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roger-that-cap · 7 months

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delicate

bradley bradshaw x fem!reader

warnings: cheating (it’s not bradley who does it but it is on the reader), slight emotional cheating, alcohol use, uh that’s it really! unedited as always!

word count: 4.4k

summary: bradley bradshaw has a best friend. he is also in love with his best friend. it’s a shame that everything’s just a little too delicate to mess with.

the way that i’m actively participating in this fandom is literally so funny to me considering i swore off posting my work in any fandom in like 2022 but here we are. my obsession with the white man with the mustache cannot be thwarted by words of the past. or the man with the cute glasses. or the cocky one with the toothpick. but we’ll take it one day at a time

also this is inspired by delicate by taylor swift ofc 🤪 this is for all my lover girls/boys/friends who want hot guys to dream of them. we are cut from the same cloth and we are two sides of the same coins.

Bradley Bradshaw was an outgoing guy. He was the guy that stopped the music just so that he could put on a show of his own. He was the guy that walked in late, expected attention, and got it. He was the guy that took other people out of their shells. He was confident in a way that was endearing. He was steady on his feet and he never faltered.

Until he met you.

The first time he saw you at the Hard Deck, he was intimidated. You were having so much fun on your own with your little group, clearly civilians who ended up in a bar full of sharks in uniform. That first night, all he did was look from afar.

The second time he saw you, your group was a little smaller, but you were still sporting that same smile. He was close enough to hear you turn a few men down over the course of the night, and that was enough to throw him off again. If it was meant to be, he’d see you again, he thought to himself.

And then he saw you again.

It was the night Penny finally put a karaoke machine in the bar. Bradley managed to convince all of the squad to come, simply because he scheduled himself for at least 3 songs. So they all showed up, and just as he was about to start thinking of what his opener was going to be, the bar music stopped and the karaoke machine started playing, accompanied with girly laughter.

There you were. Standing right at the front of the room with sunglasses over your face and a mic to your lips, fighting a smile as you started a one woman rendition of “End Game” by Taylor Swift.

It was clear by the grin on your face that you were doing it purely to make your friends laugh. He watched you in awed silence, dancing all over the small space and laughing when you took a misstep.

“She’s more ballsy than even you, Bradshaw,” Hangman said, nodding up to you dancing. “Or maybe the word is obnoxious.”

“She’s so cute,” Natasha said, laughing. “I love it.”

“Big reputation, BIG reputation,” you were saying into the mic, leaning halfway over.

“I’d have to be so drunk to do that,” Bob muttered to himself, but even he couldn’t deny the guts it took to go up there even as a joke.

The song ended, and you kindly handed the mic to the man standing at the machine, a sheepish look on your face until you were surrounded by your laughing friends.

“You gonna top that, Bradshaw?” Jake asked, and then Bradley looked over at you again, still smiling.

“I’ll let the bar cool down and prepare for me,” Bradley said, still looking over at you. It was then that Jake caught him.

“Why don’t you go talk to her?”

“Huh?”

“You should talk to her,” Jake repeated, and Bradley frowned at him. “She's pretty. Looks nice enough.” There was a pause, and then that ever-mocking smirk that came to haunt everyone’s dreams. It meant Jake was up to something. “Or I will.”

So, he did. He walked up to you, thinking it couldn’t possibly be that bad. The worst thing you could do was say “no”, and he would take that in stride. He never had to before, but he would if it meant he could just talk to you. Just see.

He was walking up to you, coming from behind, and then it was like you knew he was coming, because you whipped right around. And then he caught your eyes and all he could say was, “I love your hair.”

He kicked himself in that moment, but he realized afterwards that was probably what saved him. It was a strange comment, but it was better than a sleazy one. It was probably the only reason you didn’t tell him to leave you alone right away.

“Thanks!” You looked him up and down, but it wasn’t super flirtatious- you were just looking, like you were searching for a genuine compliment to give him. You just looked so sweet. “That mustache and shirt combo is awesome. I wish I could pull off colors like you.”

And that was the story of how you and Bradley became close friends. In the beginning, he told himself that he was okay with being just friends with the pretty middle school teacher. He was totally okay with you having a boyfriend, because he was your friend, and only that. But every time he saw you smile and laugh or how passionate you were while creating your lesson plans, he couldn’t help but know that he was lying to himself.

It didn’t help that your boyfriend was a piece of shit. Originally he wasn’t one outright, it was just the little things. He walked on the wrong side of the sidewalk. Bradley witnessed him make you split the tab at the bar. He had a wandering eye. He touched you only when another man got close, almost like he was guarding a treasure rather than protecting the love of his life. It was all wrong, and it all left a sour taste in Bradley's mouth.

The sour taste only got worse when five months into knowing you, that same good for nothing boyfriend of yours got another girl pregnant.

Bradley could have sworn that he was going to get discharged for beating up an enlisted man the first time he heard the news. You were crying, bawling your eyes out over the phone in the middle of the night, crying so hard you were nearly throwing up. You told him that you were calling him because you had nowhere to go and you had to get out of your house. He didn’t blame you. In fact, he had never driven so fast.

So, you stayed at his house that night. One night turned into three, and then three nights turned into a week, and it snowballed from there. At first, it was easy to hide his feelings. You were sad, and making a move was the last thing on his mind. All he wanted was for you to feel better, and soon you eventually did. But his selfish mind almost wished that you never had, because the second you started smiling again in his house, in such close quarters to each other, he felt his resolve slipping.

He felt the words coming on the tip of his tongue every morning. You left earlier than him to go to your classroom and set up, and you always left coffee out for him. Sometimes you made his eggs if you had enough time. You made dinner more often than not, insisting on doing that if he wasn’t going to charge you for staying with him. And then you would pick the best movies and you liked the ones he picked, too. You sang in the shower and the bathroom you used always had makeup and face wash and a comb in it, but you still kept it neat. The words were close to escaping his mouth, but when he clamped his teeth down and held it in, it made that same sour taste that your boyfriend did.

That very sour taste in his mouth was there at the bar when he realized he was watching you far too often for it to be friendly. The last thing he wanted to do was make it seem like he was trying to make a move on you while you were clearly still trying to get over what your ex had done.

“You’d better get your girl, Bradshaw,” Jake drawled, and Bradley rolled his eyes.

“She’s not my girl and she’s a grown woman, she can do what she wants,” he said tiredly, his voice so monotonous that the words sounded rehearsed. He knew that all his friends knew that they were, and it seemed like everyone but you had caught on to the hopeless romantic act he was hiding.

“Well, she never drinks and she doesn’t look like she’s handling it too well.” And then Bradley’s head whipped to the side, just where he knew you were.

Just as Jake said, you were walking up to the karaoke machine, an equally drunk Natasha by your side as you looked through the selection, no doubt about to pick something obnoxious. You weren’t as alert as you usually were, and it worried him. You hated being out of it, that’s why you never drank. He walked up to you quickly, knowing that if you started a song there was no taking you away until it was over.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bradley said from behind you, and he saw your shoulders tense. “I think it’s time to wrap it up.”

“Wrap it up?” You slurred, looking up at him with those pretty eyes that always made his heart skip a beat. “Wrap it up?!” Natasha grimaced at you and then at him, already knowing exactly where it was going. “You know who didn’t wrap it up-”

“It’s okay, that’s not what he meant,” Nat rushed out, turning to look at Bradley. Natasha was one of those that could be four times over the legal limit and no one would no. He envied her in that regard. You were clearly the opposite.

“I just wanted to sing a song,” you said, poking Bradley’s firm chest. “You gonna let me sing a song, Rooster?” There was something about the way you said his callsign that had his cheeks going red. You always called him Bradley, except for when you had that one look in your eye, the one that really had him biting his tongue. “You gonna get off that perch and sing with me?”

“I think it’s time to drop you off at your place,” he assured you without even thinking, but he immediately wanted to swallow his own words when Natasha shook her head rapidly.

“I got kicked out,” you hiccuped, giving him a pointed look. “I sleep in your bed, remember?” You had no idea how much he wanted that to be true.

“Not in my bed,” he corrected quickly when Natasha’s brows shot upward. “In my house.”

“Well, you should probably take her home before she starts a song,” Nat whispered. “She was about to pick “Cowboy Casanova”, that was going to be a disaster.”

He chucked a bit as he touched your arm, his heart fluttering as you looked up at him with your pretty, expressive eyes. His laugh died in his throat. “A-are you ready?”

“Do I get a Bronco ride?”

“You sure do,” he said, and then you two were walking out in the night.

It was easy to get you in the car. You were an easy drunk, just loud. He buckled you up easily and shut the door as you started your own rendition of some Taylor Swift song you had probably told him to listen to.

After your song ended, the ride was quiet. He was happy with the quiet. He was happy because that meant he didn’t have to open his mouth to talk, which meant that he could physically roll his lips shut. Closed lips meant that there was no possibility of him saying something and fucking up a good time. But he couldn’t ignore the fact that you were grinning from ear to ear.

“You’re all smiles now,” he couldn’t help but point out, and he saw you turn towards him.

“You make me smile,” you said easily, still drunk, but it made his heart skip regardless.

Once again, the ride was quiet besides the purring of his Bronco and the occasional blinker noise. Even the music was turned down, but your head was bobbing to some imaginary beat. He couldn't help but make himself see this as a nicer moment than it really was, as a sweeter moment. In reality, he was taking you home because you were about to drunkenly sing a Carrie Underwood song that was going to have you feeling humiliated by the morning. In his mind, he was simply taking you home and making sure you got inside safely. In his mind, it was a simple night, free of drama. There was certainly no cheating boyfriend and no tears.

“What do you dream about?”

Your quiet yet certain tone broke the tension in the atmosphere of his Bronco. “What?”

And then you spoke again, somehow sounding completely sober. “What do you dream about, Bradley?”

“Uh,” he said, feeling his cheeks get a little pink. “I guess it depends.”

“Sometimes I can’t help but wonder-” a small burp escaped your lips— definitely drunk—, “do you ever dream of me?”

His heart stopped. He was so glad you were drunk. There was no way you were going to be able to remember the way he uncharacteristically stuttered or didn’t respond for a few seconds. There was no way you��d remember the flush of his cheeks under the bright light.

“W-what?”

You seemed deadly serious. “Do you ever dream of me?”

“I…” almost to his place. Almost to his place. “I think about you a lot,” he settled on saying, his voice much higher than usual.

“Thinking is nice. I can take thinking as the answer. At least thinking is on purpose,” you reasoned with yourself, seemingly to have forgotten he was even there to begin with. “But dreaming is different.”

He was intrigued. His heart was racing, and his hands felt sweaty on the steering wheel. “How so?”

“Dreaming is you being unable to escape a thought,” you said, and he wondered just how you were managing to get your point across so easily while being so smashed. “Dreaming of someone would mean that you think of them even when you’re not thinking. Your subconscious mind lies with them. It’s deeper.”

You were right. He hadn’t thought about it that way, but you were right. There were plenty of things that he swore he was over that he still had nightmares about and every time they happened, he had to face the music.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I really hope you think about me enough to see me in your dreams.”

He couldn’t say anything. What was he supposed to say? That he certainly did, and that every free moment his mind had meant that it was a free for all full of you and everything about you? Hell, he had once even thought about what your next classroom theme could be. You were that embedded into his mind.

“Wait, is it cool that I said all that?” You asked, blinking up at him slowly as the car came to a stop in your driveway. “I just get really in my head sometimes, sorry if I ruined tonight,” you said, shaking your head with a huge smile, as if you didn’t just rock his entire world in a ten minute drive. “Okay, goodnight.” And then you were jumping out of the car.

“Woah,” he called, racing around from his side and picking you up off the ground. You were laughing, clearly not aware that you had just fallen all over the cement of his driveway. You held onto his arm as he walked the both of you up to his front door, and you almost tripped on a crack in the cement.

“My keys.” You had them in your hand, and for a second, he just watched you calmly struggle with that stupid little smile on your face, like you had all the time in the world as the key kept missing the hole that it didn’t even belong to. “Maybe it’s the wrong door.”

He couldn’t help but laugh when he took the keys from you, already halfway forgetting your conversation from earlier. He held onto your keys as he unlocked his door with his own. He opened the door easily and let you in, prepared to tell you goodnight and go right to his room and try to forget the other was right on the other side of the wall, like you two had done so many times before.

“Where ya going?” Before he could even answer, you frowned at him. “You’re ditching me?”

He turned back around. “Do you need help?”

“I’m a big girl, I can take my dress off,” you said with a grin. “But I- I don’t know. I don’t wanna be alone yet.”

“Okay,” he breathed out. “Okay, you don’t have to be alone.”

And so you weren’t. He stood at the doorway of his guest bathroom, the one that had the makeup and pink towel and even a pink rug. He had given up the space to you without second thought, and as he watched you dart around in it and start to take your hair down and take your makeup off, he couldn’t help but feel his heart swell. You looked so comfortable in his house. It was all he ever wanted wrapped up in just one moment.

“Do you wanna know what broke me the most?” You asked out of the blue as you started to wipe your lipstick off, eyes connecting with his in the mirror. You took a deep breath to wind up for the next round of words even without his response. He knew that you were going to talk regardless. It was one of the things he loved about you.

“I wasn’t even sad about the fact that he cheated. I was happy.”

He was thrown on his ass again by you. You had a habit of taking his breath away more than once a day, probably once every two hours or so to be exact, but this was different. You were pulling no punches. You were throwing hand grenades in the form of words tonight, and he wasn’t even sure you were aware of it.

“It gave me an excuse to leave him. But then there was three or so moments and I realized the reason I was okay with it was because I was finally free of guilt, because the whole time I was with him- I’m an awful person,” you started sobbing and you let yourself sink to the floor, sitting on the pink rug. His brows lifted to his forehead for a split second before he went right down to the ground with you, and his hand found your skin and your back soothingly.

“You’re not a bad person, not even close.” He shook his head. You were an angel. He was genuinely convinced of that.

“I wanted you the whole time.” you slurred, eyes wide but not as present as he wanted them to be. Not while you said the exact words that he had been harboring since what felt like the beginning of time. “Almost ever since I met you. And I can’t help but feel sick when I think about how what he did is my karma.”

He was in shock. He didn’t know if he was more surprised about the fact that you were being so open about something that he was so hush-hush about, or about the fact that you said you wanted him. You wanted him. This was something out of his wildest dreams- just as you had predicted. And then he crashed back down to reality and realized you were drunk off your ass in a party dress, so fucked up that your legs were going every which way and your lipstick was smeared.

“Nothing happened, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he said quietly, ignoring the fact that his stomach felt like it was doing a Simone Biles level floor routine.

“But I would’ve,” you admitted, “if you had given me the sign.” Your bottom lip wobbled, and then you were full on sobbing. “I’m a disgusting person. Awful. Oh my god,” you whined, hands over your face as you hyperventilate on his wooden floor.

You were fucked up.

You were so gone, there was no denying that. He forced himself to let the words go in one ear and out the other, and when he took a few deep breaths of his own, he realized that you were still crying.

“You’re not a bad person, I promise.” You didn’t say anything, but after a few moments, he was sure you weren’t going to change your mind. “I think you’ll feel better if we cleaned you up.”

Your mascara was running, your lipstick was still smeared, and you kind of looked like a hot mess, but you were still gorgeous to him. You always would be. You didn’t say anything, and he took a makeup wipe from the counter and without a word started to wipe your face.

It was a silent exchange. Probably because the both of you were too scared to say much else. You let him wipe your face off and then he helped you stand. You let him take your heels off for you. He left for a few seconds and came back with some of your clothes, the nice pajamas he knew you liked to sleep in, and then started the shower and left. You were in and out.

When you were all done, he was sitting at the table. It was late, but he was drinking a beer with his back turned to you. He heard you clear your throat, and he had to stop himself from jumping.

“Goodnight,” you said quietly, and when he said it back, he heard you turn around and walk back to the room he had given you, and the door hut.

He wasn’t going to sleep well at all.

§§

It was Sunday morning. The worst morning for this situation to be happening. If it was a weekday, you would’ve already been gone, at least. He would have had the whole day to think about how to go about it. But it was Sunday morning, and neither of you went to church. You were stuck.

He didn’t expect you to be up. He knew that he could probably walk to the kitchen and be in the living room for most of the morning without you coming out. Your hangover had to be awful. So, he padded out of his bedroom, rubbing his face and going straight to the coffee pot.

That already had coffee in it.

“Hi.” His entire posture changed.

How he had entirely missed you sitting at the table, he didn’t know. But there you were, a cup of coffee in your hands and a small smile on your face.

You were beautiful. He didn’t know how you didn’t look like you were hit by a bud considering how messed up you were last night, but how could you ever? You always looked so out together and so cute. Of course you could smile with a hangover.

“Good morning,” he said, his raspy voice coming out surprised. He was looking at you cautiously, not quite sure if you remembered what happened. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a baby,” you said, now you were grinning. “It was so nice. Peaceful.” He decided that you definitely didn’t remember a thing, and he relaxed.

He ignored the wave of sadness that came with the loss of tension.

“What about you?” You asked, genuinely wondering, and he sighed. “You have any dreams?” He took a look at you from over the coffee mug he was drinking from. “You know I minored in psych, I love dreams.”

“No, no dreams,” he said, trying to shut out that whole conversation from last night. “I just can’t believe you’re waking up so… happy. Everyone but me and Bob was so drunk.”

“I had a rough night? I cried a lot, huh?” You asked, and he almost laughed in wonder. How did you not realize that he was literally in love with you? How could you forget that the words you said last night were probably the most important ones he had ever heard?

“Yeah, but it’s okay. Everyone has a rough night every once in a while. I’m surprised you don’t have a headache or anything.”

“Yeah. It’s probably canceled out because of the lack of stress I feel now,” you said, and he nodded his head when he assumed that you were talking about shedding the skin of the man that was holding you back. “It was real nice to get all that off my chest.”

He froze.

You were just drinking from your mug, making annotations in your book. He was staring at you with wide eyes as he tried to understand what to make of what you just said. “Thanks for taking my makeup off, too. That would have ruined my skin progress.”

Holy shit, you remembered everything. “What?”

You had to be playing with him. There was no other way. You finally shut your book, and then you leaned forward on your hands and looked at him with your eyes, one of his biggest weaknesses. “I meant everything I said, Bradley.”

“You remember?”

“Yeah, I always do,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. “That's why I don’t drink. I do things I normally wouldn’t but I never have the luxury of forgetting, so I always wake up embarrassed.”

Did you realize that you were holding his heart in your hands? “Are you embarrassed now?” Please don’t be embarrassed that you said those things. Please don’t be embarrassed because they’re not true. God, let it all be true.

“Only if you want nothing to do with me,” you said softly, looking at him with such vulnerability that it made his heart skip a beat.

“Are you kidding?” He finally said, and he knew then that you were right about letting the feeling lift off of his chest. “You’re in my dreams almost every night, that’s gotta count for something.”

You made the first move to get to him. He realized then that you were a master at making the first move- he had only done it once (after striking out twice) but you had done it twice in two days. And then you were all in his space, breaching it with a certain confidence that made him weak in the knees. It made him want to hold you and hold onto you.

“Almost?” you asked, and as he looked down at you from so close up, he knew what he had already suspected to be true; he was a goner. “I want every dream.”

“Who would I be to deny you?” And then he made a move of his own, kissing you and effectively tying the score 2-2.

*******

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #top gun maverick #tgm fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fluff #hell yeah mfs #surprised i’m doing all this again especially bc i’m in nursing school so very busy #but here tf i am #my fics #i was not even gonna post this i have a 9 am and it is 12:16 am #please enjoy as best as you can lmao

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medusapelagia · 6 months

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Eddie's month day 12 + Whumptober day 12

written for @eddiemonth and @whumptober-archive

Prompts: Eddie’s month 12: Soulmates | Eight - Sleeping at Last | Perceptive Whumptober 12: I haven't slept in days, but who's counting? - Red | Insomnia | “I’m up, I’m up.”

Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson WT: omegaverse, Omega Steve Harrington, Alpha Eddie Munson, Nurse Steve Harrington, violence, hospitals, medical procedures, medical inaccuracies, soulmates and soulmarks WC: 2284

"You got nice veins." the nurse tells Eddie while drawing some blood.

"Sorry?"

"Your veins. They are nice. Look how they pop out." the omega repeats, smiling at him so sweetly that Eddie has to fight with all his self-control not to pop something else right there.

"Are you worried?"

"A little." he confesses.

It's a minor surgery, everyone told him, but he is scared. He never had surgery before and he doesn't know what to expect.

"It will be fine. It's a very simple procedure and I'll be with you all the time." the nurse comforts him.

"Will you?"

The omega nurse nods "Yes. I'm in surgery today. And you are lucky I am, my partner, Robin, is not as delicate as I am. Done."

Eddie stares at his arm and sees the long needle "This is an IV access. I will remove it as soon as the doctor discharges you, ok?"

"How long?"

The nurse looks at the clock "We start at half past eight, you are the third so I think you'll be waiting for at least an hour." the omega replies, then he asks "Can you tell me where your soulmark is? It's not written on your file."

Eddie blushes, he knows that the skin around the soulmark is sensible but his soulmark is… "Oh... it's... it's on my hips. A crown."

The nurse smirks "Lucky boy, you find yourself a prince! Or is it a queen?"

Eddie shakes his head "No... I... haven't found my soulmate yet."

The nurse keeps smiling "You are young. You still have all the time in the world to find your soulmate. Some people do not even get their soulmark recorded to the register. I waited for years before registering mine. And I did it only because my family insisted. They said that it was not appropriate for an omega male to work if he was not bonded."

"So you found your match? Are they perfect for you as everyone says?" Eddie tries to take a look at the omega mating gland but it is protected by a tick collar like every omega in the hospital.

"Sadly not.” he replies “But there are a lot of people who find their soulmates by chance. Their soulmark starts to tickle when they first meet, and if they are fated mate they say it can even shine. Not that I have ever seen a shining soulmark, but you never know, right?.” he tells him while he keeps writing something on Eddie’s file “But I think that it is possible to find love even without the designated soulmate. Many people do that. I know some couples that even erase their soulmark once they bond."

"Really?"

"Of course. But I'm sure you'll find someone perfect for you, soulmark or not. Now. Here is the gown, put it on and tie it on the back, I'll call you when we are ready for you."

"Can I ask you something?"

The nurse turns, his hand still on the handle of the door "Do you have any doubt about the procedure? I could call a doctor if you need some explanations…"

Eddie blushes "No it’s… I... I'd like to ask you your name."

The nurse's smile is so bright that Eddie feels a little bit in love.

"Steve. The name is Steve."

***

When Eddie wakes up the kind omega is working at the computer.

He turns, as he could feel that Eddie is awake “Hey. How are you feeling? Are you in any pain?”

“Is it done?” he asks, still disoriented and sleepy.

“Everything is done. Now we wait for a little bit and then you can rest in your room.” The omega replies with a smile.

“Have I… have I done something stupid?”

Eddie has a very vague memory of having made a fool out of himself but he can’t really remember what happened.

“Hey, our lover boy is back! How are you feeling?” a blond nurse asks him, getting closer to his bed.

“Lover boy?” he asks, confused.

The girl's eyes shine “Don’t you remember? That’s such a pity. You made the most wonderful love declaration I have ever heard.”

“That’s because you never heard a love declaration before, Robin.” Steve mocks her.

Robin. Why is that name familiar to him?

“What… what are you talking about?”

“Oh. You promised our Steve to make him an honorable omega and to marry him soon. I think you tried to compose some kind of wedding song too.” She grins.

“Oh my god.” he roughly remembers that, now that she is pointing it out. Fuck. He proposed to his nurse in front of his partner!

“I’m sorry… I don’t know why I did it.”

“Don’t worry. It was the anesthesia. I know that you are not really attracted to me.” the omega replies.

“How no, you are definitely attractive! I just didn’t mean to make a declaration in front of your partner.”

Steve stares at him perplexed, wondering if they gave him too much medicine “Who?”

“Robin? Your partner?”

The girl starts to laugh “Oh, Romeo, I’m his partner in crime, we are not partners in real life.” she explains to him, taking his vitals “Even if our Steve is actually taken. How are the things between you and Tommy, by the way? Did he finally propose or is he still unsure between you and Carol?”

“Robin, that’s not professional!” Steve scolds her.

“Come on, lover boy here is so high he will not remember a thing.”

“I don’t care. Just stop it.”

“Ok, ok. Sorry.” she says putting a hand on Steve’s arm and the omega flinches.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Steve Joseph Harrington, show me your fucking arm right now!” she hisses, tugging him in a corner, but even from his position Eddie can see a blue bruise that looks like a hand.

“How the fuck did this happen?”

“I argued with Tommy. I forgot to pick up dry cleaning, but he was right to be angry because he had a really important meeting today and I’m the omega of the couple…”

“What the fuck! He can’t hit you because you forgot something.”

“He didn’t hit me!” Steve protests “He just… Grabbed me.”

“So hard to leave a bruise?”

The omega lowers his eyes and covers his arm “Come on. We still have three more patients and I have to bring Mr. Munson back to his room.”

The girl sighs “But don’t think that this conversation is over.”

“Yeah, yeah…” he comes back toward Eddie who stares at him with more attention, the omega’s eyes are red and tired, and he seems dead on his feet even if he keeps smiling and cheering Eddie up.

“All done. So now you rest a little and when the doctor says that everything is fine you can go back home.”

Eddie nods, but before falling asleep he thinks about the sweet tired omega.

How is it possible that he is in a relationship with someone who grabbed him so hard to hurt him?

Someone who can’t decide between him and another person?

He feels a strange burning sensation on his waist, but he falls asleep before he can point out exactly where the pain comes from.

***

A week later Eddie is back in the hospital, he still has to do a couple of exams just to be sure that everything is fine.

This time it is Robin who draws his blood and he definitely feels the difference.

“Steve is not here today?” he says.

“Still in love with him, lover boy?” she asks, changing the vials.

“I just wanted to thank him for being so kind to me.” Eddie shrugs.

“Well, I do hope he is resting somewhere. He was here all night long covering an extra shift.” she replies “But if I know him I think you will find him in the pediatric ward. That omega loves children.” she winks at him.

Eddie thinks for a long moment, and then he goes toward the pediatric ward.

As Robin anticipated, Steve is reading a fantasy book to a couple of pups.

“And that’s all for today.” he says, closing the book.

“Come on! Steve! Read us another chapter!” a red-haired girl complains, glaring at him with her blue eyes.

“Next time, Maxine.”

“It’s Max.” she states.

“Ok. Max. Tomorrow we will read another chapter, ok?”

The pup doesn't seem happy but then the other one notices Eddie and says something in Steve’s ear.

The omega lifts his eyes and smiles at him.

“Eddie. Did you come for your last check-up?”

The alpha nods, too embarrassed to speak, but the omega is kind as usual.

“You know what? Why don’t we have a coffee? God knows that I need one.”

***

The cafeteria is nothing fancy, but the coffee is hot and strong.

“That’s exactly what I need.” the omega sighs, drinking his cup of coffee with oat milk and brown sugar “I was ready to fall asleep when I was reading to the kids.” he laughs.

“Are you having trouble sleeping?”

“I’m a nurse.” Steve replies with a smile “I haven't slept in days, but who's counting? Right?”

Eddie’s inner alpha would like to take him home, helping him make a nest in his room and keep him there until he feels better.

“Robin said that you were supposed to rest.”

“Yeah, I know. But I promised Max and Dust that we would read a chapter today and I’m not going to have any free time later on so…”

Steve takes off his collar and stretches his neck “Every omega that works in the hospital has to put a collar on during his shift, you never know what could happen with some alpha patients. Sometimes they get violent and try to bite the omegas. But god if it’s uncomfortable!” He complains.

“For real?”

“Yeah. You know. Pain is a strong emotion and sometimes it takes out the instinctual part of some individuals.”

“Steve?!” someone calls and the omega turns.

For a moment Eddie sees a black mark on Steve’s neck, but then his attention is all on the alpha that is growling at the omega.

“You are such a slut.” the unknown alpha yells, throwing a paper bag at Steve “I made you a fucking sandwich! Your favorite! Because I thought you were too tired after a night shift! And you are here?! Having fun with another alpha?!”

The omega mewls “It’s not like that, Tommy, he is a patient and…”

“Is that so? I thought that you were supposed to wear a collar when you were with alpha patients! Why are you not wearing it, uh? Are you offering him yourself? Is that what you do when you are at work?!” the alpha growls, but Eddie growls back, pushing Steve behind him.

“What the fuck are you doing, man! We were just having coffee!”

“You were having a coffee with my omega!”

“I see no bite!”

“Well, this could be arranged, you know?” and then Tommy pushes Eddie away and throws himself at Steve, trying to bite his mating gland.

The omega whines, but Tommy manages to scruff him and he is almost biting Steve when Eddie punches him in the face.

After that, everything is a blur.

When Eddie comes back to his senses he is tied in a hospital bed and a policeman is sitting next to him.

“I’m Chief Hopper. Nurse Harrington told us what happened but I’d like to take your statement too.”

Eddie nods and explains to him what happened.

“The omega is not going to press charges. Are you?”

Why the fuck is he not pressing charges?!

“Everyone in the cafeteria testified that you were protecting the omega so you could press charges if you wanted to.”

There is something in the way the police officer is talking to him that makes him think that he should.

But in the end, he decides not to.

It’s Robin who comes back to discharge him a few hours later.

“How is he?”

“Steve?”

Eddie nods.

“He is resting. It was a hard day but we are understaffed and he knows that.”

“Can I see him?” he asks and Robin seems unsure, while she bites her lip, but then she gives him directions toward the room where Steve is resting.

“I’m up, I’m up!” Steve says, jumping on the bed as soon as Eddie opens the door, ready to get back to work.

“Sorry. Just me. I wanted to be sure you were ok.”

“Oh, Eddie. Hi. I’m fine. Yeah. Thanks for the help…”

“When I see fragile things, helpless things, broken things… I see something familiar.” he tells him, sitting on Steve’s cot “My parents were junkies so I lived in a trailer with my uncle. I’m no Prince Charming but I know how you should treat a person and how you should not.”

“You mean an omega.” Steve clarifies.

“You are more than your designation, Steve. And you deserve someone better than that piece of shit!”

In the dim light of the room, something is shining on Steve’s neck.

“What are you looking at?” the omega asks.

“Your neck…”

“Oh, yeah, it looks bad but it’s just my soulmark.”

“It’s shining.”

“Is it what?!” Steve gets up and runs towards the bathroom. Now that Eddie can see it better he understands exactly what that is: a guitar pick.

He lowers the waist of his pants and sees something shining too.

“Are you a prince, Steve?”

Steve turns and looks at him astonished “At… at school. They called me King Steve. To mock me.”

“Well… I’m a guitarist. And I really think that I’m your fated soulmate.”