#can we agree that steves ending sucked?

[sp0o0kylights]

We often see Robin focused on her own love life (or lack thereof) while Steve collects more You Suck tallies on the board, but imagine Steve does find a girl he dates that he hits it off with?

He aces dates 1 through 5 and suddenly he's around a little less, his new relationship looking serious, and Robin isn't jealous but--

She is worried.

That's her best friend. Her platonic soulmate!

She doesn't think Steve would ever stop being those things--Her dingus has a soft squishy heart under all that hair.

Problem is, Robin's seen this play out before.

Had band friends drift away because someone's dating someone else and suddenly they're all wrapped up in each other's lives, friends pushed to the wayside.

She doesn't say anything though. Knows how lonely Steve is. How much he wants (and deserves) a relationship.

Then the worst possible fucking thing happens: Steve's new girl telling him she isn't comfortable with Robin.

That she doesn't believe girls and guys can be "just friends" and would Steve please stop seeing Robin so much? Please?

Her friends even saw him taking Robin out to lunch yesterday and thought he was cheating!

Of course she knows Steve isn't cheating. He'll prove it to her, right? By letting Robin know they can only be coworkers? And their friendship?

Robin hears all this at her and Steve's next shared work shift, and she feels the floor of her world give out beneath her.

Fear and hurt crawling up her throat because of course Steve can't tell whatever her name is why Robin will never date him.

Of course this chick clearly isn't taking Steve's regular excuses as an answer, and--oh God, what if Robin is losing him, isn't she?

Then Steve's done talking, clearly expecting Robin to say something, and oops she may have been panicking and not listening there at the end but she manages a very choked up;

"I mean if you think shes like, the one..." because what is she supposed to say!?

And Steve, the only person Robin's met who craves a relationship as much as she does if not more, frowns at her with a bitchy little twist to his face and says: "What part of "so I told her that was ridiculous and we broke up" didn't you hear?"

Robin gasps a breath, the world stable once again. She doesn't know when she started crying but she does register Steve's panic when he clocks it, panicking and pulling her into a hug.

"Oh my God did you think I'd agree with her!?" He says and he sounds a little hurt about it, she'll have to fix that, but presently all Robin can do is cling to her best friend and sink deep into the knowledge that he really won't leave her.

Even for the things he wants in life the most.

[lexirosewrites]

We are so back!

Rejection sickness is probably my all-time favorite trope from Omegaverse and as suck I love to inflict it on my favorite guy, Steve.

His parents aren't around, he goes through a secondary pack breakup, his Alpha says she doesn't love him and then cheats on him, he gets the shit beaten out of him, and he becomes the only leader of a secondary pack of feral middle schoolers all in the span of about a year. Omegas crave stability and they need pack and by the end of season two, Steve has been rejected by an Alpha he had a quasi-bond with and put through a level of mental and physical stress most Omegas, most Alphas even, will never come close to experiencing in their entire lives before he's 18.

The whole thing results in a rapid and brutal drop the likes of which Hawkins general has never dealt with. One minute he's getting checked for a concussion and the next he's collapsing on the floor. When he wakes up he's disoriented, confused, in a shit load of pain and alarm bells are ringing in his ears for no discernable reason. His instincts are going wild and his body is pumping out obscene amounts of distress pheromones, calling for an Alpha to help him and the longer his distress goes without being answered the more he drops. The doctors and nurses are clamoring to get him hooked up with hormone stabilizers, but they can only do so much for an Omega this deep in a drop.

Eventually, they do stabilize him but it's not going to be enough to bring him back. The mixture of physical and emotional distress means his body is trying to shut down on all fronts, leaving him in a kind of limbo at risk of slipping away completely. The kids all come and try to bring him back with pack scents and cuddling but while it does help it's not enough to bring Steve all the way back, even when he's trying so hard to just snap out of it so he can be there for his pups.

The hospital tries to find him a suitable Alpha match to be his caretaker and walk him back from the edge, but his extreme state makes him highly sensitive to unfamiliar scents and none of them end up working out. In a last-ditch effort, the hospital reaches out to his former Alpha, Nancy, with the hopes that if the Alpha who triggered the drop takes care of him his Omega hindbrain will be convinced that they have been taken back and proven themselves a good Omega.

Nancy agrees, guilt-ridden by her part in Steve's condition even if she knows it's not entirely because of her rejection, agrees to try and bring Steve back.

It has the complete opposite effect. As soon as Nancy enters the room Steve starts making the most heartbreaking distressed sounds, whimpering and crying out and eventually starting to thrash around and aggravate his wounds in his attempts to hide away in the corner of his hospital bed.

Nancy is immediately ushered out while the nurses try their best to get Steve stable again, but it's not looking good.

Fortunately for them all, Alpha Eddie Munson happens to be at the hospital stopping in with Wayne who's visiting a coworker who got injured on the job. He's waiting out in the hallway giving them space when the most heartwrenching cries break the silence. His instincts immediately go into overdrive because that is an Omega in extreme distress and his Alpha needs to help them now.

He gets to the room at the end of the hall to see Steve Harrington of all people surrounded by medical staff all trying desperately to calm him down. Before the nurses can spot him and get him to leave the room Eddie is emitting calming pheromones on max and crooning into the room. The staff are preparing to haul him out when they notice that Steve is starting to settle.

The Omega has stopped his thrashing and I looking at Eddie with big, pleading eyes. He looks at the Alpha like he's water in the desert, the one thing he's been searching desperately for. Eddie doesn't know Steve all that well but seeing the way the other Omega starts reaching for him from his sick bed he doesn't hesitate to push past the hospital staff and scoop the Omega into his arm.

Steve immediately buries his nose in Eddie's neck to get as close to that perfectly comforting scent as possible. It isn't long before he's sobbing with relief into Eddie's shirt. Finally, finally, a safe Alpha has come to help him. Eddie holds him and coos at him while he gets it out, snarling at the medical staff when they try to get close enough to check on their patient. Eventually, Steve's sobs taper off into soft whimpers which turn into sleepy purrs and kneading hands.

Eddie ends up staying with Steve, keeping him stable through the rest of his recovery. He never leaves Steve's side, and by the time Steve is finally ready to be discharged from the hospital Eddie presents him with his first courting offer, his mother's ring which just so happens to fit perfectly on the right finger of Steve's left hand.

if disliking omegaverse whump, omega drops, rejection sickness, and hurt/comfort is wrong, then i don’t wanna be right🥺

[steddiealltheway]

“We shouldn’t do this,” Steve pants against Eddie’s lips, rushing to kiss him again as Eddie pins him further against his front door.

Eddie breaks the kiss with a hum, pressing another kiss against the corner of Steve’s lips and across the two moles of his face before kissing down his neck. “We really shouldn’t,” Eddie agrees, voice low before he softly bites at Steve’s neck.

Steve groans as his head thuds back against his front door. “This is such a bad idea,” he breathes out, closing his eyes as Eddie sucks a bruise into his neck.

“The worst,” Eddie says, pulling back with a wet smack to admire his work before pressing his thumb against the sore skin.

Steve bites his bottom lip and pulls his hands away from Eddie’s waist. “We should stop.”

Eddie nods and takes a few steps back away from him. “We should.”

Steve stares at him for a moment nodding. Really it’s for the best. There’s no way they’d work out. And Steve isn’t really one for flings anymore. He wants the real deal. And Eddie doesn’t want that. He’s sure of it. And if they were to cross this line any further, Steve wouldn’t be able to stop himself from crossing it again.

Steve’s eyes track down to where Eddie’s chest is heaving up and down as he stares at him, hair slightly wild from where Steve’s hands were before. Then, Eddie slowly wets his lips, and Steve’s done for.

They both move together as if an unstoppable force is controlling them, crashing their lips together as their hands roam freely, Steve’s hands smoothly gliding against Eddie as Eddie’s nails scratch over him. Steve can’t get enough of it.

Eddie pulls away and grabs Steve by the shoulders. “Wait, wait, wait. The kids. We can’t do this to them.”

Steve nods. “Of course we can’t. They’d freak out if they found out.”

“So we should stop.”

“Definitely.”

They both stare at each other, eyes searching the other’s to find some hint of reluctance and give. Eddie’s hands slowly slip down Steve’s arms as he pulls away from him again.

As soon as Eddie’s hands leave Steve’s body, Steve reaches out and latches onto them. He shrugs. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

Eddie’s eyes light up as he smiles, moving forward to kiss Steve again, but this time, Steve can feel him smiling into it. He practically melts when he realizes it, but quickly pulls away again. “Wait.”

Eddie fully stops and stares at him with no hint of frustration which warms Steve’s heart. Steve sighs and rests his forehead on Eddie’s shoulder. “We should stop while we can.”

Eddie tilts his head down and pressed a soft kiss against Steve’s head. “We should.”

Steve squeezes his arm and steps back, trying to even out his breathing as he walks Eddie to the door.

It’s a strange deja vu that accompanies the walk, mirroring how they ended up like this in the first place. Eddie had stayed behind to help Steve clean up after the kids left, and as Steve walked him to the door, they both lingered in their goodbyes. And then something broke between them, and Steve’s unsure who kissed who first.

But as Steve’s hand finds the door handle again, he finds himself hesitating. Eddie smiles shyly at him and pulls a strand of hair in front of his face. “I guess this is goodbye.”

Steve nods and pulls the door fully open this time. “Thank you for helping me clean up and… everything.”

Eddie chuckles and buries his hands in his pocket with a shrug. “Anytime.”

Steve swallows, wanting to take him up on his offer and turn anytime into right now. But he just steps back and says. “Goodbye, Eds.”

“Bye, Stevie,” Eddie says, walking through the door and offering him a slight wave.

Steve returns it before softly shutting the door. He thuds his head against it and takes a deep breath. It’s for the best.

But is it?

How are they going to navigate things from here? It’s not like Steve will be able to easily forget this; he’s always going to long for this. And the bruise isn’t going to fade in a day. Will it remain as a torturous reminder of what could’ve been?

Steve sighs. “Fuck this,” he says pulling the door open only to find Eddie on the other side, hand raised as if to knock.

Eddie hurriedly says, “I can’t just… we can’t. This is…” He steps through the doorway and cups Steve’s face. “I can’t pass up this opportunity. Not when I’ve waited forever for this.”

Steve’s brows furrow. “Waited forever?”

Eddie huffs out a humorless laugh. “Steve, I’ve liked you for so long, and I don’t care if you don’t want more. It’s pathetic, but I’ll take what I can get. And if that’s just friends with benefits then-”

“What?” Steve asks, overwhelming confused and rushing to catch up.

Eddie sighs and rests his forehead against Steve’s. “Just kiss me again please.”

Steve takes a small step back and watches as Eddie’s face falls. “No, no. It’s not… Eddie, you like me?”

Eddie shoves his hands in his pockets. “I won’t ever mention it again. Don’t worry. I should go.”

He turns to leave, and Steve rushes to grab his arm. “Stop. Wait.”

Eddie hesitantly turns to him with regret and embarrassment written all over his face.

“Eddie, I like you, too. I thought you would want this to only be a fling which is why I said it was a bad idea. I knew if I let myself cross that line with you, I could never go back.”

Eddie pauses and steps closer to him. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” Steve states as he reaches out to grab Eddie’s hand, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles. “And I’d really like to kiss you again. Go on a date even. Maybe even fall in love or something,” Steve says with a laugh.

Eddie laughs and rushes forward, pulling Steve into a tight hug. “God, I never thought this was possible.”

“Me either,” Steve confesses, pulling Eddie in tighter.

They melt into the hug and slowly pull back, moving in naturally to kiss each other, sweetly and slowly now that they have all the time in the world. And they’re going to use it well.

[moonstruckme]

My stomach hurts so bad!! I feel so sick Bb do u think u could write a fic with James or Steve with a super sick gf???

I'm sorry about your stomach babe! Hopefully you're feeling much better by now, thank you for requesting

cw: food poisoning (no vom or anything, just mentioned)

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 615 words

You whine, curling in on yourself like you can squash your insides into numbness. “I feel so gross,” you whine. 

“You are pretty gross,” Steve replies, knuckles running up and down your arm. 

You look up at him from where your head rests on his lap, appalled. “You’re not supposed to agree with me!” 

“What?” Your boyfriend gives you a disbelieving look. “I didn’t say you were hideous, but you are definitely grosser than usual. Like, if we’re taking you on your best day, this is at least thirty percent more gross than that. I can’t agree with that?” 

“No!”

“In that case, I think you’re delirious with fever, babe. I never said anything about you being gross.” 

Despite yourself, a reluctant little chuckle puffs out of you. Steve grins. 

“Even if you were gross,” he drags his palm down the length of your back, letting it curve over your hip to your thigh before starting back in the other direction, “you’d still be way hotter than anyone else I’ve ever seen. It’s only fair that you get gross every now and then. You know, to make everyone else feel better.” 

“I don’t think everyone else is that worried about it,” you say. 

“That’s where I think you’re wrong. Think about it: we eat at the same place we go to all the time, and only you get food poisoning? That’s not chance, that is a planned attack.” 

You look up at him amusedly. “You think this was an assassination attempt?” 

“I mean, without the killing part, probably, but yeah.” 

You hum, settling back in on his lap. “You’re starting to sound like your nerd friends.” 

Steve’s mouth drops open playfully. “I am not! And anyway, if you tune out Wheeler’s brother, sometimes they’re making some good points.” 

You start to smile just before another cramp seizes your middle, rolling through you with a wave of nausea. Steve’s grip on you tightens as your eyes screw shut. 

“Shit.” He sounds part sympathetic and part like he might be in pain himself, one hand worming underneath your arms to rub at your stomach. “I’m sorry, baby. I know it sucks. All we can do is ride it out, and it should be gone by morning.” 

You make a small, distressed sound. “We don’t even know if it’s food poisoning.” 

“Nah, it is.” 

Steve’s massaging helps, and gradually the pain lessens. You take deep breaths until you can think clearly again. 

“How are you so sure?” you ask him. 

He shrugs. “It’s just the only thing that makes sense. You’re just getting whatever it was out of your system. You’ll be good as new soon, just you wait.” 

You shoot him a dubious look. “What, you think you’re a doctor now?” 

“No, but I kinda look like I could play one on TV, right?” At your bewildered silence, Steve goes on, his hand still moving gently over your stomach. “I’m just saying, have you ever seen those soap operas in the hospitals? If they came out to Hawkins to do their casting calls, I’d be snatched up in a hot second, babe.” 

You study him. Steve is undeniably handsome, this isn’t new information. He has a firm brow paired with sweetheart eyes and mussable hair, plus a classical sort of bone structure that’s humanized by the odd blemish or mole. Nice skin and a nicer smile. Good hands, too, one of which is currently caressing your hurting stomach while the other plays with the ends of your hair. 

“Nope,” you say, completely lovestruck. “I don’t see it.”

“That’s okay.” Steve gives the pudge of your stomach a gentle squeeze. “It’s just the fever getting to you again.”

[acowardinmordor]

You Left Me - You Miss Me - Six

Sup, I finally wrote the next part. Mostly because of someone trying to find it via the fic finder blog, which gave me a big ol spike in anxiety about the lack of update.

Part One .... Part Four - Part Five

---

“Rob, no.”

“Don’t you tell me ‘no,’ Steven Dingus Harrington!”

“You can’t drive to Hawkins and kill the guy.”

“Oh yes I can! I'll take your bat with me!”

“Babe, you still don’t know how to drive, and I have work in the morning so I can’t take you.” 

“I’ll figure it out on the way!”

She wouldn’t. She wasn't going to drive to Hawkins. She would definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent kill Munson if she had the chance and Steve didn’t talk her out of it, but Robin wasn’t going to leave him alone when he’d had a breakdown an hour earlier. She wouldn’t let him sleep alone for the next few days, and she would go to work with him in the morning, and she’d probably skip her Stats class so she could stick by him after work too. 

It took Robin about thirty seconds to realize something had happened. 

That was the gap between her opening the car door, and Steve speaking. All he said was “hey, Robs” and she cut off her ramble about chlorofluorocarbons. The same way he could tell by the sound of her stirring soup, or which color eye shadow she wore, she knew immediately something had happened. 

She touched his arm.

And he had a breakdown in the college parking lot. 

Steve updated the tag on the side of the box and put it back on the shelf. He was,technically, working. Robin was ranting and using a tie-dye shirt as a prop. 

“You don’t need to crash our car trying to go kill a guy I’m not even mad at.”

“Ugh,” she flapped the shirt at him and slouched against the edge of the shelving unit. “Why not? Why are you not mad at him? How? I’m mad at him! He took the kids away from you! They’re annoying little shitheads but you loved them and he jus---”

“Rob,” he interrupted softly. He couldn’t get into that side of it right now. 

“Sorry. Sorry. But you’re not this nice, Stevie. You’re wonderfully bitchy and petty and it’s one of my favorite things about you, and I don’t get this. He sucks! This was super shitty! Why aren’t you mad at him for being an asshole?”

“It’s not his fault.”

“He said it was his fault!”

Eddie blamed himself, and maybe it was his fault, but it didn’t matter. Not in comparison.

“Are you going to inventory anything tonight, or is this just going to be me?”

“No! And why are you working?”

Because if he stopped, if he let himself turn his full attention towards it, he was going to fall apart again, and stupid as it was, checking inventory used up just enough of his focus that he couldn’t drown. Steve flicked through the stack of size smalls, and wrote it down on the list. “Uh, because we’re at work?”

“We both work tomorrow tonight and there is no way that Mary or Nick have ever looked at the stock sheets in their life, they aren’t going to look tomorrow either. No one will know.”

“I’ll know.” He glanced up to make eye contact for a second, and she caved with a groan. 

“If you were anyone but my soulmate, buddy…” She folded the shirt terribly, shoved it into the gap between the cardboard and the other shirts, and finally closed the box. 

Letting the silence settle gave Steve a minute to breathe, and reset himself without the rising tension. She knew that, and waited until, unspoken, she knew he was ready to keep going. 

“Steve.”

“I am mad, Robs. I am. You know that it’s.. At the kids, and at Hopper, and at myself for agreeing to this stupid idea, but I’m not mad at him.” 

“Why does he get special treatment?”

Hearing how that sounded, he tried again, “No, uh. I’m mad at him, but, like, the same way you get mad when the grandma in the crosswalk is going really slow and then drops something and goes back, and you end up stuck waiting again even though you should have made it through the light before. Yeah, it sucks, but it’s not like grandma was doing it specifically to fuck with you. She’s just, you know, shopping or whatever. 

“It wasn’t like there was a friendship there that he betrayed. He did something for his own life and it was sorta sucky, and it sucks for me, but he feels really shitty about it, so I don’t think he meant for them to, you know, vanish.”

Robin thumbed down the stack of Levis, whispering the count as she went. Three more sizes got counted before she responded. 

“You carried him out of there. You saved his life.”

Steve hummed absently. “He wasn’t bleeding that bad. His trash lid kept most of them off. I panicked when I saw blood and picked him up.”

“And that doesn’t make you friends?”

“It’s not like I only saved him because it was him. Not like I stopped and thought about whether I should get the bleeding guy to the hospital. Lifeguard, remember?” 

The other half of the thought, he bit back. He’d had nightmares about Billy after Starcourt. Dreams where he could have saved him, and didn’t. Where he could have saved Max from having to see that, having to recover from that. He saw Eddie bleeding, he saw one of his kids screaming, and there wasn’t a thought in his head. Just the need not to let it happen again. Not again. Not Dustin too. 

He kept his eyes on the inventory form so she didn’t see that part. 

“Still think it should have mattered more. Life saving creates friendships.”

“He was unconscious. I know you don’t know much about how guys act with each other, but generally both dudes are awake when they become friends.”

She snorted at his weak joke, throwing her pencil at him. It wasn’t anywhere near her. 

“New record, champ,  that one wasn’t even close enough for me to pretend to dodge it.”

“Ugh, I hate you.”

“Love you too, Robs.”

He got through a full set of kids dress shirts in peace, counted and listed. Then he pulled down the crate of kid’s dresses, next on the list to check. 

The whole can of worms would tear open when, if, when Eddie showed up with something from the kids. There was no version of that day that wouldn’t end with him falling apart. If he skimmed them, if he burned them, if he read them, if he wrote back, if he refused to take them at all, it didn’t matter. He was going to fall to pieces. 

If they wrote and it was real, if it was petty, if it was anger, if it was grief, if it was gloating he was gone, if it was begging him to come back, if it was proof that it was always fake, always a temporary placeholder until they found someone they actually like. The imminent breakdown was going to be bad no matter what. 

Like those safety videos in school about seat belts. 

Like knowing the car crash was coming, knowing it couldn’t be stopped, and knowing that nothing he did was going to make it any easier to bear. Slow motion, watching a car come -- a beat up old van come towards him. No time to put on a seat belt, no way to brace for it, just accept that it was going to happen and hope you survived.  

Robin cleared her throat to get his attention, and Steve blinked back to himself. 

“Did, uh, did you say something?”

Robin watched him for a minute. He let her this time. It was easier to let her see what he was feeling than try to turn it into words, and he needed her to let it go for now.. 

“I’m going to skip my bio lecture on Friday afternoon.”

“Birdie, you don’t--” 

“You are going to call in sick at the skate rink. We are going to make snickerdoodles and brownies and the cracker bark thing, and order pizza, and we’re going to make ourselves sick eating too much, and we’re going to watch some random movie on mute and make up our own story and dialogue. Got it?”

“Got it,” he smiled.

And it wasn’t going to make it all better. Eating two pounds of butter in a day wasn’t going to make it easier when Eddie showed up, but it was like hitting pause on that video. Car crash was still coming, but he could look away for a while. 

***

Steve clung to the pass shelf from the kitchen as the expected car crash hit him on Monday. John, always eager for the chance to throw someone out of the diner, looked over Steve’s shoulder. It was a nice moment. A nice little thought before he had to face what he’d agreed to. If he asked, John would throw Eddie out. Literally. Nice image, but not the one he got to see.

Instead, he declined the offer, and grabbed the plates. 

“Gimme a minute,” he mumbled to Eddie, heading to the sweet elderly couple celebrating the birth of their second granddaughter with a leisurely breakfast. If he spent an extra minute talking to them, complimenting the polaroid of what seemed to be some kind of mashed potato swaddled in white and pink, it was to get a good tip, not because he was stalling. 

Eddie hadn’t moved when he got back. He was a step back from the counter, stiff, holding a paper grocery bag under one arm, eyes trained on the ugly teal of the stool’s seat.

“Well?” Steve asked bitchily, “Did you bring milk and eggs and bread, honey?”

He put it on the counter, clutching the folded top hard, like he was making sure it stayed shut. 

Like it was full of spiders or something. Mutual sentiment.

Steve grabbed it, tossing it onto the shelf where they kept personal belongings and the leftovers they’d called dibs on. He hadn’t expected Eddie Munson to be up to Franklin at eight am on a Monday. Eddie wasn’t a morning person. Steve thought he’d have a few more hours to brace. Now he had to deal with customers while that bag burned a hole in the back of his head. 

Luckily, Rebecca was serious when she said he could get mean with guests if he wanted to. Today wasn’t a want. It was going to be a necessity. 

Eddie was still standing there. 

“You can tell them I got it, or whatever,” he tried to dismiss him.

Something that looked like the tortured remains of a smile flickered on Eddie’s face. He gave up after a second and nodded too many times. “Thanks. Thank you. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, right?”

It took a minute for Steve to catch up to the question. 

“I haven’t said I’m going to answer them. Or open them. Or keep them.”

Eddie was quiet for a minute, still not looking up, and Steve’s Travel-Size-Robin was vibrating with the need to make him so they could guess what the hell he was thinking. 

“Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday mornings?” he repeated. 

“Yeah. Sure, yeah,” Steve gave up. 

Eddie left, and Steve did the entire day’s front of house prep before Susan got in, trying to keep his head away from that damn bag. 

***

Steve didn’t open it. 

He fell asleep in Robin’s bed, grateful he didn’t have other work that evening, and doubly grateful when she made him eat some crackers and drink some water before they passed out for the night. 

If he was waiting for the impact the day before, seeing Eddie again the next day was so unexpected that the crash whooshed past him without an impact. He didn’t sit down, and he looked a little rough, probably from driving to Franklin in the early morning twice in two days. 

“Do you have…?”

“No? No,” Steve boggled at him, “How could I have anything for you to even -- No. Man, no.” 

Eddie nodded. 

Eddie left. 

***

Steve stared at the bag instead of taking a nap before their shift in the stockroom. Didn’t open it, that was way, way beyond him, but he did manage to look directly at it, and it was only a few saltines, but he did successfully eat. 

Robin, angel, light of his life, soulmate and perfect person got in the car after class, handed him a kinda gross protein bar that she stole from an athlete in her class who she didn’t like, and made him eat it. 

She didn’t make him talk about the bag shaped elephant in their apartment, and she spent the entire shift explaining the way Ann Carson’s translations of Greek plays had totally shifted how people read them, making them more accessible, and how the push to do the same with Shakespeare was incredible. 

When he went to crawl into his own bed that night, she grumbled, brought her favorite pillow, and climbed in after him. 

***

Eddie walked in at quarter to seven, right after three four tops seated.

“No.”

“Okay. Yeah.” Eddie looked small, probably because he was speaking at a normal volume, sounding like a normal human, which ran opposite to how Eddie was in Hawkins. He also looked like crap. 

“Why are you here, dude? You hate mornings. You don’t have to leave that early, I work until one.”

Eddie scrunched his face, but didn’t answer that. 

“No?” he asked instead.

Someone at table six shouted ‘waiter!’ 

“I’ll bring your coffee in a damn minute!” Steve yelled back, half turning with the carafe in his hand.

“Steve?”

“Look, I don’t have anything for you. Nothing. You don’t need to waste your time. I haven’t opened it.”

“There’s more than one -- oh,” Eddie scrubbed over his face. “Okay. Yeah. Okay. Do-- Are you going to? Open it.”

Thinking about opening it made him want to run away to Canada. 

Thinking about never knowing made him want to puke. 

Whatever weird face Steve made was something Eddie could translate. He only raised his head for a moment, just long enough to look. But then he covered his face with both hands, taking a deep breath that shuddered on the exhale. 

“See you Monday,” he said as a goodbye.

“Where’s my coffee?” the same guy yelled. Steve didn’t have the energy to deal with customers and whatever the fuck was going on with Eddie’s early morning emotional mess. 

“Wait a second,” he complained to both of them at once. Steve grabbed one of the big mugs, the ones they used for the expensive hot chocolate, filled it with coffee, and set the pour jar of sugar next to it. He looked from Eddie to the cup, pointedly. “Don’t crash. Bring the cup back with you.”

The asshole yelled for him again, and Steve turned on the terrifyingly polite smile that Robin had helped him hone. Then he deployed it on the asshole at table six. 

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

We are headed towards Steddie, on a path that will, hopefully, not feel like I brushed off all this to get there. However. Wow, they're hurting right now. You can't have Eddie's pov yet, it would spoil things, but. just. trust me. ow.

Still don't do tag lists. Once I know how many parts it'll be, this will go to Ao3, promise.

[adverbally]

Think of the Tender Things

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “‘Keep breathing, please.’” | wc: 773 | rated: T | cw: hospital, premature baby | tags: adoption, new parent anxiety, hopeful ending | title from “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” by Simple Minds

———

The NICU has its own window, far enough from the regular nursery to seem intentional. It makes sense to Eddie, theoretically speaking— keep the preemies and the sick babies away from the healthy ones so the comparison isn’t so startling. It just doesn’t work that well if they have to walk past the full-term nursery anyway.

They pause to observe the fat, happy newborns who will be going home in the next day or two. They’re all chubby cheeks and chunky limbs, round little tummies swaddled tightly with matching caps on their heads, just like the parenting books advertise.

Steve’s hand squeezes his, and Eddie knows he’s feeling the same thing: that’s how it should’ve been, and all of the guilt and fear and bitterness that goes along with that line of thinking.

They keep walking down the hall until they reach the door indicating the special care nursery. The glass there is smaller, since fewer babies fit in a room when they’re surrounded with incubators and ventilators and monitors galore.

The second bassinet from the right has a card with a stork that says “Baby Boy Munson” and wow, that’s going to take some time to get used to. Eddie gets closer, almost pressing his nose against the glass, to get a better look.

“He’s so small,” Steve says beside him. “I figured he would be, but…”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. It says right there on the little card: three pounds, thirteen ounces. Sixteen inches long. Not the smallest baby there but noticeably smaller than the ones they just walked past. “A lot of hair, too.”

“Yeah.”

They’re quiet after that. There’s not much they can comment on before they have to acknowledge the fact that they’ve just become adoptive parents a full two months ahead of schedule.

Their son (holy shit) seems even smaller with the tubes and wires obscuring him. Eddie identifies an oxygen cannula, a feeding tube, chest leads, an IV, and a blood pressure cuff, plus a few other lines he doesn’t know the purpose of. When you factor in a diaper that seems to dwarf half of his tiny body, there’s barely any skin visible. And from what Eddie understands, they’re lucky that more serious care isn’t necessary.

“Thirty-two weeks. That’s not… it could be worse,” Steve said after they got the call from the adoption agency that morning. The whole drive to the hospital, he rambled about lung maturity and the suck/swallow reflex and birth weight, going into one of Eddie’s ears and out the other as he tried to focus on the road.

Steve was the one who read all the books. Even the parts about premature births and what could go wrong throughout the pregnancy. “I’d just rather know and be prepared,” he explained. “Just to cover our bases.”

Eddie had skipped those chapters. It felt like bad luck, like tempting fate or something, as if avoiding it would prevent anything from happening. In retrospect, he wishes he had more of a clue about what’s going on, what their future will look like.

Any future seems far away when the present is so uncertain. Eddie watches his son squirm, with his too-long limbs and his too-big head, and he watches his chest rise and fall with each breath. His tiny lungs are working and he’s moving and none of his machines are beeping, and that has to be enough for now.

Just keep breathing, please, he thinks desperately. Keep growing and getting stronger and we’ll worry about the rest later.

When Steve breaks the silence, his voice is small. “Do you think we can hold him? Or, or touch him, at least?”

Eddie doesn’t want to. He knows it’s just his anxiety talking, but he’s terrified that he’ll pull some essential line or do something wrong. He was supposed to have another two months to prepare for this. How do people prepare for this?

“Ed, are you okay?” Steve’s voice startles him back into awareness.

“Yeah, just…” He pauses to think about how to say it without alarming Steve. He settles on, “I’m scared.”

Steve throws his arms around Eddie’s neck and pulls him into a tight hug. “I’m scared, too,” he confesses in a whisper. “I think we’re gonna keep being scared for the next eighteen years, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do it.”

Eddie tucks his nose just under Steve’s ear and breathes him in, sweet shampoo and hints of spicy cologne in the collar of his jacket. They stay like that for long moments before Eddie sighs and pulls away with a decisive nod. “Okay. Let’s go meet our son.”

[sidekick-hero]

I'm a fool (for you)

Written for the Stranger Things Writers Guild daily drabble, prompt was 'meet ugly'. I don't know what happened here. warnings: implied cheating (not steddie) | tags: meet ugly, hurt Eddie, emotional hurt/comfort, love at first sight with the worst timing, hopeful ending | 1.2k | AO3

April is Eddie's favorite month.

Winter is finally over and spring is breathing life back into the world. With the colors of spring, happiness seeped back into people's hearts.

As Eddie walks home from work, whistling his favorite tune, his heart swells with it. The sun still shines brightly, a gentle breeze carries the scent of cherry blossoms from the nearby park, and tucked in his pocket is his very first bonus check. He can't wait to tell David, the exhilaration of a beautiful day gives him hope that maybe they can have a nice evening with some wine and dinner before falling into bed together. It's been a while, and he knows it's partly because he works so much, but lately he feels like he and David are drifting apart.

Determined to surprise David with some quality time together, Eddie plans to come home early. Perhaps they could even use the extra money for a vacation, he thinks with a smile on his face.

Filled with hope and happiness, Eddie opens the door to their apartment, only to be greeted by a sight that shatters both.

A stranger, clad in nothing but black boxer briefs, stands in their bedroom doorway.

"I'm such a fool," Eddie murmurs, blinking at the unexpected sight of an almost-naked Adonis standing in the doorway to the room he shares with the man Eddie thought loved him.

The stranger mirrors his shock. "You're not David.”

A mirthless laugh escapes Eddie's lips. "No, I'm Eddie. His boyfriend. Or rather, ex-boyfriend. Guess he forgot to mention me, huh?"

When the man just buries his face in his hands and groans, "I'm such a fucking fool," Eddie almost feels sorry for him.

Almost, because it's his heart that's just been broken.

"Looks like we both are," he agrees with the stranger. He really is beautiful. Eddie can see why David went for him, he just wishes he hadn't.

"I swear, I had no idea David had a boyfriend or I never would have gone home with him. I'm so, so sorry."

The guy looks sincere and Eddie believes him. After all, it was David who decided to trample on their relationship. It must suck to be drawn into the drama of Eddie's imploding relationship, less cause and more casualty.

Closing the door behind him, Eddie steps fully into the apartment. "I believe you -" he pauses here, waiting for the man to tell him his name.

"Steve."

"I believe you, Steve. Where's David, by the way?"

"Buying condoms," he admits sheepishly, and Eddie rubs his hands over his face.

"Of course. How awfully considerate of him." Steve winces at Eddie's tone, but he's too tired to care. He takes a moment to think about what to do next. "I think it's best if you get dressed and leave now, I doubt you'll want to be here when David gets back. To be honest, I don't want to either, but I guess there's not much of a choice."

Steve looks at him silently for a second before turning and going back into the bedroom, presumably to get dressed. Eddie sighs and heads over to the kitchen to make himself some coffee. He's going to need it.

He's thinking about where he could stay tonight when Steve comes into the kitchen, now dressed in tight, light-washed Levi's and a white shirt that looks painted on. Eddie can even see the dark chest hair through it.

It's hard not to hate Steve for making Eddie feel even more inadequate.

"I know you want me to go, but if it's okay with you, I'd rather stay? Just to make sure you're okay. I've been cheated on before and I know what it's like to feel like the rug has been pulled out from under you. You shouldn't have to deal with it alone."

It's hard to hate Steve when he's so kind to Eddie.

"Do I look so pathetic that I need the man my boyfriend cheated on me with to comfort me?" He spits, more out of self-preservation than anything else. Anger is so much easier to deal with than heartbreak.

Steve's response, however, is gentle. "You look like someone just broke your heart and you could use a friend. It doesn't have to be me, I can take you to one of your friends. I just don't think you should be alone right now." With that, Steve walks over to the coffee machine and pours out a cup. "Sugar? Cream?"

Eddie plops down on one of the kitchen chairs in defeat. "Both. More sugar."

Steve prepares their coffee and then they wait for David to get back. When he does, clearly shocked to find his boyfriend and his hookup in the same room, they both confront him. Steve has Eddie's back the whole time and gets downright mean to David, while Eddie is mostly tired and disappointed. After their confrontation, Steve waits for Eddie to pack some of his things and, as promised, drives Eddie over to Chrissy's apartment.

They park in front of her building and Eddie thanks Steve for everything he's done for him, but before he can get out, Steve takes Eddie's hand and squeezes it.

"I'm really sorry, Eddie. Nobody deserves to get cheated on and I hate that it happened to you. I can understand if you want to be mad at me or forget I even exist, but if you ever need to talk, even if it's just about how small David's dick is, I'm here, okay?"

In the palm of his hand, Eddie feels a piece of paper, and he's pretty sure it's Steve's number.

"Why?"

Steve reaches over and tucks a lock of Eddie's hair behind his ear. "You'll probably think I'm weird, but I feel like I almost know you. It sounds crazy, I know, I know. I can’t explain it. I just want you to be happy, and I can't help but want to be the person who makes that happen."

At Eddie's stunned silence, he hastily adds, "Oh God, I sound like a crazy person. Or worse, a psycho stalker. I promise, I'm neither. And that's exactly what a psycho stalker would say, for Christ's sake. Please say something before I put my foot any further in my mouth."

This makes Eddie laugh again, and this time it doesn't sound bitter. Just a little confused, but mostly fond.

"Thank you, Steve. Really. I appreciate it. You... I have no idea what I'm feeling right now, or what I'm going to do, but you've made this totally fucked up evening suck less, and for that alone I don't want to forget that you exist or be mad at you. I just need some time, y'know?"

Steve's smile is warm, if a little sad. "I do. You should. Take your time, I mean. I really wish we'd met differently."

"Me too. Believe me."

Eddie starts to get out of the car again, and this time Steve doesn't stop him. Just watches him, his hazel eyes shining brightly in the light of the street lamp.

"Take care, Eddie."

"You too, Steve."

As Eddie climbs the stairs to Chrissy's apartment, he saves Steve's number in his phone.

[notafunkiller]

you were mine just yesterday - co-written with @marvelouslizzie

Summary: It's been a while since your break up with Bucky happened, but you're still not over him. You try to move on, go out, and have fun with your friend, Steve, but you end up in the same bar you two went to often. It also just happens that Bucky is there too, with Natasha by his side. It doesn't take long for you two to end up getting into old habits.

Pairing: exes!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word count: 10.7K

Warnings: 18+, second chance romance, teasing, dirty talk and pet names, language, jealousy, fingering, nipples play, oral séx (the reader receiving), choking, clit play, metal arm, no condom (but they are both clean and the reader is on birth control), aftercare, alcohol (but she is not even tipsy), death mention, no mention of y/n.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission! I really hope you’ll enjoy it, I can’t wait to read what you think.

The screams he hears when he opens the door and holds it so Natasha can get inside first already make him regret agreeing to this. He absolutely hates crowded places, but at the same time the food is great here, and it's literally one street away from his apartment, he can suck it up a little.

“Come on, I'm starving.”

Bucky looks around, trying to spot anything and anyone that could be suspicious, but everything seems fine.

“You can't relax even for a second, can you?”

He rolls his eyes, but right before he can comment something sarcastic in return, he hears it... your laugh, followed by a strong smell of cherries, and he immediately looks toward the bar. There you are: dressed in a lovely shirt and your favorite pair of pants, with a huge smile on your face. You look out of this world but you aren't alone, no. His stomach aches at the sight of you sharing drinks with his fucking best friend as if nothing else matters.

“Bucky?” Natasha's voice isn't enough to make him tear his eyes off you. “Hey! You said you're starving.”

“What the fuck is this?”

Bucky’s voice doesn’t go unheard by Steve.

“Oh shit,” he mumbles. “Bucky is here with Natasha.”

The moment you hear Natasha’s name you feel like someone punched you in the guts. You instantly start looking around and it doesn’t take long until you finally see them together, standing there and looking for a place. Bucky with Natasha… Why doesn’t that surprise you? A better question: Why does it hurt that much to hear it? You should have expected this.

“We should go and say hi. They're staring.”

“Is this a fucking joke?” Bucky finally looks at Natasha with a deep frown. “Did you know this?”

“Know what?”

He finds it hard to speak as if something was stuck in his throat. “About... them.”

“I didn’t know they would be here.”

Bucky seems like he doesn’t know what to do. He's trying his best not to have a breakdown right then, because how could this happen to him?

“Maybe we should leave,” you say to Steve, feeling uncomfortable already. You are in no mood to watch Bucky and Natasha together. But when you make a move to stand up, Steve gently touches your hand to stop you.

“You can’t run away from him forever.” He’s right. You can’t. You don’t feel like facing them today, but you shouldn’t be the one running either. You slowly sit back down, feeling grateful that you aren’t alone.

“Can you suck it up a little, Barnes? I won’t act like I didn’t see them just because you can’t face your ex, who, by the way, is still our friend.” Natasha rolls her eyes at him, hiding her smirk and starts to walk toward the bar. “Plus, they look like they’re having fun.”

You notice Steve smiling, but you have no idea why. When you see Natasha coming toward you and Bucky following her like a puppy, you understand and try to fake a smile, too, before taking a big sip from your drink.

“Hi. What a coincidence, nice to see you here.” Natasha leans in to kiss Steve on the cheek, then you after you let the glass on the table.

“Hi,” you force the word out of your mouth as nicely as you can. It’s not that you dislike Natasha. On the contrary, you find her a smart, well-traveled, obviously, woman. You liked her opinions in most of the conversations you had, but it doesn’t mean you aren’t jealous of her when she’s around Bucky because of the same reasons.

“So nice to see you, Natasha.” Steve keeps the conversation going. “Bucky!” He tilts his head just a little to see him behind Natasha.

You don't dare to look, though. Your hands are already sweating. Seeing him so close would make your state even worse.

“Steve.” You close your eyes instinctively at the sound of his voice, but you open them when he mentions your name too.

“Hi.”

“What are you having? This looks sooo tasty.” Natasha has always been good at making conversation regardless of her feelings, and you never wished more than then to be like that too.

“Oh.” Steve casually stirs his drink with the cocktail pick. “It’s a cherry cocktail but it’s not on the menu.”

“Of course.” Bucky steps aside from behind Natasha and comes closer to you with a serious, unreadable expression. “The famous cherry cocktail.” His tone is dripping in sarcasm as he leans in and, without any warning, he takes Steve's glass and downs it in three seconds. “Less flavor than usual.”

You don't realize the death glare you're giving Bucky until you feel Steve's hand on your skin, probably trying to calm you down. You can’t believe his audacity. This is the man who broke your heart and left you and he thinks he can just come here and act like this? Hell no!

Bucky's eyes fall to your arm and leans in again, placing the empty glass down and taking two cherries from the cherries glass.

“It’s fine,” Steve says in a way that is extra calm.

“Yeah, it is fine.” You find yourself agreeing immediately. “I can get them to make you a better one.”

“Well, I am curious now.” Natasha gives you a warm smile. “Or do we interrupt something?”

“I can order you one, as well, if you want.” You offer with a fake smile on your face, ignoring her implication. You can feel Bucky’s gaze on you even though you aren’t looking in his direction.

“No need. Come on, Nat. I’m starving.”

Nat…

“You sure?” You are only looking at Natasha and ignoring Bucky. “I can talk to the bartender and he can bring you the cocktail. He’s a good friend, he wouldn’t mind.”

Bucky puffs, shaking his head.

“You okay, Buck?” Steve can't help but ask.

“Yeah, are you okay?” You try to look as casual as possible.

“If I weren't, would you offer me a drink made by your good friend, too?” His eyes and voice don't tell you much. He asks you this in the most casual way possible. Even Natasha looks surprised.

“I think you need something stronger.” Your eyes are wandering to Natasha for a second. “Since you already tried it and didn’t like the cherry cocktail that much.”

He shrugs, not denying what you said despite it being a huge lie. Then he smirks and looks at Natasha and Steve. “I assume you don't mind us joining you, right? I'm starving.”

Of course he doesn’t ask you. He knows your answer and still decides to do this. Okay, if that’s what he wants…

Steve turns his head to you, asking you indirectly if this is okay, and you nod, trying not to look affected. Especially when he sits next to you with Natasha on his left.

You instinctively move away from him and closer to Steve.

Bucky starts to take off his jacket as he speaks. “I'm not gonna eat you, you know?”

“Hmm?” You give him a look.

“I'm not into human meat, don't worry.” He takes off his gloves. Your eyes immediately fall to his hands and you feel the sadness spread inside you. It’s so overwhelming to be around him, yet you don’t want to give him the pleasure of seeing how hard this is for you.

“I’m aware. I’m just more comfortable like this.” You reach for your drink and take a sip, turning your attention to Steve. “Should I order a new one for you or would you rather drink something else?”

Bucky puffs. “He can order for himself. He is over 100 years old, doll.”

You ignore Bucky’s comment and look over to Natasha. “Do you wanna try the cocktail, Natasha?”

She hesitates, looking at you and at Bucky, and you try not to roll your eyes.

“Do you have any suggestions with strawberries? I love strawberries.” She points to Steve. "He does, too."

 “I’m more of a cherry girl, but we can ask my friend. I’m sure he has some good suggestions.”

“Such a close friend”

“Yeah.” You ignore Bucky and raise your hand. The bartender gives you a smile before coming closer.

“Hey. Is everything alright?”

“Everything is fantastic. I just need another one of these.” You raise your nearly empty glass. “And Natasha wants to ask for your recommendations for a drink with strawberries.” You point at her while saying her name.

He gives a few options and both Steve and her agree on one.

“What about you?”

Bucky looks at him bored. “A burger: chicken, extra pickles, please.”

“Any drinks?”

“Your cheapest beer will do.” You respond instead of Bucky, and he immediately gives you a questioning look and lifts his eyebrow. But he doesn’t seem to care, and the bartender just nods and leaves.

 “So,” Natasha starts. “For how long have you two been hanging out?”

Steve looks at Bucky. “We never stopped hanging out.”

“Why would you?” Natasha winks at you, and Bucky feels he is going crazy. Many images of you and Steve laughing, walking together, even kissing take over his mind.

“Exactly.” You smile in response.

“What about you two?” Steve asks with a mischievous smile on his face.

“What about us?” Bucky asks immediately, giving Steve a hard look. “Do you want to gossip with the ladies present?”

 “That never stopped you before.” You didn’t intend to say it out loud, but it’s already out there.

Bucky's head instantly turns to you. “What?”

“I said that never stopped you before.” It’s too late to back out so you decide to go for it. Bucky usually doesn’t care who is around. He says what he wants to say when he wants to say it. So your presence shouldn’t stop him.

“I heard you the first time. I was waiting for additional explanation.”

“Oh, good. I thought your hearing was getting worse for a sec.” You just look into his eyes. “You always say what you wanna say. So why would us being present stop you now?”

“My senses are perfect, thank you for your concern. Natasha and I are hanging out, too, obviously.”

Your bartender comes back with the drinks and that stops the conversation. He puts your drinks by one by, saving Bucky’s beer for the last.

“We’re out of our cheapest one so I brought the second cheapest. I hope that’s okay.”

 “I'll survive,” Bucky murmurs.

“Your burger is coming up in five minutes.” And with that remark, he leaves you four alone.

“This tastes amazing,” Steve smiles, squeezing your hand, and Natasha immediately agrees.

“Yeah.”

“Glad you like it.”

“Want to try it, Bucky?” She asks him with an innocent smile, which makes your blood boil.

Bucky shakes his head and drinks from his bottle. “Ah, this tastes too expensive.”

“You’ll survive,” you whisper, imitating his tone.

“Oh, I will.” He gives you the most charming smile you've seen in a while and takes your glass to take a sip.

“Will you stop drinking other people’s drinks without asking them?” You can’t hide how done you are with his entitled ass.

 “You'll survive, I'm sure.” He mocks you without a care in the world. You can feel the tension increasing, but you have no idea what to do. You can’t control your reactions, and he keeps pushing you.

“Oh, I will, but…” You move closer to him just a little. “If you need… you know… some help you can have a drink on me.”

 “Hmm.” He chuckles and moves closer, too immediately catching on to what you meant. “Don't worry about it, I am sure Nat would cover me.”

“I am sure she would.” You smile back, fighting the urge to roll your eyes and break the glass into tiny pieces, so you just put your drink in front of him. No way you are gonna keep drinking that.

“Hey, Adam!” The bartender looks at you from a bit far away. “Same drink, please.” He winks first and then nods.

Bucky frowns and downs the drink, trying to look unaffected. “You had no problems sharing drinks with me before.”

“Now I’m more careful about what I put into my body.”

Steve tries to mask his laugh by fake coughing, but you notice anyway. So Bucky must do it, too.

“I can see that. You don't mind sharing drinks with my best friend now.” He gives you a bitter smile for the first time in ages. The way he emphasized the word drinks makes you wonder what’s running through his mind.

Adam comes back with his burger and side dish, and you feel your mouth water. “Enjoy and let me know if you want anything else.”

Bucky takes a big bite from his burger as you reach out to his fries and take a couple without a care. If he can freely drink your cocktail, you can steal some of his fries.

Natasha and Steve look at you surprised.

“What are you doing?” Bucky asks, chewing loudly on purpose.

“Taking some of your fries.”

“Thought we don't share drinks and food anymore. We moved on from that. We passed that stage.”

You remark his and Natasha's closeness again and feel your blood boil.

“So it’s okay for you to do it, but it’s a problem when I do it?” Yet you take another fry and put it inside your mouth, looking directly into his eyes. You want him to know this is not about fries or sharing stuff.

Bucky's surprise is visible all over his face. He's simply speechless even after Adam brings you your drink and you give him a forced smile.

“Thanks, Adam,” You say like everything is fine. “I will use the restroom. Would you keep an eye on my drink for me, Steve?”

And you leave without waiting for an answer.

You go to the restroom, lock your door and sit down. You just need a minute alone because all of this is too much for you. Seeing him with Natasha tonight is hard enough, but he keeps challenging you. He acts like nothing is changed, but everything changed when he decided to walk away. Even though you don’t wanna admit it, your feelings for him are still there and they’re making everything harder.

You take a couple of deep breaths and remind yourself this was going to happen one day. It just happened to be today and you can get through it. You’ll be fine.

You get up, unlock the door and just wash your hands, splashing some water on your neck, too, before you look at yourself in the mirror. At least you are looking alright.

You jump when you hear the door opening and turn around just to see Bucky locking the door again.

“This is the ladies’ room!”

He looks at you as if he can't understand what you're saying.

“I said this is the ladies-”

“I heard you the first time. What the fuck do you think you're doing?”

You puff. “I should be the one asking that question.”

“I am not here sharing drinks with your best friend, am I?” He walks toward you.

“No, you are here with Nat.”

Bucky washes his hands in response, not understanding how you can compare Nat with Steve. You are here on a date with his best friend.

“Have fun with Nat and stay away from my drinks.” You leave the ladies’ room, but he’s right behind you.

“I wasn't finished with you.”

“That sounds like a you-problem. I have a drink that’s waiting for me.”

“Just be honest and say Steve is waiting for you.”

“Just like Nat is waiting for you.” You look like you are tired of this conversation already when you snap.

“Are you having fun, doll? Are we bothering you? Did you want to enjoy your date all alone?”

You make a face when you hear the word date. So that’s why he was acting like that. He thinks you are on a date with Steve. “What I do with my life is none of your concern! Just go and enjoy your own date.”

“None of my concern, right?” His calm facade is finally falling. “You are on a fucking date with my best friend!”

“Oh, so that’s why you decided to be an ass? Because you think Steve picked up the toy you threw away?”

When he gets so close to you, you feel like you're suffocating. “Careful.”

“Or what?”

“You forgot what happens?”

“Oh,” you say in a mocking tone. The audacity he has! “Well, too bad you don’t get to do that anymore.”

“Does he do that?” He closes his eyes, still too close to you. “Do you let him touch you? Is this why he isn't around?”

You raise your hand instantly, wanting to slap him right there for crossing a line, but you manage to control yourself, remembering his past. You see him closing his eyes instinctively and you sigh. You might be mad at him, but you wouldn't hurt him like this. He is not a bad person… And you don’t wanna bring his trauma back.

You take a deep breath and retreat your hand.

“Maybe he isn’t around because you are an ass, did you consider that?”

“Why him?” He opens his eyes. “I would take all of your slaps instead of living through this.”

He sounds so weak, and tired, and sad. There is a part inside you that gets angrier because he thinks so low of you, but there is another part that understands and wants to assure him you would never do that to him.

“Why him what? I’m not dating your best friend, Bucky. Pull your head out of your ass!”

He freezes. He really freezes and lets out a deep, deep breath as if he's been holding it for a long time. His forehead drops until it meets yours, and you gasp surprised.

“I was going insane, baby. I felt like my life was just...”

You take a step back, not letting yourself enjoy his touch or his baby. “It doesn’t change the fact that you are here with Nat.”

“What about Nat?”

“What about Nat?” You repeat his question. “Did you forget she’s waiting for you? Or the fact that you suddenly left me? Me not dating Steve changes nothing. So stop calling me baby or doll or whatever charming pet name you come up with.”

Bucky laughs humorlessly as he shakes his head. “You think I'm really with Nat? You think I could ever replace you? That I'd even try?”

“Then why the fuck did you leave me?” You are so close to shouting, but you still don’t want people to hear you. Your eyes are getting filled with tears.

 “Why do you think, huh? Do I look happy to you? You think I'd leave you to date Romanoff?”

 “Why not? She’s perfect!”

Bucky looks at you dumb-faced. “For who? For what? Why do you...”

“For you! You two are a perfect match!” You take a breath, trying to contain your emotions. You don’t want to cry in front of him.

He is instantly touching your arms again, making you shiver. “Why would you say that?”

“Because even if you aren’t dating now, you will realize how perfect she is for you eventually. So go back inside. Don’t let her wait.” You sniffle, your head is slightly shaking because of all the emotions you are holding back.

His flesh hand grabs your chin and you feel his hot lips on top of yours before you can react.

The way he kisses you makes you wanna cry even more. It reminds you of everything you tried so hard to forget yet never managed to…

Even though you want to give in, you take a step back. You can’t handle another heartbreak.

“Don’t…” The tears start to fall down. “Just don’t.”

“Do you not want me?” His eyes are teary, too, and there is nothing to hide anymore. But he can't ask this, he can't do this to you. He is unfair. He left you, he broke it off. He...

“Do you have any idea how much you hurt me?” You try to dry your tears with the back of your hand. “You can’t just come back, kiss me and expect everything to be fixed!”

 “I am so fucking sorry, baby. I wasn't trying to hurt you.” He stops himself and sighs. “I really don't deserve you. I keep making you cry.”

“Saying sorry isn’t enough, Bucky. What did you think would happen when you left me? Did you think it wouldn’t break my heart? Is this what you want to hear? That you broke my heart when you left me? Here! I’m heartbroken because of you. Happy now? Can we go back inside now?”

“I just wanted...” He shakes his head, wiping off his tears. “Let's just get inside.”

“What did you want Bucky? Tell me. What did you wanna hear?”

“I'm not worth it, that's fucking clear. I am sorry for this whole mess I brought into your life.”

“Don’t ever say that!” You angrily point your finger at him. “You know how much I think you deserve. This is solely about you leaving me. You made that decision, remember? I opened my heart to you and you left me! Don’t make me feel guilty about getting hurt.”

 “Don’t you realize how dangerous it is?” He says desperately, looking you in the eye. “I would get you killed... we all would...”

“Really? Is that why you left me?” It angers you more than you imagined. This is probably the worst reason he could give you. Like you were safe before meeting him. As if he didn’t save your life.

“Bucky?”

You jump when you hear Natasha.

“What?” He snaps, looking at her. There is nothing in his eyes that can be even close to desire, you notice.

“Are you gonna come back or should we leave and let you cry for the rest of the night?”

“No, Nat, we're leaving.”

You grab Bucky’s arm and drag him out despite the shocked look on Natasha’s face, and Bucky just lets you.

“Pay the check. He's gonna transfer you the money for our order later,” you say casually while half of the restaurant looks at you.

Steve throws him his leather jacket without hiding his smirk, and Bucky catches it, giving him a typical Bucky look without saying anything.

“Where are we going?” Bucky finally asks when you’re outside and you let go of his arm.

“Your place obviously. Did you walk or took the motor like a lazy ass?”

Bucky rolls his eyes and puts on his jacket. “I walked.”

“Fine. So we are walking back to your place then.” You wait for him to move as he laughs and shakes his head.

“What?”

“You said that when we met too.”

You roll your eyes. He’s always been a stubborn ass. You remember him insisting the serum will do its job and he’ll heal faster, but you couldn’t just let him bleed, so you had to drag him to your place. “Just walk.”

“Bossy.”

“If I remember correctly, you said that when we met.” You don’t wait for him and just start to walk, trying not to think about what he said.

You miss his huge grin and his boyish look, but you hear his footsteps. He reaches your side in no time. “I missed you.”

You close your eyes for a second and try really hard not to say you missed him too. “I can’t do this again, Bucky. I can’t get my heart broken for the second time.” You sound like you are in pain.

He nods. “I didn't even think you’d want that.”

“I just don’t understand what you are trying to do.”

“You deserve to know the truth and the context, so you can stay away from us for good.”

You huff, but you don’t say anything. You two walk in silence for a while and luckily it doesn’t take more than five minutes to arrive at his place.

You get to his door and the familiarity is killing you. So many memories come to your mind and you're not even inside yet.

When you finally step in, it's like time has not passed: the TV, the couch... except for the sheet. The sheet is back on the floor.

“Are you sleeping on the ground again?”

Bucky sighs, taking off his shoes. “Can we ignore that? Let's focus on your questions. Do you want a glass of water?”

“Answer my question while pouring me a glass of water then.”

“The man who almost killed you when we met?” He opens the fridge and takes out the water bottle before directly handing it to you. “He's a part of the new wave of Hydra.”

You look at him, feeling completely confused. You don’t even notice the water bottle.

Hydra?

 “They might know about you...” He bites his bottom lip entirely, showing his frustration. “We managed to take a few down. They are careless as fuck, so young and dumb.” He just puts down the bottle on the kitchen counter.

 “You… left me… because you think they are after me because of you?”

Bucky looks away. “Does it matter?”

“Isn’t that why I am here? Because you wanted me to know the truth. So just tell me. Is that why you left me?”

“He knew your name, where you work, your family.” Bucky pauses, trying to control his anger. “He knew we were together. I have no idea how because you know... you know I never let my guard down. And what if they’d have gotten you? What if they do? You need to stay away from me, us.”

He can’t believe Steve or the rest thought it’s okay to continue to be around you.

“So you decided to leave me alone, be a more vulnerable target. Good job Bucky! Very well done!” You start to clap. “You are the dumbest person I have ever met.”

“Do you honestly think I left you unprotected?” Bucky puffs, as if he can't believe you'd ever think that.

“Then why did you have to leave? What was the point, huh? If they already knew all that stuff about me… about us… What the fuck was the point?”

“What if they kidnap you or kill you just have me back?”

You sigh. “You know that’s always a possibility in our world right?”

He hesitates before speaking. “What if they trigger me?”

You take a frustrated deep breath. There is no way they can do that again. No way! But if he thinks that, then it means he doesn’t trust himself or his skills. Again. “You accepted the defeat already.”

Bucky snaps immediately. “Do you not understand I could kill you? I could kill you and not even...” He closes his eyes unable to look at you as he speaks. He could not recognize you. He could make you suffer in the worst possible ways if you were his target.

“This is why I said you accepted the defeat already!”

 “I could kill you...” Bucky repeats so shaken.

 “You wouldn’t.” You’ve never been more sure in your life.

 “How do you know that? I almost killed everyone...”

 “You didn’t kill Steve.”

Bucky gets closer again, shocked by how calmly you talk about his worst nightmare. “I can't risk that. I cannot risk your life.”

 “So you would rather leave me alone and heartbroken.”

 “Yes.” His answer comes instantly. “If you're alive, that's-”

 “And go back to sleeping on the ground!”

“It's not like I sleep much anyway.” The way he says it... like it's not a big deal at all amazes you.

“You know what bothers me about all of this? Something I didn’t think you would do...”

“What?”

“You took my choice away.”

Bucky is shaking when he hears you, completely taken aback.

 “Instead of telling me about all the risks, you decided on your own. I would never do that to you.”

“I dreamed about this. I... I saw you,” he pauses. “I was choking you."

 “Not something you didn’t do before.” Your response comes instantly, without much thinking because the tension is killing you and you want to lighten the mood a little. “Choking, I mean.”

And he smiles. You make him smile and it feels like you won the lottery. “You quite liked that.”

“You did, too.”

“I did, you were very pretty.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

Bucky sighs, not knowing what to say. “I'm sorry for putting you through all of this.”

“There’s something else you should also apologize about.”

“What?”

“For taking my choice away...”

“I am sorry for that,” he says instantly. “But I don't regret it. I made the right choice.”

“If you don’t regret it, we don’t have anything to talk about. I don’t need your sorry.” If he doesn’t regret it, what’s the point of this conversation?

“Your life is worth everything to me." His voice is so soft as he speaks.

“I understand that, but it doesn’t make it any better.”

“I am sorry for not telling you." He keeps apologizing.

“You don’t regret it, though. So… I don’t know where to go from here. Maybe I should go.”

He tries to hide his disappointment. He's being unfair and he knows it. “If that is what you want... let me grab the hamlets and I can give you a ride.”

“I don’t need a ride.” You don’t want to be that close to him on his motorcycle. You can handle yourself. You wish things were different, that he had told you the truth. You would have to make him see things from your perspective, but he didn’t share anything with you. He pushed you away completely.

“No fucking way.” Bucky shakes his head. “You should know this by now.”

“You’re not my boyfriend anymore so you don’t have a say.”

“No,” he simply responds.

“The sooner you accept that you have no say in my life anymore the better.” He can’t keep acting like he’s a part of your life. You understand his fear, his good intentions, but he refuses to see the whole picture. You’re not safe either way and he still protects you. He could have done it and still be by your side.

Bucky comes even closer to you. “It's not safe. Did you not hear me until now?”

“So dropping me off is somehow safer? Do you ever hear yourself? You told me you left me because my life was in danger and you don’t regret breaking my heart. And now you wanna drop me home and make me a target again? Is sleeping on the ground killing your brain cells too?”

“I have a fucking metal arm.” He raises his left arm. “I didn't mean just Hydra's dumb men. I mean normal dumb men too.”

“I did not forget that you have a metal arm, but you did since you broke up with me. And you apparently also forgot that I can handle dumb men all by myself. You chose this! You had your reasons, I get it, but you can’t just come back whenever you feel like it, okay? You can’t go all passive-aggressive like you did to Steve because I am on a date. You can’t offer to drop me off. If you’d decided to get out of my life, stand by that choice. Since you don’t regret it, it shouldn’t be that hard.” With every sentence, your anger is rising. You don’t realize you say the words like you’re spitting them out.

“I did not mean it like that.” He ignores the comment about how you can handle yourself because there are limits to that. “I regret not being with you, deciding that for you if that's what you mean, but I don't regret making this choice for your own good. And you would have gotten bored of me anyway. I have too much baggage, too. You shouldn't have to deal with this shit."

You shake your head, absolutely crushed by his words. How can he think he’s so hard to love? How can he… “If lying to yourself helps with sleeping at night, go for it, but that’s not the truth.”

Bucky sits down on the couch. “You cannot deny I am right.” He sighs. “Let me call you an Uber at least.”

“You want me to lie and I can’t do that, Bucky. You were the love of my life. I would never get bored of you.” You don’t know why you are saying all this. You thought and think about him constantly. He wasn’t just your boyfriend, he became your best friend.

You can see the surprise and happiness all over his face right away. He's glowing.

“You were mine, too, I hope you know that.”

“I didn’t. Not until now.” You bite your lip, trying to hold back your tears. It’s just so hard.

“I wish things could be different, but I promise I'll keep protecting you.”

That makes something inside you snap. “It could’ve been different! But you chose this!” Your anger is suddenly pouring out. “I don’t want your protection. You are either in my life or out of it. There’s no in-between. Do you understand me?”

“No.”

“God, I hate you so much! I hate how stubborn and stupid you are! I hate that you never listen to me! I fucking hate how you make me feel!”

Bucky stands up. “Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think I don't want to talk and hold you and make love to you? Do you think it's easy, huh? No! But someone has to make these decisions! I won’t let you die because you're stubborn.” He's so red and angry. “I am not worth it.”

 “For fuck’s sake! I’ve had enough of this, okay? One second you tell me you have to stay away and another that you wanna make love to me. You treat me like shit and then kiss me! Why do you do that, huh? Why?” You don’t wait for a response, letting out everything you have been holding in. “I don’t fucking care if it’s easy or not. You know why? It wasn’t my decision. YOU DIDN’T LET ME CHOOSE YOU. So if you are suffering that’s on you, pal. My suffering is on you, too. Now get out of my way. I wanna go home.” You try to breathe and control your anger again, but it feels impossible.

“What do you want me to do? Risk your life?”

“I want you to get out of my way and stay away from me. I’m done with talking, arguing, and crying.”

“You won't see me.” He looks away as he promises you that, and you feel like crying more than ever. That's it? “But you have to promise me you won't see the others.”

“The others?”

“Natasha, Steve, Sam. We are all the problem.”

“Oh, hell no. Fuck no! No!” You point your finger at him, angrily. “You don’t get to decide shit anymore. Especially not about my life. You are done with making choices for me!”

“Did you not hear what I told you tonight? They should know better. I will have a discussion with them about it too. They are so stupid-"

“I don’t fucking care. Should I spell it out for you? Would that make it easier for you to understand? I DON’T FUCKING CARE! You don’t want to be in my life, fine. Your decision, but them… I’m not giving up on anyone.”

“Why are you so fucking stubborn? We are talking about death and life.”

“I made that choice the day we met, okay? When you fucking saved me. I’m way passed that point. They are my friends, too, and they will stay that way. This conversation is over.”

“I'll call you an Uber.” He murmurs, knowing continuing this would not a wise decision. He expected more from Steve at least. He knew how dangerous this is. At least Sam and Natasha seemed to understand.

You’re surprised when you see him suddenly giving you a funny look. “What?”

“I can't believe you really thought I could be with Natasha like that.”

Of course this would come and bite you in the ass!

 “I always thought you two would be a good match.” That was always on the back of your mind, thinking if they gave it a chance it would work amazingly. She is beautiful, powerful, lethal… and Bucky deserves the best. Seeing them together double hurt.

He gasps as if he can’t believe this. “What?”

“Why are you so surprised?”

“We were together and you thought I could ever replace you with her?” He sounds hurt and confused at the same time.

 “Yeah. I was sure that would happen one day.”

He stares at you completely blank for a while and you don't know what he's thinking. You were honest.

“And you say I gave up on us? You thought I am gonna-”

“It doesn’t matter, Bucky, okay?”

It does, actually, very much, but you’re so tired and hurt and simply without energy.

“Fuck it.”

You don't expect him to take you by the back of your neck and kiss you, surprising you for the second time on the same night. You don’t understand why this set him off or what he’s trying to do. All you can think of is how much you missed this.

He whimpers when he realizes you don't reject him and licks your bottom lip.

You wanna cry. You wanna hit him. You wanna push him away, but you also want to keep kissing him. You hate how conflicted you are feeling.

He closes his eyes, letting you go. “I don't know why I...”

You know how that sentence would end. You don’t need to hear it. He doesn’t know why he can’t stay away from you.

“So you are really that dumb.”

He stares at your lips. “Fuck, maybe I am.”

 “You definitely are, but I am dumber.”

You grab him by the collar and kiss him again. He doesn't hesitate to open his mouth and let your tongue find his, his hands grabbing your ass and bringing you so close that you feel his hard-on.

“Fuck.”

Everything feels overwhelmingly familiar and you missed this so much. You missed his lips, his taste, his touch, his smell… You grab his face with both of your hands and kiss him however you want, however you need.

“No one can replace you, alright?”

“Then what is the point of all this?” His face is still between your hands. “You want us to live in agony for the rest of our lives?”

“I just want to keep you safe, baby.” He kisses your palms. “I really don't want to risk your life. I couldn't survive!” He's haunted by that image of you dying, him killing you… He wouldn't be able to move on with his life.

“But I don’t wanna live like this.”

“How do you want to live?” He finally asks.

“I wanna be with you, Bucky, but you don’t let me. You don’t let me have you. You don’t let me move on. How am I supposed to live like this?”

 “You want someone else?”

 Seriously?

“I said all of those things and that’s what you heard?”

“I heard you, but it's all a mess. I am a mess. I would understand.” His tone is ice cold. He's so frustrating.

You grab his face with one of your hands again and force him to look you in the eye. “Would you really understand?” You question because you are damn sure he wouldn’t. “You would rather have me forgetting all about you and moving on than being with me?”

He seems to think intensely for a couple of seconds, contemplating, imagining different scenarios. You can feel his jaw clenching and you bite your lip.

“You know there is no turning back then, right?”

You don’t understand what he means. “Turning back from what?”

He kisses you as if that is the only answer he can give you. And kisses you. And kisses you until you feel the salty taste of his tears.

Your heart breaks seeing him like this. So vulnerable and tormented. You break the kiss, look at his face, and you feel yourself tearing up.

 “You're so fucking stubborn, baby.”

 “So are you.”

Bucky smiles, kissing away a few tears on your cheeks. “Can I have you?”

“You gotta work for that.”

That doesn’t seem to deter him. “Yeah? Good, I love working.”

“Yeah? Because it’s not gonna be easy.”

Bucky smiles sadly. “When do I like it easy?”

“I mean it, Bucky. You have to earn my trust back.”

He takes a step back. “And I mean it, I'm here to prove that. I know what a hard and long process it is, and I would never leave you alone again unless you are tired of me. I will protect you with my life, I promise.”

You can’t believe the switch he made. Finally!

“Good. Now come and kiss me because I missed you.” You finally admit it out loud. He’s being vulnerable, so can you, but he hesitates a little.

There’s something in his eyes, maybe it’s the willingness to do anything to earn your trust back, including holding back and waiting, but you don’t want to wait.

“I said gaining my trust will take time. I didn’t say I wanna wait, Bucky.”

“What's the difference?” He’s reluctant, not wanting to make another mistake.

“The difference is I am horny.” It’s been too long. You can’t hold back anymore.

A playful smirk takes all over his face as he comes closer to you. “Are you now? And what can I do about it?”

“I don’t know. What can you do?” You dare him like you don’t know all the things he can do.

“Depends.” His hands grab your neck softly.

“On what?” It’s astonishing how easy it is to fall back into habits.

“On the limits you want to set.”

“You know my limits.”

He looks at you surprised. “But do you trust me with this?”

“My trust issues aren’t over this, and you know it.” He always knew when and where to stop. Never made you feel unsafe. Your only problems are the way he left you and how his actions hurt you.

“Intimacy means a lot of trust,” he says but brings his hands down to your shirt anyway.

 “I know. If you didn’t turn into someone else during the time we were apart, I trust you with this.”

“I don't have protection.”

You give him a look. “If you don’t wanna do it that’s fine.”

He snorts, literally ripping your shirt in half, buttons flying everywhere. “Yeah, I totally don't.”

His actions don’t surprise you. You are used to him ripping your clothes. You just look at your teared-away shirt, amused.

“Sounded like many excuses to me.”

“Do you not see my fucking erection?”

You look down, smiling. “Oh, I do see it.” It’s not something you can ignore.

“You lied to me,” he says in a low voice, taking off your bra in a couple of seconds using his flesh hand.

“About what?”

“About Steve. You wanted to drive me crazy.”

“I didn’t say anything about Steve.”

Bucky raises his eyes from your boobs to your face. “You let me think you are dating him.”

“You assumed I was dating him because we were out together and he was trying my favorite cocktail.” You start to unbuckle his belt, incapable to wait any longer. You missed him and his cock so much you are aching. “Take off your shirt.”

Bucky groans in annoyance. “Don't remind me. You made it for him.” He sounds like a jealous kid. “Take it off yourself.”

 “Yeah, I was gonna make it for Nat, too.” You finally unbutton his pants and push them down without paying much attention.

Bucky laughs, tilting his head.

“What is so funny?”

He takes off his shirt. “Your voice is getting higher when you're angry.”

“And?” You raise an eyebrow, challenging him to continue.

“Did Nat piss you off or something?” He unbuttons your pants, too, as he asks.

“You piss me off.”

Bucky smiles. “You tend to say that a lot. Nat doesn't think that.”

“What does she think?”

He pulls down your panties and you're surprised a little. You expected him to rip them.

“I guess I don't piss her off.”

You grab his face and make him look at you. “I bet you are on your best behavior around her.”

Bucky bites his lip. “Maybe I am.”

“Now who is lying?” You grip a little harder.

“I don't know, doll. Who is lying?” He moans.

“You enjoy it, don’t you? Seeing me like this? Getting me all worked up?”

You feel his hands on your hips all of a sudden. “You're getting flushed when you're worked up. So beautiful.” He leans in, trying to kiss you, but you don’t let him. You push him back. “Couch or bed?”

“Couch, it's closer unless you want the bed.”

“If you fucked anyone on that couch, I’m not even going close to it.” You look at him in the eye while saying that. It makes your skin crawl.

He grabs your face. “If you think I did this, maybe we shouldn't do anything.”

“What? We weren’t together.”

“I see.” His voice is so low that you barely catch it. What you said goes both ways.

“Don’t go all grumpy and jealous again. I didn’t fuck anyone.”

He puffs relieved. “I'm not grumpy.” He kisses you desperately, though, lifting you at the same time until you wrap your legs around him, and carries you to the couch.

He sits down and his hands drop to his sides, letting you find a good position on his lap.

You push him on his back while trying to make yourself comfortable. “Lay down.”

 “I can't reach your tits from there.”

“Just lay down. You are gonna like this.”

He leaves a kiss on both of your breasts before doing what you said, waiting eagerly. You move closer and closer under your pussy is right above his face. He doesn't say anything, and quickly pulls you completely down as if you'd have changed your mind any second if he hadn't done it. You lose your balance for a second but quickly grab the arm of the chair for support.

His tongue is everywhere for a while before stopping on your clit directly. He teases you, though, licking around it, and you can't stand it. You move your hips, trying to get his tongue right where you need it, and he chuckles, sending small vibrations to your clit.

“Just stop teasing me,” you say impatiently. There’s no time for games.

You don't understand what he murmurs, but you feel his tongue finally on your clit at the same time he gets a finger inside you. That gets a loud moan out of you.

“It wasn’t that hard, was it?” You complain while he pumps his finger in and out.

You feel Bucky's vibranium hand making its way to your chest, and you gasp at the cold touch right on your nipple.

 “You always find a way to do what you want to do.” But you aren’t complaining. It feels really good.

He adds a second finger inside you just when you finish your sentence.

“Oh, fuck you!” You say after moaning loudly. He’s definitely doing this on purpose.

He doesn't hesitate to move his fingers in a fast pace, opposite to the way he is using his tongue, which you know he does on purpose. Old habits...

“Just lick it properly if you don’t want me to torture you later.”

He pinches your nipple in response.

“Just stick your tongue out.” You move yourself a little bit away from his mouth.

He opens his eyes instantly and frowns. “What are you doing?”

 “Taking matters into my own hands.”

His eyes glow and he immediately opens his mouth, sticking his tongue out eagerly. Then you grab his hair and lower yourself onto his mouth, gently riding it.

Bucky moans, keeping his tongue as flat as he can. He can literally die like this and he'd be the happiest man on earth.

You slowly pick up your pace, listening to your body and the need to come grows when he moans just because you tug on his hair a little harder.

His fingers start to move again, surprising you since you're the one riding his face.

It makes your knees shake; it becomes harder to move for a second.

“Oh fuck.” You curse loudly. “I’m gonna- come.”

He whimpers in approval and adds a third finger out of nowhere. You can’t say anything. The only thing you can do is moan while riding his tongue. Bucky keeps the same pace, squeezing your breast at some point until you finish all dizzy.

You take deep breaths, still holding onto the arm of the couch. Then he grabs your hips, lifts you up and you find yourself on your back. You yelp because of his sudden move. He kisses you before you can say anything and spreads your legs at the same time. You feel the wet tip of his cock right at your entrance and you moan, giving him access to deepen the kiss while raising your hips slightly so you can feel more of him.

“That was so good. I missed you so much.”

You stare at his wet chin and cheeks and smile. Your face is now wet, too, but you don't care as you kiss him again. You kiss him until you feel breathless. Then you look at him, still high from your orgasm.

“I think I should’ve been the one to say that.”

“I missed you so much.” He repeats as he pushes inside you,

“Oh fuck.” It feels so good, even better than you remembered. “I missed you, too!” You sound breathless.

“I fucked my fist a thousand times thinking about you.” Hearing that turns you on even more.

“Yeah?” So you weren’t alone because you thought about him. Only him. “I imagined my dildo was your cock like a thousand times, too.”

Bucky's thrusts are finally getting faster. “Yeah? Was it good?”

“Some great some underwhelming orgasms. Yours?” You wanna know so badly.

“Nothing can compare to your pussy.”

“Not even another pussy?” You want to push him, so you don’t hold back your question.

He grabs your face. “I'm inside yours right now and you wanna talk about other women?”

“You know what I want to hear.” And it’s definitely not other women.

Bucky's eyes soften a little as he kisses your nose. “I haven't been with anyone else. And no pussy can compare to yours. No one can compare to you, stubborn little baby.”

You don’t feel any shame when a loud moan escapes your lips. That’s exactly what you wanted to hear.

“Harder?”

“Whatever you want.” It’s like your mind suddenly switched off.

Bucky brings his vibranium hand to your mouth. “Suck then.”

You don’t say anything, you just wrap your lips around his finger and start sucking.

“Good girl.” He starts thrusting a little harder, enjoying the way you look so out of your mind. “My good girl, taking my cock so well. Did you miss it so much?”

You wanna say something, but your mouth is occupied. So you moan instead.

“A fucking sight.” He groans, taking his thumb out of your mouth despite your protests. “Never letting you go.”

“Oh, you finally made up your mind,” you say in a mocking tone.

“Gonna choke you with my cock next and we'll… fuck! see if you'll mock me then, too.”

“You can choke me now, you know.”

Bucky brings his flesh hand to your neck instantly and you frown. As much as you enjoy him finally slowly returning to his own habits, he's still being careful.

“Really?” Your eyebrow raises automatically.

“What?”

“If you’re gonna hold back, maybe we shouldn’t do this.”

He sighs. “It's been a while, I don't want to hurt you.”

“Can you even hurt me?”

Bucky stops mid-thrust and raises his eyebrow. “What?”

“I think you might be getting old. Or maybe the serum is wearing off.”

You didn't expect him to bite it so quickly, but he does, grabbing your thighs and finally fucking you harder. “Gonna make you scream.”

“You are definitely getting old.,” you say half breathless.

“I won't make you bleed, baby. We can go harder than this after you get used to having sex with me constantly again.”

“I meant your memory.” He’s going really fast and it makes it harder to speak. “You forgot what I asked for.”

“Want me to choke you?” He moans, realizing what you mean. “Beg for it.”

“Just choke me, old man.”

He says something, but you don't understand what, and when you feel the cold metal on your neck, you don't even care. You close your eyes in pleasure.

“Like this? Is this what you want?”

“Yeah.” The words barely leave your lips. It feels amazing.

“No dildo can replace my cock, can it?”

“No.” You shake your head. “Nothing can.”

“No other man, either, right?” You feel his wet kiss on your neck. “No other super soldier. Not Steve.”

“Steve?” You can’t believe he’s actually asking this. Is he that jealous?

“No one else.”

You grab him by the hair and force him to look at you while you speak. “I don’t want anyone else. Do you hear me?”

Bucky smiles. “I don't hear you. Can you repeat it?”

“You bastard!” You smack his chest with a big smile.

“Bastard?” Bucky laughs, slowing his thrusts.

“Old bastard.” You laugh with him.

“Fuck, I'm gonna make your ass red.”

“Make me come first,” you say in a challenging tone.

He squeezes the sides of your neck a little harder than before and the pressure makes you dizzy in the best way. “You're so wet for me. So fucking wet and perfect for my cock.”

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. No words, not even moan. Bucky smiles when he feels your whole body trembling and a few of his hair strands fall all over his face. His flesh hand goes to your clit, circling it a couple of times in the middle of your orgasm.

“Oh my fucking god…” You murmur. It’s like your whole body is electrocuted.

“Can you take my come, baby?” He asks squeezing your neck a little more. “Gonna give it to you. Gonna...”

“Yes, please.” It is like a whisper, but you know he can hear you. “Please.”

That's all it takes for him to come. And come. And come. A lot, you can feel it filling you and probably dripping out on the couch because there's so much come. You kiss his forehead and hair, anything you can, still feeling out of this world. It's like you could fly.

You missed this... Feeling like being one with him. Sharing this high. It feels you with all kinds of emotions.

“God, I missed this.”.

“Of course you did.” You giggle.

“Did you not?” He fishes once again before bringing his head to your boobs and licking all over them.

“Fuckkk.” Your laugh turns into moaning. You want to push your breasts more into his mouth. “You have no idea how much I missed you.”

He sucks your right nipple in return. “Ihm.”

“If you keep sucking it I might come again.”

Bucky sucks even more, bringing his vibranium to your other breast.

“Move your hand on my clit,” you say after moaning loudly.

He does it quickly, making sure to tickle you before finally touching your clit. You giggle first, then moan when you feel his mouth sucking on your nipple while his fingers work on your clit. You close your eyes and let yourself enjoy this double stimulation.

“So soft.” You can barely understand what he says while still sucking. You take a sharp breath when your legs start to tremble. He's enjoying every single whimper of yours as he keeps moving his mouth and hand at the same time.

You love hearing the sounds he makes while sucking on your nipple. You run your hands through his hair and enjoy your high to the fullest until it feels too much. You grab his hair and move his mouth away from you.

“That’s… that’s… enough.”

“Why?” He sounds like a little kid.

“I’m… sensitive.”

Bucky takes his mouth off immediately with a pop and kisses you as an apology. You tremble under his touch once again, sighing right after it.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” It’s obvious that you don’t mind. You sound content and satisfied.

He completely gets out of you too while licking his finger. “Gonna get you a towel and a glass of water. And a blanket.”

“Why a blanket?” You look at him confused while Bucky stands up hesitatingly

“For you...”

“Did you sell your bed or something? Are we sleeping here?” You joke.

“I was gonna make you some fries...”

“Fries?” You straighten up a little, surprised.

“Yep. I think I have some pickles, too.”

“Okay.” A warm smile spreads on your face. This is the Bucky you remember. He smiles, too, and goes to the bathroom probably, but you hear his chuckle anyway.

*

“Come on, one more.” You try to force the fry inside his mouth, but he's a stubborn man.

“They are for you, baby. Eat!”

“If they are for me, I decide what happens to them and I want you to eat one more.”

Bucky rolls his eyes but takes the fry anyway. “Happy?”

“Very.” You take another fry and start chewing. “You know we should talk, right?”

“Well aware, yes.”

“Are we gonna or…” You’re hesitant because it feels good to be like this with Bucky after a long time, but you also know you should be talking and sorting things out.

“I was waiting for you to start.”

“The problem is I don’t know what to say.” Or where to begin. You feel like you’ve already said everything. Or better yet, you screamed it to his face.

“What do you want to know?”

“Are we trying again or are you gonna say this was a mistake?” It’s at the back of your mind. The fear of him leaving again…

“This could never be a mistake, love. I was simply trying to protect you the best way I knew. I will protect you.” He sounds genuine, but it doesn’t change how you feel.

“If you leave me again, it doesn’t matter why, you won’t have another chance.” Your tone is more serious than before. You want him to understand this. You can’t keep playing this back-and-forth game over and over again. You don’t believe in second chances, but this is an exception. The only exception you are ever willing to make because you understand his intentions, how his mind works, how his trauma still hits him. Dealing with Hydra again is a scary thing. You can’t imagine how he felt when he found out.

He looks at you so proud. “I know. I am lucky I got another chance in the first place. I am not even worth it.”

“Stop with the self-degrading talk, will you? I can’t stand it.” You always hated the way he talked about himself. He’s worth everything.

“But it's the truth.”

“I can’t believe you went back where you started the moment you left me. The self-degrading talk, sleeping on the floor…” It bothers you so much, like it’s somehow your fault, but you know it isn’t.

Bucky closes his eyes. He's not proud of it, but there is nothing he could have done to control it. “I am a lost case, I know.”

“Bucky,” you say in a surprisingly firm tone, and he opens his eyes back. “You’re worth everything, but you gotta believe it yourself first. I can’t magically make you see how wonderful you are. I don’t have that kind of power.”

 “Sometimes I feel it, but sometimes... there are some really hard days, you know?” He sighs. “The past I had, my Winter Soldier past, too, the mess... it's hard to believe I deserve some kind of peace, but I'm trying.”

You know he is.

“You are a wonderful person, especially when you are not an asshole who thinks he knows the best for everyone.”

“I'm a super soldier, remember? I'm used to making these kinds of decisions.” He gives you a small guilty smile.

“You know what soldiers are meant to do right?” You quickly continue without waiting for an answer. “It’s definitely not making decisions.”

“No?”

“No. Good soldiers follow orders.”

He smiles. “I'm a bad one, don't you know? The worst soldier.”

“Until further notice you are not allowed to make decisions.”

“It's not that simple.”

“No, it’s pretty simple. Don’t tire that beautiful head of yours. It’s not meant to make decisions anyway.” You try to sound like a 40s husband on purpose.

Bucky's head snaps to you. “You sound like my grandfather.”

“So you are familiar how this works.” You finally give him a smile.

“I'm gonna take care of you. No one will hurt you.” He still doesn’t get it, so you decide to explain.

“You will do whatever I say until I trust you to make your own decisions.” Your voice is firm. You don’t like it, to be honest, because you know this is super hard, especially for someone like him... giving away the control knowing everything he's been through, but what choice do you have?

Bucky frowns. “What does that mean?”

“It means if you want me back, you will let me decide on things for a while. You took my choice away and made us both suffer. Letting me decide is how you earn my trust back.”

His stomach aches. “I don't feel... what does that mean? There are many things, I can't just...”

You can see the panic so clearly and you realize how this must have sounded. “Calm down, Bucky. I don’t mean everything. Just things about our relationship.”

“Your safety is off the table,” he says without hesitation, and you’re surprised he doesn’t protest about something else. “You can decide on everything else.”

“Nope. That’s what got us here.” You sound calm.

“You don't understand the level of the danger.” His voice is trembling. “Everything but your safety.”

“You fucking left me over this, Bucky!” You raise your voice a little because what if he finds another Hydra member and tries to leave you again? “How can I trust you and accept this? How can I know you won’t do it again and say it is for my safety?”

“Conditions. Name them all, I am up for it, but I cannot play around with this. I couldn’t sleep for weeks because of it. Please... I need to be in control just in this aspect. I need to protect you.”

You think for a second. “You talk to me first. That’s the condition.”

Bucky leans in and steals your fry, agreeing happily immediately. “Done.”

“And you need to respect my decisions. Even if you don’t like them. I don’t like yours all the time, but…”

“When did I not respect your decisions? I think you are very bright and rational, usually.”

“When you didn’t even ask me and took a decision for me.” You look into his eyes daringly.

“Would you have stayed away from me? And I said usually.”

“I wouldn’t and it would be my decision.” He can’t use this against you.

“Why?”

“I could hide, I could act like we aren’t together, I could act like I hate you, but I can’t stay away.”

“We could never act.” He kisses your forehead.

“Fine. We could only see each other in secret then.” That was another possibility.

He smiles like what you said reminds him of something. “When can we have a date?”

“Tomorrow?”

“I hope you won't change your mind.” He grabs your head and you squeeze it.

“I won’t ever change my mind about you.”

You kiss him before placing the plate on the coffee table and resting your head on his chest where it feels like home.

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 41

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 38, part 39, part 40

“We’re back,” Wayne calls when he steps through the door. Holding it open for Eddie, who is  insisting that he can walk through by himself. Which he can, his muscles are fully capable of that now. It’s the pain that’s the problem.

At least, that’s what the doctors say. Eddie’s muscles have grown back to the state they were in before the coma. He was fully healed from that regard. It’s what put him in one that’s the larger problem. The lifelong problem.

Eddie has nerve damage. In his legs, in his arms, and minorly in his abdomen. It will affect him for the rest of his life. There’s no official healing from this. Nothing they can do.

All that can be done is find ways to cope with it. Get Eddie the aids he needs for the days his legs are weaker. Keep growing his muscles, so they get stronger. Help regain his balance. Learn to move around with different walking aids.

But none of it will cure it. Eddie will never walk the same again. He’ll never live the same. His life is forever changed.

“I got it,” Eddie snaps. Pushing Wayne away. Forcing himself to walk on his own. With his crutches. A wince with each step.

They offered to let them borrow a wheelchair, but Eddie refused. Wayne tried to push, but there was nothing he could do to change Eddie’s mind.

Eddie slams his bedroom door, locking himself in. There’s the faint whisper of music that sneaks underneath the door. Loud and angry. Wayne’s surprised the radio isn’t turned all the way up, making the house shake. The last time he did that though, it caused Steve to have a migraine. The kid was too nice to say anything about it, Wayne was the one that had to remind Eddie of the rules.

This was not their house, he couldn’t just do what he wanted because he was angry. He could be angry all he wanted, Wayne was to, but he couldn’t hurt people because of that.

“I’m guessing it didn’t go well.” Steve stares down the hallway.

He shakes his head. “It’s a lot worse than we hoped.”

Steve lets out a deep exhale. “Dustin’s here, I’m going to give him a ride home and then we can talk about this before you go to work.”

Wayne nods. His body heavier than he left. His world a little darker than it was before. This wasn’t life ending. He should be grateful for that.

He lands in the kitchen, pulling a beer out of the fridge. Downing it faster than he’d like to, and grabs another. Savors this one. Sits down at the island and watches the condensation form.

Ten minutes later, Steve comes back. Grabs a beer of his own and sits next to Wayne.

“The kid ok?” Wayne takes a sip.

Steve shakes his head. “Came here in the middle of a panic attack because I wasn’t at work. Thought I had another migraine. I didn’t know he cared that much about them.”

“That kid loves you, of course he cares about them. He cares about you.”

“I showed him the book,” Steve says with a long sip of his beer. “We agreed to talk about it more often, so it doesn’t happen again. Hopefully that will make it better for him.”

Wayne nods along. “Hope so.”

A clock tick in the background, filling the silence. The only sounds Wayne can hear is the ticking, and the music coming from down the hall. He might be mistaken, but he can almost hear the quiet sobs Eddie’s trying to hide.

“Be easy on him tonight,” Wayne says. “It’s going to be a while until he gets used to this.”

“What did they say?” Steve’s voice sounds hollow. Already anticipating the bad news.

Wayne swallows. “He has permanent nerve damage.”

“Fuck,” Steve exhales. He wasn’t ready to hear that.

No one was.

Sometimes the world likes to crowd Wayne with all his problems. Wave after wave after wave. Never a gentle stream, where the water keeps moving. Where the problems spread out evenly, so they aren’t as overwhelming.

No, Wayne’s life gets hit by tidal waves. All of his problems coming together at once to knock him down and suck him out to sea. Making him swim back to shore, just for it to happen all over again.

“Yeah. We had to order different crutches, the ones that go around the forearm. And a cane. For him to have options. His muscles aren’t the problem, it’s the pain. The balance. He’ll need them for the rest of his life.”

Wayne finishes his beer. Gets up, had to. Because he has to be at the plant in an hour for a shift he doesn’t want to go. He wants to be here. With his kid. To go through this change together.

He’s run out of sick days and PTO. He’s run out of favors. Every missed shift is a write up, and Wayne is so close to being able to afford a house. So close to getting them a real home. One that they’ve dreamed about but knew it would never be a reality.

Now, they were so close. And there’s this house that he has his eyes one. That he’s two weeks pay out from being able to afford. If they take his offer. It’s so close.

So he has to go. He has to. To make their lives better. To get them back on their own two feet. So life can get to their new normal.

He gets himself ready for work. He leaves the house and does his job. Clocks out after eight and a half excruciating hours and comes back home. Drags himself up the flight of stairs and falls into bed.

When he wakes up, there’s an argument in the kitchen. He can hear the yelling through the floor. He gets up to go deal with it.

“Well stop hovering and we won’t have a problem,” Eddie yells.

“How was I hovering?” Steve yells right back. “All I asked was if I could get you anything.”

Eddie scowls. “I can get things for myself, thank you very much.”

“It’s my house. Do you even know where everything is?”

“I’ve lived here for three fucking weeks, Harrington, I know where things are.”

Steve crosses his arms. “Fine then. Go get it yourself. I was just trying to help.”

“I don’t need your help all the fucking time. I’m not fucking helpless.”

“Fine,” Steve snaps. Pushing himself off the counter and toward the door. “I won’t help then.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

Steve brushes past Wayne. So used to their fights now, he doesn’t even care that Wayne overheard. He shoves his shoes on and slams the door behind him. Going out to clear his head.

Wayne sighs. This has been happening more and more. Eddie won’t take help from either of them, but he hates it more when it’s Steve. Steve’s able to fight back in the way Eddie wants. Him finding the right nerves to get under his skin. Hurt them both out of anger.

He was sick of it. There was a fight almost every day now. Over something stupid. Over Eddie’s pride mixed with his pain.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Eddie grumbles when Wayne enters the kitchen.

“Too bad.” Wayne crosses his arms, fed up. “I’m fed up with your shit.”

Eddie glares at him, tears in his eyes. He pushes himself off the stool, grabbing his crutches. “I said I don’t want to hear it.” He walks down the hall and slams the door. Locking it behind him.

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[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 9

As you guys wanted, here's me doubling up on posting days. It will (hopefully) be twelve hours apart so that each chapter can get some love.

In this chapter we have a lot of flirting between Eddie and Steve. The Party being "meh" *shrugs shoulders* at Steve being bi. And Robin being the most soulmate a guy could ask for.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

MY TAG LIST FOR THIS STORY IS CLOSED!!!!

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

That night they were all gathered to watch the amateur theatrical society put on Much Ado About Nothing.

Even the ones who had been reluctant to join in were doubled over in laughter at the trick the Prince pulled on Beatrice and Benedict. The way they cried when Hero was accused of cheated on Claudio. And cheered when it was resolved happily ever after.

Mike complained about it all the way to the car. “We were forced to read this play in eighth grade and I hated it. I never knew it was funny.”

Eddie put his arm around his shoulder. “That is the unfortunate side effect of the education system. They suck the joy out of all of everything.”

“Normally I’m rolling my eyes at Eddie’s rants,” Robin said, “but I’m going to have to agree with him on this one. They just want sanitized versions of everything.”

Steve nodded. “Like what’s with the jump in American history when we stop in eighth grade at the Civil War and then all the way to WWII in eleventh grade, with only a brief mention of WWI as it related to WWII. Are they really trying to tell us that nothing happened in those eighty years of note? Like the fuck?”

Mike blinked at him. “Holy shit, I never even realized.”

The kids looked around at each other in shock.

“They push math and science,” Eddie continued, “but shit on everything else, except sports.”

He winced when realized what he had said. He looked over at Steve with an apology on his lips, but Steve was nodding.

“And they have to be the right sports, too,” Steve agreed. “Wrestling, swimming, soccer...anything outside the big three baseball, football, or basketball. Trust me, I got a lot of flack on being on the swim team. It was ‘gay’.”

“What?” Will squawked. “Why?”

Eddie licked his lips. “Little, teeny, tiny uniforms.” He emphasized the point holding his fingers not that far apart.

Dustin snorted. “Can’t be any worse than the basketball shorts.”

Steve looked upwards as he chewed on the bottom of his lip.

Dustin’s eyes bulged out of his head. “How much worse are we talking about here?”

“Speedo.”

Lucas frowned. “What the fuck is a Speedo?”

Eddie was practically vibrating in his skin. “Can I tell them, Stevie? Can I please?”

Steve let out a little sigh. The sigh the Party lovingly called his mom sigh. It was the sound he made when he knew no mater what he did it was going to end badly for him, so he just...let it happen.

He waved at Eddie to go ahead.

“Instead of swim trunks, that have a leg on them,” Eddie crowed, “Speedos are swim underpants. They cover the junk, the ass, and that’s it.”

“And you deliberately wore these things?” Max asked in interest. More interest than Lucas or any of the guys were comfortable with.

“I’m good at it,” Steve said, blush creeping up his ears and down his throat from the stain on his cheeks. “The uniform wasn’t as bad Eddie’s making it out to be.”

Gareth snorted. “Nope, they really are that bad. There was a period of time where–”

Eddie slammed his hand over Gareth’s mouth. “There’s no need to tell them about that, Gare.”

Steve looked over at Brian.

“Your senior year Eddie forced all of Hellfire to watch your meets.”

“Bri!” Eddie protested.

Steve looked over at Eddie and raised an eyebrow. “You like the...what was you it called it,” he said tapping his finger on his lips, “the ‘little, teeny, tiny’ uniform, Eds?”

Eddie threw his arms in the air. “I am but a gay man in a small town, so sue me!”

“I always preferred the lifeguard uniforms at the community pool,” Steve said. “Less wedgies.”

“Babe,” Eddie scoffed, “those shorts and tank left very little to the imagination. At least with the Speedo you knew what you were getting. With the lifeguard uniform it was all fantasy.”

Steve laughed. “I bet you were the kind who faked drowning to get CPR from their favorite lifeguard.”

“I can honestly say, I’ve never done that.”

“Yeah?” Steve asked all smiles. “Can you prove that?”

Eddie got up close to him and whispered, “Yeah, darlin’. I think I would have remembered you rescuing me before the Upside Down.” He winked at him and sauntered off. The rest of the band hastily said their goodbyes and hurried after their ride home.

Steve’s face was as red as his old life guard uniform. “Right. Let’s get home, yeah?”

Dustin eye’s narrowed at him for a moment. “Steve Harrington, are you crushing on my DM?”

The remaining eight looked at Dustin in shock.

“Dude!” Will hissed. “You can’t just ask that in public! What if someone overheard you?”

Dustin looked around and waved his hand around him. “There is literally no one here. I wouldn’t do that if I didn’t think it was a safe time to ask. But I’m going home with my mom as soon as she gets here and I will not be stymied.”

Steve ducked his head. “And if I did like boys, that would be okay with everyone?”

Everyone just looked around at each other and there was this collective shrug.

“Do you still like girls?” Max asked, genuinely curious.

Steve nodded shyly.

Lucas frowned. “You can like both?”

“Like David Bowie!” El said with her serene smile. “He likes both. Freddie Mercury from Queen, too.”

Steve snapped his fingers. “Exactly like that, El!”

Her smile grew.

“It’s okay if you like Eddie that way,” Mike said softly.

All the heads snapped to look at him.

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, okay. I have a lot to work on regarding the whole Lucas thing, but I’m not a complete ass.”

“Thank you,” El said and kissed his cheek. “You just have a lot growing up to do. We all do. We just need to give each other the chances to do so safely. Or at least that’s what Joyce keeps telling me.”

Steve gave her a hug. “Thanks, Supergirl.”

He looked out at all his friends. The people who were more his family then his own parents.

“I might have a small...” he raised his finger and thumb, “crush on a certain metalhead DM who recently joined the Party in March...”

Robin scoffed. “And by little he means huge!” She spread out her arms all the way out.

Dustin’s head snapped around to Steve. “If you two get together, he better treat you right. You deserve it.”

Steve blinked. Considering how Dustin had worded his original question, he had been sure that Dustin was going to him not to break Eddie’s heart.

He gave Dustin a hug and kissed the top of his head.

He really shouldn’t have doubted this kid.

Just then, Claudia pulled up in her station wagon and Dustin, El, Will and Mike all piled in after saying their goodbyes.

“He totally has the hots for you, by the way,” Max said dryly.

Steve blinked at her for a moment. “How do you know that? Does he spend all his days learning alt rock on his guitar or something for me?”

Max just blinked at him. “Huh. You aren’t as stupid as I thought.” And then she just started walking toward the car.

Steve scratched his cheek thoughtfully. “So to make sure I got this right, Max is saying Eddie has the hots for me because he’s been learning my favorite songs for me on his guitar?”

“That’s what it sounded like to me, man,” Lucas said with a half shrug.

“I’m with Lucas on this one,” Robin agreed. “So maybe you should do what I’ve been suggesting for the last three weeks and you know ASK HIM OUT!”

Lucas giggled.

“Shush you,” Steve admonished. “Get to the car.” He pointed at Robin. “You are spending the night with me to help plan out something cool.”

Robin saluted and Lucas just rolled his eyes and they all walked to the car to end another great night at the fair.

****

“Let’s play to your strengths,” Robin said, sitting cross-legged on Steve’s bed.

“Sports, sewing, and history,” Steve said, ticking them off on his fingers. “Fat lot of good that’s going to do me. It’s not as though I can whip out something overnight as a token of my affection.”

She rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t have to be something fancy. You could do something small. Like maybe use that fancy red thread you got at the weavers yesterday.”

He blushed. “I wouldn’t know where to start. Everything I know how to make is either winter stuff or something he’d never use.”

“He uses that handkerchief all the time,” Robin pointed out. “You could do something like that.”

Steve flopped dramatically on his back. “Not if he knew it was made from that fancy thread I got. He’d want to protect it.”

Robin had to give him that one. Because that would be an Eddie thing to do. And while the sentiment was sweet it would make Steve sad that he never used it.

Suddenly Steve sat up. “Oh!”

She blinked at him. “What’s ‘oh’?”

“He was telling me just last week,” he explained, “that the bag he used to hold all his dice for their game got a hole in it and it kept spilling the dice all over the inside of his backpack!”

Robin grinned. “Let’s pick out the best material to match that pretty thread.”

Steve nodded. “I just have to make a quick phone call to find out how big the bag should be and I can have this done in no time at all.”

He called Dustin and told him his idea. Dustin was ecstatic and told him everything he needed to know.

Robin and Steve then dug into his material stores and picked out a nice black felt and a satin red lining to make doubly sure Eddie wouldn’t lose the dice down the gaping maw that was his backpack.

He then showed Robin how to make patterns and cut them. Then he got to work.

Even with how easily Robin got bored, she watched the whole time with fascination. How he embroidered his pattern into what would be the front of the bag. How quickly and evenly Steve stitched the pieces of cloth together. He explained the process every step of the way and her eyes just lit up.

He turned the bag right side out and fitted it with silver draw string. He pulled it taut and held it up to Robin to see.

She reached out and gently took it from him. “That’s so cool. You do a bunch of these at work and send them to Katie as way to gauge reactions to your work, while you make bigger pieces.”

Steve licked his lips. “You really think these would sell?”

“And I think Eddie would be pleased as punch that he got the first official Harrington Pattern design.”

Steve took it back from her and smiled. “That would make it even more special, wouldn’t it?”

Robin grinned. “Yes, yes it would.”

He threw his arms around her. “You’re the best soulmate anyone could possibly ask for.”

She blushed but held him tight. “You too, Stevie.”

When Steve finally pulled back he tapped his finger on his lips. “Now what to make you.”

Robin squealed. “But you already made something awesome. The pirate costume was amazing, you don’t have to do more just because you made Eddie something.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes, but I just tailored the clothes. I didn’t make them. I want to make you something.”

She scoffed. “Like the only thing I need are gloves for marching band. Since I have to have hand-me-downs, they are either too tight or way too big.”

His eyes lit up. “I’ve never made gloves before. That would be fun and interesting to try.”

“How would you even measure something like that?” Robin asked, a small amount of hope creeping into her voice.

Steve grinned. “Do you remember those ugly ass hand turkeys they made us draw in elementary school?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Just. Like. That.”

Her eyes went wide. “Wait are you serious?”

Steve just grinned.

****

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

I'm not 100% sure my history experience in school is universal in the US, but in order to bridge the gap you actually had to an elective history class called Twentieth Century. Like it was straight up bullshit. And before you ask, you can bet your ass I took that class. It was taught by my favorite teacher. Of course I took that class.

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[ashwhowrites]

I’ve heard that you’ve been asking for Robin requests. It’s an enemies to lovers fic, reader is the new girl to Hawkins she auditions for the band, but unknown to the reader that her instrument is also Robin’s. Robin hates the reader as she thinks that she’s trying to compete and be better than her, but the reader thinks that Robin is cute and keeps on trying to impress her with her musical skills. The reader is pissed off by Robin being cold to her and gives Robin a taste of her own medicine. The two have an explosive argument which the reader reveals her feelings for Robin and I’ll leave the ending up to you. Love your writing

Love love love my girl Robin. I ended this happy! You're welcome in advance. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Battle of the trumpets

Y/N was new to town and didn't know anyone. She landed herself in band, playing the trumpet. An instrument she knew how to play since she was young, her impressive playing earned her many praises in class. She might have tried to show off, but it wasn't for the teacher, it was for the cute brunette with dashing blue eyes that played right next to her.

After a few months of trying to get to know Robin, Y/N fell short. Short-like face planted straight into the ground whenever she made eye contact. Y/N would talk to Robin about their instrument but Robin seemed like she could care less. Whenever Y/N performed a solo, which she only agreed to so Robin could be impressed, Robin rolled her eyes and huffed. Y/N wasn't sure why she was so hostile. But for a while, she gave Robin the benefit of the doubt.

Y/N stayed friendly with Robin for the first few months. She gave her a smile when she entered class and said goodbye as she left. All she could get from Robin was a grunt and shrug. Y/N was attracted to Robin's looks, but her personality made Y/N rethink her crush.

Robin could not stand the goody-goody that she sat next to. A new girl named Y/N. Robin hated that she was stunning, and played the trumpet. Robin felt like Y/N was the new favorite and all the teacher focused on.

Robin was not surprised when Y/N was granted solo after solo. She couldn't stand the way Y/N had to constantly show off. Robin knew it was on purpose too, because of the way Y/N looked back at her every single time. She also hated how fake Y/N was, always acting so nice towards Robin. But Robin knew she didn't mean it, it was a mind game.

The final straw was when they got paired for a duet. The teacher believed they were two of the best and should be paired. Y/N was excited about the idea, alone time with Robin was all she wanted. Robin, on the other hand, was seething at the news.

"Hi, Robin!" Y/N said Robin hated how cute and sweet her voice was.

"Hi," Robin mumbled, her eyes on the floor as she pretended to back up her instrument.

"I was thinking we could meet at my house? Here is my address and phone number." Y/N said, handing over the piece of paper.

~

"And then the dingus paired us together! Can you believe that? Not only do I have to constantly be right next to her, so close that I can smell her perfume. But now I have to hang out with her?" Robin scoffed, she angrily smashed the movies into the racks.

"I really don't think it will be that bad," Steve explained, Robin had a tendency to overexaggerate a lot.

"You don't know her! Trust me, it will be the worst night of my life." Unaware of Y/N being a few racks behind.

~

The air was thick, and Y/N barely offered a welcome as she led Robin to her living room. Both were focusing on the music, with no small talk between runs. Only the sound of their music.

"On this part, I'd try doing a tad shorter. The sound dies out at the end." Y/N explained.

Robin sighed heavily at the comment, "Figures you would correct me."

"Just want a good grade." Y/N kept it short. Robin had never seen this side of her before. She was cold and distant.

"Oh, I'm sorry that I'm not the best in the class, and a suck ass to the teacher." Robin fought back.

"I never claimed to be the best, but if that is the way it seems, not my fault. I also don't suck the teacher's ass. I just know how to play." Y/N snapped, her eyes sharp as she glared at Robin.

"Oh please. You constantly show off and do every single solo. You walk all high and mighty, we are all scum beneath your shoe." Robin glared back. The air was thicker than ever between them. Y/N could not believe she ever liked this girl.

"I only showed off because I wanted to impress yo- someone. I never meant to look like a try-hard. If you want a solo, I will gladly step back." Y/N sighed, exhausted from the arguing.

"Oh, the only way I can get a solo is if you step back?"

"That is so not what I said!"

"It's what you are thinking!"

"No, it is not!" Y/N huffed as she stood up and slammed her trumpet back in the case.

"Then what are you thinking, huh? No one comes close to how well you play. Poor Robin can't get the spot on her own so you might as well ha-" Robin didn't get the finish. Y/N's loud scream filled her ears.

"I'M THINKING ABOUT HOW I CAN'T BELIEVE I LIKED YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE. I'M THINKING HOW MUCH OF AN IDIOT I WAS IN TRYING TO IMPRESS YOU. GO TO HELL, BUCKLEY."

Robin sat stunned as Y/N's bedroom door slammed.

~~~

"How did last night go?" Steve asked when Robin walked into her morning shift.

"Terrible" Robin sighed, the guilt was heavy on her chest. Her anxiety made her want to throw up. "Turns out she likes me."

"And that is bad?" Steve asked, his head turned into confusion.

"Yes, it's bad! We got into a huge argument because of my big mouth, and she snapped. I don't know what to do."

"Have you tried apologizing?"

"Wow! What a good idea- of course I fucking apologized. She refused to open the door." Robin sighed again, her head slamming against the counter.

~~~

Monday arrived and Robin was nervous to see Y/N again. She walked into band and saw Y/N in her normal seat. Robin took a deep breath and went to take her seat when the teacher stopped her.

"Robin, perfect you are here! I'd like to announce to the class that the big solo at the big show will be performed by Robin Buckley." The class erupted in applause but Robin looked to Y/N.

~

The bell rang and Robin's tongue was fast as she asked Y/N to talk.

"You didn't need to get me that solo."

Y/N rolled her eyes, of course, it wasn't an apology.

"I didn't. He genuinely picked you. You were better after all. Congratulations on the solo, and don't worry about the duet. He cut it from the show." Y/N said a sad smile sent Robin's way as she left.

Great, now Robin felt even worse.

~~~

Robin thought about Y/N and tried to think of every way to fix it. She started by dropping out of the solo. Y/N deserved that part way more than Robin did.

Of course, that doesn't fix the damage Robin did. But it was a step forward.

~~~

Robin took a deep breath and clenched the flowers in her hand. She stood backstage as she waited for Y/N. She practiced the apology in her head over and over.

"Oh, hi," Y/N said, a confused look in her eyes.

"These are for you," Robin rushed out, practically slamming the flowers into Y/N's chest.

"Thank you," Y/N smiled.

"Your performance was wonderful," Robin added, the air was thick and uncomfortable. Robin felt like she could barely breathe underneath her suit. She took in the sight of Y/N in her long black dress and classy makeup.

"What are you doing here?" Y/N asked. She figured Robin went to the performance as a member of the band since she didn't have a song to perform.

"I wanted to see you, and to apologize." Robin gulped, "I treated you like shit based on my own insecurity. I saw you as a competition and I thought you were trying to push me out. I felt like a huge ass when you admitted you like me and wanted to impress me. I'm honored that you thought I was worth your attention. I know I fucked up, and I am so sorry. Pathetically, I thought coming here, dressed up, with flowers and an apology would be romantic. But I kinda feel stupid." Robin laughed nervously.

Y/N shook her head but stepped closer to Robin.

"It is romantic," Y/N whispered, her finger underneath Robin's chin as she pushed up her head. Robin licked her lips nervously as Y/N's soft skin touched hers.

"Yeah?" Robin whispered, her nervous smile made Y/N's stomach flutter.

"You know what would make it more romantic?" Y/N whispered, her eyebrow raised as she smiled. "If you kissed me."

"Right! Totally," Robin agreed, nodding her head. She felt her body heat up as Y/N's lips landed on hers. Robin never felt her heart race so fast, like it was trying to run out of her body. She placed her sweaty and nervous hands on Y/N's waist and pulled her closer.

Robin felt her knees buckle as Y/N's warm tongue touched hers. Robin gripped Y/N's dress tight and groaned as Y/N dropped the flowers to dive her hands into Robin's hair.

"Hey, Rob di-" The girls snapped apart upon hearing a voice. Y/N shyly wiped her lips as she saw a stranger with a shocked look on his face.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to walk in on...that."

"Thanks, dingus," Robin said annoyed. Major cock block much?

"I'm Steve!" His hand reached out.

Y/N coughed awardly and shook his hand.

"Y/N"

"Well I'm just gonna go and leave you two alone," Steve winked and walked out. Leaving the girls blushing and looking at the floor.

"Want to get out of here? Somewhere we won't be interrupted?" Y/N asked, Robin was a puddle at her feet.

"Absolutely."

[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal (24)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Characters: Jake Jensen

Warnings: established Stucky, caring mobsters, pregnant reader, polyamory, fluff, angst, a little silliness, sweet Jake

A/N: This is a reader-centered chapter. We learn what the reader did while Steve & Bucky were away.

Indecent Proposal (23)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

10 hours earlier, shortly after Bucky and Steve left, …

“What if you type on your laptop to find them?” You decided to take matters into your own hands and bug Jensen. He refused to tell you your husbands’ location, but this didn’t mean you cannot get on his nerves until he gives you more than another excuse.

“I told you that their location is top secret. If I say one word, they will kill me, or worse,” you cocked a brow.

“What’s worse than getting killed?” You asked. “I don’t think there are worse things they could do to you. Why do you fear them so much?”

“Oh, my sweet summer child,” Jensen waited a lifetime to use the quote from George R.R. Martin’s novel. He grinned proudly when you wrinkled your forehead. “You have no clue what they could do to me for even talking to you.”

“They are cuddly bears,” you huffed and sat on a chair next to Jensen. “I’m worried and bored. It's a deadly combination. They don’t want me to leave the mansion, and there is nothing to do but watch TV or read. But I can’t focus on shit.”

“Do you want to play a game? I can get you any game you want for free,” Jensen tried to distract you for a little while.

“What kind of games?”

“How about we play a roleplay or…wait…yes!” Jensen typed away on his laptop. “I got it. You’ll love the game. Give me a minute and we can play together.”

Jensen handed you a controller and switched one of the huge monitors on the wall on.

You didn’t want to play stupid games but agreed to distract yourself from overthinking things again.

“What is the game about?”

“Zombies,” he grinned and sat back down. “Uh-I hope you can stomach a little bit of blood and stuff.”

“Sure—” you sucked in a breath. “I mean…I’m not sure. If I puke it’s your fault.”

“I’ll take the blame then,” Jensen started the game. He explained the ropes to you before he let you choose a character. “We can play together. Stay behind my character in the beginning. He’s a killer dude!”

“Got it,” you looked at the controller to recall everything Jensen said. The first thing you did was walk straight into a group of zombies. Jensen did much better. He saved your character and killed all the zombies.

“Awesome, I found a magnum,” he did a little dance before guiding his character and yours inside an abandoned house. “We are safe here for now. In later chapters, you will get attacked.”

“You know the game well,” you said while fighting with the controller. “Do you play it often?”

“I made it,” he smirked. “Do not fret, my lady. I will bring you to safety.”

“You made it?”

“I designed it,” he shrugged when you gaped at him. “I always wanted to become a game designer.”

“That’s cool! I bet you made a shit-ton of money with the game. The characters look so real!”

“Yeah, that’s what I dreamed of,” he said, eyes saddening at the memory. “Sadly, the company I sold the game to tried to fuck me over. I had no other choice but to hack into their system and steal my own game.”

“I’m sorry, Jensen.”

“Nah,” he shook his head and gave you a cracked smile. “This way only I know how to beat the game. You’re the first person I allowed to play it.”

“Thank you,” you patted his thigh. “You’re a nice guy.”

“Please don’t tell Bucky and Steve so. I’m a dangerous criminal, remember?”

“Got it,” you whispered to not draw attention toward you and Jake. Your husbands’ men still guarded the doors. “You’re a bad guy. A mastermind and criminal. We all should fear you.”

“Uh-don’t overdo it. I don’t want them to end up killing me because I’m a danger to you…”

“Alpine! Come out, kitty,” you called Alpine’s name while looking for the cat. Another distraction was needed because Jake had to check on the security and watch the monitors. Something was happening outside the mansion, but you didn’t dare ask. “Alpine?”

Alpine meowed loudly. “There you are!” You grabbed the cat from its throne, Bucky’s old armchair at the library. “I was looking for you, punk.”

You giggled when the cat looked offended. “Aw, only Bucky can call you punk, huh? Well, he’s not here, so I’m going to call you punk.”

Alpine didn’t mind cuddles. The cat was looking for its owner, missing Bucky as much as you did. “Oh, wait! I know. Let’s brush your fur and get you a new collar.”

Carrying the cat inside the walk-in wardrobe to look for something to dress the cat you sighed. “I can’t get you a new collar, Alpine. Bucky said we must stay inside the mansion. But don't worry. I'll find a nice scarf or something for you.”

While Alpine got comfortable in your arms, you looked at the vanity, remembering Steve and Bucky gifted you more than one necklace.

“I know, punk. We will make you even prettier using my necklace…”

Part 24.2

Tags in reblog.

[havensins]

ok but imagine being pre-serum steve’s friend and he fully believes you like bucky and gets really bratty and whiney about it until you fuck that silly idea out of him. maybe bucky does like you and steve and watches 👀👀

wait!! bc i like this a lot 😵‍💫😵‍💫

like… pre-serum stevie with all his insecurities thinks you’d want someone like bucky so he just suppresses his feelings & that results in him giving you the cold shoulder & acting like a brat everytime you did talk.

after a lot of talking and many stolen kisses, both you and steve ended up settling and agreeing. you admitted your feelings for steve and kept the ones you actually did have for bucky deep down a secret.

it’s a couple days after the both of you have established your feelings. bucky had came by to check up on you, but was met with the sight of steve on his knees as you sat and allowed him to suck you off.

bucky’s breath hitched in his throat, and he was grateful neither of you had noticed him. he felt himself grow hard in his pants. the two people he had grown to have feelings for.. enjoying each other.

the sight turns him on more than he wants to admit and he can’t help but reach a hand down to palm himself.

he gets too comfortable. his eyes slip close and he’s whimpering to himself. he feels so perverted, watching the two of you and-

“well what do we have here?” your voice pulls him from his thoughts and he blinks his eyes open. he retracts his hand almost immediately. “i-i’m so sorry.” he stutters, frozen in shock and slight fear.

“what d’ya think, stevie? he seems so obviously infatuated,” you’d grin, and steve would pull off of your cock slowly. “you can stop looking so scared, bucky,” he rasped, and bucky huffs out a dry laugh and looks between the both of you nervously.

“c’mere, sergeant,” you hummed and he obeyed. “i’m sure stevie and i could figure out how you could be of use to us…”

[scoopsahoy]

ok I've seen arguably too many "Steve takes your virginity" fics but not enough "you take Steve's virginity". maybe you could do it where the reader has seen him and a girl go into a bedroom at parties and stuff but he reveals that they don't do anything besides make out and/or talk because he didn't feel truly connected to anyone, but he does with the reader, and you're his first. doesn't have to be exactly that but I'd love to see smth like this. (also set before he and Nancy get together!)

ぺ  word count ⋰ 2.1k

✰  tw ⋰ none :)

❍  cw ⋰ swearing, dirty talk, fingering, descriptive sex, top!reader

✐  masterlist

⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★

What started out as getting paired up as lab partners with Steve Harrington in chemistry class turned into eating lunch together a handful of times, then sitting together at assemblies. But you'd never hung out away from school, which is why it sort of caught you by surprise when he asked you out after class one day.

Obviously you agreed.

Now, you were in his passenger seat looking up at what stars you could see, rain clouds blocking a good amount of them.

You'd been making good conversation the whole time, but after a brief moment of comfortable silence, he decided to change the subject.

"I heard about you and Joey. Sucks."

You nodded. "Yeah. That was weeks ago, though."

"How long were you guys together?"

"Eight months. It's fine. I kinda got the feeling that he wasn't looking for anything long term. Asshat didn't even dump me in person. He called me at like midnight one night to do it. I thought he might've been drunk but nope. He was completely sober."

"What'd he say?"

"Apparently he'd been eyeing a girl in his gym class. He came close to sleeping with her that night before he called."

"Damn."

"Yeah. On one hand, I'm glad he didn't cheat on me, you know?" Steve nodded. "But on the other hand, I almost wish he didn't tell me why he was ending it. Maybe that's just me, though."

"No, it's not just you."

You smirked at him. "Thanks." You looked at each other for a moment. "So... Betty Thompson, huh?"

"What about her?"

"What do you mean, 'what about her'? I saw you guys the other night at Jackson's party."

"What did you see, exactly?"

"I saw her pull you into one of the bedrooms and shut the door."

"Oh, yeah."

"She's really nice. Good for you."

"Yeah. We didn't... do anything, though."

Your brows dipped in confusion. "What? Nothing?"

"No."

"Why not?"

He shrugged. "I wasn't really feeling it. She's sweet and everything. We just didn't... click. Sexually."

"Mm. So what girls have you clicked with? Sexually." You threw in that last part sarcastically.

He shook his head. "None of 'em."

At this point you felt like he was messing with you.

"Not a single one?"

"I mean, we've gotten along in every other way, and I've kissed a few of them and done some other stuff. It just never moved past that."

"What about the first one?" He was silent, staring at the stars. That was when you understood. "Steve... You haven't-"

"No. I haven't. I've only ever felt that click with one person, but I don't know if it'll ever lead to anything."

"Who is it?" He looked at you, still not saying anything. "What?" He still didn't speak. "Is it me?"

He hesitated to nod. "I'm sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. I don't mean for it to."

"It doesn't." He raised his eyebrows. "Not at all."

"Good."

"What is it about me?"

"You're just... more genuine than most of them. With a lot of them it felt like they were only nice because they thought it would lead to sex, not because they were actually nice, you know?" You nodded. "But with you, you're just a really kind person. To everyone."

"Oh."

The energy in the car had shifted, and it started to feel like the space was getting smaller. You reached over and grabbed his hand, which was warm.

"Y/N..."

"Yeah?"

"Can I kiss you?"

You felt your chest tighten a bit. This wouldn't be your first kiss, but it was the first time you'd been asked for permission to kiss you.

You nodded, and you inched your faces closer to each other. His lips were soft and gentle on yours, and he was almost hesitant.

You reached up and cupped the side of his face, pulling him closer, and his nervousness lifted away and he leaned in to kiss you more firmly.

You pulled away after a moment, your faces inches apart.

"Wanna move to the backseat?" you asked, slightly out of breath.

He nodded immediately, and you crawled over the middle console and rather ungracefully landed in the backseat.

When he joined you, you positioned your bodies so that he was sitting in the middle with you on top of him. Your knees landed on either side of his hips and you sat on his thighs.

You craned your head down to kiss him, but you could feel anxiety radiating off of him, so you stopped after a moment.

"Are you okay?" you asked, pulling back enough to look at him.

"Are you seriously asking me that right now?"

"You seem nervous."

"I am. But I'm excited."

You smiled. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I just... I don't know what I'm doing."

"It's okay. We'll start here." You grabbed his hands and pulled them up to your waist. "How's that?"

"Good."

"How about this?" You pulled his hands up to your breasts, and his breath staggered. "Better?" He nodded. You reached down and grabbed the bottom of your shirt, slowly dragging it up and over your head, exposing your top half and leaving only your bra to cover it.

But that came off just as quickly, your entire upper half bare and unprotected.

His eyes were wide as moons, and you led his hands back up to them. "Okay?" you asked.

"Way better than okay."

You laughed quietly at that. One of his hands trailed to your back and pulled you closer to him, allowing him to plant kisses across your chest. Your hands landed on his shoulders as he left soft, wet spots on your skin.

After a moment, you reached down and pulled his shirt over his head, studying his body. It was littered with moles and freckles and his skin was smooth.

You bent down to press your lips to the right side of his neck and shoulder, making him sigh with satisfaction. His hands slipped down and landed on your thighs, the pads of your fingers pressing into your skin.

Your fingers began unbuttoning his jeans and he lifted his hips, pulling them down his thighs and leaving them pooled at his ankles. You could see a tent in his boxers that had been restricted by his jeans, and it made you bite your lip.

You awkwardly maneuvered to pull your shorts and underwear off, leaving you completely nude in his lap. He looked down and his lips separated, which made your chest go red.

"Steve," you said, getting his attention. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm good."

He pulled you back in for a kiss and you jumped when you felt two fingers on your clit. You softly gasped into his mouth and he smirked.

"I thought this was your first time."

"I never said I didn't do this part."

One of your hands gripped the seat behind him and the other squeezed his shoulder. His fingers were making almost unbearably slow circles, but when you ground into his hand, he sped up.

"Shit, Steve," you moaned into his mouth as your hands moved back to cupping his face.

One thing you'd come to notice since you became sexually active was how little time you lasted with stimulation to your clit. Granted, it was a lot quicker when it was a tongue than with fingers, but it was never more than a minute. You were just hoping it wouldn't be a turnoff for him.

With your hips slowly yet uncontrollably grinding into his hand combined with how quickly his fingers moved, you knew this orgasm would come ridiculously quick.

You couldn't resist breaking the kiss, both of your hands gripping his shoulders tightly as you pressed your foreheads together.

"Steve, I'm so close. I'm gonna cum."

He kept going, looking at you as your eyebrows dipped down so far that it made your skin wrinkle.

As quickly as that coil in your belly formed, it broke. You gasped deeply, your legs trembling as your entire body convulsed. You involuntarily thrust your hips back and forth as you came, making the car rock with you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you moaned in a high pitched and desperate voice, your nails pressing into his skin.

He kept you cumming until you had to move his hand away, letting your orgasm fade out.

Your breath was shaky, your thighs twitching. His hand landed on your hip, his thumb gently stroking your skin.

"Sorry," you whispered breathlessly.

"Sorry? For what?"

"That was quick. I hope that didn't, like, kill the mood or anything."

"Are you kidding? That was hot."

"Yeah?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

You kissed him with a smile, a moment later whispering into his ear, "Take your boxers off."

Without hesitation, he lifted his hips again and pulled his underwear off, his boner springing free.

You raised your eyebrows as the sight. He was a bit bigger than what you preferred, but you couldn't stop from biting your lip at seeing it. You reached down and wrapped your fingers around his girth, slowly stroking.

He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, throwing his head back and resting it on the top of the seat. You covered his neck and throat in wet kisses and he softly moaned at the combined sensations.

"Do you have a condom?" you whispered, pulling your hand away.

"Yeah, in my wallet." You reached into the cupholder behind you and grabbed his wallet, pulling out the plastic-wrapped condom and tearing it open with your teeth.

"You're sure about this?" you asked.

"Oh, yeah."

You nodded and reached down, rolling the condom over his erection.

"Ready?"

"Mhm. Ready."

You positioned him at your entrance and slowly sunk down onto him, making both of you whimper.

"Is that okay?" he asked.

"Oh, god, Steve. So good."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm." The pitch of your voice was a bit higher than you intended for it to be, but it was a huge turn on for him to hear you whine.

His eyes remained glued to your face as you slowly bounced, unintentionally moaning when you took all of him.

You kept this slow pace for a moment, trying to adjust to his size. But when you did finally get used to it was when the car began to rock. You squeezed his shoulders and reconnected your lips, soft moans tumbling from your lips and past his.

That was when raindrops started hitting his car, which neither of you noticed. The sounds of skin against skin, panting, and the creaking of the car masked any outside noises that could've possibly intruded. Your eyes were shut, your head thrown back.

"Shit," you whimpered as he left sloppy kisses all over your neck and chest.

"Is it still okay?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

"More than okay. So good."

"Y/N?" This time, he sounded embarrassed.

"Yeah?" You looked down to make eye contact, but you didn't stop your movements.

"I think... since it's my first time-"

"Are you close?" All he could do was nod. "That's okay. Cum whenever you want to."

Your encouraging words were more than arousing, and you began kissing his neck again. You could tell with how tightly his fingertips were pressing into your hips that he was close, even before he said anything.

Your lips against his skin drove him crazy, and when he began slightly bucking his hips up into you, you knew he was right there on the edge.

"Cum for me, Steve."

And within seconds, he was melting into the seat, pulling your body into his, and thrusting hard into you. His moans were like music to your ears and you could tell he was in heaven.

When you eventually stilled your movements, he didn't move. He stayed completely still aside from his heavy breathing, his head leaned back.

You cupped his face, angling his head up so he could look at you. You kissed him gently, which made him grin.

When you pulled away, you combed his hair out of his face with your fingers.

"Okay?" you asked.

He nodded quickly. "Oh yeah."

You looked out the window at the rain, smiling to yourself.

"I wonder when that started."

You turned back to him, and he tucked your hair behind your ear.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"For what?"

"Not judging me."

"What would I judge you for?"

"It was my first time, and I didn't last long."

"No guy lasts long their first time."

"Even Joey?"

"Please. It took him not even five seconds to finish the first time. This was much better."

That made him smile. "I'm glad. Next time it'll be longer, I promise."

You tilted your head a bit. "Next time, huh?"

"I mean, if you want to."

You kissed him. "Of course, I do."

He nodded. "Sweet."

[callsignspark]

change your ticket home

a top gun maverick AU

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Sherrie McHone (fem!OC)

summary: After a successful business trip on the West Coast, two Wells Corporation engineers have problems getting back home. Thank god for Bradley Bradshaw, a man who is determined to make their hours waiting in the terminal as enjoyable as possible. And if he and his pretty travel companion (and colleague) get closer along the way? Well that’s just a bonus.

warnings: difficulties of being a woman in a male-dominated field, minor misogyny from coworkers, yearning, pining, Bradley being an absolute sweetheart, it's vaguely alluded to but Sherrie is named after the Steve Perry song, American Airlines bashing bc this fic is based on a real and horrible experience I had a few years ago. and yes, the title is from the one direction song.

word count: 9.8k | masterlist

note: happy saturday! this has been in the works for almost a year and I'm so thrilled to finally be sharing it! this is dedicated to @gretagerwigsmuse, who gave so many wonderful ideas and has continually been a cheerleader for this fic. happy birthday!

Friday, July 15, 2016 | 06:36 AM PST | San Diego, CA

“If I fake a heart attack, we can get out of this meeting, right?”

She looks over at Bradley sprawled in the uncomfortable café chair in his navy suit, his arm slung over the back of her chair. He’s down to just his crisp, white button-up, jacket, and tie abandoned within the first ten minutes of the call.

“Suck it up, we’re almost done.” She rolls her eyes. “And Martin knows you’re a supremely healthy thirty-two-year-old, so no, I don’t think that will work.”

“Sherrie…” His whine is cut off by her hand covering his mouth as she unmutes her microphone and mentally praises his decision to sit so close to her. Not having to pull out both laptops was just an additional perk on top of her ability to silence him.

“That’s correct, Sean. We got them to agree to a small batch trail run for the connectors. We’ll be working together on running them through environmental testing before committing to a full contract.”

“And why are they agreeing to that? Because frankly, it makes no sense to me why they would want to do that.”

Bradley straightens up, his eyes narrowing at the Teams box showing the older man’s initials. “Well, Sean, as Sherrie explained before. Harris hasn’t produced connectors like this before, and they’re interested in the test results, specifically the shock data. So they agreed to take on half the burden so they can use the information for their own use. If this works how we think it will, this will be a huge boost for their business, even if the patent is shared.”

She looks at him, half admonishment and half appreciation, always a little bit amazed when he had her back, no matter how many times he had done it. “The contracts team is drawing up the final agreements and negotiating with their team next week, so best case scenario is we have reports with usable data by the end of the summer. Worst case, it’ll drift into the middle of Q1.”

“That’s great work you guys did out there, thank you. Alright, I think that covers everything we had to talk about today. McHone, Bradshaw - have a safe flight back, and everyone have a good weekend!” Martin ends the call before anyone can add anything.

Bradley laughs. “God, he’s just as sick of Sean as I am. I can’t wait until he retires.”

“He’s not that bad; you’re just grumpy because you had to dress up for the staff meeting, and then Martin said cameras off today.”

“I am upset about that! I will be logging yet another suggestion that we should have casual Fridays and casual travel policy. But I’m more upset because he talks down to you all the time! Like you haven’t been carrying this department on your back since we started ten years ago!”

“Carrying is an exaggeration, Bradley.” She looks up from where she’s putting her laptop away. “I think you have time to change into something comfy before we board.”

“American Airlines Flight 2307 from San Diego to Charlotte, Boarding Group A can now board.”

“Or not.” She giggles as he groans, reaching over to pull her other air pod out of his ear. “Come on, it’s a long flight; you can sleep on the plane. Just be thankful you’re not wearing an underwire bra and heels.”

“I don’t know how you do that.” He mutters, shooing her away when she tries to pick up her carry-on, throwing it over his shoulder alongside his own.

“I don’t either. I’m going to get a massage when we get back to Boston.”

“Ohhh, a massage sounds nice.” He subtly sticks his elbow out for her grab, which she gratefully does, letting his tall frame guide her to their gate. “You know you didn’t have to wear heels, right?”

“You should shut up while I’m still thankful you yelled at Sean for me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sherrie leans her head on his arm as they wait in the priority boarding line, one of the perks of traveling on the company’s dime. Normally, she would worry about being more professional while carrying her work bag that had the Wells Corporation logo embroidered on it, but she can’t bring herself to care. Yesterday’s meetings ran late, and the following client dinner had kept them out until almost midnight. After packing, going to bed late, and having to get up at 3:30AM to get to the airport, she was exhausted.

She takes her bag before they scan their tickets, not fighting when he grabs it again on their walk down the jet bridge.

“Where are you sitting again?”

“I’m in 16C.” She snorts at Bradley’s pout. “What? You knew we weren’t going to be sitting together.”

“But I’m going to be bored all the way back in 21D by myself.”

“Bud, you’re going to fall asleep in the first 30 minutes like you always do, and then I would be stuck for the next four hours with you leaning and drooling on me.”

Bradley whips his head around, “That is a baseless accusation. I do not drool!”

“You 100% definitely do drool, I’ve seen it.” Her smirk widens when his attempt to fight back is cut off by the flight attendants greeting them.

He ushers Sherrie on first, politely nodding to the flight crew before following her down the aisle, ducking down to whisper. “I do not drool.”

“You absolutely do drool. You also snore.”

She can feel eyes on them as they shuffle down the aisle, making eye contact with an older woman who raises her eyebrows in appreciation at the hunk of a man behind her.

This happens everywhere they go.

Bradley is such a gentleman, always opening doors and carrying her bags, that people never believe the two are just friends and coworkers. She’s had complete strangers fight with her when she says there’s nothing between them. Unable to accept that it’s just platonic.

As much as she wishes it could be more.

After years of learning all the little details of each other, she knows they would be good together. Their decade-long friendship allowing her to thoroughly analyze how well their personalities would mesh. They share the same beliefs and have the same interests; they even have overlapping friend groups. They’re made for each other.

On paper.

In reality, it will never happen.

She won’t let it.

“Is this good here?” Bradley’s question interrupts her weekly internal spiral; his big brown eyes blink at her over his shoulder as he puts her bag into the overhead compartment.

“That’s fine. Can you grab my water bottle out of the side pocket?

“Here ya go, ma’am. I’ll meet you by the water foundation when we land, okay?”

She nods, smiling as he hustles back to his seat to avoid a family almost flattening him in their haste to get to their assigned seats.

Her seat neighbors haven’t arrived yet, so Sherrie sits down without bothering to buckle, tucking her work bag under the row in front of her after pulling out her plane kit. Her pencil case from college that she’s repurposed to hold her headphones, phone charger, gum, hand sanitizer, and a few other small necessities.

Her phone buzzes as she’s storing her water bottle and the little bag away in the pocket of the seat in front of her.

Bradley is woken up by his seat neighbor hitting his arm as he reaches to grab a drink, nodding at the guy’s apologetic face before trying to get comfortable again. Alan talked way too much at dinner last night, and it was a struggle to stay awake during the project manager’s third round of gushing over how brilliant and profitable Sherrie’s proposal would be for both companies.

“Sir? This is for you, do you want it?” The muffled question is accompanied by someone shaking his shoulder. He peels open his eyes to see the flight attendant holding out two packets of Biscoff cookies.

His face must be confused enough for the short woman to take pity on him. “Your friend up there said these are your favorite and asked me to give hers to you.”

His heart warms up, taking the treats and saying thank you. He enjoys the cookies, washing them down with the ginger ale he also got, thinking about how well Sherrie knows him. He forces himself to wait for them to finish snack service before he gets up to use the restroom.

“Thank you.” Bradley revels in the way Sherrie jumps when he pops her headphone out, purposefully brushing his lips against her ear. “Hmmm, you were right, your seatmate is cute.”

She glares up at him, a smile threatening to break through. “Isn’t he? He fell asleep five minutes after take off, just like you.”

“Yet, another baseless accusation!”

“I heard you snoring.”

“You shouldn’t lie in front of small children.”

“His mom said he’s seven months old; I don’t think we have to be concerned about teaching him to lie while he’s still in a car seat.”

“Probably shouldn’t chance it, though. Say I don’t snore.”

“You just said I shouldn’t lie. Should probably go to the bathroom before you start holding up traffic.” She puts her headphone back in, wiggling her fingers at him before going back to reading on her phone.

It gives him the strangest sense of déjà vu.

Tuesday, March 25, 2005 | 10:43 AM EST | Charlottesville, VA

“…and he said you had already-” Bradley cuts himself off, realizing she can’t hear him. He chuckles; he should have known better than to just walk up and start talking.

He doesn’t know Sherrie McHone very well. They had taken all the freshman intro to engineering requirements together, and this year their classes had split into their chosen disciplines. His mechanical, hers electrical. But he knows her well enough to know that she can pretty much only be found without her headphones during class.

He remembers the first time they spoke last semester after he accidentally walked right into her. He had told Danny it’s because she’s so much shorter than him, but it’s really because he wasn't paying attention.

Sherrie had only taken one earpiece out to make sure he was okay before continuing onto her class, seamlessly weaving between upperclassmen as she shoved her headphone back in.

“Sherrie?” No response.

He lets out a tiny huff and checks his watch. Normally, he wouldn’t care that she’s clueless to his existence even as he’s right beside her, but he’s got a class soon, and he’s still two buildings away. So he does the only thing he can.

He pops her headphones out and steps back for fear of getting smacked.

Her head whips up, narrowing in on him freakishly fast. “What the fuck, Bradshaw?”

He’s surprised to learn that she knows his name.

“Sorry, Sherrie! I’ve been trying to talk to you for like five minutes, and you somehow haven’t noticed, but I’ve got class in 15 minutes, so I needed to get your attention.”

“Oh…” Her green eyes widen in surprise, the apples of her cheeks turning a light pink. “Sorry about that. What did you need? Wait. How did you find me?”

A fair question.

“Khondker told me where you sit.” He partially fibs.

All semester he had been watching her disappear after EE221, the one class they shared. It had taken him a while, but he was pretty sure he had found her secret study nook in the electrical engineering wing of the building. Their TA had only confirmed Bradley’s theory of where he could find his fellow sophomore.

���I don’t understand this last section we’ve been learning, and Khondker said you had already finished the homework and could help me. So could you?”

“He didn’t help you?” Sherrie raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

“He tried.” Bradley scratches the back of his head, remembering how frustrated the patient man had been after his third attempt at explaining. “I just really don’t understand circuit loops. And he thought having a classmate explain it to me would make it stick. That or he was just so sick of me, he’s pawning me off.”

He watches her think, her pencil rapidly tapping against her notebook, making him nervous.

“I don’t want to be rude, but if you don’t understand current loops, I’m not sure how much help I can be. I understand the material, but I’m not a miracle worker.”

Her bluntness makes him smile. “I’m not expecting miracles, just help with the homework. If you have time.”

“Okay, just as long as you don’t get your hopes up too much.” She grabs a bright pink notebook and opens it up. “So, I’m usually free-”

“I don't want to interrupt, but I do have to get to class, so could we figure out a time later today?”

“Sure, I’ll be here until my class at four. Feel free to sit down if I’m not here; it just means I’m grabbing food.” He nods, backing away. “Wait! Bradley! Go down this hall and out the side door. You’ll be like halfway there already.”

“Awesome, thanks!” He starts to jog down the hallway, looking back to see her putting her headphones back in. Waving back when she smiles and wiggles her fingers at him before going back to her homework.

Friday, July 15, 2016 | 3:16 PM EST | Charlotte, NC

“Our flight got delayed, and I’m hungry.”

Sherrie jumps, not expecting Bradley to get that close to her face three seconds after she exited the bathroom.

“Okay, I could eat. Where do you wan-”

“Auntie Anne’s.”

He’s walking away before she can even process what he said. She allows herself one second to appreciate the way he looks, walking through the concourse - navy slacks fitting his legs perfectly and all their bags thrown over his broad shoulders - before she’s clicking along after him.

“Bradshaw!” He freezes and turns, almost taking a lanky teenager out with her backpack. “Oh my god, Bradley! Be careful! You almost took that kid’s head off.”

His smile is sheepish as she shuffles them over to the wall. “I did not do that on purpose.”

She giggles and takes her backpack from his shoulder. “Yeah, I kinda figured. But you should have seen his face. His life flashed before his eyes. All sixteen years.”

“I can carry that Sherrie.”

“That’s okay, I got it. No! Bradley!”

He ignores her, smiling at her frustrated little stomp when he hands over her tan, cross-body purse out of her work bag. “You just carry that and make sure I don’t take out any toddlers or old ladies.”

“How am I supposed to do that if I’m ahead of you?” She snarks as he steers them toward the food stands.

“You’re smart; I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Bradley laughs when she mocks him under her breath. “I can hear you, smartass.”

“You were meant to, Bradley.”

His heart flutters at the teasing wink she sends over her shoulder. It’s been twelve years since they became friends, and he still feels like that 20-year-old kid who was nervous to talk to the pretty red-headed girl he had a crush on.

He can feel eyes on them as her heels catch people’s attention, and he finds himself glaring at men who are shamelessly staring. Her shoes aren’t loud as they click along on the tile floor, but it’s hard to ignore the beautiful woman striding along in business casual.

It happens everywhere they go.

Sherrie has always been beautiful and painfully unaware of her effect on men. It never matters where they are - at work, the rare baseball game he forces her to attend, happy hour with their friends from school - she always catches attention. It doesn’t bother him because she never reciprocates, and he’s always the one to give her a ride back to her apartment.

Even if he wishes it was their apartment they were going to.

He’s watched her change over the last decade, seen her grow as a person. He’s risen through the ranks with her professionally, the two of them matching each other step for step with each promotion and raise. He’s publicly assured her that her hair still looks good as it’s deepened color with age, now less red and more auburn. He’s privately appreciated the way her body has changed, softer and curvier than when they were kids. Her wide hips are a frequent star in his daydreams.

It's the only place where they’ll ever be in a relationship.

He knows they’d be perfect together. Old friends who know each other so well they don’t even have to talk to communicate sometimes. Whose attitudes fit together like puzzle pieces, perfectly in sync with each other. He knows it won’t happen. Can’t happen.

“Grab us a table, and I’ll get the food.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t fight her about paying, knowing this will be covered under their per diem. “Don’t forget my-”

“You’re frozen lemonade, I know!”

Bradley rolls his eyes at the hand that waves over her shoulder, settling their bags at a table and keeping an eye on Sherrie while sending an update to Mav.

His thumbs hover over the keyboard. He wants to tell his uncle the whole situation - that he’s not afraid to flirt with Sherrie.

“Everything okay?”

Bradley looks up to find her eyebrows furrowed as she sets a tray down.

“All good. Just sending my family an update that we’re delayed.”

She nods, sitting in the chair across from him. “Here’s your mini pretzel dogs, with mustard and a frozen lemonade. This is my pretzel nuggets, cheese sauce, and Diet Coke. Oh! And I got us these cinnamon sugar pretzels to share!”

“Thank you for remembering the mustard.”

“Bradley, when have I ever forgotten the mustard? Here, take some napkins.”

He shoves an entire mini pretzel dog in his mouth in lieu of answering her question, which they both know the answer to. Never. She has never forgotten his love for pretzels with mustard.

They eat in comfortable silence, the way only two friends can, occasionally dunking into each other's sauces as they scroll through their phones.

“Hey, how is your da- oh Bradley! You got mustard on your shirt!” His head snaps down to his shirt, groaning when he sees the yellow blob on his white button-up.

“Fuck! This is new, too!”

Sherrie dives into her bag, muttering about a stain stick, a triumphant noise escaping when she comes up successful. Scooting closer to him, she’s hit with a wave of nostalgia as she helps him clean his shirt.

Friday, April 6, 2007 | 10:12 PM EST | Charlottesville, VA

“You should’ve been gone, knowing how I made you feel!”

Sherrie’s head pops up from the lab reports she’s grading.

“And I should've been gone, after all your words of steel!”

She knows that voice.

“Oh, I must've been a dreamer! And I must've been someone else!”

She knows that voice very well.

“And we should've been over!”

She rushes for the front door, hoping and praying that the idiot she’s become close friends with this year isn’t actually outside her townhouse.

“Oh! Sherrie, our love holds on! Holds on!”

She whips the door open and, sure enough, drunkenly singing to her neighbor's house is Bradley Bradshaw.

“Bradley!” She hisses at him, ignoring the flutters in her stomach when he points his big, goofy grin towards her and not the tulips the soccer girls next door planted in front of their bay window. “What are you doing? It’s 10 PM!”

“You didn’t come.”

“First man to ever care about that.” She mutters, snorting at her joke.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing. What are you doing here?”

His puppy dog eyes are vicious, and she has the urge to slap her hand over her eyes so she doesn’t succumb to their power. “You didn’t come to the party!”

Sherrie sighs, she thought he might be disappointed she didn’t come to the annual Sigma Chi Easter Bash, but she never thought he would actually notice her absence. Or that it would result in a drunken serenade.

“Bradley, I told you I had a lot of grading and might not make it tonight.” She gently reminds him, stifling a laugh when he trips over his own feet while standing still. “You okay?”

“I have to pee. Can I come in?”

She’s pretty sure he’s just making excuses but lets him in any way; she doesn’t need to deal with him getting a public indecency charge on top of everything else. “Shoes off, Bradshaw. Bathroom is right here; I’ll be in the dining room.”

“Yes, ma’am!” He sloppily salutes her, losing his balance and thunking against the wall, one shoe still on.

Sherrie just blinks at him before returning to her spot at the dining room table, holding in the laugh threatening to escape. She settles in her chair, focusing on the mediocre reports her students had turned in.

“I washed my hands!” Bradley’s abrupt entrance startles her. “Can we have a snack? I’m hungry?

She watches in amusement as he shuffles to her fridge, riffling through the shelves before opening the freezer and gasping.

“I love pretzels. Can we make these? Please?”

The box of pretzels belongs to her roommate, but she’s not strong enough to deny Bradley’s big brown eyes two times in a row so she makes a mental note to buy Amna a new box the next time she goes to the store. “Yeah, we can. But no touching the oven when you’re drunk. Go sit down.”

“I’m not drunk!” He argues even as he follows her directions, plopping himself at the table and nosily leafing through her done pile. “Wow, lots of red here.”

“Bradley! Don’t look at those!”

“Why not?”

“Would you want some random student looking through your homework?”

His rebuttal gets cut off by the oven beeping, announcing it’s up to temp. After she pops the tray in the oven, she turns and catches him appreciating the pj shorts riding up her shapely legs.

“What?” Her head cocks in confusion.

“Nothin'… cute shorts.”

“Thank you.” He watches in fascination as she snips at him even while her cheeks turn pink. “It’s almost like I was dressed for comfort and not planning on being interrupted.”

“But you’re glad I’m here, right?”

“I’ve had worse company on a Friday night.” She nudges him out of her chair. “While those are baking, go find something to watch, and I’m going to finish grading this report.”

“Such a responsible TA.”

Pride fills his chest as Sherrie snorts at his joke and goes back to work. They’ve officially been friends since last year, but he still tries his hardest to make her laugh. She's always so busy and stressed, and she does the cutest little snort-laugh when he catches her off guard.

He puts on a random movie, just grabbing a VHS case with the Disney logo on the side, before plopping on the couch. “Is there a reason you have so many kids movies?”

“Those are Jayla’s, she collects them.” Sherrie answers, never looking up from the table. “What did you choose?”

“It’s a surprise!”

“You don’t remember, huh?”

“Nope! I’ll be quiet now.”

She hums a thank you in his direction, and Bradley keeps his promise, watching her work and staying quiet until the timer goes off. His chin hooked on the back of the couch; he follows her movement through the kitchen as she pulls the pretzels out and transfers them to a plate.

“Can I have mustard, please?”

“Sure can.” Sherrie smiles at his dopey smile as she makes her way to the couch. “Here, take these, then we can eat.”

He gulps down the painkillers she drops in his hand, chugging the rest of the apple juice after they’re gone, smiling when she absentmindedly praises him for listening. He shoves a bite of pretzel in his mouth and mashes the play button, and is pleasantly surprised to find A Bug’s Life was the mystery choice.

“I love this movie,” he garbles through a pretzel. “I love how Flick wins over the princess just by getting a chance to show off his true self.”

“That was shockingly wise for the drunk man sprawled on my couch.”

Bradley thanks her, already a bit more sober but not enough to pick up on her teasing. “So, why didn’t you come? Grading really couldn’t wait?”

“It probably could have, but I’m not a partier, Bradley. You know that.” She dips a piece of pretzel in the mustard. “Besides, I really didn’t think you would notice I wasn’t there, Mr. Popular.”

“You’re the only person I invited; of course, I noticed when you didn’t show up.”

“Really? No one else? Why?”

“I know it’s almost finals, but I wanted to hang out without any books in front of us; that’s all we do lately. Study. Plus, you’ve been extra stressed about something that you don’t want to talk about, and I just wanted you to relax since you won’t talk to me about whatever is bothering you.”

“That’s sweet of you, Bradley. It’s not that I don’t want to tell you; it’s just that my family has been…” She waves a hand through the air, a deep sigh escaping. “It’s complicated. I’m trying not to think about it too much.”

“Well, I’m here if you do want to talk.”

“Thanks bud. How about you? How’re your parents?” She takes one last chunk before nudging the plate in his direction and settling back into the corner.

“Mom is good; she’s close to being considered cancer-free. I think we’re gonna throw a party when she gets there.”

“That’s awesome, Bradley! I’m glad she’s doing so well. How’s your dad?”

“Mav isn’t my dad.”

A record scratch plays in Sherrie’s head as she freezes. She knows she’s heard Bradley talk about his dad, and she’d seen photos of his parents the one time she had visited his frat house last year. He had specifically pointed the photo out, telling her it was his parents. She had even been next to him when he was on the phone when he said “dad” to the person on the other end.

“My dad died when I was three. Mav is- was his best friend. I call him dad sometimes because he’s the closest thing I’ve got.”

Sherrie feels her heart break as Bradley sniffles and sadly shoves a mustard-covered pretzel in his mouth, unshed tears clumping his eyelashes. She’s never seen her friend like this before; she’s experienced many other emotions - frustration, joy, confusion - but the pain creasing his brow is new.

Comforting crying people has never been her forte, but instinctively - almost like they moved without her permission - Sherrie’s fingers run over his hair. Gently stroking the sun-streaked waves as a few tears escape down his cheeks and she scoots closer, letting her body press into his side and hoping the proximity helps.

“I’m sorry for crying on you.” He quietly apologizes after a few minutes of tears.

“S’okay. Family can be hard sometimes.”

“Complicated.”

“That too.” She hums, not moving as he swipes at his eyes and leans against her more, his head resting on her shoulder in a slouched position that can’t be comfortable.

“I love Mav; he’s my dad in all the ways it matters. It just sucks that my actual dad won’t be here for graduation. Like, I know he’s missed so much of my life already, but something about him missing college graduation is worse than everything else. It’s just so unfair; I barely remember him, but I just- I just miss him so much, Sherrie.”

Her heart cracks in half at the whispered confession. She can’t even imagine the pain of losing a parent at such a young age. The inability to remember one of the people responsible for giving you life, all memories fuzzy and most built from second-hand recollections of those who can remember. So she says the one thing she would want to hear.

“Tell me about him.”

Sherrie knows she said the right thing when his red-rimmed eyes brighten, and he immediately launches into a beloved story detailing his father’s love of pranks. She listens dutifully — laughing at the right moments and asking questions when Bradley gets carried away, forgetting that she doesn’t know all the people in his story — and feels her heart warm more and more. She’s always liked Bradley, probably more than she should, but it’s hard not to like him. He’s considerate, smart, and funny, not to mention handsome.

Thankfully, before she gets lost in thoughts of broad shoulders and strong jawlines, a big glob of mustard drops on Bradley’s t-shirt, abruptly cutting him off. The two stare in silence at the yellow condiment sitting on the black cotton shirt, somehow surprised at its appearance, before breaking down into giggles.

“C’mon Bradshaw,” Sherrie grabs his hand, pulling him off the couch. “I have a Tide pen we can use on that mess.”

Bradley follows her up the stairs and into the bathroom, teasing Sherrie about the way her tongue pokes out when she focuses. She takes the gentle taunts, grateful he’s focusing on that and not on her pink cheeks or the way her eyes keep darting to his toned stomach. She’s not sure it was completely necessary for him to strip his shirt off, but she won’t be complaining.

“Well,” A few minutes later, she interrupts his rambling story about a slip and slide. Or she thinks that’s what it’s about; she missed the first part. “I think this is as good as I can get it.”

“That’s okay; it’s not like it’s new or anything. Thanks, Sherrie.”

She steadfastly ignores the pounding heart in her chest as miles of golden skin gets covered back up, trying to not feel too disappointed by its disappearance.

Friday, July 15, 2016 | 3:56 PM EST | Charlotte, NC

“Oh, this is ridiculous!” Bradley complains a bit too loudly, ears going hot when several pairs of eyes curiously dart toward him, but his focus doesn’t stay on that for very long when he catches the face Sherrie makes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!”

He squints suspiciously as she avoids eye contact. He usually takes her at her word and doesn’t push, but the frown pulling down the corners of her pink lips sets off bells in his head. “Sherrie, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Bradley. I’m fine.”

He grumbles at her lack of response but settles again in the spot they had claimed after finishing their snack. The gate was still packed, but they had found a prime location with outlets; the only downside was having to sit on the floor, something that is getting harder the older they get.

Bradley scans the area, trying to scout out some open chairs for them to grab, while Sherrie goes back to the movie they’ve been watching on his phone. His eyes drop away from the chairs in surprise when she scoots closer and leans on his shoulder. It’s not uncommon for them to sit close like this at home in Boston, sides pressed together, but she makes a point to be professional when they’re on travel.

“Hey,” he gently nudges her side, concern rising when she doesn’t lift her head, choosing to tilt her neck back, looking up at him with tired eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Panic grips his chest when tears start forming, clouding her green eyes. “Sherrie?! What’s wrong?”

“We were supposed to be halfway home by now, and I’m so uncomfortable. I’m sorry, Bradley, I’m just so tired.” She whimpers, hiding against his bicep.

It hits him like a glass of cold water. Of course, she’s uncomfortable. She’s been walking around in heels and her pantsuit since 4AM California time after getting maybe three hours of sleep. His suit and shoes are comfortable and easily wearable for twelve-plus hours, not to mention the jacket and tie that were ditched sometime after the mustard incident.

“Oh, Sherrie, it’s okay. Let’s go change, yeah? Then we’ll find a quieter place so you can close your eyes and maybe get some sleep.”

“But the policy…”

Bradley resists the urge to roll his eyes at her insistence on rule-following. “In the nicest way possible, Sher, fuck the policy. You’re uncomfortable, and I care about that way more than I could ever care about a stupid, archaic policy.”

He stands, unplugging their phones and gathering their bags on his shoulder before turning to his best friend, who is still on the floor. “C’mon, we’re putting comfy clothes on.”

“But Bradley-”

“No arguing.” He interrupts, helping her off the ground and directing them back towards the restrooms. “We’re not going to sit in our suits for god knows how much longer.”

“But Bradley, I don’t have anything to change into. We had such a packed schedule I didn’t bother to bring normal clothes.” He ignores the thumping of his heart when her hand grabs his forearm, warm fingers slipping under the edge of the rolled-up sleeve as she tugs to slow his pace. At that information, he slides them out of the flow of traffic and over to the wall, Bradley pressing her against one of the columns lining the concourse atrium.

“You don’t have any regular clothes? What about your pajamas?”

“I have a pair of leggings because I was going to do a training run in the gym last night, but that’s it. I can’t wear my pjs because… well, they’re not appropriate for public.”

“Your leggings are clean, though, right?” He asks, ignoring the thoughts of what non-public appropriate pajamas might look like.

“Well, yeah, dinner went so late I barely had time to sleep before we had to be up. I guess I could buy a shirt at one of the SmartShop- what are you doing?”

Bradley peers up from his knees, where he had started digging in his bag. “I’m grabbing one of my shirts for you. Would you prefer a t-shirt or a sweatshirt? Actually, you’re definitely gonna get cold, sweatshirt for you.”

He pulls the worn, gray crew neck out, shaking it out before handing it over.

“You still have this?” The disbelief in her voice makes him laugh.

“Of course, I still have that! Relay was always my favorite event of the year. And that year was my favorite one.”

As the philanthropy chair of Sigma Chi, part of his job was to sign the brothers up for volunteer events and fundraisers. With his mom’s diagnosis, he ensured their schedule included the campus’ annual Relay for Life event, pouring as many resources as he could into the fundraiser that directly helped advance cancer research.

“Wait, but why was junior year your favorite?” She asks, brushing her fingers over the cracked, screen-printed logo.

“Because that’s the reason we became friends, Sher.”

Surprised green eyes meet sincere brown eyes, a thousand words said in the silence of their stares, both remembering the lead-up to that day in April so many years ago.

Bradley’s eyes widen in panic as everyone at the gate starts moving as a herd. They had finally found seats to relax in after changing, the group of passengers waiting with them shrinking as time went on. And now, with only ten minutes until boarding, their gate has changed again.

“Sherrie, wake up!” He feels bad shaking the snoozing woman off, but they have to move with the group to make it to the new part of Terminal A in time for their flight. “C’mon, honey, they changed the gate again — we gotta go!”

“What are you- again?! Shit!” She wipes the bleariness from her eyes, slinging her bags over her shoulder and grabbing the hand he holds out.

The two coworkers, along with fifty of their fellow passengers who have stuck this out, speed walk down the first branch of the terminal. The entire group picking up the pace when turning the corner towards the second branch where the new gate lives. By the time they hit the second branch, everyone is practically running — time ticking down to boarding — no one wanting to miss this flight.

As if the blob of Flight 1121 passengers racing toward the end of the terminal didn’t garner attention from other gates, the entire terminal is staring by the time they reach gate A28, and several people start yelling in frustration.

“This is unbelievable!” An older gentleman’s unhappiness is interrupted by three simultaneous updates pinging everyone’s phones.

Bradley’s head drops back in disbelief, wrapping his arm around Sherrie when her head thunks against his chest. He doesn’t even get a chance to comfort her before the gate agents are making announcements about getting people on other flights, providing hotel rooms, and the vouchers that will be shared.

“Again, we apologize, but if you have flexible travel plans, we ask that you please go to the end of the line so those with time constraints can be taken care of first. Thank you for your cooperation, folks!”

“Well, that’s us, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Sherrie blows air out of her lips, a mischievous smile taking over her face. “Hey, at least this means extra per diem money.”

Bradley laughs as they move to the back of the squiggly line that’s forming, letting her take the bags so he can step away to call to update their supervisor and then his pet sitter. It only takes a few rings for his boss to pick up. “Bradshaw! What’s up? You okay?”

“Hey Martin, all good. Just wanted to let you know that our flight has gotten supremely delayed. We won’t be home until tomorrow morning sometime.”

“Jesus, do you guys need anything?”

“Nah, we’re good. The airline is putting us up in a hotel for the night and giving vouchers for a bunch of stuff. Just called to let you know and for a heads up on the expense report.”

“Well, that is the most important part!” Martin’s honking laugh makes Bradley chuckle as he glances to check on Sherrie’s progress in line. “How’s Sherrie? She good?”

“Yeah, she’s good. She’s holding our spot in line for getting new tickets and stuff.” And it looks like she’s made friends already, he silently adds, smiling at her interacting with the elderly couple in front of her.

“Good. Alright then, I’ll see you on Monday, but let me know if you guys need anything. And hey! If you two end up in the same hotel room — remember what I said on your first day!”

The line goes dead, and so does Bradley’s smile, his stomach churning like it does every time he remembers his first day at the Wells Corporation.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007 | 11:15 AM EST | Boston, MA

“Will you calm down?”

“I can’t, Bradley. What if no one likes me? What if I fuck up?!” She hisses, working to appear calm as they wait for their supervisor to show up, but failing.

“First of all, we’re starting together, so you have at least one person that likes you. And you’re great, everyone will like you. Second, there will be mistakes, but we just graduated — they’re not going to let us do anything alone because we don’t know anything yet.”

Sherrie nods, tucking her hands under her legs and trying to breathe. Bradley’s words are encouraging, but he doesn’t know how difficult her internship was last summer. The older engineers she shadowed treated her like a glorified coffee girl and secretary. Even when she had pointed out a mistake they all had missed, there was no change — just the addition of making her type their reports to see if she could catch something the non-engineer tech writers would miss.

This is a brand new company, but misogyny wasn’t unique to Waite Green Construction. Every woman has to work twice as hard to prove her worth and intellect, no matter her age or experience. She’s just hoping her onboarding mentor will be the only other woman in the department; it would be the perfect way to gain a professional mentor once she’s out of the probation period.

“Good morning, kids! How was orientation?” Mr. Teresi walks into the conference room.

Bradley shakes his hand first, “It was good, sir. Nice to see you again.”

“Good to hear! Learn lots of new things.”

“Yes, I think we can be considered experts on trade secrets now.” Sherrie jokes, focusing on making sure her handshake is firm but not too firm.

“Wonderful. So, I’m guessing you two have been introduced, but just in case you haven’t. Bradley, this is Sherrie McHone; she’s an electrical engineer. And Sherrie, this is Bradley Bradshaw, a mechanical engineer.”

“We actually went to school together, sir.”

“We’re friends,” Bradley adds, the two of them exchanging small smiles.

“Oh, great! Well, that makes things easier getting started. Now let’s go over my plan for the two of you, and then we’ll get lunch, my treat for your first day.”

Their supervisor talks for half an hour, going over things they’ll need to be trained in and their first assignments. By the time he’s done, several notebook pages have been filled and highlighted with things that need to be looked up.

“Alright!” The older engineer claps, rubbing his hands together. “I’m sure your brains are overloaded with information, so go drop your things at your desks, and we’ll head to lunch.”

The recent graduates gather their notes and head for the door, quietly talking about a training they’ll be attending next week when he stops them. “One more thing, guys. They never mention it during R&D orientation, but I feel it’s necessary to mention it to new people. Here at Wells, there isn’t a fraternization policy among non-management coworkers or between any employees in different divisions. But we are a fairly small department, so keep in mind who you interact with and what impacts that may have at work.”

Sherrie feels the blood drain from her already pale face as her brand new supervisor stares at her the entire time he speaks, ignoring Bradley completely. She’s going to be sick. Less than four hours into the first professional role of her career, and it’s already happening.

This is the moment it starts, she thinks, her heart pounding in her throat as she robotically nods. It’s never the men that get these warnings. It’s always the women. Always us. Always me.

“I don’t care about that. But there are some people who will, even though they shouldn’t. And I want you guys to have the best experience here you possibly can. You’re both extremely bright, and I’m excited about your futures. I don’t want you to get bogged down by the opinions of others. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” They answer in unison before filing out of the conference room.

“Sherrie, don’t worry about that. He’s just-”

“Trust me, Bradley. I know exactly what he was saying. I’m going to use the restroom, and then I’ll meet you guys at the elevator.”

“Sherrie…”

But she ignores her friend, shrugging her purse over her shoulder and keeping her face neutral as she heads for the single-stall ladies’ room. Fighting to hold the tears back until she’s inside for fear of being perceived as emotional. A quality no woman can afford to have in a professional setting.

Friday, July 15, 2016 | 8:05 PM EST | Charlotte, NC

“Hey, everything? Martin says hi.”

“We’re good! This is Mr. and Mrs. Ludden; they’re going to visit their newest granddaughter. How’re Sophie and Louis?” Bradley smiles at the excited way she introduces them, putting a steadying hand on her back when she bounces up on her toes.

“Oh, congrats! They’re good; Marie can watch’em one more day, problem.”

“Good, we’ll have to get her a thank you present for the short notice.”

“You didn’t tell us you guys had kids!”

Bradley and Sherrie freeze in place, eyes widening in surprise at the older woman’s words.

“Oh- uh- we-” Sherrie giggles awkwardly. “Sophie and Louis are our cats; we don’t have kids.”

“I’m so sorry!” Mrs. Ludden gasps, hand covering her mouth in shock while her husband groans her name.

“Louise, how many times do we have to do this before you stop making assumptions?”

“It’s okay, innocent mistake,” Bradley assures them.

“Well, they’re such a cute couple. I just thought they would have adorable children, too!”

“Actually… we’re not…”

“Oh, lord. Let me guess. You’re not dating. You’re just friends.”

“Coworkers too, but we were friends first.” Sherrie suppresses a laugh when the older gentleman rubs a hand over his eyes in exasperation.

“Don’t even start, Clayton!”

“I wasn’t going to, dear.”

Bradley can’t help the laugh that escapes at the comfortable ribbing they give each other; it reminds him of his friendship with Sherrie. The easy way they tease, never going too far.

“Would you two like to join us after we get rebooked?” Bradley asks. “We’re going to use our food vouchers tonight to grab dinner before we head to whatever hotel they put us up in.”

The four adults move through the line, chatting about small things and comparing pictures of grandkids and cats. It’s a nice way to spend the time, especially when they get to share judging looks when a woman throws a tantrum and yells at the gate agent. But soon enough, they’re walking back to the main concourse and deciding what food to get.

“No, stop. You just sit here with the bags, and I’ll grab the food.” Bradley gently pushes Sherrie back into her chair, rolling his eyes as he talks over her protests. “I know. You want mac and cheese, Diet Coke, and whatever pulled pork flavor looks best.”

“He’s sweet,” Louise says, watching the two men make their way over to the BBQ place.

“He’s annoying.” Which makes her companion laugh. “Yes, he’s very sweet. I’m lucky to be such good friends with him.”

“Can I ask why the two of you aren’t together? He even knows what food to bring you.”

“It’s just never been like that between us. We’ve always just been friends. And he’s annoyingly smart, so he always remembers what I order.” Sherrie half smiles, pushing down the pain in her chest at the harmless curiosity, watching Bradley laugh at something Clayton says as she remembers the first time he remembered one of her favorites.

Saturday, March 4, 2006 | 1:34 PM EST | Charlottesville, VA

“Thanks for meeting me on a Saturday, Bradshaw. It’s just such a busy semester.”

“No problem. You know you can call me Bradley, right?”

“Oh, sorry. Do you not like being called Bradshaw?” Sherrie blinks when a bottle of Diet Coke and a small bag of Skittles is set on the table in front of her. “What’s this?”

“Your favorite snack.”

“Right… but why?”

“Because you have that about 50% of the time when we meet up to work on this project. Now, I finished transcribing the interview with Commander Buck last night. Did you want to- Sherrie?”

She shifts her focus from the food to the boy across from her in the study nook they’ve claimed as theirs for the semester. “Why do you remember my favorite snack?”

“Because we’re friends?” Brown eyes look into hers, equally confused.

“We’re friends?”

“I hope so; otherwise, this is gonna get awkward when you hug me in a minute.”

“Why am I going to hug you?!”

Bradley laughs at her flabbergasted expression, but it doesn’t hurt her feelings like it does when other people laugh at her. Something about the tone of the laugh makes it feel like he’s laughing at her, but rather with her, and she just doesn’t know the joke yet.

“Because as team captain, I am happy to announce to the Relay Chair that Sigma Chi has officially raised $5,000 thanks to your idea.”

“Bradley, that’s incredible!” She doesn’t feel silly when she bounces around the table to hug his neck, rocking them back and forth in excitement.

“Well, if you think that’s good - let me show you what we’re anticipating to raise this month…”

Friday, July 15, 2016 | 10:12 PM EST | Charlotte, NC

“I just don’t understand how we’re having such bad luck!”

Sherrie rolls her eyes as he unlocks the door. “Bradley, breathe. You’re being very dramatic right now.”

“How is “we’re out of rooms” a legitimate reason for the hotel to give? Not that I mind sharing with you, but like how is that possible? The airline specifically works with them to book rooms for things like this! And the airline! That gate agent who wanted to book us to fly into Hartford and then drive the rest of the way to Boston! That's insane!”

“I don’t know, the Bradley flying into Bradley joke was pretty funny.” She mutters, clicking the lights on as she checks the cleanliness of the room.

“It wasn’t.” Bradley pouts, flopping onto the bed closest to the door. “Do you want to shower first?”

“No, go ahead, but I’m going to wash my face first so I can do a face mask. I’m so dry from the airport air.” He listens to the sounds of water running and the quiet humming as she carefully applies the drenched sheet to her skin. “All yours!”

“Thanks, Sher. I won’t be long.”

He showers quickly but takes extra time cleaning his teeth, his mouth feeling gross after the long travel day. When he comes out, he’s surprised at how cozy the room feels. With only one lamp on, the air conditioning set low to keep the fan running, and an old movie on the TV, it almost feels like they could be at home in his living room. They silently move around each other, Sherrie heading to the bathroom with a pile of things while Bradley organizes his things for the morning, wanting to get as much rest as possible before their early alarm.

He scrolls through emails and texts while he waits for her to shower, turning the television off since he knows there’s a small chance of either of them making it five minutes after they kill the lights. He's updating Mav on tomorrow’s travel plans when Sherrie comes out of the bathroom, her hair wrapped in a towel. Bradley sees her packing things out of the corner of his eye, not fully paying attention until he plugs his phone in.

“That’s what you wear to bed?”

“Bradley!” He laughs at how she jumps, her hands coming down to cover her shorts.

“What? They’re cute! Very pink.”

Her face goes as pink as the pajama set she’s wearing. “Stop making fun of me!”

“I’m not! You know, I love strawberries.” He can’t help the way his eyes roam up and down her body, admiring from the spaghetti straps on her smooth shoulders to the scalloped edge of her shorts. “I see why you didn’t want to change into those at the airport.”

“Oh my god…” She huffs, climbing into her own queen bed and stuffing herself under the sheets. “You set an alarm, right?”

“Yes, ma’am. Want me to turn the light off?”

“Please. God, this day cannot be over soon enough.”

He chuckles and turns the lamp off, listening to her shuffle around in the sheets as she gets comfortable. It’s quiet for a few minutes, and he can hear her breathing leveling out, but he can’t keep quiet; the conversation at the airport running through his mind.

“Sher?” It takes a second, but she quietly hums in response. “We have to talk about it again.”

“No, we don’t.”

“Sherrie-”

“No, Bradley. We talked about this two weeks ago. Nothing has changed since then.”

“Yes, things have changed since then. You interviewed for that principal engineer position. Which if you get-”

“I’m not going to get it. They’re going to pick Trevor.”

“They’re going to pick you. You’re the best person for the job!”

“That’s not how it works, and you know it.”

He’s silent, the crushing weight on his chest feeling heavier when he hears her sniffle.

“Oh, Sherrie…” He slips out of his bed and into hers, wrapping the woman he loves in his arms. He lets her cry, knowing she’s frustrated and exhausted, only speaking up again when she’s calmed down. “I’m sorry, honey.”

“No, I’m sorry, Bradley. It’s not fair that we’ve been dancing around this for so many years, and I keep saying no. You deserve someone who isn’t afraid to be with you. Not a coward like me.”

“You’re not a coward; you’re one of the bravest people I know, Sherrie Anne McHone. I know how critical people are of women, in this field especially. And I love you, so I don’t mind waiting until we’re in a position that you’re confident won’t jeopardize your career. So, we’ll wait to hear about the job, and once you hear that you’ve gotten it, I’m treating you to the nicest dinner in Boston.”

“Bradley, we don’t know-”

“I know we don’t know. But think about how it would be if it does. Wouldn’t that be amazing?”

“But what about-”

“Doesn’t matter, honey.”

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say.” Sherrie mumbles, cuddling further into his side, making it clear that he wasn’t allowed to leave.

“I know, but it doesn’t matter, whatever it is — we’ll figure it out.”

Saturday, July 16, 2016 | 10:32 AM EST | Somewhere over Virginia

“She’ll take a ginger ale; thank you so much.” Bradley balances his apple juice, the two packets of Biscoff cookies, and the bubbling soda he got for Sherrie. The smiling flight attendant moves past their row as he turns to his row companion.

They’re finally on their way home after waking up to more delay announcements. The additional time meant there was time to get coffee and some fruit from the hotel before their taxi back to the airport arrived, and the Luddens had even stopped to chat for a second at the gate, excited that they had gotten bumped up to first class since the flight was nearly empty.

All things considered, it had been a good morning even though Sherrie was insisting on working during the flight. Bradley is sure it’s an attempt to ignore their talk from last night, not wanting to dwell on the emotional moment when things are still so up in the air.

He looks over at the woman he’s known since he was eighteen, overwhelmed for a moment by how little things have changed since the first time he ever noticed her. Bradley fondly watches as she furiously types, hunched over her laptop with headphones, playing what he knows is eighties hair bands.

Her nose wrinkles in frustration, and suddenly it’s 2003 again, and he’s trying to get the attention of the red-haired girl whose table has the only empty chair left, something he desperately needs since this book can’t leave the library. He’s unable to get her attention and resorts to knocking on the table, heart skipping a beat when the prettiest green eyes he’s ever seen blink up at him. Bradley gestures at the empty chair, silently asking if he can sit, and is grateful when she nods because her smile is making his knees wobble. For the next hour, he tries to take notes for his paper, but he keeps getting distracted by the beautiful girl across from him. Bradley isn’t sure if he’s upset or happy when she packs up her stuff and leaves, giving him a little wave when she notices him watching her.

That had been thirteen years ago, and her intense focus still distracts him, but he’s not afraid to interrupt her this time. Fingers rub her arm that is covered in his sweatshirt again, but this time, he knows it smells like her shampoo instead of his cologne. Her smile still sends his heart skipping when she looks up at him, her pretty eyes widening in joy when she catches sight of the red snack packaging and the plastic cup holding her second favorite soda.

“Thank you!” She whispers, leaning across the empty middle seat in their row to kiss his cheek. “Oh, and we should go out to lunch when we get back! I want to try that new noodle place that opened in Southie.”

He just smiles when she immediately gets back to work; cheek puffed out from the cookie she stuffed in her mouth.

Maybe she’s not avoiding our talk from last night.

Thursday, August 11, 2017 | 2:15 PM EST | Boston, MA

“You got a minute?” Bradley knocks on the edge of her cubicle. It may be a different floor of their building, but all of the office space is the same dated stuff from decades ago.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“First of all…” He ducks down and presses a swift kiss to her plush mouth, still trying to make up for all those years he couldn’t. “And don’t say anything because I already checked before I did because I wanted to kiss my girl.”

He chuckles at the pink spots that shine on her cheeks. It’s been a year since Sherrie snagged the promotion, and they officially became an item, but she still turns a little red whenever he says something sweet.

“Second, you are all packed, right?”

“Yes, why?”

“I was gonna swing by the apartment and get our bags so we can head straight to the airport after work.”

“You took the afternoon off? Why?”

Bradley was expecting this question and smoothly fibs. “I worked the hours out with Martin for this week so I could run a few last-minute errands. Do you want me to grab snacks?”

“Okay, Mr. Secrets. When you’re at home, could you water the ivy? I forgot this morning, and I don’t want it to die while we’re gone.”

“Of course! Need me to do anything else?”

Sherrie hums, staring at the ceiling as she thinks. “One more kiss?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Bradley happily complies with her request.

“Okay, now you have to go. I have to finish prepping for this meeting where I get to yell at Sean.”

“That’s my girl. I’ll pick you up later. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Have fun with your mysterious errands.” Sherrie teases, and Bradley smirks back, knowing how much she would be freaking out if he knew what he would be doing while she professionally reamed out their least favorite colleague.

“Thanks, honey. Text me if you think of something.” Sherrie waves over her shoulder, already zoned back into her work.

Bradley doesn’t dare look at his buzzing phone until he’s safely on the elevator, pleased to see confirmation texts from their hotel and the airline. Would it be cheesy to quietly propose in the airport that was a catalyst in their relationship? Maybe, but he knew Sherrie would love it. He’s just hoping the TSA didn’t call out the ring that would be hiding in his carry-on.

#deltasupremacy I also want to give a special thanks to @sometimesanalice, who gave so much encouragement through the texts despite having no idea what I was writing - you're the best! tagged some friends and most those who interacted with the original announcement post for this fic all those months ago!

tagging: @gretagerwigsmuse @sometimesanalice @laracrofted @theharddeck @hangmanbrainrot @hangmanssunnies @thesewordsareallihavetogive @princessphilly @katieshook02 @atarmychick007 @kmc1989 @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @misfitpeach @luckyladycreator2 @scarlettwidow19 @mini-bee-bee @midnightstarqueen @shamelessghostwagonwobbler

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[runninriot]

Hurt full of Hope (i'll be the pit to your pendulum)

prompt: "I thought we agreed it was over." | rated: E | wc: 4.307 | cw: sexual content, emotional breakdown, unhealthy coping mechanisms | tags: 'friends' with benefits, pining, Eddie is a mess, Steve is a mess too but in a different way, emotional hurt, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending | complete fic on ao3

written for @steddieangstyaugust day 27

The grip in his hair is tight, almost possessive, as strong hands guide him further down the pulsing intrusion blocking his airways. It burns, makes tears well up in his eyes, and Eddie has to fight the urge to cough but at the same time-

he hasn’t felt this good in days.

The familiar stretch of his lips around the girth is heavenly like the scent flooding his nostrils as his nose is pressed into soft skin and coarse hair.

Eddie chokes, feels saliva dripping uncontrollably out of the corners of his mouth and down his chin, making a mess between the other guy’s thighs.

A rough tug brings him back up, lets him breathe for a moment before he’s forced back down.

   “Ah! Yeah, just like that! You always know how to make me feel good, Eddie.”

The praise is like a drug; he’s always been too weak to withstand the drawing power of it, the toxic concoction he knows is killing him slowly each time he goes back for more.

Eddie swallows, sucks, licks as if his life depends on it. And maybe, in a way, it does.

Because this is all he has, all he is.

It’s all he can offer to get what he desperately craves in return - affection, at least. Not love. But everything is better than nothing.

   “Fuckin’- God! Look at you, Eddie. You’re such a mess!”

Isn’t that the truth. The bitter, undeniable truth.

He knows it’s wrong, that he shouldn’t settle for this. Shouldn’t give himself up for a quick blowjob in the back of the car, out on the side of the road where no one can see them. No candle light, no soft sheets, no comfort – just the dirty act of being used for pleasure because somehow, that’s all he’s good for.

And Eddie must be good. Why else would Steve keep coming back after he dumped him?

   ‘I thought we agreed it was over,’ Eddie had dared to say the first time Steve called him again in the middle of the night, asking if he wanted to meet. Said it as if they’d both made that the decision, when in reality-

    ‘You didn’t want to do this anymore.’

Steve had laughed at his words, told him to stop pretending that he didn’t want it just as much.

And he was right; Eddie wants this.

He’s desperate for it.

Because while for Steve their hook-ups had always just been a casual thing, for Eddie it’s always been so much more.

Steve knows that, knows that Eddie’s in love with him. That he wants to be more than just a toy, a warm body, a willing mouth.

That’s why Steve told him to get fucked – before he came back five days later to fuck him once more.

Then again, and again, and each time, Eddie says yes. Each time he puts up with the ache in his heart just to have Steve for a little while longer.

He knows it’s stupid, knows it’ll only end in one-sided misery. That no matter how good he is, no matter how many times Steve comes back to him, he’ll never stay.

Steve will use him up, drain him until he has nothing more to give and then, inevitably, he’ll throw him away like a broken tool.

Eddie’s throat aches because he keeps himself down, forcefully overstepping that fine line between good and too much as he constricts helplessly around the tip of Steve’s cock until he comes, spills his release and fills his mouth with bittersweet poison.

   “A-ha, oh fuck! That’s it, take it all in.”

Eddie doesn’t need to be told, greedily swallows Steve’s cum along with his pride, tastes bitterness on his tongue in more ways than one.

And when he’s done, Steve pulls him up quickly, doesn’t even look at him while he tucks himself back into his boxers and jeans.

    So, he’s not gonna fuck me today, Eddie thinks with too much regret.

He would’ve let him. Would’ve let Steve press him face-down, ass-up into the backseat and fuck him hard. Would’ve wanted it to hurt because then he’d have something to drown out the pain in his chest.

   “Need me to take you home?”

Eddie wants to say yes, wants to have just a few more minutes with him. But he declines the offer, knows they would only drive in awkward silence and he already feels like crying, doesn’t want Steve to see how broken he is.

   “Nah, it’s fine. I’ll walk,” Eddie answers quietly, voice hoarse.

He can still taste Steve on his lips, has his senses full of him. It clings to him, like it’s part of him, like it lives there in every cell – Steve is everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

And it hurts. It fucking hurts.

He pulls the handle with too much force when he opens the door, trying to keep himself steady. He feels dizzy and his legs tremble when he steps out of the car.

   “You sure you’re good?” Steve calls after him but Eddie doesn’t turn around, just pushes the door shut and starts walking.

He waits until he hears the engine go off, waits until he can see the headlights passing in his peripheral vision before he lets the tears flow.

The night air is warm but inside, Eddie feels cold. He shivers, wraps his arms around his middle, tries to calm his breathing but nothing helps because everything hurts. His jaw, his throat, his heart most of all and-

No more. He can’t do this anymore because if he doesn’t put an end to this torture, it’ll be the end of him.

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