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bettyfrommars · 23 days

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I'm on Fire: The Epilogue

biker!Eddie x artist!Reader

biker!Steve x Astrid (fem!OC)

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wc: 14.6k

18+ONLY as always, adult themes, allusions to smut, backyard union/wedding, violence, auto theft, hustling, fist fight, mention of blood, mention of guns and shooting, relationship issues, Eddie is a cat dad, tw: Charlene, alcohol consumption, healing, lots of love.

Summary: If you're one of my ride or dies who have read this far, you know what to expect, but I do mention pregnancy and kids more than a few times, for good reason. We get to check in with what the gang has been up to, and how the families have grown. A little bit of drama, of course, and Coffin Kings mayhem. For the sake of this story, the character Bones is meant to be Tom Hardy from the yet to be released movie The Bikeriders.

A/N: This is reallyyy more of another chapter more and an Epilogue, lmaoo. I love all of these characters so much that I keep wanting to spin off in different directions and write a bunch of niche stories; I can see myself living in this world for a long while. I know I say it all the time, but my IoF readers mean so much to me, and I really hope you enjoy this. Please see a second author's note at the end.

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Highway 22 had once been the only main road out of town, but since the freeway came to Hawkins in the 60’s, very few ever took the country road lined with cornfields and alfalfa crops. There were several homesteads scattered about, mostly farmers, and all of them spaced out by several acres; but for the home of the Whittiers—Bob and Helen—who just happened to live across the street from the place once owned by the Fergusons.

The first time they heard the rumble of motorcycles approaching, Helen screamed through the living room that it must be an airplane flying too low, about to crash into them. She nudged Bob awake from his nap in the recliner and then ran out onto the porch, wringing her hands.

What she found was a motorcycle gang, clad in leather and covered in tattoos, crawling twenty deep into the driveway of their newest neighbors.

It was rare for Eddie to invite the entire local Coffin Kings MC and a few of the Hells Belles over, but the ceremony for Steve and Astrid’s union was an exception. She was 8 months pregnant with the twins at the time, bursting at the seams, but Steve had this bug up his ass that he needed them to be official before the babies came, and Bones was happy to officiate.

Under an arbor in the neatly manicured lawn of your front yard, flanked in willow trees and cherry blossoms, Robin stood as Steve’s best man, and pretended like she’d lost the ring during the ceremony when he asked for it. The panic in his face made everyone in attendance snicker when she pulled it from the tiny pocket of her vest with a wink. Steve wore black suit pants with a collared white shirt, rolled up to the elbows, under his Coffin Kings leather. Astrid looked stunning in a hunter green, off-the-shoulder dress with a few pieces of simple, gold jewelry, and a baby’s breath flower crown in her hair.

Astrid didn’t need a ring, or any traditional symbols, and the material stuff meant nothing to her, but Steve insisted. He took the extra step of getting her name tattooed on his ring finger, which made her roll her eyes and fall more in love with him all at once.

You stood at Astrid’s side, making eyes at your boyfriend Eddie who was extremely handsome in his leather and a suit in the front row. You were still reeling at the idea that this was your life, as fear kept trying to creep in and tell you it was all a dream, or that something would happen at any second to take it all away at any moment.

You’d barely had the keys to the farmhouse for two months before the wedding, and so things were still stacked in boxes on the main floor, and the plumbing was a mess, but every morning, Eddie kissed you goodbye before work, and then you padded over in bare feet to the empty space with south facing windows that would soon be your studio.

Wayne gave Astrid away, and there were tears streaming down Steve’s cheeks. Once the official “I do’s” were said, everyone, including the bikers and their families in attendance, started to hoot and whistle for the kiss. Steve held her face in his hands, and it was deep and sweet and made the obnoxious howling from the crowd melt into a collective swoon before erupting in applause.

Eddie’s heart swelled with love, not only for his friends who were finally getting the happy ending they deserved, but for you, and the promise of the life you were building together. Neither one of you held the matrimonial traditions of society in high regard and didn’t need a piece of paper to prove that you were devoted to each other, but right then, watching you stand with Astrid, he thought about dropping to one knee and begging you to be his wife.

Neither one of you had a family history of marriage keeping people together, in fact, it had mostly only succeeded in fucking everything up. In his heart, it was till death do you part, and that was all that mattered. In fact, he planned on finding you in the afterlife as well.

Steve had Oliver on his shoulders while they cut the cake, but what everyone didn’t know was that Astrid was fighting some stomach cramping. She figured it was the two babies kicking from all of the excitement, but the second the music started for the reception, her water broke.

“This can’t be happening right now,” Steve was flabbergasted, holding up his wife so that she didn’t sink to the ground. “They’re not due for another month?”

“Oh it’s happening,” Astrid gushed, framing her belly with her hands. “They are coming.”

“Take my car,” Katie offered, digging around in her purse for her keys. The driveway was full of vehicles, pinning in Astrid’s truck, but Katie’s car was further out, near the highway.

“We’ll be right behind you,” Eddie shouted, reaching for your hand.

Dustin was the voice of reason, stepping in front of him while the others headed for the vehicle.

“She could be in labor for hours, and you’ve got guests,” Henderson reminded his friend. He was there with his wife Suzie and their daughter Stevie. “I say stay here, man. Robin can call you from the hospital with an update.”

For a second, it had slipped both of your minds that you even had guests; approximately 87 of them.

The big speakers Eddie had hooked up to a sound system were playing Hold onto Me by Cowboy Junkies, and the two of you turned to stare at each other, wondering what to do.

“Dustin’s right,” you looked around, eyes settling on your ex-coworker Jeff who was drinking red wine straight from the bottle. “I don’t want anyone to puke in our bedroom or something.”

Suzie handed you a glass of champagne, ring finger heavy with a Princess cut diamond. “I promise you, those babies probably won’t poke their heads out until morning.”

You just hoped nothing went wrong, since Astrid confided in you that labor had been notoriously hard on the women in her family; there had even been a few mothers who didn’t make it. What if they needed to do an emergency C-section? What if one of them started to come out sideways?

You were about to take a sip of the sweet bubbles when you saw Steve jogging back in your direction.

“Katie’s car is dead,” he huffed, headed for the back patio where his Harley was parked.

Craning your neck down the long row of cars, you saw Astrid sitting on the front bumper of the dark blue sedan with Oliver holding onto her arm while Robin and Katie appeared to be having an argument. You were sure it was nothing personal, but tensions were high.

“Hold tight, let me grab the jumper cables,” Eddie jogged alongside Steve, aiming for the garage.

“Nah, it’ll take too long, we need to get out of here,” Steve was throwing a leg over his bike and revving the engine before Eddie could offer another suggestion.

You ran up beside Eddie. “He’s driving her to the hospital on that?”

“It appears that way,” Eddie stepped back so that Steve could roll by the two of you, fishtailing through the lawn before jumping a rock bed and weaving between the vehicles to pick up Astrid.

A lot of pregnant women might have hesitated to go by motorcycle, but Astrid did not. She didn’t hesitate to get on behind him, knowing that the sooner they got to the hospital, the less likely things would go wrong. Making room for her ample stomach took a moment of adjusting, but she strapped her helmet on before tapping his shoulder to let him know she was ready.

“You’re insane!” Robin shouted at him, and then she covered her face in frustration.

Bones, Devlin, Van, Ratchet, and a few others went along as escorts, clearing the highway with their own bikes so that Steve could have the road.

Across the street, Helen was on her porch with a pair of binoculars. “Bob? Where are they taking that pregnant woman?”

Bob was in the living room with the TV on, and he pretended not to hear her.

“The music is loud enough,” she scoffed. “The whole thing better quiet down by 10 or I’m calling the police.”

If so, that wouldn’t be the first time she’d called the cops about her across-the-way neighbors. The first time was during the week they’d moved in, and a couple of the Kings came over to help unload furniture. Helen reported that there was a gang breaking into the Ferguson place to steal things.

“Let me get this straight,” Hopper twirled a pencil between two fingers while he spoke into the phone. “They’re stealing things by putting them back inside the house?”

He very politely talked her down from a ledge, and then drove by on the highway to give her a wave so that she felt safe.

The Velvet Hammer was closed the day of the wedding, as most of the employees were guests. But the next day, Shana opened up the bar at 10, harboring one of the worst hangovers of her adult life.

The shrill ringing of the phone made it feel like a buzzsaw was cutting through her skull, and Jackie leaned over the bar counter to snatch the receiver.

It was you, letting them know that Astrid had given birth to two healthy baby girls named Gracie and Rue early that morning, and that labor had been horrific, but their mother was on the mend.

Poor Steve. When the doctor came out and said there were “complications”, he nearly tore down the wall trying to get in there to his wife. The first baby, Rue, started to come out feet first, and he had this terrifying thought of the umbilical cord getting stuck around her neck or something, but once they got her turned around, the rest went smoothly. He did the best he could to coach her through the breathing techniques they’d learned in the Lamaze classes, but at one point, she politely, yet abruptly, asked him to shut up.

Not even three months later, Astrid was pregnant again.

They were certain that the procreation of the twins had been a fluke, a miracle; something that would only happen once in their lifetime.

But they’d been gravely mistaken.

They’d just transported the whole family to the ranch style home Astrid had inherited from her grandmother. Everyone had their own room, including another living area in the basement, and a vintage Landshark Airstream trailer in the back yard where Steve and Astrid slept when they needed alone time. It was the communal living, and the constant support from Robin and Katie, that kept them from mental collapse when they found out there was another baby on the way.

“What is wrong with you?” Eddie chuckled at Steve when he gave the two of you the news one morning over coffee at your kitchen table. “Couldn’t keep it in your pants for a few weeks?”

“I told you,” Steve shrugged. “I have a magic dick.”

At that, you and Eddie shared an affectionate eye roll. All joking aside, Steve was ecstatic about the news, bouncing on the balls of his feet everywhere he went at the idea of having a fourth child. Astrid, on the other hand, was trying not to have a panic attack as she breastfed two infants at once. If it happened to be another set of twins, she said she’d have to give one to you and Eddie.

You were testing paint swatches on the wall when Eddie snuck up from behind on the hardwood floor and put his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your hair. He had on a pair of his “holiest” jeans that were so ripped and worn, they were about to be shorts, along with his Slayer shirt that now had wide, cut out arm holes, exposing his ribs.

“Which one do you like more?” You asked, slipping your arms over his.

He hummed, kissing your earlobe. “They all look yellow to me.”

“Close, but one is Summer Sunset, one is Lemon Cream, and one is—-”

“What about black?” He asked in all seriousness. “Or gray?”

“Or we could just keep all of the wallpaper as it is,” you giggled at the tickle of his beard scruff on your neck.

The country rose wallpaper was lovely, but heavy pink floral themes in every room was a bit much for both of you. “You’re right, I love Lemon Yogurt or whatever.”

“I figured as much,” You turned to search his face. He’d been growing his bangs out, so they were just long enough to tuck behind his ears. “How does tofu curry sound for tonight?”

Your lips met, and you could taste that familiar mix of wintermint and Camel Lights that you’d come to love. He’d cut back to only a couple smokes a day, but he went through a pack of gum in an hour.

“Mhhmm tofu,” he closed his eyes dreamily. “Is there meat in that?”

Just before the twins turned one, you and Eddie had your first big fight.

Big enough that you threw some clothes in a bag and said you were going to stay with Katie and Robin right before you slammed the door so hard, a vase full of daisies he’d bought for you crashed to the ground and shattered.

It was over something so stupid, really. The way he left hair in the sink after he shaved bugged the shit out of you, and when you rolled as far away as you could from him in bed, he took it personally. You’d felt restless and out of your mind that week, and then you started your car to realize the gas tank was empty, even though he said he’d fill it up. You promised Eddie you’d have some quality time with him one night, but then Steve needed you at the Hammer and…all of these things started to pile up until the dam burst.

You sat in your car with the engine on for a while, swallowing back hot gasps, unable to pull the trigger and drive away. It wasn’t long before you felt his shadow, and a few soft knuckle taps on the window.

“Please don’t go,” he said.

“I don’t want to go,” you shivered and finally broke out in a sob, tears streaming down your face. “I love you so much.”

Next thing you knew, you were in his arms, and then you were back in the bed you shared, begging him to be so deep inside, until it made you see stars.

—-----

“An inch to the left,” Robin coached you from the ground as you were up on a ladder at the Velvet Hammer, hanging a piece of artwork along the brick red wall opposite the bar while Mother Love Bone played from the jukebox. “Ah, right there. Perfect.”

You’d brought a few paintings over weeks earlier, at Robin’s request, and they all sold almost immediately, so she begged you to bring in a few more. Still an employee at the Hammer, Steve offered you something more of an assistant manager position, but you were honest with him and confessed you didn’t want the extra responsibility, but that you’d help as much as you could. Plus, the tips you earned waitressing mostly surpassed what they could offer you as an assistant, and you were under the gun to get a collection of work together for the upcoming show in Marysville.

The same Marysville shows at the airplane hangar where you’d bumped into Eddie and Charlene that one night three years ago. The memory felt surreal to you, as if it were something that had happened in another lifetime.

The bar didn’t open for another hour, and Steve was hunched over a cup of coffee, popping energy pills he’d bought at the gas station.

“Get any sleep last night?” You asked, on your way to return the ladder to the storage room.

Steve grumbled something unintelligible, and his head bounced, nodding himself awake as if he’d been drifting off right where he sat.

“Mae has some serious pipes on her,” Robin quipped, speaking of Steve and Astrid’s newest baby girl, Mae, who was barely 16 weeks old. “The only one of us she seems to want to be around is Oliver.”

The twins were over 2 years old by then, and just as much of a handful as you’d imagine toddlers would be. Now with another baby, the family was running on empty. You and Eddie volunteered to babysit Rue and Gracie for a weekend after Mae was born, and even though you loved the girls dearly and cherished the time with them, you found yourselves counting down the minutes until their dad came to pick them up on the last day. “I’m glad we decided not to have kids. Steve’s brood is more than enough,” Eddie whispered to you at the window watching Steve drive off. He even considered getting “snipped” around the time Steve had the procedure, just as a precautionary measure.

“Why are you here so early anyway?” Robin asked around a yawn, adjusting the clasp on her denim overalls. “Go home and get some rest. I’ll stay until Shana gets here at noon.”

Steve yawned too, stretching his arms above his head as he stood. He wore a nice pair of blue denim jeans and a sage green pearl snap shirt that was buttoned wrong. “Can’t. Interviewing for a new apprentice over at the shop.”

Construction on the tattoo parlor next door took longer than anticipated. So long, that Eddie got frustrated enough to go ahead and do a bunch of the work himself. They’d just passed inspection the week before and were anxious to get some bodies in there working. They’d decided on the name Velvet Ink, and Wayne found some vintage barber chairs at auction for the reception area aesthetic Steve was looking for.

As of then, Wayne was fully in remission and getting his strength back. He’d even been well enough to take his 1948 Harley-Davidson Panhead out on a few Sunday cruises with the boys. Rue, one of the twins, took to him like glue, and Eddie remarked that he’d never seen the old man smile as big as he did when she called him “gan-pa”.

Taking the last big gulp of his coffee, Steve made his way out, letting in blinding beams of sunlight when he pushed open the front door of the Hammer. He paused for a moment to look at the padded leather stool that was there, the one he’d parked his butt on for many a night. Even though he helped to keep the peace if necessary, most of the past two years had been spent behind the scenes. A weird, secret part of him missed it; missed the simplicity of being a bouncer, versus being the owner of two businesses. Before he knew it, reminiscing on his old life brought his thoughts back to Charlene.

He was sure that she kept tabs on him, and he hoped she never decided to drop in and wreak havoc on his life again, but he was grateful for the fresh start she’d given him. He hoped that she was enjoying herself with Billy…or whoever the hell she was fucking those days.

—-----

It was Eddie’s night to make dinner, and you spotted him fussing in the kitchen through the side window of the farmhouse when you drove up that night. It looked like he touched something that was too hot and was snapping his hand in the air to cool it off.

You saw his motorcycle parked in the red barn, and wondered if he was planning to do some repairs on it. The Chevelle was no longer around, as he’d sold it to a collector up north so he could get a pickup that would be more useful to your new lives. You’d begged him not to, as you knew how hard he’d worked on it over the years with Wayne, but he couldn’t be swayed otherwise. .

Turns out, your man was extremely stubborn.

“Hey there, Dungeon Master,” you greeted him, shutting the back door to take your coat off. He’d been teaching you to play DnD now that he had a new head mechanic at the shop, giving him a bit more time to lean into his hobbies. Max and Lucas moved back to town, and Eddie was happy to teach Lucas how to operate the tow truck when he voiced that he needed a job.

In a black Hanes tank and jeans, your man was barefoot with his hair tied back. Looking down at the pot of sauce he was stirring, he smiled so big his dimples popped. “You really like calling me that, don’t you?”

Calling him Dungeon Master was a new kink unlocked for you.

You set your bag on one of the kitchen chairs and wrapped your arms around him from behind to sink your teeth into his shoulder. “I love finding out what a nerd you truly are. It’s hot.”

He lifted up a wooden spoon full of marinara, cupping his other hand underneath, and turned to blow on it before putting it to your lips.

“Smells yummy,” you said before taking a taste. He watched your mouth, but then eagerly found your eyes for the verdict.

“Mhmm baby it’s delicious.”

Satisfied, he went back to stirring. “Astrid gave me her recipe. I’ve never made it from scratch before,” he took a lick off the spoon for himself. “I think I used too much garlic.”

Another facet of Edward Munson you’d never realized before was that he was a natural in the kitchen, and found a lot of joy in cooking. One of the first things he made when you first moved in was chickpea patties for burgers, and whenever the two of you went into a bookstore and you found him browning the vegetarian cookbook section.

If you weren’t working at the Hammer, nights at home were very low key. There was the occasional concert or dinner on the town, but mostly nothing sounded better than curling up on the couch with him, or on the porch swing with a cocktail. Charlie was strictly an inside cat, but you found a stray living in the barn. All black with green eyes, a recent visit to the vet let you know that she was pregnant, and a litter of kittens was on the way, one of which had already been claimed by Oliver. So, you brought her inside and made her comfortable in the guest bedroom, until just yesterday when you found her curled up for a nap in Eddie’s lap.

He named her Scully because of his love of The X-Files, and you wondered if he’d be able to give the rest of the kittens up for adoption with the way he fawned over his new companion. He bought her a fancy collar with a bell, as well as catnip and special treats that she was forced to share with Charlie.

Later that night, sprawled on the couch with your head on his chest, you were having a hard time keeping your eyes open during an episode of Saturday Night Live when the phone in the kitchen rang. You almost jumped out of your skin, and both of the cats sprang from their perch on top of the couch.

“What the shit,” Eddie grumbled, gently sliding out from underneath you just as a second ring shattered the once peaceful evening.

“Who would be calling this late?” You said groggily, pulling the blanket up to your chin to turn and watch Eddie disappear down the hall.

“I don’t know, but this better not be Steve wanting to rant about one of his late night epiphanies.”

Phone calls at midnight were rarely ever a good thing. You sat straight, waiting to hear Eddie pick up the receiver. Had someone been hurt? Were the girls okay? Had something gone wrong at the Velvet Hammer? Maybe it was Bones needing Eddie for something to do with the Kings, and if so, you didn’t want him to answer it.

Eddie jerked the white, cordless phone to his ear, frowning. “Yeah? This is Eddie.”

You shifted to the edge of your seat, muting the TV so that you could hear him.

“How did you get this number?” He mumbled gruffly.

That made you get to your feet.

“...what makes you think I had anything to do with it?”

You took a few steps and froze.

You had a very bad feeling that you knew exactly who it was at the other end.

Eddie locked eyes with you when you came to pause at the stove.

“You have to be mistaken, there’s no way he was one of ours—-,” Eddie said to whoever it was, shaking his head.

You reached out and motioned for him to hand you the phone.

He swallowed, hesitating at first, but then you took it from him and put it to your ear.

“Charlene?” Your tone was patient. “What’s going on?”

—----

Earlier that evening at the Harrington residence, Astrid was breastfeeding Mae in the rocking chair while Katie helped the twins get dressed after their bath, and Robin washed dishes with Oliver. The TV was on, but no one was paying any attention to it, and Mae nestled against her mother like she was finally ready for sleep.

God, Astrid was tired.

Exhausted to the marrow of her bones and beyond.

Absolutely in love with her daughters and in awe of the beautiful family they’d created, but wishing she could have a few hours away from it all, just the same.

The twins were being loud, giggling as their Auntie Katie ushered them across the hall to their bedroom, and Astrid held her breath, worried they’d wake the baby up.

She let Robin know she was putting Mae in her crib, and then went to take the first shower she’d had in a while, feeling her stretch marks and all the ways her body had changed after carrying three babies. She never doubted Steve’s attraction to her, but he tattooed gorgeous women every day, not to mention the ones who waited tables in fishnet stockings and danced at the Hammer. She was sure a handful of those young beauties had a crush on their boss and would offer him comfort any time he wanted it.

She hated when her mind went there, when she could feel the walls of insecurity and depression closing in. She wanted to be nothing but grateful for every waking moment, but sometimes she was way too tired to think clearly. She needed to cry or scream or fuck… or something.

Between the kids, Steve’s schedule, and having zero energy at night, she couldn’t remember the last time the two of them had been intimate. A few kisses and touches in passing was really all it had been. Considering the insatiable hunger they’d had for each other over the years, it made her worry that he just wasn’t attracted to her anymore. But also, she knew that was bullshit—-but the whispers kept nagging at her.

On her way back down the hall to her bedroom, she could hear Oliver reading the girls a bedtime story and she paused to listen, emotions catching in her throat. Rue and Gracie loved him so much, and he was such a wonderful big brother, slipping into the role like he was born for it. Born to be a nurturing, caring soul just like his father. She often wondered if Ollie would grow up to be who Steve would’ve been, if he had been surrounded with love as a kid. Before Wayne took over his care, he hadn’t known much comfort or safety.

Steve came home smelling like a distillery, and when he tried to kiss her on his way in, she moved her head away.

“Where have you been?” She didn’t have to ask, it was obvious he’d tattooed late and stayed to have a few drinks. She missed the guy who would spend hours rubbing her belly and talking to the babies inside of it. It was the closeness she missed, not the sex itself.

Alarms went off in Steve when he caught the way she didn’t want to look at him, the way she shrugged away from his touch. “Hey, baby, I’m sorry. Jake paid extra to have his back piece finished tonight and so I—”

Robin and Katie had adjourned to the basement, and Astrid was folding laundry at the couch. “You just thought you’d booze it up with your buddies while I took care of our girls?”

He lowered his arms to hook his thumbs into his belt loops. “I thought about calling but I didn’t want to wake the—”

“Your daughters are all asleep. Gracie was asking for her daddy,” she pinned a towel to her check with her chin and folded the ends together.

Steve’s heart tightened, thinking of how he’d missed his baby girl asking about him. Thinking of how he was already letting her down. “I’m gonna sneak in and say goodnight,” he mumbled, heading that way.

“Please don’t,” Astrid snapped. “It took a long time to get them to calm down, but you’re rarely here at night so you wouldn’t know.”

Okay, something was definitely wrong. He’d fucked up, but he wasn’t exactly sure how. Astrid knew that he’d have some long nights, this was something they’d talked about. There had to be something else going on.

He sat down on the edge of the recliner, facing her, and laced his fingers together. “Is there anything…you want to talk about?”

Astrid scoffed, keeping her eyes on the TV. “Where do I even start?”

“I’m sorry if I—”

“Just say it, Steve,” she bit, stacking folded towels on top of each other. “Just say you’d rather get drunk with the dancers at the Velvet Hammer rather than come home and be with me.”

At that, he was dumbfounded. Gobsmacked, even.

“How could you…what? That’s crazy. Shit, you know other women don’t even exist for me, Astrid,” he kept trying to catch her gaze, but she’d avoid it. “No one has ever meant more to me than you. You're the love of my life.”

“I can tell you’re not attracted to me anymore, Steve. Just say it, I don’t float your boat.”

“Float my boat?” He almost chuckled at that, but immediately caught himself, realizing that it wasn’t a good time for humor.

There were tears welling in her eyes and Astrid bit her cheek in an effort to keep them at bay; her shoulders were shaking.

“Hey, listen, baby, c’mere,” he stood and reached for her hand. She let him have it, dropping the t-shirt she’d been holding. “Tell me you love me? Please?”

“Have you fucked anyone else since we’ve been together?’ She stared at him that time, eyes wet.

Steve didn’t hesitate. “Never even crossed my mind.”

She swallowed thickly, lowering her gaze.

“Wait,” Steve’s mind raced, realizing that it had probably been months since they’d had sex. “Have you? Fucked another dude?”

That one pissed her off, and it showed in the look she shot him. “When the hell would I have time for that, Steve? I barely have time to pee.”

He let go of her hand. “Oh, so, you’ve wanted to, with other people…you just don’t have time?”

“Steve, I’m going to punch you in the throat.”

He pulled her over so that she was in his lap, and she only fought him a little because then she was crying into his neck, overcome with exhaustion.

“Tell me,” he said softly, brushing her hair away to kiss her forehead. “Tell me you love me.”

“You know I do,” she sniffed, letting the tears roll hot down her cheeks, pulling her knees up so that she was snug in his lap.

“Say it,” he was pushing it now, tipping her chin up to find her mouth with his.

She mumbled her devotion as the tip of his tongue dragged along her bottom lip.

She clung to him as she cried it out for a minute, letting him hold her close and stoke her hair.

“Is she okay?” It was Oliver.

He’d snuck in from the other room and was watching the scene with a creased, worried brow.

“I’m fine, honey,” Astrid sat up, wiping her eyes. “It’s just been a long day.”

Oliver stared at his dad, almost defiantly. “I don’t like to see her sad.”

Steve saw his own tender perception mirrored back to him in his son's eyes. “I don’t like it either, come over here,” he motioned for Ollie to get close enough so he could put his arm around his son. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

“I didn’t want to miss you again,” Oliver admitted, sending another pang into Steve’s heart.

He’d gone from working all the time to…working even more, and something had to change. He hated being away from his family so often that he missed bedtime several days a week; they needed to hire more full-time help like Robin suggested, but Steve and Eddie were trying to pinch every penny.

After he talked to Oliver about his day, Steve realized he needed a goddamn smoke. Since the twins were born, he’d tried several times to cut back, but decided to quit cold turkey two days ago, and it wasn’t working. He needed to get some of those nicotine patches or something because being irritable with a throbbing head was no way to live in tandem with everything else on his plate.

Two hours later, after he’d tucked Ollie in and everyone else in the house was asleep, Steve made love to his wife.

He was about to try for a second round when his beeper on the nightstand started buzzing.

The alert was from Eddie.

Steve frowned at the number and excused himself to use the phone while Astrid pulled her robe on to go and check on Mae.

Come to find out, the past was indeed back to haunt him, yet again.

—--------

Hawkins was the last place Charlene ever expected to be on her birthday weekend. She’d said goodbye to that place forever, or so she thought, as there was nothing for her there. Her relationship with Billy lasted the better part of a year, but when she found out he’d been cheating on her with their neighbor, it didn’t even phase her. Normally, she would’ve been furious and exacted some elaborate revenge on the two, but at the time, she only shrugged and told him good luck. She was never in love with him, he’d been just another way to pass the time; a way to distract from her deep, soul-sucking loneliness.

Just before the separation from John, she’d purchased a storage unit for sentimental items she didn’t want to look at, but also didn’t have the heart to throw away. She’d considered letting someone from Storage Wars buy it just so they could be disappointed, but there were private letters and photos in there that she never wanted anyone to see, especially not strangers. So, she was back to clean it out and burn whatever she no longer wanted to hold on to.

She was in disguise, so to speak, with a new cropped brunette hairdo, and oversized sunglasses. The divorce and the bankruptcy of one of John’s businesses made headlines in the paper for weeks, as there was clearly not much to talk about in Hawkins, and for the first time since marrying into money, she didn't want to be recognized.

She promised she wouldn’t punish herself by driving along the street in front of the Velvet Hammer, but she did it anyway. She picked up her white 1970 Jaguar XKE from the secure garage it’d been stored in, and parked across the street to watch you carry a huge painting in while Robin held the door for you. The neon sign for Velvet Ink was clever, and she sat there for over an hour, until Steve finally stepped out of the main building. He squinted up at the daylight, shaking his fist like he wanted to punch the sun, and went next door to shake hands with a woman who was tattooed neck to foot, before unlocking the door to the parlor.

She had plenty of phone numbers for young men who would love to get paid to be her escort, but she was tired of paying people. She wanted someone to want to be with her, and be protective of her, without the money or the status, and she was realizing she didn’t know how to act normal when it came to earning someone’s genuine affection.

So, that night, she was alone at a swanky rooftop bar drinking a dirty martini and listening to someone playing a Christopher Cross instrumental on the piano.

Eating the last olive, she was thinking she’d make her way to her hotel when she felt a body sink down for a seat just one stool over. She smelled him first; a familiar mix of leather and nicotine, but this one had superior taste in cologne as she recognized a hint of cedar and honeysuckle from Dior’s Fahrenheit.

He ordered a beer and a shot of Jameson and then, to her surprise, he leaned over and pointed at her empty glass. “Can I buy you another?”

Her first instinct was to flat out ignore him or say, “no, I can buy my own drinks, thanks,” but then she turned to see who the voice belonged to, and her tongue got stuck on the roof of your mouth.

Maybe ten years her junior, he wore his jet-black hair slicked back, while his full lips and hazel eyes reminded her of someone. She could tell he was tall with broad shoulders, and a couple tattoos exposed where his shirt was pushed up to the elbows. A few chunky metal rings similar to the ones Eddie always wore, and from the insignias on his leather vest, she could see that he was also a member of the Coffin Kings MC.

Charlene notoriously had a thing for outlaws, especially pretty ones, and so she let him buy her that second drink, and then a third.

He said his name was Nick, and she was relieved to find out he appeared to have no clue who she was. She said her name was Rita, and after that third drink, she invited him back to her room to continue the party there.

Inviting a stranger back to her suite was not how she’d expected the evening to go, but the need to feel the weight of him on top of her overrode any common sense that might’ve tried to dissuade her. He was sexy and he made her laugh, and those were the only qualifications she needed at that moment.

After a few hours of getting to know each other in the biblical sense, and enjoying the mini bar, Charlene excused herself to the bathroom.

“I think I need a shower,” she hummed, lifting an eyebrow. “You want to join me?”

He was stretched out on the bed naked with his hands behind his head watching an episode rerun of ER.

“You go ahead, babe,” he seemed to nestle further into the pillows after that term of endearment, shooting her a wink. His Coffin Kings leather was neatly folded over the back of the nearby chair. “I’m gonna make us a couple more drinks.”

She left the bathroom door open a crack, just in case he changed his mind, but then she got fully absorbed in how heavenly the steaming hot water felt. She thought she heard him come into the bathroom at one point, so she peeled the curtain back a few inches, but only found her reflection in the mirror.

By the time she turned the water off, the steam from the hot shower was as thick as soup, and she realized that at one point, he’d shut the door all the way for whatever reason. Perhaps for her modesty? Him being such a gentleman felt almost too good to be true.

“You could order some food from the late-night menu if you’re hungry,” she said from behind the closed door while brushing her hair out. “Pie sounds good for some reason.”

Either he wasn’t responding, or he did, and she just couldn’t hear him over the audience laughter on the TV. She rubbed in some expensive body butter and then checked herself in the mirror a few times while putting the fluffy, white hotel robe on.

“But if you need to go home I’d understand, as long as I can have one more—-”

She opened the door as she spoke, but then stopped dead in her tracks.

Nick was no longer sprawled on the bed, and all of his clothes were gone, even his kutte.

Nothing wrong with that, maybe he went to get ice or to take a phone call.

The suite was large, with a separate sitting room, and so she checked around for a bit before realizing he had, in fact, vanished.

Anxiety rose in her chest but she pushed it down, taking a seat on the edge of the bed to reach for her lipstick on the nightstand.

But the lipstick was in her purse and there was no purse to be found, just a few condom wrappers and tiny, empty bottles of booze.

She’d taken her purse into the bathroom with her, she was sure of it.

After a few sweeps of the place, mumbling to herself in disbelief and horror, Charlene realized that her purse, her money, and her car keys were all gone.

She’d been hustled by a member of the Coffin Kings, and the truth of it made her scream into the palms of her hands.

She sprinted for the window to yank the curtains back. It was the middle of the night, and they were on one of the highest floors, and she couldn’t see the Jaguar from there even with binoculars.

She didn’t even bother to change out of her robe or put shoes on as she bolted from the room. She was pissed, sure, but there were sobs catching in her throat, and that old loneliness dropped like a lead weight, threatening to bring her to her knees.

By the time she rushed breathless into the lobby, Nick and her car were long gone.

—------

For whatever reason, Charlene asked Eddie specifically not to tell Steve; she didn’t want to face him under such lame circumstances. But the two men made an agreement a while back that one would tell the other if they ever heard from her, just to keep miscommunication to a minimum when dealing with someone who had a track record for manipulation.

“She thinks one of you put this Nick guy up to it,” you said, standing at the door watching Eddie get dressed. “As payback or something.”

Eddie frowned, adjusting the strap on his watch. “If I felt like I needed to get back at Charlene, I sure as hell wouldn’t trust someone else with the task. Plus, I didn’t even know she was back in town.”

“Did Steve know?”

The last person you ever wanted to feel bad for was the rich white woman who tried to ruin your life, but still, you didn’t like the idea of any woman getting hustled and used in that way.

Okay, maybe Charlene deserved some payback, but you hated to think that someone from the Coffin Kings was out there making a habit of taking advantage of women in such a spineless way.

Eddie was rummaging through the top dresser drawer. “We don’t even have a member named Nick, so that’s another whole fucking problem.”

“Another charter, maybe?” You followed him into the kitchen.

“Maybe,” he put his leather jacket on while Scully wound herself around his legs. He bent down to pet her and spoke to her in a baby voice before finishing his thought. “Or maybe it’s something worse.”

You didn’t have to ask to know that impersonating a member of the MC was a big problem.

Under any other circumstances, Eddie would wait until the next day to deal with whatever happened to Charlene, but the chop shops worked fast, and if they didn’t hurry, they’d never get her car back.

Why did Eddie even care? He asked himself that on the way to meet Steve at the hotel, rumbling along in his midnight blue, square box Chevy. She could’ve just called the cops and let them sort it out. But Eddie knew that, aside from Hopper, the police force was a joke, and there would be days of paperwork and questioning before anything attempted to get solved. By then, whoever the guy was would be long gone, and the Jaguar on a cargo ship to its next owner.

Steve was already in the parking lot, leaning against his bike with a smoke in his mouth when Eddie rolled up.

“How the hell did you get here so fast?” He asked, slamming the door of his truck.

“Left a message for Miser down at the chop shop,” Steve exhaled, ignoring his friend’s question. “He said he’ll keep an eye out for the car.”

Eddie had already sucked down his ration of cigarettes for the day, so he shoved another piece of gum in his mouth as they made their way to her floor.

There was a crystal chandelier in the lobby and mirrored elevators that gave Eddie the creeps.

“You think it’s some sort of trap?” Steve had his hands in his pockets, leaning in the corner while they traveled up with a Beach Boys instrumental played from a speaker in the ceiling. “Like she’s trying to trick us or something?”

“That’s what we’re here to find out,” Eddie muttered. “I’m not gonna mention it to Bones and the rest until we know what we’re dealing with.”

Still in her robe, Charlene would’ve touched up her makeup to look presentable, but her Estee Lauder compact, and mascara were both in the stolen purse. Also, she was too upset to care. She’d called to cancel the credit cards in her wallet, but there was a bunch of cash that she’d surely never see again. She’d have to contact her bank in the morning, but until then, she was basically squatting in that expensive hotel room.

Eddie did not look happy to see her when she opened the door, but she’d expected as much, tucking her bob of hair behind her ears.

What she hadn’t expected, and what made her breath catch, was that Steve rolled in right behind him, scowling. He had what appeared to be baby spit up on the front of his Santa Cruz skate shirt and dark indents under his eyes.

Steve didn’t acknowledge her, he just breezed into the room and started looking around like he was a seasoned detective at the scene of a murder.

Charlene gave Eddie a look, whispering, “I asked you not to tell him?”

All Eddie could do was shrug, as he was still weary of her intentions, and for good reason.

Steve couldn’t help it, ever since the birth of his daughters, every injustice done to a woman in the world was something that could potentially happen to his girls, and he wasn’t having it.

“What did he look like?” Eddie asked the question just as Steve spun on his heel at the other side of the bed.

Hands on hips, she gave the description as best she could, and it sounded like half the guys in the club.

“He said his name was Nick?” Steve picked up the remote to turn the TV up a notch. Unsolved Mysteries was on and he was suddenly interested, forever distracted. “Do you think he was telling the truth?”

Charlene scoffed. “I had no reason to think he was lying? I didn’t ask to check his driver’s license.”

“Maybe you should from now on,” Steve kept his eyes on the screen, sitting down at the end of the bed. “The way you go through men like a meat grinder.”

“Look who’s talking, Romeo,” she spit back.

Charlene turned to complain to Eddie, but instead he held his hand up, palm out to silence her. “Are you sure he was with the Coffin Kings?”

Charlene tightened the sash on her robe. “Okay, you two can feel however you want about me, but you know I’m nothing if not observant.”

The two were silent in agreement.

“His leather vest looked just like the ones you have on now. Black, tooled leather with the reaper holding a coffin on the back. Embroidered insignias on the front as well.”

“Did it have a nickname or rank?” Eddie stuffed a third piece of wintermint gum in his mouth while Steve lit another smoke. The smell of the nicotine made Eddie’s hand twitch and his muscles ache.

Charlene shook her head after a moment of contemplation. “He didn’t have a name on his cut, but Hawkins was the charter, I’m positive.”

Both men shared a look before Steve got to his feet. “So you had your car stolen, what’s the big deal? Don’t you have like a hundred of them?”

Charlene shot him a look, reminding herself not to be a bitch. “That car belonged to my dad. It was special. He’s the only person in this world who ever gave a shit about me.” She went to the bedside table to grab a half empty travel size bottle of Jameson and drank the rest. “That’s why I kept it in storage. I couldn't take it with me, and I didn’t want to sell it.”

Eddie scratched the stubble on his chin, thinking about how he couldn’t wait to go home to crawl in bed with you and the cats.

“How much is it worth?” Steve asked out of curiosity.

Charlene shrugged, leaning against the wall to cross her feet at the ankles. “Dunno what it would go for today. Easily 300K.”

Eddie almost choked on his wad of gum thinking of what he could do with that much dough.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “You better hope this Nicky is stupid and greedy enough to sell it locally, or we might be shit out of luck.”

—-----

You felt Eddie slink in under the covers to spoon you early in the morning before dawn, but you were too tired to look at the clock or ask him how it went. Charlie was curled up at your feet and Scully took her pregnant belly over to nestle behind Eddie’s knees and purr.

He wasn’t in bed with you at quarter to 8 when you finally rose from sleep, and for a second, you thought maybe you’d only dreamed about him coming home, until you saw the note he’d left on the nightstand.

Had to run again

Tell you everything later

Left the coffee on

Love you infinity, Eddie

The way he always signed his notes made you chuckle, as if anyone else would be leaving notes for you at the house. You folded it up and tucked it into the shoebox in the closet where you stashed all of his notes to you.

After a half hour of letting yourself rejoin the living on a much-needed day off, you went up to the studio to stare at the two paintings you were working on, but your reverie was shattered when the phone rang.

Breathless, you answered to find that it was Robin. The shrill wail of a screaming child sounded from somewhere in the background.

“Is Steve there at your place?” She sounded rightfully flustered.

“No, um,” you looked around the kitchen as if maybe he was there, you just didn’t know it. “Eddie was here but then he left again. They might be together?”

A thoughtful silence and then, “Steve never came home last night. We assumed he stayed at your place.”

You were shaking your head but then realized Steve could have slept in the living room and you wouldn’t have been the wiser. You walked through the house to see if there was a blanket on the couch, but it was as tidy as you’d left it before bed.

“Are you busy right now?” Robin continued, making the executive decision to worry about Steve’s whereabouts later.

That was a loaded question, and even though you had plenty to do, you knew that was Robin’s way of saying she needed help. “Not…right this minute.”

“I hate to ask,” it was true, she really did hate to ask for help, but sometimes it was necessary. “Could you come over here for an hour or so? Katie has teacher conferences, I have to go to the Hammer, and as you know, Steve is MIA…”

“Sure,” Mae let out another earth-cracking wail that made you fear for your life. “Be there in ten minutes.”

—------

Miser’s underground chop shop operated behind one of the oldest buildings in Hawkins; solid brick, using a mom-and-pop place to get an oil change as a front during the day, but at night, stolen cars were stripped for parts and/or sold on the black market. The building was huge, and had once been a busy hotel and saloon, as it was near the train station.

Miser himself was short and muscular with a gray, handlebar mustache, a rodeo buckle from his old bareback days, and a cowboy hat. He’d been a pillar of the community for decades, and one of the last few anyone would suspect of illegal activity.

That morning, Eddie, Steve, Van, and Devlin rolled into the alley, passed the No Trespassing signs, and settled at the locked garage door. Miser’s Old Lady was one of the head Hells Belles named Jackal, and she came out of the back door with him. A long ponytail of silver hair, she lit a smoke and gave the guys a tip of her chin.

“That car you said to look out for? The white Jaguar?”

Eddie and Steve still had their sunglasses on, nodding once in unison his question.

“The guy showed up an hour ago,” Jackal inclined her head, whispering. “He’s been here before. He’s with another crew that likes to scam older women and take their shit.”

Steve and Eddie exchanged a look with the other two members, palms itching to get their hands on him.

“I asked him about the Kings flash,” Jackal continued. “He said he was from another charter, but he didn’t know who Bones was.”

Bones, President of the Coffin Kings Hawkins charter, was one of the first original 9 members of the MC when they first banded in the 60’s. Every CK member from Indiana to California knew exactly who Bones was.

So, this guy Nick just made it to the top of their shit list.

“This might get messy,” Eddie said to Miser.

“We got you,” Jackal confirmed, waving for them to follow her.

At the far end of the building, a door opened, and a guy with slick black hair, wearing a Coffin Kings kutte stepped out.

“Shit, that’s him—” Miser hissed, reaching for the Ruger at his hip.

But it was too late, the guy saw them and bolted.

Steve cursed, letting out after him on foot alongside Jackal, while Eddie and the others pursued on their bikes.

Around the next building, there was a car waiting for Nick—a plain white sedan—and even after Steve summoned his high school athlete days, he still couldn’t catch up. Nick jumped in the passenger seat and the vehicle peeled out, throwing dust up into Steve’s face as his arms windmilled to a halt.

“Fuck,” Steve took his sunglasses off and threw them to the gravel, nostrils flaring as he watched the vehicle flee.

Miser sent a gunshot, aiming for the front tire, but missed as the car picked up speed.

Eddie and the others continued on in hot pursuit, and Jackal motioned for Steve to get into her truck that was nearby: a lifted navy Bronco with monster tires. Steve had to grip onto the side bar to heft himself up into it, and then she gunned it, skidding out of the parking lot.

The sedan led them on a wild chase over the railroad tracks, skirting the center of town to avoid the cops. Eddie and Van made their way to the side of the vehicle and Van cracked the driver’s side window with the hilt of his knife, making them swerve. The car dove into the nearby alfalfa field, going where they knew the motorcycles couldn’t follow.

But, Jackal’s Bronco was made for the mud.

“Hold on—” she warned Steve.

“I’m holding,” Steve said through gritted teeth, eyes narrowed on the target in front of them, his fist tight on the grab handle above his head.

The sedan almost got its back tire stuck in the ditch, but the Bronco bounced right through the muck like it was a paved road, tractor tread crawling along like a tank.

While Steve and Jackal took a diagonal course through farmland, Eddie and the rest took the next side road, aiming to cut them off before they could hit the highway.

—-----

You were on your way to Robin’s when you caught sight of a white car being chased through a field by what looked like a monster truck from one of rallies at the coliseum.

“What…the—-”

It was far enough away that you didn’t feel in danger, but you slowed down to see if you could understand what was happening.

But then three riders on motorcycles were headed in your direction at full tilt, so you pulled off to the side of the road to get out of their way, wondering if you knew any of them—-

“Eddie?” You squinted, wanting to be mistaken.

Indeed that was your boyfriend leading the pack.

He saw you as they passed at lightning speed and picked up his hand in a wave.

You sat there for a while, watching the three of them disappear in your rearview mirror, clearly angling to beat whoever was driving their car through the crop rows.

After a heavy sigh, you dropped your shoulders and kept on in the direction you were headed.

Three years ago, you would’ve freaked out and followed them. But at that point in the relationship, such a scene was par for the course, and you knew it was best to stay out of it.

—----

Up ahead was a sharp turn in the bend, and Devlin sped up to angle the sedan away from the street. His approach clipped the bumper of the car, making it lose control, forcing it back into the ditch, but it also made his own bike go flying. Thankfully he was thrown free before the hunk of metal landed on his leg, skidding across the gravel.

Jackal rode her tire up onto the back of the sedan, pinning it there as the two men inside fled.

Steve was on the ground so fast, he could barely find his feet. His legs felt like that of a roadrunner in one of the cartoons, flying in circles.

Eddie snagged the driver, throwing him into the dirt with a grunt, followed with a punch of his fist. The driver was gangly, with a prison spider web tat on his elbow and dishwater blonde hair styled in a mullet.

Nick climbed up onto the main road and bolted, until Jackal aimed and shot a bullet so close to his head, the heat grazed his ear.

That made him stutter to a halt, just in time for Steve to tackle him at the waist, putting him down hard on the pavement. Van took Eddie’s place, putting his knee into the driver’s back, pinning him there while the rest went to deal with the Coffin Kings imposter.

No words were exchanged for a while, just Nick sputtering in pain while Eddie rolled him over to check his pockets.

He found a wad of bills and waved it in Nick’s bloody face.

“C’mon man, that’s like 2 grand—-” Nick protested through a busted lip before Steve punched him again.

“Yeah, it’s real nice,” Eddie flashed a grin, standing to tuck the money in the top pocket of his leather. “Take that thing off of him.”

Steve and Devlin got the leather vest off, making sure they hurt him in the process, and then Devlin put his boot on the guys belly to keep him there.

Eddie inspected the insignia’s, noticing there were no rank or name placards, and the material wasn’t even real leather.

Eddie gripped it in his fist. “Where the fuck did you get this?”

“I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear,” Nick wiggled, grimacing at the weight of Devlin’s foot. “Just let me go, okay?”

Steve bent down to lap the guys face with the back of his hand. “He asked you a question.”

Nick looked like he’d rather vomit than tell the truth, but then Jackal stepped up and pointed her gun at him.

“Okay okay!” He squirmed. “M-my mom made it for me, alright? For my birthday a few weeks ago.”

None of them had been expecting that, but they all made eye contact and snickered in disbelief; Eddie’s grin nearly split his face open right before his expression turned dark again.

“Tell your mom to come see us sometime, we’ll put her to work,” he joked. “But you? You’re fucking done, do you understand—?”

Steve pulled Nick to his feet by his shirt and got in his face, jaw tense. “I should kill you for what you did to her.”

Eddie gave a sideway look, not expecting Steve to still have so much heat under his protectiveness for that woman. Maybe that’s part of what having daughters did to a man.

“B-b-but you’re not going to, right?” Nick blubbered. “We’re cool?”

“We’re far from cool,” Steve pulled him close to whisper in his ear. “I’ll be coming for you.”

And then Steve shoved him so that he tripped over his feet backwards and fell again.

“You better run, cowboy,” Jackal shot a bullet into the ground at his feet, and he let out a high-pitched scream before taking off down the road on foot.

“I see either of you again, you’re dead. Understand?” Eddie shouted after both of them as Van let go of his death grip on the driver.

The two were too scared to look back; too busy scurrying away as fast along the corn field to care about how stupid they looked.

“Hey, War Machine,” Van brushed blonde hair away from his beard stubble. “Was that your girl we passed back there?”

Eddie checked over his shoulder in the direction of the farmhouse, wondering where you’d been headed, exhaling a long breath. “Yeah, it was.”

—-----

You only saw Robin in passing once you arrived at the house and parked behind the Airstream. Oliver was at school, so it would be the three young girls with you and Astrid.

The twins were on the floor in the living room, coloring, and you couldn’t get over how much Gracie looked like Steve. Since they were fraternal, Rue resembled her sibling, but was also very different. She had Astrid’s wild hair and a face that didn’t quite resemble either of their parents; Astrid said she was the spitting image of their grandmother, Evelyn.

Astrid came around the corner cradling Mae in her arms with her mane of black hair back in a clip, and her eyes were puffy.

“Please take her,” she groaned, handing over Mae into your arms with a sigh of relief. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Mae had a pacifier in her mouth, but you could tell she was smiling up at you, lids droopy. You began that automatic movement of rocking her in your arms. You’d never been around many babies in your life, but the soothing gesture seemed to be ingrained in your dna.

Astrid flopped heavily into the kitchen chair with a groan. “Did Robin tell you Steve never came home last night?”

“She did,” you bent to kiss Mae’s soft forehead. “Eddie came home late and left early, so Steve might’ve been with him, and I just didn’t know it.”

“It’s not like Steve to not leave a note or let me know somehow,” she started picking at an invisible thread on her peach dress that buttoned down the front. “Do you think he did anything with Charlene?”

You were shocked at the question, but your friend looked like she hadn’t slept in days and perhaps wasn’t processing thoughts at peak capacity.

“Oh god no, Astrid,” Mae squirmed, kicking her strong little legs a few times in her Big Bird onesie, and you sat down in the chair next to Astrid. “Steve would never, and I think you know that. He’d cut his own hand off before he did anything as stupid as cheat on you.”

“Maybe,” she swallowed hard like she was trying to push down a sob. “We just…can’t seem to connect like we used to, and I’m just…just…”

She covered her face with both hands and cursed into her palms.

“Hey,” you leaned forward with a free arm to rub soothing circles on her back. “I’ll stay out here with the girls if you want to take a nap or something? Slam some beers in the bathroom, whatever.”

Astrid chuckled a bit at that, sliding her hands down her face and into her lap. “Maybe I do need some sleep.”

From where you sat, you could see the twins on the floor in the next room with papers and crayons scattered about. Just then, you noticed that Rue was headed in your direction, curls bouncing around her face.

There was a tiny frown on her face, like she’d been concentrating, and she handed each of you a piece of lined notebook paper that had been ripped in half.

Apparently, she’d made some drawings, but before you could say anything, she was off again, determined to get back to her work.

“Thank you Rue, I love you,” you called after her.

“One is from meeee!” Gracie shouted.

“I love you too, Gracie,” you laughed, staring fondly down at the mess of colorful scribbles.

“They want to be like their big brother so bad,” Astrid had tears in her eyes, but for a different reason this time; she was so proud of her little family, so grateful to be a mother.

When you held the paper up to the light, you noticed that there was some writing on the back of it, so you turned it over.

My hot wife —

Slept in trailer, didn’t want to wake the girls

Can’t wait to kiss you again

I love you

“Um, I think you should see this—” you passed the note to Astrid, and enjoyed watching the relief spread across her face as she read it.

—------

A few hours later, Steve rolled up to Munson’s Garage in the Jaguar, after giving it a test run around the hills to enjoy how smooth it took corners. He found Charlene already waiting there on a bench in the shade, talking with Wayne who wore a pair of light blue coveralls.

Wayne got to his feet while Steve pulled the sportscar up to the closest parking spot.

“Took you long enough,” Uncle barked at him, crossing his arms. “Cab dropped her off an hour ago.”

He’d left the top down, so his hair was a mess, and he pushed his sunglasses up, eyeing the two.

“No, it’s fine,” Charlene shrugged, looking relaxed. “I had good company.” She had on a teal, halter top pant suit with matching heels, and she stuck out like a sore thumb.

Steve put one booted foot up on the bench seat next to her. “Yeahm, so, that guy Nick, he wasn’t—”

“I know,” Charlene reluctantly held her hand out to take the keys he was offering. “Eddie told me. I’d like to say I’ve learned my lesson, but probably not.”

“No woman deserves that,” Wayne said, giving Steve a pointed look. “I hope you boys took care of it.”

“We did,” Steve met his gaze, letting him know without words that the dude wouldn’t be hanging around Hawkins if he had a lick of sense.

Wayne said a polite goodbye to Charlene before heading back to the shop.

“You never mentioned how charming your uncle is,” she said, running a hand through her hair.

“Stay away from Wayne,” Steve grumbled, sitting down across from her.

“I didn’t mean—” she got flustered and then straightened. “He reminds me of my dad, that’s all I meant. Nothing nefarious.”

“Never can tell with you,” he muttered, fumbling to rip the wrapper off a soft pack of Camels with his teeth. He told himself he wouldn’t buy another pack, but he lied.

There was silence while Steve lit his smoke, all but for the sound of faint rock music and an electric drill from one of the garages.

“So,” she chanced. “I hear you have a big family now.”

“Yeah, what about ‘em?” He scowled at her after a hearty inhale.

Charlene lifted both palms out as a sign of surrender. “Forget it, I was going to say I’m happy for you.”

Steve snorted. “You expect me to believe that, after all the shit you pulled, that you actually give a shit about anyone?”

She’d expected that, and she knew she deserved it.

“I give a shit about you,” she muttered. “I would’ve done anything for you.”

The sincerity confused him but then he pushed his shoulders back. “I’ve got everything I ever wanted, and I won’t let anyone fuck with that. ‘Specially not you.”

“Understood,” she said, rubbing her magenta lips together with a nod.

“I want you to be happy, though,” he softened his tone. “I cared about you once, and that means I always will, no matter how much I wish that weren’t true. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“That’s probably the kindest thing anyone has ever said to me,” she scoffed a self-deprecating laugh.

“That sucks,” Steve exhaled through his nostrils. “You’ve got a good heart, Charlene. It’s just too bad you don’t know how to use it.”

A car pulled into the compound and at first, Steve didn’t pay much attention until he saw over his shoulder that it was you.

With Astrid and the girls.

—-----

Eddie turned the radio up in the garage when Come and Get It by Judas Priest came on, and then wiped his hands on a red rag as he made his way to the office. Although the finances at the Hammer and the garage were handled separately, he’d hired one accountant he trusted to take care of it all, and she’d just left a stack of paperwork for him to sign.

On the wall behind the desk was a framed photo of the two of you together, hugging in the front doorway of the farmhouse the first day you’d moved in. The flashback made his mouth twitch in a smile, as he had so many fond memories of those first couple weeks, back when there was nothing but a mattress on the floor and several leaks in the roof he had to control with various buckets. It was just the two of you, making love and whispering about lifetimes of devotion.

He had a secret place in the metal file cabinet where he kept all of the notes you’d left in his lunch over the months, and he had this tugging need to look through them again just before he caught sight of your car coming through the open gate and into the compound. Wayne was gone, but there on the picnic table sat Charlene and Steve, and before he could think too much about it, his feet were moving, wrenching the door open to make his way across the lot.

Steve jumped up when he saw you angling for a parking spot nearby. Oh shit, Eddie realized you had Astrid and the girls with you, too. The fact that they’d helped Charlene was no secret, but still, it made him feel uneasy with everyone about to converge in one spot.

—------

“Please tell me that is not Charlene,” Astrid whispered, eyeing the profile of the woman sitting across from her husband.

“I’m afraid that is exactly who it is,” you muttered, suddenly feeling like maybe it wasn’t a great idea to bring the girls by to visit daddy at work. It had been a while, and you assumed she’d be gone by then.

But it was too late now. You recognized the Jaguar parked nearby; it was the same one she brought in for Eddie to fix that first day you met.

All three girls were safely in car seats in the back, and when Astrid went to step out, Steve was right there, blocking her exit.

Funny enough, Eddie did the same, but on your side. He was there so fast, you accidentally hit his leg with the door.

“What a sight for sore eyes,” he grinned, pulling you flush to him while tipping your chin up for a kiss.

With lips still brushing together, you mumbled: “What the hell is she still doing here?”

And then through gritted teeth, Eddie responded: “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Steve went to grab for Astrid right away, hands at her hips, and she let him, but her attention was over his shoulder.

“To what do I owe this pleasure, gorgeous?” He murmured, noticing that she’d put on some mascara and deep burgundy lipstick after not wearing makeup for months.

Steve only shuffled back a few steps to allow her to shut the door, but then he continued to act as a barrier to keep her from going any further. He bent down to knock on the back window, waving to the twins as Mae slept in the car seat between them. Gracie shouted “daddy!” and held her hand out as if he could grab it through the glass.

Steve glanced sideways at Eddie. “So, should we all go get pizza or something? At that one place with the bouncy balls that the girls like? My treat. If you head over there, we’ll meet you—-”

Eddie was close to telling his friend to shut the hell up, as it felt like his babbling was only making things worse.

Astrid kissed his cheek. “Please move out of my way, Steven.”

—----

Charlene stood up and took hold of the keys to head for the Jaguar. She could tell by the looks you and Astrid were sharing that she’d managed to make things awkward, and more than anything, she felt embarrassed.

But, she took a step away from the picnic bench just in time to see Steve’s twin daughters come bouncing out of the vehicle in matching Oshkosh overalls and her chest tightened—-oh god, one of them was the spitting image of Steve.

And why were the two tiny girls headed that way on their little wobbly legs as if they knew her?

“Slow down, Rue!” Astrid called after them as Steve fumbled at getting the car seat out that had Mae inside.

“She’s, um, she was just leaving,” Steve grunted, trying to move the apparatus out without waking the baby. Astrid was already rushing to catch up with the girls, making each of them hold one of her hands.

For some reason, Charlene was frozen. Locking eyes with Gracie, knowing they were Steve’s hazel eyes, accumulated with the rest of her regrets like a punch to the gut.

Her deep dark secret was that she’d always wanted children of her own, but John refused.

You and Eddie followed them over, albeit reluctantly. If there were ever some serious conversation that needed to be had with Charlene, it certainly wouldn’t be done with the kids there, and so you weren’t at all sure what could possibly unfold.

Although Charlene and Astrid had spent a very tense few moments together the night Craig was shot, they’d never shared more than a few words with each other. Last night, when Steve got the page from Eddie, she’d known it was about Charlene before he even said a thing; she could feel her arriving in her bones like some might feel the impending threat of cold weather.

Steve hurried to get between the two women and set the baby carrier on the picnic table. Gracie was on her tiptoes with her arms up, begging him to put her on his shoulders, and so he did, and she took hold of his hair like a saddle horn.

“Glad we could meet under better circumstances,” Astrid said to Charlene, sincerely.

Eddie put his arm around your shoulder and you sank into him, wrapping both arms around his middle. You wished you could hide under his blue and black flannel so no one could see you.

“You have a really beautiful family,” was all Charlene could think to say as she caught sight of Steve’s third daughter.

“Thank you,” Astrid replied, maintaining steady eye contact.

There were a few strained silences, and you could feel Eddie wanting to fill them, but suddenly he burst out with:

“Did you want to come by the Hammer and see what we’ve done with the place?” He chirped, rubbing your arm almost violently.

Your whole body tensed at that, and you could see that it was the same physical response for Steve.

“No, that’s…I’m good,” Charlene removed the Gucci sunglasses from the top of her head and put them over her eyes. “There are several cargo crates of my things being sent to Hawaii right now, and I have a flight to catch. But I’m sure you’ve done well with it.”

But it was Rue who broke the next silence.

She’d wandered a few yards over to the fence and back, carrying two bright yellow dandelions pinched between her fingers.

She was right there, blocking Charlene’s path to her car, arm outstretched to offer her one.

“For me?” Charlene was genuinely confused, and not accustomed to the wholesome kindness often displayed by children.

Rue just nodded, tucking the other one behind her ear so that the bloom was at her cheek.

The rest of you exchanged a few baffled looks—all but Astrid, because she knew what was happening. She knew then that her daughter carried the same gift she’d been born with; the gift of intuitive sight. Even at her young age, Rue could read people and their intentions, and she knew that Charlene was no longer a threat to them. She knew that everyone in that parking lot deserved healing and forgiveness.

“Like this?” Charlene put the flower in her hair the same way with tentative fingers, and Rue nodded again, moving around the woman to walk back over to her family.

Astrid scooped Rue up into her arms.

Charlene took one last look over at the group as she drove out of the compound, seeing the way you all smiled at each other, continuing on with conversation as if she’d never been there. You were all visibly relieved to no longer be sharing space with her, but Rue had been able to see her with fresh eyes, without all of the pain and suffering she’d inflicted on others and on herself. There’d been no judgment or weariness in that child’s eyes; just curiosity and love. It gave her a bit of hope that maybe she could…start over. Maybe she’d fall in love again with a guy who wasn’t Steve, maybe she’d adopt a child of her own one day, or maybe…she’d get a dog and call it a day.

—------

A few days later, you couldn’t find Scully, and the two of you fell into panic mode.

“Did you let her out?” Eddie snapped. “You know we need to keep her inside this close to the due date.”

Eddie was a mess. Granted, you were upset too, but he was ready to tear the whole house apart looking for her, and then some. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself seeing how devoted he was to this once stray cat. Some nights he even made room between the two of you so that Scully could sleep in the middle.

But finally, a soft mewing from the closet alerted you to the fact that she’d tucked herself away in the dark to have her babies.

“Honey, come look,” you whispered down the hall to him.

There she was, snuggled back in the corner in a box of old sweatshirts, nursing four tiny baby kittens. She had one more a half hour later to make the final count five. Two black, one gray, one black and white, and one orange striper.

“Daddy must’ve been an orange guy, hey my darling?” He hummed a conversation to Scully as you picked them all up to put down some fresh blankets, making sure she had food and water nearby.

“What should we name them?” Eddie asked as you both sat in the doorway, watching them nuzzle together for sleep.

“I think we should let Oliver name the orange little girl, since I know that’s the one he’ll pick,” you whispered, to which Eddie agreed. “Maybe I’ll name the gray one Keanu,” you said, mostly joking, but Eddie didn’t seem bothered. As soon as it was possible, Scully would be back at the vet to get fixed, but you were grateful to have this experience with him.

“Can I name the black ones Dio and Vecna?” He asked, hopefully.

“What kind of a name is Vecna?” You wrinkled your nose. “Should we call him Vicky for short?”

“The black and white looks like a Leia,” he continued, eyes sparkling.

“Leia is a good name,” you hummed, putting your cheek on his shoulder.

You moved Scully and her box of babies into your bedroom so that she would be closer if she needed anything, but then in the middle of the night, she moved the kittens back to the same spot in the guest bedroom closet, so then that is where you let her stay.

Later that night, you were in the kitchen cleaning up before bed, when you heard Eddie singing a song under his breath in the next room:

“Hey little girl is your daddy home, did he go and leave you all alone…”

You thought you recognized it as you scrubbed a dish, eyes darting to the window to watch two motorcycles zoom by on the dark highway in the distance.

“I got a bad desire…”

On the refrigerator behind you, secured by magnets, were photo snapshots of the two of you with Steve and Astrid, Robin and Katie, Gracie, Rue and one of Mae when she was first born. There was one of Wayne twenty years ago, standing with Taz and War Machine as two gangly teenagers. There was a long strip from a photo booth at the fair with you, Eddie, and Oliver all making faces for the camera.

“Tell me now, baby, is he good to you

Can he do to you the things that I do? I can take you higher…”

He’d been folding the blanket on the couch and blowing out candles, but then he was on his way to you as the mumbled lyrics got clearer:

“Sometimes it's like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull

And cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my skull…”

You finished what you were doing, but then you stayed still, feeling him come up behind.

“At night, I wake up with the sheets soaking wet

And a freight train running through the middle of my head…”

You leaned back, letting yourself be caged in his embrace; his head dipping to kiss your neck. You thought about that day on the side of the road when he picked you up in the tow truck, and how it didn’t feel like you were meeting for the first time but more, coming back together after a lifetime apart.

His lips ghosted the shell of your ear. “Only you can cool my desire…”

After that first kiss years ago, you knew there would never be another option for you; Eddie Munson was endgame. Having tasted true love once in your life, you felt like you could die happy.

But not until you rode the highway of life for a long, long time. Even at the end, you’d still be holding on tight.

“...Oh oh oh I’m on Fire…”

—------

The Epilogue of an Epilogue

“Yo, Steve. Package for you.”

It was Thumper, working the door at the Velvet Hammer for what promised to be a wild Friday night. Max ended up showing interest in the Assistant Manager position, after deciding that long haul trucking was taking a toll on her need to start a family, and Robin couldn’t hire her fast enough. Jeff also came on as a part-time bartender, leaving you pleasantly surprised and wondering what other skill sets he had up his sleeve.

Steve had just come through the door to ask Shana for a cup of coffee when the crumpled brown piece of mail flew at his chest. He caught it, but took the time to throw Thumper a dirty look.

“Ease up, boss,” the burly biker grumbled through a huge grin. “Since when do you have a penpal in Hawaii?”

He stopped in his tracks at that, afraid to look down. Afraid to open it, even. Steve’s newest ink—-Mae’s name on the back of his hand—-glistened from the recent layer of Aquaphor.

He asked for his coffee with a pound of sugar and sat at the end of the bar, frowning.

The return address was a P.O. box in Honolulu without a name, but he didn’t even have to wonder. He was sure he could smell the Chanel through the packaging.

Inside was a ring of keys.

Car keys, clearly, but it took him a second to understand what they belonged to and why they looked so familiar in his hand.

There was also a note:

These are the keys to the Jaguar. It’s parked in a secure garage at the airport, instructions also enclosed.

Every time I drive it, I get myself in trouble. Hopefully you will have better luck, or maybe Rue can have it when she gets older.

The dandelion was a fair trade.

—----

I have so much to say, so much love to give to you all, and I hope you can feel it through the words. I'm so deeply grateful for each one of you and this experience. Whether you have left comments, reblogs, thoughtful asks, or edits, I remember you and you are special to me. I would give anything to meet up at the Velvet Hammer for cocktails (and/or tea, of course) but here are a few in particular I'd like to thank:

Huge thank you to @cryptidcurio for being the initial inspiration for this fic in the first place, and for always feeding me the best ideas. Some of the most popular scenes in this series are from her. Our biker Eddie and biker Steve talks seem to have somehow gotten us through the past hellish year, I love you. I'm so grateful for @texasblues and all of our chats about Steve, Astrid, Wayne, and the girls. Truly, the only reason Astrid and Steve are so perfect is because of Jennie and our brainstorming. We chat a lot about what Rue, Gracie, and Mae will be like when they are older, and hopefully we'll have a few blurbs about that someday. Also, I highly recommend her Steve & Astrid writings HERE My beautiful friend @dandelionnfluff decided to do a bind of I'm on Fire for their personal use and I am still choked up about how much work they put in and how gorgeous it is. You can see their amazing work here: book bind

-------

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 @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

#I'm on Fire #IoF #biker!Eddie #biker!Steve #biker Eddie Munson #biker Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson fanfiction #biker au #Robin Buckley #Steve Harrington

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𝐛𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡, chapter 1

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ! 3.5k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ! familial issues, underage drinking, tension (between literally every LOL), blair/serena hating each other, you/blair and you/serena being besties lol, a lotta winfrey lore

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ! ahhhh im super excited, as always please lmk your thoughts !!

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PRESENT DAY.

Hey, Upper East Siders, Gossip Girl here, and I have the most surprising news ever. Y/N Winfrey spotted back in town after she disappeared for almost 6 months. But where has she been all this time? Sources tell me she's been living it up in the City of Love, Paris. Oh la la! But what brings our darling Y/N back to the Big Apple after all this time? Could it be a scandalous affair, a family feud, or perhaps a fashionable rendezvous with the elite of Parisian society?

Rumors are swirling as to the reason behind Y/N's sudden return. Some say she's back to reclaim her rightful place among Manhattan's elite, while others speculate that she's returned to stir up trouble in the already turbulent waters of Upper East Side.

But what of Y/N's infamous entourage? Will her loyal subjects, Nate, Isabell, Kati and Blair, welcome her back with open arms, or will there be whispers of betrayal and backstabbing among the ranks of Manhattan's elite?

Will she pick up right where she left off, ruling the social scene with her signature grace? Or has her time away changed her in ways we can't even imagine? So grab your designer handbags and your most scandalous gossip, Upper East Siders, because things are about to heat up in the city that never sleeps. XOXO, Gossip Girl.

As the sleek black limousine rolled to a stop in front of the towering building, the door swung open with a soft whoosh, revealing the figure of Y/N Winfrey stepping out into the cool Manhattan air.

With a flick of your hair, you cast a cool gaze towards your old home, a grand penthouse that stood as a testament to the wealth and power of the Winfrey family. The familiar sight of the elegant facade stirred a flurry of emotions within you, memories both bitter and sweet flooding your mind as you took in your old home.

You were too focused on the old home to hear your mother come up from behind you, putting a hand on her shoulder as she examined the home as well. She hadn't been there since the divorce, which was almost a decade ago.

"I know you're nervous, Y/N. But don't let any of them get to you, okay?" Her voice rang in your ears as you nodded slowly. You weren't sure who she was referring to; your father's new family or your old friends. Or maybe, all of the above.

"Okay," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I won't."

With a reassuring squeeze of your mother's hand, you gathered your resolve and stepped forward, ready to face whatever awaited you within the walls of your old home.

Your new family met you with open arms and it felt strange to be back home, the same home you'd left; except, everything inside had changed. There were no more pictures of you anywhere, they were all replaced with wedding photos or pictures of your new stepsister, Charlene. It made your stomach twist in disgust, you couldn't believe your father had a brand-new, shiny family. The perfect family he'd prayed for, you were almost happy for him. Almost.

"So how was Paris, Y/N? Did you like it?" Josie's voice brought you back to real life. You turned your gaze up to meet hers, a tight smile on your lips. You were sat in the living room of the penthouse, alongside your mother and stepmother.

"It was... fun," you reply carefully, your tone neutral. You couldn't bring yourself to admit just how much you missed Paris, how it had felt more like home than this place ever did. Instead, you plastered on a facade of indifference, hoping to shield yourself. "It's too bad that we left."

Your mother let out a light laugh as she glanced back at you. "We'll be back as soon as we can. I just missed New York so much and I'm so happy to be back." What she didn't mention was that the only reason she was back was for her business, she wanted to open more shops in Manhattan.

"Yeah, it's nice to be back," you replied, forcing a smile. Despite your mother's attempt to lighten the mood, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of your stomach.

Josie, your stepmother, chimed in, her voice cheerful. "I'm glad to hear that. I'm sure you'll adjust to being back in no time. Especially with Eleanor's party tonight, you'll be attending that... right?"

"Yes, yes she will." Your mother answered for you. You knew that your mother wanted to reintroduce you back into Manhattan society but you didn't even have time to adjust back into New York time, you were jetlagged.

You didn't want to even think about why you even left in the first place. When you decided to leave, you promised that when you'd come back, you'd leave it in the past. You'd leave him in the past.

Nate. The mere thought of him sent a shiver down your spine, a reminder of the heartache you had endured before leaving for Paris. You had promised yourself that you would never allow him back into your life, that you would move on and leave the past where it belonged.

Lost in your thoughts, you barely noticed as your mother and stepmother continued to discuss the details of the upcoming event, their voices fading into the background as your mind wandered back to memories you had long tried to forget.

──౨ৎ──

"And if they ask you about the business, what do you say?" Your mother quizzed you as she put on lipgloss, looking into the mirror of the hallway of the building that Blair's penthouse resided in.

You tore your gaze away from your own reflection to meet your mother's eyes, a sense of unease creeping into your stomach. "I'll say that things are going well," you replied, your tone carefully neutral. "That we're expanding and looking for new opportunities in Manhattan."

Your mother nodded in approval, her lips curving into a satisfied smile. "Good," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of pride. "Just remember to keep it vague. We're a family, and we need to show the world that we're strong, no matter what."

You forced a smile, though the weight of your mother's words hung heavy in the air. The facade of unity was fragile, and you knew that beneath the surface, tensions simmered, threatening to boil over at any moment.

Your mother finally finished her lip gloss, focusing now solely on you. "Remember, confidence is key. You're representing not just yourself, but our entire family."

"Got it." You answered, the words coming out as more of a reassurance to yourself than to her.

Her words echoed in your mind as you followed her towards Blair's penthouse, the anticipation of Eleanor's party looming ever closer. The elevator dinged and the door opened, revealing the glamorous penthouse of the Waldorf's. Your mother's hand found yours as she squeezed it, reassuring as you two walked back into Manhattan's elite society.

"Priscilla Winfrey! You made it!"

Your mother's head turned to meet Eleanor, a charming smile enveloping her lips as she walked toward her.

"Oh, and is that Y/N?" Eleanor gasped as she studied you, taking every little detail in. "You look absolutely stunning, sweetheart. You're starting to look more and more like your mother every passing day."

"Thank you, Ms. Waldorf," you replied graciously, offering her a polite smile. Despite the compliment, you couldn't shake the sense of unease that gnawed at you.

Eleanor's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before she turned her attention back to your mother, engaging her in conversation. Left momentarily alone, you scanned the room, taking in the familiar faces that surrounded you.

Your eyes landed on your old friend group, all seated on the couch. A sense of nostalgia hit you as you examined their faces, all the nights you'd spent partying with them playing in your head. Isabell, Kati and Chuck sat as they spoke, talking about God knows what.

You couldn't help but wonder where Blair was, it was her party and she wasn't with her friends. And of course, Nate.

Chuck's eyes finally met yours, a wide smirk on his lips as his eyes fell on your body before back to your eyes. But before you could go up to them, you heard an excited squeal behind you.

"Y/N!"

You recognize that voice anywhere; it was Blair. She enveloped you in a tight hug, her excitement palpable as she pulled back to study your face. "Oh my God, it's been too long." she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling but there was something you couldn't quite place. "You look amazing, as always."

You were nervous, it had been so long since you'd seen your old best friend. Your stomach twisted in guilt as you gave her a tight smile, her hands squeezing yours. "Thank you, Blair. You looked stunning but I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that."

Blair's smile faltered for just a moment before she regained her composure, a flash of something unreadable passing through her eyes. "Thank you, Y/N," she replied, her tone warm but tinged with an undercurrent of tension. "I'm just glad you're here. Like, really here."

You and Blair had been close since you were kids, your families being close since the beginning of time, basically. Your mothers were best friends in school and now, you are too. Before you left Paris, you told Blair and Serena and made sure to give them calls whenever you could. But soon, Serena stopped answering your calls and according to Blair, she just disappeared to a boarding school in Connecticut.

Blair still didn't know the real reason you fled to Paris and that gulit chipped at you everyday, even more now as you saw her lips curve into a rare genuine smile.

"I've missed you, Blair," you replied, your voice tinged with sincerity. "It's good to be back."

"It's good to have you back, Y/N." Blair gave your hand a squeeze before she spoke again. "Excuse me for two seconds, I have to go to the bathroom."

"Of course, Blair," you replied, offering her a reassuring smile as she excused herself.

You let out a sigh before turning your focus back to your mom, who was now in a conversation with a person you weren't sure you knew the name of. You knew you couldn't bother her right now, she was networking.

With a resigned sigh, you resigned yourself to the role of observer, content to blend into the background as your mother worked her magic in the world of Manhattan's elite. It wasn't the first time you had found yourself sidelined in favor of your mother's professional pursuits, and you knew it wouldn't be the last.

You couldn't blame her, though. After the divorce, her career had become more than just a family business—it had become her lifeline, it was the only thing she still had.

You remembered the days that followed your parents' separation, the way your mother had thrown herself into her work with a fervor bordering on obsession. It had been her way of coping, her way of escaping the pain and heartache that had threatened to consume her. You didn't blame her, her high school sweetheart had left her for a woman almost half her age, closer in age with her daughter than her.

You found the drinks table quickly, grabbing a glass of champagne and taking a sip of it. As you lifted the glass to your lips, the cool and crisp taste of the champagne washed over your tongue, distracting you from the emotions swirling within you. With a sigh of contentment, you leaned against the table, letting the hum of conversation and laughter wash over you.

As you scanned the room, your eyes fell on a familiar brunette. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized who it was; the person you'd been wanting to escape since you left for Paris. His bright blue eyes met yours and you felt a rush of conflicting emotions flood through you. It was Nate, your once-close friend, the one person who had been a constant presence in your life before everything changed.

His gaze held surprise as he caught sight of you across the room, and for a moment, you found yourself unable to tear your eyes away from him. You were frozen, unable to move as he approached you.

You couldn't escape him now.

Nate's lips curved into a smile as he took you in, with all your glory. "Y/N, you're back. It's, uh... good to see you."

"Yeah, you too." You responded, giving him a short answer.

Nate's smile faltered slightly at your response, a flicker of disappointment flashing across his features before he quickly masked it. "So, uh... how have you been?" he asked, his tone cautious as though treading on uncertain ground.

"I've been good. And you?"

"Me too. I'm happy you're back." He looked down at the glass of champagne as he let out a chuckle. "I'm glad you still have that taste of champagne, some things just never change."

You couldn't help but smile at Nate's attempt to lighten the mood, the tension between you easing ever so slightly. "Yeah, some things never change," you agreed, a hint of warmth creeping into your voice.

"Nate!" Blair's voice echoed as she came up to the two of you, grabbing his arm. "You don't mind if I steal him for a second, Y/N."

You and Nate exchanged looks before you tore your eyes from him and back to Blair, a forced smile playing on your lips. "Of course not, he's all yours." In more ways than one, you thought to yourself as the two walked away, leaving you alone once again.

Before you could relish in being alone again, your mother's voice rang behind you. "Y/N! Blair! Look who's back."

You turned to meet the blonde you'd once called your best friend. Serena. Her gaze held excitement as she found yours, you began walking toward and engulfing her in a big embrace.

You didn't know why she left for Connecticut but you knew she would tell you and Blair eventually. You, Serena and Blair had always been close and tight-knit, no matter the circumstances.

Serena pulled out of the hug and put her hands on your shoulders as she studied your face, a grin on her face. "You're glowing, Y/N."

"Says you. How did you get even more blonde since I've seen you?" You teased as she let out a laugh.

Serena's laughter echoed through the hallway, a sound that filled you with a sense of warmth and familiarity. Despite the time that had passed since you had last seen each other, it felt as though no time had passed at all.

"I've been spending way too much time in the sun," Serena admitted with a playful grin, her blue eyes sparkling. "But enough about me, tell me everything. How was Paris? Did you meet any cute French boys?"

You chuckled at Serena's teasing. "Paris was amazing," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you recalled your time. "And as for French boys, well, let's just say they definitely live up to the hype."

Serena laughed, nudging you playfully with her elbow. "I knew it!"

"Serena?"

You both turned to face Blair, a unreadable expression on her face before she quickly masked it with excitement. She pulled her into a tight hug but you could feel the tension, what the hell did you miss when you were Paris?

"So good to see you, how are you?" Blair pulled out of the hug as she looked in between you.

"Oh, look! The girls are back together, my heart is gonna burst." Eleanor gasped as she observed the scene in front of her, oblivious to the tension in the room. "Are you staying for dinner, I'll set a place next to Y/N and Blair!"

"Yeah, um, there's somewhere I have to go." Serena looked in between you, a guilty expression on her face.

"You're leaving?" Blair's voice sounded hurt as she looked back at Serena.

"Yeah... I don't feel well, I-I just wanted to come and say hi. I'll see you guys at school tomorrow." Serena responded as she slowly began to back up, before she turned away.

Blair's expression dropped immediately back to a bitter expression, looking back to you. "At least you're staying. Who needs Serena anyway?" She whispered the last part as she turned away and began walking away.

You began following behind her, "What did I miss?"

"What do you mean?"

You caught up to Blair and you two began walking toward the couch. "I mean... with you and S?"

"Serena." She corrected. "And nothing except all you know. She left without saying a word, to none of us." Blair sounded bitter but you knew deep down, she was just hurt.

"Well, maybe something happened."

"With what?" Chuck joined the conversation as Blair glared at him. You could feel Chuck's gaze on your dress as he smirked.

"Mind your business, Chuck." Blair spoke as she rolled her eyes.

You caught Chuck's gaze, his smirk igniting a spark of annoyance within you. "Chuck, it's not polite to stare," you retorted, your tone sharp as you shot him a pointed look. Some things never do change, you thought.

Chuck's smirk widened at your words, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Forgive me, I couldn't help but admire the view," he replied smoothly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You did some growing up in Paris, I could tell." His eyes were focused on your dress as you scoffed.

"Paris does wonders for a person," you replied dryly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered.

──౨ৎ──

"I'm pregnant! Surprise, Y/N!" Josie shouted as your father pulled her in closer, your jaw slowly falling. She's... what? Your fork clattered against the plate, the sound echoing in the tense silence that followed Josie's announcement. Pregnant? The word echoed in your mind, disbelief and shock washing over you in waves.

Your head was pounding, you got home around 12:30 last night because the party lasted a little longer than expected. You were just trying to enjoy your breakfast before school, but then they drop this bombshell on you.

"Wh-what?" You finally managed to stammer out, your eyes wide with disbelief as you looked at Josie. "How does, uh, Charlene feel about it?"

Charlene was Josie's daughter from her previous relationship, she was about two years younger than you and... well, you couldn't stand her.

"You can ask her yourself!" Josie's gaze moved behind you and you turned to face Charlene. Speak of the devil.

Charlene's lips curved into a smile, though there was a flicker of something else in her eyes. "Super excited. I mean, I can't wait to be an older sister."

There was awkward silence before you got up from the dining table, clearing your throat. "Well... I have to get ready for school. This was really nice."

You got up and began walking up the stairs, ignoring their stares. You wanted to stay with your mom but she was staying at The Palace and your father insisted you stayed with them and his shiny new family.

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cinemastyles-blog · 11 months

Text

Private Affair [h.s] | 1.

Warnings: there really isn’t for this chapter, other than flirting while married, possible sexual innuendos

Word count: 5.4k

You roll over and extend your arm out, only to find that you're the only one in bed.

You let out a sigh, remembering that you and your husband, Alex, are probably still dealing with the aftermath of last nights argument.

Alex came home, slightly drunk and let's just say that drunk minds speak sober thoughts, and he was screaming his.

You kick the blankets off and swing your legs over the edge as you sit up.

You grab your sweater and put it on as you make your way to the kitchen, "Morning." You mumble lowly to Alex, who is leaning against the counter with a an open magazine.

It's silent as you get your coffee made up. It's almost that awkward silence where you don't know what to do or say to break it.

"I'm sorry." He says with a sigh and you look over at him, "Why are you sorry?"

He sets his cup down and turns towards you, "I shouldn't have yelled at you like that last night. I came home after having a few beers in the parking lot with the guys after work and the boss just gave us all a pay cut and I just had a moment and I'm sorry."

You purse your lips together and nod, "I appreciate your apology. I just asked you for one thing and you exploded on me, I didn't know what to say."

He reaches out and gently drags his hand up your back, "I understand. It's okay, but do you?"

You nod, "I do, just please.. don't ever drink and drive or yell at me like that again." You glance over at him.

He nods, "I promise." He looks down at his watch, "Oh shit. I gotta go." He steps towards you and presses his lips to your temple.

"It's nine already?" You look at the stove clock and raise your eyebrows.

"Hey." He leans in and smiles, "They'll be stupid not to hire you." You smile and nod, pursing your lips for him to kiss you.

"I'm banking on having a celebration dinner tonight.." he walks over to grab his bag, "I love you."

You smile, "I love you, have a good day, sweetie." He smiles and nods, "You too."

You smile and wave as he leaves your shared apartment, leaving you alone for your worries to eat you alive.

You applied for a position at Alluring Mag, which is one of your all time favorite magazine companies.

They're all about pleasure and what is considered 'in season' for bedroom wear and so much other stuff, and you and every other woman that that you know, eat it up every month it comes out.

You walk over and plop down on the couch, sighing as you stare at your phone's dark screen as it lays beside you.

"No, I'm not going to stress." You tell yourself and turn the tv on. You click through the options and glance back over at your phone.

You let out a sigh and get up, starting to do things to keep yourself from going crazy.

You start to clean. Wiping down the counter tops, sweeping the floors, laundry. You try to vacuum, but you were afraid you wouldn't hear your phone ring, even though it was in your hand.

You look at the clock and frown as it's only eleven thirty.

Just before you really start to drive yourself insane, you decide to go for a shower and as you walk in to turn the shower on,

You hear your ringtone start to play.

You sprint out of the bathroom and go to your phone, picking it up to see that it's a number that isn't saved.

You take a deep breath before answering with a calm, hopeful, "Hello?"

"Is y/n y/l/n there?"

"This is she." You nod to yourself, "How can I help?"

"Well y/n. My name is Charlene and I am calling from Alluring Mag in regards to getting you in for an interview."

Your mouth opens and you close your eyes, trying your best to stay cool, "Yes, yes of course. What days are available?"

She hums and you can hear pages being flipped around in the back, "One moment, please."

"Of course." You put the phone on speaker and mute yourself, "Yes! Yes! Yes! Fuck yes!" You cheer to yourself before taking a calming breathe, "Okay."

You unmute yourself just as she starts talking, "So, y/n, you are coming in for a different position. My boss, aka, the company's CEO, went through and picked out some applicants who he thought would be a good fit for a specific position." She pauses, "His assistant."

Your lips part and you honestly don't know what to say, "Um. Yes. That's perfectly fine."

"Great. So he wants to meet with all three of you as soon as possible, so if you can meet to-"

"Tomorrow is great." You cut her off, "Oh, I'm so sorry." You lay a hand on your forehead as the embarrassment settles in.

She chuckles, "It's okay, dear. Is two in the afternoon good for you?"

"Two is good for me, yes. Thank you so much." You bite your lip and smile.

"Not a problem, see you tomorrow." She hangs up and you stand there in shock, "Oh my god."

You quickly dial your husbands number, "Pick up. Pick up." You whisper as you listen to each ring.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Alex. Hey. I just got off the phone with Alluring Mag and they want me to come in tomorrow for an interview."

"I told you!" He says, "That's great, y/n!"

"To potentially be the CEO's assistant." You bite your lip, waiting for him to speak.

"The CEO? baby. That's.. that's freakin' amazing!" He sighs, "I'm so proud of you. I knew we were having that dinner tonight."

"You definitely called it, that's for sure." You pace back and fourth, unable to contain your excitement, "I'm so excited."

"You deserve this, baby. You will do amazing tomorrow and I will remind you of that until you get there." You can tell Alex is smiling on the other end of the phone.

"I might call up Sage, see what she's doing. I need to get an outfit, so maybe we'll go shopping." You put him on speaker and text her,

You: Are you busy? I got some news! Need to go shopping today!!

"Alright, honey. That's fine. I'll be home probably around four but take your time."

You hear talking in the back and it doesn't sound good, "I'll let you go. I love you, see you later."

"I love you." Alex says before hanging up.

You see if Sage texted you back,

Sage: I'll be ready in twenty.

── •✧• ──

You beep the car horn as you pull into the driveway, putting it in park while you wait.

Soon enough, you see Sage run down her porch steps and towards your car. She gets in and looks at you as the door shuts, "What's happening?"

"Alluring Mag called and I have an interview to potentially be the CEO's assistant." You bite your lip and raise your eyebrows.

Sage's mouth drops and her head tilts down, "Shut. Up." She covers her mouth, "No way!"

"I know!" You shrug, "I can't believe it either."

"Y/n, have you ever seen what the CEO looks like?" She tilts her head sideways, "He is such a fine human being." She smirks as she pulls her phone up from her lap.

"You know." You shake your head, "As obsessed as I am with that magazine, I don't think I know what their CEO looks like, I do know his name is Harry, though."

"Harry. Styles." She says as she turns her phone towards you.

You look at the screen and your lips part slightly, "Oh shit." You take her phone and zoom in on the picture, "You're right."

You start to feel a tingling sensation between your legs and you tilt your head, weirdly enough, you don't feel bad at the thought of another man making your pussy throb just by looking at them.

"He's fucking hot. You might be the one that gets close and personal with that." Sage points and shakes her head, "Fuck, I am so jealous of you."

"Maybe this is a bad idea." You admit to Sage, "I just got turned on just by looking at him, Jade." You admit this to her because there is no shame between you guys, no judgment.

She sighs, "It's normal to look and feel attracted. It'll only be bad if you act upon those thoughts."

You hand her phone back and nod, "You are right., I just have to remind myself that I'm not the girl that sleeps with their boss to get higher up in the company, you work for it yourself."

"You go girl." Your friend laughs, "No you're right, now let's go get you some business clothing. I'm thinking tight skirt, open blouse, and a blazer."

You start driving to the mall and shake your head, "You are a bad influence, encouraging this behavior."

But it didn't feel so bad at the time.

── •✧• ──

Later on that day, you arrive back home and haul your bags inside.

"Hey." You greet Alex who's sitting on the couch, "How was work?" You walk in and close the door, setting your bags down on the island.

He stands up and walks over, raising his eyebrows as he sees your bags, "It was good, what's all this?" He waves his finger back and fourth at the bags and you smile, "I may have went a little overboard, but something tells me I needed all of these outfits."

He tilts his head and nods, "I'm only agreeing because we've been on the ball today about going with our gut feeling, so.. okay."

He walks around and leans in, pulling the bags open to look inside.

As he's inspecting your purchases, you walk over and pour yourself a glass of wine, "If not I can return them."

He looks at you and nods, "Mm, where do you want to go for dinner, baby?" He leans against the counter and watches as you being the glass up to your lips.

You take a sip and tilt your head, smiling slightly, "Italian? We can go to Nonna's?"

He smiles and nods, "Anything for you. Now go get ready."

You grab your glass and walk to Alex, giving him a kiss before heading to your room to get around.

You walk out a little while later and do a little spin to show off your outfit, "How do I look?"

His eyes move up and down your body, "You look amazing." He walks over to you, "Shall we head to dinner?"

You nod, "Let's."

You and Alex head to dinner, talking about the possible jobs you might have to do for Harry and that feeling between your legs returns.

"I just hope that this job gets a major pay raise." You laugh slightly, but in all reality, you would work for Harry for absolutely free, and you know there isn't a doubt about it.

"I'm sure, the CEO? Babe. Come on, if there isn't, then that's some absolute bullshit." Alex goes on but you cut him off, continuing to talk about Harry is only making you feel worse.

"Oh there's a parking spot right there!" You point out quickly changing the subject.

"Oh, yeah. Hey thanks." He whips the car in, putting it in park and looking over at you as he takes his seatbelt off.

You unbuckle and look over at him as you slowly let the seatbelt retract back, "What?"

He shakes his head, "Nothing, you're just pretty, is all."

You can feel the blush rise on your cheeks and you smile, "Let's go, I'm starving." You open the door and get out, walking around to meet him behind the car.

Your hand takes his and your fingers interlock as you walk with him into Nonna's.

── •✧• ──

"Thank you for dinner, Alex. This truly was the best way I can celebrate getting a job in a company I've dreamed of working at."

He smiles and opens the car door for you, "You deserved it." He waits for you to get in the seat and buckle up before he leans in and kisses you, "I love you."

You smile, "I love you."

He shuts the car door and walks around to get in. You rest your head back and smile as he lays his hand on your thigh, "Home?"

"Home." You respond with a sigh, "I am ready to go to bed before my anxiety about tomorrow kicks in and keeps me up all night."

He laughs and squeezes your leg, "You know what you're doing babe. You probably have a good resume if they picked you to be an option for this."

"I think she said there's two other people besides me, so." You look over at him and he looks at you, "See, out probably tons of other applicants you got picked."

You nod as you remember what the lady on the phone said, "Yeah, the lady on the phone said that he picked them out himself, so he must be very specific if there's only three because like you said, there is probably tons of other applicants."

"That's what I'm saying, babe. You got this. You deserve this."

You smile and lay your hand on his, looking out the window as you think about Harry. You're anxious to be around him because you're very awkward when you're nervous to meet someone.

Especially someone you find attractive in any way.

You finally make it home and you let out a yawn. You're kind of over exaggerating how tired you are, but you really just want to go to bed so you find out stuff about Harry.

Your husband yawns, "Good lord, y/n. Stop that."

You laugh, "Sorry." You get out of the car and walk up to the door, "I think I'm going to go for a shower."

Alex nods and kicks the door open, "Alright, I'm probably going to change and watch some tv for a little."

You nod and walk to your room, take off those heels that are starting to make your feet hurt. You grab clothes and head to the bathroom.

You shut the door and turn the shower on, grabbing your phone and going to google as the water heats up.

You type in the search bar HARRY STYLES CEO ALLURING MAGAZINE and your breathe hitches as his picture pops up.

You click on images and the pictures of Harry that show up make your stomach fall out of your ass.

There is just something about Harry that you can't describe, but you don't even want to think about it, it doesn't feel right, but at the same time.

It feels so good.

You notice that the bathroom has filled with steam so you set you phone down and finally get in and complete your full shower routine.

You wrap a towel around your body and open the door right away because you were going to pass out from how hot it was in there.

You grab your phone and dirty clothes to take them to the bedroom, but you stop when you notice Alex asleep on the couch.

You shake your head and walk in to your bedroom, drying off and slipping on your pajamas before you walk out to Alex. You tap him on the shoulder and lean down, "Hey, come to bed."

He mumbles and shifts around and you repeat what you just did, "Hey, come to bed." His eyes flutter open and he looks up at you, "M'sorry."

You smile, "It's okay. Come on."

You walk with him to the bedroom and you manage to successfully get a kiss before he fell back asleep. You smile and shake your head, laying back as you reach over to turn the light off.

── •✧• ──

After having a good nights sleep, you wake up feeling great. As you lay there, thinking about the details of the day, Alex comes in to say goodbye for work.

"You will do amazing today." He says walking over to sit on the edge of the bed. Your body move towards his slightly as the mattress sinks down, "Thank you."

You smile up at him and rest a hand on his cheek as he leans in. He presses his lips against your and moves to kiss your cheek a few times, "You got this, y/n. I'm serious."

"I will call you after."

"Directly after! I want to know everything!" He stands up and points to you, "Good luck. I love you."

"I love you." You say with a smile, "Have a good day."

Alex leaves for work and you lean over to grab your phone, calling Sage.

"Hello?" She mumbles after a few rings, "It's early."

"I know, I'm sorry. I need help picking out an outfit." You sigh as you sit up, "I was fine until just now. I'm freaking out."

You hear Sage laugh as you put her on speaker and toss the bags on the bed, "Sage!" You groan, "Please. Help me."

She sighs, "Wear the skirt that has the open square print with black heels and that long sleeve black blouse thing."

You pull the clothing from the bag and sigh, "Thank you. You can go back to sleep now."

"Uh huh." The line beeps and you laugh slightly, laying out the clothes on the bed.

You go to your closet and sit down, looking at your pile of shoes already feeling defeated. You lean forward, pulling out the first option of heels.

You study them for a few seconds, humming to yourself as you inspect them, turning them slowly before setting them down to move on to the next.

You repeat that process with about five pairs before you come across your velvet heels with the ankle strap.

"Perfect." You grab the other one and get up, walking over to lay them down beside your outfit. You look at the time and seeing as it's only nine fourth five, you go make yourself some breakfast.

You stared at the bowl of cereal in front of you, not really wanting to eat as your anxiety slowly work on taking over your whole body.

You take a few bites before calling it quits. You reach over and lay your hand on your phone, sliding it over to you.

You stare at it for a few moments, debating on whether or not you should look up Harry more. You shake your head and get up to clean your cereal bowl.

── •✧• ──

You managed to keep yourself busy, get ready and give yourself one last look in the mirror by one. You didn't realize you were shaking until you reached for your keys on the stand.

You take a deep breathe and grab them before making your way out of the door.

Your phone buzzes as you get into your car and you smile because it's most likely your hourly supportive text from Alex.

You start the car, get the air going and grab your phone, smiling as you read the text from Alex,

Alex: You got this. I know you're probably nervous but don't be. You are going to rock this interview and be the CEO's assistant.

Your bottom lip slips between your teeth and you take a deep breathe. The thought of Harry drives you insane. You don't know what it is, but ever since yesterday you cannot stop thinking about this man.

A part of you hopes you don't get the job so you can stop all of this delusional day dreaming, but an even bigger part of you wants you to be the one to get the job and see what happens.

You send him back two hearts and start your drive to what could possibly be the best or worst day of your life.

You can feel your stomach drop as you pull into the empty spot out front. You don't want to move, but you force yourself to grab your purse and get out.

You pop some coins into the meter and lock your car before throwing your keys into your purse. You walk inside, wiping your palm on your skirt before pulling the glass door open.

You can't help but to look around, aweing at the building that you've dreamed of being in one day. You were so caught up in, pretty much having a fan girl moment, that you don't hear the receptionist calling for you.

"Miss? Hello."

You turn and blink, "Oh.." you laugh slightly and hover your fingers over your mouth, "I am so sorry."

She smiles and sits back down, "It's a very beautiful building, I know." She shuffles some papers around before looking back up at you, "Are you Y/N Y/L/N?"

You rest your hands on the counter and nod, "Yes I am."

"Do you have your I.D?" She pretends to hold a card between her fingers and you nod, "Yes." You open your purse and pull out your wallet, slipping out the plastic card from the holder, "Here you go."

She smiles and takes it, "Thank you, with being a big company you never know who wants to try anything."

You raise your eyebrows, "Oh no. I understand."

She types in your information and scans your I.D before handing it back to you, "Thank you." She leans in and looks at her computer, "You're here for the interview with Mr. Styles, right?"

Your body goes cold and you nod, forcing a smile that covers up your nervousness, "Yes, I am."

She nods, "Just giving you a warning, he can be a little.." she tilts her head, "Mm, hard to deal with sometimes, but you're pretty so just smile and agree with him."

You jerk your head back slightly at her comments, "Um, alright." You pull your purse straps up onto your shoulder and watch as she dials a number.

It rings on speaker a few times before a man picks up "Mr. Styles' office, Jake speaking, how can I help you?"

"Hello, Jake. It's Jamie from the front, I have y/n here for the two o'clock interview with Mr. Styles." Jamie looks up at you and smiles.

"He's still in with the other one, but go ahead and send her up. She can wait out with me."

Your stomach does a flip and you feel like you could throw up, "You're going to head to the tenth floor and it's the second to last door on your right."

You nod and swallow, "Thank you." You start to walk to the elevator, your heels clicking against the white flooring.

You press the button and the doors open. You step on, pressed the button labeled with a fancy looking '10'.

You were amazed, you never seen a mirror in an elevator before. You bite your lip, smirking as you quickly dig your phone out of your purse. You swipe over to the camera and snap a quick mirror selfie before the elevator dings.

You spin around fast and drop your phone back into your bag as you look up and giving the woman a small smile, "Hi." She smiles, "Good afternoon."

She gets off on the next floor but more people get on and then off and it feels like you have been on the elevator, stewing in your anxiety for what feels like an eternity.

You let out a slightly loud sigh, "Finally." You step off and walk down the hall. You stop when you make your way to the door Jamie said to go to and you take a slow, shaky deep breath and breathe it out before opening it.

"Y/n?" Who you assume, Jake says standing up.

"Yes, that's me."

"Great. So if you just want to have a seat, relax for a few minutes, he should be wrapping up with this person shortly." Jake smiles and motions to a mini fridge, "Water? Anything to drink?"

You shake your head as you walk over and sit down, "No thank you. I'm okay."

He nods and goes back to his desk. He picks up the phone and holds it as he dials, "Mr. Styles, your last interview is here whenever you're ready."

Your eyes flick up to Jake then over to the door you entered in. You don't know how you missed it, but it has Harry Styles in bold letters and even reading his name gives you a flutter.

Maybe it's because he's an important person in the company you much the working for? You try to talk yourself down, all while trying to stay alert for your cue to go in.

After about twenty minutes of waiting, Jake's phone rings. You sit up straight, clutching onto your purse as you anticipate him telling you to go.

"Yes sir, one second." He hangs up the phone and stands up, "I'll be right back." He walks back the hall and you can hear a door open.

It's silent for a few moments before you hear a voice enter the hall way. It sounds deep and angry, and the accent kind of threw you off.

You hear footsteps in the hall and your heart starts to race. Jake and another guy are walking out and Jake is whispering things to him.

You make eye contact with the guy being walked out and he points behind him, "Don't even waste your time with that fucking douche bag."

"Stop or I will call security." Jake says as he opens the door, "Y/N, you can go back."

"O-oh." You stand up slowly, "Okay, thank you." You look at the hall and slowly walk back.

"Did you get him out of here, Jake? I swear to god if this last one is just as fuckin' stupid as the others I-"

Harry's talking stops abruptly as his eyes land on you, "Shit. I'm so sorry."

You suddenly feel this burst of confidence take over your body and you tilt your head, "Having a little trouble finding an assistant?"

He chuckles slightly and looks down as he nods, "Yeah, I am, believe it or not." He looks up and motions for you to sit down, "Please, come in. Have a seat."

You walk in as Harry walks around his desk to close the door. You sit down and look up at him as he walks to sit back at his desk, "I'm sorry." He turns towards you and rests his hands on his desk.

You knew he was apologizing, but once you glanced down, you couldn't stop thinking about his hands, the rings, the painted nails, fuck.

"It's fine." You smile at him, "Really! That guy seemed like a real asshole anyway."

He smirks and nods as he leans back, "He didn't want to accept no as an answer, so I had to explain why and that took over an hour."

"Oh god. I'm so sorry." You nod, "I wouldn't want to have to do that for over an hour either."

He squints as he stares at you, "I like you."

His words scare the shit out of you, "what?" You laugh slightly embarrassed.

"I said." He leans forward and folds his arms on the desk, "I like you."

You can feel a pathetic blush rising on your cheeks and you can't help but smile, "Thank you." You look up at him and he smirks, "Tell me about yourself, darling."

"We'll, I graduated with a bachelor's degree in English and I studied communications, journalism and photography as well."

He chuckles and shakes his head, "No, no." He leans back and waves his hand, "I already know all of that, I mean about you."

You smile and lean forward, tugging your skirt down as you switch your legs around, "Oh, um. Well.."

Suddenly you can't think of anything about you and you blank.

"Are you married?"

His question snaps you out of trying to think real quick, "Huh?" He points and you look down ay hour hand, lifting it slightly as you show off your ring, "Yes, I am."

You look back up at him and he presses his lips together, nodding as his eyes study your ring, "That's nice."

"Are you?" You ask without thinking.

You start to panic, thinking it might be a touching subject for him or just not a good topic so you shake your head, "Sorry, that was-"

"No, no. I asked first." He laughs and look at you, blindly slowly as he shakes his head slightly, "I am not married. Single, actually."

There's a twinge in your gut that tells you to get away from this topic.

"I just haven't found the right person yet, you know?"

You nod, "I totally get that, I got married a lot younger than I planned, I love Alex, but sometimes I can't help but to think.. you know maybe.." you trail off and look at him.

He has a slight smile rested on his lips and you sigh, "This isn't a therapy session. I apologize." You lay a hand on your forehead and rub your temples with your thumb and middle finger.

You curse yourself internally and wish you would magically poof home, under the covers to hide from everything happening right now.

"You're fine, love. I promise. If you weren't, you wouldn't be in my office this long." He smiles and gives you a quick wink.

You smile slightly and tilt your head, "Can I ask you something?" He nods, "Of course."

You smile slightly, "Please, don't take this the wrong way, I don't know if this is weird but where are you from?"

He chuckles and shakes his head, "No, no you're fine. I get that a lot but I'll break it down for you." He glances up at you as he smiles, "So I was born in Redditch, then when I was seven, my parents divorced and I grew up in Holmes Chapel with my mom. That was a really weird time for me."

You are kind of shocked that Harry just gave you part of his life story in a matter of minutes of meeting him.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that." You shake your head, "My parents divorced, too, but I had to live with my dad. My mom moved three hours away with some guy she met on line."

He shakes his head, "That's not fair to you. I'm sorry, darling."

You feel weirdly comfortable with him, like you could tell him your deepest darkest secret and it will always be safe with him.

"It's okay. I managed. Look where I'm at now." You laugh slightly and motion around you.

Harry nods and smiles at you, "Mhm, Alluring Mag's newest assistant to me."

"What?" You cover your mouth, "Are you serious?" He nods and smiles, “So when do you want to start?"

"I'll start whenever you want me to." You tried to not sound too eager but you indeed, fail.

"Do you need to let another employer know or?"

You shake your head, "Nope. If tomorrow works for you, it works for me."

He nods, "See you tomorrow then." He stands up and holds his hand out and you take his hand with yours, "I get here about eight, so if you just wanted to get here at seven thirty to settle in, Jake can let you into my office."

You nod and smile, "Thank you so much, Mr. Styles."

He squeezes you hand and leans in, "Please, when it's us, Harry is just fine." You smile, "Thank you so much, Harry."

"I'm excited to have you with me." He winks at you before letting go of your hand, "See you tomorrow."

You grab your bag and walk out of his office. You could feel his eyes burn into the back of you as you walks towards the door.

You glance back and his eyes quickly move up from your ass to your face and he smirks.

"Have a good day, Mr. Styles."

He smirks and shakes his head, "Have a good day, y/n."

And with that, you open the door and leave his office, ready to inform everybody that you are in fact newest assistant to the CEO of Alluring Mag.

── •✧• ──

Hello everyone, just a quick little authors note here.

I want you guys to tell me your thoughts about this! Every detail matters! I want to make this fanfiction the best that I can for you guys! If you have any ideas, you can message or comment anything and I will take it all into consideration!

Thank you for reading Secret Affairs.

Chapter 2 | Masterlist

Tag list: @larrystuff28

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justplainwhump · 5 months

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Just A Fling: Distraction

Because @wildfaewhump has amazing (hot!) characters and Dany just can't keep her hands to herself, here's another spicy AU. In which my Dany and Vic's Peyton have had nothing bad happen to them and are successful rich kids working in their parent's companies. They also happen to have insane chemistry.

[Just A Fling Masterlist]

(Don't worry though, there's plenty whump on the horizon. Peyton isn't exactly a nice guy.)

(This is technically aligned with the "Everything and Nothing" AU of Vic, focusing on Valerian as Peyton's spouse)

Content: (Very) Spicy flirting. A lot of innuendo.

Night has long fallen, and Dany leans back in the leather chair of the hotel bar, staring at the city lights far below. Young Leaders in Management, the conference is called, and it's an honor to be there; chances are a bunch of them will be in next year's "30 under 30" list of top managers. It's hard to truly believe in it, when most of them work for companies that have their parents' name.

People like Peyton Montgomery, 29, CFO of Montgomery Capital. Charlene Lennox, 26, CFO of Baxter, Lennox and partners. Orville Roscoe, 25, whose grandmother put the R in WRU. And herself, Danielle Hammond, 29, COO of the Hammond Group.

Charlene had invited her to dinner over their joint venture building up a freight airline; and as always she'd been a strenuous and utterly un-fun conversation partner, leaving Dany in desperate need of a drink after their meeting had finally ended.

A drink, and a distraction.

She pulls out her phone with a sigh, scrolling down to find the respective apps.

"What are you doing?", Kate asks, suddenly alert. Shes been half asleep before, and Dany almost feels the pang of a bad conscience. Kate is second shift of her security detail, but that still means she's been working all night.

"Bumble." Dany turns her screen for Kate to see. "I need a fuck."

"Dany," Kate groans. "Please, give me a break. You know how hard it is to vet random strangers on the internet? For all I know, any of the men in that app could be a serial killer."

"Well, what else do you suggest?"

"Look at what's right in front of you. How about..." She makes a vague gesture. "Peyton Montgomery? He's sitting at the bar and he checked your ass out twice in the last five minutes alone."

Dany glances over her shoulder through the dim light of the half empty bar, easily spotting Peyton's dark curls. He's sitting at the bar. Alone, it seems - a state that seems entirely wrong for him. At home during any social events, he's the heart of the party; him, his spouse and their elitist circle of old-money friends. She'd never felt any need to belong.

"Pretty sure your line of arguments is flawed," she notes. "Rich boys can be serial killers, too, you know."

"At least I can be sure that he isn't in it for your money." Kate shrugged and pushed her glass of water from one side of the table to the other. "Plus, he lives in the same hotel. Neither of us has to get out in the cold."

Dany sighs and looks at him again. She's attended a panel with him, earlier today, 'Cost cutting by Process Automation'. Arrogant, spoilt, pumped with the casual confidence of those who always got whatever they wanted. He's also got a pretty smile, dry humour, and a way with numbers. And she really likes the way his shirt emphasises his shoulders.

Maybe it's worth a shot.

His head goes up to the mirror over the bar and he smirks, acknowledging her stare. Slowly, not breaking eye contact, he raises his glass to his lips and takes a small sip.

Fuck.

Just for that smirk, she'd swipe him right in any app.

She breaks their eye contact and looks back at Kate, half defeated. "I'll talk to him."

Kate grins and raps her knuckles on the table. "Good luck."

"Dany Hammond." Peyton smiles as she steps up next to him. "Really enjoyed that debate with you today. You're up late."

"Thanks. Right back at you. Still not over your cost efficiency argumentation, though. These numbers are obviously -" She bites her lip and shakes her head. Focus. She's here to find something else entirely. "Well you're right with one thing. It's too late to talk business."

"It is." He tilts his head at the empty bar stool next to him. "Let me buy you a drink?"

Dany raises an eyebrow, stepping back to look him down slowly. His shoulders and arms under that expensive shirt look even better up close. He really is her type. "Depends on what your intentions are with that."

He chuckles and returns the favour, taking her in head to toe. "Well... I could certainly come up with some ideas for my... intentions." Peyton glances over her shoulder and raises his glass towards Kate. "I guess it all depends on what your bodyguard back there will let me do to you."

"Ah." Dany clicks her tongue in fake disappointment. "Wrong answer, rich boy."

"Oh?" He narrows his eyes, a hint of a challenge sparking in them. "Depends on what... you'll let me do to you?"

She takes a sip of her drink and tilts her head. "Better."

He's not moving for a moment, simply assessing her, and she wonders if Kate's been wrong.

"Let's say..." He begins, and something to his tone makes a warm shiver run down her spine already. His eyes are firmly on hers now, very carefully observing any reaction. "Let's assume my intentions were to fuck you over every horizontal surface of my suite?"

Dany's heart is racing with anticipation. "Hmmm." Her lip twitches into a smirk. "Then I guess you should order these drinks to go."

Peyton snaps his fingers and signals the bartender without taking his gaze off of her. "You should just know, Dany," He gives her an almost boyish grin, as the bartender scurries back to pick up a bottle. "I was prepared to properly seduce you. I'd have given you the whole nine yards. The words, the smiles, the body language, the touches. People tend to admire my effortless charm."

Dany slides from her chair, their bodies almost touching, but just not, close enough to feel the heat radiating from each other. "Oh I don't have a doubt you're a good actor", she admits, and reaches out, fingertips resting on his chest. "But haven't we found on in that debate that we both rather share a passion for..." She leans in, acutely aware of how her hair falls over his shoulder, how her breath must feel on the skin of his neck. "... efficacy."

He moves faster than she expected, his hand on her hip spinning her around, and then she's pinned between his body and the bar, and it's his mouth that is on her neck, his teeth grazing over her skin.

From the corner of her eye, she sees Kate jump to her feet.

Peyton chuckles, holds out his hand, and a cold bottle of champagne is handed to him.

"Make sure your bodyguard knows not to disturb us," he murmurs into her hair. "We're going to be making a lot of noise."

#listen i love writing competent dany #and she *is* good at getting what she wants #which is what I want #which is bad boy Peyton #blame Vic #Dany crossover #Dany au #Dany Hammond #Dany Peyton au #just a fling au

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copperlinecharacters · 10 months

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@aristobun - Names have been changed but here's a story that may have healed a rather deep wound in me. Enjoy! <3 TW: violence implied

Fun Fact: All images were created through AI text prompt.

“All you’ll ever be is a stepping stone for the men that use you and throw you away. Remember my beautiful little fool, there’s always someone out there that’s prettier, smarter, and willing to do what you won’t to keep your fella satisfied.”

Her mother’s voice flittering in and out of her head, a hellish echo from her childhood and her growing up years on a vast plot of land referred simply as the Copperline by the locals. It took her back to that rambling hodgepodge of a house with the coal stove and the root cellar built into the dig out hillside and its rooms with ceilings at odd angles and the doors that went seemingly nowhere.

“Now what’re you goin’ to do with her, Mar?”

Was what her father would have asked if he’d been sitting in the passenger seat next to her. Here she sat with the station wagon idling as she gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were turning white as her face turned red as a beet, clashing horribly with her red hair.

Worthless. Selfish. Stupid.

She could almost feel the blows landing from those long ago locked away memories of mother’s wrath. Mary could almost feel the hands gripping at her throat again and quickly blocked the thought away back into the box. Heart pounding and eyes welling up with fresh tears from past pain a knock at the window sounded. Gil Betcher, the undertaker and funeral coordinator at Palmer & Higgins Funeral Home had popped out and was holding a cordless phone. All while trying to keep his suit dry and his hairpiece in place as it flapped in the late summer wind as the storm rolled in. The sandy blonde piece of carpet resembled a dead squirrel so closely that Mary’s eyes bugged for a moment half thinking she was seeing him be attacked in the parking lot.

“It’s for you!”

Cranking down the wind hurriedly Mary gave him a look of thanks and accepted the heat plastic weight.

“Ms. Pettymore…It’s Charlene at The Whispering Pines.”

“Yes?”

It had been ages since anyone had thought Mary wasn’t married. Alas, she’d been married since she was 18. Her marriage to Bill Higgins, the one and very same whose name was on the building had been a rushed one and that was a story for another day.

“We went in to give your father his pain medication and I’m sorry, Mrs. Higgins but your father has passed away.

“How long ago?”

A quick shuffle of paper and she had her answer.

“Ten minutes ago.”

‘Ten minutes I could have had with him but I was here picking up this bitch.’

Mary thought to herself as her mouth set in a firm straight line as she cast a side long glare at the lavender hued monstrosity of an urn that held the last remains of the former Mrs. Cecelia Ann Pettymore. Or Celia as she had been known to the few that called her friend. $1600 for a Grecian style naturally occurring Roman marble finished with gold fixtures and name plate with custom engraving of her name and dates.

“Well, good news, Charlene. I’ve got Gil right here. He’ll be over to collect him very shortly.”

Passing the phone back to Gil she pulled the car into reverse and stopped quickly, tires squealing slightly. The heart clenching nausea and knots tangled in her mind slipped for a moment and Mary Pettymore-Higgins’ niceties and manners simply fell away much like her world had fallen apart. Her filter flew off and her ID took over.

“He’s gone Gilbert. He’s over at the Pines room 1802 in the blue wing. Go and pick him up, please.”

Gil Betcher straightened himself a little taller, back into business mode.

“Are you thinking of doing the complete Gold package?”

Mary was almost surprised at her ID’s straight forwardness as she watched her own hand shoot out from the driver’s side window and grab hold of the first thing she could, Gil’s crotch, and squeeze just a firmly as she did her steering wheel. This sleaze bag that worked for her husband and herself, a man she herself had cooked for every holiday since she had married into the Higgins family, had the balls to ask her if she was going to be tacking on another $845 to her own father’s funeral not ten minutes after his passing.

“Did. I. ASK you about the gold package, boy? I. TOLD you to go and pick his earthly body up for cremation. You’ll have him done tomorrow afternoon by 4PM and I WILL be picking him up at 4 on the goddamn dot.”

Each important word was punctuated by what was surely a heart stopped harder squeeze to the undertaker’s nether region. A horrified shriek squeak left the man’s mouth as he saw a definite change in the woman he knew to be as gentle as a lamb. Everyone in the town of Miller’s Ridge knew what kind of life she’d had growing up. Then she married the biggest skirt chasing Tom Catter in town. Perhaps this is what finally pushed that poor sweet woman over the edge.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Pulling her arm back she threw the car in reverse again and peeled out heading left sharply enough to cut off Irene Lumming’s silver chevy as it tried to turn in into the lot. Irene honked and called a rude name from her window just in time to be cracked in the face with a Stop N’ Sip mug thrown with surprisingly good aim by Mary as she completed the turn followed by a

“Piss off, Irene!”

“You see this shit, Gil?!”

Irene had yelled before pulling into her reserved spot on the right hand side of the car park towards the beauty salon where she worked.

“Her Daddy’s gone now too, Irene.”

“Aww hell this town don’t stand a chance now that she’s getting her feeling back. Always knew she fiery but she’s always been so sweet. Think she’s gone and cracked up?”

“Hard life n’ it’s hard to tell presently.”

Was all Gil was able to say as he tried very hard not to focus on the dull bruising ache that was throbbing below the belt. He now wondered if she’d done permanent damage. He feared that she might do worse to him if she circled back and still saw him standing here like a damn goober eating idiot.

Somewhere down Snapping Turtle Lane the Buick Electra Estate Wagon owned by Mrs. Mary Higgins was officially owning up to its horse power. The gravel kicking up behind her made her smile for a moment until she caught a glimpse of a familiar bottle blonde bouffant in her rearview. Sharp blue eyes locked onto her own as the form took better shape. The smell of Roman Sunset perfume and Tellings-Boyce cigarettes filled her car as Celia took shape once more. The she sat, perched and looking like she could back hand Mary from where she sat. Her black shift dress paired with pearls and pillbox reminded Mary of the night of her graduation night. Her mother had backhanded her for asking where her graduation cap had gone and called her an idiot of getting a black eye and losing her cap. There were still photos of her vain attempt at covering her shiner as best she could with makeup and her long red hair. Bill had still proposed to her that night to her and even told her she was pretty as a picture even with it. The following month they were married, he was working for father and she was cleaning houses for the well to do’s around Lake Mitchum.

“Where are you off to, girly? Running away?”

Slamming on the brakes for a moment she came to a screeching halt enough to find the urn onto the floorboards with a solid thunk.

“No, Cecelia. I’m not running away. I’m taking care of you once and for all.”

Turning into the familiar driveway she eased herself up to the garage and hurried in and set to work. She could have sworn she felt her mother follow her every move.

“You may as well sit down if you intend to watch this.”

Mary said as she rummaged through the hall closet for her stash. The wooden box she kept it in hadn’t change since she had discovered the plant’s wonders in her teens. Bill had been the one to get her stoned out in the rushes by the Copperline Creek. Alas, he had changed massively after they married he became, slowly, what he was now. A man that couldn’t keep his dick in his pants if the world depended on it. She knew he had girls all over the counties but right now she could care less about him and his flings, she’d deal with all that and him later.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

Came a bark from the depths of her mind as she smelled that stupid perfume and heard that voice.

“I’m planning to get myself calmed down so I can deal with you, Mother.”

Cornflower blue eyes blinked at her as Mary sat herself down at the kitchen table and went about the ritual she loved deeply. The spicy sweet heavy scent of it hit her and she smirked at the scowl she imagined her mother sitting across from her at the tidy kitchen table.

“No good drugged up hippy. No wonder Bill steps out on you. Wasting his money on yourself with that awful addiction.”

Deftly picking apart the heady green bud she rolled herself quite possibly the largest joint she’d ever crafted, lit it and inhaled deeply holding as she listened to her mother’s voice before she exhaled a rather large plume of smoke in Celia’s direction, squarely hitting her mother’s face.

“Shut the hell up.”

Celia bristled at that fact that it wasn’t as request but a command.

“Why are you making another one?”

“Because you and I are going on a small trip and I’m going to need backup Which reminds me…”

Grabbing a sandwich baggie, the weed and an extra lighter she wrote out a note to Bill telling him that dinner was in the crock pot and went about taking the stash of cash she’d fond in one of his favorite hiding spots. $600 was there, she’d thought of only taking fifty of it but she’d had a change of heart as she thought back to their anniversary and how he’d spent it with Kelli Stetler two counties over hold up in a sleazy little no tell motel with a heart shaped tub and tacky red decor. She’d had a feeling and followed him there, had the photos to prove it and entrusted the key to the safe deposit box to her oldest and dearest friend, Misty Chanter, for safe keeping.

“Beer money.”

Celia almost smirked at that one but still regarded her with deep suspicion. Grabbing her purse once more she spotted the Hoover vacuum sitting in the corner where she’d left it last night after coming home and cleaning the place top to bottom. Bill, as usual, was gone ‘on business.’ A fresh bag was grabbed and it was toted out the station wagon along with an overnight bag she’d packed and kept for when this day came. Stopping by the gas station she filled her gas tank. She’d completely forgotten that she was still puffing away on her hand roll until she’d nearly burnt her lip. Snuffing it out in the ashtray she slipped the next one into her pocket and went into the Quiker Liquor cash and carry and bought herself a twelve pack of Schlitz and a bottle of Schnapps, the cherry kind that she used to love at bonfires and tailgates. She’d not realized that the second joint had migrated from her pocket to her lips as she browsed the selection of lottery tickets in the glass display in the front of the counter.

“I-I’m not sure you can smoke that in here, Mrs. Higgins.”

Came a squeaky voiced statement from the kid, Jeremy Holden, who Mary used to babysit.

“Wasn’t plannin’ on it, Jeremy. Just need this and the change and one of these…

She stopped as she grabbed a bottle opener from the display by the register.

“Oh and it’s Ms. Pettymore, actually or it will be once Burt Fleischer serves Bill at 6:45 today.”

Jeremy wasn’t sure exactly what he was supposed to do with that information but he could tell by her demeanor Mrs. Higgins Ms. Pettymore was certainly dealing with something big. She gave him a pretty smile and off she went smelling like some of the best home grown he’d never get the chance to try until he was at college. In his nineteen year old heart he almost felt sorry for Bill Higgins. Especially as Mary walked away with a swing in her hips. The fact that he saw her pull out of the parking spot like the hounds of hell were on her tail made him slightly envious of her driving skills.

“So…you’re planning on getting tanked, drugged up and going back to my house? Why?”

Ever the lady even in death, Celia kept her ankles and knees tightly closed together. Flicking on the radio Zeppelin filled the car. The scowl on her mother’s face deepened and made Mary thrum with a sort of joy that made her almost positive that she’d lost her mind.

“Oh. Surely you mean my house, right?”

Owl eyes and ruffled feathers from the not to friendly ghost on the backseat. In a blink Celia was shotgun and trying to grab the wheel. Even in death her fingernails resembled talons. The only difference was that they couldn’t inflict pain or damage.

“That house’ll never be yours! It’s MINE!”

“Wrong!”

Her voice rang out sharp and quick like heat lightning and it was enough to the pin the Spector of her mother to her seat in silent shock. According to family lore that dated back to the 1700s and the settling of the town itself it was to be passed to the continued line of sons blood line. Being Mary was the literal last of the settling line to be born to the final son it was bittersweet. There was also the legal state of things. Her mother left no will, her father, Herschel had had the good sense to prepare as best he could with the time given to him, all six months of it. According to the Commonwealth Mary Colleen Pettymore-Higgins was the brand spanking new owner of 445 acres of land, one rambling farmhouse and a rental property at the end of Pettymore Hollow which ensured a steady and tidy little sum each month. As of right this moment each month’s rent was being put partially towards monthly tax payments to keep up to date and partially put into savings that only Mary had access to.

“Legally, the state recognizes me as the sole heir and as executrix of Dad’s estate it’s mine, clean cut and dried. I’m leaving Bill. I’m starting over.”

“I’ll haunt you for this you spoiled little brat.”

“You haunted me while you were alive so suck it, bitch.”

“You think you have it so easy. To leave someone that doesn’t love you. Well, it’s not so simple when you have an overly dependent child clinging to the apron strings that you never wanted.”

With a puff of smoke Celia was gone, the cloying smell of magnolia flowers and menthol smoke left behind. One stop of the hardware store out on Route 9 and there was nothing stopping her from setting out what she set to do. Glancing at the clock on the dash it read 12:30. She hadn’t thought her plan was going to be put into action so quickly but here she was, ahead of time. As she took a turn around the bend that lead onto the winding private lane she sighed. That statement about Mary not being wanted had stopped hurting around the time that she had turned 13. It held no feeling anymore, it was simply a harsh fact of reality that she found herself living with and trying to put behind her as best that she could. For the most part the wound had healed but every now and then a sharp pang of grief over the type of mother Celia could have been gets to her.

“You gave me arms you frigid bitch on wheels. You gave me working arms and legs.”

That particular motto came about when Mary was about 17 or so and had stuck to this day at age 35. A silent prayer of thanks that she had found herself without children with Bill. Things were better that way it seemed. He volunteered his time teaching Driver’s Ed and coaching football that with his full time job owning the only Insurance/Travel agency in four counties and taking over the funeral home from his father that it was a miracle he was home. Well, that and the fact that he had many dalliances outside their marriage. Mary liked to think that a man like her husband had children. Just not with their wife. She was just the asshole that shared his name, gold bands and monogrammed bath towels with.

“Everything a Higgins touches turns to gold. Keep him happy and you’ll never have to worry that head of yours you beautiful little fool.”

Celia’s voice was back in her head again. The third joint joined the last two as the tank of a car wound around the snake curves of the driveway. The place had been kept up but it was now the scraggly tail end of summer. The station wagon slowly marched itself towards the oldest and newest destination in her mind. She could almost see herself running barefoot in the woods with her dog Blue long hair waving in the wind at ten years old. Around the next turn she saw herself running and panicked from Celia after she’d been drinking, around the time Mary had turned 16. It hadn't been long after that run for freedom that Cella ended up in County Home Hospital fora 'sudden breathing and heart related issue.' Shutting that one away she focused on the memory of her first best friend, Blue. A tiny terrier mix with eyes like her own, a mix of blue and hazel with a spritely shot of green through the right. Mary’s on her left. She adored that little dog and had many a year until his back leg was broken in a fall and her mother refused to have it treated promptly when asked to take him to an appointment. Mary had been away on honeymoon and had received a phone call from their frantic housekeeper, Tilly. He had been treated initially for what was supposedly a simple break in his hind leg. He had survived the initial surgery and two weeks at home with both Bill and Mary taking turns with him and trying to find the new normal for her beloved pet. He had died in her arms and she knew that that day she had lost a part of her soul. In all realities he had been the closest thing she would ever come to having a child. A sad realization to have at her age that it still pained her. Pushing that thought aside with the others to be locked away in its own box. Her car had nosed itself to the very top of the final curve of the driveway and the house was coming into view with its ancient weathervane first. Which ever family member had decided to have a wolf’s head as the animal protecting the house made her laugh. Parking off to the left of the bird bath and feeder she sat there before lighting her joint. The auxiliary was left on and the radio played an old lush sounding Velvet Underground song, the timeless ode to Sweet Jane.

“Sing it, Lou.”

Tilting the driver’s seat back she inhaled deeply taking a quick second hit and holding it down. Her eyes felt heavy and she could have sworn she was floating.

The song quickly switched to something that made her think of her father’s opinion of Bill.

“That boy’s gonna roll you like some dice, Mary.”

“It’s alright, the Deuce’s still wild, Daddy.”

A slow exhale as she sang long

“Oh you got to roll me…and man did he ever. This one’s for you, Pop.”

Taking one last hit before shutting the car off she blinked back tears at the memory of happier times, what few there were, with Bill. Snuffing the roach and grabbing her bags from the car she made her way up onto the front porch. A year’s worth of old dried out leaves crunched under her feet as she fished out her keys and juggled her things before the front door swung open. She was greeted with a great plume of dust from the front entrance.

“Welcome home indeed.”

She muttered as she mentally sorted herself out. The power was still on, she’d had the good sense to keep the power on strictly because she honestly thought her father was coming back home one last time.

I thought the same thing too, dammit.

His voice sounded from the side of her, the ‘good living room’ as her mother had called it. He was still in that room and still in that god awful chair. Tufted watered silk with swan feathers stitched into the most nauseatingly intricate pattern in cream on lavender. It had been deemed 'fit for her king' and her father had simply rolled his eyes at that. It wasn't a secret that Cecelia Ann Palmer-Pettymore had taken to stepping out on her husband. It's just was women of her status did she had rationalized on evening on a very long card ride home from the summer camp, Wiholka Lake Camp, after her Granny Pettymore passed away. Mary had been twelve and still adjusting to her maturing body.

Herschel Jean Pettymore was as alive as he’d been when Mary had left him at Whispering Pines only a few hours ago. He had been sitting up, propped by endless pillows, dressed in his most comfortable t-shirt advertising the grain silo that had their name carefully painted onto the side and lounge pants. He'd been ten deep into the Miller's Ridge Record's weekly crossword puzzle and his second cup of coffee when he'd sent her out to pick up a very specific type of rolling paper. Just as she had kissed his cheek and hugged him a nurse came in and told her that Gil Better had called saying that her mother was ready for pick up. Given that she and Bill had a night out planned her father insisted she kill two birds with one stone, pick up the papers and her mother and then head home to primp herself up a little bit. She saw him just as clearly as she had seen Celia. Instead of a mind’s eye image of a particular snapshot in time, her father was dressed much like he always had been. Heavy canvas work pants, white t-shirt and a tan pocket chambray button down over it. Hair still gleaming from the pomade and smelling of a mix of Slick Shine and Baron cologne. Quite the hell of a juxtaposition of the tacky taste her mother loved. Catalog class, as Herschel had called it. Those that didn’t have good taste naturally assumed that they could throw enough money at the problem but you couldn’t change the spots on the leopard that was matriarch of the family.

“I didn’t mean to leave you like I did. I knew you’d be ok…you’re a tough one. You never let her beat you, Mar Bear.”

In a blink he was fading as he waved to her. She wasn’t entirely sure how to take what her father had said. As in the past? It was true, Celia hadn’t broken her spirit too badly and what she had managed to chip off Mary had glued back on herself somehow. If he had meant it as a warning she’d have thought he’d have had the sense of mind to actually sound much more serious about it.

“Smoke one for me, huh kid?”

His faded completely from view as the light changed and filtered softly through a different patch of tree line that had caught her eye out the window. Her mind drifted hazily as she exhaled one last time softly. Her hands were shaking as she rummaged through the hardware store bag. Finding the screwdriver she picked the lavender monstrosity that was her mother’s urn, and supposed final resting place. In her mind back when she was living Celia may have thought she’d have pride of place a top the mantle in the formal living room that she coveted and had decorated in her signature colors of Provincial Creme Ivory and Luscious Lavender Lace. Accented in Grecian Gold. The very room thought of having to go into that room made her queasy for a moment. The knot only releasing once she opened her eyes and saw that she was indeed the only thing with a pulse in the house.

‘Tackle one thing at a time, Mary.’

She thought to herself as she picked up both the urn, a hammer and the screw driver she needed. The thought struck her to do this act of supposed desecration, if she chose to look at it that way, on Celia’s prized white oak doing table but ultimately decided against it and took herself out onto the back porch to do the deed. It had been many years since she had truly prayed for her own soul and its forgiveness. There was that one time five years ago that she’d managed to hit that squirrel but she had viewed that as a mercy killing as the damn thing had already had a broken leg as it stepped into the path of her car.

“Dear God…it’s me…Mary. Uhm…please forgive me for what I’m about to do but I can’t have this woman in my house. I’m setting her free and hoping she understands that I needed to do this to draw a line for myself. I could never stand up to her when she was alive so I’m doing it now. I know it sounds cowardly but I think it’s better this way. Amen.”

The urn itself would have been nice enough if it had been on a thrift store shelf and used for fake flowers. By an old woman named Florence who lived in a gated retirement community in Boca Raton Florida. Celia’s love of pastels and cream had been legendary from her decor, to her chosen fashions, to her desserts at the church potluck.

Probably those horrible Arum lilies that she loved so damn much.

Forcing down the urge to gag she gingerly picked up the urn and put it down on its side to inspect the sliding cover on the bottom. It had advertised as an ‘easy open’ urn for eventual scattering if the family wanted the option. The base slid easily open in her hand and revealed a thick heavy white screw plugging the hole. She knew righty tight lefty loosey but this was insane. It finally dawned on her to attempt to use the flathead screwdriver and hammer as a chisel to get the plug out.

“You’ve lost you ever lovin’ mind, girl!”

“Ahh, knew you’d be back.”

“What are you doing?! That was the Queen’s Splendor urn that took six months to come from Italy!”

Swing and a miss with the hammer and screwdriver a solid gouge was made into the back porch. Laughing hollowly Mary turned to where her mother would have chosen to stand. Looking her form up and down she found herself severely unnerved that her mother lacked feet.

“Cripes on a trike! Do me a favor and form some legs and feet, please, Mother.”

“Girl, you keep calling me Mother like that and I’m tempted to do something hateful.”

This was her third swing and a miss and her temper was flaring at the fact her own mother’s spirit, or rather her mind’s interpretation of it had taken to actually calling her the name her mother had always referred to her as. This time though instead of making a gouge in the wood of the decking the screwdriver chipped a piece of marble the size of a half dollar off and hitting Celia between the eyes.

“Call me girl one more time, Mrs. Pettymore and I’ll flush your dusty ass down the Stop N’ Sip bathroom.”

For the third time her mother greatly resembled an highly uncomfortable large mouth bass whose lips had been glued shut.

“And it won’t even be the indoor one! If you so much as think of doing something to screw me up, over or sideways ever again you’ll end up in that Rent-a-Toilet out back.”

A terrified and highly undignified frustrated squeal of rage escaped Celia’s thin birdlike lips.

“Alright…alright. I give. Wh…where are you scattering me?”

“Out by the lilac bush next to the left side of the old chicken coop.”

“I hated those birds.”

“You loved that one…Sissy. Damn thing hated me but you loved the color of the eggs she laid.”

A small smile graced Celia’s face for a moment.

“I’m glad you remembered I like lilacs.”

Another swing and a tink and piece near the rim went flying out into the yard. For a moment Mary almost felt badly about destroying the stupid urn. Bill had come over one day and he and Celia had gotten on the subject of her passing, which in all reality was a good six years off and he had gotten her to take the bait on a model he couldn’t budge. Gil had gotten skunk drunk one night and screwed up a serial number by a single digit and now Palmer-Higgins had 100 of these stupid faux Grecian urns in a rainbow of ugly shades.

“Damn things look like they belong in your Mama’s bathroom, Mary.”

“Why not see if she wants one? This had Celia’s here written all over it.”

And that had been that, Celia had been gifted one and that sparked the town’s women of a certain age with access to disposable income to flock in and order their own in their ‘signature colors’. Mary had been told that it would serve her well to adopt buttercup yellow or spring green but she kept her wardrobe rather simple with earth and jewel tones in protest. Celia never did find out that the urn itself hadn’t quite come from Rome, Italy as she’d believed. It had instead come from Rome, New York to Miller’s Ridge.

“How could I forget? You’re the only Lady Lucille cosmetics seller to actually earn the coveted lilac Lincoln.”

That damn car was etched into her memory after the fact that she’d sustained her first concussion when she was smacked in the head by the back passenger door in the parking lot of Floyd’s Department store and knocked unconscious. Celia hadn’t even bothered to take her to the local urgent care to get checked over. Just gave her some children’s Tylenol and told her not to fall asleep. The scent of the lilac air fresheners ( a Lady Lucille exclusive that came with each car service it seemed ) mingled with Roman Sunset, Speedy Spray hairspray her cigarettes combined with the bleariness of the head injury it had been a surreal experience but she had kept herself awake until her father’s mother her granny Pearl had looked at her and taken her into town to Doc Heinz.

Pay dirt! The plug gave and popped off somewhere towards the right revealing a plastic bag filled with grey dust. Tipping it out did nothing except visibly upset the ghost of the departed. Mary couldn’t even bring herself to think of her mother as dearly right now. Perhaps with time but as she sat here her legs crossed crisscross applesauce shaking the ever loving shit out of the urn of the woman that she loved but couldn’t find herself to actually like she felt an urge to chuck the damn thing and see if it bounced. Intrusive inquisitive thoughts won out and the lavender mess was heaved down the steps to see if the cremains loosened. They didn’t much to Mary’s charging and Celia’s unabashed glee.

“FUCK!”

A murder of crows took the sky at her verbal assault to the air that was clearly directed at the urn. Throwing down the hammer and screwdriver with a groan Mary rubbed her face for a moment before she noticed the baby blue paint on the covered porch ceiling was chipping terribly. Another thing to add to her to do that would quite possibly help calm her in some way.

One thing at a time, Mar. One Damn thing at a time.

“Good luck on trying to get me out of there, Mrs. Higgins.

The sneer that painted her mother’s features was audible in her voice.

“This blows…”

Blows. Vacuum. The vacuum! Scrambling up to her feet and sprinting back to the car she found the Huber vacuum, a wedding gift from Bill himself way back in the day. A fresh bag in her left hand and carefully carrying it back onto the back porch Mary smiled.

“What in the hell? What’re you going to do Huber me out of my final well deserved resting place?”

Switching out the attachment to an extended telescopic hose with narrowed tip for nooks and crannies ( usually air vents and corners) a smile graced Mary’s face.

“Hell yes..”

A quick prayer was said over the vacuum as the extension chord was plugged into the outdoor outlet and the switch was flipped. A scream filled the air the momentarily rivaled the roar of the motor as grey ash made its way down a dark tube and into an ocean scented prison. The moment the pressure changed and a chunk shot up the tube Mary startled. The weed was finally hitting her as her body loosened up. The drooping feeling tugged at her just behind the eyes. The pitch of airflow changed, signaling an empty vessel. Popping the plug back into the base and covering it with the slide cover the entire urn was buried quickly in a deep sink hole at the back most southern corner without much ceremony. The vacuum was disassembled and shoved into a contractor’s garbage bag and left for trash pick up at the end of the lane. The actual bag holding the ashes was scattered right where she promised it and nowhere else.

You’ll never know just how much I loved and cared for you. More than you ever dared to do for me but I never for a moment hated you for it. I couldn’t ever…you were the only mother I was ever given and I loved you without shame. Without the expectation of anything ever in return. Of all the things I’ve ever wanted or needed from you I hope you’ve found a place to belong and finally just be.. I hope you’re happy wherever you and if you’re not you’ll learn exactly why you’re there.

A deep inhale took her. The weed had loosened her up enough to finally let that lump go from her throat. There were so many things she had left unsaid, that they had both left unsaid, so to clear the air Mary let out a scream. She figured something primal might help the healing process before she made a few phone calls.

“THANKS FOR THE LEGS, MA!”

Inside in the kitchen the phone rang. Rolling her eyes Mary sighed and turned to go inside and stopped herself as she heard the answering machine crackle to life. The faux wood monster that took up an entire hall table whirred on. Burt Fleischer’s voice filled the room, a jovial sign that William Danforth Buell Higgins had indeed been served with divorce papers.

“Fuck me running have I been out here all this time?”

Mary said to herself as traipsed into the house, catching a look at herself she heavily resembled a lobster and winced.

“Well, this is going be a long strange trip, ain’t it?”

#copperline characters #Mary Pettymore-Higgins

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richincolor · 1 year

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Everyone, please welcome Charlene Allen to Rich in Color! We're excited to have her here to talk about her novel, PLAY THE GAME, which came out earlier this year:

Play the Game by Charlene Allen Katherine Tegan Books

In the game of life, sometimes other people hold all the controls. Or so it seems to VZ. Four months have passed since his best friend Ed was killed by a white man in a Brooklyn parking lot.

When Singer, the man who killed Ed, is found dead in the same spot where Ed was murdered, all signs point to Jack, VZ’s other best friend, as the prime suspect.

VZ’s determined to complete the video game Ed never finished and figure out who actually killed Singer. With help from Diamond, the girl he’s crushing on at work, VZ falls into Ed’s quirky gameiverse. As the police close in on Jack, the game starts to uncover details that could lead to the truth about the murder.

Can VZ honor Ed and help Jack before it’s too late?

And now, on to the interview:

Thank you for joining us, Charlene! Please take a moment to introduce yourself.

Hey! I’m Charlene Allen. In addition to being a writer, I’m a mom to an awesome son and a quirky dog, I’m a life-partner, and I’m an activist working to end mass incarceration. Play the Game is my debut novel.

In PLAY THE GAME, VZ and his friendships with Ed and Jack are at the heart of what drives the plot. Can you tell us a little more about the three of them?

VZ, Ed and Jack are the kind of friends that grow up together because their parents are close, so they are always at each other’s houses. They’re more like cousins than friends. They know each other’s strengths and weaknesses, most embarrassing haircuts. Everything! And they’re all very different from each other. Jack’s all about the swagger, VZ ‘s into keeping it mellow, and Ed’s a proud gamer geek.

What other characters play important roles in PLAY THE GAME? What can you tell us about them?

The two other main characters in Play the Game are Chela and Diamond. Chela is VZ’s best school buddy, so a friend that exists entirely outside the triangle he, Ed and Jack form. Chela helps VZ with the mystery he has to solve to keep Jack out of trouble. But she doesn’t coddle him. When he gets in his feelings about Ed and Jack, she calls him on it and helps him see things more objectively. Diamond is VZ’s love interest. She’s taken, in a relationship with a guy they both work with, but there’s real romantic tension between her and VZ and neither one of them is able to ignore it.

How have your experiences as a lawyer and advocate influenced your writing for PLAY THE GAME?

My experience as a lawyer helped me see up close and personally how ineffective and inequitable our criminal legal system can be. That led me to do work to try to transform the system and find alternative approaches to conflict and harm; approaches that exist outside the system. All of that features in Play the Game, as VZ begins to understand how the system works, and takes on the question of what he and his friends can do to find a better way.

Restorative justice is an important part of PLAY THE GAME. What are some common misconceptions people have about restorative justice?

Great question and one that’s tough to answer quickly. I think “RJ” is becoming a buzz term and with that comes a lot of misconceptions. Often, people think of a restorative approach as anything that involves talking or is non-punitive. So, a school might have a restorative approach that involves all the parties in a situation having a conversation, but then if everything isn’t quickly resolved they resort to suspension or other forms of punishment. In that example, “RJ” is being used as a step inside of a larger existing system which, to me, defeats the purpose. To adopt a restorative approach is to involve community and engage with methods of accountability that don’t exist in most systems. It’s a culture shift, so it requires time and dedication to implement.

What's something you're particularly proud of in PLAY THE GAME?

I love that I was able to weave a lot of different elements together; the actual game that readers get to play in the book, the friendship story and mystery, the love story, and the RJ. It was my goal to write a book in which tough things happen, but the book is still a fun read because it captures the spirit of young people who lean into their friendships, abandon themselves to the throes of first love, and live their way into healing and self-discovery.

Now that PLAY THE GAME is in readers' hands, what is up next for you?

I’m finishing my next YA novel which should come out in the fall of ‘24. I’m excited because it’s completely different from Play the Game, but I think equally adventurous. It’s about a girl who’s digging up family secrets and figuring out where she belongs in the world.

And to close us out, what young adult books by BIPOC authors are you looking forward to reading this year?

I’ve just started The Lesbiana's Guide to Catholic School by Sonora Reyes, which is a lot of fun and I’m looking forward to finishing. I’m also looking forward to Ain’t Burned All the Bright by Jason Reynolds and Jayson Griffin. And, though I’m not sure if it’s technically YA, I’m excited to read Notes from a Young Black Chef by Kwame Onwuachi.

Charlene Allen works with community organizations to heal trauma and fight injustice, especially the beast called mass incarceration. She received her MFA from The New School, her JD from Northeastern University, and her BA from the University of Massachusetts at Amherst. She lives in Brooklyn with her fabulous family and their very silly dog. Play the Game is her debut novel. You can visit her at www.charleneallen.com.

#charlene allen #play the game #interviews #young adult books #weneeddiversebooks

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renee-writer · 1 year

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Out of Time Chapter Ninety-nine

AO3

Danny and Murtagh were sent as scouts. Claire and Jamie make quick trips into the woods looking for survivors. They must be quick. Mary offered to feed Juliaellen but… “I thank you, Mary, truly. It is just…”

“I understand. I feel the same way about Alex.”

Jenny and Mary stay in the basement with the children while they are gone.

They walk through, hand in hand. Eyes look for anything out of place, ears strain to hear anything not of nature. They are both anxious to find others and weary.

“More people would be helpful, in everything.”

“It is just can we trust them.” He adds.

“Just so. Trust is a major thing now.”

He grins and moves a branch out of her way. “It always has been. A major thing, I mean.”

She tilts her head, “Of course. Only now it is a matter of life or death.”

He starts to speak and she stops him. She hears something. There is the slightest rustle disturbing the calm of the forest green. They zero in on it.

Carefully he parts the branches while she keeps a gun on the area he is revealing.

“Please don’t shoot!” Her huge eyes meet theirs. She lowers the weapon at seeing the child. No, not quite, a early teen, maybe, stands before then. Ragged and terrified, her body is covered in scratches and bruises. Her hair a tangled mess. Her eyes are haunted. “I can’t run anymore. Are you going to kill me?” The straightforward way she asks tells them that she is at the end of whatever hope she had at first.

“No. Please step out.” Jamie moves back to leave her room. “What’s your name?”

“Charlene, my mates call me Charlie. Or used to.” A deep sigh. She recalls they are all dead. Everyone is.

“I am Jamie and this is my wife, Claire. Are you alone, Charlie?”

“No, my mate is hunting. He is good at it.” Her downward eyes and squirming body tell them she is lying. That and her rail thin body. She hasn’t a decent meal in quite awhile.

“Shall we wait for him then?” Claire watches her reaction. Her squirming increases. “Do you need the loo?”

“No I just…”

“Look Charlie, there is no room for lies here. Secrets aye, but no lies. I know how hard it is to trust. We are the good guys, I swear. I am a doctor, a pediatrician. My wife is a soldier. We have a cabin around a kilometer back. My sister is there with my niece and nephew and our daughter. Another lass with her son and two children who were my patients when this accrued. Two other men are in our group. They are out hunting for a better place to stay. You will be safe with us.”

“We have food and medicine. A safe place to sleep.” Claire adds.

“I’ve nothing to lose. I can’t make it out here anymore.” She fully joins them.

“How old are you Charlie?” Jamie asks as they start moving forward.

“Thirteen. I was at my mates house when it came. She just, you know. Then her parents. I ran, out into it. I wasn’t thinking just knew I had to get to my house. My mum and dad, my brother and sister, I had to see to them.”

They walked, Jamie at point with Charlie right behind him and, Claire guarding the rear. She talks steadily.

“They were gone. I tried to find them, but I knew. I looked all over our village. There was no one. I knew it was the mist. It burned my eyes and throat but, I survived it. There were times, I wished I didn’t. Being alone.

At first, I ate what was left from the empty houses, then what grew in the gardens. I worried that I was the last person on earth then I worried that I wasn’t. I have heard others. I hid from them. They sounded mean. I don’t know why I trust you guys. I guess I figure it doesn’t matter. If you are bad, I don’t care. I am starving.”

“We are not going to hurt you. We are going to feed you and give you a safe place to sleep “

“And see to those scratches.” Jamie adds.

They help her through the hidden fence. She gasps and burst into tears at seeing the cabin. Claire places her arm around her and leads her in. Jamie goes to tell the others about their newest family member as Claire places her by the fire and prepares food for her. She weeps as she eats it.

Water is heated and they wash her off. Clean clothes are found and placed on her. Claire works the tangles out of her hair. All the while, she cries. They know she needs it, to start to work through the horrors she has experienced.

Warm, feed, and clean, she curls on the couch, by the fire, and sleeps. They bring the others up.

#my writing #outlander fanfic #out of time #chapter nintey nine #jamie and claire #cannon divergence #outlander fandom #modern au

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fumikomiyasaki · 1 year

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Hihi!

Can I ask for 25 and 5 with Tiam x Marinus, 10 Charlene x Fabio and 13 and 15 with Momo and Mellow from the physical affection prompt?

Physical Affection prompts

(Only did two sorry)

playfully biting someone giggly cuddles

For once he could escape his dorm and visit NRC by his own... Even if it often intimidated him to go there cause of how many attractive people walked around he was just hopeing to find his boyfriend in his dorm... So Tiam quickly walked around until arriving at Octavinelle... yet as he arrived he was quickly grabbed away by Marinus to his room and nearly trapped in his arms.

"A-ahh... d-don't scare me like that."

"But I was so happy to see you, I had to take you for myself."

Tiam showed him a small flustered smile as Marinus cuddled against him and they both had a light calmer chuckle. "I f-feel glad too.. after Clora caused so much chaos again..."

A small hiss came out of Marinus.

"If she hurts you too much I will...."

"N-no please... we have to deal with it ourself..."

The Siren sighed and pulled Tiam closer, slightly rubbing his hands over his torso making him nervous.

"H-hey..."

"Then I just make my treasure feel special so you stay a little more."

Tiams face grew even redder as Marinus grew really close and left a small bite on his stomach..

"Ahhh..."

"I love your face that nervous really... I think for now you won't be leaving for a while."

"T-that is fine... I r-really do love how much love and pain you give me... so p-please do..."

The Siren looked up surprised but with a bright smile.

"Makes me happy you actually are more brave enough to say that... alright I will spoil you with tons of affection and marks while you are here."

Tiam slightly squirmed feeling his nuzzle his neck but this feeling still felt so much better than all the harsh words his dorm leader threw at him... he felt just cherished.

lifting someone up out of excitement

The tall bunny walked nervous left and right... given he still wanted to keep one tradition from his village on that day he wanted to perform the dance they usually did to honor the forest... so he asked the Relinookton dorm and mostly his girlfriend Charlene if she could recreate the outfits from his village... even if he tried his best to explain it to her he was unsure about the outcome...

After waiting for some time he was led off by some of the other Relinookton members outside to the Island to his confusion...

Eventually walking up to a forest like area where he finally found Charlene... to her surprised however she wore a beautifull dress in a similar style to the villages outfits as well.

His face grew quickly red as he looked at her stunned for a while before he picked her up with a huge smile.

"I can't believe how you outdone y-yourself... you look so beautifull."

"Well... I thought you need a partner to dance... how about you change over there and join me?"

He nodded and Quickly walked off somewhere to change in the outfit she made him and walked towards her... somewhat shy and hesitant as she quickly held his hand to calm him.

"How about you show me how this dance of your village works?"

He nodded and took both her hands, trying to lead her into the steps, even if the foot moves at first were confusing ot her, she quickly adapted and kept up with him... many other dorm members watched them, some throwing flowers petals to give a good atmosphere... Fabios face lit up happier than ever... to feel part of his home yet also the love he has for Charlene... it comforted him... made him feel safe yet glad he left the village.

#twisted wonderland oc #twst ocs #twst oc #disney twst #twst #twisted wonderland original character #twisted wonderland ocs #twisted wonderland #tiam falldow #tiam x marinus #fabio vierunar #fabio x charlene

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andsanctify · 3 months

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j, sugarbaker to mj, shively ( @andimpulsive ) : prompt

hands down this is outright one of the most scandalous things that julia may sugarbaker has ever done in her entire life. taking up an alter ego ? wearing a hair piece ? showing this much leg ? why, if someone had told her last year that she would be spending her free evenings in a jazz club, singing about lovers being entwined - she would've laughed right in their face. yet here she is, applying a last stroke of lipstick, fluffing hair and smoothing out her practically transparent stockings, waiting for her cue to enter. the lights dim, that's when she steps up the side of stage, just out of the spotlight that's focused on the manager currently introducing her. then the lights go out, and she carefully climbs up onto the piano ( she's always been one for dramatic entrances ) the song starts, and she keeps her voice rich and smooth, looking out into the crowd, but the overhead lighting casts a glare, leaving her unaware of the confrontation about to take place.

the roaring cheer that fills the room sets stomach aflutter with adrenaline. she hops down from the piano and takes a bow before beginning her routinely rounds, going table to table. she's just about to turn towards the last one at the back when the manager interrupts her, and when he requests her presence for tomorrows show she feels absolutely chuffed. she's sure it was clearly woven into features, that is until eyes meet a very familiar pair, and she swallows hard - anthony. gaze then darts around the table, and the sudden fear that overwhelms her is confirmed : they're all here. " oh- i- hello. " attempting to keep voice even, it wasn't like she had done anything wrong after all ? then why does she feel like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar ?

explaining herself to them had gone better than anticipated, and it makes her wonder why she had kept this new found part of herself locked away. perhaps it's because it was something that was just her's, something that wouldn't be poked and prodded at, or made the brunt end of a joke. there's a part of her that feels guilty for not feeling guilty about this. she had lied, and that in itself was something she did not do to her friends, but she's been too far entranced by the thrill received from each performing to care. though she does feel remorse for not sharing this little token with mary jo, because she is not just a friend - she is a partner. everyone else has finally gone home, and now it was time to address it with her.

" mary jo, " voice carries that oh so familiar melancholy warmth, the one she uses when she's about to get what she wants. " won't you come sit with me ? " a hand lifts, extending out towards the redhead who remained by the door after charlene's departure. " please ? " word comes out laced in honey and sealed with a bat of eyelashes.

#andimpulsive #` andimpulsive: shively‚ mj.#this got long idk what happened

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graftisms · 1 year

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DANTE & EVIE — DAY FORTY

location : party boat / lower deck

featuring : @inquixotic

DANTE

dante sees evie come down from the upperdeck and moves towards her before he can think twice about it. by now he's come down from the high of kissing charlene and is beginning to see more clearly, realizing his mistake with not speaking to evie first. maybe it should wait until tomorrow, but he doesn't want her to find out without him saying something first (clown emoji). "evie," he greets, coming over to her side. warning bells go off in his head when he can already see she's been crying. uh oh. "are you okay, bella?" concern wracks his tone.

EVIE

coming off her talk with charlene that i don't know how it ends yet, she's still clearly emotional and the tears haven't slowed at all. and, of course, the last person she wants to see is the one who's there, calling her stupid names in italian, like he didn't just ruin the only good thing she thought she could have in here. "don't fucking call me that." she recoils away from him, the concern in his voice, her hands going up with the anger burning hotter at the sight of him. "just don't."

DANTE

it doesn't take a genius to see that evie knows, but that doesn't stop the hurt that flashes in his eyes. "you talked to charlene." not really a question, but dante feels the air sucking out of his lungs. he tries to steady it with a deep breath. "can we talk, please?" he doesn't see why they can't still be friends.

EVIE

she shoves past him to move towards one of the seats, the bar, anywhere where she doesn't have to look at him. "no, we can't fucking talk. you didn't want to talk before you kissed her." he was the one person she trusted with how much she liked charlene other than eden, and he's the reason she's in this position to begin with.

DANTE

"it wasn't going to happen!" he tries to reason with her, following her anyway. "i did not think it would. i didn't want it to until..." he hesitates, not even sure how he can finish it. "i'm sorry, i wanted to talk to you first. it doesn't have to change anything." he genuinely believes it too.

EVIE

she laughs, hurt bleeding through it. he’s saying all this like she hasn’t just lost full trust in him. “you knew how much i like her.” she spins to shove a finger into his chest, stopping suddenly. “you knew and you still did it. the only thing that’s changed is i know you’re not my fucking friend now.”

DANTE

"i know," his voice is small, because it's not like it's untrue. it's not like he hadn't thought about it, either, even if it was only for a moment. "but... i like her too." his confession is equally as quiet, the first time he's really saying it aloud. "that's... that's okay. we don't have to be friends," he swallows thickly, because that's absolutely not what he wants, but dante has never been the type to beg for friendship. "but i don't want to get between you and charlene, evie. you two can still be together."

EVIE

"i don't care." it's not as simple as she makes it seem, though. before now, she would've sworn she wanted dante to be happy, and even still it brings a pang of regret in her, even with how angry she is at him. "if you cared about me at all, you wouldn't have done it. friends don't do that." it's not that simple either, not so black and white, but she can't help it with how angry she is. "you already have, dante." her voice raises, staring at him with incredulity. "you're not fuckin' naive."

DANTE

it's being called naive that makes him flinch, lips rolling to press tightly together. it doesn't seem like there's any getting through to evie, not when she's this angry; the only saving grace is maybe tomorrow things will be less crazy. she'll be able to listen to him. "okay," he says quietly, taking a step back. "i will not bother you. i'm very sorry for hurting you, evie. and for being a bad friend. i... i hope you can forgive charlene. i still think you two should get to know each other."

EVIE

"you're not a bad friend. you're not my friend." she says simply, pausing to turn to look at him, venom dripping from her words. "i hope you're fuckin' miserable. i hope this ruins any fucking chance you had with any of these people. and i'm fucking glad i'll never see you again." and then she continues on her journey to find a producer.

#dante & evie ;#dante ;#dante & evie 003 #i never wanna read this again but i had to post it

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mystacoceti · 1 year

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"WHAT'S GOING ON DOWN THERE?" a voice shouted from the balcony. Everyone turned. I saw a huge black giant of a man, dressed only in white shorts, swaying on the stairs. It was supercargo, the attendant. I hardly recognized him without his hard-starched white uniform. Usually he walked around threatening the men with a strait jacket which he always arrived over his arm, and usually they were quiet and submissive in his presence. But now they seemed not to recognize him and began shouting curses.

"How you gon keep order in the place if you go git drunk?" Halley shouted. "Charlene! Charlene!"

"Yeah?" woman's voice, startling in its carrying power, answered sulkily from a room off the balcony.

"I want you to get that stool-pigeoning, joy-killing, nut-crushing bum back in there with you and sober him up. Then git him in his white suit and down here to keep order. We got white folks in the house."

A woman appeared on the balcony, drawing a woolly pink robe about her. "Now you lissen here, Halley," she drawled, "I'm a woman. If you want him dressed, you can do it yourself. I don't put on but one man's clothes and he's in N'Orleans."

"Never mind all that. Git that stool pigeon sober!"

"I want order down there," Supercargo boomed, "and if there's white folks down there, I wan's double order."

Suddenly there was an angry roar from the men back near the bar and I saw them rush the stairs.

"Get him!"

"Let's give him some order!"

"Out of my way."

Five men charged the stairs. I saw the giant bend a clutch the posts at the top of the stairs with both hands, bracing himself, his body gleaming bare in his white shorts. The little man who had slapped Mr. Norton was in front, and, as he sprang p the long flight, I saw the attendant set himself and kick, catching the little ma just as he reached the top, hard in the chest, sending him backwards in a curving dive into the midst of the men behind him. Supercargo got set to swing his leg again. It was a narrow stair and only one man could get up at a time. As fast as they rushed up, the giant kicked them back. He swung his leg, kicking them down like a fungo-hitter batting out flies. Watching him, I forgot Mr. Norton. The Golden Day was in an uproar. Half-dressed women appeared from the rooms off the balcony. Men hooted and yelled as at a football game.

"I WANT ORDER!" the giant shouted as he sent a man flying down the flight of stairs.

"THEY THROWING BOTTLES OF LIQUOR!" a woman screamed. "REAL LIQUOR!"

"That's a order he don't want," someone said.

A shower of bottles and glasses splashing whiskey crashed against the balcony. I saw Supercargo snap suddenly erect and grab his forehead, his face bathed in whiskey, "Eeeee!" he cried, "Eeeee!" Then I saw him waver, rigid from the ankles upward. For a moment the men on the stairs were motionless, watching him. Then they sprang forward.

Supercargo grabbed wildly at the balustrade as they snatched his feet from beneath hi and started down. His head bounced against the steps making a sound like a series of gunshots as they ran dragging him by his ankles, like volunteer firemen running with a hose. The crowd surged forward. Halley yelled near my ear. I saw the man being dragged toward the center of the room.

"Give the bastard some order!"

"Her I'm forty-five and he's been acting like he's my old man!"

"So you like to kick, huh?" a tall man said, aiming a shoe at the attendant's head. The flesh above his right eye jumped out as though it had been inflated.

Then I heard Mr. Norton beside me shouting, "No, no! Not when he's down!"

"Lissen at the white folks," someone said. "He's the white folks' man!" Men were jumping upon Supercargo with both feet now and I felt such an excitement that I wanted to join them. Even the girls were yelling, "Give it to him good!" "He never pays me!" "Kill him!"

"Please, y'all, not here! Not in my place!"

"You can't speak your mind when he's on duty!"

"Hell, no!"

Somehow I got pushed away from Mr. Norton and found myself beside the man called Sylvester.

"Watch this, school-boy," he said. "See there, where his ribs are bleeding?" I nodded my head. "Now don't move your eyes."

I watched the spot as though compelled, just beneath the lower rib and above the hip-bone, as Sylvester measured carefully with his toe and kicked as though he were punting a football. Supercargo let out a groan like an injured horse.

"Try it, school-boy, it feels so good. It gives you relief," Sylvester said. "Sometimes I get so afraid of him I feel that he's inside my head. There!" he said, giving Supercargo another kick.

As I watched, a man sprang on Supercargo's chest with both feet and he lost consciousness. They began throwing cold beer on him, reviving him, only to kick him unconscious again. Soon he was drenched in blood and beer.

"The bastard's out cold."

"Throw him out."

"Naw, wait a minute. Give me a hand somebody."

They threw him upon the bar, stretching him out with his arms folded across his chest like a corpse.

"Now, let's have a drink!"

from Invisible Man, Ralph Ellison

#pearl diver

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bettyfrommars · 1 year

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I'm on Fire//biker!Eddie x fem!artist!Reader//Part 11

18+Only, pls no minors, jealous!Eddie, biker!Steve, possessiveness, mention of violence, alcohol consumption, mention of sex, rich people being rich, celebrity sighting, reader wears a dress and heels (for the sake of this story, please pretend that designers made dresses for all sizes in the 90's), dirty deeds, mention of an abusive relationship, being in love. Word count: 8.4k

Summary: As Eddie falls for you more and more, his jealousy comes to the surface. You have a scare as something reminds you of a bad relationship from your past, and you go out to dinner with a potential client, forcing Eddie to profess his feelings as he struggles with the fear of losing you. Steve is offered a new job opportunity that sounds almost too good to be true.

Series Masterlist

A/N: It's been a long time coming 🙃 I am worried that writing the next chapter might get me pregnant. Your comments/messages about this story mean everything to me, and this story wouldn't even exist without the love you've shown it. Thank you, I love you.

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I'm on Fire Part 11: No Ordinary Love

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Eddie showed up at the Velvet Hammer while you were working that night to make the non-verbal announcement that you were his girl to anyone who might not know it yet, and you took your break so he could fill you in on some of the drama with Steve. He sucked down two cigarettes in the span of 15 minutes, and you could tell that the stress was getting to him.

“Poor Robin,” your eyes glazed over a bit as you stared at the ground, your heart hurting. “She must be a wreck.”

Eddie nodded as he blew smoke to the side. “This isn’t even about Oliver, that greedy bitch just wants more money.”

You searched his face, trying to understand. “You mean, she doesn’t want Oliver in her life?”

Eddie shot the corners of his mouth down in a frown as he flicked ash to the pavement. “Hell no. Steve basically has to pay her off every now and then just so she will leave them alone,” and then Eddie’s eyes narrowed at the empty space in front of him. “No one is taking Oliver away, I can promise you that.”

Eddie stepped back to look you up and down, licking his lips, bucking his chin. “Has anyone tried to hit on you tonight?”

“Eddie…” you sighed and rolled your eyes a little.

“I’m serious,” he finished his cig and threw it to the ground. “I don’t want any of these fuckers thinking they can touch you.”

“Baby,” you wrapped your arms around him and put your head to his chest. “It’s just a job, and no one gets to touch me but you.”

“That’s fucking right,” he murmured, bending his head to kiss you. You still didn’t know that Charlene was the reason you lost the job you loved as a gallery director, and keeping that from you continued to gnaw at him.

He grabbed your chin to force your gaze up to meet his. “I’m dead serious, babe. It’s a respect thing. If anyone crosses a line with you in here, I’ll find out about it, and I’ll break their fucking hand.”

He wasn’t trying to scare you, personally, but his tone was intense, and a drastic change to how he normally spoke to you.

“I know, baby,” you answered in a whisper, suddenly feeling a damp heat between your thighs at his possessiveness over you.

The outfit you were wearing must’ve been turning him on too, because he groaned against your mouth, pulling your hips against his, not caring that the friction shot a ripple of pain into his stab wound.

“You’re gonna make me go back into work all turned on, babe,” you breathed between kisses. You slipped your hands around his ribs under the warmth of his leather.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, fingers digging into your thighs. “I’m about to take you right here. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

You pulled back to search his face, your brows knitting together. “Yeah, why have we been waiting?”

Eddie picked up the back of your skirt so that his middle finger could rub your slit over your underwear while he palmed your ass and it made you whimper. “I wanted it to be...special, I guess,” he admitted, brushing your lips with his, his finger teasing the soft skin at your underwear line.

“You just got stabbed, baby. I don’t want you to---”

“Shhhhhhh,” he said, rubbing his nose against yours. “It’s not my first stab wound baby, and it won’t be my last.”

“Wait,” you put your hand on his chest. “Is that supposed to comfort me?”

Just then the door to the bar flew open with a bang, like someone had kicked it, Sex on Wheelz by My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult blasting into the alleyway, and Eddie did quick work of moving in front of you, blocking your raised skirt from view while you adjusted yourself, and he was glaring at whoever it was.

Jackie stepped out with a Pall Mall between her lips, and paused to shoot the two of you a curious look, wiggling her brows. “What’s been going on out here, kids? None of that hanky panky, I hope.”

----------

A day later, there was a very familiar hunter green SUV parked outside of your place when you rolled around the corner to park in the driveway after some grocery shopping. It as a fairly popular model, and so you didn’t think much of it until you saw that the plates were from Michigan---the state you’d lived in until a year ago when you finally accepted Katie’s invitation to move in with her.

A freezing cold flush of blood burst through your veins as you sat in your car, afraid to get out.

The fear that your ex-fiance Craig would find you and come knocking on your door one day never left you, but your defenses had been lowering as you got comfortable in Hawkins; maybe you’d gotten too comfortable. Maybe you hadn’t covered your tracks enough and someone from your past had told him where you were.

Everything you’d been through in the past few weeks, and now this? You were actually too petrified to move, thinking maybe it was better to start your car up and drive away. But, if he knew where you lived, you would never be free of him. You’d have to get another restraining order, which never did any good anyway. You might even have to move again.

Tears threatened behind your eyes, as adrenaline pumped through you, but then you glanced up and saw Katie come around the corner of the house with an older woman in a floral pantsuit and a bob of gray hair.

Katie paused, and bent down to give you a questioning look, wondering why you were still sitting in your car, lurking. You watched the gray haired woman walk over to the SUV and unlock it with her key, as a gust of stale air escaped your chest with a hiss.

The hunter green SUV belonged to another teacher from the school, Ms. Olsen, and later on, once you were in the house, you told Katie about your moment of panic.

“God,” she was perched on the arm of the sofa. “You really think that piece of shit would go through that much trouble to find you? And then drive all the way out here?”

“In a heartbeat,” you said, pressing your dry lips together. “But, as far as Craig knows, I moved to Oregon to live near my mom, so Hawkins would be completely off his radar. I hope so, anyway.”

Katie stood up. “Well, thankfully it was just a scare. Holy shit, by the look on your face I thought you caught Eddie with another girl again or something.”

You huffed a heavy breath as you dropped your bag onto the side table. “Yeah, I still have the photos. Maybe we should have them framed or something. To remember the good ol’ times.”

“I’m taking Robin out for happy hour to try and get her mind off of things,” Katie called to you as she opened the refrigerator and bent in to grab a soda. She was on her lunch break and on her way back to the school. “Do you want to come with? Just us girls? Steve has Ollie at the tattoo shop with him.”

You declined the offer only because you still needed to call John Gregson, and you wanted to catch him during office hours.

It took a while to get beeped through to his personal secretary, but when she finally took your call, she told you that Mr. Gregson was out of the office, but that she would get a message to him for you. Her snobby tone gave you the feeling that she was going to throw your message in the trash the second you hung up, but not five minutes later---he called you back.

“Hey there,” he beamed. You could hear him smiling through the phone. “I’m sorry my secretary made you wait. I told her to patch you through to my personal line next time.”

“I’m surprised you even remembered my name,” you were standing at the counter in front of a pad of paper with a pen in your hand just in case you needed to write anything down.

You’d be lying if you said the first few minutes of the conversation were completely innocent and did not dabble in flirtation. Your loyalty to Eddie was deep, but kindling a bit of a friendship with John was a necessary evil for the time being. A couple thousand dollars for a painting and a chance to let Charlene know you had tricks too? Priceless.

While he was letting you know what size canvas he wanted and some prominent color choices, you drifted off a bit, wondering if John knew about Charlene’s affair. Affairs, plural? You did not get the sense that he was at all lacking in cognitive function, and since he was such a successful business man, you assumed he could read people pretty well.

“Are you free for dinner tonight?”

He had to repeat it because your mind had gone rogue.

“Dinner? Tonight?” He continued. “With me.”

You had zero romantic feelings for John—your heart was very much engaged elsewhere---so you could shrug it off as a platonic business deal. But, you also couldn’t help but wonder how your newly christened boyfriend Eddie would feel about it. Appearances aside, he had to understand that, much like the guys you were nice to at the Velvet Hammer---it was just a job. Plus, John was very openly married, and attempting a blatant affair with you wouldn’t be a bright move.

Still, it felt like he was asking you on date.

“I could come to your office tomorrow? I’m free all day.” You offered.

“I won’t be in the office tomorrow, I’m flying to Boston for the rest of the week, but I could pick you up later today around 7:00?” He sounded humble, but at the same time very sure of himself. “You see, there is this new restaurant on the lake with a collection of artwork I’d think you’d enjoy. We could talk about the commission there in a more relaxed setting.”

You swallowed. He was very persuasive, you’d give him that. You knew the exact restaurant he was talking about; Sakura Black was owned by a movie star who had a vacation home in town. It was strictly reservation only and you’d always wanted to see what it was like on the inside. There was a private airport nearby and helicopter pad on the roof for the wealthy elite to pop over from the city for dinner to enjoy “small town life”.

You gnawed at your bottom lip for a few seconds, doodling frantic circles all over the pad of paper with your pen, and then you accepted.

“Well, you just made my day,” John told you.

After you hung up the phone, your hand stayed on the receiver, and you said, “fuck,” under your breath.

--------

“What do you mean he asked you out to dinner? You mean, like a date?” Eddie asked gruffly.

Eddie was in his coveralls with an over sized wrench in his hand with grease smeared across his cheek and thighs. You showed up at the garage about an hour after you’d talked to John, feeling like this was a conversation that needed to happen in person.

He frowned as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the desk in the office. His new part time helper Dana had just left and Wayne was away having one of his chemo treatments. He was leaning away from you, teeth grinding, jaw muscles flexing, as he absorbed the news. He had been damn near giddy when he saw you park and walk over; eagerly pulling your mouth to his as a smile stretched his lips. “Damn, I’ve missed my girl,” he’d murmured as he nuzzled your nose, and then the three other mechanics behind him started whistling and shouting, “get a room!” To which Eddie grabbed your hand and flipped them off.

“It’s not a romantic date, baby. He just wants to talk about this commission I’m going to do for him,” you soothed, giving him space as you rested your shoulder against the green metal door.

“Sure he does,” Eddie chided. But then he sucked his teeth and tried to cool the hot emotions that were bubbling up. “What did you say his name was?”

This was the even trickier part.

You sighed and rubbed your fingers across your forehead before you met his gaze again. “His name is John. John Gregson.”

Eddie snorted and turned on his heel, rubbing his hands down his face. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, babe. Please tell me you’re joking?” After keeping his back to you for a bit, shoulders tight, he finally turned around to face you and tapped the desk with his knuckle as he spoke. “You know who he is, right? Who he’s married to?”

You nodded as you gazed at the scuffed toes of his boots and the frayed ends of his coveralls where they sat at his laces.

Eddie gave a few slow blinks, spreading his fingers on the desk to brace himself as he leaned. “I don’t feel good about this, babe. I don’t want you alone with this guy.”

You did your best to explain the situation to him, going all the way back to when John purchased some art from an outdoor festival you participated in a few years ago, to how he recognized you at the Velvet Hammer, and then Steve giving you his card to hopefully bring some money your way.

Eddie waited, but his expression of doubt stayed the same. “Listen,” he ran the tip of his tongue over his top lip and came a bit closer to you, crossing his arms again. “I appreciate that you told me. But you don’t know these people, baby. They are rich and they are mean. They don’t care who they hurt, as long as they get what they want at the end of the day. John might seem like a decent dude, but I’d bet money that he’s no different.”

As Eddie said it, he knew there was a lot of his ego involved in trying to talk you out of it. It was his fault you lost the job as a gallery director—a job that you loved---and he wondered if he was being selfish in trying to keep you from whatever amount of money you could get from what’s his name. The last thing he wanted to do was push you away, and if anything could, it would be his jealousy. He was sure it had pushed people away in the past.

Eddie bowed his head, and you moved into his orbit, tugging his crossed arms down so he would lower them and let you in. “I’m fucking filthy, baby,” he said as you put your head to his chest and wrapped your arms around him. He placed his cheek on the top of your head. You nuzzled him, inhaling the scent of car exhaust and motor oil and the earthy soft undertones of his warm skin.

“Oh, god, don’t I know it,” you teased, pinching a handful of his ass.

He barked a low laugh despite himself and tightened his arms around you. “You make me this way.”

You swayed there together for a bit before he huffed out a heavy breath. “So, what time is your date?” He bit out the word ‘date’ so hard, his jaw clicked.

You pushed off of him, exasperated, and slightly offended. “Baby, it’s not a date. He doesn’t mean anything to me, it’s just like a…business thing. You know how much I love---”

But then the rest of it kind of choked in your throat, and you doubted yourself, and you clamped your mouth shut to keep any more from escaping. You didn’t doubt your feelings for him, but you doubted that blurting it out in that moment was the right thing to do.

Both of you were simultaneously paranoid that you’d scare the other one off by being too blunt about your feelings. Why? Because any time you had confessed your feelings to someone in the past, they either ruined your life or left you; there was no happy medium.

“Yeah? You love what?” Eddie waited, searching your face, interlacing his fingers with yours, anticipation burning in his chest.

You started to fidget under his intense gaze, shifting your attention around the room. “I-I love your stupid face.”

He squeezed your hand, and leaned in to press his lips flush against your ear, his warm breath making you shiver. “Ditto, babe.”

--------

Eddie was not smiling when you left the garage. You told him all of the details, including what time you were being picked up, the name of the restaurant (he rolled his eyes), and you told him you’d call the second you got home.

“Or, call me from the restaurant if he gets handsy or some stupid shit,” he added with a frown. “It would be my pleasure to go to jail for bouncing that clown into next week.”

You did all you could to comfort him, but at the end of the day, he was a grown man who needed to understand that you were excited for not only the money, but for the opportunity to be doing what you loved again. You felt like you’d lost your spark lately and you were anxious to get it back.

It was around 4 o’clock when you pulled up to the curb at the chocolate brown duplex with white trim that you shared with Katie. From behind the wheel, you spotted what looked like a big, flat white box with a string tied in a bow at the top. As you got closer, with your keys and bag in your hand, you realized there was a fancy note card on it addressed to you.

You put it on the island in the kitchen and started at it while your tongue slid across your teeth in contemplation. The store on the tag was from a French boutique in Chicago that you had never heard of in your life.

The inside of the card said: “I forgot to ask if you had something casual but elegant for tonight. See you at 7:00 -- J.”

Once you opened the lid of the box and pulled the tissue paper back, you let out a small gasp at the Dolce & Gabbana label staring you in the face. It was simple black dress with red lining, knee length but with a high slit up the leg, strapless, and there was a black choker and heels to match.

You hated to admit it, but perhaps Eddie’s read on John had been a tad on-the-nose.

--------

“Whoa there Julia Roberts,” Katie joked as you walked out to the living room at 6:45, trying to steady yourself on your new heels. “Is Richard Gere picking you up or what?”

Robin was there too and she spun around on the couch to whistle at you. “Good god, woman, Eddie should see you now. He’d blow a gasket.”

Under your breath you responded, “maybe, but not for the reason you’d think.”

Katie rested her hip on the back of the couch and combed her fingers through Robin’s hair as she raised her eyebrow at you. “Where are you going looking like a stick of dynamite? You look too nice for the Hammer.”

You opened your clutch to make sure you had the necessities. “I’m going to dinner with a potential client who wants to commission a painting,” you were withholding the bigger truth because you wanted to avoid getting into a discussion about it. “It’s not a big deal, I should be home in a few hours.”

Robin and Katie exchanged a look.

They did make sure to peak through the blinds when your ride arrived, though, and saw that it wasn’t just any old ride: it was a sleek, black Rolls-Royce, complete with chauffeur, and the man who got out to open the door for you was unarguably handsome and dapper. Salt n’ Pepper hair that was thick and a little wavy on top, tan skin, and what appeared to be an expensive, tailored suit. Once you had slipped into your seat behind the dark tinted windows, the man actually glanced up and caught the two girls watching, to which he gave a charming smile and a wave.

“THAT’S the client she’s going to dinner with?” Katie balked, realizing there was a lot you weren’t telling her. “He looks like Robert fucking Redford.”

“Oh, shit,” Robin whispered, her chin on Katie’s shoulder. “I think I know who that is. I can’t remember his name, but his face is always in the paper. Pretty sure he owns most of this town.”

You braced your hands on the smooth leather seat on either side of your hips as John found his place next to you and offered you a glass of champagne. “Or sparkling water, or gin, if you prefer?”

“Champagne sounds great,” you said with a quiver on your lips. You were too intimidated to admit you’d never been in a Rolls-Royce before, or any car worth its value.

He popped the cork and poured you a glass flute, his eyes covertly flashing to your legs as he worked. “I’m happy to see the dress fit. It looks like it was made for you.”

You cleared your throat as he passed your beverage over. “I’m nervous to spill on it. I think it costs more than my car.”

John smiled against the rim of his glass as he spoke. “If anything happens to it, we’ll just buy you another one,” he assured you with a wink.

----------

Around the same time you found the dress on your porch earlier that day, Steve picked up the phone at the shop after three rings, just before the machine was about to get it. He was in the middle of working on matching ankle tattoos for two sisters, and Oliver was at his special kid-sized plastic desk in the corner scrawling with crayons in a coloring book. Molly, the tattoo artist he rented a chair from was deeply absorbed in getting the lines in for a huge back piece on a client and she begged him to get it while Feel the Pain by Dinosaur Jr played in the background over the buzzing of a tattoo gun.

“Cutthroat Tattoo, this’s Steve,” his voice was a bit gruff, but he didn’t mean for it to be. It had been nonstop all day and the phone was ringing off the hook.

“You’re a hard man to track down,” the confident woman on the other end cooed. “Do you have a second? Is this a bad time?”

“Yeah, it is a bad time. Who’s this?” Steve frowned, running his thumb along the edge of the counter.

“I’m the one who bailed you out of jail,” she answered, with a hint of laughter in her voice.

Steve frowned even harder, walking further away from the customers so that he as at the corner of the desk against the wall. His mind was racing because he didn’t recognize the voice. Was it someone he fucked recently and forgot about? In that case, it was the least he could do to remember her name, but nothing was coming to him.

“Sweetheart, I’d love to thank you properly, but I still have no idea who you are,” he braced his hand high on the wall, his back muscles and tattoos visible under his thin wife beater. “Can I have a clue?”

She continued to ignore his question. “If you’re interested I might have a job for you. It pays well, and it will only be a couple hours out of your day.”

He dropped his hand from the wall and slipped it into his arm pit. “How much is ‘well’?”

She told him it would be a couple grand for a few hours, and he almost said yes before he even asked what the job even was.

“What’s the catch, baby?” He was still under the assumption that this was someone he had carnal knowledge of, and not a complete stranger. “Cause my days of being a high paid assassin are behind me.”

“Oh no, nothing like that,” she purred. “It’s just that I’m going to an event in a couple days and I need to hire a body guard to be my escort.”

Steve scoffed at the simplicity of what she was asking. “That’s all? Sweetheart, I’m your man.”

“I knew you were the right man for the job,” she praised.

“Hey,” he turned to give the woman in his chair a silent wink and thumbs up to let her know he’d be right there. “You still haven’t told me your name. I’m good with faces, darlin’, but voices? Not so much.”

“You can call me Char,” she told him, giving him her phone number. He took the cap off a pen with his teeth and ripped out a page from the phone book to write it down. “Give me a call when you’re done and we can work out the details.”

Char...Char...Steve’s mind raced with who that might be. But, damn all he could think of was how nice it would be to get his hands on that money. They’d been living paycheck to paycheck for a while now, and it would be nice to put a little extra in the bank so he could breathe for a fucking second. Body guard gigs were a piece of cake, and hell, if she wanted to pay him to have sex with her he might even agree to that as well, depending on what she was offering. Now, with Tina sniffing around again, he was on edge every second, and not sure if she really wanted to be in Oliver’s life, in which case he’d need to pay out the ass to hire a lawyer, or if she just wanted to squeeze his balls for more dough.

He couldn’t wait to brag to Eddie how mysterious women were stumbling over themselves to pay his bail and his bills.

--------

John made small talk with you as the driver, who was behind a black tinted partition, maneuvered the car up through the woods toward the lake. You passed a few MC members cruising along with the wind in their faces, and your heart stuck in your throat, hoping one of them were Eddie. Even Steve or Thumper would’ve been a welcome sight in that moment.

John was a gentleman, from what you could tell, and he was doing everything he could to make you comfortable, but you still felt terribly out of place; both in body and soul. To make matters worse, you were already missing Eddie. You realized that you could’ve gone to be with him that night instead, and the weight of your choice made your heart heavy. The song No Ordinary Love by Sade dripped softly from the speaker near your leg and it drowned out John’s voice for a few seconds as you thought about the beautiful, loving man you’d left waiting for you at home.

A magic, purple dusk exploded over the lake, between the trees as John came around to open your door and extend his hand for you to take.

“I don’t think I said it yet,” the side of his mouth lifted in a grin. He smelled like spices and expensive, Italian leather. “But you look absolutely stunning tonight.”

You rolled your shoulders and did the best to put all of your weight on the balls of your feet as you adjusted to the heels. He extended the crook of his arm to you and you took it, feeling like you were on some strange prom date.

Ahead of you was a walkway that led through a Japanese-style garden with a large Koi pond, on the way to a long, wide ranch-style building with gold lanterns dangling from the roof.

Sakura Black was known for it’s Japanese and Asian fusion cuisine. You’d only read about it in magazines, of course, and so it was a treat to see it all up close.

There was tight security from the time your chauffeur let you out at the curb to where you entered the building. A handful of muscular guys whose shoulders looked too big for their suit jackets, and whose necks were wider than their heads, talked to each other through ear pieces with dramatically serious faces, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think they were with the FBI or Secret Service. John didn’t even have to acknowledge them; they instantly ushered him through because they clearly recognized him.

You knew it was no secret that John was married, and you wondered what people thought your relationship was with him. Did they think you were one of his mistresses? Or was it a regular occurrence for him to bring young women there for dinner to talk over business deals? You honestly had no idea if you looked like a lucky girl or a fool to them.

Inside, the décor was warm tones and sharp edges; industrial design, with a pristine air of perfection and minimalism. You were a bit shocked when you realized that it made you miss the chaotic, clammy, nicotine saturated air of the Velvet Hammer.

The host with the wire rimmed glasses saw you and John coming, and got a bit flustered, before he stole himself for a proper greeting. “Your table is waiting, Mr. Gregson,” he extended his arm, encouraging you both to follow him down three steps to the main dining floor. There were solid windows along the back wall for a view of the lake at dusk, and the place was dimly lit, almost too dim for you to see if there were any celebrities in the crowd as you tried to scan around without moving your head. Soft murmuring voices heard over metal clinking on ceramic as waiters brought flaming dishes out on rolling carts.

John’s table was down close to one of the windows; there were two tealights burning in glass bubbles, and a bottle of red wine at the ready. You slipped free of John’s arm so that the host could pull your chair out for you, and you just so happened to move back two steps too many and you bumped into someone.

You both turned around at the same time to gush your apologies, and that was when you realized that the person you’d just smacked into was, in fact, the actor Richard Gere himself.

--------

Eddie was restless. He took a shower, and then nearly wore a hole in the floor from pacing.

He should’ve told you he didn’t want you to go. He should’ve told you...how he felt about you. God, was it too late? What if you realized that having an affair with with a rich dude was just what you needed? It would take away all of your stress, and you could stop working your ass off at the Velvet Hammer. It would help your art career, and you’d never have to worry about money. Surely, John Gregson was intelligent, well-spoken, successful—the type of man you deserved to be with. Since you met Eddie, your life had fallen into chaos and damn near poverty. In fact, the more he thought about it, what the hell did you even seen in him anyway?

He fully intended to wait by the phone until you called, but the minutes felt like hours, and he decided to take a ride over to Steve’s house for some company. Steve was still at the shop, but Robin had just arrived home after picking up Oliver, and it was a much needed distraction from his intrusive thoughts.

He read Oliver a bedtime story (it was coincidentally also one of his favorites: Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs) while Robin put away the dishes, and then the two adults had a beer out on the patio under dim yellow light where insects tapped and buzzed.

One sip and Robin sat up in her chair, regarding him with wide eyes. “Hold on, I almost forgot to tell you how hot your woman looked tonight. Wowza!”

Eddie’s beer paused halfway to his mouth and his smile dropped.

Robin licked her bottom teeth as she grinned, bending her knee to put her foot on the chair. “She was gorgeous, but also very sophisticated and elegant. Total show-stopper. You would’ve been on your knees.”

Eddie was gripping his beer can so tight, he crushed it a bit, forcing liquid to spurt out of the top.

“Yeah, how long ago was that?” Eddie asked in a mumble.

“How long was what? When I saw your girl? Um, maybe an hour ago. I left right after to pick Ollie up.”

Robin started talking about the whole mess with Tina, and a few minutes in, Eddie got to his feet. “I gotta go, Rob. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Thanks for the beer.”

“You have to go...right now? Seriously dude?” She balked. But Eddie was already grabbing his leather and taking long strides around the house to where he parked the chopper.

Robin sighed heavily into the mouth of her beer just before taking a few large gulps.

--------

Richard Gere reached out and put his palm on your elbow. “Are you okay? I didn’t meant to bulldoze into you like that.”

You were understandably speechless for a moment, mouth agape, as you looked from his face to the other people at his table. A part of you hoped to see Cindy Crawford there, but then you remembered they’d been divorced for a couple years. There were two other people with him: an older gentleman you did not recognize, and a woman who could’ve very well been a runway model.

You were about to speak when John came up behind you, resting his hand at your lower back. “Richard,” John greeted as they both shook hands. They knew each other? John introduced you. “This is that talented painter I was telling you about. I’m commissioning a piece for our lake house.”

Richard regarded you with invested interested. “A-ha, that’s right. I’d love to see your work. Do you have a card?”

“I don’t have one with me, but I---” you stammered, disbelief clouding your cognitive functions.

John’s hand made circles on your back as he spoke. “I’ll have my secretary send over her information tomorrow,” he told Richard.

Once the two of you were finally scooting into your table, John raised his eyebrow. “Richard’s a good friend, and an avid art collector. He loves finding new talent, that’s why I told him about you.”

Your heart raced as you put your napkin in your lap. Your seat faced the entrance where you’d just come in, and the side of Richard. He turned and winked at you as he put his hand onto the leg of the supermodel next to him.

The menu items didn’t have any prices on them, except for the wine list which had some going for hundreds of dollars. It made you gulp. You could probably live for a month on what these people were paying for one dinner.

“Is it okay if I order for you?” John asked, small, tortoise shell readers as the end of his nose. You were more than grateful for that suggestion, and he didn’t seem at all bothered when you said you were a vegetarian. Your waiter poured the wine, John started with appetizers, and the two of you proceeded to stick to the topic of business, and what he was hoping for in the artwork for his den.

It started to be less and less like a date and more like dinner with a friend, which made you feel a whole lot better about everything. You wondered what the story was between John and Charlene: how they met, how they fell in love, how they grew so far apart. There was probably someone there in the crowd who would see the two of you together and report back to Charlene. Would she even care?

Also, you really missed Eddie. You watched John hold his hands out in front of him, explaining a piece of art he bought while he was in Italy, with the romantic lake as a backdrop, and all you could think about was how you’d rather be kissing Eddie in the alley behind the Velvet Hammer, surrounded by the smell of rotting trash.

John expressly told the waiter to let the chef know which substitutions they required for your dietary needs, and he ordered another bottle of wine. You were watching him pour it when, several tables down, you spotted a waiter who you swore was your previous work colleague, Jeff. Just then, the guy with the golden blonde hair locked eyes with you at the same time and a wild look flashed across his face before he regained his composure and finished taking the order at the table he was at.

“Excuse me for just a moment?” You said to John as you got up from the table and placed your napkin on your seat. “I need to….” what was the phrase again? You couldn’t tell him you needed to use the toilet, that was vulgar. “...to go to the powder room. I’ll be right back.”

You made your way along the main floor and then up the steps, making eye contact with Jeff and motioning covertly for him to follow you. Jeff jerked his head, motioning you in the other direction, down between the bar and the kitchen. You both did good work of keeping your composure until you were hidden and out of ear shot.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Jeff blurted, bouncing on the balls of his feet a bit.

“Um, I was about to ask you the same thing? Hello? You quit the gallery?” You exchanged a hug as you talked.

“Yeah, fuck that place,” Jeff adjusted the front of his shirt. “Besides you would not believe the celebrity sightings here. I’m gonna get swept off my feet soon.”

“Yeah no kidding,” you agreed in a whisper. “Richard Gere is basically sitting at our table.”

You were both speed-talking because neither one had much time.

“Who is that hot daddy you’re with?” Jeff asked.

“You’ll never believe it.”

“Try me?”

“It’s Charlene Gregson’s husband,” you said, exposing your lower teeth in a cringe.

Jeff made his mouth into an exaggerated “O” shape. “Girl, you have a lot of explaining to do. Why didn’t you call me?”

“Why didn’t you call ME?”

One of the other servers walked by and you hugged again, agreeing adamantly to meet up for cocktails as you wiggled fingers at each other to say farewell. You came up into the reception area, about to turn and make your way back down to the restaurant, when a deep voice made you freeze in your tracks.

“Hey.” It was Eddie.

---------

Eddie didn’t have a plan, he was just going. His hair flew in the wind, his hands twisting high up on the ape hanger handlebars, thundering along the winding mountain road like the devil was on his heels.

Sure, the restaurant you were at had tight security, but half of them were buddies of his. Plus, he wouldn’t have given a shit if he had to take them all on. In fact, bashing some heads in would’ve felt pretty fucking good in that moment.

He told Mick and Angus at the gate that he was there to cover for one of the guys, and they let him him right in; engine revving as the chopper crawled up the driveway and found a place right next to a red Ferrari. He ran his hand through his hair, rings clicking together as he swung his leg off the bike, adjusting his Coffin Kings leather cut over his plain white tee, exposing the tattoos from his neck to fingers. The black jeans he had on did not have holes in them but still—he was vastly under dressed for this crowd. God, he secretly hoped someone had the guts to try and throw him out; that would be fun.

He walked up to Rodney—a big dude with most of his dark hair in a buzz cut, but for the 5 inch long rat tail at the back---and offered him a smoke. Rodney had to wear his shirt buttoned at the collar and at his wrists to hide all of his tattoos. There were two other square-head dudes in suits positioned at the door, but Eddie didn’t know them.

He pointed his chin at the two in question, exhaling smoke. “Will I get any trouble from those two if I go in?”

Rodney wiped his nose with his thumb as his cheeks caved in for another drag. “Nah, they don’t mess with the Kings, man. They’re just gym bros. Say ‘boo’ and they’ll piss themselves.”

He made small talk for another minute or two, and then tossed his smoke when it was only halfway finished.

The two at the door moved immediately for Eddie, just as Rodney suggested they would. They even bowed their heads a bit, as if he were some type of mystical royalty.

The guy at the reception desk forgot to blink when he looked up at him, wondering if he should call the police or scream, but Eddie raised his hand with a partial smile, letting him know he didn’t want any trouble. “I’m just checking to see if someone is here,” he let him know. “It’s an emergency.”

“How about I check for you?” The guy in the wire-rimmed glasses asked nervously, shuffling papers. “Can I have a name?”

“No,” Eddie answered bluntly as he kept walking.

He stepped beyond a black partition to where he had a view of the lake windows and the people dining down below.

And then there you were.

Looking like a million bucks and then some. As confident as he’d been entering the building, now butterflies were exploding in his stomach and his face flushed with heat. If he didn’t know you, he’d be too nervous to even speak to you. You had always been way out of his league, but the way you looked that night really solidified the fact.

“Hey,” he said.

----------

“Eddie?” You stopped and looked around, not sure what was happening. “Baby, what are you doing here?”

You grabbed his hand and took him around the other side of the partition so that you weren’t right out in plain sight.

Eddie looked you up and down. “Did he buy you that dress?”

You only swallowed, and your silence said it all.

You took hold of his forearm, trying to meet his shifting gaze. “I promised you I’d call when I got home, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”

He’d rehearsed the words over and over on the ride there, but now they might as well have been a foreign language.

Eddie cast his gaze beyond you to all of the people eating their dinner as he shifted his jaw from side to side. “Did you tell him you have a boyfriend? Maybe I should introduce myself.”

“Baby, baby, baby, look at me,” you coaxed; one finger hooked in his belt loop and one guiding his face so that he’d look at you. His skin was hot, like he had a temperature. “I can’t do this with you right now. Please. You’re stressing me out. I’ll come by your place as soon as I’m done here, okay?”

Eddie knew he was blowing it. Internally, he tried that little meditation trick when you count back from ten or whatever the fuck, and he took a deep breath, but it didn’t help.

He kissed your forehead. “I’m sorry,” he sucked his plump bottom lip into his teeth, biting down. “You’re just...so beautiful.”

You rose up to kiss his lips, and then you squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll call you once I’m home, and then I’ll come over okay? I promise.”

Eddie nodded as you got further away from him, so far that you finally had to let go of his hand as your reach stretched to its limit. After you made your way down the couple of steps, you turned around to make eye contact with him again, but he was looking down.

Once you got back to the table, you stretched your neck up to check, and you didn’t see him standing in the same spot anymore, so you let out a relieved sigh. Your meals were on the table, and you apologized for taking so long. “I ran into a friend,” you told John.

After a bit more conversation and a couple bites of food, you glanced over to see that Jeff was shuffling his way over to your table. The smile he had pressed across his face was not reaching his eyes as he came up beside you and John.

He asked your name, as if he didn’t know it. “There is a...telephone call for you. Follow me please?”

You exchanged a look with John as you finished chewing your food and pushed your chair out. You excused yourself, again.

“Take your time,” John called to you as you followed behind Jeff.

Jeff did not take you to a telephone; he motioned for you to follow him around the other side of the bar, to a narrow hallway hidden behind a black velvet curtain. The sounds of the shouts and pans clinking in the kitchen were clear as day.

There was Eddie, waiting with his arms crossed. Jeff patted your hand as he left you there and walked away.

“Baby what...” your shoulders dropped, exasperated.

“Hold up, wait,” Eddie put his hand out. “I have something to say, and then you can go back to doing...whatever.”

You leaned against the door that said EXIT above it in orange letters. You really just wanted to get this dinner over so you could, indeed, be with Eddie again, but he was intent on dragging it out.

Eddie cast his gaze to the floor, hooking his thumbs into his front belt loops. “Listen, I know I don’t deserve you, okay?”

“Eddie---”

“Shhhh,” he whispered. “Let me finish.”

You blinked and nodded, trying to be patient.

“So, I know I don’t have a lot right now, but one day I will. I’ll be comfortable at least. I’m not going to be in that apartment over the garage forever. I’ve made investments, I have some plans,” his eyes flicked to yours only briefly. “I’ve got enough money saved right now, what if I commission a painting from you? I can pay you whatever this dickhead is offering.”

You opened your mouth to speak but then--

He put his hand at your waist, urging you closer. “I wanna be the one you come to, baby. I want to take care of you. I will, if you’ll just let me.”

You couldn’t look at him for some reason, tears pooled at your lash line, and a lump lodged in your throat, your lip quivering. You’d been taking care of yourself for so long, you hadn’t realized how nice it would sound for someone to offer such a thing

The tip of his tongue came out to wet his bottom lip, and he slid his hand up along the side of your face, urging your eyes to meet his. “All I wanna do is make you happy and keep you safe,” his thumb brushed across the side of your mouth. “You’re everything to me, baby. I just wanna know that you’re mine.”

“But I am yours,” your voice squeaked as you sniffed back pending tears.

“Yeah, well, there’s something else,” Eddie’s heart rate quickened. He stepped forward to close the distance between the two of you and touched his forehead to yours briefly.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” he continued, swallowing hard. Your wet eyes were possibly contagious because his chocolate eyes were glistening now too. “But I’m just so fucking in love with you that I don’t know what to do with myself. I feel like I’m---”

But then you smashed your lips to his, blinking tears down your cheeks, tasting the salt as it dripped down your lips and mingled with your shared saliva. Your hands wandered all over each other, begging for purchase, eager moans vibrating in your throats. His words and the sweet eagerness of the kiss threatened to make a mess of your underwear right there in the restaurant.

You blinked and sniffed as you met his eyes again. You were shaking your head, almost in disbelief at the circumstances. “I love you so much,” you admitted, relieved to say the words after they’d been living on your tongue for so long.

Eddie found your mouth again, clutching the back of your neck to pull you closer, speaking in between eager kisses. “You do? Say it again, baby. Tell me you love me.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you murmured against his lips as he wrapped his arms around and crushed you to him. The last I love you made a little laugh hitch in your throat at the absurdity of where this confession was taking place.

Eddie picked you up so that your feet were off the ground for a second, making you squeal, and then he searched your eyes, his pupils blown. “God, I want to be inside of you so bad right now,” he breathed.

You reached down to feel the outline of his cock grow stiff in his jeans, and you thought about telling John that there was an emergency and you had to split.

He rubbed his nose on yours and then took your wrist and flattened your palm over his heart. “You can finish your dinner, baby, I’ll wait for you in the parking lot, I don’t care how long it takes. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Part 12

------

@notsobubblybaby @eighty6babyyy @unfocused81 @aysheashea @truffleshuffle12 @manicmagicmayhem @etherealglimmer @dream-a-little-nightmare @rhirojo @ms1oftheboys @hellv1ra @emxcast @bexreadstoomuch @micheledawn1975 @lma1986 @secretdryrose @falling-solar-system @kurdtbean @whatwedontdointheshadows @miarosso @layla-loves-ed @lofaewrites @eddiemunson95 @seventhlevelofhell @stylesxmunson @chelebelletx @texasblues @michellecrusher

@dandelionnfluff @nope-thanks @kelsiegrin @eddiemunson95 @clincallyonline17 @lilpotatobean2 @hideoutside @tlclick73 @mmunson86 @sidthedollface2 @leilalaufeyson02 @tenthmoon @corrodedcoffincumslut

#eddiemunsonseries #eddiemunson #eddiemunsonfic #biker eddie munson #eddie my beloved #older!eddie #steve harrington #older eddie munson #i'm on fire #90s au #boyfriend eddie munson

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gofigureelectra · 1 year

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GPF Torino - Guignard/Fabbri

Elements:

Twizzles (4+4) (I love this sequence so much and it is SO difficult but the sync wasnt there for the GOE they got) | MiSt 2+3 | SlLi 4| PS4 | CRS

Program: This is, I'm Crying, Cuba

This program is really strong for G/F but there was something just slightly off about Marco's rotations today, so whatever they score should theoretically be 1-2 points lower than what they COULD do when he is more on. With how close the TES score ended up at the end of the program, if they were just a LITTLE tighter, they could easily EASILY place above C/B at their best, but today will be really close.

Also, this entire event has shown that the judging panel literally does not watch the step sequence... because every team except C/B has gotten a W2+M3 when that was absolutely not what these teams put out on the ice... it for SURE should have been Charlene with the 3 because Marco was not on top of his blade at the beginning of this program... (not even to say the other frustrating misscoring from the other programs...)

oh no Charlene baby who did your makeup... please please let me help you.... that blush and uneven "smoky eye" is a crime on someone so beautiful and talented as her...

Score: 84.55 into 2nd

#charlene guignard #marco fabbri #gpf torino 2022 #team italy #guignard fabbri #ice dance #figure skating #rhythm dance #isu figure #grand prix final

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 3 years

Text

Hayloft p.3

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts…)

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, death, abuse, and sexual assault (depictions of none, though)

Word Count: 5.0k

A/N: I am so sorry for how long this took to publish! Work and school have been CRAZY!

Citation: (This is absolutely cited incorrectly but the poem included was found at this link!) https://rememberingthesixties.wordpress.com/2014/11/15/love-poems

Read the Previous Chapters!

Part 1 Part 2

_________________________________

“No! No! No! I ain’t got time for this today!” You groaned, twisting your key in the ignition only to hear the engine struggle to turn over. You were already running late to work, thanks to you misplacing your shoes, purse, and keys all on the same morning. When it was really only just you, your dad, and Arvin living in your home, it was ridiculous to be losing things as often as you did. It’s not like they were touching them. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think there was some gremlin that lived in the linen closet and hid your things to make life more difficult.

Of course, your car wouldn’t work either. What a fantastic beginning to the day.

You weren’t even sure what could be wrong with the car. It had worked just fine yesterday. There was no reason for it to suddenly fall apart on you. But alas, after several minutes of trying to start the car and checking what basic things you knew about under the hood to no avail, you gave out a groan of anger, “Damnit!”

With an angry kick of your old tire, you stomped back into the house. “Everythin' okay?” Arvin asked from the dining room table, where he sat eating a plate of toast and eggs.

“I was already running late this morning and now my stupid car won’t start,” you grumbled, throwing your purse onto the open chair and taking the phone off the receiver on the wall with more aggression than you intended. You were spinning the dial and putting in the phone number to the diner you worked at.

Arvin leaned forward in his seat, “I can take a look at it for you, if you’d like.”

“That would be great if you’re willing to but-” You began to answer but you stopped abruptly and held up a finger to him when a voice answered on the phone.

“Molly’s Diner. How can I help ya?” A woman’s voice that you recognized as your coworker Charlene asked from the other side.

“Hey, Charlene?” You asked, shooting Arvin an apologetic look for the sudden interruption. She sounded surprised to hear your greeting on the other end.

“Where you at, girl?” She questioned, the ambient wound of the busy diner in the background.

You leaned against the wall, gripping the phone with both hands, “I know I’m late! I’m sorry! My car broke down and I don’t think I can make it-”

“I can give you a ride if you need.” Arvin offered quiet enough for Charlene to not hear him on the other end but you perked up.

“Wait, hang on-” You interrupted Charlene just as she began to respond, “I can actually get a ride in.” You mouthed a sincere thank you to Arvin while holding onto the phone with both hands, feeling a slight glimmer of hope in your otherwise crappy day.

“You know what? Don’t even worry about it. You’re already so late just take the day off and get your car fixed. Just be here tomorrow, alright?” You could almost hear the way Charlene’s hand was waving dismissively from the other end of the phone.

You sighed in relief, “Thank you so much. I’ll make it up to you!” After a few brief goodbyes, you hung the phone up on the receiver.

Arvin stood up and placed his plate in the sink, “So are you needin’ a ride to work?”

You shook your head, “No, Charlene said to just take the day off ‘n get the car fixed. Thank you, though. It really is sweet of you to offer.”

Arvin only shrugged, “C’mon, after all you done for me, givin’ you a ride into town really ain’t much at all. I’d still be more than happy to take a look under your hood if you’d like.”

You blushed and tried to suppress the immature giggles that threatened to slip out at the way he worded his offer. His face visibly paled and began to stumble over his words, “‘m sorry! I didn’t mean for it to come out like that! I didn’t mean take a look under your… erm. I ain’t too good with my words sometimes. Forgive me.”

You laughed outright now, stepping forward and trying to pull his nervously fidgeting arms down, “It’s okay! You’re fine! You’re fine! I would love it if you looked under my hood.” You teased, overexaggerating the way you emphasized his words, throwing them back at him.

He rolled his eyes at you, an embarrassed smile pulling the corner of his lips upwards, before looking back down at you. It was then that you realized just how close you and Arvin were, your fingers still loosely touching his forearms where they had fallen. You looked up into his eyes - those soulful brown eyes - and found yourself wanting to know everything that they’d seen.

That familiar heat rose to your cheeks and you pulled your hands back, running them up and down the white apron you wore over teal uniform, “Well, um, I’m gonna go get changed outta this if I ain’t gotta wear it for work and then I can help you out with the car?”

Arvin’s hands found their way to his pockets and he nodded in understanding.

You had changed into a pair of jeans with a buttoned up blouse before jogging out front to find Arvin already bent over the exposed inner workings of your car. “How’s it lookin’?” You asked, slowing to a pace until you reached the car. You landed beside him, hands falling on the dirty metal as you leaned over to see the mechanics. He fiddled with a few things here and there, things that you didn’t quite understand. You were good with the basics of fixing your car. You could change the oil and fix a flat but when it came to the more complicated stuff, you were a little less well-versed.

He leaned back and wiped his greasy hands on each other, “I think I have the problem pinpointed. ‘M gonna need to head into town and get a part but it’s not a hard fix at all.”

“Thank you so much for doin’ this. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You took a few steps back as Arvin lowered the hood, letting it fall the last few inches with a heavy thud.

“Yeah, well I’m happy I can finally be some help ‘round here to you.”

You rolled your eyes, following Arvin back to the house, “Please, you are plenty of help ‘round here. More help than I’ve gotten in years.”

Arvin gave you a knowing tight-lipped smile and nodded once the two of you made it through the front door. He didn’t say anything for a moment but there was a silent understanding. “You need anything while I’m out?” He asked, changing the subject.

You shook your head, “No, I’m alright. Thank you though.”

It was rare that you actually had time to yourself. While Arvin was gone, you found yourself wandering around confused for a short while until the buzzing silence wore on your ears. You sat on the couch and pulled the radio over closer to you on the coffee table, looking over your shoulder as if someone would catch you at any moment.

This was one of your secrets that you held close to you, knowing your father would make fun of you if he ever found out. Moon River had been a favorite radio program of yours since you discovered it while tuning through the stations a year back. It was full of romantic poetry and slow beautiful music. Everything you dreamt about but knew you could never have, not while you were stuck here at least. But a girl could dream.

“Tonight’s love poem is written by Betty Hayes Albright. We hope you enjoy.

They tell me not to write of love

but what else can I write –

when love is in my heart and soul

and mind both day and night?

“You’re just too young and you can’t know

of love,” (does anyone?)

“you can’t profess such knowledge –

stick to verse and pun.”

They tell me that, and say love poems

are worn out through and through

but I can’t agree with them,

for me love is brand new.

Feelings in me can’t stay down,

my love for him I can’t ignore,

somehow it’s got to be expressed,

“I’ve got no lock upon my door.”

To those who stick to subjects

of the sky and stars, of joy and pain

I write my poems of love because

my heart’s love-blood shall never drain.

Perhaps they too shall love again.”

You sighed as it came to an end and you couldn’t help but see Arvin’s face in your mind’s eye. Love had always felt like something you could only dream of. It was a “one day when I get out of here” thought, not something you saw yourself obtaining for a long time, if ever. Now with Arvin… well you weren’t sure if you could call it love but it sure as hell was the closest thing to it you’d experienced.

Since the words were spoken, they kept swirling around your head: “When love is in my heart and soul; and mind both day and night.” Since his arrival two months ago, Arvin had been that very subject on your mind almost constantly. He was the first face you hoped to see every morning and the last one you wanted to see before bed. Your entire mood lit up every time he walked into the room, even when you were stressed from work or your father. It hadn’t been hard for you to realize that he became the lighthouse in the rocky ocean, promising solace and providing light in the storm that could be your life at times. It was hard to not fall for that.

"Never heard that one before." You whipped around in a panicked start to see Arvin standing in the foyer. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

You shook your head and tucked your hair behind your ears, "No, no, you're fine. You read a lot of poetry?" You watched Arvin shake his head and walk into the room. He stopped on the other side of the couch and you climbed up, placing your knees on the cushions and leaning over the back of the couch to look up at him.

"I don't like poetry all that much, at least the ones we read in high school… but I like that one." He looked down at where his hand gripped the back of the couch and his weight shifted on his feet.

Your eyes fell to his hands in an attempt to hide the blush that crept up on your cheeks that really had no place being there. "Yeah… me too. It reminds me that there is real love out there in the world."

A silence settled over the room as your eyes anxiously dragged up Arvin’s body till they settled on his eyes but you found yourself unable to hold his gaze. "I, erm, I got the part I need for your car." He took a step back and lifted the hand that wasn't on the couch, tossing the metal mechanism in his hand.

"Oh," you pressed yourself away from the couch and moved back to stand, "thank you for runnin’ all the way out into town."

He gave you a small smile and a nod, “It’s my pleasure. I’m gonna go see if this fixes the problem.”

***

"That should be it," Arvin slammed the hood back down and wiped his hands on his jeans. "We should take her for a drive to see if she's runnin' alright now."

You nodded, "Alright. Hop in." You took the keys from your pocket and gestured to the passenger seat. Arvin climbed in and you slid into the driver's seat, turning the key. This time, the engine started up without a problem. A big smile spread across your face, "You're a miracle worker, you know that?"

Arvin shook his head, "I ain't no miracle worker. Just good with fixin' things I s'pose."

Your feet were on the brake and the clutch when you shifted into first gear and began to peel out down the long dirt driveway. You stopped at the road and looked both ways, trying to decide which way to go. You looked to your right, the road into town, and then to the left, the way to that field that was oh so special to you. You began to gnaw at your lower lip.

Did you want to show Arvin? That little clearing by the creek had been your secret getaway since you’d discovered it three years ago. You never told anybody about it and you’d never seen anyone else there when you went so, as far as you were concerned, it was yours. Your special hide away, your paradise, your escape. But since his arrival, Arvin had become just that as well.

“You alright?” He questioned, looking over at you with a vaguely concerned expression.

You looked over at him, a nervous twist to your lips, “Can I show you somewhere special?” Perhaps it was an odd question to ask, though you hadn’t thought it was until you saw the curious and somewhat confused look dawn on Arvin’s face. Nevertheless, he nodded and, with a smile, you turned left towards the field.

It was a short but otherwise successful, trouble-free drive. You slowed down and pulled off to the side of the road into the dirt shoulder. “Where are we?” Arvin asked, looking around and seeing nothing but tall grass and trees.

With an impish smile, you turned off the ignition and looked towards him, “You’ll see. C’mon!” You threw your door open and walked around the front of the car towards the passenger’s side, hanging on the passenger door when Arvin finally opened the door to exit the vehicle.

He followed you to the edge of the brush where you walked as if you knew it like home. With minimal effort, you found the overgrown path and pulled him along behind you. The road disappeared behind the two of you as you wandered beyond the tree line, tall birch trees creating a maze that you knew by heart. The path was short and you navigated it with a sixth sense until you led Arvin to a small field. There was an imperfect circle of wild grasses beside a stream that seemingly appeared from nowhere but you knew it was that time of year when the snow started melting off the mountains. Bundles of wildflowers grew mixed in the grass. Just along the bank of the crystal clear creek water was a large dogwood tree with vibrant white flowers.

“Wow…” Arvin breathed out in amazement as he tried to take in the beauty of the place.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” You asked with a smile, the wonder in his brown eyes warming your heart. You were glad that he seemed to appreciate it as much as you did.

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as your heart welled with happiness at his stunned reaction. He stepped in a slow circle, taking in the beautiful scenery. “It’s beautiful.”

“This is sorta my… escape from reality, I guess you could call it. I come here and I’m suddenly in a different world away from all the bullshit of life.” You reached down to run your fingers through the soft blades of grass. Arvin smirked and you looked up at him with a short breathy laugh, “What?”

He shook his head and looked down, hands buried in his pockets as always, “I think that’s the first time I ever heard you curse.”

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t do it very often. My daddy would always yell at me tellin’ me how un-ladylike it was to say bad words. Told me it made me sound ugly. I think his exact words were ‘a dirty mouth makes a dirty woman.’” Your voice dropped to mock your father.

Arvin spoke plainly, “Your pa needs to treat you better.”

You gave him a sad knowing smile and looked down at the ground, “It wasn’t always like this, y’know? I think that’s the saddest part.”

“What you mean?” Arvin asked.

You sat down on the grass, feeling the soft blades press against your skin as you sat back on your hands. Arvin followed suit, finding a comfortable spot beside you and waiting for you to continue. “When my momma was alive, he hardly ever drank. Wasn’t nothing like he is now. I think that’s the only reason I’ve put up with as much as I have. I hate seeing this miserable shell of the man I once knew but I also know that a real father wouldn’t have let himself fall into this pit - or at least stay down there long enough to practically leave his daughter to fend for herself. I just always hoped that maybe one day he’d pull through and… y’know… be my dad again.”

You laid back on the ground and stared up at the sky. The clouds passed by, white and weightless, pure and unaffected by the troubles of this world. You envied them. The way they floated along, either bringing shade and beauty to the sky or raging unapologetic storms, with no constraints as to where they could float and how they could behave… it made you wish you could be a cloud.

Arvin was silent, unsure of how to respond. He wanted to offer words of support and encouragement but he never had been too good with words. He hadn’t really been taught to talk about problems. His daddy had taught him to finish them with his fists. Finally, he sighed, looking out across the field, “I understand. I felt the same way ‘bout my daddy.”

You perched up on your elbows, “Really?”

He nodded and looked down at his leg, which he was slowly rolling side to side just to keep fidgeting in some way, “Yeah… he, uh, he changed into a totally different man after my mama died.”

You looked up at him but you could see he was trying to avoid your eyes. You rested a gentle hand on his knee, “‘M sorry, Arvin. I had no idea.”

He shook his head, “Nah, don’t be. It’s been a long time.”

“D-do you mind if I ask what happened?” You cautiously inquired but quickly added, “Of course, it’s fine if not. You just… you don’t talk much ‘bout yourself.”

Arvin took a deep breath in, “My mama died when I was ‘bout ten. Cancer took her. My daddy tried everythin’ to keep her alive but when it didn’t work… he killed ‘imself too.”

This time you were unsure of how to respond, stunned by the new information you’d just learned. “I-I’m so sorry,” you breathed out in disbelief. For some reason, you had never thought that perhaps Arvin could have had a similar childhood experience to you, like losing your mothers, but your heart went out to him.

“It took a long time for me to understand why he did what he did but I finally realized that he just loved my mama so much that he couldn’t bear to be away from her.”

“He should’ve loved you enough to stay for you.” Before you could stop yourself, the stunning but honest words slipped from your lips. You damn near stopped breathing when you realized what you said, “I’m sorry. That was out of line. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright.” Arvin had been stunned by the words that came out of your mouth but he knew damn well they were only a vocalization of a thought he had had almost every day since the day his father put a bullet in his head. “I’d be lyin’ if I said I hadn’t thought the same thing before.”

A heavy silence weighed over the two of you that was only relieved by a cool breeze. “So what happened to your mama?” Arvin asked.

Your face twisted, “Labor complications. She was pregnant with my little sister. When she went into labor, things just went really wrong. She lost too much blood ‘n died. The baby died too. I think it was just too much loss at once for my daddy to handle.”

“That’s too much loss to make a child deal with on her own,” Arvin commented the same way you had earlier.

You shrugged, wavering your head from side to side. Like he’d said, you would be lying if you said you hadn’t had the same thought. “Looks like we got a lot in common.” You chuckled sadly, “I feel like I lost everyone who ever loved me. My mom, my sister, my grandparents, my dad...” Another silence settled and you waved the thought away, pushing yourself to sit up, “‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to make this all sad.”

Arvin shook his head, “You ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for.” He paused, hesitant to continue. He hadn’t talked to anybody about what happened back in Coal Creek and Knockemstiff but something was strongly compelling him to. Maybe it was a bad idea to continue but he did, “I had a sister once too.”

Your mouth fell slightly in surprise and you let out a heavy breath, “You did?” The use of the words had and did instead are have and do were not lost on you and you couldn’t help but wonder what had happened.

Arvin swallowed hard and nodded, “Yeah… she, uh, she got into some trouble with this no good preacher that came into town. She was just so lonely, reminds me a lot o' you, but when he saw that and he took advantage of her. Took everythin’ he wanted and when she got into trouble he just told her she was crazy.” He paused for a moment, the memories of his sister flowing through his head, “Found her hangin’ in the shed.”

You were dumbfounded by the story you’d just been told. Anger and sadness were clear in Arvin’s voice despite his attempt to hold on, though you had a feeling that just the way he had been telling you about it meant that he had shared more of himself than he ever intended to . You struggled to wrap your brain around the tragedy he had just shared. “What’s her name?” You finally asked after a few moments of silence.

Arvin looked out across the field again and then back at you, “Lenora.”

“Lenora,” you repeated, “That’s a pretty name.” Arvin only nodded wordlessly. Again, another pause before you continued, “You said it was some preacher that got her in trouble? What happened with that? I mean, you knew? Didn’t anyone else? Is he in jail or somethin’?”

The man tensed up next to you and shot a look towards you that was sharper than one he’d ever given you before. You shrank back ever so slightly, taken off guard by his response to your seemingly simple question. “‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. You don’t have to-”

“Ain’t nobody woulda believed my Lenora if she told ‘em. You know how people see women who got babies ‘n no husband. Especially since he was the preacher…” he trailed off and you were desperate to see the memories that played behind his big brown eyes, “He ain’t gonna hurt nobody no more.”

Your brows knitted together, trying to decipher what that meant. Did he go to jail? Was he fired? Was his reputation ruined? You prayed whatever justice he got was fit for something so atrocious.

"I'm sorry you lost your sister."

"I'm sorry you lost yours too."

After a long silence, Arvin laid back beside you, his body grazing your arm as he lowered himself. The two of you rested beside each other in this new understanding of each other. As you struggled to keep your attention on the sky, your eyes frequently straying from the vast blue expanse overhead to the beautiful man to your right, you couldn't help but wonder if by some insane fantasy maybe he'd be struggling to keep his eyes off of you in the same way.

"Let's talk about somethin' less depressing," you prompted, "How 'bout girlfriends? You ever had one of those?"

Arvin’s chest rose and fell heavily as he sighed, "I ain't never had much time for a girlfriend. Didn't much like anybody in my hometown anyways. Don't think nobody liked me much neither."

You rolled your eyes and audibly scoffed, "I find it hard to believe you didn't have girls bangin' down your door for a date. You're tellin' me you ain't never went out on a single date?"

He shook his head, "Nope. I mean I kissed a girl or two back when I was younger but I never had no time for datin'. Always workin' or helpin' my grandma or keepin' Lenora safe."

You rolled over onto your side and looked down at him curiously, "Where you from anyways?"

Arvin was hesitant to answer, you could see it plain as day, though you couldn't figure why. Finally, he answered, "Lived with my mama and daddy in Knockemstiff but moved to Coal Creek with my grandma after they died."

Mentally, you wracked your mental map for any memory of those towns but found none. "I don't think I ever heard of those," you commented, lying back down.

Arvin stretched his arm up and readjusted his cap, "Not many people have unless you're from near there. Just some small towns you'd drive right through and never even notice. Knockemstiff is near Meade, Ohio."

"Oh!" You exclaimed in realization, "I heard of that one!" You giggled. You didn't live anywhere near there but you'd heard the name at least from a friend whose family was from Meade.

"What about you?" He asked.

You began tracing light patterns on your stomach with your finger, "What about me? You know where I'm from."

"You ever had a boyfriend?"

You kept your eyes staring straight up. “I tried datin’ a few boys back in high school but nothing too serious. They didn’t seem to like me much,” you admitted with a shrug. At the time, it had bothered you a little that you seemed to have a hard time finding a boyfriend but now you saw that it was better this way. Younger you had spent night after night praying for a knight in shining armor that would come and whisk you away to some beautiful new life. All they had done was run for the hills because they didn’t want to deal with your daddy… not that you could blame them. You’d learned not to depend on anybody for anything, certainly not some boy to make your life better. You’d have to do that yourself.

“I think it would be impossible for somebody not to like you.” Arvin said quietly but with no ounce of dishonesty.

You rolled your eyes and rolled over to look at him, “Your just sayin’ that.” Despite the fact you swore to yourself he was only joking, blood rushed to your cheeks.

Arvin’s head turned in the crook of his arm to make eye contact with you, “I like you.”

The sweetly joking smile you had on your face fell in shock. “W-what?” You stuttered less than gracefully.

“I mean it. I like you… a lot.” After your pause, his heart fell but he didn’t need you knowing that, “You ain’t gotta say it back.”

“I like you too,” you admitted quickly before Arvin could continue to doubt himself anymore but when you looked over at him, you could see that momentary flash of doubt in his eyes. You could almost hear his thoughts behind those big brown orbs: Nah, you’re just sayin’ that. So you decided to beat him to it, “I really do.”

A warm breeze couldn’t dispel the thickness that had been created in the air between you two as you both looked at each other, trying to decipher what the other was thinking and what on Earth you were supposed to do next. Neither of you were well experienced when it came to love or romance or whatnot but experience wasn’t needed to feel some higher power, call it God or the universe, pulling the two of you together.

You weren’t quite sure when you and Arvin had started to inch your lips closer to each others’ but when they finally met in a gentle experimental kiss, it was as if fireworks had gone off. Your heart swelled with an emotion that could only be described as longing. Breathing stopped as if the feather-light touch of his lips on yours had knocked the air out of your lungs and you found yourself unable to catch it.

Both you and Arvin were hesitant to pull back and neither of you did until there was no air left in your lungs. It was one of those kisses that left you less. Breathless, speechless, thoughtless. Just less. And yet somehow more. A part of you that you had denied being empty for so long felt like it was now filled by Arvin and, perhaps that was too much credit to give for simply saying he liked you and sharing a mindblowing kiss with you, but damn.

“I-I-I uh…” You tried to stammer out something that would be fitting but there were no words.

“You ain’t gotta say nothin’.” Arvin reached over and gently brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen into your face, “But I’ll be damned if I let you go without tellin’ you you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”

You reached up and covered his large hand with your own, twisting your wrist so that your fingers would interlock with his, “Who ever said you gotta let me go?

__________________

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