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whocaresstillthelouvre · 4 days

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Green

Chapter Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Chapter Summary: Jackson believes in a green future, which includes marijuana. You like to get high. Tonight, Joel joins you and you get to treat him like he treats you. Chapter Warnings: Smut, marijuana use, soft dom reader, sub Joel, m receiving oral, unprotected p in v, riding Joel's thick thigh, you bite Joel's stomach (because it has to be done), Joel watching himself masturbate in your mirror, Joel drinks water out of your hands. Words: 5,100 Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Series Summary: Life in Jackson is quite comfortable and simple for you. You love teaching your students and running your library, you love the comforts of living here, perfectly complacent with the company of your two cats, guitar, tattered CD book, and a few friends. You like comfortable and simple, though the feelings you feel whenever you see Joel Miller are quite the opposite. Once you meet him, it seems like he needs you in his life as much as you need him. Reader Background: Reader is in her 30's and comes from Colorado. No other physical descriptors besides her having long enough hair to put up. A/N: Happy 4/20! Wanted to give you another entry akin to Golden Walkway, a little peek into the future again of these two.

Masterlist Playlist

Times never change instead of hiding your illicit use from your parents, now you hide it from a teenager. Joel and you always going to your your house so you can get high, just in case Ellie needs something. Can’t be a bad influence.

“So you never really smoked much?” you ask as you pull the box of papers and weed out of the drawer before sitting down on your couch. You lean over your coffee table removing its contents and start to build your joint.

“Mm, never really was my thing, too risky if I got caught growing up in Texas during the Regan years. Had football eligibility to worry about ‘n then Sarah came, just never was the time for me.” Joel says as he leans back into your armchair his brown eyes intently watching your actions. You begin to crumble weed up and place it on your rolling paper.

“Ah, makes sense. It’s good for me when my nerves really get to me,” you begin to roll your joint, “helps kinda soften the harsh lines of reality a lot. Makes my body and my mind a little freer.”

You lick your cigarette closed and admire your handiwork, welcoming the anticipation of being with Joel while you’re stoned.

You grab a match, strike it against the box and spark your joint, rotating it in your mouth to light it up. Joel chuckles as you inhale the first hit.

“What’s so funny?” You ask in a cloud of your smoke as you exhale.

“Nothing. Maybe I should get high. Making me hard just watching you do this.”

“Oh yeah?” You sit back.

“Yeah, maybe I should start. Never was one for smoking though.”

“Hm, I can help. I can just blow the smoke into your mouth if you want to try it.” You lean forward wanting him to take you up on your offer.

“Sounds good sweetheart,” he nods and pats his lap. “Come sit with me, have nowhere to be tomorrow.”

You rest the joint between your lips, stand and grab the ashtray. Your bare feet pad across the plush carpet of the area rug as you walk over to Joel.

“Hi,” you smile out with a small puff of smoke.

“You look so cute like this, little cigarette sticking out of your mouth, eyes all cloudy and happy. Love it when my girl is happy.”

You giggle at his compliment as you lift your leg up to rest on the chair, your foot tightly fitting within what little room is left on the seat between Joel’s thick thighs. He looks up at you, his mouth slightly agape his usual furrowed brow a lot less creased, more relaxed.

“I am happy,” you answer as his hands begin to massage your calf. “You look a lot less grumpier than you normally look. That makes me happy.”

“Oh really?”

“Yep,” you say before inhaling another hit.

“Why don’t you make me happier and sit on my lap, that’d make me really happy darlin’.”

Turning your head to the side you blow out a plume of smoke as you place yourself on Joel’s lap, knees bent against his thighs and the armrests. You can feel the denim covered shape of his half hard cock against your cotton shorts. Your tits underneath your faded and holey t-shirt are right at Joel’s eye level.

“S’nice,” he says staring forward at your chest.

“My eyes are up here Joel,” you begin to laugh at your own joke, as you take another hit. You’re so high and happy, you’ve never been stoned and in love, it feels amazing.

“I’d tell you to knock it off, but your whole body’s shaking against me ’n your tits are bouncing in my face,” Joel grins as he kisses a breast through your shirt.

Fuck, now that feels amazing.

“Hold this,” you direct, handing him the joint.

He takes it between his fingers and watches as you lean back and remove your shirt. His eyes widening as he concentrates on your actions, so much for relaxed Joel. He holds up the joint, still in his hands, to your lips.

“Take a hit baby,” his voice gravels out, his cock hardening underneath, “‘n lemme have some.”

You inhale and move your mouth to his, forming a tight seal between the two of you. Joel welcomes the smoke and sucks in as you blow out.

You grab the joint from him as he exhales, a white cloud of smoke floating above the two of you. You take another pull off the joint, your body already feeling much lighter, your brain less complicated.

“Can I have that back?” Joel asks. “Want to do the same you did for me.”

You smile a silent agreement and hand him the joint, now a short stub. He brings it up to his mouth, holding it between his thumb and pointer, his large fingers making it practically disappear save for the glowing orange embers that light as he takes a hit. He looks so fucking tempting as his cheeks slightly puff out. Everything Joel Miller does is hot, but the way he drags on a joint, his pillowy lips wrapping around the white paper, the way his broad shoulders rise as he breathes in, this might just be the hottest you’ve ever seen him. When will you ever get tired of looking at this man?

You bring your lips to his and he exhales into your mouth. Oh, this is the best way to get high. You pull away, releasing the smoke from your lungs.

“‘Bout shot, don’t you think?” Joel raises the joint up and looks at it.

“It’s shot,” you grab the ash tray from the table and hand it to him. He stubs out the joint and puts it back on the table.

He looks at you, his eyes heavier than usual, a little red and glazed. You’ve seen his eyes glazed over with lust numerous times, this glaze is a little lighter, a little happier. He sits back and you move farther up his lap so you can move a finger up to pet the smoothness of the little heart patch in his beard.

“How are you feeling?” You ask as Joel’s hands trace up and down your back.

“Good, real good,” a deep exhale out of his lips answers.

“Relaxed?” You ask as your finger moves to brush back and forth across his lips.

“Mm.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this free before. A light smile, half shut eyes staring back at you, his whole face more relaxed. He looks good this way, you love when he’s happy and relaxed, you’ve never met anybody more deserving.

“Feels good,” Joel says as you rub your finger across his soft lower lip. A deep breath leaves his half parted lips, the air blowing against your finger. “Real good.”

“Good,” your hand moves to trace around his top lip, the hair of his mustache bristling against your digit as you move it back and forth. “I like making you feel good.”

You feel the the lines around his lips rise as he smiles at you. “You’re s’good at it baby.”

“Yeah? What do you like the most?”

“Hard t’pick. Love the way your eyes always blink as you cum for me, can always tells how good you’re feelin’ by how big your eyes get right before. Love the little gasp you always make when I start fuckin’ you. Love that you grab for my hands at any chance you get, like you need to touch me as much as you can. Love that you always need me.” The last sentence coming out the softest.

“I do need you,” you confess, “all the time, not even for all of the you know, sex stuff.”

“I know baby,” he hugs you against his chest, “I need you too… so much.”

“But, I do also really need you for the sex stuff, you know?"

Joel’s chuckle vibrates against you. “My girl’s funny, real funny.”

“But really, what do you need tonight Joel?” You pull away from his chest and look him in the eyes. You love it when he compliments you, you love it when he calls you his girl. You love that he needs you just as much as you need him.

“I need you to tell me what you want from me tonight. Make me yours. Talk to me like I talk t’ya.” Joel’s eyes staring into yours as they widen with his admission. “I’m yours baby.”

A bit of trepidation lands in your brain. Joel’s always the one to depend on to chart the stars of your intimacy. He’s so good at predicting what you want, you let him navigate. The thoughts are silenced once you feel his hands move along your hips and thighs. You can tell he wants you to do this for him. You want Joel to experience what you feel after he’s done with you. You want him to believe in you like you believe in him. You sit up higher on him, feeling braver and bolder. Ready to bless him for his confession.

“Okay. I’m going to get up, walk to the kitchen to get something to drink, and when I come back, I want you to stand in front of my mirrored wall over there. Keep your clothes on.”

You’re shocked by the confidence in your voice. Joel as well, his hands pause their movement as you speak. He stares at you, his mouth slightly open in surprise.

You rise up off of Joel, folding your arms across your naked chest. “Understand?”

“Y-y-yes,” Joel stutters.

“Good,” you wink and turn towards the kitchen, your confident steps leaving a bewildered Joel in your chair. You’ve never acted like this, your brain swirling with ideas of what you want to do, what you want to say, how you want to make him feel.

You grab two glasses out of your cupboard and fill them with water. Your mouth is parched, you’re sure Joel’s is too. You walk back to your living room, your courage building with each step closer. You know you’re ready when you see Joel standing as instructed in front of your mirror.

“Hi handsome,” you walk to stand behind him, still topless and only in your shorts, his eyes moving from looking at his own reflection to your chest. You wouldn’t expect less from him, you love how he looks at you.

“Hi,” Joel whispers. You think he’s a little nervous, a little excited, he probably feels exactly how you feel.

“I’m going to watch you watch yourself get undressed. I want you to listen to me and follow my directions, okay?”

“Yes,” his simple answer resolutely spoken as you put the waters down and turn the lamp on besides you, the light bathing both of you in a smoldering golden hue. You want to fully be able to watch Joel do what you have planned for him.

“Good, I don’t want to hear much from you, okay? I’m the one talking.”

You like this feeling, you especially like the serious nod Joel gives you through the mirror.

“Take your shirt off.”

You watch Joel’s hands move to the hem of his t-shirt and lift it over his head.

“Give it to me,” you step forward and extend a hand out.

The soft gray fabric is still warm with Joel’s body heat as it hits your hand. You bring it to your nose and inhale his scent. “You smell so good all the time. I love the scent of you.” You take one last sniff before putting his shirt on, his smell now encompassing you.

“Wh—“

“Quiet,” you interrupt Joel’s protest, “I don’t want to hear anything out of you, I want to smell like you and wear your shirt while I make you feel good.”

He looks a little annoyed, you like that.

“Look at your chest. It’s perfect. I love how your shoulders are so wide and so strong. I love how your arms are muscular and yet they’re so soft when I rest my head against them. I love how soft your stomach has gotten meaning you’re well fed and healthy. You like the praise baby?”

Joel nods as his eyes darken hearing you call him one of the pet names he always calls you.

“Unbutton and unzip your pants, but don’t take them off.” Your pussy getting wetter at the thought of the sights that you’re about to see, all directed by you. All broadcast on your mirror.

Joel nods, as he unbuttons his jeans, his fingers move to his zipper and pulls it down. You love that he never wears underwear when he comes over. You love how you can see the trail of hair from his belly button down to his bush. He’s the perfect amount of hairy. He’s the perfect amount of manly. He’s just fucking perfect.

“Good. You’re thirsty right?” He nods. You lean over to the table and pick up a glass of water. “Drink all of this. Want to watch your neck move as you swallow it down.”

Joel takes the glass and brings it to his lips, his eye contact not breaking with yours through the reflection. He takes a large gulp brows wrinkling with seriousness for the task at hand, no matter how significant or insignificant it is. It’s so Joel.

“I love watching you drink. I love how small the mug looks in your hand when you drink your coffee in the morning. I love how you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand after downing a whole glass of water when you’re hot. I love how gently form your lips around a glass of whiskey.” You finish your praise as he empties the glass, taking it from him and placing it on the table.

“Good. Feel better?”

He nods.

“Take your pants off,” you think of what Joel would say in this moment. “Lemme see all of you.”

He smirks as he starts to move his jeans down his hips, he knows you’re going to love this part. His cock springs out as it’s freed, fully erect and throbbing, you knew you’d get him good and hard with your attitude. He bends over to shuck his jeans fully off, kicking them to the side, and when he stands up, shoulders back, dick hard and ready to follow your instructions, you almost fall to your knees.

“God, you’re so fucking hot, baby,” you breathe out. His smirk still remains, he knows what he does to you.

Your eyes roam his body, he’s so large and so thick, his body screams protector. He’s your protector. He provides for you. You love that you get to love him and make him feel this way.

“I’m thirsty, why don’t you hand me my glass?” You love how seriously he follows your commands, like it’s the only thing that matters in the world. You love how powerful it makes you feel to see Joel readily do your every request.

Joel turns towards the table and picks up the glass, handing it to you.

“Thank you.”

Another nod.

You quickly drink the water down, save for the last quarter of it. “You’re still thirsty, aren’t you?”

This time it’s not just one slow nod from Joel, it’s three quick nods. He’s thirsty.

“Then come stand here in front of me.”

You’ve enjoyed watching him from a couple of feet back, standing far enough to be able to see all of him in the mirror. Now that he’s right in front of you though, this is how you like him the most. Right beside you.

You empty the rest of the water into your mouth, your cheeks swelling out with the amount you’re holding. You bring your palms up to your mouth and cup them together. Joel begins to breathe heavily as he watches you spit the water into your makeshift hand bowl.

“Now, drink it up,” you order.

He moves so fast, so eager to please. Joel’s head quickly craning down as his brown eyes look up at you. Your heart begins to race as his tongue comes out of his mouth and begins to lap up the water out of your hand. “I love how you’re looking up at me, you look at me the same way when you eat me out.”

Joel grunts as he leans further forward and starts to suck the water up from your hand, never breaking eye contact. The groove of his dimple getting deeper as his cheeks hollow and he sucks up all of the water.

Now you wear Joel’s cocky smirk just like his shirt. You get to know him like he knows you, you get to play with his body like he plays with yours.

“Very good.” You move your hands to wrap around his erection, the slickness of the water allowing you to easily stroke him. A gruff breath leaves Joel’s mouth, the air landing against your face. You only leave your hands on him for a couple pumps, just enough until he begins to arch his back. His eyes widen as you remove your hands, a small “mmf” is let out of his pursed lips.

“I know, I know, I know you want more. You’ll get it soon. You’re being real well behaved for me, aren’t you?”

Another nod. Joel still hasn’t spoken a word, you miss his voice but you also like to watch him challenge himself to stay quiet.

“Face the mirror again Joel.”

He likes it when you say his name, he’s told you so many times how he likes to hear your voice say his name.

“Touch yourself for me Joel.”

His heavy eyes slowly shut as he bites his bottom lip with a moan, he liked that… a lot. He opens his eyes and with a look of determination, he spits in his hand before moving it down and gripping his shaft as he looks at you for his next command.

“Stroke yourself for me.”

He begins to slowly pump himself, savoring and watching himself in the reflection. His gaze anchoring in on pleasuring himself.

You wonder when the last time he did this was.

“When’s the last time you made yourself cum?” His movements falter as he looks up at you and takes in your question. “Go ahead, you can talk, tell me.”

“That last night you were painting f’me,” a half smile shows up on his face as he begins to stroke again.

Now you’re the one who only nods, your words lost at his confession. “Go on,” you muster up. You need to hear more.

“Went to bed that night, ’n all I could see was your pretty eyes lookin’ up at me, how you looked in those overalls, I felt like I could still feel your lips on mine.” His strokes getting quicker, his hand pausing as he twists his hand around his tip. “Was so hard for you, had to take care of things before I could fall asleep.”

Your whole body shivers, his words making your pussy begin to drip out onto your shorts. The look of his face as he recalls his memories. Those words added to all of his others that prove to you again that you have Joel’s heart, mind and body. He is yours.

“God. Th—that’s good,” you breathe out, your eyes widening when you watch him bite his lip as he squeezes his cock. He has you flustered, and he knows, his mouth grinning into the signature cocky smirk he gets whenever you get like this. As if his sense of self blooms whenever he makes your heart race.

You can’t allow him this pleasure over you, you’re the one in control tonight. You remind yourself that this is what Joel wants. You steel yourself and stand a little taller.

“Stop,” you bark out.

He obeys, mouth slacking open in shock at your raised voice. His hand unwrapping from around himself.

“Good job, I think you were getting a little too comfortable, weren’t you?”

Joel just stares at you, seems he forgot to nod.

“I can’t let you have the power tonight, can I? Acknowledge me Joel.”

“N—no,” an actual stutter from Joel Miller’s mouth. Not a grunt, not a short one word answer, an actual nervous stutter.

“That’s right. Now, I think you’ve had too much fun putting on a show for me. Go sit in the middle of the couch.”

He nods, his broad frame passes by you, he doesn’t even take the time to look at you.

You follow behind and wait until he takes a seat. You love seeing Joel on your couch, in your bed, using one of your bowls to eat oatmeal out of. You love seeing him in your space, all comfortable and domestic, but seeing him now naked on your couch, his hard cock sitting straight up, his large hands sitting atop his strong thighs, shoulders taking up most of the backrest of his seat, sitting ready to listen to your commands. This is how you really like to see him. He’s fucking gorgeous.

“So, you had your fun with your body, I want to have my fun with your body,” you stand over him. Now your body gets to loom over his.

You bring the collar of Joel’s shirt up to your nose, inhale deeply and moan. “Have I told you before how much I love how your smell? Sometimes I’ll be wearing one of your shirts to bed I’ll smell your scent on it and it’ll make me wet while I’m trying to go to sleep.” The sound from Joel’s mouth makes you bolder. “One night, I might just knock on your door, in only your shirt and my jacket, make you help me take care of what smelling you does to me. Would you like that?”

Joel shudders and furiously nods.

“Ohh, had a feeling you would,” you chuckle as you remove his shirt off of you. “I’m going to do something I've been wanting to do, okay?”

A nod, a groan, and a sigh now. The more reactions you get at once, the more you know how good you’re doing.

You pull down your shorts, and kick them aside. His fingers grip into his thighs, his forearms straining at the sight of you. He’s going through it.

“Can you see me glisten for you baby?” You ask as you lift your foot onto the couch cushion and snake your hand down in between your legs. “See how wet I got watching you touch yourself for me?” You take a finger and run it across your folds gathering your wetness. You hold it up for Joel, his eyes glued to your finger. “Open your mouth.”

He listens. You slide your finger into his mouth, his lips forming around it, a low moan vibrating against it.

“Put your hands on the couch, you can’t touch me, you can only watch. Okay?”

Joel obeys. He still sucks your finger as you straddle his thigh. His skin radiates heat against you once you place your wet pussy on it. You’ve wanted to do this since you saw his bare legs for the first time, his thighs are so muscular and yet so supple, much like the rest of his features. Joel groans as you begin to ride his thigh, rubbing yourself back and forth against his skin.

“You like how wet my pussy feels on your thigh?” You pull your finger out of his mouth. “Answer me Joel. Want to hear your voice.”

“Yes.”

“What do you like?”

“Your wet pussy on my th— I like your wet pussy on my thigh,” his low cadence and the pressure against your aching cunt pushing you close to your orgasm.

“I’m going to make myself cum on your thigh, okay? I’m so close.” You begin to grind your hips down on his his thigh, putting the perfect amount of friction against your clit.

Your hands splay against Joel’s chest, feeling his breaths and his moans rumble against your palms.

“I’m gonna cum on your thigh Joel.” You grab and pull on his chest hair as your climax reaches you, cresting over and spilling onto Joel’s thigh as you grind against it. Joel’s eyes boring into you looking forlorn and tortured that he can’t touch you as you cum on him.

You rest your head against his shoulder as you catch your breath. You need to recover quickly, you’re ready to ride him.

Joel grumbles as you stand back up.

“Would you look at that? Look down baby, look how wet I got your thigh.” You place your hands on his thighs, a hand resting in the puddle of your slick left on his skin. You lean forward as he looks down and nibble the bare skin of his heart patch before licking your way down his neck and chest. “Should probably clean that up, huh?” You ask as your rest your lips against the plush of his belly before gently biting it.

He groans as you move your mouth down, bypassing his hard cock to the side. You stick your tongue out and lick a long stripe up his thigh tasting yourself as you clean his skin. His breathing turns more labored as he watches you lick yourself up.

“Mm, wonder how I’d taste licking my cum off your cock?” You ask, nuzzling your head into his crotch, his hard cock throbbing against your cheek.

His hips jut as you turn your head and kiss the shaft of him.

“You’re going to cum fast for me, aren’t you?” You leave a kiss on his shaft higher than your last one.

“I love how hard you always cum for me,” another kiss moving your way up his hardness.

“I love the way you fuck my mouth while you cum down my throat,” another kiss.

“I love the way my name sounds as you chant it when I make your legs shake,” another kiss right under his tip.

“I love how your cum tastes as I lick it from my lips,” another kiss on his tip, tasting the precum collected on it.

“Fuck,” he finally utters, not being able to hold back as you lick along the trail of where you just kissed him.

“Shhhh,” you silence against the soft skin of his firmness. “I think it’s about time for me to fuck you, before you get any more ideas about talking.”

Another deep exhale from him, his nose flaring in frustration. You fucking love this.

“Put your hands on the top of your head, and don’t you dare lower them. Don’t touch me, okay?”

Joel nods raising his hands as you plant yourself back on the couch, straddling his legs. His eyes follow your body, his brows a bit more furrowed now.

You hover your pussy over his cock, leaving enough space between the two of you that if he really wanted, he could raise his hips and stick his cock in, but he doesn’t. He wants to do good for you.

“Open your mouth,” you angle your head forward, your lips right in front of his. Joel’s mouth opens, his heavy breathing hitting you in the face, as you lick into his mouth.

You swirl your hips over his cock slowly lowering yourself on him, you’re so soaked for him he easily slides into you.

A long sigh escapes the back of his throat as you begin to ride him. You pull back from his mouth and rest your hands against his chest. His hands still sit on top of his head, you glance up and see how he’s grabbing at his hair in exasperation.

He watches as you move your hands from his chest to yours, cupping your breasts and playing with your nipples.

“Like watching me touch my tits like the way you do? Like how I pinch and pull my nipples like you?”

High pitched moans and groans of frustration leave his mouth. Joel Miller is whimpering.

“Shhhh, shhh, I know baby. Now quiet. Want to hear my wet pussy ride you, stay quiet,” you say grabbing his jaw and pushing his mouth shut.

You begin fucking him harder, the sound of your wet cunt bouncing on him and his whimpers the only sounds in the room. You lean forward and rest your head in the juncture between his head and shoulder. You slam yourself up and down on him, the rapidness of your movements matching the rapidness of your heart as you bring yourself close to your orgasm.

Your back straightens as you place your hands on his biceps, staring in his big brown eyes as your body snaps, your pussy clutching his cock as you cum around Joel. He bites his bottom lip fighting his orgasm for as long as he can. His biceps straining against your grasp as you feel his body begin to quake.

“Clooooose,” he husks. You slip out of him, moving quickly on shaky legs through the aftershocks of your orgasm kneeling down in front of him. His hands are still in his hair as he looks down at you, watching you seal your mouth over him. You bob your head up and down on him as he cums down your throat.

You swallow all of him down as he chants your name. His hands lower, resting against the hollows of your cheeks as you still keep his softening cock in your mouth.

You stare up at him, his hair left awry and twisted from his hands, eyes wide and still blown out as he blinks down at you, his chest rising and falling still catching his breath. He looks at you, like you’re the only thing in this world. You are the center of his universe.

#tw marijuana #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller ff #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller/reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #elks #joel the last of us

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bingwriterxo · 11 months

Text

wisdom teeth

pairing: vada cavell x reader

summary: in which vada gets her wisdom teeth out and you're subjected to listen to her babbling

warnings: mentions/talks of sex (character 18+)

word count: 1000+

Peace and quiet was something that was often lost on you whenever you were in Vada’s presence, your girlfriend’s ramblings and blabber always filling the silent void if there was one to begin with. It was rare that you could hang out with her and not hear her talk for hours on end about whatever came to her mind, even if you didn’t particularly care to listen—not that you’d ever tell her that, because you knew she’d be upset, and you liked hearing her talk, anyway; actually listening was just different.

Somehow, although you really should’ve expected it, you got no reprieve when you offered to drive Vada home from her dentist appointment after getting her wisdom teeth removed. Part of you had thought that she would be too groggy from the anesthesia to do anything more than sleep in the passenger’s seat, while the other part of you thought that her mouth would be too stuffed with gauze for her to talk. Either way, you had initially believed that your time spent with post-surgery Vada would be blissfully silent.

Oh, how wrong you were.

“Vads, come on,” you groaned. “You have to get in the car.” Currently, the brunette was refusing to sit down, instead choosing to flail her arms around in what you believed was an attempt to fight you away. It was, obviously, hilariously failing.

“No!” she shouted, though her words were muffled a bit by the copious amounts of gauze in her mouth, keeping her from bleeding and drooling all over herself. “Stop touchin’ me! I have a girlfriend!”

You froze for a moment, staring at the girl, and then you burst into laughter. You knew that her mind would be a little…gone, because of the anesthesia, but you hadn’t been expecting it to be like this.

“Vada,” you said, “I am your girlfriend.”

Vada stared at you for a moment, her eyes narrowed in suspicion, and then she lit up with excitement and offered you a toothy grin, which was a little bloody. “You are my girlfriend!”

You chuckled. “I know I am. Now, will you get in the car, please?”

She nodded fervently and dropped into her seat, making sure to pull all her limbs in so that you wouldn’t shut the door on her. You bent down, clicking her seatbelt into place, and on your way back up, Vada tried to pull you in for a kiss. It was easy to avoid, however, and her lips landed on your cheek.

She pouted up at you, clearly confused as to why you wouldn’t kiss her. “You can’t kiss with your gauze,” you said, which was half-true. The other half of your avoidance was that you didn’t want her mouth-blood anywhere near you. “Once we get home and take it out, and we get you cleaned up, then I’ll kiss you, okay?” you promised. She nodded solemnly.

You shut the door and rounded the car to get into your own seat. When you were settled, you pulled out your phone, plugged it into the aux cord, and played the playlist that you and Vada had made together softly over the speakers.

You glanced at her. “This good?” you asked, referring to the music.

“I don’t care,” she said brashly. “Let’s go home so we can kiss.”

You bit back a smile. “Okay, babe. We’re going right now.”

* * *

You were halfway to Vada’s house when the nonsense-talk started.

“Can we have sex when we get home?” she asked innocently.

In your surprise, you pressed on the brake a little too hard as you pulled to a stop at a red light, jolting both you and Vada forward slightly. “No,” you said.

“Why not?”

“Because you need to rest, Vads. Plus, your mom and Amelia are going to be home.”

“That’s never stopped us before.” You blushed to your ears at the thought and stepped on the gas pedal when the light turned green. “Besides, who needs rest when we could fuck?”

“Vada!” you hissed, glancing at the girl. She didn’t seem to realize that her words were a little out of pocket, grumbling something about ‘dying from lack of pussy,’ as if the two of you didn’t have sex literally the night before.

You were able to scratch by with a few more minutes of quiet, humming along to the music that was playing, before Vada cut into it again, another question racing to slip past her lips.

“If I buy a cowboy hat, and wear it around daily, would you say that I’m a cowboy?”

You tilted your head at the question. “Why? Are you planning on doing that?”

She shrugged. “That depends. Would I be a cowboy?”

“I guess.” You bit at the inside of your cheek, thinking. “But, I think you might need the boots, too, and, like, a horse?”

Vada huffed. “But if you saw me walking around with a cowboy hat on, your first thought would probably be ‘cowboy’, right?

“Probably,” you answered, thinking that the conversation would be over the sooner you gave into it.

“And you’re all for letting animals have freedom, aren’t you?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Uh, yeah.” Your eyes flitted toward her in suspicion. “Where are you going with this, Vads?”

She giggled a little, and then coughed violently. “Sorry, choked on spit ‘cause of the gauze.” Vada cleared her throat to the best of her ability before saying, “So if I’m a cowboy, and you like free animals, then would you save a horse and ride this cowboy?”

If you weren’t driving, you would’ve slapped her across the back of the head. Instead, you settled for heaving out a sigh and shaking your head. “That was terrible,” you confessed.

Vada frowned. “Rude.”

“Sorry, babe, but it’s true.”

She mumbled something you couldn’t hear and then said, “You didn’t answer the question, though.”

You pulled into her driveway, parking the car and turning to her. “I pray you never have to be given anesthesia again,” you muttered beneath your breath.

Vada looked at you. “What?”

You laughed at the sight. Her cheeks were blown out like a chipmunk because of the gauze, and when she spoke it looked like she was stuck in the middle of a yawn. There was some drool on the corners of her lips, and some on her shirt, and yet…

“Yes, Vads. I would ride this cowboy.”

#vada cavell x reader #vada cavell #vada x reader #the fallout #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega

1K notes · View notes

idlerin · 1 year

Text

NONSENSE

an oikawa tooru social media au

pairing. celebrity!oikawa tooru x f!reader

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

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

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

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

— playlist.

teasers

teaser 1 — teaser 1.5 — teaser 2

profiles

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

episodes !

(⚘) — has narrative parts

ACT I

01. rid me of my despair

02. murder is ethically wrong

03. he’s literally everywhere

04. i’m NOT petty (⚘)

05. i think i’ve seen this film before

06. he’s back !

07. baby girl of all baby girls

08. the famous friend

09. forget me not

10. why are you running!? (⚘)

ACT II

11. blast from the past

12. i despise you (⚘)

13. villains are hot (⚘)

14. adulting and other important stuff (⚘)

15. what we look forward to

16. a nightmare dressed like a daydream

17. antithetical girlie

18. this is the tactic (⚘)

19. honey it hurts (⚘)

20. exes and ohs

21. takoyaki cravings

22. kill me with kindness

23. tell me, tell me (⚘)

24. do you think about me?

25. wish u were sober (⚘)

ACT III

26. you look like shit (⚘)

27. a taste of fame

28. reminds me of

29. helpless, breathless (⚘)

30. oh how you woo me

31. all over again

32. disconnected

33. this love is so illogical

34. don’t care if you ruin me (⚘)

35. hate clingy men

36. need you like oxygen (⚘)

37. media craze

38. hard to love (⚘)

39. coming home

40. only your love

EPILOGUE

41. new friends

42. love languages

43. utterly nonsensical

end

✦

bonus content

post break-up [name]

don’t you know that i’m intoxicated !

you said you liked the way i spoke

unsent letter #1

one of the boys

kuroo being a menace for 12 panels straight

taglist is CLOSED !

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

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

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

2K notes · View notes

bettyfrommars · 4 months

Text

I'm on Fire

chapter 18: the ties that bind

masterlist playlist

18+ MDNI

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

word count: 15k

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

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

-- the ties that bind, Bruce Springsteen

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe a month on a beach somewhere.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had not expected that one

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So easy, just like that.

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

…but was it?

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

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

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

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

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

Start fresh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One week was all you had.

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

—-------

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

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

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

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

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

The old Ferguson Farmhouse was for sale.

—---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thanks to Charlene.

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

But, you’d have Eddie.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Back when he was 19 and she was 23.

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

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

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

She’d be 38 in December.

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

But later that day never came.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m proud of you, son.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everything

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

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

But you were the one keeping a secret.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you ever been in love, Saul?”

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

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

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

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

—-------

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

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

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

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

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

Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was ridiculous. You were being ridiculous.

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

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

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

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

—------

Back at her house, Astrid let the phone ring.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—--

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

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

He didn’t want to smother you.

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

But now he wondered if things were moving too fast.

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

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

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

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

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

but then there was a knock at the door.

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

“Eddie?”

His head snapped around at the sound of the voice.

It was you.

—------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No kidding?” He snorted sarcastically.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eddie.”

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

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

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

“Eddie!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“With me? To Chicago?”

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

“What about Wayne? And Oliver?”

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

“But what about—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—----

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Steve?”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

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

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

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

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

“Steve!”

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

“I’m not dying, Steve.”

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

“I’m pregnant.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Our baby. He couldn’t stop saying it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—------

John Gregson had no idea he was being followed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My type?”

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

He watched John visibly go rigid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-------

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

Astrid had prepared for this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need to talk to you,” he hushed.

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want to move in with me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yikes.

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

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

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

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

“You figured we could be roommates?”

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

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

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

“You think you can make pancakes?”

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

—-------

“WAYNE!”

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

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

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

Maybe the chemo was working? Maybe there was hope?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But once glance was all it took

For you to be fully invested

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

And then, The Velvet Hammer

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

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

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

“What’s up babe? What is that?”

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

“Can I see it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

—------

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

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

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

Steve.

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

A Cinderella story, the reporter called it.

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

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

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

She ran her finger over his face on the newsprint.

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

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

She hadn’t expected that.

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

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

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

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

------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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sednas · 2 years

Text

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋

// get yourself some milky tea, grab a blanket and a stuffed animal, because it's about to get soft \\

⠀ૈ☆ ft. mikey, draken, baji, chifuyu, kazutora, mitsuya, hanma, ran, rindo, smiley, angry x gn!reader

𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐘 asks you to play with his hair when he's tired. he secretly loves when you style his hair into a little bun or two cute pigtails. "how do I look? hot I hope." "you're the cutest gang leader I've ever seen." he cherishes these little moments.

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍 can't be angry at you for too long. even when he has a good reason he can't help but smile when he hears you say you're sorry. if he decides to stay mad at you for a little while he will loose focus on everything he's doing and he will think about you during the whole day. you have him wrapped around your finger even if he will never admit it.

𝐁𝐀𝐉𝐈 takes pictures of you when you're not looking. he does it when he finds you very cute on the moment, like when you're petting a cat, brushing your hair or simply doing something you like. these pictures are often terrible, blurred because he took it too fast but he still uses them as his phone wallpaper. he blushes really hard when you catch him taking the picture, and even more when you see his wallpaper of you.

𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀 made a playlist of songs that remind him of you, it's basically some chill songs, with relaxing beat and soothing lyrics but sometimes more happy tunes, because you make him feel at peace with himself. but he's definitely too shy to send you the link.

𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐘𝐀 asks politely for kisses. he always asks for your consent before kissing you. moving his head a little closer to yours, he lets his eyes trail slowly over your lips and finally raises them to your eyes. "can I kiss you precious?" "why do you always ask?" "I don't know, maybe one day you'll get bored of me." "I will never get bored of you takashi." he smiles and brushes his hand over your hair, bringing your face closer to finally put his lips on yours, pulling you into a heated kiss.

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐘𝐔 sends you a photo of everything he's doing during his day. sometimes it's the picture of a cat, with the caption 'he's cute, like you', other time it's a terribly taken picture of baji chewing on noodles. you're his photo diary, you could easily do a photo novel with all the pictures he sent.

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐌𝐀 offers you gifts when you least expect it. three months ago he saw you looking at that thing with dreamy eyes. being an impatient little shit he took your arm to drag you along with him, saying that it's a waste of time and money. and here he is now, handing you that very special thing you saw three months ago. "you-you shouldn't have..." "take it already. or else I'll sell it." he's probably gonna ask for a kiss as a way of thanks.

𝐑𝐀𝐍 loves to give you compliments when you least expect it. you're reading a book, focused and silent, when you hear him say: "you look really cute with you brows all furrowed like that~" destabilizing is his favorite thing to do. "aw and look at you, don't be flustered, it'll only make me wanna tease you more ♡"

𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎 touches you when he's thinking deeply about something or when he's lost in his thoughts. his hands mindlessly wonder over you, sometimes he plays with your hair, twirling strands of hair between his fingers, or intertwined his fingers with yours as he reads something, completely focused. once he notices what he's doing with his hands he removes them and seems shocked of his own actions. "that's okay, you can keep playing with my hand." "I wasn't- umm fine..."

𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘 kisses you whenever he passes by you. a quick peck on the forehead, a wet kiss that sounded so obscene on your neck, or instead of simply kissing your cheek to greet you he gently takes your hand in his to kiss your knuckles. a cute menace.

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐘 pulls at your clothes when he's too shy to directly ask for your attention. it's very gentle tho, sometimes you barely notice it, he seems like a lost child waiting for you to pick him up, well, a child who is 5'7" tall.

soft headcanons part one

a lovely reminder that reblogs and comments are highly appreciated ♡

tr masterlist

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lizordula · 5 months

Text

Marg My Words

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Summary: A musical mishap on the car ride home gives Melissa an idea.

Warnings: alcohol consumption, implied sexual content

Word Count: ~2.1k

A/N: Inspired by the song One Margarita by That Chick Angel ^^

AO3 Link

Pt. 2

It's the end of the school week, a chilly yet sunny afternoon in the early Philadelphia spring. In the teacher's parking lot, you're surveying the bustling crowd of staff members and students filtering out of Abbott as you lean against the hood of your Fiat 500. When you spot your two favorite senior colleagues you perk up and wave to call attention to yourself. It doesn't take long before Melissa and Barbara notice and approach you hastily, both dying to clock into their weekend time after a long day of work.

"Shall we?" Barb asks, shooting you a smile as she directly beelines for the passenger seat, much to Melissa's chagrin, who hasn't had any luck so far at calling dibs on the front seat.

You push yourself from the hood and pat Melissa's leather-clad arm in sympathy. "You can sit there next time," you assure her and remove your sunglasses to hook them in your neckline. You smirk when it takes Melissa a notable effort to tear her gaze away from your chest.

"You say that every time," she retorts, rolling her eyes, but she slides into the middle of the back seat anyway.

Melissa, Barb, and you decided to start carpooling three weeks ago since you all live in the same part of Philly. The idea came from a plan Jacob had introduced to make Abbott more environmentally friendly, which was met with broad, nearly unanimous approval by the staff. You had to give it to him. Of the many ideas swirling around in his curly head, this one is actually decent.

And you're not just saying that because that was the reason why you fell into Melissa Schemmenti's bed.

A few days into carpooling, Melissa invited you in for a nightcap to commemorate the success of A.V.A festival and the collected signatures for the petition against Legendary Charter Schools. It was just the two of you since Barb had been picked up by Gerald that day. Things led to another, and ever since, your carsharing arrangement turned into a carsharing arrangement with benefits, strictly for blowing off steam after work.

Nobody knows so far, not even Barb, and you want to keep it that way.

After you've plopped down in the driver's seat and checked if everybody fastened their seatbelts, you start the car engine. Unfortunately, you forgot to turn off the Bluetooth on your phone after you listened to music on your wireless headphones in the teacher's lounge and don't notice how your phone instantly connects to your car speakers, continuing where you left off in your playlist.

You freeze when the chorus of a very explicit song starts blaring through the car.

Give me one margarita, I'ma open my legs.

Your eyes widen in realization, and you whip around to Barb, watching her face drop as she processes the song's lyrics.

"Oh shit, uh...," you trail off and rip your phone from the charging cable, frantically typing in your phone's password. Your cheeks heat up in nervousness when it declines.

One time.

Give me two margaritas, I'ma give you some head.

Two times.

Give me three margaritas, I'ma put it in my puss.

Why the fuck isn't face recognition working?

Give me four margaritas, I'ma put it in my tush.

You anxiously glance at Barb, just in time to see her splutter indignantly at the last line and clutch her chest in horror. Meanwhile, in the backseat, Melissa cackles at your misfortune, holding her middle from laughing too hard.

"Oh god, this is gold," the redhead wheezes and wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. Her face almost matches the color of her hair from the exertion.

You scowl at her before nervously looking back to Barb, who is still listening to the song, staring straight ahead, frozen in speechless terror. After snapping out of your horrified state, you do what you should have done in the first place, had your brain thought of the obvious: turn down the volume control.

What follows is an uncomfortable silence. Barb is looking straight ahead, as are you, eyes wide with mortification, both of you dead set on avoiding eye contact. You take a deep breath to calm your nerves before clearing your throat.

"Sorry about that," you say with a strained, tight-lipped smile and make sure to flip the switch to the radio before turning the volume up again.

The rest of the car ride is quiet, save for the classic rock music playing in the background. Barb seems to have already gotten over the shock of your music taste as she is tapping her fingers on her thigh and bobbing her head to some song by Elton John. You, however, are still very much embarrassed by what happened.

It doesn't help that Melissa is making heart eyes at you through the rearview mirror.

Her mind undoubtedly went straight to the gutter. Whenever you lock eyes with her, she has a suggestive smirk painted on her face, secretly taunting you for your song choice. Your gaze frequently darts to her spread legs, and you can tell she notices by the way she subtly increases the angle each time. You glare at her in warning, not wanting to engage in any flirting while Barb is still in the car with you, but Melissa only raises an eyebrow in challenge.

Determined to avoid further embarrassment, you grip the wheel harder, your knuckles slowly turning white, and try to focus on the road. Fortunately, it doesn't take long before you arrive at Barb's house. You park on the side of the curb and switch off the ignition, turning to the kindergarten teacher with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry again for earlier."

"Mh-hm," Barb hums gruffly, but you can tell from the way her lips curl upward that she sees the situation in good humor. "Have a nice weekend," she sing-songs, swinging the door shut. You wave after her with a smile and click the doors shut before Melissa can switch to the passenger seat.

"No front seat privileges for you," you quip and start the engine again, smirking when Melissa rattles the door handle with a dramatic groan.

"You brought that upon yourself," she grumbles and sinks back further in her seat with crossed arms. You smile when you look at her through the rearview mirror and see the endearing pout on her face. The passenger seat is your only leverage against her, and you will exert it whenever you can, especially since she rarely lets you be in charge elsewhere.

Five minutes later, you pull into Melissa's driveway. You unlock the doors and lower your window, watching the redhead round the car and stop at the driver's side. Your eyes flicker to her cleavage when she leans down to rest her arms on the window ledge.

"I think I have everything for a Margharita inside," Melissa tells you in a husky voice and nods toward her house. Your eyes darken at the implication, and you give Melissa a slow once-over, letting your gaze intentionally linger on her lips, before you give her an answer.

"Alright, Schemmenti, lead the way," you drawl and turn off your engine to follow her inside.

As soon as the door is closed, Melissa pushes you up against it. She wastes no time sliding the lapel of your jeans jacket to the side to kiss the junction between your throat and your neck, working her way up to your lips. You hum and close your eyes at the sensation but escape her grasp before she can claim your lips.

She wouldn't get you to bed this easy after that little stunt in the car.

"You promised me margaritas," you respond matter-of-factly as you push past a stunned Melissa. You walk into her kitchen with a self-satisfied smirk, and she trails right behind you, her eyes twinkling in a sly way that tells you that the game is on.

Melissa saunters past you to her liquor cabinet, resting her tongue on the tip of her canine as she sizes you up, and pulls out a bottle of Tequila. Then, she retrieves some lime juice and triple prosecco from the fridge, placing everything in a neat line on the kitchen island next to two glasses. You watch as she pours the drinks in a practiced and elegant manner, captivated by the movements of her hands, before she hands you one of the glasses.

You clink your glasses and take a sip from your drinks. Melissa observes your reaction with rapt attention, awaiting your verdict on her mixology skills. Her pupils dilate when you don't set your glass down and down the whole drink without breaking eye contact. You place the glass back on the counter and lick your lips in contemplation.

"Hm, not bad, but...," you trail off, pleased by the way Melissa's eyes darken at the perceived criticism, "there was no salt rim. Unfortunately, I have to deduct points for presentation."

Melissa eyes you up and down, calculating her next move as she empties her own drink. You suppress the shiver creeping up your spine when you see the wicked glint in her eyes, familiar from whenever you would rile her up or be bratty on purpose.

You are so done for.

Melissa walks to another cabinet and fetches the salt, putting it on the counter before you. She pours you another drink and comes to a halt next to you, pressing the margarita into your hand. You watch intently as she shrugs off her leather jacket and leans back against the counter, inadvertently pushing her chest out.

"Well, help yourself."

Your mouth falls open slightly when you realize what Melissa wants you to do, your face heating up to an unbearable degree. You inch closer until your hips press against hers and grab the salt from the counter. Skipping over her lips entirely, you bow down to her neck and attach your lips to the soft skin there, sucking hard. You smirk against Melissa's skin when you hear her breathing falter and lick a broad stripe over the dip above her collarbone.

When you draw back, Melissa's pupils are completely blown, the green of her irises almost entirely consumed by black. Melissa tries to follow you, but you push her back with your pointer finger, your gaze dropping to her heaving chest when she settles back against the counter. You sprinkle some salt onto the hollow of her throat and take the margarita, taking a sip before descending to Melissa's throat once more.

Melissa throws her head back and moans lowly when your tongue connects with her throat again and starts to lap up all the salt from her skin. You slowly inch your way toward her jaw, making sure to leave marks along the way, and claim her lips with your own at last. Not a second later, Melissa's hands grab your hips to swivel you around, making you gasp into the kiss as your back hits the kitchen island.

You should have known that Melissa would only let you be in charge that long. But you don't complain when she starts unbuckling your pants and pulls them down to your ankles before hoisting you up on the kitchen island. The last thing you see before you throw your head back is her smirk as she descends between your spread legs.

It seems you proved the song right.

━━━

When you recover from your orgasm, Melissa lazily kisses her way up to your throat and lays her head on your chest. "Maybe this convinces you to let me sit in the passenger seat the next time," she mumbles against your skin and places a soft kiss on the swell of your breast. You absentmindedly play with her hair while you catch your breath.

"After today, I'm not sure I could behave. Besides," you say, lifting Melissa's chin with your pointer finger so she locks eyes with you again, "I have a much better seat for you."

Melissa snorts when you quirk your eyebrow suggestively and detangles from your grasp. She holds out a hand to assist you down from the kitchen island, and you slide straight into her arms, taking your time to kiss her sweetly and languidly before you pull away.

"I mean my face," you hurriedly add, although no clarification was necessary. Melissa chuckles in reply and starts tugging you toward her bedroom.

"Yeah, I figured."

#melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader

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fanaticsnail · 6 months

Text

The Apprentice - Part 4

We're back at the dynamic again; bitchy boss and his bratty apprentice. Little bit of angst, lots of groveling ensues.

Word Count: 3,953

Big shout out to the ever growing Mihawk playlist on Spotify, and to song suggestions thrown into my inbox to get the words flowing!

Part 3 back here, Masterlist here.

Amber-coloured eyes bore down from his fixed perch atop his suspended bed within the wooden vessel; honing in on his peaceful apprentice who currently slept soundly atop their suspended bunk in the corner of the cabin.

His eyes were hard and focussed, fixated on each breath you inhaled and exhaled; your chest rising with each silent and serene gasp. He clenched his jaw before his lip began to curl into a snarl. It was typical of you, sleeping so deeply; your face so calm and beautiful. Mihawk’s eyes widened at the thought, narrowing his gaze again at you; a large pit of smouldering coals roaring to life with flames licking at his chest. He scoffed, clenching his fists and rolling onto his back to pull his gaze to the ceiling of the lower-deck cabin; counting the grains that were etched into it.

You let him touch you. Why would you let him touch you? If he had not stepped in, how far were you prepared to go with the Red-Haired pirate? Were your actions purely your own, or did Shanks own your will within his by baring his convincing and intense stare into your eyes? Mihawk knew Shanks would never utilise his ability to convince a potential lover into his bed, but the thought passed the broody warlord’s mind none the less.

“Insubordination,” his mind echoed, his own words rolling around on his tongue as he brought his right hand up to ghost them over his mouth with a brush of his fingertips; the bitter flavour returning once again over his pallet.

He had tried as he might to not break the relationship of mentor and mentee with you, especially since a passionate possession befell him in the alley-way three weeks ago; reciprocating your violent kiss with as much fervour as you drove your body against him. The push and pull coming from you as you managed to sway his will to follow your suggestions lately had a vice-like grip around his throat, the slip in control Mihawk had yet to encounter.

Never had a romantic partner held as much sway over the hawk-eyed sword master, let alone a person he had yet to engage intimacy with completely. Little touches between fingertips as you exchanged glasses with him while sampling vintages of wine, small gestures like offering his embroidered handkerchief towards you to rid the blood of your enemies from spoiling your beautiful features. Again, the warlord growled at the thought of how extremely attractive he had now found you.

Arching your back above the herbal waters in the onsen to expose your breasts playfully to his Red-Haired former acquaintance again whisked over his memory, him closing his eyes as the image branded itself into his mind. He removed his right hand from his lips and balled it into a fist. He steadied his breathing in an attempt to fall into a peaceful slumber as you did next to him, only to find restlessness in his wake.

He heard you stir, prompting him to reopen his eyes and seek you out with his yellow-gaze; only to find you unconsciously shifting in your slumber to fall into more fulfilling comfort with a light sigh escaping your lips. He initially felt relieved that you continued to sleep peacefully, wanting his apprentice to be fully rested for what lies ahead; only for those thoughts to all but flee from his mind as he frowned lowly at you, enraged at how serene you were as you remained blissfully ignorant to the complete hold you had over his heart.

Mihawk had no inhibitions on who he welcomed to his bed; often finding it more practical to engage with hiring partners to tussle with from port to port for the sake of convenience. He enjoyed a pursuit in combat, but often felt his attentions when it came to engaging intimately with another, he found more as a burden to foster relationship. Payment is where that small issue came in handy, as he had no need for coy flirtations before his release.

That completely changed after you collided with him, the dance of tongues against his lips as your hands grasped his cheek in a loving caress; voicing your “hatred” of him as your lord and mentor so tenderly against his lips and body. He had not engaged with another soul intimately in nearly a month and was feeling slightly more riled that he ought to be, in his opinion. The only person to eclipse his mind with bewitching his very soul was the soundly sleeping apprentice in the corner of the room; your hand now laying outstretched and falling from your bunk towards the space where Mihawk was currently residing.

“Yes, sir,” you said firmly, narrowing your eyes, “I’m yours.”

Mihawk softened his intense stare, choosing to bring himself from the sides of his bed and walk over to you. His white sleep-pants hung loosely from his hips as he took calculated and calm strides towards your sleeping form; reaching his hand down towards your wrist and gathering it in his grasp as softly as he could to not disturb your slumber. He expertly brought your hand back to sit atop your pillow beside your head, releasing his grip on you while reaching down to readjust your sheets to pull them upwards over your shoulders. He smoothed over the material to ensure there were no creases to litter you with sleep marks before gently removing his grip from you by dancing his fingertips along the blankets and mattress.

“Mine,” he reminded himself, the response again of “yours,” confidentially spoken through your lips as confirmation of your intentions to remain as his apprentice. His.

He moved his hands away from your body and smoothed his fingers and palms over his face before raking his fingertips through his curled raven locks, clicking his neck and arching his back as he did so.

Off into the distance, he heard cannon fire and roars of battle engaging off the coast. He noticed your brows began to furrow in your sleep, prompting Mihawk to raise his palm up over you in caution in case you wake. Seeing you become restless at the sounds both made the warlord elated he had trained remaining combat-ready into you, but also had the primal need to hit something to release his pent up agitation at somebody.

That somebody was about to meet the steel of Yoru in combat, hopefully they pose a semblance of a challenge for him.

As your eyes flittered open, you immediately searched the cabin to seek out the master leading you through the intricate craft of sword wielding; only to find his perch completely empty.

You creased your brows, fleeing the sheets from your body and beginning to redress in your travel clothes; reequipping your blades and scabbard against your belts as you continued to be perplexed at the current ware-abouts of your warlord.

You halted your actions at the thought: your warlord. Images of complete control and direction from the master swordsman with the firmness in his tone sent a shiver up your spine at the memory; you found yourself shuddering at it with a small smirk adorning your lips.

It worked, he was angry. He was possessive and he held an aura of ferocity as he demonstrated his desire for absolute control. A small pit in began to form in your chest, shying away from the fact that he was yet to utter a word to you from the trip back from the onsen, to the inn you stayed in for two nights, nor the trip back to the boat; his silent brood leaving you with an air of unease.

Perhaps you pushed too far? Or perhaps he was indifferent enough to you romantically that he only wanted to utilise his body to show you how completely you were under his control. Either way, you had a balm for it.

You reached under your suspended bunk and fished out amongst the luggage for a particular wooden box you were itching to crack open. Upon finding it in your hands you quickly brought the object to rest atop your bunk, cracking the box open with the blade you drew from your side and releasing its casing. You smiled as you retracted the lid of the box with a snap, the item completely untainted by time as you expertly aged it. You brought the glass contents of the box outwards, disregarding the wood to the side and now focussing your attention on the bottle you were holding.

Nebbiolo. Expertly aged within the cellars of your uncle’s keep, before you were gifted it in celebration of being accepted into Mihawk’s apprenticeship. The grape variety known for its tough exterior with tart tannin forwardness in its youth, as the wine ages under correct circumstances; it develops complexity, softening its harshness and becoming slightly sweet under the rich dark peppercorn notes.

Before you commenced your apprenticeship, you were a novice wine-drinker; appreciating it but never truly understanding it. Dracule Mihawk changed that as your interests grew outside of the world of swords and dove head-first into the rich and ever expanding world of viticulture.

This bottle you had intended on sharing with the warlord once you completed your apprenticeship under him, sharing it for a night together basking in mutual respect and appreciation for one another. Now this wine serves a new purpose, to hopefully sooth over any bruised egos and humble yourself under his leadership once more.

As he was being exceptionally more broody lately, you had decided this day was as good as any other to enjoy this particular bottle together. You were going to absolutely lay it on thick with the grovelling, hoping he would once again bring his vicious mockery and humour in his own way back to your comradery once again.

Flirting with the Red-Haired pirate was a mistake; one you were absolutely paying the price for with the consequences of your actions demonstrated in Mihawk’s surliness towards you. You rolled your shoulders back, rotating your neck to sooth over any nerves and carried the Nebbiolo carefully to bring above the deck in search of your sword-master.

As you approached the deck, you immediately drew your eyes to the warlord sitting with his legs extended against the wooden countertop of a rounded table; leaning back comfortably in his assigned wooden chair with his hat drawn over his face to shield him from the sun as he basked under its rays. You trailed your eyes over his bare torso, the large jacket remaining open for you to allow your unrestrained gaze to appreciate every curve and muscle displayed to you.

Sensing your approach, the warlord made no effort to remove his hat to address you; simply informing you: “we have a new heading,” muffled slightly under the broad rim of the feathered hat.

“Sir?” you asked him, continuing your approach and reaching into your pockets for a corkscrew, sourcing a decanter with your sights and beginning to bring your body to seek it out.

“Baratie,” he replied in a bored tone, still shrouded from view of his face. You furrowed your brows at his direction, choosing to continue your actions of collecting the corkscrew and decanter, expertly managing to equip yourself with two wine glasses beside them.

Although this was the first conversation spoken since the onsen incident, you could still sense the thick tension within the air; anger continuing to fall from his tone and posture. You looked down at Yoru placed on the ground beside him, noting the blade was littered with blood.

“You have been busy this morning, my lord?” you noted, trailing your sights back to him as he lazily lifted his hat to display him looking through the peripheral edge of his yellow eyes at you.

“That I have, Apprentice,” he said, beginning to place the hat back over his eyes; only to completely halt his actions and stare at the hoard you were carrying so carefully within your arms, “and what do you have there?”

You smiled softly, looking down under his gaze and beginning to assemble the objects on the wooden tabletop to present them to him.

“I have an apology,” you spoke, continuing to hold your eyes to the ground as you did so, “and I also have some wine.”

Mihawk immediately fixed his posture, removing his feet from the table to gawk at the bottle.

“Where did you get that?” he asked, flittering his gaze down to the bottle before falling upwards towards your face in question, “is that a Nebbiolo?” A smirk immediately rose to your lips as you tilted your head to look back at the now almost elated, in his own particular way, warlord as he continued to hold firm the bottle fixed within his sights.

“It is, my lord,” your smirk now warmed into a smile as you brandished your corkscrew in a circular motion to begin to rid the bottle of its cork, “and it’s older than I am.”

“And this is how you offer your apology, is it Apprentice?” he asked you again, narrowing his eyes at you and rising to stand in leu of sitting; prowling over to tower his body over your own; “after failing to follow simple instruction?”

He raised his left hand to place atop your own to halt your steel screw from beginning its descent into the neck of the prized bottle. You furrowed your brows and at the moment your eyes met, Mihawk’s right hand came to clasp your chin within his thumb and four fingers; holding your eyes against his own intense irises: “or something more?”

You searched his eyes for hidden meaning behind his words, finding an emotion foreign to you within them. Adoration, it seemed, but masked with anger; beautiful colour painted on his meticulously manicured face.

“-Something more, sir,” you whispered, your eyes darting from his yellow gaze and falling gently to land on his moustached lip before retreating your boldness to rise once more to his eyes.

“What else are you apologising for, Apprentice?” he uttered, his eyes falling half-lidded as he tore his sights over your face; continuing to be in complete control of every action; “I’m listening intently.”

You swallowed the small pool of saliva that had begun to collect within your mouth. You were completely taken aback by how enraptured he had become under the posed bottle presented to him, although you had hoped he would warm to you; you were not expecting such haste.

“I-I was acting impulsively, my lord,” you stuttered in a hushed tone, completely at the mercy of Mihawk as he maneuvered his head to take your entire body within his sights as he continued to hold firm to your chin.

“Yes, you were,” he confirmed in a low growled-purr of a tone; “I said ‘no Shanks’ and you disregarded that order completely.”

You managed to nod with a small gasped whimper falling from your lips as you felt his lips graze your cheek and rise up towards your ear; “go on, then,” he taunted in a whisper; “apologise.” His breath brushed against your neck, the hairs beginning to stand to attention over each of your follicle as your eyes fell closed under his words.

“I am sorry, my lord,” you whispered through parted lips, holding your eyes shut as you felt him move next to you.

“What was that?” he taunted you once again, feeling him gently shake your chin lightly in his grip as a reprimand for closing your eyes; prompting you to reopen them and look up through your eyelashes at him. His eyes were harsh, baring down on you with the anger you so desperately wished to see behind the yellow-hue once again. You almost melted under his intensity, but chose instead to hold firm to your words.

“I apologise for my disobedience, sir,” you spoke with more confidence, hardening your gaze but remaining true to your humility, “I am your apprentice, and I was not acting appropriately. I was bold, and I am truly sorry for any embarrassment I have brought to you.”

You saw his eyes twitch, barely visible in its switch before remaining hard once more. He moved his index and following three fingers from his firm grip on your chin before smoothing them to caress your cheek.

“Is my apology sufficient?” you asked him, feeling the hold on your hands begin to lessen in his other hand, “am I forgiven?”

“Hardly,” he smirked, caressing his thumb over your lips slowly as his gaze fell to them. His lips was a mere whisper away from meeting with your own, yet he did not bring his moustache-adorned lip towards you further.

“Would the Nebbiolo help?” you whispered, your eyes falling half lidded as you felt yourself drawing in closer to his body. He released his hold from your chin and feathered his fingertips over your cheek to draw upwards and tuck your hair behind your ear.

“Perhaps,” he uttered with a small smirk, “but I would rather we save it for another time, Apprentice.”

The title he bestowed to you reminded you of your place under his leadership and your subordination of him, but the tone he utilised as he addressed you seduced your soul; your heart increasing its rapidity as he continued to close the proximity between you.

You heard his breath hitch in a sharp inhale through his nose as he collided his lips firmly against your own, his hand reaching for the wine bottle within your grasp and placing it on the table behind him alongside the other various items you were planning to use to drain its contents together. After setting the bottle atop the wooden countertop, he laced his hand to join the other in your hair; raking through it gently as he inched your lips open further to deepen your collision.

A small whimper escaped your lips as he held you firmly within his grasps, feeling no choice but to bring your hands to fall to his waist and dragging them to settle on his hips beneath his parted great-coat. A groan fell from his lips as he circled his face, his brows furrowing as he continued his passionate display of gliding his lips smoothly against your own.

He trailed his hands down from your hair to rake down your neck and settle to wind around your shoulders as he cradled you against himself. As he drew your torso in to himself, you pulled his hips to align himself completely flush with your own; his bare chest colliding with yours as you felt the pounding heartbeat falling from his chest and harmonise with the rhythm of your own. You shut your eyes tightly as you felt how much your mentor truly felt for you; waves of his frustration falling from his body for each second he held you within his arms.

Stepping forward in long strides, he continued to hold you firm against himself as you felt your back collide with the wooden wall of the lower deck cabin wall; a gasp releasing from your lips as he continued to cling to you as a hawk would take to a meek prey.

But you were no meek prey, you were this hawk’s apprentice: a fast learner in the craft of sword mastery, even faster still in understanding your master’s desperation for you as he expressed it in his own unique way. As you had only just apologised for being insubordinate to the warlord, you chose to behave; reciprocating his affection with as much affection he was displaying against your lips.

He held you in one last deep kiss before breaking away his lips from yours and in turn resting his hatted forehead against your brow with his eyes remaining closed. You shared breaths, his masculine scent casting you within its spell; bewitching your senses as you continued to embrace him in your place against the wall.

“Apology accepted,” he whispered, drawing his forehead away from your own so bare his intense stare against your own.

“Thank you, sir,” you uttered breathily in return, your lips swollen from his intense attack and your eyes looking half-lidded back at him. He smirked at you, nudging his chin upwards and stealing a smaller graze of his lips against your own before drawing himself swiftly away from within your arms, stunning you completely.

He went back to sit atop his wooden chair and reassume his prior position, bringing his hat back down to shroud his face from your view and tilting his head to recline against the chair. He placed his two booted feet atop the wooden table, missing the various glassware and your prized wine bottle.

“My lord?” you asked him, your brows creasing in curiosity and a small hint of desperate longing.

“We’ll be at Baratie within the hour,” he informed you beneath his hat.

“I-I don’t understand, sir-,” you began, only for the warlord to raise his hat slightly for you to view his smirk from beneath it.

“Our next job is to bring in an upstart into marine custody,” he continued to relay to you, “and we’ll be at the job site in an hour.”

You furrowed your brows further and ignored the fluster and prior pooling of heat in the pit of your stomach as you made to approach your boss.

“Your affection, sir. Did you not wish to engage-?” you began again asking him before he cut you off with his own words.

“-We will be at the job site within the hour,” he reemphasised, his smirk now holding firm against his taunting features. You halted your approach as you witnessed a small mischievous glint appear behind his eyes before he continued; “and I require more than a simple hour to engage with you in the manner I desire most.”

At that comment, he placed his hat back over his face as your cheeks and upper ears tinted crimson at his implication. Your eyes widened and you drew your gaze at the ground as you truly processed the words he spoke to you. A warm grin fell to your face as you shook the blush from your cheeks and continued to make your way towards the arrogant warlord.

“What do you suggest be done in the interim?” you asked him, looking toward the decanter and dismissed Nebbiolo; “you shot down my offering of peace, sir.”

You heard a chuckle rumble within the chasms of the bare chest of the warlord, erupting from his lips beneath the hat before teetering off to a small snicker. He took the hat away from his face, baring a grin at you as he suggested; “make some waves with your stance. Your movements are becoming less fluid and I would rather you be at your peak with single combat.”

“Aye, sir,” you said, hardening your stance and rolling your neck and shoulders to make yourself ready to engage in combat with an imagined opponent with your balanced blade within your firm grasp.

“And don’t hold back the lascivious sounds this time,” Mihawk smirked, placing his hat back atop his face; “it will give me something to look forward to once we get to Baratie.”

You stumbled in your stance and widened your eyes at his comment before shaking off his words as water would fall from the back feathers of a hawk. You shook your head with a smile and lowered your stance with your non-dominant hand placed behind your back.

There he was, back again with his lewd comments at your fighting style; only this time you truly appreciated the crass attention he was throwing towards you.

Part 5 (NSFW)

Tag List:

@sapphireonline

#one piece #opla #opla fic #x reader #one piece live action #mihawk #one piece mihawk #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader

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taintandviolent · 7 months

Text

Ride ; Jimmy Darling x Reader

summary: 7k words. Jimmy tries to get you and your friend to ride the carousel, but she swoops in with the cock block of the century. Jimmy takes it real hard, but maybe... maybe you can change that by the end of the night. aka: a little angst, a little fluff, and a whole lotta smut that centers around a carousel. w a r n i n g s: female reader, female receiving, angst, mild fluff, kinda slow burn, fingering, unprotected sex, public sex, rough sex. a/n: I have a problem... I've always wondered what it would be like to fool around on a carousel, and who better to explore that idea with than Jimmy Darling??? be fr. he's the one who would do it. comments are appreciated! full fic & taglist under cut!↓ / ao3 link here! / ♪ recommended playlist here! ♪

It was a beautiful day, really. The sun was out, the sky held big, white clouds as fluffy as the cotton candy in your hand, and by grace of whatever God, the bugs had decided to stay away. The fabric of the tents fluttered, making snapping sounds every time the breeze caught it.

Your bag swung at your side as you two walked through the field, passing the main tent. You’d wanted to see the Freak Show, but Debbie resisted, claiming that it wasn’t “good for us to see God’s mistakes” which you thought was a horrible and cruel thing to say, especially since you’d been teased in school for being so flexible. Some people’s bodies were just… different.

“I wonder how some of them eat.” Debbie sneered, bringing wretched images to mind. Although you hadn’t paid for the Freak Show, the posters of all the… talent… told you enough. Debbie expected a response, but you said nothing, feeling like the way you ate cotton candy was a privilege. You knew it was, and knew not to take it for granted.

“Carousel rides!”

You snapped your head to the left, searching for the source.

The man standing on a wooden crate outside of the operator booth proudly shouted the words over and over again. Children tugged on their mother’s dresses, pointing. Many of them were towed away with a frown, but a special few were treated, their mothers pulling change from their handbags as they approached him. For the most part though, throngs of people passed him, ignoring him. They’d come for the Freak Show, and didn’t want something as normal as a carousel. He’d grabbed your attention with his boisterous voice, and as soon as you two made eye contact, he took that as willing prey. Sure, you understood why; two girls, all by themselves enjoying a casual day at the Freak Show… “Just a nickel for the ride of your life!”

“Ladies!” He stepped down off the box, making a beeline for you. Your friend immediately stiffened and started tugging you away, but you stood fast. He was handsome enough - you’d at least give him the time of day to do his little pitch. With an annoyed huff, Debbie crossed her arms across her chest, rolling her eyes skyward.

“Care for a ride on the carousel? Let the pretty horses carry you for a few minutes, huh?” He crooned.

Debbie laughed haughtily, shaking her head. You pinched off another piece of cotton candy before laying it carefully on your tongue. As the sticky sugar dissolved, you kept your eyes on the man, smiling a coy, come-hither smile. Finally, you swallowed and spoke again. “I used all my money on the Ferris Wheel. You’re awful cute though.”

He grinned boyishly, leaning closer to you. He reached forward, carefully curling his fused fingers in, so as not to scare you as they neared your face. To him, hiding his fingers was a force of habit. You seemed like you might not have cared… but the risk was too great. With a soft, warm smile, the Lobster boy dragged his thumb across the corner of your mouth, removing a small fluff of cotton candy from the corner.

“Y’think so?”

You nodded, your soft curls bouncing with the motion.

“Well, in that case, baby, it’s free of charge for pretty girls.”

“Oh, I doubt that’s true.” You cooed, leaning forward towards him. Surely that would get him in trouble with the big boss later. He glanced at your lips briefly before answering, and that sent a wave of undulating heat through your core. You couldn’t help but feel special at the mention of ‘baby’ even though you were certain that he called at least fifty girls a day the same thing and more. Despite all his lavish flirting, Debbie remained unmoved. In fact, a nasty scowl had developed on her once standardly pretty features.

“C’mon, you can’t tell me you’re gonna turn down a free ride on a carousel now, are ya?”

Debbie yanked your arm again, pursing her lips. “She sure is - get lost, freak.”

Immediately, his debonair expression morphed into something much less friendly. Under a furrowed brow, his dark eyes narrowed into slits, darkening his once-amorous gaze. His jaw clenched, nostrils flaring with anger. As you were towed away, you tried to throw him an apologetic frown, but he’d already turned away to kick the wooden crate he’d been standing on far into the field.

Eve was making her rounds, checking in on everyone as she usually did. For not having any children herself, she had one hell of a maternal streak in her. Her and Ethel both looked after the troupe like they were their own, and that meant making sure that everyone was holding up throughout the day before they had to be corralled for the show. Jimmy had been assigned carousel duty that day, a position he usually shone in. His chipper attitude and undeniable charm brought the crowds, but when she walked up on the carousel, she could tell that Jimmy’s mood had soured. Over what, God knows, but she intended to find out.

A soft hand came down on Jimmy’s shoulder. “What’s going on, sweetheart? What’s that face for?”

“It just ain’t right, Eve. These gals, they’re so pretty… and they’re full of coyote piss. Worst manners I’ve ever seen.”

“I know, but you can’t let ‘em get to you. You know they’re gonna’ say something, sweetheart. It’s the same in every city, Jimmy… there’s always at least two that have nothing nicer to say. Like your mama’ always tells you, it says more about them than it does you.”

Jimmy knew she was right. He knew every single word that ever came out of her cherry-coloured lips was always right. Strong and wise — that was Eve. So why had those two particular girls gotten under his skin so much? He knew why. Underneath all the bitterness, he knew it was because you had been the prettiest girl he’d seen in this city — maybe in a few cities — and that made the cruelty cut a little deeper. Sure, your friend had been the one to make the comment, but you hadn’t taken him up on his offer and you sure as hell hadn’t stopped her — which had to mean that somewhere, deep down, you agreed with her.

Antsy, Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck before craning it to look up at Eve. He offered her an appreciative smile, assuring her that he’d be fine in a few, just needed a bit to cool off. So far, she wasn’t buying it.

“It’s ‘cause she was pretty, wasn’t it? You always get so hung up on the pretty ones.”

That was another thing — nothing got past her.

Your breaths rushed out in tired pants as you ran through the field, clutching your purse to your side. You’d ditched the cotton candy in a bin so you could run freely. Arguably, telling Debbie that she needed to get head on straight might not have been one of the best decisions you’d made this summer. Debbie was your ride home, and that had hammered in that you’d have to walk to the nearest store and ask to use their phone if you wanted to make it home that night. What she’d done just didn’t sit right with you… and you were going to make it right. Besides that, if the rose-tinted fantasy you’d created in your head went as planned, you might have one of the best nights of your life.

You were completely out of breath by the time you got to the carousel, but he was still there, holding the gate open for a group of teenagers as they scurried out like little mice. A very tall woman stood next to him, hands on her hips. She turned to you first, and quirked a single brow.

“Hi,” you breathed. “I wanted to ride the carousel. And um, talk to him.” You jabbed your finger through the air, pointing at the Lobster Boy.

“Well, I don’t know about our boy Jimmy, but the carousel is a nickel, honey.”

You stared for a moment, processing what she’d said. You stuck your hand in your purse, fishing hurriedly around, praying to God that a stray nickel would be nestled in the crevices. After breathily apologising several times in the awkward silence, you finally produced a silver coin, holding it out in your hand, proudly. Before the tall lady could take it, two conjoined digits laid atop your palm, pushing it downwards.

“Carousel’s closed. Lunch break.”

Now or never. “No, wait… please. Listen, I’m sorry about my friend. She… can be such a—”

“Oh, you mean callin’ me a freak?” He asked.

You recoiled, the bite in his words was harsher than you’d prepped yourself for. You swallowed, and straightened up, mustering up the courage to continue.

“Look, Mr. Darling, I really —”

“Oh, we care about names now, huh?”

He was really bent out of shape over this. You took a deep breath, pressing on. “I really did think you’re cute, and I would’ve ridden the carousel right then. I’m sorry that my friend said what she said. She had no right and I don’t have any right coming back here, but… I just… I had to apologise.”

He seemed to consider your words. You thought you saw a flicker of something in those deep, black coffee eyes of his but his expression remained stony, his arms stayed tight across his chest. The woman next to him shifted, nudging him slightly. You cleared your throat, trying to find the confidence to continue presenting your case, but the nerves took hold. The two of them remained impassive, unwilling to see past your friend’s heinous attitude, and you could hardly blame them.

With a small, courteous bow, you turned harshly, cutting yourself off. Any words that came from your mouth were going to be downright foolish, so you marched away from the pair, leaving a frustrated cloud of dust behind you. You thought you heard the woman call back to you, but you ignored her, not wanting any other bruises on your ego.

Thankfully, by the time you’d made it to the outskirts of the main field, Debbie hadn’t left. After some sappy apologies, some agreements that that guy was a jerk, and a promise that you’d buy her soda at the diner, she agreed to stay friends. She thought you were a lunatic for even considering him, especially with those hands he had. You offered to buy her some sweets at the store too, and with a penchant for candy, she agreed and threw the car into drive. It was her father’s car, but she sure didn’t act like it.

The store wasn’t far, but it felt like an eternity with the way she reprimanded you. Worse than your mother would. You rode in silence, sulking — as if it wasn’t bad enough that you’d been shot down out of your pink, cotton candy sky of delusions by Jimmy Darling. You almost opened the door before she’d stopped the car once you two had arrived.

As you stood in the candy aisle, you bounced on your heels. Debbie scoured the rows of jars for her preferred types, you began picked at your nails absentmindedly. It was inevitable that your thoughts drifted back to the red and white striped tents, to the wooden horses with graceful feathers atop their heads, and your mind conjured up the warm, sticky sweet scents of caramel and cotton candy. Jimmy Darling… your expression soured. For all you knew, you’d been blacklisted from ever seeing the show or setting foot on the fairgrounds. Anywhere.

“Alright, let’s go.” She barked, yanking you out of your stupor. Her arms were full of candy. Jeez, is she going to buy the whole store?!

On the way to the diner, you drove, because Debbie was far too invested in her candies to want to drive down the road a few miles. The diner was positioned just near the field, which was a terrific business decision on the owners of the Freak Show. From the vantage point of the tables outside, you could see the Freak Show in all its glory. The Ferris Wheel spun slowly.

From where you sat, you could see the tip of the carousel, and for a brief moment, wondered if he was still there. Was he still calling to people? Had he found another pair of girls, both of them charmed to death by him? Was he guiding them to the horses with a wink? You hung your head, spinning the straw around in your glass, watching sadly as the soda bubbles rushed to the top.

“Well, look who it is.”

Your face fell, the last bit of colour draining from your face. You clocked his voice immediately. That drove a burning stake of embarrassment through your chest, sending you into a flurry of emotion. You turned sharply on the bench to face him. There he was, as handsome as ever, standing next to another man you recognised from the posters, the one who had the fire breathing act. Without thinking, you scowled at both of them.

“Can I help you?” Lips pursed into a tight, angry line. You were hurt more than anything, but you were putting on an extra show for Debbie.

“I sure hope so. I can’t get your face outta’ my head, doll. It keeps —“

“Oh, we’re smitten now?” You mocked the way he spoke to you earlier. Your voice was sharp, biting, and a reflection of the cracks Jimmy had put in your heart. You felt it, he heard it. You were livid. Now he wanted to talk, now he wanted to give you a chance when a few hours ago, all you’d wanted was a chance to apologise, to make wrongs right and he couldn’t give you the time of day.

“Run back to your Freak Show, Jimmy Darling.”

“Only if you’re coming back with me.”

Debbie straightened up, mouthful of jellies. Even she, in her anti-freak state, couldn’t deny the charm the man held. Her eyes darted between the two of you, waiting to see who would fold first.

“Why should I? So you can humiliate me again? Make me apologise only to shuck me off as nothing again?”

“You went and apologised!?” Debbie blared from behind you, her mouth sticky.

“Hush up!”

Jimmy smirked to his friend, who reciprocated the expression, clearly impressed by your sudden fieriness.

“Huh? I asked you a question, Jimmy.”

“Well, see…” he paused, clearing his throat. “I was just upset back there. But my friend here talked me down, and I—“

“Oh, how nice of him. Maybe I should’ve found him and asked him for a ride.” The words were accompanied by a sneer. The man next to Jimmy tucked his hands in the pockets of his jeans and smirked. It was a suave, dangerous smirk and you caught yourself; almost letting your eyes linger a little too long. As he closed the distance between you two, Jimmy cleared his throat again — a nervous habit.

“Listen, doll face…” he muttered.

Debbie was waiting to see who would fold first… and it was going to be you, because when Jimmy Darling sat down next to you on the tiny little bench, and leaned his elbow on the table, your whole body felt like Jell-O. He smiled hopefully, staring into your eyes. Even Debbie stayed quiet then.

“C’mon… whaddya’ say? After the show tonight, say around… nine o’clock?”

If it were possible, you would’ve told him no, but the way your gaze softened would’ve given you away. So, instead of lying to him, you took a deep breath and turned back, making brief, embarrassed eye contact with Debbie before returning your attention to your very interesting soda.

Jimmy waited a few more moments, but finally got up without another word. His friend muttered something you couldn’t hear. You were proud of yourself and how resilient you were acting, because deep down, you wanted to run back to him, clutch him at the collar and beg for his attention again. But you didn’t, and he didn’t come back, just walked off down the dirt road with his friend, laughing and joking. Your only option now was go to see him at nine o’clock.

Somehow, even though she was still sore, you convinced Debbie to see a movie after you finished your sodas, just to pass the time. You’d gone and apologised and made her look bad, so she was mad at you and made that known. As you munched on popcorn, you thought about lecturing her on her choice of words, but ultimately, decided against it — she was rooted in her ways and you in yours. The hours dragged and the movie was no help. You couldn’t even recall the plot as the images flashed before your eyes. Some romantic plot, but you were too busy thinking about your own plot with Jimmy Darling, the Lobster Boy. Too busy swimming in his deep, brown eyes and basking in his bright, poster-boy smile. You’d give it all just to see it again… just to see him look at you the way he had this afternoon.

Eventually, the movie ended and it was just about eight-thirty — enough time to get to the field. Debbie may have been mad, but she still offered to drive. She swore up and down that she wouldn’t pick you up, however. That was alright, you mused. If you had your way, you wouldn’t need a ride home.

About that time, Jimmy leaned against one of the horses. There was a part of him that was screaming that this was a waste of time and there wasn’t a chance in Hell that you were coming. Another part that was more gentle, softer, and more romantic whispered quietly in his ear that something in your eyes earlier today had begged for him to touch you, to hold you close to his chest and nuzzle his lips against your neck. Girls were funny creatures, but boy did he love ‘em. Even through all the tribulations and mood swings, Jimmy was obsessed with those long-legged, bright-eyed, pink-lipped girls. There was just something about them.

Given his unfortunate circumstances, Jimmy didn’t particularly see himself as a Casanova, but the reality of it was that he was every bit of that. In every city their caravans pulled into, Jimmy always found himself a handful of girls who would swoon over him, and another select one that was adventurous enough to be moaning his name by the end of the week. He was doing ‘em a service, giving them a taste of the wild side of loving.

You approached from the opposite side of the meadow, passing quietly by the Ferris Wheel. Everything was abandoned, the circus-goers had long since left, leaving nothing but empty popcorn bags and heavily trodden grass. The main tent was alive with chatter though, full of people. You assumed Jimmy wasn’t in there, and when you craned your neck to look over, you saw a black woollen hat poking over the top of one of the horses.

“I’m here to ride…” you said quietly, approaching from behind.

Jimmy spun around to the direction of your voice, a delighted smile on his face. He was thrilled — over the moon, in fact. In a flurry of excitement, he yanked his hat off his head and threw it to the ground before latching onto one of the twisted golden poles. With a small laugh, he swung himself off the carousel onto the grass, the blades folding underneath his weight. He rushed up to you, like he had earlier in the day, and immediately, his gaze locked onto your lips, glossy with some sort of lipstick that you’d put on just before showing up.

“I didn’t think you’d make it…”

“I don’t think that’s true,” you said. “I think you knew very well that I would.”

“Sure, maybe I did.”

You gazed up into his pitch dark eyes with a smile. For such an inky set of hues, they sure were warm. He looked back down at you, tilting his head slightly. A love drunk, half-lidded look washed over his features and with a breath, you mirrored it. You rose to your tip-toes, biting the corner of your bottom lip.

That was a look of wanting a kiss, and boy was he glad you’d given him the green light on that one. Jimmy placed his hands on your elbows before slowly sliding them up the backs of your arms. Once they reached your shoulders, he pulled you in closer. He lowered his head with a smile, and finally, your lips met in the softest, tenderest kiss you’d ever had in your life. “C’mon,” he said, breaking the kiss as he took your hand. “You came here for a ride, and I’m gonna’ give you one.”

With your smaller hand in his, Jimmy wasted no time in leading you to the carousel. After a little deliberation, you chose the tan horse with the beautiful, golden plume on its headdress, its head reared up in an enchanting whinny. You hoisted one leg over the horse’s wooden body, holding your skirt down in the middle to avoid flashing the man behind you. Once you were situated, Jimmy took hold of the worn leather strap at your waist, wrapping both arms around you to slip the prong into the size-appropriate hole. Both his large, vascular hands came down on either hip, giving you a gentle pat.

“Gotta’ strap you down, in case this horse decides to take off.” Jimmy teased. He gave you a wink before stepping off the carousel and making the short trek to the operator’s booth. After he’d slipped inside, he flipped a switch and pushed forward on a lever. The music started first, breathy and light. Shortly after, the carousel gently came to life; the horses that were high dipped gracefully, and the ones that were low, rose ever so softly into the air, until they were all galloping in unison.

You held on, delighted. Even though you were no longer a child, riding a carousel still held a certain joviality. The horses went up down as light as air, and you moved your body with their motions, stretching up and curving down as they circled around their track. You wondered where the rest of the troupe was. Surely, they’d heard the sweet, mellifluous sound of of the calliope as it drifted over the tall grasses and rode on the soft breeze, inviting anyone who heard it to come for a ride, come for a ride.

Jimmy stood just in front of the carousel, watching as you swept by, circling round and round. Every time you caught a glimpse, you blushed. You didn’t have to be a mind-reader to hear his thoughts; he was admiring the way your body seemed to course with energy, following the movements of the animal below you, and matching their gait. He figured you’d do that with him, too. God, I sure hope she does.

The carousel was going slow enough that Jimmy could step on without injury, but even then, he was skilled enough to do it at a higher speed. He waited until the black horse passed and then quickly hopped on. He was several horses behind you, which meant that you’d be looking for him out in the field on the next rotation. And you were — he saw your neck lengthen as you looked for him, turning slightly as you passed the spot where he previously stood. Jimmy travelled from horse to horse, his hand flattening on the hard, wooden rumps of each of the horses as he passed them. As he approached, you were none the wiser, still giggling softly to yourself and swaying delicately to the music.

“Havin’ fun?” He asked, laying his hand on the small of your back. Instead of lurching upwards in fright like he expected you to, you melted into his hand. With a sigh, you dropped your head to the side, thankful that it landed on his shoulder. You got a whiff of his warm aroma; he smelled like a carnival would, a perfume of popcorn, cotton candy, warm grasses and sun. You took a few deep breaths, calming your nerves. With the euphoria of the carousel, you were already so full of emotion. Now arousal? Just because he touched your back and you smelled him? Poor little fool. You weren’t sure you could handle another overwhelming sensation.

“This is the most wonderful carousel I’ve ever ridden,” you confessed dreamily. “And I’ve ridden so many.”

“This ol’ girl?” He asked. He stroked the horse next to you, fingers dancing lovingly over the tresses of the horse’s frozen mane. “Aw, shucks. She probably loves hearin’ that. She’s been with us since… hell, since before I’ve been apart of the show.”

He looked up, watching as the oiled gears rotated, bringing you up and down. Him and Eve had repaired this thing a handful times, and his mother had even sculpted a new head for one of them. The white one, on the other side. Of course, she’d done such a good job that barely anyone noticed. There’d be a day where she’d break down so bad that they couldn’t fix her, but today wasn’t that day.

You’d made quite a few rotations by that point, and the songs would start repeating sooner or later. He asked: “Had enough?”

“I could ride this all night, Jimmy. All night.” You replied.

“How ‘bout you ride something else?”

Your jaw dropped open, but Jimmy closed it with a knuckle. Immediately, he started to stammer nervously, unsure of what had come over him.“Gosh, I’m sorry, that was uh —

You cut him off with a kiss, pressing your lips into his warm, plush ones. You didn’t want to hear an apology. There had certainly been enough of that today. His hand cupped your knee, caressing it softly. The feeling took your breath away, leaving nothing but a quiet little whimper that vibrated against his lips.

Moving away from your knee, Jimmy’s hand trailed upwards until he met the thick fluffy petticoat of your dress and flipped it up, delving underneath before it fluttered back down. His thick fingers grazed your slit over your panties, feeling the heat that radiated from it. You weren’t sure if you’d already started leaking into the satin, but whatever Jimmy felt was enough for him to break the kiss and gaze deep into your eyes.

“Baby, baby… c’mere.” After freeing you, Jimmy hoisted you up into his arms wedding-style. Your arms wrapped around his neck, which you immediately took to kissing and nipping playfully at. His breath hitched when you did. Careful not to hit your feet on any of the horses, Jimmy navigated around each of the horses. He finally reached his destination, and set you carefully down on the swan chair, making sure you were comfortable before sinking into the spot next to you.

“I’m real glad you decided to come tonight.” He murmured, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. “I meant what I said about not bein’ able to get your face outta’ my head.”

“Well, I meant what I said about you being awful cute.”

Jimmy hurriedly crawled on top of you, supporting his weight on the back of the chair. His head hung between his shoulders as he leaned down, bringing his face closer to yours, his warm breath washing over your cheeks.

“I want you real bad,” he slurred. You picked up the faintest hint of alcohol on his breath, biting and strong. “I need that heat, baby.”

The fabric of his dark jeans were pulled taut with his growing arousal, and when you hooked your fingers around the top of his belt, your fingers grazed the warm skin of his tummy. He whimpered as you tugged him closer, urging his hips into yours. You wanted it, batting your lashes with wanton intent. God, he thought. I could fall head first into those doe-eyes if I’m not careful…

Slowly, Jimmy began grinding into you, bringing himself as close as he could with clothes on. You were so soft and warm underneath him. It drove him crazy. You whimpered pitifully, closing your eyes and melting into his touch. One of his hands was on the back of the chair while the other was beneath your ass, pulling you up to meet each of his thrusts.

“Harder, Jimmy.” was all you said.

Jimmy thrusted deeper, rolling his hips back and forth and grinding against your centre. The hardness beneath his jeans bumped against you, rubbing determinedly against your cunt. The friction was just enough to get him stiffer, but not enough to satisfy. Like a lover persisting that something was too much, the wood creaked louder. Jimmy slowed his grinding, looking up at the old neck of the swan. “We oughta’ move this somewhere else… I dunno’ if she can handle…”

“Handle what?” You asked, out of breath and distraught that he’d stopped. The tiniest beads of sweat decorated your hairline. Jimmy had you worked up and only from some heavy grinding.

“Well, to be honest doll face, what I wanna’ do to ya’.”

Your cheeks flushed, hotter than the surface of the sun. They had to be beet-red as your eyelashes fluttered shyly at him. “Jimmy…” you whispered. He grinned, and took a few steps back, extending his hand towards you. Your curious eyes trailed down, sweeping over the bulge in his jeans. You weren’t the only one who had gotten worked up, it seemed.

You took his hand and he pulled you off the swan seat with ease, his bicep flexing underneath the cuff of his sleeve. As he led you off the carousel, your hand was swallowed by warmth and size. The journey was short, but the reason for the destination was obvious; it was secluded and out of view. Behind the carousel, between two smaller tents, the grasses were high, swaying back and forth with the breeze. Jimmy sat down first, pulling you down onto his lap.

You needed no instruction from the man beneath you; your hips began grinding back and forth on his groin, picking up where you two left off. He groaned and fell onto his back, weakened with pleasure. You could see his skin flushing with arousal. A smile curled around your lips, feeling more powerful than you could ever remember. Jimmy was beneath you, panting in ecstasy, and all you had to do was wiggle your hips back and forth to make him come undone. You bit your lip, planting your hips hard, and shimmied back and forth, feeling his bulge grind against your swollen clit. Jimmy practically whined at that. It was a high pitched, desperate, breathy sound.

“Baby…” He leaned up, his chest heaving. “You’re drivin’ me wild.”

You nodded, knowingly. It wasn’t a secret that you were driving yourself wild; you were certain that by this point, you’d left a sizeable wet spot on his jeans. Your hands moved to his chest, taking your time with his shirt as you carefully pulled each button out of its slit. Once they were undone, you pushed the shirt off his round shoulders, letting it fall to the grass below. Jimmy watched you intently.

“Where’s my strap now?” You asked, tracing circles on his bare chest. His skin was tanned and warm, like it had taken the warmth of the summer sun, absorbed it and made it its own. You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on the flesh just above his nipple. Jimmy hissed in response, lifting his head to look at you.

He looked at you curiously, a single eye brow lifted. “Your what?”

“My leather safety strap… you know, in case this Lobster takes off…”

“Ohoh,” Jimmy laughed a low, sweet molasses-like chuckle. “Oh, baby. He will. But don’t you worry, I’ll hold onto you nice n’ tight.”

You pressed your lips against his, humming an excited laugh into his mouth. Feeling adventurous, you reached down the front of his jeans. Right away, the tips of your fingers were met with a velvety hot tip, slick with pre-cum. You swept the pad of your thumb over the slit, smearing the clear fluid over the tip. His heavy, swollen cock was already sensitive from the grinding that you two had been doing, so the slightest touch had him bucking his hips into your palm. The motion pushed your hand farther down into his jeans, allowing you to feel his stiff cock, and the heat that radiated from it.

“Jimmy,” you cooed. “You’re so hard…”

“Well, ‘course I am baby… you think you can move those hips on a guy like that and nothin’ happens?” As he spoke, Jimmy’s long, conjoined fingers gripped your hips, urging them back and forth again as if you to remind you what you’d been doing. Your body obeyed, undulating back and forth, riding the base of his cock, while your hand stroked just below the tip.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “Fuck, baby, just like that…”

You kept up, easing more pre-cum from Jimmy’s tip. Your blush had spread to your neck, a direct result of you being embarrassed by your provocativeness. You’d never been this dirty in your life, and your first sexual encounter had been far less licentious than this — but it all felt so natural with him.

“Ahhh, alright — I’m gonna’ lose it, baby. You gotta’ stop…” He said, abruptly yanking your hand from his jeans.

“Well, what’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong with that?” He echoed, pausing to kiss you. “What’s wrong with that is…” Another kiss. “I want inside uh’ you…” Another kiss, and he looked down at your body, watching as your chest heaved with each hot breath that left your lips. He wrapped one arm around you, flipping both of you over so that his body was atop yours. Feebly, you cleared your throat. The knot in your stomach wound tighter as you scooted back from him, arranging yourself and laying down on the shirt.

“C-could you… use your fingers first?” You faltered, sounding more nervous than you actually were. The question was fuelled more by curiosity than fear. Jimmy’s cocoa-coloured eyes seemed to darken even more, mischievously.

“First, huh?” An adorable crooked smile cut across his face. With lips pursed, you shot him a sideways glance. By this point, he had to have known what you wanted, but acted as aloof and innocent as ever. He returned your glance with a wink, knee-walking himself closer to you. With a tight breath, you shimmied out of your panties, setting them next to you in the grass. Your dress skirt had enough length, providing a layer of protection between your ass and the ground.

He stretched his hand, curling and uncurling his long, conjoined digits, like a runner stretching his legs for the marathon ahead. You had him feeling nervous, like a virgin on prom night, so he was thankful for the familiarity of using his hands. He was used to this part. He knew how this went.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, eager to watch. Jimmy’s fingers fell to touch you, nearing your entrance. The tips of them grazed your slit, slipping along your drenched folds and spreading the wetness. His thumb circled your clit, sending a shockwave through your body. The muscles in your abdomen immediately tightened, and a searing ache started just above your bladder. A breathy moan left your lips as you arched your spine upwards in white hot ecstasy.

“Feel good? Tell me, baby.”

“Y-yeah,” you whined. “Yeah, it does.”

He looked down at you, craning his neck to get a better view. You were more than ready; leaking like a faucet. You’d probably been ready, but Jimmy was usually a gentleman and favoured comfort over speed. He did it with all sorts of girls all across the country, for cryin’ out loud. He knew how to get ‘em worked up enough that he could bottom out in one thrust. But of course, he rarely did. They didn’t want his cock, they wanted his freak fingers.

But not you. You wanted all of him.

Jimmy held his breath as he curled one set of pincers back towards his palm, inserting the other into your cunt. He exhaled heavily; it was warm and slick, the sweetest thing he’d ever felt.

“Hohh… babydoll…” He closed his eyes, and began pumping. You were already writhing and panting underneath him. Jimmy grinned bright. He loved the noises that all the pretty girls made when he touched them, but there was something special about the noises you were making. You were expelling these short, high breaths, and thrusting your hips to meet his fingers each time. The immediacy of his need hit him like a freight train. His cock twitched in his briefs, demanding attention. He needed you. Now. His cock tensed again, urging more pre-cum from the tip.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

He prayed to the stars above that you’d say yes. When he saw your curls bounce with the motion of your nodding, he heaved a sigh of relief and flopped over, reaching into his jeans to free his cock from its cloth prison. You couldn’t help but gawk at the way that it stood attention, red and angry and looking for somewhere to go.

“C’mon. On top. I’ll give you the real ride uh’ your life now.”

You gathered your dress and petticoat into your hands before throwing one leg over his waist. Beneath you, Jimmy held his cock, guiding it blindly over your slick folds. You whimpered every time the hot tip bumped into your aching clit. Straightening up on your knees, you paused, doubting your ability to take him all in one go. He sensed your hesitation.

“It’s alright baby, take it nice n’ slow.” His accent was like honey, dribbling out and coating your heart in a warm, sticky mess.

“I’ve just never,” Jimmy pressed a conjoined digit into your lips, shaking his head. “Don’t gotta’ explain yourself. It’s gonna feel good to me either way.”

Your knees spread, slipping against the warm grass as you lowered yourself down onto his cock. At first, the squish of his head was comforting and the heat felt good — really good, but then it was the strain of your cunt trying to accept his girth. You forced your hips down further, and your cunt swallowed the head and half of the shaft.

“Ohh… my god.” As the stinging stretch subsided, making room for his thick cock, a deep moan echoed over the field. Gingerly, you moved your body up and down, feeling full and tense. Jimmy made a fist in front of his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut tight. Sure, he got some tail every now and then, but it was his hand more often than not. He led a “satisfy them now, worry about yourself later” kind of lifestyle, and all for a couple bucks.

But this… this…

He groaned loud, unconsciously thrusting his hips and stuffing the rest of himself inside of you. His cock bottomed out, veiny and pressing against your slick walls. You winced, overcome by the sensation. It was almost too much, but you took a deep breath, and kept at it.

Jimmy’s chocolate eyes softened, full of adoration, as he watched you, feeling your body tremble. She’s never ridden anyone before, save for those horses.

“C’mere, baby. Keep that ass up, and I’ll do the work.” Jimmy’s warm arms wrapped around your back, pulling your chest to his. His arms enveloped your, warm biceps pressing against your shoulders. You nuzzled your nose into his neck, and that’s when he took ahold of your ass, digging his digits into the marshmallow-soft flesh of your cheeks. You backed your hips out slightly, adjusting to the new position.

With a slow breath, he started thrusting up into you. His cock was so slick, messily slipping in and out of you with ease, and the way it was hitting you, the way the ridges of his head popped in and out of your cunt… made your eyes rolled backwards.

“I don’t think you’re a freak,” you panted, meeting his hips. “I promise.”

At first, he didn’t answer, only craned his neck up to kiss you hard. His tongue delved into your mouth, swirling hungrily along yours. You moaned into his mouth. Loud. His large hands, spread out on your ass, moved up and down with each thrust, using it as leverage. You gripped his broad shoulder tight, nails leaving crescent moons in his skin.

“I know, baby… I know you don’t.”

The melodies of the cicadas and the rustling grasses hardly concealed the wet slapping of his thick cock as it pounded into you. Loud enough you were sure that someone could — and would — hear. But it felt so good. You couldn’t stop even if the entire freak show was standing around you, watching, taking notes.

He fucked harder and the feeling of his cock as it massaged your cunt, hitting all the right spots at a gentle curve had you whining into his ear. In your shoes, your toes curled tightly, almost cramping. You begged for him, cried for him, and told him how good it felt. He groaned, moaned and growled in response each time you did. Called you angel face, baby doll, and honey — names that sounded so good on his lips. You shuddered hard against his warm body, drenched in sweat.

Jimmy let out a series of pants as he picked up his speed. You were so close, whining brokenly with every hit of his cock. With a sudden deep sound, his whole body tensed. The veins in his neck popped and his teeth clenched tight, sounds of ecstasy breaking free from between them. You felt the heat of his cum coat your insides and it sent you over the edge — your own orgasm ran after his, clenching around his cock, and leaking down onto his thighs. His thrusts slowed sporadically, twitching up into you before they finally subsided.

He wrapped his arms around you as his cock softened inside of you, both of you panting in unison. Subconsciously, he was protecting you from the chill that would inevitably settle on your sweat-coated body. As he stared up at the stars, the twinkling little pinpricks of light, Jimmy Darling promised you another ride — one home. He didn’t have the heart to tell you that this was his last weekend in your quaint little city. He wasn’t quite ready for that devastation yet.

t a g l i s t : @kaismanwich / @redwoodghost / @elsamarss / @silverzoomiesies / @kaisbasementwhore / @thewolveswithin / @80strashbag / @twinkiemaximoff / @spill-the-t / @stucktothetwo / @evansb1tch / @enchanting-evan / @yesdevineruler / @enchanting-evan / @anonymous0316 / @eventually27 / @violetharmonscupcake/ @my-own-walker / @kai-slut / @fuckedbykai / @iluwmycats / @dewberryobssesed / @the-goblin1 / @dirtyfairy97 / @jellyluvr / @strangerthings420 / @kai-anderson-whore / @piecesofcain / @lilthbunny / @quickandsilvers / @tatelangdonsweater / @ifeeltoofuckingmuch / @howtobesasha/ @randodummy / @throwinginmythai /

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#Jimmy Darling #Jimmy Darling x reader #Jimmy Darling x you #Jimmy Darling x yn #ahs smut #myfics #shout out to stephen sanchez for being my JD inspo as of late

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pepsiboyy · 1 day

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HEARTBEAT - part one

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader summary: after moving to massachusetts from florida, y/n lives with her half brother, nathan doe, who is part of a small garage band. their sassy guitarist, chris sturniolo, can't help but get on her nerves. but there's something about him. warnings: use of y/n lol, mentions of drug abuse, cursing, angst a/n: NEW SERIES ugh i hope you guys LOVE IT SO HARD i have been wanting to start this one for so long i would be in class brainstorming it AND NOW IM DONE WITH IN-PERSON SCHOOL so yayy i hope you guys love it!!!!! sincerely, apollo <3

"are you even listening?"

my eyes ripped from the window to my right.

"yeah, sorry." i mumbled.

massachusetts was so different from florida. it was so much cooler, and why is everything so close together?

i turned to my father, who i swear i only truly knew as a facebook post on my phone screen.

"i think your mom is gonna be so happy to hear that you-"

"she won't care." i chuckled softly as i took a deep breath and sighed, shrugging. "it's okay though. i'm trying to move past that."

as much as i loved my mother, i knew she was bad for me.

my mom was a major drug addict. i fearfully called the cops and child protective services upon finding her in a mental state i had never seen her in. after investigation and lots of court shit i didn't want to think about, i was sent to my father's. i never knew him personally. it was never anything toxic, we talked on social media. but he left shortly after i was born and had a son with a new woman.

my half brother, nathan doe, sat beside me scrolling on his phone.

i had never really spoken to him. he seemed like somebody i might get along with, but i had yet to interact with him.

i guess we would see how it goes.

terrible. it goes terrible. i sat in their guest bedroom for about fourty-five minutes, digging through all of my belongings to find my phone charger. i definitely forgot it.

with a deep sigh, i ran my fingers through my hair and stood to my feet quickly and made my way down the stairs and to the kitchen, where everyone was sitting. i blinked a few times.

"uhh.. hey?" i chuckled awkwardly, biting my lip before burying my hands into my hoodie's pockets. "so um.. i'm gonna run to that gas station we passed on the way here, i'll just walk, i need the fresh air." i breathed.

everyone seemed to exchange looks before they nodded and my dad stood up. "call me if you need anything."

i simply nodded and waved at everyone before heading out the door with a soft sigh, unknowingly slamming the door behind me.

the boston breeze really began to sting about halfway through the walk, even if it were only about three minutes i had really been walking. my headphones hugged my head and played loudly, blasting some of my favorite songs that i had on a playlist to calm down.

there was no reason i should have been so angry, but i think it's just the new environment truly getting to me.

i pulled open the door to the gas station and removed my hood, looking around. my eyes turned to the boy working at the counter, whose eyes were glued to his phone. i turned to look for a charger for my own phone, biting my lip in focus and frowning at the prices. "so expensive.. this is unfair." i scoffed to myself.

after grabbing the two boxes, one being a brick and the other being the cord, i let out a frustrated sigh and set them on the counter, a little harsher than i had anticipated to.

"woah there, i'm sensing some aggression. boyfriend start an argument or what?"

i turned to the boy working, my eyes wide. "excuse me?" i stared at him for a brief moment before scoffing and shaking my head. "none of your business, can you just ring me up please?" i stated firmly, getting out my card and inserting it into the reader.

after pressing a few buttons on the screen on his side, he threw his hands up in defense. "relax sweetheart, i'm just yanking your chain."

"what-?" i stared at him with an expression of disgust, pulling my card out and shoving it into my wallet angrily. i looked at his nametag and squinted slightly.

the boy set the two boxes into a bag and handed them to me, where i gripped the bag and stared at him. "i'm not your sweetheart, chris." i emphasized, quickly leaving and not turning around at the sound of him laughing to himself.

the knock at my door caused me to jump slightly, and i quickly sat up to make my way towards the sound. "what's up?"

i blinked when i saw nate looking at me, the hat on his head backwards and his sleeveless shirt loose on him.

"hey, so.." he blinked a few times as he looked away then back at me. "sorry, i know we haven't spoken much. but um. i'm part of a little band?" he mumbled, and i nodded and leaned against the doorframe as i listened closely. "i figured i should let you know, tuesdays and thursdays we play in the garage, we usually stop at about ten o'clock though, so.." he trailed off.

i looked at him and furrowed my eyebrows before looking at my phone, shrugging softly before setting it back in my pocket. i'm already forgetting the days of the week. couldn't have told anybody today was tuesday.

"that's okay with you, right?"

"yeah, of course. do your thing, man." i smiled reassuringly, and nate's entire expression visibly lit up a bit.

"'preciate it a lot, y/n. you're welcome to sit in and watch if you're interested."

i quickly shook my head and waved a hand. "no no, it's okay. i have some things to do anyway."

nate nodded and waved before he turned and headed down the stairs.

i shut the door and made my way back to my bed, yawning softly. nate seemed very sweet. i don't doubt we will get along in any way, i'm just awkward. and it seems like he is a bit too. pretty sure our dad is, too.

i sighed as i curled up in bed, watching youtube.

11:12pm. it was an hour and twelve minutes past the given time, and all i could hear was sound. just sound. below me.

i was growing frustrated with each second that went by.

fed up, i stood to my feet and stomped out of my room and down the stairs, allowing my arms to hug myself. i was wearing shorts and a baggy tee. the sound grew louder with each step that i took.

i swung open the garage door and looked at nate, slamming the drums, an unfamiliar figure strumming the bass, and-

"hey, y/n," nate stated as he stopped his movements and gave me a toothy smile.

i swear my face went pale.

"this is ben, and this is chris-"

"your name's y/n?" chris stated, his expression equally as shocked as he lowered his arms from his deep red guitar.

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #matthew sturniolo #nathan doe #nate doe

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milla-frenchy · 8 months

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Roads part 4

3k7 | Joel Miller x fem reader Chapt summary: Joel's complex personality continues to disrupt your relationship Warnings: 18+ mdni. Dubcon mutual somnophilia (the subject has been discussed before for reader, not for Joel), alternate POV, 69, cum eating (m/f), semi public (car sex at night), dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, oral (m receving), unprotected piv, creampie, jealousy a/n: A big shout out to @toxicanonymity, somno queen. sleeping beauty was the first fic with somnophilia content that I read, and... Oh my 🥵🖤 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog Thank you for always taking time for me🥰❤️🫂 Spotify playlist | ao3 | Series masterlist

Masterlist

Part 3

Tommy, at first, was uptight about your relationship with Joel. You saw him sometimes looking thoughtfully at Joel, but as the weeks passed he relaxed.

He asked you: “Is he good to you?”

“Yes Tommy. He is. Truely. Never felt so good for years.” You hugged him, and added “Really Tommy. I'm happy with him"

“Ok, honey. I just want you to be happy.”

Your relationship with Joel was going well although he still had moments of insecurity, notably the first times you were at the pub after the altercation, he had hugged you so tightly that you had to ask him to loosen his embrace. “It’s ok, Joel. I’m not going anywhere." He looked at you, nodded before kissing your neck.

Tommy's eyes widened when he saw the scene and finally got used to your relationship.

Sarah was coming for the holidays in a few days, Joel had spoken to her about you, initiating the subject awkwardly and with apprehension, but his daughter was much more open minded and refined than him.

“Well that explains why you've been less grumpy over the last few months on the phone! I'm happy for you dad. It's about time you thought about yourself.”

Joel grumbled then said “Grumpy? You talk like Tommy”

“He’s not wrong about that. So what’s her name?”

Joel told her your name, and Sarah added “Wait a minute, like Tommy’s friend? It's her?"

"It is. Heard 'bout her?"

"Oh man about a million times! She seems great from what Tommy told me about her. That's so cool! I almost met her a few years ago"

“What do you mean?”

“You had to leave for the 4th of July for work and I had to stay with Tommy. He wanted the three of us to spend the day together. He bought some fireworks and told me the Smiths loved them, but I wasn't so sure about that.”

“Jesus…”

“Anyway, you had finished your project and returned on time and it didn't happen, you surprised me by taking me to Austin. Tommy didn't even have time to talk to her about me but he was sure she wouldn't mind. He often spoke to me about her, she seemed so cool dad!”

“She is” he said, smiling.

“How did you make her fall for you, rusty man?”

“I dunno kid,” he laughed.

The day before Sarah arrived, you were spending the night at his house.

Joel woke up during the night, you were lying face to face. He watched you sleep for a few minutes, your face barely lit by the moonlight. And he thought about the fantasy you told him about several days ago. His cock hardened immediately.

He wanted to please you, he knew what you wanted, you had described it to him with precision. And he was going to oblige you.

He gently removed the sheet, revealing your naked body.

He turned you onto your back, slowly, taking the opportunity to spread your thighs wide enough for him to insert himself between them. You sighed in your sleep.

His cock was so hard it hurt. He spit saliva on his hand and stroked it, before sliding his shaft gently against your clit, brushing it just like you asked. You frowned in your sleep but didn't wake up.

He licked his fingers and applied as much saliva as he could to the tip of his cock.

He grabbed the base of his cock in his hand, and slid into your entrance, just inserting the tip, and stopping so as not to hurt you. Your folds tightened against him and he bit back a moan. You were so tight. He thought about what you had asked him specifically, and he pushed slowly. In one single slow drive, he bottomed out.

**********************

You woke up instantly, feeling like you were split in two, first.

Then, experiencing what you’ve been wanting for years, but never found the person to share it with until… Joel. Being fucked while you were sleeping. Excitement immediately took over the pain.

You looked at Joel's face and whined, closing your eyes immediately.

He brought his lips to your ear, and whispered, “I need to fuck. I need to empty my balls.”

“Fuck” you exhaled, feeling your pussy squeeze him immediately upon hearing it.

“Shut up. Don't wanna hear you, except for your fucking moans.”

He put his hand over your mouth and started fucking you hard. You licked his palm, looking at him.

“You’re such a whore,” he said.

His body weighed heavily on yours, his other arm rested near your head, leaning on his elbow, his fist and jaw clenched.

“Fuck… you’re so good for my cock. So tight” he raised his chest to look down at the base of his cock sinking into your pussy for a few moments, then he lay on top of you again.

He growled, you had raised your pelvis to rub your clit against him.

“Need to cum in your fucking pussy. That’s it, yeah like that… my slut’s cunt is so wet now.”

You came instantly, just before he shot his loads of cum deep inside your pussy and filled you up.

Once you finished milking his cock, he rolled onto his back, looked at you while your eyes were still closed after your orgasm, then turned to the other side.

Then again, he was doing exactly what you asked him to do.

Both of you fell back asleep.

He woke up two hours later. It was still dark, you were asleep on your back, in the position he had left you, breathing softly.

His cock was hard again, he settled between your thighs after quickly wetting it with his saliva on his fingers.

He rubbed his cock against your entrance, still wet from the cum that had leaked out of you while you slept.

He bottomed out in one push, much easier than a couple hours ago, with the help of your juices. He put his hand over your mouth immediately.

You woke up full of him and widened your eyes.

“You like being my fucking slut?”

You nodded, after a few seconds, once again out of your deep sleep.

“Does it turn you on, to be fucked twice while you sleep, with my cum still dripping from your fucking soaked pussy?”

You nodded again.

“I’m gonna fuck you stupid, baby. You’re so fucking wet and filled with my cum.” He fucked you rough. You gasped into the palm of his hand.

"You're such a slut, taking my cock like that."

Then he alternated rhythms, sometimes fucking you quickly and tapping your G spot repeatedly, sometimes softer but harder, filling you up completely.

Your gasps became moans.

Until he came and filled you again, his jolts drawing another orgasm out of you.

You fell asleep again without saying a word.

The next morning you woke up to the rising sun. Joel lay on his back, breathing softly.

You looked at his cock. Pink, soothed and soft. Moist from the night.

Until now, you always took it in your mouth when he was already hard, but that time you wanted to feel it growing there.

You settled head to tail in relation to him, resting on your knees and your elbows, but without stepping over him.

You took it in your hand and moaned feeling it so vulnerable.

You heard him growl, and you quickly bent down to lick the tip of his cock before he woke up. Running your tongue over his slit. You felt his cock twitch and you smiled.

You took his tip in your mouth, drunk by the taste on your tongue. Yours, his. You felt the flattering in your pussy, and your wetness already flowing again.

He woke up feeling the heat around his cock.

“Fuck… Come here baby, let me taste you”, he said.

You straddled his body with your legs, your pussy level with his face. He put his hands on your hips, slid his tongue inside you, and licked everything you were soaked in. Your juices, his cum.

He lapped up, harvesting everything he could on his tongue.

You had taken him fully into your mouth, and sucked him, your lips surrounding him as best you could, one hand fixed on the base of his shaft, the other stroking his balls and sliding them under your fingers.

You slowed down as you felt your orgasm coming, unable to keep up your pace on his cock. You jerked him off, keeping your mouth just around his tip, focusing your tongue on his slit and the thickened edges of its tip.

You came together, your mouths filled with each other. He shot his cum on your tongue and in your mouth, and you swallowed every drop.

You continued to lick each other gently, being careful not to overstimulate each other.. Just trying to make you and him feel good for as long as possible, and as gently as possible, until your spasms ended.

You then came to lie down against him, saying "morning baby" smiling, before kissing him. He took you in his arms, while both of you caught your breath.

“ya liked it?”

“Fuck yeah. You fulfilled my fantasy perfectly baby”

He went to pick Sarah up from the airport, you had agreed that you would meet her the next day. They spent the day together, Sarah talked about how her student life was going, and Joel gave an update on his work.

“Why isn’t your girlfriend here?”

“Because I wanted us to spend time together. Not to disturb you.”

“I’m not 5 anymore dad…” she laughed. I want you to be happy.

“We’re taking it slowly. I like it this way.”

"OK. And does that suit her?”

He frowned “Yes, I think so. Everything is going well between us”

The next day you met Sarah and you immediately got on well. Tommy and Maria also came to Joel's barbecue.

You kept your distance from him, staying friendly but without particular outpouring, not wishing to make him uncomfortable. You didn't want to feel that he didn't know how to handle the situation with Sarah.

Years without an official relationship had made him lonely, and you felt he needed some time. You gave it to him, without any reservation or animosity.

You haven't seen each other much over the holidays. You wanted Joel to spend time with his daughter, and you were happy to have time for you, too.

At the end of the holidays, after dropping his daughter off at the airport, Joel came to your house.

He kissed and hugged you once the door closed.

“Thank you. Thank you for being so understanding. I… don’t really know how to handle all of this, I need time and you gave me some.”

“Of course Joel."

He hugged you tighter, his embrace lifting you slightly off the ground.

“Movie night?” you asked him.

“Yeah sure.”

Coming home from the cinema, you put your hand on his thigh in the car. He looked down at it, then looked at you. You moved your hand up his thigh, and as you reached his crotch you bit your lip.

“What are you doing sweetheart?”

"Catching up... I wanna suck your cock and get fucked in the back of your car"

He nodded and moved his right arm away from the steering wheel.

You pulled down his zipper and carefully took his cock out of his pants, not to get it caught in the zipper. He was already hard. You spat in your hand and jerked him gently.

"You should stop the car baby" you told him, before leaning over his cock, and running your saliva over it. You took it into your mouth, wrapping your lips around its tip and caressing it with your tongue.

The car swerved. “Told you baby,” you said, smiling, before taking him back into your mouth.

“Fuck…” he said. He turned into a residential area, and parked in a dimly lit spot. His cock out of his pants and boxers, your mouth around it, dropping further and further to the base.

He placed his hand on your head before grabbing a handful of hair in his fist. He let his head fall against the headrest for a few moments, then looked down at the back of your head.

You let your saliva accumulate and flow down your chin, alternating your sucking rhythms. He let you set your pace, enjoying the sensations on his cock.

“Can’t - fuck… can’t believe you’re sucking my cock in a car at night. Couldn’t wait to come home?”

“Mmm mm” you said, to make him understand that no, you couldn't wait.

“I missed your mouth baby.”

You moaned at his words, and pulled back so you only had the tip in your mouth. You licked its slit, then ran your tongue over its entire length, from base to tip.

“Fuck,” he moaned.

You did it twice, three times, then you took him whole in your mouth again. He released his fist and placed his hand on your head, while he pushed his cock down your throat. You gasped.

“Don’t move”, he commanded.

Tears in the corner of your eyes, you waited for him to release you before pulling away and breathing.

“Go ahead baby,” he commanded.

You took him back into your mouth at your own pace. You heard him moan louder and louder, until you released him and grabbed the door handle.

"What are you doing?" he asked you.

"I told you I wanted you to fuck me in the back of your car."

He pulled his t-shirt down over his cock and got out of the car. You were waiting for him on all fours, head turned towards the rear window of the car.

He knelt behind you and lifted your dress. He pulled down your panties, just enough so that you could spread your thighs a little.

He licked his fingers and came to rub your soaking pussy.

“So wet baby” he said

He entered you with one thrust, making you cry out and almost making you hit the door with your head.

“Fuck, Joel!”

And he fucked you, rough. Burrowing into you and tapping your cervix with every hip thrust, his hands gripping you, thumbs digging into your flesh.

“You like that, being fucked in the back of a car, like a fucking whore?”

His rhythm forced you to put your hand against the glass. He grabbed your wrists with his hands and held them crossed on your lower back, forcing you to drop your head against the seat of the backseat.

He pounded on you continuously, growling. But the feeling wasn't enough for him. He held your wrists tight in one of his hands, and grabbed your shoulder to push deeper into you.

“You’re such -fuck… a slut. Takin' me so good”

His pace wasn't slowing, your mind was barely able to think. You just wanted to feel him as long as possible. Someone could have passed the car and still you would not be able to stop.

“Wanted my cock so bad.”

He dropped your shoulder and slowed the pace.

"No, Joel, don't slow down, please…"

“I want you to cum”

He slipped his index finger into his mouth to wet it, then lowered it to brush against your clit, and roll his finger against it.

“Squeeze my cock, baby, come on”

You let him impose the rhythm he wanted on your body, and felt your pleasure rise under his fingers.

“Joel…”

“Yeah, i feel you pussy clenching around my cock. Come on, baby. Come on my cock”

You felt a wave of warmth wash over you before your clit twitched under his fingers. Your spasms made him cum, he sent his load deep inside your pussy. Finally he released your wrists.

He sat on the backseat, and you turned towards him, saying “damn, i missed it.” He smiled and kissed you.

The next day, during breakfast, you asked him

"So...how was Sarah's vacation?"

“Good. It was nice to see her again.”

"Of course. It must not have been easy, so many weeks without seeing her.”

He nodded.

You felt this strange and uncomfortable lump return to your gut. Your worry increased.

You felt him distant, but didn't know how to broach the subject. You were afraid of touching a too sensitive spot and making him feel cornered. You told yourself that he needed time, but an unpleasant feeling was tugging at your insides.

Weeks passed. You never managed to address the subject that worried you. You cursed yourself internally for not having the courage to do it. But you knew you were afraid the discussion would lead to something too hard to hear.

You felt you wanted... more. Not knowing what exactly. Move in with him? You brushed the idea from your mind. You loved your independence, your house. Confronted with your own contradictions and your concern for Joel, you buried the subject in yourself.

**************************************

Since Sarah's vacation, Joel felt his anxiety growing. He loved you, but Sarah's mother's departure haunted him, and even though the situation was different this time, he was scared. Of not being able to give you what you wanted. Joel sensed that you wanted more, but felt unable to give it to you, didn't know how to. He wondered how long the situation would go on without the subject being discussed. He knew how patient you were with him, and he was grateful to you. So grateful he hated himself. He felt like he was hearing Tommy say that he was just a bear, incapable of giving himself to anyone. Yet he had given you so much so far, like never before.

One morning, your phone rang while you were taking a shower. Joel looked at the screen. Stefan.

He put down the phone and waited for you to come out of the bathroom, and said "your ex-boyfriend called."

“Mmm?”

“That f…Stefan”

"Oh, ok" You saw his fists clenching, and you didn't like it. You felt your annoyance rising.

"Are you gonna call him back?"

“Why would I call him back?”

His knuckles were white under the pressure of his fists.

“Talk to me, Joel.”

“I can’t stand him calling you,” he said in a cold voice.

“You have nothing to worry about -”

“Really?”

“Joel!” You recoiled, choked at hearing his words.

He was silent for a few moments then said “Tell me about you and him. How you met.” his voice was low.

You sighed. “I met him a few years ago. He's a friend of a friend. He's a singer and a guitar player in a rock band. I went to see them at a gig. We started talking about music, and then it happened.”

“How long after you met him?”

“Few weeks i think”

“How long did it last? The first time”

“Few months”

“How was it ?

“What are you talking about ?”

“Fucking him.”

“This conversation is going too far Joel."

“He was a good fuck?” he insisted.

“Wanna know the size of his cock too? Damn…” You shook your head. “It wasn't like you and me, far from it.” He grinned like it didn't matter.

“Why did you end it?”

“Because i had enough. Can't really say more. I didn't see it as a relationship. Can't say I was really attached to him.”

“But you fucked him.”

“Yeah... Yeah. I can fuck someone and not love them, so what?”

“You never loved him?”

“No”

“But he loved you”

“I think he did, yeah.”

“You had no problem with that?”

“No.” You sighed again. “That’s enough Joel. This discussion…is unhealthy and has gone way too far. I'm not comfortable with that. Stefan and I, it’s the past. You need to work on this Joel and I'll help you if you want but I can't do it for you. I have my past, you have yours. And if you don't trust me, we have a problem."

"It's not that."

“Yes, that’s exactly that. And what are you gonna do if you see him in the pub? Break his jaw?" You regretted saying it, and saw that he was hurt.

You looked at the clouds, standing by the window, not knowing what to do. Hurt by the fact that he was unable to express his feelings, except the negative ones. You felt that you gave away too much of yourself in this conversation, while he gave you nothing in return, just jealousy.

"You can't behave like that. We're not teenagers Joel. I know that the departure of Sarah's mother was terrible. I know that starting our relationship wasn't easy for you. But this? I can't Joel… It's toxic. If we don't communicate properly…"

You were tired of what was happening and stopped there. You grabbed your purse and headed towards the door. You turned to look at him and said with tears in your eyes: “I love you. And I hate you for making me say it at such a terrible time. I love YOU. Not him. I’m with YOU. Not with him." You hesitated, and murmured "Fuck you, Joel.”

You slammed the door behind you, hoping he would follow you, in vain. Your tears flowed as you got into your car. You started the car and drove away.

************************************************

Joel hated himself at that moment. The feeling of regressing again and disappointing you. The moment he saw that name on your phone screen, he was torn with emotions. His feelings for you, his fear of losing you.

Everything was swirling around in his mind. And those thoughts were driving him crazy. He couldn't think straight anymore.

He trusted you totally. He didn't recognize himself as this jealous person.

And a part of him knew he was sabotaging himself, during this discussion. He knew he was going too far, but couldn’t stop.

He still couldn't formulate in his mind why he was doing it. He knew he was being unfair to you. He let himself be overwhelmed by his emotions while you were always patient with him.

He watched you leave his house and slam the door. And instead of catching up to you like he wanted to, hug you and tell you that he loved you, he just stood in the dining room, hating himself for hurting you.

Part 5

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