#I need to remove this shit from my playlists | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

elliesmistress · 19 days

Text

EPISODE 1: PILOT

WARNINGS: 18+, heavy drug usage (cocaine, weed, alcohol, etc), oral sex (R, E, D, A, ETC), tribbing, overdoses (reader), mentions of overdoses, angst, EVERYONE WILL BE IN COLLEGE AS EUPHORIA IS SET IN HIGHSCHOOL!, mentions of self harm, Jules will be transgender (same in the show, except sex won't be with her), shoplifting, mentions of death, NATE and his family will most likely be left out of this completely and set with new characters that are less toxic, dealer!ellie (sometimes), drug deals, swearing, less abusive relationships but still toxic, mentions of rehab, rehab (detox), death, degradation, toxic sex, rough sex, strap usage, strap sucking, mentioning of 9/11, lmk if I missed anything please!

a/n: this will be VERY similar to Euphoria, you will be RUE (Due to it being "your" story I will be writing it with 'I' as Rue talks). I just need to figure out where abby, dina, jesse, etc will fit into the story. I do know abby will be CAT very likely all the characters will be the exact same (besides from Nate and his parents) I've struggled with a few of the problems in Euphoria and I've written my own fic about MY addictions but I figured I'd do Euphoria too hehe, I will be removing the SA parts of the story because that's just something I don't want to have on my page. Please let me know if you want to be on the taglist whilst I actually have inspo to write :) 3.8K WORDS, spell checked and shit idk man it's like 4 hours past my bed time and 1am

I WILL BE MAKING A EUPHRIA PLAYLIST FOR EACH CHAPTER!

Taglist: @snowy-vee , @vqxen @pedropascalsbbg

PRESENT DAY

"I was once happy, content, sloshing around in my own private primordial pool." I am standing in front of hundreds of people who are here listening to my story—to say the very least, I was nervous. I always have been a fucking addict, and now I'm telling my story of how I recovered from this fucking disease that ruined my fucking life.

"Then one day, for reasons beyond my control, I was repeatedly crushed." I blink my eyes, looking at the floor, struggling to find the right words: "over and over by the cruel cervix of my mother, Grace."

"I put up a good fight, but I lost, for the first time, and definitely not my last... I was born three days after 9/11."

Memories flood back to when I could hear the TV going on the day I was born.

"I can hear you; I can hear you; the rest of the world hears you; and the people who knocked these buildings down will hear all of us soon." The unknown man says on the TV that hearing the words "USA, USA!" being chanted over and over again made me cry as a baby. Those chants will forever haunt me.

"My mom and dad spent two days in the hospital, holding me under the soft glow of the television, watching the towers fall over and over again, until the feelings of grief gave way to numbness." I shift uncomfortably in the silence of the audience, glancing at my good friends Jesse and Ellie, who indicate for me to keep talking. A soft chuckle comes from my lips as I continue on with the story.

"And then," I take a deep breath, "without warning, we moved to a friendly neighborhood in the suburbs, to where a middle-class child, me to be exact, was looking up at the ceiling, counting those fucking numbers like I could fucking see them. Over and over again. 'thirteen... fourteen... fifteen... sixteen."

"My mother looked up at that ceiling like I was fucking crazy; the words she said echo through my dumb brain still: 'What are you looking at, y/n?'" "I kept counting, trying my hardest to ignore her. She said to me, 'y/n, look at me."

I chuckle. "I bet you all know where this is going. I kept counting, but from the start," and my smile dropped immediately.

"I remember breaking down and crying when my mother tried to snap me out of it. I wanted... I had nothing but to cry, so that's what I did. I sat in a doctor's office a few weeks later with my mother crying next to me as the doctor said I could be suffering from obsessive-compulsive disorder, attention deficit disorder, general anxiety disorder, and possible bipolar disorder." I put my hand up close to the mic to cup it. "But I was a little too young to tell," I said in a joking tone, cracking a laugh from the crowd. "Y'all get me; y'all fucking get me."

"With this being said, I was put on medication to treat half of the disorders I had, and to be honest, I don't remember much between the ages of 8 and 12. Just that the world moves fast and my brain moves so fucking slowly."

"I would sit my fucking ass in class every day and try my hardest to listen to what that fucking teacher was trying to teach, but sometimes I would focus on my breathing a little too hard. I'd die. That teacher held a bag to my mouth to calm my breathing, though it never really helped. I remember trying to outrun my anxiety every day, looking in the mirror and trying to push my stomach in so I wouldn't look "fat."

"I would constantly get messages from people telling me they wanted to kill me, drug me, make fun of me, and bully me. My mother knew something was up and constantly asked me what was wrong, but I always gave the same response: 'I'm just fucking exhausted."

AGE 19 (college years)

"You said the doctor was in our network. How could he suddenly be out of network?" I hear my mother say as I walk out of my room into the kitchen, "I can't afford it" Grace says.

"did you see the beauty queen who got acid thrown in her face?" My sister says as I begin to lean on the dinning room table. "Mm, what? No" I say, turning my attention to her and out of my trance. "it's pretty fucked up." She says holding up her phone. "Hey, Mom, you got any tampons?" I turned my head to face her as she looked at the documents in her hand, I knew full well I wasn't going to be getting tampons but she didn't need to know that shit.

"in my bathroom, under the sink." She replies back, I swiftly make my way to the bathroom.

I enter her bathroom and cough as I open her medicine cabinet to take a few of her Alprazolam (XANAX) pills.

I would do this countless times, and surprisingly at some point, you make a choice about who you are and what you want in life.

I pretend to flush the toilet and I look at the picture in my mother's bathroom- it had my dad and my Mom on it on their wedding day.

I look at myself in the mirror washing my hands and putting on sunglasses to hide my pupils that are almost as big as my actual eye itself- I get out of the bathroom to go back into the kitchen

"alright, Jayda, let's roll." I say to my sister as she looks at me and frowns, probably these fucking sunglasses.

"y/n, did you eat breakfast?" Grace says, moving the phone away from her mouth. "I had coffee!" I yell out, opening the front door and making my way out.

Jayda and I begin to walk down the sidewalk, she turns her attention onto me and asks what's with the sunglasses.

"what sunglasses?" I say and chuckle, Jayda laughs with me.

We both make our way to the bus and wait for it to arrive, once it arrives we get on the bus and make our way to the back of the bus.

I guess... I showed up one day, without a map or a compass... Or to be honest, anyone capable of giving on iota of good fucking advice. And I know it all may seem sad, but guess what? I didn't build this system nor did I fuck it up.

I was sitting at a party, with a galaxy book to my knees and a line of cocaine, holding the perfectly rolled 5 dollar bill that had been rolled by some rando.

I snort the line of cocaine and immediately felt the pain in my nose, moving my hand up to my nose and applying pressure to where it is painful, making my breathing hitch, then speeding up my breathing in order to get rid of the pain.

My pupils immediately shot big, looking around—everything felt good, my mind at ease and nothing to worry about. I sit up with the most unreal experience, an out-of-body feeling as I struggle to get up.

"y/n, you good?" My friend Ellie attempts to hold my shoulders to steady me as I wobble slightly, I giggle and smile at her, escaping her grasp. "I'm good!"

I walk past people- everything is in slow motion, my body feels slow, my mind feels slow, and suddenly I no longer feel as high- I find another unknown substance and waste no time snorting it, sitting down on the couch.

I sat back up from the couch I was sitting at, getting offered yet another line of cocaine. I snort that cocaine as well, that leaves it hard for me to breathe, every time I take a breathe out. It feels like I'm breathing out all the oxygen I have.

And then it happens. That moment when your breath starts to slow, and every time you breathe, you breathe out all the oxygen you have. And everything stops: your heart, your lungs, then finally your brain. Then everything you feel, and wish, and want to forget, it all just sinks. And then suddenly... You give it air again, give it life again, and that's what leaves you needing more.

I smile at the figure I see besides me, her face is blurred but she's speaking to me, I feel scared. "I want to call an ambulance" I say in my mind, "but I don't wanna ruin everyone's time"

"dude get her fucking legs" I hear muffled voices, slowly waking up. It was Ellie and Jesse dragging my body to Ellie's bed, after I had passed out on the couch at that random frat party-

I stand in a church with my hands behind my back, looking up at the ceiling waiting to graduate from rehab. Slowly making my way up the steps, I look at the lady and give her a smile and a nod before exiting the building.

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." Echoing in my mind over and over again as I make my way to Ellie's car.

"Hey!" I see Ellie running up to me. I drop my bags as she pulls me into a tight hug. I smiled at her shoulder. She squeals, letting go of me and looking at my face, pulling a hair strand behind my ear.

"I've missed you," she admits. "I've missed you too."

"What about we go back to mine and we can watch a movie?" Ellie suggests that, honestly, I wanted to get home and get out to my fucking dealer. I never had intentions of staying clean, but she didn't need to know.

"Uh yeah, sure," I say, quickly breaking myself out of my own stance. She helps me with my bag, and she puts it in Joel's old, beat-up truck, and I get into the front seat. "Everyone's missed you, dude, Abby, Dina, Jesse, and Maddie. Fucking everyone, dude."

I chuckle.

I cuddle up with Ellie in her dad's garage as we watch Jurassic Park. I'm on top of her, listening to her breathing—she's relaxed; she's always around me.

I find myself nuzzling into her neck. She moves her head to the side, so you have better access to her neck. I softly kiss her neck; she's always so soft.

Her eyes flutter shut as I start to suck on her neck, her hands finding their way to my ass, slowly rocking me back and forth to grind on her. Ellie let out a choked moan as she felt my clothed cunt rub against her clit.

"Y/N, fuck," she moans. I smile against her neck and make my way to Ellie's lips.

I kiss her slowly, but Ellie starts to become desperate, whining into my mouth as I refuse to give her what she wants. I move my hand underneath her hoodie to find her tits; of course she's not wearing a fucking bra or shirt under her jumper. It's Ellie.

"Wait," I say, pulling down her pants and boxers in one go. I look at her swollen cunt, slowly moving my head downward to lick up her slit, making my way to her clit.

She bucks her hips up into my tongue, I moan into her cunt, and she tangles her hand in my hair, slightly tugging upwards, making me groan loudly.

"S-sh-it," her voice is choked. "Fuck, just like that," she moans, rolling her eyes back, her toes curling in her socks. "Hmm? Feel good, baby?" I say to her, slowly lifting my head up, abandoning her swollen cunt.

"Fucking don't," she threatened, and I chuckled. I push my middle finger into her soaking pussy as I attach back to her clitoral area; her breathing gets faster, and I feel her tighten around my fingers.

"F-FUCK!" She moans loudly, and I feel her pussy conract on my finger as she cums, her fingers tugging at my hair. "A bit loud, don't you think?" I tease after letting her ride out her orgasm, and I move up to kiss her sweaty forehead. "Shut up"

"got another in you?" I smirk, taking off my pants, t-shirt, and bra. Ellie takes off her jumper, leaving us both naked. I allow Ellie to get up and let her go on top of me.

Ellie aligns her clit up with mine and moans quickly, filling the room each time Ellie moves her hips. I start to dig your nails into Ellie's back, making her groan in pain.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Ellie chants from the overstimulation. "C'mon, baby, I know—fuck, I know you can do it." I praise her as I feel a knot in my stomach, threatening to come undone.

Ellie moves her shoulder closer to my face. I take this as an opportunity to bite down on her shoulder, which makes her wince in pain.

"I'm going to fucking cum!" Ellie moans out. Hearing Ellie say this triggers my own orgasm, and we both cum together.

I sit up in bed watching Ellie sleep, and I take out my phone to look at the time.

4AM

"Fuck it," I think before opening Ellie's window slowly, climbing out her window, and making my way to my dealer's house.

"There's a new girl in town I think you're going to be friends with." I stand in front of my dealer, who's sitting down in his chair. "who?" I question.

"shit... I don't know, man. She came in yesterday lookin' all Sailor Moon and sh*t. I'm thinking to myself, "You look like somebody you would get along with."

"Ah, real nice, dude. Really nice, where's ash?"

"I thought you went to rehab?"

"Doesn't that mean I stayed sober?" I smiled, walking towards Ash's room with a smile. I opened his door to see him eating cereal. He puts down his bowl and looks at me.

"Shit, I thought your ass was dead."

"I thought you had Asperger's till I realized you're just a prick." I insult him. "This is a fickle industry. Y'all come and go." He chuckles.

I ask for what I want, and he hands it to me. "Sure, you don't want to try anything new?"

"Like, what?" I asked, pulling the hair out of my face.

"2-C-T-2, 2C-T-7, and 5-MeO-DIPT." "I have no idea what the fuck you just said, Ash."

"Doesn't matter, dude, this sh*t. Is fucking lit?" He holds up a bag with two unknown pills. "It's a fast-acting psychedelic. I have some similarities to LSD, but with, like, key differences. Not as visual and shit, but still a sense of distortion... I don't know what's been blowing up in Tampa, and mad people like to fuck on it."

"okay, yeah." I say, putting all the baggies in my pocket, "That'll be 120."

"Fez said he'd spot me."

"Fezco, don't spot anybody."

"Yeah, well, it's a post-rehab discount, so you should ask him." I say, pointing the middle finger at him, opening his door, and leaving.

"Do you think my areolas look weird?" Dina says to Abby, "What the fuck, no?"

"Just the edges."

"Dina, they're fine," Abby says, taking a puff of the weed Cassie gives her.

"Fine, like, they're weird, kind of weird, or fine, like, nobody but me would ever notice what I would notice?"

"Fine, like, shut the fuck up, Dina," Cassie says, sitting up, grabbing her vape, and taking a puff. Dina scoffs, pulling up her t-shirt to cover her boobs.

"Hey ladies!" Jesse walks in. "Hey baby," Dina squeals, running to Jesse and hugging him. Abby cringes.

"Straight people, ew," she thinks to herself, looking at her phone. "Yo, you got out of rehab."

"Didn't she die?" Dina asks, and Abby shrugs.

"Yeah, I swear she died. I don't know, is Ellie coming to the party?" Jesse questions, to which Dina nods.

I get off my bike at home, slightly drugged up from the drugs I took earlier.

I walk into the house, softly shutting the door.

"Where were you?" My mother says, sitting at the table, Why the fuck is she up at 6 a.m.? You thought to yourself: "I went to eat," I lie. "What the fuck do you mean, you went to eat?"

"what?"

"what?" She mocks, "Don't walk away from me." She sits up from her seat, walking towards me as I walk towards my room. "You know what, y/n? I don't trust you."

"I don't know what you want me to say." It's true; I didn't know why she wanted me to say it. "I want you to tell me where you were," she says, walking quickly as I walk to my room.

"I just said I went to fucking eat!" I yell at her, "Don't you talk to me like that!" Grace says as I slam the door on her face. "Don't be slamming my doors around here."

"It was a fucking accident!" I yell out, holding my body in front of the door. "I don't care. You're not leaving this house until you take a drug test."

"I just peed!" I yell out, "Slam another door."

"Shit," I say, making my way to my bed, not knowing what to do. Every option I could do is unsafe as fuck.

Niacin, maybe. I don't know fuck, I think to myself, putting out my phone to look at the side effects.

Google

Side effects: skin flushing, extreme dizziness, vomiting, rapid heartbeat, and sometimes death.

Fuck, I can't.

"No drug site recommends doing this" I whisper to myself.

The other option is to get a non drug-addicted friend to do it for me.

About 20 minutes later, I show up at Dina's door, knocking.

"y/n!" Dina says, opening the door, smiling and hugging me, "I thought you died."

I laugh. "Can you do me a favor?" Uhm, I'm serious, bro."

"Sure, what is it, y/n?"

"Can you, uh, piss in this cup for me?" I whisper to her . "You're fucking with me, right?" She responds back, and I laugh and shrug.

Dina agrees to do it, and I enter her house to see Jesse and Abby.

"Sup Jesse," I say, fist bumping Jesse, then Abby.

"We thought you fucking died, bro. How was rehab?" Jesse says it with a genuine tone. "Yeah, it was good." I turn to Abby and ask, "How's football going?"

"Yeah, good. Thanks, uh, are you coming to that party tonight?" Abby asks, "Uhm, yeah, maybe."

"y/n" Dina grabs your attention, you move away from Jesse and Abby, and she swiftly hands you the bottle. "Here's that eyeliner."

"thank you"

I quietly climb through my window, grabbing my baggie of crushed cocaine, tipping some out onto my shelf, grabbing my 5 dollar note, rolling it up, and snorting a line.

"Argh," I groan, feeling it hit my nose. The same pain I've always experienced with snorting was still there—just muffled out. By this point, my nose was completely fucked, and I could hear the sound of the drugs eating away at my nose.

"Mom! I have to pee."

"I wish we could do this in a way that wasn't a complete invasion of my privacy." I say, cup in hand, struggling not to smile at her due to the drugs I had taken earlier on.

"Well, you lost your right to privacy after your overdose," your mom says, staring at you in the eyes.

"That was an accident." I smartly talk back, "Don't be flippy, y/n."

"Could you, at least?" Your mom turns around and says, "Thank you."

I sit down, and before "peeing" in the cup, I swiftly change it with Dina's urine as she talks. I wasn't listening to whatever the fuck she was saying... I was high as fuck, and I didn't care.

I gave her the urine sample, and she put the drug test in the container, and all of them came out negative. "I'm sorry for slamming the door earlier."

"it's okay. I forgive you. Come here." My mom says, pulling me in for a hug.

I guess... Like I said before, you get to choose who you want to be and how you want to be- the way the drugs cancelled out all my emotions was what I was looking for, no person, no nothing could compare to that feeling. Besides from drugs.

"I'm gonna stay at Dina's tonight" i say to which she agrees.

It's now 7PM, I don't know how the day went by so fast- but it did and it fucking sucked. I get a text from Ellie.

Ellie: Yo, noticed you left this morning you okay?

Me: yeah, I'm good bro. You alg?

Ellie: yep! Wanna come over tonight? Dont have to if you wanna go to the party instead

Me: I'll come over around like 11?

I find myself making my way to the party that Jesse, Dina, and Abby are going to.

Jesse and Dina have fucked off somewhere else, probably making out or fucking, and you find yourself next to Abby.

"How was rehab, y/n?" She says, breaking the tension, although I can barely hear her over the music, "Yeah, it was good!" I yell over the music.

I stand up, looking for the bathroom in an attempt to snort more, but people were already in the bathroom. "Shit," I think to myself, not paying attention to where I'm walking, accidentally bumping into this lady.

"fuck!" I yell. Looking at her, she looks like the girl Faz mentioned. "Hey, sorry." I retrace my steps.

"You're good; I'm, uh, I'm Jules," she says, and I smile, holding out my hand to shake hers. She accepts and shakes my hand.

She's got one of the most beautiful smiles you have ever seen; her smile is so bright it could light up an entire dark room, filled with nothing but sadness.

"I'm y/n" I introduce myself, to which we exchange numbers, and I make my way to Ellie's place, feeling overwhelmed from the party.

I knock on her door for Joel to answer; my pupils are dilated, and obviously I've taken some sort of drug.

"y/n... Hey, Ellie's in her room." I smile stupidly. These fucking drugs, man, I can't stop smiling . I swiftly walk past Joel and see Ellie. I smile at her, and she smiles back. "Dude, are you high?" She scoffs, "I thought... I thought you quit."

"I'm not high, Ellie, mania." I giggle; she obviously doesn't want to assume, so she wants to give me the benefit of the doubt.

"Are you coming back to college this month?" She questions. "Yeah, probably." The truth was, I didn't want to. But I knew I probably had to.

I shall leave it at this due to how many words, etc. and idk if people will like this 😭😭

191 notes · View notes

wileys-russo · 7 months

Text

childhood sweethearts (5) II a.russo x reader

series playlist part one part two part three part four

and as we await the fate of our two main protagonists eventual kiss. its time to find out what really happened six years ago. childhood sweethearts (5) II a.russo x reader

"do i need to pick you up tomorrow then?" your older sister lily asked as she pulled up outside the russo household, drumming her fingers on her steering wheel as you unbuckled and shook your head.

"no i'll probably stay the full weekend and just go to school with less on monday." you shrugged, reaching around to grab your bag off the backseat. "what about your uniform? books? your bag?" your sister frowned as you opened her door.

"i've got a spare uniform here, i can borrow a bag to put my stuff in and i've already got my books with me, i have to study." you patted your overnight bag as the girl rolled her eyes. "of course you do, does your brain even know what a weekend is or do you mentally go to school 7 days a week?" she jeered as you mocked her and flipped her off, closing her door as her window rolled down.

"some of us have aspirations to graduate lilian." you smiled, your sister having dropped out early to pursue a career in cosmetics which had lasted all of three months. "have a shit time dickhead!" your sister called out after you as you made your way down the driveway, flipping her off again without turning around.

"none of that here thank you young lady." your face flushed red as carol opened the front door for you before you'd even arrived, having seen you through the window. "sorry carol." you smiled guiltily, giving her a hug as she let you in with an amused smile.

"lessi's just showering sweetheart." the woman explained as you hummed, leaving your bag by the lounge and following her to the kitchen, you'd been wondering why the girl hadn't responded to you on the way over here and now it made sense.

"shortstack! i saw your hot sister dropped you off." gio wiggled his eyebrows suggestively before pulling you into a gentle headlock as you rounded the corner. "urgh you're like my brother gio thats so weird!" you gagged at the comment, wrestling to try and remove his arm to no use.

"oi get off her!" his grip disappeared as alessia entered, bottle blonde hair pulled up into a damp bun on her head as she punched her brother in the ribs, immediately pulling you into a protectively tight hug as gio let you go with a loud groan of pain.

"mum!" the boy huffed in complaint, your girlfriend rolling her eyes and mumbling an apology as the older women told her off. "i wish you'd fuck off back to jordan." the boy sulked, grabbing an apple and heading back upstairs to his room as carol yelled after him for swearing.

your girlfriend had only just gotten back yesterday from a week away at a junior lionesses tournament which had been held in jordan. as much as you'd missed her dearly you couldn't have been more proud of her or the two goals she scored, getting her rightful start in the final game. you'd only wished you were able to be there but you didn't have the luxury of a national call up as an excuse to miss a week of school.

"we'll be in my room mum." alessia announced, arm slung over your shoulder as the woman hummed and waved you off, head buried in a recipe book making you smile as your girlfriend lead you away, stopping to grab your bag for you, silencing your protests with a very quick peck to your lips after she'd triple checked no one else was around.

the pair of you had been seeing one another officially for almost two years now however no one but each other actually knew that, and just assumed you were best friends, forever thick as thieves and inseparably close.

neither of you had any idea how no one had caught on yet, maybe it was because you and alessia had always been so close and so affectionate nothing seemed out of sorts to the average eye.

you'd always loved alessia in one way or another. but when it was just the two of you behind a closed door and your lips were pressed together, cold hands roaming one anothers bodies, murmuring everything and anything you loved about the other, you were absolutely infatuated with her in a way so intense it was almost scary.

and that was one sort of love you both agreed you weren't ready to share with anyone but each other just yet.

though both of you did need to often stumble through pools of awkward lies and ramble quickly made up stories as you'd be called out by your friends for the occasional poorly placed or forgotten about hickey.

this was normally your problem. ever since she'd figured out how sensitive your neck was the taller girl utilised every and any opportunity to capitolise on that.

riled on by the whiny begs for her not to stop as she hungrily attacked and devoured your neck late at night, silencing you with a hand pressed over your mouth and a gentle warning in your ear that if you weren't quiet she would stop.

"hi." you breathed out with a grin, looking up adoringly at the striker once the two of you were finally alone behind the safety and security of her locked bedroom door. "god i missed you." alessia sighed, pulling you into a bone crushing hug as you reveled in one anothers touch.

"we spoke every day lessi!" you laughed into her shoulder, alessia having been told off both by her roommate ella and her coach for the hours spent on her phone when she was supposed to be resting and recovering.

"we could be together every minute of every day and i'd still miss you." the blonde pulled away with a cheeky smile as you rolled your eyes playfully. "don't wish that on me please, what a nightmare!" you groaned teasingly as your girlfriend scoffed, holding a hand to her chest in mock offence.

"lessi!" you squealed as she tackled you down onto her bed, hovering over you. "that's baby to you, thanks very much." alessia pouted as you laughed, thumb stroking her cheek affectionately. "there is also something else i missed that we can't do on the phone." the blonde smiled suggestively, cocking her head to the side as her hair fell around you both like a curtain.

"mmm...nothing comes to mind." you looked off into the distance as if deep in thought, hand coming to stroke your chin as alessia playfully shoved your head. "kiss me then star girl." you smiled softly, tugging at her shirt.

as your eyes met, the world seemed to fade away. you felt her hand gently touch your cheek, slender fingers tracing a line down your jawline. hearts raced as her lips met yours, soft and gentle at first, then with a growing intensity as she poured into the kiss just how much she had missed you.

if you were sentenced to death the next day and were allowed one last day to do as you pleased, you'd be sure to spend it kissing alessia.

every single time felt just like the first. the same nervous butterflies would flutter around inside you, lips would tingle as if you'd just smeared them with popping candy, your heart grew five sizes to the point it felt it might burst in your chest.

each kiss was full of tenderness and passion, a dance of two hearts in perfect harmony as the girl who you trusted with your heart and your life drowned you with her love.

you felt her arms wrap even tighter around you, pulling your bodies close as you lost yourselves in the moment. the world around you ceased to exist, leaving only the two of them in a sea of pure unbridled emotion, two hearts beat as one.

her lips always slightly chapped melded against yours perfectly, kissing you with just the right amount of firm pressure to have your stomach in knots, and yet each touch felt so soft and so tender that your brain went fuzzy at the sensation.

her hand would always reach out to tangle in your hair as your own gently carressed her cheek, thumb stroking her jawline, feeling it clench at the featherlight touch.

and then suddenly your lungs would scream for a reprise and you'd pull away, collapsing into the mattress as both of you lay on your sides, eyes locked as chests heaved and alessia leant forward to brush a few flyaways behind your ear.

gone were the afternoons of her kicking a ball at your head, smearing mud on your face as the two of you wrestled and rolled around in the dirt like steam rollers.

your afternoons now were spent wrapped up in the others arms, sharing kisses as you filled one another in on the seemingly more mundane parts of your day the other hadn't been present for, you and alessia only sharing two classes in your final year of school.

on the days alessia trained after school you studied, often at her house in her bedroom eagerly awaiting her to return.

the striker would have left her boots outside at her mums strict request, trudging up the stairs with an exhausted sigh as you'd perk up hearing the squeak of the infamous stair the two of you learned to avoid when sneaking downstairs for a midnight snack.

she would shoulder open her door and dump her kit bag on the ground, making a beeline for her bed and belly flopping normally on top of you, face buried in your neck as she clung onto you tightly with a mumbled greeting hello.

sometimes you'd wind her up and tell her you wouldn't kiss her until she showered, dodging her attempts as you teased her for smelling terribly which normally ended in her trapping you in a bear hug beneath her until you tapped out on her back and gave in, allowing her lips to finally meet yours.

other times she'd have been told she wasn't starting next game and her head would hang low from the moment she entered the room. you'd immediately sit up and brush your books to the side, opening your arms for her to melt into. carding your fingers through her hair and slipping a hand up her top you'd hold her tightly, rubbing circles on her back, lips lingering on her sweaty forehead.

as you'd always known, you loved alessia, nowadays in a way much more intimate and tender than you'd have ever understood in your youth.

"you're so beautiful." the taller girl spoke softly as you lay side by side, words melting you like butter as you couldn't help but blush, no matter how often she complimented you it still had you swooning.

"why are you so shy? it's very cute baby but we've known each other like our whole lives." alessia laughed as you hid your face in your hands, the blonde prying them away and attacking your face with kisses only making your cheeks heat up further.

her leg nudging yours as you lifted one, allowing hers to slot in perfectly, your limbs tangled up as your foreheads pressed against one anothers.

"il mio bel bambino." (my pretty baby) her lips moved to gently kiss your fingertips, hands held captive in hers.

"you learned more italian!" your face lit up in pride as alessia eagerly nodded, beginning to ramble about how she had made it her mission to continue her online lessons even while away.

"alessia mia teresa russo studying in her free time? has there been an doomsday i wasn't aware of? are you feeling okay?" you gasped holding the back of your hand to her forehead, squealing as her fingers jabbed sharply at your sides.

"yeah well unlike school work this is something i actually want to learn!" she rolled her eyes and you grinned, kissing her nose and swooning as she scrunched it up adorably.

"hey. can we talk about something?" the blonde asked hesitantly, eyes dropping down to avoid yours, messing with your fingers as you nodded, eyebrows knitting into a curiously concerned frown at what was to come.

"okay but i don't know how you'll react so we have to do the thing." alessia decided, looking to you for confirmation as you hummed, the two of you sitting up and spinning around suddenly.

you shuffled slightly so your back was pressed against hers, hands finding one anothers and intertwining your fingers as your heads slumped onto one anothers shoulders, eyes closing.

"what's on your mind lessi?" you asked softly, squeezing her hands supportively as she let out a long sigh. "well. when we were away a few of the girls were talking about their...well their first times, with their boyfriends." alessia started quietly, her heart hammering away in her chest with every word.

"and i guess it just got me thinking about it." she spoke a little quicker now, clearly nervous for your reaction to her words, squeezing your left hand to signal she was done talking for now.

"some of the girls at school have been talking about it too." you confessed. "are you thinking about...wanting to do that?" you asked gently, not wanting her to feel as though you were judging her in any way. "maybe? does that make you feel...weird, or anything?" she asked slowly.

"no, definitely not weird." you promised, the two of you sitting in silence for a moment. "i guess i think i'm ready? to do that. but i don't want you to feel like...pressured into anything. we can do it soon, we can do it later, we can never do it if you didn't want to." she assured, starting to ramble as you squeezed her hands, grounding her into silence again.

"i want to do it with someone i love and someone i trust and you're the person i love and trust the most lessi. i think i'm ready too, whenever it happens." you spoke softly, unable to see the blush creep up your girlfriends neck at your words.

and it did happen. it was a couple of months later when you had your house to yourselves, your parents having taken your brother away for the weekend for a cricket tournament and your sister disappearing around to her boyfriends house.

the first time it was awkward, nervous, weird and clumsy of course, neither of you had done anything like this before and you'd have been lying to one another if you said you both hadn't tried to do some...research on your own to try and best prepare.

but despite that, it was with alessia.

you felt safe and you felt comfortable and loved the whole time, it didn't quite have the ending either of you expected (that sort of ending came a few weeks later and boy oh boy...no amount of research could have prepared you for the feeling) but it only strengthened the trust between the two of you, and was yet another first you'd experienced by one anothers loving side.

they always say your first love is a little foolish, some may even say there isn't something called first love. but what makes those initial feelings of love most beautiful are it's innocence.

when you fall in love for the very first time, that innocence inside you, that's a precious thing. it feels like you give your whole heart to someone, and as if you wouldn't ever know anyone else to treasure and care for it.

which is why it was all too easy for alessia russo to be both your first love, and your first heartbreak.

it all started the day you got the letter.

your mum had found it first, fighting her every urge to rip it open and read your fate, instead leaving it neatly on your pillow for you to find when you returned home that afternoon.

you'd spent the day with the russo's, thermos of her dads famous hot chocolate in your hand, bundled up in a hoodie with your girlfriends jersey tugged over the top. you sat shoulder to shoulder with her brothers in the stands, watching your favorite blonde play in one of her final games of the season.

you didn't pretend to understand half the rules of football much as alessia had dedicated years of her life trying to teach you, and so her brothers knew to hit you with running commentary throughout. but the one thing you would always understand was the sense of utter euphoric pride which rushed through you watching her play, especially when she scored.

her arms would shoot up into the air and her eyes would always find yours, pointing up at you and her family with a lopsided grin, sprinting to celebrate with her teammates as you all screamed out encouragement, drowning her in whistles and claps before play resumed.

coming away with a 4-1 win meant they were in pole position to finish top of the table, and so alessia was unable to wipe the shit eating grin off her face as she emerged from the change rooms afterwards, waving goodbye to her team mates and jogging over to where you all waited for her.

she'd always hug her dad first, your girlfriend was the true epitome of his girl, and mario reveled in teasingly holding that over carol. you were always last, alessia always saved the best for last, picking you up and spinning you around off your feet as you'd laugh and sing her praises, the two of you hugging tightly.

"i love when you wear my jersey." she mumbled in your ear, sending you a soft smile as you bumped your shoulder into hers and the two of you made your way back to the car, her brothers talking her ear off about the game as you stayed stuck to her side, watching on with a quiet amusement, not understanding most of what was said but feeling nothing but pride for the taller blonde beside you.

luca had driven himself and gio as they waved you both off and headed across the lot, you and alessia slipping into the back of her dads car. her mum would always fuss over the two of you, throwing a blanket over your legs and ignoring alessia's insistence that she was still warm after running around for two hours, carol always winning out as your girlfriend rolled her eyes and gave in.

but the blanket gave the opportunity for your hand to grab hers, squeezing softly as you looked at her in admiration, her head falling tiredly to your shoulder as the two of you chatted along to her parents, waving them off as you pulled up outside your house.

you promised you'd give your mum a hug for carol, hugging them both goodbye. normally her dad would warn he'd be out the front no later than eight since you both had school the next day, but now graduated there wasn't a reason the two of you couldn't spend the next few days together if you wanted, likely flittering from house to house as you often did.

appeasing your mum with small talk for a few minutes you grew impatient, tugging on the back of alessias hoodie with a longing look as the girl would make an excuse, the two of you hurrying off to your room.

"why do you always make me end the conversations. i quite like chatting with your mum!" alessia rolled her eyes as you closed your bedroom door. "because she loves you more and she actually listens to you. and because i haven't properly congratulated you yet for winning!" you grinned as your girlfriend sat on the end of your bed.

"mm that so?" the blonde smiled, arms settling themselves around your waist as her chin rested on your stomach, your own hands playing with the baby hairs on the nape of her neck.

you were about to lean down and kiss her, when your eyes spotted it.

alessia noticed your frown right away, squeezing your hips to gain your attention as you shook your head, stepping away from her and making a beeline for the letter.

"shit is that-" "i think it is." "well, open it!"

"i'm scared. what if i didn't get in?" you admitted, biting your bottom lip nervously as alessia sat right by your side. "you're the most intelligent person both intellectually and emotionally that i've ever met baby, and you got phenomenal marks in our GCSE's. open it!" she knocked her knee against yours and you nodded.

"oh for god sakes." alessia huffed impatiently as you fiddled with the corner, peeling it off painstakingly slow as your girlfriend plucked it out of your hands, ripping the letter right open.

"no you read it." you shook your head as she tried to give it back to you, alessia nodding as her eyes scanned over the paper, face unreadable as you nervously bounced your knee.

"we regret to inform-" your body crumpled at that, flopping back into the mattress as you felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes. "only joking baby. you got in!" alessia pounced on top of you with a grin as you shot upwards, accidentally smacking your head into hers.

"oh my god i got in?!" you breathed out in shock as the blonde clutched at her throbbing head. "oh god baby i'm so sorry!" you squeaked out as she waved you off with a wince, opening her arms expectantly.

"i am so fucking proud of you. my pretty, smart, funny, kind, gorgeous-" the older girl kissed you with every word, the grin unable to be wiped from your face as your mum burst in, alessia very quickly jumping away from you as you filled her in on the news.

and as you jumped up to embrace her, your sister next to run in to congratulate you, alessia couldn't have possibly been any prouder.

but she also couldn't help but allow her mind to drift back to the box sitting in her wardrobe, signed four year scholarship and enrollment papers filled in and ready to be sent off to the states.

she knew she needed to tell you. but the thought of doing so punched a hole in her chest, and so she put it off as long as possible.

well, as long as she could until you found out yourself.

it was around a couple of weeks later, you were spending your usual friday night together, movies loaded and armfuls of snacks spread out on the bed awaiting consumption.

"lessi baby can i have a hoodie please?" you kissed your girlfriends jaw softly, the girl humming and pointing her foot toward her cupboard, engrossed in a video on her phone.

"yeah thanks, such a gentlewoman." you muttered, smacking her thigh as the girl whined and shoved you away. with a roll of your eyes at her lack of attention on you, you thrust open her cupboard, hunting around for your favourite hoodie which you knew she'd hidden, no longer wanting you to steal it as it was also her favourite to wear.

with a victorious grin you spotted the sleeve poking out from a pile of jumpers in the corner, rolling your eyes at her poor attempt at hiding and yanking it out. you frowned as a box lay hidden beneath the material, UNC on the front.

curiousity getting the better of you, assuming it was likely a new pair of trainers she'd bought and hidden from her mum as to not be told off for her spending habits, you opened it.

god, how you wished you hadn't.

your stomach leapt into your mouth as your eyes scanned just the first few words of the letter sat atop a bright blue sweatshirt.

"less. what's this?" at first she only hummed, attention still fixated on the video. "alessia. what is this?" you spoke louder now, the girls phone dropping from her hand as she looked up and saw what you had in your hand.

"baby-" "why the hell have you got a four year american football contract hidden in your wardrobe?"

"i wish you hadn't found that." she sighed, burying her face in her hands as you advanced toward her. "were you even going to tell me?" you whispered now, her head shooting up at the sudden change of tone.

"of course i was! i just...i didn't know how." she admitted guiltily, standing and trying to come toward you but you held your hand up in warning for her not to. "you didn't even tell me you were thinking about something like this, we tell each other everything." your voice cracked and with it so did alessia's heart at the look of utter betrayal splayed across your features.

"love-" "stop. don't fucking coddle me, explain." you forced out, letter still gripped tightly in your hand as you took another step back. "it's a four year scholarship to go play in the states. so long as i play with their junior team i can go to classes, live on campus and get my degree for free, and i get a hell of a lot of experience with a completely different style of football." she explained, a smile tugging momentarily at her lips, wiped right away at the look of disappointment on yours.

"i knew you wouldn't want me to go, or you'd try to talk me out of it." alessia admitted quietly, refusing to meet your eyes. "you what?" you managed out, shaking your head in disbelief. "i-" you started, trying to find the words.

"alessia i have always been your biggest supporter. i don't even like football but i go to every match, i make sure your kit bags got everything in it before you leave, i wear your jerseys, i let you kick balls at my head for years! you adore football. why on earth would you think i'd try to stop you from following that passion?" you frowned, shoulders slumping in defeat at her lack of faith in you.

"because it means we'd be apart for four years. don't even try to tell me you wouldn't have had an issue with that!" you were caught off guard at her sudden shift of tone, this one much more abrupt and sharp.

"don't try to project your guilt for not telling me into me being the reason why you didn't. that's not fair!" you shot back, alessia only shaking her head with a laugh. "you shouldn't have even been snooping around in the first place!" she snatched the letter off of you with a glare.

"snooping? i can see that offer is signed alessia, were you even going to tell me before you sent it off?" you asked with a hard stare, face falling as guilt flashed across her face momentarily. "you've already sent it." you realized quietly, her head hanging low all the confirmation you needed.

"wow." you breathed out, moving to sit down on the edge of her bed as you tried to come to terms with everything, feeling her sit down a few feet away from you. "when do you leave?" you whispered, feeling her eyes pierce into the side of your head but not having the heart to look up from the floor, the room starting to spin.

"two weeks."

your head did shoot up at that, alessia wincing at the anger, hurt, betrayal and disappointment clear as day in your features. "two fucking weeks. you didn't tell me and you leave in two weeks?" you breathed out, tears welling up in the corner of your eyes.

"i was going to i promise but i just...i thought it would make everything easier if we didn't-" alessia struggled with her words, tripping over herself as her fingers twitched and she rubbed her palms against her sweats.

"make what easier?" you caught on right away to what she meant, the room starting to feel awfully small as your chest tightened. and meeting your eyes alessia knew you knew what she meant. "everything." the blondes own eyes welled up with tears as you wiped at your face with the back of your arm.

"were you even going to tell me?" you asked, scarily calm as you stared her down, watching her wither underneath your piercingly angry gaze. "no." she admitted after a moment, burying her head in her hands, body wracking with quiet sobs as she began to break.

your legs buckled at that and your body fell to her floor with a small thump, your knees tucking into your chest as you curled into a ball. "so you were going to just leave and what? expect me to just...be okay with that?" you asked, unable to even wrap your head around any of this.

"you're going to college here, i'll be over there. it wouldn't have worked for four years and we both deserve to be able to make the best of this next chapter, i thought i was making it easier if we never had to say goodbye." alessia admitted quietly, both of you refusing to look at one another.

"never mind the fact i'm in love with you. i've been your best friend since we were five less, and you were going to just...get on a plane and leave me for four years without even telling me where you were going." you whispered, barely able to get your words out as red hot guilt flooded the blondes body.

"i was trying to make it easier."

"for who alessia? for you? by avoiding having to even tell me anything and just leaving me without a word? you're a fucking coward!" you almost screamed those last four words, chest heaving as you struggled to hold back a sob.

her silence told you everything you needed to as you broke down, your body convulsing as you sobbed into your hands, alessia covering her ears unable to handle the noise, tears rolling down her cheeks leaving a bitter salty taste in her mouth.

"get off me!" you spat out, shoving her off as she moved to sit down next to you, trying to wrap herself around you in a hug. "get off!" you yelled again, voice cracking as she shook her head, holding you firmly.

eventually she let go, collapsing into herself as you stood to your feet, vision blurry with tears as you stumbled around trying to collect your belongings.

"stop!" you sobbed as she hugged you from behind, yanking your bag out of your hands and dropping it on the floor. "don't leave me, please." she begged, voice no louder than a whisper as her face buried itself in your neck.

"i'm not the one leaving." you pushed her away, the force causing her to stumble as she caught herself and managed to stay standing. "you know now. we still have two weeks!" she tried, almost begging now as you scoffed.

"oh so i have two weeks to wait for you to break up with me? lucky me!" you spat venomously, trying to pick up your bag as alessia kicked it away. "we have two weeks we can spend together before i go. please! i made a mistake, a huge mistake. baby please i love you so much but-" her hands balled at your top, holding you against her.

"if you loved me you would have never lied to me about this. you would have told me the moment you even starting thinking about it! we could have talked it out! worked things out together! now i don't have a fucking choice and you don't understand how unfair that is alessia!" you pushed her harder and harder with every sentence until she smacked into the wall, blue eyes welled up with tears.

"baby please don't go! not like this!" she grabbed you again as you tried, wrapping her arms around you as you fought her furiously, hitting her over and over as her body shook with silent sobs but she refused to let go of you, feeling her tears drip down the back of your neck.

"i would have been okay if we were able to talk about this. if i had time to process this, to make plans with you, to talk about what it could have looked like for us and what we'd be when you were there. i would have supported you and this choice if you'd given me the chance." you finally broke free, stumbling away from her as you gestured between the two of you before furiously wiping at your eyes.

"but you didn't and you weren't going to. you're a liar and a coward and i can't believe i wasted so much of my life trying to show you i care for it all to mean nothing to you in the end. if you love me less, if you ever loved me, then you will do as you planned. you will get on that plane and you will stay out of my life. you're not my girlfriend, not even a friend would do what you just did to me." you wanted to say more, you wished you could find the words, you wished you could hit her again and scream that you hated her and mean every single word you just said to her.

but you didn't, you couldn't, you wished you could, it would have made it all easier.

you didn't allow her the luxury of a response, far too afraid of how easy it may have been for her to talk her way out of this, to lull you into a false sense of safety and security with sweet words and gentle intimate touches. to shower you with affection and quality time and praise, only to rip the rug right out from under you in just two weeks time.

so you left her before she could leave you, and you didn't turn once to look back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

part six

#alessia russo x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #alessia russo #woso blurbs #woso imagine #engwnt #woso

722 notes · View notes

nolita-fairytale · 9 months

Text

burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter eight

summary: you and luca pick up where you left off a week ago.

warnings: fluff, smut (18+ only), literally just p*rn FOR the plot. big note on consent: there is protected (then sort of) unprotected sex in this chapter. the biggest point i'd like to make here is that both characters consent to both kinds and have a very open and honest conversation about it which, if you take away anything from this chapter, it's PLEASE HAVE HONEST CONVERSATIONS WITH THE PEOPLE YOU'RE SLEEPING WITH FOR EVERYONE'S SAFETY. ok rant over.

word count: 4.9k

listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist

a/n: another busy week ahead of me so I wanted to get this out here ASAP, but most likely won't be able to get the following chapter out for a bit. obviously, we don't know what happens w/ marcus' mom, but in this world, she doesn't die opening night of The Bear.

on another note: you guys are seriously the best and leave the sweetest and most excited comments/reblogs. i seriously love it when you guys scream at me in gifs/memes/all caps. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

part seven | masterlist | part nine

“Yeah uh, everything’s been goin’ good. I think Carm’s still trying to deal with everything that happened since opening – I don’t know if you heard but – but… it’s been good,” Marcus says over his FaceTime call with his mentor.

“No, I hadn’t. Eh, haven’t talked to him much since before you visited,” Luca answers, hesitant to ask about what happened during that first night.

“Got locked in the fridge and kinda lost it but… he’s doin’ okay,” Marcus explains, summing up the events of The Bear’s friends and family night.

“How are you doing? How’s your mum?” Luca asks, changing the subject from Carmen to his mentee.

He’s had more contact with Marcus – knows more of what’s going on in Marcus’ life than Carmen’s for a bit now – and Luca wants to make sure he’s being a good friend to him, considering he’d heard about Marcus’ mom’s emergency the night of The Bear’s friends and family night.

“She’s hangin’ on but… it’s not lookin’ great. It’s hard, man. I’m… doin’ the best I can,” Marcus admits, solemnly.

“I can only imagine,” Luca empathizes, because he can’t bear the thought of losing his own mum.

“But uh… anyways, what’s up? What’s new with you?” Marcus asks, his voice much more energetic from the prospect of changing the subject.

“You sure you want to hear about me?” Luca hesitates cautiously.

“Yeah, man,” Marcus agrees. Luca can hear something so sure in his voice, as if Marcus is in dire need of a distraction – to talk about anything but his sick mom. “Shit. I’d love to hear about someone else’s drama for once,”

Luca chuckles softly, his voice light as he replies, “No drama on my end. Though. Ehm… I met a girl. I actually kinda have you to thank for it, mate.”

“What do you mean?” Marcus questions.

“Well. All that talk about inspiration…” Luca says, thinking about how what he’s just makes sense.

“... you know, about being open to things outside the kitchen…. After you left, it made me realize that it’d be a while since I’d taken my own advice. Got stuck on a menu, went out for inspiration, and, well you know what they say: the rest is history.”

He knows it’s not as simple as that, but it seems like Marcus needs a little good news right now.

“Oh shit! How’s that going?” Marcus asks, his tone much lighter now.

“I’m positively chuffed, mate,” Luca chuckles, unable to hide the i’m-very-much-enamored smile that spreads across his face.

“The fuck does that even mean, man?” Marcus teases with a laugh at the oh-so-posh-sounding expression.

Luca laughs again before explaining, “It means I'm pretty damn smitten.”

“Shit,” Marcus sighs.

He can see it all over his face as he continues to see his mentor.

“You’re a goner, man.”

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

Luca walks you home this Saturday evening after his regular dinner date at your restaurant. While you had a steady flow of business tonight, Mathilde and the rest of your kitchen staff made it a point to rally so that you could join him for a bit. It’s been a week since your unplanned sleepover with Luca (and your pleasantly surprising sexy morning after), and you haven’t stopped thinking about it.

Haven’t stopped thinking about him:

The way he called you ‘love.’ The way he watched you fall apart with the most pleased look on his face. The way his fingers felt inside of you.

“Luca,” you begin.

The two of you stand across from one another, at a crossroads. The night could end here. You could say your goodbyes, give him a goodnight kiss, and go your separate ways, but that’s far from the option you’d prefer.

“Yes, love?” he asks you, as if he’s waiting for you to ask first.

There it is again.

Love.

Your eyes flicker from the cobblestone streets then back up to him as you the words fall out of your mouth:

“Do you… wanna come up?”

Something flashes across Luca’s face as he opens mouth to say something, pausing for a moment before answering, as if it’s an agreement to what you’re really asking, an ever-so confident,

“Yes.”

You smile, take a breath, then grab his hand as you turn towards the door to your building. As Luca follows you, the only sound between the two of you are your footsteps as you make your way up the stairs. The tension between you is thick, the anticipation of what happens next palpable, that takes shape as a pregnant silence. Luca is more-than-patient as you unlock your door, welcoming him into your home once again, before locking your front door behind you. He’s busy removing his shoes as you giggle, taking yours off as well.

Once both of you are barefoot, you reach for him, pulling him towards you so that he towers over you, your back pressed against the front door once again.

“This feels… eerily familiar,” Luca jokes softly, so close to kissing you that it hurts.

“Yeah,” you agree, under your breath. This is exactly where he had you a week ago, before you both decided not to do the thing you were about to do. “Think you might wanna… pick up where we left off? Now that neither of us are plastered?”

Luca waits a beat, leaning in and ghosting his lips over yours, causing you to gasp in response to his teasing.

“Do you?” he asks, his voice steady.

He wants to know that you’re sure. Wants to know that you want this as much as him. That you haven’t stopped thinking about the other day when he watched you fall apart on his fingers and how it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Yes,” you answer, your voice unwavering.

He swears under his breath before his mouth is on yours, kissing you so deeply that your head spins. You make a mental note to tell him later how absolutely perfect his lips are – how deliciously plump they are, how they feel perfect against yours, how talented they are. You kiss him back, allowing him to steal the air from your lungs as he does it, crowding you up against your front door.

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you. You push your body against his, surprised at how steady his hands are, while yours feel so desperate, so frenzied, when he reaches for you.

His hands are all over you, leaving confident, strong touches all over your body: pulling you in closer to him by your hips, stroking up and down your back, sliding underneath the hem of your shirt like he’s already done this with you a thousand times before. With his hands already underneath your shirt, exploring new territory, and his mouth leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck, his name leaves your lips like something between a sigh and a moan.

He hums in response, pulling back for a moment. Your heart skips as a beath, as blue eyes lock with yours in a heated, lust-filled standoff.

“Come with me,” you whisper, causing Luca to move aside, letting you lead him towards your bedroom.

On the way there, you flip a hallway light on so that you can at least see where you’re going. You feel his fingers tangle with yours as he grabs your hand, his heart pounding in his chest. As soon as you reach your bedroom, you sit him down on your neatly-made bed, before turning on a small, soft, golden lamp that feels like candlelight.

It’s just enough – more of a nightlight than a lamp, really.

You approach him without a word, and Luca marvels at you. You’re a sight for sore eyes: your hair messy from the heated makeout against your front door, your lips kiss-swollen from the fact that he can barely keep his hands, let alone his mouth off of you, your pupils blow wide with desire for him and only him. You pull your shirt over your head as you climb on to his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck as you press a searing kiss to his lips.

“My god,” he murmurs, his hands coming up to meet the newly exposed skin. You settle into his lap, pressing your hips against his, arching your back into him in response to each touch. “You are so incredibly beautiful.”

You giggle before thanking him.

“Yeah, and I know that you know you’re hot,” you tease him in between kisses, because the man must know what he looks like, right? Luca mutters something about how he wasn’t trying to solicit a compliment from you as he lays back on your bed, taking you with him.

His hands hungrily grab at exposed flesh: the sides of your back, your breasts, the straps of your bra, just to pull them down enough to think he’s going to take it off. Impatiently, you grind your hips against where a tent in his pants has begun to form, earning a moan from his lips as he bucks his hips up to meet your clothed core.

“We should um-,” you start, already so turned on by the way Luca’s body moves against yours that you think you should bring this up sooner rather than later. “Things we should talk about….”

“Yes, my love?” Luca asks, grinding against you again.

You moan in response, throwing your head back as you giggle, knowing that he’s teasing you – testing your patience.

You settle down, just for a moment, both hands going to his well-toned chest. Luca’s hands still around your hips as you say:

“I have condoms. In my nightstand. And I’m also on the pill. I… just got back on it.”

Just got back on it when you started seeing him – you know, just in case this became a thing.

“I haven’t been tested since my yearly physical which was… almost a year ago… but I also haven’t exactly been having sex so,” you add, your eyes flickering away for just a moment before returning to Luca’s very blue ones.

“That’s very sexy,” he smiles up at you, his hands softly stroking your hips.

“What?” you ask with a giggle, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you shoot him a quizzical look.

“This… very direct communication,” he replies with a smirk, grinding his hips back up into yours again.

“Luca!” you squeal in response, catching yourself against him so that you don’t lose your balance.

He grins before answering, “My last test was three months ago at my yearly physical. Clean bill of health.” He pauses before saying the next thing.

“And I’m not seeing anyone else.”

You nod, leaning down to kiss him in understanding, “Okay.”

“Okay,” he replies, bringing you down once more for another passionate makeout.

Luca is right. It’s an even bigger turn on, the open communication, and now that you’ve gotten that conversation out of the way, you’re ready to dive in head first to exactly where you hope this is going. Getting undressed is a sexy, dreamy blur. You’re practically tearing Luca’s shirt over his head, unable to hide the fact that your jaw is near-on the floor as you take it in the hard planes of his abdomen. He expertly removes your bra, and before you know it, he’s gotten you onto your back, and you’re kicking your pants off to the bottom of the bed.

Luca pins both of your hands to the bed overhead with one of his hands – his fingers laced with some of yours as he holds them in place – while his other hand once again makes its way between your legs. You gasp in anticipation, unable to stop the confession that comes out of your mouth.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about that. About you. All week,” you whisper, eager to have him touch you again.

“That so?” Luca asks cockily, in between kisses.

“Yes,” you gasp, squirming underneath your touch as two his fingers dance over your clothed core.

From the wetness pooling between your legs up to your clit, the way he touches you sets off sparks all over your body. You pant, unable to think straight as Luca pulls your pantied aside, his fingertips meeting your wetness immediately. He moans in response to this discovery, his forehead pressed against yours, and you cry out when he finally gives you what you’ve been begging for, as he slips a finger into you.

“Luca,” you sigh, like you’ve gotten the only thing that could remedy your restlessness as of late.

Luca kisses you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth for a millionth time tonight as he begins sliding his finger in and out of you.

“You’re so wet, love,” he coos, teasingly, into your mouth. “It’s too easy. The way my fingers slide in and out of you.” He pushes another finger into you, beginning to stretch you again at a deliciously slow pace. “You want me this much?”

And all you can do is moan, arch your back in response to the pleasure he brings you, his hand keeping both of yours above your head while he has you at his mercy.

“So good,” you cry, as you breathe heavily. “So good. It feels-. Fuck.”

He chuckles cruelly, breaking the kiss between you as he pulls his fingers from you. You whimper in response, impatiently, greedily. The man has you under a sexual spell and you could care less about anything else right now.

“I already know how you feel about my fingers. Think I should give you my mouth too, hm?” he rasps, his question anything but rhetorical.

Luca releases your hands that he’s pinned to the mattress, beginning to kiss down your jaw, your neck, your bare torso, pausing to take each of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flickering across them like it’s a goddamn preview.

“I need to hear you say it,” he commands, his voice quiet yet dominant. Luca pauses, his journey south, leaving hot, open mouthed kisses across your belly as he looks up at you with piercing blue eyes.

“D’you want my mouth? Will you let me taste you?”

“Please,” you’re too quick, too eager to respond when you’re looking down at him, looking down at the sight before you.

Without hesitation, Luca tears your panties down your legs, impatiently tossing them behind him. He begins kissing the inside of your right thigh, alternating between soft kisses, and gentle love bites that have you squealing in delight. You let out soft moans in anticipation, sure that whatever happens next will bring you to an early grave.

A hiss in pleasure escapes your lips as you feel the heat of his breath fan over you, but before your brain can even catch up, Luca’s licking a broad stripe up your core, parting you open for him and only him.

You cry out, your head thrown back as he buries his face between your legs, tracing fierce abstract shapes over your clit. He moans against you, the vibrations too much as you surrender to him. He alternated between sucking and licking, and it’s not till he’s pushing two fingers back into you that your hands are grasping at the sheets, grabbing at the back of his head as your body writhes in pleasure.

You can feel it, that spark so deep in your belly, the coil that winds itself so tightly that the only thing it can do to relieve any tension is to snap.

“Luca. I’m gonna cum,” you beg him, a desperate whine in your voice. “Please don’t stop.”

He doesn’t. It’s as if he couldn’t bear the thought of it – like he could never be cruel enough to deny you what you’re asking for when your voice sounds so sweet, so desperate, so on fire for him.

Using his fingers and his mouth in tandem, he’s relentless in bringing you to your climax, so determined to keep his name on your lips with every gasp, moan, and exhale.

And god, does he love the way it sounds: when you’re moaning it, when you’re begging him not to stop, when you make it sound like a symphony – like he’s just created a goddamn masterpiece.

He’s left you breathless, and all you can do is breathe, allowing your brain to catch up with the pleasure your body has just experienced. Luca makes his way back up to you before pressing a searing kiss to your lips. You can taste yourself on his lips, and you have no intention of stopping now.

You can feel the weight of him as he folds his body over yours. Curious hands begin to move as you become more and more interested in exploring Luca’s body. His muscles flex underneath your fingertips as a reminder of the sheer strength of the man above you. Luca groans as you cup him over his pants, before you begin to undo his pants.

“Do you… want to grab a condom?” he asks softly.

You pause, your hands to meet his gaze with your own.

“Uh.. yeah,” you reply. You had every intention of returning the favor, but perhaps that’s something you’ll save for tomorrow. “Let me just um….”

You sit up, and Luca pulls back, kneeling on the bed as he finishes the job, undoing the button on his pants as you open your nightstand to grab a condom. You place the condom down on the bed next to you, before laying down, your legs spread enough so that Luca can settle between them as you watch him slide his pants and briefs down over his erection.

Holy. Shit.

The man’s an adonis.

And…

Well, you know you shouldn’t be surprised.

He’s 6’ 3” for godssake.

But as you see his cock standing tall, hard, precum leaking from the tip, you’re glad you’ve had quite the night of foreplay so far, especially since it’s been a while since you’ve taken a lover. Instead of hesitating, you sit up just for a moment so that you can pull him over you, pulling Luca down to you for a kiss. He’s quick to respond, using one tatted hand to cradle the back of your head, deepening the kiss as he lays over you once again.

Your right hand makes it way between you, beginning to stroke him, earning a hiss of pleasure from Luca as you wrap your hand around his thick length. He bucks into your hand and you stroke up and down his erection a few times before guiding him towards you, allowing him to use your slick as lubricant as the two of you grind against each.

You know you should do the responsible thing, but you can’t help wondering what it would feel like too. But there’s time for that. Another time for that…

As if he’s read your mind, Luca grabs the condom next to you, before sitting up. He carefully rips open the foil packet before tossing it somewhere on the floor, giving both hands the freedom to slide the latex over his hard on. And then he’s back on you, folding his body over yours as you make room for him between your legs, pressing the gentlest kiss to your lips.

“You sure you want to do this?” he asks, and you think you’ll melt with how damn considerate he is.

“Yes, baby,” you whisper back, it being the first time you’ve called him that. “Yes.”

With your ‘yes’ Luca reaches down, pressing his thick tip against your opening, then begins to push in. You both gasp at the contact as he holds your gaze, and you feel the slightest pinch as he stretches you open. Luca caresses the side of your face, watching you for any sign, any kind of reaction that you’d want to stop. He keeps his eyes on you, pushing deeper, and then deeper, till he bottoms out.

Leaning his forehead against yours as he pauses, he’s got to focus on not cumming right then and there.

“Fuck. You feel so fucking good,” he exhales, letting the way you feel take over him. You’re all warm, wet, pulsing heat and it feels too fucking good.

You give yourself a moment to adjust to his size, before beginning to give him a few experimental movements, grinding your hips where the two of you are connected. Without having to say a word, Luca understands, dragging his hard length out of you at an unbearably slow pace, before pushing back into you, eliciting moans from the both of you this time.

“Do that again,” you murmur, your eyes fluttering close and you focus on the delicious drag of his cock.

He does it again, this time thrusting a little bit harder into you, causing you to moan a little louder this time. His mouth is back on yours as he begins to set a rhythm, thrusting in and out of you while you meet his hips with yours, rocking against him at a pace that matches. It’s as if Luca’s begun to map out your body, wanting to memorize every little thing that makes you tick, that makes you scream, causes you to grasp at any grabbable surface – the sheets, his hair, his back.

His mouth is back on yours, swallowing your moans as he continues to fuck you. You’ve settled into a rhythm that feels just right – something that you can get completely lost in. It could be minutes, hours, days that you’ve been here, chasing mutual pleasure, wrapped up in each other’s arms like you need it to breathe. The way he moves against you is strong, yet gentle as Luca makes love to you, whispering the filthiest things into your mouth, into your ears, the soft canvas of your skin, as if he’s engraving them in stone.

You take me so well. So fucking pretty like this. My beautiful girl.

“Luca,” you gasp, as he gives you a particularly euphoric thrust.

“Hm?” he hums in response.

“Let me ride you,” you request, your eyelids heavy as he stays close to you.

“Yeah?” he asks you, one expressive eyebrow raising up.

“Yeah,” you nod.

Luca kisses you deeply before pausing, pulling out of you and rolling over onto his back. He thinks he’s died and gone to heaven as he watches you climb on top of him, your disheveled sex hair and desire to fuck him seem to awaken something primal in him. As you hover over him, your knees framing his hips, you line yourself up with him before taking him once again.

Luca groans, letting his hands trace gentle patterns up and down your body – his hands smooth over your ass and caress your breasts, as calloused fingertips drag across your stomach, your shoulders, your ribcage – as if he's writing a love letter against your skin.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says, his voice low and gravelly.

He moans, closing his eyes as you begin moving your hips over him, forward and back, beginning to ride him like you’d asked to earlier. Large hands make their way to your hips, as you continue your movements, this time leaning down to kiss him. Luca moans into your mouth as your tongues tangle together, your hips never ceasing their grind against him.

It feels too good.

You feel too good.

You break the kiss this time, placing your hands on Luca’s chest for leverage as you begin to speed up your pace, letting out a moan as you fuck yourself on your lover. Back arched, hair messy, and your head thrown back, you’re completely lost in the way that he feels inside of you.

“Look at you,” Luca marvels, hands everywhere as you bring yourself closer to your second orgasm of the night. “My god, love.”

And before you know it, Luca’s sitting up, sitting tall, wrapping one of his long arms around your torso while the other braces against the bed behind him. He’s thrusting his hips up into you, his hand moving to the small of your back to keep you in perfect harmony with him. The way he hits the back of you with each thrust, how deep he is, how good it feels has you so, so close for the second time tonight. You cry out in response to a particularly hard thrust as your body slumps, resting your forehead against Luca’s shoulder.

You are no longer in control. It’s funny really – and sweet – that he let you think even for a second that you could be. But when he’s bouncing you up and down like this over his hard length, thrusts becoming more erratic, more chaotic, sloppier, you have no choice but to surrender to him. You hold onto his back and his shoulders for dear life as he fucks up into you and you can tell he’s close too.

“God, you’re so good. You’re so fucking good at this,” you whine, all nerves, and explosive pleasure behind your admission.

“I’m close. Baby, are you-?” Luca struggles to get out, the tension in his brow telling you everything you need to know.

“Yes. Harder. Fuck. I’m gonna cum,” you sob, sure that your neighbors will send you the dirtiest or looks when you run into them in the hallway tomorrow.

You cry out as his fingers return to your clit, rubbing hasty circles against you in an effort to take you there with him. All you can do is moan as you busy your mouth with leaving kisses and love bites against his shoulders and chest.

It’s somehow too much and not enough all at once as your orgasm rips through you, your entire body contracting against his. You bite down on Luca’s shoulder, and you think the pain and pleasure combined is what gets him across the finish line as he fucks you through your climax. Before you can properly come down, it’s one, two, and then a third hard thrust up into you before he lets out a primal grunt, pressing your hips down hard against his.

Luca stills inside of you, panting as the ripples of pleasure course through his body, his ears ringing from how hard he came. His eyes meet yours, and he chuckles, moving a piece of hair from your face before tucking it behind your ear.

“Hi,” he smiles, watching you carefully.

“How ya doin?” you ask him, teasingly.

He shakes his head with a laugh before pulling you towards him so that he can kiss you once again.

“I’m great,” he answers, in between kisses.

“Me too,” you agree as your lips curl into a smile against his. You press one more kiss to his lips before pulling back. As you climb off of his lap, allowing him to slip out of you, the two of you hit the mattress like you’ve just run a marathon.

“Come here, love,” he says, encouraging you closer to him.

More than happy to oblige, you curl up to his side, one of your legs wrapping around his as you lay on your side. You giggle, settling into the softness of moment, pressed up against the guy that just fucked your brains out.

“What?” he asks, in regards to your laugh.

“I just-,” you start, before giggling again. “That was really hot.”

Luca gives you a comforting squeeze, hugging you closer to him as you relax even further into his body.

“Yeah it was,” he agrees, a grin spreading across his lips.

He looks over at you to see that you’re on your way to being fast asleep. You’ve closed your eyes, so perfectly tucked underneath his arm as you rest against his body. Luca places a gentle kiss on top of your head as he grins to himself again. He’s not sure what to call it – this thing he’s feeling – because it’s too soon to call it anything, but whatever it is, he knows that his friend was right:

He’s a goner.

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

Luca doesn’t know what he did in a past life to deserve this, but as he watches you take him into your mouth, he knows he must’ve done something right. Your name escapes his lips like a prayer as you spend your morning going down on him, completely incapable of ignoring the hard-on you woke up to minutes ago.

You’d promptly pushed him onto his back before asking if you could.

And who was he to say no?

“Shit,” he hisses, as your tongue runs over the head of his hard, leaking cock.

“Wait, just-. I don’t want to cum yet. I-,” Luca stammers out, using all of his self control not to cum in your mouth right then and there. “I want to fuck you again.”

His words shoot straight to your core as you release him, climbing back over his body and letting him roll you onto your back.

“Do you want me to grab a condom?” he asks you, nipping at your jaw as his fingers discover that you’re already ready for him.

His words from last night echo in your head:

And I’m not seeing anyone else.

“No,” you say, immediately searching his face for some kind of negative reaction. “Is that okay?”

He nods, one side of his mouth turns up into that crooked smile that makes your heart race.

“Fuck,” he rasps, his head spinning as he lines himself up with your entrance, beginning to push in.

“Of course it is, love.”

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down #luca smut #chef luca smut #the bear smut #luca x reader smut

676 notes · View notes

idlerin · 1 year

Text

NONSENSE

an oikawa tooru social media au

pairing. celebrity!oikawa tooru x f!reader

synopsis. you were oikawa tooru’s #1 fan, until you became his #1 hater. you hated him so much you went viral on twitter (accidentally) and literally became known as “the oikawa tooru hater”, doesn’t help that he keeps fueling the fire by subtweeting you. everyone is all in for this new drama. what isn’t known to the public, is that this particular drama’s been on hold for three years (him being your ex and all).

tags. social media au, celebrity smau, college au, exes to lovers, second chance romance, idiots in love, crack, humor (hopefully), fluff, and perhaps a little angst? ehe (groveling !!)

warnings. time stamps dont really matter unless i say so, cursing, some drinking alcohol n stuff and sometimes suggestive but nothing graphic

status. completed (01/15/23 - 02/11/24)

— playlist.

teasers

teaser 1 — teaser 1.5 — teaser 2

profiles

[name]’s pe(s)ts | in need of medical attention

episodes !

(⚘) — has narrative parts

ACT I

01. rid me of my despair

02. murder is ethically wrong

03. he’s literally everywhere

04. i’m NOT petty (⚘)

05. i think i’ve seen this film before

06. he’s back !

07. baby girl of all baby girls

08. the famous friend

09. forget me not

10. why are you running!? (⚘)

ACT II

11. blast from the past

12. i despise you (⚘)

13. villains are hot (⚘)

14. adulting and other important stuff (⚘)

15. what we look forward to

16. a nightmare dressed like a daydream

17. antithetical girlie

18. this is the tactic (⚘)

19. honey it hurts (⚘)

20. exes and ohs

21. takoyaki cravings

22. kill me with kindness

23. tell me, tell me (⚘)

24. do you think about me?

25. wish u were sober (⚘)

ACT III

26. you look like shit (⚘)

27. a taste of fame

28. reminds me of

29. helpless, breathless (⚘)

30. oh how you woo me

31. all over again

32. disconnected

33. this love is so illogical

34. don’t care if you ruin me (⚘)

35. hate clingy men

36. need you like oxygen (⚘)

37. media craze

38. hard to love (⚘)

39. coming home

40. only your love

EPILOGUE

41. new friends

42. love languages

43. utterly nonsensical

end

✦

bonus content

post break-up [name]

don’t you know that i’m intoxicated !

you said you liked the way i spoke

unsent letter #1

one of the boys

kuroo being a menace for 12 panels straight

taglist is CLOSED !

to be REMOVED from the taglist you can just send an ask or comment :)

notes. hey so i’m starting my first smau series?!!? *squeals and kicks feet in excitement* i hope i get to finish it lmao i plan to not make it that long prolly around only like 30 chaps! hope u’ll enjoy reading it as much as i’ll enjoy making it! also thank you everyone for 200 followers! i rlly appreciate it <3

icons used as pfps are not mine but the content of this smau is. please do not repost this on any other platform. © idlerin 2023

2K notes · View notes

bettyfrommars · 4 months

Text

I'm on Fire

chapter 18: the ties that bind

masterlist playlist

18+ MDNI

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

word count: 15k

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

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

-- the ties that bind, Bruce Springsteen

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe a month on a beach somewhere.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had not expected that one

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So easy, just like that.

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

…but was it?

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

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

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

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

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

Start fresh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One week was all you had.

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

—-------

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

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

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

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

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

The old Ferguson Farmhouse was for sale.

—---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thanks to Charlene.

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

But, you’d have Eddie.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Back when he was 19 and she was 23.

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

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

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

She’d be 38 in December.

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

But later that day never came.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m proud of you, son.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everything

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

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

But you were the one keeping a secret.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you ever been in love, Saul?”

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

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

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

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

—-------

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

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

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

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

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

Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was ridiculous. You were being ridiculous.

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

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

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

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

—------

Back at her house, Astrid let the phone ring.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—--

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

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

He didn’t want to smother you.

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

But now he wondered if things were moving too fast.

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

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

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

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

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

but then there was a knock at the door.

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

“Eddie?”

His head snapped around at the sound of the voice.

It was you.

—------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No kidding?” He snorted sarcastically.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eddie.”

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

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

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

“Eddie!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“With me? To Chicago?”

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

“What about Wayne? And Oliver?”

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

“But what about—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—----

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Steve?”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

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

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

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

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

“Steve!”

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

“I’m not dying, Steve.”

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

“I’m pregnant.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Our baby. He couldn’t stop saying it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—------

John Gregson had no idea he was being followed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My type?”

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

He watched John visibly go rigid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-------

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

Astrid had prepared for this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need to talk to you,” he hushed.

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want to move in with me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yikes.

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

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

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

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

“You figured we could be roommates?”

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

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

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

“You think you can make pancakes?”

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

—-------

“WAYNE!”

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

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

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

Maybe the chemo was working? Maybe there was hope?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But once glance was all it took

For you to be fully invested

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

And then, The Velvet Hammer

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

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

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

“What’s up babe? What is that?”

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

“Can I see it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

—------

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

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

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

Steve.

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

A Cinderella story, the reporter called it.

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

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

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

She ran her finger over his face on the newsprint.

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

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

She hadn’t expected that.

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

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

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

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

------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

199 notes · View notes

genghisthebrain · 5 months

Text

Wednesday Addams and Enid Sinclair - House Rules (as imagined by me)

WELCOME TO THE ADDAMS-SINCLAIR MANOR (APARTMENT 3B.) PLEASE READ.

1) Our doorbell does not work. If you want to enter, you have to yell “HOMOSEXUALS” very loudly and we will admit you at our leisure.

2) No fires. Or perhaps we should reword that and say no more fires, due to the multiple infringements that rule already has. Looking at you, Yoko.

3) If you’re not a Nevermore friend, a family member - NOT Enid’s, please - or someone we’ve paid to bring us food, please leave us alone. Write a note, send a text. We don't need to talk in person.

4) If anyone complains about Enid’s housewide playlist, they will be removed. In other words: Enid Sinclair is a musical genius and you should trust everything she says ever.

5) The following list of people are banned until they meet the outlined terms:

Esther Sinclair and Murray Sinclair = Forever, we simply don’t like you. We make the rules. Sue us.

Tyler Galpin = until he returns my eyeliner. Stop stealing it, you dick.

Yoko Tanaka = until she hands over any incendiaries or potential fire hazards of any kind on her person. No more, Yoko.

6) The same applies for anyone who thinks chocolate milk comes from brown cows, that the earth is flat or that Lady Gaga is not a goddess incarnate. You’re all idiots and we simply don’t have the time for idiots.

7) If you’re a door to door salesman, we don’t want it. Stop selling things. Take your vacuum cleaners and double glazed windows somewhere else. Like Xavier’s house. If you yell ‘XAVIER’S ADDRESS’ at the door, we will give you directions. And no, it’s not secure, but neither are we, so to hell with it all.

8) The one exception to this door to door salesman rule is if you are selling piano music. Enid is teaching Wednesday how to play, and Wednesday refuses to learn anything but music sold by, and I quote, ‘shady salesmen who are potentially also criminals.’ So it's the lucky day for you criminal salesmen. Bring your shit.

9) Finally, please sign the piece of paper. We’ve started a petition to persuade Bianca to ask Yoko out on a date. We need signatures. Please, join the cause.

10) If you have any issues with these rules, please feel free to give any queries or criticism to the complaints team (your nearest bonfire.)

Thank you for your time.

#wait_no on ao3 #fanfiction #wednesday 2022 #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wenclair #wednesday x enid #house rules #wednesday headcanons #wednesday and enid #wednesday #wednesday netflix

159 notes · View notes

theharrowing · 8 months

Text

White Lies

Yoongi is everything you could ask for. He is attractive, confident, and smart. And his partner Taehyung is as possessive as he is beautiful. Too bad a relationship would be a major conflict of interest.

You need to have them, at all costs.

🤍 Yoongi x Female Reader x Taehyung

🤍 word count: work in progress (currently 10.5k words) + images of social media posts & text conversations

🤍 college au, partial social media au with a lot of written story, strangers to lovers & established relationship, yandere, hurt/comfort, smut, fluff, angst, slash, poly, minor character injury & death, graphic violence, nsfw, 21+.

🤍 warnings: 🕊 dead dove 🕊. toxic relationships (dishonesty, jealousy, yandere behavior); ACAB includes our MC, sorry you found out this way; corrupt policing. more specific warnings coming soon, pending the release of each chapter.

🤍 part 2 of the Rose-Tinted Obsessions series

🤍 this is a sequel to Boy Blue! i highly recommend that you start at the beginning to fully understand the the dynamic & history between Yoongi & Taehyung. there will be a lot of references to Boy Blue; this fic will spoil the shit out of it. this includes some major character deaths!!! this MC/reader character is not the same MC/reader character from Boy Blue.

🤍 note: all detective work and cop jargon in this fic is either made up on the spot or comes from years of watching/listening to true crime media. i have no credentials in this field and i do not claim to know what i am talking about. for the sake of simplicity & also my sanity, all dialogue that is written and spoken is going to be in English. characters are from Korea and living/working in the US, and we can fill in the gaps between what language they are speaking in which context. also, although i try to keep the mc's physical description vague, i will refer to her as having curves and having hair that can be gripped onto. length and texture will be left vague. places mentioned are completely made up. i may be using actual city and neighborhood names to make it feel real, but every school, bar, etc. is fake and any similarities they have to real places is coincidence.

🤍 also note: this fic is going to be extremely contrived and dramatic, just like its predecessor was. we are not here for award winning story telling; think of it like a trashy daytime soap opera and a gore porn horror film had a baby. obviously, i do not condone the behaviors in this story; it is a work of fiction.

🤍 written parts beta read by @neoneunnajimin

🤍 check out the playlist!

🤍 posted nov. 2023 - present | read on ao3

INDEX

0: Introductions | 0 words + screencaps

1: Do not, under any circumstances, become emotionally attached to either of these men | 2.9k words + screencaps

— TaeGi POV 1: What the fuck is this??? | 0 words + screencaps

2: Sleep sweet, pretty | 7.4k words + screencaps

tag list: @aidam9911 @andrea613 @bangtan-tee-86 @ffion451 @fluffybuns69 @here4kpopfics @icedtaericano @iloverubberduckiez-blog @kiki-zb @lovemeforeternity @mgthecat @moonleeai @mother2monsters @neoneunnajimin @oceansmerchild @unsureofwhathappens 🤍 by asking to join this tag list, you are agreeing that you are at least 18 or older and that you are comfortable engaging in dead dove content. please tell me at any time if you would like to be removed and i will be happy to pull you off.

#yoongi x reader #taehyung x reader #yoongi smut #taehyung smut #taegi #taegi smut #yoongi yandere #taehyung yandere #bts smut #bts yandere #bts social media au

252 notes · View notes

insomniumstella · 1 year

Text

as we slowly die (4) | bucky x avenger!reader

summary: Steve’s silly joke happened to inspire the best, or possibly the worst, idea Wanda had ever come up with — send James Buchanan Barnes and y/n on an all-expenses-paid honeymoon in Hawaii. the problem? they cannot stand to be around each other.

warnings: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, explicit language, alcohol consumption, sarcastic!bucky

word count: 4,620

taglist is down below (please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list!)

author's note: i cannot believe we're at chapter four already ahhh. also, thank you for all of the love and support, it means the world! this series has been too much fun to write. i cannot wait until we get to the end, if you've peeped at the playlist you might've noticed some steamier songs on the bottom for the last chapter — i fear they've given me too many ideas haha

WHERE DREAMS GO TO DIE masterlist

series' SPOTIFY playlist

The third day in Maui had started eerily serene. Dreamy, as if she had not yet abandoned the vivid scenarios and vibrant colors her mind had created.

She had woken up in the early hours of morning alone, with the warm sun rays that had managed to sneak past the blinds and into the bedroom dancing across her exposed skin. Furthermore, the suite’s temperature had been adjusted and the faint buzzing of the AC resembled the most glorious of music. James gave in to my complaints, she had realized, have pigs started flying too?

He had not, however, bothered to leave a note before leaving, and she had not taken the trouble, or cared enough, to text his work phone and uncover the soldier’s whereabouts.

The suite had a Nespresso machine with a delightful selection of coffee pods, and, as y/n lounged on the terrace, cozily curled up on one of the chairs, she couldn’t help but indulge in the faint sounds of the onshore breeze and bitter smell of coffee. She closed her eyes, committing the blissful moment to memory, and stored it deep within the chaos of her thoughts for far scarier and inevitably more uncertain times than a false honeymoon with an insufferable sergeant.

It would’ve been perfect if not for the tinges of anxiety at the pit of her stomach. Last night, she had been convinced that she was in desperate need of Steve’s advice, and, in some ways, she was. He could provide help, but could the woman convince Captain America to lie? Would he trust y/n’s instincts enough to stay silent if James admitted to reopening Elijah’s case? Shit, she realized, dragging a palm across her face out of irritation for allowing one major detail to slip past her plans.

On one hand, she could let go of the idea that James had contacted Steve, but on the other — Steve would skin them both if he found out they had begun reinvestigating Elijah Williamson. Mark Basso, the person she craved to probe, had never been tied to the politician, as far as y/n was aware, but Steve wouldn’t need to suddenly possess Wanda’s magic to miss a blatant lie. There had to be a way to obtain information without arousing suspicions.

Wanda had been on probation since the destruction of a building complex in Paris. Natasha had left for a mission in Singapore before the Maui trip and would, lamentably, return after. Tony would be no better than Steve if he found out James and she had gone against the wishes of the justice system and the FBI.

Sam, she scoffed at her absurdity for excluding The Falcon, Sam would know what to do.

The coffee had been long forgotten by the time she gathered the courage to text Sam’s number. Perhaps her concerns had been for nothing. Sam was a righteous man, yes, but he was also y/n’s floormate, and the two would often find themselves in the middle of trouble. The fun, laugh-until-we-can’t-breath kind of trouble. Though it was not the foundation of their bond, the pair’s mutual dislike towards James had led to countless nights of free-flowing tequila and extensive conversations. Sam was a compassionate friend and an incredible soldier who, unlike the captain, trusted y/n’s abilities and judgment entirely. It was never Steve who she had needed. Sam had been the answer all along.

BEST AVENGER: Sam! I’m in desperate need of a favor.

BEST AVENGER: I’ll do whatever you want.

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: anything?

BEST AVENGER: ANYTHING.

Anything was not a word she’d often use when it regarded offers, but if he’d gather the information she needed to prove her theory, there was a slim chance of y/n performing anything Sam wanted of her.

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: I want my laundry washed, ironed, and folded for the next month.

Except for that. She had bribed Rhodey to do laundry for her years ago. It had been surprisingly easy, considering he enjoyed a particular Portuguese dessert, and y/n, as a fan of pastel de nata herself, had the best spots in New York to obtain said dessert memorized. Rhodey would receive a bag of pastéis de nata, and, in return, she’d receive her laundry washed, ironed, and folded week after week. The woman doubted Rhodey would agree to do the same for Sam as the Falcon had been an avid pastéis de nata hater.

BEST AVENGER: we can negotiate the terms when I get back.

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: what do you need?

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: if this is about Thomas, I took him out.

BEST AVENGER: who’s Thomas?

Confusion clouded her features. Thomas, Thomas, she searched her brain for anything until it hit her, fuck. The last few days had been too hectic to remember Thomas, the compound’s weaponry assistant, inviting y/n out on a date to a nearby dive bar with incredible appetizers and dirt-cheap cocktails. The bar would never be treated as the best place for dates, but she had fallen in love with it, including Jennifer, the bartender, who’d ring her vodka Red Bulls as single-shot cocktails and pour two shots in the concoctions instead.

BEST AVENGER: never mind, except for the part of you TAKING HIM OUT?!

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: on a date.

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: it was a manly date. We drank beer and ate nachos. Watched a football game. He’s a pretty cool guy. Why’d you ghost him?

BEST AVENGER: what is a ‘manly’ date?

BEST AVENGER: also, I forgot.

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: you have to apologize when you get back. I’d love him as a brother-in-law.

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: and don’t worry about it.

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: I thought you needed a favor?

I should apologize, she silently agreed. Thomas was a man not only kind but beyond funny. She had stayed up for hours to talk to him, and though she had found herself being lectured by James the next day when she could barely keep her eyes open during a meeting, y/n had not regretted the decision. Thomas and his witty jokes had been worth it.

BEST AVENGER: please look up Mark Basso. Send me every file you can find, any photos or security cam footage, especially if he’s near Elijah Williamson.

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: Elijah Williamson?

She could almost hear the interest in Sam’s tone as she raked her eyes over the words.

BEST AVENGER: pinky promise to not tell Steve?

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: if the laundry will get washed, pressed, and folded for the next month, yes.

Tony might give into y/n’s innocent eyes and distressed monologue of ‘we need to hire a housekeeper, so the world can get saved’. He had to because she texted Sam back without giving the action much consideration.

BEST AVENGER: fine.

Sam’s reply came several minutes later, proving the minor of her concerns.

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: wanna tell me the reason why you’re interested in a former HYDRA operative?

She did, except there was no way to reveal her outrageous theory of Elijah Williamson and Mark Basso without terrifying Sam, so the only response she could think of sending was limited to a short and simple —

BEST AVENGER: no.

It was deep into the evening when she had abandoned the suite.

The single time James had returned, y/n had been on the terrace, basking in the sun and scanning over the room service’s options; he had disappeared as hastily as he had come. It shouldn’t have bothered the woman, she had tried to not let his behavior disturb her peace, and yet … it did.

A sole greeting would’ve sufficed, an acknowledgment, whether surly or amicable, would’ve lifted the weight off her heart, but James had chosen radio silence as his weapon. It had been a foolish mistake to wonder whether something between them had changed.

It had not.

She needed a break from the break or the vacation Wanda had fooled her into.

Wanda and Steve would decidedly receive a lengthy monologue of ‘what the fuck were you two thinking by sending James and me on a fucking honeymoon in Hawaii’ when she got back. She had always refrained from cussing too much when Steve was in earshot, but desperate times allowed desperate measures.

The past two days had been the opposite of y/n’s expectations. Had she expected margaritas, scorching sun, and below-average pizza in the 24/7 lounge? Yes. Had she foreseen being roped into the eminently criminal lives of Elijah Williamson, Mark Basso, and the unfathomable reason why would the two take interest in Steve Rogers? She would’ve predicted a truce with James Buchanan Barnes before she had anticipated the disaster. Or sex. She would’ve envisioned sex with James before she would’ve forecasted the mess they had gotten into. Not that y/n would ever want to have James naked, sweaty, and hot from sinful activities, of course. Absolutely no.

She forced her mind to return to the problem at hand. Steve Rogers was an intriguing man, a mere science experiment in the forties, a true hero in modern times, and crowds of people desired to meet him. However, a corrupted politician and a former HYDRA officer? As soon as they had entered the suite after enduring the yacht party, she had wondered whether it was a lighthearted chat over a beer they’d want from him, and each thought had led to the answer of definitely not. She had also pondered over Bucky and his muscular arms, but that she’d rather not remember, for the shame would consume her whole. Get a grip, she had scolded herself then.

Mark Basso and Elijah Williamson as formal acquaintances would be the best-case scenario. The worst scenario she could conceptualize had been Mark and Elijah hoping to recreate the super soldier serum. It had been the fall of HYDRA, and it would be poetic for it to be the beginning of a new wave of criminals. It’d also explain Elijah’s interest in The Winter Soldier rather than in James.

That was her final theory — Elijah and Mark desired to produce super soldiers. She had decided it was far better than James’s ‘HYDRA exists’. It only needed the answer as to what the two had been planning on using the super soldiers for and what crimes had they already committed. And proof. It desperately needed evidence.

Sam had confirmed Mark to be a HYDRA operative, but he had also observed that Mark had been marked as deceased. He had gone through heaps of files, each identifying the man as deceased or missing, dating back to seven years ago. She hoped Sam would find the footage from the gala in Germany. It had taken place two years ago, she was certain, for she had attended. The database had to contain fraudulent documents.

Sam had a unique method to the madness, but y/n trusted him on the field, and she trusted him to meticulously search through complex databases. He’d contact her soon, and, in the meantime, the perfect opportunity had presented itself. It was as if her intuition had led y/n to a secluded area on the beach just south of The Maui Resort.

She trailed after the sound of music, ducking palm leaves. The sun had long fallen, and the icy touch of the sand clawed at her bare feet. Jordan, the woman remembered, the party’s tonight. She would not describe her worn-out tee and tiny shorts as party attire, but it’d have to do.

“Hi!” Jordan abandoned the lounge chair, weaving around people on the bamboo deck. “She remembered.” She had not realized their height difference until he was standing in front of the woman, looking down at her with a boyish grin. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Hi.” She returned the grin, studying his drunken expression. “I like the braids.” It was an honest compliment, and she returned his embrace when he hugged her as a thank you.

“Appreciate it.” His smile showcased his teeth this time. “I like the shirt.”

“Thank you.” She spun around to showcase the vintage AC/DC tee she had thrifted almost four years ago and cocked her head to the side. “I don’t usually wear oversized tees to parties, but it might’ve been the correct choice.” Playfulness colored her tone as she referred to his bare chest and lounge shorts.

“It was.” The boy nodded. Though he had mentioned recently turning twenty-four during the anniversary dinner, she decided he’d do a great job at blending in as an ordinary freshman at college. It might’ve been his carefree attitude at the core of it all.

“Mmmh,” she watched him through hooded eyes, holding his stare before her eyes dipped lower.

His skin was scattered with tattoos, intricate art pieces, and tiny doodles adored most of his upper body, resting on the lean muscle of his biceps, adonis belt, and pecks. The ink was on the verge of blending into the golden brown of his skin, creating a strikingly beautiful contrast.

“Let me get you a drink,” Jordan’s hand slid to the small of y/n’s back as he led her further into the backyard, “can I get you a drink?” He questioned, flashing another grin when she perched on the terrace’s wide railing. Hints of cockiness had infiltrated his tone.

“Yes, please.”

James had zero recollection of the path he had taken to wind up at an unfamiliar house. One moment he had been at the Hale ‘A bar, drowning his solicitudes in dirty martinis, and the other, his own body had stopped listening to his commands, leading the way against Bucky's wishes.

Fairy lights bled a soft glow onto the cozy couches and the tiny kitchen on the first floor of the house. The backyard was decorated with lights too, James could see through the window, from where he was sprawled out on the cushions. His body had taken him to The Maui Resort’s staff party, a place in which he shouldn't have been, yet decided upon staying in anyway.

This morning he had woken up at the crack of dawn, laying motionless as he listened to y/’s shallow and uniform breathing. He had taken a peak at the woman, her figure deep in peaceful slumber, before slipping into the bathroom and swiftly abandoning the suite altogether.

James had silently cursed himself out for the heavy silence between them. It was, partially, on him, but she had not made an effort to text him either. Forced conversations had been the norm for years, and yet the pair had strayed far away from the shared standard in the past two days. A line had been blurred, both had sensed it. Perhaps he had been a fool to indulge in fictitious hope of the relationship between them ever shifting. The two were not destined to become friends, James would never want to be friends. It was best they stayed somewhat professional, balancing on the line of nemeses and cordial co-workers.

“You look like a gin and tonic kind of guy,” a redhead pushed a drink into his flesh hand, “god,” she sighed, plopping next to him, “I hope you’re a gin and tonic kind of guy.”

James was a Thor’s Asgardian ale kind of gal, favoring the only alcohol, which could effortlessly provide him a pleasant buzz, but the woman’s expression reeked of insecurity, the hue of her eyes overflowing with doubt.

It was evident she found James attractive from the way she’d play with the ends of her fiery waves to the way, she scooted closer and closer until the space between them had vanished. Though James didn’t move a muscle to push her away, the closeness between him and the stranger was fairly uncomfortable. It had been more relaxing to have y/n, the last woman he’d think of for such an occurrence, sit on his lap. Her sun-kissed skin had been remarkably soft against the soldier’s, her thighs a perfect weight to rest atop his own, her nimble fingers subconsciously drawing patterns on his forearms the most peculiar of comfort. Get a grip, James, he winced at the direction his mind had taken, you cannot find y/n attractive.

“I am,” James lied through his teeth, wondering whether the woman had recognized him as the Winter Soldier.

“Good,” she nodded, propping a bent arm on the couch’s backrest. “You look awfully familiar,” the redhead drained half her drink, “have we met before?”

James sincerely hoped they haven’t, for it would mean she had encountered the version of him James preferred to keep under wraps these days.

“I doubt it.” He shrugged, staring at her.

She was an undoubtedly gorgeous woman, and she wanted him. The redhead desired James, and it was the strangest emotion. He could never sweep his past as a ruthless assassin under the rug. She, presumably, had not identified James as such, and yet he couldn’t allow himself to believe she, or most women for that matter, would crave him.

Except for y/n. He had permitted himself to accept that y/n had wanted him by the way she had repeatedly clenched her thighs on the god-forsaken boat. It might've been delusional, he understood, but if she had not squirmed in his lap for the reason of lust, what else could it have been?

Anxiety, you big buffoon, James scolded himself. The disgraceful thoughts of y/n would one day be the end of him, and the soldier feared the day might be closer than he could envision.

“Maya!” A deeper voice rang through the room. It was Jordan, the waiter, James recognized, who was leaning against the doorframe. “Where are the mics?”

The redhead jumped from the couch, rummaging through a woven basket before waving two microphones in the air. James stared at the man, attempting to distinguish the figure behind him. He could not see the person’s face, but dread washed over James as soon as the woman giggled.

“I love karaoke,” she admitted, drunkenly holding onto his waist, “can we sing Life Is A Highway?” The sound, which slipped past y/n's lips, was muffled, and James guessed she had rested her face against the waiter's exposed back.

Jordan stepped aside, reaching back to catch y/n's forearms in his tattooed hands before he tugged her in his direction to clear the doorway and make room for someone else, a guy less intoxicated.

"Jordan!" A sound from the deck slithered inside. "I think you two should stop with the drinks!" He called out, popping his head into the room to rake his eyes over Jordan's figure once more before disappearing.

"Alright!" Jordan called after him and focused his attention on y/n, a lazy smirk painting his expression. "Yes, we can," he squatted down to mess with the TV, a tangle of cables, and the pair of microphones, "and we should."

Though the house, both inside and out, was crowded, she’d undeniably notice James, cheeks flushed, shirt wrinkled from when he had hurriedly dressed in the morning without ironing the clothing article. Unless, of course, the state of her mind was beyond heavy tipsiness and bordered on harsh intoxication.

“It’s only the best song ever,” She giggled again, leaning against a dresser, her eyes fixated on Jordan’s hunched form.

James had never seen y/n loosen up as if the world outside the territory of the staff house did not exist. As if every single one of her worries held no weight at that moment. As if he was not sitting just a couple feet away from her, the redhead breaching his personal space, her head lazily resting on his flesh shoulder. She wouldn’t care, he thought, why should I?

“Lick It Up by KISS is a close second,” Jordan chuckled when the karaoke app on the TV belatedly turned on, the screen glowing dark purple. “Right above You Shook Me All Night Long by AC/DC.” He offered her a microphone.

The woman took it without hesitation, turning her back to James entirely.

“You did shake me all night long,” yet another giggle slipped past her lips, her drunken movements far slower than customary, “and I loved it.”

James had zero clue of what the comment could reference.

“C’mon,” Jordan chuckled, clicking on Life Is A Highway in the app, “it was the least I could do after that bastard husband of yours abandoned the anniversary dinner.” He narrowed his eyes, lost in the memory. "I suppose he did show up, but what kind of a man is almost an hour late to meet his wife for a celebratory evening?"

“No!” Maya, the redhead next to James, gasped. “Are you married?”

She stayed silent for a beat longer than she should’ve. “Yes," the innocent piece of fiction rolled off y/n's tongue.

“And your husband missed a fourth wedding anniversary celebratory dinner?” It was a mess of a sentence, but James had a sober idea the gin and tonics were to blame.

“Partly,” she replied, gawking at the TV — the track was about to play, "he arrived late on purpose and,” she blurted out before the white letters had the chance to turn yellow, indicating it was her time to sing, “I’m considering a divorce.”

It was apparent the two had either consumed more alcohol than their limits supported or were too preoccupied with one another and the karaoke to notice James, the abhorrent husband, sprawled out on the sofa.

"How can a man get married," Jordan commented, eyes glued on the screen in front of him, right arm loosely draped across y/n's shoulders, "and treat his wife in such an outrageous way is beyond me."

"Agreed," James chimed in, exhausting the red plastic cup of the gin and tonic, "the husband is a jerk." The sound of his voice was louder, bolder.

She didn't notice his presence or, perhaps, she did, and solely pretended to miss Bucky's distinct tone. Perhaps Life Is A Highway had consumed y/n's attention, too. James would've never deemed her as a great singer, but then again, he had never heard y/n sing, the man observed as she stayed on key, effortlessly hitting all of the notes.

It was only Maya, who acknowledged James, mumbling a low “mmmh.”

Jordan's hand snaked down to y/n's waist, and James averted his gaze to silence the ugly emotion some tended to describe as jealousy.

"I found a water bottle in the mini-fridge," his voice was a meek sound in the night's wind, "placed in on the bedstand in case you'd need it," she didn't speak when he dropped into an empty seat on the suite's terrace beside her, "you look rough."

You look rough, she replayed the remark in her head and chuckled, surrendering into Bucky's sarcasm, for it was an understated statement. The staff party, while fun, had not been kind on y/n's appearance, though the woman couldn't care less as the memories, if she could remember any in the morning, had been worth it. The night had been rich in alcohol, music, and dance.

A silence settled between the pair. She sought to establish a description best fit for the stillness, yet every acceptable name would die on the tip of y/n's tongue.

The moment sanctioned James an opportunity to forget life outside Maui. To care for y/n by ensuring she had water and a brisk bedroom to sleep in. To abandon the emotions, she had been familiar with and showcase his inner self that had never desired war in the first place.

It was James who disturbed the peace, "have you always been carefree, or have I been too big of an asshole to notice?"

She laughed, the sound of it boisterous and genuine. "I am everything, but carefree," her tone was firm, calculated, mournful even, "but the world continues moving forward as we slowly die."

Carefree was a foreign word in her vocabulary. The woman had not been a carefree agent nor a carefree friend, always concerned over problems that were not her own. Her heart had always been y/n's greatest strength and worst weakness, she realized, staring into Bucky's curious eyes. It might be the vodka speaking, she considered, but I could be nicer to James. In the past, she'd rather perish into dust than involve herself in anything regarding the soldier.

"We are dying," he observed, "every last one of us."

"It's the cruel truth of the universe," she nodded, bringing her knees to rest on the woven chair, "we experience living in parallel with death." It was the harshest of jokes. "If I notice a rare opportunity to melt away stress and lift the weight of saving the world off of my shoulders, why wouldn't I take it?" The question was one of the rhetorical kind.

The burden of rescuing the world and its residents would inevitably break y/n into unsalvagable pieces one day, but, it was also a remarkable reason to push forward.

"When I sneeringly suggested we kiss yesterday," the corners of his mouth turned up into a weak smile, "it wasn't an invitation."

The woman gasped, amusement glimmering in her eyes, and spoke before James could clarify the sentence, "I would never take it as such."

"Outstanding," he cocked his head to the side, eyebrows raised in merriment, "but the remark wasn't all sarcasm," his fingers mindlessly picked at the loose strands of the chair's cushion, "I don't hate you."

And there it was — a second observation for y/n to add to her mostly blank image of James Buchanan Barnes. The former soldier was vulnerable, despite his icy exterior suggesting otherwise.

"I don't hate," she began declaring and hastily paused, thinking her next words through, "alright, I do hate you," Bucky's mouth fell open in faux shock, but she continued before he could bite back, "but you break me in training, and you snitch to Tony whenever I drive his stupidly expensive cars, and you bring Rhodey pastéis de nata, so he'd stop doing my laundry," she hiccuped, drunkenly eager to list further reasons.

"It hasn't worked yet," James admitted, "I'd guess there are a lot more arguments for your disdain towards me," the sentence, though not formulated as such, rung through the night as a question.

"You'd be correct. You hid Natasha's favorite suit and blamed it on me. Who does that?" A soft punch landed on his bicep. "That was an exceptionally low blow, Barnes, even for you." Playfulness colored her tone with hints of resentment clinging to it.

"Yes," there was no shame in the sentiment, "but you knew I was lactose intolerant when you switched out the milk."

She giggled under her breath, "oops." The word held no guilt. "Besides, I am James Barnes intolerant."

A tender sigh slipped past his lips, "how about a truce? I carry you to bed, and you never touch my almond beverages ever again?" James suggested, taking notice of y/n's heavy eyelids as she attempted to appear awake.

The answer had not been a sound but rather an action. The woman outstretched her arms, suggesting Bucky's almond milk would remain untainted if her body would soon reach the comfort of the suite's bed.

It did. She had fallen asleep as soon as her figure had ended up in James's arms.

Sleep tight, he thought, retreating back to the couch and abandoning the sinful idea of sleeping beside y/n on the single bed in a massive bedroom, for tomorrow's hangover will be brutal.

TAGS:

@legohe4rts @missvelvetsstuff @browneyedgirl22 @gr33nleo @thatrandomcatoverthere @fiftywhore1 @buggy14 @nt-multi-fandom @physically-im-fine @marygoddessofmischief @fuckthealarm @nyutasgirl @cjand10 @stokzr @jesterstrange @youtubersshipper @oneshotofvodkaa @emily-roberts @desert-fern @itsyellow @love-of-less @melissareadsstuff @mcucatlady @xxwritemeastoryxx @lilbloggs @ambrosia1846 @verrahigh @skittle479 @she-wolf09231982

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky series #bucky barnes series #bucky x you #bucky x reader smut #bucky x reader series #bucky barnes x reader series #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x female reader #insomniumstella #Where Dreams Go to Die #where dreams go to die bucky #where dreams go to die bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader

491 notes · View notes