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#biker au
hogans-heroes · 2 days
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okay but if you have more thoughts on the biker au...i would like to hear them.
I'm still overwhelmed with feels about the fics we've gotten already but yes so many thoughts!
Maybe Gale has been into bikes since he was very young. I feel like since he has a bad home life that bikes would be his escape and his riding gang a substitute family. Would love to include the other MOTA guys as other bikers.
He's tough and a natural leader of course, but is haunted and the others can see that. Even though they try to take care of each other and have each others' backs no one can quite get all the way through to him. I feel like he would be closest to DeMarco and Alex.
His jacket and denim vest with patches is his special and signature item and no one is allowed to touch it. He gets testy about it.
Bucky on the other hand, in my thoughts on this AU, is a little different than in the show. He still wears his heart on his sleeve but I'd want to adopt more of what we see in the gif of him for this AU post. Much more vulnerable and able to express himself, but still feeling deeply and untrusting.
I have no preference on whose baby it is, maybe it's his half sibling from when his dad remarried and his parents are involved in drinking or just bad folks (In case anyone didn't notice, in that gif he's got a nasty bruise around his eye, HC his dad or his mom's boyfriend did that, it's what made him take the kid). Or maybe it's his own kid or niece, either way he took the kid and ran due to the situation, literally had nowhere to go.
Maybe he and Gale knew each other when they were kids, or they're neighbors now, or maybe he just heard of the gang and knew he needed protection. In any rate he shows up wherever the gang's hangout is and explains, shaking because he'd just been beaten and he knows they'll be after him and he has no options and doesn't know if the baby is hurt in any way.
It's an instant switch flipped for Gale. One look at Bucky and the kid and he'd do anything for them. All out war to protect them if necessary. He's so gentle and caring with them but the others that know him well aren't surprised.
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blackwhitefeatherart · 3 months
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𓆩🖤𓆪 satosugu biker au 𓆩🖤𓆪🏍
I think they'd be insufferable (lovingly)
..also this is soo self-indulgent if you know me irl you know I love this kind of fashion 🫶
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yakowo · 6 months
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(Biker AU) don't think they heard him at all
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goosetooths · 2 months
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mwah 💋
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dumbificat · 4 months
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a little bit older, a black leather jacket…
a wriothesley biker! au oneshot. gn reader, no tws that i can see.
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The little bell chimes as you enter the café debord, alerting others of your entrance. you head towards the counter but soon find you might be waiting a while. no problem, you can be in line for a bit. your favourite drink awaits you.
some minutes pass, and the line slowly gets served. you’re now waiting behind just one guy! one really tall guy. you hadn’t realised just how intimidating he seemed from the back. tall, black leather jacket, ripped jeans and boots, messing hair… yet he was ordering lemon tea? that’s surprising.
what was more surprising was the fact that he didn’t have enough money to pay. the worker looked a bit hesitant to say it, but it was true. you peeked your head around the wall of a man in front of you and quietly offered to pay. it was then then you finally managed to catch a glimpse of this guy’s face and. your heart skipped a beat. he was so handsome? [how can someone be this handsome] you find yourself thinking.
“are ya sure? ya don’t mind payin’?” he asked, in a perfectly baritone voice. the smoothness of his words stunned you for a moment, but you soon replied that,
“yes! it’s fine, no problem at all.” he then flashed you a grin that made your heat skip more than a few beats. the worker bought you out of your mini trance by shyly asking for the money, of which you provided. you then politely ordered your regular drink, and decided to treat yourself to a sweet snack as a reward for your good deed.
when you go to fetch your order, you notice the same guy from earlier sitting at a nearby table. he mouths the words “thank you” while holding his drink up, so you nod your head in acknowledgement and offer a small smile. he, in turn, gives you the same heart-stopping grin from back in the line. trying not to get distracted (again), you find a table with your drink and treat in hand.
you take a seat in a quiet part of the café, and start having some quality time with yourself. catching up on social media, reading a few chapters of a book, having some time to think. this day is yours, do with it what you will. despite being occupied, your mind couldn’t help but wander back to that guy. he was so handsome, you couldn’t help it! you look back to the table he was sat at and he was still there. what shocked you though, was that he was already looking at you. you shared surprised looks before smiling at each other once again.
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it didn’t take long for you to finish your drink and treat after that, his smile playing on a loop in your mind. you noticed this guy was getting ready to leave just as you were. not wanting to be stunned again, you briskly left the café. you’re about to turn onto another street before you hear someone calling for you:
“hey, wait! you forgot this!” it was hard not to recognise his voice despite only having heard it once. there he was, the mystery guy on a motorcycle slowing down right next to you. he handed you your jacket! in your rush to leave, you must’ve forgotten to pick it up. well that’s embarrassing…
before you could thank him, he sped off, leaving you once again stunned. you sigh, and put the jacket on, instinctively reaching into the pockets. it was there that you found a small note:
xxxx-xxx-xxx
call me! - Wriothesley
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thank you so much for reading. comments and reblogs (with tags) are much appreciated (╹◡╹)♡
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beansprean · 2 years
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More bikie au nonsense ❤️
Jim was raised by a pit stop nun to be gods greatest mechanic and avenge the street racing crash that killed their family. Stede keeps track of everyone’s birthdays on a bike sticker. The secret library in his engine has somehow not caught on fire.
Image description under cut!
[ID: Drawing dump of an our flag means death modern bikie au.
1. Ed, with full beard and loose hair in a spiked biker jacket with a kraken patch on the shoulder, crouches next to Stede’s motorcycle, staring with fascination into a secret compartment he just opened. His nails are painted black. Stede, wearing a simple blue button down and gray trousers, is standing behind him with a smile and leaning over to speak. He says, “I had to downsize the engine to make room, but I think it was the right move.” Dazzled by his brilliance, Ed responds, “fucking mental…” Stede’s bike has the shape of a Harley but is clearly custom and painted bright teal. The metal nameplate on the fuel tank dubs it “The Revenge” and the rest is covered in various stickers including one of Mary’s lighthouse, a peace sign, a list of the crew’s birthdays, a smiley face, a pink one that says “I brake 4 birds” and a green one that says “excuse my kiwi attitude.” There is also a pride sticker and a small mountain sticker on the steering fork and a kiwi (the bird) sticker on the right handlebar. Mounted on the headlight is a small wooden unicorn. We can see some stickers on the other side from where Ed has lifted the secret compartment, including a pink heart and a large sticker of a stack of books with a second “ssh!” Speech bubble sticker to the side of it. Each handle has dangling yellow tassels.
2. Ed, mirrored sunglasses pushed to the top of his head, grins excitedly at Karl (a black breasted buzzard) standing on top of Button’s helmeted head. Buttons, in his usual impassive straight-backed manner, tells him, “Karl sends his warm regards.” He is wearing a long-sleeved beige shirt, jeans, gray fingerless gloves, and a denim vest covered in actual buttons of various sizes and colors. His plain gray helmet (no visor) is covered in scratches from Karl’s claws.
3. Jim crouching and looking to the side suspiciously. They are wearing ripped jeans, brown boots, fingerless brown leather gloves, a gold cross necklace, and a grease-stained once-white shirt under a faded blue mechanic’s button-up that says “Jim” on the breast. In the breast pocket is a grease-stained rag, and they are holding a socket wrench like a knife.
4. Ed, wearing Stede’s blue button up, gray trousers, and black tie, is grinning excitedly and dramatically gesturing to Stede with both arms. Stede, sliding into the scene, looks equally excited. He is wearing Ed’s leather pants, fingerless gloves, mirrored sunglasses, and leather jacket zipped up over a bare chest.
5. Izzy, wearing a black tee shirt tucked into jeans, a spiked leather vest, one right glove, black choker, and ring on a necklace, stands angrily with his fists clenched at his side. In his left hand is a knife. His right arm has a rope tattoo wrapped around it that turns into a snake, as well as a cursive “Daddy” on his bicep. His left bicep is wrapped in a bleeding barbed wire tattoo. Someone has put a birthday hat on his head. Teeth clenched around a scowl as confetti rains down on him, Izzy growls, “I fookin hate this.”
/end ID]
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jobean12-blog · 4 months
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All Mine
Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (Biker!Joel AU)
Word Count: 2,064
Summary: You're not a fan of Joel's neighbor and after he hears what happens, he isn't either (not that he ever was).
Author's Note: I was just thinking about how hot Pedro is and especially the idea of Joel as a biker and I missed my biker!Joel so I thought this would be a fun way to revist him! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you sweet Daisy 🥰The edit below was done by my amazing friend Ellie @mrsmischief209 isn't he gorgeous? Thank you beauty! 💕
Warnings: there's some tension at first over the neighbor bc she stinks, but it's soft and sweet and there's fluff and some funny parts and then it gets super se-x-y and sp-i-c-y at the end.
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Joel Miller Masterlist
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The front door to Joel’s house opens before you even grab the knob.
“Hey there darl…”
You stomp past him with clenched fists and turn with a huff.
He stares at you and takes a tentative step forward, his arms outstretched.
“Your neighbor…” you start before crossing your arms over your chest and mumbling out something he doesn’t quite catch.
“Neighbor?” he asks with raised brows as he steps into your space and pulls you against his chest.
“This isn’t exactly the greeting I was hoping for,” he lightly teases as his head dips and he places a soft kiss just below your ear. “What happened?”
When his lips press to your skin you melt into his embrace, your whole body going pliant until you’re curled around him. His lips trail along your throat then ghost across your lips as he takes your face in his hand and forces you to look at him.
“Your neighbor needs to take a hint Joel!”
“What neighbor and what do you mean?” His expression hardens and you can feel his muscles tense. “Are you ok?”
You start to get wound up again and wiggle in his grasp but he doesn’t let go. He leads you to the couch and sits, taking you with him and placing you on his lap.
He waits as patiently as he can until you’re ready to talk, his fingers gentle along your skin as he rubs your back.
“She was outside when I pulled up and as soon as I got out of the car she scoffed. I mean who scoffs so loud someone can hear them from across the yard!?!”
Joel’s brow furrows in confusion as he continues to listen.
“On this side?” he asks, pointing to the left of his house.
You nod before you go on.
“Then, being the nice person I am,” you say as if it’s so obvious, “I said hello and asked how she was.”
He smiles reassuringly before giving your cheek a kiss.
“Do you know what she said to me?”
You huff out the words and your face scrunches up in anger.
“What darlin’?” he growls out. “Tell me before I go over there and find out myself.”
“You can relax…it wasn’t that bad.”
He looks at you expectantly.
“She said…and I quote, ‘oh, it’s you. I can’t believe you’re still around. Thought he would have been through with you a long time ago.’ Then she looks me up and down like I’m a piece of poo!”
“Poo?” he repeats and the corner of his mouth twitches with a smile even though his muscles are still taut.
“Don’t you dare laugh! THIS IS NO LAUGHING MATTER! THAT BITCH WANTS MY MAN!”
“What?” he says, making a disgruntled face.
“She totally wants you and she’s acting like if she gets rid of me you’ll be all hers!”
“What?” he says again, tightening his hold on you.
“What do you mean WHAT?” you screech. “You heard me! UGH! The audacity!”
“What’s her name again?” Joel asks.
You spit out her name.
“Oh right,” Joel says dismissively. “Who cares darlin.’ I’ve never looked her way. Not even once. And I never will.”
You study his face, his eyes full of sincerity, and soften against him.
“I know,” you whisper. “But it wasn’t nice and I don’t want her trying to seduce you or something when I’m not here.”
You bury your face in his neck and hide.
He starts to shake with laughter and when you peek up at him his eyes are crinkled and he’s wearing a wide grin.
“That’s ridiculous!” he says between laughs.
He softens when he sees you’re worried expression, his large hand lifting to cup your cheek.
“Darlin’,’ he murmurs. “No one could ever take me away from you.”
“And you’re right it wasn’t nice. Honestly, I have a mind to go over there and tell her to fuck off.”
“God I wish you could,” you huff.
“Why the hell can’t I?” he asks.
“Because…it might make her try harder.”
“That makes no sense.”
You pat his chest. “I know but trust me.”
He presses a calloused fingertip under your chin and keeps your eyes on his when he asks, “then how can I make his better darlin’?”
“Stop being so hot?” you pout with a small shrug.
His head falls toward his chest and he chuckles.
“Darlin’…”
You hop off his lap, evading his grabby hands until you’re standing between his spread legs. You look him over.
“For one…stop sitting like that.”
“Like what?” he asks and looks down at himself.
“Like that!” you say with a stomp of your foot. “You’re manspreading so bad you’re practically taking up the whole couch and those legs!”
“I’m comfortable,” he says defensively. “Besides…what do you want me to do with this thing.”
He points between his legs with a playful smirk.
“JOEL!!!!!!!!!!” you whine. “That’s exactly my point. She’s probably daydreams about how big it is!”
His eyes go wide and he shifts uncomfortably.
“You should probably stop wearing such tight jeans too.”
“I’m not changing my wardrobe for nobody! Like I said, she can fuck off.”
“Ughhhh,” you sigh as you fall dramatically onto the couch. “Forget it. Even if you wore a bag you’d be hot. It’s no use.”
“You should talk,” he says as he grabs your ankles and pulls you down flat.
He positions himself above you, caging you in with his arms. “You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
You smile and play with the fabric of his shirt. “But the neighbor doesn’t give two shits about me. She likes you.”
“These arms,” you sigh dreamily and lightly scrape your fingertips along his biceps. “The tattoos…”
You emphasize the last word with a poke to his solid chest and his smile grows. Your fingers comb through the hair lining his jaw before they slide between the soft strands on his head.
“You know she probably goes nuts over your bike too,” you state with a roll of your eyes.
He presses into you, letting just enough of his weight settle on top of you so you can feel every inch of him.
“Pretty sure you went nuts over my bike…”
“Well YEAH. Of course I did,” you say, your expression full of ‘duh.’  “You…on that bike…pretty irresistible.”
He winks down at you, leaning closer until his lips are just a breath away.
“You…bent over my bike…that’s irresistible.”
You giggle and give his hair a tug, pulling his lips to yours.
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“You wanna come help me?” Joel asks as he ties up his boots.
For a brief moment you just watch him, taking in his dark jeans pulled tightly across his thick thighs and his muscled forearms flexing with every movement he makes.
“I’m not letting you out of my sight,” you state decisively and lift your chin.
He gives you a lopsided smirk as he stands and takes your hand. “Good.”
He holds the door open for you and ushers you outside, stopping at his pickup truck to grab his tool box before he carries it to his bike that’s parked further down the driveway.
The neighborhood is quiet and when you peek over to the house next door it looks dark.
“She better not show up,” you mutter to yourself.
“What was that darlin’?” Joel asks, as he kneels to search for a tool.
“Hmm? Oh nothing,” you say and wave him off. “How can I help?”
As Joel’s kneeling down on one side of the bike and you’re on the other, hidden by the large machine, you hear a voice that makes you cringe.
“Oh Joel! There you are! I was hoping you could help me with something.”
You go still and wait. You can hear Joel’s sigh and see him stand and turn to your favorite neighbor.
“Hey,” he says blankly.
She smiles brightly and holds out a jar. “I just can’t seem to get this jar open for anything and I knew you’d be just the guy to ask…and here you are!”
She bats her lashes and steps closer to him. He quickly shoots his hand out and grabs the jar, effectively stopping her advance.
He takes it between his hands and twists the top once, easily popping it off.
“There ya go,” he says and hands it back to her.
She stands at stares at him in awe. “Oh wow. Thank you! You made that look so easy. You must have very…”
That’s as much as you can bear and you stand abruptly, causing Joel’s bike to wobble. The neighbor startles at your sudden appearance and her face goes sour.
“Oh yes,” you start with a saccharine smile. “His hands. They’re so big and strong and he knows just how to use them.”
Joel chokes out a cough to stifle his laughter and turns your way, winking knowingly. The neighbor drags her eyes away from you with a roll and pins them back on Joel, letting her gaze move down his body with appreciation.
“I love your bike,” she says to him.
You saunter over and stand next to Joel. He winds his arm around your waist and tucks you into his side.
“Beautiful, isn’t it,” you agree. “And the ride is even better.”
You lean into Joel and slip your hand inside his leather jacket. The way you emphasize the word ‘ride’ doesn’t go unnoticed and his fingers dig into your skin.
The neighbor ignores you completely and asks Joel, “is something wrong with it? I see you have all your tools out.”
“No,” he replies. “Just doing a tune up before we leave.”
With those words he releases you with a kiss and goes back to work.
“We’re going on an overnight trip,” you explain.
She gives you a look that screams, ‘I didn’t ask you.’ You go on anyway.
“We’re going to sleep out under the stars. It’ll be chilly at night…but Joel knows how to keep me warm.”
You giggle with your last words and lift your shoulders sweetly. The neighbors face scrunches up in anger.
“Alright darlin.’ Everything looks good. Let’s go.” 
You twinkle your fingers at the neighbor and wait as Joel puts the helmet over your head and secures the strap. He then takes off his leather jacket and puts it on you, zipping it up to your chin. You snuggle into it with a big inhale and say, “smells so good.”
The neighbor face gets even more sour but both you and Joel ignore her and hop on the bike. He revs the engine a few times before taking off down the road in a blur.
Once Joel reaches your destination he pulls over and moves deeper onto the soft dirt before stopping. He holds the motorcycle steady as you climb off and start to remove the helmet.
His hands settle on your waist and he looks you over.
“How’re you doin’ darlin’?”
“Better,” you whisper. “She got the hint. And I think I’m really starting to understand why riding is so enjoyable.” 
He chuckles and raises his brows questioningly.
“The speed, the wind against your skin, your body pressed to mine…all the vibrations.”
With those few words Joel’s entire focus shifts and his voice drops when he asks, “you like that?”
“Mm hm. I love it.”
“Darlin’,” he murmurs.
He closes the space between you, kissing you hard and grabbing your ass. He kneads your flesh and you arch into his touch. He doesn’t stop and gives your ass cheek a hard slap.
“Ohhh,” you moan. “Was that because of what I said earlier?”
“I liked everything you said. Now how about you turn around and bend over my bike darlin.”
Even as he says it he doesn’t wait for you to do it and spins you himself, pressing gently until your resting on the seat. He runs his hands down your back, reaching the waistband of your jeans. His hard cock grinds against you and you hiss in pleasure.
He leans over you, pressing a line of soft kisses down your neck while he makes quick work of your jeans, helping you wiggle out of them until they lock at your feet. His rough fingertips caress your newly exposed skin and he hums in appreciation before dropping to his knees.
“Look at you,” he murmurs. “Fuck darlin.’ I can’t wait to taste you.”
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@hiddles-rose @littleseasiren @lorilane33 @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989 @lizette50
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fenrir-flamekeeper · 7 months
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here they are
the biker boys i promised
[ID: fully rendered digital half body drawing of Geralt and Jaskier from Witcher Netflix as bikers, kissing. Jaskier has long open hair and a full beard. He is wearing a leather jacket under a leather vest with part of a backpatch showing. His right hand is resting on Geralt's chest. Geralt is wearing his hair in the usual half updo, and his chin and cheeks are covered in stubble. He is wearing a dark grey, sleeveless shirt with a small logo of three black wolf heads, the writing above reading "white wolves", the writing below "Kaer Morhen". He is wearing his wolf amulet and his visible arm is covered in tattoos of a wolf, a griffin, and a skull with mushrooms, fern and oak leaves. He is gripping Jaskier by the side of his vest. They have strands of each other's hair braided into their own. ID end.]
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holylulusworld · 8 months
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Pick you up
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Summary: Daddy comes to save the day.
Pairing: Biker!Ari Levinson x fem!Reader
Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers
Warnings: angst, bitchy girls, heavy daddy kink, caregiver Ari, sexual harassment (not Ari), implied violence, hurt & comfort (kinda), fluff, comforting, protective Ari
Read the prequel here: Let you down
Pick you up masterlist
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“Daddy, please come pick me up. They are all so mean to me,” you sniff on the phone. “I don’t want to stay here. I thought this is going to be fun, but it’s not.”
The girls from your workplace watch you on the phone. They roll their eyes and huff.
“She calls her daddy to pick her up. We were right. She’s not mature enough for our little club. I don’t know what a girl like her wants in New York.”
You hang up and sigh. The plan to spend the weekend with the people you’re working with went down the drain the moment they started to talk low about your outfit, your make-up (or rather the lack of it), and the fact that you don’t want to talk about yourself with people you barely know.
Ignoring your nagging colleagues, you walk out of the living room to grab your bag and jacket. You will wait outside for your daddy to pick you up.
You exhale sharply when one of them follows you outside. “You didn’t have to call your daddy. How old are you, twelve?”
“Just leave me alone,” you shoulder your bag and grab the door handle. “I’ll be waiting outside. I want nothing to do with you and the others.”
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It doesn’t take more than ten minutes before you see his bike. Your heart flutters when your daddy brings the motorcycle to a complete stop. He plants both feet firmly on the ground, making you shiver as you stare at his long legs.
You wring your hands as he kicks the kickstand down with his left foot and leans the bike on it. 
“Fuck, daddy,” you press your thighs together, adding pressure to your tingling clit.
Ari swings his right foot over the motorcycle to get off it. He takes off his helmet and grins when his eyes land on you.
Eyes glued to Ari; you swallow thickly as he shakes his head to tame his mane.
“That’s…her … daddy?” Your colleagues gathered outside to get a look at your father. Or so they thought. They didn’t know you called your daddy, not your father. “He looks too young for being her father.”
“You are telling me!” Suzanne, the leader of the little group harassing you sneers. “That guy is not her father.”
“He’s so tall and handsome,” Caroline says. “No wonder she didn’t want to play with one of the guys. She’s got a hunk at home.”
“A daddy,” Suzanne grunts. “I knew something is off with that bitch.”
While your colleagues watch you and Ari, he worriedly calls your name.
“Y/N, what happened,” Ari asks, furrowing his brows as you run toward him to bury your face in his chest. “Baby kitten. Do I need to break bones or faces?”
“They wanted to play truth or dare, and spin the bottle,” you begin. “I agreed, because why not?”
“Okay.” Ari hums. “Go ahead. Daddy is here now.”
“Uh-I didn’t know there will be guys too, I swear.” You feel Ari stiffen. A deep rumble emits from his chest, and you know, someone is in trouble. You only hope it isn’t you. “I didn’t want to spin the bottle anymore because they changed the rules.”
“What rules? Tell me about it, princess,” you relax and take a deep breath. Ari always makes you feel safe and calm.
“They said we need to choose truth or dare. I chose dare, and suddenly the guys from the company were there too. They wanted to play too and Suzanne said I must kiss one of them.”
“I’ll kill them,” he growls. No one touches you but him. “No one forces my girl to kiss them.”
“I refused and chose truth instead. I said that I cannot kiss someone else because I got my boyfriend at home. They laughed, but agreed,” You sniffle. “They wanted me to tell them about the last time we had sex. I refused and they made fun of me. Calling me an uptight virgin.”
“It’s alright, I’m here now. Even if you were a virgin, it wouldn’t be a reason to make fun of you. They are awful people,” Ari softly speaks to you. You’re already worked up and he doesn’t want to risk you starting to hyperventilate. “No one is going to hurt you.”
“That’s not all.” You whimper now. “The game continued. The guys joined us. After a few rounds, the bottle landed on me. One of them chose dare and they…they wanted me to…”
“Baby, what happened?”
“They wanted me to ride one of the guys’ thighs. I told them that I got a boyfriend and won’t cheat on him. At first, I thought it was a joke. But they tried to push me onto that guy. I cried and grabbed my phone.”
“And then you called me,” Ari concludes as you slowly nod against him. “Good girl. You knew daddy always comes to your aid. Let me just kill them for you.”
“Please don’t leave me alone. Please,” you sniffle. “I don’t want to be alone with them ever again.”
“Princess, come with me.” Ari takes your bag out of your hands. He wraps one arm around your shoulders to guide you away from your colleague’s house and toward the street.
“Where are we going…?” you gasp as you see the whole club waiting for you and Ari.
You forgot that they wanted to go for a ride. Guilt washes over you. It was Ari’s day off and he wanted to spend it with his friends. Now you messed this up too.
Steve, the boss of the club gets off his bike. He nods at Ari as your boyfriend points at you. “Steve will take care of you for a moment. You like Steve right? He’s a good man and will protect you. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” you whimper.
“I’ve got her, Ari. Do what you must do,” Steve’s features soften when you watch Ari leave your side. “He’ll be right back, Y/N. Don’t worry. Ari was out of his mind when he heard you cry on the phone.”
“Maybe we should help him?” Bucky, another member of the club asks. He sneaked around the area and heard every word. “I wouldn’t mind roughing those douchebags up. Break a bone or two.”
“Buck, that’s Ari’s job,” Steve warns. “If he needs our help, we will help. Give him a moment…”
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Meanwhile, at the house, Ari barks at the women harassing you. “My girl loves her job and won’t quit because of you. If you ever make her life harder or just look at her the wrong way, we all will pay you a visit.”
“We…we didn’t…” Suzanne stammers. She never got yelled at by a tall guy like Ari before and is close to wetting herself.
“I know what you did,” Ari snaps at her. “Who is the guy putting his hands on my girl? Who wanted to force her to ride his thigh?”
“Uh-it’s him!” The other men point at the man wanting you to ride him. “He said that he wants her before we started the game. We didn’t have anything to do with it. It was all Suzanne and him.”
“You—” Ari cracks his neck. “Well, then. Let me show you what happens when you harass a woman.”
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“Ari. Daddy,” you run toward Ari the moment you see him. “What happened?” You look at his bloody knuckles. “You’re hurt.”
“Did you give it to them good?” Bucky smirks. “I can help. Let me break a few bones.”
“Buck, stop. I know you are antsy since your girl left, but we’ve got no time to start a fight,” Steve grunts. “Let’s bring Y/N home. She had a rough day.”
Ari carefully guides you toward his bikes. He softly speaks your name and caresses your back. “I’ll bring you home now, princess.”
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After a short ride back home you are in Ari’s arms. He whispers soothing words and nuzzles his face in your neck.
You’re lying on a soft mattress, hidden under the pillowfort you and Ari built for days like these. Days in which the world gets too much for you.
“You’re safe with me, princess. Always.”
“I know,” you mumble sleepily. “My protector…”
>> Prequel
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kinanabinks · 1 month
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Biker Blood 🏍 P11
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gif: @netals
18+
The Red Skulls finally meet their retribution.
Content Warning: Biker!Steve x Reader, mature themes, kidnapping, violence, threat, use of weapons inc. guns, injury, blood, minor character deaths, angst, fluff.
Series Masterlist
a/n: please take this incredibly (almost two years) late update as my valentine's gift to you.
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"We got a big day ahead of us, Drifters. And Howlers. It's gonna be tough. It's gonna be brutal. Some us may get hurt. But today is also a special day, because today, our youngest Drifter has finally turned eighteen," Bruce announces with the attention of every single person in the bar on him. "Peter! You better finish that damn whiskey!"
With a grimace, Peter gulps down the liquor that Frank hands to him, while everyone cheers him on. Once he's finished it, Peter slams the empty glass onto the counter, shaking his head.
"Alright, alright, we'll have plenty of time to celebrate once we have Y/N back with us," Bruce says loudly, holding his hands up. "Today, Peter, you become a man. You may have been too young to get involved in the war, but you'll be fighting right alongside us tonight."
The room cheers for him, but everyone knows there's a bigger job at hand. Soon, everyone's packing up, preparing for the big fight. Steve's checking through rifles alongside Peter, who has a tense look on his face.
"What's wrong, kid?" Steve asks him with a raised brow. "Nervous for tonight?"
"Not really," Peter admits in response. "It's just... I have a friend, and I haven't seen her for a few days. Just worried."
"Oh," Steve utters, nodding. "She a Drifter?"
"Kinda. By association, I guess," Peter tells him before huffing. "It's just... you know, it's my birthday, and MJ always comes over in the morning on my birthday, but the last time we spoke, we got in a really bad fight. The worst fight we've ever had, and she hasn't picked up my calls since."
"This MJ," Steve begins, turning to face him. "She a friend, or a girlfriend?"
Timidly, Peter shrugs his shoulders. "I guess, somewhere in the middle?" He offers.
Steve places a firm hand on his shoulder and gives him a stern look. "A little word of advice, son: make it official as soon as you can. You don't wanna lose a good woman, and doing that is a lot easier than it sounds," He says curtly.
Taking in his words, Peter nods quickly. "Okay, Sir," He replies, his eyes wide.
"Don't worry," Steve iterates. "She'll come back around. And when she does, you know you're gonna do everything you can to keep a smile on her face and keep her safe." His words make him think of you, and his chest aches at the thought of you being in danger because of him.
"Stevie, you coming?" Yelena interjects with a raised brow, holding up a bag of ammo before slyly grinning. "I'm ready to destroy some Red Skull brains."
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"Alright, what's the plan?" You ask Wade while loading one of the guns he gave you.
"I was kinda hoping you'd come up with one," He replies with a wince, to which you glare at him.
"Are you being fucking-"
"Relax, Hot Wheels!" He cuts you off, glancing out the window through the blinds. "The Mutants have a clear goal tonight - end the Red Skulls. What's there to plan?"
Trying not to get too frustrated with him, you tell yourself to trust Wade and the others, knowing they're on your side. The Mutants are more than competent, and the Red Skulls admitted to you themselves that they're short on weapons and resources.
The first part of the plan is to kill the Skulls currently waiting outside Wade's office. Jasper, your fake fiancé, and Blackbeard, the wannabe pirate, are under the assumption that you're here to fuck Wade to persuade him to give the Skulls weapons. Billy gave you a short dress to wear along with a pair of heels one size too small for you, which means you aren't exactly dressed for a fight. Thankfully, Wade is prepped for this situation.
"Here," He says, tossing you a pair of his overworn, grey cargo pants, black shoes, and a black hoodie. You can't exactly complain, so you hold back your grimace and pull on the pants first, then kick off the tight heels and put on the sneakers that are a few sizes too big. Turning to the side, you take off the dress before replacing it with the hoodie, knowing Wade is definitely taking the opportunity to stare at your bra-covered chest but not caring enough to try harder to hide it.
Unable to stop being so him, Wade saunters over with a smug look on his face. "Hey," He begins while you pick up a dagger from the desk and wonder where the best place to put it might be. Wade looks you up and down, raising a brow before continuing, "Remember when we were younger and we used to fool around?"
Knowing where he's about to go, you give him a straight-faced look. "Can it, Wilson."
"I'm just saying - we might not get to see another day if shit hits the fan tonight," He says defensively as his eyes hungrily scan your body. "This might be our last day on Earth. Don't you wanna go out with a bang?"
With an unamused look, you pull on the strings of the pants around your waist and tighten them. "I have a boyfriend," You remind him curtly.
He shrugs and asks, "Is it serious?"
You quickly bring the dagger up to his neck and glare up at him. "Deadly."
Holding his hands up in surrender, Wade steps back. "Alright, alright," He gives up, before quickly adding, "Call me when it goes bad."
You roll your eyes and try to focus on getting as many weapons on your person as possible, but your mind can't help but stray to Steve. What's he doing right now? How long did it take him to notice your absence? Have Bucky and Peggy finally got what they wanted?
"Might have already," You mumble after a few moments. Wade looks confused, so you add, "Gone bad, I mean."
"Why do you say that?" He asks, frowning while looking through the scope on the sniper rifle in his hands.
Looking down, you lower your voice. "He's the reason I'm here," You utter.
Wade immediately looks at you with narrow eyes. "What?"
"Well, his friends are," You clarify. "They hate me because they're in love with him, so they gave me up to Billy Rumlow. I don't know if Steve even knows yet. I don't know what twisted story they've given him about me being a Red Skull."
"Would he believe them?" Wade questions you. "If they told him you willingly left? That you've been a Skull this whole time?"
Taking a few moments to think about it, you sigh. After everything you've been through, everything Steve's said to you, all the ways he's proven himself to you... can you really doubt him?
"No," You finally decide, confident in your answer. "He wouldn't. He trusts me, and I trust him."
"How sweet," Wade mumbles bitterly, before his face drops and he cocks his gun. "Now, let's go cave in some Skulls."
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War comes back to you like riding a bike. Though it's been a long time since you've fought, you handle a gun like it's barely been a day.
The Mutants are good fighters, but their numbers are nothing compared to the Red Skulls. You can feel your side weakening, but you don't let that knock your confidence.
"How you holding up, kid?" Logan asks you while you catch your breath, clutching your left shoulder.
"Good. I'm good," You claim with a wince.
"Yeah? That bullet didn't hurt?" He asks with a raised brow.
You look down to your hand which is covered in your blood and grit your teeth as pure pain pulses through your arm. "Nah. I'm bulletproof," You assure him with a smirk, hoping he can't tell you're inwardly screaming in agony.
"Can you still go on?" Logan asks with a look of concern as he peers around the corner. He shoots at someone before turning back to you. "I can get someone to take you back."
"No. I'm fine," You insist stubbornly, taking in a deep breath. "I started this, and I'm gonna end it."
"How adorably honorable," A deep voice booms from behind, making you jump. You don't need to look at him to know it's Billy. You twist your neck to the left and, lo and behold, it's him. Blood coats his clothing, some dried and some still fresh. A few small wounds on his body tell you that most of it isn't his own.
Ignoring the way your entire body is aching, you stand up to your feet. Before you can get a word out, Logan all but sprints at Billy with a wild yell. You have no time to react and before Logan can land a hit, Billy punches him clean in the head.
"Fuck!" You can't help but cry out, flinching as Logan's body hits the ground. With no time to figure out whether or not he's breathing, you lift up your gun to aim it at Billy, but the large man is already storming over to you. He slaps the weapon out of your hand before grabbing you by the throat and dragging you onto the desert road where he shoves you into the back of a black van. With a sly grin, he slams the doors shut.
This can't be how it ends. You're deeply disappointed in yourself for letting him capture you. Kicking and screaming, you pound your fists on the doors, but it's clear there's no one with any sympathy for you listening.
You feel the engine of the van come to life.
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Wade's had better days.
With a groan, he pulls his knife out of the man under him with a squelch and gets up to his feet. It feels like the fight is coming to an end, but it doesn't feel like he's winning. With a twisted ankle weakening him with every step he takes as shots of pain fire through his leg, he grimaces and limps out of the shot-up bar.
There are still plenty of soldiers on both sides fighting. Wade looks around the desert, looking for you, but he comes up empty. Shit. Are we losing right now?
He stealthily makes his way over to the pile of barrels, thinking it'll make a good sniper point for him to camp out at. When he gets there, it seems someone else had the same idea.
"Shit!" Logan hisses as Wade's heavy boot lands on his fingers. "You stupid fucking prick!"
With a rush of relief, Wade falls to his knees and wraps his arms around the man. "You're alive!" He gushes, kissing his cheek multiple times. "I'm so fucking happy to see you, dude. I was scared I lost you!"
"Please. You think a little scuffle with some Red Skulls is how I plan to go out?" Logan scoffs with offence.
Lying on his stomach next to him, Wade aims his rifle outwards, resting it between the gaps of two barrels. "Tell me you've seen Hot Wheels in the last five minutes?" He says, trying not to sound desperate but failing. "If she's dead, Big Bruce will kill me."
"She's alive," Logan replies. "I think. Billy found us here. He knocked me out and by the time I came to, they were both gone. I figure, if either of them died, their body would still be here. So my guess is, he's taken her."
"Shit. This wasn't supposed to be a game of Capture the Flag," Wade groans. "The fuck are we gonna do?"
"I don't know, but it looks like a lot more bodies are joining this fight," Logan mutters as he looks out to the distance where multiple trucks and bikes are approaching. "I hope those are our reinforcements."
Following his gaze, Wade feels his guts churn. "I didn't call anyone," He says, shaking his head. "If those are more Red Skulls, we are absolutely fucked."
Logan turns to look at the nervous man next to him. "You bring any grenades?"
Wade scoffs. "The fuck? I thought this was gonna be a simple gunfight. I didn't expect it to go on this long - I thought they barely had any resources to their name?"
"Maybe they called up a few friends," Logan suggests as the vehicles get closer.
"The Red Skulls have no friends," Wade points out bitterly. "Well, this is out. C'mon. Fuck hiding. Let's go out in a blaze of glory."
The two men get up to their feet and hold hands as they walk out to no-man's-land. Accepting their fate, and happy to die as martys, they watch as the bikes rapidly approach.
"Hey man, I've never told you this, but I love you," Wade says, lifting up his gun and aiming it at the newcomers.
Logan lets out a sigh. "I love you too, Wilson," He replies stoicly.
Wade's eyes flicker to the side. "Also, while we're admitting things, I, uh, regularly jerk off while thinking about you," He says bluntly. "Not- not in a sexual way. I just really admire you, you know? I look up to you, dude."
His eye twitches, but Logan does his best to remain calm and straight-faced, deciding not to react to what he just heard. Instead, he zeroes in on the emblem painted on the side of the oncoming trucks. "Hold on... Wilson, I don't think those are Red Skulls," He says with widening eyes.
Wade gasps as he recognizes the driver in the closest truck. "That - that's fucking Big Bruce! And Pepper!" He cheers, putting down his gun and waving his arms wildly. "Fuck, yeah! Drifters!"
On their way onto the battlefield, the Drifters and Commandos decimate the remaining Red Skulls with a shower of bullets. Wade and Logan watch with twisted glee as their saviors reach them. The blond is first off his bike, immediately storming over to the two men. There's a fierce look in his eyes as he approaches them, making Wade think he must be the Steve you're so obsessed with. A couple of Red Skulls try to attack him but he quickly beats them down, ruthlessly ending them both. Wade hardly blames you for being so obsessed as he gets a proper look at Steve, if that is him. The words that are hissed from the blond's mouth only confirm Wade's thoughts.
"Where is she?"
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You've come to the realization that you don't like being held against your will. Up until last week, you never had been, but starting with Bucky's and Peggy's capture, you've never caught a break since.
"How stupid are you?" Billy spits bitterly. "I gave you one order. All you hadda do was secure the deal with the Mutants, but you had to screw us over, just like you screwed us over all those years ago."
Tired of his voice, you lean your head back against the cold, concrete wall. "What is this, Rumlow? Just kill me if you hate me that much," You say with a defeated tone. "I'm the bane of your life. I ruined everything for you and the Red Skulls. So, just kill me."
A smile slowly grows on his lips as he moves closer to where you're sitting on the floor, putting you on edge. "That would be far too easy for you, honey," He snarls, crouching down to your level. Reaching his hand out, he begins to stroke your cheek, making you cringe. "See, you destroyed my legacy. Turned my own blood against me. You're the reason I lost a lot of good men. And now I can't even strike a deal with a decent weapons seller because of how you tarnished my name," He says, his voice oddly gentle, but slowly turning into a sneer. "So, I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to keep you. You're going to marry Jasper. You're going to be a subordinate wife, and daughter-in-law." He moves closer still, lowering his voice to a whisper. "You'll be nothing more than a baby-making machine. How it should be. Sensible. Well-behaved. Controlled."
You can't hear your own breath over the sound of his, but you're not sure you're breathing, anyway. Somehow, he's not only articulated your worst nightmare but threatened to make it come true, too.
"I hope you've enjoyed your years of freedom, Drifter," Billy goes on to say with a smirk. "You've caused a lot of chaos and pain with it. It's only right that I snuff it out."
Your hands are tied to a thick metal pole to your left, but your legs sit free beneath you. They twitch as you fantasize about killing him with a hard kick to the head. Probably not very realistic, but the image of it pleases you. So much so, that you do your best to bring it to life. With a rushed intake of air through your nose, you lift up your leg and boot your thick-soled shoe, courtesy of Wade, directly onto his face. Billy instantly falls backwards, covering his gushing nose with his hands as he groans loudly.
"You fucking bitch!" He yells as he writhes on the ground for a few seconds, breathing heavily. Seeing another opportunity to inflict pain, you kick your leg forward again, this time delivering a blow to his crotch. The cry he lets out this time is much more high-pitched, making you grin sadistically. It's not usual for you to take pleasure in seeing an old man in pain, but when he deserves it as much as Billy Rumlow does, it's a joyous sight indeed.
With a grunt, he gets back up to his feet before storming over to you. You kick your legs out wildly but he grabs them, pure fury on his face. He throws them against the wall, causing a sharp pain to shoot through them both as you grit your teeth together. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of hearing you cry out in pain. Not even when he's delivering blow after blow to your face, yelling out curse words.
Just as you think you're about to pass out, there's a banging sound outside the warehouse. Billy stands up straight, giving you a break from assault, with a confused frown on his face. Whoever just joined you definitely wasn't invited.
Heavy footsteps as well as a familiar whistling sound out, making your stomach flip.
"Goddamn, Billy, this really where you operate?" The voice calls out, and you can almost hear the cocky grin splayed on the owner's face. "I was expecting much better from you."
Suddenly, the door to the small room you're being held in slams opens and crashes against the wall. The blood from the wound on your head drips into your eyes, making them sting, but you can't afford to close them and miss this.
"What the fuck?" Billy utters, looking at the intruder as if he's a ghost. And well, Billy might actually think it is a ghost, seeing as Brock Rumlow died almost a decade ago.
"Hello, Uncle," Brock greets him with a wiry grin as he steps into the room, toothpick hanging from his lips and rifle resting on his shoulder. Your heart soars at the sight, though you're almost as confused as Billy to see Brock here.
"You- you should be dead," Billy says, staggering backwards. "How are you-"
"Shut the fuck up," Brock cuts him off coldly. He takes a glance at you and his gaze hardens. "You never could leave us alone, could you? Always had to interject yourself in our lives, and look where it's got you."
Billy takes one look at the gun on his nephew's shoulder and his eyebrow twitches as he tries to keep his cool. "Ain't nothing honorable about faking your death and running from your family. Abandoning your duties," He says lowly. "How about you try and retain whatever shred of dignity you have, and we settle this like real men?"
With a cocky shrug, Brock drops his rifle on the ground and takes a few steps further into the room. "Fine by me, Billy," He says, tapping his cheek. "Here: I'll even let you take the first hit."
"You smarmy little fucker!" Billy yells as he pounds over to Brock and immediately throws a punch. As he promised, Brock lets him have it, but as soon as he recovers from the hit, there's a new look in his eyes. It's almost primal. This is a fight to the death.
You watch on, wincing whenever Brock catches a hard blow. It's a fairly equal fight, and you have to admit that you're impressed Billy can keep up with someone 20 years his junior. As the battle heats up, the faint sound of bikes gets louder and louder. You're hoping it's back-up for Brock, but judging by the slight relief that blooms on Billy's face, you're worried it's not.
"You're really fucked now, kid," He sneers as he slams Brock's head into the pipe your hands are tied to. "But don't worry - I'll let your girlfriend live. She'll make a lovely bride for Jasper, just like she did for you. However brief your marriage was."
Brock spits blood out at his uncle before snorting. "Jasper? That wimp can't hold his own against a puppy, let alone her," He chuckles, a flash of fear jetting across his eyes as the sound of multiple bikers entering the warehouse fills the room. With a huff, Brock kicks Billy onto his back before rushing over to you and untying you.
"What are you doing here?" You ask him with a hiss. "As grateful as I am, you should be halfway across the world!"
Brock just smiles at you, despite how painful it is for him to do so with all the cuts on his face, thanks to Billy's obnoxious rings. "Your boyfriend can be pretty persuasive when he's angry," He says cryptically, pulling the rope off your sore wrists. "As soon as I heard Billy had you, I couldn't stay away. It didn't feel right to let you end this fight alone, when it's me that started it with you all those years ago. Here," He gives you a pistol, which you're thankful for as Billy made sure to take all your weapons when he captured you.
"Thank you, Brock," You whisper as he helps you to your feet. "Now, let's end this."
He grins at your words. "You still as good a fighter as you used to be?"
With a shrug, you take the safety off the pistol. "We're about to find out."
At least eight men rush into the room. Billy is taken over to the side by two of them who make sure he's breathing, leaving you and Brock to take on the remaining six. The first guy goes down easy but the second grabs your gun off you. You evade the first bullet he fires by ducking, and grab the large knife in his waistband while you're there before straightening your back and plunging it in his chest. He falls to the ground with a grunt. You don't have time to pry your gun from his dying hands as the third man is now on you, doing his best to pin you down. It's clear that they've been given instructions not to kill you, which makes it somewhat easier to kill them.
Brock plows through his three assailants with ease, picking his rifle back up from the ground once they're all down. Without hesitation, he puts bullets in the heads of the two trying to drag a weak Billy out of the room. With that, the henchmen are defeated.
It's as if the next minute happens in slow motion.
All you know for sure is that Brock aimed his gun at Billy first. What you aren't sure about, though, is who fired first.
Billy's dead on impact. Brock's bullet proudly sits in his forehead. Brock, however falls to the ground, clutching his stomach from which blood is pouring out at an alarming rate.
"No," You whimper, falling to your knees and cradling his head. "No, no, no. Stay with me, Brock."
He lets out a grunt, still managing to give you a weak smile. "Hey, Pretty Drifter," He mumbles weakly, outstretching his hand and gently stroking your hair. "This ain't a bad final view. Blood included; makes you even hotter."
"Shut it, Rumlow, you're gonna be fine," You say sternly, rocking back and forth nervously. "I just need to get you on one of these assholes' bikes, then I can take you to a hospital."
As the blood continues streaming out of his body, his face slowly pales. "Don't bother, Drifter, I ain't lasting much longer," He says, trying his best to hide how much pain he's in. "But look on the bright side: at least now, we don't have to get divorced."
"No!" You cry as your eyes sting and your stomach aches. "Don't you dare take the easy way out. I wanna divorce you properly. I want a lengthy court process - I want alimony!"
He chuckles as best he can, holding onto your hands which are placed to his bullet wound. His blood coats both your hands and his. "He's a good guy. Rogers. Really loves you. I'm- I'm glad to be leaving you in his hands," Brock chokes out his words.
"You're not leaving me!" You tell him curtly, shaking your head. "I thought I lost you once already. I can't mourn you again, Brock, I can't."
A shaky breath leaves his mouth. He tightens his grip on your hands. "I'll be with you. I'll be in the stars, next to your ma, and Vinnie," He promises. "You know, they'd be so proud of you."
With that, you burst into tears. "Screw you, Rumlow!"
Brock laughs, and it's the last time he smiles. "I love you, Pretty Drifter. See you later," He utters, before his eyes flutter shut.
You don't have much time to cry as soon, the sound of engines and bikes once again reaches your ears. More Red Skulls, you think bitterly to yourself. With a huff, you stand up, taking Brock's rifle with you as leave the warehouse. The early evening sun warms your blood-covered skin as you stand tall and proud, ready to gun down as many of them as possible. You count four, five, six trucks, and twice as many bikes. Shit. Well, you may be going down, but you won't be going down easy.
Aiming your rifle at the closest bike, you take in a deep breath as you prepare yourself for more pain than ever. You're surprised they haven't started shooting yet - you guess they assume Billy's still alive and thus, so is his order to keep you breathing as Jasper's future wife.
You look through the scope of the rifle so you can get a better aim, wanting to get a clean headshot. When you do, however, you realizing that these aren't Red Skulls at all. Is that... Druig? And Frank? And-
"Steve," You breathe out with wide eyes, lowering the gun as he races over to you. He harshly brakes a few metres away before jumping off his bike and sprinting over to you, tackling you in the tightest hug you've ever been a part of. And the most painful.
"Shit, sorry, fif," He whispers when he hears you wince. He looks you up and down, concern filling his eyes. You're covered in blood, most of it your own, and you're slightly swaying.
"Steve," You repeat, in slight disbelief. He's got a few of his own wounds, though they're nothing compared to yours. He's been fighting. He came to fight. He came for you.
"There she is!" Frank whoops with a wide grin as the rest of them leave their vehicles.
It's too much to take in at once. The family you haven't seen in years, and the love of your life holding you in his big arms while stars fill your view. Stars? At this time of day? Steve's talking, but his voice sounds far away. Before you can ask him to repeat himself, you black out.
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It feels surreal to be sitting on the same roof you'd sit on every day after school when you were a kid. Back then, you'd be accompanied by Pepper as she ranted about the latest fight she was having with her best-friend-slash-worst-enemy or the most recent date she had with whichever unfortunate soul she had in her clutches at the time. Or you might've instead snuck Brock over, the two of you drinking stolen whisky from Vinnie's stash while planning the rest of your lives. Tonight, though, you're alone. You can hear everyone talking and laughing in the backyard from where you are, which gives you comfort. Music plays and the smell of barbecue drifts up to you, and for the first time in a while, you feel safe.
Though you're enjoying the solace, you're not mad to hear footsteps climbing up the stairs to the roof. You sit back, taking a long sip of beer as you stare out at the stars which seem to be shining a little brighter than usual.
"Thought you'd be up here."
You smile as Pepper takes a seat next to you. "Best seat in the house."
She takes your beer and has a sip while nudging your shoulder playfully. "That Steve of yours is a sweetheart," She says. "How in the hell did you end up with someone like that?"
Confused, you raise a brow. "What? You wanted me to settle down with a mean bastard?"
"No, but I definitely expected you to," She admits. "The men we usually meet in this line of work are rough, and horrible."
"He can be rough when he wants to be," You tell her, and when you realize how that sounds, you shoot her a wink.
"Gross!" She exclaims, nudging you harder before she bites her lip. "And, uh, what's that Tony guy like?"
Immediately knowing why she's asking, you laugh heartily. "My God, Pep, you'd eat him alive!" You say before adding, "But he'd probably be into that."
"You think?" She asks, grinning. "By the way, Bruce said he was giving Natasha a tour of the clubhouse, but I haven't seen either of them for an hour."
"Gross," You grimace, shaking your head as you laugh again. "So everybody's partnering up?"
"Looks like it," She says, before resting her head on your shoulder. "He's doing really well, giving you space, but you're really mean for not being with him right now."
You let out long sigh. "It's been a long week, and a long, long day. I just needed to clear my head. I missed him so much," You realize just how much you miss him as the words leave your mouth. "I need to talk to him."
"I'll send him up," Pepper says, giving you a quick hug. "Don't screw it up. I know his friends fucked you over, but this guy's a gem. Very rare to find a guy like him, you know."
"I know, Pep," You assure her. "Thank you."
Not five minutes later, Steve's replaced her presence on the roof.
You open your arms as he climbs up the stairs, and he quickly rushes over to you before engulfing you in his arms. For a few peaceful moments, the two of you rock back and forth gently, kissing and cuddling and whispering sweet nothings to one another.
"Sorry for being so antisocial," You begin. "I just-"
"You don't need to explain yourself," He cuts in gently, rubbing your back. "I missed you so much, fifty-three. This week's felt like a year."
"It has," You whisper, clutching onto his jacket. "So much has happened. John- fuck, John."
"They're saying it was drug-related," He tells you. "Apparently, they found coke in his office. A lot of it. Nothing else besides his body was found at the scene. No traces of you, or anyone else."
You let out a heavy sigh. "I know he was a jackass, but he didn't deserve to die," You say, resting your head against his chest. "And Brock... shit."
Steve's grip around you tightens. "I am so sorry, fif," He says lowly. "If it wasn't for Peggy and Buck, none of this would have happened. As soon as I found out what they did-"
"Please tell me she's still alive," You say curtly. "Tell me I get the satisfaction of fucking her up for what she did."
His eyes flicker down to meet yours. "Tasha fucked her up pretty good," He tells you. "Sent her packing back to England after beating her to within an inch of her life."
That provides you with some contentment, though you really would have preferred to have done it yourself. "Buck still breathing?" You ask him.
Steve looks out to the stars. "As much as I wanted to, I couldn't kill him. I know he fucked up, but we grew up together. He was... I thought he was my brother," He says, making you wince.
"I'm sorry," You sigh. "I don't... I don't know why they did it. I mean, I know why. Because they loved you. I just don't know why they felt the need to destroy me for loving you, too."
"They thought they were protecting me," Steve mutters bitterly. "Buck's moved down South. Got him working at one of Howard's factories. I don't want him dead, but I also don't want him anywhere near you, ever again."
Your fingers intertwine with his. At the end of a traumatic week, being in his embrace feels like heaven. Yes, your entire body aches, and it'll be a while before you can walk straight again, but none of that matters. Not when you're with him.
"I'm pretty sure Peter's planning on proposing to MJ tonight, by the way," He informs you, making you sit up.
"I am not missing that," You say, quickly getting up to your feet.
"Hold on," He calls out as he stands up, pulling your body flush against his. Leaning down, he cups your face in his hand, being careful not to graze the cut on your chin. "I love you, fifty-three. Always."
Smiling up at him, you wrap your arms around his shoulders. "I love you, Steve," You reply, your voice barely above a whisper. The stars twinkle in the night sky behind him, mirroring the shine of his blue eyes. He smiles back down at you. And without wasting another minute, he kisses you.
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... the end!
guys. i'm so sorry it took me almost two years to complete this but i'm so fucking happy that i actually managed to get around to it. this is a story i LOVED writing and it's been so much fun exploring these characters.
while the main story is now complete, i am most definitely planning on continuing to write for biker!steve and his fiffy. let me know if there are any one shots you'd like me to write for them :)
thank you to anyone who actually stuck around long enough to see this through with me. you're all eternally lovely.
xoxo
kinny
p.s. if you'd like to kindly support me, you can buy me a kofi <3
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enmascribbles · 7 months
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I may or may not have written a lmk motorcycle au where everything is the same but macaque does his shadow theatre AND does motorcycle racing (and wins)
also by no means if you wanna draw this do you have to follow this ref this is more for me cause i forget things too easily
The fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48068821
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this was a sketch i did before i finalized his design in my brain
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cosmicpoutine · 6 days
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[modern/biker au] they're still grounded from their previous antics.
im gonna be taking this in small parts of them being stupid, but im gonna try to go deeper into the biker au. be patient guys
part 1/ ??
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inspired by this post of @danijaci, dear your art is beautiful, amazing talent and skills and here i am fangirling like my life depends on it ㅠㅠ
biker!dan heng x reader. hcs about domesticity, him being a biker and smut, therefore mdni. i will divide the three categories, smut being the last one. enjoy~
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biker & boyfriend hcs
when you two weren't yet in a relationship he used to make tricks to impress you, but sometimes he would fall and get hurt
in one such occasion, he broke his arm and you had to take him to the er; after he got a cast you talked his ears off about how dangerous and stupid was what he did, also telling him the heart attacks you got every time and how scared you got when he fell
mortified, he begged for your forgiveness, finding enough courage to confess his feelings for you; he was surprised you returned them, but a fond smile appeared on his bruised face
(you had to admit though, he looked like one of those tough guys you saw in movies, all bandaged up, dressed in black, with ruffled hair and kissable lips)
since then he never did tricks ever again, both because he learned his lesson and because he didn't want to scare you again
he always makes sure your helmet is properly locked before he takes you out for a ride; your safety is his priority
he bought you a leather jacket for your outings, so you won't get cold or fall sick because of the strong winds
normally he doesn't go too fast when he's alone, but when you're with him he gladly goes the fastest he can just to feel your arms tighten around his waist and your chest press against his back; you then talk his ears off about safety and speed limits
he always scouts ahead searching for the most beautiful sceneries around the city, so he can take you there and admire your sparkling eyes while losing yourself in the view
he loves kissing you on his bike, his arms around your waist and yours around his neck, his feet firmly planted on the ground to keep balance
he also likes getting his hair fixed by you after he removes his helmet; the feeling of your gentle hands fluffing his locks always has a soothing effect on him, exactly what he needs after a ride
domesticity hcs
in the morning you always wake up wrapped in a tight hug, your face buried in your boyfriend's chest. you raise your head for what you can and kiss him, earning a sleepy smile from dan heng
he cooks you breakfast, preparing both things you like and you need, like fruit, and reminds you to drink water before eating; you need to hydrate first thing in the morning!
he gladly rides you to your college/workplace and also picks you up on lunch break to eat together, then takes you back to finish your classes/shift
your friends and classmates/colleagues are pretty much enamoured with your handsome and caring boyfriend, yet his emerald gaze is only for you, always searching your figure for his comfort and peace of mind
he likes to slow dancing with you in the living room, soft music playing from his small bluetooth speaker as he makes you twirl around, your laughter a sound much more melodious than the music
helps you drying/brushing your hair after a long day, letting you rest your head against his chest as he goes through your haircare routine for you; you often fall asleep like that and he has to carry you to bed, but he doesn't mind
(nsfw under here)
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smut / nsfw hcs ; mdni!
rides usually have him high on adrenaline, so to calm down he fucks you on his bike seat or eats you out until he calms down; it usually means at least a couple of orgasms for you
the first time he fucked you on his bike you left a stain on the leather he never washed properly, leaving a darker spot on it. he says it's to mark your seat, as it belongs to you only
he always fucks you in the most scenic spots, loving the way the sunset light shines on you as you cream around his dick
related to above, he's an exhibitionist as the idea of being seen/heard turns him on; however, he always makes sure to cover you with his body, only your trembling legs on sight as they're up in the air, spread wide for him
parks his bike against a tree or wall to give you some sort of support during sex, if you're not riding him
he once took a pic of you sitting on his bike supporting yourself on your hands, still in post-coital bliss with your legs spread wide and your leaking pussy on display, the sunset behind you. he often uses that pic when you're not with him or needs a quick relief
loves trapping you between him and the bike, kissing and groping you until you have enough of it and beg to be fucked
the engine is often turned on during a session, the vibrations from its grumbling a nice stimulation that leaves you more sensitive for your boyfriend
once back home he always gives you a massage, knowing that fucking in the open on a bike isn't exactly comfortable
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© the-guardian-kitsune 2024 do not copy repost translate or feed to ai
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witchersoldier · 4 months
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Good Fucking Girl
rafe cameron x reader
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SUMMARY: you find yourself inside the globe of death with none other than Rafe Cameron.
WARNINGS: mentions of drug use I guess, cursing, suggestive themes, a little dark I think but not really, cringe and rushed writing, not proofread. English is not my mother tongue.
WORD COUNT: 1.0k
AUTHORS NOTE: once again posting just after just finishing it. I never double read my work, or else I'd never post anything bc I'd probably hate delete it and never write again.
It was supposed to be a simple kook party, well, as simple as those went. But now I found myself inside a large metal globe, curiosity, and a bit of a haze from the pot brownie I had few minutes ago, led the way. A crowd slowly started to form outside the cage, faces I didn’t recognize were filled with excitement.
“Great, the substitute’s already here. Cameron, you’re in now.” The guy just beside the globe door spoke. Before I could say anything back, engine revving filled my ears and a sudden rush of adrenaline took over me. Globe of Death, that’s what this was. How come I didn’t recognize it sooner? They thought I was some kind of substitute, but for what? I had no bike nor was I dressed as a stunt rider.
Faster than my eyes could register, a red bike pulled up beside me inside the globe. He wasn’t showing any skin, yet he looked so damn delicious. Those black and red leathers clung around his larger body, the helmet with dark visors gave him such a mysterious look. He just stood there, tall and confident, making me feel smaller and fragile.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” he spat at me, voice muffled. His hand flew to his visors pulling them up, revealing his ocean blue eyes. There was a hint of worry and anger, the latter was clearly not directed at me. I was stuck in place, trying to put together the pieces, his eyes and voice all too familiar. “Rafe?” my heart started racing, beating against my chest, so loud.
Fate was always bringing me to him, in the most unusual ways. Now this?
“Y/N get out of here now; you could get seriously hurt.” He looked down at me, commanding me to leave. Part of me felt scared and wanted to leave and obey him right now, but the need to defy him spoke so much louder inside of me. I didn’t have to prove him anything, but every time the Cameron boy was around me, I felt the undying urge to test his patience. Also, I could never let him see the power he has over me. “I’ll do what I please. And right now, I really feel like staying.” I raised my chin, looking deep into his eyes. Challenging him.
He only clenched his fist over his lap and chock his head, as if trying to get rid of his thoughts. Then again, strangely calm, he looked at me. “Fine. You want to do this? You got it. But if I see even one little hint of fear in you-” he didn’t finish his sentence, leaving it to my imagination. It was what he didn’t say that hit something deep inside of me, it made me feel hotness all over my body.
Rafe abruptly grabbed my wrists and put my arms above my head, making my red crop top ride up until it was barely covering my breasts. “Be a good girl for me and keep your arms up just like that, will ya?” Rafe’s voice was low as he gave me the order, his hand that was holding my arms up slowly traced down my body, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. When he reached the hem of my black skater skirt, he gave a barely-there squeeze and quickly put down his helmet visors. He revved his engine again, the vibration traveling through my body.
The crowd outside the cage was screaming, cheering. My friends probably somewhere looking at me, wondering ‘what the hell’s gotten into me’. The answer was right here inside the globe with me. Rafe Cameron. He’s got the talent of always getting under my skin, making me feel things no one else ever could, making me do things I normally wouldn’t, no matter how hard I tried to deny it, fight against it. That’s just the Rafe Cameron effect; he brings out parts of me that have always been there, just never stimulated enough.
And then the show began. Rafe started to make circles around me in his bike, going so fast I could barely make out his silhouette. The fear I felt before vanished so fast, in its place a feeling I didn’t think would make its way into this situation; arousal.
Rafe’s gloved hand touched the exposed skin on my waist, and he dragged it along as he kept circling around on his bike. My whole body felt like it was on fire, burning so hot, and the blood rushed to my core making me throb and clench around nothing, my body was betraying my mind. I wouldn’t be able to confront, deny Rafe after this, I’ll just be putty in his hands.
I don’t know if it was seconds, minutes or hours that passed by since he started touching me, but as soon as his hands left it was like the ground beneath my feet was disappearing too. I looked up to see Rafe taking of his helmet, still riding his bike around. His bangs hanging loosely on his forehead. He looked so heavenly right now, and I understood then when people said ‘looks can be deceiving’. No matter how angelic he’s looking now, Rafe Cameron’s the devil walking on Earth.
He handed his helmet for me to hold while he gave the final laps, and I held onto it like it was the only thing keeping me alive. At the moment, that’s what it felt like.
I only noticed the show was done when Rafe’s now bare hand touched my ass under my skirt. I couldn’t even fight it, his touch felt so fucking right, even with all those prying eyes around. If I was honest, the people watching us exchanging touches only made my body burn hotter.
His free hand came up to my jaw, forcing me to look into his eyes. Dilated pupils gave him away. He was just as turned on as me. I forced my head down to glance at his trousers; they looked so much tighter than before and made me think of how much I wanted to just sit on his lap and grind against him, right here and now.
Rafe forced my head back up, his face coming closer to mine. His lips were mere inches away from touching mine. He breathed out a low moan that sent shivers down my spine. His lips softly touched mine, just a ghost of a kiss, and he whispered to me approvingly, “Good fucking girl”.
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rookthorne · 1 year
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𝐍𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐲 & 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐞 | 𝐉.𝐁.𝐁
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Pairing // Biker!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Word Count // 2.4k Warnings // Swearing, pet names, smut (oral f receiving, fingering, unprotected piv sex, heavy praise kink) Author's Note // All I gotta say is oops. not really.
B&B Masterlist | Merry Fuckin' Christmas Masterlist
Presents took on many shapes and forms, this one, however, was likely to be your favourite. 
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𝑶𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒉 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔, 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒈𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆; 𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒕, 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒓, 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔, 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒔, 𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑷𝒊𝒙𝒊𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔, 𝒔𝒊𝒙 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔, 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒔, 𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔, 𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒆𝒏 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒐𝒘𝒔.
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Christmas Eve morning started slow. After Bucky’s over-indulgence the night before, it wasn’t a shock that he still lay in bed fast asleep, snoring his head off, at eleven in the morning. 
It didn’t stop you from organising the numerous presents you had picked out for your family, though. 
During one of your many trips to the store, you had covertly picked out different coloured ribbon and wrapping paper. Each of them had their own colour: Bucky was gold, Steve was black, Sam was red, Peter was blue, Nat was green, and Carol was white. 
The presents, all eleven of them and wrapped to the best of your ability, were by your knees as you worked cross legged on the floor through Bucky’s gifts, the ribbon shaping perfectly to fit around the angles and curves of each one. It was a miracle that you had kept your mouth shut on what you had gotten him, but you knew the surprise on his face once he unwrapped it would be worth every single agonising moment of your silence. 
The Santa Clause was playing softly in the background while you worked, huffs of annoyance only escaping when a piece of tape tangled itself around your fingers. “Dammit,” you muttered, shaking your hand furiously to dislodge the strip of tape. “Get off.”
So focused on your task, you hadn’t noticed Bucky standing in the doorway, grey sweatpants hanging loosely from his hips and his tattooed chest on full display. “Need help, doll?”
The low timbre and rasp of Bucky’s voice made you freeze, eyes wide as you met his gaze. “N-no,” you stuttered, shy all of a sudden when he strode forward to peer at what you were doing, his frame looming over you. “I’m fine, just this damn tape, is all.”
Bucky nodded once and trudged over to the kitchen for coffee, his sleepy gait doing wonders for your view. 
“How’d you sleep?” you asked, carefully pushing Bucky’s presents under the coffee table and out of sight, and replacing it with one of Steve’s. 
“Fantastic,” Bucky deadpanned, coming into view with a mug of steaming coffee. You chuckled and pulled over Steve’s presents while Bucky sat down on the couch behind you, his knees either side of your shoulders. “How’d my girl sleep, huh?”
“Fine, once you stopped snoring.”
Bucky laughed and rested a hand on your shoulder while you fiddled with the black ribbon, determinedly ignoring the heat from his palm and the way your mind lit up with how that hand would feel elsewhere. Get it together, you thought hastily. 
“What’re you watchin’?” Bucky asked around a yawn, shifting his cup until it rested by his knee on the couch.
“The Santa Clause.” The ribbon curled perfectly against the scissors and you finished with a flourish. “I used to watch it as a kid, I always wanted to be Judy.” You felt Bucky shift on the couch behind you. “Anyone who can make hot chocolate that good…”
Bucky reached over your shoulder and placed his mug on the coffee table. “You make pretty good hot chocolate.”
His sudden proximity was overwhelming and you felt your hands begin to tremble slightly. What the hell was going on?
The movie played quietly in the background as Bucky sat back, his hand still on your shoulder while the other rested on his thigh. “What are we doin’ today?” 
“Wrapping-” You cleared your throat, shocked at the pitch of your voice and the way Bucky squeezed your shoulder in response. Oh God. “Wrapping presents for tomorrow, and then, uh-”
Bucky’s hand wandered from your shoulder up to the side of your neck, and it made your breath hitch. “Anythin’ else?” He asked, his hand moving to rest against the front of your throat so he could tip your head back with his thumb. The cold bite of his rings made you whimper quietly while you stared up and into his face, shadowed by his hair and the flashes of light from the TV. “I might be mistaken, but I’m sure there’s a tradition or some shit that says you can open one present on Christmas Eve.”
Time stood still, frozen by the intensity of his stare. In your silence, Bucky’s hand wandered lower, coming to rest just above your breasts. Tease. “You gonna answer me, sweetheart?”
“Y-Yeah, there is something like that-”
“Good,” Bucky murmured, interrupting you. A coy smirk grew on his lips, his gaze darting between your eyes, lips, and your chest that unfortunately betrayed just how turned on you were with the rapid rise and fall of your breathing. “Are you gonna be good for me, lemme give you my present?”
What in the hell had happened to him? you wondered, casting the thought aside with haste. You didn’t care, you wanted this. Needed this. 
“Yes.”
“Atta girl,” Bucky said, sitting back and letting you turn around to finally face him. He wasn’t in any better shape; chest heaving slightly and he kept (infuriatingly) biting his bottom lip, soothing it with the tip of his tongue. “C’mere.”
You met Bucky halfway in a kiss that exuded hunger, need, a desperation that was unmatched. When you pulled away gasping for breath, Bucky spoke, his voice hoarse with restraint. “Bed, now.”
In the flurry of limbs and clothes being torn and ripped away, you weren’t sure how you ended up on your back with your head on the soft pillows, and Bucky nestled between your thighs - attacking your clit with his tongue and with such ferocity it was like he was a man starved. The rings you loved were cold against your walls when Bucky pumped three of his fingers in and out, in and out, the salacious sounds only adding to the litany of moans and cries. 
You whined when Bucky pulled his tongue away and he shushed you, a look of pure concentration on his flushed face. “Hold on, sweetheart, lemme find-” 
Your body went taught like a bow and you gasped sharply, the incessant pressure of Bucky’s fingers rubbing that one spot made you lightheaded. “Is that it, baby?” Bucky asked, a shit-eating grin splitting his features and making his slick soaked chin shine in the lamplight.
“Don’t stop,” you breathed, fisting the sheet with one hand and reaching desperately for him with the other. “Please, don’t stop, Bucky, please.”
“I asked you a question, sweet thing.” He stopped moving his fingers and you whined loudly, shifting your hips to try and persuade him to do something, anything. “Answer me and you’ll get what you want.”
“Yes, yes, it-” A loud cry tore from your lips before you could finish. Bucky was finally moving his fingers, and if you weren’t mistaken, with a lot more intensity than before. “Holy shit!”
“Good girl, that’s my girl,” Bucky said lowly, smiling up at you before he dove back in to suck your clit, alternating with soft kitten licks to drive you further to the edge. 
The simultaneous assault from his tongue and fingers was overwhelming, and if it weren’t for the large hand on your hip to keep you steady, you could have sworn you were floating. “Buck, Bucky, baby,” you breathed, your hand fisting his hair and tugging slightly, making him groan. “Oh, please!”
“Please what, doll?” Bucky asked, not slowing his fingers as he pulled his face away. 
“I-I’m gonna-”
Bucky smirked, shifting impossibly closer to you. “And since you’re bein’ such a good girl for me, you’re goin’ to.”
You barely had a second to process what he said before he resumed with an intensity you almost couldn’t bear. 
“Bucky! Don’t stop!” The tension in your body snapped and shattered after a harsh suck from his mouth, leaving you in delirium as you came down from an impossible high. Your arms were lax at your sides while your chest heaved, and you heard Bucky chuckle darkly, the bed shifting and creaking as he moved to crawl on top of you. 
“You did so good for me, baby girl. So fuckin’ pretty when you cum.” You could only moan piteously in response, your mind still in the clouds as you turned your head to look up at him. “Already all fucked out?”
Bucky’s dick pressed against your hip and you smirked. “Like hell I am.” You reached down between your bodies and grasped his shaft gently, lazily running your thumb up and down the underside, along the thickest vein. Bucky’s breath hitched and he lifted himself up on his elbows to watch. “Fuck me, Sergeant,” you ordered, tone authoritative, exactly how you knew he wouldn’t be able to resist. 
To your absolute joy, Bucky looked up at you with widened eyes, his lips parted in shock. “Oh, fuck,” Bucky whined, overtaken with the need to be closer. 
He surged forward and kissed you, stealing your breath as he moved his arms under your shoulders for better leverage. To urge him along, you spread your legs further and tilted your hips up - when he moved, the underside of his dick brushed against your clit making you both gasp. “Hurry up,” you demanded, the authority in your tone lost when your voice shook. 
“Patience, patience,” he whispered, shuffling around until the head of his cock rested against your entrance. “You ready, sweetheart?”
Nodding vehemently, you grasped his biceps to ground yourself and Bucky slowly pushed forward. Every inch burned with the stretch but you wrapped your ankles around his ass, pulling him in to the hilt. “Fuck!” Bucky exclaimed, his hands shifting on the sheets by your shoulders to brace himself and gain a semblance of control.
You giggled as he stared at you, eyes blown and narrow with contempt. “I wanted to take this slow, goddammit, baby.” He began to thrust, slowly and shallowly, as though to prove his point. 
“No, no, please,” you muttered, trembling from how sensitive you still were. “Fuck me, please, baby, plea-”
“Like this?” Bucky grinned, thrusting hard into you, pulling a thin wail from your lips before you could stop it. 
“Yes!”
“Okay,” Bucky breathed, lowering himself so his chest was against yours, your sensitive peaks rubbing against his tattooed skin as your chest heaved. You moaned while he kept up with the shallow thrusts, the sound of skin slapping and the wet slide of his dick into you made him smirk determinedly, the furrow in his brows while he concentrated made your head spin. His hot breath fanned the side of your neck as he placed open mouthed kisses there, all the way up from your collarbone to your ear where he whispered, “Hold on then, sweetheart.”
If there was a heaven, a set of pearly gates to welcome you, they would be nowhere near as indescribable as this. You could hear Bucky’s grunts and gasps for breath in your ear, the loud creak of the bed as it rocked, and the dull thump of the headboard as it collided with the wall. 
So soon after your first climax, a second was riding the coattails, spurred on by Bucky’s praises. “You’re takin’ me so well, doll, look,” he panted. “You feel so fuckin’ good, baby.”
Bucky suddenly shifted his weight slightly and you cried out. “Jus’ like that, baby! Oh, God-” you moaned, the plea leaving your lips before you could make sense of the words, of what you wanted - especially when he angled his hips that way. “Please!”
“‘M not God, sweetheart,” Bucky grunted, his head tucked into the crook of your neck as he fucked you into the mattress. “But close.”
“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you begged, your nails leaving red scratches down Bucky’s back, making him shiver. 
“You’re close, huh? I can feel it, fuck,” Bucky breathed, the steady pace becoming far too much for you to bear. “You’re squeezin’ me, sweetheart.”
You nodded, desperately clutching at his shoulders when his grip tightened to pull you closer, leaving no room between your bodies. “Let go, sweetheart,” Bucky whispered in your ear. “Be a good girl for me and cum, c’mon, I’ve got you.”
A scream tore from your throat as you came, unable to form words as you shook and pulsed around Bucky who valiantly tried to keep a semblance of rhythm. The force of your orgasm almost pushed him out but he persevered, peppering your jaw with more open-mouthed kisses. “Good girl, good girl, that’s it,” he cooed, “so good for me, fuck.”
Even through your blinding pleasure you felt Bucky tense, his cock twitching and on the verge of letting go. “Bucky, baby,” you breathed, pulling him down by his shoulders so you could pepper his neck with kisses. “Cum for me, please, I wan’ it so bad.”
“Oh, fuck, fuck,” Bucky babbled, resting his forehead against your shoulder as his hips began to stutter. “You’re gonna take it, aren’t you,” he huffed, his breath hot on your shoulder, “yeah, you are, ‘cos you’re gonna be good for me.” You moaned loudly, rocking with his thrusts and meeting them in earnest. “‘Cos you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” 
“Fuck, Bucky! Yes, yes,” you gasped. You needed him to cum. “Cum for me, c’mon, Sergeant, fill me up,” you urged, smirking when Bucky groaned loudly, entirely lost in you. “Please!”
Your words were the catalyst that tipped Bucky over the edge, and he came with a choked shout, his hips pistoning haphazardly as he pumped you full. He started to tremble with the effort of holding himself up, so you pushed him to the side gently, interweaving your legs so he could stay inside you through the aftershocks. 
The time passed slowly while you lay next to one another, and when Bucky finally opened his eyes, your breath caught from the amount of love and adoration in his gaze. You could only smile softly. “You okay?”
“‘M fine,” Bucky mumbled, bringing a hand to cup your cheek. “Jus’ love you so much.”
“You big softie,” you said and Bucky sighed, rolling his eyes playfully. You moved your head to kiss his palm. “I love you more.”
A moment passed in peace, when suddenly Bucky’s expression brightened and he chuckled. Confused, you traced a tattoo on his collarbone and said, “What?”
“The presents,” Bucky sniggered, gesturing vaguely towards the living room. “You didn’t finish ‘em.”
“Well, I got my present. The others can wait.”
Bucky laughed and pulled you closer, hugging you tightly to his chest. “That’s the spirit.”
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bettyfrommars · 4 months
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I'm on Fire
biker!eddie x fem!reader
Part 16: All Along the Watchtower
series masterlist playlist
18+ONLY
There is a lot of healing in this chapter, some smut and allusions to smut, alcohol consumption, lots of love, but also some new characters drop into the scene and there will be some angst at the end. If you have come this far in the story, you know what to expect. There will be song lyrics from the band Tool. Steve with an OC character. Mention of healing wounds, a dead body, chemo treatments, and plenty of unprotected sex.
word count: 6.8k
a/n: I mentioned in a post the other day that, instead of 2 final chapters of 10-11k, that I'd be splitting them up and doing four more posts with less words, so there will be several more parts to come. I know it's been almost 2 months since the last chapter, but I'm looking forward to giving this most of my attention for the rest of the year. I have so much love for those of you who are still with me.
"There must be some kind of way outta here Said the joker to the thief There's too much confusion I can't get no relief..."
-- Jimi Hendrix, All Along the Watchtower
The aftermath of everything that conspired in the parking lot that night was a whirlwind.
There were way too many witnesses for the cops not to get involved, but there was also an underlying mutual respect for an outlaw level of revenge justice when someone hurts one of your own.  When bystanders and club members were questioned as to who made the final killshot, there was a contagious memory loss that made everyone shrug and shake their heads. 
Collectively, no one saw anything.
Everyone saw Wayne, but also—no they did not.
Wayne was going through chemo treatments and hadn’t been an active member of the club for years; no one in law enforcement would ever expect him to be involved, and everyone silently agreed to keep it that way. 
Charlene caught a stray bullet in the shoulder, and even lied straight-faced to the police about what had happened.  She waited for someone to blame her, somehow, for Craig’s death, but no one pointed fingers, they all just acted like their memories had been erased.  Inside the ambulance on the gurney, she caught Steve looking across the parking lot at her just before the EMT’s shut the doors.  His expression remained unresponsive, but he stood and watched the vehicle leave the premises before turning to limp over to Astrid’s truck.
Steve was not in great shape, either, and he almost fell twice when he first tried to stand.  Robin caught him on the second stumble and had him brace his arm around her shoulders.  The EMT’s tried to get Steve to the hospital, but he refused.  Partially because he hated hospitals, and also because there’s no way he could afford a meat wagon escort, let alone whatever bill he racked up while in their care.  A handful of ibuprofen, a bag of frozen peas, and some patched together magic from Astrid’s medical bag would have to do.  
Before the medics arrived, Eddie grabbed his leather jacket out of one of the saddlebags on his bike and had it wrapped around your shoulders as he pinned you close to him with both arms, as tight as he could without hurting you.  “Baby baby baby I’m here, I’m here…never gonna let you go…” he hushed it over and over, trying to calm himself as much as you.  You found his eyes were wet when he tipped your chin up gently with his finger, pressing kisses across your skin that was sprinkled with dried blood.  He parted your mouth with his tongue, just slightly, letting it graze your top lip.  His voice trembled when he said he loved you before sealing the words with another soft kiss.  
Still observing from the steps of the hotel, Melanie watched the interaction between you and Eddie, and the realization that he would never be hers ever again finally sank in, hitting the pit of her stomach like a lead weight.
Eddie sat next to you on the back of Hopper’s Bronco and held your hand while you told the Chief about your abduction.  Anger curled Eddie’s lip when you recited the horrific events, and his eyes narrowed on Craig getting zipped into a body bag, wishing it were possible to kill someone for a second time.  
You sprained your ankle, and had a few surface cuts and bruises, but most of your trauma was internal.  You told Eddie you were fine, but he wouldn’t rest until the EMT’s checked you out.
Eddie got the shower temperature at your place just right before helping you in with him so that he could gently wash the blood from your face and shampoo your hair.  He took his time soaping every part of you; even had you put all of your weight on him so he could clean your feet with meticulous precision, being extra careful with your bad ankle.  He wanted every trace of Craig and all that had happened to be washed away.  You swept his wet hair back from his face as he stood to full height, and wrapped your arms around his neck to bring his forehead to yours.  
Things got slippery and before you knew it, you were moving Eddie’s hand down between your legs as the steam rose up around you.  He didn’t think you’d be ready, not after such a traumatic experience, but then he could feel the slick that had nothing to do with shower water.  He ran his big, calloused fingers through your folds, and then worked that button at the top of your slit until it hardened under his fingertips.
You clung to him, letting go of erotic sighs between deep, sensual kisses that felt like you needed each other’s oxygen to survive.  “I’ve missed you so much,” you said into the crook of his neck, grabbing the hard curve of his cock to pump at the tip.
“Let me take care of you, baby,” he hushed, dipping two of his fingers inside to give your muscles something to clench around.  
A few deep thrusts and then he spun you around, holding you tight so that you wouldn’t slip.  The fingers of one hand found your clit again, rolling in circles there, while his other hand came up to cup your breast and pluck at your nipple.  You shuddered and tilted your head back so he could suck and nibble at your throat.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured.  “I’m going to spend the rest of my life making you mine.”
You writhed in his arms, reaching back to hold his head, while his fingers kept pace and your cunt fluttered.  You could feel your knees giving way.
“That’s right, my baby, give it all to me.”
“Fuck!” One more whimper and the orgasm shattered you, making you tremble and sink against him.  The thought never occurred to  you that you would fall because he had you locked so tight in his embrace.
His hard length rested between your asscheeks, and you turned around to take it into your hand and face him.  He held your chin and found your mouth again, pitching his hips into your hand until ropes of his cum were shooting against your leg and into the tub.  You took the head of his cock and rubbed it along your slit to spread his seed there, and then took your fingers into  your mouth and sucked them clean. Eddie groaned at the sight, grabbing your face again to kiss you long and hard.
The rest of the sex that night was slow and tender, full of breathy words of devotion as your bodies met and became one.  Fingers laced, and your legs wrapped around him. Eddie rolled his hips so that you could feel every inch of him inside of you, and you matched his movements, watching his eyes flutter before they opened to meet yours again, lips grazing.  For a moment, it was hard to tell where he ended and you began, and you wanted to stay like that forever.
Even though Craig was gone, Eddie was still reluctant to leave you, and he came by several times a day while he was working the tow truck.  He brought you soup from the diner, and picked up a potted plant, because he didn’t want you to have to watch flowers die in a vase.  He even got special tuna treats for Charlie and stopped off to rent videos for you to watch with you on the couch after he showered and returned from his place.  
Besides the time it took to talk to Katie and let her know what happened before she went over to Robin’s, Eddie was the only person you interacted with for the week before it was time to go back to work.  You tried to return sooner, but Shana refused.  You needed the loud music and the crowds of the Velvet Hammer, they were such a welcome distraction from your thoughts.  
It was a part of Eddie’s routine to buy groceries for Wayne every so often, now that he didn’t have as much energy because of chemo, much like Wayne used to do for him back when he was a kid, and his dad would disappear for months at a time.  You pulled together the ingredients for one of your grandmother’s favorite casserole dishes and made dinner for them both at the trailer one night, sipping on wine, and listening to your boyfriend and his uncle reminisce on stories from back in the day. 
You were taking everyone’s dishes to the sink when you heard Wayne say to Eddie, “that one is a keeper,” and it made your eyes water, for whatever reason.  Maybe because you know how much his uncle’s opinion meant to him.
—----
Steve had to be back at work the same night as you, and an hour before, Astrid straddled his lap in one of her silk robes to apply some ointment on his face while he ran his scarred hands up and down her bare thighs.  Her skin was soft and smelled of cocoa butter, and her long, curly hair draped over their shoulders like a curtain to keep them safe.  
“Don’t punch anyone tonight, okay?” She whispered, scooping hair behind his ear as she tended to the ugly gash on his cheek under the ugly yellow coloring around his eye. “Your fingers need a chance to heal.” 
Steve had been at her place on and off since the incident.  He’d stay the night, and then be up before the crack of dawn to be back at the house when Oliver woke up.  For the first time ever, he canceled a few tattoo appointments so that he could get the rest that the girls had been begging him to take.  He hated not having something to do; it made him bounce his knee and grind his teeth so that the muscles in his jaw bulged.
Steve worked a piece of gum inside his mouth and took in Astrid’s face from under hooded eyes, scooting her hips flush to his body, digging his fingers into the meat of her thighs.  “Why don’t you come by and see me tonight? I’ll buy you a drink. Maybe I’ll put you on the sink in the bathroom and have some fun like old times.”
One side of her full mouth lifted in a grin.  “Tempting,” she leaned in to touch her nose to his. “But I think I might sit this one out.”
“You can sit it out on my face, sugar,” he brought the bright green gum between his front teeth and held it there until she took the chewed piece into her own mouth.
“We’ll see,” and then she slid off of him, resisting his tug on her arm to pull her back down.
He rolled his head along the back of the couch, watching her walk behind him.  “Can I at least have my gum back?”
“No,” she answered flatly, disappearing into the kitchen.  
—-----
You and Eddie rolled up to the Velvet Hammer just after Steve, and he was finishing a smoke, still straddling his bike in the parking lot when he offered you a raised eyebrow and a two-finger wave.  Eddie slid into the spot next to him, facing the red brick exterior, and shut the engine off, planting his feet on either side to keep the beast steady.
“What is this? Bring your old man to work day?” Steve snaked his tongue out over his bottom lip, exhaling smoke from his nose. He had his sunglasses pushed up on his head, squinting against the glow of the sunset, one arm crossed over his chest. 
You giggled to yourself while you dismounted, pulling your leg through to avoid the sissy bar that had been at your back. You were used to Steve and his banter.  If he was teasing you, it meant he cared about you; it was a bit of a rite of passage.  He’d never admit it out loud, but you were special to him now—you were family, and he would look after you like he looked after his own. 
“Well,” Eddie took his helmet off and tucked some hair behind his ear, giving his friend a pointed look.  “I hear that the security here really sucks.”
“I told him he didn’t have to babysit me tonight,” you piped up, adjusting the backpack on your shoulder that had all of your work clothes inside. Eddie curled his fingers at you, asking for your helmet, so you passed it to him.  “But, what can I say? He’s growing on me,” and then you pressed up against his chest, making him puff air out of his nose at the sudden contact, and you kissed the side of his neck. 
“I’ll grow for you sweetheart, if you keep it up,” he mumbled.
Steve snorted and threw the butt of his smoke to the pavement.  A wave of sudden melancholy washed over him at the sight of the two of you.  
He’d been battling with himself the past few days, fighting the urge to call Charlene, to make sure she was okay, even though he hated her guts for what she’d tried to do to his family and everyone else.  There was a deep pit of loneliness in her, and when he’d stared into the void, the void had stared back.  He recognized a part of himself in her, like a dark foreshadowing for his life 15 years down the road.  A life of jumping from partner to partner, trying to gather every crumb of attention because he refused to let one person love him.  He told himself that Robin and Oliver were all he needed, but one day Robin would have her own life with a partner, perhaps with Katie, and Oliver would move out and become his own person.  He thought about Astrid, and how his mere presence in her life held her back from finding someone who could commit to her and give her the comfortable life she deserved.
“See you inside, freaks,” Steve pulled his sunglasses down over his eyes and favored his right leg with a hitch and a hop on his way to the building, making his wallet chain bounce out to the side.  
“Should he be riding his motorcycle with that bad leg?” You asked with your mouth on the leather of Eddie’s shoulder.
“Probably not,” Eddie breathed, watching his friend go.  “But you can’t tell Steve shit.”
Eddie escorted you to the back door in the alley and waited for you to be inside before he went around to the front to take the bar entrance.  He didn’t plan to stay the whole night, he’d leave for a bit in the middle of your shift and go do some work a the shop, but the fear of losing you—as he had so many people in his life—was still lingering like barbs in his heart, and he only hoped you didn’t get tired of him being around all the time.  
In the narrow locker room, you shared a space with Jackie who was also getting ready for her shift. She hugged you violently, and it startled you, because she was not prone to physical displays of affection.  
“Bitch, you had me scared to death,” she gushed.  “I almost puked from relief when they said you were okay.”
She had her heels on and her already tall, voluptuous frame towered over you.  “I missed you too, hooker,” you gave a lopsided grin once she stepped back to look at your face, noting the healing cuts over your lip and eyebrow.  “You think my battle scars will milk some extra tips out of people tonight?”
The comment made Jackie scoff a laugh, but her eyes were glossy with emotion, giving a few light squeezes to your shoulders.  “You sure you’re good to work tonight? I know Shana would let me cover for you.”
You heaved a long sigh and clanked the metal of your locker open.  “The last thing I need is to be at home with my wheels spinning for another night.” Everyone was treating you like glass, and all you wanted was to feel normal again.
Even though you were relieved that the terror that Craig had put you through in your life was finally over, you mourned his death in your own way.  He had a mother and a sister out there somewhere who loved him very much and would be devastated by his passing.  You’d also never watched someone get shot and killed right in front of you before, and you hoped that you never had to see such a thing again.  
Jackie adjusted her red and black Velvet Hammer cap sleeve tee that was tucked into her leather miniskirt, and moved over to apply her maroon lipstick in the mirror, making her mouth into an O shape. The music from the main room was loud when someone opened the hallway door to head over to the kitchen.  “That guy John was here asking about you the other day.  Remember the big tipper who wanted to be your sugar daddy?”
“I think so,” You said it absently, as if you weren’t sure, pulling your tiny red shorts up your legs.  
“He came in alone, sat at the bar for a drink, and I overheard him asking about you, if you were okay,” she unzipped her purse and dug through it.  “I guess he heard about what happened.”
Yes, you imagined that he had heard about what happened. You wondered how much Charlene had told him.    
Jackie punched her beige time card into the machine on the wall and you followed suit, deep in thought over why John was trying to track you down at the Hammer instead of calling you on the phone.  
“Honestly, I’ve missed the fuck out of you,” Jackie said over her shoulder, pulling open the hallway door to the sea of cigarette smoke and the song Wave of Mutilation by The Pixies.  “The new girl gets on my nerves.”
You barely had time to ask who the new girl was before a familiar face framed by a platinum blonde bob stood in your path wearing a matching shirt with a tray full of what looked like Jägermeister shots.  
It was Erika.
“Oh, you must be the new girl,” you were a bit flustered, but on your list of worries, she was very low.  You could tell she was nervous to see you, and wobbled the tray, chewing her gum nervously.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she said in a rush. “That I got a job here, I mean.  My sister is friends with Shana and I really needed the money because—-”
You shook your head and gave her a genuine smile that harbored no animosity.  “Of course I don’t mind,” you shuffled around her to get to the bar, thinking about how she seemed a bit afraid of you, and there was no need to be. “Did you say hi to Eddie? He’s here.” You reached around to tie a short apron with pockets around your hips. 
Her mouth gaped like a dying fish a few times. “Well, I, no…not yet…I mean, I won’t, if you don’t want me to.”
“I don’t mind,” you glanced up and caught Eddie’s eye at the bar.  You thought about all of the obstacles, all of the crap life had tried to throw your way to tear the two of you apart, and you’d both weathered the storm to find you were closer than ever.  You trusted Eddie with your life, and you knew that he only had eyes for you—he proved it to you every day.  
“I wanted you to know that what you did the other night was really badass,” Erika leaned in, eyes sparkling when they met yours.  And there it was, an understanding, a mutual truce, an unlikely friendship broadening on the horizon. 
Well, a friendship was unlikely, but a truce, at least.  
You didn’t know how to take the compliment, but you thanked her, and told her that you liked her earrings, and then you winked at Eddie before heading over to check on your first table.  He was at the bar having a Coke and talking to Thumper, who was also a patron that evening, and you could see that he was nodding, pretending to hear what his friend was saying, but all the while, his attention kept shifting to you.  
It was one of the last warm nights before the fall weather hit, and so Steve was sitting on his stool out on the pavement, propping the door open with the weight of his back.  He surprised himself by realizing he wasn’t in a flirtatious mood.  A few hotties who smelled like heaven were basically ready to gobble him up if he let them, but he barely gave their ID’s a glance and waved them through.  
He had a thick rubber band from the cash register that he was playing with, stretching it wide with his thumbs. Caught up in one of his daydreams, the rubber band accidentally shot out and almost nailed the person who was stepping up onto the sidewalk.
Astrid ducked just in time for it to zing through her hair instead of nailing her cheek.  
Steve experienced a bolt of recognition a second too late and was on his feet, almost knocking the stool over.  “Shit, baby, I’m sorry,” but then she started laughing, and they were both smiling when they kissed, teeth knocking together. 
She took two steps back so that his eyes could drink her in; the dark maroon dress with a slit up the thigh and generous scoop neck, it was one of her many handmade pieces to make room for her ample hips and hourglass shape.  Instead of a shawl, she had on a jean jacket this time, fingers and ears adorned in subtle gold jewelry.  
He pushed some thick curls away from her face and planted his lips on her forehead as he spoke.  “I missed you.”
“You just saw me a few hours ago,” she tilted her head back to lock her dark eyes onto his. “I came to make sure you behave yourself.”  
His smile was rueful—dangerous, even. He wiped his tongue over the point of his gold tooth. “You can’t come here in a dress like that and expect me to behave, sweetheart.”
A group of partiers went to try and stumble through the door, but Steve was quick to shove his hand against the doorframe, blocking them with his tattooed arm.  “Need to see ID’s first,” his tone was suddenly that of gruff, tough bouncer Steve, and not the sweet little loverboy from a few seconds ago. 
Once he’d given them all a stern look, he hurried back to grab for Astrid’s hands again, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles. “What’s your poison tonight darlin’? Just tell Shana to put it on my tab.”
She wasn’t about to let Steve pay for her drinks, but she nodded.  He tucked a padded stool from the bar just inside the door close to him while she was ordering her gin and tonic, giving Eddie a shoulder squeeze as she waited.  When she looked over at Steve again, he patted the seat a few times eagerly so that she would know where to go. 
—-------
A while later, as the bar filled up, Eddie was moving his head to the beat of the Muddy Waters tune “I’m your hoochie coochie man” when you came over to give him a back scratch and tuck his hair so you could smooch his ear.  The 1958 film The Crawling Eye was playing on the screen above the bar.
“What do you say? Can I be your hoochie coochie man, babe?” he muttered.  And then, dropping his gaze to his drink he added softly: “My mom loved Muddy Waters.”
One of the many layers you had yet to peel back on the onion of Eddie Munson was his relationship, or lack thereof, with his mother.  You always got the feeling that he didn’t want to talk about it, but more and more, you could feel him opening up on the subject and referencing her, wanting to finally let you know more about that facet of his life. From Robin you knew that she passed away when he was young, but that was the extent of it.
“Your mom had good taste,” you tipped his chin so that he could see your sincerity.  “I wish I could’ve met her.”
“Me too,” he blinked his glossy chocolate eyes a few times and took a hard gulp. “I think I might head over to the garage for a couple hours, but I’ll be back to pick you up.” 
“You should stay,” Shana, sporting a freshly shaved head and a new tattoo just above her ear, slapped the flat of her hand on the wood of the bar in front of him to get his attention, and then she gestured to the stage.  “Divine Filth is playing tonight.”
You could tell that finding out that one of the local bands, Divine Filth, was playing at the Hammer was a welcome surprise for Eddie when you saw his face light up.  They were another metal/rock band from a few towns over, you found out, and one of his friends was the lead singer. They’d played dozens of shows with Corroded Coffin over the years, and Eddie used to play lead on a few songs with them.  
“They just got back from Pedal to the Metal,” Shana continued.  Even you knew that Pedal to the Metal was a huge 3-day rock festival that happened every year up near Chicago, and even Eddie’s band had played there once. 
You saw that Eddie was contemplating the news, and weighing his options, gnawing on his bottom lip.  You decided to slide down closer, resting your elbow on the bar.  “Can’t whatever you have to do at the garage wait? Or maybe one of the guys can handle it? I’d love for  you to stay.”
His eyes snapped to yours, and his response was quick.  “Yeah, I mean, I’ll stay if you want me to.”
That was all he ever wanted, for you to tell him what you needed.  For you to say that you needed him.  
You put your forehead to his, fingers twirling in the baby hairs at his neckline. “Stay and be my hoochie coochie man.”
He mouthed a few words to the song against your lips before sinking in for a kiss.
Then, he pushed his soda aside and ordered a beer.  Thumper caught wind that he suddenly had a drinking buddy and gave the signal for two shots of “their finest”.  
—-----
Meanwhile, at the other end of town, Katie was at Robin’s again. She’d been staying there every night since it all happened.  Partly to give you and Eddie some space, but also, on her trip, she’d realized that she didn’t want to be away from her girlfriend any longer than she had to.
She was in love, like head over heels, for the first time in her adult life.
Once Oliver was fast asleep in his bedroom, the two were hustling to take their clothes off, gushing words of love in breathy whispers in the dark, needing to be as close together as possible. Robin was three fingers deep when Katie admitted that she’d never loved anyone this much before, and it made Robin go still, to ask her if she meant it, and to tell her she felt the same.
After their orgasms, Robin was straddling Katie’s lap, tasting her own release on her girlfriend’s tongue, when she decided to finally open up about what had been on her mind lately.
She’d meant to work it into conversation, but instead, she blurted it: “Do you want to move in here? With me…with us?” Her mouth dried up after she asked it, wondering if it was too soon, too ridiculous.  She swallowed hard, making a click noise in her throat. “I talked to Steve about it.  I haven’t talked to Oliver yet, but I will.”
Katie bucked her hips up so that their swollen lips brushed together, still dripping with cum.  She was quiet as she let the idea sink in.
Robin tucked some hair behind her ear and glanced down, reading her silence wrong. “I know it’s not a huge house, and we only have the one bathroom, and I get that it’s not very glamorous to shack up with a woman who already has a kid and a life partner.  But I think that I, I think that we, could—”
“You know I’m not the glamorous type,” the other woman interrupted, catching Robin’s chin to run her thumb along her bottom lip. She locked eyes with her. “We could always get a bigger house one day, down the road, all of us. I’m not worried about that.”
“So, you’ll think about it down the road, maybe?” 
“Robs, I don’t want to spend another night without you in my bed.”
“You don’t?” She was surprised, but also, not sure if she’d answered her yet or not.  
Other than her brother Dan who lived across the country, and a mother she’d never been close with, Katie had rarely known the comforts of family, but she had found what she’d always been missing within the cleave of the Harrington-Buckley clan.  It wasn’t a living situation that would suit everyone, but the idea of making a life in that corner of the world had her insides glowing.  She’d need to discuss it with you, and give you plenty of notice if you were okay with it.  The way things were going with you and Eddie, Katie had a good feeling that the two of you were considering the same merging of households, anyway.  
“I’d understand if you didn’t want to.  I know this is an unconventional situation, and I wouldn’t blame you for—”
Katie cut her off and put her hands on either side of Robin’s face. Her words bubbled in her chest, a smile soft on her lips. The “yes” she spoke was followed by a nudge of the nose, a suck on her bottom lip, and then she was repeating it over and over as Robin pushed her to the bed and got on top of her.  
—--------
You were able to catch the way Eddie’s demeanor softened once he started to relax and ease into the evening. He was laughing at Thumper’s theatrics, chuckling so hard, the apples of his cheeks turned pink.  Steve led Astrid by the hand to one of the only two bathrooms at one point, and the next thing you knew, there was a line of 3 or 4 people waiting to use it, so you had to give the door a polite knock, loud enough to be heard over the Jimi Hendrix song that was playing.
Astrid came out adjusting her dress, with no lipstick on, and Steve followed, wiping his mouth suspiciously, and palming the bulge in his jeans.  He chuckled at the way your head was cocked, and mumbled a cheeky, “I was on my break,” before heading back to his stool.  
When the members of Divine Filth showed up from the back entrance with their instruments, you could tell who the lead singer was immediately; she had a distinct presence.  She was small but poised, hair dyed black with one side of her head shaved, and the other side long down to her shoulders.  She had on leather pants and a ripped shirt cropped at her waist, with tattoos on her biceps.
She looked around the room, taking stock of the place as the other members went to set up.  You were standing to full height after setting some drinks down at a table full of Hell’s Belles when you watched her spot Eddie.
She let out a squeal and headed over to him with a bounce in her step. Eddie sprang off of his stool to return her embrace, lifting her up off her feet in an enthusiastic hug.  The second her feet touched the ground again, Eddie was waving you over, wanting to introduce you.  
“This is my girl,” he pulled you flush to his side the second you were within arms reach.  “Baby, this is my friend Nancy, the lead singer of Divine Filth.”
Nancy Wheeler stuck her hand out for you to shake and told you that she’d already heard a lot about you.
“Yeah, from who?” Eddie was curious because it had been almost a year since he’d talked to Nancy.  
“Robin,” she said, and of course, Eddie should have known.  She shrugged, “we catch up every now and then. Steve gave me some new ink a few months ago.”
There was melancholy in her voice, and you’d find out later that Robin and Nancy had a brief thing once, back in high school, back when they were always in detention together for destroying school property.  Nancy was a pyro in her own right.  She had fond memories of letting Steve practice tattooing on both her and Robin in her parents basement while drinking beers they stole from the QuikMart.  
“Robin couldn’t make it out tonight,” Eddie let her know in a cautious tone, wondering if she’d had her hopes up.
“Oh I know, she told me,” she said in a rush.  “She’s with someone and she’s happy and I’m happy for her.” And if she wasn’t, I’d do something about it, she thought to herself.
You couldn’t tell if she meant every word, or if she was trying to convince herself as she spoke them.  
“So, big boy,” Nancy put a hand on her hip, wanting to change the subject, and raised an eyebrow at Eddie, clapping him on the arm.  “You going to grace us with your presence on stage tonight?”
Eddie immediately started shaking his head to decline, but you were quick to turn to him with those wide, hopeful eyes, and it made him pause.  “Maybe,” he mused, noting your intense interest, and then turned his attention back to Nancy.  “My girl has never seen me play before.”
“No shit?” Nancy was genuinely surprised, jaw going slack.  “Dude, your man kills it up there.  He’s got star power, and I wish he’d get his head out of his ass and come out to do more shows with us.”
“Yeah, well, there’s a little thing called running your own business, and I don’t recommend it,” Eddie grumbled, as one hand reached for the next beer Thumper was passing him and the other smoothed circles on your back.  
There were tables waiting, and more people coming in, so you excused yourself and snaked your arm out from around Eddie.  He took hold of the back of your neck and guided you back to kiss the side of your head one more time before you were out of reach again.  
There was one dancer shimmying down the pole to the song Stinkfist by Tool, and it was the last performance of the evening before Divine Filth started their set.  Nancy was up on the stage riser helping to situate things where she wanted them, and the tips were flowing into your pockets just as fast as patrons were knocking back shots.  The front door that had once been propped open by Steve’s body was shut now, locking the bar in a dim, red glow, billowing in a smog of nicotine fumes.  
“… Just not enough, I need more
Nothing seems to satisfy
I said, I don't want it, I just need it
To breathe, to feel, to know I'm alive…”
Astrid had gone home by then, and Thumper was casually watching the door as Steve made his way over to see Nancy, and every time the door opened, you took a deep breath of the fresh air, trying to clean out your lungs. This time, when you felt the gush of cool breeze flush your skin, you were on the way across the room with a drink order, and you absently looked up to see who was coming in.
“… Finger deep within the borderline
Show me that you love me and that we belong together
Relax, turn around and take my hand…”
You stopped in your tracks when you saw who it was, one foot paused in the air behind you, mid-stride.
There, silhouetted against the backdrop of the street, stood Charlene.
The black bodysuit she had on made her look like Sandy from Grease, but her shoulder was wrapped in a bandage, and standing next to her was a guy in a red shirt, jeans, a wallet chain, and a leather MC kutte with the insignia for Lucifer’s Own on it.  He was maybe 30, looked like a blonde version of Rob Lowe, and he had his elbow out for Charlene to hold onto.  
Now, you didn’t know all of the politics about biker etiquette, or any “turf” battles like they sang and danced about in musicals, but it was well known that the Hammer was a Coffin Kings bar, and you’d never seen another insignia step foot in the door, other than Hell’s Belles and Eastside Reapers, since you’d started working there. 
Thumper caught sight of the guy who had just come in the door and spun on his stool, about to stand up, but Eddie snatched his arm, and you were sure he stiffly told him to sit back down.  Eddie found your eyes over a few shoulders that were pressed together in the crowd, and you exchanged a weary look of disbelief.  
The blonde biker gave Thumper a feral grin, wiggling the tip of his tongue between his teeth.  Charlene seemed more reserved than normal, not as full of herself, and she was very preoccupied with searching the sea of bodies.  
You had a good feeling who she was looking for.  
You were glad that Erika was there to motion them over to a table that she had just cleaned off.  It was in the corner, further away from the bar.  
You were just about to go over to ask Eddie who Charlene was with when a customer blocked your path and gave you a multiple drink order out of the blue, and you had to tell them to give you a second while you caught your bearings.
Now you were trying to see where Steve was, to play interference, but it was too late.
“… I can help you change
Tired moments into pleasure
Say the word and we'll be
Well upon our way
Pain and comfort, deep within you
Till you will not want me any other way...”
You spun on your heel to find that Steve had already spotted the newcomers.  You watched the muscles in his face tense, standing with his fists balled at his sides for a few seconds, and then Eddie was there, in his face, pushing him back, trying to get him to keep his cool.
The blonde biker at Charlene’s table put his feet up on the seat next to him and lit a cigarette, seemingly without a care in the world.
“It’s not worth it, man,” Eddie grumbled to Steve, holding his hand on chest. “Let’s just have a good time tonight, forget about them.”
Steve’s eyes were locked in the distance, sunglasses now hooked onto the front of his shirt.  “What the fuck is she doing here with Billy Hargrove?”
“Who knows what kind of game she’s playing,” he moved to try and block Steve’s view of them.  “Listen, if he crosses a line, we’ll bounce him, otherwise we let it ride, got it? There’s too many eyes on us here tonight to cause a scene, especially after last week.”
In a strange turn of events, Shana, the manager, came out from behind the bar and went over to greet Charlene and her companion.  She shook both of their hands, and the two women appeared to know each other. 
“...Knuckle deep inside the borderline
This may hurt a little but it's something you'll get used to..."
“Hey,” you squished your way in between some people at the bar, and caught Shana’s attention when she returned.  “How do you know those two?”
Shana cracked open a few beer tops as she spoke.  “She’s some rich lady, I only met her yesterday.  Stephen, one of the owners, sold his share of the Hammer to her and moved to Florida literally in the middle of the night.”
“… I'll keep digging
Till I feel something
Elbow deep inside the borderline
Show me that you love me and that we belong together…”
You made a sour face, trying to understand what Shana was telling you, but then, realization dawned just as she was sharing the final bit of information with you:
“Charlene Gregson is part owner of the Velvet Hammer now.”
Part 17
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I love you all! I have some fun things planned for the few final chapters of this story, I'm even working on a holiday special💗 Your thoughtful commentary and reblogs always mean so much to me.
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