Among Thieves (Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader) โ Masterlist
A Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader Story
Three years after Steve Rogers chose a different life, Tony Stark's younger sister has learned to survive by burying herself in work, carrying grief that never quite loosened its grip. The last person she expects to find herself relying on is James "Bucky" Barnes, a man haunted by a past he can never erase.
Thrown together through the events of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier and Thunderbolts, two people who have spent years believing they were too broken to be chosen slowly discover that healing isn't found in forgetting the past; it's found in letting someone stay.
A slow-burn romance about grief, redemption, second chances, and the quiet ways love begins: a borrowed jacket, a shared blanket, late-night conversations, almost-kisses, and two people learning that home was never a place.
Sometimes... it was a person.
Masterlist
Updated 07/18/26
ACT I โ THE END OF ONE LIFE
The world survived Thanos. You aren't sure you did.
Chapter 1 โ Proof That Tony Stark Has a Heart
Chapter 2 โ Five Seconds
Chapter 3 โ The Weight of a Symbol
ACT II โ LEARNING HOW TO LIVE
Working beside Bucky Barnes was never supposed to become personal.
Chapter 4 โ Old Wounds
Chapter 5 โ The Devil You Know
Chapter 6 โ Masks
Chapter 7 โ The Ghosts of Who We Were
Chapter 8 โ Quiet Places
Chapter 9 โ Debts
Chapter 10 โ Breaking Points
ACT III โ A Place at the Table
Some people don't save you all at once. They simply refuse to leave.
Chapter 11 โ Home Isn't a Place
Chapter 12 โ A Couple of Guys
Chapter 13 โ Captain America
Chapter 14 โ The Things We Don't Say
ACT IV โ Long Way Home
The world is ending. Again. Only this time, neither of you has to face it alone.
Chapter 15 โ Bob
Chapter 16 โ The Things We Bury
Chapter 17 โ What We Become
Chapter 18 โ The Sentry
Chapter 19 โ The Void
Chapter 20 โ Sunrise
ACT V โ HOME
Some endings aren't endings at all. Sometimes...they're the beginning.
Chapter 21 โ New Avengers
Chapter 22 โ Among Thieves
Chapter 23 โ Chosen
Chapter 24 โ The Long Way Home
Chapter 25 โ Sunrise
Chapter 26 โ Home
Chapter 27 โ Epilogue
Author's Note
Welcome to Among Thieves. ๐ค
This is an original character (OC) story set within the MCU, told primarily in second-person POV.bucky
The protagonist is Tony Stark's younger sister and Steve Rogers' former fiancรฉe, following her journey alongside Bucky Barnes after the events of Avengers: Endgame.
If you enjoy slow burns, mutual healing, found family, longing, and a healthy dose of 1940s Bucky Barnes charm, I hope you'll feel right at home here.
Thank you so much for giving this story a chance. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it. โค๏ธ
The print shop in Red Hook looked dead from the street.
Its sign was faded. Its windows were papered over from the inside. A notice from the city hung crooked near the door, weather-softened and half peeled away. It sat between a shuttered appliance repair store and a narrow parking lot full of weeds, forgotten by everyone except the people who had use for forgotten places.
Buckyโs convoy stopped two blocks away.
Convoy was not the word anyone used, but it was the word that fit. Three cars. Nine men. Steve in the back seat beside you, Bucky in front, his metal hand resting on his thigh with terrible stillness. You wore a coat too large for you, one Steve had handed over without comment after cutting the tags from the sleeve. Your arm pulsed beneath the bandage. The pain helped. It kept you sharp.
Bucky passed a gun back to Steve.
Steve checked it, then passed it to you grip-first.
You looked at him.
โBucky said you donโt carry unless he gives you a weapon,โ Steve said.
You took the gun. โAnd did he?โ
Bucky looked at you in the rearview mirror. โIโm giving you Steve.โ
Steveโs mouth tilted.
You rolled your eyes. โThat was almost smooth.โ
โAlmost?โ
โDonโt fish for praise. Itโs unbecoming in a crime boss.โ
Buckyโs gaze held yours in the mirror.
Then he said, โWhen this is done, Iโll earn it properly.โ
The car went very quiet.
Your fingers tightened around the gun.
Steve turned his head slowly toward the window, but not before you saw the heat in his face.
Oh, you thought, pulse tripping.
Bucky Barnes was flirting back now.
That seemed dangerous for the entire city.
You looked down at the gun and checked the magazine because it gave your hands something productive to do. โSafety?โ
โOff,โ Steve said. โYou know how to use it.โ
Again, not a question.
โYes.โ
โThen donโt make me regret giving it to you.โ
โYou didnโt. Bucky gave me you.โ
Steve looked at you then.
The dim light from the street caught the side of his face, turning his expression into something intimate and unreadable. โThat what you want?โ
The question slid under your skin.
Bucky was watching in the mirror.
You should have made a joke. You were good at those. You had built a life out of turning sharp corners into exits.
Instead, you said, โI havenโt decided what I want.โ
Steveโs gaze dropped to your mouth. โWhen you do, say it clearly.โ
Bucky opened the car door.
Cold air rushed in.
โMove,โ he said, voice rougher than before.
The plan lasted six minutes.
That was longer than most plans you had known, so you tried to appreciate it.
Bucky sent two men around back, one to the roofline, and kept the rest spread wide. Steve stayed at your shoulder as you approached the side entrance, close enough that his sleeve brushed yours. Bucky walked ahead, unhurried, every line of him promising violence with discipline behind it.
The lock on the side door was new.
You crouched before anyone could stop you.
Steve sighed softly. โYou have stitches.โ
โIโm aware.โ
โYou need to stop crouching.โ
โYou need to stop hovering.โ
โIโm not hovering.โ
โYour concern is very broad-shouldered.โ
Bucky glanced back. โCan you open it?โ
You looked up at him. โCan you say please?โ
Steveโs eyes closed.
Bucky stared at you.
Rain dripped from the edge of the awning onto the pavement between you.
Then Bucky said, โPlease.โ
You smiled. โSee? Growth.โ
The lock took less than a minute. Eli had used the same supplier for years because he mistook familiarity for safety. You got the door open and stepped back with a flourish that made Steve shake his head.
Bucky entered first.
Inside, the print shop smelled like dust, toner, and damp concrete. The front room was empty, old machines draped in plastic, counters bare, ceiling lights dark. Steve gave you a small flashlight, and you angled it low, sweeping the floor. Recent footprints in dust. Three sets. Maybe four. One dragged slightly on the left heel.
โBasementโs through the back,โ you whispered.
Bucky nodded.
A sound came from below.
A man shouting.
Not Eli.
Then your brotherโs voice, panicked and high. โI can get it. I can get it, just give me another day.โ
You felt nothing for one strange second.
Then everything came back too fast.
Steveโs hand touched your uninjured arm. โBreathe.โ
โI am breathing.โ
โNot well.โ
โStop being observant.โ
โStop making it necessary.โ
Bucky looked back at you. โStay behind Steve.โ
โI thought I was between you and Steve.โ
โPlans change.โ
โYouโre both very bossy.โ
โYes,โ Steve said, drawing his gun. โMove.โ
The basement door opened with a groan.
The stairs were narrow, concrete, and badly lit. Bucky went down first, silent despite his size. Steve followed with you behind him. At the bottom, the basement opened into a workroom lit by fluorescent strips. Printing equipment lined one wall. A metal table sat in the center, covered with paper, hard drives, two open laptops, and a black duffel bag.
Eli was tied to a chair near the table.
His face was bruised. His lip was split. He looked smaller than you remembered and exactly as selfish as you feared.
Across from him stood Brock Rumlow.
You recognized him from the stories before his face. Thick build. Close-cropped hair. A smile that treated cruelty as humor. He had one hand wrapped around a gun and the other resting on the back of Eliโs chair.
Two other men stood near the equipment.
Rumlow looked up as Bucky stepped into view.
โWell,โ Rumlow said. โThere he is.โ
Buckyโs gun was already in his hand. โYou used her name.โ
Rumlow glanced past him.
His eyes found you.
His smile widened.
โDidnโt know sheโd be this pretty in person,โ he said.
Steve shifted in front of you.
Bucky fired.
The shot hit the floor an inch from Rumlowโs boot.
Everyone froze.
Buckyโs voice was soft. โDonโt look at her.โ
Heat bloomed low in your stomach at the same time anger rose in your throat. Terrible timing. Your body had always had terrible timing.
Rumlow lifted both hands slightly, gun still dangling from his fingers. โSensitive.โ
โAlive,โ Bucky said. โFor now.โ
Eli made a strangled sound. โOh, thank God. Thank God, you came. Tell him. Tell him I didnโt meanโโ
โDo not,โ you said, stepping out from behind Steve, โfinish that sentence like Iโm here to help you.โ
Eliโs mouth stayed open.
It was almost worth the bullet graze.
His gaze ran over you, taking in the coat, the bandage, the gun in your hand, Steve at your side, Bucky in front of you. Confusion crossed his face first. Then relief. Somehow, unbelievably, relief.
โYou got to them,โ he said. โOkay. Good. Good, I knew you would. Youโre good at this.โ
You stared at him.
For years, you had imagined there would be a line. Some boundary Eli could cross that would make the love die cleanly, like cutting power to a room. There was no clean death. There was only this: your brother tied to a chair, smiling through a split lip because he still thought your survival skills belonged to him.
โYou knew I would,โ you repeated.
โI had to give them something.โ Eliโs voice rushed now, eager and trembling. โI didnโt have a choice. Rumlow was going to sell the keys anyway, and Barnes was looking at me, and I thought if they brought you in, you could explain. You always explain things better. You make people listen.โ
โYou put my name on a safehouse where men died.โ
โI didnโt know they were going to kill anyone!โ
Buckyโs jaw tightened.
Steveโs expression went cold in a way you had not seen before. It stripped the warmth from his face completely.
โYou moved money through accounts under my name,โ you said.
โI was going to fix it.โ
โYou forged my signature.โ
โYou werenโt using that paper.โ
You laughed.
It came out wrong.
Eli flinched anyway.
โI wasnโt using my own name, so you thought you could have it?โ
โThatโs not what I meant.โ
โItโs always what you mean,โ you said. โMy name. My apartment. My money. My clean record. My ability to talk landlords and cops and angry men out of consequences you earned. You took whatever part of me was useful, and then you called me dramatic when I noticed the bite marks.โ
Eliโs eyes shone. He had always been able to cry quickly.
Once, it worked on you.
โPlease,โ he said. โYouโre my sister.โ
โI know.โ
โMom and Dadโโ
โDonโt.โ
The word cut through the room.
Even Rumlowโs smile faded slightly.
Eli swallowed.
You stepped closer, though Steve made a low sound of warning behind you. Bucky did not stop you. You could feel his attention like a hand along your spine.
โI loved you,โ you said. โI loved you when you were useless and cruel and scared. I loved you when it cost me sleep and rent and blood. I loved you when I should have left you in whatever hole you dug, because you were the only person who remembered them with me, and I thought that meant I had to keep saving you.โ
Eli whispered your name.
You shook your head. โThis time, you gave me to wolves and expected me to come back with leashes.โ
Buckyโs gaze shifted to you.
Steveโs breath caught softly behind your shoulder.
You looked at Rumlow. โWhat does he have?โ
Rumlowโs eyes gleamed again, because men like him loved a family fracture. โAccount keys. Shipment schedules. Names of two cops Barnes owns and one judge who likes to pretend he canโt be owned.โ
Buckyโs expression did not change, but the room cooled around him.
Eli started crying harder. โI was going to sell it back.โ
โTo me?โ Bucky asked.
Eli shook his head. โI just needed time.โ
โYou sold it to Rumlow.โ
โI was going to buy it back.โ
โWith what?โ you asked.
His silence was answer enough.
Rumlow laughed. โHe was going to give me you.โ
The room went still.
You felt Steve move before you saw him. Not forward. Not yet. Just the shift of a man deciding how quickly he could kill someone.
Bucky did move.
He crossed the room in three steps and caught Rumlow by the throat with his metal hand. Rumlow slammed back against the wall, gun clattering from his grip. His men raised their weapons. Steve fired twice. One man dropped his gun and went down clutching his shoulder. You shot the second in the thigh before he could aim at Bucky.
The recoil jarred your injured arm.
Pain flashed white-hot.
Steve caught you before your knees buckled, one arm around your waist, his body shielding yours as Bucky held Rumlow against the wall.
โBreathe,โ Steve said into your ear.
โStop saying that.โ
โStop getting hurt.โ
โYou first.โ
His laugh was tight and breathless. His hand spread over your stomach, steadying you. You should have pulled away. You did not.
Across the room, Rumlow clawed at Buckyโs metal wrist, face darkening.
โWhere are the keys?โ Bucky asked.
Rumlow choked.
Bucky loosened his grip enough for air.
โLaptop,โ Rumlow rasped. โTable. Drive in the bag.โ
Bucky looked at one of his men, who moved immediately.
Eli was sobbing now. โIโm sorry. Iโm sorry, I didnโt know he wouldโโ
You looked at him over Steveโs arm.
โYes,โ you said. โYou did.โ
Eli shook his head desperately.
โYou know what men like him do with women,โ you said. โYou knew. You just thought Iโd survive it.โ
Eli had no answer.
That hurt more than denial would have.
Bucky released Rumlow, only to hit him once with his metal fist. Rumlow dropped to the floor and stayed there.
Steveโs arm tightened around you. โYou okay?โ
โNo.โ
His face turned toward yours.
You looked at him. โBut I will be.โ
The words felt strange.
Possible, but strange.
Bucky turned from Rumlow, his gaze going first to your face, then to Steveโs arm around you, then to the gun still loose in your hand. Possession and concern warred across his expression. He did not ask Steve to move. He did not ask you to step away.
He walked to Eli instead.
Your brother went very still.
Bucky crouched in front of him, metal hand resting on one knee. โSheโs the only reason Iโm not killing you in this room.โ
Eli looked at you.
You said nothing.
Buckyโs voice lowered. โDonโt mistake that for mercy.โ
โWhat are you going to do?โ Eli whispered.
Bucky looked back at you.
That was the moment you understood the power had shifted.
Not all of it. Not the guns, not the men, not the empire Bucky commanded with a word. But something. Something quieter and more dangerous than command. He was asking, in the only way a man like him could ask in a room like this, what consequence you could live with.
Once, you would have chosen the thing that saved Eli.
This time, you chose the thing that saved you.
โI donโt want to watch him die,โ you said.
Eli sagged with relief.
You looked at him until he understood too soon.
โAnd I donโt want him near me again.โ
Bucky nodded once.
Steveโs hand pressed briefly against your stomach, not restraining. Supporting.
โDone,โ Bucky said.
Eli started pleading after that. With you, mostly. Then with Steve, because Steve looked kinder if someone did not know where to look. Finally with Bucky, because terror made optimists of desperate men.
You stopped listening.
Steve led you upstairs before Buckyโs men untied your brother. You let him. Your arm hurt. Your chest hurt worse. At the top of the stairs, you stopped so abruptly Steve nearly collided with you.
โWhat?โ he asked.
You looked back toward the basement door.
Bucky was still below.
You hated that you wanted him near you. You hated that, after everything, your body had decided safety now looked like a blond man with blood on his cuff and a dark-haired crime boss who waited for your answer before deciding your brotherโs fate.
Steve seemed to read enough of that on your face.
โHeโll come up,โ he said.
โI didnโt ask.โ
โNo,โ Steve said. โYou didnโt.โ
Neither of you moved.
Then he reached out and touched your cheek with the backs of his fingers, so light you could have pretended it did not happen if you needed to.
โYou did good,โ he said.
The praise hit you with such unexpected force that your eyes burned.
You looked away. โThatโs my line.โ
โMaybe you deserve to hear it too.โ
You swallowed.
Steveโs hand dropped.
The basement door opened behind you.
Bucky came up alone.
His shirt was no longer clean. His hair had fallen partly across his forehead. There was blood at his knuckles and metal fingers, and his face was grim until he saw you standing there with Steve. Then some of the hardness eased.
โHeโs alive,โ Bucky said.
You nodded.
โHe wonโt come near you.โ
You nodded again.
โAnd your name will be clean by morning.โ
That made you look at him. โYou can do that?โ
A faint smile touched his mouth. โI can do many things.โ
โModest.โ
โNo.โ
You laughed, and it shook a little. Steve noticed. Bucky did too.
Bucky came closer, slow enough that you understood he was giving you the chance to refuse the nearness. You did not.
โYouโre free to go,โ he said.
The words did not make sense at first.
You blinked. โWhat?โ
โWhen we get back,โ Bucky said. โYour apartment will be watched until I know Rumlowโs people arenโt stupid enough to try again. Your accounts will be fixed. Anything tied to Eli gets burned. Youโll have a car, cash, and a new lock on your door. Then you go where you want.โ
You stared at him.
Steve was quiet beside you.
โYouโre not keeping me as leverage?โ you asked.
โNo.โ
โNot asking me to work off my brotherโs debt?โ
โNo.โ
โNot making a dramatic speech about how I know too much?โ
Buckyโs mouth curved. โWould that work?โ
โProbably not.โ
โThatโs why Iโm not making one.โ
You looked between them. Steveโs expression was steady, but there was something guarded there now, as if he had stepped back before you could ask him to. Bucky looked like a man braced for a hit he had ordered himself to accept.
You were free to go.
You should have been relieved. You were relieved.
You were also, inconveniently, furious.
โNow?โ you asked. โNow you both develop ethics?โ
Steveโs brows lifted.
Bucky blinked.
โAfter dragging me out of my lobby, locking me in a room, getting me shot at, giving me a gun, and making me confront my brother in the basement of a print shop, now you decide to be gentlemen?โ
Steveโs mouth twitched. โWhen you put it like thatโโ
โIโm not finished.โ
He closed his mouth.
Buckyโs eyes had warmed with something like amusement. โGo on.โ
You stepped toward him, anger and exhaustion and something hotter tangling beneath your ribs. โI have had men making choices for me all week. Eli decided I was useful. Rumlow decided I was payment. You decided I was leverage, then innocent, then free. Steve decided I needed food and stitches and apparently breathing lessons. Everyone is very decisive about my life.โ
Steve looked faintly chastened.
Good.
Buckyโs gaze held yours. โThen decide.โ
The words struck clean.
You went still.
Bucky did not move. โFor yourself. Stay. Go. Yell at me more if thatโs what you want. Iโll listen.โ
โCareful,โ you said, quieter. โI like you better when you listen.โ
His eyes darkened.
Steveโs attention sharpened beside you.
The air changed.
It had been changing for hours, maybe since the lobby, but now there was no gunfire, no brother, no locked door to hide behind. Just you and two dangerous men who had started the night as captors and somehow ended it standing in front of you like your choice mattered more than their pride.
You looked at Steve. โAnd you?โ
His throat moved. โI want you to choose.โ
โThatโs not what I asked.โ
โNo,โ he said. โItโs what I can say without asking for too much after tonight.โ
Your heart tripped.
Buckyโs voice was low when he said, โSteve.โ
Steveโs jaw tightened. โShe deserves a clean exit.โ
โShe does,โ Bucky said. โThatโs not the same as pretending you donโt want her to stay.โ
Steve looked at him sharply.
There was history there. Not romance, maybe. Not exactly. But trust so deep it had become another form of intimacy, a language spoken through glances and unfinished warnings. Bucky knew Steveโs guilt. Steve knew Buckyโs restraint. They moved like men who had survived too much together to lie convincingly in front of each other.
You should not have wanted to step into that.
You did anyway.
โIโm not going home tonight,โ you said.
Both men looked at you.
You lifted your chin. โMy apartment is a crime scene with bad lighting and probably no groceries. Iโm tired. Iโm hurt. I donโt want to be alone. That is not blanket permission for either of you to get stupid.โ
Steveโs face softened. โUnderstood.โ
Buckyโs gaze moved over you with open hunger now, controlled but no longer hidden. โCrystal clear.โ
You pointed at him. โAnd you are not allowed to be smug about the fact that Iโm choosing to go home with you.โ
โWouldnโt dream of it.โ
โYouโre doing it with your face.โ
Buckyโs smile spread.
God help you, it was beautiful.
๐ฆพ๐ฉธ๐ฅย
The car did not take you back to the restaurant.
You noticed because you were paying attention, and because Steve noticed you paying attention. The route shifted away from the busier streets, deeper into a quieter part of Brooklyn where the buildings had old bones and expensive locks. The brownstone waiting near the end of the block did not look like a crime bossโs house, which probably meant it was exactly that. No obvious guards. No dramatic gate. Just dark brick, black-framed windows, a private garage tucked beneath the rear entrance, and cameras placed so neatly you only caught them because you knew where to look.
Bucky got out first.
Steve stayed beside you.
You looked between them. โThis is new.โ
โThis is private,โ Bucky said.
That landed differently than it should have.
The restaurant had been business. The basement office had been business. The upstairs suite with the locked door and unopened toiletries had been business too, no matter how nice the sheets were. This was not that. This was somewhere quieter, more controlled, and far more personal.
โYou bring all your hostages here?โ you asked.
Steveโs mouth twitched. โNo.โ
Buckyโs gaze moved over your face. โYouโre not a hostage.โ
โProgress.โ
โYouโre free to leave.โ
โI know.โ
โAnd youโre still here.โ
You held his gaze for a second too long. โDonโt make me regret it.โ
Inside, the brownstone was quiet in a way the restaurant had never been. Not softer, exactly. Nothing about Bucky Barnes suggested softness came naturally. But the silence here belonged to a private place rather than an operation. No staff moving behind doors. No men waiting for orders. No office lights, no files, no blood being scrubbed from tile. Just dark wood, low lamps, old brick, and the faint scent of leather, coffee, and rain-soaked wool.
The room they brought you to was clearly his.
Not a holding suite. Not a guest room kept above a front. Buckyโs room.
You realized it standing just inside the doorway while Steve turned on a lamp and Bucky shrugged out of his ruined jacket behind you. The room was large without being showy, all dark wood, clean lines, and a wide bed made with charcoal-gray sheets. There were books on one wall, a decanter on the sideboard, cufflinks in a small dish near the dresser. Personal things. Not many, but enough.
You looked at Bucky. โSubtle.โ
โYou can have another room.โ
โI didnโt say I objected.โ
Steve went still by the lamp.
Buckyโs gaze held yours. โYouโre hurt.โ
โI noticed.โ
โTired.โ
โUnfortunately.โ
โAngry.โ
โObviously.โ
His eyes moved slowly over your face, lingering like he was reading every answer you were not giving him. โAnd?โ
You took a breath.
This was the edge. You knew edges. Rooftops, alleys, locked doors, menโs tempers, your own willingness to forgive. You had spent a life learning where the drop began, and this one should have scared you more than it did.
Maybe it did scare you.
Maybe you were tired of letting fear make your choices for you.
โAnd I want to be touched by someone who knows Iโm not breakable,โ you said.
Steveโs eyes closed for a second.
Bucky did not move.
โSomeone,โ he repeated.
You looked at Steve. Then back at Bucky.
โDonโt make me be more obvious. Iโve had a long night.โ
Steve laughed under his breath, rough and disbelieving. Buckyโs smile came slower, darker, the kind of smile that made the room feel smaller around you.
Bucky stepped closer. โYou change your mind, you say so.โ
โI know how to use my words.โ
His gaze dropped to your mouth. โYouโve made that very clear.โ
Steveโs hand settled lightly at your waist, warm through the thin fabric of the shirt he had given you. โThen use them when it matters.โ
That should not have gone through you the way it did.
You glanced at him. โDo you always come as a matched set?โ
Steveโs face flushed, just slightly.
Bucky noticed. Of course he did. โWhen weโre wanted.โ
โCocky.โ
โAccurate,โ Steve said.
You looked at him over your shoulder. โCareful, Rogers. If you start getting smug too, I might have to humble you both.โ
Steveโs eyes darkened. โYou can try.โ
The words settled low in your stomach.
Bucky watched the reaction cross your face, and his smile sharpened. โThatโs what I thought.โ
โYou donโt know what Iโm thinking.โ
โNo?โ Bucky asked. โThen why are you looking at Steve like you want him to put you in your place?โ
Your breath caught.
Steveโs hand tightened once at your waist, not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you he was there.
You lifted your chin. โMaybe Iโm looking at him like Iโm deciding whether he could.โ
Steve moved behind you fully, his chest almost brushing your back. โI could.โ
The certainty in his voice should have annoyed you.
It did.
It also made heat gather between your thighs so quickly that Buckyโs eyes dropped, like he could somehow see the effect of it.
You shrugged out of the coat Steve had given you. He moved at once, catching it before it could pull at your injured arm. His hands were careful, but the look on his face was not soft. It was controlled. Measured. The expression of a man already deciding which parts of you he could be rough with and which parts had to be protected from your own stubbornness.
That, more than anything, made your pulse misbehave.
โI want you,โ you said to him, because he had told you to use your words and because you wanted to watch his control slip.
Steveโs gaze lifted to yours.
Then you looked at Bucky. โAnd I want you.โ
Buckyโs metal hand flexed once at his side.
You smiled. โClear enough?โ
โClear,โ Bucky said. โMouthy, but clear.โ
โI thought you liked my mouth.โ
Steve made a low sound behind you.
Buckyโs eyes went darker. โI like it better when you use it honestly.โ
โThat sounds like a challenge.โ
โThat sounds like trouble,โ Steve said.
You turned your head slightly toward him. โYou complaining?โ
His mouth brushed the shell of your ear. โNot even a little.โ
Steve crossed the line first.
He moved slowly until the last step, as if restraint held until it could not. His hand came to your jaw, warm and broad, and he kissed you like he had been thinking about it since the car. Maybe since the lobby. His mouth was firm, controlled for half a second before you leaned into him and bit his lower lip.
Steveโs composure cracked beautifully.
He made a rough sound against your mouth and caught your chin more firmly, angling your face the way he wanted it. You smiled into the kiss because that was better. That was what you wanted: not softness mistaken for respect, not gentleness mistaken for care, but men strong enough to hold back and smart enough to know when you wanted them to stop pretending.
Bucky came up behind you.
You felt him before he touched you, heat and presence at your back. His right hand settled at your waist. His metal fingers touched your uninjured arm, cool and deliberate.
You reached back and caught his wrist, pulling him closer.
Buckyโs mouth found the side of your throat.
Your breath left you.
Steve swallowed the sound, kissing you deeper as Bucky pressed his lips to the pulse beneath your jaw. The contrast was devastating. Steve warm in front of you, Bucky cool and solid behind, both of them careful around your bandage and still surrounding you so completely that your knees softened.
โAnswer him properly,โ Bucky murmured against your throat.
You laughed, breathless and already annoyed by how quickly that tone went through you. โIs that how this is going to be?โ
Steveโs mouth brushed yours, almost a kiss and not quite enough of one. โDepends how much trouble you plan on being.โ
โProbably a lot.โ
Buckyโs hand tightened at your waist, pleased enough that you felt it before you saw it. โGood.โ
The command in his voice should have irritated you.
It did.
It also made your thighs press together.
Steve noticed. His smile turned small and ruined. โI was hoping youโd look at me like that.โ
You narrowed your eyes. โDonโt sound proud of yourself yet.โ
โNo?โ
โNo.โ
You tugged him down by his tie and kissed him hard enough to make him stumble half a step. Buckyโs laugh was quiet against your neck, then his mouth moved lower, finding the bare skin at your shoulder where your shirt had slipped. Steveโs hands slid to your hips. Neither touched your injured arm without looking first. Neither forgot.
You had been handled carelessly too many times in your life. Not always cruelly. Sometimes just thoughtlessly, as if your body were a thing in the way or a thing to be used, pushed aside, pulled through, lifted, cornered, grabbed. Steve and Bucky touched you like they had all the strength in the world and nothing to prove with it.
That was the problem.
That was what made you want them to prove it anyway.
You broke the kiss to breathe. โBed.โ
Buckyโs hand stilled. โYouโre sure?โ
You turned in Steveโs arms to face him.
Bucky Barnes, crime boss, killer, dangerous man with blood still drying at his collar, looked at you like your yes mattered enough to scare him. That did something terrible to your chest, but you did not let it soften your mouth.
โIโm sure,โ you said. โIโm not fragile. Iโm not confused. Iโm not paying a debt. Iโm choosing this.โ
His eyes closed briefly.
When they opened, the hunger in them was almost reverent.
โThen come here,โ he said.
He kissed differently than Steve.
Steve kissed like discipline losing a fight. Bucky kissed as if surrender were something he offered only when no one else could see it. His mouth was slower at first, almost testing, and then you made a soft, impatient sound against him and he broke. His hand slid into your hair, angling your head, and he kissed you until the room blurred at the edges.
Steve moved behind you now, his hands at your waist, his mouth at the back of your neck. Your body could not decide where to lean. Bucky bit gently at your lower lip, and Steveโs fingers skimmed beneath the hem of your shirt, warm against your stomach.
Steve paused at the waistband of your pants, his mouth close to your ear. โTell me to keep going.โ
You reached back and gripped his thigh. โYouโre very demanding for a man who hasnโt earned it yet.โ
His breath warmed your skin, a quiet laugh with teeth behind it. โAnd youโre very mouthy for someone who wants my hand between her legs.โ
Your answer caught in your throat.
Bucky smiled against your shoulder. โThat shut her up.โ
โTemporarily,โ you managed.
Steveโs fingers slipped beneath the fabric. โWeโll see.โ
He opened the button of your pants with maddening patience, giving you every chance to complain and looking entirely too pleased when you did not. Bucky helped lift your shirt carefully over your head, working around the bandage, then tossed it aside. Their attention dropped at the same time.
You would have made a joke if either of them had looked greedy.
They did not.
They looked hungry, yes. Painfully so. But they also looked stunned, as if the sight of you standing between them had given them something neither knew what to do with yet.
You felt powerful in a way that had nothing to do with weapons.
โWell?โ you said, because silence made you restless. โIs this the part where one of you says something devastatingly charming?โ
Steveโs fingers traced your side. โIโm trying to be respectful.โ
โTragic.โ
Buckyโs metal knuckles brushed lightly over your ribs, cool enough to make you shiver. โYouโre beautiful.โ
The simplicity of it caught you.
No performance. No easy filth to hide behind. Just the words, low and certain.
Steve pressed his mouth to your shoulder. โHeโs right.โ
โYou two rehearse that?โ
Buckyโs thumb brushed under the edge of your bra. โIf we had, it wouldโve been smoother.โ
โI donโt know. Iโm fond of almost.โ
Steve smiled against your skin. โWe noticed.โ
They undressed you slowly because of your arm, because of the stitches, because both of them seemed to enjoy discovering how much anticipation they could build before you snapped. Your bra joined your shirt on the floor. Steveโs hands covered your breasts from behind, thumbs brushing over your nipples until you arched with a sound that made Buckyโs eyes flash. He bent and took one nipple into his mouth, tongue warm, teeth careful, and Steve held you steady as your knees weakened.
โFuck,โ you breathed.
Bucky hummed against your skin.
Steveโs hand slid down your stomach, pausing at the waistband of your pants again. โYou want my hand?โ
You rolled your eyes even though your body was already betraying you. โI thought that was obvious.โ
Steve did not move.
Bucky lifted his head, mouth wet from your skin. โTry again.โ
The words were quiet.
Your pulse jumped.
You looked between them. Bucky in front of you, Steve pressed behind you, both of them waiting. Not because they did not know. Because they wanted to hear you say it.
โYouโre both very annoying,โ you said.
Steveโs hand stayed still. โAnd yet.โ
You swallowed, then pushed your hips back against him. โYes. I want your hand.โ
Steveโs fingers slipped beneath the fabric.
The first touch made your breath catch.
Buckyโs eyes dropped, watching your face as Steve found you already wet. Steve went still for half a second, forehead dropping to the back of your shoulder.
Buckyโs mouth curved. โThat good?โ
Steve laughed once, wrecked. โYeah.โ
You would have been embarrassed if you were less turned on. As it was, you rolled your hips into Steveโs hand and felt both men respond.
โYouโre talking about me like Iโm not here,โ you said, but your hips had already followed Steveโs fingers, which ruined the complaint.
Bucky kissed the corner of your mouth, his smile wicked. โNo, sweetheart. Weโre talking about you like youโre ours to admire.โ
Steve stroked you again, slow and deliberate. โAnd you like being admired.โ
You opened your mouth to argue.
Buckyโs teeth grazed your lower lip. โCareful. Lying to us would be rude.โ
โYouโd survive disappointment.โ
โMaybe,โ Steve murmured, fingers sliding through you again. โBut you wouldnโt survive us proving you wrong.โ
Your breath hitched before you could stop it.
Buckyโs smile sharpened. โSensitive little thing.โ
โIโm injured, exhausted, and still deciding whether either of you is worth the trouble,โ you said.
Steve circled your clit with maddening precision. โYour body seems ahead of you.โ
โTraitor.โ
โSmart,โ Bucky corrected, then kissed down your throat.
Steve learned you with the kind of patience that felt almost punitive, finding what made your grip tighten, what made your hips follow his hand, what made you bite Buckyโs lip hard enough for him to groan. His other arm stayed banded around your waist below your injury, holding you steady while Bucky kissed lower, dropping to his knees in front of you like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Your pulse stuttered.
โBucky.โ
He looked up at you from his knees.
Whatever smart thing you had been about to say vanished.
His hands settled on your hips. โTell me to get up, and I will.โ
You swallowed. โI donโt want you to get up.โ
His smile was slow and devastating. โThen keep those pretty legs steady.โ
Steveโs fingers slipped away only long enough for Bucky to pull your pants and underwear down your legs. Steve kept you balanced as you stepped out of them, then his hand returned, spreading you open while Bucky leaned in and put his mouth on you.
Your head fell back against Steveโs shoulder.
There were men who treated oral sex like an obligation. Men who rushed, guessed, performed, waited to be praised for effort. Bucky Barnes did none of that. He ate you like he wanted to be good at it, like your pleasure was a problem he intended to solve thoroughly. His tongue dragged through you, slow at first, then firmer when you shuddered. Steve held you open for him, murmuring praise against your ear, his voice low enough to sink into your skin.
โThatโs it,โ Steve said. โLet him hear you.โ
You reached down with your uninjured hand and gripped Buckyโs hair.
Bucky groaned into you.
The vibration nearly took you out at the knees.
Steve caught you easily. โArm above the pillow when we get you on the bed. Donโt make me move it for you.โ
You tried to laugh, but Buckyโs mouth turned it into a gasp. โYou always give instructions during sex?โ
โYou always need this many?โ
You clenched around nothing.
Bucky felt it, because of course he did. He pulled back just enough to speak, mouth wet and eyes dark. โShe does.โ
โI hate you both,โ you said.
Steve kissed your neck. โNo, you donโt.โ
Bucky smiled, then went back to work with renewed focus, metal hand cool against your thigh, right arm hooked around your leg. He found a rhythm that made your body go tight all over, tongue and lips and Steveโs fingers working together until pleasure built too fast to manage. You tried to stay quiet out of pride. Steve noticed.
Of course he did.
โDonโt hold it back,โ he said.
โBossy,โ you breathed.
โLoud,โ Bucky said against you.
You looked down at him, breathless. โMake me.โ
Buckyโs eyes went black.
Steve made a rough, pleased sound behind you.
Bucky sucked your clit into his mouth, and the word broke into a moan.
Your orgasm hit hard enough that you forgot where you were. You knew Steveโs arms around you, Buckyโs mouth on you, the rush of heat through your body, the low sounds both men made as you came. For once, no part of you was watching the exits.
Bucky eased you through it until you pushed weakly at his head.
He sat back on his heels, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
You glared down at him. โSmug.โ
โYes,โ he said.
Steve turned your face gently and kissed you, swallowing your laugh. His fingers were still slick against your hip. Bucky stood, and you watched him lick his mouth with such blatant satisfaction that your knees threatened betrayal again.
โYou look proud,โ you told him.
Bucky stepped close. โI earned it.โ
You opened your mouth.
Nothing came out.
Steve laughed softly behind you. โHe did.โ
โYouโre supposed to be on my side,โ you said.
โI am,โ Steve replied, and then he turned you toward the bed.
They laid you down like something valuable.
That almost undid you more than the hunger had. Steve took off his tie and shirt, revealing a body built by violence and discipline, broad chest, thick arms, old scars crossing skin in pale lines. Bucky undressed more slowly. His shirt came off last, and you saw the full construction of the metal arm, the dark plating fitted over shoulder and joint, the place where flesh met machine with old scar tissue and careful engineering. He paused when he noticed you looking.
You sat up on your elbow. โCome here.โ
His expression became guarded. โYou donโt have toโโ
โBucky.โ
He came.
You reached for the metal first.
He froze.
You touched the back of his hand, then his wrist, tracing the cool plates with your fingertips. The engineering was exquisite. The history beneath it was not. You did not ask. Not tonight.
โBeautiful,โ you said again.
His breath left him slowly.
Steve watched from the foot of the bed, face open in a way that made your chest ache. He knew what that meant to Bucky. Of course he did.
You leaned forward and kissed the inside of Buckyโs metal wrist.
Bucky closed his eyes.
When he opened them, whatever restraint remained was hanging by a thread.
โLie back,โ he said.
You did, smiling. โThat was very polite of you.โ
โIโm evolving.โ
Steve climbed onto the bed beside you, his hand sliding over your stomach. โGrowth.โ
โYouโre both ridiculous.โ
Bucky kissed your thigh. โYou like us.โ
โUnfortunately.โ
Steveโs mouth found yours again as Bucky moved between your legs. The first touch of Buckyโs fingers after his mouth made you whimper, oversensitive and still hungry. He worked you open slowly, one finger, then two, watching your face with a focus that made heat crawl up your neck.
Steve kissed down your chest, taking his turn with your breasts, less patient now, his control thinning as your hands moved over his shoulders and into his hair. He was hard against your thigh, still in his pants, and the restraint of that made you ache.
โToo many clothes,โ you murmured.
Steve smiled against your skin. โDemanding.โ
โVery.โ
Buckyโs fingers curled inside you.
Your back arched.
โDemanding suits her,โ Bucky said.
Steve lifted his head. โIt does.โ
โAgain,โ you breathed.
Bucky did it again, watching you fall apart around his hand with such hungry attention that you felt adored and studied at once. Steve stripped off the rest of his clothes while Bucky kept touching you, and then Bucky withdrew, making you protest before you could stop yourself.
He kissed the inside of your thigh. โPatience.โ
โI hate that.โ
โI know.โ
Steve came back to you naked, and any clever response dissolved.
He was beautiful. Broad and golden and flushed with want, his control visible in every tense line of his body. You reached for him. He came willingly, bracing one hand near your head, kissing you with a groan when your fingers wrapped around him.
Bucky stripped behind him.
โCondom?โ Steve asked against your mouth.
โYes,โ you said. โNightstand?โ
Bucky reached without looking, which told you all you needed to know about his bedroom to make you laugh.
He arched a brow. โSomething funny?โ
โYouโre prepared.โ
โIโm optimistic.โ
Steve huffed a laugh and kissed your cheek, then your jaw. โYou want him first?โ
The question sent heat through you.
Bucky went still, packet in hand.
You looked between them. Steve, warm and controlled and visibly holding himself back. Bucky, dark-eyed and tense, waiting like your answer could ruin him.
You reached for Bucky.
His face changed.
Steve kissed you once, deep and lingering, then shifted to your side. โTell him how you want it.โ
Your mouth went dry.
Bucky tore the packet open with his teeth, rolled the condom on, and settled between your thighs. He did not push in right away. He held himself there, one hand braced beside your hip, metal fingers gripping the sheet hard enough to pull the fabric tight.
You touched his face, thumb brushing the sharp line of his cheekbone. โDonโt do that.โ
His eyes flicked to yours. โDo what?โ
โTreat me like Iโll break.โ
Steveโs hand tightened around yours.
Buckyโs jaw worked once. โYou have stitches.โ
โAnd you have self-control,โ you said. โIโm not asking you to lose all of it. Iโm asking you to stop pretending gentle is the only way to be careful.โ
For a second, he only stared at you. Then something in his expression changed, restraint going darker around the edges.
โTell me exactly what you want,โ he said.
You smiled, breathless and reckless beneath him. โI want you to fuck me like you know I can take it.โ
Steve exhaled against your temple, a quiet, ruined sound.
Buckyโs eyes went black.
He pushed into you in one firm stroke, not cruel, not careless, but without the delicate hesitation that had made you want to bite him. The stretch punched the air from your lungs. Your back arched. Steve caught your hand tighter, his mouth at your ear as Bucky held himself deep and watched your face with a hunger that looked almost violent.
His metal hand left the sheet and closed around your thigh, holding you open. โUse your mouth, sweetheart.โ
Heat tore through you.
โYes,โ you gasped. โBetter.โ
โGood.โ
Then he moved.
The first thrust drove you up the bed, and Steve caught your hip with his free hand, keeping you from jarring your injured arm against the pillows. Bucky noticed, adjusted, and then fucked you harder, deeper, with all that brutal precision turned toward making you fall apart instead of making you afraid. He was still careful where it mattered. Around your stitches. Around the places that hurt. Everywhere else, he stopped holding back.
Your fingers twisted in Steveโs. โFuck, Bucky.โ
โThatโs what you wanted,โ Steve murmured, voice low and wrecked against your cheek.
You meant to answer. Bucky snapped his hips forward again, and the words broke into a moan.
Bucky smiled like he had earned something. โShe can answer.โ
Steveโs mouth brushed your temple. โCan she?โ
You hated how much that went through you. Hated that they both felt it when you clenched around Bucky, hated the way Buckyโs grip tightened on your thigh in response.
โYes,โ you managed. โThatโs what I wanted.โ
Bucky bent over you, his mouth close enough to yours that every word felt like another touch. โThen take it.โ
Each thrust rolled through you, careful around your arm, devastating everywhere else. Steve kissed you as Bucky found a rhythm, his free hand moving between your bodies to touch your clit. The pleasure rose again, softer at first, then sharper as Buckyโs control frayed.
โFuck,โ Bucky breathed. โYou feelโโ
He stopped, as if words had failed him.
โDevastatingly charming?โ you offered, though it came out thin and breathless.
Steve laughed against your mouth. โStill joking.โ
Bucky thrust harder, and your laugh broke into a moan.
โMuch prettier,โ he said, voice rough, โwhen you stop pretending.โ
Your nails dug into Steveโs hand.
Bucky lowered himself enough to kiss you, and the angle changed, making you gasp into his mouth. Steveโs fingers stayed steady at your clit, working you up with unfair precision. They were too good together. That was the problem. They listened to each other without speaking, adjusted around your sounds, your breath, the tension in your thighs. Bucky slowed when Steve pressed against his hip once. Steve eased up when your body went too tight too fast. They handled you like a shared language.
It should have scared you.
It did, a little.
You came anyway, pleasure breaking open through you with Bucky inside you and Steveโs mouth at your cheek, murmuring, โPretty girl. Thatโs it. Let him have it.โ
The praise wrecked you.
Bucky felt it. His rhythm faltered, eyes going wild.
Steve saw it too, because his mouth curved against your skin. โYou like being praised after all that attitude?โ
You shook your head, which was stupid because both of them felt the way your body answered.
Bucky swore, dropping his forehead near yours. โLiar.โ
Steveโs voice lowered. โPretty girl.โ
You clenched around Bucky, and he lost the fight.
He came with a rough sound, holding himself deep as his metal hand tore the sheet where it gripped too hard. His body shook with the force of it, and Steve kept kissing your face, your jaw, the corner of your mouth, like he could not decide where he wanted to be.
The three of you breathed together afterward.
For a while, that was all.
Then Bucky laughed softly, stunned and quiet, and you smiled before you could stop yourself.
โYou ripped your own sheets,โ you murmured.
โIโll buy new ones.โ
โShow-off.โ
Steve kissed your shoulder. โYou okay?โ
You turned your head to look at him. His face was flushed, his pupils blown wide, his body still tense with need.
You reached for him.
His breath caught.
โNot done with you,โ you said.
Bucky lifted his head. Something possessive and pleased moved across his face. He withdrew carefully, making you hiss at the sensitivity, then disposed of the condom before returning to the bed. He kissed your knee, your thigh, your stomach, as Steve moved between your legs.
Steveโs hand slid over your uninjured hip. โYou need a minute?โ
You smiled up at him. โYou need one?โ
His expression changed.
Bucky laughed against your thigh. โWrong answer, sweetheart.โ
Steve caught your wrists carefully, pinning them above your head so the pillow supported your injured arm. His grip was warm, firm, and devastatingly precise.
โYou want rough,โ Steve said, voice low, โyou follow instructions.โ
Your mouth went dry.
Bucky kissed the inside of your knee. โLook at that. She does know how to listen.โ
โIโm reconsidering both of you,โ you said.
Steve leaned down until his mouth brushed yours. โNo, youโre not.โ
You lifted your chin and kissed him because you hated that he was right.
Bucky stretched out beside you, propped on one elbow, his metal hand cool at your hip. He watched Steve kiss you with open hunger and something else. Trust. You saw it then, the shape of them, how much was already there before you entered the room. Not a threat. Not competition. A foundation.
โYou do this often?โ you asked, because your mouth had no instinct for self-preservation.
Steveโs face went pink.
Bucky smiled. โJealous?โ
โCurious.โ
โSometimes,โ Steve said, honest as ever. โNot like this.โ
That answer settled warmly inside you.
Buckyโs fingers stroked your hip. โNever like this.โ
You believed him.
When Steve entered you, he did it slowly at first, even though you could feel how much it cost him. His jaw was tight. His shoulders were tense. His hands stayed exactly where they needed to be, one braced beside your head, the other keeping your thigh open. He kissed you through the first stretch, murmuring praise when your body relaxed around him.
It was sweet.
Too sweet.
You wrapped your legs around his waist and dug your heel into his lower back. โRogers.โ
His eyes lifted to yours.
โIf you tell me to breathe, Iโm leaving.โ
Bucky laughed into your shoulder.
Steveโs gaze darkened. โYouโre very difficult.โ
โYouโre very slow.โ
That did it.
His composure snapped beautifully.
Steve drove into you harder, deep enough that your head tipped back against the pillow. Buckyโs hand slid between your thighs, fingers finding your clit again, and Steve caught your jaw, turning your face back toward him.
โLook at me,โ he said.
You did.
His rhythm deepened, rougher now, each thrust measured until your sounds made him lose another piece of himself. Buckyโs mouth moved over your breasts, then lower, his fingers wicked and relentless between your thighs.
It was too much.
It was exactly enough.
Steve buried his face in your neck, breathing hard. โYou feel so good.โ
โYou too,โ you gasped. โGod, Steve.โ
His hips stuttered.
Bucky smiled against your skin. โHe likes hearing his name.โ
โBucky,โ Steve warned, but it was wrecked.
You turned your head enough to catch Buckyโs mouth. โAnd you like behaving when I praise you.โ
Bucky went still.
Steve groaned.
You smiled against Buckyโs lips. โInteresting.โ
Buckyโs metal fingers tightened at your hip. โCareful.โ
โThereโs that word again.โ
Steve shifted his angle, and the next thrust drove the thought out of you. Buckyโs fingers on your clit moved faster. Your body tightened, pleasure rushing up too quickly to resist. You came with Steveโs name in your mouth and Buckyโs hand between your thighs, and Steve followed you over with a broken sound, holding himself deep as he shook.
Afterward, they took care of you with the same intensity they did everything else.
Steve brought a warm cloth. Bucky changed the torn sheets with a muttered complaint that made you laugh into a pillow. They checked your bandage, made you drink water, argued quietly over whether you needed more pain medication until you threatened to stab them both with the thermometer from the first aid kit.
Eventually, you ended up in the middle of the bed with Steve at your back and Bucky facing you.
It should have felt strange.
It did not.
That was the strangest part.
Buckyโs metal hand rested on the sheet between you, close enough that your fingers could brush it. You did, tracing one seam with your fingertip. His eyes watched the movement.
โWhat happens tomorrow?โ you asked.
Steveโs arm tightened gently around your waist.
Bucky was quiet for a moment. โYour name gets cleared.โ
โAnd Eli?โ
โHe disappears from your life.โ
You looked at him.
Buckyโs gaze did not waver. โAlive.โ
โThank you.โ
He looked almost uncomfortable with it. โYou asked.โ
โI did.โ
โSo I listened.โ
Your chest ached.
โYouโre going to make it very hard to keep hating you for kidnapping me,โ you said.
Steve sighed behind you. โWe are going to have to keep apologizing for that, arenโt we?โ
โFor a while, yes.โ
Buckyโs mouth curved. โFair.โ
You turned slightly, enough to look back at Steve. โAnd youโre going to replace my groceries.โ
โI said I would.โ
โWith the correct tomatoes.โ
โIโll need a list.โ
โYouโll get one.โ
His smile was soft. โGood.โ
Buckyโs eyes narrowed faintly. โWhy does he get the grocery list?โ
โBecause he seems less likely to outsource it.โ
Steve laughed.
Bucky looked offended. โI can buy tomatoes.โ
โYou can own a restaurant. Thatโs different.โ
โI know what tomatoes look like.โ
You patted his metal hand. โProud of you.โ
He caught your fingers before you could pull away.
The shift in him was immediate and devastating. Amusement softened into hunger, but beneath the hunger was that same exposed thing from the office, the part of him that reacted before he could armor it. Praise. Approval. The simplest kindness, and he looked like it could bring him to his knees if you learned how to use it.
Maybe you would.
Maybe Steve already knew that thought had crossed your mind, because his mouth brushed your shoulder.
โCareful with him,โ Steve murmured.
You looked at Bucky. โIs he warning me for your sake or mine?โ
Bucky brought your fingers to his mouth. โBoth.โ
He kissed your knuckles.
You were in terrible trouble.
๐ฆพ๐ฉธ๐ฅย
The next morning, Brooklyn looked scrubbed clean by rain and entirely innocent of what had happened beneath it.
You woke late in Buckyโs bed with Steve gone and Bucky sitting in a chair by the window, phone in one hand, coffee in the other. He was dressed in black slacks and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, metal arm bare, hair still damp from a shower. Morning light softened the angles of his face without making him look less dangerous.
He looked up when you moved.
โSteve went out for tomatoes,โ he said.
Your smile came before your defenses. โThe correct ones?โ
โHe took notes.โ
โOf course he did.โ
Bucky set the phone aside. โYour apartment has new locks. The lobby camera footage is gone from everywhere. Your name is off the company, the lease, and the accounts. By noon, anyone looking will find Eliโs signature where yours was.โ
You pushed yourself up carefully. Your arm protested, but less sharply than before. โYou work fast.โ
โI have good people.โ
โYou mean terrifying people.โ
โTheyโre efficient too.โ
โAnd Eli?โ
Buckyโs face sobered. โOn a bus out of the state with enough fear in him to keep moving. If he comes back, Iโll know. If he contacts you, Steve will know. If you want to contact him, thatโs your choice.โ
You were quiet.
You expected grief to rise at that. It did, but not the way you feared. It was smaller than last night. Not gone, maybe never gone, but no longer large enough to block the window.
โI donโt,โ you said.
Bucky nodded.
No satisfaction. No smugness. Just acknowledgment.
You looked around the room, at your clothes folded on a chair, at the water glass beside the bed, at the ruined sheet now replaced beneath you. โAm I free to leave?โ
โYes.โ
โAnd if I donโt?โ
Buckyโs eyes lifted to yours.
The air changed again, but softer this time.
โIf you donโt,โ he said, โSteve comes back with tomatoes, you insult his choices, and I make breakfast.โ
โYou cook?โ
โI own restaurants.โ
โAs previously established, thatโs not the same thing.โ
โI cook,โ he said, amused now.
You studied him. โAnd after breakfast?โ
โWhatever you decide.โ
That word again.
Decide.
For yourself.
You had spent so much of your life reacting. To death, to debt, to Eli, to men at doors, to names on paper and blood on floors. Choice felt almost suspicious in its simplicity.
You slipped from the bed, taking the shirt Bucky had left within reach and pulling it carefully over your shoulders. It was his. You knew from the way his gaze dropped, then darkened.
โCoffee first,โ you said.
Buckyโs mouth curved. โThat sounds like an order.โ
โIโm injured. It makes me powerful.โ
โYou were powerful before that.โ
The answer landed too gently for the hour, so you looked away before your face could do something embarrassing. Bucky noticed, because of course he did, but he let you have the retreat. He only stepped back and gestured toward the door.
The house looked different in daylight. Quieter. Less like a fortress and more like a place someone had taught himself to live in carefully. Dark wood floors, old brick, black-framed windows, a stairwell polished by age and money. You noticed the cameras because you knew how to notice cameras, but they were discreet enough that someone less suspicious might have missed them.
Bucky did not rush you down the stairs. He stayed close enough to catch you if your arm or the ache in your hip decided to make a point, but not close enough to make you feel like you were being managed. That was almost worse.
The kitchen sat near the front of the house, just off the main hall, brightened by tall windows that looked out over the quiet street. It should have felt exposed, but the glass was old and expensive and probably reinforced, the kind of detail money hid behind charm. Stone counters. Dark cabinets. A butcher block worn smooth at the edges. Stainless steel pans hung above the stove, expensive but used often enough not to look decorative.ย
A place meant for morning light, coffee, and pretending the men who lived there did not make half the city nervous after sunset.
Bucky moved through the room like he actually knew where things were, which did terrible damage to your argument that owning restaurants did not mean he could cook.
You leaned against the counter while he reached for a mug.
โYou really do cook,โ you said.
โI told you.โ
โI was hoping you were lying. It would make you less annoying.โ
โDisappointed?โ
โDevastated.โ
His smile came slowly as he poured your coffee. โYouโll survive.โ
โBold assumption.โ
He brought the mug to you, and you took it with your good hand, letting the warmth settle against your palm. Bucky stayed close after you accepted it, one hand settling on the counter beside your hip. Not trapping you. Not exactly. Just near enough that you had to tilt your head back to keep looking at him.
โYouโre still here,โ he said.
โFor breakfast.โ
His gaze dropped to your mouth. โThat all?โ
โYou fishing for praise again?โ
โNo.โ His thumb brushed the counter once, close to your hip but not touching. โIโm asking what you want.โ
That was worse.
You took a sip of coffee to buy yourself half a second. It did not help. Bucky watched you over the rim of the mug, amused and too patient, and something warm uncurled in your stomach despite every sensible instinct you had left.
So you set the mug down, caught the front of his shirt, and pulled him down to you.
The kiss was meant to be brief.
It was not.
Buckyโs right hand came to your waist, his metal hand hovering for half a second before settling gently at your back. He kissed you in morning light like he had more time than he knew what to do with, like he could learn a new kind of hunger if you let him. You were wearing his shirt in his kitchen with your coffee cooling beside you and your mouth opening under his, and the terrible thing was how easy it felt to stay there.
The front door opened.
You did not pull away.
Neither did Bucky.
Footsteps slowed in the hall.
Steve stopped at the kitchen entrance with a grocery bag in one arm and a bakery box balanced carefully on top. His hair was damp from the morning air, his coat dark at the shoulders, and his gaze moved from you in Buckyโs shirt to Buckyโs hand at your waist.
His smile spread, slow and warm.
โI got the tomatoes.โ
You pulled back from Bucky just enough to look at the bag. โWeโll see if theyโre correct.โ
Steveโs eyes warmed. โGood morning to you too.โ
Buckyโs thumb moved once against your back. โSheโs staying for breakfast.โ
Steveโs smile softened into something that made your throat tight. โYeah?โ
You looked between them.
Bucky, who had expected fear and learned to listen.
Steve, who had expected a liability and seen you clearly enough that it still scared you.
Neither of them safe. Neither of them simple. Both of them watching you like your answer mattered.
โFor breakfast,โ you said.
Bucky smiled.
Steve set the groceries and bakery box on the counter, then crossed the kitchen toward you.
โAnd after?โ he asked.
You let him come close. Let him touch your cheek. Let Bucky stay at your back.
You thought of your brother, gone from the city with his lies behind him. You thought of your apartment with new locks, your name cleaned, your life returned to you different than it had been. You thought of wolves and leashes and the terrible, beautiful problem of wanting dangerous men who had started earning the right to be gentle.
โAfter,โ you said, โdepends on how good you both are.โ
Steveโs eyes darkened.
Bucky laughed, low and pleased against your shoulder.
Then Steve kissed you, and Buckyโs hand tightened at your waist, and for the first time in a long time, nobody was dragging you out of a fire.
You had walked in on your own.
And if they wanted your approval badly enough to follow, well.
You were willing to let them try.
๐ฆพ๐ฉธ๐ฅ
credit to @uzmacchiato for the cherry divider โค๏ธ๐
Summary:
Your brother has always mistaken your loyalty for stupidity.
When his work as a low-level fixer finally catches up with him, he saves himself by putting your name on a betrayal meant for Bucky Barnes, the most dangerous man in Brooklyn.ย
Bucky expects a frightened pawn. Steve Rogers, his polished and lethal second-in-command, expects a liability.
Neither of them expects you to fight back, flirt harder, and make them both want your approval badly enough to earn it.
Authorโs Note:
Mafia!AU. No powers/superheroes, but Bucky still has his metal arm.
This fic's length also got away from me, so this will also be in two parts.
[Part 2]
๐ฆพ๐ฉธ๐ฅย
Your brother had always thought you were softer than you were.
You could not blame him entirely. Softness had been useful once. You had learned young that people helped girls who looked like they might cry but were trying very bravely not to. Landlords gave you three more days when you stood in their hallways with your hands clasped in front of you and a tremble carefully placed in your voice. Corner store owners pretended not to notice the extra loaf of bread beneath your jacket when you smiled at them like they were kind. Cops looked past the knife in your boot because you said yes, sir, and kept your hands visible. Men who should have known better leaned closer when you let your mouth curve sweetly, and by the time they realized you had taken their wallet, copied their key, or memorized the code they punched into the keypad behind them, you were already gone.
Eli called it charm.
When he was angry, he called it manipulation.
He had never liked calling it survival because that would have meant admitting you had both needed to survive in the first place, and your brother preferred any version of the past in which he came out looking noble. He was four years older than you, which had apparently been enough for him to appoint himself tragic patriarch after your parents died. He told people he had raised you. For a while, you let him. Correcting him required explaining too much, and some lies were cheaper than the truth.
Eli had been seventeen when the accident happened, too handsome for his own good and already beginning to understand that grief made people generous. You had been thirteen and practical because one of you had to be. He screamed at insurance agents. You learned where your mother kept the documents. He punched a hole through the kitchen wall. You patched it with cardboard, duct tape, and a framed print from the living room so the landlord would not charge you for damages you could not pay. He disappeared for three days after the funeral and came back smelling like smoke and someone elseโs perfume. You cooked pasta with the last of the butter and pretended not to notice his hands shaking around the fork.
That was family, you had thought then. Not forgiveness, exactly. Something more desperate.
By twenty, Eli had become useful to men who did not reward uselessness. He could make paper behave. Fake leases. Clean IDs. Notarized documents with dead menโs signatures. Shell companies that looked respectable if no one cared enough to peel back the first layer. He worked low enough in Brooklynโs criminal food chain to pretend he was invisible, but useful enough that people kept his number. He was not important. He said that whenever you told him important men did not have to be the ones who got shot.
โYou worry too much,โ he told you two months before everything came apart. He was in your kitchen, drinking orange juice from the carton because he had never respected a boundary that did not come with a deadbolt. โNobodyโs looking at me.โ
โThey donโt have to look hard,โ you said. โYou leave fingerprints everywhere.โ
He scoffed. โThatโs very dramatic.โ
โYou used my old address on an incorporation form.โ
His expression changed, but only for a second. Eli had always been good at rearranging his face before guilt could fully settle there. โIt was dead paper.โ
โIt was my paper.โ
โIt was a closed account tied to a closed lease. Nobody uses that name.โ
โI use that name,โ you said. โBecause itโs mine.โ
โYouโre making this bigger than it is.โ
You remembered the way he said it. Easy. Dismissive. A little amused, as if you were a child standing in front of the stove, warning him that the burner was hot.
That was what Eli did when he was scared. He made you feel foolish for noticing.
You kicked him out that night. He came back three days later with flowers stolen from the bucket outside a bodega and an apology that sounded rehearsed. You took the flowers because they were already yours if he had stolen them for you, but you did not let him past the chain.
โIโm your brother,โ he said, softer then.
โI know,โ you answered. โThatโs why youโre still breathing.โ
He laughed because he thought you were joking.
People usually did.
๐ฆพ๐ฉธ๐ฅย
The night Bucky Barnes found you, rain had turned the city silver.
It was a miserable, needling rain, too cold for late spring and too thin to justify an umbrella. It slicked the pavement outside your apartment building and turned the neon from the liquor store across the street into a red smear in the gutter. You came home with a paper bag of groceries under one arm, your keys already threaded between your fingers, and the distinct feeling that something was wrong crawling up the back of your neck.
The lobby light was out.
That happened often enough that it should not have mattered, but the shadows inside were too still. No music bleeding through from Mrs. Alvarezโs place on the first floor. No stale cigarette smell from the superโs son lurking near the mailboxes. The building had a pulse. You had lived there long enough to know it, and tonight it was holding its breath.
You stepped back before the man behind the door moved.
He was big, but big men were often slow because they trusted their size too much. His hand shot out for your arm. You let him get close enough to commit, dropped the groceries, and drove the heel of your palm up into his nose. Cartilage gave with a wet crunch. He cursed, stumbling backward, and you took the opening, twisting away as another man came out of the stairwell.
โReally?โ you snapped, because fear always came easier if you gave it something else to wear. โIn this weather?โ
The second man had a gun. You saw it in the angle of his shoulder before the weapon cleared his jacket. You kicked the fallen bag hard, sending a can of tomatoes skidding under his foot. He shifted, just enough. You lunged into the space, caught his wrist with both hands, and slammed it against the edge of the mailboxes until his fingers opened. The gun hit the tile. You kicked it beneath the radiator.
The first man recovered enough to grab you from behind.
You drove your elbow back. He grunted but did not let go. He was better than the first impression suggested, or maybe he had learned from the broken nose. His arm locked around your ribs, too high to breathe comfortably. You hooked your foot behind his ankle and dropped your weight. He swore as you both hit the floor. Pain flashed through your hip. You ignored it, slammed your head back into his mouth, and scrambled for the gun beneath the radiator.
A polished black shoe came down on it first.
You froze with your fingers inches from the grip.
Slowly, you looked up.
The man standing over you did not look like hired muscle. That was the first thing you noticed. The men bleeding in your lobby looked like violence that had been paid in cash. This one looked like violence with a tailor. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and blond, his dark wool coat falling open over a suit that probably cost more than three months of your rent. His face was handsome in a way that felt almost insulting under the circumstances, with clean lines, calm blue eyes, and a mouth that did not need to smile to make you wonder what it would look like if he did.
He had a gun in his hand.
He was not pointing it at you.
That bothered you more.
โYou must be Steve,โ you said.
One of the bleeding men made a confused noise.
The blond manโs expression barely changed, but something sharpened behind his eyes. โAnd why would you say that?โ
โBecause if you were Bucky Barnes, they wouldnโt have come in first.โ
His gaze flicked over you, quick and assessing. Your position on the floor. Your hand near the gun. The blood on the tile that was not yours. The way you had not made the mistake of moving once he entered the room.
โGet up,โ he said.
โIs that a request or are we still pretending this is a kidnapping?โ
โItโs an instruction.โ
You smiled at him. โThatโs less charming.โ
The man with the broken nose groaned. Steve did not look away from you.
โStand up,โ he said, gentler this time, which did not make it less dangerous. โPlease.โ
โSee?โ you said, pushing yourself slowly to your feet. โManners cost nothing.โ
His mouth twitched. It was small. Almost nothing. It was enough to tell you he had not expected you to be funny, and that was useful.
The man whose wrist you had slammed against the mailboxes reached for your arm. Steve stopped him with a glance.
โDonโt,โ Steve said.
The man went still.
Interesting.
Steve picked up the gun with a handkerchief and tucked it away somewhere inside his coat. He did not touch you. That was also interesting, though you doubted it was an act of mercy. Men like him did not need to grab when everyone else did it for them.
โYouโre coming with us,โ he said.
โMy groceries are getting wet.โ
โIโll replace them.โ
โThatโs presumptuous. Iโm particular about tomatoes.โ
โYou just used them as a weapon.โ
โThey knew what they signed up for.โ
That time, Steveโs almost-smile lasted a fraction longer. Then he looked past you toward the broken-nosed man. โCar.โ
The man hesitated, glaring at you through the blood on his face.
Steveโs voice cooled. โNow.โ
The man went.
You watched him leave, then looked back at Steve. โDo you always bring men this breakable to an abduction, or did I get the discount package?โ
โYou were described as low risk.โ
โBy who?โ
Steve did not answer.
He did not have to.
The cold in your chest had nothing to do with the open lobby door.
Eli, you thought.
Your brotherโs name settled in your stomach like a swallowed blade, familiar and sharp. It was not surprise. That would have been kinder. It was the ugly, exhausted recognition of a pattern finally reaching its natural end.
You laughed once, quietly.
Steve noticed. Of course he did. โSomething funny?โ
โNo,โ you said. โJust realizing I shouldโve changed the locks on more than my apartment.โ
For the first time, his calm shifted into something close to understanding.
Then he gestured toward the door.
Outside, the rain kept falling.
The car waiting at the curb was black, expensive, and forgettable in the way money could make things forgettable. You slid into the back seat because refusing would have turned the street into a scene, and you were not yet sure how many guns were pointed at you from the dark. Steve sat beside you instead of in front. That was not an accident. He kept enough space between you to be polite and not enough for you to mistake it for freedom.
The doors locked.
You looked at him. โChild safety?โ
โProfessional habit.โ
โThatโs bleak.โ
โSo is breaking a manโs nose in your own lobby.โ
โHe started it.โ
โI saw the end.โ
โIโm better in the middle.โ
Steve turned his head slightly. His gaze moved over your face with that same careful attention, not lingering anywhere inappropriate, which made the attention worse somehow. He looked like a man who collected facts without asking permission.
โYou always talk this much when someone takes you at gunpoint?โ
โYouโre not pointing it at me.โ
โWould that make you quieter?โ
You smiled. โProbably not.โ
The driver glanced at you in the mirror. Steve did not.
โYou know why weโre here,โ he said.
โI know who sent you. The why is where it gets tedious.โ
โTell me.โ
โEli did something stupid,โ you said. โEli involved my name. Eli vanished before the consequences arrived. This is a recurring theme in my life, except that usually the consequences are eviction notices, angry girlfriends, or men with neck tattoos who think intimidation is a personality trait. Youโre a step up, aesthetically speaking.โ
Steve looked out the window for a moment. Rain slid over the glass, breaking the streetlights into gold lines across his face.
โYou understand who Bucky Barnes is?โ he asked.
โYes.โ
โAnd youโre making jokes?โ
โI understand who Bucky Barnes is,โ you said. โI also understand that if he wanted me dead, I wouldnโt be in a car with leather seats and a polite blond. So either he needs something, or he wants something. Both mean I have time.โ
Steve looked back at you.
There it was again. Not softness. Not approval. Interest, maybe, although he controlled it quickly.
โYouโre not what your brother said you were.โ
You hated how much that stung. โLet me guess. Sweet? Harmless? A little ditzy but good with people?โ
Steve did not answer fast enough.
โGod,โ you muttered, turning toward the window. โIโm going to kill him before Barnes gets the chance.โ
โBucky might object.โ
โThen Bucky can take a number.โ
The car turned off the avenue and slid into a part of Brooklyn that pretended money had cleaned the blood from its foundations. Old brick buildings. Private doors. Windows lit warm behind expensive glass. You knew enough about the city to know that respectability was often just crime with better upholstery.
The car stopped behind a restaurant that had no sign on the back entrance and no trash in the alley. That told you more than any name could have. Steve got out first, then offered you his hand.
You looked at it.
โSeriously?โ
โI can drag you,โ he said. โIโd rather not.โ
โThatโs your sales pitch?โ
โIโve had better nights too.โ
You took his hand because you wanted to feel the calluses.
They were there, across his palm and fingers, hidden beneath the polish of the suit. Not just a man who gave orders, then. A man who could carry them out. His hand closed around yours, warm and steady, and he helped you from the car without pulling.
โYouโre prettier when youโre not having people ambush me,โ you said.
Steveโs gaze dipped briefly to your mouth before returning to your eyes. โYouโre more polite when youโre outnumbered.โ
โAm I?โ
โNo.โ
You laughed before you could stop yourself.
That was inconvenient.
Inside, the restaurant was closed and dimly lit, the chairs stacked on tables in the front room, the floor smelling faintly of lemon oil and old wine. It looked respectable from the street, which told you almost everything you needed to know. Respectable places made excellent fronts. Steve guided you through the kitchen, past two silent men by the back hall, and down a narrow staircase into a lower level that had been converted into something between a private lounge, an office, and the kind of room where men learned whether Bucky Barnes was in a generous mood.
Bucky Barnes stood behind a desk at the far end of the room.
You knew him before Steve said anything. Some men carried reputation like a coat. Bucky wore his like a second skin. He was not as tall as Steve, but the room organized itself around him anyway. Dark hair. Dark suit. A face so handsome it looked almost cruel at first glance, all sharp angles and a mouth made for either sin or sentencing. His left arm was metal from below the shoulder, matte black and silver catching faintly under the low lights as he set a file on the desk with deliberate care.
The sound was soft.
Everyone in the room heard it.
Bucky looked at Steve first. Then at the two men behind him, both bloodied in ways they clearly resented. Finally, he looked at you.
His eyes were very blue.
That was irritating.
โThis is her?โ he asked.
You tilted your head. โThatโs a philosophical question.โ
Steve moved to stand slightly behind you and to the right. Not blocking the door. Blocking you from seeing the door without turning your head.
โYes,โ Steve said.
Buckyโs gaze dropped to your hands, your coat, the bruise beginning to ache along your hip. โShe did that?โ
โShe did,โ Steve said.
One of the men muttered something under his breath.
Buckyโs eyes flicked toward him. โLeave.โ
The man shut up.
โNo,โ Bucky said, colder. โI mean leave the room.โ
The men left.
The door closed behind them.
You looked between Bucky and Steve. โShould I be flattered or concerned that you dismissed the audience?โ
โConcerned,โ Bucky said.
His voice was lower than you expected. Not rough. Controlled. A voice that did not need to rise because too many people had learned to listen the first time.
โMm,โ you said. โHonest. I like that in a kidnapper.โ
Bucky studied you for a moment.
Then he laughed.
It was quiet, almost unwilling, and Steveโs attention sharpened as if the sound mattered. Maybe it did. Maybe Bucky Barnes did not laugh often in this room.
โYou know why youโre here?โ Bucky asked.
โI have theories.โ
He tapped the file with the fingers of his right hand. โYour name is on a company that moved four million dollars out of one of my accounts.โ
โRude of me.โ
โYour name is also on the lease for a safehouse where two of my men were killed last week.โ
You let that settle.
There it was.
Not paperwork. Not a stupid scam that could be smoothed over with enough charm and signatures. Blood.
Your face must have shifted despite your best efforts, because Bucky watched you more closely.
โYou didnโt know,โ Steve said.
It was not a question.
You glanced over your shoulder at him. โCareful, handsome. If you start sounding reasonable, I might get attached.โ
Steveโs jaw flexed.
Bucky opened the file and turned it toward you. โSignature yours?โ
You stepped closer to the desk. Steve did not stop you. That told you something about either his confidence or his orders.
The signature on the paper was close enough to make your throat tighten.
Eli had always been better with numbers than with hands. He could copy loops, angles, pressure, but there was a stiffness in the line where your writing usually relaxed. A person who did not know you might believe it. A person who knew paper too well should have asked questions.
โNo,โ you said.
โYou looked for half a second.โ
โIโve seen my name before.โ
Buckyโs expression did not change. โTry again.โ
You leaned over the desk, turning the page with two fingers. โThe slant is wrong. He always overcorrects when he copies womenโs handwriting. Thinks weโre all supposed to write like birthday cards. The y is too careful. Mine drops lower when Iโm signing fast. Also, this notary stamp expired eight months ago, and the address listed here is a building that had a fire in 2021. The top floorโs been gutted since.โ
Silence followed.
You looked up. Bucky was staring at you. Steve had gone very still behind you.
โWhat?โ you said. โDid you expect me to faint?โ
Buckyโs metal fingers tapped once against the desk. โI expected you to be less irritating.โ
โI get that a lot from men who disappoint me.โ
Steve made a sound that might have been a cough.
Buckyโs eyes did not leave yours. โYour brother told us you handled some paperwork for him.โ
โMy brother also told a girl named Marisa he owned a boat. He gets ambitious when heโs cornered.โ
โHe said you could explain the company.โ
โI can explain it,โ you said. โEli forged my signature because he knows my full legal name, my birthday, my Social Security number, my old addresses, my motherโs maiden name, and the answers to every security question I used before I learned better. He used me because dead parents leave clean grief and clean grief makes good paper. Then whatever he built with it got used by someone stupider or smarter than him, and when you came looking, he gave you my name because he thought Iโd talk my way out of it.โ
Buckyโs face hardened at the mention of your parents, not with sympathy exactly. More like distaste on your behalf.
Interesting.
โYouโre certain,โ Steve said.
You turned enough to look at him. โIโve been cleaning up after Eli since I was thirteen. I know the smell of his messes.โ
Bucky closed the file. โWhere is he?โ
You smiled, and this one had no sweetness in it. โIf I knew that, do you think Iโd be here?โ
โMaybe. If you were protecting him.โ
โIโm not.โ
โYou were once.โ
That landed because it was true.
You looked back at Bucky. โOnce, I believed family meant dragging someone out of every fire they started, even if they were the one who handed you the match. Iโve matured.โ
โYouโre saying youโd give him to me.โ
โIโm saying I wonโt stand between him and what he earned.โ
Bucky considered you for a long moment. You let him. Men like him liked silence. They thought it made them powerful. Sometimes it did. Sometimes it gave you time to count exits, weapons, habits.
Bucky carried his weight evenly, but the metal arm changed the line of his left shoulder slightly. Not weakness. Adjustment. The prosthetic was not decorative; the fingers moved with precise control, quiet but not silent. Custom work. Expensive. Built for strength and fine motor function both. You wondered who had taken the original arm from him and whether they had lived long enough to regret it.
โYouโre staring,โ he said.
โYour arm is beautiful.โ
Steve looked at you sharply.
Bucky did not move. โThat supposed to flatter me?โ
โNo,โ you said. โIf I were flattering you, Iโd start with your mouth.โ
For the first time, you saw Bucky Barnes caught fully off guard.
It lasted less than a second, but you were close enough to see it. A flicker. A slip in the composed cruelty of his face. Behind you, Steve inhaled once, quiet and controlled.
Then Bucky leaned both hands against the desk.
โYou flirt when youโre afraid?โ
You held his gaze. โI flirt when men expect fear and I donโt feel like being generous.โ
His expression shifted.
There he was, you thought. Not the reputation. Not the room. The man underneath, dangerous and intrigued despite himself.
โYouโre in a bad position,โ Bucky said.
โIโve been in worse.โ
โNot with me.โ
โDonโt take this the wrong way, Barnes, but men have been warning me about men since I was old enough to understand which doors locked from the inside. Youโre not special because youโre dangerous.โ
Bucky smiled then.
It was not kind. It was not safe.
It made heat curl low in your stomach anyway, which was deeply inconvenient.
โSteve,โ he said.
Steve stepped closer. โYeah?โ
โPut her in the upstairs suite.โ
Your head turned. โExcuse me?โ
Bucky opened the file again, dismissing you with the kind of casual authority that made you want to climb over the desk and bite him. โSecure room. Guard on the door. Food. No restraints unless she earns them.โ
โDo all your business properties come with kidnapping amenities?โ
Bucky looked up. โOnly the successful ones.โ
โHow generous,โ you said. โDo I get a mint on the pillow?โ
Bucky looked up. โIf you behave.โ
You smiled slowly. โCareful. I might take that as encouragement.โ
Steveโs hand touched the space between your shoulder blades, not quite pushing. The heat of it went through your coat.
You looked back at Bucky as Steve guided you toward the door.
Bucky was still watching you.
Good, you thought, and hated how satisfying that felt.
๐ฆพ๐ฉธ๐ฅย
The upstairs suite was nicer than your apartment.
That annoyed you more than the guard outside the door.
It was not a bedroom in any personal sense. No photographs. No books. No clothes in the dresser. Just a queen bed with a gray upholstered headboard, a private bathroom stocked with unopened toiletries, a small table by the window, and curtains heavy enough to muffle the rain. The room had been designed for people Bucky Barnes needed alive, comfortable, and unable to leave.
There were no bars on the windows, but they did not open more than four inches. You checked. The door locked from the outside. You checked that too. The guard in the hallway pretended not to hear.
Steve watched from near the dresser as you made your inspection.
โYou always this thorough?โ he asked.
โYou always watch women test their prison cells?โ
โItโs not a cell.โ
You turned from the window. โDoes the door open?โ
His expression did not change.
โThatโs what I thought.โ
Steve exhaled through his nose. Not quite a sigh. โYouโre not being kept here as punishment.โ
โComforting. Iโm sure the legal distinction will keep me warm.โ
He looked tired suddenly. Not weak. Just less polished around the edges. โTwo men are dead.โ
That sobered you.
โI know.โ
โBucky doesnโt let that go.โ
โI wouldnโt respect him if he did.โ
Steveโs gaze held yours.
You had surprised him again. You were beginning to enjoy that too much.
โYou knew men like us growing up?โ he asked.
โMen like you?โ
โCriminals.โ
You laughed softly. โThatโs adorable.โ
His eyebrow lifted.
โI grew up in a neighborhood where everybody knew somebody who knew somebody. The difference between criminals and respectable men was usually tailoring, tax strategy, and whether the cops called ahead before raids. So yes, Steve. I knew men like you. I knew boys who wanted to be men like you. I knew girls who loved men like you and boys who got killed trying to impress them. I knew when to look away and when to look helpless. I knew how to shoot before I was old enough to drive because my motherโs friend kept a .38 in a flour tin and thought grief made children vulnerable.โ
His face had gone still.
You sat on the edge of the bed and began unlacing your boots. โMy brother thinks Iโm stupid because I smile too much. Thatโs his problem.โ
Steve leaned back against the dresser. โI donโt think youโre stupid.โ
โNo,โ you said, pulling one boot off. โYou think Iโm useful.โ
โI think youโre dangerous.โ
You looked up.
There was no flirtation in his voice. No condescension either.
Something in your chest softened, just enough to be risky.
You covered it with a smile. โCareful, Rogers. Compliments on the first kidnapping?โ
โIโm trying to decide if youโre going to make this worse for yourself.โ
โProbably.โ
โIโd rather you didnโt.โ
โBecause youโre nice?โ
His mouth tightened. โNo.โ
โBecause Bucky told you to keep me alive?โ
โPartly.โ
โAnd the other part?โ
He was silent long enough that the rain filled the room.
Then he said, โBecause you were right about the signature.โ
You dropped your second boot beside the first. โThat bothers you.โ
โIt bothers me that we missed it.โ
โWe?โ
โMe,โ Steve said.
Buckyโs right hand, then. Not just muscle. Not just charm. The man who checked the paper before Bucky put blood behind it.
You leaned back on your hands. โDid you disappoint him?โ
Steveโs face closed.
Oh.
That had hit.
You should have stopped. You did not.
โIs that what all this is?โ you asked softly. โYou brought him bad evidence, and now Iโm sitting in a luxury closet until you figure out whether your mistake got men killed?โ
Steve crossed the room so fast you barely had time to stand.
He stopped before touching you, but only just. He was close enough that you had to tip your chin up to hold his gaze, close enough to see the tension in his jaw and the gold flecks in his anger.
โYou donโt know what youโre talking about,โ he said.
โNo,โ you said. โBut I know guilt when it walks into a room wearing a nice suit.โ
His eyes searched yours.
For a second, neither of you moved.
Then, slowly, the anger drained into something heavier.
โI checked the top layer,โ he said. โThe company looked clean. Cleaner than it shouldโve been, maybe, but Eli had done work for people who knew how to cover their tracks. The safehouse lease had your name and enough matching details to make it plausible. Bucky wanted you brought in alive because something felt wrong.โ
โSomething?โ
Steveโs gaze dipped to your mouth again, then away. โYou.โ
โYou didnโt know me.โ
โI knew the file was too neat.โ
You smiled faintly. โThatโs almost sweet.โ
โItโs not.โ
โYou say that a lot for someone who keeps doing almost sweet things.โ
Steve stepped back. The space he left behind felt colder.
โThereโs food coming,โ he said. โEat. Sleep if you can. Donโt try the window.โ
โYou already know I tried the window.โ
โI know youโll try it again.โ
You tilted your head. โAnd if I get out?โ
The look he gave you was almost fond, which was dangerous for both of you.
โThen Iโll be impressed,โ he said, and left.
You waited until the lock clicked.
Then you smiled.
The guard outside your door was named Peter, though he did not tell you.
You learned it because another man came by at midnight with coffee and said, โPete, you need anything?โ and Peter said, โFor this shift to end.โ
Peter was young. Too young to be guarding women in locked rooms for Bucky Barnes, though old enough to have chosen it. He stood with his weight on his left leg, favoring the right knee. Injury. Maybe recent. He checked his phone every twelve minutes and tried to hide it. He kept his gun on his right hip, retention strap loose. He was bored by one in the morning and embarrassed by two because you started singing quietly through the door.
โPlease stop,โ he said.
You paused mid-verse. โPeter, is that any way to speak to a kidnapped woman?โ
Silence.
Then, suspiciously, โHow do you know my name?โ
โYou have the energy of a Peter.โ
โThat doesnโt mean anything.โ
โSure it does. Very earnest. Slightly damp. Probably says sorry when someone steps on his foot.โ
โI donโt.โ
โYou just apologized to the wall when your shoulder bumped it.โ
A longer silence.
โYou saw that?โ
โI contain multitudes.โ
He did not answer, but you heard him shift.
By three, you had removed the small metal collar stay from the dress shirt Steve had left folded on the chair along with sweatpants and a toothbrush, because apparently Bucky Barnes kidnapped with amenities. By three-fifteen, you had bent it against the bed frame. By three-thirty, you were on the floor by the door, listening to Peter breathe.
Lockpicking a door from the wrong side with a collar stay was neither elegant nor quick, nor wise. Fortunately, you were patient when spite required it.
The lock gave at three-forty-two.
You opened the door half an inch.
Peter was asleep in the chair across the hall, chin tipped toward his chest.
โPeter,โ you whispered.
He jerked awake so hard he nearly dropped his phone.
You opened the door the rest of the way and looked at him.
He looked at you.
Then at the lock.
Then back at you.
โOh, come on,โ he said, devastated.
You almost felt bad for him. โIโm not going to tell Steve if you donโt.โ
โMr. Rogers is going to kill me.โ
โProbably not. You have such a trustworthy face.โ
โPlease go back inside.โ
โPeter,โ you said gently. โNo.โ
He reached for his gun. You were already moving.
You caught his wrist, stepped in close, and drove your knee into the inside of his thigh hard enough to buckle him without ruining his life. His hand spasmed. You took the gun, dropped the magazine, cleared the chamber, and set the weapon neatly on the hall table behind you.
Peter stared, pale and offended.
โYouโre not bad,โ you told him. โYouโre just too young to be this tired.โ
โIโm twenty-five.โ
โEmotionally, youโre nineteen.โ
โMs.โโ
โOh, do not start being respectful now. Itโll make me feel worse.โ
You left him sitting on the floor and moved down the hall barefoot.
The upper floors of the restaurant were larger than they looked from outside; the original building connected to the one beside it through some interior renovation money had probably made invisible on paper. This was not a home. You knew that almost immediately. Homes had clutter, bad mail, forgotten shoes, a smell that belonged to the people who slept there. This place had polished floors, framed black-and-white photographs of Brooklyn, closed doors, cameras placed too neatly in corners, and the quiet efficiency of a business that expected trouble often enough to plan for it.ย
You moved through dark hallways, past framed black-and-white photographs of Brooklyn, closed doors, and a stairwell with a camera in the corner. You did not look at the camera. Looking at cameras made people look guilty. You walked like you belonged there and counted seven possible exits before you reached a door at the end of a hall where light cut thin beneath the frame.
Voices came from inside.
Bucky and Steve.
You should have kept walking.
Instead, you stopped.
โHer brotherโs gone to ground,โ Steve said. โNobodyโs seen him since yesterday afternoon.โ
โSomeoneโs seen him,โ Bucky replied. โTheyโre lying.โ
โProbably.โ
A pause.
Then Bucky said, โYou believe her.โ
โI believe she didnโt sign those documents.โ
โThat wasnโt what I asked.โ
Steve was quiet.
You leaned closer before you could tell yourself not to.
โI believe Eli used her,โ Steve said. โI believe heโs been using her for years.โ
Bucky made a soft sound, displeased. โYou got all that from one conversation?โ
โI got it from the file before I ever saw her. Parents died. Brother starts forging paper within two years. Sheโs listed as emergency contact on three arrests that never stuck, two hospital visits, one eviction proceeding. Every time he gets close to consequence, her name shows up somewhere nearby. Sheโs not his partner, Buck. Sheโs his cleanup.โ
Your throat tightened.
It was one thing to know it.
It was another to hear a stranger lay it out in a room where you were not supposed to be.
โAnd now?โ Bucky asked.
โNow sheโs done.โ
A beat passed.
Buckyโs voice lowered. โYou admire her.โ
Steve did not answer.
You pressed your lips together, warmth rising where fear should have been.
Then Bucky said, โSo do I.โ
The admission was so soft you nearly missed it.
Your breath caught.
Behind you, someone cleared his throat.
You turned.
A man stood at the far end of the hall with a gun pointed at your chest.
For one terrible second, you were not fast enough.
Then the office door opened.
The manโs eyes flicked toward it.
You moved.
You threw yourself sideways as the gun went off. The sound cracked through the hallway, deafening in the narrow space. Pain burned across your upper arm. You hit the floor, rolled behind a console table, and kicked the nearest decorative vase hard enough to send ceramic shards exploding across the hall.
The man cursed.
Bucky came out of the office like a storm.
You had seen dangerous men move before. You had seen men fight drunk, desperate, trained, angry. Bucky was something else. Controlled brutality, every movement stripped down to purpose. His metal hand closed around the gunmanโs wrist with a sound you felt in your teeth. The man screamed as the weapon clattered to the floor. Steve was there a second later, gun drawn, body angled between you and the far stairwell.
โDown,โ Steve ordered.
โIโm already on the floor,โ you snapped, clutching your arm.
โStay there.โ
โBossy.โ
Bucky slammed the gunman into the wall hard enough to crack plaster. โWho sent you?โ
The man groaned.
Buckyโs metal fingers tightened.
โWait,โ you said.
Bucky did not look at you.
โWait,โ you repeated, sharper. โHis shoes.โ
Steve glanced at you. โWhat?โ
โHis shoes,โ you said through your teeth. โKitchen soles. He came through the back of the restaurant, not the front. Heโs staff or came in with staff. Ask who opened the back door.โ
Bucky looked down at the manโs shoes.
Then he smiled.
It was not a pleasant smile.
The gunman started talking before Bucky asked again.
It took twenty minutes for the building to settle.
It did not settle quietly. Men moved through the upper floors with guns drawn. Peter, humiliated and pale, kept apologizing until Steve told him to stop talking. Someone found the kitchen porter tied up in the alley behind the restaurant, alive but bleeding. Someone else found the back door lock bypassed by a code that should have been changed last week.
Your arm needed stitches.
You told them it did not.
Steve looked at the blood soaking your sleeve and said, โYouโre a terrible liar.โ
โIโm an excellent liar. Iโm just bleeding.โ
Bucky stood across the room, his shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, his metal arm gleaming beneath the office lights. There was blood on his right hand that you did not think was yours. He had not spoken to you since asking if you could stand. You had said yes. He had looked at you as if he did not believe you, then let Steve guide you into the office anyway.
A doctor arrived with a leather bag and the weary expression of a man who had been paid too much to ask questions. He cleaned the wound while you sat on Buckyโs couch, Steve crouched in front of you, one hand braced lightly on your knee as if he expected you to bolt.
You considered it, mostly on principle.
The doctor gave you a local anesthetic and started stitching.
โHold still,โ Steve said.
โI am holding still.โ
โYouโre glaring.โ
โWith my face, Steve. Not my arm.โ
Bucky huffed a quiet laugh from across the room.
You looked at him immediately.
He was leaning against his desk, arms crossed, gaze fixed on you with an intensity that made your pulse misbehave. You should have been angry. You were angry. You had been kidnapped, shot at, and stitched on a couch by a doctor whose name you had not been given. But Bucky Barnes had laughed because of you, and some reckless part of you wanted to hear it again.
โYou did well,โ you told him.
The room went still.
The doctor, to his credit, kept stitching.
Buckyโs expression did something complicated. โWhat?โ
โWith the gunman,โ you said. โFast. Efficient. Very scary. Iโd clap, but Iโve been injured in your custody, so that feels insensitive to me.โ
Steveโs hand tightened once on your knee.
Bucky stared at you.
โYouโre praising me?โ he asked.
โYou sound suspicious.โ
โI am.โ
โI can take it back.โ
โDonโt.โ
The word came too quickly.
Oh.
You looked at him. Really looked.
Bucky Barnes, who had built a kingdom out of fear and favors, stood in front of you with blood on his hand and something almost boyish buried beneath the danger in his face, as if approval were a language he understood but had not been spoken in too long.
Steve noticed too. You knew he did because his thumb moved once against your knee, a slow, absent stroke that he stopped the moment he realized he was doing it.
The doctor tied off the last stitch. โSheโll live.โ
โGood,โ Bucky said, eyes still on you.
You smiled. โWere you worried?โ
โYes,โ he said.
The answer hit harder because he did not dress it up.
Your smile faltered.
Steve stood, removing his hand from your knee as if he had held it there too long. โIโll walk the doctor out.โ
The doctor looked between the three of you and clearly decided survival lay in pretending he had not noticed anything.
When the door closed behind them, you and Bucky were alone.
Rain tapped lightly against the high window.
โYou picked my lock,โ Bucky said.
โYou locked my door.โ
โYou disarmed my guard.โ
โHe was sleepy.โ
โYou got shot.โ
โThat part wasnโt in the plan.โ
Bucky pushed away from the desk and crossed the room. You held still because you refused to retreat on a couch with stitches in your arm, and because the closer he came, the more you could feel the pull of him. It was not just attraction, though there was enough of that to make poor decisions bloom in the back of your mind. It was gravity. He had it. Steve had it too, different but no less dangerous. Bucky drew attention like a blade in low light. Steve drew it like a hand at your back before you knew you needed steadying.
Bucky stopped in front of you.
โYou heard us,โ he said.
โSome of it.โ
โHow much?โ
โEnough to know Steve thinks Iโm cleanup.โ
Buckyโs mouth flattened.
โHeโs not wrong,โ you said.
โHe sounded angry.โ
โHe should be. I am.โ
โAt him?โ
โAt Eli,โ you said. โAt myself. At the fact that two strangers saw it in a file before I admitted it out loud.โ
Bucky sat on the edge of the coffee table, facing you. It was such a strangely human thing to do that you almost forgot who he was. Almost.
โWhy protect him for so long?โ he asked.
You looked at your bandaged arm. โBecause after our parents died, he was the only person who remembered what the house sounded like before it got quiet. He knew which songs my mother played when she cleaned. He knew my father burned eggs every Sunday and pretended we liked them. He knew how my name sounded when someone said it without wanting anything. For a long time, I thought losing Eli would mean losing the last witness.โ
Buckyโs gaze softened in a way that looked painful on him.
โAnd now?โ he asked.
โNow I think witnesses can lie.โ
The silence between you changed.
Bucky reached out slowly, giving you time to move away. You did not. His metal hand touched the edge of your bandage with astonishing care, fingers cool through the gauze.
โDoes it hurt?โ
โYes.โ
His jaw tightened.
โItโs not your bullet,โ you said.
โYouโre in my building.โ
โI picked the lock in your building.โ
โYou shouldnโt have had to.โ
That made you look at him.
He did not take it back.
โYouโre very confusing,โ you said.
โIโm usually not.โ
โNo, I bet youโre usually very straightforward. Threaten, brood, maim, repeat.โ
His mouth curved despite himself. โYou think I brood?โ
โI think you own several coats designed for brooding.โ
โI own several coats designed for not getting blood on my shirts.โ
โThatโs worse, but I appreciate the practicality.โ
Bucky laughed again, quieter this time.
You wanted to put your hands on him.
The realization was so sudden and so inconvenient that you looked away.
Bucky noticed. โYou should sleep.โ
โYou should stop locking doors.โ
โIโll move you to a room with a guard inside instead of outside.โ
You gave him a flat look. โTry again.โ
โDoor unlocked,โ he said. โGuard at the hall. Window still doesnโt open.โ
โProgress.โ
โYouโll stay put.โ
โWill I?โ
His eyes dropped to your mouth.
Heat slid through you, slow and unwelcome and entirely your fault.
โIf you have any sense,โ he said.
โIโve been accused of many things, Barnes. Thatโs rarely one of them.โ
Steve returned before Bucky could answer.
His gaze moved from Buckyโs metal hand near your bandage to your face, and something passed over his expression too quickly to name. Not jealousy, exactly. Awareness. A tightening thread.
โDoctorโs gone,โ he said. โBack entrance is secure. The shooter gave us a name.โ
Bucky stood, all softness folding away. โWho?โ
โRumlow.โ
You knew that name.
Both men saw it.
Steve shut the door behind him. โYouโve heard of him.โ
โBrock Rumlow,โ you said. โHe runs jobs for people who donโt want their names near the work. Eli used him once, maybe twice. I told him Rumlow was too expensive for what he needed, and Eli told me I didnโt understand business.โ
Buckyโs expression sharpened. โRumlow has Eli?โ
โMaybe,โ you said. โOr Eli has something Rumlow wants.โ
โThe money?โ
โMoney, documents, account keys. Something portable. Eli doesnโt run unless he thinks he has a bargaining chip.โ
Steve moved closer. โWhere would he go?โ
You leaned back against the couch, exhaustion pressing suddenly at the edges of your body. Your arm throbbed. Your hip ached from the lobby floor. Your head felt too clear and too heavy at once.
โThereโs a print shop in Red Hook,โ you said. โClosed officially. Still runs specialty jobs in the back. Eli used it when he needed seals or old-format licenses. The owner has a niece he used to sleep with and a basement he thinks nobody knows about.โ
Bucky looked at Steve. โAddress?โ
You gave it to him.
Steve typed it into his phone.
โIโm coming,โ you said.
โNo,โ both men said at once.
You smiled slowly despite the pain. โCute.โ
Buckyโs gaze cut back to you. โYou have stitches.โ
โI also have context.โ
โYou have blood loss.โ
โI have had worse periods.โ
Steve closed his eyes briefly, as if praying for patience.
Bucky pointed at you. โYouโre not coming.โ
You stood.
It was not your wisest decision. The room tilted slightly. Steve stepped forward, hands lifting but not touching until you steadied yourself. That restraint did something awful to you.
โI have spent my entire life being left behind by men who thought they knew better,โ you said, looking at Bucky. โI am done being the name on the paper and the girl in the room and the problem someone else solves badly. Eli is my brother. He used me. He framed me. He got your men killed, or he helped cover for whoever did. I am coming with you.โ
Buckyโs face hardened. โThis isnโt a negotiation.โ
โEverything is a negotiation. Youโre just used to winning early.โ
Steve made that almost-cough again.
You did not look away from Bucky.
At last, Bucky smiled.
There was no warmth in it. There was, however, admiration.
โFine,โ he said. โYou stay between Steve and me. You do exactly what we say. You donโt carry unless I give you a weapon.โ
โYou say the sweetest things.โ
โIf you run, Steve catches you.โ
Steveโs mouth curved faintly. โI will.โ
You glanced at him. โYou sound excited.โ
โIโm trying not to be.โ
Bucky looked between you, and something possessive moved over his face before he smothered it.
โYou two done?โ he asked.
You smiled at him. โDo you feel left out?โ
His eyes darkened.
Steve looked down at his phone like a man making a heroic effort to survive the conversation.
You had the sudden, dizzying thought that this was going to become a problem.
Then Bucky said, โGet her a coat.โ
And just like that, it already had.
๐ฆพ๐ฉธ๐ฅย
credit to @uzmacchiato for the cherry divider โค๏ธ๐
~ Warning: self destructive/risk seeking behaviors as a method of s3lf h@rm
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Padme/Anakin
There is Someone Left to Save (9/9) by @MissChrisDaae
~ Padme Amidala lives, b!tches!
Anakin Skywalker/Reader
Counseling (24/24)ย by @ohgodmyeyes
~ You're Anakin's grief counsellor...and his kids' old babysitter AND his almost-affair partner (age gap). Contains smut.
Tough Guyย by @ohgodmyeyes
~ Hockey player AU
Eventide (49/49)ย ย by @ohgodmyeyes
~ Luke Skywalker drags his dying father from the wreckage of the second Death Star...and deposits him on your doorstep (Healer! Force Sensitive! Reader)
Cal Kestis/Reader
Hold Me Through the Stormย ย by @BatCatMooney63
~ Stuck on the Mantis in an extreme Hoth snow storm, feelings come to light. Contains smut.
Red Tinted Visors and Blue Lightsabers (5/5)ย by @SlightlyAce
~ Childhood best friends to enemies to lovers, secret identity, Inquisitor!Reader
Strictly Business (10/10)ย by @word_borne
~ A droid mechanic catches the eye of Inquisitor!Cal
An Unexpected Visit (Cal Kestis x Mechanic!Reader)ย by @kindasleepywriter
Of bunk beds and confessionsย by @goosewriting
~ A new crew member on the Mantis makes reader hesistant to confess their feelings to Cal
โYou see meโฆfor meโย ย by @geekywritings
~ You are a shy cartographer with the Mantis crew, with a secret love for drawing sketches of Cal.
Heartbeat Like Thunderย by @sprout-fics-reblogs
~ Tatooine-born reader experiences her first thunderstorm
Wherever you go, I go (3/3)ย by @goosewriting
~ Gender neutral reader, reader questions whether they knew Cal at all after being rescued from Bracca
Ezra Bridger/Reader
Green-Eyed Monsterย by @Mandosaur
~ Reader is reunited with Ezra after 10 years, still tormented by the thought that Sabine would have been a better fit for him.
welcome to my masterlist! here youโll find all my work in one place!
join a taglist request guidelines coming soon
wildflower - eddie munson x fem!reader and steve harrington x fem!reader love triangle๏ฝhenderson!reader, mom!reader, dad!eddie, rockstar!eddie, ex!eddie, best friend!steve, choose your ending๏ฝ+18๏ฝongoing
when eddie left hawkins to chase his rockstar dreams, you kept a major secret from himโin the form of a little boy with his fatherโs big brown eyes and mop of curls. your best friend, steve, has always taken care of both of you, stepping into the place he left behind. two years later, eddie is coming home.
the needle and the damage done - eddie munson x fem!reader๏ฝmom!wife!reader, dad!husband!eddie, rockstar!eddie, addict!eddie๏ฝ+18๏ฝongoing
years after corroded coffin became the biggest band in the world, eddieโs life hasnโt gone the way he hoped. deep into a years-long drug addiction, all he wants is to save himself and repair his family.
real love, baby - billy hargrove x fem!reader๏ฝhookup to lovers, accidental pregnancy๏ฝ+18๏ฝongoing
no one was supposed to know billy hargrove was sleeping with one of hawkins highโs freaks. you having his baby turns everything upside down.
we are never getting back together - eddie munson x fem!reader๏ฝex husband!eddie, ex wife!reader, dad!eddie, mom!reader, older!eddie, new boyfriend!steve๏ฝ+18๏ฝongoing
when you start dating your former classmate, steve, two years after your divorce, youโre hopeful for a new chapter. your ex husband, eddie, has a new relationship of his ownโbut is still unwilling to let you go.
nothingโs gonna hurt you, baby - eddie munson x fem!reader๏ฝdbf!eddie, older!eddie, harrington!reader, dadโs best friend trope๏ฝ+18๏ฝongoing
being forced to move back to your dadโs boring hometown was a bummer. his long-ago best friend, eddie, makes things more interesting.
teen pregnancy series - a ST x fem!reader pregnancy series๏ฝ+18๏ฝongoing
unexpected pregnancies with the stranger things characters.
donโt say you love me - eddie munson x fem!reader, billy hargrove x fem!reader๏ฝhopper!reader, love triangle, accidental pregnancy๏ฝ+18๏ฝongoing
all these years youโve carefully curated your good girl imageโat least, with your chief of police dad. so, how do you tell him youโre pregnant and donโt know which of hawkinsโ bad boys is the father?
such small hands - eddie munson x fem!reader๏ฝhenderson!reader, major angst, hurt/little comfort, post s4 events, accidental pregnancy, some x steve๏ฝ+18๏ฝongoing
after the tragic death of your boyfriend, you discover a piece of him remains with you.
when you walk towards me - steve harrington x fem!reader๏ฝex husband!billy, divorced mom!reader, former best friend!steve, baseball coach!steve๏ฝ+18๏ฝcoming soon but like really soon
when you married billy right after graduation, steve never thought heโd see his former best friend again. eleven years and a divorce later, heโs coaching your sonโand hoping for a second chance.
baby daddy! rafe series - a rafe cameron x fem!reader anthology series๏ฝdad!rafe, mom!reader, ex!rafe๏ฝ+18๏ฝongoing
snapshots of your life with your daughterโand your ex, rafe cameron.
stop the stars - billy hargrove x fem! oc katelyn henderson๏ฝhookup to lovers angst๏ฝ+18๏ฝhiatus?
coming soon
runaways - steve harrington x fem!reader๏ฝpreacherโs daughter!reader, track star!reader, baseball player!steve๏ฝ+18๏ฝcoming soon
bigger than the whole sky - steve harrington x fem!reader๏ฝangst, hurt/comfort, pregnancy, loss๏ฝ+18๏ฝcoming soon
closer to morning - eddie munson x fem!reader๏ฝex husband!steve, step dad!eddie, mom!reader, dad!steve๏ฝ+18๏ฝcoming soon
jason doesnโt know - eddie munson x fem!reader๏ฝjason carverโs wife!reader, cheating๏ฝ+18๏ฝcoming soon
dinner in america - eddie munson x fem!reader๏ฝbased on the movie๏ฝ+18๏ฝcoming soon
scream: the hawkins massacre - an eddie munson x fem!reader horror miniseries๏ฝscream au๏ฝ+18๏ฝcoming soon maybe but donโt hold your breath because iโve been fighting with this draft for months
steve harrington
zombie movies & first kisses - steve x fem!reader๏ฝhenderson!reader, first date๏ฝ3.3k words๏ฝfluff
your brother sets you up with his good friend steve.
lover boy - steve x fem!reader๏ฝmodern college au, frat king!steve๏ฝ3.3k words๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
your โfriendโ with benefits is the most popular guy on campus, and also no good for you. unfortunately, you canโt avoid him when his frat throws the best parties. (reimagining of this idea set in the 80s coming soon)
for the very first time - steve x fem!reader๏ฝvirgin!reader๏ฝ4.7k words๏ฝ+18๏ฝfluff, smut
steve is determined to make your first time special.
is there someone else? - steve x fem!reader, some eddie munson x fem!reader๏ฝcollege au๏ฝ4.5k words๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
eddie, your friend with benefits, ditches you for the night. waiting for him in his dorm is embarrassingโgood thing his roommate is there to keep you company.
baby, itโs cold outside - steve x fem!reader๏ฝbest friend!steve, christmas๏ฝpromptmas 2024๏ฝ3.4k words๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
a planned movie night with your best friend turns into more when you get trapped in a snow storm.
fall in love again - steve x fem!reader๏ฝmom!reader, dad!steve, ex husband!steve๏ฝchristmas โ24๏ฝ1.5k words๏ฝfluff
your ex husband steve comes over to spend christmas eve with you and your three kids.
no one knows (oh, what you do to me) - steve x fem!reader๏ฝceo!steve, older!steve, personal assistant!reader๏ฝ1k celebration๏ฝ3k words๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
being the personal assistant to the companyโs ceo comes with a lot of perks. heโs kind, it pays well, and heโs also very hot. at a company party, your dreams finally come true. prompt: โbehave.โ
there is no other love (itโs only yours) - steve x fem!reader ๏ฝ best friend!reader, idiots in love๏ฝ8k words๏ฝfluff
you and your best friend are constantly mistaken for a couple - sometimes you have a little fun with it. or, 5 times you were mistaken for steve harringtonโs girlfriend, and the one time you really were.
call out my name - steve x fem!reader๏ฝbest friend!secret boyfriend!steve๏ฝ4.9k words๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
nancy calls while your secret best friend-turned-boyfriend is over. he puts your self control to the test.
hard to concentrate - steve x fem!reader๏ฝs5 finale breeding kink๏ฝ4.2k words๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
vecna has finally been defeated. everything youโve been through makes steve realize how in love he is, and how badly he wants to build something new and beautiful with you.
whoโs gonna drive you home tonight? part one - steve x fem!reader๏ฝfrat!steve, sorority girl!reader, enemies to lovers, secret fwb, repressed feelings๏ฝ17.5k words๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
when a frat party like any other turns into something heated with the guy you hate more than anyone else, neither of you are sure how to deal with it.
gator tillman
you know my desire - gator x fem!reader๏ฝgunplay๏ฝ1.9k words๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
you and gator try something new and exciting.
donโt forget (youโre mine) - gator x fem!reader๏ฝ2k words๏ฝ1k celebration๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
gator interrupts a night out with your friends. prompt: โif you make me pull over, i swear you wonโt be able to walk for the next week.โ
if i catch youโฆ - gator x fem!reader๏ฝdark fic, cnc, almost noncon, gun/knifeplay๏ฝ4.1k words๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
you find yourself tied up in a cabin deep in the north dakota woods. your captor gives you an offer, the opportunity to runโฆ
the last supper - gator x fem!reader๏ฝsoft gator, sweet!reader๏ฝ4.2k words๏ฝangst/fluff
your boyfriend, gator, brings you to sunday dinner to meet his family for the first time.
kurt kunkle
cam - kurt x fem!reader๏ฝonlyfans!girlfriend!reader, virgin pathetic submissive kurt๏ฝ5.7k words๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
you invite your boyfriend, kurt, to collab with you on a video for your onlyfans to cheer him up.
eddie munson
late night with the devil - eddie x fem!reader๏ฝ3.6k words๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
all of hawkins, including your parents, think your boyfriend is a devil worshipper. you have to sneak out at night to see him, but he makes it very worth it.
please please please - eddie x fem!reader๏ฝhopper!reader, delinquent!eddie๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
the police chiefโs daughter gets involved with hawkinsโ most notorious delinquent metalhead.
flesh and bone - eddie x fem!reader๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
eddie loves to worship you.
new yearโs magic - eddie x fem!reader๏ฝNYE โ24๏ฝfluff
you share a special moment with eddie at steveโs annual new yearโs party.
nothing else matters - eddie x fem!reader๏ฝolder!eddie, birthday boy for CCF๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
eddie is bummed about turning 40โyou help him feel better.
meet the parents - eddie x fem!reader๏ฝpromptmas โ24๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
eddie meets your parents on christmas eve in the worst way possible.
do you trust me? - eddie x fem!reader๏ฝvampire!eddie๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
surviving the upside down changed something in eddie. heโs finally ready to show you.
please be gentle (when youโre tearing me apart) - eddie x fem!reader, steve harrington x fem!reader๏ฝasshole!eddie๏ฝ+18๏ฝmajor angst, some smut
youโre in love with eddie, eddieโs in love with someone else. somehow, he accidentally ends up in a relationship with you anyway.
do you wanna come over? - eddie x fem!reader๏ฝvirgin!eddie, cheerleader!reader๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
hawkinsโ most popular takes it upon herself to help the local freak lose his virginity.
shelter from the storm - eddie x fem!reader๏ฝfirst time, one bed trope, friends to lovers๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
a bad storm results in you staying the night with your best friend, and sharing a bed brings out some unexpected revelations.
dnd: do not disturb - eddie x fem!reader๏ฝ public sex๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
eddie makes it up to you after hellfire runs too long.
no vacancy - eddie x fem!reader๏ฝrockstar au, one (no?) bed trope๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
when thereโs not enough beds for the whole band, you and eddie share the back of the van.
wildest dreams - eddie x fem!reader๏ฝvirgin!eddie, best friend!reader, first time, friends to lovers๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
your best friend asks you to take his virginity.
you must be a dream - eddie x fem!reader๏ฝperv!eddie, virgin!eddie, Carver!reader, popular!cheerleader!reader, fwb!king!steve, pure filth๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
โคท part 2
eddie is obsessed with the queen of hawkins. maybe itโs a little unhinged, but he canโt help himself, not when you look like that.
right down the line - eddie x fem!reader๏ฝrockstar!eddie, older!eddie, manager!reader๏ฝ+18๏ฝangst, smut
โคท part 2
as corroded coffinโs manager, you know you should stay away from eddie. getting involved with your biggest client would be career ruining. unfortunately, he makes that very hard.
johnny storm
the calm before the storm - johnny x fem!reader๏ฝaccidental pregnancy, contains movie spoilers๏ฝ+18๏ฝfluff, smut, angst
when you finally work up the courage to tell johnny some major news, the last thing you expect is for sue to beat you to it. but parenthood isnโt even the scariest thing headed your way.
emperor geta
an heir for an emperor - geta x fem!reader๏ฝempress!reader๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
the emperor has decided he wants an heir. itโs a duty youโre happy to fulfill.
the emperorโs love - geta x fem!reader๏ฝ empress!reader๏ฝpart 2๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
geta shows you how in love he is with the sight of you carrying his heir.
both arms cradle you now - geta x fem!reader๏ฝsurprise pregnancy, forbidden love๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
as the emperorโs favorite concubine, you long for a future you know will never be true. falling pregnant with his child puts everything at risk.
sam (warfare)
coming home to you - sam x fem!wife!reader๏ฝcheck warnings!๏ฝ+18๏ฝangst, fluff, smut
sam is heartbroken to leave his pregnant wife home when heโs deployed - but he doesnโt expect things to go quite so wrong.
billy hargrove
how do i live without you? - billy x fem!reader, platonic steve harrington x reader๏ฝpregnant!reader๏ฝangst with some fluff
when your boyfriend dies shortly after finding out youโre having his baby, your friends step in to take care of you.
out of control - billy x fem!reader๏ฝdubcon, sex pollen๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
you and pain-in-your-ass billy hargrove encounter something weird in the tunnels. something that drives you both a little wild.
you canโt fix this - billy x fem!reader๏ฝdubcon๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
โคท part 2
you make a deal with billy so heโll leave your best friend, eddie, alone.
jonathan byers
girls on film - jonathan x fem!reader๏ฝshy!reader๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
you get paired with jonathan for a photography project, and suggest something a little experimental.
undressed - jonathan x fem!reader๏ฝmunson!reader, first time, virgin!jonathan๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
after smoking with jonathan for the first time, he accidentally admits his feelings for you.
robin buckley
naked in manhattan - robin x fem!reader๏ฝbest friend!robin๏ฝpromptmas โ24๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
while sharing a hotel room with your best friend during the band trip to nyc (and sneaking in some drinks), robin shows you a whole new world.
harringrove
i bet on losing dogs - billy hargrove x steve harrington๏ฝ+18๏ฝangst, smut
steve never liked billy, not as a friend or even as a person. falling in love with him was a mistake he never meant to make.
rafe cameron
baby, come here (i get so lonely at night) - rafe x fem!reader๏ฝfrat!rafe๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
rafe texts you to come over. you can never tell him no.
jj maybank
friends donโt - jj x fem!reader๏ฝbest friend!jj๏ฝfluff
jj has always been your best friend and nothing more. only these arenโt things just friends do.
joel miller
listen to that fireplace roar - joel x fem!reader๏ฝyounger!reader๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
itโs snowing heavily outside, and joel really doesnโt want you to leave.
steve harrington
take a ride - steve x fem!reader๏ฝ334 words๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
steve wants to make a baby in his truck.
good for us - steve x eddie munson x fem!reader๏ฝhard dom!steve, soft dom!eddie, sub!reader, threesome๏ฝ768 words๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
youโre always so good for your boyfriends.
kiss me - steve x fem!reader๏ฝcoworker!reader๏ฝ1k celebration๏ฝ1k words๏ฝfluff
your coworker steve has a crush on you, but heโs too scared to make a move.
eager to please - steve x fem!reader๏ฝrockstar!steve๏ฝ577 words๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
you get to go backstage with your favorite rockstar, and show him just how good you can make him feel.
lonely on tour - steve x fem!reader๏ฝmodern rockstar!steve, instagram baddie!reader๏ฝ1k words๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
while on tour, steve falls for the hottest influencer heโs ever seen while on instagram. he has to have you.
billy hargrove
pleaseโฆ - billy x fem!reader๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
you make him beg.
eddie munson
good for us - eddie x steve harrington x fem!reader๏ฝhard dom!steve, soft dom!eddie, sub!reader, threesome๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
youโre always so good for your boyfriends.
pussydrunk eddie - eddie x fem!reader๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
he canโt think about anything else.
sucking eddie off - eddie x fem!reader๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
no one makes him feel as good as you do.
eddie & plus size gf go to prom - eddie x plus size! fem!reader๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
eddie canโt control himself when he sees you in your prom dress.
love letters - eddie x fem!reader๏ฝdom!eddie๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
your boyfriend leaves filthy notes for you at school.
obey your (dungeon) master - eddie x fem!reader๏ฝdom!eddie๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
eddie teaches you a lesson for being impatient. prompts: โkeep talking back, i dare you.โ & โiโll give that mouth something to do.โ
donโt stop - eddie x fem!reader๏ฝsub!eddie๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
you make eddie fall apart.
rafe cameron
rafe & his plus size gf - rafe x plus size! fem!reader๏ฝ+18๏ฝsmut
rafe is obsessed with his girlfriend and her body.
jason hochberg
private lessons - jason x fem!reader๏ฝfirst kiss๏ฝfluff
head counselor jason teaches you archery.
headcanons
the guys taking care of you while sick - billy hargrove, eddie munson, eric (aqpdo)
virgin!perv!Eddie Munson x popular!cheerleader!Carver!fem!reader
some fwb!king!Steve Harrington x reader
Masterlist Tag Lists
Summary:
Eddie canโt help being obsessed with you, even though he knows youโre unattainable. The single most popular girl in school - and the hottest heโs ever seen. Maybe he takes his infatuation a little too far, but who can blame him when you look like that? Besides - sometimes dreams do come true.
Part 2
Warnings:
Smut (18+), like a lot of smut, masturbation, unprotected p in v, creampie, voyeurism, public sex, mild dubcon (drunk sex), perv behavior, panty stealing/sniffing, looking up skirts, toxic relationship (with steve), virgin!eddie, perv!eddie, sub!eddie, experienced!reader, king!steve is an asshole
Word Count: 14.1k
A/N:
This is an Eddie romance but there is a lot of smut with Steve in this part - just so youโre prepared! When I say perv!Eddie, I mean it. Big thanks to @punkrockmlchael for my banner, beta reading, and helping me with Corroded Coffin dialogue, and to @writhingg for always being an amazing beta reader!!
Eddieโs hand slid up and down his slick cock, sufficiently lubed up with a mixture of precum and his own saliva. His stomach muscles tightened with every stroke, his head thrown back and eyes closed as he pictured you.
โFuck,โ he breathed out quickly, thumb swiping over his slit, making him moan pathetically.
He opened his eyes. He looked over to the yearbook he held in his left hand, propped open to the only page he ever looked at - your cheerleading portrait. Your beautiful face, your tits in that tight top, your legs in that tiny little skirt. God, how badly he wanted to bend you over, lift that skirt up-
His hips bucked up into his fist involuntarily, a whimper of your name escaping his lips. He had been holding off his orgasm for a while, bringing himself down every time he was on the edge before taking himself back there. Now he didnโt know if he could hold off- he was going to cum, hard.
โYou like that?โ he whispered to your picture, eyes locked on you. โYโlike when I fuck you like this? Taking this thick cock in your little pussy?โ A shaky groan clawed its way out of his throat, his eyes fluttering closed before he snapped them open to look at you again.
โFuck, baby, Iโm gonna cum,โ he whined. โYouโre gonna make me cum so hard. Gonna give it to you, give you everything.โ
His eyes traveled up your body in your yearbook photo, lingering on your tits before finally locking in on your face.
โShit.โ He moaned your name in a shaky breath, imagining you were here with those pretty pink lips wrapped around his shaft - or maybe balls deep in your pussy, watching your perfect ass bounce and listening to you make the most delicious noises as he fucked you hard from behind.
โYou want me to cum?โ he whined to your picture. โWanna see how hard you make me cum, baby?โ
He moved his hand faster, fucking his fist. The wet noise of his hand on his cock filled the room, along with Eddieโs keening moans and shaky breaths. He was so so close, just a little longer-
His favorite image of you flashed in his mind. You, in your cheer uniform, no panties, legs spread wide on his bed. Perfect pussy on display all for him. And Eddie, worshipping your body the way you deserved.
With one last whimper of your name, Eddie flicked his wrist one, two, three more times before he let out a choked moan, his cum splattering all over his fist and stomach. He worked himself through it, cumming more than he had last time he did this - he had edged himself for so long this time and it paid off - stroking his cock until his body jolted with the aftershocks and he couldnโt take it anymore.
He laid there, chest heaving as he attempted to calm his racing heart. He finally removed his hand from his softening cock, reaching for an old t-shirt on the floor to clean himself up. He wiped the cum off his hand and the rest of his body. Fuck, there wasโฆa lot.
He imagined fucking it all inside of you instead, seeing it leaking out when he pulled out of you.
His cock gave a weak twitch.
He tucked himself back away in his boxers and pajama pants. The yearbook still lay open on the bed next to him. He glanced over, seeing your smiling face staring back at him. He closed the book.
Then, like clockwork, the post-nut clarity kicked in and the shame crept through his veins. He covered his face with his hands, wondering what the fuck was wrong with him.
Not only was he a total fucking creep - god, the way you, Carol, and Tina would laugh at him if you knew. And not only did you exist in a whole different world - you were astronomically popular - you were also completely unattainable.
And Jasonโs twin sister.
Jason Carver, who hated Eddie and tormented him every chance he got. The blonde basketball team captain, King of Hawkins - well, next to Steve, at least. Heโd always been popular, but ask anyone - the King title was always Steveโs first.
Not that Eddie gave a fuck about any of that high school hierarchy bullshit anyway.
This was a routine for Eddie. Watch you at school all day, get to interact with you if heโs lucky. Come home, daydream about you, get so hard he canโt stand it. Pull out your picture and jerk off while thinking about you, cum so hard he canโt think - then the guilt, the remorse.
And, fuck, heโd have to face you tomorrow. You, Carol, and Tina always bought from him every other Friday. Heโd have to look you in the eyes, knowing what he just did.
Well, it wasnโt the first time.
Eddie had been obsessed with you since the beginning of time. He had been the grade above you until this year, but of course he knew you - everyone knew you. You were easily the single most popular girl at Hawkins and always had been.
You werenโt so bad. A little stuck up, maybe. Not like Jason, not a bully. You smiled and laughed when he flirted with you or bowed to you in the cafeteria. But you definitely thought he was a freak just like everyone else, and Eddie knew there was no reality where he had a chance with you.
So he did this.
Eddie got up from the bed, tossing the yearbook into the drawer, to be forgotten - or just pretend it doesnโt exist - until next time. Fuck. God, he really was a creep, wasnโt he?
โDonโt look at me like that,โ he muttered to his guitar, his sweetheart, hanging on the wall - he always felt like the beloved instrument was a sentient thing, now silently judging him.
He walked out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom, feeling like he needed a shower to wash away the dirty feeling clinging to his skin. He turned the water on, finding the perfect temperature before shedding his clothes and stepping in.
The water did help, soothing not only his body but his mind. That is, until the image of you in there with him flashed into his brain, wet, gripping his cock before bending over for him-
Fuck.
โOh, fuck, Steve!โ
โYeah,โ Steve panted in your ear, fucking you hard and fast from behind. You were pressed against the wall of the locker room, cheer top rucked up to expose your tits, hard nipples pressed against the cold wall. Steve was pressed against your back, fucking into you frantically. โFuck, take it. God, youโre such a fucking slut.โ
You whimpered - you always liked when Steve degraded you a little. He wrapped his large hand around your neck, pulling your back flush against him as the room was filled with the sound of his hips slamming into yours, his balls slapping against your ass. He squeezed, cutting off your airflow. Your eyes rolled back.
โCanโt believe you let me do this,โ he grunted into your ear, a smirk on his lips. He squeezed your neck harder. Fuck, he was gonna leave bruises again. Youโd have to explain that to Jason and your parents.
His other hand left your hip and wound around your body, pressing two fingers against your clit, making your knees go weak. Steve was holding you up as he fucked you and started rubbing circles on your throbbing clit.
โMake a fucking mess on my cock, baby,โ he whispered in your ear. โLet me feel how hard you can cum for me. Fuck, I can feel you clenching around me- shit, Iโm not gonna last much longer-โ
You were getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen. But then your orgasm hit, your vision going white as you came around him, his cock hitting that bundle of nerves and prolonging it until you were so far gone you had no idea what was happening anymore.
Steve let go of your neck and you fell forward, landing on your hands against the wall. He grabbedย onto your hips, slamming you back on his cock as he teetered right on the edge. Finally, he drew in a gasp, groaning loud as he snapped his cock in one more time and came inside you, thrusting shallowly.
He rode out his high deep in your pussy, groaning like he didnโt give a fuck if anyone heard. He kept a bruising grip on your hips until he was completely done - then he let you go, letting you fall forward against the locker room wall.
You spun around, shoving him hard in the chest. โMotherfucker, you werenโt supposed to finish inside!โ
โRelax, Iโve got Plan B money.โ He slapped your ass, grinning like an asshole. โBesides, you know I always cum inside you.โ
You rolled your eyes, fixing your uniform and hair. You looked in the mirror, seeing your lipstick smudged - you looked back at Steve, seeing the traces of it on his neck and shirt. You werenโt gonna tell him.
You pulled your lipstick tube out of your bag and fixed your makeup while Steve pulled his jeans up and tucked his dick away. He looked at you again. โYou coming to my party tonight?โ
โUm, yeah,โ you said - as if you ever missed a party. โWeโre picking up the weed after school, donโt worry about it.โ
โCool,โ he smirked. His eyes dropped down to your ass again before going back to your face. โYouโre gonna make Munson cream his pants. You know how he feels about the uniform.โ
You rolled your eyes, even though you knew Steve was right. There was a reason they sent you to pick up from Eddie every time.
โI feel bad,โ you said. You put the top back on your lipstick, smacking your lips together. โHeโs a nice guy.โ
โMunson?โ Steve snorted. โDudeโs a-โ
โA freak, yeah I know.โ
โWell, donโt feel bad for him,โ Steve said. He fixed his hair in the mirror, somehow without noticing the kiss prints and hickies on his neck. โWe get a discount, he gets to talk to you and look up your skirt a little. Itโs a win-win situation.โ
You frowned. You werenโt so sure you felt good about it, but you didnโt push it. You knew the friend group relied on you for this - itโs not like any of you were hurting for money, but still.
โYouโre just using what you were blessed with, baby,โ he winked. โItโs not like you have to fuck him.โ
The idea of that was so outlandish it nearly made you laugh. โYeah. No.โ
โJust make sure you lay it on thick. Let him think heโs got a shot,โ Steve snorted. His hand slid up your skirt, grabbing your ass tightly in his hand. โEveryone knows all this belongs to me, anyway.โ
โSteve, we are not together,โ you reminded him.
โSo?โ He kissed your neck, a light hand shaped bruise starting to bloom there. โStill mine.โ
It wasnโt, but you let him believe what he wanted. Steve finally stepped away from you, picking up his backpack from the floor against the wall. โIโm gonna sneak out before anyone notices we were in here together. Iโll see you.โ
โSee ya.โ
You continued fussing with your hair for a few minutes after you heard the locker room door slam shut, giving Steve the chance to get far. When you felt like the coast was clear, you grabbed your own bag and slipped out.
โWhat were you doing in the menโs locker room?โ
You froze, resisting the urge to let out a deep sigh. You turned around to see your twin brother looking at you, duffel bag over his shoulder as he was about to enter the room youโd just left.
โNothing,โ you said. โSteve forgot something and asked me to run and get it.โ
Jason didnโt believe you for a second. โDo you always have to be such a slut?โ he hissed, so quiet for only you to hear, even though the hallway was deserted.
You rolled your eyes. โI wasnโt doing anything.โ
โYou think I believe that?โ he scoffed. โI know you. You know Steve talks, right? Do you know how fucking embarrassing that is? That everyone knows how my sister puts out?โ
You reeled back, jaw dropping. โJason Michael Carver.โ
โOh, do not full name me-โ
โYou just called me a slut!โ You threw your arms up in the air. โYouโre such a saint. Iโm sure you and Chrissy have never done anything.โ
โIf we do, itโs in private,โ he spat. โBecause Chrissy has respect for herself, unlike you.โ
โWhatever.โ You pushed past Jasonโs shoulder, flipping him off over your shoulder as you walked to class. โAsshole.โ
You had English next - with Eddie. You walked into the classroom, the metalhead looking up at you through his frizzy bangs from his seat in the back. He nodded at you and you gave him a (slightly flirtatious) smile before sliding into your seat next to Carol.
โWhere were you?โ Carol whispered, chewing her bubblegum.
Your cheeks heated. โWith Steve.โ
She rolled her eyes. โI could have guessed that.โ She leaned over the aisle, getting closer to you. โWhere?โ
You almost didnโt want to tell her. โMenโs locker room.โ
Her eyes went wide before she gave you a look. โGirl.โ
You shrugged, heat rushing to your cheeks even more. โNo one saw us.โ As the memory came back to you, you winced. โWell, Jason kind of caught me coming out and put it together.โ
Carol stifled her giggle with her hand. โOh my god. I bet he was pissed.โ
You nodded, widening your eyes. โSo pissed.โ You pulled your notebook out, flipping to a clean page. โGood thing I donโt give a fuck if Jasonโs mad.โ
โHeโs gonna kick Steveโs ass one of these days,โ Carol said, turning back to her own book. โIf I donโt do it first.โ
Your friends werenโt Steveโs biggest fans either. They thought Steve treated you like shit, which, they werenโt really wrong. It was worse when you and Steve actually were together. He hadnโt been a good boyfriend at all. Now, they were just disappointed you kept sleeping with him.
โHe just doesnโt want to be embarrassed,โ you mumbled. โHe doesnโt actually care about me.โ
โI think thatโs enough to get Steveโs ass beat.โ
While you talked to Carol, Eddie stared holes into the back of your head. Well, not just your head, definitely not. How could he not also appreciate your tits? Or your long, smooth legs in your cheer skirt? God, he loved that skirt. He loved game days, and it didnโt have a thing to do with throwing balls into laundry baskets.
Eddie could never pay attention in his classes with you. He was going to end up failing senior year yet again at this rate. It was worth it, he thought, to get to look at you.
At the end of class, he pretended to be busy putting his stuff away until you and Carol stood. Like every day, he timed it just right, so he was leaving the classroom right behind you. Fuck, how did the school let the cheer uniforms have such tiny skirts? He could almost see the edge of your panties when you walked. None of the other girls on the team wore the skirt like you did, though - no one looked as good in it as you.
Eddie hardly even noticed other girls. He didnโt care about anyone else. It was only you, had always only ever been you. Which was stupid, because he might as well have been dreaming about fucking Phoebe Cates or Shauna Grant. God, you were hotter than Phoebe Cates and Shauna Grant.
He hardly even attempted to hide his staring anymore. He followed as far as he could, dreaming of getting a piece of you-
โEarth to Eddie,โ Gareth said, shoving Eddie hard in the shoulder. โGod, snap out of it, man.โ
Eddie jumped, looking at Gareth - he quickly snapped his head back in your direction, but heโd already lost you in the crowd. Great. He turned back to Gareth with a scowl on his face.
โWhat, man?โ he snapped.
โOh, come on. You canโt seriously be mad I interrupted you staring at Miss Queen of Hawkinsโ ass.โ
โYou know what?โ Eddie said, stopping at his locker. โYeah, I am. I was enjoying the view.โ
โYeah. I know.โ Gareth rolled his eyes. โYouโd think one day youโd stop chasing that pipe dream.โ
โIโm not chasing a dream,โ Eddie grumbled. โYou think I donโt know perfectly well I have no chance with her? Iโm not delusional.โ
โSometimes I wonder.โ Gareth leaned against the lockers, watching Eddie shove his books in his own disaster of a locker. โWhy donโt you try to be interested in someone else? That girl at The Hideout last week was flirting with you, I swear-โ
โI just wasnโt interested,โ Eddie shrugged. โShe wasnโt my type.โ
โYeah, because your type is the fairer Carver twin.โ Gareth looked at Eddie, like he had him all figured out. It pissed Eddie off. โYouโre going to be a virgin forever at this rate.โ
โYouโre a virgin, too!โ Eddie hissed, trying to not alert the entire Hawkins student body to the embarrassing truth about both of them. โSo donโt act like youโve got shit figured out, or even know the first thing about women.โ
โYouโre being testy because I interrupted your ass-staring time. Got it, wonโt do it again.โ Gareth pushed off the lockers. โYou cool off, and Iโll see you in the cafeteria.โ
Eddie grabbed his metal lunchbox and slammed his locker shut. He pushed his wild curls out of his face as he walked to the cafeteria. Sure enough, you were already in there, sitting at the middle table with your friend group, Hawkins royalty.
He tried his best not to stare while he walked to the Hellfire table. He was the last one there - Mike and Dustin worked on their character sheets, while Gareth, Jeff, and Grant were laughing loudly about something. Eddie took his seat at the head of the table. He flipped his lunchbox open, taking out the sandwich sitting amongst the weed, rolling paper, and cigarettes.
โAbout time you made it in here,โ Jeff said, watching Eddie take a bite of his ham sandwich. Eddie looked irritated, chewing his food and avoiding eye contact with anyone.
โHe was too busy staring at you-know-who,โ Gareth snorted.
โBig surprise,โ Grant muttered.
โWho?โ Dustin asked. โWho are you talking about?โ
Gareth happily got the first syllable of your name out before Eddie cut him off. โDude, shut the fuck up.โ
But he had said enough for the boys to put the pieces together. โCarver?โ Mike asked. โJasonโs sister?โ
โOh, dude,โ Dustin said.
โThanks, Gare,โ Eddie sighed, rubbing his hands over his face.
โOh yeah,โ Gareth said, ignoring Eddie. โHeโs been obsessed with her for as long as I can remember. You should see when they have class together. Oh, and todayโs his favorite day, because every other Friday she-โ
โGareth, shut up!โ Eddie snapped. โFuck, come on, man.โ
โWell, thatโs just a waste of time,โ Dustin said, as if he were surprised his DM would be obsessed with you. You werenโt exactly what heโd imagine to be Eddieโs type - although, you were kind of everybodyโs type.
โOh, he knows,โ Gareth said. โHeโs just that whipped. Totally wrapped around her perfectly manicured finger. And she barely even knows who he is.โ
โShe knows who I am,โ Eddie grumbled.
โOnly because you sell her and her friends drugs,โ Jeff commented.
Eddie didnโt say anything. He wasnโt so sure Jeff was wrong, although he didnโt want to admit it to himself. He knew he didnโt have a chance in hell with you, sure, but you were friendly at least, right?
He was grateful when the conversation eventually moved back to DND. They had a big campaign tonight, but his head just wasnโt in it - heโd be seeing you first and that was all he could think about.
He watched you from across the cafeteria - the way youโd cover your mouth when you laughed at something one of your idiot friends said, the beautiful smile that stayed on your face all the time - the way that asshole Harrington put his arm around you. He was pretty sure you werenโt even together anymore - yes, he kept up with things like that.
Only when it came to you, though.
He tried to avert his eyes. He looked down at the sandwich he was nibbling on, trying to focus on the DND conversation happening around him.
And he counted down the hours until 3:30.
Eddie sat at the picnic table in the clearing of the woods behind the school. His head rested on his hand, the fingers of his other hand tapping against the metal of his lunchbox. He was early - maybe a little too eager.
The sound of giggles from amongst the trees made him snap his head up, watching. His heart beat faster, pounding against the wall of his chest. His stomach was in knots.
The sound of footsteps on the leaves. More giggling, a conversation too low for Eddie to properly hear it. Then, finally - you, Carol, and Tina walked out of the tree line, not even looking in his direction yet. He sat up straighter, adjusted his curls, then decided to stand. He was nervous - he always got flustered.
โWell well, good afternoon, ladies,โ Eddie greeted, putting on his usual confident smile and sauntering around the table. โWhat can I do you for today?โ
The three of you looked at him. Carol and Tina scrunched their noses up, looking at him like he was less than human, but he didnโt even notice. He was too busy looking at the way your lips spread into a smile, the way the sun caught your eyes and made them sparkle.
โHey, Eddie,โ you said, and his stomach did flips at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. โJust the usual.โ
He bowed his head. โYou got it. Anything for the prettiest girl in Hawkins.โ He flipped open his lunchbox with a flourish, pulling out the ounce of weed heโd already weighed and bagged in preparation of this meeting.
You giggled, hand fiddling with your gold cross necklace. Eddieโs eyes dropped down with the motion, letting them linger on your tits. You didnโt miss it.
โHowโs the band?โ you asked, crossing one foot in front of the other.
โOh, you know, making it big,โ Eddie said, dangling the baggie from his hand. โAll five of our fans are loving our new stuff.โ
You laughed again, walking around to the table. Carol and Tina lingered off to the side while you hopped up - tits bouncing in your top - onto the picnic table, sitting on the edge, legs swinging. Eddie swallowed hard.
โMaybe Iโll have to come see you sometime,โ you said. You subtly - intentionally - let your legs fall open a little, allowing Eddie the slightest glimpse of your panties. You had worn your cutest pink set just for him.
Eddieโs heart banged even harder against his chest, first at your words and then as his eyes dropped down. Fuck. He forgot to respond at first, brain short circuiting at the sight - oblivious to Carol and Tina laughing behind him.
โOh, uh, yeah, definitely,โ he said once heโd remembered it was his turn to speak. โI, uhโฆyeah. At The Hideout, Tuesday nights. You should definitely come.โ
โIโll keep that in mind.โ You tilted your head with a smile - crossing your legs. Show over. Just a tease. โHow much do we owe you?โ
โ20 for the ounce?โ he offered, finally meeting your eyes again. โThatโs 50% off. Youโre robbing me blind, sweetheart.โ
โAw, Eddie,โ you cooed, hopping off the table. โYouโre so sweet. What would we do without you?โ
Eddie was blushing hard, feeling more flustered than he usually did - you usually werenโt this flirty. โI, uh- I donโt- I mean yeah, of course, itโs no problem. Not for you, princess.โ
You handed out the 20 dollar bill while Eddie offered up the baggie of weed. Your fingers brushed together - yours were so soft, so smooth, and you smelled like strawberries - and he felt electricity all the way up his arm. He almost jolted away from you, but kept his composure somehow.
โThank you, Eddie,โ you purred, and the sound of you saying his name again had his cock throbbing in his pants. โI appreciate it.โ
โOf course,โ he said, lost in your eyes. You were standing so close he couldnโt think straight. โAny time. Seriously, just, uhโฆsay the word.โ
โI will.โ Fuck, were you flirting? You handed the weed off to Carol, who stuffed it in her purse. โYou should come to a game sometime.โ
Eddie couldnโt even think straight. It took him an embarrassingly long time to respond. โOh, yeah, definitely. I-I love basketball. I loveโฆโ he mimed cheerleading, or at least the most basic pom-pom waving kind. โWhat you do is cool.โ
You giggled again. โCool. Iโll see you there one of these days, right?โ
โOh, yeah, for sure,โ Eddie nodded enthusiastically. โYeah. Of course.โ He stuffed the 20 in his pocket, wondering if he should cancel Hellfire tonight to watch you cheer. He thought Gareth, Jeff, and Grant might actually kill him.
โGood. Iโve got to get ready for the game, butโฆโ You stepped closer to him, like right up against him. He gulped. โThank you, Eddie. Youโre always so sweet.โ
You stood on your toes in your perfect white sneakers and kissed him on the cheek.
Eddie was frozen. He didnโt know what to do. He was helpless as he watched the three of you leave, linking arms and giggling to each other. Eddie felt like heโd just run a few miles - his heart was racing, breathing ragged. He collapsed onto the bench of the picnic table.
And tried to think of how to get out of Hellfire tonight.
You pulled your hair up into a high pony, tightening the green and yellow bow. You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time - then reached for your makeup bag, applying more concealer over the bruise attempting to show through your foundation.
โOh my god, is that a handprint?โ Chrissy asked, completely scandalized, her eyes wide. โWho did that to you?โ
You glanced over at her briefly - Chrissy was a sweet girl, but she was also very naive. โNo, itโs nothing. Just, uhโฆwore my seatbelt too tight.โ
The excuse didnโt even make any sense, but Chrissy just looked at you strangely before dropping the subject. You wanted to tell her to relax, tell her that Steve just likes it rough, but you didnโt think that would make her feel much better.
You finished up with your makeup, then stuffed your bag into your locker along with your change of clothes. With one last adjustment of your uniform, you left the locker room with your team, ready to cheer your heart out.
On the other side of the school, Eddie took his throne for Hellfire. The guys sat around the table, already set up for the campaign. The room was filled with excited chatter - the guys were itching to see what Eddie had in store for them, and Eddie was ready to put his friendsโ characters through it.
As the game went on, though, Eddie found himself distracted. He couldnโt stop thinking about you, how you were here in the school with him, doing your little flips and jumps and routines. He could be watching that right now, seeing beneath your skirt every time you did a toe touch.
He even stumbled over his words a few times, dropping character when he thought too hard about that thing you do where you lift your leg high in the air. The guys definitely noticed he was off his game, and he was sure they knew why.
When Hellfire ended, the game was still going on, just nearing the end. While all his friends left the school together, Eddie lingered behind with the excuse of cleaning up the drama room.
It only took him a few minutes to put all his DND stuff away. When he was done, backpack over his shoulder, he left the room - and followed the sound of cheering, as if succumbing to the call of a siren.
He opened the gym door just a little, peeking inside. Hawkins was in the lead, by a lot. He didnโt really care about that. What he cared about was the cheerleading captain, currently being tossed high in the air by your teammates. Your skirt flew up as you flipped in the air, giving him the perfect view of your even more perfect ass, before you landed perfectly in the arms of the other girls.
He loved watching you cheer. There was something so hot about it - he wanted to choose to believe it wasnโt just the skirt or your ass. He was impressed by the skill, the athleticism, impressed with you. He willed you to see him, give him a smile and a cute little wave, but of course you had no idea he was there. When you did another jump, he looked down between your legs - seeing the black panties you wore underneath. His cock started to fill out, and-
Wait.
You had been wearing pink panties before. He remembered because heโd committed it to memory. That means you changed, which means - your clothes were in the locker room.
The idea struck Eddie hard, like a ball of lightning. Then, the shame at even thinking it. Butโฆ
He let the gym door fall closed as he turned around and began speed walking down the hallway. His heart was racing - was he really about to do this? This was crossing a line he hadnโt crossed before. He felt a little disgusted at himself, butโฆalso excited. This was thrilling.
He rounded the corner and came face to face with the door to the womenโs locker room. He looked around - the hallway was completely deserted. No one would be coming around until the game was over. He had a few minutes.
He pushed the door open and slid inside.
The womenโs locker room was much different than the menโs. For one thing, it didnโt smell like sweat and gym socks. The smell was intoxicating, a mix of fruity and floral scents. He could even make out your signature perfume in the sensory overload - and it made his cock twitch.
It wasnโt hard to find your locker. Everyoneโs locker had their initials on it for one, but yours was also covered with photos. You with Carol and Tina, you with Heather Holloway, you with the cheer team - you and Steve. The latter made his stomach clench.
He opened the locker, pleased to find it unlocked. Inside, you had all kinds of stuff - clothes, shower stuff, body care, lotions and perfumes and a hairbrush. He looked at it all, feeling a familiar kind of longing. He picked up the shampoo and conditioner bottles, then the lotions, giving them all a smell and committing them to memory. One of the lotions had seen much more use than the others - he smelled that one, and groaned. That was your signature scent.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he shoved the lotion bottle in his backpack.
He looked through your locker some more. There were an absurd amount of notes, folded in perfect little squares and kept in a pencil box. Just notes passed back and forth with your friends, some with Steve - Meet me in the locker room. Come over tonight, my parents arenโt home. Quickie before practice? Eddie resisted the urge to throw those away.
A pink duffel bag sat on the bottom shelf. Eddie took it, unzipping it - score.
Your clothes were inside - with those pretty pink panties right on top. Slowly, tentatively, as if he might talk some sense into himself, he reached for the panties. They were soft, baby pink with a bow in the front and lace around the hem. He held them like he couldnโt believe they were real.
Then he brought them to his nose, inhaling deeply.
Fuck. Eddie couldnโt help it - he moaned, loud. He was painfully hard in his jeans now, and he dropped his free hand, palming himself over the denim.
Somewhere, a door slammed.
He snapped out of it. Panic struck into his chest at the sound, remembering where he was and what he was doing. He quickly shoved the panties into his pocket, closing your bag and putting everything back in the locker.
He walked to the door in quick strides of his long legs. Peeking out the door to make sure no one was around first, he slipped out of the locker room and started nearly running to the exit of the school, headed for his van.
He couldnโt wait to get home.
You rolled up to Steveโs house with Jason and Chrissy. You felt like the third wheel, sitting in the backseat - but it made more sense than having Carol come pick you up when your brother was going anyway.
You had changed out of your uniform after the game, searching your closet for a good 30 minutes before coming up with a large brown sweater and a tiny little black skirt.ย
Inside the house, the music was pumping so loud the walls were shaking. The large downstairs was packed full of people, talking, drinking, dancing. You left Jason and Chrissy immediately, pushing through to head straight for the kitchen.
You grinned at your best friends, who practically squealed when they saw you even though youโd only been apart for about an hour. Carol, Tina, and Heather pulled you into their orbit - one of them. They scooped you a cup full of spiked punch. You sipped it - fuck, Steve always made his punch way too fucking strong.
โYeah, itโs a lot,โ Heather laughed as you made a face, the alcohol burning on the way down.
โSteveโs looking for you, by the way,โ Tina said, giving you a smirk. โSaid when I see you to tell you to meet him out back.โ
You rolled your eyes. Of course he was. But for some reason, you could never resist Steve. Itโs not even that you loved him, or had particularly strong feelings for himโฆhe just always got what he wanted.
โI think I need to be a little more drunk first.โ You downed your first drink - to the shocked expressions of your friends - and immediately poured yourself another.
โBe careful,โ Carol whispered against your ear, leaning close to you so you could hear her over the music. โDonโt get so drunk you let him take advantage of you again.โ
Your heart clenched - you knew Carol cared about you. Sometimes you forgot just how Steve treated you, and that others noticed. Even Jason had told you to stop dating Steve - that he was no good for you. But you always had to do the opposite of whatever Jason said - it was like a personal challenge.
You put it off for a while, laughing with your friends as you finished a couple cups of punch. You knew Steve would be mad if you just ignored him, so you finished off your third drink, refilled your cup, then said goodbye to your friends and headed for the backyard.
It wasnโt hard to find Steve. He was always surrounded by a group of adoring people, hanging on to every word he said. Tonight was no different. King Steve held court off to the side of the pool, flashing that charming smile to the girls giggling at every word he said. You rolled your eyes.
As you stomped over, you caught the attention of the group. They parted for you as if out of a deep respect, the guys looking at you wide eyed while the girls gave you dirty looks with whispers of I thought they broke up?. Steve, oblivious - or apathetic - to it all, curled his lips into a pleased grin.
โAbout time,โ he said, holding an arm out for you. You took your place under it. โI was beginning to think youโd stood me up.โ
โNever,โ you said - an honest answer. You noticed he still had obvious hickies in his neck, but heโd cleaned off the lipstick stains in the shower after the game.
Steve squeezed your shoulder. He leaned over and brushed his lips against your ear. โWanna go upstairs with me, baby?โ
Your skin tingled, like static electricity in your bloodstream. You were a little unsteady on your feet, letting Steve hold you up. โOkay.โ
Steve led you upstairs, letting you lean on him as he helped you. You could tell he was a little drunk, too - but you had so much to drink so fast, you were in slightly worse shape.
He opened the door to his bedroom and you let yourself into the familiar space, flopping down on his bed. You were exhausted from the day - school, cheering, now this. You were ready to curl up and go to sleep.
Steve crawled onto the bed next to you. His hand rested on your hip as he leaned down and kissed you, slowly at first, then hungrier. He parted your lips, licking into your mouth. His hips were rutting against you, hard cock rubbing against your bare thigh.
โGod, I want you,โ he breathed, moving on top of you. He pressed his hips against your core, aching dick throbbing as he let out a shuddering, needy breath.
โWant you too, Stevie,โ you mumbled. His familiar body on top of you had you coming alive, soaking your panties.
He sat up and pulled his shirt off quickly, then yours. He urgently worked his belt open, chest heaving as he looked down at you. You traced your hand through his chest hair, feeling the firm muscles of his chest and abdomen. They twitched beneath your touch.
With his jeans and boxers shoved down to his thighs, his hard cock bobbing at his lower stomach, he reached beneath your skirt to pull your panties off.
โFuck,โ he muttered as he leaned forward, mouthing at your tits. โShit, youโre so hot. So fucking hot, baby.โ He rocked his hips forward, cock tracing through your folds. He groaned at the feeling of your wetness, the way it coated his shaft as he thrusted back and forth.
He hooked his arms under your thighs, pushing them up against your chest. He nudged his thick cockhead against your entrance, pushing just barely inside. You whined at the stretch - although you were used to taking Steveโs dick by now.
He fucked his cock in further, adding another inch with every thrust. You arched your back, crying out at the pressure of him stretching you. Steve was actually huge - heโd had plenty of experiences with girls where he couldnโt even get it in - so it could be uncomfortable, but god, once you got used to it? It was incredible.
โAlmost in, baby,โ he mumbled soothing words against your cheek. โAlmost in you, just a little bit more. You can take it, you always do.โ
He was right - you always did.
You let out a shuddering breath as Steve pushed the remaining few inches into you with a groan. His fists tightened in the sheets, then he was pulling back and pounding into you.
You whined, pulling on Steveโs hair while he fucked into you. He wrapped his arms around your body, hugging you close to him and hiding his face in your neck while he bucked his hips.
โSo, so good, baby,โ he praised, voice muffled against your skin. โMaking me feel so good, taking this dick like that. God youโre such a slut, you always take it-โ
He cut himself off with a loud moan as you tightened around him, shutting him up. As annoying as he could be, his - glorious - cock was fucking you just right, pressing against your bundle of nerves with every balls-deep thrust.
You could feel the coil tightening, your spine prickling with electricity. Oh fuck, you suddenly remembered why you kept sleeping with Steve.
You were so close, so close-
โFuck- shit, Iโm cumming,โ Steve cried, and before you could beg him no, no, just a little longer, he was grabbing onto your thigh, squeezing as he grunted with his release, cum coating your velvety walls.
You had to say, you were disappointed but not surprised. Steve only cared if you came about half the time, and it looked like tonight was not one of those lucky nights.
โAre you serious?โ you said, pushing his sweaty body off of you. He rolled onto the mattress next to you, running his hands through his slightly wet hair.
โIโm sorry, baby. You just felt so good.โ Steve winked and smirked at you, looking like he wasnโt all that sorry at all.
You rolled your eyes, sitting up and reaching for your clothes. You pulled your panties and shirt back on, tossing Steve his shirt. He was pulling his jeans and boxers back up, but seemed in no hurry to replace his shirt and get back to the party.
โYouโre a dick,โ you mumbled. You felt angry - you felt used. Steve always made you feel used.
โDonโt be like that, baby,โ he cooed, but he was still smiling like he found the whole situation funny. โYou know how I feel about you. You know youโre my favorite girl.โ
You werenโt having it. โWhereโs the Plan B money?โ
Steve frowned. โMy walletโs on the desk.โ
You walked over to the desk sitting against the wall, seeing Steveโs expensive leather wallet laying on top. You flipped it open and plucked out the bills to cover the emergency contraceptive.
โBaby, seriously. Donโt be like this.โ Steve was giving minimal effort, but he beckoned you back to the bed, as if you would listen to whatever he asked.
You threw open his bedroom door. A few people in the hallway turned to look, seeing you leaving, disheveled with a shirtless Steve on the bed - and immediately started whispering. You didnโt care right now.
You slammed Steveโs door behind you, pushing past the party goers and going back downstairs. Maybe Jason would take you home, or even Carol. Someone would, and you were going to ask everyone until you got a ride.
All you knew is you couldnโt stand to be at this party for another second.
Eddie had rushed home, speeding even faster than he usually did. His heart wouldnโt stop pounding - he felt like he had a big, incredible secret. The panties sitting in his pocket might as well have weighed 50 pounds. He couldnโt stop thinking about them and what heโd done.
He was relieved to see Wayne gone when he got home. He didnโt want to be interrupted.
He locked up behind himself before heading straight for his room - fuck eating, he couldnโt wait another second. He was already half hard as he pulled his shirt off, then reached for the joint heโd rolled earlier.
Sparking up the joint, he placed the roll between his lips, taking a deep inhale. The smoke traveled down into his lungs, filling his body with a deep contentment.
He laid on the bed with his joint still propped in his mouth. He undid his belt and shoved his jeans and boxers down in record time - he was already so worked up, and the weed was only going to make his orgasm even better.
Eddie pulled out the lotion and your panties - and he paused. Was he really going to do this? This was a level of creep he hadnโt reached yet. He could go back - he could sneak your stuff back in your locker Monday - hell, he could even throw them away and pretend this never happened.
His cock was throbbing, already fully hard as he held the soft panties in his hand. He clenched and unclenched his fist around them, fighting with himself - could he forgive himself for this?
He brought the panties up to his nose and inhaled. His cock twitched, and he couldnโt help it - he wrapped his hand around himself, twisting his hand around his shaft as he breathed in the smell of you.
And fuck, you smelled just as good as he imagined. Better, even. He imagined his face was buried in your pussy, the real thing - fuck, he would do anything. He wouldnโt be satisfied until he made you cum harder than you ever had. Itโs only what you deserved.
Eddie rubbed the panties against his aching cock, jolting from the sensation of the rough lace against his sensitive dick. He let out a little huff of smoke - his heart was beating out of his chest - and wrapped the panties around his shaft. Slowly, he stroked his cock with them, breathing shakily.
The joint slipped from his lips and fell on the bed. โShit,โ he cursed, picking it up and dropping it in his ashtray. He was already plenty high, and all he wanted now was to get off to the thought of you.ย
He reached into his bedside table and pulled out the yearbook. It was a surprise the pages werenโt stuck together at this rate. He flipped straight to the dog eared page, letting out a groan at the sight of you.
โYouโre so beautiful, baby,โ he whispered to your picture as he stroked himself faster. โFuck. Did you wear these just for me today? Did you know how fucking crazy it would drive me?โ
When the material of the panties started to get uncomfortable rubbing against his cock - too sensitive - he put the book down and grabbed your bottle of lotion. He closed his eyes as he opened the top and smelled it again - he could almost picture you were right here.
He put some in the palm of his right hand. Then, he wrapped his hand around his cock, moaning as the cool lotion coated his shaft. He could smell the scent so clearly - it made it even easier to think about you.
He picked the yearbook back up with his left hand, jerking himself faster - his hand was moving quickly with the help of the lotion. He let out a shuddering moan - fuck, it felt so good. His dick was rock hard in his hand, almost painfully so. He just got so worked up at school all day having to see you, especially when he got to talk to you, too. He always came home aching.
โYeah, baby,โ he rasped to your picture. The slick sound of his hand on his cock was filling the room - he could almost imagine it was the sound of your wet pussy, taking him deep and fast. โDโyou like when Iโm this hard for you? You wanna feel me deep inside your little cunt?โ
Eddieโs body was shaking with the intensity of his building orgasm. He looked at your ass and legs in the photo and pictured you in your uniform with no panties underneath, bouncing on his cock.
Or maybe heโd bend you in half, let you show him just how flexible you are. Heโd spread your legs wide, watching his cock disappearing into that tight cunt. His hips bucked up into his fist.
โChrist, baby,โ Eddie groaned. โYouโd be so good, I know you would. Youโd let me worship you, let me taste your pussy, get my cock inside you - oh fuck - is that what you want, baby? God, you get me so fucking worked up-โ
He was squeezing his cock with every upstroke, rubbing his thumb over the slit, tracing the vein on the underside of his shaft. It was your hand he pictured on him - smaller, softer than his own. So fucking soft, so you-
Eddie whimpered your name as if on instinct. He called out for you, throwing his head back with little โAh ah ahโs as he brought himself higher and higher. He could feel that familiar feeling creeping up his spine, making his muscles clench. He cupped his balls in his hand, massaging them for a moment before going back to his needy cock.
He repeated your name over and over. โThatโs it, thatโs it. Good girl, so good for me. So fucking beautiful. Take this big cock, sweetheart, let me fuck that pretty pussy - fuck fuck fuck-โ
His hand was moving rapidly up and down his cock now, precum leaking from the tip and mixing with your lotion. Your panties were on his chest, close enough that he could see them, bringing them to his nose to smell them. He locked eyes with your photo, imagining you were here begging for his cum, begging him to finish for you.
โYou want my cum?โ he whispered. โIโll give it to you, baby. Gonna cum so hard, all for you. โm so close, baby, just- fuck- just a little more, almost fuckinโ there-โ
His skin was tingling, body trembling, heart pounding. He twisted his hand around his cock faster, and oh god oh god-
Repeating your name like a desperate prayer, his cum shot out onto his stomach and hand, a seemingly endless amount. Fuck, he never used to cum this much before he started jerking off to you - it was like you drained everything out of him. He kept pumping his fist as he groaned, wringing out the last of his orgasm, dick pulsing in his hand as the final drops of his cum beaded at the tip, sliding down his shaft.
Eddieโs chest heaved with his breathing. He slowly removed his hand from his sticky, softening cock, looking around for something to clean up with - fuck, he might as well go get in the shower. He sighed, forcing his weary body up and off the bed. His post-nut shame was creeping in, and he needed to go wash all this away before he started really hating himself.
He threw the yearbook back in his drawer, grabbed a change of clothes, and went into the hall bathroom. He got the water started then washed his hands off in the sink, his shame disappearing down the drain. He thought briefly, again, of you, and what youโd think of him if you knew what he did.
He tried to push those thoughts away as he climbed in under the hot water. He didnโt want to think about you being upset with him - he only wanted to think of you in this shower with him, kissing your soft lips and tangling his hands in your hair.ย
Eddie was trying to be innocent for once, he swears, but then his mental image of you smirked at him and dropped to her knees, and-
Eddie Munson was so fucked.
Eddie tried to go about life normally, but it was hard knowing what heโd done - and what heโd continue to do - every night alone in his bedroom. The panties and lotion found their home in a box in his closet he only pulled out when he was desperate for you - which was often.
It was hard to look you in the eyes after that night. When he saw you again Monday morning, he had averted his gaze, stared at your ass instead. Also not entirely unusual, but he wasnโt prepared for the guilt heโd feel around you.
He watched you throughout English class. Today you were wearing jeans that hugged your body just right, a cute little striped shirt that spread tight across your tits. God, Eddie, did you always have to be such a perv? Why couldnโt he talk about how pretty your eyes were, or how you always put together the most flattering outfits? How you had the best style of any girl in school - not just boring preppy Gap bullshit, but some personality in your look?
Eddie could have gone on and on about the things he liked about you, because yes, believe it or not, it was much more than just your body that had him obsessed. Much more. You were somehow the most popular girl in Hawkins, Jason Carverโs sister, and the coolest girl heโd ever met.
He hardly even realized class had passed him by as the bell rang and everyone started to stand, gathering their things. Eddie snapped out of his daydream and grabbed his own stuff, waiting for the perfect time to leave right behind you. When you and Carol stood, he knew it was his time.
Fuck, you looked even better in those jeans than heโd realized. His mouth watered, he longed to reach out and touch you.
โI canโt believe him,โ Carol said quietly to you, and Eddie strained to hear the whispered conversation.
โI can,โ you shrugged. โHeโs always beenโฆselfish.โ
Who were you talking about?ย
โYou need to stop sleeping with him,โ Carol said. Eddieโs stomach clenched at the words - Steve. You were talking about Steve. โHeโs no good for you. And you know heโs already told Tommy and all the guys about Friday night?โ
โIโm sure he left out the part where he finished in a couple minutes and didnโt return the favor.โ
Eddie almost laughed. The idea of you sleeping with someone else always made him upset - but that was nothing compared to the anger he felt over Steve running his mouth about you to the whole school.
He lost the two of you quicker than he would have liked in the bustle of the lunchtime rush. He looked around for you, hoping to spot the top of your head somewhere, but ultimately gave up and headed for the cafeteria.
Jason, Patrick, Andy, and Chance walked down the hall in the other direction, talking to each other. Eddie attempted to pretend they didnโt exist, as usual, but as they passed each other Jason reached out, knocking Eddieโs books out of his hands.
โSorry, freak,โ Jason quipped, high fiving Patrick as the other guys laughed, still walking away.
Eddie took a deep breath, then he bent over and picked up his books. He would never understand how you and Jason were twins.
You and Carol were standing in the lunch line together when Eddie got into the cafeteria, still talking. He thought about joining the line with you - buy himself a cookie or something - but the guys were already watching him from their table. He looked at you one last time, reluctantly tearing his eyes away as he made his way to his usual seat.
โWhat, not gonna follow Carver into the lunch line to stare at her ass some more?โ Gareth teased, and Eddie hated how obvious he must have been.
โShut the fuck up,โ Eddie muttered. He flipped his lunchbox open, reaching for the bag of chips heโd packed. His fingers itched for a cigarette instead.
โI just canโt believe itโs Carver that Eddieโs obsessed with,โ Dustin said. โLikeโฆthatโs not what I imagined your type to be whatsoever.โ
Eddie shrugged. He wanted to list out all the reasons why he liked you so much, why he needed you so badly, but he knew that wouldnโt make things any better.
โYeah, it makes no sense,โ Gareth said, poking at his mac and cheese. โLike, yeah sheโs hot as hell, but sheโs also a Carver. Ms. Stuck up Queen of Hawkins.โ
โCome on Gareth, be nice,โ Jeff scolded. Then, a raised eyebrow - โbut really Eddie? Her?โ
โSheโs-โ he almost started, almost outed himself as being even more head over heels in love with you than they already knew, but recognized the bait before he did. โSheโs nice.โ
โSure,โ Grant said.
Eddie didnโt want to talk about the subject anymore. You were his, and he didnโt want to explain himself to his friends. He knew every guy at this table had been interested in you at some point or another, and he wasnโt about to reignite any old crushes.
In fact, Eddie more or less ignored his friends for the rest of lunch. The guys were coming over to his place tonight to talk the next campaign and pass a blunt around, and Eddie felt that was plenty interaction with them in one day.
After school, Eddie made a pit stop at Rickโs to pick up his supply. Rick was happy to see him, as usual, and he found himself pulled into a 30 minute conversation on government surveillance.
By the time he made it to the trailer, Jeffโs car was already sitting out front, the three of them waiting for Eddie. They climbed out as Eddie walked up the steps to unlock the front door.
โAbout time,โ Gareth complained. โWhat, did you follow Carver home to peek through her windows first?โ
โHa, ha,โ Eddie said sarcastically. He pushed the front door open and walked inside, letting his friends follow behind him.
The guys followed down the hall to Eddieโs cramped bedroom. While Eddie opened his stash box to pull out the blunt heโd rolled earlier, they found a place to sit. Then-
โEddie, are you fucking kidding?โ Gareth asked.
Eddie froze. He turned around slowly - finding Gareth standing next to the bed, holding your panties. His stomach dropped to his feet.
โUh, what are those?โ Jeff asked, brows furrowed in confusion. He leaned in for a closer look - yeah, those were definitely panties.
โAre these what I think they are?โ Gareth asked, his voice rising.
โUh- no, I mean-โ
โWhat are you talking about?โ Grant asked, confused, feeling like he was out of the loop. He didnโt connect the dots, until-ย
โYou stole her panties?โ Gareth choked out. โHow did you- Eddie, what the fuck-โ
Eddie snatched the panties from Garethโs hand quickly, tossing them into the bedside drawer for now. Gareth watched - spotting the well-loved yearbook laying inside. โDude, is that your jerk off drawer?โ
Eddieโs face was bright red. โGareth. Shut the fuck up.โ
โOh my god,โ Jeff said, looking between Eddie and Gareth. โYou are obsessed with her.โ
โThose arenโt hers!โ Eddie said quickly, frantically trying to come up with an excuse. โTheyโreโฆyou know, probably got mixed up with my clothes at the laundromat, it happens sometimes-โ
โSo you just kept some strangerโs panties?โ Gareth asked with his eyebrows raised, not believing a word out of Eddieโs mouth.
Eddie sighed. That was worse, wasnโt it? โOkay, theyโre hers. But Iโm not- I didnโt- look, they were there, and-โ
Gareth held up his hand. โI donโt want to hear any more about your obsession with Carver. Whatever illegal creepy pervert shit you did to get those, I donโt wanna know. Letโs just smoke this blunt and talk about the campaign.โ
Eddie was relieved the topic was changing, but his cheeks were still bright red, shame clinging to his skin like too-small clothes. He knew his friends thought his obsession was ridiculous. He knew it was ridiculous. But he couldnโt help himself. You were you, and you were everything.
He sparked up the blunt, took the first drag, and let his worries fade away for the night.
Your teammates lifted you into the air. This was your favorite part of cheerleading - the rush of flying. You were lifted high with a spin, straight into a cupie. You held it for a few seconds, then grabbed your foot and lifted your leg, holding it straight up as you crossed your arm in front - a perfect bow and arrow. The girls tossed you up and into a perfectly executed basket toss, catching you and sitting you safely on the ground.
โExcellent, Carver!โ Coach Mills yelled from her spot on the sidelines. โAbsolutely beautiful.โ
Your heart was pounding, adrenaline coursing through your veins, but you beamed with pride. Landing a stunt was the best feeling, every time.
You were completely oblivious to Eddie watching from the sidelines. He was leaning against the fence, eyes locked on you and only you. He didnโt watch practice often, but when he couldโฆ
God, you were so good. It wasnโt even the glimpses up your skirt he got when you did tricks that made it so enthralling - you were genuinely really good at what you did. Eddie had always imagined cheerleading as waving pom poms around on the sidelines of a basketball game, but your competition routines were on a whole other level.
He watched the rest of practice, his heart slamming against his chest every time your teammates threw you in the air. He had to admit it scared him a little - he didnโt know how you did it.
After practice, you walked up the bleachers, laughing and talking with your teammates. Eddie watched, the way you had your leg up on the seat, bending over to retie your shoe.
He rushed under the bleachers.
It didnโt hurt just to take a little peek, right? He crept underneath the metal stands, until he was right beneath where you and your friends stood. He looked up and saw directly up your skirt - your pretty light blue panties on full display.
He couldnโt tear his eyes away, locked in on the thin fabric covering your pretty pussy, the delicious curve of your ass. His jeans grew tighter, the zipper uncomfortable against his cock.
โIโm going to shower before everyone else uses all the hot water,โ your friend - Sarah? Lauren? - said, picking up her gym bag. โYou coming?โ
โYou can go ahead,โ you said. โI like waiting until everyoneโs gone. Itโs peaceful.โ
Your friend shrugged her shoulders. โSuit yourself.โ
The words youโd just said bounced around in Eddieโs head. You like waiting until everyoneโs gone. That means youโd be in the locker room, showering - alone.
He knew this was too far. He knew he was seriously crossing boundaries this time - shit, was this illegal? - but fuck, the way his cock throbbed in his jeans at the mere thought, the possibility.
He rushed back into the school. His heart was racing, pounding in his ears. He lingered around the corner in the hallway leading to the womenโs locker room. It was loud inside - he could hear the cheerleaders talking and giggling as they showered and changed.
And Eddie waited.
The entire time he waited, he questioned himself. Multiple times he almost left, talking some sense into his own brain and going home. Grabbing the yearbook and the panties and lotion and rubbing one out. But the promise of seeing moreโฆ
He waited until the girls started filing out of the locker room, not paying him any mind as he leaned against the wall pretending to read his book for English he hadnโt even started yet. He gave it a little bit after the last girls left, wanting to make sure no one was still in there but being cautious not to wait so long that you showed up before he could go in.
This had to be timed perfectly.
When he felt like the coast might be clear, he crept over to the door. He opened it just a few inches, listening carefully. He didnโt hear anything at all.
โโฆHello?โ he called, lowering his voice an octave in an attempt to not sound like himself in case someone was still in there.
He got no response. Satisfied and with adrenaline coursing through his body, he snuck inside the locker room.
It was deserted. Eddie let out a breath in relief - so far so good. He realized he hadnโt exactly planned this far - what was he supposed to do now? He looked around for a hiding space that would let him see you, and then - jackpot. An out-of-order shower stall.
He slipped inside the shower, closing the curtain tightly. He took a few deep breaths - okay, okay. Heโd come this far, he was going to follow through with it.
God? I know you never hear from me, because I donโt believe in you, but please donโt let me get caught.
He waited even more. For a while. After a while Eddie thought about just leaving - maybe you decided to shower at home? But just as he was about to give up, reaching to open the shower curtain, the locker room door slammed shut. His stomach tied in knots - you were here.
โCome on, baby.โ
Eddie froze. You werenโt alone.
โI said Iโm done!โ you exclaimed, sounding fed up. โThe party was my limit, Steve, seriously. Iโm sick of you and how you only care about yourself.โ
โBaby, please. Donโt be like that.โ
Eddie could practically hear the smirk in Harringtonโs voice. He wanted to punch the guy. He slowly, carefully, slid the curtain to the side just an inch, peeking out.
You and Steve were perfectly in his line of view, by the sinks. You were unclipping the big green bow from your high pony, Steve leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, looking at you like something to devour.
โDonโt be like what, Steve?โ
โDonโt be a fucking bitch.โ
Eddieโs jaw dropped. Did Steve really talk to you like that? He almost stepped out of the showers to defend your honor, but caught himself the second he began to lift his foot off the floor. He was powerless.
โIโm not being a bitch. Iโm just done with you.โ You sat the bow on the counter, picking up your hairbrush and beginning to comb it through your hair.
โYou know you donโt mean that.โ Steve pushed himself off the counter, sauntering over behind you. He put his hands on your hips like they belonged there. His front pressed against you from behind, and he lowered his head, whispering something in your ear that Eddie couldnโt make out.
You giggled. Was this douchebagโs bullshit really working on you? Eddie clenched his fist - he fucking hated that guy.
His eyes darted down to follow the movement - Steveโs hand was trailing up your skirt. His other arm was still wrapped around your waist, his chin on your shoulder. He was whispering something to you Eddie couldnโt hear at all, but the more he said the more you leaned back into him, hairbrush forgotten on the counter as Steveโs hands slid over your body.
Then - with little warning, surprising even Eddie, Steve gripped you hard by the hips with one hand and by the hair with the other, bending you over the counter roughly. Eddieโs eyes went wide - oh shit.
โYou wanna be a fucking brat?โ Steve asked, lifting your cheer skirt and slapping you hard on the ass. Eddie jumped as the sound rang out loudly through the room, echoing all around. But you responded to the slap with a short moan, and holy fucking shit, that was the hottest thing Eddie had ever heard in his life.
His cock throbbed, filling out in his jeans. His heart was beating so hard he could barely hear the clinking sound of Steve urgently unbuckling his belt, undoing his jeans and pushing them down just enough to free his hard cock. Eddie hated to admit it, but Steve was huge. Maybe not quite as thick as Eddie, butโฆ
He watched, practically drooling on the floor as Steve pulled your panties down, dropping them on the floor. He tried to get a good look at you - fuck, one look at your pussy and he could die a happy man. But he couldnโt quite see with Steveโs body in the way - which only pissed Eddie off more.
Steve rubbed his hands over the round of your ass - even more perfect with your panties off and skirt pushed up - like he was admiring it. Hell, he couldnโt blame him - Eddie would do the same.
โWhy donโt you show me why they call you the King, Steve,โ you taunted, pushing your ass back against his hips. Eddieโs breath hitched.
Steve hissed at the contact against his cock, then chuckled, slapping your ass one more time. โOh, baby. Iโll have you screaming my name before you know what fuckinโ hit you.โ
Steve dragged his cock through your folds, and Eddie tried to get a better look. You were a little too far away to see, too far to make out details - it frustrated him. But then Steve pushed inside of you and you whined, dropping your head forward, and Eddieโs cock twitched.
He was fully hard. As Steve pulled his hips back and began fucking into you, making you whine and moan, Eddie palmed himself over his jeans. He ignored Steve, picturing himself in his place. That only made his cock ache more, precum leaking from his tip and soaking his boxers.
He had to do something. You were right there, getting fucked, and Eddie was here to watch it.ย
He unbuckled his belt and slid his zipper down as slowly as possible, trying not to make a single noise. His body was buzzing with anxiety and excitement. When he got them open without alerting either of you, he reached into his boxers and started stroking himself, his rings cool against his hot skin.
Fuck. His eyes locked on where you and Steve were joined, where Steve was bucking his hips desperately, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust. He pictured his own cock disappearing inside of your pussy, how warm and wet it would feel, how you would cry and moan for him instead.
He didnโt mean to - but Eddie moaned.
His eyes went wide, hand freezing its movements. He watched you and Steve, utterly frozen in place, his blood cold.
But neither of you noticed. Steve was grabbing your ponytail now, pulling it hard so you were forced to look into the mirror at him fucking you.
โYou like that?โ Steve huffed. โYou like watching yourself get fucked?โ
Oh god.
โYes,โ you moaned, practically crying out as Steve rutted his cock into you at a brutal pace. โI love watching you fuck me.โ
Oh god, oh god.
Eddie pulled his cock out and squeezed it, precum dripping from his slit. He rubbed his thumb through it, spreading it down his shaft. He was flicking his wrist quickly, his breath coming out in little huffs.ย
The pretty little noises coming from your mouth were making him ache like he never had. When he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine he was the one fucking you. He closed them for a minute, listening to your moans and gasps and whines, picturing you wrapped tight around him while he buried himself in you, making you feel so good.
โEddie, Eddie, Eddie!โ you would cry instead.
Why donโt you let me show you why they call me the freak?
He opened his eyes again in time to see Steve pull you up by your hair, pulling your back flush against his chest while his other hand gripped onto your left hip. Steve roughly pulled up your cheer top and sports bra, and - oh fuck, those were your actual tits.
Eddie whimpered, his hips bucking into his fist uncontrollably. He planted his hand on the shower wall for support, twisting his hand around his cock faster and faster.
Steve ran his hand over your tits and down your body, until he reached that pretty pussy Eddie could only get the slightest glimpse of, and started rubbing quick circles against your clit. You keened, dropping your head back against his shoulder, soft lips parted in a silent gasp.
Eddie pumped his cock more aggressively, pulsing in his hand as he felt himself getting closer. His eyes were set on your tits, bouncing with every thrust from Steve - from Eddie, he pictured in his mind.
โSteveโฆoh god,โ you whimpered, body nearly going limp in Steveโs arms. โโm gonna cum.โ
Those words coming from your mouth made Eddie nearly choke. He catalogued them in his brain for later, ready to play on repeat when he was alone and needy. He gave his cock a few quick jerks before slowing down, squeezing with the upstroke and thumbing his head. He shuddered - he was getting close, too.
โCome on, baby, make a mess all over my cock for me. Wanna feel you cum around me,โ Steve encouraged, his voice raspy. God, you were all close.
You let out whimpering moans as he brought you higher and higher, the sound hotter than anything Eddie had ever heard. The quietest moan clawed its way from his throat - he couldnโt help it. He was so close and you were right there putting on such a good show, and his cock was throbbing in his hand, balls clenching tight as he was ready to blow probably the biggest load of his life.
โOh my god, oh my god,โ you cried. โI- oh fuck, oh my god-โ
Eddie knew the second you came, because you cried out loudly, gasping and shaking against Steve as your orgasm crashed through you, Steve smirking and fucking you harder as he whispered praises in your ear.
The second your body seized up with pleasure, making those hot little noises, it hit Eddie like a fucking truck. His jaw dropped open and he moaned, forgetting himself, electricity shooting up his spine. He flicked his wrist faster, cumming harder than he ever had, his spend landing against the shower curtain in endless ropes. He worked himself through it, working every last bit of cum out of his dick until there was nothing left.
He opened his eyes again just in time to see Steve with you bent over the counter again, pounding hard into you from behind - until he groaned, loud, stilling as he came inside you. Fuck, you let him cum inside?
Steve pulled out of you, and Eddie could see his cum dripping down your inner thigh. Holy fucking shit. That image was getting filed away in his brain, too.
โKnew youโd come back,โ Steve laughed cockily, tucking himself away and redoing his jeans. He had that stupid fucking smirk on his face that pissed Eddie off so bad every time it was directed at you.
โI wouldnโt say that,โ you mumbled. You pulled your top and sports bra over your head, pushed your skirt to the floor. โI was horny and you asked.โ
โSure, baby,โ Steve smirked. He ran his hand over your ass again. โJust remember all this belongs to me. And everyone knows it.โ
โIโm going to take a shower.โ You ignored him, grabbing your bag and heading for the showers. Eddie backed up away from the curtain, afraid youโd see him through the crack.
โWant me to join you?โ he asked, but he was already picking up his backpack.
โGo home, Harrington.โ
Steve just laughed. He slung his bag over his shoulder and left, letting the door fall closed behind him. He heard the shower start a few stalls down, and he let out a deep breath.
He had to clean up the cum on the curtain, he realized. Fuck. He looked all around before spotting a dirty towel, wiping his mess off the curtain and throwing the towel back in the dirty laundry.
Eddie snuck out of the shower stall and through the locker room. He didnโt relax a single bit until he was out of the locker room and safely down the hall, pushing the exit doors open and speed walking to his van.
Had he taken it too far?
But shit, that was worth it.
After the shower incident, Eddie made himself take a step back.
The post nut clarity had hit him hard after, like a punch to the face. He had taken it too far. Imagine if you knew what heโd done - heโd be even more of a Hawkins pariah than he already was. That didnโt bother him as much as the thought that youโd hate him.
He tried to stop thinking about you, he really did. He didnโt open the yearbook or stick his hand down his pants for 3 days. That was pretty much a record.
But you made it so hard. Just by existing, by being in the vicinity, Eddie could never think about anything else. He wanted you like heโd never wanted anything, not just your body but all of you. He wanted you to be his so bad he could barely breathe.
So how was he supposed to keep it together when you were right in front of him? When you giggled with your friends with that beautiful smile on your face, those glossed lips he longed to kiss. When you performed a cheer routine and made every other girl on the team look like a total amateur. When you answered a difficult question in class that just proved you had beauty and brains. They didnโt often go hand in hand.
And when you approached him after class Thursday, he swore his heart stopped. Thatโs the only way youโd be approaching him outside of the normal schedule - which he knew by heart. The only explanation was that he must have died and somehow gone to heaven, and you were the angel here to greet him.
You were wearing a short denim skirt and pink sweater today, your hair styled and earrings dangling from your lobes. You could have worn a garbage bag and you would still have taken his breath away.
โHey Eddie,โ you greeted as you found him by his locker, the sweetest smile on your face. You leaned against the wall of lockers next to him, clutching your books to your chest.
โO-ohโฆhey,โ he greeted you back, trying to look casual as he was freaking out. โWhatโs up?โ
โI was just thinkingโฆโ You glanced over, smiling and waving back at one of the cheerleaders as she passed by. You turned your attention back to Eddie - your plush lips shined with whatever lipgloss you were wearing, and Eddie longed to taste it, lick it right off. โAre you free tonight?โ
He couldnโt help it - his eyes widened, mouth parting in shock before he could mask his surprise. โYes- um, I mean, yeah. Iโm free. What for?โ
โCould we maybeโฆmeet?โ You looked up at him through your eyelashes, looking like the picture of innocence - which he knew very well you were not. The contrast of your sweet expression with the girl he saw getting fucked in the school locker room sent his heart racing, cock filling out in his jeans. โOur usual spot?โ
โYeah? Yeah, of course,โ he said quickly, nodding his head, curls bouncing. โ3:30?โ
โThatโs perfect.โ You smiled even bigger at him, looking like an absolute angel. โThanks, Eddie. See you there.โ
Eddie watched as you walked off, hips swaying, a million people stopping to greet or talk to you as you walked down the hall. Eddie wondered what it must be like to be popular. He wasnโt interested in it for himself, but it was a whole other world to him.
He wanted to tell the guys immediately that he was seeing you today, but thought better of it. Theyโd just laugh at him, ruin his excitement. This was for him - he held it close to his chest.
After school, he walked to the clearing as fast as his long legs could take him, metal lunchbox in hand. He didnโt have much on him today - he wasnโt expecting to ask to meet. Fridays were definitely his biggest days for sales, not so much the rest of the week.
He gave himself a pep talk as he trekked through the woods behind the school, ducking under branches and feet crunching on dead leaves. He thought about what heโd say - he had to be confident. He couldnโt be stuttering over his words like he had earlier. He rehearsed in his head the things he might say, over and over like he was running lines for a performance. He supposed he was.
When he reached the clearing, he sat on the edge of the picnic table. He picked up a dead leaf on the wood, fidgeting with it, tearing it apart piece by piece, crunching it between his fingers.
At the sound of footsteps, he jumped off the table, looking into the trees. He was sweating, and pretty sure he was currently having heart palpitations. He didnโt know if heโd ever be able to look at you without feeling like he was being hunted for sport.
You were alone - Carol and Tina nowhere to be found, much to Eddieโs relief. You smiled at him as you walked into the clearing. Somehow you looked even more beautiful than when he had seen you earlier. You had a scratch on your knee, probably from a sharp branch brushing against you on the way here. Your foot caught on a tree root on the way to the table, and Eddie rushed forward, catching you before you could hit the ground.
โWoah,โ he said, casual, although the feeling of touching you, having you in his arms, sent his heart racing. โCareful, sweetheart.โ
โThanks,โ you said, your cheeks hot as you stood back up. โEmbarrassing.โ
โNot at all.โ Eddie smiled kindly, and you realized in that moment that he had a really nice smile. A pretty smile. Eddie wasnโt a bad looking guy at all - he was cute, actually - and he was sweet, too. You found the nerdy thing to be endearing, his bad boy look enticing.
You took a seat on one side of the picnic table, so Eddie slid into the other side. He flipped open his lunchbox. โWhat can I help you with today, princess? Iโm a little low on supply today, but I can get more from home.โ
You looked around. โI had just been thinkingโฆโ You tapped your fingernails nervously on the wood, avoiding Eddieโs eyes. โI guess I was just wonderingโฆif you have anythingโฆstronger?โ
Eddieโs eyes widened. He hadnโt been expecting that. He was shocked enough when heโd first learned that little miss Queen of Hawkins was a bit of a stoner - something that turned him on, if he was honest - but something beyond just weed?
โUmโฆโ he thought for a second, mentally going over his supply. โI donโt have anything on me, but at the house I have some stuff. Have you ever done shrooms?โ
You broke out into a grin. โNo. Have you?โ
โOh yeah,โ he laughed. โI, uh, have some at the house, if you want toโฆget some?โ
You smiled even bigger. โOh, hell yeah. That sounds amazing.โ You thought for a second. โI could ride home with you after practice?โ
Eddie practically choked on air at that. โRide- home? With me? To my house?โ
You laughed, although a little awkwardly. โYeah. You did say it was at the house, right? I mean I definitely donโt have to if you donโt want me to-โ
โNo!โ Eddie said, too fast and too loud. โNo. I mean, yeah, itโs fine. You canโฆuh, weโll ride to my place together after practice. Iโll hang around.โ
He was never ashamed of who he was or where he came from, but the idea of you standing in his trailer made him sweat even worse. But at the same time - you in his house? In his room, even?
โCool,โ you smiled. โYou can always come watch practice, yโknow, if you want.โ
Eddie wasnโt about to say he had watched practice multiple times already, so he just nodded. โYeah. Okay, yeah, Iโll hang out and watch.โ
You smiled even bigger. You actually looked excited at the thought of Eddie watching you practice. โPractice ends at 5, so we can go to your place then.โ Something occurred to you then, your smile fading. โWill your, uhโฆparents be there?โ
โNo, I live with my uncle,โ Eddie explained. โAnd he works nights at the plant making the big bucks, soโฆjust us.โ
You seemed relieved at that. โThat must be cool, having the house to yourself all night.โ
Eddie shrugged sheepishly. โIt can be. I usually just get high and fuck around on my guitar until I pass out.โ And, you know, jerk off to your picture with your panties and lotion. Itโs not like he had any girls coming over.
Until now. This would be the first time heโd ever had a girl over, and it was you. He had to be dreaming, right?
โSounds like a good night,โ you giggled. You stood from the table, throwing your bag over your shoulder. โI have to run to practice now, but Iโll see you after?โ
โYeah, of course. Wonโt let you down,โ Eddie said, then felt like a total idiot. โIโll meet you out front.โ
โSounds good.โ You gave him that beautiful smile, the one that always sent him reeling. โSee you then, Eddie.โ
He watched you go, frozen in place. Itโs like his brain short circuited every time you said his name, like he felt it was something too lowly to roll off your tongue, but it always made him ache. Once he snapped out of it, he grabbed his stuff and headed for the field.
At least he could watch you without hiding this time.
You are in love with Garrett Graham BUT he's your bestfriend's boyfriend. You did'nt wanted everyone to know so one evening when your friends cornerned you about your love life, you lied about dating John Logan. As he is in love with Hannah you made the deal to play pretend so everyone could get off your both backs.
PART 1
PART 2
PART 3
PART 4
PART 5
PART 6
PART 7
PART 8 NEW CHAPTER END OF THE SERIES!๐ฅนโค๏ธโ๐ฅ
a/n: you asked and i delivered - here is part 2 to this fic !!! i'm so excited about the hype that y'all have been giving to part 1 and hope that the rest of the series will meet your guys' standards. fyi i am in the middle of moving houses right now, so the next few chapters might be slower to be posted but i will get to them as fast as i can! i hope you enjoy this chapter and are excited about the ones to come!!
word count: 7.7k
synopsis: yours and john's schedules finally align so you can go get coffee together and get to know each other better. but it isn't a date...right?
~~~
His cologne enveloped you as soon as you opened the front door to find him standing on the other side of the threshold. He was wearing a pale blue button-up under a Carhartt jacket, his silver chain poking out of the space left by the top two buttons that were undone. His hair was as fluffy as youโd always seen it, tempting you to run your hands through it to see if it was really as soft as you expected.ย
And his smile.ย
It was shyer than youโd seen it before, but it was still the same as the one that had been engraved in your mind since youโd met him almost three weeks ago.
โHi,โ you greeted him, unable to contain the grin that spread across your face.
โHey,โ he replied. โYou look great.โ
โThanks, so do you.โ You stepped back, opening the door wider for him to enter the house instead of just standing on the front porch. โI rushed down and forgot my bag, but Iโll be right back,โ you explained, shutting the door behind him.
โTake your time, I can wait.โ You gave him another smile before turning and hurrying up the stairs. You almost rammed your shoulder into your doorway, but managed to dodge it just in time. You grabbed your bag of choice that was already packed with all the essentials you might need, spritzed yourself with your favourite perfume, and shoved your feet into your shoes. You stopped momentarily to check your hair and makeup in your vanity mirror. You fluffed your hair and gritted your teeth to check for any lipstick residue before standing up straight and forcing yourself to take three deep breaths.
Itโs just coffee, you told yourself, feeling your shoulders relax. It might not even count as a date.
Neither you or John had outwardly labelled it as a date, which you found somewhat reassuring. A date was a lot of pressure. Just getting coffee was easy.
You opened your eyes, meeting them in the mirror and let your natural smile appear on your features. Despite having just fluffed your hair, you tucked it behind your ears, nervously fixing it down over your shoulders.ย
You could do this.
You didnโt even know why you were so nervous. Even if it was a date, it wasnโt the first one youโd ever been on. You had gone on a handful in your previous two years at Briar, with only two ever leading to a second date. Neither of which led past a fourth date. Which you were fine with. Those guys hadnโt been the ones for you. Sure, theyโd been nice to look at across a candlelit dinner or on the mini golf course, but none of them had been especially interesting. None of them had really had anything to offer personality wise. You couldnโt land a single joke or even a teasing quip without feeling as if you had hurt their feelings, or even without being lectured on why your joke hadnโt landed.ย
Meanwhile, John had laughed at all your jokes and taken your teasing in stride, even firing some of his own back. It was fun being around him, easy.
You wanted to be around him.ย
The week and a half since you two had last seen each other in person would have passed by so much slower had you two not been texting practically nonstop. He had been busy with hockey and work, while you had been occupied with school and work, yet somehow you two had managed to arrange a day and time that worked for both of you all on the same day that he had asked if you would be willing to go for coffee with him. Your fingers had never flown across a keyboard as fast as when youโd read that text from him. Since then there was rarely a time where you werenโt texting John or thinking about your last text exchange with him. You were hopelessly crushing, but too scared to admit it.
Too scared to even admit that you were currently about to go on a first date with him because that would make it real.
As you reached the middle of the staircase you were horrified to find your roommates in the entryway talking to John.ย
โWhatโs going on?โ You asked, stepping onto the staircaseโs landing. The three of them had all turned to look at you, John with an almost mesmerized look in his eyes, which your friends immediately noticed, exchanging a look between the two of them.
โOh, we were just getting to know John here,โ your roommate said with a smirk.ย
โWere you now?โ You glanced nervously between them all, your roommates grins doing nothing to help you out.
โNothing bad. We were just asking about his intentions with you, his political views, thoughts on womenโs rights, thoughts on hockey culture- yโknow all the normal stuff.โย
โOh yeah just the stuff that comes up in everyday conversation,โ you deadpanned, the teasing from your roommates actually helping to calm your nerves. โYou ready?โ You fully faced John, meeting him face to face. He had a small smile on his face, which your roommates would later tell you had never left his face in the entire time that he had been in your presence.
โSo long as you are,โ he replied. You nodded and began to reach for the door handle, but he beat you to it, opening the door so you could walk through first. โIt was really nice meeting you guys,โ he said to your roommates who were waving flirtatiously at you when you turned back to watch the exchange.
โYou too, John boy!โ
โHands to yourself!โ You could feel the blood in your cheeks as he latched the door shut behind you, matching your steps down your porch steps.
โI would say Iโm sorry about them, but Iโm really not,โ you said as you walked down the short path to his truck which was parked exactly where it had been two and a half weeks ago when heโd originally come to take a look at your car.
โNo, theyโre awesome, I love that,โ John replied. โI can tell youโre really comfortable with them.โ
โYeah, theyโre my best friends in the world, theyโre the best.โ
โThatโs great.โ You two exchanged smiles, before John took a few steps ahead of you to get to the passenger side door first to open it for you. You thanked him as you climbed in and once you were settled he closed the door behind you. As you turned to pull your seatbelt over you, you caught your roommates watching you from the front living room window. You shook your head at them in mock disappointment as they only laughed and waved their phones to let you know that they had been recording and taking pictures since you two had left the front door. You looked away as John pulled his door open and climbed into his seat.
โYou good?โ he asked.
โYeah, of course.โ
โGood,โ he said, clicking his seatbelt into place and handing his phone out to you. โDo you want aux?โ You gasped at the chance to see what his music taste was and excitedly took his phone, feeling a spark as your fingers lightly brushed. His phone was already unlocked and open to Spotify, allowing you to easily navigate to his playlists and saved albums. He watched you with a small smile for a few moments before putting the truck in drive and pulling onto the street, but not before leaning forward and giving your roommates a wave through the window. You looked up at this exchange and laughed at your friends' reactions in the window.
Going back to his phone, you scanned the names of playlists and album covers. Most of the playlists seemed to be workout and hype mixes, leaving you to wonder how many of these playlists one person could need before you remembered your five different studying playlists for your different moods. Most of the albums were rap and hip hop and artists you didnโt listen to or had never even heard of. You found one playlist titled โJulesโ influenceโ which was filled with a random mix of songs from indie artists, some of which you had heard of.
โSo, is it horrible?โ John asked, causing you to look up from his phone and at him. You mustโve looked confused because he followed up. โMy music taste. Jules always says I need to work on it.โ
โIt could be worse,โ you replied, teasingly. โCould also be a lot better, though.โ John laughed, a warm feeling developing in your chest at the sound. You continued to scroll, feeling as if you might find a hidden gem in the depths of his Spotify account. And you did when you found a playlist of Bruno Marsโ entire discography.
โI knew there had to be something redeeming in here,โ you said before pressing shuffle play. You sighed as Locked out of Heaven began playing through the speakers. John looked over at you with an amused smile as you nodded your head to the beat.
โBig Bruno Mars fan?โ John asked.
โSays the one with a whole playlist of just his music,โ you teased. โThis is my favourite song of his though.โ John leaned forward and turned the volume up a few notches, causing you to grin at him.
About fifteen minutes later you rolled into town, lucky enough to find a parking spot right in front of the coffee shop that your roommate had recommended you guys check out. Before you even had your seatbelt undone, John had undone his and rushed around the truck to get your door for you, a gesture you giggled at and thanked him for.
The ease of finding a parking spot turned out to be completely out of luck because when John had opened the cafe door for you, you found the small space to be almost completely packed, with the line ending only two feet away from the door. Once the line had crept slightly forward, John was able to fully join you in the line, your back pressed almost completely to his front, catching you off guard at the proximity.
โDo you know what youโre getting?โ His lips practically brushed your ear as he leaned down so you could hear him, the blood rushing to your cheeks once again. You shook your head no, unable to even spot a glimpse of the menu. A few moments later, Johnโs phone appeared in front of you, displaying a picture of the menu. You looked back at him over your shoulder, a grateful smile on your lips for the gesture. You did your best to focus on what the menu listed instead of the fact that he was so close you could feel his body heat radiating off of him. It was either him or the sheer warmth of being in the cramped coffee shop.
โCan I get a small iced caramel mocha, please?โ you asked the barista once it was your turn to order almost twenty minutes later. After you had decided on your orders, you and John had made up a game of deciding the personalities and lifestyles of the other patrons in the shop as a way to pass the time. While they had originally started off as plausible possibilities they became more humorous and outlandish as your wait grew.
โAnd can I get a small iced cinnamon mocha, please?โ John ordered after you. He beat you again by having his card ready before you could even unzip your bag to find yours. After the barista confirmed your orders you fixed John with an annoyed look which he met with a smile.ย
That damn smile of his.
โYโknow I am capable of doing things myself, right?โ you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.
โYeah, but Iโm here. So why should you?โ You could only shake your head, trying to hide your growing smile. After another few minutes of designating the customers around you with fake backstories your drinks were ready. You both thanked the barista before turning and scanning the shop. Noticing that there were absolutely zero free chairs and tables you agreed to head outside.
โI can finally breathe again,โ you sighed as you stepped back into the fresh air, John holding the door open for you.
โYou ready to give these a try?โ John asked, gesturing to the drinks you both held.
โLetโs do it.โ At the same time you both took sips of your respective drinks. Yours was not good. But, seeing as John had paid for it, and not wanting to come off as too picky, you tried to mask your disgust with a pleased expression. โHmm.โ
โHow is it?โ John asked, studying the drink in his hand.
โItโsโฆdecent.โ
โReally? โCause mineโs disgusting.โ You almost choke on your sip at Johnโs reaction, a laugh trying to fight its way out of you.
โI was trying to be nice!โ you groaned. โBut yeah, this is awful.โ You both canโt help the laughs that escape you at the ridiculousness of having just waited half an hour for those horrible drinks.
โHere,โ John says, gesturing for you to hand him your cup. โI think I know how I can make these better.โ You hand your plastic cup over and watch as he walks a few steps away and proceeds to throw both practically full cups in the garbage can. โI hate wasting food, but thereโs no way either of us are drinking those anymore.โ
โCompletely understandable in this case.โ He walked back over to you, stopping a couple steps away with his hands tucked into his jeans pockets.
โSo, I know I asked you to go for coffee, but seeing as that didnโt go the best, did you wanna take a walk around town instead?โ
โIโd love to.โ The two of you fell into step beside each other, John taking the side closest to the street, which youโre sure to remember to tell your friends about later on.
โHowโs your car been the past couple weeks?โ He asked.
โReally good!โ you replied. โNo smoke, no noises that shouldnโt be there. Sheโs back and better than ever.โ
โGood, Iโm glad.โ
โHowโs hockey been?โ
โGood. Weโve won our last couple games, which is always nice.โ
โYeah, I bet,โ you laugh. โYou been scoring a lot?โ
โNot as much as I want.โ
โItโll happen. Watch youโll start a hot streak next game, I can feel it.โ John laughed, his chest warm at the faith you had in him.
โWe gotta get you out to a game. Maybe youโll be my lucky charm.โ You felt your cheeks warm at the implication that you could be good for his game, knowing how seriously hockey players took their superstitions.
โIf it keeps the Hawks winning then sign me up,โ you joked before stopping mid-step. โHave you ever been in there?โ you asked. John came to a halt and turned to look at the thrift shop you were pointing to.
โCanโt say I have.โ
โThey have the coolest stuff all the time. Itโs the best thrift Iโve ever been to.โ You had no intention of actually going in and just wanted to share the remark, but John noticed the gleam in your eyes and suggested going in. โWe donโt have to, I was just saying.โ
โNo, no, you said they have the coolest stuff, so I wanna see,โ John teased you with a smirk. You could feel the challenge in the air between you two and decided to take him on.
โAlright. Follow me.โ
John got the door for you once again and you couldnโt help the smile on your face that came from the gesture and being back in one of your favourite stores. The shop was small, practically a hole in the wall, and was stuffed wall-to-wall with racks of clothes and tables of trinkets. The familiar smell was comforting as you took a deep breath.
โThis place smells like my grandmaโs house,โ John remarked behind you.
โThatโs the best part!โ you exclaimed. โCome on, Iโll show you my favourite part of the shop.โ You took off down the main aisle of the place, headed towards the back. You turned down an aisle that was crammed full of colourful knitted blankets, following it all the way down to a shelf against the wall. The shelf itself was slanted, appearing as if it could collapse at any moment, with the amount of things stuffed onto it only adding to this appearance. You grinned as you reached it, turning to John and framing the shelf with jazz hands.ย
โWow, itโsโฆa shelf.โ
You fixed him with an exasperated look, which quickly reverted back to a grin. โItโs not just a shelf, itโs a wonderland of trinkets and accessories.โ
โIโm sure it is.โ John reached towards the shelf and plucked a tiny figurine of a cow wearing a party hat from it. He inspected it for no more than five seconds before looking at you with a quirked brow. It took a lot of your willpower to not kiss him right there and then.
โYouโre telling me thatโs not adorable?โ
โNo, no, it is. Iโm thinking you mightโve hyped it up a bit too much though.โ He placed the figurine gently back in its spot and looked back at you.
โWell, you havenโt seen much just yet.โ
You spent the next half an hour showing John around the store, ten of those minutes being completely spent on the trinket shelf, trying to convince him to purchase something from it, deciding on the party cow. When he finally agreed, he insisted on finding you your own shelf trinket to purchase. Eventually, he found a matching cow figurine to his, this one with a green party hat instead of pink. He clutched the both of them in his hand while you moved your tour along to a different part of the shop.
You showed him the graphic t-shirt racks, many of which he agreed were very cool and was the section he took the most interest in. His second favourite was the table near the front of the store that held many different accessories, including hats, scarves, gloves, and bags. Upon arriving at the table, John spotted a fluffy frog hat, which he placed carefully over his hair, causing you to laugh uncontrollably.
โWait! Stay there, I need a picture,โ you managed to get out through your laughs, pulling out your phone to take said picture. At first he faked an annoyed look before a smile broke out on his lips, causing your laughing to begin once again. Once you got the picture, John took the hat off his head and placed it gently on top of yours.
โNow hang on,โ he instructed, pulling out his own phone to snap a picture. You gave him a variety of facial expressions and poses, turning the simple photo into a photoshoot of sorts. John only smiled through them all, enjoying the sight in front of him. Once you deemed he had gotten enough pictures of you in the frog hat, the two of you made it your mission to find the silliest item for the other person to wear or hold up for a picture. The game quickly turned competitive.
You found John a pair of extremely short gym shorts that resembled early 2000s velour tracksuits.
He found you a silk robe covered in a dollar sign print.
You found a pair of pink leopard cowboy boots.
He found a sweater that seemed to list the dates of a singular personโs six different wedding ceremonies.
You found a mug that read โHoney, Iโm sorry for sleeping with your great-aunt. Please take me back!โ
He found a blanket that had Danny Devitoโs face printed all over it.
After almost an hour of this game, you decided to continue on with the day. John quickly paid for both of the cow figurines before you both headed outside.
โPink or green?โ He asked, holding a figurine in each palm.
โGreen, please.โ You plucked the figurine from his outreached hand, but not before snapping a picture of him holding the both of them. โAw, theyโre like our little children.โ You internally cringed, horrified that you had just implied that these practically microscopic cows were your shared children. This wasnโt even a date and you had basically said that you were already thinking about having kids.ย
You might as well have just walked into traffic right then and there.
However, if John had thought your remark was weird, he didnโt say so and simply pulled out his phone.
โLetโs take a family picture then.โ He held his phone out wide in front of the both of you. You shook yourself out of your self critical fog and turned your body in towards him, proudly displaying your new trinket in the palm of your hand. The sides of yours and Johnโs hands brushed as you both posed, your internal dialogue turning from self deprecating to a mess of giggling and blushing. โSo, where to next?โ
You glanced around the streets, scanning for anything interesting that there might be to do.
โWe could just keep walking? See if we come across anything worthwhile.โ
โSounds great,โ John agreed, falling into step beside you once again. You were in the middle of discussing the items you had found in the thrift store when John stopped, gesturing to the store youโd wound up in front of. โHey, isnโt this where you work?โ
You glanced up at the sign, realizing that you had, in fact, walked right in front of the bookstore that youโd worked at since your freshmen year at Briar. โOh yeah, it is.โ
โDo you wanna go in?โ
โWhat? Oh no. We donโt have to. Iโm there all the time already, theyโre sick of me.โ
โYeah, but you probably donโt really get the chance to look around all that much, right?โย
โRightโฆโ you hesitated, not wanting to make the day all about you. But he did have a point.
โAlright, then letโs go in.โ He grabbed the door handle and as soon as he swung it open the smell of hundreds of books, most of which were used, envelopped you in a warm hug. You sighed, taking in the beautiful sight of stacks and stacks and tables of books waiting for you to explore them; despite you being the one who most likely shelved at least a third of them. While you and your roommates had the house that you loved, this shop truly was your home away from home. Despite spending a good chunk of your time here every week, you wouldโve been content with having to move in full-time.ย
โWelcome in!โ a voice called from the register to the left of you. Your boss, Lucinda, sat at her usual perch behind the front desk with her usual grin.
โHi, Lucy,โ you greeted her, feeling shy all of a sudden as John stepped in behind you.
โYouโre not working today, dear, what brings you in?โ
โUh, my friend, John, suggested we come in just to look around.โ Lucy didnโt miss the slight twitch in Johnโs smile at you calling him a friend, something you missed due to him standing behind you.
โHi, Iโm John,โ he introduced himself, sticking out his hand for Lucinda to shake, which she gladly did with a laugh.
โLucinda,โ the bookstore owner greeted back. โWell, you two enjoy yourselves, and if you need anything, Iโll be right here. Though, of course, you already know where everything is, dear.โ
โThanks, Lucy.โ You turned to face John who gestured for you to lead the way. Youโre different in the bookstore than you were in the thrift shop. While in there you were loudly confident, thrilled to be showing John around, in here you were more quietly sure of yourselfโwandering the shelves slowly, taking in every book spine your eyes fell upon. While this was your place of work, it was also your solitude. You rarely ever ventured to any of Briarโs libraries to study because you had this place and Lucinda was always willing to let you in to study for as long as you needed.
You followed the natural flow of the storeโs fixtures, from the tables at the front displaying new and popular reads, to the back where the nonfiction books and magazines were held. When a book looked particularly interesting you would pick it up and read the synopsis, gauging whether it should be added to your TBR or not. Not being much of a reader himself, John followed behind you, listening as you read synopses or excitedly recounted the plot points of your favourite books when you came across them. The way your face lit up upon finding an old favourite of yours would make his heart stutter and the tips of his ears go warm. Needless to say he was in no way bored while following you around. In fact, he couldโve done it forever if you let him.
โHey, what time is it?โ you asked after placing a book back in its slot on the shelf.
โThree thirty.โ
โWhat?โ you wheeled around, your eyes practically bulging out of your head.
โYeah, why?โ John asked, slightly amused.
โWeโve been in here for an hour!โ
โWhatโs wrong with that?โ John asked through a laugh, clearly not understanding what you were so hysterical about.
โWe were supposed to spend today together, not just with you following me around at my job!โ
โHey, itโs okay!โ John reassured you, his hand gently squeezing your bicep as you tried hard not to completely freak out at having completely overtaken the day. โI was the one who told you we should come in here. I had a feeling what I was getting into when I did. So, itโs cool, okay?โ He watched you intently as you sighed deeply, his doe-like eyes fixated on yours. You nodded, feeling calmer from his reassurance that you hadnโt completely ruined what mightโve been your first date together.
โOkay, sorry.โ
โNo need to apologize,โ he gave you a smile to make sure you knew that it truly wasnโt as serious as you thought. โDo you want to get out of here?โ
โYes and you get to pick what we do next. No more letting me control everything.โ
โWell I think thatโs only fair,โ he deadpanned before allowing a smile to spread over his lips at your slight pout from the teasing. You said bye to Lucinda as you exited the store, the older woman telling John to come back whenever he wanted which made him laugh.
โSo where to, Johnny boy?โ you asked, as you continued your side-by-side walk further into town.
โYou ever been to the lake just outside of town?โ You shook your head, only just remembering that the lake existed. โFollow me then.โ He guided you down the sidewalk, taking a few shortcuts down residential streets, before arriving at the east edge of town which overlooked the small lake that was overshadowed by tall willow trees. The sun was beginning to dip in the sky, but was yet to bring about any chill to the air. John led you down to a bench a little ways from the water, dusting the seat off with his jacket sleeve. He gestured for you to sit, which you did, taking a seat beside him, less than a foot of space between you two. You both sat facing towards the water, the wind on the surface of the water and in the tree branches and the wildlife being the only sounds to break the silence.
โDo you come here a lot?โ
โEvery once in a while,โ John replied, looking out over the water. โWhen we were younger my mom would bring me and my siblings here if it was nice out.โ
โAre you close with your mom?โ Something shifted in the guyโs face at the mention of his mom. Not darkness, but something haunting.
โNot really. Sheโs been in and out of rehab so much that I never really know where or how Iโll find her.โย
โIโm sorry.โ
โItโs no oneโs fault. Itโs just how her brain works.โ He said it so casually that you almost believed that he believed it himself. And even though youโve only known the guy for less than a month, you had a feeling that he wasnโt being the most honest. โOr at least thatโs what all the doctors have told us.โย
โThatโs still hard, though. Especially with having to help take care of Jules.โ He turned to look at you then, his eyes scanning your face.
โDid I tell you that?โ
โYeah,โ you laughed. โWhen you picked me up from class after you fixed my car.โ John then groaned, his hands coming to cover his face.
โSome first impression I made then, huh?โ You laughed, folding one leg in on the bench so you could turn your body to face him.
โWell, I think that was actually your second impression. Unless you count all the texting from that week and how you repeatedly accused me of being a Rangers fan!โ
โHey, Iโve apologized since, havenโt I?โ He asked, now turning his body to face you.
โYeah, I guess today counts as an apology,โ you responded in a quieter tone than before. His eyes roamed your face and you somehow failed to notice how they lingered on your lips for a second longer than anywhere else.
โDo you have a favourite spot you go to? On or off campus?โ
โWe were just at my favourite spot,โ you responded, referring to the bookstore.
โHuh, explains why you took so long.โ You reached forward and shoved Johnโs shoulder jokingly. He groaned in fake pain, clutching his shoulder as you laughed.
โHey, I apologized! I genuinely thought it had only been like twenty minutes.โ
โNah, Iโm just kidding,โ he said, sitting up properly again, a small smile on his face. โIt was fun seeing you in your element. I just didnโt think anyone could spend that long looking at books without getting bored.โ
โWell, what was one of the first things you learned about me?โ
โThat youโre an English major.โ
โRight on, Johnny.โ He looked down at his hands with a smile, fiddling with the edge of his sleeve.
โWhat do you plan on doing with that after you graduate?โ he asked.
โGrad school,โ you sighed, a common reaction you had whenever the thought of your future came about. โMaybe a PhD to see how long I can fend off the work force, then hopefully teach at the college level.โ
โGot it all figured out, huh?โ
โFor the most part. Hopefully.โ
โAre your parents supportive?โ
โOh, theyโre the best,โ you smiled at the thought of your parents. How they had constantly pushed you to do what you wanted to do, not what anyone else thought was best. Your heart clenched at not having seen them in what felt like forever. โThey just want me to be whoever I want.โ
โThatโs great. Iโm glad you have that,โ John said, sounding genuinely happy that you had that support system.
โThanks. Iโm just so scared of disappointing them, yโknow? Theyโve worked so hard my whole life and itโs likeโฆwhat if I end up not being worth all that trouble?โ You caught yourself off guard by admitting this. You had never really voiced these concerns out loud, but for some reason when you were around John the words just fell right out.
โHey, if they really love you and care for you then it wonโt matter what you do in the future,โ he said, earnestly. His eyes bore into yours, almost as if he was trying to push the thought into your head. โYouโll still be their daughter. And for what itโs worth, I know youโre gonna do something great with your life. I donโt think youโd allow yourself to do or be anything less than great.โ You laughed, your heart clenching at his words and how genuine they sounded coming from him. Any regrets youโd had about voicing your concerns had flown right out the window.
โThanks for saying that.โ He nodded his head, a small smile on his lips. โWhat about you? What are you gonna do with your business degree, Johnny?โ
โWho even knows,โ he groaned, eliciting a small laugh from you. โItโs, hopefully, just a backup.โ
โFor?โ
โIf I donโt make it to the NHL.โ
โYou have doubts that you will?โ you asked, genuinely confused.ย
โYou say that like youโve seen me play.โ
โIโve seen a clip or two,โ you shrugged. โMostly from Julesโ account.โ
โI just really want to prove myself. But thatโs hard when you play on a line with Phil Grahamโs son.โ There was a small hint of irritation in his voice, which you could understand. You knew that Garrett Graham was Johnโs best friend, but also, possibly, his biggest competition for a chance at getting to the NHL. Garrett had already been drafted to the Boston Bruins, but that only meant that there were now even more eyes on him and less on John.
โHey, youโre your own person. You donโt have to exist or live in anyone elseโs shadow other than your own,โ you tried to reassure him like he had done for you. โAnd the NHL? Easy. Youโll be playing for the Oilers as soon as you graduate,โ you ended, cheekily.
โIs that a threat?โ
โYou could play for a lot worse teams than Edmonton.โ
โUgh, like Vegas.โ You both cringed which led to laughter from the both of you.ย
โHave you ever told anyone that stuff?โ you asked after your laughter had lapsed into silence for a few moments. โAbout making it to the show?โ John whistled at your choice of words.
โDamn, youโre talking like one of the guys calling it the show," he laughed. "Iโve really only talked about it with Jules. Youโre the only other person Iโve told.โ Blood flows to your cheeks again, either from the chill that had begun to waft off the water, or from being one of the only people that knew about Johnโs secret feelings.
โNot even Garrett?โ John sighed and shook his head.
โItโs hard when heโs already been drafted and Iโm stuck waiting for a chance.โ You mulled his words over in your mind.
โDo you believe in things being meant to be?โ John hesitated, seeming to now mull your words over. You didnโt notice how his eyes lingered on you as he thought of the words to say.
โI might.โ
โWell, think of getting picked as being meant to be. Maybe it just hasnโt been the right time or the right team. If itโs meant to be itโll happen when itโs supposed to. Not before.โ You met his eyes then, which had already been trained on your face. A moment passed where it felt like only the two of you existed, purely understanding each other, with nothing else around.
โAll that Shakespeareโs made you wise, English major,โ John broke the silence with a smile.
โAnd looking at spreadsheets all day has made you lose perspective, business major,โ you joked back.
โI gotta keep you around then. Make sure I donโt lose sight of it all.โ The way John looked at you then made your breath catch in your throat. Your mind seemed to go blank, other than being filled with how he was looking at you right then and how it made you feel. Maybe this was a date.
โKeep playing your cards right and weโll see, Johnny,โ you scoffed, forcing yourself to look away and back at the water, hoping he couldnโt hear how fast your heart was beating.
โโKeep,โ huh? So Iโve been doing good so far.โ
โWell saving me money goes a long way in my book if that feeds your ego.โ
โDuly noted.โ You looked back at him with a smile. One that he wished he couldโve taken a mental picture of so heโd never forget it.
โOh, look at the sunset!โ You exclaimed, pointing out over the lake where the autumn sky had begun to show streaks of purple, pink, and orange, a reflection of which showing on the surface of the water. John noticed how the bright colours highlighted your hair and formed almost a halo around you. While your back was turned he pulled out his phone and snapped a couple pictures of you, wanting to keep these for memory. โIsnโt it beautiful?โ
โYeah, it is.โ John remarked, his eyes focused on you instead of the sky.
Once the sun had fallen behind the trees lining the lake, John had asked if you wanted to go back to the truck before it got too cold. You agreed, taking the hand he offered to help you up off the bench. After brushing yourself off, you looked up at John to find him looking at you with a smile on his face. You returned it before quickly turning and yelling โrace ya!โ and taking off back towards the direction youโd come from.
John gave out a startled yell before you heard his feet pounding on the ground behind you. You laughed as your heart beat wildly in your chest, your breath coming out in fast pants as you continued to outpace the hockey player. Despite not knowing the neighbourhood the best, you managed to find your way back to the main road in town and pushed yourself the final yards to Johnโs truck in front of the coffee shop which you had left what felt like ages ago.ย
You raised your arms in victory, turning to face the athlete as he came to a stop behind you, panting. You let out a cheer as he hunched over his knees, gulping in breaths of air.
โHow the fuck did you get so fast?โ John panted out, causing you to laugh.
โI did track and field in high school,โ you explained, your hands on your hips as you took in deep breaths. โAnd I sometimes run the track at Briar.โ
โWhat the fuck. I might pass out.โ You laughed at the poor guyโs state, having to stop yourself from tousling his hair as he remained hunched over.
โWhat, that wasnโt just like a shift on the ice for you?โ
โNo, that was so much worse.โ You couldnโt help the grin that was on your face as he stood up, the flip of his hair making your heart stutter for a second. His cheeks were red from the exertion and the wind hitting him in the face while he ran. Your eyes went from his to how his silver chain fell against his heaving chest and back to his eyes. โThat was cruel.โ
โIโm sorry, I thought you could handle it, hockey player,โ you teased. He looked at you with what might've been supposed to be stern eyes, but they softened as soon as they actually fell on you and the large grin you couldnโt wipe away.
โNext time, it wonโt be so easy for you,โ he declared, a finger in the air to emphasize his point.
"So I can expect to see you on the track tomorrow morning?โ
โNot tomorrow,โ he gulped out. โBut whenever my legs and lungs recover, then yeah.โ You giggled, finding the whole scenario especially funny. โAre you hungry?โ
โAll that running make you hungry?โ
โIf anything, my guts are actually inside out right now- thanks again. But we havenโt had anything to eat or drink since we tried that god awful coffee,โ he explained, jutting his thumb towards the coffee shop behind you.
โI could eat,โ you agreed, slightly cringing at the memory of the coffee from hours ago.
โGood, โcause I know a place.โ
A two minute walk down Main street later and you wound up in front of a place advertising one dollar pizza slices, to which you scrunched your nose.
โThis is the best pizza place within a one hundred mile radius,โ John proudly announced.
โA dollar per slice? Is this some kind of payback for making you run?โ
โWhile I will absolutely be getting back at you at some point," John declared, "their customers are college kids and they know how to cater to that.โ The thought of how badly this could end for you crossed your mind, but you decided to be adventurous and shrugged.
โAlright, letโs do it.โ
John swung the door open for you to enter and your stomach immediately gurgled at the smell of fresh pizza cooking. When you got to the register you ordered two slices of pepperoni and a Sprite and John ordered two slices of meat lovers and a Dr Pepper. He beat you to the machine once again, giving you a huge smile as you frowned at him. Your food was ready minutes later and John let you decide which booth to sit at. You picked the one closest to the window and John started to slide into the seat across from you when you asked him to sit beside you instead.
โI hate when people watch me eat,โ you confessed, a blush covering your cheeks.ย
โNo problem,โ he responded unfazed, sliding in beside you with ease. Your arms brushed as you reached for your food at the same time, your breath catching slightly at the spark between you two as it happened. You took a bite out of your first slice and automatically understood what John had been talking about when he called it the best pizza place in the area. You scarfed down your first slice, not realizing just how hungry you had actually been.
โWas I right?โ John asked when you were halfway through your second slice, already finished both of his. You pretended to think about it, not wanting to let him know just how right heโd been.
โYou may have had some good points,โ you said, your hand covering your mouth as you spoke. He let out a โyesโ while pumping his fist, causing you to laugh. He finished up his drink as you finished your pizza. Once you were both for sure done, he took both of your paper plates and threw them out. You stood as he did so, brushing any crumbs off yourself while his back was turned.
โReady to go?โ he asked. You nodded your head, allowing him to open the door for you again out into the cool October air.ย
He opened the passenger side door for you once back at the truck and closed it once you were securely in. He handed his phone over to you wordlessly, allowing you to choose the music once again for the drive back to your place. โLocked out of Heavenโ by Bruno Mars played as he pulled away from the curb.
โThank you for today, I had a really good time,โ you said after John parked in front of your house.
โYeah, of course, I did too.โ
โAnd Iโm sorry, again, for spending an hour in the bookstore, that was really sweet of you to just let me look. I really never get to do that," you said sheepishly.
โWell, youโll just have to make it up to me by spending an hour at the rink or the garage with me.โ You laughed, not even thinking that that sounded all that bad. You figured now was your chance to ask what you had been wondering since he had originally asked you to hang out.
โI hope this doesnโt make this awkward, but, was today a date?โ Johnโs face was solemn, scaring you into thinking that you had offended him in some way.
โI thought it was, yeah. But if you didnโt think so-โ
โNo, no, itโs not that!โ you blurted out before he could finish. โI was hoping it was and just didnโt want to call it one in case I accidentally got my hopes up.โ John gave a small smile at your confession.
โAnd, was it everything you wanted it to be?โ he asked almost shyly.
โEven more so.โ His smile grew then, causing your own to grow.
โWell, then weโll have to do this again sometime.โ
โIโd like that,โ you agreed, already eager for what the next date would entail. โI should probably get inside though. Donโt want you up too late the night before practice.โ
โEspecially not after I was forced to run a marathon,โ John joked, before quickly climbing out his door and running around to open yours for you. You thanked him again as he helped you down and onto the sidewalk, your hands lingering together for a couple seconds. โSpeaking of hockey, actually, would you want to come to our next home game? Itโs in a few days and you can bring your friends. I can get you guys free tickets.โ
โIโd love to, thanks.โ You reached the front porch before you knew it, climbing the steps and turning to face John. โAnd thank you again for today. I had a lot of fun with you.โ
โYeah, itโs no problem. I really like spending time with you too.โ He then leaned in, your breath catching in your throat as he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, his cologne engulfing your senses. He pulled away slightly, only to whisper in your ear: โI wouldโve kissed you properly if your friends werenโt watching from the window.โ He then pulled away, standing at his proper height, with a matching grin to yours. You laughed, not even feeling as if the moment had been ruined, but like everything was falling into place. Like it was all meant to be.
โI should probably go and tell them everything they wanna hear,โ you said, not actually wanting the night to end. He nodded, leaning in once again to kiss your other cheek.
โDidnโt want to leave the other cheek lonely,โ he said with a grin before turning to head down the porch steps.
โCheeseball,โ you called after him. He turned back to face you still beaming. You watched him walk back to his truck with a matching smile on your face, not yet realizing just how much your face hurt from all the smiling and laughing you had been doing since heโd picked you up. You opened the front door, waving to John as he started up his truck and waved back at you. You closed the door behind you, waiting until you heard his truck roll away and for a few moments afterwards before walking the few steps to the living room doorway to find your friends waiting with their hands in their laps and huge smiles on their faces.
a/n: the off campus obsession grabbed me by the throat and hasn't let me go yet so here's the john logan fic that's been holding me over since i watched the show last week :)
part II
word count: 4.2k
synopsis: when your car goes to shit you ask everyone you know if they know a good mechanic and end up meeting one with a smile that you can't get out of your head
~~~
You had been able to ignore the clunking sound in your car for the past two weeks by gradually turning up the volume on the radio until your eardrums were on the verge of bleeding. You knew that you had no choice but to get it looked at when the steam appeared from beneath the hood when you had started it up this morning. Terrified to drive it, you had taken the bus to campus since your roommates had already left for the day. On campus you asked everyone you knew if they knew a good mechanic who could come out to look at it.
โThe Loganโs place isnโt too far from campus and shouldnโt cost too much. You could always ask if they could send someone to check it out if you donโt want to risk driving it,โ Allie suggested when you had caught up to her in between classes.
โOh perfect, do you have their number?โ Allie swiped and typed a few things on her phone before showing it to you, a phone number displayed. You tapped it into your phoneโs keypad, mouthing a thank you to her, and walking a few steps away to make the call.
โLogan & Sons, how can we help you?โ a womanโs voice crackled through the speaker.
โHi, um, there seems to be something wrong with my car. There was some clunking for a while and then it started smoking this morning when I started it, so I was wondering if you could maybe send someone out to come check it? I could drive it in too, itโs just, yโknow, the smoking part.โ
โYeah, definitely donโt try to drive it right now. We can send someone over at around four, does that work?โ
โThatโs perfect, thanks so much.โ
After your last class, you caught the bus back to the house you shared with your roommates, making it back just in time to meet the pickup truck that pulled up in front of the house. A tall, brown-haired guy with big, dark eyes hopped down and walked around the front of the truck to meet you on the sidewalk.ย
โAre you the one who called about a smoking car?โ Up close he was even cuter than youโd originally thought. You really hoped you werenโt blushing.
โYeah, thatโs me. Iโm guessing youโre here to take a look at it?โ
โRight on.โ
โItโs the one right behind you.โ You gestured to the slightly rusty and slightly beat up grey hatchback that he had just parked in front of. He turned and gave out a low whistle as he took it in. It wasnโt necessarily a sight for sore eyes, but it had certainly seen better days, most of which you hadnโt even seen since youโd bought it used two weeks before you came out to Briar for your freshman year.
He gave it a walk around, tracing parts of it with his left hand as he looked it over.
โHow long you had this thing?โ He looked to you as he asked.
โThree years now. I bought it used.โ He nodded along.
โItโs definitely been used, you could say that again.โ He snatched a ratty looking rag from the back of his truck and clutched it in his right hand as he popped the hood open. A cloud of smoke appeared as soon as he did so, causing the both of you to cough.
โLooks like an engine problem. Itโll have to come into the shop so we can look at it there.โ He shut the hood, the rest of the car creaking as he did so.
โFuck,โ you cursed under your breath, already tallying up how much this would end up costing you. Even with the rising bus rates it would probably still be cheaper than maintaining this piece of junk. The guy looked at you, appearing to study your face.
โI can drive it to the shop for you, if you want. Itโs not too far and it should hold up,โ he suggested, catching you off guard with the offer.
โIs it even safe to drive at all?โ
โProbably not, but Iโd rather drive it than have it blow up with you in it.โ
โHow likely is it to blow up?โ
โThree percent. Maybe five.โ
โAnd whatโs your history with luck?โ
โDepends on who you ask.โ
โIโd feel really bad.โ
โAbout watching me blow up?โ
โYeah, you probably have a lot to live for, Iโd hate to be an accomplice to your life coming to an early end.โย
โAnd Iโd feel even worse if I had to watch a pretty girl blow up in her car right in front of me just because she didnโt want it to be me in that car.โ You smiled and looked away at the compliment. โItโs a five minute drive. I can manage.โ You sighed, running your hand through your hair as you looked up to see him opening the driverโs side door and begin to climb in. Before you knew it, you were climbing into the passenger seat beside him. He looked at you with what you admitted to yourself was a really cute smile as he clicked his seatbelt into place.
โAre we making a suicide pact here?โ
โHopefully not,โ you sighed, fishing something out of your backpack on your lap. โBut, you probably need these,โ the keys to the car dangled from your hand.
โActually no, those are irrelevant,โ he deadpanned, taking them from you and turning them in the ignition. You held your breath as the engine coughed to life, more smoke leaking from under the hood. You clutched the โholy-shitโ handle as if it might actually save you if the car were to blow up, which was seeming like more and more of a possibility.
โAre you sure this is safe?โ You couldnโt tear your eyes from the gray smoke coming from the front of the car, as he began to reverse out of the spot.
โItโll make it to the shop.โ
โYou didnโt actually answer the question.โ He glanced over at you as he shifted the car to drive.
โWhat? You donโt trust the complete stranger you just met five minutes ago?โ
โCanโt say I do, stranger.โ He let out a short laugh as he pulled onto the street, the car so far staying together.
โSo, do you go to Briar?โ he asked moments later as he pulled up to the stop sign at the end of your street.
โYeah, Iโm a junior,โ you replied, gripping the holy-shit handle even tighter as he made a left turn.
โNo shit, me too. Whatโs your major?โ
โEnglish. You?โ
โBusiness.โ
โReally?โ He looked over at you momentarily, a smile back on his face.
โYeah, is that surprising?โ
โKinda. You donโt seem like a business guy.โ
โMust be hard to figure out someoneโs whole life path in less than fifteen minutes.โ There was a hint of amusement in his voice, letting you know that he was joking.
โEven harder, when I donโt know their name.โย
โItโs John.โ You couldnโt help the laugh that escaped your lips, which caused him to look at you with a smirk.
โOkay, business makes sense for you now.โ
โOh okay, English major and whatโs yours?โ You told him your name and he sighed.
โYeah, I canโt say that I know what would qualify as an English majorโs name anyways,โ he replied, which made you laugh again. โDo you do anything outside of school?โ
โI work at the bookstore in town.โ
โYou like it there?โ
โYeah, itโs great. Do you like working at Logan & Sons?โ
โWell, I kinda have to, considering Iโm one of the sons.โ
โAh, so youโre a nepo baby.โ John let out a low laugh.
โOh yeah. Working at the middle class mechanics shop my dad opened thirty years ago has really gotten me places.โ
โThen weโre in the same boat, โcause going with my mom to her salon job when she couldnโt afford a sitter has gotten us to the same place.โ
โWorking middle class jobs that our far more richer classmates will never have to work because they can afford to go to our school without a full-ride scholarship?โ
โExactly!โ You both laughed. You were surprised to find that you were already pulling into the Logan & Sons yard. John killed the engine, taking the keys out of the ignition and presented them to you in the palm of his hand.
โSee? Made it safe and sound.โ You took the keys from his hand, a small shock passing between the two of you as your fingers lightly grazed. โYou can hang out at the desk if you want while I take a look. It shouldnโt take too long to diagnose her.โ You tugged your backpack out behind you, figuring that you could get some homework done while you waited. You followed John around to the desk at the back of the shop and took a seat on the stool there while he rifled through a few drawers, pulling out some miscellaneous tools.
You tried really hard to focus on the homework youโd pulled from your backpack, but your eyes kept flicking towards the guy hunched over the front of your car. His arms flexed as he fiddled around within the car, causing you to put in real effort to drag your eyes away from them whenever he turned to grab a new tool. You had just done so when he fully stood, closed the hood and walked back towards you.
โSo good news,โ he started, wiping his hands on a rag he had procured from somewhere. โI can fix her up. Bad news is Iโll need a few days to do it.โ You nodded along, internally crying at how much your carโs stay at the shop would probably end up costing you.
โGreat, thanks.โ You stood, beginning to pack your backpack and mentally trying to figure out when the next bus would be.
โI can give you a ride back to your place.โ John announced, tapping his hands on the desk.
โOh, thatโs okay. Youโve already done more than enough for me, honestly,โ you waved him off, not wanting to take up any more of his time.
โI actually need to grab my truck,โ he said with a small smile. โSo too bad.โ
โAlright, I guess I donโt get a choice then,โ you replied with a matching smile.
โHang tight, Iโll be right back.โ He walked past you on his way to the staff room located behind you, a whiff of his - what you could only describe as intoxicating - cologne surpassed the overwhelming smell of motor oil and grease of the workshop. He emerged from the room a minute later with another person following behind him.
โJules here is gonna drive us back to yours so I can get my truck, if thatโs okay.โ
โYeah, of course.โ The drive back to your house passed practically the same as the drive to the shop had, this time with Jules asking you the questions about your job and studies, intercepted with your directions on where they should turn. You thanked Jules once they had pulled to a stop behind Johnโs pickup, both you and John climbing out of the car.ย
โYโknow I was gonna say that Iโll give you a call once Iโm done with your car, but I realized I donโt have your number.โ John noted once Jules had pulled away back towards the shop, holding out his phone in your direction.
โWell, that wouldโve just made your job that much harder, wouldnโt it?โ You joked back, taking his phone and creating your own contact. You typed in your number and nicknamed yourself โenglish major๐โ before handing it back to him. He smirked as he read it, typing something in himself before returning the phone to his back pocket. Your own phone buzzed with a new notification. Taking it out of your pocket to see that you had received a text from an unsaved number that read ยดbusiness major john๐.โ You laughed as you returned your phone to your pocket, meeting Johnโs amused doe-like eyes.ย
โThere, now your job is the slightest bit easier.โ
โThank god. Otherwise Iโd just have to show up to your house again.โ
โAnd that would just ruin my day, honestly.โ You sighed jokingly, gaining a laugh from John. โThank you again for everything, I really appreciate it.โ
โYeah, itโs no problem. Itโs actually kind of my job.โ You laughed, eyes closing momentarily and keeping you from noticing the look in Johnโs eyes as he watched you. โHey, I should get going. But Iโll keep you updated on the car and-โ he paused, one hand on the driverโs side door handle. โIf you ever need a ride anywhere just let me know.โ You thanked him again as he swung up into the truck. He flashed you that smile that youโre sure youโll never be able to get out of your head before he pulled away from the curb and onto the road, his left hand waving out his open window.
โOh, Iโm screwed,โ you thought to yourself as you turned to finally go into the house.
business major john๐: iโm thinking itโll be about five days to fix your car up btw
business major john๐: but again if you need a ride at all until itโs done just let me know
english major๐: wow do all your customers get the uber option??
business major john๐: only the english majors
english major๐: well iโm a lucky gal then
english major๐: and thank you but iโll probably just borrow my roommatesโ cars if i need :)ย
business major john๐: offer still stands for whenever :)
english major๐: youโre a hockey player?
business major john๐: maybe
business major john๐: stalking much?
english major๐: my roommate informed me actually thanks๐
business major john๐: that scare you off?
english major๐: iโm canadian if anything iโm scared in
business major john๐: so you know puck then?
english major๐: a little
business major john๐: you got a favourite team?
english major๐: will my favourite team make or break my car?
business major john๐: depends
english major๐: big oilers fan over here๐งก๐
business major john๐: woof we can work on that๐ซฉ
english major๐: and yours is??
business major john๐: bruins all day baby๐ป๐ป
english major๐: yikes
english major๐: looks like we both got some work to do
hockey boy john๐ฉ: how many packs of tissue do you need in your glove box?
oilers girl๐ฌ: iโm not paying you to snoop in my car๐คจ
hockey boy john๐ฉ: i needed to check your registration for smtg
hockey boy john๐ฉ: was definitely not snoopingโ๏ธ
oilers girl๐ฌ: uh huh iโm so sure
hockey boy john๐ฉ: still donโt trust me?๐ช
oilers girl๐ฌ: weโll see how my car turns out
tissue hoarder๐คง: is phil graham your friend garrettโs dad??
car snoop๐ซต: how are you a hockey fan at briar and only just realizing this?
tissue hoarder๐คง: why would i pay any attention to the rangers?
car snoop๐ซต: fair point
hockey snob๐ซฉ: i should be finished with your car tomorrow :)
#1 Rangers fan๐ฐ: great sounds good!
Hockey snob๐ซฉ: if you donโt wanna take the bus i can pick you up after class tomorrow and you can wait around the shop while i finish up
Hockey snob๐ซฉ: only if you want tho๐
#1 Rangers fan๐ฐ: thatโd actually be great if you could thanks!! :))
Hockey snob๐ซฉ: like i said any time :)ย
Hockey snob๐ซฉ: whereโs your last class tomorrow?
#1 Rangers fan๐ฐ: in the english building at the far west side of campus
#1 Rangers fan๐ฐ: if thatโs too far for you tho i can meet you at your last class
Hockey snob๐ซฉ: donโt even worry about it
Hockey snob๐ซฉ: see you tomorrow :)ย
#1 Rangers fan๐ฐ: see ya :))ย
Leaving your last class of the day usually presents no surprises, except for today, which featured John Logan waiting outside the English building. He didnโt notice you at first which was great as you hastily brushed your hair behind your ears as you made your way towards him. The sun was hitting him at the perfect angle, highlighting his strong features. You were luckily able to close your mouth just in time before he turned his head and met your eyes. That smile that you had in fact not been able to get out of your head for the past few days adorned his face.
โHey, Rangers fan.โ He greeted you, causing you to roll your eyes.
โDonโt say that, anyone could hear you!โ The sarcasm is clear in your voice as you hurried down the steps ahead of him. His long legs easily caught up to you, joining you stride for stride. โYou didnโt have to come down, yโknow? Your truck isnโt that hard to spot.โ
โJust in case you forgot what it looked like,โ he shrugged. While it had been a week since you had last seen each other in person, the two of you had been texting practically nonstop since then, allowing you to fall into easy conversation about how your days had been. You told him about how your classes had gone and he told you about the jokes his friends Dean and Tucker had told at practice that morning.
โYโknow you should come to a game sometime,โ John suggested as your seatbelts clicked into place almost simultaneously. โI bet youโve probably got some fun chants from back home to share with the crowd.โ
โYeah and some my dad taught me that probably wouldnโt go over well with the NCAA.โ The drive from campus to the garage was filled with talk of hockey and your families, exchanging the different ways in which you had gotten into the sport.
โMy dad always taped Oilers games, still does, and since I barely saw him during the week because of his crazy work schedule I would sit and watch them with him,โ you shared. โIโve never seen him more excited than when McDavid was drafted in 2015.โ
โThatโs like my brother when I got into Briar for hockey. Heโs the reason I started playing in the first place.โ You noticed the shift in Johnโs grip on the steering wheel at the mention of his brother. His eyes kept straight ahead at the road so you couldnโt be sure, but you had a feeling that there was something about his relationship with his brother and hockey that was a touchy subject.
โAre you two close?โ He looked over at you, almost taken aback, as if you had taken him out of a trance.
โYeah, sorta. Our parents werenโt really around so we kinda had to fend for ourselves. Take care of Jules and each other. We bonded over that stuff.โ He cleared his throat after sharing, as if airing out his relationship with his siblings had dislodged something for him.
โSounds like you guys really care for each other.โ The ends of his mouth quirked up in that smirk youโd come to memorize.
โYeah, I guess so.โ
As Johnโs truck pulled into the Logan & Sons lot you noticed that your car had been moved to a different spot since youโd brought it in a week ago.
โI wouldnโt let anyone else work on it so my brother told me to move it so he could still take on new clients,โ John explained, noticing my confusion.
โOh, you didnโt have to do it all yourself, I wouldnโt have cared if someone else had worked on it.โ
โI wouldโve.โ John climbed out of the truck, leaving you dumbfounded in the passenger seat. Shaking yourself out of it, you followed him out and back around to the other side of the desk in the corner of the shop. โIt shouldnโt be too long, but make yourself at home.โ Once again, you pulled a notebook and pen from your backpack, attempting to start the assignment youโd been assigned earlier today. But yet again you found yourself getting distracted by the contracting muscles in the arms of the guy working on your car. It really was embarrassing how many times you caught yourself practically drooling instead of planning out your essay.
โAll done!โ John called out about forty-five minutes later, slamming the hood closed. You had actually managed to get yourself to focus on your essay this time around and you looked up to find him dangling your car keys from his pointer finger in your direction. โWanna take it for a test drive?โ You practically ripped the keys from his finger, grinning at the idea of being able to drive your own car again instead of one of your roommatesโ. You felt almost shy as John climbed into the passenger seat beside you, your cheeks and tips of your ears going red. You twisted the key in the ignition and watched as absolutely no smoke emerged from under the hood and no clunking sound interrupted the purr of the engine.
โOh weโre so back, baby.โ John laughed at your reaction. You couldnโt help the grin on your face caused by your freshly working car and the guy in the passenger seat who you hadnโt been able to stop thinking about for the past week. You slowly pulled out of the garage, guiding your car around the side of the building and to the front of the lot. John pointed you to a spot for you to park, which you do, sighing as you shifted into park. โYou brought my girl back!โ You exclaimed, grinning at John who returned the expression. โYouโve got the magic touch, Johnny.โ
He chuckled at the nickname. โJohnny, huh?โ
โWhat no one calls you that?โ
โMy mom did when I was younger. But I like it better coming from you.โ The ease with which he expressed this caught you off guard, losing your breath momentarily. His eyes were soft and your heart softer as you shared a moment in the calm silence. You couldโve lived in these few seconds forever if it were up to you.
Back at the desk you were mentally cringing while waiting for the total price of getting your carโs engine fixed dumped on you like a bucket of cold water. Except when John told you the price it was nowhere near as much as you expected.
โWait, are you sure?โย
โOne hundred percent,โ John replied, even handing you the printed bill listing the cost of everything. โBriar students get a discount.โ You scanned the bill over and over again, making sure that he had charged you for everything. Obviously you didnโt want to pay what you had expected, but you also didnโt want to accidentally scam the guy after he had gone above and beyond for you. After having read the bill at least three times over you decided that it was real and you wouldnโt be as broke as you expected.
โAlright, I guess ring me up.โ You handed the bill back over to John who took it with a smile and began to ring up the price. When he turned the machine over to you, you made sure to leave a sizable tip.
โIf anything ever happens to it again, you have my number,โ John said, ripping your receipt from the machine. โAnd even if you ever need anything just give me a call.โ
โI definitely will. And thank you so much again. For everything, honestly, youโve been great. You should get a raise.โ
โWould you mind telling my brother that actually? He might listen to you instead of me.โ Your heart squeezed at this last joke between the two of you, the last laugh you two might share. This past week had been one of your best since coming to Briar and even though it was now the weekend, you didnโt want it to end.
โBye, Johnny.โ You turned your back on him to walk back to your car, secretly hoping that he would run up to you and ask you out, not wanting this to be your last interaction either. You looked back at him once more as you reached the driverโs side door, surprised to find his eyes were still on you. You gave him a smile and a wave, both of which he returned, before climbing in the car. As the air conditioning kicked in you caught a hint of his cologne, flipping your stomach in the best way possible. You snuck a glance at your rearview mirror as you pulled up to the stop sign at the exit to the lot, seeing that John had been joined by Jules behind the desk.
โYou know Briar students donโt get a discount, right?โ Jules asked their brother as they watched him watch your car begin to leave the lot. He looked at them with a quizzical look on his face, one eyebrow slightly raised.
โFriends and family discount, remember?โ
โDidnโt you just meet her this week?โย
โYou can become friends with someone in a week, Jules,โ John said, exasperated, escaping into the staff room behind them.
โYeahโฆyou have her number! Donโt let it go to waste!โ
Your phone had chirped on the drive from the garage to your house, but being a responsible driver you didnโt check it until you pulled into your normal parking spot on the street in front of the house and had shifted into park. You had to read the message three times to make sure that this wasnโt your delusional mind playing tricks on you and that the text from John was in fact real.
Hockey snob๐ซฉ: did you maybe want to go get coffee together some time soon whenever weโre both free?
Obviously you said yes.
~~~
a/n: this is getting turned into a series!!! so let me know if youโd like to be added to the taglist once a new part is added!!
$ log - a giddy, crushing bucky barnes spots you speaking with steve. he may or may not be jealous and gruelling from the sidelines!
$ warn --sfw --fluff --jealous-glaring!bucky --steve-is-trying-to-be-a-good-friend --you-just-wanted-answers
$ wc -w 1k
$ cd masterlist
$ vi dont-shoot-your-shot.txt (v1) dont-shoot-your-shot-v3
You find Steve in the gym, which in retrospect was a tactical error on your part. It just meant that you're both stuck there for the duration of this conversation and he's too polite to leave.
"I need to ask you something," you say, "and I need you to be honest with me."
Steve sets down his weights with careful energy; he already knows this is going to be a problem. "Okay," he says.
You tell him everything. The staring โ eleven incidents, you specify, you have a document โ the way it started at the coffee machine and then just never stopped, the elevator, the hallway, the stairs you've been taking specifically to avoid the elevator. Steve listens with his arms crossed and his face extremely neutral.
Itโs either the face of someone who has no idea what you're talking about or the face of someone who has every idea and is managing it carefully. You can't tell which, so you keep going.
Then you get to the rifle.
Steve's expression doesn't change, exactly, but something behind his eyes does a very quick calculation. "He gave you his rifle," he says.
"Five minutes before a mission. Grip first. No explanation."
"And you took it."
"What was I supposed to do, Steve?"
"No, no โ " he waves a hand, "that was the right call." He says decisively, as he is absolutely not going to elaborate on why. You let it go. You get to the shooting range.
"He asked me to go," you say, "and I went, and it was โ actually fine, it was genuinely fine, I had a good time." You pause. "But he kept smiling."
"Smiling," Steve repeats.
"Every time he hit a target, which was every time. Just โ " you make a vague gesture, " โ this small, private smile, like he was really pleased with himself, and I couldn't tell if he was showing off or warning me or โ " you stop. "Is this a competition thing? Did I accidentally start a competition?"
Steve opens his mouth, glances briefly over your shoulder, and closes it again. When he looks back at you his expression has been carefully reset to something warm and unhurried. It wouldโve been more convincing if you hadn't just watched him do it in real time.
"It's not a competition thing," he says.
"Then what is the smile?"
Across the gym, Bucky has not moved in four minutes.
He'd come in for a workout, that had been the plan. The plan had been going fine until he'd seen you cross the floor toward Steve with the specific purposeful energy. Looks like you had something serious to say. So, now the plan is on hold indefinitely because you are talking to Steve, whoโs listening with his head tilted and his full attention.
All the while, Buckyโs standing next to the punching bag he has not touched once with his arms crossed and an expression that Sam would later describe, generously, as a little intense.
He canโt exactly hear much from here, so he's not eavesdropping or anything. He just hasn't left yet. That's all.
He's simply still here, in this spot, not doing anything, watching Steve say something that makes you frown slightly and tilt your head. Heโs feeling something in his chest that he doesn't have a clean name for but sits somewhere between that should be me you're talking to and Steve, you better not be saying anything.
Steve glances over at him, pensive. Bucky does not alter his expression. Steve looks away.
"Honestly," Steve says, with the measured tone of a man picking his words like he's crossing a frozen lake, "that's justโ that's just how he looks sometimes. When he' โ " another flicker over your shoulder, barely a second, just his eyes, and then back to you, and he looks for a moment like a man sending a very urgent telegram with his face, "โ when he's comfortable. That's a comfortable expression for him."
"He looked like he was winning something."
"Heโ " Steve stops, exhales largely. "He was probably just having a good time."
"Steve."
"I genuinely believe that to be true," he says, and he does, technically, believe that to be true, which is why he's able to maintain eye contact while saying it.
He glances over your shoulder again, just for a fraction of a second, and whatever he sees there makes something in his jaw tighten. He looks back at you immediately. Smiles. It's a very good smile. He's been doing this a long time, youโre getting worried for Steve here.
"So the staring," you say. "Eleven incidents. That's justโ comfort?"
"Bucky's had aโ " Steve pauses, seems to reconsider the entire sentence, and rebuilds it from scratch. "He's still working on how he is around people. Around certain people especially." He nods slightly, just once, like he's making a point. You're not sure what the point is. "Sometimes that looks different than you'd expect."
"It looks like surveillance."
"It's not surveillance."
"How would you know?"
"Because I know him," Steve says, with a patience that is very slightly strained at the edges now, "and I'm telling you it's not surveillance." He glances over your shoulder for the third time and this time doesn't quite manage to get his expression back in order before he turns to you again. There it is โ just for a second โ something that looks almost like a man trying not to visibly panic.
You know that look. You've seen it on people right before they tell you something is directly behind you.
The gym feels very quiet all of a sudden.
"Steve," you say slowly.
"Mm," says Steve.
"He's right behind me, isn't he?"
Steve says nothing. His expression says everything. You do not turn around.
# fic inspo:
$ tag @twentytomidnight @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger
$ vi dont-shoot-your-shot.txt (v1) dont-shoot-your-shot-v3
$ log - bucky barnes has a crush on you, and he's doing his best; his best is just terrifying!
$ warn --sfw --fluff --steve-and-sam-are-shit-wingmen
$ wc -w 1.4k
$ cd masterlist
$ vi dont-shoot-your-shot-v2 dont-shoot-your-shot-v3
Somewhere between the third mission and the second month, Bucky figured out that something was different about you.
Not in a way he could name at first โ just that the noise in his head got quieter when you were around, that he'd catch himself in the middle of a debrief actually listening, because you were talking. That easy, unthinking quiet he hadn't felt in years just showed up, unprompted, in whatever room you happened to be in, and he didn't know what to do with it.
So he did what he always does: he watched, he catalogued, and he thought about it at three in the morning with the same focus he'd once applied to things that actually required it.
Steve called it a crush. Sam called it painfully obvious and immediately started offering unsolicited advice, which became its own problem entirely. Bucky called it none of their business and then spent the better part of an evening thinking about the way you laugh when you think no one's watching โ the real one, not the polite one โ and the fact that it had taken him four days to notice the difference and no time at all to memorise it.
The thing is, it's not one-sided. You're just as aware of him as he is of you. In that way you notice the shape of someone's absence before you register anything else about a room, where you find reasons to be somewhere he might be and then act surprised when it works.
You've replayed certain conversations more times than you'd like to admit, and you'd like to admit zero.
The problem was never the feeling. The problem is that Bucky, with the best intentions and absolutely no remaining social calibration, is now trying to do something about it. And you, with no context and no warning, are on the receiving end.
It goes about as well as you'd expect.
The Staring Problem
ย Avengers Tower, various locations, two weeks running.
You've been keeping a mental list with the grim focus of someone building a legal case, and it's up to eleven incidents. The evidence is circumstantial but it is consistent.
At this point you're less interested in understanding it than in figuring out at what number you escalate to Fury.
It starts at the coffee machine. You reach for the pot and when you look up he's already looking at you. Not glancing, looking โ with an expression that gives you absolutely nothing to work with. You say good morning and Bucky says nothing. You take your coffee and leave at a quicker pace that is definitely not a jog.
It happens in the elevator, the common room, and even in the hallway outside the training floor. Always the same: you look up and he's there, already watching, and he never looks away first. You've started taking the stairs.
You run through the list of possible offenses. You were loud in the kitchen once. You accidentally used his mug, but you washed it? You beat his time on the obstacle course three weeks ago, but surely that's not, surely he's not stillโ
You mention it to Natasha, very casually, purely as a logistical concern for your continued survival. She looks at you for a long moment, says "hm," and walks away. Itโs somehow the least reassuring response she could have given.
He is, for the record, not thinking about any of your eleven incidents. He is thinking about the way you laugh when you think no one's listening, and it's been living in his head for three days, and he has absolutely no idea what to do about that.
The Rifleย
Pre-mission briefing, loading bay, five minutes before wheels up
You're running through your gear check with a focus that has nothing to do with the gear and everything to do with the fact that Bucky has been watching you for two weeks and you are no closer to understanding why.
Especially when he appears at your left shoulder without sound and holds out his rifle like that's something people do.
You take it, obviously you do. You don't know what else to do. He gives a single nod and walks away to the quinjet like he hasn't just handed you something that costs more than your apartment and is probably also somehow an heirloom.
You hold it for the entire mission like it's a live grenade. You make every shot count. You are not going to be the person who scratched Bucky Barnes' rifle and lived to tell about it.
Your shots are, objectively, incredible. You don't register that at the time because you are too busy being careful.
He watches your form from across the ridge with an expression nobody else would clock as anything. Sam clocks it, filing it away.
You hand it back after debrief, two-handed, like returning something sacred. He takes it one-handed, casual, and there's something around his eyes that might be โ you don't finish that thought. You go to your debrief, trying not to seem scared shitless.
"We Should Shoot Together"
Post-mission corridor, still in tactical gear, he has clearly been waiting
You're tired in the specific way that comes from twelve hours of sustained adrenaline, and you want a shower and about eight hours of not thinking about anything, which is why it's particularly unfortunate timing when Bucky falls into step beside you. Heโs got that calm, unhurried energy of someone who has made a decision and is simply waiting for the moment to be right.
He stops walking. You stop walking. He looks at you with the full weight of his complete attention and says, completely evenly: "Your shots were incredible out there."
You say thank you and mean it and wait for the other shoe.
"Use my rifle next time." You think about the last time. You think about how carefully you held it. So, you wonder if your performance didn't meet the standard and this is somehow a test.
"We should shoot together." He says it like it's a normal sentence, like those words in that order constitute a fun activity and not what your nervous system has just interpreted them as โ a proposal, a hunt, prey selected.
He turns and walks away. And here is the thing, the thing that keeps you up later: he's smiling. Small, private, to himself. The smile of a man who just executed a plan perfectly.
He has, in his own assessment, just asked you out. It went great. You are currently reconsidering whether your go-bag is packed.
The Smile
Common room, the morning after Sam and Steve got involved
You have faced things that scared you โ real things, things with actual stakes โ and come out fine, which is why it's genuinely surprising that you're standing in the kitchen at eight in the morning holding a piece of toast and feeling, for reasons you cannot immediately articulate, like something is deeply wrong.
Sam and Steve, well-meaning and catastrophic in equal measure, pulled him aside the previous evening. The conversation reportedly involved the phrase "just smile more, it makes you seem approachable." Steve demonstrated, while Sam refined it. Bucky practiced in the mirror with the focused intensity he applies to everything.
He comes in, sees you, and then โ and you will think about this for a long time โ he smiles. At you. Directly at you. It is the most deliberate, considered, technically-executed smile you have ever seen on a human face. There are too many teeth. The eyes are not involved. It lasts exactly three seconds too long.
You put down your toast.
He holds it for another beat, nods once like a mission objective completed, and leaves. You hear Steve in the hallway say "how'd it go" and Bucky say "good" with complete sincerity.
You are still standing there when Natasha comes in. She looks at your face and says "what happened." You don't have the words yet.
Twenty minutes later โ you're still in the kitchen, the toast long forgotten โ he comes back for something and doesn't see you around the corner. Someone says something from the hallway and he laughs, actually laughs, and then this smile, this real one, quiet and a little crooked and completely unguarded, just sits on his face for a moment before he schools it back.
He doesn't know you saw it. You don't know what to do with the fact that you did. You look down at your coffee.
Something has shifted and you can't quite name it yet. You're not scared anymore; that's the problem.
$ tag @twentytomidnight (@froggibus here's the horror movie in play ๐งโโ๏ธ)
$ vi dont-shoot-your-shot-v2 dont-shoot-your-shot-v3
part two
pairing: john logan x fem!reader (garrett's sister)
word count: 1.1k
trigger warnings: there is mentions at past abuse
summary: you have known john logan since you first came to briar u. he became a constant in your life, as he was a constant in your brother's life. developing a crush on him felt easy, perhaps the easiest thing that you had ever done. however john logan was two things: your brothers best friend, and plainly not interested in you. at least, you don't think he is? it's easy to pass off the flirting and lingering stares as it simply being who he was. was it though? or was there something more.
author note: this is my first fic, and writing logan so please be kind to me & let me know if u have any notes!! this is just a lil short as it's kinda like the beginning & i wanted to see if it was something that people would be interested in!!
โนโหโง๏ธตโฟโเญจแฐเญงโโฟ๏ธตโงหโโนโนโหโง๏ธตโฟโเญจแฐเญงโโฟ๏ธตโงหโโนโนโหโง๏ธตโฟโเญจแฐเญงโโฟ๏ธตโงหโโนโนโห
a party at the off campus hockey house wasn't out of the norm for you. not when your brother was the captain of the hockey team, and one of the four boys who found residence in this home.
the two of you had always been close, bonded by a childhood that no one should have endured. the trauma dealt at the hand of your father being something that haunted both of you. it was also something that brought you close to each other. finding comfort in a brother that always swore to protect you.
following him to briar was easy, and blending yourself into his friend group was even easier. you were only a year younger than him, and have found yourself fully integrated after the two years spent hanging around the house, attending games, and parties. you found a best friend in his girlfriend, hannah, and a found family with everyone else that seemed to come and go from the house.
then there was him. he was different than the others. he was casually cool in a way that always left you wanting more. his smile seemed to hold this specific ability that would cause you to melt, and his voice seemed to be the perfect kind of music to your ears.
he was everything that you wanted, but you couldn't have him.
for he was your brother's best friend, and there were some lines that you knew you couldn't cross. even if you wanted to, it wasn't as if he liked you. garrett had told you what logan's type once. it was a off-handed remark as the two of you watched him flirt with someone who definitely wasn't that type. you learned enough to realize that you also were not his type.
even if you were, would it matter?
you cast the thoughts aside every time that you have, refusing to let youself believe in a world in which john logan could ever like you. it was easier that way. easier to talk yourself down from any hope that lingered in your chest when his words came off as a little bit too flirty, or when he smiled in your direction for a little too long. all things that you convinced yourself had to mean nothing, because that was easier than believe that it would ever mean something.
tonight was another of those nights where you had to convince that it was all just him being him. when he lingered by your side a little too long as a freshman on the team drunkenly tried to flirt with you. when he smiled at you from across the room eyes lifting from the girl that was in front of him to meet yours. when he laughed at your jokes that was simply not that funny.
it all meant nothing, you swore on that.
then the party dwindles. people filter out, the other guys end up in their rooms with their girlfriends or some girl they picked for the night. it was just you and logan, sitting on the couch as you both finish a beer. "did you see that freshman who didn't realize that hannah was garrett's girlfriend?," you ask, a smile on your face as his eyebrows arch up in curiosity, "the look on his face when garrett came up? that was nearly priceless."
"was it the same one that flirted with you?," he asks then, the words coming out a bit unprompted. enough to the point that it catches you off guard. there is a smirk on his face, something that feels a bit more mischievous than it should.
you laugh awkwardly then before taking another drink from your beer bottle, "it wasn't," you admit sheepishly, "that one didn't seem to have eyes for anyone else." it was kinda nice to have someone look at you that way. someone who was so enamored by you that he followed you around like a puppy desperate for your attention.
the smirk on his face fades then, and his elbow props up on the back of the couch, arm slanted up so that his head can rest against his hand. there is a moment of silence that passes between you as he takes you in. there is an unsettled feeling that settles into your stomach as you become abruptly aware of being under his gaze. "why didn't you leave with him then?," he asks, words lacking any sort of teasing
you laugh then, but it comes out awkwardly. a hand runs through your hair, pushing it back out of your face as you look at him. "just because he didn't have eyes for anyone else, doesn't mean that i didn't," you admit, a smile teasing at the corner of your lips.
his eyebrows furrow for a moment, and he is almost too quick to ask, "who else do you have eyes for?"
you become acutely aware of the alcohol in your system then. how it tingles your senses and blurs the edges of your mind. it seems to lower your ability to think properly. the walls that you normally have up around him beginning to crumble under his gaze, "don't you know?," the words come out without much thought.
the moment that the words are out, you feel embarrassed by them. by the hint of a confession, and the smile on his face seems to hint at the fact that he does know. there is a heat that floods your cheeks the longer than he smiles at you, and the longer that the silence seems to draw out between you.
you move to take another drink from your beer, suddenly wishing it would empty itself and you could claim that you were to call a cab to take you home. wishing that you could be removed from the conversation.
another second ticks by, and your eyes have to advert from his. you think it would be easier to endure if you weren't looking at him.
you take another drink from your beer, finishing it at last. "i should go," you say at last, an awkward laugh tagging onto the end of your words, "i have a study group in the morning, and it's already getting so late."
then his hand reaches out to yours, and that smirk of his seems to be dripping with charisma, "or you could stay." the words make your heart skip a beat then, and it's almost as if he can tell. that smirk on his face nearly implies that he can. "and we could talk about that person that you have eyes for?"
shit. he definitely knows.
You woke in the narrow confines of your off-campus apartment, sunlight filtering through the gauzy curtains you had chosen for your ethereal quality, casting the room in a forgiving glow. It made even the cluttered stacks of dog-eared novels and half-finished linguistics notes feel like the opening chapter of some delightful, meandering adventure.
Humming a barely remembered tune, you padded across the creaky floorboards in oversized socks, brewing a cup of early grey while mentally rehearsing your seminar presentation on the fluidity of emotional lexicons in modern prose. Your reflection in the bathroom mirror earned an approving wink.
Not bad.
You gathered your scattered belongings, laptop brimming with annotations, textbooks, and stepped out into the crisp air.
The drive started splendidly, windows cracked to let in the breeze that carried hints of blooming lilacs and distant lawnmowers. The old sedan had its quirks, unreliable but endearing. It had faithfully ferried you through countless late-night library runs and spontaneous road trips-
Today, though, as you turned onto the quieter residential street shortcutting toward Briar University, the engine began to falter. A sputter here, a hesitant cough there.
You coaxed it gently at first, patting the dashboard like a finicky old friend.
โCome now. Donโt do this to me."
But fate, ever the mischievous author, had other plans.
The car gave one final, theatrical shudder and fell silent altogether, coasting to a stop along the curb of a tree-lined street dotted with handsome houses. You simply sat there, blinking at the dashboard as if it might apologize and restart on its own.
No. No, no, no. You had a presentation. You could not afford to be the girl whose car died dramatically on the side of the road.
A disbelief bubble of laughter escaped your lips first before the frustration took its place. You turned the key again and again, the clicks mocking you with their empty rhythm.
โYou gotta be kidding me,โ You groaned, leaning back against the headrest with a dramatic sigh that bordered on theatrical.
Your phone battery hovered at a precarious twenty percent, and the campus still beckoned from beyond the next hill, you allowed yourself a few minutes to simply feel itโthe absurdity of the situation.
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes from that overwhelming rush of โwhy me, right now?โ blended with a strange amusement at your own misfortune. You rested your forehead against the steering wheel.
The street around your felt curiously serene, those large houses suggesting a lively collegiate ecosystem you rarely brushed agains.
You could handle this. Call for assistance, transform the delay into an opportunity for people-watching or jotting down observations.
Before you could reach for your phone to summon roadside assistanceโbattery be damnedโa knock sounded against the driverโs side window.
It made you jump so hard your knee slammed into the steering column.
โJesus fucking Christ!โ The words flew out of your mouth as you whipped your head around, eyes wide, one hand pressed to your chest as if that would calm the adrenaline surge. โWhat the actual fuckโโ
Your heart was executing a fluttering pirouette as you swiped at your cheeks and smoothed the stray tendrils of hair framing your face.
Through the glass, a tall figure loomed, broad-shouldered and casually commanding, with a backward baseball cap taming dark, slightly tousled hair. Striking doe brown eyes met yours directly, carrying a blend of concern and easy amusement.
He wore a faded hoodie, the sleeves pushed up to reveal forearms corded from what you could only assume were hockey drills.
John Logan of all people.
He looked a little startled by your reaction but raised his hands slightly, trying not to spook you further. Even in your rattled state you registered that he was stupidly attractive up close.
Oh my god, he saw the forehead-on-wheel moment.
You cracked the window an inch, catching your breath.
โSorryโshit, you scared the hell out of me. I didnโt hear you coming at all.โ
He blinked at you, those striking eyes narrowing in concern and what looked like amusement.
Youโd seen him around campus before, usually surrounded by the rest of the hockey crowd, but never this near.
Never while you were mid-meltdown with tear tracks probably still visible on your cheeks.
โNo worries. Didnโt mean to give you a cardiac event."
You let out a watery giggle, trying to slow your racing pulse.
โThatโsโฆ an apt nomenclature for it.โ You immediately winced, heat rushing to your face. โI meanโyeah. It just died. Stopped working. Sorry."
Loganโs eyebrows rose, that half-smile deepening as he tilted his head.
โNomenclature? Damn. You okay if I take a look, or do you want me to call it something fancier first?โ
"...Take a look?"
Logan's grin twitched. "Yeah."
"At the car?"
"That's generally what breaks down."
"Right, but..." You frowned. "Why?"
For the first time, he looked genuinely confused.
"Because it stopped running?"
"No, I understand the sequence of events. Car dies. Tragic. Very moving." You pointed at him. "I'm asking whyย youย are volunteering."
His eyebrows climbed. "Why?"
"You're a hockey player."
"Okay?"
"That's all I've got."
"That's all you've got?"
"And you're in some of my general education classes." You shrugged helplessly. "But none of that screams automotive expertise."
Logan stared at you for a second before shaking his head. โThatโs not usually a disqualification for basic car knowledge. Pop the hood."
"Are you sure?"
"Trust me."
"People who say 'trust me' are statistically responsible for a significant percentage of bad decisions."
He leaned one forearm on the roof of your car, ducking to meet your eyes better through the cracked window. "Pop. The hood."
You hesitated. "Do you know what you're doing?"
"Yes."
"Actually?"
"Yes."
You narrowed your eyes playfully. "Or in the way every guy who has watched three YouTube videos suddenly thinks he can rebuild an engine?"
Logan laughed outright.
"I know what I'm doing. Iโve been fixing cars since I could walk."
You hesitated, biting your lip as you searched his face.
โIf you break it more, Iโm going to cry in front of you, and that would be the ultimate humiliation.โ
His expression softened, the cocky smirk becoming gentler.
โI wonโt break it. Are you gonna keep interrogating me while your car stays dead?โ
You let out a defeated huff, reaching down to pull the hood release.
โSorry. Yes, please. That would be incredibly helpful."
Logan gave you a quick, reassuring nod.
โNo problem. Sit tight.โ
He moved to the front of the car as you watched through the windshield. He lifted the hood and propped it open as the morning light poured over himโfaded hoodie stretched across a strong back, sleeves shoved up to reveal corded forearms dusted with faint scars and engine grease already smudging his skin.
The backward cap shadowed his eyes, but the sharp line of his jaw and the focused set of his mouth were impossible to ignore.
Oh. You swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of the warmth blooming in your body.
That wasโฆ that was a fine man.
You hadn't voluntarily noticed a man in monthsโpossibly yearsโand yet here you were, cataloging the exact width of his shoulders as if you were annotating a particularly attractive stanza.
Logan leaned over the hood, one hand braced on the frame as he studied the engine bay. His brow furrowed in concentration, a small frown of thought crossed his face as he reached in and touched something, his fingers moving with surprising dexterity.
He looked completely in his element
You pressed your cool fingers to your flushed cheeks, trying to will the warmth away. Thank God he was completely focused on the engine and not looking at you right now. If those doe-brown eyes turned your way while you were blushing, youโd probably dissolve into the driverโs seat.
You would not get flushed over random hockey players who looked like they could carry both the heroine and the entire third-act climax without breaking a sweat.
You moved in your seat, pretending to check your phone even though the battery warning was glaring at you. Anything to keep from openly ogling the hockey player currently saving your morning.
After a minute, Logan straightened, still leaning over the engine.
โLooks like your alternator belt is shot,โ he called out, voice muffled by the hood. โItโs pretty frayed. Thatโs why she died on you.โ
You leaned toward the open window, trying to sound normal. โAlternator belt, right."
He let out a low chuckle and wiped his hands on his hoodie, finally glancing over the hood at you. Your eyes met for a brief second, and your stomach performed an unflattering somersault worthy of a Brontรซ heroine.
Abort. Abort. Maintain dignity.
โWant me to call a buddy?โ he offered, โHeโs got a shop nearby. Could tow it and fix it cheaply. Save you the drama.โ
You stared at him, equal parts grateful and mortified.
โYou really donโt have to do all that,โ you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear in a futile attempt at composure. โYouโve already done more than enough."
Loganโs grin returned, crooked and far too charming.
โI donโt mind." He pulled his phone from his back pocket, thumbs moving across the screen. โHe owes me a favor anyway. Iโll have him swing by with the tow truck. Shouldnโt take long.โ
You hesitated, pride and practicality wrestling in your chest. The seminar clock was ticking louder by the second.
"Iโm not trying to be a charity case for the Briar hockey team.โ
Logan glanced up from his phone, one eyebrow arched. โDid I say anything about charity?โ
โNo, butโฆ you have that helpful-athlete vibe. Itโs suspicious.โ
โSuspicious,โ he repeated, entertained. He leaned against the side of your car, arms crossed over his broad chest, the faded hoodie pulling tight across his shoulders. โYou always this cynical?"
You looked away, pretending to check the time on your dying phone.
โIโ linguistics major. Weโre trained to question everything. Especially smooth-talking men with tool knowledge.โ
Loganโs smile widened dangerously. โSmooth-talking. Iโll take it.โ
You groaned, covering your face with both hands for a second. โIโm going to stop speaking now.โ
โItโs cute.โ
Before you could spiral about his casual comment, he pushed off the car. โYou got somewhere to be, right?โ
โSeminar. Iโm presenting.โ You winced.
โTell you what,โ he said, tilting his head toward the row of pretty houses across the street. โMy place is right there. The third one with the shitty basketball hoop out front. You can wait inside, charge your phone, and grab some coffee. No pressure.โ
You stared at him.
He shrugged, almost boyish despite the six-foot-something of pure athletic competence. โOr you can sit here and stress. Your call.โ
The logical part of your brain screamed stranger danger. The rest of youโthe part currently cataloguing the way his forearms flexed when he crossed them againโvoted yes immediately.
You hesitated, fingers tightening on the strap of your bag.
โI appreciate the offer, butโฆ I donโt know. I can wait out here. I donโt want to impose.โ
Logan kept his respectful distance.
โI get it. Random guy invites you into his house after your car dies? Sounds like the opening to every cautionary tale your mom ever told you.โ
You let out a surprised laugh, and some of the tension in your shoulders eased.
He continued, rubbing the back of his neck in a boyish way that somehow made him even more disarming.
โBut hereโs the truth: itโs just me and three other idiots right now. Oneโs in class, the others are probably still passed out. The door stays unlocked the whole time. You can leave whenever you want.โ
He shrugged, that half-smile softening into something sheepish. You searched his face. There was no pushiness or over-the-top flirting. He seemed like a genuinely decent guy.
You exhaled slowly.
โOkay. Yeah. That sounds really nice. Thank you.โ
Loganโs smile brightened, but he didnโt make a big deal out of your acceptance, simply nodding toward the third house across the street.
โCool. Cโmon.โ
That was your cue. You finally pushed open the car door and stepped out into the crisp morning air, slinging your bag and laptop over your shoulder. Logan waited patiently on the sidewalk, hands back in his hoodie pockets.
He kept pace beside you as you crossed the tree-lined street, maintaining a polite distanceโclose enough to talk comfortably, but never crowding. The morning sun filtered through the leaves, catching on his backward cap. You tried (and mostly failed) not to notice how good he looked doing absolutely nothing.
As you reached the steps of the third house, he unlocked the door and held it open for you with an easy gesture.
โAfter you. Fair warning, itโs a hockey house."
The place was surprisingly livable, with a worn couch, a decent kitchen, and a living room that smelled like fresh coffee and laundry.
Nothing smelled bad or screamed โfrat hell.โ It feltโฆ normal.
Logan moved into the kitchen, โPhone chargerโs right there on the counter if you need it. Help yourself. Coffeeโs still hot, I made it before my run.โ
He poured you a mug without asking twice and slid it across the island, black and simple. Then he stepped back, giving you plenty of space as he leaned against the opposite counter.
You wrapped your hands around the warm mug, feeling the last of your nerves settle. You took a sip of coffe purely to avoid looking at him.
Unfortunately, that only gave you more time to be aware of him. The problem wasn't that Logan was attractive, plenty of people were attractive.
The problem was that he was sitting three feet away from you, looking unfairly good while doing absolutely nothing.
"So."
You were busy trying not to stare at his forearms, a losing battle, if you were being honest. Your gaze darted away the second you realized where it had landed.
You looked up cautiously.
"So," you echoed.
A corner of his mouth twitched. "You know who I am."
You nearly choked on your coffee. "What?"
"You knew I played hockey before I said anything."
"Oh."
"That means you know my name."
"Yes."
The realization hit him at the exact same time it hit you. You knew his name, that he played hockey, that he lived in this house. You knew his teammates' names and that he'd scored twice in the championship game last year because half the campus wouldn't shut up about it.
Meanwhileโ
You had never actually introduced yourself.
"But I don't know yours."
A horrified sound escaped your throat, causing Logan to bark out a laugh. "Holy shit."
You groaned. "Oh no."
"There it is," he said.
"There what is?"
"The look."
"What look?"
"The one where you realize something embarrassing."
You covered your face, pointing at him from behind your hands.
"You also never introduced yourself!"
His eyebrows lifted. "I didn't think I had to."
You could tell by his face that it hadn't occurred to him that an introduction was necessary because you'd already known exactly who he was.
Which should have been annoying.
You snorted, "That's a crazy thing to say."
Normally, it would've driven you insane.
Male athletes had a very specific brand of confidence that usually made your eyes twitch. Half of them on campus walked around like they were personally responsible for the invention of oxygen. Every conversation somehow circled back to their stats, their workouts, their game schedule, their importance to society.
You typically found it exhausting and pretentious. Yet somehowโ
"It is?"
When Logan said it, it didn't sound like ego. It sounded like confidence.
Your brain should have filed him neatly into the same category as every other cocky athlete you'd met. Instead, your brain had apparently decided: this one's hot.
To save yourself, you gave him your name.
"That's a pretty name."
The compliment was such a ridiculously low bar that you hated yourself a little for getting flustered for the millionth time. Then again, the bar for men was historically buried somewhere beneath the Earth's crust.
You murmured a thank you into your coffee mug before your dignity could stage a protest.
Logan's grin widened. "You're a linguistics major, right?"
You blinked. "How do you know that?"
"You said it."
"Oh, right."
His smile somehow got bigger. "Oh?"
"I say a lot of things."
"I noticed."
Wonderful, you were being perceived. You hated being perceived, especially by attractive men who seemed to find your awkwardness entertaining instead of alarming.
Logan took another sip of coffee, still watching you over the rim of the mug. "Emotional lexicons."
"What?"
"That's what you were talking about when I walked up."
"Oh my God."
"What?"
"You heard me talking to myself."
A laugh escaped him and it sounded so nice it made it impossible not to smile back.
"You were sitting alone in a dead car arguing with your steering wheel."
You groaned so hard your soul nearly left your body. "Please stop."
"Wait," he said suddenly. His eyebrows pulled together. "What is your presentation about?"
You lowered your hands. "Linguistics."
"That's not an answer."
"It is technically an answer."
"No."
You laughed. "No?"
"No."
He pointed at you. "What specifically?"
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn't stop smiling.
"The fluidity of emotional language in modern literature."
"Okay, say that again but like you're explaining it to a normal person."
"Wow. That was rude."
"It was honest." He looked genuinely curious.
You'd spent years explaining your major to people whose eyes glazed over halfway through the first sentence. Usually the conversation went:
What's your major?
Linguistics.
Oh cool. How many languages do you speak?
And then you had to spend ten minutes explaining that linguistics wasn't actually the study of learning languages.
You shifted on your stool. "It's basically about how people use language to communicate emotions."
His expression sharpened. "Like psychology?"
"Adjacent."
"English?"
"Adjacent."
"Made-up word science?"
"That one hurt."
His grin appeared immediately. "So basically yes."
You shook your head.
"I study how people choose words. Why certain phrases become popular. Why language changes. Why different people communicate emotions differently."
The sincerity caught you off guard. Everything about this man kept catching you off guard because you expected hockey-player responses, the typical disinterest.
Logan rested his forearms on the kitchen island. "So what do you wanna do with that?"
You srunched your nose in reply.
"What?" His forehead creased.
Somehow, you'd gone from talking about your dead car to discussing your future plans with a man you'd known for less than an hour, which felt oddly intimate.
You shrugged, tracing the rim of your mug with a fingertip as if the ceramic held the answers to your entire post-grad existential spiral.
โIโm not entirely sure yet,โ you admitted, the words tasting surprisingly honest on your tongue. โPart of me wants to chase a PhDโdissect semantic shifts in emotional discourse across cultures, maybe publish something. The other part wants to teach, or write, orโฆ I donโt know, help people find better ways to say the things they feel.โ
Logan listened without that glazed, polite detachment youโd come to expect from most guys. His doe-brown eyes stayed on you, turning your words over in his mind instead of waiting for his turn to speak.
โThat sounds important,โ he said after a beat. โPeople suck at saying what they mean. Especially the important shit.โ He gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. โIโm better at hitting a puck than hitting the right words most days.โ
You smiled into your coffee, warmth blooming somewhere behind your ribs that had nothing to do with the caffeine. Heโs not performing humility, your brain noted.
โYou seem pretty articulate for someone who allegedly only speaks hockey,โ you teased lightly.
โGive me twenty minutes and Iโll run out of big words. I save my limited vocabulary for important stuff. Like convincing pretty linguistics majors not to cry over dead alternator belts.โ
Your cheeks heated instantly. Abort. Do not catalog the way he said โprettyโ. You were level-headed enough to know this was probably standard charming-athlete protocol, but your traitorous heart did not.
โFlattery wonโt fix my car,โ you said, aiming for dry.
โWasnโt flattery,โ he replied simply, shrugging one broad shoulder. โJust stating facts.โ
Oh no. Heโs lethal.
Before you could spiral further into semantic analysis of that particular sentence, the low rumble of a tow truck sounded from outside.
Logan glanced toward the window. โThatโll be my buddy. Iโll go talk to him real quickโmake sure he doesnโt overcharge you or anything.โ
You nodded, watching as he headed out. The second the door clicked shut behind him, you let out a long, shaky breath and pressed your forehead against the cool kitchen island.
Get it together. You are a grown woman with a working knowledge of twelve linguistic frameworks. You are not going to develop heart palpitations because a hockey player has kind eyes and competent forearms.
Logan returned a few minutes later, wiping his hands on a dish towel.
โAll set. Heโll tow it to his shop, replace the belt, and text you when itโs ready. Gave him my number as backup so youโre not stuck if anything goes sideways.โ
You stared at him, gratitude and disbelief filling your chest. โLoganโฆ seriously. Thank you so much."
Your phone buzzed on the counter, still low battery, but enough life left to show a text from your seminar group chat asking where you were.
Shit.
โI should get to campus,โ you said reluctantly. โIโm already cutting it close.โ
Logan straightened. โI can drive you. My truckโs out back. No big deal.โ
You opened your mouth to protestโstranger danger, independence, etc.โbut the offer felt so uncomplicated coming from him.
โIf youโre sure,โ you said carefully.
โPositive.โ
The drive to campus was just as effortless as the conversation in his kitchen. Windows down, September air rushing through the cab, a quiet indie playlist humming low. You talked about everything and nothingโhis upcoming hockey season, your hatred of semicolons in academic writing, the absurdity of off-campus parking.
By the time he pulled up near the humanities building, you felt giddy, a fizzy feeling you hadnโt experienced with a guy in years.
โThanks again,โ you said, unbuckling. โFor everything. I owe you one. Seriously.โ
Logan rested his wrist on the steering wheel, looking over at you with those warm brown eyes.
โYou donโt owe me anything. But if you wanted to grab coffee sometimeโwhen your carโs not actively trying to ruin your lifeโI wouldnโt say no.โ
Your stomach did that stupid Brontรซ somersault again.
โYeah,โ you said, smiling before you could overthink it. โIโd like that.โ
A soft, slow-burn romcom about a girl who makes everything feel alive, a boy who fixes things because it is easier than saying how he feels, and the cherry-red Chevy that started it all.
