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#biker!series
bettyfrommars · 1 year
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I'm on Fire
biker!Eddie x fem!artist!Reader
90's au
MDNI, 18+ ONLY
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 2.5 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 -Part 17 - Part 18
Summary: it's the mid-late 1990's and Eddie owns a mechanic garage/tow truck service with his Uncle Wayne. Reader is an artist who gets a flat tire on the freeway, and the rest is kismet. Lots of sexual tension, biker bad boy Eddie with a soft heart, both not sure how to navigate this adult crush they have on each other, amidst other complications. No Vecna, and they all met when they were young, but as very different people. Eddie and Steve are heavily tattooed and grew up in the MC life. Steve is tough and I guess a fuckboy, but he’s also so much more. There will be dark themes later in this fic: cheating, violence, domestic abuse, etc, so please continue with caution. Appearances by uncle Wayne, and eventually some other ST characters. Plenty of referrences for SOA fans to enjoy, though I don't go into detail about their ranks and whatnot. Eddie is in his early 30’s and reader is late 20’s to early 30’s.
P L A Y L I S T
Series One Shots
more goodies below the cut
AO3
biker!eddie edit
biker!Eddie posing for a painting
The Velvet Hammer
Steve & Robin's house
Eddie's apartment above the garage
A/N: This was the very first reader insert series I ever wrote for fandom. I adore those of you who have taken the time to show love for this! It's so nice to be able to share these stories with others and not just watch it rot away on my computer. Inspired by the song and video I'm on Fire by Bruce Springsteen
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buckrecs · 1 year
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ur account is my absolute go to!!! any chance u could rec biker!bucky fics 🥺🥺🥺
Biker!Bucky
masterlist | req masterlist
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ONESHOT
Wanted by @jadedvibes
You consider ending things with Bucky after seeing a girl come on to him, but it's not that easy, and you get a hard reminder about who he really wants in the clubhouse bathroom.
Best Friends? Nah. by @wicked-mind
Classic best friends don’t realize feelings for each other until someone points it out.
Business as Usual by @world-of-aus
Not My Babe by @avecra
After a nasty break up to a nearly two year relationship, you find yourself dragged to a bar by your best friend, though a familiar blue-eyed biker makes the best of your crappy situation.
rough around the edges by @wndalovebot
Let Me Love You Old School by @mysecretlittlelibrary
Bucky meets you at a diner and plans to sweep you completely off your feet.
The Bogeyman and Other Monstrosities by @pellucid-constellations
As the local biker club president, Bucky Barnes had a reputation for being tougher than nails and feared by many—he’d never be caught dead at a halloween street fair. Too bad his best girl always got what she wanted.
Waiting Game by @buckychrist
You knew being associated with one of the most notorious and dangerous biker gangs in the city was bad, let alone scandalously dating their kingpin in secret, but you never thought you’d have to face those consequences. Until now.
Home by @all1e23
Bucky runs into his ex at a winter carnival the MC is helping host, but she didn’t come alone.
Whatever It Takes by @sgtjbuccky
Bucky Barnes knows the way to drive you up the wall in frustration, fed up with it, you show him that you know how to play just the same.
deny me by @drewbarymore
In which you feel like Bucky’s ashamed of you.
Drunk, Dumped and Empty by @green-eyeddragonfanfiction
After a nasty breakup, you go out drinking. After an absolute creep hits on you, you’re saved from a concussion by a mysterious, kind man, who reveals himself to be Bucky Barnes. The bar you’re in is a bit suspect, but you never expected him to be head of a biker gang.
yayo by @sergeantxrogers
“I need you safe. I need you here, and I need you safe, and I need, God please, I need you to let me in, baby, just let me in and I promise I’ll make it all better,” his broken voice pleaded through the door.
Drabble by @fandoms-writings
Biker!Bucky x tattooed!reader
hot and cold by @bucksfucks
you & bucky had never gotten along, but when your ex-boyfriend ransom turns up at the same bar you’re at, bucky goes to every length to protect you.
How To Get Away With Murder by @empyreanwritings
Bucky was always good at helping you clean up your messes, which is why he doesn't bat an eye when you show up on his doorstep covered in your abusive boyfriend's blood.
Hush by @buckysknifecollection
Bucky finds a stray kitten but he doesn’t know anything about cats. A friendly librarian helps him out.
little favors by @onceuponastory
Since Bucky saved her from her shitty boss, Y/N hasn’t seen him again. For a while, she gets closer and closer to giving up hope. Until he comes back. And this time, he’s asking for her help.
SERIES
Swallow by @all1e23
Since he was fifteen years old, Bucky Barnes has only been sure of two things; the club should be the most essential thing in his life, and he’d burn it all down for you.
Delicate Edges by @wkemeup
Your family’s beloved flower shop was not the only thing you inherited when your parents passed. Trapped under a mountain of debt to the Hydra club, you bear the cost of your father’s desperate bargain. It’s only in moments when the charming Bucky Barnes walks into your shop that you can forget the cruelty of the biker clubs of this town. But a war is brewing. The border is crumbling. You're trapped in the middle. And Bucky will stop at nothing to keep you safe.
For The Best by @metalbuckaroo
Bucky is tired of waiting for you to realize what you're doing. He does the only thing he can think of to break the cycle.
White Horses by @whitewolfbumble
Kicked out of school and exiling yourself in a town time forgot, one little incident lands the sights of the locally infamous Avengers biker gang square on you. Wild horses run faster and there was no chance to turn back now.
Howlin’ For You by @invisibleanonymousmonsters
When Y/N gets an unreal deal on her first home, she wonders why her neighbor scared away all the other buyers. Despite being cautious, she wonders why the town has given Bucky Barnes a bad name.
Brotherhood & Bullets by @rookthorne
The 107th motorcycle club has been the protector of their collective hometown for many, many years - shouldering all the bloodshed and loss that came with it. Little did you know, you'd become the President's own twisted version of an angel on his shoulder; the tips of your angelic wings tinged red by your own demons.
Stars & Stripes, Studs & Spikes by @buckyismybicycle
The crew has always been tight, but you and Bucky are best of friends. When Bucky sees Brock's mark on you, he nearly loses it and wants to end Brock for good. But, there's something more important - keeping you safe.
call me baby by @cherryrogers
Returning to Brooklyn for the summer after a year of travelling from city to city, you hadn’t expected to find your best friend, Peggy Carter, hopelessly in love with a biker, and when she decided to introduce you to the rest of his club, you hadn’t expected to fall for one either — that was until you met one with pretty eyes and a habit of calling you baby.
Masterlist by @angrythingstarlight
Masterlist by @metalbuckaroo
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itiswormtimebaby · 9 months
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to be loved
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Bucky and Bug have loved each other in some capacity for well over a decade, since he was just her older brother’s larger-than-life best friend and she was just...Bug, as in bug off, as in shoo fly shoo. One night, one stupid weed-laced mistake, is all it takes to change the trajectory of a relationship that’s been in the making for years. Written in 2nd person POV. 
Pairing: Biker!Bucky and Bug (+Brother’s best friend Bucky, Plus sized fem reader) (Steve is reader’s adopted brother)  Series Warnings: Smut (explicit), experienced Bucky, virgin reader, language, low self-esteem, past toxic relationships, negative self talk, angst
HWITA are more often than not quick (often very smutty) peaks into this couples life together, both past and present, they tend to be a bit more informally written. Titles in bold represent the main bulk of the story.
HWITA All the ass Bucky kicked on your behalf growing up  HWITA Bucky “comforting” you when you get too high Consequences All actions have consequences as Bug is painfully aware (alternatively: Bucky has a strange way of asking you out).
Fifth Date Bucky and Bug’s fifth date takes an unexpected turn (alternatively: Bucky isn’t sure he’s good at dating but knows he’s good at sex so he tries to play to his strengths).
HWITA You’ve never been eaten out and Bucky takes that personally HWITA Bucky “loving”  your thighs  Just the tip Bucky’s resolve is weakening under how prettily you beg. Strengths (and weaknesses) That night you’d gotten high, that night that changed everything, he could hardly believe his luck. You’d opened the door for him, given him an in for something more. A better man would have shut it.  Time You’re beginning to question why Bucky won’t sleep with you, but you ask the wrong person
Further thoughts on Bucky, Bug, and the Biker!verse HWITA Bug’s self esteem and Bucky’s thoughts on her body HWITA What the boys call you and why HWITA The boys “kickstand” sizes  HWITA The boys when it comes to physical fights Anon asks: Body count Bucky keeps Bug fed NSFW alphabet: KNW
See THE WORM HOLE for main masterlist.
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twilghtkoo · 10 months
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ride: rendezvous [part two] jjk
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“where we going?” “you’ll see.”
summary. you’re having one of the worst days so jungkook takes you to his favorite place
pairings. biker!jungkook x reader (f)
genres/aus. fluff, comfort, s2l, f2l, college au
warnings. slight peek of popular!jk, reader has anxiety, mentions of a panic attack
word count.
notes. this series is in chronological order so this is a bit after their first date!! a scene that i wrote is inspired by a tiktok i saw 🛐 guys i was deadass when i said i keep seeing motorcycle tiktoks on my fyp T__T it was so random but my brain somehow connected it to jungkook, anyway !!! stream still with you and likes/reblogs are appreciated >_<
[ series masterpost | masterlist | taglist ]
you failed.
you failed the test.
you stared at your laptop screen, the big, bold, red colored fifty-nine almost mocking you in a sense. if the nine grew a pair of eyes and a mouth it’d be laughing at you right now.
you don’t get it. you’ve studied for this test, knowing it’d play a big part in your overall grade, and you still managed to flunk it.
tears started to form, blurring your vision, before you remember that you’re in the library that occupy other fellow students that don’t need to see a mental breakdown and a forming anxiety attack. even though they probably would’ve understood. you shut your laptop and shove the electronic inside your bag, standing up to push your chair in to make your way to the exit doors.
jungkook isn’t here with you today. he was working on a project with a couple of his classmates somewhere on campus, you can’t remember his text.
and although you wish you could just dial his number and cry to him, you don’t. no matter how bad your chest is tightening. instead, just taking the bus home and already deciding to have a crying session with your pillows.
-
“see you later jeon.”
jungkook waves one last time to namjoon and taehyung, his classmates, before he heads in the opposite direction. shoving his hands in the front of his jean pockets as he takes his time to walk to the campus’s parking garage.
he can feel the stares of the people who pass by but he ignores them.
he’s reminded of the one girl who’s been on his mind and he pulls his phone out to see if he’s gotten any notifications from you. but there’s none.
that’s strange. he pouts at his screen, only a few notifications being emails from his teachers and some from social media. but they don’t speak out to him the way yours do. he’s familiar with your schedule so he knows you’re out of class already. you usually text him to tell him how your class went and spam his tiktok with a dozen of tiktoks— he watches them all by the way.
before he concerns any further, his phone dings and he freezes.
“oh, jungkook!” a girl shouts from behind him, waving to get his attention. quickly glancing at her before he starts to pick up his pace. is she from one of his classes? he can’t remember.
he gives a tight lipped smile before he starts jogging. “can’t talk right now.”
yn 👑
ur out of class aren’t u, can u come over? ;-;
-
you got home about an hour ago and you still haven’t broke down. the heavy weight on your chest was becoming too much, but why won’t your body let you give out.
you groan out loud, turning over on your bed and clutching your plushie that looks like it’s been through hell and back— you’ve had it since you were a kid, okay— tighter against your chest. hoping it’ll ease the pain in your chest.
the familiar roar of a motorcycle awakens you and you’re quick to hop on your feet and rush to your door.
by the time you open your front door jungkook was just walking towards you.
“hey princess, eager to see me?” he chuckles, brushing back the strands of hair from his forehead with his tatted hand. it’s the same strands that have you itch to brush them yourself. an action that seemed too intimate, you weren’t sure if you could handle that. but you wanted to test the waters.
not trusting what you would say if you opened your mouth so you nod.
“you okay? anything happened today?” he asks while stepping into your home after you told him to come in. it’s not the first he’s been inside your home, your safe space that surrounds colors, photos and a scent that screamed you.
from his questions, the tightening feeling in your chest returned and you wince.
your fists are by your sides, opening and closing.
“i think i’m okay, i don’t know. and yeah, something did happen.” you responded softly. he observes the way your eyes dodge his and lower at his feet. something was definitely clouding your mind.
he sighs. “wanna come with me somewhere? you can tell me when we get there, if you want.”
“where we going?” you ask, as you get yourself comfortable behind him, before circling your arms around him.
he kicks the kickstand off, turning his head with his helmet on. “you’ll see.” revving the throttle as you both head to your destination.
-
“a park,” you giggled. “are you healing your inner child?”
he smirks at you, helping you with your helmet. since your first date, every time you are on his bike he becomes so attentive towards you.
“no, but i thought we could go on the swings and if you’re comfortable enough you can tell me who or what made you sad.”
your eyes dance over to the vacant playground behind him and back up to his eyes that are studying yours.
“you gonna beat up somebody for me?” you joke, but his face remains the same but with amusement behind his orbs.
“yah,” you nudge his side with your finger making him break his tough side, finally breaking out into a smile. the mole under his bottom lip reveals itself and you have to fight yourself to not reach on your tippy toes and kiss the beauty mark.
he gently places a hand on your waist, pulling you along with him. “come on, i’ll push you.” he tells you, leading you to the two swings.
you sit on a swing, holding onto the rusty chains as jungkook gets behind you. the mulch underneath you both crunching from his chunky boots.
“don’t push me too hard.” you tell him, a bit scared.
he lets out a laugh, “i won’t, promise.”
jungkook and you fall into a comfortable silence as he pushes you, careful not to push you too high.
“i failed my test.” you confess, you watch your still feet pass by the scenery blur beneath you.
“and i’m mad at myself because i studied so hard for it yet i managed to fail. god, and i don’t even want to see how much it dropped my grade, i literally almost had a panic attack in the library, but i left, and i wanted to contact you but remembered you were with your classmates so i had plans to cry into my pillow and fall into a pit of self-deprecation—“
jungkook grabs hold onto the swings chains to still you. “woah, woah princess, shhh.” he comes around to crouch down in front of you.
jungkook has never comforted someone, never been in a situation where a person in front of him showed their weakness. but you’re different. the way your voice cracked before he cut you off broke something inside him. it was an act of instinct how he’s crouching in front of you, his hands wrapped around the rusty chains next to your hips. he doesn’t know the first thing on how to console someone but for you he’ll learn today.
“do you want my advice or do you want to be held?” he asks you, his eyes raking over your facial features.
you purse your lips, curling your hands into your thighs before shyly answering, “can you hug me?”
he softly chuckles before straightening his legs, his figure towering over you before he envelopes you in a hug. cradling your head close to his chest.
once you were engulfed in the boy who slowly yet managed to warm up to your heart, you let out small cries. your fingers gripping the denim fabric of his jean jacket.
“you can cry princess, i won’t ever judge you.” he mumbles, his large hand brushing your head.
you don’t want to scare him but those words make you cry harder. like you’ve always wanted to hear those words.
-
you gasp, the palm of your hand is covering your mouth as you turn to jungkook. “let’s play rock, paper, scissors.” you suggest, grinning at him.
you cocks an eyebrow, “for?”
“if i win, i get to take your spot and you have to sit behind me. but if you lose…hm..i don’t know.” you laugh.
“i really like you princess, but i won’t let you ride us to our death.”
did your brain even process his words?
you smack him on the shoulder, he doesn’t even flinch. “no, just to sit. please,” you beg, putting your hands together and poking out your bottom lip and batting your eyelashes.
jungkook observes you with a smirk. do you even know that if you weren’t begging he would have said yes to you. because you affect him in that way.
in a way he’ll do anything for you.
he scoffs, letting out sigh and bringing out his hands out of his pockets. “okay.”
-
“rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”
you: paper
jungkook: scissors
“two out of three!” you exclaim.
he laughs but accepts it.
“rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”
you: rock
jungkook: scissors
“rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”
you: scissors
jungkook: paper
“i won, you lose!” you bring your index and middle finger to cut his imaginary paper that’s his hand before jumping up and down.
he shakes his head. “you win,” he states, taking a step closer and leaning in.
“hop on, loser.” you jog over to his parked bike, throwing your leg over the seat to sit. you lean forward to grab the hand clutches with a big smile on your face.
“vroom, vroom,” you mimic the sound of the bike coming to life in an adorable way that has jungkook turning his head so you don’t see the goofy smile on his face. the way your figure looks tiny on the seat of his usual spot compared to him. your feet can barely even touch the ground.
he reaches in the front of his pant pocket. “let me take a photo of you.” he spoke, you nod giving him permission.
he quickly snaps a few photos of you before he finally makes his way over to you. leaving a mental note to send them to you and to look over them when he gets home. with one hand placed over your hip he manages to sit behind you. his legs are placed a bit uncomfortable but he doesn’t complain, instead he grabs your waist and squeezes it.
you let out a breathy laugh, “we look so silly right now. my feet can’t even touch the ground.” you wiggle your feet in front of you.
“what if i got a bike?” you ask, dipping your toes in the water. you would never get a bike, but you want to see his reaction.
he shakes his head, the wavy strands framing his face swaying left and right. “definitely not. bikes are dangerous, plus princesses can’t ride bikes.” he tries to reason with you.
you pout your lips, “princess peach does.” you mutter.
he scoffs, “babe, this isn’t mario kart silly. and, i enjoy having you as my backpack.”
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tojisun · 4 months
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Okay, but what was that? Did he accidentally say another woman's name out of habit, or was he thinking about someone else? In my opinion, it's serious when you think about someone else during sex – it’s over. You're just a replacement, nothing more. It's a pity for the reader; I was hoping he would feel something for her at least😩☹️
out of habit! which, with dbf!simon's track record, that must mean he was with erin so much that he's used to calling her name. and thats the kicker - it's her name that he used. not petnames or some shit
but also, since we're all collectively trying to develop this sequence, may i go crazier? we can all collectively ignore this >p<
but um thinking about making dbf!simon love erin like fr. and that he stayed with her the longest because erin reminded him of reader's good parts without the, yk, being his best friend's daughter part. thinking about erin wearing the same perfume as you do. or having the same small hands- sometimes simon imagines it were your hands he was holding. or having the same interests as you do; being passionate about the same things as you are. erin calls his name the way simon remembers you do- all coy and playful and enamoured.
and simon, well, he got drunk off of it. got drunk at the realization that there was someone else who can give him the same high that you give him. that there was someone out there who can yank him out of this haphazard relationship he has with you. that he can be with "you" without consequences.
so erin became his world.
then, it wasn't enough. erin didn't have the same laugh as you do, didn't have the same humour. erin was so patient with him when simon was so used to having tussles with you- push and pulls that drove him crazy; push and pulls that he loved because you're the fiery object of his desires.
erin was the balance he didn't want. so he leaves, because simon's really good at that- leaving.
so. yk. i've been uhhh ruminating over that for a while mhmm mhmm like idk. make simon like reader back but be so emotionally constipated that his love is translated into something wrong?
thank u for being my soundboard ahhhh!!! sorry i word vomited again :">
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lunitawrites · 5 months
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Both Sides of the Moon - part one
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pairing: biker!joel miller x fem!reader rating: explicit word count: 2.8k summary: After a troubled childhood you move back to your hometown. You are trying to avoid facing the dark past of your family, but you realize it will be harder than you thought when a mysterious stranger appears in town trying to take revenge. TWs: no-outbreak AU, age gap (reader mid-twenties, Joel is late forties), loss of parents, reference to sex work, reference to foster homes, guns, knife, alcohol consumption, cigarettes, Joel being violent towards reader, petnames, reader has hair long enough that it can be grabbed, otherwise no physical description, no use of y/n a/n: hey! so this is my first attempt at writing, I really hope some of you out there will like it. I am eternally grateful to @papipascalispunk who reviewed and edited my work. Thanks a million to @toxicanonymity and @hier--soir for their suggestions! Shoutout to the other Joel Millers on bikes: a minute from home by @agentmarcuspike, jailbird by @toxicanonymity and little mouse by @katiexpunk & @josephquinnswhore masterlist
You are fidgeting with your nametag in front of the mirror, trying to apply it to your uniform, but you must have bent the needle when you removed it last time because it won't stay up now.
“Don’t worry about it darlin’,” you hear Arlene shout from the kitchen, “It's a small town, everyone knows you by now.”
“I suppose they do,” you mumble and drop the pin to the dresser. She's always been nice to you, almost mothering you, since you started working together in the diner. You take one last look in the mirror, smoothing out your uniform and walking through the kitchen to start your 7 PM shift.
It's a slow start. The townsfolk don't start coming until the sun paints the sky purple and orange, until the dust strats to settle and the cicadas’ song fills up the night. Your shift begins at the bar; whiskey, beer, salted peanuts, a smile or two for better tips. The bar fills up with a subtle buzz, stench of alcohol and anticipation.
Later on in the evening, Sam asks you to wait tables instead. You usually prefer staying behind the bar, but it's Friday night, the dining area will get busy soon. Arlene will need the extra pair of hands taking the orders anyway, so you pick up your notepad and pen and head out to the floor. 
You are always cautious out here, you have to be. The men are not violent, but they always try to take what they think they deserve. A brush of a knuckle on your thighs, eyes lingering on the swell of your breasts, an inappropriate comment disguised as a compliment, fingertips on the curve of your hips as they pass by. Sam, your boss, always makes sure that it’s not more, keeping an eye on you at all times from behind the bar. Sam is one of the few people who knows about your past, who knows that there were times when you were giving a lot more than a smile for some crinkled up bills, who knows that just a few months ago, your uniform was nothing more than a pair of thigh highs and your underwear.
You were six when your dad died, and you moved away with your mom right after. You stayed with her for another few months until they diagnosed her. She passed away before the next Christmas. By January, you were in your first foster home. After you got out from your last foster home with nothing more than a few pairs of clothes and the fifty dollar bill that you stole from your foster dad's wallet, you really didn’t see another option for survival. 
It started at a gentlemen's club called Red Rose, just outside of Austin, all neon lights and kitsch, velvet and satin from a decade before. They gave you a room in the motel next to it, but only if you worked the after hours shift, so you agreed. You didn't know what after hours meant at the time, but you would have agreed to almost anything if it meant that you would spend the night in a bed and not somewhere outside.
The after hours, you learned quickly, meant selling your body to anyone who took interest in it during the opening hours of the club. So while you did spend your night in a bed, it was with a truck driver named Dylan, who paid you hundred dollars for an hour of you being a good girl, as he described. Forty of those dollars covered the motel bill and twenty went to the club manager for organizing the deal.
You spent six years working at Red Rose, eventually saving up enough money so you didn't have to stay at the motel. You rented a flat with black mold and sticky linoleum floors, sharing it with three of the other girls from the club. You were driving an old Chevy that one of the girls passed onto you after she moved up north. Six years of Dylans and Bobs and Johns and Joses and Miguels. Six years of sweat and spit and bruises and slaps and come, until you couldn't anymore. 
You moved back to your hometown, although it was never really your home, and while you knew little about the circumstances of your father’s death, you were still afraid to come back, terrified to face the past. But as it turned out, you never had to, as if there was some silent agreement amongst the town that they never spoke of your family. No one gossipped, or if they did, they did so silently that it never reached your ears. They welcomed you into town as if you were a stranger. 
You moved into your old family home at the edge of town. White paint chipped from wooden boards, almost two decades of dust and sorrow covering every inch. You slowly made it your own home, settling into the master bedroom that was once your parents’, but leaving every other room untouched. You have not dared to open the door of your old bedroom yet. 
You still drove the old Chevy when you started working at Sam’s six nights a week, the only diner in town, serving the majority of the people who lived there.
It's Friday, which means a good crowd and better tips. Friday means an extra drink for everyone to celebrate yet another week survived in this dusty town in south Texas, just above the border. So you move among the tables with a smile so wide that your face starts to hurt.
It's almost eleven now and most of the tables are occupied; workers for their well-deserved after work drink, youngsters pregaming before driving up to Austin for a night out, some couples leaning over their drinks to be closer to one another, families finishing up their meals, greasy hands stopping you to order another basket of fries. The buzz is loud now, the air in the diner thick and heavy with alcohol and laughter. A usual Friday at Sam’s, until it isn’t.
The door squeaks open, heavy footsteps on the floor, broad shoulders in the doorframe. You really shouldn't be able to hear it over the sound of Friday in the diner, but you do. You lock eyes with deep amber, a pair of sad eyes, searching for a place to sit. Strong arms hidden under a black leather jacket, dark wash jeans, disheveled brown curls, almost halo-like, lit by the street lights behind him. The diner seems to catch up with you, surprised faces turning to the direction of the door, sentences left unfinished, whispers let out, cheeks turned red in surprise, Adam’s apples bobbing up and down. Is it? It can’t be. The sounds of Friday fun turn into whispers, and whispers turn to silence. Fear creeps up in your spine, something primal, something unexplainable.
He walks up to an empty table, heavy boots on sticky floor are the only sound now. The squeal of a chair, denim rubbing against the fake leather of the booth, fingers tapping on the tabletop, an impatient sigh. You move your feet from where they were rooted to the ground just a minute ago. Sweaty hands flipping paper on the notepad. You clear your throat before closing up the space between you and his table.
“What can I get you?”, your voice comes out raspy, almost scared. He looks up at you, a faint smile on his face, eyes not quite meeting yours. Instead, he looks at your lips, gaze burning on your skin, you press your lips together, as if you could hide them entirely. Your eyes flick over to the bar, searching for another pair of brown eyes, searching for comfort. But comfort is not what you find, Sam looks back at you with a wild gaze, almost panic in his eyes.
“Whiskey, neat,” the stranger says, now looking at his hands on the table.
“Coming right up!”, you answer with fake cheerfulness in your voice. Legs heavy as you move, “A whiskey, neat,” you say when you reach the bar, waiting for Sam to prepare the drink. You understand that the questions are not for now, the questions are for later. The people slowly turn their attention back to the drinks in front of them, conversations starting again. But still, the air stays as if it was frozen the minute the stranger came in, Friday never has been so quiet at Sam’s diner..
“There you go”, you say as you place the glass in front of him, voice heavy with the accent you thought you never had.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, not looking up at you this time.
Time feels slow, dragging on every minute, every second of the night. You cannot take being inside anymore. You feel like you are going to suffocate.
“I am going on my break,” you say quickly and don’t wait for anyone to acknowledge, just disappear through the kitchen. 
The muggy evening air hugs your skin as you open the back door of the diner. Being outside is just as suffocating as being inside, but at least it's quieter. You take a cigarette out from the crumpled package in your apron, place it between your lips but don't light it just yet. You should quit. You exhale sharply and put the cigarette back. Istead, you lean your head back to the wall, looking up at the moon. She's in her full glory tonight, casting pale light to the dark forest in front of you.
You are not sure what happened inside. This man who you are sure you have never seen in your life just woke up something deep inside you. You feel like you are drawn to him by a strange force, a force that is so foreign to you. There was a certain kind of sadness in his eyes that you only see when you look into the reflection of your own eyes. Grief. Lost. Denial. Something that balances between madness and sanity. 
You hear the front door open with a squeaking sound. Footsteps, drunk laughter and heavy drawls take over the silence of your break. You are about to go inside when you hear an intoxicated voice call out:
“Where do you think you’re goin´?” the drunk man shouts. “You think you can just walk in here and have a drink like the rest of us? Like you fuckin’ belong here.” he spits. The rest of the men stop talking. Now he is the only voice. “Let me tell you. You don´t. You should not come around anymore. You are not welcome here and you should know that.”
“So what happens if I do  come around?” the stranger's voice is laced with coldness. You slowly start walking to the front. You need to see him again. You need to understand what's happening. You feel yourself shaking, despite the warm humidity of the night. 'You should just stay out of it,' the voice in your head says, but you keep walking.
You peek around the corner of the diner. There he is with six men from the town. They all seem fairly drunk. They seem like they are looking for trouble.
“Well, if you are so fuckin´ sure you gonna come around,” he drawls “we might as well just give you a taste of what we are plannin´ to do with you. Right, boys?” he laughs and the men laugh with him, like a pack of coyotes. They all sound way too drunk to do any real harm, but there are six of them against him.
“Try me” the stranger grits through his teeth. He doesn't seem to be afraid, he seems like he would not care if he lives or dies. He seems like someone who gave up a long time ago.
“That ’s enough!” You shout and start walking up to the crowd. ”Go home or I will call Sam out and we will see who won’t be allowed to come around here anymore”. The loudest one flashes you a drunk grin and says: “That is just fuckin’ hilarious. You wanna protect him?” he asks.
“I am not protecting anyone, it’s my job to keep this place running. So I am doing just exactly that.” you say putting your hands on your waist. “Now, gentlemen, I would appreciate, if you all went home and cared about your wives and kids just as much as you care about your liquor. I reckon you had enough fun for tonight. Go! All of you!” you order them.
You are surprised to see that they do. It might be the mention of their wives and the reminder of how they would react if they saw them coming home drunk and all beaten up. The loudest one turns back for a second and addresses you. “You don’t know what you are doing.”
“I guess not.” you whisper and turn your head to the stranger.
“You didn't need to, darlin’. I can defend myself,” he says, drawl thick as the night above you. 
“Mhm, you seem like the type who can,” you say with a half smile. He laughs at that, but there is no humor in it. It should not be possible for a laugh to sound that sad.
“You new around here?”, he takes a step forward, cornering you to the wall. His eyes are searching for the name tag on your uniform. As he cannot find anything his eyes flick back to your face again. His gaze lights something up in you, deep inside your stomach. Frozen flames licking your insides. You are terrified of it, you are terrified of him.
“You can say that, moved back recently. And you? It seems like everyone knows you around here.” you say, heart pounding in your throat. 
“Wasn't hard to sense that, was it?”, you can feel his breath on your skin. Whiskey, burning on your cheeks.
“No,” you say, casting down your eyes. Somehow his proximity makes you restless. His presence makes the blood rush faster in your body. Your reaction is almost instinctual, you want to rip his flash and sink your teeth into him. To be closer or to get away. You are not sure.
He must sense it, a sly smile across his lips. He lifts his hand, hovers his knuckles over your cheeks tentatively. You are red burning fire. He brushes his knuckles over your left cheek, your chin, the curve of your neck. He rests his palm on your shoulder at last.
“You are shaking,” he murmurs. He takes his hand away. It's almost like you couldn't breathe while he touched you. Lungs filling up with air again. You lock eyes with him. “So what's your..,” he starts but cannot finish, Arlene opens the back door and calls your name. 
“Everything okay here?”, she asks.
His eyes darken. Amber turns black. “It's you,” he says, “I should have fuckin’ known.” One hand grabbing your hair, the other turning you around. Rough denim scratching the back of your thighs as he pushes you up to the wall. Head knocking on wood, you feel dizzy. You hear Arlene’s muffled scream, the door opening again. Cold steel pressed into your throat, you taste your death. “I couldn't have planned this better, could I?”, he whispers into your ear.
“Who the fuck are you? What do you want from me?”, you spit, fear blinding you as you try to grab a hold of him behind you.
“You don't know who I am? That's good. That´s just fuckin’ good”, he laughs, blood freezing in your veins from the sound of it.
You hear footsteps, Arlene’s breathy cry in the background. Boots then. Heavier than she could be. 
“Joel Miller,” Sam says with venom in his voice, “Leave her the fuck alone!”
His gun is pointing to Joel’s temple. Sam takes a step closer, “Get out of here. Right fuckin’ now.” Joel slowly releases the handful of hair he still has in his fist. As he does, a bitter smile spreads on his face.
“Another time then,” he murmurs, low enough that only you can hear. He steps back, walks slowly to the parking lot where he swings his leg over a 1990 Harley-Davidson, the exact same model that is in your father's garage. 
You look at Sam, eyes blurred with tears and confusion.You are certain of one thing, and one thing only. Joel Miller wants to kill you.
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are much appreciated. Please let me know if you'd like to be on the tag list for the next parts!
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Your Biker in Worn Leather
Pairing: EZ Reyes x female!reader
Category: Angst/Comfort
Word count: 353
Summary: You call EZ to pick you up and his temper goes through the roof at the state you’re in.
Warnings: Mentions of cuts, scratches, and bruises
Part 2
Masterlist
Taglist
Gif is not mine. Credit to owner.
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“Can you please come and get me?” Those words played on loop in EZ’s head, he couldn’t get the sound of your scared voice out of his head. You didn’t tell him what happened or if you were hurt, only where to pick you up from.
Ezekiel was quick to jump on his bike and speed to your location. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest, mind racing a mile a second thinking about all the possible scenarios you could be in. By the time EZ finally found you on the side of the street, it was pouring rain and you had no rain coat or umbrella to shield you. As EZ took off his helmet and goggles, he noticed you were shaking and that’s when you immediately raced towards him, throwing your arms around his neck and clinging to him for dear life, not giving him the chance to get off his bike. EZ’s arms instinctively enveloped you in a tight embrace, his hand gently rubbing your back. Neither one of you cared that you were getting drenched and could possibly end up with a cold tomorrow. You needed him, his safety, his protection, and you needed him as close as possible. EZ allowed the hug to last a few more moments. “Let’s get you dry, okay?” He spoke softly, placing a kiss to the top of your head.
You nodded against his shoulder before pulling yourself out of his arms. As you did so, EZ caught sight of the state you were in, a busted lip, bruises decorating your arms, and a red cheek. EZ’s blood boiled more and more as he saw each bruise, scratch, and cut littering your body. “Who did this to you?” He blurted out, causing you to jump at his stern tone and clenched jaw. The movement didn’t go unnoticed. “I’m sorry, mi amor. I didn’t mean to scare you. Do you know who did this to you?” He apologized before asking again, this time in a calmer tone.
You knew exactly who did this, and you knew EZ would revel in setting the score.
General Taglist: @kmc1989
EZ Reyes Taglist: @zaenight
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romancemedia · 2 months
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Cartoon Romances + Caressing Lover's Cheek
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bettyfrommars · 4 months
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I'm on Fire
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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
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nickfowlerrr · 2 years
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pretty when you cry
series masterlist
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pairing: dark!biker!bucky x curvy!reader (dark!soulmate au)
Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. This is a DARK series!!! Please proceed with abundant caution! Read ALL warnings. 18+ ONLY.
updated: 04/03/24
prologue
chapter one
chapter two
—-*i’d stop here if you’re not interested in the redemption/romance*—-
chapter three
chapter four
chapter five
bucky’s interlude
chapter six
chapter seven
chapter eight
chapter nine
chapter nine - bucky
chapter ten
chapter eleven
chapter twelve (a)
chapter twelve (b)
chapter thirteen
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drabbles/one shots:
steve’s soulmate
just trying to help
drinks 🍹
date night
destiny rules
the thrill of it all
angel in hiding. devil in disguise.
say cheese 🎄
new memories 🎄
gifts 🎄
cookies crumbled 🎄
bad day
regrets
hurt
pretty when you cry (what if)
bet
knight in leather armor
it’s brighter now
his favorite pillow
“innocent” menace bucky
distractions
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buckrecs · 1 year
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2022 Bucky Barnes Fic Rec 1
masterlist | req masterlist
All of them are COMPLETE Series.
✨ - fav fics
Status - Completed
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✨sunrise from @wkemeup
Veteran!Bucky x Librarian!Reader
After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is discharged from active duty and sent back to civilian life. Left with a storm of unchecked guilt, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU)
parent-teacher conference by @coffeecatsandcandles
Single Dad!Bucky x Teacher!Reader
James Barnes, a widowed single dad, had forgotten what love felt like and let it crush him, taking his daughter, Rebecca, with him. He was cold, rude, and arrogant, being one of the few teachers at Westview High School the students seemed to absolutely despise. But when you show up, a hopeful math teacher who’d previously taught Rebecca’s kindergarten class, and are adored by your students and colleagues- James’s attitude starts to change.
whatever it takes by @wienerbarnes
Bucky x Doctor!Reader Doctor AU
The Avengers recruit you, a medical genius of sorts, to help solve the case of an agent who is dying from an unknown illness. You seem to catch Bucky Barnes’ attention.
seven thirty by @nacho-bucky
Single Dad!Bucky x Reader
You were planning on a productive — if lonely — weekend, but the little girl across the hall has different ideas about how you and Bucky Barnes should be spending your time.
call me when you want by @bonky-n-steeb
Bucky x Reader
When you call a sex hotline with a need to be dominated you don’t expect to meet (or hear) someone as wonderful as James. but your life becomes a complicated mess as you already love your coworker, Bucky Barnes. however, you are unaware that they are actually the same person.
steel blue by @youlightmeupfinn
Professor!Bucky Barnes x Reader
When you experience the most intense night of the summer alongside Bucky, who you nickname Steel Blue, you weren't expecting to fall pregnant. When a positive pregnancy test meets your eyes a few days before school starts, you know it belongs to the man who you'd never see again. Until you walk into your Romanian Linguistics class and he's your professor.
✨heart and soul by @all1e23
Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader
Alphas only brought trouble. The only thing they are good for is bringing their Omega’s pain and forced submission. They were dangerous, reckless and cruel. There wasn’t an ounce of kindness in any of them.  She didn’t need an Alpha, and she certainly didn’t believe in that True Mates fairytale. That was just some fabricated fable Alphas made up to trick innocent doe-eyed Omegas. She wasn’t going to fall for that.  Not again.No Alpha would ever get her to believe that love truly exists. And then, James Buchanan Barnes walked into her life.
✨astrophile by @all1e23
Firefighter!Bucky x Reader Single Dad AU
Orion Rebecca Barnes's favorite thing in the whole world (besides her daddy of course) is spending hours after school in the bookstore by her house and the owner GIVES her any book she wants; she’s the coolest girl Orion has ever met.
✨swallow by @all1e23
Biker!Bucky x Reader
Since he was fifteen years old, Bucky Barnes has only been sure of two things; the club should be the most essential thing in his life, and he’d burn it all down for you.  
between the star by @all1e23
Bucky x Reader Past Steve x Reader Military AU
Struggling with the death of your husband, you find comfort in someone unexpected
the slip up by @justkending
Bucky x Single Mom!Reader
After a last hurrah to graduating college with a future to be a family practitioner, a little slip up happens… Seven years down the road, just when things just now seem to be going smoothly, Y/N approaches that slip up from all those years ago. She’s not looking for anything right now. She is just where she wants to be in life. It seems the universe has a different idea though. One called James Barnes.
✨the love club by @slyyywriting
Bucky x Mob!Reader
Bucky gets initiated into the mob life by accident. He wants out but only the owner can revoke his club membership.
the number one rule by @justkending
Bucky x Rogers!Reader
Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor's degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left. But don’t worry, the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other's buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized?
✨delicate edges by @wkemeup
Biker!Bucky x Florist!Reader
Your family’s beloved flower shop was not the only thing you inherited when your parents passed. Trapped under a mountain of debt to the Hydra club, you bear the cost of your father’s desperate bargain. It’s only in moments when the charming Bucky Barnes walks into your shop that you can forget the cruelty of the biker clubs of this town. But a war is brewing. The border is crumbling. You're trapped in the middle. And Bucky will stop at nothing to keep you safe.
not me by @simsadventures
CEO!Bucky x Wife!Reader
Billionaire/entrepreneur Bucky is married to seemingly timid and meek wife, the reader. While he hates her with all he has, she tried to act her part as the wife of the big CEO. And while their relationship falls apart more and more, they both realised there might be more to the story than they previously believed. Will they be able to repair the damage that’s been done, or will they find happiness in somebody else’s arms?
✨the perfect fit by @mypoisonedvine
Bucky x Tailor!Reader
bucky needs a new suit (or two) and gets a recommendation from his best frenemy, tony stark.  of course it would turn out that you were his tailor, and further, that bucky would be an awkward stumbling mess as soon as he’s anywhere near you.
seeing red by @mypoisonedvine
Bodyguard!Bucky x Celebrity!Reader
bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.
the new recruit by @angstysebfan
Bucky x Reader
You and Bucky have a best friends with benefits relationship, since he is not the “relationship” type. Things go crazy when the new recruit shows up.
✨one last job by @sunriserose1023
Bodyguard!Bucky x Celebrity!Reader
Bucky Barnes is retired. He did a stint in the Army, did a stint as a Secret Service agent, even dabbled in the private sector, but that’s over. Now, he just wants to rest in the solitude he’s found in a cabin in the Adirondacks, with only his memories to get him through the sleepless nights.
✨pride and privacy by @adrinktostopyourthirst
Roommate!Bucky x Reader
Bucky works on himself as he gets used to a roommate. Turns out, she has a much better room than him and he crossed the line.
the right for you by @real-jane
Bucky x Reader Past Steve x Reader
steve leaves you to pursue a life with peggy. bucky is there to pick up the pieces, and build a life you never could've imagined in order to dream of it.
✨for the love of the game by @pellucid-constellations
College Athlete!Bucky x Reader
Bucky Barnes was a menace. NYU’s top baseball player, he was used to girls falling at his feet and could smooth talk his way out of just about anything. You hated him. He couldn’t figure out why. So when the novelty of weekend parties and quick hookups finally wore off—and his feelings for you began to grow—he made it his mission to fix it.
✨undisclosed by @pellucid-constellations
Lumberjack!Bucky x Reader
Desperate to outrun a secret that could cost you your life, you seek refuge in a small mountain town. Its deep forests and small cabins make it the perfect place to hide, but the travel website hadn’t mentioned anything about the quiet, burly lumberjack that wouldn’t leave your thoughts. No one had warned Bucky about you either.
fragments by @subwaysurf45
Bucky x Reader
You always had a soft spot for innocent people who were viewed as monsters, must have been something in your blood. Nothing changed when you were assigned as the new handler for the Winter Soldier, he had just killed his previous one and you happened to be there at the right time to fill in. But what happens when you meet him years later?
wrong choice right places by @mvtthewmurdvck
Mob!Bodyguard!Bucky x Reader
never wanting to work for him or protect his fiancé, falling for you was the last thing he should do—especially when his boss was zemo, who now ran most of the city.
✨mess is mine by @scrumptious-delusion
Boxer!Bucky x Reader
as a date night surprise, your boyfriend takes you to a boxing match. little does he know, one of the competitors is responsible for breaking your heart five years ago and an accidental encounter is about to send your whole world spinning.
no day but today by @buckysfaveplum
Bucky x Reader
He’s more than content to lock himself away from everyone in the cold emptiness of his apartment. However, the girl in the apartment above him seems to have other plans. The girl who paints on the fire escape and climbs down through his window. The girl who he can’t seem to get enough of.
✨southpaw by @gogolucky13
Boxer!Bucky x Reader
Tied up in the criminal world your godfather has built, you have no reason to leave, until you find one in the man they call Southpaw.
✨ghost of you by @gogolucky13
Bucky x Reader
Bucky has worked hard to come to terms with his past and enjoy the new life he’s been given. But his mind is still plagued by nightmares of what he’s done and by the face of an unknown woman. What happens when the team is tasked with recovering another Winter Solider, causing Bucky’s past and present to collide in the form of the woman from his dreams?
nostalgia for the new by @real-jane
Bucky x Agent!Reader
bucky meets you because of your exquisite taste in music, and he finds in you a solace he didn't realize was possible. you create for bucky something he's never found before: nostalgia for a time that hasn't happened yet, and hope for a future where he might be loved.
✨to have & to hold by @slyyywriting
Single Dad!Bucky x Mob!Reader
Bucky is trying his best to provide and care for his daughter who just entered first grade. Everything was alright until she asks why everyone else seems to have a mom except for her. You’re just a plain mob boss who wants to turn a new leaf. Challenges arise when the world refuses to let you take a softer, non-violent route. A little girl helps you navigate a compromise.(Single Dad!Bucky)
safe with me by @bitsandbobsandstuff
Bodyguard!Bucky x Reader
When an unknown threat enters your life, protection is offered at the highest level. As Bucky Barnes comes into your life, the game changes, and you realise falling for the man tasked with keeping you safe is the last thing you expected.  
teacher’s favorite by @suitk0via
Single Dad!Bucky x Teacher!Reader
You are first grade teacher and Bucky is a single dad who wants to be involved with everything his little girl - Elaine - does. He’s the dad all the parent’s and faculty drool over. You quickly become Elaine's favorite teacher and Bucky's just gotta meet you.
✨stuck wit u by @slyyywriting
Bucky x Avenger!Reader
You and Bucky don’t get along. Your fights have become too destructive so Tony and Steve decide that enough is enough.
touch of ink by @deamstellarus
Tattoo Artist!Bucky x Reader
After a breakup with your ex, you decided to move to the small town where your long-time friend Sam lives, hoping for a change of pace and starting a new chapter in your life. You were prepared for a slower paced lifestyle, quaint diners, and a change of scenery. However, you didn't expect to be swept off your feet by two stunning pairs of blue-grey eyes.  
✨paper walls by @writingcroissant
Neighbor!Bucky x Reader
Your apartment happens to be right next to Bucky's, heads only separated by a paper-thin wall, leading to you witnessing every second of his nightmares. Although, bonding over your late night conversations, you seem to forget that you never even saw him before.    
✨leave this town by @avengerofyourheart
Mechanic!Bucky x Reader
Your dreams of kissing your small town life goodbye are about to come true when an unexpected detour leaves you stranded. Meeting the handsome local mechanic has you rethinking your plans. Perhaps happiness is less about where you’re headed and more about the people you meet along the way.
✨the world of our own by @shreddedparchment
Bucky x Reader Castaway AU
You and a man named Bucky crash land on a deserted island. Can the two of you come together and make it until rescue comes? After you begin to fall for the mysterious Bucky Barnes, will you even want to be rescued?
yours, mine, ours by @coffeecatsandcandles
Single Dad!Bucky x Single Mom!Reader
Bucky Barnes has been raising his girls, Rebecca and Winnie, for the last two years. He'd lost all hope of falling in love again until he met you, a pediatrician with two children of your own- Elliot and Willow. He falls in love and he falls hard, but the challenges of being single parents still weigh on you both at times. Luckily, you'll always have each other.
we’ll meet again by @coffeecatsandcandles
Bucky x Reader
You fell in love with Bucky Barnes in 1940. He was your everything, until he was taken from you. You’ll meet him again, just not in the way either of you expected…
✨run to me by @sgtjbuccky
Mob!Bucky x Reader
In where you’ve always had a habit of ending up in situations you shouldn’t, and when you caught the eye of the man who ran New York, Bucky Barnes, your life changed. They warned you about him, but the one thing they never warned you about was how you’d always want to run to him.
trick question by @nacho-bucky
Bucky x Reader Modern AU
It’s a weekly battle of wills for Bucky and the Reader, as they navigate the stunning pressure that is pub trivia. Can these obdurate opponents find any middle-ground?
the diner by @bolontiku
Bucky x Reader Modern AU
Working at a diner as a waitress, struggling to make bills and take care of the kid your sister left you, one night you meet James.
relax by @kinanabinks
Bucky x Reader
Things with Bucky are easy, and he's the sweetest guy you've been with. But when you throw in a bitter roommate and untold secrets, things get real hard, real fast.
old souls @thedevilwearsvibranium
Bucky x Reader
Your aunt runs an antique shop in the lower parts of Manhattan, and asks you to work in her shop once a week. You happily take the job, but then on your first day you have a strange encounter with an unusual customer - Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier. Things ensue as the two of you end up becoming friends - and maybe even more - as you reminisce about the old things that you love as well as your mysterious pasts.
breaking the rules by @redgillan
Bucky x Reader Modern AU
You hate James Barnes with a burning passion and the feeling is entirely mutual. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, you are tricked into attending his sister’s wedding as his girlfriend. Stuck with a bunch of strangers, you come up with a set of rules that are not going to last long.
time after time by @justsomebucky
Neighbor!Bucky x Reader
AU. When the reader’s parents divorce, her mother moves her to a new  town, right next door to Bucky Barnes. This is their love story.
just a touch by @buckychrist
Bucky x Enhanced!Reader
Your powers? Controlling any feeling a human can have, from emotions to pain, with a simple brush of your fingertips. Your mission? The traumatized soldier with sad stricken eyes and scream filled nightmares.  
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twilghtkoo · 10 months
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ride - jeon jungkook
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summary. the mini adventures of you and jungkook on his motorcycle
pairings. biker!jungkook x reader (f)
genres/au. fluff, smut, angst, suggestive, f2l, established relationship, non-idol
warnings. each part will have its own warnings
notes. a bunch of motorcycle tiktoks are popping up on my fyp and i remembered jk owning clothes from a motorcycle clothing brand and i was thinking . . . and yeah :D another series vivian is starting lmfao but pls pls pls lmk by reblogging or liking if ure excited for this mini series just as i am !!!
10 PART MINI SERIES
[ series masterpost | masterlist | taglist ]
PARTS
▷ ride: first date (1.6k) | fluff
“you nervous?” “yeah.”
▷ ride: rendezvous (?) | fluff, angst, comfort
“where are we going?” “you’ll see.”
▷ ride: storm chasing (?) | fluff, smut
“you don’t think we’re moving too fast?” “i want this if you want this.”
▷ ride: cool with you (?) | fluff, smut, slight angst
loading . . .
ride drabbles
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tojisun · 3 months
Note
https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNG9GsXt/ you can’t tell me this isn’t Johnny in the BikerSimon series! 😍
ABSOLUTELY!!! THAT IS SO HIM SCREAMSSS
i love thinking about biker!johnny being so teasing and adorable and an absolute daredevil :((
……..thinking about johnny showing off because he’s got a crush—a little ‘influencer’ or something who got famous for doing those scrapbooking.
johnny followed your account because the sounds of paper being cut or torn, and tape being pulled out of the dispenser is, somehow, comforting. he didn’t expect you to have followed him back. didn’t expect how pretty the scrapbooker is :((
so thats how he starts: bike tricks full of flare, all because he wants to look cool in front of you.
he devours every like you give him, from his instagram to his tiktok account. for now, this is enough for johnny.
(simon finds out that johnny boy has a crush; he playfully swats at the back of his head because leave it to johnny to find himself crushing on someone who’s probably living a country away.)
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aprilblossomgirl · 8 months
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First Kanaphan as Sand & Khaotung Thanawat as Ray
Only Friends (2023) | Ep.5
Fine. I’ll go with you. Dust and grime and hot weather, and you insist on going on your motorbike just to be cool. That about sums up my world. Dust and grime and scorching sun. It’s not air-conditioning and air-purifier like yours.
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Text
Your Biker in Worn Leather Part 2
Pairing: EZ Reyes x female!reader
Category: Angst
Word count: 396
Summary: You finally tell EZ who’s responsible for your current appearance.
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I have no idea if the Burning Souls are a real MC, it’s just a made up name for this fic. If they are real, this is in no way, shape, or form related to them and for entertainment purposes only.
Part 1
Masterlist
Taglist
Gif is not mine. Credit to the owner
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EZ’s voice rang in your ears. Who did this to you? You knew the man Ezekiel would become once you told him the name. That version of EZ was terrifying to you despite his lividness never being aimed at you but others instead.
“Baby, who was it?” The biker asked once again in a softer tone, concerned filled eyes never leaving your face.
You swallowed hard. “Burning Souls.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look into EZ’s eyes. The fire that resided there was frightening and anyone in their right mind would run for the hills when met with the intense anger that bubbled up in the Mayan.
The Burning Souls were relatively new to the scene, being made up by men discharged from various branches of the armed forces and former police officers. They used all their skills, experience, and resources to their advantage to strike fear into anyone and everyone who crossed their path. What was their motivation? Their goal? Easy. To destroy all MCs in the state of California. To cause chaos, destruction, havoc and if people died in the process, that made it even better.
The Burning Souls had been scoping out the Mayans for a few weeks now. They had watched each Mayan through town and ultimately followed them to the clubhouse’s run down walled gate.
When the Burning Souls first saw you they didn’t think much of you, thinking you were just a club hang around and only there for fun and sex. That opinion of you was proven wrong when they kept seeing you with the Mayans’ Vice President, Ezekiel Reyes. The hugs and kisses exchanged between you and EZ told the story of love. Now the Burning Souls had what they needed — a weakness. A weakness to the VP. It was as close to the top as they were going to get since Obispo Losa showed no interest in love or affection but rather just sex. With no ammo to use on the Mayans’ President, the VP was next in line.
As soon as the MC’s name left your lips, EZ’s jaw tightened, fists clenched, his anger rose and rose with each passing second.
No one harms, much less touches his girl. Most importantly, no one lives to tell the tale.
Ezekiel Reyes was about to start a war ten times worse than the entire world has ever seen.
General Taglist: @kmc1989
EZ Reyes Taglist: @zaenight
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