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bettyfrommars · 5 months

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I'm on Fire

chapter 18: the ties that bind

masterlist playlist

18+ MDNI

If you've come this far in the series, you know what to expect. No physical violence in this final chapter, but there might be some jealousy, protective/jealous Eddie, and threats. Steve with an OC character, parental Stobin, unprotected sex, oral, and meeting the extended family. Can't say goodby without a glimpse of Charlene. Reader is an artist and a vegetarian, but I try hard to keep away from any physical description.

word count: 15k

official author's note will be at the end of this chapter. I cherish you, my I'm on Fire fam, I'm so grateful for the ride, and I hope you enjoy this one.

"It's a long dark highway and a thin white line Connecting baby, your heart to mine."

-- the ties that bind, Bruce Springsteen

The next morning, a new Henderson opened her eyes to the world.

Steve was the next one to hold her after her parents, and he hadn’t expected to cry, to have his throat close up around his emotions and choke him when he was told they named her Stevie. He held her so close but so gentle and he barely noticed how wet his cheeks were until Robin came close and rubbed her palm in circles on his back.

“She kinda looks like me. That’s weird right?” Steve hushed, voice catching in a tearful hiccup. He was already thinking of the tattoo he would get with her name, inside his arm, close to his heart.

“Yeah, that is weird and impossible, Dingus,” Robin smiled into his shoulder, stroking a loving arc over Stevie’s little infant forehead with her finger. “But she kinda does.”

The labor had been long, the sun was up, and everyone was exhausted. Astrid was at the house making breakfast while you and Eddie looked after Oliver. He insisted on watching Pee-Wee Herman's Big Adventure again, and that was when you learned it was one of Eddie’s favorites as well; he knew every line by heart. He mimicked Ollie with the chant, “I know you are but what am I, I know you are but what am I?”

And it was only then that you realized why Eddie had made a joke once about violently cutting off your mattress tag, the one that specifically said DO NOT REMOVE. Also, it explained why Steve so ardently wanted to start his own biker gang called Satan’s Helpers.

After breakfast, Eddie took you back to the Hammer to get your car, and even though you didn’t want to socialize, you were also in no mood to be stranded at your place without wheels. Jackie reminded you that you looked like shit on your way through the smoky haze from the late morning drinkers. You simply nodded in silent agreement, and it wasn’t so much a nod as your head lazily bobbing on a spring. Your internal clock was out of whack, and you desperately needed a shower. A shower and a soak in the healing waters of some type of magical pond that could heal you from the inside out.

Maybe a month on a beach somewhere.

And then you pictured Eddie in a pair of loud, tropical swim trunks and giggled to yourself.

You were just about to leave the locker room with your paycheck and a few of your things, when tall, blonde Erika pushed in with a concerned look on her face, making you back up. She shut the door behind her and leaned against it, covering the “Safety in the Workplace” poster.

“Hey, so, that guy is here looking for you again,” her whisper was urgent.

Your heart sank for a second as the memory of Craig gripped you. You had to remind yourself that he was long gone.

But you wondered if a part of him would always be lurking somewhere near, haunting you from beyond the grave.

Your next guess was Chief Hopper, maybe he had more questions for you.

“What guy?” You were hoping she had a clue, or asked a name, so that you could prepare yourself, doing your best to smooth out the front of your shirt.

She only shrugged. “He’s older, Paul Newman type. Smells like he’s made of money. This is the third time he’s been here asking about you.”

It still didn’t ring any bells, but you’d only slept a half hour on the couch curled up next to Eddie while Pee-Wee stormed the Alamo looking for his bike.

You took a slow peek around the corner of the bar from the hallway and saw John Gregson sitting there with a drink in his hand. Full head of salt n’ pepper hair slicked back off his face, wearing one of his signature gray suits.

Was he by himself? The way Charlene had been popping up like a bad rash lately, you almost expected to see her there, playing the dutiful wife.

You hid yourself in the hallway again, wondering if you had it in you to have a conversation with anyone, let alone him.

To say his face “lit up” when he saw you would be an understatement; He looked as if you’d been pulled from the rubble of a burning building, and he thought he would never see you again.

You found it hard to match the enthusiasm, even though he’d turned out to be a decent guy.

He stood up from his stool and Shana gave you both a curious look from behind the bar as she poured a shaken martini into a glass. She was wearing one of her long, black wigs that day with Bettie Page bangs.

“It’s good to see you,” he gestured to the seat next to him, his icy blue eyes shone like the Mediterranean Sea. “It’s been a while.”

You sank one hip onto the padded stool so that one foot was still on the ground. You didn’t want him to think you were staying for too long.

“I’m sorry I’m so behind on your painting, life has been—”

He put his hand up, palm out to you. It was his left hand and you noticed that he was not wearing his wedding ring.

“Please, don’t worry about the painting. Take all the time you need, that’s not why I’m here. Can I buy you lunch?”

“I-I…” you fumbled. “I was just on my way out.”

“A drink then?” He cleared his throat and shifted closer casually so that his knee was touching yours. He swirled his drink in his hand. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about and I didn’t feel it was appropriate to do it over the phone.”

Your anxiety spiked a bit, and it wasn’t as if he was a serial killer or anything, but his sudden shift in proximity gave you pause. You asked Shana for an iced tea and gestured for him to follow you to one of the more isolated tables against the dark red wall, underneath a framed Led Zeppelin poster. He pulled your chair out for you before getting settled with his gin and tonic, making sure to use one of the black cocktail napkins as a coaster.

“I know you’re busy,” he cleared his throat. “So, permit me to get right to the point.” He removed the two stir straws from his drink and put them on the napkin.

“First of all, I’d like to apologize for my wife. I believe she’s caused you quite a bit of trouble.”

You had not expected that one

His stare was too intense, you had to shift your attention and take a gulp of your drink.

“You see,” he settled back, keeping his forearms on the table. “I met Charlene when I was barely out of high school, we were together before I made my money, and I always felt like I owed her my blind devotion. Lately it’s obvious that we only make each other miserable.”

He continued. “I’m not a stupid man. I always knew about the other boyfriends, not that she made much of an effort to hide it,” he smiled wryly to himself. “Not to bore you with the details of my failed marriage, but I know that Charlene’s the reason you lost your job at the gallery, and I’d like to rectify that, if I can.”

Realization dawned at his words. Why hadn’t you put those pieces together earlier? Of course Charlene was the reason you lost your job, she probably threatened to remove her funding and ruin Judith.

You could barely catch up to what he was saying before he started again. “I’m opening a gallery in Chicago, and I’d like you to come out and run it.”

You choked and had to cover your mouth with the back of your hand. “Excuse me?”

John smiled so genuinely at your reaction that the skin around his eyes crinkled. He undid a button on his suit jacket to get more comfortable. “You’d have full creative license, you’d be able to hire your team, do with it what you wish. I trust your vision.”

It was that opportunity you’d been dreaming about for years, the one you’d been working toward for almost a decade.

So easy, just like that.

Here, take it, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

…but was it?

Your head swam, vision tunneling slightly as you glanced around the Velvet Hammer. You imagined Steve on his stool at the door and Eddie pulling you aside in the hallway to kiss you. The song Everlong by The Foo Fighters was on, and you thought about how Chicago was over three hours away. You’d have to move; it was much too far for a commute.

“That’s such a generous offer, I…I don’t know what to say?”

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” and before you knew what was happening, his hand slid across the table and was on top of your fingers.

Your eyes flashed to his hand over yours and you sat there shocked while your need to be polite overrode your core instincts.

“I know there’s a lot to think about,” he continued, removing his hand to cup it around his drink again. “Of course, I’d pay for all of your moving expenses. I own a building downtown with an artist loft I think you might be interested in. You’d have plenty of room to live and paint, start fresh, if you wanted to.”

Start fresh.

You felt like Shana had slipped a psychedelic into your tea, like you were melting into your chair. Your brain was having a hard time keeping up with the reality of what was being offered.

He tossed back another sip and wiped the corners of his mouth, looking almost unsure if he should say the next part. “Charlene and I—” he licked his perfectly straight teeth in contemplation. “---we’ve decided to go our separate ways. We’re selling the lake house, a few other properties, and she’s planning to move to Hawaii to be near her sister.”

A thought zipped through your mind then. How long had Charlene known she was leaving? Why would she become a partner in The Velvet Hammer and then move to Hawaii?

“That means I’ll be at my condo in Chicago most of the time, unless I’m traveling for business,” he gave you a pointed look again. “There are so many places I’d love to take you to in the city. If you are interested, that is.”

“Well,” you laughed nervously. “I’d need to talk to my boyfriend about it. About the job, I mean. Moving to Chicago. His whole life is here.”

“Certainly,” John nodded, not missing a beat. “You talk to him and when you’re ready, you have my number. The gallery space I’m buying needs work, so I’d like to fly you out there in a week to take a look at it, once you decide.”

You were still staring glassy eyed at the edge of the table after John stood and left the Hammer. You hadn’t remembered to breathe in god knew how long, so you tried that, letting out a hard exhale that made a cocktail napkin go flying off the table.

Would Eddie move with you? Visit you on the weekends? The latter seemed more likely but also not, considering how demanding his work schedule was. Katie told you that Robin had asked her to move in, and you were overjoyed for her. She’d be paying her share of the rent and utilities for the next month, but after that you’d either need to find a smaller place or a new roommate because you couldn’t afford your duplex on a Velvet Hammer salary.

One week was all you had.

Did you even need a week? Surely you knew your answer.

—-------

The tires on the tow truck screeched to a stuttering halt out on a Hawkins back road lined with cornfields.

Behind the wheel, Eddie idled there, right in front of that familiar white picket fence around the big yard and the farmhouse with a porch swing and a red barn in back.

Eddie knew the details of the old Ferguson place by heart, it had been his dream house ever since he was in high school and used to take long rides on his bike to clear his head. The couple that had spent their life raising a family there were in their 80’s now, and he’d heard through the grapevine that they were relocating to a retirement community. To a smaller place that was easier to care for. All of their children were grown and lived far away.

The newest addition to the house was where his eyes fell.

His attention fixed on the sign at the end of the driveway for a long while, heart thudding in his chest.

The old Ferguson Farmhouse was for sale.

—---

The next day was the Welcome Home Baby Stevie barbeque at Steve’s and he had a blue “Kiss the Cook” apron on and a spatula in his bandaged hand when you and Eddie arrived. He wore an elastic bracelet made of colorful plastic beads around his wrist that you assumed was a new gift from Oliver. The sky was bright blue, almost blinding, and the air was crisp.

“You sure you’re okay?” Eddie asked on the way up the driveway to Robin and Steve’s backyard where the lawn had been neatly mowed and edged. “Anything you want to talk about?”

You hated keeping things from him, but you had no idea how to bring up John’s offer, or if you even wanted to mention it. Eddie had invited you over to his place the night before, but you’d told him you needed some time alone to get to bed early. Turns out that being alone with your thoughts only made it worse.

“No, I’m fine my love, I promise,” you leaned into him. “I’m just tired.”

He put his arm around your shoulders to scoop you closer and kiss your ear. “I’m gonna take care of you tonight. Make you a bath, pour you some wine, kiss you all over. How does that sound?”

“It sounds—” you felt emotions water your eyes suddenly and you blinked it away as quickly as you could. “That sounds perfect.”

You felt guilty that you were even considering John’s offer, but how could you not? A very hopeful part of you said that both were a possibility, that you could keep Eddie and have your dream job in the city. But how? You couldn’t take Eddie away from Wayne and Oliver and his business, you would never ask that of him.

“Is Wayne coming?” You asked, noticing you did not see his truck. Also, your thoughts were racing again and you needed a distraction.

“He’ll be here later,” Eddie assured you. “Astrid is picking him up on her way over. Max and Lucas stopped by the garage for a visit and I didn’t want to disrupt the reunion.”

You felt a bit embarrassed at the mention of his longtime friend Max, only because you’d been made to believe that she was a mysterious redhead that Eddie was having an affair with not too long ago.

Thanks to Charlene.

You imagined that Hawkins would be a much better place without her lurking around every corner. Was there a chance that Judith would take you back on at Moon River Gallery? No, you had no desire to go crawling back to that place. Unless a new gallery opened, or your art took off to celebrity status, you’d be waitressing at the Hammer and squirreling away your tips for the foreseeable future.

But, you’d have Eddie.

You’d been spacing out so hard, you barely realized that Robin was standing in front of you, offering to take the sack with a Tupperware full of homemade potato salad and hamburger buns. Eddie was carrying your veggie burger patties that he bought especially for the occasion, and the fixings to make tofu skewers. You told him you were a vegetarian once, and you never had to remind him again.

“You good?” Robin asked, noting the way you shook your head a few times to come back to reality. Katie came up behind Robin to place her hands on her girlfriend’s hips before she moved over to your side.

“Have a beer with me?” Katie asked softly, reading the weariness in your slightly hunched shoulders.

It was officially fall, but the weather was warm for Indiana in late September. Eddie had on his Iron Maiden concert tee under his jacket from their 1985 World Slavery tour and black converse with his worn jeans, and he took his leather off and threw it on a lawn chair as he walked over to the grill.

“You better leave the hard stuff to me,” he said to Steve, shifting his gaze accusatory to grill. The last time he let Steve grill your veggie burger, he’d charred it within an inch of its life.

“Have at it,” Steve dusted his hands together. “I have to go check on my pie in the oven.”

“You baked a pie?” Eddie gawked at him like he had hornets crawling out of his ears.

“Well, Astrid made it,” he pinched a few sunflower seeds out of the front pocket of his apron and popped them in his mouth, chewing as he spoke. “It’s cherry,” he bobbed his eyebrows up and down a few times suggestively, and Eddie scoffed, elbowing him out of the way so that he could put his skewers down on the folding table.

You were just about to take the first sip of your beer when a man’s voice that was not familiar called over from the driveway.

“There’s that long-haired freak I’ve been looking for.”

The skin on your arms prickled with gooseflesh and you spun around, thinking there was about to be some sort of trouble.

Slightly unrealistic to think the worst, but you were understandably alert.

There at the edge of the lawn stood a tall, handsome guy you’d never laid eyes on before, maybe in his late 20’s, and he had a Coffin Kings cut on that was very similar to the one’s Eddie and Steve wore. At his side, holding his hand was an adorable redhead. Her long hair was pulled through the back of a baseball cap, but you noted that the bright candy color was deeply familiar.

You turned to see Eddie’s reaction like you were watching a tennis match.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he beamed. “Look what the cat dragged in, "and he stopped what he was doing to make his way over with his arms out and the two hugged, giving each other hearty pats on the back.

“Max!” Robin squealed, practically doing a cartwheel in that direction. You and Katie fell back and stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the group reconnect in a way that was very familial.

Lucas and Max had been together since high school, you learned, and Lucas was a member of the Coffin Kings Indianapolis chapter. The song Love Spreads by The Stone Roses played from Robin's portable boombox on the steps as the new arrivals meandered in to be with the rest of the gang and assimilated with ease.

Eddie rested his hand on your lower back to introduce you, and instead of a handshake, Max went in for a hearty hug, and in your ear, she said, “Eddie loves you so much, I’ve been dying to meet you.”

When she pulled back to meet your eyes, you nodded, swallowing hard. “I’ve heard so much about you,” you told her, and then Max shot a look at Eddie and made a crack about how she hoped it was all good things that you’d heard.

They were even more interested to meet Katie, being that Robin had not been serious about anyone since before Oliver was born. Just then, the Oliver in question came bursting out of the house flying his hot dog bun through the air like a plane, making engine noises.

By the time Dustin and Suzie came by with their new baby, the smell of burgers charring on the grill filled the air and you helped Steve bring some more chairs out to the lawn. Eddie was taking much care to keep your vegetarian stuff away from the meat, and you couldn’t help but notice with deep adoration.

Astrid had a lot on her mind. So much so that she didn’t have it in her to make the usual banter with Wayne that she enjoyed when they were together.

“You okay, darlin’?” Wayne turned to her in the truck on the way over.

“Oh,” she tucked a thick swatch of dark hair behind her ear. “You know, just thinking about how excited Steve must be about the new baby.”

There was a distinct melancholy in her voice. One of the reasons the relationship between her and Steve had never gone any further than besties who make love was her refusal to take away his chance at a big family. She was barely 21 when a doctor told her she’d never be able to conceive. Well, technically he said there was a small chance—a hairline percentage—but that it “would take an actual miracle”---those were his words.

She loved Steve too much to not let him be a dad. He was made for that life. Ever since he was a teenager, he’d known he wanted to be a father, and once he had Oliver, she knew she’d done the right thing. She’d tried to keep their relationship platonic time and time again, but in the end, the chemistry between them always proved to be too strong.

She’d decided that she would love him until he found someone else, and then she would continue to love him from the shadows. She’d given her heart long ago, and with him it would stay.

“Hell, look at the head of hair on that kid,” Wayne said when Suzie introduced him to her daughter. He gave a crooked grin and stroked a finger along the back of her tiny, exposed hand.

At that, Dustin took his cap off and swiped a hand through his unruly mane. “Thank god the rest of her looks take after her mother.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Lucas grumbled, thumping his friend in the arm.

Steve had his back to the crowd when they came in and Astrid spanked him on the bum on her way up the stairs to the kitchen.

He spun on his heel and was quick to cage his arms around her so she could only squirm. His face was flushed and glowing. “You meet the kid?”

“I did,” normally, she would’ve kissed him, but instead she pulled back a bit, tilting her chin away. “She’s so beautiful, Steve.”

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I—” she knew she was a fool to think he wouldn’t be able to read her face, a fool to think he couldn’t read her like a book after all of those years.

Steve frowned, examining her face for a clue to her distress.

Astrid’s stomach felt like she’d swallowed a lead weight.

She hadn’t decided if she should tell him or not.

About the secret she’d been carrying with her for a few days.

15 years, that’s how long she’d been in love with him.

Back when he was 19 and she was 23.

They’d known each other since they were little kids.

“I need to talk to you later,” she told him.

Steve dropped his arms from around her but held her hand. “You can’t tell me now?”

She’d be 38 in December.

“Later, okay?” She winked at him to ease his suffering, and then made her way into the house, knowing that he stood there the whole time and watched her go.

But later that day never came.

Wayne wanted to get back and rest before his chemo treatment, and Dustin and his family only stayed for about an hour as they were all understandably still exhausted and wanting to recover at home.

Astrid waved goodbye to Steve on her way out, and Steve stood up from his chair thinking he’d get a kiss, or at least a hug—but then she was gone.

He tried not to think too much of it. If he’d done something to upset her, she was never shy about letting him know. Maybe she was tired of socializing, maybe she needed a break from him.

Lord knows he wished he could take a break from himself.

Eddie looked over at where you stood talking with Max and Robin, and he recalled the conversation he’d had with Wayne a few days earlier.

“I don’t have to tell you you found a good one,” Wayne said from the couch in his trailer while Eddie sat next to him. “I think you know they don’t come around very often.”

“Oh believe me, I know,” Eddie raked a hand through his hair, brushing his bangs off his forehead one, two, three times. “I keep thinking one day she’s going to wake up and realize she could do a lot better.”

“You’ve done better than you give yourself credit for,” his uncle returned in a low, steady voice.

When the next words came, Eddie felt a tightness in his throat:

“I’m proud of you, son.”

Wayne had a hard time leaving the house the day after his treatments, so Eddie always came by to bring him lunch and make sure he had everything he needed. One day he came by to check on Wayne and found that you were already there, doing his dishes for him.

He’d never been with anyone who cared about the people in his life like that.

Back at the barbeque, you slipped up next to him and planted your lips on his bicep, breathing in the sandalwood and leather of his scent. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Since you asked,” he smirked. “I was thinking how I wish I’d met you a lot sooner.”

“How much sooner?” You batted eyes at him once he turned to face you. “In high school?”

Eddie made a yuck face. “No, you would not have given me a chance in high school. I would’ve been a lovesick puppy, but you probably wouldn’t have even known I existed.”

“Are you kidding?” You stuck the tip of your tongue out between your teeth, examining him. “I would’ve jumped your bones so fast.”

“So fast, huh?” He chuckled, taking you by the hips. “What about now?”

He pulled you in and you hummed against his lips, trying not to get too horny right there in front of the guests.

Lucas and Max would be in town for a couple days, so you and Eddie made plans to meet up at the Velvet Hammer when you were off work on Tuesday. By the time the sun went down, all of the visitors were gone, and you were happy to head home as well after helping with some cleanup.

“Robin and I can take care of it,” Katie nudged you away from trying to wash out a casserole dish at the sink. “You get out of here and go rest. Make Eddie rub your feet or something.”

You both stopped what you were doing to look at each other.

The way you were searching your friend’s face made her turn to give you her full attention. In the background, you could hear Steve trying to convince Oliver to get his pajamas on and brush his teeth in a sing-song voice.

“I can’t believe how much has happened in these past few months,” you still had soap bubbles popping on your wet hands and you slid them absently along the thighs of your jeans.

Katie gave a thoughtful sniff. “I think about it a lot,” she mused. “About that night on the couch at our place when you first told me about the guy who picked you up in the tow truck, and then meeting the boys at The Hideout and then—”

She cringed and covered her face with a dish towel, remembering her “date” with Steve. “---it feels so surreal that Steve and I actually…well…I don’t want to think about it. It’s too weird.”

“But then you and Robin found each other again,” you offered, thinking back to that first barbecue at their house when Eddie had to take off suddenly for secretive Coffin Kings business.

It was on the tip of your tongue to tell your friend about the offer from John Gregson. Katie knew you better than most people and you could always trust her advice to be on the mark.

For some reason, you wanted to cry, just drop to your knees and start bawling right there on the kitchen floor. For no one reason just

Everything

Katie caught the way your jaw moved like you were just about to say something, but then Eddie’s hands were snaking around to hold your back flush to his chest. Your hair caught on his beard stubble when he leaned in, warm breath at your ear. “You ladies need any help in here?”

You closed your eyes; you were glad to have him there. Glad to be in his arms, glad to know, in your heart, that he would always try his best for you.

But you were the one keeping a secret.

Robin joined Katie at the sink and told you both to take a hike, lovingly.

Steve came into the kitchen after you were both gone and the engine of Eddie’s Chevelle could be heard thundering down the road.

The first thing he did was pick up the beige, wall-mounted phone and call Astrid. He stood there for a while with the receiver pressed to his ear and his other arm folded over his chest before he held the mouthpiece out in front of him and stared at it.

“She’s not answering,” he mumbled loud enough that the girls could hear.

“Maybe she’s at Wayne’s? Did you check there?” Robin offered; her hair worn up in a haphazard ponytail.

Steve checked the clock first to make sure he wasn’t bothering Uncle too late, but it was barely 8:30 and he was probably up in his recliner watching M*A*S*H reruns.

Wayne answered and they exchanged a few words, but then when Steve hung up again, he was quiet, contemplatively so.

“What did he say?” Robin asked impatiently, drying some silverware with a checkered towel.

Steve frowned. “He said she dropped him off almost two hours ago and told him she was going home.”

He tried her house one more time and, again, no answer. He let it ring five times but disconnected once her answering machine clicked on.

“Maybe she went to bed early,” Katie shrugged. “And turned the ringer off.”

Steve knew better; Astrid barely slept. Normally, not being able to get a hold of her would not phase him, but something about the way she’d been acting that night set an alarm off in his gut.

Outside, there was the sound like a firecracker bomb going off that shook the house. Robin yelped and Steve bolted to the window to yank the yellow curtain back to see where it had come from.

He got there just in time to see a streak of lightning crack the dark sky and a drizzle of rain hit the glass. “Oh shit, good thing Eddie came in the Chevelle,” the droplets turned into a downpour as he stood there.

“Looks like a hell of a storm is brewing.”

—----

Earlier that day, Charlene Gregson marched out of Murray Bauman’s office with her lawyer in tow. She wore her oversized sunglasses and no expression on her face as they went down in the elevator and exited into the austere lobby. She looked like a million bucks, which was probably the cost of all of the gold and diamond jewelry she had on.

Outside on the busy street, her personal chauffeur was waiting by the Towncar to open the door for her while her lawyer, a pit-bull of a man named Saul, got in on the other side to slide in next to her. Billy was out there waiting on his bike, to make sure no one bothered her on their way out. He flicked his cigarette to the ground and revved the engine, angling to fall in line behind the Towncar.

“You sure this is what you want?” Saul posed the question to her as he slammed his door shut. They’d just thrown a lot of money at Murray and had him sign official documents.

Charlene sounded annoyed. “It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it? The deal is done.”

He continued. “I suppose I’m still trying to wrap my head around why you would—”

“I don’t pay you to ask personal questions,” she sniffed. “Just make sure there’s a smooth transition. I don’t want to be having a cocktail on the beach and find out that you fumbled something, and I’m forced to fly back out here.”

The town car sailed into traffic and the two sat in silence for a few minutes until Charlene stared out the window at the passing buildings on their way back to the lake house.

“Have you ever been in love, Saul?”

He was confused by the question and tapped his foot a few times. “I can’t really say I have.”

After recent events, and everything that he’d been tasked to do in her name for the benefit of someone else made him wonder. “What about you?”

“Only once,” she pressed her red lips together, eyes unblinking behind her sunglasses. “And once will have to be enough.”

Saul assumed she meant her soon to be ex husband John, and so he left it at that.

—-------

In a matter of seconds, the rain was coming down in sheets and the windshield wipers on the Chevelle were flapping back and forth at supernova speed.

“We could go back to my apartment if you want,” Eddie turned the Faith No More song down on the radio so that he could be heard over the rain. “But your place is cozier, and I know both are fairly small but I’ve been wanting to talk to you about—”

“I think I want to stay at my place tonight,” you blurted it out, keeping your attention fixed on the dash, staring at nothing. “Alone, if that’s alright.”

You could see in your peripheral vision that he turned to look at you, and you offered a reflexive smile, shoulders hunched a bit as if you were trying to fold in on yourself.

He smoothed his palm around the steering wheel and tried not to let the sensitive side of him that had been abandoned his whole life jump to conclusions. Not everyone needed to sleep next to the person they loved every night; you wanting space was totally reasonable and had nothing to do with your feelings for him.

Right?

Just in case, he decided to make sure. “Was it something I said or? Cause if there’s an issue between us, you know you can talk to me.”

For some reason, his insistence to have healthy communication irritated you. Possibly because you knew he was right and you should put it all out on the table and talk to him, but you didn’t know how. Your brain had barely been able to process the offer from John, let alone put the whole thing into words.

“It’s nothing you did,” you said softly. “I just need time to think.”

Something about your tone and choice of words made his heart rate increase. “Think about what?”

“Just stuff Eddie, okay? I don’t want to talk about it right now!” You snapped at him, for the first time ever.

After everything with Erika and Charlene and Melanie and thinking he’d been cheating on you, you’d never lost your temper with him, and the two of you had never had a fight. As much as you knew that arguments and disagreements were a very normal part of intimate relationships, you still felt like shit the second the words came out with such vitriol.

There it was, Eddie’s biggest fear: you were pulling away from him.

He’d suffocated you just like he was prone to do. He was “too much”, and now you were getting sick of him.

For the next few minutes of the drive to your place, neither of you said a word.

You because you didn’t want to take your confusion and anxiety out on Eddie, and Eddie because he didn’t want to sound like a whiny, needy bitch and make things worse.

He parked up in your driveway to get you close to the door, but he kept the engine running to let you know he was honoring your wish to drop you off and let you be.

You took a deep breath and flipped the manual lock up with two fingers.

“Wait, let me—” he was about to get out and come around to hold his coat out for you so that you wouldn’t get wet, but you were too quick for him.

“I’ll be fine, goodnight.” you were soaked the second you stepped out, fumbling in the pocket of your bag to find your keys.

“I love you,” Eddie’s voice was barely loud enough to be heard over the weather.

“Love you too,” you said quickly, and then you were bolting for the house, wishing you’d left the porch light on.

Once you were inside, you clicked the deadbolt shut and watched the beam of Eddie’s headlights retreat.

This was ridiculous. You were being ridiculous.

There’s a beautiful man out there who treats you better than you’ve ever been treated in your whole life.

You threw your bag on the floor and undid the lock to jerk open the door again.

You stumbled out into the rain. “Eddie wait!”

But all you could see were his taillights as he pulled onto the main street and drifted away.

—------

Back at her house, Astrid let the phone ring.

At one point, she had her hand on it, ready to pick up, but then decided against it.

It was impossible for her to be fake with Steve, but she also wasn’t ready to be as forthcoming as she needed to be.

She stood at the table and looked at the paperwork from the doctor's office one more time before she made her way over to the couch and hugged a pillow to her chest to let the tears fall hot and heavy.

She had her eyes closed, so she didn’t notice the lights approaching in the driveway or hear Steve shouting her name from the sidewalk as he stood out in the rain.

He’d borrowed Robin’s car to ease his mind and make sure Astrid was okay. What if she had slipped and hit her head or something? What if she was there with another dude? Also, a possibility under their “don’t ask, don’t tell” relationship agreement.

The white t-shirt he had on was soaked through, making the tattoos underneath look like they were a design imprinted on the material that hugged his muscles.

He banged on the door with the side of his fist and shouted her name again.

By then, Astrid could hear him, but she stayed curled on the couch and waited in vain for him to give up and leave.

—--

Eddie scowled to himself as he parked the Chevelle in one of the garages and made his way across the parking lot and up the steps to his apartment, shaking his wet hair like a dog. He could hear a few of the guys partying in the clubhouse, and he thought about joining them, but realized his spirits were too low to be social. There was a punching bag in the back office where he normally did his workouts to burn off steam, but he wasn’t in the mood for that either.

He told himself he would check on you first thing in the morning, but then it occurred to him that you might not want to hear from him right away. He wanted to respect your wishes, your boundaries.

He didn’t want to smother you.

On the nightstand next to his phone was the card for the real estate agent he’d visited the day before. There was a room on the second floor of the Ferguson farmhouse with a view of the big backyard and he imagined setting some easels up to make it a place for you to paint. It had a big living room with a fireplace and a workshed in the barn. He wanted to talk to you about it, to ask if maybe you could see yourself living there. With him.

But now he wondered if things were moving too fast.

He crossed his arms over his body and took his shirt off in the bathroom mirror. He rubbed a hand down his stomach, noting the areas of skin that were not covered in inked designs. The fanged bat with wings spread wide on his chest, the dragon design on his bicep, the grim reaper on his forearm. A crude dagger made to look like it pierced his skin just under his rib cage that said, “true friends stab you in the front”. There were other bits of traditional biker flash scattered around that Steve had doodled on him over the past decade. On his other forearm was a memorial tattoo for his mother with her name, the year she died, and an angel statue with eyes that dripped blood, surrounded in roses and thorns, and the thorns came down over the back of his hand. It was done in a way so that the bats that had been inked there earlier were still visible.

He was barely 15 when another friend inked HELLFIRE on his knuckles. It was done with a homemade tattooing gun like the ones used in prison, and the letters had to be redone later because they were basically chicken scratches. One of the other earliest ones was the skull with a snake through it on his opposite bicep with his nickname “War Machine” underneath.

Some days, he wanted to get them all removed and start over.

Other days, he wanted to go balls to the wall like Steve and be inked from ear to foot.

He threw his soaked shirt in the hamper and was just about to grab a beer out of the small fridge near his desk to take into the shower with him—

but then there was a knock at the door.

At first, he thought it was one of the other Coffin Kings, trying to drag him down to get plastered with them, but then he noticed that the rapping of knuckles was soft, cautious even.

“Eddie?”

His head snapped around at the sound of the voice.

It was you.

—------

Steve held his finger on the doorbell, relentlessly. “Astrid, if you don’t answer the goddamn door, I’m gonna break it down! You know I will!”

Astrid wiped her face, flapping her hand to dry her eyes and cheeks to the best of her ability. She still had on the flowy, floral, maxi dress with an empire waist that she’d worn at the barbeque, and she wrapped a black shawl around her shoulders as she stomped begrudgingly to the door.

Just as she was about to reach up to unlock the safety chain, there was a loud thud from Steve’s foot slamming into the wood, vibrating the hinges.

“Steve stop!” She yelled, fussing with the second lock on the doorknob.

She yanked the door back and there he was: soaked to the bone.

There was only a short awning over her front steps, and so he was standing as close to the frame as possible while more thunder rumbled in the distance. His wet hair had flopped into his eyes, and he swiped it back with a twist of his head, spitting to the sidewalk as he did so.

His expression was one of anger at first, but then it melted into confusion when he could tell right away that she had been crying. “Why aren’t you answering your phone?”

“This is a bad time,” she stayed blocking the entrance, although the yearning in his eyes was actively testing her resolve.

“The hell it is?” He pushed. He shifted to see behind her, as if there was someone or something she was hiding. “You’re upset, I can tell. Let me in.”

“No.” That was her answer, but Steve wasn’t having it.

He stomped up onto the threshold, wet hair dripping onto her face as he closed in, bracing his hand on the door so that she couldn’t shut it. “Why don’t you want to see me?”

She tried to look everywhere but his face, but then his hand caught her chin and guided her eyes up to meet his.

“Talk to me,” he whispered from lips dotted in water droplets.

There was a tug of war going on in her heart, and in the end, Steve won. He always did.

She didn’t invite him in properly, she just turned on her heel and left the door open, knowing he would follow her into the living room.

His boots squeaked from all the moisture on her hardwood floors. He always liked to take his shoes off when he came to see her, but it was too late for that. He found her sitting on the couch in the dark, but he could only see the outline of her curly hair.

“Why are you sitting here without any lights on?” He reached down and flicked on a tiny wicker lamp that was on the nearby bookshelf.

“You ask a lot of questions,” she mumbled.

He pinched the front of his shirt to peel it from his body and flapped it a few times as if that would dry it out. “What did you want to talk to me about at the barbeque?”

“You’re soaking wet,” she got a good look at him in the light and suddenly felt bad that she’d made him wait out there.

“No kidding?” He snorted sarcastically.

“You left some of your clothes here last time. I folded them in the third drawer,” she hugged the pillow. “Get into something dry and then we can talk.”

He stripped down to his underwear right there in front of her, staring at her the entire time, as if he was worried she would bolt and try to hide from him. His patchwork of colorful tattoos was a jumble of loud expressions of his aggression and passion. In honor of his nickname Taz, he had several Tasmanian devils doing various things including riding a motorcycle and one on the back of his arm giving onlookers the middle finger. The ones on the front of his thighs were all self-done when he was just a kid, practicing his craft. When he was a teenager, he used to tease her and call her “Asteroid” and just above his knee was an asteroid with a fire tail crashing toward a heart-shaped earth. Besides the Seek and Destroy tattoo on the side of his throat, his skin was full of phrases, including the big “FTW” letters in an arc under his ribcage that stood for “Fuck the World”.

He went into her bedroom and brought out a pair of jeans and a blue t-shirt with “Gary’s Plumbing” advertised on the front pocket. He dressed in front of her as well, keeping a relentless eye.

“You really are ridiculous, you know that?” She put her chin in her palm and waited patiently for the show to be over.

He flapped his arms out to his sides like a little kid waiting for approval on his outfit. “Okay, beautiful. I’m dry. Time to spill the beans.”

“Can you sit down, please?” Her heart flopped in her chest as she considered the words that were about to come out of her mouth and the effect, they would have on him.

In Steve’s experience, when someone asked you to sit down before they told you something, it was always their attempt to soften the blow of bad news. “Why can’t you just tell me now? You’re freaking me out, babe.”

“Steve,” She pleaded sternly. “Trust me, I need you to sit down for this.”

—------

Eddie barely had time to greet you before you were pushing by him to get into the studio apartment. You were hugging yourself, and anxiety had your stomach in knots.

“I need to talk to you about something,” you gushed.

Eddie stood at the door, keeping his back to you while he locked it. He was shirtless, dark hair dripping down the pale muscles that flexed under his flesh.

You looked around, trying to decide if you should sit or stand when your gaze landed on the painting you’d done for him after that first time you met. He had it displayed front and center, right above his desk on the main navy-blue wall, as if it were the most important piece in the room.

You were pacing when he turned toward you, the wheels in your mind spinning.

When he got closer, you stepped further away, but he caught your wrist. “Hey, why can’t you look at me? What’s going on?” His voice was sterner than he’d intended it to be.

“I can look at you,” you made yourself meet his stare to prove his point, but it was difficult. You felt like he could see right through you; all of your doubts, all of your fears and insecurities.

“Sit,” he directed you over to the end of the bed, facing the small sitting area with where there was a couch and a coffee table in front of an old Zenith tv.

Next to you, the mattress sank under his weight, but in your mind, you were somewhere else.

“So, is this it?” He released a heavy breath and started to play with one of the rings on his hand, pulling it up the finger and then pushing it back down to the knuckle.

“What do you mean?”

It was he who couldn’t look at you now. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“No!” You blurted it, eyebrows pinching together in frustration with the way you couldn’t get the words out. “That’s not…I didn’t mean…I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

A rush of endorphins filled him with temporary relief while he waited for your next words.

You stretched your neck from side to side, swallowed hard, and then you told him.

You told him about John’s offer to run your own gallery in Chicago, the opportunity to have the artists loft you’d always dreamed of. You picked at a piece of skin on the side of your thumb as you talked.

“But I said I needed to talk to you about it first,” you added.

Eddie got to his feet and went over to look out the window over the garage parking lot. “Sounds like a pretty sweet deal,” he mumbled.

You weren’t breaking up with him, but you were, in fact, leaving him, which was much the same thing.

“Well, it’s complicated,” you said, watching as he went over to snatch his pack of smokes and lighter off of the coffee table.

“Doesn’t sound complicated to me,” the cigarette bobbed between his pinched lips as he talked, cupping his hand to light the end. “Sounds like you already know what your answer is.”

“I wouldn’t be talking to you about it if I’d already made my decision,” you countered. “I want to know what you think.”

“Well,” he scoffed, exhaling a sharp plume of smoke down his chin. His eyes were much darker now, almost black. “No one in their right mind would choose to stay in Hawkins, not with an opportunity like that on the table.”

He almost added, “no loser biker boyfriend is worth it,” but decided it was not the right time to be self-deprecating.

“But I like it here,” you mused. “More than I ever thought I would.”

“We’ll always be here, trust me,” he was trying to remain cool, but his exterior was cracking. “So, this John guy has been stalking you or something? Getting you to do this painting for him was one thing, but now he’s waiting for you at your job to get you to what? ----Move to Chicago to be closer to him?”.

The smoke came out his nose that time and the muscles in his throat tensed. He had a bad feeling about that guy before, but he wanted to respect your business ventures and give you space.

The change in Eddie’s demeanor made you wonder if that was the time for full transparency. In the end, you’d made a promise not to have any secrets from each other and you wanted to keep your word.

“There was mention of that, yes,” you said cautiously, nibbling at your lip.

“Mention of what, exactly?” Eddie scowled, cocking his head to the side.

“He said there were lots of places he wanted to take me to in the city,” you recited the words cautiously.

Eddie laughed and threw his head back; it was much more of a crazy, maniacal cackle. “Oh shit, maybe I should pay him a little visit? See if pretty boy wants to show me the city too.”

“Eddie.”

“What did you tell him?” He was fuming now, grinding his jaw as he stabbed the half-smoked cig into the ashtray.

“I didn’t tell him anything,” you repeated, but in a much louder voice. “I said I needed to talk to you, my boyfriend.”

“He knows you have a boyfriend, and he still pulled that shit?” Eddie bit the tip of his tongue between his teeth with a grimace. “That fucker needs to get rolled.”

“Eddie!”

“No, I’m serious,” he was yelling now, but more about the situation than at you. “I gave him a chance to be cool, to be a gentleman, and he fucked it up. I told you babe, dudes like that, with money, think they can take whatever they want. Well, he can’t have you, unless it’s over my dead fucking body.”

“Well, it’s my fucking choice, and I don’t want to be with him, I want to be with you, asshole,” You shot to your feet.

You’d realized something on your way over to his place and it was that you really did not want to leave Hawkins.

Every rational bone in your body told you to take the offer and run, but the other bones in your body, the not so rational ones, told you that you’d finally found your family and a place you belonged.

“Listen to me,” you grabbed him by the arm and made him turn, his hair flying over his shoulder. “I don’t want to take the job, okay? I want to stay here. With you.”

Eddie nostrils flared. It was taking all of his strength not to go out looking for that pencil pushing dweeb Gregson. But if he actually got his hands on him in the heat of the moment, he was afraid of what he would do.

“I’ll move with you,” Eddie wet his lips, a new idea flashing behind his eyes.

“With me? To Chicago?”

“Yeah, no, I could make it work. Hire another manager here, another tow truck driver. Come back and check in a couple times a month,” he walked by you as he talked, plucking at his lower lip with thumb and forefinger. “I could get a job at a garage in Chicago, easy. There’s even a King’s chapter there. I could get Bones to patch me in.”

“What about Wayne? And Oliver?”

“We’ll come back to visit,” Eddie nodded at the plan that was forming in his head. “Steve and Robin and the kid love Chicago. Maybe we can get a place with a spare bedroom for when they come up.”

“But what about—”

“I know this means a lot to you, this opportunity,” he cut you off. “I know I’m a dirty, biker asshole, but I’m not going to be the reason you give up on a dream.” He went over to the dresser drawers and pulled out a Pabst Blue Ribbon shirt to pull on over his head. The armholes were cut wide, and the collar was frayed.

“But what if I don’t want to live in Chicago?”

Eddie squinted like he hadn’t heard you correctly. “What now?”

You bit the inside of your cheek in contemplation. “I’ve been thinking that I don’t really care about that world anymore, the art world I mean.”

“You don’t want to paint anymore?” He appeared hurt by this notion.

“No, I do, I will always paint,” you corrected with a wave of your hand. “But the retail side of it, the snobby clientele, the stress, I’m not sure it makes me happy anymore. Not sure if it ever did.”

It was Eddie who took a seat that time, perching on the back of the sofa. You could tell he was trying to understand, but the information was coming at him a bit too fast.

“I don’t want to work at the Hammer for the rest of my life, either, but it’s okay for now,” you were working through the revelations as you spoke them aloud. “I have a friend who is starting her own greeting card company, and she wants me to do some artwork for her. Little by little, I can make a living while still doing what I love.”

Eddie’s thoughts drifted back to the farmhouse, and how much he felt like it fit the both of you.

“Are you telling me you chose Hawkins? Really?”

You went over to situate your hips between his knees and brushed his bangs off his forehead. “No, I’m saying I choose you, asshole,” a smile tugged the side of your mouth up. “Hawkins is a bonus, yes, but I will always choose you.”

Foreheads met then, and Eddie forced out a long-held breath from between tight lips. “I don’t want you to wake up one day and realize you made a mistake.”

“The only thing I regret is that I didn’t get to jump your bones in high school.”

He chuckled, repeating what he’d asked at the barbeque earlier. “Well, what about now?”

In the back of his mind he was thinking, “that John Gregson is still a dead man,” but he kept it to himself.

—----

Steve flopped down next to Astrid on the fluffy, tan sofa so violently it was as if he’d been thrown there by a force of nature. He scooted closer and pawed at her hand so that she would intertwine her fingers with his. He was reminded of all of those times as a teenager when he would get hurt on purpose just so she would patch him up. She was a couple years older and wanted nothing to do with him back then, but nevertheless he melted under the tender touch of her attention every time.

“I’m all ears,” he prodded eagerly when she did not speak right away.

Keeping Steve’s hand with hers, Astrid turned to face him and tucked her bare feet underneath her, adjusting the stretch length of her dress.

Steve watched the way her long hair fell across her neck and ample cleavage.

“Okay,” she cleared her throat. “What I need to tell you is—”

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, perpetually distracted.

“Steve?”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

Another big inhale and then: “These past few weeks, I could tell something was…off. I thought it was early menopause because I missed my period.”

Steve stared blankly, trying not to get turned on watching her lips move.

She let her gaze fall to their hands clasped on Steve’s knee, wondering if any of it was real, or if she was still dreaming.

“Is it cancer?” He dared to ask, squeezing her hand. “Because I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’ll find the best doctor at gunpoint if I have to.”

“Steve!”

“What? You’re making me crazy! Tell me everything's okay?”

“I’m not dying, Steve.”

“Well then what is it? I’ve been going out of my mind and here you are—”

“I’m pregnant.”

His body had been moving, vibrating even, but it all came to a complete halt at that.

As if he’d been flash-frozen on the spot.

A mannequin of himself; mouth open, one eyebrow up.

He shook his head, confused. “Hold on, what? But I thought you said that you—”

She played with the hem of her shawl. “I was told it was impossible. I was told it would take a miracle.”

“Wait a minute, so—” he gulped and then leaned forward to search her face, one arm scooping behind her. Her eyes were glossy again, on the verge of another wellspring.

“Is it m-my…is it my baby?” He stammered.

She could only nod, chin quivering as more tears gathered at her lash line only to race down her cheeks once she blinked.

Steve lost it then too, sucking in air before he choked on his own emotions. He brought her hand to his chest and held it there. “My baby,” he gasped, eyes flooding. “You’re having my baby. We’re having a baby.”

“Yeah,” she hiccuped and sniffed. “You’re not upset?”

“Upset? Why would I be upset? How could you even think that?” He was deeply offended that she would question his reaction to something he’d wanted his whole life with her, specifically.

He was wiping her tears away with his thumbs as she spoke. “This is far from convenient, Steve. The way we both live our lives, we never planned for this. We barely have two pennies to rub together between us and—”

“Shhhh,” he kissed her nose and her eyelids and her mouth. “Money comes and goes, sweetheart. It doesn’t matter, nothing matters, but you and this baby. Our baby.”

Our baby. He couldn’t stop saying it.

He hadn’t known about Oliver until a few days before he was born, and he always felt robbed of all that time in the womb when he could’ve bonded with his son. Tina had been a three-day fling at a music festival, and he never had any intention of seeing her again. He’d been prepared to do the right thing though, to be a family even if it killed him, but then Tina just handed him a baby boy a week old and drove away, as if he knew what the fuck he was doing.

Robin had been in the car waiting for him when it happened. She saw him standing there in the street holding that screaming baby in a blanket and right then and there, a mother was born.

He put his hand on Astrid’s stomach, gently. “Can I feel it move yet? The baby?”

She laughed into her hand as she wiped her nose. “I’m barely seven weeks along, silly.”

He curled down like he always did when he put his head in her lap, but instead he placed his ear on her stomach, massaging her thigh with his hand. “I don’t think you can hear me, little one, but daddy has loved your mother his whole life and I love you very much.”

His next words were to Astrid; a murmur into the meat of her. “Will you let me love you now? The way I’ve always wanted to? Will you stay with me?”

She scratched her fingers through his hair, and then held his head there when his arms went around her waist. They stayed like that for a long while.

A bit later, in bed with her head on his chest, he was half asleep when she whispered: “You know that twins run in my family, right?”

—------

“A geriatric pregnancy,” Steve told you from across the bar when you were both back at work the next evening to the tune of Connection by Elastica.

You made a face while you put some limes and shots of tequila on your tray.

“That’s what they call it, I guess, when a woman is over 35,” he shrugged. “A geriatric pregnancy. So, I’m forcing her to take it easy.”

He was letting you and Shana in on the good news, and he’d been grinning from ear to ear for so long, his cheeks hurt. His gold incisor caught the red lights like it had a ruby in it. He’d even been smiling in his sleep, somehow, as Astrid noticed when she got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom.

“I’m so happy for you,” you mirrored his enthusiasm. “Does Eddie know? Wayne?”

“Not yet,” he made a loose fist and cracked his knuckles. “We wanted to tell Uncle together. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, but I couldn’t wait,” he added sheepishly. “She knows I can’t keep a secret like that.”

“I’ll wait and let you give Eddie the news,” you told him. “I think he’d rather hear it from you.”

“Where is that War Machine?” Steve looked around, adjusting his sunglasses on his head. “I owe him a drink.”

“That’s a good question,” you glanced at the clock that was up by the wall-mounted tv. “He said he was going to stop by, but that was almost two hours ago.” It didn’t concern you too much because your boyfriend was a busy guy, and last-minute things were always popping up at the shop.

It was on your to-do list to call John on your break and let him know you were turning down his offer. The more you thought about it, the more you wondered if he’d planned to hire you on merit, or if he just wanted to get into your pants. When you thought about the possibility of the latter, it made your blood pressure spike.

You delivered a round of drinks to a table, and on your way back to the bar, there was a man in a suit coming through the door, holding a briefcase.

Steve gave him a nod when they made eye contact, but he didn’t ask to check his ID because the man had a graying hairline and was possibly mid-fifties at the least. He was fit though, and had a very confident demeanor about him. He looked like he was there to do business.

“My name is Saul,” he introduced himself to Steve with a handshake and Steve stood up from his stool to be eye level with him. “I’m looking for Steve Harrington.”

“You found him,” Steve rolled his neck, wondering what he could possibly want from him.

Saul gave a stiff smile that did not reach his eyes.

By then you were at the bar, acting like you were busy so that you could eavesdrop.

“What’s this about?” Steve pushed the sleeves of his flannel up to his elbows, exposing his tattoos.

“Well, it would behoove you to give me a moment of your time,” he moved one side of his suit jacket back to shove his hand in his pocket, rocking back on his heels.

“I have some business to discuss with you on behalf of Charlene Gregson.”

—------

John Gregson had no idea he was being followed.

He vaguely registered the sound of the loud pipes from the motorcycles rolling up to Margie’s diner, but he was having a late lunch with a business associate and didn’t pay much attention to it. He preferred white tablecloth lunch meetings, but in Hawkins there weren’t many choices. Their BLT was unbeatable though, as was the chocolate cream pie. He’d have to calculate them both into his low-carb diet and spend extra time at the gym in the morning.

He had his back to the door, making notes in his date book as the man across from him spoke over the sound of clattering dishes and silverware.

He felt the shadows pass over the table, but he figured it was a group on the way to sit at a booth further down.

But they came to a halt and loomed there, smelling of leather and tobacco.

John glanced over the top of his reading glasses at his companion first and saw that the color had drained from his face.

There were four members of the Coffin Kings glaring down at them.

Eddie frowned at the man with John and jerked his thumb to the side. “Get up,” he said. “Find somewhere else to be, I need to talk to your friend here.”

Devlin sank into the booth behind John while Van stood across the aisle flipping his butterfly knife, and Lucas stayed next to Eddie.

“Now, hold on just a—” John began to protest, about to get to his feet, but Lucas clapped a hand onto his shoulder and pushed him back down with calm, steady force.

His companion’s eyes darted from Eddie to John a few times before he gathered his things in a rush, tucking all of his papers under his arm, and shimmied past Van while holding his breath. It was clear he had no intention of going to wait at another table, he was down the row of booths and out the front door in a flash.

With a heavy sigh, Eddie sank into the seat across from John, wallet chain dragging on the vinyl as he settled in, stretching his arms wide along the back of the bench.

Lucas turned his back on the two but stood in the same spot, feet planted wide, hands in his pockets, blocking John from leaving.

With a resolute nod, John put his pen down. “Have we met? I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure—”

“Cut the crap, man,” Eddie huffed with a lazy grin and hooded eyes. “You know exactly who I am.”

John took his glasses off and tucked them inside his jacket pocket. “Fair enough. How can I help you?”

Eddie plucked a pack of smokes out of the front pocket of his cut and motioned for Devlin to toss him a lighter.

“This is a no smoking section,” John reminded him, pointing to the sign on the wall with a red line through a cigarette.

Eddie stared at him as he lit the end and sucked in his cheeks until the cherry glowed orange.

He waited until after a generous exhale to speak, directing the smoke into John’s leftover pie.

“You see, John—can I call you John? I’ve been really…patient when it comes to this infatuation you have with my girl. More patient than you deserve, I think.”

John clicked his tongue. “Now, you misunderstand me, I—”

“I haven’t misunderstood shit,” Eddie scoffed a laugh.

The waitress came over, and John was sure she was going to tell him to put his cigarette out, but instead she just gave him the most flirtatious smile. “You want some coffee, hun? You hungry?”

Eddie finished taking another drag and winked at her. “Just coffee for me, darlin’,” and then he gestured to the other Coffin Kings. “Get these boys whatever they want and wrap it up to go. It’s on John’s tab.”

Once she was gone, Eddie continued. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, slick,” he reached over to tap the ash out on John’s plate. “Once she finishes this painting, you’re gonna to pay her more than what you initially offered, and then you’re never going to see her or talk to her ever again. Comprendo?”

John used the back of his fingers to push the plate a few inches away, dabbing the sides of his mouth with his napkin. “My offer for her to run my gallery in Chicago had no devious intentions, I assure you. I genuinely believe she is that talented.”

Eddie ground his teeth, jaw muscles bulging. “She’s beyond talented, you got that right, but she doesn’t want to work for you. You’re a creep. Throwing money and big promises around to get what you want. I know your type.”

“My type?”

“Has your wife ever mentioned me?” Eddie inquired, exhaling into John’s face.

He watched John visibly go rigid.

Rhonda set Eddie’s coffee cup on a saucer down in front of him with extra creamer and poured him a steaming cup.

John cleared his throat. “I think it would be in her best interest—”

“You don’t know what’s best for her,” Eddie bit. “Who are you, her fucking dad?”

He’d said it a bit too loud and a few people from other tables craned their necks to follow the sound.

Eddie leaned forward, whispering tensely. “I don’t think I have to tell you that I have friends in low places. People who will do what I say at the drop of a hat. You think you can hide behind your money? You’re wrong. The people who pump your gas and make your food and clean your bathroom? They’re all with me. You’ll be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life. If you fuck with me on this, if you seek my girl out after I’ve told you not to? Well, then, I hope you like dentures sweetheart because I’m gonna pull your perfect, pearly teeth out one by one.”

By the time he was done, his hand had curled into a fist on the table. He spread the ringed fingers out wide and then made the fist again, making John look at it.

Eddie snubbed out his smoke in John’s pie with a sizzle and then settled back in his seat, relaxing his shoulders. He cocked an eyebrow up. “Are we good?”

John sat back as well. “We’re good,” he acknowledged stiffly, adjusting his suit jacket.

Eddie slapped the table and gave John a wink. “Well, this was fun,” he chuckled. “We should catch up more often.”

He took a quick gulp of his coffee and slid out of the booth.

He stopped to bend over and whisper, “don’t forget to tip well, slick,” in John’s ear on his way out.

—-------

By the time Eddie showed up at the Velvet Hammer, swatting away plumes of second-hand smoke as he went, everyone knew that Steve was going to be a dad again. Even the new customers who’d barely just walked in the door that evening.

Astrid had prepared for this.

One of the many complicated reasons she’d waited more than a week to tell him was because she’d known that, if he knew, he’d be announcing it to everyone he passed by on the street.

Steve jumped from his stool and hugged Eddie. “I’ve got great news, man,” he clapped Eddie a few times on the arm, over the thick leather jacket he had on.

Eddie had been on his way across the room to you when his friend stopped him, so the sudden affection took him off guard. “I like good news,” he caught your eye over Steve’s shoulder and smirked.

Steve let him know that he was going to be a dad again, which Eddie assumed would happen sooner than later, but he was surprised and delighted to know that Astrid was the mom. They both knew that she’d been told it would be nearly impossible for her to conceive.

Steve leaned in. “This proves it, man, I have a magic dick.”

“Sure you do,” Eddie scoffed, patting Steve on the cheek a few times. “Only took you 15 years.”

Before you could greet him, Eddie was already in front of you, pulling you flush to his body. He started to walk and you took backwards steps to stay with him. “Can you take your break right now?”

“I wasn’t going to for another hour but—”

“I need to talk to you,” he hushed.

“Um, okay, well,” you glanced over at Shana and she waved you off.

His mouth found yours the second you were obscured in the dark hallway. You figured he’d be escorting you out to the alley where you usually took your breaks with him so he could smoke, but this time, he pulled you into one of the two unisex bathrooms and locked it behind him. The bulbs inside were red, and it set an eerie, bloodwashed glow.

“This place sees a lot of action,” you mumbled into his kiss as he worked your skirt up so that he could take a handful of the meat of your ass. “I like to call it Steve’s Office.”

Before you knew what was happening, he was hoisting you up onto the sink counter with a grunt. Your thighs and bum were fully exposed now, covered in fishnet stockings, and one of his hands held your face while the other rubbed a knuckle over the heat between your legs. Your panties and stockings were preventing him from going further, but not for long.

You were about to protest, to say you had to get back to work, or to remind him how many women Steve had probably railed in that very spot, but

Fuck

And just when you softened with a shaky moan, he kissed a trail down your jaw and throat, with a few nibbles in between.

You whimpered, spreading your legs further apart, Doc Marten booted feet locking onto his thighs to keep him close.

“I have something..” smooch “...that I need…” smooch “...to ask you…” smooch

“Right now?” You palmed his hard length over his denim and then went to work at undoing his belt buckle. “We only have 10 minutes.”

He leaned back, letting his cherry bitten lips hover there at eye level. His bangs were getting too long, he needed a trim, and you brushed them to the side, off of his eyebrows.

“Do you want to move in with me?”

You blinked a few times. “Into your apartment?”

“No, no,” eager lips found your mouth again and his thumb rubbed circles over the taut nub of your nipple through your shirt. “The big farmhouse down on Marigold Road. I pointed it out once when we drove by.”

You stopped. “The old Ferguson place? Aren’t there people already living there?”

“Not anymore,” he could feel your arousal soaking through your underwear and he hissed, grinding his erection against your thigh. “I want to buy it. For us.”

In your desperation, you reached down and clawed at the section of black fishnet that was keeping him from you, ripping a little further down your thigh than you’d intended to.

Eddie kissed down the front of you on the way to his knees, and then your underwear was pulled to one side and his tongue was on your swollen clit, rolling in circles there.

You dug your fingers into his hair with one hand and supported yourself on the ledge with the other. He sucked a few times, and then his tongue went inside of you, and you bit your lip, squirming to try and repress a scream.

“That is a big step,” you gasped. “Moving in together.”

For the longest time, you couldn’t see yourself living with anyone other than a roommate ever again.

He hummed on your now soaked cunt and then kitten licked it a few times. “I’m ready. Are you?”

You didn’t respond at first because your eyes were rolling back in your head, so he popped off to get to his feet, his chin glistening. He spread your thighs further apart to make room for his hips and undid his zipper.

His pupils bloomed wide as he searched your lustful eyes, insecurities making his heart rate quicken. “Are you not ready? I mean, do you not want that? Is it too soo—”

But then you silenced him with your mouth, lapping up your juices from his chin, moving away a strand of his hair that had stuck there. “I want to see the inside. Could we go look at it together?”

“Yeah we can,” he pushed his boxers down and rubbed the tip of his leaking cock along your slit. “I’ll call the real estate dude in the morning.”

You clung to his neck, jaw going slack as he sank in. “I’ll have to check with Charlie.”

He chucked into the kiss at you mentioning your cat, and then he was stretching you out, easing his way in, aching to be one with you.

“Deeper…more,” you whimpered, and then you each let out a muffled cry when he filled you to the hilt, flush inside of your pulsing heat.

He rested his forehead on yours and began to work his hips, thrusting deep and retreating with a curl of his hips so that you could feel every vein, every ridge, but then you were clenching around him, and he sped up with a curse, a thumb working at your clit.

“This…fuck, I’m going to cum so hard inside of you,” he admitted with a huff. His belt buckle clinked against his zipper with every thrust. “You want that? You want all of me?”

“Fuck, Eddie, yes,” You whined, clinging to him as stars exploded behind your eyes.

His strong fingers dug into your flesh to hold your legs in place, and after a few more shaking pumps, he was spilling inside of you, each of you a moaning mess of “I love yous”, clawing at the other to be closer.

Someone banged on the door just as the two of you were catching your breath and Eddie was still inside of you.

“Get lost!” Eddie yelled, not caring if it was a customer.

“Are you two having a tea party in there? Cabbage Patch meeting perhaps?”

It was Steve, and then you could hear his ruckus laughter as he banged another few times just to be cheeky.

You adjusted your underwear back into place, and Eddie fastened his jeans before he helped you down off the counter. You pulled your skirt down and checked yourself in the mirror.

Yikes.

The rip down your inner thigh was painfully obvious. You wondered if shredding them in a few more places would make it more of “a look”, but then realized that the lighting in the Hammer was not great, and it wasn’t unheard of for someone to accidentally rip their stockings at work.

But what about when Eddie’s seed started to drip down your leg?

“You go,” you shooed him away as he stood there adjusting the collar of his jacket, waiting for you. “I need to pee.”

He was looking at himself in the mirror, rubbing lipstick off his cheek, but then he turned just before grabbing for the door. “If you don’t want to, you know, live together right away, I get it. But with Katie moving in with Robin and all, I figured—”

“You figured we could be roommates?”

He smirked, giving a bashful shrug. “A little more than that, maybe. Roommates with benefits.”

“Yeah?” You sank against his chest, forever helpless to his gravitational pull. “What kind of benefits?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he rubbed the sides of your arms with his calloused hands. “I’ll make you pancakes.”

“You think you can make pancakes?”

“Baby, I've told you before, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

—-------

“WAYNE!”

Uncle entered the Hammer and everyone screamed his name like he was Norm in an episode of Cheers.

It had been a while since he dropped by unannounced, and he looked better than ever.

Still much thinner than he had been the year before, and it was hard for him to catch his breath sometimes, but his eyes were bright, and he wore a soft smile more often than not.

Maybe the chemo was working? Maybe there was hope?

Devlin had been sitting on the stool at the bar next to Eddie, but Eddie was quick to tell him to take a hike when Wayne showed up.

“What did the doctor say?” He asked as his uncle straddled the stool and got comfortable. He was in a green and white plaid work shirt and had decided to leave his Coffin Kings leather at home.

Wayne gave a single nod and patted around for his smokes out of habit, even though he’d given it up when he started treatment. “Just heard Steve's gonna be a dad again. He better treat her right, that's all I can say." It was obvious he was damn near giddy at the thought, Eddie could see it in the way a smile kept tugging at the sides of his mouth. "I’m sick of talking about doctors and my goddamn condition. Want to forget about it for a night.”

Eddie respected that, and tapped the bar to order him one of those non-alcoholic beers that they kept cold specifically for Wayne and one other regular patron.

You barely had a chance to give Wayne a shoulder squeeze when Robin burst in through the door, frantically scanning the crowd. There was a dancer on the backstage, working her way down the poll, and Steve had gone over to remind a few rowdy customers to behave themselves. Robin rushed over and met him halfway, in front of the glowing jukebox.

He found no comfort in the way she looked like she’d been crying.

“What’s going on?” Felt like his heart literally stopped beating in his chest. “Are you okay?”

“The spare key,” she held her palm out. “You used it last time and now I’m locked out of the house.”

He felt around in his back pocket. “Where are your regular keys?”

She rolled her eyes, bouncing in frustration. “I lost them somewhere, okay? At work maybe, I’m not sure, but Oliver just threw a fit, I’m on my period, and we’re all just in a really bad mood and want to go home.”

“Alright, alright, here take my key,” he wrestled it off the metal ring to hand it to her. “Just remember to leave the back door unlocked for me. Is Oliver in the car?”

“No, he’s at Katie’s place with her, I needed to take a drive alone so that I could scream,” she snatched the key from him.

“Shit, you had me worried for a second.”

“Sorry,” admittedly, she felt like she was overreacting to something so small and fixable, but more likely her tears were from an accumulation of things. Once the panic spike subsided, her eyes landed on half of a white envelope peeking out of the pocket of his Coffin Kings leather, right above his TAZ insignia. She always teased him and said his official nickname should’ve been Dingus.

“What’s this?” It looked like it had some official lettering in the corner, and she plucked it out to look closer.

They made their way back to the front so he could keep an eye on the door, and she frowned at the name of a law office in the corner.

“I don’t know, I haven’t opened it yet,” he shrugged. “Some douchey lawyer brought it by, said it was from Charlene. It was busy when he came in, so he gave me that to read and told me to call him in the morning.”

“Fucking Charlene?” She balked. “What, is she suing you for not wanting to be her boyfriend?”

“I haven’t had time to open in, but it wouldn’t surprise me.”

A group of people came in, and two looked like they were 16, so Steve carded them.

Robin ripped the top of the envelope open. You stepped in front of her on your way to a table, and the two of you collided.

You said a quick apology and were about to ask if she wanted a drink, when Shana shouted across the bar to tell Robin the phone was for her.

“It’s your boss from the motel,” Shana continued, holding her hand over the bottom half of the receiver.

Robin gave a heavy, exasperated sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. “She’s going to ask me to work a double shift tomorrow, I just know it.”

She shoved the paperwork at you that she’d just unfolded, but not yet read. “Hold this for me? Be right back.”

“Oh—okay,” you had the paperwork pressed flat to your chest as you made your way over to stand at Eddie’s shoulder. He was talking to Wayne, but he reached back and squeezed your thigh in greeting.

You hadn’t meant to look, to eavesdrop on their private business.

But once glance was all it took

For you to be fully invested

Charlene’s name was the first thing to catch your eye

And then, The Velvet Hammer

You took a few long blinks, unsure if what you were looking at was real.

You mouthed a few of the words quietly just to make sure you were reading them correctly.

The way you froze made Eddie curious, and he turned his head to see what you were doing.

“What’s up babe? What is that?”

“It’s, uh—” you stammered. “It’s Steve’s. You’re never going to believe this, but um—”

“Can I see it?”

He tried to meet your eyes as he took it from you, but you couldn’t seem to look away from the words on the paper. Your mind was reeling.

Robin returned just as Eddie held the papers out in front of him, and she steadied herself with a hand on his back to read over his shoulder.

Steve meandered over; his curiosity officially piqued at what you were all huddled together about.

“What’s it say?” He had a smoke bobbing between his lips and his hands in his pockets. “Did I win the lottery or somethin’?”

He chuckled, but then you all turned to him in unison, unblinking, mouths agape.

“Yeah man,” a smile curled on Eddie’s lips. “Actually, you kinda did.”

—------

Charlene was on the plane to Hawaii when she read the newspaper article.

A glass of first-class champagne and a window to her right, an empty aisle seat to her left.

There he was, right on the front page of The Hawkins Post:

Steve.

In a bigger city, a business changing hands could fly under the radar, but in a small town, it was newsworthy when a local biker and bouncer becomes a business owner overnight.

A Cinderella story, the reporter called it.

The cover photo was of him out on the sidewalk, standing next to the red door entrance to the Velvet Hammer. Shana was in the photo with him, as were Robin, Jackie, Erika, and you.

Not pictured was Eddie Munson, whom the article mentioned Steve had chosen to take on as a partner.

The article talked about their plans for the Hammer, including bringing in a tattoo studio to the vacant storage space next door.

She ran her finger over his face on the newsprint.

It wasn’t until the end of the article that she got the wind knocked out of her:

“Steve and his longtime partner, Astrid Bautista, are expecting their first child together in the spring.”

She hadn’t expected that.

She had to look away and take a generous gulp of champagne.

Her eyes got a little wet and her vision blurred, but she read it again.

“Did you miss me?” Billy sank into the seat next to her with his sunglasses on and a white shirt unbuttoned almost to the waist of his jeans. He smiled around the pink gum he was chewing and craned his neck to see what she was reading, but she folded the paper hastily and turned it over.

She didn’t answer him, she just stared out the window over the clouds and tried to forget she ever felt a thing.

------

authors note: wow, we did it. This is my first fic series to finish ever 😭 If you've made it this far, you know how much this story and the characters have evolved since those first couple chapters. If this were an actual novel, I'd go back and make it all sync up, give it more continuity, and reveal nicknames like War Machine and Taz earlier in the game. But the cool thing about posting this way for a fandom is that you, the reader, are able to see in real time how the characters develop a mind of their own and take over the story in a way not even the writer can predict. In this case specifically, you can also see how I went from having no idea how to write a reader insert fic to becoming more and more comfortable with it.

I never had any intention of making Charlene a villain. She was literally based off of the wealthy woman in the Bruce Springsteen video for his song I'm on Fire. Just a gal who had a crush on her mechanic. Some of you voiced that you wished Charlene could get killed, or hurt somehow, and for those of you, you can trust that she is hurting. Knowing that Steve will be having a family with someone else is a deep wound.

I've had several requests for a separate biker Steve story with a new reader, and until two chapters ago, I fully intended to follow through on that. But the more I wrote him with Astrid, the more I felt it was wrong to keep them apart. If you are a fan of their love story, I highly recommend visiting THIS masterlist from @texasblues who created Astrid's character. But I do plan to bring a slightly different biker Steve back in a new au, stay tuned 🥰

This of course, is not the end. I plan to drop an epilogue on you all when you least expect it, and it will take place a year or two after the events here. If you are a friend of mine, you will laugh at this because whenever I say I'm going to write an epilogue, I never do. But this time I mean it.

I can't express in words how much your comments, asks, and messages about this story have meant, and will always mean to me. I was living through one of the darkest years of my life when I joined tumblr back in April and started writing this fic, and you all have held me together, whether you realize it or not. I love you and am deeply grateful for you all.

Taglist: @notsobubblybaby @unfocused81 @aysheashea @etherealglimmer@manicmagicmayhem @dream-a-little-nightmare@chaoticgood-munson @emxcast @rhirojo @bexreadstoomuch @micheledawn1975 @falling-solar-system@secretdryrose

@whatwedontdointheshadows @miarosso @seventhlevelofhell @corrodedcoffincumslut @lofaewrites @goldyghoul @chloe-6123 @kelsiegrin @chelebelletx @stylesxmunson @kurdtbean@dandelionnfluff @clincallyonline17 @tlclick73 @eddiemunson95 @sidthedollface2 @hideoutside @truffleshuffle12 @tenthmoon @texasblues@emilyslutface@mmunson86@onegirlmanytales@laylaloves-ed@dashingdeb16@eddiiiieeee @ick90 @dashingdeb16 @polyestermonster @trixyvixx @atomickaratel8dy @kiyastrf94 @allthingsjoeq @eddiesxangel @razzieth @corrodeddeadlydoll @erinekc @angietherose @sllooney @writinginthetwilight @moonbeamsandmayhem @brianamunson92 @joannamuns9n @bellalillyrose @alba8688 @chevelle724

#Eddie Munson #biker!eddie #biker!steve #I'm on Fire #final chapter #the ties that bind #Eddie Munson series #Eddie Munson fic #Spotify

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siren-serenity · 8 months

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Sub goo please please please please please please please lease please please please

SUB! GOO

"You dirty little whore," You grunt and Goo almost cums from hearing your words. He nods, bobbing his head and hollowing his cheeks. "Such a professional cock sucker, hmm?" You tightened your grip on his blond locks, your eyes meeting his teary ones. "You want to swallow or my cum splattered on your face?" Goo urgently pointed to his throat and he sucked on your cock frantically, tongue swirling around the veiny parts. "Fuck!"

characters: kim jonggoo/goo, gn!reader (mentions having a cock but can be interpreted/seen as a strap on) warnings: nsfw, dom/sub relationships, takes place during 'hunt for big deal' arc, degradation, swearing, oral (character receiving) a/n: - for some reason, goo gives me masochist vibes haha - feedback is appreciated!

It's midnight in the city of Seoul. Skyscrapers lit up the cloudy skies, illuminating the clouds with their lights and essentially lighting up the world. The streets are silent, lest common folks want to get mixed up with the rumored gang fights or the average delinquent that roams during nights like these.

An intimidating, black Porshe pulls up on a dusty street. Rowdy noises can be heard a few meters away and Gun sighs, combing his hair with his fingers.

"The Workers just don't listen," He mutters bitterly, giving a glance to you and Goo who is busy playing some stupid game on his phone. "Stay here. Y/N, make sure the blond idiot doesn't do something idiotic."

You chuckle, leaning back into the leather seats and crossing your arms behind your head. "Relax, Gun. You can trust me."

He scoffed. Grabbing a black umbrella under his seat, Gun opened it with a smooth flourish before stepping out of the car.

"Trust is not the word I would use," He rolled his eyes. "But yes, I trust you more than him."

With a middle finger from Goo, Gun disappears into the rain and night. It's even more silent now, except for the occasional pings! from Goo's phone. Your eye twitches with every ping! as you tried to get some sleep.

ping! ping! ping! ping-

"For God's sake," You snatched the phone from him before tossing it into the boot of the car. Now, the pings are muffled and nothing could be heard except for your breaths and his. You breathe out in relief, leaning back into the leather seats. "Fucking-finally."

"What the fuck?" Goo spat out, glaring at you under his glasses. He climbed onto your lap, loosely hanging his arms around your neck and he straddles your waist. Goo leaned in. "You made me bored, Y/N."

Suddenly, Goo grinded his ass onto your cock and you almost let out a gasp of surprise. Blood flowed downwards and your cock just grew impossibly harder. You spat out curses, curling your fist inwards until your nails made crescent shaped blood marks on your skin.

Goo laughed. "I'm bored!"

A tight grip around his waist made him pause in his movements.

"This is Gun's car," You hissed out. "Stop."

A lightbulb seemed to flash over his head. Somehow, he managed to push Gun's seat forward so there was more leg space. He knelt in the cramped area and his face almost pressed into your bulge. A devilish smirk blossoms on his face. His hands reach out to nudge the zipper before giving you pleading eyes.

"I want," He whines. Goo rubs his face over your clothed cock and you grip onto the leather seats, biting back a groan, before nodding.

His eyes glint as he almost tears the zipper down and your cock springs out. Goo's eyes widened; you didn't wear undergarments.

"What are you waiting for?" You lean forward, putting your head in your palm and tilting it. Your eyes glint cruelly. "Suck."

No hesitation was seen in his movements as Goo opened his mouth to envelope your cock. The taste of you on his tongue made his eyes roll backward to reveal pearly whites. He whimpered at the aching feeling of his erection, a hand sliding downwards to cup it.

Your rough hands grip onto his blond hair, making him tilt his head back. Little rivers of drool trail down his chin and drip onto his expensive suit but Kim Jonggoo doesn't give two shits. "You want this?" You forced his head down and he lets out a choked sound when your cock triggers his gag reflex. Your cruel smirk makes his little heart jump and you nudge his hard cock with your shoe. "Hump." Not surprisingly, Goo begins with vigor, your cock in his mouth and humping your shoe to ease the pain of his hard-on.

"You dirty little whore," You grunt and Goo almost cums from hearing your words. He nods, bobbing his head and hollowing his cheeks. "Such a professional cock sucker, hmm?"

You tightened your grip on his blond locks, your eyes meeting his teary ones. "You want to swallow or my cum splattered on your face?"

Goo urgently pointed to his throat and he sucked on your cock frantically, tongue swirling around the veiny parts.

"Fuck!"

You arch your back slightly off the leather seats as a wave of heat washed over you. Goo let out a grunt as he swallowed all of your cum before opening his mouth, revealing nothing.

"Tastes so good," He rasps out, swallowing again. His blond hair was mussed up and his glasses was fogged over. Yet, there was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes.

"You're not done yet," You nudge his erection with the tip of your leather shoes and Goo swallows a whimper. "You want a little help?"

There was no need for audible communication. You lifted him up by the arms and set him on your thigh. Getting the message, Goo slowly moved himself forward and backward in a slow pace before picking up. His calloused hands grip your shoulders and the only words he could say in his haze of lust was your name.

"Fuck!"

His back arched beautifully in the dim lighting of the car as he orgasmed, body shuddering and mouth open to let out a breathy moan.

Your pants were wet as Goo slumped forward, hair lolling and thumping on your shoulder. His open lips pressed on your button-up shirt and you ran a hand through his sweaty hair.

"Bored now?" You teased.

Goo gave you a middle finger and you laughed at his face, cheeks burning and his perfect image ruined.

...

"DID YOU GUYS FUCK IN MY CAR?!"

#lookism #lookism x reader #sub lookism #dom reader #sub goo #sub kim jonggoo #kim jonggoo #goo kim

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nanamimizz · 2 months

Note

you convince yourself javiers a beta for so long until he gives you the bandanna he uses to cover his face because he can let himself get caught but it's not good if you do.

so you let him wrap it around you and let his fingers brush against your nape when he ties it for you. and you inhale his scent so closely for the first time and it's like you know right away. can feel him linger in your senses and make the omega in you whine and preen and you think oh.

you mumble all shocked him being an alpha and he's surprised. so surprised he stops and laughs and asks, you think a beta could care for you this well?

tags: 18+ minors dni / omegaverse / omega reader / alpha javier / let me know if i miss something

The night is cool which is why the burning of Javier’s warm hands looping through your hair to tie his bandanna around your face makes you tremble. You can still hear the shooting and yelling of the stagecoaches you had just robbed with the others in the distance.

You were only the bait - a pretty, sweet smelling omega to draw out the victims of your ploy to have them be robbed of everything short of their drawers and the gang is taking precautions to make sure no one picks up on your face. Javier is grinning at you as the too big fabric goes around your nose and drapes down to your chest.

It smells like him - light and sweet of spring water with the depth of petrichor.

So much so it makes you swoon, preening out little chirps as you are soothed with the scent of an alpha over the adrenaline of the robbery. So much so you are leaning into him, until the crown of your head rests against his chest to purr and you can hear Javier laugh as he coos out to you.

“You’re n’ alpha?” you mumble with lidded eyes and rubbing your cheek into his chest for more - more of his scent, more of the rain and the sweet spring water. You can hear him laugh gently into the night air, the moon bright among the sea of night and his hand settles on the top of your head. Javier has nice hands, you’ve noticed it when he sits to play his guitar and when he plays finger filet at the table with the other men. The calloused palms settle on your hair with a softness you never would have thought he could exhibit and it makes you whine all the more for it.

“You think a beta could take care of you this well?” Javier jests, tone light and jesting but you hear the shock coloring the words. It makes you look up at him and you whimper at how handsome he is in the moonlight - pretty dark eyes fanned by long lashes, scars adding to his face’s charms. If you had a tail it would be swishing behind you making it so obvious at the fluttering in your stomach at being so close to a handsome alpha, a strong alpha, an alpha that -

“-smells so good.” you mumble, purring as you rub against his chest. You feel him twitch and clearing his throat ; you don’t know it but you’re scenting him and scenting him well, covering Javier in the decadent scent of cinnamon and vanilla omega-want that’s making it hard for him to focus on leading you both back to camp.

Especially when so many instincts in his body are telling him to scent you back, to take you off Boaz and to take you here - in the open where the downwind can carry the scent of sweet rain and warm cinnamon so everyone can know what occured in between the trees.

“Come now, let me take you back to camp -“

You whine in indignation. You don’t want to go back to camp, you want your alpha ; you flush at the thought of an alpha like Javier being yours and chirp in embarrassment. He laughs a little under his breath at the sound, grinning boyishly at how you hide from him. You’re exactly what he thought you’d be like - bashful little omega who wants so earnestly.

“I’ll let you scent me all you want when we are there.” He promises, voice soft with adoration that makes your ears twitch. Your face still hidden from his view is warm to the touch and you only nod to show your willingness. Javier laughs under breath and makes sure the bandana is on.

He doesn’t want the law to get your pretty face on any wanted papers. Nor does he want to share the sweet little lovestruck love on your face when you look at him to be seen by anyone else.

“Do you promise alpha?” You ask, so timid and eager it makes his teeth cut into his lip from how far his grin stretches.

“Yeah, promise.”

#lamb.writes #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella x you #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 x you #abo dynamics #tw: abo #cw: abo #omegaverse

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outlaw-apologist · 1 year

Text

The Gang Catching Feelings For You (RDR2)

The gang catching feelings for you! (Mostly GN) Characters: Arthur, Charles, Trelawny, Hosea, Micah Warnings: Micah’s story contains mentions of gender Note: This one was written for @onceuponadie sorry it took me forever to bang this out. :’) AO3 Version Arthur At first you thought you might be annoying Arthur. He always seemed really awkward when you tried to help out or when you stopped him to make sure his satchel was filled with new supplies before he left camp. Arthur becomes stiff when you’re around. Half of the time he could hardly hold eye contact. It made you feel bad. You were only trying to make his tasks easier. Everyone always had such huge expectations of Arthur. No one cared if there was enough stew leftover for him when he returned to camp, or if the supplies were rationed out to him. You took notice of this quickly, their behavior was beyond you. The man doing the most work for the gang should be supported.

“Thank ya’ kindly.” He usually responded whenever he caught you in the act, tipping his hat down to cover his eyes. It wasn’t in a rude way… just… awkward. It was hard to decode exactly how he felt about it and you assumed he’d speak up if he wanted you to stop and so you kept on doing your thing. You hadn’t seen Arthur in a few days. According to Hosea he went out hunting to replenish the camp’s food supply. Not something unusual. The day was lovely, naturally you decided you wanted to get away from the gang for awhile – in need of some serious space and fresh air – and help out by bringing something in. Fishing sounded nice! Not so close by, as you didn’t want anyone bothering you. You took your horse to a beautiful area you had heard so much about. Cumberland Falls. What you didn’t expect was to see a familiar outlaw fussing with his horse near the bank of the Dakota River. You slowed your horse to a walk, heading his way. Arthur’s voice carried was over the water in the cold spring breeze. “You’re alright girl. Just let me take a look at it. Easy now-” “Is she alright?” You called out. Arthur’s head snapped up and he gave a shrug. “Got ambushed by some O’Driscoll boys. Shot her leg pretty good. Hope she don’t go lame on me.” You could hear the upset in Arthur’s voice even as he tried to act casual. He had a close bond with his horse, something you had always admired. Dismounting your own, you rummaged through your satchel while approaching him. “Here- this might help until we can get her looked at.” You gently pushed a bottle of horse tonic into his palm. Arthur was slow to take it, interlocking your fingers together as he wrapped his much larger hand around the glass bottle. His eyes were on yours, gaze electric and intense. “Thank you.” His voice wasn’t shy this time. He wasn’t turning away from you as he usually did. “You look exhausted.” Your words were gentle, not meaning any offense. “Take my horse, I’ll lead yours so you can rest.” “That’s really not necessary-” Arthur trailed off as you took the reigns from him. He could tell there was no room for argument here. With a small grunt he turned to give his horse the tonic. In truth, Arthur was feeling pretty upset about his horse. Maybe it was the stress of everything. The weight of Backwater on his shoulders. His mind was racing yet, calm, at the same time. How was that possible? He didn’t know. The only other time he felt that way was with Mary. But you? Your actions were so genuine. It made him feel… better. Unexpectedly this was hard for him to accept. Why was someone treating him with so much empathy? Maybe you pitied him, an old man that had no value outside of stealing and shooting for dollars. However, he thinks he understands now. It wasn’t pity. Pity doesn’t make someone manifest from thin air when he wishes they were there. And yeah, it probably was coincidence this time, but damn did it feel natural. It felt… right… As if you two were being drawn to each other like magnets. You see him for who he is and you accept him no questions asked. “Somehow… You always know where to find me when I need you. What would I do without you?” “I guess we’ll never know.” Arthur’s stomach fluttered with butterflies when you flashed him that brilliant smile of yours. Maybe it was time for him to move on and find love again. ___ Charles You liked Charles. Being around him was peaceful. He, like you, enjoys the serenity that comes with nature; and so you two were often found in proximity of each other working on your respective crafts or doing a quiet activity while taking in the day. You didn’t know much about each other. He was a quiet man and you… well, you tried not to talk about yourself unless asked. Over time you observed things about him. It was hard not to. Charles is a dedicated man. Always would his brow furrow when concentrating on his work. He would give a little grunt of victory whenever something came out particularly good that he was proud of. You noticed he would stop to admire a beautiful feather on the ground, or an interesting rock. If animals wondered by your hang-out Charles would put down his work to watch them with a small smile. Fondness for Charles began to grow in your heart. You had feelings for Charles first. You never said or did anything to convey this, of course. It was hard to tell how Charles felt about you and… You know he wouldn’t be unkind towards you if he knew, but you didn’t think he’d feel the same way. Instead you carried on as normal. As time went on this became a little difficult. Every time someone in camp had something to say about him, you were either defending Charles or singing his praises. Not obnoxiously so, but enough to make a few of the gang members suspicious. Despite an odd look here and there, no one said a word. Not even Charles himself. Charles too had wondered at times what your words would mean when you would tell Bill to shut up because Charles was the best hunter they had. Or when you would threaten Micah’s life whenever it looked like he was about to say a slur. It couldn’t be- right? Charles knew he made himself too boring and unassuming… You were probably just being a good friend. “Hey Charles.” You greeted, sitting beside him by the fire in front of Shady Bell. “I know this really isn’t your thing but I have a lead in Saint Denis and I… Well, I need a husband so I can get into this party.” You flashed a shy but goofy grin. “Find someone else.” You blinked in surprise. You knew it probably wasn’t personal but his cold reaction did sting a little. “C’mon.” You gently nudged him. “It’s not really my thing. I don’t think I can help you.” “I know, but I need someone who’ll keep their head. I don’t trust the others not to ruin it.” Charles turned to study your face. You didn’t usually go on jobs like this, nor did you normally ask for help. The mission must have been worth it. “Alright, let’s go.” Charles looked stunning. Trelawny called in a favor from someone in the city and was able to pull together extravagant outfits for the both of you. Charles tied his hair back and… damn did the man clean up well. It was unnatural seeing him this way. It didn’t suit him at all, you loved his usual look more than anything. But hey- you could admire Prince Charles for one evening. Heads turned as you both walked into the small garden party. It wasn’t anything over the top. Mostly it was rich women chatting together. You had met them previously and pretended you were married to a rich man in an attempt to gain access into their society. It worked… A little too well. They were eager to meet your husband. Charles was certainly not who they had expected. “Oh-” One of the women’s faces fell. Judgment danced in their eyes. “You’re married to…” Her mouth opened and closed. Immediately you spoke up before something unsavory was said. “This is my darling husband Charles Wilson.” “Mr. Wilson” A younger woman extended her hand for Charles to kiss. “Y/N tells us you’re quite the talented agricultural tycoon.” “Is that so?” Charles shot you an amused look. “I try to be humble but in plain terms, you can say that.” “How wonderful it is a man of your stature could be so… influential.” “Oh come now Mrs. Jones. I’d love to hear all about it. Our husbands aren’t half as interesting.” A third lady giggled. You gave Charles an apologetic look. You hated leaving him here but the thousands of dollars worth of jewelry weren’t going to steal its self. “I’m afraid, ladies, I feel a bit ill today. May I excuse myself?” “Of course, dear. We’ll keep your husband company. The powder room is upstairs to your left.” You slipped in and out easy enough. The jewelry wasn’t hard to find. Upon returning you rejoined everyone. Charles did look a bit bored and you could only imagine what these women were saying to your sweet handsome husband. “Thank you.” You turned to Charles as you both left for the night. He had an arm wrapped around you, supporting his ‘ill’ partner. “I know they were terrible and I feel bad for dragging you into this.” “Not at all. I’m used to it. It doesn’t help that I’m not exactly husband material.” Charles tried to make fun of himself to lighten the mood but it only made you feel heavier. “Don’t say that.” You squeezed his shoulder. “That’s not true at all.” Maybe it was the drinks you had at the party, but suddenly you just couldn’t keep it in anymore. “Charles you are one of the gentlest people I’ve ever met. You’re compassionate and considerate. You’re so appreciative of everything around you. You don’t speak much but when you do you’re so damn articulate. I could listen to you talk for days and days and still be in awe of how brilliant your mind is. You’re just…” You ran your fingers through your hair while sucking in a sobering breath. “So beautiful. And handsome, but that’s a story for another time.” A nervous laugh erupted from your lips. You probably went too far this time. “It’s an honor being seen next to you.” Thick awkward silence blanked the evening for the longest time. How could he respond to something like that? It sounded…. It sounded as though you genuinely liked him? “You really mean that?” Charles’ voice was filled with doubt. You were probably only saying those things because you felt bad for putting him in such a position. Though, it was nice to hear someone point out good things about his character and not just what he was useful for. No one had ever said anything like that to him before. It made his heart skip a beat. “I do.” Charles hummed with happiness. He believed you. “I’ll be your husband again. Maybe not for a party of rich white people, but we make a pretty couple. I’m sure we can find a way.” His gaze met yours fondly. Maybe one day being your husband won’t be an act but a reality. ___ Micah “There you are dead-weight.” You could have groan as the voice of none other than Micah Bell reached your ears. You were having a nice afternoon reading in the trees not far from camp. Ever since the gang left Colter Micah’s been on your back – for whatever reason – and it was getting on your last nerve. Dead-weight was his new favorite thing to call you. If it wasn’t that then it was probably ‘piglet’. You eat Pearson’s stew at camp around him one time and he was enraged because you ‘didn’t do enough to earn it’. He wasn’t every creative. It wasn’t that you didn’t pull your weight, because you did. You’re a real hard worker. But you also value your alone time and Micah… Well, he caught onto that real quick. Every damn time you wandered off for a moment to yourself he managed to find you one way or another. You were at the end of your rope. “Shouldn’t you be makin’ yourself useful? Go make money on your back or somethin’ like the other girls.” You looked up at him over your book while he scoffed at you. All you could do was snort in amusement. “Maybe you should go make money on your back, Micah. Though, I can’t imagine anyone would want to fuck your grimey unwashed ass.” Micah’s face twisted up in both confusion and rage. How dare you insinuate something so… Queer? So disgusting? He didn’t know what to say and you watched as he struggled to come up with a response. “I bring in the money, I don’t wash the clothes.” “And what money have you brought in?” Your voice was calm and measured. “Only Arthur and I’ve been bringing in the big bucks.” “I’ve been out workin’ real jobs that’ll bring in more than you and cowpoke have scrounged up in weeks.” You simply shut your book. “Sure you are, shit-ass.” Oh- a huge smile crossed your face. That’s what you’ll call him for now on. Micah seemed to catch on, realization flashing across his face. He suddenly threw his head back with a hearty laugh. Never had he thought you’d return his energy. Not many people did. Arthur probably would but that man was beat into the ground and no fun in his opinion. But you? Hilarious! “I like that. I’ll remember that next time.” He loved it. He picked on you because he wanted to stare at your ass while you work around camp. He didn’t like it when his entertainment left his sight. To be honest Micah didn’t think anything would develop between the two of you. He considered you just as pathetic as Molly… But now… Maybe you did have a bite to you. An inkling of suspicion crept into your thoughts when you caught the joy in his eyes. Oh god- this was just the beginning. Micah was going to have his fun. ___ Josiah Josiah couldn’t help himself. He had to flirt with everything and anything he found beautiful. You were no exception. He didn’t expect anything to come of it. Nothing ever did. You laughed at his magic tricks and scolded him whenever you and Arthur had to get him out of trouble. You were just… Ordinary in his life. Like anyone else. You liked Josiah well enough. The two of you would talk about a show you’ve seen or a book you’ve read. However, you found yourself drawn to him as if there were a magnetic field pulling you in. Whenever Josiah would pop back up or walk into camp you seemed to jump up and greet him before anyone else could. Immediately you’d ask him how he was or where he’s been. Josiah thought it was amusing the first few times. You must have felt bad because no one else really cares if he’s there or not. “What’ve you been up to Mr. Trelawny?” You ask every time, leaning forward with an interested smile. He enjoyed you humoring him. “Well my dear, you see, there were these wolves-” always would he reply with some fabricated story with half-truths. You didn’t seem to mind. When Josiah had his face smashed in by bounty hunters in Rhodes the sting of embarrassment was greater than the pain. All because of you. It felt almost humiliating, letting you see him that way. Half expecting you to scold him or roll your eyes like usual, he was shocked as you gently took his chin and turned his head so you could examine him. “Does it hurt?” “Don’t worry about me, dear friend.” “You didn’t answer the question.” You pursed your lips in frustration. Josiah ran a hand through his hair. He squirmed under your concerned gaze, not used to gentle eyes being turned his way. It was weird. Truly strange. You carefully wiped the blood from his face and for once Josiah remained silent. Had you genuinely cared for him this whole time? His heart fluttered… Maybe… It’s silly to think, in his mind, but just maybe… He could start caring for you in the same way. ___ Hosea You follow Hosea around like a puppy at times. If a job had to be done, you were right there with Arthur to company him. Fishing? Your pole would be out with bait on the hook or you’d sit beside him with a book in hand. You simply wanted to enjoy peace of his presence as he fished. It wasn’t annoying by any means. You’re not loud or presumptuous about it and it seemed as if you always knew exactly when he needed alone time or when he wanted space. Hosea enjoyed it. His boys were all grown and doing their own thing. Everyone now saw him as an old man. For awhile he did jobs on his own. Seeing who’s house he could slip into to make their pockets hurt. Now? He had a partner in crime who always understood his vision. It was fantastic! You two swap books when you’re done reading them and talk in length about philosophy. There was a certain deepness to your relationship. At first, Hosea saw you as a kindred spirit. You were someone who matched him like a puzzle piece. He spilled all of his heartaches to you as well as his hopes and dreams. Bessie was a big one. He’d speak of her when the gang was huddled around the fire at times. But there were things he couldn’t tell anyone. Not even Dutch who understood the loss of a woman he loved. When Hosea gave in, letting the emotions and memories of his dearly departed beloved spill from his lips like knocked over ink, you listened carefully. Offering empathy in ways Hosea didn’t even know he needed. In return he listened to your own heavy thoughts, offering his arms to cry in when needed. The whole gang knew about you and Hosea before you and Hosea figured it out for yourselves. “I think we should also bring Y/N to the party.” Hosea proposed in the midst of hashing out details from the mayor of Saint Denis. “Of course you do.” Ditch rolled his eyes, causing Hosea to cross his arms offensively. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “C’mon, look at’cha. I haven’t seen you like this in a long time, Hosea. Just ask them out already.” Hosea’s moth opened in protest but no words escaped. It took several seconds for Dutch’s words to properly click. All he could do was lean back against his chair. “You don’t think it’s too late for me?” His old friend shot him a weary smile. “It’s never too late for love.” For once Dutch was right. Hosea hummed to himself, conjuring a picture of the two of you together as an official couple. It did feel right. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

#Arthur Morgan #Charles Smith #Micah Bell #hosea matthews #josiah trelawny #Arthur Morgan x Reader #Charles Smith x reader #Micah Bell x Reader #Hosea Matthews x reader #RDR2 Imagines #RDR2 Reader Insert #rdr2 #READER INSERT

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bubblegumbayleigh · 2 years

Text

chapstick

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: steve tries to pick out a chapstick for the ever-so picky reader. things get passionate as an overwhelming memory sheds light on their true feelings.

word count: [2.2k]

cw: nothing really. fluffy but spicy yearning, slightly touchy (?), long-awaited kiss, robin being a little shit hehe

an: this is the first fanfiction I've actually finished and posted so eek! super nervous. probs super messy and short so please forgive me! anyways crush to best friend to lover steve is cute,, also I've been listening to meet me in the pale moonlight so that was the mood I wrote this in. enjoy lovelies <3

“What about this one?”

You looked over your shoulder to see your best friend Steve, who had been rattling through your endless box of colourful, flavoured chapsticks for the past hour, splayed out on your bed.

He was entirely determined to find the perfect flavour for you before you two had to leave to see the gang for a movie, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed in dedication whilst the plastic clatter filled the room all afternoon. He was nowhere near giving up, despite the ache of his elbows digging into your mattress and the frustration of your instant dismissal of his every suggestion.

That was until he found one he recognised a few moments prior. Now his expression was full of gratification, holding the small pink tube to your face, rolling it between his finger and thumb. It read “strawberries and cream” along its length, and the cap was visibly loose from its frequent use. Your expression softened and a smile adorned your blushing face.

“I haven’t used that since like, sixth grade, don’t remind me”, you turned back to your vanity mirror, continuing to brush your hair, glancing at him in its reflection ever so often. A part of you hoped he would have remembered the little plastic tube, but why would retired king Steve Harrington remember what was smudged on your lips years ago, anyway? It’s not like you spent every day applying that specific chapstick just for him, knowing it was his favourite as you overheard from a passing conversation.

Younger you was… impossibly desperate for his attention; you struggled with the thought that maybe that urge never truly left.

This time, you didn’t hear the disheartened drop of the chapstick back into the box as he had done a million times before, instead, a pop of the lid shot your head back around to face him again. He had pressed the tip to his lips, dragging it carefully along the top and then down to the bottom, applying more pressure as the chapstick threatened to run out. It may have also been fueled by your eyes fixated on his movements, a smirk curving the edge of his mouth upwards.

Followed by a smack of his lips, you were out of your trance; they looked even softer, pinker. More delicate and plush than ever before, if that was possible.

“Seventh.”

“Hm?” You bit your lips and looked back up to meet his gaze in a frenzy. Maybe it was to suppress anything idiotic which would have spilt out of you in response, or just to relieve yourself of the ache which throbbed within you.

You plopped down next to him, facing the ceiling. It still made you nervous to be so close. The impact made Steve’s entire body spring slightly off the mattress, his hair flopping over his eyes. He lifted his palm to swoop the hair back, then settled it down above himself.

“It wasn’t sixth grade, it was seventh.” Steve replaced the lid with a snap and plopped backwards, legs dangling off your fluffy pink bed with his much larger body, a sigh of defeat escaping through his smile. “I remember noticing something different about you, then the missing shape of the chapstick in your left pocket..”

“But worst of all, I could never smell strawberries whenever you were close enough to me. It was comforting, y’know? Like, even if I closed my eyes, I knew you were there.”

“You paid attention to that?” You fiddled with the hem of your dress, too nervous to turn and look him in his eyes.

“It’s embarrassing, I know. We weren’t even that close back then and all.” Steve was equally as nervous to look back at you, he felt like his words were bubbling out of his mouth, frothing, and he just couldn’t stop it. He was scared, and even more anxious to admit that to himself.

What made it so much worse was the feeling of your dress brushing along his arms, barely even touching him; thoughts of the same fabric covering your bare skin.

“No.” You mewled. “I don’t think it’s embarrassing at all.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

A few seconds of dead silence passed, a strenuous effort from both of you. It felt more like an hour, more thoughts circulating around your brain than what the average person should endure.

Although you spoke last, you could feel another sentence approaching your lips, but a blunt ache filled your throat like stacks of cotton balls.

Steve spoke first, as if it was a custom.

“Why did you stop wearing it?”

You feared this question would arise eventually. It wasn’t like you could just say that you lost feelings for him because, in all honesty, you didn’t. You never did, you just tried to make yourself believe it after seeing Steve’s hundredth new girlfriend of the week. It made you sick. He was just so much different from who he is now. You can’t remember a single girl he dated in the past year despite his incessant popularity, which is a drastically different track record from his earlier years.

“I guess I just got bored of it. Peach became more my style, it brings in the ladies. You would know, Harrington.” You scoffed and nudged him with your elbow in an attempt to hide the crack in your voice. You thought maybe lightening the conversation would help, but the almost mute giggles you both gave provided no comfort.

If anything, it made the conversation tenser, and you could feel both of you were mere seconds away from snapping. It had never been this tense with your best friend before, although you could sense it building over the past few days. Hands brushing over thighs, chests grazing past backs, fingertips on waists.

You thought you only imagined it, but it was clear as day that Steve felt the same now, too. It was, different.

Steve finally rolled onto his side, elbow propping him up to let him look into your eyes. You could see his lip quiver in anticipation of speaking again, the smile from earlier dropping slowly from his face as the cogs were turning in his brain.

“Could you, maybe, wear it again?”

He whispered. It was only now that you noticed the glimmer of desperation and want in his eyes, resembling that of a puppy.

“Er,” You gulped from the heat of the sudden attention. “Well, yeah. I could.”

His expression softened as if he was expecting a different answer, but he was entirely relieved at your reply. He handed you the chapstick, and the pattern of his breathing became quiet as if he was holding it in an effort to not make noise. Taking it, you popped the lid once more.

To your shock, the tube was near to empty. After using a generous amount each day for years, you were surprised there was anything left for Steve to use. Despite this, you just couldn’t bear seeing the craving expression embellish his features.

“Empty.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I should have used less.”

Your voices barely reached a whisper. The moment felt intimate, the eye contact was unbreakable, but didn’t feel forced or awkward. However, your nerves were increasingly creeping up, engulfing your cheeks in soft blush and sending a tingle of adrenaline up your spine.

His face was closer now, body attempting to glance over into the chapstick, but his eyes wouldn’t budge from yours. You realised what he meant now, the smell of the strawberry; it was entrancing. Whether that was the chapstick or the fact his lips were centimetres away from your face made your eyebrows knit in thought.

Suddenly, a stupid thought flooded everything else.

“That's okay. There’s still some left.”

The puzzled expression on Steve’s face only drove you over the edge, rolling your entire body weight on top of him, pinning him below you as you straddled his lap.

You never realised how gorgeous he looked laid against your pillows, although he would laze about your bed regularly. But his hands were thrown up at his sides as if he was under arrest, hesitating around your waist. His eyes didn’t have the same desperate twinkle they had seconds before, and you could no longer grasp a sense of his thoughts.

A deep sensation of embarrassment and regret set in you; how you completely misread the situation will never be lived down, if you even stayed friends after this. All you could do was hope you would both laugh it off, move on, and forget this ever happened. In a sudden movement, you tried to push yourself back onto your knees and lift yourself from his lap.

“Shit. Steve, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

There was a grip around your thighs and a gasp escaped your lips. His hands no longer hovered over you, the tips of his fingers digging into the flesh directly under your ass with an eager desperation. His eyes filled again with the sparkle from before, chest rising up and down steadily as he scanned over your features.

“No, i-it’s okay.”

It was his turn to be shy, his grip on you becoming softer as he started to regret his unexpected touches. Still, his hands remained on your thighs, guiding your body back down onto him; relaxing your tensed-up muscles with gentle drags of his thumb. A low grunt escaped him as your weight pressed down onto his crotch, breathing heavier than before.

The look from before wasn’t fright or disgust, but the sheer fear of messing up the moment he had anticipated for so long, nerves shaking his fingertips. He was burning to touch you for weeks now. Not that he wasn’t this impatient years prior, but the yearning feeling near-drove him to insanity at this point. Your beauty, your scent, your innocent touches and glances. Naturally, he couldn’t help but fantasize about your taste.

“Y-you said there’s-” He paused to take a breath, trying to calculate your next move. “Said there’s-- more?”

The realization hit you as you remembered what got you here in the first place, words hitching in your throat.

“Yeah I mean, I-”

“Show me.”

That was all you needed to slam your lips down onto his, all of the remaining tensions snapping at lightning speeds. As cliché as it was, it felt like fireworks exploding all over your body, a bright flash and ringing in your ears as everything seemed so much grander than before.

All of your senses were melting, your thoughts ablaze. You could feel Steve whine into the kiss as he breathed out his nose in relief, his shaking hands running up your thighs, lightly brushing up your skirt, past your hips and onto your waist. One hand trailed further up, slipping past your jaw to lightly caress your cheek and deepen the kiss, tilting your head slightly to the right.

As confident as he tried to appear, Steve was about to break. He thought maybe a kiss would soothe the burn, but if anything, it only fueled the heat to twice the size. It was never like this, with anyone else, ever. He realised a couple of months back that he in fact did not want anyone else.

Ever.

He wanted you, nobody else but you.

You could feel Steve getting restless, his fidgety hands squeezing you slightly harder than before, his tongue threatening to slip past your lips any second. He was too bashful and nervous to push through, but the need was most definitely there.

A crunching sound of tires arriving at your house knocked you both back to consciousness. You pulled back to see Steve’s kiss-drunk expression, his hair messy, eyes glossy and low, blush spilling over his nose to both cheeks to match his lips. It was a sight you would give anything to see again.

“Movie” He barely muttered, keeping his eyes on yours to signal how keen he was to keep you right where you were. He refused to admit he knew you both had to go. Gently, he brought your face back down to his with both hands and kissed you again, softly.

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

“Jeez, only honked like, thirty times? Where were you?” Eddie slammed his hands down onto the wheel as you both emerged from your house, trying to seem as normal as possible.

As you turned to lock the door behind you, Steve noticed your dress clinging to where he pushed it up before. He quickly pulled it back down with a swift move of his hand, an exchanged look of panic and a nervous laugh buffering the silence after Eddie’s question.

You slipped into the front as Steve slipped to the back next to Robin, who had an undeniable smirk on her face.

“Sorry, makeup dilemma. Right, Stevie?” You brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, smoothing your dress down and resting your hands into your lap, seemingly as innocent as ever.

Eddie did nothing but sigh, starting the car with a roll of his eyes and a bite of his lower lip. The great thing about Eddie was that he was almost always completely oblivious to the things happening around him, including this.

“You will be. You too Harrington.” He shot a look back to Steve who rolled his eyes and kept his usual dorky expression. You almost couldn’t believe how smoothly you both pulled that off.

“So” Robin scoffed. Your heart dropped.

“Since when do you wear pink chapstick, Stevie?”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #stranger things #stranger things x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve x reader #harrington x reader #robin buckley #eddie munson

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many-shades-of-violence · 1 year

Text

Gambling Debts

✢ pairing: Yoru x Reader. ✢ characters: Yoru, Jett, Phoenix, Raze, Killjoy, Brim, Gekko ✢ word count: 5.000 ✢ contents: nsfw, pegging, brat taming, gun violence

It was a late spring afternoon when you entered the headquarters of the Valorant Protocol through the main hatch. The serene melodies of chirping birds faded as the warm sunlight caressed your skin, only to be replaced by the heavy thud of the metal hatch closing behind you. With a determined stride, you pressed forward, your black sweat-drenched uniform clinging to your body, traces of soot from your recent mission adorning your cheeks. A faint sigh escaped your lips as you shifted your cherished weapon from your right shoulder to your left, the barrel still radiating residual heat from the intense gunfight with Omega agents just minutes ago. A few steps later, you found yourself in the common room of the headquarters, where a handful of agents briefly glanced in your direction.

In one corner of the room, Gekko and Brimstone were engrossed in a heated race on the younger agent's console, seemingly oblivious to your presence. With a casual wave, you raised your free hand in greeting. "Hey."

"y/n! You're back!" Killjoy beamed at you, immediately relieving you of your weapon and inspecting it with keen interest. "How did the modifications go? Did the baby perform well?" She looked up at you, brimming with excitement, before returning her attention to the barrel of your Vandal. You couldn't help but marvel at how she failed to notice the most conspicuous aspect of your appearance, instead hyper-focusing on the weapon she had tinkered with before the mission. "No complaints from me. Engaged in a good fight with a couple of Omega agents, though I must admit there were more of them than anticipated."

"Really? Are you injured? That blood isn't yours, is it?" Sage's voice broke through, causing you to look up from Killjoy. Your gaze locked onto the healer, and you nodded while raising a reassuring thumb. "No, I'm all good. Just a bit sweaty, but a shower will take care of that."

"Then I'm relieved." Sage breathed a sigh of relief before her attention abruptly shifted to a corner of the room. You followed her gaze, only to regret it when you laid eyes on none other than Ryo, also known as Yoru within the protocol. The young man had his hand open, as Jett, the white-haired agent besides him, dropped a couple of black tokens into his palm, wearing a frown on her face. With a victorious grin, Yoru clutched the tokens before turning away from Jett, his gaze now fixed on you and Sage. For a brief moment, your eyes met, the cocky grin on his lips vanishing as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a serious expression that, if somebody like you knew him better, could be interpreted as concern.

You offered him a reassuring nod before he redirected his attention back to Jett, seemingly intent on settling the bet that had just been fulfilled. Feeling a twinge of disappointment, you shifted your gaze to the floor but quickly refocused on Sage, careful not to reveal your true emotions.

The truth was, things with Yoru were complicated.

And "complicated" was perhaps an understatement. The young agent's difficult temperament was well-known, and only a select few in the protocol, including Jett, Phoenix, Chamber, and yourself, managed to get along with him. It had taken a great deal of effort or willful ignorance to navigate the cocky nature of the Japanese man. You had grown accustomed to Yoru's ways, and it came as no surprise when he had shared stories of his numerous gang fights in Shibuya, Tokyo during his senior high school days, littering him in many scars of physical and emotional level . The authenticity of his past experiences had been apparent, as his challenging demeanor was not the only aspect known about him. It was not uncommon knowledge, even among the agents, that you and the young Riftwalker often slept together. However, you had refrained from assigning a specific label to your relationship, uncertain whether it was appropriate given the circumstances of being agents who risked their lives daily for the sake of Alpha Earth's safety. Or at least, that was the justification you used. The truth was that you found it difficult to trust Ryo to maintain a healthy and lasting relationship of any kind. Arguments could easily arise among the agents in the protocol, but the young Japanese man, with his arrogant manner, often resorted to unconventional methods to prove his points. This included whatever was happening between the two of you.

The connection between you and Yoru had initially begun as a heated rivalry in a dire situation. However, over time, it had evolved into a significant relationship within the context of being teammates and was on the brink of becoming something more serious. Yoru's somewhat clumsy attempts to address the situation and have a conversation with you individually hinted at that possibility. Nevertheless, it had never come to fruition as you always managed to evade those discussions, either acting too preoccupied or exhausted from missions. You knew that you couldn't sustain this facade forever, and it wouldn't be fair to Ryo. However, the truth was that you were still healing from past failed attempts at relationships before joining the Protocol, and you were doing everything in your power to avoid adding another one to your list until the young Riftwalker could demonstrate that he was actively working on his attitude. But whether that would ever be possible remained uncertain.

"y/n?" Sage's calm yet determined voice snapped you back from your thoughts. "Sorry, what's up?" You quickly responded, hoping not to appear too absent-minded. With a caring smile, she replied, "I mentioned that I would like to discuss something confidential with you. But feel free to freshen up and recover from your mission first." Feeling a bit embarrassed for being so lost in your thoughts in front of Sage, you nodded nervously while scratching your neck. "Sure. Is it okay if I knock on your door later?" The healer gave you an assuring nod before bidding you farewell, and you headed towards your room.

After a thorough shower that washed away the dirt and blood of your adversaries, and dressed in clean, sweat-free clothes, you made your way to Sage's room. As you turned the corner, you accidentally bumped into someone.

"くそ (Shit)."

Your throat tightened as you recognized the unmistakable voice of Yoru. Nervously swallowing the lump in your throat, your gaze cautiously met a pair of strained brown eyes. The tense expression on the young man's face softened as soon as he recognized you.

"y/n. Sorry, I didn't see you there. Are you alright?" He glanced over you warily, placing a hand on your shoulder to reassure himself that he hadn't caused any harm by colliding with you. Not that there was much to worry about, given your athletic build, similar to that of the other agents.

"I'm fine," you mumbled under your breath, still catching your breath, and thanked him for his concern. "And as for the mission... the blood wasn't mine. Sage already checked on me." Cutting him off quickly, you couldn't help but sound a bit urgent.

Yoru frowned at your response, slowly retracting his hand from your shoulder with a sigh. "Fine by me. But you must be tired. Why not take some rest?" He raised an eyebrow mischievously, a grin forming on his lips as he casually placed a hand on his hip. "Or do you need some help with that, あほ (idiot)?"

You crossed your arms in front of your chest and puffed out your cheeks. Yoru had once explained that calling you "idiot" in his mother tongue was a sign of appreciation and a privilege reserved for only a few people, but you couldn't quite believe that he was just teasing you relentlessly with it. "If that were the case, I would let you know. Actually, I'm on my way to see Sage."

"Sage?!" he looked at you with surprise. You chuckled in response. "Yeah, you know, the kind-looking lady-monk with healing abilities."

"Don't tease me," Yoru smirked, playfully punching you on the shoulder. You faked a dramatic stumble a few steps backward, intending to playfully reciprocate, but you were taken aback when Yoru quickly caught up to you, his arm snaking around your slim waist to pull you close to his chest. "Careful." You looked up at him with wide eyes, surprised by his sudden gesture. "I was just joking, you know, Ryo." His dark brown eyes met yours, and his calloused fingers gently grazed over your cheeks.

"Sure, I do…“ he replied, your hands resting carefully against his lean torso, unsure of what to expect. "So?"

For a brief moment, Yoru simply stared at you, his deep brown eyes flashing a sense of hurt you had never seen before. "Y‘know, I miss you, y/n... I miss... us." You gulped at the sudden change in his emotions, noticing how his grip tightened on your waist as he emphasized the word "us." Yoru rarely expressed himself like this, and you didn't want to mess up your response. You were glad he was opening up, but the timing couldn't have been worse. Looking up at him, you shifted your gaze back down to the ground. "Ryo, we've talked about this..."

"Have we? I feel like you're avoiding me precisely because we haven't. I'm not playing around, you know? I'm serious about this," he said, his dark eyebrows furrowing and a small crease appearing on his forehead. You straightened up, placing a hand gently yet determinedly on his torso. "I know we need to sort things out, but that's exactly why..."

Before you could finish your sentence, the clearing of someone's throat caught you off guard. Looking up, you locked eyes with Sage, who stood in the hallway with her arms crossed. You were aware of her strict rule against public displays of affection between agents in the hallway, and your current position with Yoru wasn't ideal. You gave Sage an apologetic look, wanting to step back from Yoru, only to realize that he had already withdrawn his hand and distanced himself from you. He scratched his neck uncomfortably, avoiding Sage's stern gaze. As you glanced up at him in surprise, you noticed a faint pink hue on his cheeks.

A faint smile spread across your face. It was quite challenging to bring Yoru out of his shell, despite his rough exterior. However he was surprisingly easily flustered when it came to physical matters in public, which amused you to no end. You weren't sure if it was a cultural thing, but you tried to suppress a knowing gaze in his direction, not wanting to embarrass him further with the attention of both you and Sage.

"Sorry, Sage. I was actually on my way to you when I ran into Yoru by chance," you waved her off, quickly moving a few steps to her side. "Yeah, I can see that," she raised an eyebrow challengingly, arms still crossed. She gave Yoru a final quick glance before turning around with you. "I'm just going to borrow her for a quick talk. You can continue with whatever this is afterward, in your rooms," she huffed, emphasizing the last word, and then pulled you along the corridor. You thought you heard Yoru responding with a sharp comment, but honestly, you didn't want to know what that was about. Sage dragged you to her room, sighing tiredly. "Really, he can be such a hothead." You couldn't help but let out an awkward chuckle. "Well, you could say that's part of the fun."

Upon arriving in Sage's room, she gestured for you to sit down at a round table in the middle of the room with two facing cushions. The young healer placed a freshly brewed cup of tea in front of you before taking a seat opposite you. "So, what did you want to talk about, Sage?" You looked at the black-haired woman and took a small sip of your tea. She folded her hands in her lap and sighed briefly before fixing her gaze on you. "I wanted to talk to you about Yoru." You looked up at her, a little surprised by her choice of topic. You had thought she might want to discuss the false information you received from headquarters or some other pressing matter. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me right. I don't usually pry into other people's business, but Yoru can be quite difficult to talk to about personal matters. That's why I wanted to talk to someone close to him first," she paused, her gaze penetrating through long lashes. You gulped, feeling a bead of sweat forming on your forehead. "Why choose me then? Phoenix and Jett are close to him too, you know?" Sage interrupted you with a knowing smirk. "I'm pretty sure you're as close to him as anyone could possibly get." Her comment left you momentarily speechless, and then you cleared your throat in embarrassment, avoiding her gaze. "Yeah, maybe. But I'm not sure if that extends to an emotional level as well." Sage pursed her lips, thinking for a brief moment, before speaking again. "If that's the case, then it's even more important that I discuss this with you." You looked at her quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"To cut to the chase: I don't know how they found out, but HQ isn't too happy about Yoru's little gambling ventures." Your eyes widened in surprise. "Gambling?" Sage nodded in confirmation. "Did you notice it this afternoon?" You stared at her in disbelief, trying to recall what she was referring to. Then the scene from earlier flashed in your mind—black chip cards falling from Jett into Yoru's hands, the victorious smile on his lips when things were going his way. In that moment, you saw red.

"You're not suggesting that he gambled on my life, are you?!" you exclaimed, a mix of shock and anger in your voice. Sage let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose for a moment. "I'm sorry if you've just realized it now. I thought you were already aware of it."

Your teeth clenched as anger surged through your body. Memories of past encounters with Yoru and the black chip cards he often played with when bored flooded your mind. How could you not have noticed? And worst of all, he had wagered on your own life.

Balling your hands into fists, you looked up from the ground and stared directly into Sage's eyes. "Let me guess, you want me to confront him about this." She nodded once again. "Originally, yes, but considering your expression now, I'm not so sure if that's the best idea anymore." A vicious smirk formed on your face as you slowly stood up on your own two feet. "Don't worry, Sage. I'm going to teach him a lesson about the dangers of gambling that he won't forget easily." Thanking her for the tea, you swiftly rose and left the room with determined strides. Left behind, Sage was momentarily speechless, before she took a sip of her tea and shrugged her shoulders with a nonchalant expression. "Let's hope this kills two birds with one stone."

___________________________

Angry and determined, you stormed through the corridors of HQ, on the hunt for a certain Japanese agent. Along the way, you encountered Neon and Phoenix, engrossed in their discussion about a famous comic series. They looked up curiously as you approached. "Hey, y/n! How was the mission?" Neon greeted you with a wave, while Phoenix gave you a playful smirk. You looked at them sharply. "Sorry guys, later, okay? Have you seen Yoru by any chance?" You clenched your teeth, leaving them a bit speechless before bursting into laughter.

"What did he do this time?" Neon gave you a sympathetic look. "Bro betted on your ass, again?“ Phoenix grinned mischievously. „Again?" Your eyes widened in disbelief, almost fuming. "How long has this been going on without me knowing?" Phoenix clenched his teeth and scratched his neck uncomfortably. "Oh shit... You know what, y/n, if I had to guess, he's probably busy with his knives."

Furious, you gave Phoenix a thumbs-up, quickly turning on your heels to storm away, muttering, "Thanks. I owe you man.“ Just seconds later, Neon looked up at Phoenix, raising an eyebrow. "She's going to beat his ass, right?" Phoenix shrugged, chuckling. "Well, bro's been asking for it. I told him it would be over if y/n found out.“ Neon rolled her eyes before returning her attention to the comic in her hand. "Yeah but you didn’t have to throw him under the bus line that. Anyway, where did we leave off?"

Without a care in the world, you flung open the door to the weapons room, startling Yoru, who was meticulously cleaning a knife with a soft towel. "Oh? Done with business with Sage already?" Yoru began, but you cut him off mid-sentence, fists clenched. "How long has this been going on?" Confused, he looked at you. "What's your business?"

You growled at his response, closing the distance between you. "Don't play games with me, Yoru. You bet on my life-or-death missions?! Is this all just a sick joke to you, or are you that tone deaf?!" Furious, you pointed a finger at his chest, staring him down. For a brief moment, he seemed caught off guard, then his brows furrowed. He placed the knife and towel on the table before pushing your finger away with a frown. "So what? I'm not hurting anyone with it, am I?"

Disappointment spread through your gaze as you studied the man in front of you. You couldn't comprehend how he failed to see the obvious problem with gambling on the outcome of missions that involved life and death. His dark eyes met yours, and the disappointment nearly weakened his resolve, even if he didn't want to admit it. He reached out for your hand, but you quickly pulled away. "Listen, I wouldn’t bet on you, if I wasn’t sure you’ve got it, y/n."

„Do I look like a fucking race-horse, Yoru?!“ you clentched your teeth, not sure how to follow up. Just then a great idea came to your mind. „You know what? Have it your way Ryo. I‘m betting that I‘ll drag your sorry ass in a Shootoff.“

For a brief second Yoru seemed to be caught off guard, then he sighed pulling his butterfly comb out of a dimensional rift and combing through his hair. As he spoke he rolled his eyes. „Quit the yapping if I win?“

With a determined nod, you taunted, "If you win. Otherwise, feel free to prepare your sorry ass." Without giving him another glance, you strode off, quickly grabbing a gun as you went. Calling out one last time to him, you declared, "Training hall, in 5." Yoru smirked in response, his pearly white teeth on full display. "おもしゃれ (Interesting)."

As you left the room, a mix of anger and anticipation fueled your every step. You couldn't wait to face Yoru in the training hall and teach him a lesson or two. You weren‘t sure if he comprehended on just what exactly he had bet with you, but either way you couldn‘t wait for you to win and give him a good railing in the aftermath.

"So, what's the plan?" Yoru smirked at you, one hand casually gripping his Vandal while the other rested confidently on his left hip. You both stood in the training hall, surrounded by the dummies that Killjoy had quickly assembled upon your request. The presence of other Agents just outside the glass windows separating the hall from the watch room didn't concern you at the moment. If you had to guess, Neon, Phoenix, and Jett were probably among them, eager to witness your showdown with Yoru and see if you could knock him off his high horse.

You cleared your throat and unlocked the security lock of your Vandal. "You see the dummies? Whoever shoots the most in 3 minutes wins." Yoru grinned, adjusting his rifle and positioning himself back-to-back with you. "Well, either way, I hope you're ready for your defeat, doll."

Rolling your eyes at the nickname, you gave a thumbs-up to Killjoy behind one of the glass doors outside the hall, signaling her to start the countdown.

3...

You grinned, holding your Vandal firmly against your chest, your back pressed closely to Yoru's.

2...

Your finger hooked around the trigger of your weapon.

1...

You planted your feet firmly on the ground, ready to burst into action.

Then, the stage was set.

A loud siren resounded, marking the start of your shootout. With all your might, you pushed off from Yoru's back and sprinted towards the dummies within your line of sight, determined to keep Yoru from using his dimensional rifts to his advantage. In a synchronized display of bullets and precision, you swiftly moved through the dummies, firing shots that found their mark between their heads and chests. The air around you filled with the deafening sound of gunfire, intensifying with each advance Yoru made on the other side of the hall.

For a fleeting moment, Yoru entered your field of vision, his concentration razor-sharp and his accuracy deadly, momentarily throwing you off balance. However, a quick glance at the timer and your points reminded you that every hesitant move could determine the victor. You swiftly refocused on the dummies before you, distributing bullets with speed and accuracy.

With agility and precision, you navigated through a particularly challenging wall of targets, successfully shooting them down just as Yoru teleported in front of you, attempting to snatch them away. You playfully stuck out your tongue at him before dashing off once more, firing shots at the remaining row of dummies. Yoru, being slightly quicker, managed to catch some of them. Your gaze shifted, scanning for more dummies, only to realize that one lone dummy remained at the back of the hall, likely missed during your initial rush.

A quick glance at the monitor revealed that this final point would decide the match. You bit your lip, hastening towards the end of the hall. However, the sound of Yoru opening a rift sent alarm bells ringing in your mind.

"This is bad. If he's quicker than my bullet, I'll probably shoot him," you muttered under your breath, cursing the riftwalker's calculated tactics. But what Yoru didn't expect was that you had a dirty trick up your sleeve. With swift movement, you pulled out a decoy and threw it behind you, aiming for the rift Yoru was opening, hoping it would enter with him. A victorious grin spread across your face as you heard a familiar exclamation of "くそ (Shit!)!" just in time for the rift to close, temporarily blinding Yoru. You hoped he could forgive you for the unexpected move. With a surge of determination, you fired your last bullet into the lone dummy at the end of the hall

The loud sirene resounded again, signaling you that your Shootout had ended. Looking onto the monitor hall, you could see that your name was highlighted as the winner of the match.

The aftermath of the intense shootout left the air thick with tension and adrenaline. You stood at the end of the hall, panting heavily, the grip of your weapon still tight in your hand. Sweat trickled down your forehead as you tried to catch your breath, a mixture of exhaustion and victory coursing through your veins.

Yoru appeared only mere seconds later from his dimensional rift, ripping the blue samurai mask from his face, his body language a mix of frustration and begrudging admiration. His mask, now removed, revealed a face lined with determination and a touch of annoyance. "What a dirty trick," he muttered, his voice tinged with defeat. "Next time, a little warning would be nice. My eyesight's gonna be fucked for a while."

You couldn't help but chuckle, a sense of satisfaction washing over you. " Says the one, trying to rift his way to victory." You extended a hand towards him, offering a truce in the spirit of competition. "Great match though, you really pushed me to my limits."

Yoru's gaze softened, and after a moment's hesitation, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, you got me this time," he admitted, his voice filled with a mix of respect and acceptance, before crossing the last meters to you and planting a chaste kiss on your lips. Surprised by his forwardness in public you only halfway heard what he said afterwards. "But mark my words, next time I won't be so easy to blindside.”

You nodded slowly, fingers lingering on your lips. "Wouldn’t have it any other way."

As you slowly leave the training hall, you offer him your arm, to hook into, his eyesight still making him a bit wobbly on the feet. Surprising you again, the young agent takes your hand instead, his calloused hands gripping your own ones firmly. „That‘s for blinding me, あほ.“

You chuckle, already imagining what Sage would say if she saw this. “So about our bet...” You look up to him, a victorious smile on your lips. “Yeah, Yeah.” he sighs. “Look, I´m sorry. No bet´s on other agents missions anymore. You happy now?” He fakes an annoyed huff, looking to the side.

“Close.” You chuckle, guiding him slowly towards the exit. “Remember what we exactly betted on?”

“Excuse me?!“ he looked at you alarmed, slit eyebrow raised to the hilt.

You started to laugh, enjoying the irritation in the young mans face.

“Oh, you´re just too cute, Ryo. When I said to preper your sorry-ass, I meant that literally.”

It was at exactly this moment Ryo Kiritani realized, he fucked up.

„No way…“You cut him off with a grin. “Always remember Ryo, Thou shalt honor thy gambling debts.”

“Tell again, why you`re so obsessed with fucking me?”

If it weren't for the compromising position Yoru was in right now, it would have come off as one of his usual cocky remarks. However, in his current state, it sounded more like a bratty, if not pathetic, comment. Mounted naked on your lap, the young agents tan cheeks were adorned by a deep blush, sweat rolling slowly down his forehead. You gave his trained abs a firm squeeze before locking eyes with him, a smitten smirk on your lips. “Hm, maybe because you look very good like this and your actually quite into it concerning your arousal?”

Your eyes averted down between his legs, seeing his hard-on fully on attention just right under the dark happy trail, head an angry red and dripping precum on your skin. Carefully wrapping your slender fingers around it, you gave it a firm squeeze, making the young man above you groan. “How should I´ve known?! It´s not like you get teached that this shits is a possibility.”

You quirked an eyebrow at this.

“Oh, so your not so opposed now?” you asked, your hands moving away from his cock to grasp the dildo attached to the strap-on-harness between your legs.

“Tsk, just get on with it, あほ.” Yoru grumbeled, hands on your shoulders, a little more agitated now, from your teasing.

You giggled, then giving his hip a firm squeeze, your mouth pressing against his lips, the kiss slow and sensual as your hand moved between your bodies to grasp his length and your strap on, rubbing them together. He silently groaned into the kiss, his hands grabbing your shoulders as he shallowly grounded his hips into your hand and lubed toy.

“Trust me, I’m gonna fuck you so good, the whole Headquarters will know about it.” you whispered against his neck, biting the tan skin until it bruised. “Honestly, I´d prefer if they didn´t. Already gave them enough fuel with my defeat at Shootout” he gasped, his cheeks darkening by the second, your hands ghosting over his hot skin.

Giggeling in response, you pulled his hips flush between your legs, ordering him with a firm command.

“On all fours, クソガキ (brat)”

Yoru pulled away a devilish smirk on his lips, his cock twitching against you lewdly, a string of precum connecting his veiny shaft and your silicone as you commanded him in his mother tongue. “Fuck, that´s hot. Picked that up for me?”

You gave his thigh a reprimanding squeeze. “Maybe. Now get in position, bitch.”

'Have some mercy, will ya?’ he groaned slowly mounting off you, and climbing in the middle of the bed. A smile tugged at your lips, adoring how his trained buttcheeks looked, all ready for you to play with. You moved behind him, your hands rubbing and squeezing his ass, an embarrassed moan escaping Yorus mouth as soon as your hand connected with his cheek in a harsh slap. “You like that?” you giggle, giving his cheek another slap. His answer comes a bit dragged, the man trying his best not to moan. “Cut the teasing.”

“Alright, Mr. Pushing-Through.” You roll your eyes with a grin, hands spreading his buttcheeks. Seeing the tight hole between them, makes you lick your lips. Getting on your knees, you blew hot air on the sensitive rim, wetting two of your fingers in your mouth, before slowly protruding at his hole. Rubbing soft circles around the outside, then pushing the tip of the muscle in, Yoru gasped loudly, his strong legs getting a bit wobbly at the invitation.

Humming, you started to get to work, massaging his globes of tan flesh, making sure to hold one his hips with your free hand to stabilize his rocky movement in desperate search for more friction. Spreading him open one more time, you pulled out of him, leaving kisses on his neck, eyes taking in his lean muscular back, trained from his daily activities as an Agent of the Protocol. You kissed behind his ear, teeth grazing the cartilage as his hips wiggled against your strap on, something a kin to a needy moan escaping his throat.

“Gosh, you´re so needy for me, pretty boy. Really wanna get teached your lesson, huh?” you cooed, slowly stroking over his hip bones.

“J-Just make it feel good, kay?” he gasped, looking over his back to assure himself with you. You grin, one hand locking into his dark locks, carefully yet demanding pushing his head onto the mattress. Not wanting to tease him anymore, you guided the dildo inside him, slowly pushing inch by inch, until you were flush against Yoru. The young man was using all his mental strength to not moan like a bitch in heat, as you buried yourself to the hilt, his resolve slowly falling however as you halted inside him.

“y/n.” He called your name needily, wishing that you understood what he wished for, without ushering anymore words. Not missing the chance to tease him, you wrapped a hand around his cock, hovering closely over his back before whispering “Huh? What is it? You know, you need to tell me, if there´s something you want.”

A low grumble could be heard from the young agent under you, his cheeks dusted in red from embarrassment, teeth clenched in despair from the sudden stop of stimulation. “For fucks sake, just fuck me!”

You didn´t need more to hear than that. With a firm grip on him you hilted yourself out of Yoru, pistoling your hips back forward. The hand on his cock started to pump him in tandem with your thrusting, your thumb rubbing the slit on the tip where you knew he was most sensitive. A hymne of loud groans erupted from the rifter, the pleasure of being railed by you so great, that he pushed his hips back against your own.

Getting serious, your hand fisted his locks, tugging on them to move his head uup from the mattress, to arch his back into you, the sound of wet skin slapping against skin echoing in your bedroom, as you worked to rail Yoru into submission.

By how his cock twitched he seemed close only a few thrusts after, however you still weren´t quite finished. Angling yourself a bit lower you tried to find his soft spot; one thrust angled just right made him fist the bedsheets, fingernails digging deeply into them. Smirking in victory, knowing you reached your goal, you began to hit that place dead on, hearing him mumble your name like a mantra.

Then, only a few more thrusts he reached his climax, spurts of cum hitting the bed sheets, his dark almond shaped eyes rolled back in ecstasy as he shuddered violently, a lewd slur in Japanese escaping his lungs. Smirking you caressed him with your hands, careful to slide out of him, discarding the silicone on the floor besides you, before getting besides him.

Seeing Yoru all wasted like this on your mattress somehow made you feel an insane amount of accomplishment, the tension of this noon already nearly forgotten. Slowly lying besides, him, you start to rub his back gently, his eyes opening and looking at you with a tired but content gaze.

“Everything alright?” you asked, one of his arms, suddenly caught of guard, as he wrapped one arm around you, pulling you close to his torso. As he nuzzles his head into your hair, the only sound that can be heard for a close minute is your breathings.

Then Yorus voice resounds, making you chuckle loudly in the process.

“Good thing I lost that bet.”

#valorant #valorant x reader #yoru #yoru x reader #ryo kiritani #kiritani ryo #jett #phoenix #neon #killjoy #valorant protocol #gekko #brimstone #my stuff #writing

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julemmaes · 5 months

Text

Mattress Attack

this is set in the same universe as made you breakfast so it's just a random scene where the house of wind gang all live in the same apartment and cassian is a simp for nesta

Cassian came home to utter chaos that night.

Gwyn was screeching in the bathroom, crying out that she couldn't find any gauze in the mess their cabinets were.

Emerie was screaming over her, telling her to just fucking hurry before she bled to death.

He couldn't hear Nesta, but her trench coat on the hangers told him she was home, too.

He closed the door behind him, slowly, not sure whether to let his presence be known or turn around and go back outside.

It was only a few moments later that Emerie's words caught up with him.

Bleed to death?

"Girls!?" He called out, moving down the corridor.

Gwyn's head popped out of the bathroom and she sighed, her eyes watery as her shoulders sagged in relief, "I've never been so happy to see you."

He reached her quickly, his concern was through the roof as he asked, "What happened?"

His roommate grimaced as Emerie screamed at her to move her ass and Gwyn quickly went back to the task at hand.

"Nesta stabbed herself."

Cassian blinked, not sure he'd her correctly.

"What?"

"Nesta. She stabbed herself with-"

Emerie forcibly pushed him aside and ran into the bathroom. She opened one of the cabinets and took out a package of gauze, shaking it in front of them.

As one, they went striding back to Nesta's bedroom and Cassian noticed only then the trail of blood drops on the floor.

His lungs seized.

"What happened?"

It was then that he saw her, Nesta. She was laying on the floor, her head turned towards the door and away from her open hand and... the pair of scissors sticking out from her palm.

What the—

"Fuck." He breathed out, moving his eyes to her pale pale face. Nesta smiled weakly, her eyes pinched in pain. "How?"

Before anyone could reply, Nesta snorted, and with a half lidded glance, said, "The mattress attacked me."

He was even more confused than before. His heart racing out of his chest with worry.

"And if you'd just fucking waited for me as I'd asked you to, you wouldn't be in this position right now." Emerie retorted with anger in her tone.

Cassian's surprise spiked a few notches, adding to the storm of emotions he was feeling right now. He rarely saw the girls pissed at each other. But he needed to focus on what was going on here.

"Did you call an ambulance yet?" He asked.

"Shit," Gwyn whined, turning a concerning shade of green. "I can't stand the smell of blood."

Emerie was cautiously tending to Nesta's wound, but her tone was pleading when she said, "Go to the kitchen and sniff some lemon, please. I can't hear you vomit or I'll die."

Cassian almost laughed at their dramatics and he dropped to his knees next to Nesta, taking Gwyn's spot. He was so close that his thigh brushed her naked arm.

As Gwyn left the room and Emerie got up to get her phone, he ran a hand down Nesta's shoulder.

She was already looking up at him, focusing hard on breathing. In through her nose, out from her mouth. Her perfect, rosy, lovable lips parted with the effort of not crying.

He focused on her eyes, moving a strand of hair from her face. "Care to explain what do you mean by the mattress attacked me?"

Nesta chuckled and winced immediately after.

"Fuck it hurts."

Without looking at her hand, he nodded, feeling bad for his friend. "Who would've guessed having scissors in your palm would hurt."

"Not the right time, smartass."

He pointedly looked at her, his eyebrow rising.

She drew a deep breath, "I bought a new mattress and couldn't get the plastic off. I didn't really think the thing would spring open like a fucking clown-box and I fell pretty badly on the scissors."

He tried hard not to laugh in her face at the imagery his brain conjured. Nesta being smacked in the face by a bed and getting flown across the room was the funniest shit he'd thought of in a long time. He was just sorry it ended this way.

"Can you still move your fingers?"

"Yep," she popped her p. "According to Emerie, no nerve was hit and I'm a lucky bitch."

She suddenly closed her eyes and her head lolled to the side, but from the way she groaned she still seemed conscious.

Cassian frowned, "You feeling faint? Did you hit your head too?"

Nesta shook her head no, "I just need to get this over with."

He went to twine their fingers together, looking to soothe her somehow, but that's when Emerie entered the bedroom again. Thinking Nesta didn't want their friend to see them holding hands, Cassian almost slipped away, but Nesta clutched his fingers in a strong hold and took a shaky breath.

He felt his heart in his throat.

Squeezing gently, he let her know he wasn't going anywhere and he patiently waited with her on her floor, her quasi-murderer new mattress only meters away from them and already stained with blood.

It didn't take long for the ambulance to show up and throughout the entire process, the paramedics worked around him. Cassian never parted from Nesta, holding onto dear life while she got stitched up.

Progress, he thought. Stupid ass progress, but still something.

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #angst? not really #some hurt comfort #just them being dorks

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another-mrfluffball · 2 years

Text

~How the lupin gang reacts to you calling them handsome/beautiful~

Lupin

He was like !?!?!?!??!?!!??!?!!?!?

He was so god damn happy. He was for really going lovingly apeshit honestly

He was such a lovesick fool.

For the next few days, he gave a billion kisses, and expensive stuff! (jewelry, crown, etc!)

He talked about this 24/7 with the team. They wanted to rip their ears off... Y/n called me handsome! I feel so- *everybody just face palming and looking tired* What's wrong you guys! *them just ready to scream and beat him* Ah.

Jigen

You said that when he took his hat off, it was rare. but a lovely moment to observe his face.

When you said that his eyes widened and his cheeks began to burn up.

He was never told he was handsome...he was super happy to be told he is happy by the most loveliest person in the world. His lover.

He tried to hide his blush but sadly his hat couldn't save him this time~

After that, he took off his hat more. He loved that warm feeling he gets when he sees y/n just cutly observe his beautiful facial features and smile warmly.

He found this very sweet... To give a little revenge for the cute attack he would compliment you and just loves seeing you blush.

Goemon

He was shocked but really happy inside.

He never was complimented in that way. He always heard others around him call him a scary emotionless samurai. Because of those words he never thought he mattered.

But after meeting you and falling in love, he felt himself. He felt loved.

So, you calling him handsome meant the world.

He tried to respond but he didn't know exactly how... So he looked at you warmly and smiled.

The smile felt different. It felt as if spring the came...

A warm, gentle cherry blossom, bloomed in your heart.

Fujiko

She has been called ''beautiful'' more than the stars could count. Because of the word ''beautiful', she never felt any meaning to it.

She was confused by what ''beautiful'' meant. What is it?

She has been confessed/asked out many times. But whenever she asked why, they all just said it was because she is beautiful...never because of ''her'' Nobody saw her as a human being with personality, and feelings.

When she met you things changed. Her eyes to the world change. She felt really loved being with you. It was a feeling she never felt before. You saw her as a person and always cared for her.

So when you said she was beautiful she felt special. It was different from everybody else's words. It felt real.

Your warm eyes, a slight blush on your rosy cheeks, a cheeky smile on your face... it was beautiful.

P.s She absolutely loves being called by you! She just brightens up and instantly also calls you beautiful too!!

Zenigata

I am...what.

He was very much the most speechless man on earth but after a moment he got his words and started to get teary.

He felt like a million explosions just happened in his heart. Y/n is just so *SNIFF* so SWEET! I-*wipes tears off* I love you y/n!!!!!!!

He gave you a big bear hug!

He then cupped your face and smiled brightly.

He then peppered you with small kisses. He usually would be really shy but right now at this moment, he felt like his love was spilling out of him.

P.s : He might confess to you again because of how happy he is. I like you y/n! Will you go out with me? Zenigata... hm? We are already dating! Oh! *Y/n just giggling* Zenigata loved seeing you smile :) I love you y/n... Awww I love you too!

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!! (Sorry for it being late!!! I forgot to post it!!

#lupin iii #lupin the third x reader #lupin iii x reader #lupin x reader #jigen daisuke x reader #jigen x reader #jigen #ishikawa goemon xiii x reader #goemon ishikawa xiii #goemon x reader #fujiko x reader #fujiko #inspector zenigata #zenigata x reader #headcannons

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marmie-noir · 16 days

Text

Stick With Me

TW: Violence, guns, murder, mentions of blood.

READY FOR SEASON TWO, CHOP CHOP HOLLYWOOD <3

Per usual, not proof read so any mistakes are because of me and I apologize but will ultimately not change :) Enjoy!

It was the next night when it finally happened. I had spent the day going over design ideas for the ‘new’ bar with Mitch, Dwight telling me to pick whatever I wanted. I think he was trying to pacify me but I’d take it, especially when it gave me something to do beyond look out of the windows between the boards still in place or flick through the same songs in the old jukebox next to it.

It had gotten dark a few hours ago and the music was low. I was behind the bar because it felt natural at this point. Mitch was behind me, one arm loosely around my middle to keep me pulled back against his front, the other pointing out paint options in a magazine that we really shouldn’t be making a decision with based upon the shitty neon lights that filled the space. I couldn’t tell if it was a green or a blue his finger had landed on.

I covered the name of the shade and glanced to the side, his face right there as he had hooked his chin on my shoulder, looking content if not a little sleepy. Mitch was a patient man, more patient than me it seemed, and he was content for at least a few days from what we had spoken about to spend time here and wait for the bikers to show up. “Tell me if that shade is blue or green.” I said quietly, giving him a little smile. Mitch narrowed his eyes slightly at me, mustache twitching as he tried to hide his smile before looking back down at the color. “Now darlin’, I might be old but I’m not color blind. It’s blue.” He said, voice rumbling from his chest to my back.

I slid my fingers down to show the color, emerald meadow, amused. He let out an amused huff, his breath warm on my neck, tightening his arm around my middle in a makeshift hug. “I clearly meant green.” “Mhm, sure cowboy. I told you the lighting was bad.” I said with a grin, glancing at him once more. He leaned in, nose brushing against mine, going for a quick kiss to stop my smug attitude when the rumble of bikes gave away that we had visitors.

Everyone moved at the same time. Dwight and some boys were playing a card game over beers, the others either playing pool or loitering around the space. The sound had everyone spring to action and push away from their tables or place the pool sticks down, moving to their assigned locations. Dwight had earned his name The General, proposing a battle plan that would mow down the number of men we’d have to actually engage in a shoot out with.

Explosives were rigged at the front door and Mitch gave me one last squeeze before pulling back to grab his weapon, my own gun cool as he pressed it into my palm. Taking it with a quick nod I caught Grace’s eye and we exchanged a nod as well, the two of us ducking under cover until the signal went off. I had gotten kind of close with Grace over the last few weeks, she was interesting but a really sweet person. Not a bad friend to have at all.

Mitch settled next to me, our thighs brushing as we shifted. I didn’t look at him, didn’t want to seem scared or make him worried, instead glancing up at the ceiling and waiting. It didn’t take long for the familiar squeak of the front door to sound, a few moments of silence, and then the explosions. From there it almost felt like an out of body experience.

Adrenaline coursed through my veins and I was steady, lips pressed together in a firm line. Determined. I took out at least one biker as we all stood up, working through the line of men that had come into the bar, their leather jackets giving them away for who they were. The Black Macadam motorcycle gang had come as Dwight said they would. But they hadn’t been expecting anyone willing to fight back, not on this scale.

“Get down!” Mitch’s voice sounded to my left and I felt his hand gripping my elbow, yanking me down as he did as well. The next second the mirror behind the bar was shattered as someone with a machine gun splattered the area with bullets. Debris and glass rained on us and I looked at Mitch, brows pinched together with frustration. “A machine gun!?” I shouted over the deafening sounds of gunfire. “Are you fucking kidding me!?”

“I got it!” Dwight called out, moving out from behind the bar with the shotgun he had chosen for this. The machine gun fire ceased, and a few members of the gang went to check the kitchen.

Mitch reached out and tucked me against his side, his free hand not on his weapon lifting to cover my ear and press my face against his chest as he shot.He hit the preset gas tank he’d prepared just for this, the explosion it created sending a wave of pressure over me and then a wave of heat. I let him protect my ears, eyes squeezing closed against the heat of it, taking a moment to take a centering breath before pulling back so I could guard his back.

I got a tap on my shoulder, Grace. She left the safety behind the bar and I followed behind her, Mitch standing and providing cover. It didn’t take us long to handle the last few of the men that were trying to find cover or escape the war scene the bar had become. I caught sight of Dwight tackling Waltrip but a groan tore my attention away from that, finding Tyson bleeding behind the pool table.

I went to him instead of witnessing the final bloodshed. Violence didn’t do anything for me, while I wasn’t a shrinking violet against it I didn’t enjoy it. It was a means to an end, people had to be taken care of to make sure that Mitch and Pops - and by extension all these other people- were safe. That included Tyson, who was bleeding from his right shoulder. “Let me see it.” I told him, setting my gun down and reaching for him. I ripped open the hole the bullet had made, inspecting the wound to find it was barely trickling blood. “You are gonna be okay, it went through and didn’t really hit anything.” I said, looking at it a little closer before giving a nod. “We should put pressure on it though, it’s gonna bleed for a bit unless you close it up.”

“Sunny?” “Here!” I called, standing up and seeing Mitch make his way towards me. I moved to meet him, needing to make sure he was okay just as he needed to check me over. He still had his gun clutched in his right hand, but his left grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me tightly against the front of his body. I felt him place a kiss on the top of my head as my arms wound around him, making sure I was as close as possible. In a little bit the adrenaline would wear off and I was going to crash, probably get shaky. “I’m here.” I breathed out against his chest. “Tyson’s been shot but it’s in the shoulder, he’s gonna be okay. Anyone else?” I asked, looking up at him worried. “Armand got one the arm, but he’ll live.” He said, hand sliding around from the back of my neck to cup my jaw, thumb brushing against my cheek. It felt gritty, like dust had settled on my skin. I’d need to shower. “It’s done, Sunshine. It’s over.” I swallowed, feeling a wave of emotion rise from my chest as he spoke. Giving a little nod I blinked misty eyes at him, blinking a few times to try to clear my vision, and he pulled me back against his chest. I cried against his chest, shoulders shaking, fingers gripping the back of his shirt tightly. Because he was right. It was finally over.

There was a lot to do. Bodies to hide, blood to clean up, a mess to sweep under the rug and contractors to pay off so they could come in and start to do the renovations we had clearly started on. But for now I just let myself relax against Mitch, soaking in the warmth and comfort he provided, the familiar scent of his cologne under the gunpowder and the dust familiar. Grounding. “I’m so fucking happy.” I said, looking up at him again. Mitch smiled, leaning down to press his lips to mine in a celebratory kiss. It wasn’t dirty, or teasing, but it was sweet and full of emotion neither of us had spoken yet. My hands lifted, cupping his cheeks as well, the kiss tasting of tears and hope for the future. We had won, and now it was going to be me, Mitch, and the bar from now on.

More Sunny and Mitch here!

#mitch keller #fanfic #tulsa king #garrett hedlund #mitch keller fanfiction #female oc #garrett hedlund fanfiction

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bettyfrommars · 1 year

Text

I'm on Fire

biker!Eddie Munson x fem!artist!Reader

Part 5

18+Only, MDNI, implied smut, eventual smut, biker gang, violence, aggression, boxing, street fighting, alcohol consumption, slow burn, mutual pining, mature themes, angst, jealous!Eddie, first kiss, brief mention of what reader is wearing, mention of blood.

Word count: 8.4k

Series Masterlist

In part 5, a new situation blossoms between your roommate Katie and Robin Buckley, while you get up the nerve to give Eddie a call. Eddie gets questioned by the police (Chief Hopper) and you go to your first Fight Night, where the adrenaline-fueled dramas are plentiful. You and Eddie finally enter new and intimate territory.

I do re-read these several times, but it's almost impossible for me to edit my own work, so I hope it's not too fraught with errors.

“Tell me now, baby, is he good to you?

Can he do to you the things that I do?

I can take you higher.”

______

Around 8 o’clock the next morning, Robin and Steve were moving around the kitchen, bumping into each other like zombies, making coffee and dolling out the ibuprofen into each other’s palms. They both had the day off, but Wayne would be dropping Oliver by soon, and they had to get ready to be semi-functioning parents again.

Their voices were just below a whisper though, and their footsteps light as they tried to step on the parts of the old floor that didn’t creak, doing their best not to wake Katie who was asleep on the sofa in the living room.

Steve found Robin leaning against the archway that separated the two rooms, staring at the form of a body all wrapped up like a burrito in a red and white quilt, facing the back of the sofa, the top of her head the only visible part of her body.

They both had coffee mugs in their hands, steam rising from the freshly poured brew.

Steve nudged Robin with his elbow, his voice nothing but a scratchy murmur. “Should I wake her?”

“Don’t you dare,” Robin returned, quickly. “It’s her spring break, let her have a few more minutes.”

Steve put the rim of his mug to his lips and took stock of Robin’s smile as she watched Katie twitch in her sleep.

About a half hour after Eddie left the night before, you started to hit a wall as far as socializing went, and asked Katie if she was ready to hit the road. Katie, Robin, and a couple others were just setting up a folding table to play a game of cards, but you could feel your eyes drooping and knew you wouldn’t make it much longer.

“She can sleep here,” Robin said to you, but then realized she might have jumped the gun, fueled by her own enthusiasm for the idea. She turned to Katie, “if you want to, that is. You can stay here with me...on me...on our couch, I mean.”

Katie wasn’t one to casually “crash” at people’s houses; she loved waking up in her own bed. But, she was having an incredibly good time, and she didn’t want you to have to be forced to stay sober and wait for her, so she took Robin up on her offer.

You wondered if Katie might regret her decision in the morning, based solely on the fact that she was three sheets to the wind, and waking up with a hangover in a strange house is never optimal, but the intense flirting going on between her and Robin gave you all the reasoning you needed.

There were a few times you noticed Steve flirting with Katie, but she would always gravitate back to Robin; it was a fascinating triangle that you enjoyed being a witness to.

Back at the house that next morning, Robin let out a heavy sigh, and lifted her eyes to Steve for a beat before directing them back to Katie on the couch. “I think I’m going to need to take this one off your hands, Dingus.”

Steve swallowed a sip that was a bit too hot and clicked his tongue, the sides of his mouth jerking down. “Oh, I figured as much.”

Robin knew she wouldn’t get much of a fight out of him. Sure, he was attracted to Katie, but she was currently just one out of many crushes and conquests he had going on. The fact that he knew what it was like to kiss her, and been inside of her, made Robin jealous more than anything, but the second she felt her affection for Katie reciprocated, all bets were off.

“Besides,” Robin murmured just as they heard Wayne’s truck coming up the driveway. “She has already drooled on my pillow. It’s meant to be.”

Fully awake and playing possum, Katie’s nose was pressed against the back of the sofa, and a huge smile spread across her face.

----------

Later that afternoon, Eddie had a truck on the lift at his garage, wrenching away under the hood in his coveralls, hair tied back, Faith No More belting out from the stereo, when one of the other mechanics called over to him: “Munson, we’ve got company.”

It didn’t scare Eddie that the police were here, but it annoyed him. Getting questioned by Chief Hopper was standard procedure whenever the Coffin Kings were involved with something---whether Eddie played a part in it or not.

It just so happened that this time, he had played a part. He hadn’t been involved in the actual hand off at the Illinois border, but he rode as protection, hired muscle to bulk up their numbers to deter other gangs from trying to infiltrate their run. He never asked too many questions mostly because, in this particular situation, ignorance was bliss. The trade off had gone as planned, but an informant had tipped off the police about the delivery, and that’s what Hopper was there about.

“Hey, Jim, how’s the family?” Eddie came out to the parking lot to meet him at his bronco, leading with the standard polite banter they always started out with. Any other police Chief would’ve sent an officer out to ask these questions, but Jim did it himself as a courtesy because he liked Eddie, and he’d known the kid since he was in high school.

Hopper had on his tan uniform and hat, silver hair dusting his temples and mustache. “Oh, you know, the wife keeps me busy,” he grinned, referring to Joyce Byers. “All the kids have families of their own now, so the holidays are a nightmare.”

“I bet.” Eddie said it like he understood, but he had no idea what it was like to have a big, extended family.

Jim put one hand on his hip and asked about Wayne and Oliver, and then he took a deep breath before asking if Eddie knew anything about the run the Coffin Kings did the night before, and the stash of guns missing from a local warehouse.

Eddie creased his forehead like he was considering the question, and then shook his head. “The guys come here to have their bikes worked on, but I don’t get involved in that other shit. My days as a criminal on the run are behind me.”

Jim looked relieved by the lie. “I figured as much,” he shifted the brim of his hat. “I still have to ask where you were last night, just for the sake of the paperwork.”

That next part was easy, because he didn’t have to make too much of it up. The barbecue went late and he crashed at Steve and Robin’s.

“They’ll confirm this?”

Robin knew the drill, he never had to wonder. He did have to admit though, the little white lies were getting to him. He wasn’t a fan of cops in general, in the first place, but Jim had always been decent to him. He was doing his best to move away from the outlaw world, but it had been a part of his life for so long, it had its claws in him.

Once the serious questions were over, they both relaxed back into the banter of two people who had known each other for over a decade and cared about each other as friends do. Jim headed around to the driver’s side of his bronco and Eddie kept pace with him.

“We’re hosting another Fight Night here this weekend,” Eddie told him, gesturing with a tilt of his chin to where they usually set the ring up at. “You should come, have a few beers. Bring Joyce.”

Hopper chuckled. “Joyce should get in the ring, she’d wipe the floor with all of you.”

“I have no doubt,” Eddie grinned, thinking about that tiny firecracker of a woman. “If I were a betting man, all of my money would be on her.”

Jim got in behind the wheel and shut the door, leaving his window down. “Thanks for the invite. I’ll check and see if my warden has other plans for me.”

They said their goodbyes, and Eddie stayed to watch him exit the compound, offering a wave as he went.

That night, Eddie came out of the shower and into the bedroom of his apartment enveloped in a cloud of steam, with nothing but a dark blue towel wrapped around his waist, and wet hair hanging down his shoulders. He gave the phone on the nightstand a cautious look when it started ringing, his mind racing with all of the people he did not want to hear from at that late hour.

When he finally picked it up just before the fourth ring with a suspicious and informal, “Yeah?” his heart stuttered in his chest to find out that the person at the other end of the line was you.

--------

“So, are you two a couple now?” You asked Katie once you got home from work to find her giddy about the new developments between her and Robin.

“We haven’t even kissed yet,” Katie said from where she was at kitchen counter, washing lettuce for a salad. “But by lesbian standards, we’ll probably be moving in together next week.” It was a joke, of course, but there was also an element of truth there.

You sat down at the kitchen island to rest your chin on your fist. “I like you with Robin. Much better than Kelsey.” Kelsey was a long distance girlfriend that Katie had stayed faithful to for over a year before she realized that she was being cheated on mercilessly.

“Ugh,” Katie shivered at the thought. “You can’t even compare the two. Not even from the same universe.”

“What about you?” Katie asked as you slumped over with your coat still on and your bag over your shoulder. “Did Eddie break the seal yet?” She turned to raise her eyebrows a few times, suggestively.

“Please,” you barked a laugh. “At this rate, we’ll be in the nursing home before this escalates to dry humping,” as much as you were ready to crack jokes, the fact that he wasn’t jumping down your throat like every other guy made you like him even more. “I think he’s kind of shy, like me.”

“Wait, you’re shy?” Katie snickered.

“You know what I mean. Cautious, reserved: insert appropriate adjective here.”

“What is this, Mad Libs for dysfunctional adults?”

You let out a pensive sigh, your shoulders dropping. “Am I an adult? Because I haven’t felt this goofy over a guy I haven’t even kissed yet since I was a tween.”

Katie stopped what she was doing and dug in the front pocket of her jeans. “That reminds me. This is for you. It’s from Steve.”

With a tired frown on your face, you opened the lined notebook paper to see a phone number written in black ink, with Eddie’s name on top of it.

What were you so afraid of? He was just a hot, hard working, tattooed biker dude, with soft lips and kind eyes who you could absolutely see yourself falling in love with. What was there to be hesitant about??? Call him!

No...wait….

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

It took you a few hours to build up the courage, but you finally got settled on the wicker chair in your room with your Conair clear phone with neon insides balancing on your knee.

It was a while before he answered, and you were just about to hang up when his voice came on the line, stern and gruff.

“Yeah?” He didn’t sound glad to hear from you, but to be fair, he didn’t know it was you, yet.

You cleared your throat. “Hello, I’d like to speak to Mr. Edward Munson, please. Is he in the office today?”

Relief flooded through Eddie’s body, pumping refreshing blood into his heart when he recognized your voice. “He’s not here at the moment, you might want to try is vacation home in Greece.”

“I’m not here either,” you teased. “I’m calling you from outer space.”

Wet hair dripping down his chest, Eddie brought the phone closer and sat down on the edge of the bed, hard pressed to wipe the grin off of his face.

“I...called to let you to know I was thinking about you,” it just came bubbling out. There would be no pretense of hard to get here, you had no game.

The sincerity struck him dumb for a moment, but then, he wrapped one arm around his chest, tucking his hand into his armpit, giving himself an excited squeeze. “Yeah? Well, that’s a coincidence because I was just thinking about you while I was in the shower.”

Munson! *internally slaps forehead* Don’t tell her you were in the shower, god. She’s going to think you were doing exactly what you were doing which was jerking it to the thought of her being in there with you.

“I mean, when I got out of the shower, and saw your painting, I thought about you,” his eyes closed at the pathetic nature of that rebound.

You skipped over all of that and jumped to that next thing he just said. “You hung my painting in your apartment?”

He looked over at the painting in question, adjusting the towel at his hips. “Of course, silly. Where did you think I would put it? Above the bar at the Hideout?”

You fiddled the phone cord, twisting it around your finger. “I was thinking it would go in your coffin or tomb, wherever you sleep at night.”

He gave a low grumble of a laugh. “Oh that painting is definitely getting buried with me, I can promise you that.”

The conversation ebbed from talking about work, to asking about family. You learned that Eddie’s uncle Wayne was like a father to him, and that his biological parents were no longer a part of his life. This mirrored your loneliness at the fact that your father passed away two years ago and you weren’t close with your mother. You didn’t have the equivalent to an uncle Wayne though, but you wished that you did.

After a half hour or so, Eddie said, “hold on for just a second? I need to put some clothes on,” and your brain plummeted off a cliff to a really dirty place. Had he been naked for the entire time?

There was a dragging sound and a click as he picked the receiver up again, “sorry about that. I’m back.”

“I know it’s late,” you were trying to pull your thoughts out of the gutter, but they were rolling around in the mud, kicking their feet and giggling. “I should probably let you--”

“No, I mean, I’m not---” he stretched out on the bed and put his head on the pillow, his hand on his stomach. “Unless you need to go. I like the sound of your voice.”

“Well, you see, I don’t have any clothes on either. So, if you’re dressed, then I might as well throw something on too.”

“Wait, what?” Eddie stiffened, his eyes bulging wide for a blink. Was she serious?

“Clothes are so retraining. I want to be free, Eddie.”

He snorted and ran his hand up and down his belly. You were joking. But, now he was picturing you naked and his cock was growing. He reached down to palm it over his gray sweats, hoping to calm the beast. Phone sex was not out of the question, and he’d jump at the chance if you were down, but he was enjoying the soothing effect you had on him; it was the first night in a while that he felt relaxed and not pacing around the room, moodily spinning his wheels.

You were telling him the story of how you and Katie met, because he asked, and, as you did, he stretched over to flick the bedside lamp off so that he could close his eyes and let your voice wash over him in the dark.

“What about that fight thing Robin mentioned? Is that still happening?” You asked, and then you heard a soft little snort, as if he had drifted off to sleep for a second. You were snuggled down in the cushions of your chair with your cat Charlie in your lap, and your head snapped up. “Eddie?”

“I’m here,” he groaned in a whisper. “Sorry sweetheart, I don’t know what is happening to me.”

Sweetheart.

“Oh, I have a plethora of boring stories that will have you seeing sheep in no time, trust me.”

“You’re not boring,” he smiled against the phone. It was like you could hear his smile, day old stubble scratching against the receiver, a bit of saliva popping at the corner of his mouth. “You’re one of the most unique, interesting people I’ve ever met.”

There was a self-deprecating urge to quip, “well, then you haven’t met many people,” but you decided to just accept the compliment and move on.

He hadn’t planned on inviting you to Fight Night, only because it was a powder keg of testosterone and booze, and he didn’t think you’d be into it. He had grown up on the streets, thinking that getting into fist fights was the norm, but then in high school, Wayne got him into boxing, and he was grateful for the form, cadence, and stamina it afforded him.

Also, what if he lost the fight? Highly unlikely unless he decided to throw it on purpose, but did he want you to see that? Did you even want to see that? But Robin had already mentioned it, and he didn’t want you to think he didn’t want to see you.

“Yeah, the fights are Friday night, here at the compound. It’s pretty lame, actually. Lots of grunting and dick measuring,” he exhaled a heavy breath, his eyelids fluttering. “I would love to...take you on a date though, a real one. Somewhere nice.”

“It doesn’t have to be too nice,” you bit your lip, hoping he didn’t think you needed the full white tablecloth experience like some other women he knew. A cozy dinner and a movie was the type of scene you preferred. “You might be surprised at what a cheap date I am.”

“Back to The Hideout it is,” he clapped his hand to his chest, finishing with a throaty, warm chuckle.

You could tell he was fading away, and so you thought up a story to tell him; it was a personal favorite about a road trip you took with your dad when you were little. You knew any story would do because, after about 5 minutes, you heard his breathing get progressively heavier until there was a slight whistle in his nose at the intake of breath. So, you finished the story, and then held the phone close to your ear for way too long just to listen to him breathing.

“Sweet dreams my Eddie,” you whispered just before you reluctantly disconnected.

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

The next morning, Eddie woke up feeling more refreshed than he had in months. He had a solid 7 hours of sleep, which was unheard of lately, and it put an honest to god spring in his step. Of course, when he realized that the phone was by his head omitting a blank dial tone, he cursing himself for an early sleep to embrace him on that night of all nights. He’d just slipped into oblivion while you were talking to him, lulled to sleep by your sweet voice. He thought he had dreamed it, but now he was sure that you had said goodnight to him. Had you called him your Eddie? Maybe that part had been a dream, but not an impossible one.

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

While Katie had the week off, deservedly so, you were working overtime at the gallery to get ready for another show. Eddie called you on Wednesday night, but you got home way too late and had to hear his message on the answering machine because Katie was out somewhere with Robin. On Thursday night, you were there to answer his call, and the two of you talked for hours, even though you both agreed that you hated talking on the phone. Because of the new show at your gallery on Saturday night, the two of you made plans to go on an official date the following Tuesday, and Eddie told you he would pick the place, after asking a few questions about things that you liked.

There was still Fight Night on Friday to consider, but you got the feeling that the thought of you being there made Eddie uncomfortable. You had a strange protective nature that came over you when you cared about someone, though, and this nonsensical part of you want to be there to...make sure he didn’t get hurt? How would you manage that? You had very little to offer by way of physical strength, but you would, indeed, pull the fire alarm if Eddie looked like he was getting in over his head during the fight.

Robin and Katie and Steve were all going to be there, so you felt like it was the obvious plan. You even considered inviting Jeff because he was always complaining that there was nothing fun to do in town since he moved to the little hamlet from Chicago.

Also, you just really really missed Eddie, and wanted to see him. Tuesday was only a few days away, but it might as well have been a year.

----------

On Thursday night, Eddie fell asleep while on the phone with you again, as he told you he might, and you didn’t mind. Not only was he falling asleep, but he was officially falling for you and, for the first time in his life, he liked the way it felt. He got 8 hours of shut eye that night, on the eve of Fight Night, not realizing at the time how badly he would need it.

-------

The second Robin parked her jeep around the block for Fight Night, you understood why Eddie might not want you there.

It was like a carnival, but for booze, bikers, and strippers, complete with a DJ at a huge stereo system near the fence blasting out the song Only by Anthrax, and there were hot girls...so many of them...scantily dressed to kill, wandering around the property. White string lights draped around the fence, illuminating the walkway and there were also cast iron clad bonfires at every corner that groups huddled around. You weren’t even through the front gate yet, and you could already see two half naked women in the ring, executing a few pre-rehearsed wrestling moves for a bunch of howling bikers.

“What the hell?” Jeff murmured to you as three of the young, studly Prospect biker boys walked by, hair slicked back, wearing all leather. “Where have I been? Where did all these hot, dirty boys come from?”

He held onto your arm as you walked, hurrying up the sidewalk to the compound a few steps to catch up with Katie and Robin, both of whom were holding hands and taking turns leaning over to kiss each other as they walked. Steve was ahead of them, giving a signal to the bouncers at the gate to let them know that you were all with him before they let you in. He told you on the ride over that they had to have strict security at the event, and someone from the Coffin Kings, Westside Reapers, or Hell’s Belles (an all female MC) had to vouch for you, since the one time a rival gang showed up a few years back and there was a huge brawl.

“Hey, lovebirds,” you popped your face in between Robin and Katie’s pressed together shoulders just as they pulled back from another electric smooch. “No one told me this was basically a clothes optional event?”

Just inside the gate, as the three burly, bearded bouncers looked you all up and down, Robin turned and gave you a concerned look. “Eddie didn’t warn you about what a pussy fest this would be?”

Eddie had warned you, just not about that part specifically. You left the house feeling plenty cute enough in your skirt, fishnets and Doc Martens, but the fact that you had a shirt on over your bra made you feel extremely overdressed.

Eddie hadn’t even thought to mention the strippers and the arm candy and the groupies because he truly didn’t even give them a second thought. Since he met you, other women didn’t appeal to him beyond the casual acknowledgment of their attractiveness, and the whole scene just bored him damn near to death. Aside from a few exceptions being women who were taken by other guys in the club, Eddie could take any one of them up to his room at the drop of the hat, and that just wasn’t what he wanted anymore. The thrill was gone, as they say. He was up in his apartment doing some last-minute pushups as he listened to the crowd get rowdy down below. Steve called earlier to let you know that the girls were coming, including you, and for some reason, it gave him a nervous flutter in his stomach. He wasn’t too concerned about the other women bothering you, because he knew you had the confidence to handle your own. His worry had to do with the other dudes at that party and wanting to make sure none of them tried anything with you. Pity the fool who tried to make a move on you under his watch.

The parking lot of Munson’s Garage was huge, but that night it was still easy to bump shoulders with people as you walked because there were so many of them. There was a keg and two ice tubs full of beer, as well as the many flasks of hard alcohol you saw being passed around. You saw a beautiful woman with long black hair giving one of the bikers a lap dance, and then burst of cheering exploded in your ear as one of the women in the ring threw the other one against the ropes.

Steve was immediately manhandled by two of the tattooed groupies who could’ve been models and looked like twins. He gave a shy tilt of his head but a charming waggle of his eyebrows as they kissed his cheeks, rubbed his chest, and asked him where he’d been. Robin had one arm around Katie’s waist, and her other arm motioned for you and Jeff to follow them to get some beers.

You and Jeff both looked like the proverbial deer in headlights. Not even full-grown deer, but little baby does on wobbly knees who were looking for their mommy.

Jeff assessed the cans in the tub of ice. “Not a white wine spritzer in sight,” he muttered to you, but mostly to himself. “I am not excited for the beer bloat I am going to have tomorrow.”

“Your brave sacrifice has been noted,” you told him, reaching down for a can, while the girls chose to tap the keg. There was a small fee for the beer, and Robin threw some money in, letting you know she had the first round.

The music cut out suddenly as the women in the ring did a farewell pass around, picking up the cash that was being fluttered over the ropes to them. The DJ asked for applause for the girls, and then he announced the names for the first fight of the evening. According to Steve, the first couple fights would be mostly amateur hour, a few younger Prospects from the Coffin Kings, and a couple of the other gangs that were in attendance. After that, there’d be 3 main fights, all different weight classes, and Eddie’s was last. The fights were a mix of bare-knuckle boxing/kickboxing and mostly just for fun, but there was some friendly betting that went on, and there was always a chance for someone to get really hurt as the adrenaline ran hot. Eddie knocked his opponent out so hard last year, the guy confessed to actually seeing stars.

A tan, busty blonde in a red string bikini did a tour of the ring holding up the large card to give the official mark for round one. For the first two fights, you enjoyed the time with your friends, amused at how easily the beer was going down for Jeff, considering he supposedly didn’t like the taste of it. Robin introduced you to some of her friends who rode with the gang Hell’s Belles, and she introduced Katie once as her girlfriend, which was an accidental slip up, and she worried it was too soon, but, honestly, Katie liked it.

As the third and final amateur fight got underway, your eyes shifted up to Eddie’s apartment, and in that second, you decided that you couldn’t wait, that you needed to see him, you didn’t want to hold out until the end of the fights. You gave your beer to Jeff and told him to stay with Katie and Robin, and then you made your way over as Back in Black by AC/DC played for the first fighter walk-up.

The garage was locked up, and the porch to Eddie’s door was fenced off, but there were a couple of leggy girls in skintight dresses and stiletto heels hanging around just outside of it, near one of the fire pits, as if waiting for him. You excused yourself as you weaved around them, oblivious to their judgmental stares, angling with your hand to reach down and flick open the temporary fence gate.

“Excuse me, sweetie, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” The one who looked like Paris Hilton said, eyeballing your outfit.

You gave a broken laugh, confused. “I came to see Eddie, he’s a friend of mine.”

One of the other girls snorted, and Paris put her hands on her narrow hips. “He’s busy, sweetheart, but if you want to leave a message with me, I’ll be sure to pass it along.” She was not being sincere when she said it, in fact, the rest of them started giggling, mockingly so. They were all taller than you, but only because their heels put on another 4”.

She moved to block the gate, and before you could think of the next thing to say, the Paris girl was in your face again. “Like I said, sweetie, move along. There’s nothing for you here,” and then she flicked her hand a few times for emphasis.

Confusing your politeness for weakness was her first mistake. You took a step towards her, straightening your shoulders, narrowing your eyes on her obvious rhinoplasty. “I’m not going anywhere until I see Eddie.”

“Listen, bitch---” Paris crossed her arms and sent daggers from her eyes, just before she was cut off.

“Erika!” Eddie growled from the doorway; forehead clenched. “Move.”

Relief took the vise grip off of your chest at the sight of his face. Hulking in the doorway, he gave you a tilt of his chin, and then his attention went back to the Paris/Erika girl.

“Oh sorry baby,” Erika turned around, her voice high pitched, her demeanor completely changed. “I figured you didn’t want to be disturbed so I was---”

Eddie ignored her as he went over to unlock the makeshift fencing that he only put up for events so that he could have a space of his own. He had on a black muscle shirt with wide, scooped out arm holes so that his sides were visible and a pair of sweats. Heat radiated off of him and little hollow spot his throat glistened with sweat like he had just been working out, dark hair hanging long, passed his shoulders.

He held the short gate open for you, his back to Erika, as you scooted into the space. “You look good enough to eat,” his eyes traveled down your body and then back up to meet your eyes.

“In that case, I hope you’re hungry,” you replied with a coy grin. Your responses always caught him off guard and he blew a quick laugh out his nose. One of the guys in the ring got socked in the nose by his opponent and stumbled back against the ropes, dazed.

He locked the gate again and turned toward you, but you peeked around his body to make eye contact with Erika one last time. “Have a good night, sweetie,” you told her, flashing a fake smile.

The disgust and jealousy on her face was palpable and priceless.

You and Eddie hadn’t physically progressed beyond the point of brief handholding yet, but it felt like you hadn’t seen him in a month, and you needed to be close to him. You stepped forward, leaned against his chest, and pressed your cheek above his heart, ziplocking your body to his as your arms wrapped around his muscular frame, palms smoothing in circles on his back.

Eddie returned the embrace with a needful sigh. “Mhmm this is what I needed, right here,” he murmured, planting a kiss on the top of your head. The two of you just swayed there for a bit; he rocked gently, shifting his weight to each foot, taking you with him.

You tilted your head back to anchor your chin on his chest and he looked down to meet your eyes.

“I couldn’t wait till after the fight,” you admitted. “I missed you.”

When you declared your affection for him, even in the slightest way, it made his insides go all gooey and sweet, but it also made a part of him tense up, awareness of how lost in you he could get striking a healthy amount of fear in him. Putting his trust in someone, giving over his heart, had never gone well for him in the past.

“Yeah?” he used the tip of his fingers to push a few strands of hair off of your forehead, and then ran his knuckle down your cheek. “Well that’s funny, cause I’ve been missing you pretty bad too.”

The referee blew his whistle and called the fight. You and Eddie had a close view from the front of this place, and both of the guys coming down from the ring had swollen, cut faces, and one of them was limping. The DJ played Engine No. 9 by Deftones as they prepared for the main event fights.

“Who are you fighting tonight?” You asked as you slowly and reluctantly lowered your arms, and he did the same, but he kept one hand at your back, scooping you securely to his side, craving contact with you.

Eddie checked the crowd to see if he could spot the big redhead, but no luck; there were way too many fucking people there. “His nickname is Critter, he runs with the Westside Reapers. He’s a good fighter,” Eddie shrugged, and then he looked down at your concerned face, squeezing your shoulder. “but don’t worry, Princess, I’m better.”

“Hey War Machine,” a gruff voice came from the other side of the fence, near the garage. You both turned to see a tall, bald, older man in a Coffin Kings cut addressing Eddie. “Doc is ready for you.”

The guy wasn’t actually a doctor, but he was a medic, and he helped to tape up hands before the fights, and then tape up faces after. Eddie also needed to change his clothes and get all lathered up with Vaseline.

Eddie told him he’d be right there, and then his attention came back to you. “Wait for me after?”

You were smiling like an idiot at him, loving the hell out of his face. “Of course.”

You didn’t care if “after” meant 48 hours from now; you’d still be waiting there.

And then he kissed your forehead and went over to jump the fence.

---------

“Am I drunk, or is that guy really hot?” Jeff asked, nudging to direct your eyes over to a shy looking biker boy with a curly blonde pony tail and shockingly blue eyes. He had an absolute baby face, he couldn’t have been much older than 20.

“He’s definitely your type,” you assured him. “I think he’s been checking you out for a while, too.”

“Okay, so it’s not just my imagination?” Jeff balked, relieved that he hadn't lost his touch.

Just then, the guy lifted his hand in a covert wave, and Jeff mimicked it. “Oh my god, I love you for bringing me here,” Jeff whispered without moving his lips. “Besties for life.”

You bought the next round of beers just as the second main fight finished and it was about to be Eddie’s turn.

“Damn, I didn’t know I’d get this nervous,” you told Robin, looking down at your feet.

“It never gets easier to watch, I’ll tell you that,” she returned, agreeing with you, a smile in her eyes as she caught sight of Katie coming back through the crowd. But then her eyes shifted to see the genuine set of fear and concern on your face. “Hey, I know he’s kinda humble about it, but Eddie’s a beast, and he’s smart. He can take care of himself up there, don’t worry,” and then she rubbed her hand on your arm and it felt very warm and motherly.

Critter, the guy Eddie was fighting came out to a good amount of claps and shouts; he was a stocky redhead with his hair in a faux hawk, covered in really crude, homemade tattoos. He had on silky sapphire blue shorts and the word “REAPER” inked in large, old English letters across his upper back.

He bounced around in his corner, shaking his hands out, and working his neck.

Eddie came out to Walk by Pantera and everyone went nuts for him when they announce War Machine was entering the ring; arms all raised high, cupping hands around mouths to shout, a lot of fingers throwing up the symbol for devil horns. You wanted to be closer, so you pushed your way through the crowd, keeping your eyes on him as he came up the steps and climbed in through the ropes.

His chiseled but natural muscle tone literally glistened, accentuating the big tattoo on his chest, and now you could see that part of his was a menacing bat with fangs. Big tattoos on each bicep, and then there were a few on his forearms, and a couple designs on his thigh and back that you had never seen before. The other guy, Critter, had surprisingly skinny legs, like he spent his time training upper body and nothing else. Eddie’s physique on the other hand, was built for power at all angles. His shorts were black with a dark purple cluster of bats on one side, just like his tattoo.

You had never spent much time watching boxing, but for in the movies, and both of them had a “corner man” who helped to take care of them, and in this case, for Eddie, it was the bald, older Coffin King you’d seen earlier. Eddie had his hair tied back in a knot, and you watched as his corner man helped him secure his gloves as he bounced a little in place.

You got in as close as you could, not realizing at first that you were standing right behind Steve. You tapped him on the shoulder. “Is this guy any good?”

Steve looked at you over his shoulder. “Who? Eddie?”

“No,” for some reason, you were whispering even though the place was too loud for anyone to hear you. “The other one.”

He hitched his head to one side and brought his shoulder up. “Meh, he’s alright. Nothing to worry about.”

Once the fight started, Eddie wasn’t one to dive in for a kill; a big part of his advantage was how patient he was, and how well he was able to disconnect from his emotions. He had already scanned the crowd for you, knew exactly where you were, and his eyes would shift there from time to time.

Critter charged him like a bull, and Eddie stepped away so fast, the guy looked confused, like maybe he had suddenly elevated into the sky. The guy had a lot of energy and aggression, and those things alone had won fights before, so Eddie stayed alert.

Critter wasn’t great at keeping his guard up, and so Eddie lit a good one to the side of his head, and then a jab to the gut just before the two were asked to break apart for a minute.

“Do I know you?” A voice materialized at your ear. The ref had just told the two fighters to pause, and so you looked over to see who was asking.

It was another biker, but he didn’t look like he was with one of the gangs. He had an Ethan Hawke look about him. “I don’t think so,” you told him, eyes returning to the match.

“That’s crazy,” the guy kept talking, leaning closer to you, his stubble catching in your hair. “Cause I swear I recognize you from somewhere. What’s your name?”

For some reason, instead of telling him to buzz off, you gave him your name, and then he stuck his hand out to shake yours. “Nice to meet you, they call me Brick.”

Eddie was just getting ready to dodge a swing when he saw it: the dude leaning over, in your face, with your hand in his.

Critter made contact and clocked him a good one to the eye socket. Eddie stumbled back, blinking, his skull vibrating. It took him a second, but then he drove forward and caught Critter with a left hook, and then grabbed his head and slammed it into his knee---which was an illegal street fighting move, and the ref blew the whistle.

Your hand flew to your mouth with a gasp when Eddie got hit, but he seemed to recover fairly quickly and then went after the guy ten-fold, in a way that almost made you feel bad for Critter.

Suddenly, that emotionless, in control part of Eddie was slipping away, and all he could think of was how he didn’t want that guy to be anywhere near you. He wanted this fight to be over.

Critter caught him again because Eddie slipped his guard, and then he got a second one in the ribs for losing his concentration. He barreled down on Critter like a hammer after that, landing one after the other until the ref had to stop things and check on the other dude.

You hoped that the guy next to you finally got the hint that you weren’t interested in chatting, but he was still standing there, unnecessarily close, with his shoulder locked against yours.

“Do you live around here?” Brick continued.

You were just about to say it was none of his business when there was a lull in the crowd, and Steve heard his question. The flirtatious nature of his tone made Steve turn around to see who was talking.

He made eye contact with Brick and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Dude, get lost. Go find another girl.”

“Nah, I think I’m fine right here,” Brick countered, lifting his eyebrows.

The tension got thick real quick.

The fight in the ring started up again, but now Steve was turning all the way around to square his shoulders at Brick. “I said, get lost,” he enunciated every syllable with force, dark brown eyes glowing.

Eddie got jabbed in the kidney for pausing too long, and it was at that moment when he decided he was done with this shit. He took a giant step and cracked a tight punch to Critter’s jaw that actually made him spin half-way around in the air before dropping to the mat with a final thud. The ref blew the whistle, waved his arms like crazy, and then went over to make sure the dude was still breathing.

Eddie did not look happy as he jumped the ropes.

Steve hadn’t liked this guy at first glance, and now he was being disrespectful? Not happening.

Steve got up in Brick’s face, challenging him, chest to chest, and even though you were trying to back away as quickly as you could, the crowd behind you would not give. Brick brought his arms out to shove Steve back, and his elbow caught you in the mouth. You yelped as your head snapped back, teeth clamping onto your tongue, tasting blood, rocking on your feet.

Eddie was shoving people out of the way to get to you; he felt like things were moving in slow motion, like he was in some kind of nightmare where he couldn’t get to you in time and somehow you ended up getting really hurt. Finally, he was catching you by the arms and pulling you tight to his chest. Pieces of your hair glued to the stickiness of his skin as you clung to him for dear life. He took your face in his hands to find that your teeth were pink and a bit of blood was spilling from the side of your mouth, and a low growl escaped his throat. “Sweetheart,” he said softly, trying to wipe the blood from your chin with his thumb, but it only smeared, and angry tears welled in his eyes.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the guy swing at Steve, but it didn’t land, and Steve pushed him back with extreme force. Brick stumbled back, but then bounced off the hands of the crowd and returned like he was shot from a rubber band.

The crowd was jostling now, buzzing with shouts and people turning to see what was going on. Your vision was blurry. Some of them were yelling to break it up, but some of them wanted it to escalate.

“Steve...Eddie!” Robin screamed as she scrambled to come up next to you and Eddie, breathless, Katie and Jeff close in tow, all of them stressed out. Actually, Jeff looked more amused than anything and you knew he couldn't wait to retell this story.

“Take her,” Eddie said to Robin, passing you off reluctantly so that he could take care of business.

Eddie put his hand out to catch Steve’s shoulder and stop him in his tracks. “I got this,” he said, eyes narrowing on Brick.

Just as intimidated by Eddie as most people were, Brick took a stutter step before lashing out with his best punch, only to have it effortlessly blocked. Eddie got close enough to grab him by the jacket, making a tight fist in the material, yanking him closer, and Brick tried to get a punch in, but he didn’t have much reach. Eddie’s other hand reeled back to make a fist and land a bare-knuckle blow with just enough force to clock his lights out. Brick’s eyes rolled back in his head as he went limp in Eddie's grasp for a second and then fell sideways, and a couple of leather clad Hell’s Belles stepped out of the way so that the pavement could catch him.

Eddie and Steve walked over to stand above him, and found that the guy was stunned, eyes rolling in his head, but he was conscious. He really did have a hard head; now it made sense why they called him Brick.

Eddie spit on him. “I ever see you again, I’ll fucking kill you,” and then he looked around at all of the eyes on them, and added, “someone get this piece of shit out of here before the cops show up.” And then there were hands coming out everywhere to drag Brick away and throw him in a dumpster down the block where he could think about what he’d done.

You were scared of what Eddie would do to that guy, but you weren’t scared of Eddie. When he was on his way back, you slipped free of Robin’s grasp and met him half way, rushing into his arms, reaching up to feather your fingers over his swollen cheek and eye that was soon to blacken. There was hair stuck to his cheek and you smoothed it away just before he took your hand and kissed the middle of your palm. Most of the crowd went back to socializing as normal, as if this had been just a casual thing that they were used to, and the DJ started the music again.

Sinking into heavy, adrenaline fueled breaths, he held your chin in his curled knuckle while his other arm went around your waist. He brought his face close to yours, and cupped your throat, noses brushing side by side, foreheads touching, exchanging oxygen through parted lips, like two deep sea divers whose lives depended on it. You had wiped the blood from your chin, but you could still taste the copper penny tang, and he moved his mouth to plant a kiss on the side of your lips, softly, a low purr omitting from his chest as he did so.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice cracking, lips grazing, as your hands sought each other, trying to get as close as you could. He pulled back to inspect every inch of your face, and then brushed his lips over your mouth.

“I am now,” you told him.

He took your hand and held it to his chest, sweaty and still viscous with petroleum, oblivious to the rest of the party continuing on around you.

You could feel his mouth hovering, wanting more, but hesitant, so gentle. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he breathed.

“I can’t feel a thing,” you confessed, referring to your bitten and numb tongue. “But, my mouth is bloody.”

“I don’t care,” he said, and there was a bit of an eager whimper on the intake of breath as his plump lips melted onto yours, moaning as he did so, tightening his grip on you, grabbing your face, aching, feeding on the air from your lungs and your bloody kisses as the rest of the world faded away.

----------

“She took them both to the grave

to the grave

a pair of souls become undone

Where were two, now are one”

- Bloody Kisses, Type O Negative, 1994

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Part 6

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taglist 💕 @unfocused81 @manicmagicmahem @dream-a-little-nightmare @ms1oftheboys @emxcast @falling-solar-system @corrodedcoffincumslut @lofaewrites @nope-thanks @kelsiegrin

@tlclick73 @aysheashea @hellv1ra @bexreadstoomuch @kurdtbean

@seventhlevelofhell @stylesxmunson @ireidsmut

#eddie munson fanfic #eddiemunson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson au #90s au #1990s #eddie munson smut #older eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things

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takemebackto-eden · 8 months

Text

EM ‘Hey Stranger’ • Chapter One - Black Magic Woman

Chapter summary: A new person in town arrives at Hawkins Record Store.

Content warning: alcohol use, mention of weed.

‘Yes, you’ve got your spell on me, baby,

You’ve turned my heart into stone,

I need you so bad, magic woman, I can’t leave you alone’

Black Magic Woman - Fleetwood Mac

Friday / 10:55pm: closing time / Hawkins Record Store

Eddie: [headphones over his ears, listening to Metallica on his cassette tape, muttering to himself] “How did the slushie get on the damn ceiling?”

Earlier that day:

Dustin and the gang flooded into the record store, noisy and shoving their way through the door, much to the manager’s annoyance. As Dustin and Mike ogled at the busty ladies on the covers of various metal records, El and Max rolled their eyes and shoved them, hard enough to spill slushie all over the floor, and on the ceiling apparently.

Engrossed in mopping the floor, Eddie didn’t hear the “ring-ring” of the bell above the door signalling a customer’s entrance, despite the lights being dimmed and the ‘closed’ sign turned on the door.

Nina: (quietly) “Excuse me, can you help me please?”

Eddie continued to mop the floor, singing along to himself softly.

Nina: [tapping Eddie on the shoulder] “Excuse me?”

Eddie: [letting out a girlish squeal, throwing the mop in the air, hitting the customer in the face] “Fuck!”

Nina: [holding her nose in pain, eyes watering, annoyed] “Holy shit, what the fuck man?”

Eddie: (earnestly, heart racing in shock, disorientated) “Oh fuck, oh shit, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

Nina: (sarcastically) “Oh, never better, you just broke my nose!”

Eddie: [running around the store, searching for tissues for her nose] “I am so sorry, I didn’t see you there, can I get you anything?”

Nina: [scrunching her nose up, checking for blood] “A new nose maybe?”

Eddie: (joking)”We just sold our last one this morning, sorry!”

Eddie inwardly cringed at his poor attempt at a joke, smiling sheepishly at the customer as she gave him a deadpanned stare.

Eddie: (blushing, scratching his neck nervously) “I don’t know why I said that, that was dumb, sorry. Are you okay?”

Stupid, stupid, stupid, he thought.

Nina: [blinking away her watery eyes] “It’s okay, it was an accident. I should have knocked.” [Checking the door, seeing the CLOSED sign] “and maybe checked the door,” [joking] “guess we’re both at fault, huh?”

Eddie: [bewildered] “Sure…”

The mop lay on the wet floor of the record store. Eddie stood in the puddle, arms dangling limply by his side. He looked at the customer in awe, blushing.

You’re new, he thought.

It was rare to get girls in the record store.

Nina: [tugging at her cardigan sleeves, shy under Eddie’s gaze] “I’m looking for an album, I was wondering if you have it in stock? I know it’s past closing time but I’m desperate, and then we can call it even. Cool?”

Eddie: [feeling nervous, small smile on his face, palms sweaty] “Sure, what are you looking for?”

Nina: “I’m looking for Rumours by Fleetwood Mac on vinyl, any luck? Mine’s broken.”

Eddie: [springing into life, false enthusiasm] “Why of course! Here at Hawkins Record Store we’re here to cater to all musical tastes!”

Eddie skipped over to the back corner of the store, doing dramatic jazz hands in front of the rock section. Nina watched, amused. The corner was decorated with twinkly fairy lights and bohemian wall hangings, and smelled like opium incense.

This is the first place since coming to Hawkins that felt like home, thought Nina.

Nina: [quietly] “Thanks.”

Eddie stood behind Nina, watching her every move, as she flicked through the vinyls Nina found herself smiling at how adorably awkward the cute shop clerk is. Eddie racked his brain of ways to carry on the conversation.

Eddie: [awkwardly] “So, uh, your last vinyl broke huh? That good, is it?”

Nina: [shyly] “Oh it broke in some boxes, I’ve just moved here.” [Eyes flicking between Eddie and the vinyls.]

Eddie: “Thought I hadn’t seen you around. I would definitely remember seeing you.”

Eddie blushed at the realisation of what he said, Nina smiled at his comment. Eddie felt giddy that he made her smile.

A peaceful quietness settled in the store. Eddie shamelessly checked out the cute customer, ogling at her behind. He shook himself back to reality, embarrassed by dirty staring.

Eddie: [voice squeaky, loud in the quiet room] “Two for one on selected albums!”

Nina: [turning around, puzzled] “…Sorry?”

Eddie: [awkwardly] “We, erm, have two for the price of one on certain items. Spring sale, y’know, all that jazz.”

You’re making an idiot of yourself, Eddie thought.

Nina: [smiling, eager to engage in conversation] “Oh cool, anything you’d recommend?”

Nina doesn’t know anyone in Hawkins besides Robin and her Mom, and Eddie looked like the sort of friends she had back home.

Excitement bubbles in Eddie’s stomach. The cute girl is talking to me. Be cool.

Eddie: [enthusiastically] “A personal favourite of mine is Ride the Lightning, ten out of ten would recommend.” [He pulls the album off the rack, presenting it to her]

Nina: “Wow, ten out of ten, I’ll have to give it a go. But if it sucks, I’m blaming you.” [Nina’s smile widened, fidgeting in her spot under his stare.]

Is she flirting with me? Eddie thought. No, she can’t be.

Eddie: [attempting to flirt, reciprocating her smile] “I will happily take the blame, though I doubt you’ll be disappointed.”

Eddie rang up her bill, his mind desperately trying to think of ways to continue the conversation. Instead, they stood quietly as Nina fumbled with her purse.

Nina: [eyeing up Eddie’s name tag on his black shirt] “See you around, Eddie.” [Smiles, picks up her bag and leaves.]

Eddie can’t remember saying goodbye, or anything at all, as she walked out of the store.

I didn’t even ask her name.

Eddie finished up mopping the floor, smiling a shit eating dimpled grin to himself.

Eddie thought about her all weekend, even volunteering to cover other people’s shifts in hopes of seeing her again, to no avail. He even told Dustin about her, to which Dustin mocked his terrible flirting skills and how he forgot to ask her name: branding her mysterious Fleetwood Mac girl.

Monday / 8:55AM / Hawkins High School.

Eddie is face down on the lunch table, half asleep, waiting for the 9AM bell to ring. Dustin, Will and Mike exchanging D & D theories. El and Max talking about the Beach Boys, Lucas groaning and rolling his eyes.

At the next table, Steve is ranting about another failed date, while Nancy and Jonathan joke at his expense.

The cafeteria is loud, and Eddie is tired.

The 9AM bell rings, and everyone pours into the hallways to go to the first lesson of the day.

Eddie: [yawning, pulling his books out of his locker, grumpy in the morning.] “Fucking English” [tired] “Who gives a shit what Hemingway says anyway.”

Robin and Nina make their way down the corridor, on their way to first period.

Eddie chokes on his own spit, hiding himself behind the door of his locker.

Shit shit shit.

Robin: [smiling, too happy for so early in the morning] “Hey Eddie! Meet my cousin who isn’t actually my cousin, Nina! She’s just transferred here!”

Eddie: [peeping his head around the locker door, a nervous smile on his face, raking his hands through his hair, shy]“Hi.”

Nina: [amused, smiling] “We’ve met before actually, Eddie here nearly broke my nose.”

She has blue- no, grey eyes, Eddie thought.

Eddie: [smiling too, but dying of embarrassment] “I threw a mop at her face.”

Nice one, dumbass.

Robin: [looking confused, then laughing] “I’m not going to ask! Come on, I’ll walk you to Maths.”

Damn, I forgot how cute she was.

As Robin dragged Nina down the corridor, Nina turned around and gave a small wave to Eddie, which Eddie reciprocated, before continuing to laugh merrily down the corridor to Maths. Eddie took a moment to compose himself before slamming his locker door, walking to English.

12:40pm, lunchtime / Hawkins High School cafeteria.

Eddie’s eyes flick around the room, mind alert, waiting for Nina to enter the cafeteria; eyes glued to the table below him when she enters. He can’t help himself from glancing up occasionally, watching her every move, not being subtle.

Nina sat down beside Robin two tables away from him, with Steve, Nancy and Johnathan.

She laughed hard at a joke Steve made, slapping his arm playfully.

Eddie felt stupid over how jealous he was, he barely knew the girl, but he wanted to be the one she leaned on when he made her laugh so much.

He looked at Nina and then down at the table bitterly.

Dustin: [waving his hand in Eddie’s face] “Hello, earth to Eddie?”

Mike: [shaking his head at Eddie] “You’re wasting your time dude, he’s long gone.”

Max: [muttering] “Maybe Vecna has possessed him.”

Lucas: [shaking his head, laughing Max] “Too soon.” [Max grinned at him.]

Eddie: [blinking, returning to earth from his jealous fantasies] “Huh, what?”

Gareth: [laughing] “You were totally staring at the new girl.”

Jeff: “I don’t blame him, she’s hot.” [Not so subtly glancing at Nina.]

Argyle: [to Jeff, sassy] “She’d never go for a freak like you in a million years.”

The table erupts in “damn”’s and “oh shit”’s.

She’d never go for a freak like me either Jeff, Eddie thought.

Dustin: [quietly, pulling Eddie to the side] “You okay, man?”

Eddie: [hushed] “The new girl is Fleetwood Mac Gi- Nina. She’s called Nina”.

Dustin: [erupting, standing up from his seat] “No way! That’s awesome! It must be fate! The love story begins!”

Eddie drags Dustin back down to his seat as people stare.

Will: “Why are we shushing?”

Mike: “When has Eddie ever shushed, or been shushed?”

El: “What’s going on?”

Lucas: “Eddie has a girlfriend, what?”

Dustin: [laughing] “Eddie’s in looooove!” [doing his signature purr that he does for the ladies]

Questions fly around the table.

Eddie: [grumpy] “Can we please get back to the campaign?” [Back to his usual charismatic self] “A loud rumbling is emerging from the enchanted forest that you little shits aren’t ready for.”

2:40pm / Science class

Eddie huffs as he goes to his seat at the back of class, ready for the day to end. His eyes perk up when Nina enters the classroom.

Mr Clarke: “You’re late.”

Nina: [sheepish] ��Sorry, I got lost. Won’t happen again.” [she works her way to the free seat in the row in front of Eddie. She gives him a small smile, which he bashfully raises his fingers as a 'hello'.]

Mr Clarke: “Wait, not so fast!” [Nina freezes in her spot, eyes closed, dreading what is coming] “You’re the new girl, right? Why don’t you come up to the front and introduce yourself?” [A few people in the class laugh and whisper at each other, Nina turns on her heels and stands awkwardly at the front of the class]

Nina: “Hi, I’m Nina. I’ve just transferred here from California.” [The whispers increase and Nina fiddles with her rings nervously] “That’s about it, really.” [She shuffles awkwardly back to her seat]

Mr Clarke: “Why don’t we give Nina a warm Hawkins welcome?” [the room has scattered applause, Eddie, not giving a fuck, whoops and shoves Jeff to join in, who reluctantly joins in cheering. Nina blushes, catching Eddie’s eye, and sits back down on the creaky science stool.] “So! Physics…” [Mr Clarke begins the lesson]

Nina rummages through her bag for her notebook, leaning on the desk in front of her, the hem of her jeans dipping to show the lace of her underwear.

Jeff notices and elbows Eddie to get his attention, nodding over at Nina’s direction. Eddie shoves him, muttering a quiet ‘Perv’, trying his hardest not to stare. His neck and cheeks go red with heat, and he shuffles uncomfortably in his seat.

Nina: [turning around to face Eddie, Eddie’s eyes raise to meet hers, blushing from nearly being caught staring] “Do you guys happen to have a pen I can borrow?”

Eddie: [stuttering] “Su-sure.” [He goes into his bag and hands her a pen] “Hope it works.”

Nina: [smiling] “Thanks.”

Eddie spent the rest of the lesson daydreaming and doodling in his book. He occasionally looks up at the board, and looks at Nina, hoping to interact with her again. At the end of the lesson, Nina picks up her bag and walks out the lesson. Eddie is left saddened he didn’t speak to her more.

Wednesday / 1:25pm / Hawkins High School Cafeteria

Eddie found himself exchanging fleeting glances with Nina all week at school. A few times she caught his gaze, causing him to blush, not being as subtle as he hoped to be. He came into school early each day in hopes of seeing more of her; excited to see what she wore that day, hoping to overhear her laughter as she walked between classes, hoping one day he’d have the courage to speak to her. He tried to think of excuses to talk to her, each time bottling it. Coward, he thought.

Robin: [teasingly, jabbing Nina’s side] “Are you two ever going to talk, or are you just going to continue eye-fucking each other?”

Nina rolled her eyes, blushing. Nancy giggled into Jonathan’s side, him smirking knowingly.

Nina: [laughing, but somewhat serious] “He nearly broke my nose with a mop, he can make the first move!” [eyes watching Eddie] “What’s his deal anyway?”

Eddie is standing at the lunch table, arms waving around elaborately, speaking about something she couldn’t make out from the other side of the room, causing the Hellfire Club to burst out in a chorus of “No way!”, “I told you!”, “Use your protection spell!” and “Oh man, we are so screwed.”

Nancy: “Eddie runs a Dungeons and Dragons group, they call themselves the Hellfire Club. He’s taken custody of the kids, much to Steve’s jealousy.”

Steve: [clearly jealous] “I’m not jealous okay, he can have the little shits.”

Robin: [teasingly] “Whatever you say, Daddy Steve.”

Steve: [defensively] “I practically birthed those boys-“

Nina: [interrupting, mind wandering, still watching Eddie] “I meant, like, what’s he like?”

Robin: [again, teasing] “Why do you wanna know?”

Steve, Nancy and Jonathan suddenly went quiet, heads leaning in comically towards Nina, watching her teasingly, waiting for the gossip.

Nina: [going red] “I bumped into him at the record store last week. I don’t know, he seems cool.”

Everyone at the table: [teasing, dramatically] “Oooooh!”

Nina: [going redder] “Oh shut up!” [they all laughed in response.]

Steve: “Trust me, you can do a lot better than Eddie Munson.”

Nancy: [shoving Steve] “Hey, not nice Steve!” [to Nina] "Eddie’s a nice guy. Even if he is branded the freak of Hawkins.”

Nina hummed in response, eyes travelling back to Eddie.

She found him looking back at her, his cheeks going red from being caught staring. He flicked back to the D&D group, peeking around shyly to see if she was still looking, hiding behind his hair. He smiled coyly as he realised she was still looking, to which she smiled back.

Steve looks at Robin with raised eyebrows and Robin smirks knowingly.

Steve: “So my parents are away this weekend, drinks at mine on Friday night? We’ll show Nina how we do it, Hawkins style.”

Nancy, Nina, Robin, Jonathan agree and leave their table as the lunch bell rings.

Wednesday / 8pm / Hawkins Record Store

Eddie is organising the shelves as Jonathan enters.

Jonathan: [walking through the shop door, the wind chimes by the door ringing] “Hey dude.”

Eddie: [half asleep] “Hey man, what can I get you?”

Jonathan: [sheepish] “Oh, nothing like that today. I’m looking for a mixtape actually.”

Eddie: [clearly bored] “Around the corner to your left.”

Jonathan: “Cheers man.” [walking around the corner, shouting back to Eddie] “You got anything suitable for a party?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, annoyed he has to move from his stool in front of the small television. There weren’t usually many customers on a Wednesday night.

He walks over to the tape selection, he points to a few pre-made music tapes. Jonathan is looking at the wrong section, eyes red with a dumb grin on his face: clearly stoned.

Eddie: [amused] “Will these do?”

Jonathan: “Sure, I’ll take them all.”

Eddie walks him over to the till. Jonathan comically dumps all five cassettes onto the counter.

Eddie: [scanning the tapes] “What’s the occasion?”

Jonathan: “Steve’s having a gathering on Friday night and Robin said his Mom’s collection of Cyndi Lauper and Bruce Springsteen records wouldn’t suffice.” [a lightbulb goes off over his head] “Oh yeah! He told me to tell you to come along.”

Eddie: [sarcastically] “Thanks for remembering.”

Jonathan: [embarrassed, awkward] “Sorry man, mind is a bit, y’know.”

Eddie: [laughing] “Stoned?”

Jonathan: [laughing] “That shit you got me blew my head off.”

Eddie: [smiling] “So when is the party?”

Jonathan: [confused] “Friday? Did I not say that?”

Eddie: “I meant what time.”

Jonathan: “Oh! Come any time after 9.”

Eddie: (curiously) “Who is going?”

Jonathan: “Everyone.”

Eddie: [pressing the matter] “Everyone as in us lot or everyone as in everyone?”

Jonathan: [dumbly, oblivious] “Everyone as in… people.”

Eddie: [sarcastic] “Super informative, thanks.”

Jonathan: [oblivious] “No problem! See you then!” [Jonathan walks out the door]

Eddie: “Wait!” [the door closes behind Jonathan, Eddie is talking to himself] “I meant, is Nina going?” [Eddie sighs]

Eddie spent the rest of his shift distracted, not that there were many customers. He wondered if Nina would be there, surely she would be if Robin is going? His heart raced at the thought, excitement bubbling in his stomach. He finally had an excuse to talk to Nina. He smiled at the thought.

_______

CHAPTER TWO HERE ➡️

Ahhh I posted it!!!

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