense, he didn't come up with the idea. No, that honor goes to Chrissy and Buckley. But Eddie could have said no when they pitched him their idea on how to help Steve get his inheritance and at the same time flip that horrible woman he's unfortunate enough to call Grandmother the bird.

As if Eddie has that much sense of self-preservation. It's like they never even met him. So of course he said yes, and when Steve told him, all earnest puppy eyes, that Eddie didn't have to do this, he made up a story about needing a loan for the record store he and Jeff were in the process of buying anyway. He's not looking forward to that awkward conversation when that particular truth comes out, but that's a problem for future Eddie.

Present Eddie is freaking out because past Eddie offered to throw a barbecue for Steve to make him feel better after coming out to his team at the firehouse. He invited Steve's little sister Max and made sure that Dustin came all the way from Boston to join them, with Robin, Chrissy, and Eddie there as backup in case Steve's team reacts badly and he needs his favorite people to cheer him up.

"Could you please stop freaking out, Edward? Robin and Steve are going to be here any minute and you looking like you're seconds away from bolting is not going to help anyone."

"I really don't like this tough love thing you've got going, Chris. Where's the sweet, innocent girl who ambushed me in the woods to buy weed from me and then never left?"

"She became friends with you," Chrissy quips back and presses a quick kiss to his cheek, still grinning.

Eddie, unable to keep up the fake annoyance any longer, cracks and, with a cackle of laughter, grabs his best friend and spins her around until her pearly laugh echoes through their apartment.

That's how Steve and Robin find them, clearly amused by the antics they've just seen.

"Did we miss something?" Steve asks with a smile and Eddie's heart flutters at the sight.

"Nope," he answers, popping the 'p'. "Just the usual occurrence of Chrissy being a menace to me."

"Watch it, Munson. That's my girlfriend you're talking about." Robin chimes in and walks over to greet Chrissy with a sweet kiss.

"Stevie, it is your sacred duty as my future husband to defend me!" Eddie cries out as Steve just stands there watching them with amusement.

"Oh no, no, no. I refuse to be dragged into this."

Robin actually cackles like some kind of supervillain. "Damn right. Steve knows I have access to his hair products and I have no qualms about using that knowledge against him."

Eddie throws up his arms and stalks off to the kitchen to get the things they need for the barbecue.

Later, he stands by the grill, watching Steve flip burgers with the ease of someone who’s done it a thousand times. The backyard is filled with the people closest to Steve and him, their laughter and conversation filling the common area. Eddie's heart feels incredibly full at the sight.

He nudges Steve gently. "You okay? You haven't said a word about how it went. Has me a bit worried, to be honest."

Steve nods, though Eddie can see the pensiveness in his eyes. "Yeah, I'm good. I guess it went better than I thought it would. They hated that I didn't tell them sooner, but Jim talked some sense into them. He said I didn't owe them anything and that he was sure I had my reasons."

Eddie gives him a reassuring smile. "They'll understand when you tell them what you told me. And even if you don't, it sounds like they care a great deal about you. They'll get over it."

Steve takes a deep breath and nods. "I hope you're right." Then he looks at Eddie through his lashes, a wry twist to his mouth indicating Steve thinks Eddie won't like what's coming next. "I might have invited them all to our wedding. Y'know, to make it up to them. But I'm sure I could tell them -"

"That's fine, Steve. Really. In fact, I didn't expect anything else. I was hoping Uncle Wayne would have someone his age at the wedding to talk to, and your captain sounds like the perfect guy for the job."

Eddie quickly begins to realize that he would do anything for Steve, as long as it meant Steve would look at him the way he does now. His hazel eyes are all soft and warm, the little smile that curls the corners of his mouth almost intimate. They lean in close, both gazing at each other, lost in their own little orbit. So close, Eddie can see the freckles on the bridge of Steve's nose and the swirls of gold and green in his eyes. It wouldn't take much to bridge the gap between them, just a slight tilt of his head, a few inches of space he'd need to push forward. Just a few teeny-tiny inches...

"Ew, gross! Get a room, you two. There are children present." Max's voice cuts through the thickening tension between them, startling them apart.

Steve looks at her sternly, his hands on his hips and a scowl on his face. "Excuse me?"

Eddie, on the other hand, just sticks his tongue out at her.

Dustin, who had been talking with Robin, also turns toward them, adding his own two cents. "I can't believe I didn't call this. You two are so obvious, it's embarrassing."

Usually, Eddie would tell Dustin off for his tone, maybe even tease him about missing all the clues with that genius brain of his, but that would be risky. Sure, maybe there had been clues from his side, but he sure as hell doesn’t want Steve to know that. So instead of doing one of his favorite things in the world—teasing Dustin—he keeps quiet and just rolls his eyes at him.

Steve, however, chooses a different approach. He ignores both his little sister and Dustin in favor of continuing their conversation.

"So, how did your uncle take the news of your betrothal?"

The phrasing makes Eddie laugh. "Stevie, you sound like Birdie and Chrissy made you watch Pride and Prejudice with them." When Steve doesn’t respond, only his cheeks slightly reddening, Eddie can’t help but cackle. "They did, didn’t they? Don’t worry, I’ve been swooning over Mr. Darcy since I was a teenager. I'm happy to be your Elizabeth Bennet."

For a moment, Eddie's afraid he said too much, revealed too much. But Steve’s just smiling at him like the thought amuses him, so Eddie thinks they’re good. He really hopes so, because now that Steve mentioned his talk with Wayne, he remembers the old man’s words.

When Eddie had told him about the wedding, asking if he’d come, his uncle had been surprisingly unsurprised.

"It’s that Steve fella you’re always going on about, isn’t it?" he had asked, like he’d been waiting for something like that to happen. It had made Eddie cringe. Seems like he had talked a lot more about Steve than he thought he had.

"How’d you know?" Eddie still had to ask.

"Because you’ve been smitten with that boy for years and he would be stupid not to want you back. And my nephew doesn’t fall for stupid."

It was then that Eddie had wished more than ever that he could tell Wayne the truth, ask his advice. But just like Steve, he didn’t want to pull his only family that mattered to him into his mess. Besides, Wayne sounded so happy that Eddie finally got to have the love he deserves that Eddie couldn’t bring himself to tell him that no, Steve just needed him. Liked him, maybe, from the looks of it, but not love. Never love, not for Eddie.

"Hello, Earth to Eddie. Do you copy?" Steve asks, sounding once again like the nerd Eddie knows he secretly is after years of hanging out with Dustin Henderson.

"Yeah, sorry, just remembered that I have to put the garbage bin out tomorrow."

Steve looks a bit doubtful but lets it drop. "So, your talk with your uncle, how did it go?"

"It went well. He’s excited to meet you."

Another of those soft smiles graces Steve’s face, and Eddie learns that he’s quickly becoming addicted to causing them. "Good, that’s good. Me too. He sounds great."

Only two more weeks until the most important person in his life and the guy he’s secretly in love with, whom he’s fake marrying, will meet. What could possibly go wrong?

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddiesummerexchange #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #my writing

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star-trekkin-across-theuniverse · 2 years ago

Text

Worthy, pt 14

part 1 & 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13

__________ tags: @bolontiku, @rampant-salamander, @darkdragonpheonix , @440mxs-wife, @castiels-sunflowers, @peekingsunshine, @alexakeyloveloki, @feelmyroarrrr

Word Count: 2647

__________

His lips were soft. It’s all I could think about. How perfectly soft they were. And the gentle desperation of his kiss. Like he was terrified that he would have to run away at any moment. Which I suppose was true. The risk made it more exciting, I realized, as I leaned into him and responded. I slid my hand up his arm, anchoring him to me, defying the rational realization that eventually this kiss would have to stop lest we unleash the Hulk. But I couldn’t be rational. I’d been smitten with Bruce Banner’s brain for so long. Discovering his gentle soul and kind person made him all that much more desirable, and I was not going to let go of him, no matter what that unleashed.

We broke apart naturally. I was a little breathless, and my heart was racing. Bruce’s eyes flashed green and he blinked and took a deep breath to still himself. When his eyes returned to normal, I leaned in and kissed him again. He chuckled awkwardly and broke the kiss.

“We are playing with fire, Ella.” His voice was low, and gravelly. Maybe the Other Guy started deep inside before breaking free.

“I was a girl scout. I’ve got fire safety nailed,” I winked. I linked my hand in his and dragged him to his feet. I pulled him back to the building and into the elevator, and punched my floor. I said nothing as the elevator took us up. When it opened on my floor, he hesitated.

“Ella,” he paused at the doors. I shook my head and pulled him off the elevator.

“I think that the Other Guy needs to know that I’m not going to hurt you,” I theorized.

“I don’t think that’s how he works,” he argued.

“I think it is. Look, you transform when you, Bruce, have been made vulnerable. I think the Other Guy senses that and that’s why he comes out. So we need to make sure that he knows I’m not going to hurt you.” I’d been thinking about it a lot.

“That’s an interesting theory. Tony’s theory is that he protects me. That he manifested to protect me from the Gamma radiation,” Bruce considered.

“Well, that’s two geniuses who think the same thing,” I winked and pulled him across the threshold of my apartment. “Can you drink?”

“Probably not wise,” Bruce declined. I nodded and grabbed us both a bottle of water, and shooed him over to the couch. I sat down beside him and turned the TV on to something mindless before snuggling up right against him. I had knots in my stomach. I was never this forward with men. Ever. We sat in silence for a few minutes, and I took his hand in mine. He looked down at me and sighed, resignedly slipping his arm around me.

“This is nice.” It was almost a question. But I was insecure, so I had to ask. Bruce laughed.

“What the hell are we watching?”

“I have no idea,” I laughed. I sat up straight beside him and leaned forward, brushing my lips against his. He dropped his water bottle and brought his hand to my waist. My hands found their way up to his messy brown curls and I ran my hands through them, pulling him closer to me. Bruce ran a hand across my back and down the side of my hip, suddenly deepening the kiss and pressing me back against the cushions on the back of the couch. We slid down until he was on top of me, his strong fingers kneading my thigh. His mouth was hard against mine and I could feel my heart racing.

And then I could feel his racing too. It was accelerating dangerously, and I felt my own heart gallop to try to catch up. I drew in a deep breath through my nose, not breaking the kiss and concentrated on my heart rate, forcing it to slow like I used to when I played soccer. I felt a tingle of static across my shoulders, and then, a shock, like a million little snowflakes hitting bare skin, rocketing across my entire body and out, like the ripples in a pond. The very air around me felt electric. I pulled my mouth away from Bruce’s long enough to fill my lungs and I felt that energy pull back into me, leaving the room unnaturally still. My heart slowed, and then I felt a second heart, beating in rhythm with mine.

“What did you just do, Ella?” He breathed the words across my mouth.

“I don’t know.” A wave of dizziness crashed over me, and I pulled Bruce back to me, meeting his mouth with my own. His need was so raw I could feel it, marking my skin like the sun on a hot day. Everywhere he touched me was on fire. He pulled back again and looked at me, puzzled. His eyes were the same calm grey that they always were.

“You stopped me from changing,” he breathed, pushing up to his knees. I shook my head.

“No, I couldn’t have.”

“You did. You slowed my heart rate. You stopped the change.” He was pale, like he wasn’t sure if he should be amazed or terrified. Or a little of both.

“Maybe it was something else?” My voice was small. I had scared him, made him uncomfortable. He was going to get up and leave and it was all my fault. But it was also not my fault because I had no idea what I’d done.

“I need to go.” He pushed himself to his feet. I scrambled after him and followed him to the door.

“I’m sorry, Bruce, I –“ he interrupted me with a forceful kiss, pushing me hard against the wall beside my door. His hand raked down my side again leaving a tingling awareness of everywhere he touched me. He pulled away and stared at me.

“Don’t. Don’t apologize,” he ordered. “I just need to run some tests. Figure out what happened. This isn’t finished.”

“What isn’t finished?” My voice was barely a whisper. He pressed his lips against mine again.

“This. You. Me. Whatever is happening. It’s not over yet, Ella.” His breath mixed with mine and I leaned forward and tugged his lip between my teeth. He groaned and pulled away. “You need some rest, Ella.” He pulled open the door and slipped out, latching it quietly. I put my hand against the door and pressed my face to it. My breath caught and suddenly I was exhausted, yawning against my hand. I took a long, hot shower and fell into bed, asleep before my head even hit the pillow.

XXX

It had been two weeks since the incident with the kissing and the pulse wave, and whatever the hell happened with Bruce and I happened. Two weeks of him carefully avoiding me, two weeks of me spending my evenings munching popcorn on my couch, usually with Angela, deconstructing and reconstructing every moment of the damn kiss, right down to the electric shock that had run through my body.

“I don’t know, Ang, I think I should give up,” I sighed. “He’s not interested. If he were, he would have at least said something by now.”

“Give him a chance to try to figure out what is happening. You don’t want him to Hulk out the first time you’re in bed together. This is going to be slow, but he’s such a decent person. Be patient. It’ll be worth it in the long run,” Angela reassured me. We’d had this conversation about a dozen times. I sighed again.

“I see Thor more than I see Bruce,” I complained. “Maybe I should go for Thor. It would make the whole hammer thing a little less weird. And he’s hot.”

“He is your uncle! Grosso!” Angela protested.

“Not genetically!” I laughed. I was kidding. Thor was cool, but not really my type. He was too muscly and big and loud. My taste had always run to quiet and nerdy. And the uncle thing did kind of gross me out. Angela laughed and threw a handful of popcorn at me. I shrieked and tried to duck, and Angela threw another handful. As the popcorn hit me, an enormous crash occurred behind me. I didn’t think popcorn kernels were quite so powerful. My shriek of laughter turned into a shriek of fear and I covered the back of my head. Glass exploded around me, and I realized the window was breaking from an external pressure coming in, not from popcorn kernels hitting it.

Angela screamed and threw the popcorn bowl in the air, scrambling out of the living room over the back of the couch. She squatted by the kitchen island and peered around the corner. I turned to face the window that had exploded and screamed again.

There was a massive man, wielding a sword and round shield stepping into my apartment. He smashed the sword against the shield and roared. The hair sticking out below his helmet was loose and long and red. He had bracers on his forearms, but his huge upper arms were bare, and he had leather plate armour on, like he was some kind of Viking. My heart was pounding and I took a step back toward the kitchen.

“Run. Go get Thor. Or Tony. Or someone,” I whispered to Angela. The wind from the altitude of my floor ate the words, but Angela nodded and scuttled toward the door. The warrior screamed something in a language I didn’t understand and then smashed his sword against his shield again. I screamed, and scrambled over the back of the couch as he began moving toward me. A sparking streak shot past him and I felt the reassuring weight of Mjolnir in my hand. I took a defensive pose and waited.

“Come, fight like a warrior and earn your place in Valhalla!” he roared as he advanced on me. I shook my head and backed up into the kitchen island, using the opportunity to slip to the side of it, putting the structure between us. I felt like I needed to pee. Then I thought I might pee my pants. The warrior was bigger than Thor, broader through the shoulders, and the rage coming off him was palpable. It was, as far as I was concerned, the perfect time to put these apparent mood manipulation powers to work.

“Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts.” I murmured to myself as I kept my eye on the man.

Just as he threw himself at me, Thor barreled through my door. Again. Between him and Mjolnir, Stark Industries was going to be replacing a lot of windows and doors. I mean, I guess I bore some of the blame, subconsciously summoning the hammer every time I was in harm's way, but this was more than a little ridiculous. He threw himself between the warrior, and me and knocked the warrior back.

The man regained his feet and crouched in a defensive pose across us. He looked from Thor to me, confused, and dropped his sword arm. He stood straight, his brow wrinkled, and again looked between Thor and me. He took a step toward Thor.

"Uncle," he nodded, significantly calmer than he’d been even seconds before. My eyebrow raised and I relaxed just enough to pay close attention to the conversation that was about to occur between the two men.

"Leif," Thor acknowledged. "What is the meaning of this?"

"I sensed Loki's power at work on Midgard. It was weak at first, and I tracked it here. There I felt nothing. But then, a fortnight again, I felt it again and it was strong. I was worried he'd attained the Tesseract again. I came to prevent that, and found this woman.” The man Thor called Leif pointed at me. “Has Loki taken to shape shifting again? This one doesn't look like he did last time he took on the female form." Leif’s narrowed eyes appraised me. I felt very much like I had when Thor saw me naked, and blushed, despite being in my more concealing pajamas. I was struck with the overpowering urge to stick out my tongue at him, but held back. He was still holding the sword, after all.

"You are correct that you've sensed Loki's power, but it is only a hint of it," Thor explained. "This is Ella. Elizabeth Lokisdottir, meet my nephew Leif Lo-"

"Fandralsson. I did not know that Loki had been siring more bastards." Leif interrupted, his tone caustic. He rocked back on his heels and really looked at me. I felt small and dirty. I felt my cheeks redden and my temper flare.

"Excuse me? Did you seriously just call me a bastard?" My grip on Mjolnir tightened, and I could feel sparks coursing up my arm. Leif raised an eyebrow and smirked, looking from me back to Thor and to me again. A crack of thunder sounded above us. He looked at the hammer in my hand, back to Thor and out the window, finally making the connection. The smirk vanished.

"She wields Mjolnir?" The astonishment in his voice matched the blanching of his face.

"She is worthy." Thor's words were simple. Leif dropped to one knee in front of me, everything about his demeanour changing.

"I apologize for whatever slight I have caused, Ella Lokisdottir. If you are worthy of Mjolnir, you are far better than I," he held his sword out to me. I looked at Thor questioningly. Thor nodded and gestured that I should take the sword. I did.

"It’s Ella Carmichael. And thank you. I accept your sword?" I wasn't sure what to say. Thor nodded again. "And give it back? Just don't threaten me with it again." I pushed it back toward Leif. He lifted his head and smiled, just enough that I could see how handsome he really was. The guy was probably a lady killer on Asgard. He was easily as hot as Thor. Maybe a bit more. I handed Mjolnir back to Thor to show him I didn't feel threatened any longer, and he didn’t hesitate, but stepped close and wrapped me in a crushing, strong hug.

"I have always desired a sister, but my mother gave me naught but brothers." His tone had gone from rage to joy in the blink of an eye. It was kind of creepy. I pulled out of the embrace and shook my head.

"I don't understand," I said, holding him at arm's length. Leif blinked and looked at his feet. He took a deep breath, pushing it out forcefully. When his eyes met mine again, the storm raging in them was enough. I didn’t need to hear the story that followed.

"In our culture, we take the name of the man who raised us. Not the man who sired us. I am Leif Fandralsson, but I was once known as Lokisson." His voice was low and gentle and I could tell it pained him to share his secret. My brain was slow to process the information he gave me, and then suddenly I gasped.

"You're my brother?" I was astonished. I knew about the horse, and the snake, and the wolf, and the queen of the dead. I had no idea Loki had other children. Normal children. Well, as normal as a six-and-a-half-foot-tall-broad-like-a-barn-Asgardian could be, anyhow. I wanted to check him for horns, or a tail, or a melted face, or something. He looked completely normal. I began to hope that maybe not all of Loki’s children were monsters. Maybe I would turn out okay. He nodded.

"And you are my sister. Half-human.” There was awe in his voice. Like maybe he was thinking the same things that I was. “Your mother must be remarkable.”

#bruce banner x ofc

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