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#reading while wandering california
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Caught a gorgeous sunset last night. The wind and I had a disagreement about how I should hold my book.
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skzstannie · 4 months
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"Did you know?"
SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member! reader
genre: angst, hurt/comfort wc: ~4,500 cw: slight violence, swearing, reader has to go to the hospital
summary: some online rumors cause turmoil within the group, and it seems the members’ concerns were certainly not without reason
A/N: Here's another angsty 9th member fic for you guys, hope you enjoy! My requests are still open, so if you have any ideas, feel free to send them in!
Likes/reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!
Part 2 | Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist
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Today was the first date of your North American tour, landing you guys in the beautiful city of Los Angeles, California. Your managers allowed you the morning to explore the city, given you had constant security. They made you specifically promise to abide by these rules, as you had a habit of sneaking off to see fans on your own. What can you say? Security could be annoying, and your fans were always the sweetest.
This little habit of yours not only made management anxious, but also your members. They knew you could be innocent and credulous when it came to other people, always wanting to believe there was good in everyone. While this may be true, people's best intentions sometimes went out the window when confronted with their favorite Kpop idols.
"Ok, first the art museum for Hyunjin, then Griffith Park, and then the nice breakfast cafe down the street from the venue. Anything else?" Chan reads off your planned itinerary, glancing upwards at you guys.
"Yea, I said I wanted to go to the Santa Monica Pier. They have the cutest attractions there," you say, repeating yourself for what felt like the hundredth time that day. You were the only one wanting to go, all the other members not wanting to risk getting sick on fair food and carnival rides before the concert.
"Yes, and I already acknowledged the fact that we will not be going there today. And we, includes you, meaning you will also not be sneaking off to go by yourself," Chan pointedly looks to you, raising an eyebrow in challenge.
"What makes you think I'd ever do that?" you give him a cheeky smile, tilting your head ever so slightly.
"Don't look at me like that. You know exactly why I'd think that."
You drop your innocent act, giving him a bored look in return.
Chan gets notified that the vans have arrived, so you all pack up your things and head to the hotel elevator. The boys roughhouse in the hallway, Seungmin almost tackling Jeongin to the ground. This is quickly stopped by Minho, reminding them they can't get hurt before the concert tonight. They roll their eyes at him but oblige.
Leaving the hotel, you all jump in the cars, embarking on the short drive to the art museum. Your van consists of Seungmin and Felix sitting in the middle set of seats, while you're squished in the back between Chan and Minho. The air is weirdly tense and quiet, everyone seemingly too occupied with their phones. Besides Chan describing the itinerary this morning, everyone has been quiet all day.
You feel Chan's watchful gaze slide to your screen, and you pull away, leaning towards Minho. "Do you mind?" you sass.
"I do actually. What are you looking at on there, any cute boys?"
"Give me a break, we have a dating ban," you scoff, turning your phone back off and sliding it into your crossbody bag.
You continue to sit in silence until you arrive, not wanting to deal with Chan's wandering eyes on your Instagram feed.
Finally arriving at the art museum, everyone piles out of the vans. Fans line the sidewalk, and a grin spreads across your face. You step out of line quickly, wanting to go over to a particularly young fan. She looks around 8 or 9, and she has a poster of you in hand with a black Sharpie. What's the harm in giving this young girl a quick signature?
Within your first few steps, your arm is aggressively pulled backwards, and you stumble into Minho. He gives you a stern look, and you know, especially with this many people around, not to question him. You fall back in line, looking back to give the young girl a sympathetic smile as you're guided the rest of the way into the museum.
You guys walk through the entrance of the museum, officially out of sight from all the fans. Minho gives you another pointed look, finally releasing your arm from his grasp. "We told you, no funny business today. Tonight's important, and we need you in one piece for it."
Your eyes widen at his tone of voice, not appreciating the seriousness behind it. You know you tend to break some rules here and there, but it's always light-hearted. You'd never intentionally put yourself or anyone else in danger.
You guys explore the museum exhibits in peace, security doing an excellent job of keeping the fans outside. You, not having much of an interest in art, spend most of your time watching Hyunjin and the way he admires the artwork. He really is an artist at heart, and you love the way he can appreciate each individual piece.
While staring at Hyunjin, who's admiring an intensely beautiful painting of a riverbed with flowers, you suddenly feel eyes on you. You quickly spin around to be met with the stares of Felix, Jisung, and Jeongin. They quickly look away, busying themselves looking at the statues next to them.
You give them a squinted look, walking over to them. "What is wrong with you guys today? Why is everyone acting so funny?" you confront them, furrowing your brows.
Jisung stumbles over his words, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Felix jumps in, giving Jisung a strange look, "We were just talking about how beautiful you look today." He comes over to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.
You don't stay there long, removing his arm from around you and walking away. "Weird," you mutter to yourself.
You guys finish up in the museum shortly after. Piling back into the cars, you're once again stuck between Minho and Chan. This time, however, Chan keeps constant conversation with you. He rambles on about the concert that night, what he had for dinner last night, practically anything to keep his mouth moving. While this is still strange behavior, you prefer this to radio silence.
Arriving at Griffith Park, you guys make your way up the hill terrain. All the guys want to take pictures, planning to post them to Instagram later that week. You think the perfect spot for pictures would be the Hollywood sign, so you start to make your way towards it.
You don't think to alert anyone, as it's within eyesight, and you prefer to take your own pictures, anyway. You came prepared, bringing your tripod in your backpack.
Before you make it very far, only walking about 25 feet away from the group, you hear your name being yelled. You turn back around, seeing an angry Minho storming towards you.
"What'd we say about going off on your own? Why are you being so difficult today?" he asks, his voice rising with every word he spits at you.
You don't know what's gotten everyone's panties in a bunch today, but you've just about had enough. The atmosphere has been tense all day, and you're officially sick of it.
"Why is everyone being so tense today? Gosh, I'm only going up to the sign!" You throw your arm behind, motioning to the spot only about 50 feet away from where you and Minho stand.
"No, you will not be going up there, especially not by yourself. Stay with the rest of the group and stop being stubborn!" Minho's overly-critical eyes stare you down. He steps toward you, grabbing you by the elbow for the second time that day.
You wretch yourself away from him. "I've had enough with being man-handled today. I'm done! I'm going to wait in the van. Have fun without me!" you yell at him, stalking off towards the parking lot.
You see everyone had stopped what they were doing upon hearing the loud yells, and they're all watching you as you hurriedly make your way back to the vans. Your face flushes, embarrassment taking over your features.
You pull on the door to the van, realizing it's locked. You stomp your foot and whip around, finding everyone still staring at you with varying expressions. "Someone please unlock this door before I have a mental breakdown," you beg, feeling the beginnings of an anxiety attack taking over your body.
The driver, just feet away sitting on a bench, searches for the keys in his jacket, finally unlocking the door for you. You climb in, slamming the door behind you.
You stumble over the front row of seats, laying down in the back away from the concerned gazes of your members and the rest of the staff. Your chest feels constricted, the air in your lungs feeling limited in supply. Tears stream down your face at the unwanted advances of an anxiety attack.
The fight with Minho paired with the building tension all day, along with the nerves for tonight's concert mixed into a deadly concoction in your brain, all too much for you to handle.
You're not left alone with your thoughts for long, the door to the van opening only minutes later. Hyunjin crawls in, shutting the door behind him.
"Hey, hey, shhh. It's ok, everything will be ok," he coos, rubbing your back. He's squeezed himself down in between the middle row of seats, his elbows resting on the armrests beside him.
"I'm sick of today," tears slide down you cheeks, your voice audibly shaking. "Everyone is being so distant and mean. What'd I do?"
"No honey, you didn't do anything. Everyone's just a little stressed for tonight. There's been some stuff circulating around online putting everyone on edge, but it'll all be fine," he reassures you, trying to roll you onto your other side so he can see your face. Your mind is too pre-occupied to register his words, letting them travel in one ear and out the other.
You allow him to turn you around, uncomfortably shifting in the small space. Your glossy eyes meet his, and he's quick to wrap you up into a tight hug, your own arms squished against his chest.
"Everyone's finishing up out there, then we're going to head to the venue a little earlier than planned. Does that sound ok?" he asks, affectionately running his fingers through your hair.
"Yea," you sniffle, pressing your face firmly into his shoulder. "I don't want to sit by Minho. Please don't make me," you cry harder at the thought.
"Alright, alright, shhh. You're only working yourself up more. You know we have to stay in our assigned vehicles, but I'm sure Seungmin and Felix will switch spots with him and Chan."
After a few more minutes of consoling from Hyunjin, everyone else has finished their photoshoots. Hyunjin leaves, but not before giving you another firm squeeze. Seungmin and Felix pile into the van first, both of them coming to sit beside you. You telepathically thank Hyunjin for asking them in passing.
Felix rests a comforting hand on your knee throughout the ride to the venue. Chan and Minho are silent, completely engrossed in their phones once again.
Once at the venue, you stay far from Minho, not wanting to deal with his negativity. You notice the security is amped up a bit compared to last tour, guards standing at every door leading to your dressing rooms. You figure it's because your band has gotten so much bigger, the Stay Family always growing exponentially.
In your dressing room, Felix occupies the chair by the mirror, your stylists brushing shades of brown and pink across his eyelids. Changbin stands nearby, the hair stylist just finishing up with a couple extra spurts of hairspray. You lay on the couch while you wait, playing Among Us with Jeongin and Hyunjin who reside in the other dressing room.
Changbin and Felix offered to go with you to your dressing room, and you gladly accepted their offer. You explained to them you didn't necessarily want to be alone; you just didn't want to be by Minho.
The stylists start to work on you once they're done with the boys. They finish your hair and makeup just in time for soundcheck, applying some last minute powder to your nose before sending you off to the stage.
Rehearsals go by smoothly. You and Minho are able to put your issues behind you for now. Your fans are so important to you, and the last thing you want to do is ruin their night because of some petty argument.
Management sends you off to the dressing rooms once again, satisfied with the quality of the soundcheck. You follow your members off stage before departing down a separate hallway in search of the bathroom.
You walk for another few seconds, taking a few random turns before your met with the door to the ladies' restroom. You do your business and take your time getting back to the dressing room as you guys don't go on for another hour. The venue your playing is beautiful, so you take a slight detour, admiring all the nice architecture.
You're startled from your peaceful thoughts once again by a furious Minho. "I cannot believe you'd go off on your own again. After all we've told you today, how could you possibly think that's ok?" he throws his hands up in disbelief, his tone snarky.
"I had to use the restroom! You guys have never had a problem with me walking around the venues by myself, why now? You have been up my ass all day. Leave me the hell alone for awhile." You push him out of the way, ramming his shoulder with your own in the tight hallway.
"Do you think this is fun for me, huh? Yelling at you all day long? Did you ever stop to think for one second that there may be something bigger going on here?" His voice sounds exhausted, leaving you slightly concerned because you still have hours of performing to do. However, your anger gets the best of you, and your concern gets pushed deep below the surface.
"Well, I'm sorry that I can't read your damn mind. If there's something bigger going on, then why hasn't anyone told me? I'm a big girl, not some toddler. I am a part of this group the same as everyone else, so why are things being kept from me?"
Minho starts to speak, but you immediately cut him off, not wanting to hear the lame excuses you're sure he's come up with. "You know what, I don't even wanna hear it. My mental health has went to shit today because of you, and if I wanna be able to perform in 30 minutes, I need to be away from you. We can talk about this later," you finish, rushing off to your dressing room, leaving Minho standing alone in the hallway.
Everyone seems to have deemed your dressing room the hangout spot until the concert officially begins, as all the other boys have gathered around, making themselves comfortable amongst the laid out furniture in the room.
You all make conversation, laughing at Changbin's cringey jokes; you're happy for the distraction, allowing your mind to wander from the fight you had with Minho.
10 minutes before you go on, management comes to fetch you to get ready, providing you all with in-ears and microphones.
Your pre-performance jitters have made themselves known, but you've been doing this long enough that you can turn that nervous energy into excitement.
5 minutes before you go on, you and the boys gather in a circle. Chan leads, knowing exactly how to get everyone hype before going on.
You're all standing now just outside of view from the fans on the side of the stage, waiting for your cue from management. Once they give it, you all make your way out onto the stage, relishing in the sounds of the screaming Stay that form the crowd.
All is going smoothly as you finish your center part during the bridge of Lalala, and you make your way to the side of the stage, waiting for the part in the song where you re-enter the choreo. With all your attenton focused on the performance, you fail to notice the commotion coming from the crowd just a few feet from you.
Your attention is pulled away from the performance when you're tackled from behind. You scream in agony and fear, having landed painfully on your wrist. If the snap you felt is anything to go by, it's definitely broken. However, this isn't your main concern at the moment. You open your eyes, and they’re immediately drawn to the shiny pocket knife the man has in his hand. He's quick to slash a small cut into your forearm before he is aggressively pushed off of you. Your attacker is taken down by security; they immediately throw a pair of handcuffs on him, taking him off stage.
The crowd has broke out into panicked cries, all of Stay wondering what happened and if you're ok.
Your members are quick to rush over to you, abandoning the remainder of the Lalala choreo. While it's felt like an eternity since you were tackled, it really only took security a few seconds to get the situation under control, and only a few more seconds for your members to surround you.
"What hurts?" Chan panics, crouching down beside you.
"My wrist," you sob, totally overwhelmed from all the commotion. The crowd is still roaring and your wrist throbbing like crazy. The cut on your arm is no comparison to the pain radiating from your wrist.
"Alright, let's move her off stage," a paramedic pushes through the barricade your members have formed around you and helps you stand to your feet. You quickly move off stage, wanting to get out of the crowd's view as soon as possible.
Once off to the side, one paramedic inspects your wrist, gently grasping your forearm to hold you steady, while another wraps the cut on your other arm.
"It definitely looks broken. We should get you to the hospital to get it X-rayed and possibly casted," he explains.
Minho steps up next to you, your earlier arguments swept from your mind. "I'll go with her. You guys finish up here. Probably should cut the setlist short anyway; we're already behind schedule."
You follow behind the paramedics, them leading you outside to the ambulance. Minho walks beside you, providing you familiarity in this uncomfortable situation.
The ride to the hospital is silent except for the beeping of the machines the paramedics have you connected to. Minho holds your unbroken hand the whole ride, your disagreements on the backburner for the moment.
The more time that passes, the sorer your body becomes. Your arms feel heavy, and your back feels like it was beaten with a hammer. You realize you've probably been in shock this whole time, and the attacker did more damage than you originally thought.
You finally find yourself in a hospital room, Minho pulling the chair up beside you.
"Well," the doctor says, pulling your X-ray up onto the screen, "This cut doesn't require stitches, just keep it bandaged and medicated. We'll give you a Tetanus shot for it, though, since it was done with a knife. As for your wrist, it's definitely broken. The good news, though, is that it doesn't look like it will require surgery. What color cast do you want?"
You're expression appears dazed to Minho and the doctor, your mind completely preoccupied. "Black," you mumble, just loud enough for him to hear you.
The doctor nods his head, disappearing from the room to retrieve the supplies to apply your cast and the shot.
You look to Minho, finally feeling like you have processed everything that's happened. "What the hell happened? How did that guy get past security, and with a knife especially?"
"Honestly, we're not sure. Management and security are reviewing the camera footage now. We were trying to be cautious; there was so much extra security tonight. It should've been impossible for anyone to get to you."
You process his words, a realization forming in your mind. "Did you guys know something about this beforehand?" Your eyebrows furrow. If they knew something, they for sure would have told you, too, right? "Is this what you were talking about in the hallway before the concert?"
"Y/N," he sighs, giving you a look full of remorse.
"No. I don't want any bullshit," you snap, "Did you or did you not know something was wrong before the concert? Is that why you have been giving me a hard time all day?" You start to put the puzzle pieces together, the day replaying in your head.
The overprotectiveness, the extra security, them not wanting you to go on your phone- they knew.
Minho looks to the ground, his shoulders slumping. "Look, we find out about some rumors going around online this morning, but-"
"Get out," you say, your voice tense.
His head snaps up, his remorseful eyes meeting your fiery ones. "What?"
"I said, Get. Out." Your unbroken hand aggressively points to the door.
"I'm not leaving you here alone. Let's just talk about this-"
"You had all day to talk to me about this, but now that I'm injured and traumatized you want to talk about it?" Your incredibly angry, and your words are filled with venom. "Get out, get out, get out!"
"Do you really think it's the best idea to be by yourself right now?" His eyes are filled with sorrow, his hands in dire need to reach out to you.
"If you don't leave right now, I will scream."
His watchful gaze rests on you for a couple seconds, before he finally gives in, rising to his feet. He walks toward the door. "We'll send a car to come get you when you're ready. There's security out here waiting, and your manager is out in the hall. I'll see you when you get back to the hotel."
He disappears out the door, once again leaving you alone with your thoughts. How dare they not tell you? There are threats going around online about you, and you're the last one they tell? In what world does that make any sense?
The doctor comes back in the room just a few minutes later. He's quick with putting your cast on, and he sends you on your way, requesting you stop by the front desk to sign a few documents before you go.
You follow him out the door, meeting up with your manager and security right outside the room.
After signing the paperwork, your manager leads you outside to the car that has been called for you.
Fans must've found out which hotel they took to you, and the outside of the hotel is flooded with Stay. Normally, you'd be ecstatic to see so many of them. However, you're exhausted and hurt, so you bring your hood over your head and stare at the ground, thankful for the security that surrounds you.
You climb in the back of the car, your manager following suit. "Why was I not informed about the threats online?" you question, your eyebrows furrowing in anger.
"The concert was going to go on no matter what, so we figured it'd be easier to get you out there if you didn't know about them."
Your jaw drops at her statement. "That is not fair, how can you just assume that? I had a right to know about this," you argue.
"This isn't really up for discussion. It's the way we chose to handle it, and that's that."
You're in disbelief at her careless attitude. "How did the guys find out about it then?"
"Nosy little shits," she laughs, but you're not sure how she's finding any humor in this situation. "They saw them online themselves. We practically had to threaten their contracts to get them not to tell you."
Your heart constricts at this new information. Emotions flood your system, and you're suddenly feeling incredibly guilty for your interaction with Minho in the hospital room. All the arguments between the two of you flood your mind, and remorse rushes your body.
They have just been trying to keep you safe all day. Trying to keep you off your phone, not letting you wander by yourself, the whispers behind your back. It all makes sense now. And you realize you've been a royal bitch all day to the wrong people.
You turn to look out the window for the remainder of the drive, knowing it's useless to argue with your manager. What she says goes. This doesn't mean you're not angry with her and the rest of management, though. This conversation needs to be had in a professional setting, not in the backseat of a car when you're by yourself.
Once you arrive at the hotel, your quick to jump out of the car, wanting to be away from your careless manager. However, you stand directly outside the door, patiently waiting for security to escort you to your room.
They walk you all the way up to your shared room with Seungmin, and you're not surprised to find all of them waiting for you when you open the door.
They're conversations halt, all eyes snapping to you. You walk in and set your bag down on the bed. Your eyes well up with tears for what feels like the hundredth time that day. "I'm so sorry," you cry, afraid to meet their concerned gazes. "Today has just been so overwhelming, and my manager sucks, and my back hurts, and I have been so rude to you guys all day-," your words are cut short by another sob wracking through your sore body. You sniffle some more, bringing your sleeve up to wipe at your face. "Min, I'm so sorry for kicking you out. I should've just listened to what you had to say. I'm such a horrible person."
All the guys are quick to stand, not wanting you to rile yourself up anymore. Hyunjin comes over to you first, gently guiding you to sit on the bed. Everyone else follows, all of you now gathered on the queen sized bed. "Listen," Minho starts, comforting you, "Absolutely none of this is your fault, you hear?" He pulls you down next to him, his arm coming up around your shoulders. "Today has been an awful day, and you don't need to work yourself up about how you treated us."
"Yea, but-"
"No buts, you need to rest. We are not mad at you."
"Not one bit. We love you so much, and we're so sorry you had to go through that. Are you ok? How's your wrist?" Chan asks from the edge of the bed, placing a comforting hand on your ankle.
"It hurts, but the doctor gave me some painkillers to take for the next few days. My cut didn't need stitches, but I have to keep it bandaged until it heals," you explain, your words coming out steadier than before.
Your cries eventually calm down, leaving you sniffling every now and again. Felix notices you've calmed down, and he nudges your leg, opening his arms for you. You crawl into them, relaxing into his calm and comforting embrace. The rest of them are quick to follow, creating one big group hug.
You know this situation is certainly not over. I'm sure you guys will press charges, and you'll probably have to release a statement of some kind. It seems that management and you guys have come to a silent agreement to deal with everything in the morning, and you couldn’t be more grateful for it.
~ ~ ~
Part 2
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lovebugism · 1 year
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✶ ┄ FIX IT !
summary: you thought you were over it, the whole steve-and-nancy thing. spoiler alert: you aren't. pairing: steve harrington / f!reader word count: 3.5k warning: angst. gut wrenching angst. with a sort of happy ending. a/n: i'm such a sucker for angst it's gotta be unhealthy at this point. anyway, shout out to all my angsty fic enjoyers. let's read this and cry together <3
Having four roommates and only two bathrooms was worth it if it meant getting out of Hawkins. The apartment was a quaint little thing just outside of Indianapolis — up four flights of stairs with no elevator, cracks in the walls, and a stellar view of an alleyway.
But it was nice to have a place all your own. Sharing it with all your best friends was even better. That was the dream after all, wasn’t it? And being with Steve — that was just the cherry on top of it all.
So you weren’t going to let your mean, green, and envious heart ruin the new life you and your friends were trying to build in this tiny apartment.
You didn’t even think yourself the jealous type. Not until you realized that Steve was going to live under the same roof as his ex-girlfriend. It was dumb and it was irrational and you just couldn’t shake it.
It was probably a whole lot harder for Steve than it was for you, really. Besides, it had been years since they were together. Both of them had moved on, both of them had new and blossoming relationships.
Jonathan was good to Nancy. And to you, Steve was… well he was perfect. More importantly, he was yours. 
So it really shouldn’t bother you.
And it didn’t. Not for a while. 
Not until Nancy and Jonathan broke up out of nowhere and he’d announced to all of you on movie night that he was moving out.
He said that he missed California too much, that Argyle was getting lonely all the way out there, and that he had a spare room at his place. You couldn’t tell if that was the truth or just some bullshit excuse.
Maybe both.
What made it worse is that Nancy hadn’t seemed all that upset about it. Hell, you were more sad about him leaving than she was.
She told you as much during your weekly designated wine night (the one where you and her and Robin got drunk on cheap wine, while the rest of the boys fucked off and got drunker on cheaper beer).
“It didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would,” she’d confessed with a shrug, only slightly tipsy and cheeks pink with it. “We… drifted apart, I guess. Just felt right to end it.”
You and Robin spent the rest of the night comforting her, anyway.
She loved Jonathan, everyone knew that. It sort of came with the whole shared trauma thing. She had to be at least a little bit sad that her person was gone, but she hid it away from the rest of you like it was her job.
But when the days got really bad, and she found herself missing Jonathan more than she liked, she sought refuge in Steve. Your Steve. 
And it made sense. He knew her better than the rest of you.
But it didn’t mean it hurt any less.
A sick feeling twists in your stomach when Steve accompanies the girl on a liquor store run without her having to ask. You watch with your heart in your throat when he leaves with her in the dead of night — a swirling bubble of jealousy in the pit of your chest with an ache so palpable you can taste it.
You spend the next several minutes trying not to look as sad as you feel while Eddie can’t stop debating on what the two of them might be talking about.
Nancy had been more reserved as of late, carrying a rain cloud over her as she wandered through the apartment like a ghost — he concludes they’re just going out to spill some hot goss. Robin makes him promise to never say those string of words ever again while you quietly dismiss yourself to your bedroom.
Nancy and Steve have been gone for an hour.
Lying in the dark and staring up at the textured, water-stained ceiling, you start to do the math. Fifteen minutes there, fifteen minutes back with traffic — but the streets are usually bare after nine o’clock. Either way, that leaves a half hour spent trying to choose what alcohol to splurge on.
You’ve seen Nancy try to pick out wine, she’s indecisive and a perfectionist to boot. She could spend hours dissecting each bottle to find the perfect one, if Robin wasn’t constantly over her shoulder rushing her.
Maybe that’s why Nancy had declined when the girl offered to tag along with them.
Or maybe she just wanted to be alone with Steve—
You have to physically shake that thought from your head. But even when you shut your eyes, it’s like the image of him and Nancy making out in the back of her Station Wagon is ingrained in the depths of your mind.
You curl into yourself and bathe in the depths of the dark abyss you’ve created in your bedroom, trying to see your way out of your handcrafted turmoil like a bad cold.
When Nancy and Steve return, they come cradling paper bags in their arms like babies.
Robin relieves the latter of the load in his hands and follows the darker-haired girl into the kitchen connected to the living room, no larger than a decent-sized closet.
Steve notices the lack of your presence as soon as he walks through the door. When he’d left, the three of you were pregaming — a feat that often led to Eddie breaking out his guitar and you and him singing terribly off-key to whatever was playing on the radio.
Now you’re nowhere to be found, and he feels it like a missed meal. He feels the ache of your absence like an empty stomach.
“Where’d she go?” Steve asks Eddie, who’s lounging on the couch and taking up the entire space — legs spread and arms thrown over the back.
The curly-haired boy takes a noisy sip of his nearly gone beer. Then exhales rather dramatically when he sits the can on his thigh. It leaves a damp ring on the denim. “Hey, buddy... Just blow in from stupid town?”
“…What?”
Eddie rolls his eyes, already annoyed and knowing more than he lets on. “She’s in her room, dingus.”
“She okay?” Steve wonders with furrowed brows, uncaring of the use of the stupid nickname because there’s bigger things to worry about apparently.
It wasn’t like you to miss a night of drinking. He gets momentarily fearful that you’d gotten sick while he was away, that he wasn’t around to help you if you had.
“Why don’t you ask her?” Eddie lilts with wide eyes, like it’s a bright idea that neither of them would’ve thought of otherwise.
His sarcasm makes Steve roll his eyes, but he heeds the boy’s words anyway.
Through the short hallway and the last door on the right, he finds you in the darkness of your shared bedroom, illuminated only by the orange streetlight that filters through the blinds. You're hid beneath the covers, a little lump on the mattress. 
He idles in the doorway and waits for you to react to his presence.
You don’t.
“Hey, babe,” he greets cautiously after concluding you just hadn’t heard the door squeak open upon his arrival. “You feel okay?”
You mumble something he can’t quite make out. He takes the raised infliction as an affirmative and shifts his weight on his feet because it’s unlike you to be so one-note with him.
“Well, I, uh— I bought some of that wine you like... I couldn’t remember if you liked the blackberry or blueberry, so I ended up just getting both, you know, just in case.”
“Okay,” you respond after several agonizing seconds. Your voice sounds so fragile in the still darkness. Like he didn’t already know something was wrong.
He so desperately wants to pry but chooses to err on the side of caution for now, out of fear of turning the bad, worse.
“You wanna come down and try it with me? If you don’t like it we can always go back—”
“I’m okay,” you interrupt gently, with a tone so soft and coated with so much emotion that it makes his heart sink. You’re anything but and he knows it.
“Okay,” he nods anyway with the hope that he can pull you from this funk you’d managed to fall into. “Do you, uh… Do you want me to stay in here with you?”
He hears your deep sigh and sees the way the wad of blankets rises and falls again. A telltale sign of your annoyance. He knows then that he’s overstayed his welcome.
Your voice remains quiet but loses its kindness when you tell him: “You can do whatever you want, Steve.”
He’s hurt by the way you’re so suddenly short with him, then angered because he didn’t do anything to deserve it in the first place.
“Okay, what’s wrong with you? What did I do?”
You don’t answer. You just sigh again, the same really big, dramatic one that’s more to showcase your irritation with him than anything else.
You’re more than keen to end the conversation right there, but Steve isn’t. Not when something’s eating you away from the inside out and he can’t do anything to help you because you won’t let him. 
“Babe, c’mon. I get it, alright? You’re mad at me. Just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it.”
“You can’t fix it,” you monotone, stifled beneath the covers.
“I can’t fix it?” he repeats with furrowed brows. “What do you mean, I can’t fix it?”
You use your silence as an answer, as a weapon. It’s almost worse than any silver-tongued reply you could've given him. The quiet forces him to think for himself and imagine all the things he could’ve done wrong that he can’t take back. It feels like quicksand.
Did he forgot to kiss you good morning? Of course, he didn’t — actually, he gets mad at you for forgetting — and you were golden before he left. Eddie probably said something stupid, that was likely. Or maybe Robin made a joke that upset you, that was even more likely. 
He figures it’s something in between all those. Something silly that feels like the end of the world. He can make it better. He always makes it better.
Steve lifts the lump of covers you shield yourself with and crawls beneath them with the intention of pulling you out of the void you’ve sunken into.
It’s not so comfortable, lying in bed in socks and jeans and a collared shirt, but he doesn’t need to feel good right now — you do. He’ll be content if he can just hold you in his arms for a couple of hours, the rest of the night if that’s what you need.
But he can’t even do that.
He reaches for your arm, fingers just barely trailing across the warm skin there, and you jerk away from him like he’s shocked you.
It startles him, how quick you are to avoid him. It has him jerking back too, because you’ve never denied him the opportunity to touch you. He becomes the same sort of storm cloud that you are now, because he doesn’t know what he did to deserve this. Any of it.
“Why are you doing this?” he asks you, less soft than he’d been before.
You sniffle. “I told you I didn’t want you going out alone with Nancy anymore,” you mumble, face still shoved into your pillow. The words are slightly muffled but he can hear the tears that coat your voice. 
“That’s what this is about?” he wonders, not as empathetic as you’d hoped he might be, but genuinely confused. With your back to him, you don’t see the smile pulling at his lips while he shakes his head, like it’s funny to him. “Babe, we were just getting drinks. It’s no different than you going out with Robin.”
“It’s totally different! Because I was never in love with Robin. She was never in love with me—”
“Well, I beg to differ,” he murmurs in a soft laugh.
“It’s not funny, Steve,” you retort wetly and then sniffle again. When you turn to face him, he sees for the first time what he’s done to you.
The orange of the streetlight lamp outside bathes you in a sunset shade of neon — your eyes are glassy with tears that gather at your lashes. Emotions glow at the tip of your nose and your cheeks. Your skin would be hot to the touch if he felt you now.
“Do you know how weird it is for me? To watch my boyfriend and his ex go fuck around with me?” you ask him with a scrunched nose and brows, like your trying to keep yourself from falling apart in front of him.
“It’s not like that and you know it,” Steve scolds. “She just wanted to get alcohol for tonight and had some shit to get off her chest. I mean, she’s been having a really hard time lately—”
“It’s not your job to take care of her, Steve!” you shout before you even realize you’re shouting. You take in a shuddered breath and let it out in a trembling sigh, shining eyes flitted away from him and towards the ceiling as you calm yourself down.
When you start your lament again, you’re quieter.
“You can’t just be this, like, emotional crutch for her every single time something’s wrong. She’ll just get invested in you all over again and…”
Steve watches from beside you, propped up on his elbow, as you trail off. The frown between your eyebrows deepens, a great and inquisitive crevice, while your eyes widen and your mouth falls softly agape — like you’ve discovered something in the midst of your rant.
“Is— Is that what you want?” you ask him then. “Do you, like, need her attention to feed your ego or something?”
He’s too offended by your words to tell you all the ways they aren’t true. “What? No! Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s embarrassing, Steve.”
“What is?”
“Watching you and her together!” you admit through a tightening throat. You rise from where you’d been laying down and Steve follows you, settling in front of you as you wrap your arms around your knees. “When I have to sit here, by myself, while you guys spend time alone. When she always knows what you’re up to, and I don’t—”
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes quietly, because he doesn’t know what else to say.
“—It’s not fair. She’s not your girlfriend, Steve, I am. It’s your job to take care of me, not her.”
Steve deflates like a popped balloon. His chin falls to his chest and his eyes squeeze shut at the weight of your words.
It’s like you’re reminding him that he’s supposed to be in love with you and not someone he cared for a long time ago. Like you felt the need to remind him because you thought he’d forgotten somewhere down the line.
It hurts him too. It feels like you’ve got his heart in your hands and you're wringing it in your grip.
“You’re right,” Steve concedes with a nod. “I just... I guess, I never thought about it like that.”
He feels the same way, too, sometimes. When you and Eddie go all buddy-buddy mode and want to spend time together.
When you’re out all night with him at band practice. When you’re attached at the hip and having sleepovers in his room to talk about everything and nothing for hours until you fall asleep when the sun rises. When you both come down at one in the afternoon the next day for breakfast, giggling about the thing you said the night before.
It makes him feel like he’s missing out. Like you’re sharing parts of yourself with someone else and he isn’t allowed to see it.
And sometimes he gets irrational — keeps himself up all night as he imagines you and Eddie making out on his floor after going through all his new tapes or fucking in his unmade bed while he keeps a hand on your mouth to keep you quiet.
Steve concocts waking nightmares for himself whenever you’re not beside him.
But even then, it’s different. Because he used to do all that shit with Nancy. They fell in love, made out for hours because they didn’t want to stop feeling each other, had sex on a twin-sized bed and tried to keep from falling out of it while they did.
You’d never done that shit with Eddie — or with anyone you’re now sharing a home with. Besides Steve.
Because he’s yours now. And you’re his.
But you can’t stop thinking about how he used to be Nancy’s too.
“I don’t need you to tell me that I’m right,” you murmur with the childlike shake of your head, slow and lazy, as you wipe your wet cheek on your shoulder. “I need you to do something about it— I needed you to do something about it a long time ago.”
“I will, okay? I will. I promise. I’ll fix it,” Steve assures you quickly, with wide and hopeful eyes and a nodding head that makes his hair flop against his forehead.
He can see you losing hope in front of him, like a flame going slowly out. You’re slipping away. He keeps fighting to keep a hold of you.
“No.”
“…No?”
“You can’t,” you sniffle. “You can’t fix it.”
“Baby—”
“It’s not fair. To either of us,” you tell him, looking at him through clumped together lashes and heavy, sparkling eyes. “And it’s not your fault, okay? But I can’t keep feeling this like. It’s not healthy— this isn’t… this is what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like. It shouldn’t feel like this.”
Steve blinks back stinging tears. He brings his hand to his face and rubs the back of it against his burning nose. He feels a bit like you do now, hopeless. You’re slipping away and he is too and you both just keep on slipping, just going going going.
“You’re not even—” he clears his throat when his voice breaks halfway through. “You’re not even gonna let me try?”
You shrug weakly. Tears burn as they gather at your waterline. You revel in the sting because it’s better than the hole ripping through your chest.
“I don’t know. I think… I think it’s too late.”
“Why would you say that?” Steve agonizes with the shake of his head, looking like a wounded puppy as he gaze at you with brown eyes full of hurt. “Don’t say that. Don’t.”
“Steve—”
“No,” he interjects firmly, stopping the spiral before it can start again.
He positions himself so he’s sitting further ahead of you and holds your arms in his numbing hands, ducking down to catch your gaze when you try to look away from him.
“I love you, okay? I’m an idiot and I’m sorry and I'm stupid, alright? I wasn’t thinking. But we can’t just… It’s not too late. I can fix this. I promise I can fix this.”
Your chest aches at his plea, at the way he still doesn’t understand.
It’s not his fault you feel this way, not entirely. It’s not anyone’s fault and that’s what’s so scary. There’s no one to blame the pain on, no root to cut out and put an end to it. You’re frightened that it’s always going to be there, constantly in the way, forbidding either of you from ever moving on.
“Steve...” you murmur through tears while the boy gathers you in his arms. You try to stop him but your voice gets caught in your throat halfway through. Because you don’t want him to stop. Not ever.
He nurses you into his velvet hold, wrapping a pair of strong arms around you to cage you against him. He presses his nose into your temple while he rocks you back and forth. “I promise. Everything’s okay. I’ll fix it.”
He repeats that like a mantra while you keep your head pressed against his chest — everything’s gonna be okay, I can fix it, I love you.
It’s a promise. One that he’d rather die than break. 
You stay there, curled against his chest, while dark feelings ebb and flow in a constant and bitter cycle.
You hope he’s right. That these big feelings are just big stupid feelings that'll pass come the pink and blue sunrise. That everything really is going to be okay and that he really can fix it. 
Because even now, all hopeless and full of doom and gloom, you feel soothed in his hold. You’ve never felt safer anywhere else. You’ve built a home in the peace of Steve’s arms and you want to keep on living in them.
“I’m gonna make it better,” he whispers against the crown of your head. If you’ll let me.
He feels you nod lazily against him. “Okay.”
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britany1997 · 2 months
Text
Fate Yields For No One
Chapter Four
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Were you wondering what the boys were doing while reader and Maria were bonding at the video store those two weeks? Wonder no more! Here’s what they were up to lol
I strongly recommend going back to at least read chapter 3 before reading this one, as some of the scenes will be the same, but from Paul’s perspective:)
Poly Lost Boys x Max’s Daughter Reader
FYFNO Masterlist
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California, 1986
Paul’s eyes widened as he realized who you were to him. You wished you could have stopped the word that fell from his lips.
“Mine.”
Paul stared at you, his eyes raking up and down, taking you in. God you were beautiful, the others would love you. As his shock wore off, Paul felt a giddy feeling bubbling in his chest.
He had a million questions to ask you. Your favorite food, your favorite color, your favorite band. Paul had to know anything and everything. (Even if you liked Tiffany or something, he could get over it…eventually.)
As your lips parted, Paul prepared himself to be enchanted by whatever honeyed words you’d speak to him. He reached forward to caress your cheek.
Instead of leaning into the touch as he’d expected you to, you recoiled. His brow furrowed.
“Oh my god I totally forgot I have to go stock things in the back, so nice to meet you, bye!” He heard you blurt out before you moved away from him.
There were few times in Paul’s life when he was actually rendered speechless. This was one of them.
Paul’s brow furrowed, “what?” He whispered as he moved to stand in front of the desk’s swinging door you’d been headed for. Surely he’d misunderstood (wouldn’t be the first time), you had to at least talk this out.
He watched your face twist into a glare, “you’re in my way…” you bit out at him.
Paul’s confusion turned to frustration. “What?!” He repeated, “but we’re…I mean we-” he stumbled over his words, desperate and utterly flabbergasted.
“I know what we are,” you told him, “and I don’t care. So can you please move aside so I can do my job?”
Paul’s jaw dropped.
You…didn’t want him? Didn’t want a mate? Someone who’d love you unconditionally for eternity? Who’d do anything for you? God what was wrong with you?
He stumbled a bit as you pushed past him. “Hey!” He called after you, his ego more bruised than it’d ever been.
“This isn’t over you know,” he promised, resolved to win your heart, even if he had to recruit some…reinforcements.
You scoffed, oblivious to Paul’s plotting. “Seems like it is,” you replied before slipping into the back of the video store.
“What the fuck just happened,” Paul murmured to himself as he rubbed his forehead.
Maria whistled “tough break Paulie.” She bumped him with her hip before she went back to returning DVDs.
Paul scoffed. She didn’t know the half of it. “I gotta go Maria,” he muttered, stalking off with his tail between his legs.
She snickered softly as she watched him go.
Paul shook his head, he was gonna be in for one long conversation when he got back to the cave.
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Paul slunk across the boardwalk, hands in his pockets, as he made his way back to his bike.
His head nodded along to the beat of the music playing over the speakers. Paul started to tap out a four count on his thigh as he walked and hummed.
“Are you going to that bonfire Friday?” “I dunno, is Jason gonna be there?” “Ugh, probably” Paul huffed a laugh as he eavesdropped on the vapid boardwalk talk.
A bonfire on Friday did sound fun though. Should he and the guys throw a party? Who would they even invite? Maria? Maria, who worked at the video store with his new mate. He sighed. What a mess.
As he walked, his mind wandered to her pretty face. He wished she would have let him touch her. She looked so soft. He just wanted to hold her. He could be gentle!
He huffed.
Didn’t she realize he was hers? Didn’t she know he’d do anything for her? He’d be anything she needed? He’d probably even cut his hair for her if she asked. As long as she let him hold a memorial service after.
She was pretty, and soft (probably), witty and fiery, and she was right there at the video shop and she didn’t even want him. How fucked was that.
Paul frowned as he finally reached his bike, looking back over his shoulder in the shop’s direction. It’d been a while since he’d felt that hollow longing feeling of being alone.
But he wasn’t alone, not anymore. And whatever had happened back there, he and his boys were gonna fix it, he knew they would.
Paul revved his engine with renewed determination. ‘Just wait pretty girl,’ he thought, ‘cause we’re comin back for ya’
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When Paul arrived at the cave, each of the boys were too immersed in their own activities to notice.
On the couch, Dwayne was two-hundred and twelve pages into his thirty-first reread of Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov and from the way Dwayne was hunched over the book, quite literally on the edge of his seat with his brow furrowed, Paul could tell it was just starting to get good.
Though Paul could barely think over the harsh whirring sound of Marko’s sewing machine. He’d been occupied with making patch-work vests and skirts lately to expand his wardrobe. And while Paul appreciated having some extra pieces around he could borrow, after weeks of hyper fixated, non-stop sewing, the sound was worse than nails on a chalkboard.
David’s constant foot tapping didn’t help either. He was perched in his wheelchair throne, seemingly reviewing some ancient documents. By the way he was squinting and underlying, it seemed to be pretty important stuff.
But none of this was as important as what Paul had to tell them. He cleared his throat pointedly.
The whirring of the sewing machine slowed before coming to a stop, Dwayne looked up from his book expectantly, and a little annoyed, David continued his work, ignoring Paul entirely. “I’m calling a meeting,” Paul stated confidently.
“You don’t have the authority to call a meeting,” David said without looking up from his papers, “only Dwayne and I do.”
Paul wondered if he could explode David with his mind if he tried hard enough. How would he know if he never tried?
“Well it’s an emergency,” Paul gritted.
David met Paul’s frustration with a mocking pout. “Dealer’s out of the good stuff again Paulie? Tragic.” He turned back to his papers.
Dwayne seemed to sense Paul’s desperation, “what’s wrong Paul?” he asked.
“I have another mate,” he said hesitantly, “which means that you guys probably do to.”
David stilled at the same time Marko gasped, the curly haired vampires lips curling up into a bright smile.
“What are they like? Are they nice? Are they funny? Are they hot?” The shorter vamp bombarded Paul with questions, making him cringe.
Dwayne frowned, “Paul…” he began gently, “why aren’t they here with you?”
A broken look crossed Paul’s face, “she…doesn’t want me.”
Marko’s excitement was extinguished as he came to Paul’s side, lacing their fingers together. Dwayne softened, quietly reflecting on Paul’s words. David frowned.
“What do you mean she doesn’t want you?” he narrowed his eyes.
“Exactly what I said dude,” Paul strained, “she said she didn’t care!”
David leaned back, unconvinced. “Tell us exactly what happened, start to finish.”
Paul nodded and painfully recounted every moment from the excitement of meeting you, to the pain of watching you leave as he picked up his jaw from the floor.
David stroked his chin, “are you sure she’s a vampire? Human mates are rare, but they’re not unheard of,” he mused.
Paul scoffed, “duh she’s a vampire! She said, ‘I know what we are, and I don’t care.’ How would she know we were mates if she wasn’t a vampire?” He threw his hands up in frustration.
“Did she say, ‘I know what we are,’ or did she say, ‘I know what you are,’” Dwayne chimed in.
Paul scratched his head, what did she say? He’d been talking about what they were, but had she? He couldn’t quite remember. “She could have been saying ‘I know what you are,’” he decided.
David’s hands clapped together, “so she’s human, but she knows we’re vampires, or at least that you are Paul. Unsurprising, you and Marko have the combined subtlety of an airhorn at the opera,” Paul rolled his eyes. “That’s an easy enough fix,” David reasoned.
“Makes more sense too,” Marko added. “If she ran off, it was probably because she was scared. If I was a human I wouldn’t wanna fuck around with us to get bit either.”
“Why don’t we give her some time,” Dwayne suggested, “prove we’re not going to rush into the video store and drag her out to hurt her or anything. We could give her some space to calm down from her confrontation with Paul, and then we can all go meet her together.”
The boys nodded slowly, considering Dwayne’s plan.
“And,” Dwayne added, “if she’s human, we all need to be on our absolutely best behavior,” he shot a pointed glance at David.
David rolled his eyes, “I’d teach her to be on her best behavior,” he mumbled.
Dwayne sighed. “Let’s just give it two weeks, then we’ll go check in on her,” he paused his voice taking on a gentle tone once more, “I think we could all take some time to cool off.”
Paul tensed at that last part, but he knew Dwayne was right. You were a human and you didn’t understand. You couldn’t! They’d have to show you, go slow, ease you into things, be gentle…you were basically made of glass after all.
He sighed, ‘two weeks,’ he thought, ‘I can do two weeks.’
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He could not do two weeks.
Not gracefully at least.
By the end of those two weeks, Paul was practically feral. The second the Sun began to fade into the horizon, Paul was awake and attempting to drag David out of the cave.
As eager to meet you as they were, the boys had grown tired of Paul’s impatience.
Dwayne’s evenings consistently began and ended with “has it been two weeks yet?” The dark haired vampire had come so close to just buying Paul a damn calendar.
Marko had had to stick to Paul like glue to stop him from wandering off to the video store every night. On two unfortunate occasions, Marko AND David had to drag him back to the cave to stop him was barging in to talk to you. Paul was like a dog with a bone when he wanted something, and he wanted you bad.
But Dwayne has assured him last night that today was the day, and Paul was chomping at the bit. “Let’s go,” he groaned, annoyed and excited.
“Paul.” Dwayne chastised.
“Dwayne.” Paul mocked.
“Paul,” it was too early for this shit. “I know you want to see her, we all do,” Dwayne reminded him. “But I think we should wait until closing.”
“What?!” Paul huffed, “I’ve been waiting two weeks! Now we gotta wait longer? No way man!”
“Paul listen,” David groaned, “we can’t have a long, intensive conversation with her about vampire mates with random human customers running around, get it? It’s a private conversation.”
Marko nodded in agreement, “it’s doesn’t seem fair to drop all of that on her while she’s still at work either,” he added, “it’s better if we get ‘er as she’s leaving.”
Paul rolled his eyes, “whatever, I bet Fishy’s on my side.” He grumbled as he stalked off to his room.
“You think we should invest in one of those backpack leashes for him?” Marko asked, only half joking.
David scoffed a laugh, “don’t tempt me.”
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When closing time finally came, Paul’s eagerness had wavered. What if they explained everything and you still weren’t on board? Humans had tons of reasons to fear vampires after all, you might want nothing to do with them.
He shuddered at the thought.
He looked to his left to see Marko biting his thumb, equally nervous.
“A human mate,” he muttered under his breath, “what are the odds.”
David rolled his eyes, “if she’s a human I can use my thrall, why are you idiots so worried.”
Paul and Marko shot him dirty looks, but Dwayne placed a hand on his shoulder. As tough as David liked to pretend to be sometimes, Dwayne knew he was nervous too.
“No use waiting any longer,” the dark haired vampire reasoned, “c’mon.”
Dwayne lead the way, pushing the door to the video store open and letting the bell ring softly as the other boys filed in behind him.
The vampires maneuvered to the desk together, passing through aisles they’d walked through a million times over.
The silence was deafening as the boys’ thoughts whirled with what they’d say to you. How they’d explain the significance of vampire mates to a mere human.
Dwayne sighed, they probably had nothing to worry about. Even as a human, there’d still be a pull for you. And he could work with a pull, no matter how small.
He’d show you, he decided. Show you how amazing it could be to be cared for, to be protected. He’d treat you like a princess, he’d worship you if you let him.
God you must be his if he was already thinking this way. The tug at his heart grew stronger and strongernwith every step. If you only knew the effect you had on him, on them all. If you only knew you could have him wrapped around your finger.
When the boys finally reached the front desk, Dwayne’s musings were shattered by the vision of your tongue down Maria’s throat.
He watched as David’s jaw dropped when he was met with the sight of one of your hands tangled in Maria’s curly locks, the other caressing her hip.
He’d felt it, and by the looks of it, David and Marko had too. You were theirs, but you were tangled in Maria’s embrace.
The boys were too stunned to speak.
Until Paul abruptly broke the silence with a resounding “what the fuck.”
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elliespeach · 10 months
Text
tear you apart part two | ellie williams
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pairing ellie wiliams x fem reader synopsis ellie owns her own vinyl store and the day you wander in changes both of your lives forever. she quickly becomes infatuated with you, desperate for your love that she believes is meant to be. when things in your life begin to spiral, ellie is there to catch you, but you'd never suspect she was the reason you fell in the first place. wordcount: 3.8k warnings: stalking both cyber and in person, ellie is obsessive, manipulative, a gaslighter, a pervert lowkey, possessive and easily jealous, shes also so delusional like top tier delulu, shes based off joe goldberg so i mean put the pieces together. this is all from her perspective, most if not all of the inner monologue is ellie's thoughts about you, the italics is verbatim what she is thinking in that very moment if that makes sense. like joe, all of her actions are justified in her mind, and she doesn't see anything wrong with them. reader has a dysfunctional family. pls lmk if i am missing something! authors note: obsessive ellie nation RISE, bit of a twist in this one hope shes yummy!!! i have plans i can not share w you yet but i am so hype for the next part, yall should be too, anyway... happy reading
ellie sat in the corner of the bar waiting for you and your friends to show up. she had gotten here way too early, but it gave her time to canvas the bar. the bartenders were swamped with orders, the band playing on the small stage were taking a brief intermission– which ellie was grateful for because she didn’t see the appeal. it was quite crowded, working in ellie’s favor. while she waited for you, her fingers were dancing over her phone any second she got. 
firstly, she checked in on you. no instagram posts, stories, twitter updates, nothing to indicate you were going out. finally taking steps to protect yourself, good girl. then, she set her focus on finding this woman. she copy and pasted the phone number into google, loading…loading…loading… god this wifi fucking sucks…
when the circle of death vanished, nothing came of the phone number. the white pages had nothing to report on, the links were dead ends and ellie sat back in her chair with a huff, annoyed by the anonymity of this woman. her thoughts were interrupted when she saw the door to the bar open and your friends and you strolled in. she slouched over, bringing her head down but her eyes remained fixed on you. shauna was the last one to come through the door, but she quickly brought herself to the front of the group and sat you all down at a table nearly across the bar. 
ellie rolled her eyes, knowing she would have to move to get closer. so she did, keeping her head down as she went through the small crowd to the other end of the bar. from this seat, your back was turned from her and she felt a little disappointed that she couldn’t see your face, but decided it was for the better. shauna immediately started to order drinks, a round of shots and margaritas on top of it. whats the occasion? 
she had to focus real hard, but she was able to make out the conversation happening. 
“okay, okay, but seriously, i have something to tell you guys,” shauna started to speak as the waiter was placing their drinks down at the table. 
“god, you’re pregnant!” dina shouted to the table, and ellie could hear your laugh clear as day. the same laugh that was used for her just two weeks ago. god, how she missed you. 
shauna scoffed, “i’m not pregnant!” 
then you chimed in, your voice sounding sweet as ever over the rowdiness of the bar, “then whats so important? should i down this shot beforehand?” you playfully picked up the shot from the table, ready to take it and ellie’s eyes didn’t leave you for a second. 
shauna gracefully pushed your hand down, the shot back on the table and she spoke again, “i’m moving to california at the end of summer,”
the mood at the table became somber at her words, the girls looking around to each other. “sorry, what?” cat spoke up, sipping her margarita. 
ellie smirked, taking a sip of her own drink. not a bad idea, shauna. sure, she knew you would be upset and she was prepared to be there for you to get over losing your best friend, but in time you’ll realize that shauna was never your friend to begin with, she just liked having you around to boost her up. 
“like your whole family? or just you?” you asked her, and when shauna replied saying her whole family, your head snapped back and ellie could see that the shot glass you had in your hands was now empty. 
“why?” cat spoke again, glancing around the table to you and dina. 
“nevermind on why, i just want to have a good night! let’s get drunk–” she called over the waiter with a snap of her fingers, classy. her eyes met the waiters and then went to you, “another shot for my friend.” 
“give me two, please,” you spoke kindly to the waiter, and ellie’s grip on her own drink tightened. no way shauna leaving was upsetting you this much? how could it? ellie reminded herself that you had been friends with her for years, and even despite shauna being the way she is, she’s still your best friend. she wanted to give you a hug, tell you that it was for the better, but she knew she couldn’t. at least, not right now. 
the bartender took ellie out of her gaze, “another one?” he said, pointing to her empty glass. ellie shook her head no, if you were going to get plastered, she needed to make sure she was okay to watch over you. the band started to play again and it rang in ellie’s ears, making it difficult to hear the conversation at the table. 
the waiter brought the shots over, and everyone took them almost instantly. using their margaritas as a chaser, ellie’s eyes rolled again. the next thirty minutes was her just keeping an eye on you while you continued to get more and more drunk. you mumbled out that you had to “break the seal.” and you got up and stumbled over to the bathroom door. ellie could see everything from her seat, so instead of blowing her cover she stayed in the bar chair. 
ellie wasn’t a girls girl by any means, but she knew that once someone in the group walked away, the shit talking would commence. you had barely opened the door to the bathroom when shauna started. shauna, out of everyone. shes not your friend. “shes taking it kinda hard, isnt she?” 
“i’ve seen her more drunk that this.” dina laughed, keeping her voice low as if you could hear her. 
“oh yeah, the night she nearly got hit by that cab walking back to her apartment was the drunkest i’ve seen her,” cat laughed with dina, and shauna stayed neutral. 
“no but like, me leaving, shes taking it kind of hard, right?” 
dina looked to cat, then back to shauna, “i mean, yeah i guess. you’re her best friend.” 
is that a smile, shauna?
“i hate to be the one making her feel like that,” shauna pouted, now seeking the attention of her other friends. 
“no, no, it’s not your fault–” dina gushed. 
“yeah, it’s like, thats on her, you know? you can’t control how anyone feels except for you.” cat said softly, placing an arm on shauna’s shoulder. 
jesus christ, the therapy words. where did you people come from? 
before they could continue talking, you returned from the bathroom, bumping into the table lightly before sitting down. “another shot?” you asked them, seeing their drinks were empty. you had at least double the shots they’ve taken, no, no more shots. tell her no. 
“yes!” shauna said enthusiastically, ordering more for the table. when they arrived they were gone within seconds. ellie was finding it hard to hold back, she wanted to take you by the arm and walk you home herself. though, it seemed with every shot you took, your mood brightened. you were laughing, loudly, and making jokes with your friends. it seemed like you had completely forgotten about the departure of your best friend. ellie was happy you weren’t upset anymore, but the level of drunk you were worried her. 
that's until someone was standing behind shauna, and when ellie’s eyes wandered up to see who it was, she almost choked on her spit but quickly repressed it. it was the older woman and she was looking directly into your eyes, your laughter had subsided from the previous joke and you went silent, crossing your arms and shifting in your seat. 
the woman's eyes left yours quickly, and she placed a hand on shauna’s shoulder. shauna turned around, seeing the woman and got up from her seat, embracing her in a hug. “hey mom! what’re you doing here?”
mom? you’re fucking your best friends mom? ellie nearly fell off her high top seat, for the first time that night she took her eyes off of you, turning towards the bar just to take it all in. no, no, you’re a sweetheart. you wouldn’t do that, would you? ellie’s mind was racing, but her image of you never faltered in her mind because she quickly figured out just what was going on. 
your own parents leave you to move across the country and your best friend lets you move into her place until you get your own. she recalls one of your tweets she stumbled upon from a year ago,  
@yndoesartstuff: tfw ur moving into ur besties childhood home bc ur own parents dont want u
  —— @shuanamavisxx: my parents want u! adopted child frfr
yeah, they want you alright… 
shauna’s mom must have been very supportive of you, for you to fall for her trap anyway. that kind of attention from a mother must have felt good, and ellie decided that shuana’s mom knew what she was doing. prying on your own neglectful mommy issues to get into your pants. shes a fucking predator. ellie knew you were a grown woman, but shauna’s mom was clearly in her fifties, thats being nice, and she found it fucking disgusting that her mom would do that to you. and then to have the audacity to make you so dependant on her that you beg her for attention over texts. 
ellie was seething. 
and apparently so were you, because you quickly got up from the table, excusing yourself with a quick, “be right back!” trying to sound as chipper as possible, but ellie knew. 
you came up to the bar and ellie swiftly lowered her head into her phone. you were too drunk to notice, but ellie heard you order yourself yet another shot. she almost said no outloud, but refrained herself, feeling the heat in her body build up. but the bartender had her back, “you're cut off. here's a water.” he handed you a cold glass of water and your eyes rolled. 
“pleasseeee? im not even that drunk!” you fired back, pushing the water back towards him. he looked you up and down, and you smiled at him, holding up just one finger and mouthing the word please over and over again. the bartender caved, pouring you another shot. 
what a fucking idiot. 
he gave you the shot, which you took almost instantly. you stumbled back to the table with your friends, shauna’s mom still there making conversation. and ellie turned to the bartender, “are you blind? shes wasted,” 
the guy shrugged, “shes a good tipper.” 
ellie scoffed, turning her attention back to the table. 
“so wait mom, why are you here?” shauna asked, sitting back down in her seat. 
“i’m actually on a date,” her mom smiled, making quick eye contact with you before doing so with dina and cat to not seem suspicious. she pointed to a table near the band and when ellie looked, it was a man that sat at the table. 
“its not a date if you’re married,” shauna rolled her eyes, a laugh slipping out with her words. she turned and faced the man at the table, waving passionately at who ellie assumed to be her father. ellie was sick just watching, and she couldn’t imagine how you felt. she’s just taunting you at this point. 
ellie could see you shifting uncomfortably in your seat and soon enough you pulled out your phone. since your back was to her, ellie could see your screen was blank, but you muttered, “sorry gotta take this guys,” before you got up and left the bar, putting the phone up to your ears as if you were actually on the phone.
they let you leave without a second thought. don't they see how drunk you are? she was on her feet, pulling her wallet out of her pocket to put a twenty on the counter before storming out of the bar herself. she glanced around once she was outside, it had grown dark but she could spot you from a mile away. 
you were trying to wave down a cab, way too close to the road for her liking. you were crying too, and ellie’s heart sank at the sight. while waving down a cab, you checked your phone, the bright screen nearly blinding you as you did but your fingers were quick to type. your feet kept going as you typed to try and keep yourself up right, you were swaying and teetering all around the sidewalk. all of the cabs went past you, not wanting to pick up a drunk girl who might vomit in their car. your phone fell out of your hands as you were trying to type, landing harshly on the sidewalk and ellie stepped forward just a bit, ready to lie her way out of how she came to find you like this. 
as you bent down to pick up your phone, a man got it before you could. he held it out for you and as you went to reach for it, he pulled it away at the last second. because of course he did. there was only about five seconds of back and forth between you and this guy before ellie’s feet started to jog over to you. she heard the tail of the conversation as she approached. 
“...i’ll give it back if you agree to have drinks with me.” he spoke in a ragged voice, he was head to toe in dirt and grim. typical male, its disgusting. you didn’t deserve this.
“no, just give me my phone!” you shouted back at him, words slurred to oblivion. 
ellie didn’t waste a second. “she said no, man.” she came to your side, putting her arm in front of you to block him. she saw you stare at her out of the corner of her eye but she kept her focus on the guy. 
“a guy can’t try?” he said with a small laugh, still holding your phone out of reach. 
“if shes saying no, then take the fucking hint.” ellie could feel herself getting angier, the heat in her body rising to her cheeks and her one fist balled up by her side. she doesn’t want to think about what would have happened if she wasn’t here, but her mind plagues her with it. im your hero. and this guy is about to fucking die. 
“maybe i’ll keep it, sell it for some money,” he taunted, examining the phone like a douchebag. ellie had it under control, she knew this guy would cave eventually, at least one way or another. but you had other plans and when you tried to reach for the phone in his hands he slapped your arm away. 
ellie fully stepped in front of you, her jaw tightening as she did, and the guy continued to run his mouth. “what? this your fucking bitch or something?” 
she didn’t even think about it, her fist coming up strong and squaring this guy in his nose. he stumbled back, dropping your phone to the sidewalk yet again. she shook her fist in pain as you quickly grabbed your phone from the ground. his nose was bleeding and he was clinging to it like he was going to die. 
you were laughing, which is the last thing ellie expected. your laughter was ringing in her ears as the guy started to get back up, very slowly. “shit, c’mon!” you laughed again, way too drunk, but you did something else ellie wasn’t expecting, you took her hand and started to run in the opposite direction. she obviously followed you, sprinting beside you down the streets of new york until it felt like a good amount of distance had passed. 
turning one last corner you both slowed to a stop, you were trying to regulate your breathing as ellie checked around the corner before turning back to you. “you okay?” 
“i’m-i’m great,” you sighed, still catching your breath. youre still drunk. way too drunk. “you look so–” 
“let me take you home, you’re drunk,” 
“i’m not drunk and i know you from somewh–” 
“you are drunk, at least let me get you a cab,” 
“the vinyl store!” 
shit. “oh, oh yeah, i remember you.” ellie stammered out, hoping your level of drunkenness would hide her stumble. 
“ellie, right?” you slurred and ellie nodded her head, “oh shit, thats what i kept forgetting to do, i need that album you recommended me!” 
ouch. if you didn’t have the day you’ve had, or better yet, the past two weeks, ellie would be more upset. was our interaction that forgettable for you? no, it couldn’t possibly be, you were flirting with me. and now you stand here telling me you forgot about me? she tells herself it’s because you’re drunk, you’d never say these things to her if you were sober. 
“come by anytime for it, it’s no biggie,” it’s not like i made sure it was perfect for you within the hour. 
“how about now?” 
“no, no the stores closed and you should get home,” ellie knew you would persist, she just wanted to see it. 
“please,” you dragged out, putting on the prettiest smile you could. “i’m not that drunk, plus i could use the pick me up.” 
ellie smiled, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small key. “you’re lucky i carry this with me,” she said with a light-hearted laugh. “it’s only a few blocks this way, can you make the walk?” 
“jesus, i am not that drunk!” you laughed along with her, starting to walk in the right direction. “look,” ellie watched as you started to walk in a straight line, arms out to keep your balance. 
you stumbled a bit, and you definitely weren’t walking in a straight line. you’re adorable. “wow, i’ve never seen anyone more sober.” ellie mocked you while you regained your balance. 
“thank you,” you replied, ignoring her sarcasm and you returned to walking normally beside her. “what a coincidence you ran into me.” 
“yeah, really weird, huh?” ellie faked a laugh, stuffing her hands in her pockets and keeping her eyes forward. 
“well, i owe you for helping me out,” you held out your phone, which was now cracked. “and for the album.” 
she shook her head, “nah, you don’t owe me anything.” 
after a few more minutes of walking the store came into sight, sitting between two large buildings, the closed sign burning red in the window. ellie pulled the key out of her pocket and started to unlock the door, with you happily standing idle behind her. 
she held the door open for you to go in first, it was dark inside and the smell of wooden boxes was pungent. but as ellie stepped in behind you and flicked on the light switch, the store came to life. “wait here, it’s in the back.” 
ellie went through the beads into her back office, searching around in her desk until she found it. it was sitting next to the red thong she had swiped from your apartment and when she pulled the vinyl from the drawer and spun around, you were right behind her. “it’s seriously creepy back here,” you took notice, looking around the small room while ellie slammed the drawer shut. 
you weren’t wrong, and that’s why ellie had asked you to stay up front. the paint had begun peeling off the walls years ago, and the room was only lit up by a bare bulb at the top of the room. “this where you keep your victims?” you joked, dropping your voice and toying with the papers on her desk. 
“not here, i got somewhere else i keep them,” ellie returned your joke, although she wasn’t exactly joking. but you don’t have to worry your pretty little head about that. “here, pink floyd’s best album at least, in my opinion.” 
you gracefully took it from her hands, examining it before looking back to her. “thanks,” anything for you. anything. 
you both wandered out of the back of the store, and ellie could sense that shauna’s mom was still plaguing your thoughts. you had gone quiet, staring longingly at the album in your hands. “you wanna tell me why you were so upset before?” she asked casually, flicking off the light in the back room. 
you sighed, “i’m a mess, that’s all.”  you leaned against the counter and ellie positioned herself behind it, just like how we met. 
ellie didn’t mind that you wouldn’t open up to her, to be fair you both were still basically strangers. strangers that flirt. strangers that save each other from themselves. 
“relationships suck,” 
“how’d you know it was about that?” 
ellie blinked, think, idiot, think. “well i mean, you got wasted and you were crying. i kinda just took a guess,” 
“you got me there,” you laughed, taking in a deep breath. “people never change, i can’t seem to get that through my head.” 
“the right people will,” was all ellie replied with, a small smile appearing on her face. 
“yeah, yeah you’re right.” there was silence for a moment as you both held eye contact before you broke away with an embarrassed smile. 
“you deserve better than whatever this asshole is putting you through, you know that?” 
“you don’t know me,” you said shyly, the drunkenness wearing off. “i could be horrible and deserve it.” 
“i highly doubt that,” ellie knew what you were thinking, if she only knew i was fucking my best friends mom. ellie didn’t care, she knew who you were. if it wasn’t for that borderline predator, you wouldn’t be in this position to begin with. she wanted you regardless. she needed you regardless. 
“yeah well, thanks ellie. i should get home, like you said i’m a little drunk.” 
“a little?” ellie laughed, earning a scoff from you.
you playfully pushed her shoulder back, “i can hold my liquor, thank you very much!” 
ellie ordered you a cab to take you home, she would’ve walked you home herself but you insisted on a cab, not wanting to bother her. ellie would end up at her usual spot across the street from your place anyway, so she didn’t fight it, knowing she would see you soon. 
she glared up from the sidewalk while you shut your door behind you, pulling your cracked phone out of your pocket. it didn’t take long for you to throw it to the couch with a huff, probably an unanswered text from shauna’s mom. ellie sighed, she would have hoped your little run in with her would have lifted your mood but as you sat down on your couch, slowly starting to cry once again, she knew it was a lot deeper than you were letting on. 
you won’t be upset for much longer, i’ll make sure of it. 
-------
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ taglist: @aouiaa @kissmxcheek @mcqsx @spaceshipellie @strgrlxox @machetegirl109 @uraesthete
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writingsforwhatever · 5 months
Text
magnolia (m.s.) part 1
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part 2 part 3
summary: reader has a friends with benefits arrangement with matt (what is there to explain?)
genre: ANGST
word count: 1.4k
a/n: suggestive content? You know what to do, ladies. This is fiction.
The abrupt chill in her apartment struck her hard, wrapping around her like an icy shroud. The stark white walls defining the living room while the vibrant green accent wall provided a homey space for her little coffee bar. It wasn't just the cold; it was the haunting silence that can be heard, a clear contrast to the lively college days where laughter filled every corner of the bright, inviting space with friends.
Autumn had passed, and she found herself rummaging through Matt's old university sweaters from the depths of her closet, seeking solace in his familiar scent during these lonely, frigid days in Boston. She longed for his return, yearning for the warmth of his presence to fill the void around her.
Walking on the cold tile floors, her footsteps echoed softly as she wandered through the apartment, her eyes catching sight of the slightly tilted photo frame showcasing her and her friends from high school. It bothered her, yet she couldn't fix it herself. That was a Matthew Sturniolo chore—he knew where her toolbox was and was the only one capable of reaching it. Memories flooded back of him building a cozy nook by her large windows where she loved to read, along with the white wooden bookshelf he'd carefully chosen in some vintage shop in Cambridge, a thoughtful gift from him. She remembered him telling her that he knew she would like it as the sole reason behind his choice.
She sighed, her gaze drifting to the notebook he had left behind months ago. He had texted her about it, asking if she had seen it, and she confirmed its safe place, nestled securely within the confines of her living room's coffee table. Tomorrow's agenda included a visit to her recently married sister's place. Her plan was simple: gather the homemade cookies Matt always loved, just in time for his arrival.
Meanwhile, his absence lingered as he went on a short trip to Canada with his brothers. A friend had called her two nights ago about seeing Matt with a woman in his arms and letting her know that the girl is somewhat familiar. The familiarity of the girl struck a chord; perhaps she was someone from their college before. Despite this revelation, she remained indifferent. The timely presence of her friend during this seemed almost too coincidental. Yet, she made a conscious decision not to confront Matt about it; after all, he was entitled to date or engage in relationships with whoever he wishes.
Their dynamic was crystal clear as the sunny skies that had once bathed the University of Massachusetts where they had agreed that their relationship is nothing more than a remarkably intimate friends with benefits. This is an understanding they had solidified long ago.
Nine hours away from her by land, Matt found himself gazing at the mesmerizing skylines of Toronto, contemplating whether to reach out to her, to check in, or ask if she had followed through with her plan of delivering the freshly planted flora to his mother, just a short 10-minute drive from her place. However, he opted against it, choosing instead to listen to Chris's friends discussion about their new clothing brand.
When he returned home, she was already calling him, asking to pick her up. The beauty of her tone wrapped around his heart, infusing it with a comforting warmth. Confirming she had indeed brought the plants, and now nestled beside their sofa, a gesture his mother had kindly embraced.
She wore a short blue drop-waist dress, a cardigan draped over her arm, her smile radiant under the sun's glow. From his vantage point in the car, Matt watched her take her time descending the small brick steps of her apartment. It had been a week since he last saw her; she had ventured off to Davis, California, to visit an aunt she hadn't seen in ages, just before his trip up north.
"Look at you," he greeted her with a grin, his eyes roaming appreciatively over her entire presence as she entered his freshly cleaned black SUV. "Is that new?"
Matt's thoughtfulness was a trait she adored about him. It was as if he had committed every book and item she owned to memory. She often reminded herself to give him credit for it one of these days. And he wasn't just thoughtful; he was undeniably sweet too. His gestures, both big and small, resonated deeply—like carving out a cute little space for her plants or surprising her with a spatula simply because he knew it would complement her assortment of black kitchenware.
"Do you like it?" Her smile gleamed, greeting him with a subtle kiss on his cheeks.
"I absolutely love it."
"Thank you. Got it from that newly opened shop down the street. A lovely grandmother was selling it—really sweet lady," she shared.
Matt chuckled at her detailed story. His smile never wavering, her perfume engulfing him wholy, the smell of lazy Sunday mornings, soft skin, and fresh linen—just the way he liked it. "You bought it because she seemed sweet?"
"Not exactly. I got it because it's your favorite color," she said casually, making him raise his eyebrows. Glancing briefly at her and then back to the road, his eyes met hers. "Oh, really?" he teased lightly.
Matt sensed her slight withdrawal at his tone, her revelation perhaps making her uncomfortable, yet it was exactly what he wanted, everything he yearned to hear, and more.
"Uh-huh," she replied, shifting her gaze out the window. "Anyway, how was Canada?"
She was good at this game; skilled at cutting the conversation off faster than you can snap your fingers.
"It was okay. Nick and Chris didn't like Tim Hortons," he chuckled at the memory of Nick's expression.
"Expected," she replied, shaking her head. "Did you see Chris's friends? What were their names again?"
"John and Sam. They seemed intrigued by Chris's new releases and ideas, so it's a good sign for him."
"Ah, that sounds promising," she agreed with a nod. Sneaking another glance at him, she ventured, "Did you meet anyone else?"
It was a simple question, yet she felt herself tiptoeing over an invisible line, feeling an odd tug at her heart as she admired him, bathed in the soft, golden glow of the setting sun.
Matt took a moment, eventually settling on a simple "No," choosing not to mention the woman that occupied his bed for a night. He didn't want to risk spoiling the moment; it already felt perfect when he saw her smiling and walking out the door earlier. He knew she would ask more if he said yes, but he also knew how awkward it would become. It would lead to an uncomfortable conversation, especially given her reluctance to delve into his intimate details with other people.
She never wanted to hear about where he learned a new position or style in bed, even though he sensed she was curious and a little bit hurt. He could feel it in the subtle withdrawal of her body between the sheets and the shift in the mood between them. Similarly, he refrained from asking about the oversized shirts, far larger than her size that he spotted one time in her laundry basket while he helped with her chores. It was not his.
They had learned to navigate this arrangement over the years smoothly. Their shenanigans with other people aren’t crazy but they both know it happens.
He missed her so much during his time in Canada, which led him to talk to the brunette at the bar. To his surprise, she was from their old school, a friend of a friend, now living up north. Everything about the encounter seemed hazy, the way that the woman talked and acted reminded him of her. She was all he could think of, day and night, night and day. It felt like ages since they had seen each other, ever since she visited California and him for Toronto.
Matt reached a breaking point with their casual arrangement. It had become too much for him especially when he saw the girl collecting her clothes on the ground that morning. That same day, after he calmed down and talked it out with Nick and Chris, he felt the urge to call her and apologize, but he couldn't pinpoint exactly what for—they were not officially together.
As he sat on the plane, heading back to Boston, he made a firm decision. He was determined to put a label on their relationship and ask her to be his girlfriend.
She nodded in response, pushing aside the ache in her heart caused by his lie. Yet, she silently thanked him for his discretion, grateful that he hadn't mentioned it—she preferred not knowing.
"Okay. Where did you say you wanted to take me again?"
~
special mention to my bestie @querenciasturniolo lol thanks for always supporting me mwa
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greenorangevioletgrass · 11 months
Text
given the circumstances (part 1) | b.r.b.
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pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x actress!reader
summary: your relationship with Bradley goes from 0 to 100 after a little happy accident. [Part of “The Actress & The Aviator” universe]
word count: 5.9k
Warnings: established relationship, language, pregnancy, mention of vomit/nausea, accidental pregnancy, fluff, smut [unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, daddy kink, hint of mommy kink?, breeding kink, size kink, creampie]
notes: they’re back babeyyyy! This is set about 1.5 years after the events in “It’s Classified”, and it fills in the gap of the blurbs I did a while ago. But you don’t have to read it first, this can be read as a standalone. I have missed writing for them so much, and I hope you enjoy reading this! <3
✨ follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass to get notified for my latest words <3 happy reading and please reblog if you liked it! ✨
PART ONE
You’ve been New York-bound for six whole months, doing two shows on Broadway back-to-back. Bradley came to visit you for your musical’s opening night about two months in (and again for your second show, a modern take of Romeo & Juliet), but with your shows and his sudden deployment to God knows where for three months, the time and space apart was killing you.
Which is why you’re determined to take some time off as soon as you’re done, just to be with your stupidly handsome fiance at home in the stupidly sunny California.
Your first month or so was a bliss. You would wake up to the smell of your coffee, and saunter into the kitchen where Bradley would kiss you good morning. There’s no rigid structure to your days, save for the occasional work meetings. Most of your time is spent playing house with your fiance, redecorating the house you both barely lived in before you were called off to work. Wandering around and jotting down inspirations for your new screenplay. Treating yourself to frozen yogurts and manicures. Adjusting to life in the San Clemente neighborhood of Orange County. 
(Bradley made a joke about you joining The Real Housewives soon, which earned him an elbow to the rib. Whatever. He was more Housewife material than you anyway.)
But halfway through your second month, you started feeling lethargic and just… off. You chalked it up to the weather and exhaustion, since you’ve been back to work, going to pre-production meetings for your upcoming movie. You tried to brush it off with vitamins and heartier meals, powering through for a couple of days.
“You sure you’re okay? You don’t look so good…” Bradley looks at you in concern when you shuffle into the kitchen that morning.
You’re really not, but you blatantly refuse to acknowledge that. “I’m fine. Still tired, is all. I just need some…” the coffee scent wafts in the air—the same scent that always woke you up in a good mood these past six months—and you gag. “Oh fuck.”
Bradley’s voice calling out your name sounds distant as you dash towards the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before you puke your guts out. 
“Hey…” he holds your hair back with one hand while the other rubs your back patiently. Staying calm despite his head is running a mile a minute in panic. “What happened, sweetheart?”
Everything feels like hell from your mouth to your stomach, and you groan as you pull the flush. “I have no idea. I just… I could smell the coffee and suddenly…” you motion at the toilet. “I mean, what the fuck?”
He sighs, wiping off sweat from your forehead and brushing the strands of hair sticking on it. “Maybe it’s stress?” he guesses, although they both know it’s unlikely. You’ve been keeping it relatively chill since you got here. “Or a stomach bug? Or…”
You look up to find his brown eyes softly gazing at yours, in worry and concern and… “Or what?”
He grimaces almost apologetically, and you slowly catch what he means.
“No. No way. Nuh-uh.” you shake your head so quickly, you give yourself a headache. “I’m on birth control. I’ve never missed a day…” That’s not true. As the words leave your mouth, you remember the surprise trip Bradley took you to Big Sur one weekend where you forgot both your pills and condoms…
Fuck.
“Babe… What date is it?”
He stammers for a bit, “Um, the— it’s the 18th.”
You do the mental math, counting the time gap between today and the Big Sur trip, and your last period… and your eyes widen. Your head is swirling, and so is your stomach.
“Sweetheart, do you think you might be—”
Before he can say the damned word, you feel the bile rising again. Your pointer finger lifts up in wait, as you bury your face in the toilet and throw up once more.
His heart catches. You’ve talked about having a baby, and you’ve talked about wanting to have one… some time in the future. He didn’t expect it to happen so soon. Butterflies fill his stomach at the possibility of you carrying his baby right now at this very moment, but the sight of you looking so… defeated by your own body is enough to create a nasty pit in his gut.
“What can I get for you, baby?” he asks softly, caressing the back of your neck.
There’s absolutely nothing else to empty from your stomach at this point. It’s basically just water and dry heaving, and your eyes are tearing up from the terrible sensation.
“Ginger ale from the fridge…” you manage between heavy breaths, “...and some test packs from the pharmacy, please.”
“Okay, sure. Got it. Come on, let’s get you back to bed.” He offers both his hands and gently pulls you up. If he’s nervous or excited or both, he does a pretty good job of not showing it. He pulls up some tissues from the bathroom counter and wipes your mouth without batting an eye.
He lays you down on your side, getting you all nice and comfy, before disappearing into the kitchen, returning with a can of ginger ale and a puke bucket, just in case.
“Sweetheart?” his hand is soft and warm on your cheek, and his voice even more so. “Drink up. Hope it’ll settle your stomach a little bit.”
You sit up a little, and take small sips from the can. At least it helps alleviate the bitter aftertaste in your mouth.
“I put your phone on the bedside. Call me if you need me, alright? I’m just gonna run over to CVS. Be back before you know it.” He kisses your forehead, and you make a face in protest.
“I’m gross right now!”
“I don’t care,” he chuckles. “Just rest up. Love you.”
Of course he knows what to do. Picture perfect Bradley Bradshaw, who knows how to be caring without being overbearing. Who kisses your clammy forehead after you puke your guts out. Who is literally running to the nearest drugstore to get her pregnancy test packs right now, for fuck’s sake. He’s just… perfect.
You lie back down and smush your face into the pillow, faced with the fact that you’ll never be able to live up to that. And if you can’t… how the hell are you supposed to raise a child? How the hell are you supposed to pull your weight when your fiance can already do it so well?
“Babe?” He calls out upon entering the house a few short minutes later. “I’m back. I got the…” his words trail off as he walks into the bedroom and sees you in tears. His whole features soften up as he approaches you gingerly, sitting by your side. “Hey… what’s wrong?”
You shake your head as you sit up, sniffling a little. “What are those?” You nod at the paper bag he put down on the foot of the bed, hoping it’ll divert the conversation a little. It’s a little too big for just a bunch of pregnancy test sticks.
“The tests. And some snacks I thought might help with your stomach.”
And with that, the tears burn the corners of your eyes again and your lips quiver as they fail to hold back the cries.
“How are you so good at this?!”
He pauses in confusion, and then… it dawns on him. An amused glint appears in his eyes. “Are you… crying because I got a good bedside manner?” 
Your hands fly up to your face, hiding it from view. “I’m not! Shut up!” You really were, but he didn’t have to say it like that… and your reaction only confirmed his speculation. 
Bradley chuckles. God, he loves your silly little antics. “I mean, I had to take care of my mom all through high school, so…” he shrugs sheepishly.
You wipe your tears with the back of your hand. An uncomfortable awkwardness sets in as you remember his late mother’s terminal illness, right in the peak of his high school years. “Right. Sorry.”
“It’s okay, baby. I’m just… glad I’m doing it right?” He smiles in reassurance, wiping what’s left of your tears and kissing your nose. He lifts up the ginger ale can to your hand again. “You lost a lot of fluids to make up for. Drink up some more, and we’ll do the tests, yeah?”
You glance at the paper bag again, watching him fishing around… “How many pregnancy test packs did you get?”
“I got three just to be safe.”
You want to laugh, but you probably would’ve ransacked the test kits too, if you were the one to buy it. So instead, you nod slowly, ponderously. “Three is… three is good.”
You know how these test kits work, they’re all the same, but you insist on reading the instructions pamphlet anyway. With two other test kits to spare, Bradley simply takes another copy from another box to read.
“Pee on a stick, wait for up to 5 minutes.” You put down the pamphlet on the counter. “Easy enough.” You sigh like it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. 
And it is. Every tick of the clock feels louder and farther from the one before, and you’re trying your damnedest not to look back onto the counter where the blue-tipped sticks are lined up. Inspecting it up close and see the lines that appear.
You sigh in exasperation, breaking the stilted silence. “I don’t even know what I’m hoping for, if I’m honest. Is that weird?”
He shakes his head a little. “Not at all. This is a weird situation to be in, I think it makes sense if we’re still not sure what we want.”
“Do you know what you’re hoping for?” You turn your head towards him. Maybe you’ll know it when you hear it. 
“Honestly? No.” Yes. He knows exactly what he wants. He just doesn’t want to admit it and freak you out even more. “I’m just thinking about you. About us…”
“What about us?”
“Just that… whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together.”
Bless him. It would be infuriating if you weren’t so comforted by it. Leave it to Bradley to always know just the right thing to say.
And he means every word of it too. Yes, he wants a baby with you now, but you don’t, or if it doesn’t turn out to be now, then… he can stand to wait a little more. For as long as you need.
“How long do we have left?”
Bradley joins your gaze towards the nautical clock on the wall. A silly little gag gift you gave him last Christmas, for your favorite flying seaman. 
“Three minutes and fifteen seconds…?”
“That’s about the average length of a pop song.”
He grins. “Exactly. One pop song, and we’ll find out.”
You nod. Listening to the tick, tick, tick of the clock. It drones on and on, and it seems to lull slower as it goes. Fuck Einstein and his theory of relativity. You pick the first random song that pops into your head and holds onto it for dear life. It’s your only way of keeping track of the time, at this point.
“I took my love, I took it down…” you sing under your breath, tentatively.
Bradley snorts. “It’s a good song.” That’s an understatement. He adores Fleetwood Mac, and this is the first song he learned on the guitar when he was 10.
“Climbed a mountain and I turned around…” you throw him a side-eye, a more than obvious invitation to join you.
Bradley has his eyes closed, though. But he nods along and sings along in his warm voice, “And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hill…”
“‘Til the landslide brought me down.” 
The two of you are singing with your whole chests now, belting out the chorus to drown out your nerves, forcing yourself to stay on tempo even when you feel like rushing it to the end. Right now, it’s more like Nick Miller’s nervous singing from New Girl than a beautiful bathroom jam session, but you don’t care. Bradley is vocalizing the guitar solo part like the back of his hand, playing the air guitar and everything, and you’re so, so happy that out of all the people in the world, you’re doing this with him. 
And at that moment, you realize that your worries earlier today were misguided. Yes, Bradley knows how to take care of you, and he probably knows a thing or two about babies. But he’s on your side. He’ll be pulling the weight with you. Being good parents is not a competition—you know he’ll cheer you on like he is doing right now. He knows you’ll do the same for him, too. 
Well I’ve been afraid of changes
‘cause I’ve built my life around you
But time makes you bolder, even children get older
and I’m getting older too
You didn’t notice it at first, but Bradley also softens up on the final chorus, lost in his own thoughts. He has built his life on self-preservation, protecting himself from the lies of the people he loved, and depriving him of the love and family he’s always wanted. But maybe it’s age or the wounds healing (or you swooping into his life at just the right moment)… but he’s not gonna live forever. He knows in his heart of hearts that he wants this baby. He wants this life with you.
When you ask him to look and tell you the results, he doesn’t even flinch. He just nods, kissing your temple as he reaches for all three test kits behind you. His hand shakes a little as he picks them up, though, flipping to see the indicator side. One line for negative, two for positive.
And there it is.
“They’re…” his throat catches, his face unreadable. “They’re all positive…”
“What?”
He shows you the test kits, two blue lines all across the board. His voice wavers, with tears and smiles at the same time. “We’re having a baby.”
“Oh my God…” you walk into his arms in a daze, still not sure what you’re feeling. Are you relieved because you simply know the answer, or relieved because it’s true? Are you terrified because you want it or you don’t?
Bradley cups your face with both hands, tucking unruly strands of hair behind your ear. His brown eyes brimming with tears, blurry as he admires your beauty. The mother of his child. Gosh, he can’t believe his luck.
“How do you feel, honey?”
It tugs at your heartstrings, just how soft he is. So brave, and so gentle at the same time. You have no idea what kind of parent you would be, but you know he would make a great one. “Shocked,” you admit. He nods. “Scared.” This time, you’re a bit embarrassed, but he completely empathizes. “But…” you put your hand over his, closing your eyes as you lean your cheek against his palm, so warm and soft and right, “…happy.”
***
And after two months of a relatively slow life, things are going from zero to 100 very quickly.
Bradley manages to duck out of work early and take you to the doctor that very afternoon. Everything seems to be in order. The baby is, indeed, there— a 7-week-old blob as big as a blueberry with a heartbeat.
Heartbeat.
Your heart all but stops beating when you first hear it, much stronger than you thought it would. But there it is. Strong. Alive.
There. 
“That’s… that’s our baby…” You choke up, staring at the ultrasound screen in awe. His hand brings yours to his lips for a loving kiss.
Gosh, you must’ve cried about six times that day. Bradley twice as much (He would deny it to his grave, but you kept count.)
And then, once the novelty wears off a little and the new situation sets in… the two of you get to work.
Bradley updates the entire kitchen inventory and goes into a research (or, as you like to call it, a rabbit hole) into what you can or cannot consume during your pregnancy. You’re constantly on the phone with your agent to rearrange your schedule for the next year (he sounds happy that you’re expecting, but a little inconvenienced that he has to move some things around and even cancel your involvement in a few projects). Conversation topics at mealtimes now include baby names, nursery ideas, and childcare plans.
Bradley comes home to you huddled over your laptop one evening, brows knitted in focus. The AC is cranked up to the max in the summer heat, and you’re all bundled up in the throw blanket. He wants to squee over how cute you look. He puts down the takeout bag of Pad Thai on the coffee table.
“Whatcha got there, my little cocoon?”
“Insurance, mostly.” You look up to kiss him briefly, before you continue typing on. “I’ve been talking to them all afternoon, going through the birth plans and sorting everything out. Very exciting stuff.”
“Hell yeah! Paperwork! The thrill of calling up an insurance company on a Tuesday!” Bradley counters your deadpan with an overexcited cheer, flopping himself on the spot next to you with another big kiss. “Anything I can help you with?”
“Well,” you take a thoughtful deep breath, going through your mental to-do list and realizing… you’re pretty much all set. “How about a back massage?” You give him the puppy eyes, as if you needed it in the first place.
“Copy that, Ma’am.” He throws her a lazy salute and tugs the throw blankets off of you. He starts on your shoulders, noticing the tension under your skin. “Jeez, babe. How long have you been hunched over here?”
Before you can answer him, he’s already working the knots on the base of your neck, you don’t even know you were so tense there, and you respond with a resounding moan.
He raises his eyebrows. “I’ll… take that as a compliment, then.” He grins, ever so proud that he’s eliciting these sounds out of you.
It’s not like you were playing it up or anything. You really were tense, and his hands really do feel good. And while it does make you moan and sigh blissfully, it’s hardly your fault that it makes him think of something else, right?
“Baby…” his voice sounds like a gentle warning.
“Yes?”
His hands stop. “Don’t test me.”
“Oh, okay. Would you prefer this instead?” you grunt oafishly, a piss-poor impression of him in bed, “Fuck baby, that’s it. That’s it. Good girl…”
“Hey!” he pokes his fingers to your side and cage you in his arms so you have nowhere to go. Nowhere to avoid his ministrations.
You giggle uncontrollably, squirming as he gets on top of you, peppering kisses all over your face. A mere distraction to his real tickle attacks. “Stop! Stop! Roo-roo!”
He pins your arms over your head, his cheeks tinged pink with mischief now. “Yield?”
“I’m willing to negotiate.” You flash him a coy smirk.
He frowns. Go on. 
You raise an eyebrow. You know what I’m talking about.
He raises his, mirroring you. Interesting…
You tilt your head slightly. Well?
And just like that…
“Deal.” 
Your lips meet each other halfway in a searing kiss. The pregnancy hormones are kicking in in full gear, and you’re needier. Much needier than you already are. You want Bradley all the time, in whatever form he’s in, in whatever situation you are in. He knows this, and he finds this endlessly adorable. He would poke fun at you for that…
If only he wasn’t so god-fucking-damned enamored by you for it.
He tears off your dress, reveling in the sheer sight of you. Your curves growing softer, more pronounced in the past month alone. The very subtle but steadfast roundness of your belly. Your breasts, as they grow fuller and—
“Oh…” you whimper as he rolls your nipple between your fingers.
More sensitive to the touch.
“God, you’re so beautiful like this…” he leans down to kiss you again; on the mouth, and on the neck… his tongue gliding across your collarbones, forming the shape of your mounds, one after another…
“Roo, take me to bed…”
“Or what, lose me forever?”
He grazes the outer parts of your nipple with his teeth and teasingly licks at the hardened tops, and you cry out. Such a small little thing, but you feel the sensation in your fingertips.
Bradley smiles. A soft look despite how the situation is escalating. “C’mere, baby.”
With your legs wrapped around his waist, he lifts you up off of the couch. You think it’s just to get you up on your feet, but then he’s not letting go. “You’re not seriously thinking about carrying me all the way upstairs, right?” A teasing frown sets on your face as he hauls you out of the living room.
“Are you assuming that I can’t carry my beautifully pregnant wife to our room?”
“I’m not your wife yet, you know— oh shit!” He pins you against the wall right by the stairs, one hand cradling the back of your head, ever so caring.
He mouths your neck in teasing, his breath fanning against your bare skin. “No? So I don’t have to perform my husbandly duties now, since you’re not my wife?”
It’s kind of hot… but you can’t help but make a face at his choice of words. “You need to stop watching Downton Abbey. Just say ‘fuck.’ It’s not that hard.”
He pulls away, his comeback locked and loaded and ready to go. “You can’t tell me what to do. Who are you, my wife or something?”
“Ugh!” your jaw falls open in a mock offended expression, and you smack his ass playfully.
In turn, he squeezes yours back. Tight. Possessive. There’s a shift in his gaze, a tiny sliver, a darkening—the kind that makes you feel even more naked than you already are. You look at him with unbridled lust, and he kisses you like it’s the only way he can breathe. Like he’s been holding his breath until he can get his hands on you.
And by God, you would let him have all the air you have left to give.
He carries up to the bedroom slowly, carefully, and you hold onto him tight. Reveling in how strong he’s built, all muscles and abs and everything, and how gentle he handles you as he sets you down on the edge of the bed. The epitome of a gentleman, as he kneels down between your legs.
You can feel the heat emanating from him—or is it you?— and you try to unbutton his khaki uniform. “Baby, don’t you wanna take off your…” your words die out as his chest moves out of reach. There is only his hair between your thighs.
His tongue between your folds.
“Fuuuuck…” you bite through your teeth. And once his finger joins in, you’re done for. 
You make no effort to hold back your obscene moans, but the wet sounds coming from your pussy are still louder. Your face grows hot as the noise bounces through your bedroom walls.
Bradley pulls his mouth away for a moment, smirking devilishly at you from between his legs. “Well well well… What’s got you this soaking wet, honey?”
You bite your lip, trying to keep it together. But you’re teetering dangerously closer to your release, and you whine out, “You, Daddy…”
He chuckles darkly. “Daddy’s got you all worked up, huh?” The use of the moniker has significantly increased since the news of your pregnancy, but you’re hardly complaining. It does hit different now that he’s actually gonna be one. “I’ve been home for two minutes, and you’re already dripping down your legs…” he slaps the inside of your thigh and you’re keeling into it. “So fucking cute.”
He watches you fuck yourself on his fingers and it makes you dizzy. “Please…”
“Please what?” His mustache tickles your clit, and it drives you wild. “Please stop?”
You whimper in protest.
He adds another finger into you, and raises an expectant eyebrow. This fucking asshole. A snide remark sits right at the tip of your tongue, but the only thing that comes out is,
“Please fuck me.”
He stops, straightening up with an intrigued look about him. Then, being a little shit, he comes back up to you with a kiss. “Good girl. There we go. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
You taste yourself on his lips, his mustache wet from your arousal, too. In any other case, you would be more proactive, more feral in returning his sentiment—tearing off his clothes and stuffing your mouth full of his cock. But lately you’ve been feeling more… submissive. So easily drunk on climax that you just surrender your pleasure to your man, knowing he’ll take care of you. 
Bradley stands up to his full height, towering over you. He toes off his shoes, unbuttoning his uniform. It’s hardly a striptease routine, but there’s something insanely hot about him undressing when he’s about to fuck you.
His shirt drops to the floor, and the white undershirt soon joins. You perk up at the sound of his belt unbuckling, pants rustling down. And as his hard cock springs free from his boxers, you swallow thickly at the sight. 
“You ready?” He pumps his fist around his hard-on a few times, as he settles between your legs, still standing on the side of the bed.
A quiet little please escapes you, and then a gasp, as he pulls your hips to the edge of the bed. Lining up his cock against your entrance. He’s big, and your pussy is still aching after he edged you moments ago. It’s gonna be a tight fit.
“Honey, go slow. Please. Slowslowslowslow… ahh!” His cock slides into you in one swift movement, sending a blinding wave of pain and pleasure as it stretches you out.
He doesn’t tear his eyes off of you. He watches your face fall under his undoing, and he moans. “You feel so good, baby…” he says between heavy breaths. You’re always so strong and bold and ballsy, and it gives him a fucking power trip to see you look so… small taking on his cock.
You let out a pathetic whimper as he starts to shallowly thrust in and out of you.
“What is it, baby?” He coos, caressing your hip gently.
“Y’too big…”
“Too big?” Bradley looks down to level your gaze, a seed of a shit-eating grin plastered on his stupid face. “You want me to stop? Is that what you want?”
“No!” You buck up into him as soon as his hips halt, desperately trying to maintain the pace.
He chuckles, that cocky fuck, before he finally continues driving his dick up your inner walls again. “No? You want me to keep stretching you, then?”
You nod. Every thrust feels bigger, deeper, more than the rest, hitting that spot of pleasure just barely, and you’re willing to do anything to stay there.
“Been so needy since I got you pregnant…” he kisses your neck. “Want Daddy more now that I made you a mommy, huh?”
Fuck. The words—the exact order of the words he said sounds batshit insane. You never considered this kind of dirty talk to be hot, but Jesus…
“God, I can’t wait to see your belly all big and round… your tits too, fuck…” he groans as he squeezes your soft flesh, rubbing your nipples with his thumb. “Gonna be a mommy and show everyone who you belong to, huh?”
“Mmh…” You’ve seen Bradley being possessive, and you’ve seen him tap into his primal side, but not like this. This is a whole other beast, and it shocks you how much it turns you on.
“All mine, huh?”
“I’m all yours, Daddy. I’m—fuck. Fuck!” Your whole body is shaking. The band in your core is wound up so tight, and it’s threatening to snap. 
And through it all, he doesn’t let up. Bradley keeps that rhythm, pounding into you hard and deep. “Shit, that’s it… that’s it, baby. Come on my cock. God, you’re so fucking tight…”
There’s no stopping it now… your pussy gushes and clenches around him, as shocks of pleasure wave through your system. Your mind goes blank, and for a hot second, nothing is registering in your brain. Nothing but your man, as obscenely as he is fucking your brains out right now, 
“Need your cum inside me, Roo…”
“Don’t wanna come anywhere else. Just you, just your pussy…” he breathes out. He’s close, that much you can tell. His pace is erratic and his mouth runs wild. “Gonna keep pumping you full of my cum. Gonna keep fucking babies into you until you can’t anymore.”
You would laugh. You would tease him for being such a caveman about it. But as he comes deep inside you, his hips stuttering one, two, three more times as he rides out his orgasm… you don’t only surrender to the idea; you welcome it. 
Maybe you’re completely fucked out. Maybe you’re going soft and mellow, but nothing—and you mean nothing— is hotter than what he wants to do to you.
What he is doing to you now. 
The room falls into a pleasant silence as you come down from your high. Bradley pulls out of you, and you gush out with your own release and his. His mouth falls open in awe. “Fuck, that’s hot…”
“Huh?” You lift your head from the bed, trying to see what he’s looking at.
“Nah, it’s just…” he shakes his head with a grin. “Good thing we’re already pregnant, huh? If we weren’t, that might’ve just done the trick.”
You roll your eyes as he gives you a sweet peck on the cheek. “I think the dirty talk alone was enough to do it.”
He blushes, a deep shade of red. He absolutely can’t take it when you quote back the things he said to you during sex. “Nope! Not a single word. La-la-la-la…” he closes his ears with his fingers, waddling over to the bathroom comically.
The sound of water trickling into the toilet coincides with your laugh in the bedroom… and then it gets drowned out with the flush. It’s a mundane little snapshot of your intimate lives together.
He comes up to you and offers his hands. “Come on…” he helps you get up. “You go ahead and clean up. I’ll change the sheets.”
Leave it up to Bradley, to always take initiatives to do the small things, like changing the sheets and ushering your ass to the bathroom after sex.
As you clean up and put on some clothes in the bathroom, Bradley singing Take My Breath Away to himself in the other room, you wonder how all of this will turn out. Change is inevitable—your belly is getting bigger, this new stage of relationship is getting more real— and you’re desperate to get a grasp on these things. It’s strange to be so anxious after such a lovely evening. But it’s been so good so far… too good, maybe… and you can’t help but wonder if the other shoe might drop.
“Everything alright?” Bradley pops up by the bathroom door, already in sweatpants and a t-shirt. You must’ve been in there for a while.
You nod absently. “Yeah, just… changing.” And you’re not sure whether you’re talking about the clothes you just put on, or the body you inhabit.
“I think you look beautiful,” he says so simply. Wrapping his arms around you, feeling your small bump. He smiles into your hair and whispers, “My beautiful wife…”
“Not your wife yet…” you remind him pointedly, teasingly. It’s one of your favorite pastimes, keeping him on his toes.
He turns you around to face him, a tender look seemingly permanent on his face whenever he sees you these days. “I mean, you’re here, with me, in our house, carrying our baby…” he kisses your nose, “As far as I’m concerned, that makes you my wife, doesn’t it?”
Well, when he puts it like that… you take a deep sigh, not hating the idea. But not quite ready to concede to his argument yet. “Apart from a piece of paper.”
“Ah well. That can easily be arranged, hmm?”
Truth be told, he’s got a point. The only differentiating factor to your status right now is a little certificate, and both your signatures on the dotted lines. Not a big party or a horrendously expensive dress that everybody would have an opinion on. And to be more truthful, it was never what you wanted in the first place.
You only ever want to be together.
And you’re free to decide how you want to be together.
“Should we just do it?”
“What?”
You look up at him with a tentative smile.
His eyes light up, and his heart leaps. “I mean, sure.” He chuckles. “We can go down to the courthouse. Or, hell, I’ll drive us to Vegas right now.”
It gets a giggle out of you. Of course he would jump at the opportunity to marry you right away. “Or… we can just celebrate it with our closest friends and family? Rent a beach house somewhere, and just… make a fun weekend out of it?”
“And just… what, get a justice of the peace to marry us?”
You shrug with an easy smile. “Or we can make Mav cry and ask him to officiate.”
He chuckles, but trails off as it sinks in. It has never occurred to him that that was an option. He’s always imagined it the traditional way. A church ceremony followed by a reception in a hall somewhere. Walking under the arch of swords. Looking dapper in his dress uniform. But with his work obligations and yours, and all the nightmare logistics of guest numbers and venues and entertainment and the fucking publicity that comes with your fame, both of you are well aware that it’s a hassle. 
And it’s not even the most important part.
The most important part is you. You’d be the one meeting him at the altar. You’d be the one saying your vows and making him cry happy tears.
You would be the one. 
For him.
Forever.
“Let’s do it.” Bradley nods resolutely. “Just you, me, and our closest people. We can get married in our jammies, for all I care.”
“Maybe not jammies…” you roll your eyes in amusement. “I still wanna look nice for our wedding, you know.”
“You look nice in your jammies.” He glances down at your tank top.
“Roo.” You cover his line of sight indignantly.
But he tugs your hand away, eyes still glued to what is arguably one of his favorite sights in the world. Your cleavage. Plays it off really coolly as he teases you. “No, no. I’m serious. You look really nice in your jammies. I really wouldn’t object to—”
You swat his hand, only half-serious. “Bradley.”
“Alright, fine!” He raises his hands in surrender. “So long as I get to call you my wife.”
“Not your wife yet…” you saunter out of the bathroom, knowing full well he doesn’t care.
To be completely honest, you’re not even sure that you do, either.
453 notes · View notes
lcahwriter · 2 years
Text
Running (Part 3)
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Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Fem!Reader (non-descriptive)
Word Count: 6.7k
TW: Swearing, Nightmares (death in nightmare), stalking, mentions of sex but no actual sex
Summary: You ran across the country to the place you knew you’d be the safest- with Maverick on a Navy base somewhere in California. Your plan was to lay low until the coast was clear - but then you met Bradley Bradshaw.
Will you be able to escape the man who was determined to find you? Will you be able to keep Bradley safe? To fall in love again?
READ PART ONE , PART TWO , PART FOUR
Authors Note: Thank you so much to everyone who has read this series. I appreciate all the love! I hope you like Part 3 as much as I do.
**********************************************
“What?”
 You croaked. You stumbled back against the bar counter, your chest starting to fill with panic. Mav instantly is next to you, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder.
“It’s going to be okay.” He said firmly. You looked up into his eyes and searched for the comfort you needed. But you didn’t find it – you could tell Maverick was just as fucking scared as you were.
A sob rippled up from your chest, awakening more sadness and panic in you. You leaned forward into Mavericks arms and rested your head on his shoulder.
“It’s going to be okay; I promise.” He repeated, rubbing behind your shoulders softly. You gripped him like your life depended on it.
What were you supposed to do? How could you protect yourself? How could Maverick even begin to help you?
You stayed silent; your brain was too muffled with emotion to speak.
“Let’s go back to the house, and we’ll talk about a plan.” He said softly. You nodded against him and took a small step back. You looked up to see Penny looking between you and Maverick with concerned eyes. 
“I have some last-minute things I need to do here. You guys go.” She said, directing her statement to Maverick. Mav nodded and you looked up at him with tear filled eyes.
“Just stay close to me.” You looked down at Maverick’s side to see his hand hovering over a sleek black pistol holstered on his waist. Your eyes widened with surprise.
“Is that—” you started to ask but you already knew the answer. 
“Just incase” is all he said before opening the bar door. You shakily nodded in agreement and walked behind him closely.
The parking lot was dark and quiet – the only sound was the distant waves and both your footsteps.
You sat in Maverick’s passenger seat. Jaw clamped together, body rigid and chest tight. The streets were empty, and the inside of the car was dark.
 You kept glancing in the back seat because you couldn’t get rid of the paranoia you felt. 
Images of Tim popping up behind you to strangle you had your mind teetering over the edge into a pure panic.
You jumped when you felt your phone vibrate in your back pocket. You pulled it out of your jeans and read the message.
Bradley 🐔: You done with work yet?
You clenched your phone, tears welled in your eyes. You flipped it over without responding.
How could you tell Bradley that Tim was in town? Tim was just an imaginary person in Bradley’s head. If he knew that Tim was in this city, looking for you now- you weren’t sure how he would react.
Any sane person would run the other way. 
Your mind wandered back to Tim - back to his anger - his violence. 
Tim would kill Bradley if he knew you kissed. He would kill him and then kill you- oh god you couldn’t let this happen.
“Please, you have to breathe!” Maverick’s shout broke you from your trance. He was driving, eyes on the road, but glancing to you worriedly. From the looks of it, he’d been trying to get your attention for a while.
You choked out a small sob and nodded your head emphatically.
“I’m sorry.” You said shakily, trying to take in deep breaths even though it caused your chest to burn.
“Do you think Tim knows about Bradley?” You tried to regulate your breathing, but the dread you felt had only been amplified.
“Now is not the time to think about Bradley’s safety.” Maverick glanced at you with serious eyes. “We need to think about yours.”
You shook your head. You knew he was right. Bradley was safe at training; you were the one that was unsafe. 
“How could he have found me?” 
That was the next logical thing you could think of to ask. Was this really happening?
“I’m not sure.” Maverick said with frustration.
“Maybe I should leave here, go to Canada or something.” You suggested. You were putting everyone around you in danger just by being with them. Maverick- the closest thing you had to a father was now in danger too.
“No, leaving is not an option. You’re going to stay on base with me until we find him.” Maverick’s jaw was set, and you could tell he was not changing his mind. 
“He may be in California, but he is not allowed on this damn base.”
**********************************************************
You laid in your bed, surrounded by darkness and quiet. You had a cold layer of sweat all over your body, despite the air conditioner blasting over you. 
How were you supposed to sleep? Knowing that Tim was out there – looking for you. Possibly plotting to kill you? Sleep was an impossible feat. And the worst part was the complete helplessness you felt. 
The room lit up with a text from your phone. It’s buzzing made you jump.
Bradley : Did you make it home? Call me before you go to bed.
You stared at his message. He made you smile; he was a breath of fresh fucking air. You were suffocating without him. But how could you tell him something that would worry him? Or even worse- scare him away?
Before you could turn off your phone to ignore his text, which you had fully planned to do- his name popped up on your screen again.
He was calling you.
And how could you ignore him? You were so alone, so scared. And his voice was like a fucking drug. You swiped to answer it before you could stop yourself. 
“Hey.” You said softly. 
“Well hello there beautiful. How are you doing tonight?” His voice was so happy, so carefree. And the way he called you beautiful so effortlessly- like he fucking meant it. How could you feel so warm inside but so scared? You moved the speaker from your face to take a deep breath. 
You pictured him out in the middle of the ocean with his chestnut hair blowing in the breeze. You tried to pretend you were with him, holding his hand. 
“I’m great. You?” You lied through your teeth. Your voice wavered on that one making you wince.
 “Good now that I’m finally getting to talk to my favorite girl.” 
You smiled sadly, even with your chest being torn apart. You needed to say something - anything to him to be normal but you couldn’t fake it. It was all too much.
“Are you okay?” He asked through the phone - his voice was hesitant. 
“Um” is all you could get out before you sucked in a harsh breath and a sniffle. It was so fucking obvious you were holding in tears. You were fucked.
“What’s wrong?” Bradley’s voice was more concerned now- which made you want to cry harder. Ignoring this conversation was not going to work. You sat up in your bed, trying to collect your emotions – trying your very fucking best not to sob.
“I don’t want to distract you from training.” you squeezed out. You moved the phone from your mouth again so you could let out a shaky breath.
“Don’t worry about me.” You could hear Bradley’s footsteps in the background. “What’s bothering you?”  You heard a door shut in the background. It was quieter than before on his end, and you assumed he was completely alone now.
You knew he wasn’t going to give up asking why you were upset. You had to to lie to him or tell him the horror filled truth. You bit your lip so hard you tasted blood in your mouth. Your head hurt from holding in your sobs.
“It’s Tim. He’s in California.” Your voice was raw when you spoke. Just saying the reality of the situation made you close to vomitting. There was silence for so long you almost wondered if Bradley had hung up. 
“Where are you right now?” Bradley’s tone had completely changed from concerned to- well something you never heard from him before. He was commanding- domineering even.
“I’m at Mavs.” You took in a jittery breath and covered your mouth trying to mask your sobs. But you couldn’t physically take it anymore. Cries ripped through you throat and you knew you sounded fucking pitiful.
“Does Tim know where you are?” He asked in the same serious tone. It made shivers ripple up your spine.
“I don’t know.” You choked out. 
“Fuck.” Bradley hissed so softly you wondered if he meant to say it out loud.
“I’m so scared Bradley.” You whispered between your fingers and into the phone. You breathed in harshly, whimpers coming out between each breath.
“It’s going to be okay.” His voice was firm. You wanted to believe him, but there were so many reasons he could be wrong. It felt like no one could help you- you were completely hopeless. 
But his voice was so god damn convincing. 
“I need to get back to you.” This time his voice sounded more strained, more raw. You shook your head.
“You need to focus on what you’re doing there.”  You said, even though you literally wanted nothing more than him to be with you. But that was so very selfish of you.
“You’re all I’ve been thinking about.” He said softly. “Now I’ve just shifted to worrying about you.” 
You cracked a small laugh, one that caused you to hiccup with tears streaming down your face. 
“He can’t get to me here. Not on the base.” 
You were partly reassuring yourself, and partly trying to convince Bradley of the same. 
“I can convince my command to let me fly home tomorrow. I’ll take one of the jets back.” 
You shook your head and looked up at the ceiling, letting tears roll freely down your face.
“Bradley if you come near me- and he finds me- he will hurt you.” Your jaw was clenched so tight to hold back sobs that your head was starting to throb from the pressure. “Please, just stay away from me until they find him.”
“Nice try sweetheart. Not gonna happen.” Bradley said back, his voice a little more teasing than serious this time. “I’m not worried about him hurting me, I’m worried about him hurting you.”
Before you could argue back with him, he took a deep breath, loud enough for you to follow suit.
“But he’s not going to get to you. Or me.”  You sniffled; tears still fresh down your face- but you couldn’t deny the relief you felt just by talking to him.
“It’s almost 2am, why don’t you get some sleep?” He asked. You slouched back down in bed and used your free hand to wipe away tears. There was no fucking way you were going to be able to sleep tonight.
“I’m too anxious to sleep.” You laughed sadly while pulling the covers over your shoulders. 
“How about I stay on the phone with you until you fall asleep then?” His voice was so god damned soft. It was addicting, every time he spoke your need for him to speak again grew. 
“I can’t ask you to do that. You need sleep for work tomorrow- and you know it.” You pictured him falling asleep while flying and his plane going up in flames. You shook your head at the intrusive thought. 
God damn anxiety.
“Who said anything about me not sleeping?” He questioned. You heard him walking now, his footsteps clicking against a hard floor on a boat somewhere in the middle of the ocean. “We’ll both sleep- but I’ll keep the call going. That way it’s like I’m there.”
You knew it wasn’t love- but something warm and really fucking similar to it was filling your chest. You were being chased by a crazed ex- boyfriend, crying like a dog on the phone with him and yet he still wanted you? He still wanted to make sure you slept? He was unreal.
“Close your eyes baby- I’m crawling in bed now.” 
The way he said baby made your toes curl. His voice was sounding so tired – and you were afraid if you didn’t agree to stay on the line, he would stay up even longer trying to convince you to.
“Okay. I’m already under the covers.” You snuggled into them and set the phone down next to you. You turned on your side and pressed the speaker button.
“That’s good baby, now close your eyes.” You heard Bradley pull covers over himself. You wondered if he was sleeping naked- or at least shirtless. You were kind of regretting not switching to facetime. 
You blushed and slapped a hand over your face to rub your eyes. Not what you should be focusing on at the moment.
You tried to be silent but your breath was just too ragged from the anxiety and sob fest you had. You took in a deep breath and exhaled- just like your therapist had taught you. It burned your chest to breathe in so deeply – but you felt a tiny bit more relaxed.
“Think of Montana.” He said sleepily. “The mountains are beautiful there. Like out of a movie.” You sniffled and snuggled into the covers surrounding you.
“I’ve heard there’s Moose there.” Your eyes were suddenly growing heavy. “I’ve always wanted to see one.” Bradley laughed softly.
“Then we’ll find you one.”
Your heart warmed at the thought. You pictured following Bradley through the woods in Montana. The mountains, lakes and rivers were all so beautiful. You swore Bradley was saying something on the other line, but you had already fallen into a deep sleep.
*********************************************************
A knock on the door sprung you out of the dreamless sleep you were in. The light from the windows in your room was blinding, and you really wondered how you managed to sleep through it. You checked your phone- it was 11:00am. Damn.
Your mind flashed back to your phone call with Bradley. How he  had literally soothed you to sleep embarrassingly well. Then you remembered your reality.
Tim’s in town.
A shudder settled over you. But your attention was brought back to the knocking at the door. 
You froze under the covers.
You heard Mavericks hesitant footsteps, then the opening of a door. Maverick’s voice sounded friendly, which calmed your heart beat.
Then you heard it– a voice as sweet as honey.
Bradley Bradshaw.
You jumped out of bed and slipped your sleep shorts on under your oversized college t-shirt you’d slept in all night. You didn’t even bother fixing your hair before heading down the stairs. 
How did he get here so fast? Was he serious about flying here on a fucking jet?
You knew your eyes were probably blood shot and puffy. And you knew for a fact that your hair was tangled in a nest from the long night of sleep. But Bradley’s voice was a light house, and you were a ship drawn straight to it.
You got to the end of the steps and stopped to see Bradley and Maverick talking quietly. Bradley looked up to meet your eyes. 
He was wearing his pilot uniform and a small black duffle bag was held at his side.
“Bradley.” You said softly, stepping down from the last stair and walking straight to him. You hesitated before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling yourself into his chest.
A shudder went down your spine, almost from a sense of relief rather than nervousness. Bradley’s strong arms wrapped behind your back and held you close to his chest.
His head fell into the crook of your neck, and he took a deep breath. 
“I came as fast as I could.” His breath was warm as he spoke against your neck.
“You didn’t have to.” You murmured, grasping your hands around him tighter. “But thank you.”
Maverick cleared his throat and you flushed. You stepped away from Bradley, but you made sure that you were still close enough for your shoulders to touch.
You missed him, oh god you missed him more than you’d like to admit. You had missed his smile, his voice, his scent his body.
“Let’s talk in the kitchen.”
All three of you sat at the wood table in the small kitchen that was filled with tension. You offered to cook breakfast but both men refused it. You made coffee for all of you instead- setting three mugs down on the table.
“I can’t believe the admiral let you take the jet.”  Maverick said his eyebrows raised. Bradley took a sip of his coffee and stretched his arms behind his head.
“Better to ask for forgiveness than permission?” Bradley gave Maverick a wide smile. “Someone really wise told me that once.”
Maverick rolled his eyes and tried hide the smile on his face by looking down at the table. 
“I guess I can’t be mad at you then.”
You grinned at the conversation between them. You knew their history, and how hard they both worked to get to this point. The fondness in Maverick’s eyes matched the same kind of love he had for you.
Maverick looked between the two of you and sighed.
“I don’t like the idea of leaving you guys here alone.” 
You shot him a confused look.
“What do you mean alone?” You asked, watching Maverick intently. You realized that he was in uniform, not in his usual t-shirt and gym shorts.
“I got called out to Nevada to investigate a jet that crashed.” Mav slid his arm over the table and grabbed your shoulder. “I’ll be back by tomorrow. But I trust Bradley to keep you safe while I’m gone.”
You glanced up at Bradley who was watching you with those sweet warm eyes. He was watching your every move, like his life depended on it. 
“You’ll be off base Mav- you’re less safe that way.” You countered; anxiety found you again. 
“It’s not me he’s after.” Maverick said, removing his hand from your shoulder.
You knew he was right. 
Bradley’s grip on his coffee cup was tighter than before, judging by his tight white knuckles. He was looking down now, jaw set and his shoulders tensed. You tore your eyes from him to look back at Maverick.
“Any update from John?”
Mav shook his head.
“He still doesn’t have eyes on him. All he knows is that his plane landed at the airport last night.”
The fact that Tim was this close to you again terrified you. It didn’t feel real.
“How does he know she’s here?” Bradley’s voice was dark, just like it had been on the phone last night. 
“He must have known she would hide with me. It probably took him a while to find out where I was stationed.” Maverick was frustrated, and you shook your head. You refused to let him blame himself for this.
“Has John been able to uncover files?” You were growing extremely frustrated. 
Frustrated at the situation, frustrated the cops that didn’t believe you and most of all frustrated that the man you ran all the way across the country from had found you. 
Maverick shook his head and disappointment.
“Maybe I should let him find me. Use myself as bait to at least get him arrested for stalking.” Your body rejected the idea by a swift wave of nausea.  
“No!” Both Maverick and Bradley said at the same time. 
“What else am I supposed to do?” You said your voice cracking. Tears started to well in your eyes, and you cursed your ability to cry at any moment. 
“He won’t stop until he finds me. You know that Mav.” You wiped away your tears before they could roll down your cheeks. You avoided looking at Bradley.
“We just have to wait for him to slip up, or for John to recover your files.”
Bradley sat up straighter causing you to look at him. His brown eyes were fiery with disbelief. 
“We can’t just wait for him to hurt her!” Bradley’s nostrils were flaring and his grip on his coffee cup made you wonder if it would crush in his hands. 
 You sucked in a breath anxiously. He had a point. But there was just no other way.
“Bradley calm down.” Maverick said in a warning tone. “It’s the only way we can do this, if we arrest him now then he will be released in 48 hours. There’s nothing they can actually charge him for.”
You looked over at Bradley who was shaking his head, his jaw was still clenched but his expression was now more sad than angry.
“I hate this.” He murmured, leaning back in his chair. You twisted your lips and grabbed his hand. 
Bradley wrapped his hand around yours as soon as you reached for him. You swore you could see his stress melt away in that moment. 
Even though you were the one who needed the comfort, all you wanted was to make Bradley not whatever he was right now.
The Bradley you wanted, needed, was a one with bright eyes and a smile that could bring you to your knees. Right now, he was the furthest thing from it. You gave his hand a squeeze and let go.
“You should go Mav. I know you’re probably already running late.” You gave him a small smile and stood up, collecting both men’s coffee cups. You knew you were glossing over what needed to be talked about. But what more was there to say?
The reality was that Tim was after you and there was pretty much nothing you could do about it.
“I can make some breakfast for us Bradley.” You said, not even bothering to look back at him. You started pulling ingredients from the fridge.
“You don’t have to.” Bradley said tentatively. You scoffed at him.
“I know you’re hungry Mr. I woke-up early enough to steal a jet and fly here by 11am.”
Bradley laughed at that, making your heart skip a beat. His laugh was like medicine.
“I’ll see both of you tomorrow.”  Mav pointed between the two of you. “Call me if anything comes up.” 
He grabbed his duffle bag that was sitting by the door. You didn’t want him to go, but you had no control over that. 
“Bye Mav!” You and Bradley said at the same time. Mav rolled his eyes and waved goodbye before hurrying out the door. You were right, he was late.
The house felt quieter, and much, much smaller now that Maverick was gone. 
You continued making breakfast while sneaking glances at Bradley. He looked so … so himself in his pilot’s uniform. Like he was made to wear it. 
His tall frame looked silly sitting in the dinky wooden chair, and the coffee cup he held looked like a child’s cup in his hands. You caught a glance of his soft lips that were so damn kissable. 
“What do you want to do after breakfast?” He asked, breaking you from your trance. You blushed and flipped the egg on the skillet. 
“Netflix?”
*************************************************
You laid on a white sand beach, looking out at the crystal-clear ocean. The sound of the curling waves radiated in your ears. The sunshine warmed your skin, making you feel completely at ease. 
You watched as Bradley waded in the ocean. His bare back was tanned and strong. You wanted to join him, but you felt so light where you were. You took a deep breath, and let a smile crawl to your face.
Bradley’s laugh filled your ears. He was dancing in the water now, looking as beautiful as ever. 
Perfect. This was perfect.
The sound of footsteps startled you. You looked to your right to see a tall figure dressed in all black walking towards the shore. Walking towards Bradley.
You tried to move, but you couldn’t. Your feet were stuck in the sand holding you down. Panic washed over you.
“BRADLEY!” You screamed. He couldn’t hear you. He was still laughing and running in the waves.
You looked in horror as the man turned around to face you. It was Tim. His ice blue eyes were emotionless. You screamed and tried to move again, but your body refused. 
“BRADLEY! BRADLEY PLEASE!” You cried again, this time screaming so loud your chest was aching. 
It didn’t matter how much you screamed; he couldn’t hear you.
Tim turned and walked into the ocean, just steps away from Bradley now. 
“Bradley turn around!” You sobbed, still thrashing in place trying to get to him. 
You watched in horror as Tim wrapped his hands around Bradley’s neck and slammed him into the water. Both men disappeared under the waves.
You screamed. You couldn’t get to him, no matter what you did- you couldn’t fucking get to him. 
The water was still. You were waiting for Bradley to resurface. It had been too fucking long.
You had sweat dripping down your face, your heart felt like it was going to pop out of your chest. 
The water started to bubble with movement.
“NO!” You sobbed, falling to your knees. 
Tim, was walking out of the water, dragging Bradley’s lifeless body behind him. You screamed and a pain stronger than anything you felt before ripped through you.
He let go of Bradley’s body at the shore like he was nothing and started walking towards you.  You had nowhere to run.
“No please, please please please!” Your chest was burning, you screamed again, praying someone would hear you.
“No please!” Tim reached out his hand-
But then he was gone. 
Suddenly you were staring at familiar pair of brown eyes. 
Bradley.
You weren’t on the beach anymore. You recognized your room, the bed you were laying on – the smell of home. Bradley was leaning over the bed looking at you with panicked eyes. 
“You’re okay- you’re safe” He said,softly.
You blinked a few times, trying desperately to focus on him. Trying to forget what you’d seen. It had felt so real.
You tried to speak but you were breathing too hard. Your eyes felt like they were going to pop from your skull. Your hands were rolled in fists, tucked into your chest. You could feel the cold sweat sticking to your T-shirt. Your throat was burning just as it had in your dream, and that tears were covering your face like you’d been crying for hours.
“It was just a dream.” Bradley’s voice cracked. He had woken you up by shaking you- you’d felt it. But now he wasn’t touching you at all- it was like he was scared to hurt you.
“Oh.” Was all you could think it say. You were afraid if you looked away from him, he would disappear. You let tears fall from your eyes, though you stayed silent. Your chest was painfully raw.
You gasped when the image of Bradley’s lifeless body flashed into your mind. 
You reached towards Bradley, just needing him close to you. He seemed to understand, and immediately moved to crawl under the covers with you. 
As soon as the bed dipped with his weight you were against him. Your face was pressed against his chest, and his arms slowly wrapped around your body. 
It was the first time you’d been like this, but it was so God damn natural to be this close. 
You could feel his steady heartbeat. Alive. He was alive. 
A flash of Tim’s icy blue eyes popped in your head.
You jerked in Bradley’s arms and he squeezed you closer. Your heart was beating so hard but your cries were soft, and tired.
“You’re okay.” He whispered. You cried even more at his voice, grasping onto him.
“I couldn’t save you.” You whispered, while gripping onto his t-shirt that was now soaked with your tears. “He killed you.” You whimpered at the memory.
“I’m right here.” Bradley rubbed circles on the small of your back. “No one’s going to hurt me.”
Your legs were tucked under his and your hand was wrapped behind his neck. Your stomach was pressed against his. All you could feel was your heart beating against his. 
You were still in his arms trembling when he spoke.
“You’ve got to take some deep breaths sweetheart.” 
You let out a small laugh and hiccupped.
“Easier said than done.” You retorted. You tried though, because it had been at least 10 minutes since the dream plagued you. Your heart was beating just as fast as it was then.
“Think about Montana.” He suggested. You smiled lightly at that.
“I wish we could go there now.” You whispered. You pictured the same big mountains you always did when he mentioned Montana. Images of blue lakes and rivers flooded your mind. You tried to imagine that you were there, with Bradley without a care in the world. 
“We’ll go soon.” He said, his chest rumbling your whole body. You nodded and finally felt your body relax in his arms. The worst part of waking up from the nightmare was over. 
You paused to take in your surroundings. Bradley was holding you like he would die if he let go. He was practically covering you, sheltering you like gun fire would hit you both at any minute. You were so warm in his arms, so fucking safe. It was heaven even on the worst days.
Memories of the night before flooded your brain. 
You both watched Netlfix on the couch all night – you hadn’t even bothered to cook and ordered pizza instead. It was bliss. Neither of you talked about Tim, or the impending doom surrounding you. You’d just pretended it was only you and Bradley that mattered. 
You had fallen asleep on the couch when Bradley woke you up. He gave you a piggyback to your bed and tucked you in like a little “caterpillar.” His words, not yours.
You insisted he sleep in your bed with you, but he wanted to be next to the front door- just in case. You were too tired to argue with him. The last thing you remembered before the dream was him giving you a soft kiss goodnight. 
“You get dreams like that often?” Bradley interrupted your thoughts. 
“Sometimes.”
You were lying, you had nightmares periodically since you escaped from Tim. But they were never this bad – and they had never included someone else getting killed in the dream. It had always been just you.
You pulled your head away from his chest. Your hair was sticking to your face from all the tears you’d cried.
“I’m so sorry Bradley. I know this isn’t something you signed up for.”
A wave of shame washed over you. Maybe this was too much for him. The rawness of trauma – of fear.
You tried to move away but he held you steady against him.
“Please don’t apologize.” He shook his head at you and met your eyes. “And I did sign up for this. I signed up for you the first time I spoke to you in that bar 5 months ago.”
Your eyes widened.
“I don’t want to scare you- because I swear I’m not trying to rush this.” He said quickly. “I just know I don’t want to be without you.”
You bit your lip and searched his eyes. They were honest, pure and so kind. 
“I don’t want to be without you either.” You said, reaching to touch his cheek. His skin was tanned and his stubble tickled your fingers. 
“I’m home!” 
You and Bradley both froze and looked at each other with wide eyes.
“Get up!” You said, shoving him off the bed. Bradley stumbled off the bed and you covered your mouth to cover your laughter. He looked back at you with a glare.
But you both knew you had to get it together quick. You knew Maverick suspected you and Bradley would be sleeping in the same room. But you didn’t want him to see that – even if nothing…sexual happened. 
“I’ll come down in a few.” You whispered. Bradley straightened his shirt and hair. 
“Sounds good sweet cheeks.” He winked and was out the door before you could tell him never to call you sweet cheeks again.
You rolled onto your back and stared at the all too familiar ceiling. How was it you could feel so raw and terrified, but so fucking happy at the same time?
*********************************************************
(Bradley’s POV)
Bradley walked down the stairs, still adjusting his t-shirt and hair as he moved.
“Is she still sleeping?” 
Maverick’s voice caused his head to perk up. Mav was standing at the front door, still in uniform. Bradley reached the end of the staircase and let out a big sigh.
“She had a nightmare.” An ache that he hadn’t been able to shake since he heard you screaming his name in terror panged in his chest. 
He thought that Tim had found you. 
That is until he ran up the stairs into the bedroom to see you. The image of you thrashing in the sheets sobbing was something he wished he could forget.
“I hate that son of a bitch.” Bradley said, his jaw clicking. He felt hot anger was over him. He hated the fear that Tim was causing you.
He tried not to think about what kind of sick things he did to you before you were able to escape. Every time he did it sent him in a fucking tailspin.
“John still doesn’t have tabs on him.” Maverick said lowly. Bradley guessed he was trying to speak softly so you wouldn’t hear. Maverick walked towards the kitchen, with Bradley following closely behind him.
“Do you think he has the balls to come on base?” Bradley asked. He subconsciously balled his fists together. He felt an unatural instinct to protect you- and the thought of this disgusting man getting anywhere near you made him sick.
“I don’t know.” Mav’s voice was tense. Bradley shook his head and started pacing back and forth.
He loved Maverick- but he couldn’t help but feel like the older man wasn’t doing enough.
He was fucking terrified for you. And even though he would do anything to keep you safe – he wasn’t sure he could. 
“I’m going to the police station.” Bradley said, walking towards the table with his keys on it. He could feel Maverick’s eyes on him.
“Bradley, I’ve already tried that. There’s nothing they can do.” 
Bradley shook his head in frustration.
“Then we try again!” He said harshly with his chest puffed out in anger. Maverick’s eyes were disapproving as Bradley walked towards the door.
“Tell her I’ll be back soon.”  He gestured towards your bedroom. 
“Bradley—”
He heard Maverick calling him, but he didn’t care to listen. It took all the self-control in the world to not slam the door.  
He trudged to his car and started the engine. 
He was going to make them listen to them, whether they liked it or not. 
*********************************************************
Bradley walked into the crowded police station.
 The front desk was full of people, and the waiting room surrounding it was even fuller. Officers were mingling around their desks and talking with each other.
He waited with his hands in his pockets, trying not to fucking explode with impatience. Ten minutes passed before his thoughts were interrupted.
“Sir, can I help you?” A gruff voice yelled, catching Bradley’s attention. It was an officer behind the desk, gesturing towards him. 
Bradley strutted towards the desk, trying his best not to lose his cool. As soon as he got to the counter he spoke. He did'nt have a fucking second to waste.
“My girlfriend, she’s being stalked.” Bradley took a deep breath in order to manage his stress. “He’s threatening to kill her.” Bradley swallowed, his eyes glowering into the officers. 
The officer had no reaction, just looked down at his notepad to write. Bradley licked his lips and bit the inside of his cheek- trying to remain calm once again.
“Hello?” Bradley said, fucking annoyed that the officer was acting like he hadn’t heard say someone was threatening to murder his girlfriend. 
“Sir, I’ll call you when we’re ready to take a full report. You can sit in the waiting room until then.” He still didn’t look up from his god damned notepad. Bradley wanted to rip it out of his hands.
“Did you not hear what I just said?” He seethed, his fists balling at his sides. “Someone is trying to murder my girlfriend!” Bradley’s voice was growing to a shout- and other officers were taking notice.
“Sir – I understand that. But unless there is an emergency, we can’t do anything but take a report.” The man finally looked up at Bradley.
His inconvenienced stare sent Bradley over the edge. He thought about your screams or terror this morning. Or all of the tears he'd seen you shed in just the last two weeks. He couldn't allow you to live in so much pain.
“That’s not good enough!” Bradley’s fist slammed on the counter, causing everyone to jerk at the noise. 
“Sir- you need to calm down.” He said, his eyes narrowing. 
Bradley noticed officers moving closer to where he was standing, hands hovering over their holstered guns. Bradley scoffed at their reaction. 
“How am I supposed to calm down when you're all in here chatting like it’s fucking Easter Sunday and my girlfriend is running for her god damn life!” Bradley’s chest was heaving up and down.
He knew he had crossed the line yelling at the police, but he was so fucking desperate. He had to make them listen – he had to. For you.
He felt a hand touch his left shoulder. Bradley whipped around, ready to shove someone when he realized it was Maverick. 
“Bradley, you need to stand down.” His voice was calm. The shorter man was still squeezing his shoulder. Bradley shook his head in disbelief.
“You’re just going to let them do nothing?” Bradley seethed and pointed at the officers in the building. He was making a damn scene, but he didn’t care. 
“No, I’m going to take care of this.” Maverick raised his eyebrows at him. “And you’re going to go take a walk.”
Bradley felt angry all over again.
“I’m not going to take a damn walk Maverick. Not when he’s still out there looking for her!” Bradley shook his head, his fear now mixed with anger. Maverick stepped Infront of him, looking him straight in the eyes.
“Do you think you’ll be better off sitting in a jail cell for assaulting an officer?” He whispered at Bradley harshly.
He knew Maverick was right, but he was still pissed off.
“If you do nothing and she gets hurt – her blood is on your hands.”
He directed his comment to all of the police officers who were staring at him with wide eyes.
His veins were hot as he stormed out of the police station. He cursed under his breath, pacing Infront of his car.
 That did not go as planned.
He weighed his options on what he would do next. Should he go out on a wild goose chase and find Tim on his own? Should he go back to you and provide comfort? Had Maverick left you alone?
He groaned and put his hands above his head to calm himself down. He sat on the bench Infront of the police station to cool down before driving.
“Not your smartest moment kid.” 
Bradley looked up to see Maverick making his way towards him. Bradley rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. 
“You got a better idea?” He questioned Mav through narrowed eyes. Maverick sat down next to him shaking his head.
“They are going to patrol and check local motels for him. That’s all I could get them to agree to do for us right now.”
Bradley slouched at that. Well, that was a a better plan than the murder mission he had in mind. 
“Did you leave her alone at the house?” He pictured you alone, scared. Venerable.
“No of course not. John is there.”
Bradley shook his head.
“I’m sorry Mav.” Bradley licked his lips and rubbed his hands over his eyes. “I just lose it when it comes to her.”
“It’s alright. I understand.” Maverick leaned his elbows against his knees. “Your dad would have done the same.” A fond smile flashed on Maverick’s face.
Bradley smiled back at him. They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the clouds float through the sky.
Bradley tapped his fingers against his thigh. He licked his lips and took a deep breath.
If the police didn't find Tim by tomorrow - he would go out and find the bastard himself.
*******************************************************
TAGLIST:
@shouldershimmycity , @pandaofmanyfandoms , @airedale17 , @nobody7102 , @shanimallina87 , @hangmandruigandmav , @fossntwriter , @sailorsolar12 , @mgd0326 , @maxedoutmayhem , @dvilleneuves , @readingkitty22 , @fangirlingovereverythingblog , @actorinfluence , @dyinginside-bro , @allmyspideys , @pinkishpidgeon , @caitlyn221b , @bellyliveslife , @whoreforfictionalmen18 , @kyramaximoff , @bcon24 , @seasonswinter , @awery1i , @glowingtree @a-small-independent-princess , @monifaagha , @unluckymonaghan , @woahfandoms , @eg-dr3amer3 , @chicksdigbadboys , @persondoingstuff , @calmpunker , @timbradfordsboot @buckylaststraw , @alwaysandforeverinmyhead , @spidey-d00d , @sakura8585 , @kanevill , @straightforwardly, @alilstressyandlotdepressy , @missperfect222 , @je-suis-prest-rachel , @abbym001 , @readalicious , @fogle97 , @katiemcrae , @goldielocks2004 , @bobcatliv , @vampirestookmydoubts , @monkeyyellowsunshine , @hotch-meeeeeuppppp , @katiemcrae @callsign-fox @chavivaelisheva , @harperrbradshaw @arieltwvdtohamflash @justanotherrandomfangirl17 @lucky-lexie99 @d-a818 @terrawhitethorn @rintheemolion @ladym-17 @paulina1998 @mouseymagines @loki-loveer @loveforaugust @struggling-with-nsfw @percysaidnever @lanea-1 @plaper1 @calivia @halo-mystic @acarolt @lt-bradshaw
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tgmsunmontue · 1 month
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More than movie magic... 5/?
Hangster AU. Explicit (eventually). Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries. So is Bradley.
ONE TWO THREE FOUR
                He drives the slightly battered hire car, well, truck, down the road. When he’d asked if they had something more like a sedan they’d laughed at him, and he’d realized then that all the newer nicer cars were probably reserved by cast and crew, people far higher up the food chain than Bradley. That’s okay, he’s got this Bronco, something he’d never drive normally, although he does have to admit the room in the back is an advantage, all his gear fits easily and while the outside might need some TLC the inside radio works and the interior has obviously been restored. It’s grown on him as he’s neared Hazy Days Ranch, following the directions from his phone to the location that they’re apparently using for this film.
                Half of his team are already there, arriving even earlier, needing to work with Machado and Bassett, despite already doing some preliminary work with some basic lessons in California. He knows Jake is busy wrapping up the promotional tour and Bradley refuses to acknowledge out loud that he’s looking forward to seeing him again. Along with his own team he knows the advance crew have already arrived and set up everything, including trailers, storage, lighting, costuming.
                There’s security on the gate and he shows his ID, waits for his name to be checked off the list and then he’s being waved through and directed to where he should park up. It’s slightly chaotic, which doesn’t surprise him. They have a few weeks before they start filming, but there are no hard boundaries around a set this big, and it seems like everyone is just wandering around and enjoying the early summer weather. He knows they couldn’t start filming earlier, not with the higher risk of tornados apparently, but it all looks calm. Weather wise at least. He needs to figure out where he’s sleeping and eating for the next six to eight weeks, and god he hopes it doesn’t take longer than that.
                “Hi there!” A young man greets, smile wide and he can’t be more than eighteen, but he’s dressed in what Bradley can only think of as cowboy.
                “Uh, hi?”
                “You here for the film?”
                “Yeah, Bradley Bradshaw. I’m the stunt coordinator. You need to see some ID?”
                “N’aw! They woulda checked that at the gate already. They’re just serving up the evening meal in the mess hall. Come on, we better hurry if you want food. I’m Freddie.”
                The guy holds his hand out to shake and Bradley takes it with a little amusement, murmurs that it’s nice to meet him and wonders when the film required teenagers, because he’s read the script. Maybe the kid is doing a summer job or something. His stomach grumbles then, and he huffs in amusement at Freddie’s laugh, follows him toward a large building, clearly newly built, probably built solely for feeding cast and crew for the next couple of months. The food smells good, and there are a lot of people, more than he expected.
                “Aunty Kaye! Got another one!”
                “Well now, they just keep coming don’t they!”
                Bradley almost feels like he should apologize, except the woman making a beeline for him is smiling widely, not perturbed at all by his arrival and she’s clearly related to this Freddie, the family resemblance is there even if he hadn’t just called her Aunty Kaye.
                “I’m sorry I’m late –” Not that he had a set time he was meant to arrive by, but Mav and Ice raised him to be polite and damned if he’s not going to be as charming as possible when faced with someone who is apparently going to feed him.
                “Oh! Don’t ya worry about that, I’m used to feeding people whenever they turn up at my door. Now what’s your name dear?”
                “Bradley Bradshaw ma’am, nice to meet you,” Bradley offers, because he has a feeling that this woman might be part and parcel of the whole ranch, given the proprietary air she has toward the entire room and all the people in it, like they’re all her guests and she wants to ensure they’re all well fed and cared for.
                “Well! Bradley Bradshaw. It is nice to meet you. Hmm. Welcome to Hazy Days. You can call me Mama Kaye.”
                “Oh. Um,” Bradley starts, because he hasn’t called anyone mom, or mama other than his own mom, and he knows it’s an offer borne of kindness, but…
                “Or Aunty Kaye, if that’s easier for you honey.”
                “Aunty Kaye,” he accepts, smiles and nods gratefully, because this woman seems incredibly perceptive given that she’s just met him.
                “Freddie, you show Bradley here where to find everything and then I can show him where he’ll be bunking down when he’s finished eating.”
                Clearly Freddie takes direction from this woman and he spends the next few minutes giving Bradley a quick rundown of where to find the bathrooms, utensils, plates, how to line up for food. He finds Natasha, Rueben and Bob and quickly eats his meal. They all tell him they’ve had the welcome wagon in the form of Mama/Aunty Kaye and he nods and smiles, accepts it’s just pass and parcel for the orientation here.
                There’s a table filled with mainly men, some women, they’re all dressed similarly and he realizes that they might actually be the real deal. Clearly dusty and dirty from being outside working. Holy shit. They’ve mixed ranch hands with the film crew and god, it’s a fucking working ranch. His stomach twists a little with anxiety over the lack of controlled conditions, but he’ll just have to deal with it. He’s not responsible for the day-to-day activities of a working ranch or its workers. After scraping his plate Aunty Kaye suddenly appears beside him, gestures for him to follow her and he doesn’t really have any choice but to, raising his hand in goodbye to his friends.
                After being instructed to he grabs his bags (filled with some of his oldest clothes) and follows after her. The woman has smile lines all over her face, and Bradley wonders what his mom would look like now, all the photos he has of his mom are ones where she’s sporting a huge grin and she’d probably have happy wrinkle lines like this. It’s a nice thought.
                “Well, here are bunk rooms, we got them upgraded a little while ago. The family house is up there a little way, but down here we have a bigger kitchen and I can cook for everyone who’s here. It’s gonna be like a little party every day ain’t it?”
                “I guess so,” Bradley agrees, because he guesses for someone who doesn’t live like this the novelty must be quite nice. She leads him through a spacious bunkhouse, there’s a common area with cards and some boardgames, refrigerator and coffee machine, clearly to meet the needs of early morning coffee addicts. There’s a long corridor with about six doors on each side and fucking hell, how many people do they have staying in here.
                “I put you in here, upstairs so you don’t have the noise of the people coming back and forth all the time, or clompin’ about above you. There is a little balcony as well, facing toward the sunset. Real pretty.”
                “Thank you, it’s lovely,” Bradley offers, because honestly, it really is. He wasn’t expecting a queen-sized bed, or even his own space. He’d been expecting to share at a minimum. This is pretty damned luxurious, it’s going to make it a lot more comfortable given the physical nature of what some of the tasks he’s going to have to undertake for this job.
                “You’re a good boy. Nice and polite.”
                “I try to be ma’am,” Bradley says.
                “Well, you keep on tryin’ and I’ll just be glad for you to keep everyone safe on set…”
                “Uh…” he’s pretty sure that’s the realm of the safety personnel, whom he works with obviously, however he wonders what it is she thinks he does exactly.
                “I mean with regards to the stunt work honey. I hear wee Jake complained about not being allowed to do some of the riskier things. Glad there’s someone like you watchin’ out for him. That boy can be far too reckless for my likin’.”
                “Wee Jake?” Bradley asks, amused. “Is there a non-wee Jake around? Have you known him a while then?”
                For some reason that makes her laugh, and if his comment like that sets her off it explains the laugh lines.
                “Oh honey, you’re funny. I’ve known Jake his whole life. His grandpa was big-Jake.”
                “Oh. Okay. I didn’t realize that Jake grew up around here…”
                “Around here? Well –”
                “Bradley! Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”
                “It’s no problem dear, I’ve gotta keep reminding myself you lot are all here to do a job and I gotta stop distracting y’all.”
                “You weren’t distracting me, you were showing me to my room. Thank you again.”
                “You’re welcome, I’ll let you catch up with your friends. Welcome again Bradley.”
                “Thanks.”
PART SIX
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st4rc4t · 2 months
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hasan piker x weed smoking reader hcs
disclaimer! i do not condone underage marijuana usage!! this is just something silly for ppl who do/have smoked weed before. if ur under 21 in the united states don’t do it !!!
cw: marijuana usage, friends to lovers sorta idk the situation is weird, autistic coded reader ? it kinda just happens, semi pining, gn!reader
wc: 1.1k+
a/n: just me and my 3 weed smoking gfs
most of his friends in the youtube/twitch scene also smoke weed so he doesn’t really care
he smokes occasionally but only at night to help wind down a little bit
he doesnt mind the smell but he really hates when his clothes and hair smell like it
so when he’s around you make sure you’re either outside or blowing it out of a window
you never smoke inside his house
he didn’t ask you not to, you just assumed he wouldn’t like it
he doesnt and it makes him blush a little at ur consideration
whenever you get high and he doesn’t, he never says “omg ur so high” while ur trying to talk
cus like . yeah obviously that was the point ! and its not like ur completely different while high, just a little floatier and it takes you a minute to get thru ur sentences
but you talk about pretty much the same stuff and he loves talking to you
and u laugh a lot he likes that too
dont tell anyone tho
you looove getting high with him its such a special treat
ull be gathering ur paraphernalia to take out on the patio and he wanders out of his stream room looking like the sad hamster
he sees you getting ready, getting a bottle of juice and such and asks if he can join u
gasp of course he can !!!!!
asking how fucked up he wants to get so you know the best method of smoke delivery
he wants to sleep Good tonight so indica in the bong it is !
he’s nervous ab the bong so u bring out a bowl too incase he gets cold feet
he watches you get comfy in your seat outside, a comfortable warmth from the california setting sun
arranging everything ready on the table
“you look like a tweaker”
“im gonna make you a tweaker if ur not careful”
he laughs but he keeps watching you carefully pick out a healthy portion from the large bud you have, pushing it into the prongs of your grinder and twisting the two pieces against each other
he watches you pour the contents of a reusable water bottle into the large glass piece, eyeing the level of water
he watches you stop and put it to your lips, taking a pretend hit and making sure the water level is good
he watches you carefully pack the ground up flower into both bowl pieces, using your fingers to pat it level and dusting the excess back into the grinder with each one
you notice him staring but dont say anything until you’re already done
you make him an offering, bong and bowl in each respective hand. eyebrows raised as if to say, “which are we feeling?” but when he continues staring at the contents of your hands, you actually speak.
“dude are you already high, whats going on?” you laugh cautiously, genuinely a little worried but keeping it light hearted. he seems to snap out of it at your voice.
his eyes dart around for a second as he reenters his surroundings, chuckling when your word’s finally register, “no, yeah- sorry… really long day today,” his words fizzle out as he goes along. you cant help but feel bad, you dont know how he deals with streaming sometimes. you also feel weird about giving him a mind altering substance while he already seems spaced out.
setting the pieces down safely on the table, you look at him seriously before speaking, “are you sure you wanna do this? you’re kinda out of it,” you’re hard trying not to sound condescending, but you doubt he can read your tone that well right now anyway.
he smiles the most minuscule amount and looks away, but you see it. “yeah, im sure,” he sighs out gently before continuing, “i need to empty my brain,” he finishes by looking back to you with already tired eyes. you nod in understanding, relishing in knowing exactly how to fix his problem.
picking up the little glass bowl and a lighter, you hand both to him. they instantly look tiny in his hand and you’re not sure how he’s gonna actually do this. after realising you gave him green hit, you remind him to take a small hit. he just rolls his eyes sarcastically and scoffs, like of course he would, but you both know he would’ve blown a lung.
you watch him fumble with the glass, trying to get a good grip that covers the carb and wont burn his hand when he lights it
he eventually gets it and takes a little corner hit
a bit bigger than he was expecting tho so he does that thing where u cough the smoke out
just awful btw
u give him some water hes fine but boy does he love to complain
u just laugh at him and take ur own hit
breathing in deep, holding it for a second, and letting it go watching it escape into the open air
when he sees other people smoke it usually feels more rushed and energetic, like they were trying to ingest as much thc in as little time as possible
but you take your time. gathering everything and getting comfortable, settling into the ritual of the action. you take your time and let yourself feel it, you take your time and make sure he’s fully prepared before offering him anything
oh no he likes you !
he does end up hitting the bong but like the smallest baby hit so it doesn’t even count
he is sooo silly when hes high loves to laugh
he will def devolve into political rants if you let him, but you’re pretty good at making him laugh and redirecting him when hes like this
bc he smoked an indica this time his eyes are even more droopy than they were before and you can tell he’s getting tired
you clean up and follow him back inside amd he goes completely baby mode at the sight of kaya sleeping on the couch
petting her and pressing his face into her fur, going on and on about how soft she is
you laugh and sit on the other end of the big sectional covered in pillows and blankets
when hes done melting into kaya he sits down next to u with his arm around the back of the couch
real smooth .
it works 1000%
watching smth stupid like family guy (genuinely my fave show while high i will not elaborate)
chilling until he decides to go to bed at like 8:30
he convinces u to sleep on the couch bc ur both too high to drive and he would freak out at the thought of u in an uber rn
okay i have to be done i basically wrote a oneshot in the middle bye bye
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Redwoods enchant me. As survivors, as ancients, as giants, as living things that have lived hundreds of years. I see them whenever I have the chance to, and every time it’s like stepping into a different world.
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xxcocothekillerxx · 6 months
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Behind Locked Doors
Pairing: Johnny slaughter x FemReader
Summary: Y/N recently moved into a somewhat small town, Newt, In Texas with her father. Y/N's father thought this would be a good opportunity for them, since things got rough back in California. Little do they know the trouble that awaited them..
!THIS CHAPTER DOESN'T CONTAIN NSFW!
Warning: This series will contain 18+ content & material! NSFW situations and possibly TRIGGERING topics such as- Depression, stalking, blood & gore, manipulation, mention of kidnapping and small amounts of self-harm, such as scars/cuts.
{{ Please proceed with care if you're sensitive to ANY of these topics }}
Author's Note: This is my first time really writing NSFW stories / stories in general. Tips and tricks on how to improve my writing and overall layout are welcome, though keep it respectful please. Other than that please enjoy! 💋
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💋Chapter 2: The Roller Rink💋
It was night time and you were just getting done showering and brushing your hair, your clothes sat on the bathroom counter as you brushed your teeth. You looked at yourself through the mirror, hugging the towel to your body with one hand while the other kept brushing your teeth. 'this night is gonna be amazing' you thought to yourself as you finished brushing your teeth and dried yourself off with the towel completely, you placed the towel down on the counter and began to dress yourself for the night. You put on a Navy blue, cropped halter top with white floral patterns across the chest along with plain frayed jeans and a white leather belt and shoes.
You felt ready to finally get out And party with the new friends you made back in town earlier that day, like the old days in California. You smiled to yourself as you did light and simple makeup and finally walked out the bathroom into your room, you walked into your room to put a little bit of perfume on. As you got finished getting ready you looked out your window, towel hugged close to your body, and looked down the road. It was reasonably dark outside but still bright enough to see the road…you felt your mouth open slightly and your lip began to tremble, the hairs on the back of your neck starting to stand on end as you watched a figure suddenly, yet slowly slip back into the sunflower field on the other side of the road adjacent to your house. You step away from the window quickly and feel yourself shake and tremble slightly, your hands shaking and mind wandering as you knew your father was downstairs and no one would be here at this time of night slightly out of town. You hoped that it was just your mind playing a trick on you from the hot shower as you quickly turn the water on and splash your face with ice cold water, you regain yourself and quickly run downstairs to your father, where he sat on the couch reading a book while waiting for you, his little radio quietly playing the local News.
His eyes quickly perked up to see you and his face grew a quick smile as he set his book down on the couch next to him. "I'll drop ya' off, but no later than 12pm.. alright sweetie?" He said while giving a somewhat serious and stern look, you never really gave your father trouble but you understood his concerns and simply nodded. Your father's face went from stern and serious to warm and happy with a big smile, he quickly fixed his glasses and grabbed his keys off the end table and got up. "Ready?" He said, tilting his head slightly towards the door. "Yes sir" you nod, Walking to the door and opening it. The night air quickly hits your face and sends a shiver through your body, your father quickly throws his leather jacket on you with a slight smirk knowing you probably needed it. You two quickly hop into the car and your dad drives down the dark road with his window slightly down, you watch the sunflowers under the moonlight zoom by as you drive. The thought of that figure rushes into mind and makes your brows furrow in worry, though the radio quickly snaps you back to reality as it plays sudden rock music. You chuckled as you watched your father hum and tap the steering wheel to the beat of the music, your eyes wandering back over to the sunflower field. The thought staining the back of your mind as you watched the smear of yellow from the sunflowers zoom by, the moonlight making the shine and nearly glow.
As you and your father ride into town, very few street lights are on and only the gas station and church are the main source of lights for passer Byers, however the roller rink has their party lights on, the flashes of colors can be seen clearly through the windows of the building. You can also see a decent amount of people inside and hear the faint muffled sound of music. You wait for your dad to park before getting out and telling him you love him and you'll see him later. He gives you a large smile, "be safe sweetie!" He nervously says before waving goodbye and pulling out of the parking spot and driving off back home. You stand there for a moment, the cold air hitting your skin and the night ambience fills your ears with crickets and owls and the muffled sound of music from inside the roller skate rink. You quickly take a deep breath before walking up to the doors of the building and walk inside, you're quickly filled with the smell of popcorn, soda and other kinds of foods such as hotdogs, burgers and fries while the boys behind the counter quickly gave you an almost robotic and scripted greeting.
"Hello ma'am, welcome to RollerSkate jinx, Let our beats take you to new heights on the rinks..." he said with the most straightest and bored face in the world, you almost felt bad for the kid as he gave you the most expressionless face possible and was waiting for you to pay and get your shoes. "Uh… thanks.." you nervously said, looking around you quickly spotted Connie, Ana and Julie. Two boys seem to also be standing with them, quickly Connie spots you and jogs over from their table and over to the entrance where you stood. "She's with us!" She says, joy filling her voice as she greets you with a hug. You pick out your skates and walk back over to the table with Connie, setting your skates on the floor. "We already paid for everything! But meet the boys! This is Leland and Sonny! They wanted to meet you when we told them about you Y/N!" Julie chimbed in, and a wide smile on her face as she introduced you to the two boys. Sonny gave a nervous wave as he scratched the back of his neck before quickly shoving both his hands into his pockets, while Leland quickly and confidently took your hand in a shake. Leland had a large smile wiped across his face as he greeted you, "nice to meet you Y/N, hope you've been liking it around here so far" he laughed as he gently let go of your hand and backed away slightly, a warm smile on his face.
Everyone chats with each other and drinks their pop-sodas and eats their hotdogs, while you quietly sit there nibbling at your hotdog when you suddenly feel that same feeling you felt back at the house, the feeling of being watched again. The hairs on your neck slightly stand on edge as your eyes dart around the building, looking at the groups of people before your eyes quickly landed on a young man looking at you. As soon as your eyes locked with his, the man looked away quickly, his brown slicked back hair went down to the middle of his neck, little strands of hair covered his forehead slightly. You noticed he had scars scattered around his face and shoulders, he was decently muscular and tall. He wore a worn down black muscle shirt with slightly torn faded out blue jeans and work boots, he looked like he belonged on a farm more than a Roller skating rink because you also noticed he was wearing yellow gloves for whatever reason. He did not look like someone who should be here, your eyes wandered back up towards his face when you noticed he was staring at you once again, his eyes nearly burning a hole into your body which made you quickly look away in embarrassment and resume eating your hotdog.
You still felt the man's eyes staring at you, nearly burning through you. You almost felt a sweat start to form on your forehead before you felt a hand land on your shoulder, you never jumped so hard as you turned to smack the hand until you realized, "oh.. hey Leland" you quickly felt yourself settle down and relax as you looked up at Leland, who was giving you a concerned and confused look as you were practicing nose deep in your hot dog. "You alright Y/N? Look like you've seen a ghost" he laughed, a smile resting on his lips as he stood there, you looked behind him briefly to see if the man was still there.. and of course, he wasn't. You quickly brought your attention back up to Leland and gave a half smile, "guess you could say that heh.." you embarrassingly said to him, looking back down at your half eaten hot dog. Leland sat across from you in the booth and tilted his head to try and meet your gaze, a warm smile on his face as he gently placed a hand on your forearm.
"I gotcha'... Look, the girls and Sonny went onto the floor to do some skating! You wanna join' em with me Y/N?" He suggested as he sat back in the booth, you nodded yet slightly embarrassed since you really didn't know how to skate. "I- uh.. I'm not good at roller skating.." you almost looked down in shame before Leland used his hand to quickly lift your chin up to meet his gaze, "Hey! Hey.. I can teach cha' if you want? I don't mind" he gave you a friendly smile as he pulled his hand away, you felt your cheeks flush a light shade of pink before you nodded to him. You started to put your skates on and finished tying them, Leland already having his own on, was waiting for you right by your side in case you stumbled. You stand up and held on to Lelands arm, he gives you a gentle smile and reassurance as he gently places his other hand on the lower part of your back to keep you stable, it only makes your face blush harder and uncontrollably. "Alright, it's all about balance.. don't panic, ok?" He explained with a joyful and friendly smile on his face, you nodded and let Leland roll you over to the floor. Leland held your side tightly but gently, as you slowly took a step onto the floor with Leland quickly following suit. Leland continued to push you around slightly and teached you how to push with your feet and how to stop, after a while you got the hang of it, slowly, and soon held on to just Leland's hand to keep up as you joined the other. The girls are chatting with you and expressing their joy to have a new friend in the group. Leland was joking around with Sonny and Punching Sonny's shoulder playfully and laughing together, you couldn't help but smile as you felt at home for once.
Few hours pass into the night, an hour before midnight when your father is supposed to pick you up and the group calls it a night and picks up their stuff from the table and booth. Together you and the group walk out the building and sit on the concrete stairs, Connie and Julie giggling with each other and waving their goodbyes to everyone before heading home. Sonny shakes your hand once again and thanks you for coming before also leaving, Ana smiles and gives you a hug "thank you so much Y/N for coming!.. it's nice to have someone new like you to hangout with!.. but goodnight y'all! And get home safe" she says, a warm smile on her face as she waves goodbye before finally walking off. You chuckled to yourself as everyone left except Leland, who stood next to you and turned to face you.
"So..Y/N, I just wanted to say thank you"
"For what ya goof?" You couldn't help but laugh slightly.
"For hanging out and stuff.. you're pretty chill for a girl" he playful punches your shoulder as he gives a soft smirk towards you. You smile and nod, you two continue to chat for a little while before Leland starts to yawn. "I should probably get going then huh? Haha" he chuckled, "probably yes.. my father should be here soon, and I'm sure he'd kill me if he saw me with a boy" you laughed, gently pushing at Leland's shoulder, Leland laughs back in response as he crosses his arms. "I ain't that bad!.." he states before taking a step forward and leaning slightly down to meet your gaze, making it so only a few inches are between your faces. You felt your face quickly turn red as his hot breath hit your lips as now you were slightly forced to look into Leland's eyes, a dumb smirk whipped across his lips. Your eyes started to dart between his eyes and down to his mouth as Leland leaned in slightly closer towards you, his eyes becoming hooded as his focus turned to your lips. His hands wandered to end up on your hips, which caused your breath to sharpen and to gently place your hands onto his chest. Your body felt flustered and panicked before you quickly pushed away from him, your eyes slightly wide and nervousness filling your body as your heart raced and pounded through your chest. Leland was caught off guard before his eyes widened and his face flushed red, "i-i'm so sorry!..." He Yelled, embarrassed as he quickly turned away from you to hide his face. You couldn't help but chuckle, "it's not funny… I shouldn't have done that!" Leland protested, his back completely facing towards you.
You place a hand gently onto his back, quickly feeling his body tense up, "it's ok Leland…It was a simple mistake" you gave a warm smile as he turned his head to face you, he looked at you over his shoulder in an attempt to still hide his obviously reddened and flustered face. "Why don't we call it a night?" You say, giving a reassuring smile as he fully turns to face you. He nodded before giving you a quick hug, he took a deep breath to calm himself before he said his goodbye and can't wait til the next hangout before leaving and heading off to home himself. You go to turn around before you hear Leland shout, "BE SAFE!" You heard him yell, making you giggle to yourself. Giving yourself a smile and you felt your cheeks blush, you felt like a little school girl with a dumb crush as you giggled to yourself and jumped around a little. You quickly calmed yourself down and then sat down on the concrete stairs as you waited for your father to come, you had thirty minutes until then however so you felt almost bored as you sat there. You started to get cold as you had forgotten your father's jacket in the car stupidly, hugging yourself and rubbing your arms to keep yourself warm. You suddenly felt a heavy fabric hit your shoulders from behind, you jumped up from the sudden action and felt that same stare from before.. that burning stare on the back of your neck as you slowly turned to look at the person who gave you their jacket, you almost felt your stomach dropped at you look up at the young man who you caught staring at you back in the roller rink. The man leaned against the bricked wall of the roller rink building lighting a cigarette, his dark wild eyes lit up from the flame of the lighter.
"Uhm.. thanks!" You say gently, your voice almost a whisper. The man raised his eyebrow before darting his eyes over to you as he held the cigarette with his thin lips. He stayed silent but gave a quick nod before looking somewhere off into the distance and his hands shoved haphazardly into the pockets of his jeans, his face gently lit by the moon light and colors of pink and blue giving a back light to him from the roller rink behind him. You give a cough to grab his attention before once again speaking, a little more loudly than before "thank yo- '' you were quickly cut off by him stepping forward towards you, giving a stern look of annoyance. "I heard ya'.." he annoyingly muttered to you, his arms crossed as looked down on you and furrowed his brows, giving him an almost angry expression. You felt a little shocked by his attitude towards you as you gave an annoyed huff and crossed your arms. "Well then mister…can I ask your name at least without getting cut off?" You annoyingly spat, arms still crossed as you slightly tilted your head like an angry parent who's waiting for a poor me up excuse from their child. Your tone seemed to catch the man slightly off guard but seemed to also piss him off at the same time as he quickly stepped dangerously close to you and leaned his head down to try and tower over you, a snarl appeared on his lips as he gritted his teeth together as if he was holding back from saying something he shouldn't. "Johnny.." he growled, still leaning in heavily close to you to the point you can basically feel his breath on your face. It smelled like iron and cigarette smoke, you felt your lips unintentionally curl downward in slight disgust and Johnny seemed to notice and his eyes quickly shot down from your eyes to your lips. "So.. Johnny.." you backed up to create space between you and him before quickly finding the words of confidence, "why were ya' staring daggers into me?" You quickly felt a frog in your throat as his form didn't grow angry but instead a cocky grin appeared on his face as he stood straight up and crossed his arms. "No reason… just never seen a pretty thing like you round here~" he chuckled, a wild glint behind his eyes, you almost couldn't tell what he was thinking and it slightly off put you as you felt your body tense.
Something about this boy made you nervous, either from how close he decided to get to you or how fast he changed his expressions, or maybe it was his cockyness from being caught that didn't make him feel embarrassed in the slightest. A large wave of relief hit you however as you saw your father park on the side of the road and a honk coming from the car, you quickly walked over to your father who was sitting in the car still and gave him a hello and a warm smile.
"Who's your friend sweetie?" You father smiled as you felt a large hand grip onto your shoulder, a wave of nervousness washed over you as before you even got a word out, Johnny quickly cut you off and leaned down to look at your father, his facial expression completely changed into a almost innocent and warm smile as he greeted your father. "Hello! You must be Y/N's father!.. pleasure to meetcha, I'm just a 'friend' of hers" he hummed, your face felt awfully pale and cold as he spoke your name. 'You never told him your name..' you thought to yourself, your palms felt slightly sweaty. However your father gave a warm smile to Johnny, not really questioning anything and shook the young man's hands. You quickly walked over to the passenger side door and got in, a blank expression on your pale face as you sat there, your father quickly nudged your arm and tilted his head towards Johnny to basically tell him goodbye and to be nice to your friends. You gulp before you simply nod at Johnny and give a half smile as you wave goodbye, you feel your heart sink as Johnny gives a devilish grin towards you and basically waved at you with his fingers. "See ya soon…Y/N~" he said before backing up away from the car, quickly you watched his expression change from the almost evil and wild look he gave you to a sweet and gentle smile as he waved goodbye to your father.
The car ride home was silent for most of the way, with the local music station quietly playing in the background. You stared at the sunflower field as it passed by, you felt your father's hand be gently placed onto your shoulder as he quickly gave side eyes and a soft smile. "Everything alright sweetie?..." He softly spoke, his voice calm and gentle. "Yea.." you mumbled, not really paying attention to the conversation with your father, you felt his hand pull away as he pulled into the driveway, the white house illuminated by the moonlight and warm light from inside. You took a deep sigh and slumped back into your seat, your father already out of the car to go unlock the front door. You get out of the car and take a quick glance back towards the sunflower field, the sound of owls and crickets singing in the wind as you start to make your way back to the house.
You can't help but think about that strange man Johnny. Him knowing your name without speaking to him… made you lay in bed for hours. 'See you soon..Y/N~' playing in the back of your head.
END OF CHAPTER 2
If you got this far I sincerely hope you enjoyed chapter 2! I promise things will start to pick up in chapter 3.. Other then that I hope you'll stay tuned! 💋💋💋
Special Thanks and inspiration - @lil-spider 💋❤️
//CHAPTER 3//
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royallyprincesslilly · 11 months
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Title: '23 Bonnie & Clyde {One Shot}***
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Title: 23 Bonnie & Clyde ***
Den Of Thieves Ray Merrimen x OFC Aria
Warnings: Action, Blood, Violence, Heavy Cursing, 18+ Mature Content, Gun Violence, Crime, Angst, Smut, Rough Sexual Activity, Glove Free Lovin, Plenty of Words
Words: 15,575k
Summary: Picks up with Ray being pinned down by Nick and his team after the heist. With his team dead and 2 bullets making it hard to go on, Ray believes his ticket’s been punched. Unexpectedly, an angel swoops in to save the day. However, is she an angel of mercy or heartbreak?
Note: @waterfallsandsunsets As my first accepted commissioned fic, I hope you enjoy this, and I hope it meets your expectations. I want to thank you for requesting this and even more for wanting to pay for a story from me. From the bottom of my heart, thank you!
Note II: Ray Merrimen and Pablo girlies I hope you enjoy this.
***Very Loosely Edited***
~~~~~~~~~~
-Ray-
Around him, he could hear the echoing of the heavy gunfire he was currently in the middle of. It sounded like he was in a hollowed tunnel making it easy to hear every sound. The crunching of footsteps that were attempting to stealthily creep toward him, failing miserably by his military training standards, the zing, and whizz of every missed bullet, the painful beat of his heart that was slowing with every minute.
A strong pang of pain gripped him making him curse out. He clapped his hand over his chest and grimaced. He didn't know how he would make it out of this one. All his life he'd lived by the gun and knew he'd die by it too but somehow he didn't expect it now. He thought he'd be old and grey before that bullet with his name on it punched his ticket.
He slid his hand lower just underneath his heart and felt wetness there. When he raised his fingers to his face the crimson liquid that coated his fingers confirmed it. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he dropped his head back to look into the sky. It was yet another beautiful California day. He knew it was a hot one but couldn’t quite feel the warmth of the sun anymore. A shiver rushed through him then he heard his name.
“Merrimen, it doesn’t have to be like this. You’ve got nowhere to go. Come out with your hands up!”
He scoffed. That son of a bitch, he thought. If he really expected him to come out and surrender he hadn’t read his file properly.
“Never surrender,” he mumbled feeling the drowsiness trying to overtake him.
Shaking it off, he wiped his hands dry then gripped his weapon. Checking the chamber, he realized his clip was empty. With slow, painful movement he dug into his vest searching for his ammo but found none.
“Sh—shit!”
He was truly fucked. Either he was going to be cuffed and saved at the hospital then sent back or he would die a free man, right here, right now. It only took him a few moments to make his mind up. He meant every word he’d said a week ago. He was never going back to prison. He took several breaths trying to psych himself up for the next round of pain he would feel. No man wanted to face death but he’d long prepared for his death. He didn’t fear it.
Suddenly, her face popped into his mind making him freeze. He’d often thought of her. Every night her face somehow wandered in through the slips of his mental blocks, the ones he’d purposely put up in heavy efforts to not think about her. In those wee hours of the morning, while he laid in his bunk surrounded by other men in their 9 by 5 cells doing the same, he’d think about her. Since his release from prison, he’d thought of her more and more as people, places and things often brought back memories, good and bad.
He heard the thud of footsteps creeping up on his right and they brought him back to reality. Pretty soon he’d stop thinking about her completely. Maybe in death, he could finally get peace.
“Nut up!”
He rose to his feet then turned to where he knew that Detective Nick was waiting. He came face to face with the man aiming his weapon right at him.
“Don’t do it Merrimen!”
He waited.
“We can end this peacefully. It doesn’t have to end this way.”
His vision blurred and his heartbeat slowed. “I told you—I’m not going back.”
The man across the way clenched his jaw and he almost saw a look of disappointment across his features, but he didn’t wait. He raised his empty gun knowing he’d take the shot, truly ending this.
“Don’t!”
Suddenly, rapid gunfire rained around him sending the man jumping to seek cover while he dropped back. Chaos reigned around him in the form of three white vans rolling up creating a “U” shape shield around him. His mind recognized it as an operational defensive tactic, one he’d done in his years of service. Again, his eyes went blurry as his heart slowed. Gripping his chest, he focused on the sky trying to get himself in control so he could make sense of the situation and defend himself if needed.
“Secure the perimeter. We’re out of here in one minute!”
The voice was garbled like he was underwater, and they were above it. He grabbed his gun and pointed it forward making contact with a chest. The figure above him was masked with only their eyes revealed.
“I got you. ‘Till the end imma ride wit’ you.”
Recognition flamed in his head. He’d heard those words before. He’d said those words before. Only one other person in the world would ever utter them. He froze but before he could move again, he lost consciousness with those eyes being the last thing he saw.
~~~~~~~~
-Aria-
“What a fucking mess!”
Milla was pissed. One thing she hated was a sloppy op and what Ray had found himself in the middle of was a sloppy op.
“From the stories about this guy never thought he’d be part of something like this.”
“Shit went sideways,” Jada replied.
“Hey! Fucking focus on getting us the fuck out of LA and to the fucking jet!”
If Milla was pissed, you were downright seething. She was right, it was a sloppy op and shit had gone sideways. Fuck they went way past sideways. You made a mental note that you’d find Donnie’s ass and put two bullets through his skull for this bullshit.
“Apply more pressure!”
You, Uki, Keturah, and Lyn were each pressing on each bullet wound in an attempt to slow the bleeding. Your efforts seemed pointless as his blood poured out of him like a calcified showerhead.
It was a good thing you got there when you had. As you pushed harder on his chest, you stared into his face. You didn’t know how it was possible, but he looked the same given some wrinkles here and there. His face was the same but weathered, aged to that of a grown man. Your heart beat painfully thinking of how serious his condition currently was.
“Aria, I don’t know if he’ll make it,” Uki announced.
Your eyes snapped to her and in the same second that they made contact, she looked down.
“I’m just saying. His vitals are not good,” you mumbled not wanting to be the bearer of bad news.
“He’ll make it!”
The entire van went quiet. You hadn’t meant to scream at her, so you took a breath and looked back to Ray, and repeated your words in a calmer voice.
“He’ll make it. He’s lived through worse.”
The remainder of the drive passed in near silence. Except for updates from the other vans and checking in to confirm perfect execution of your plan and distraction no one else said anything that wasn’t mission specific. You split your focus between the next steps of the plan and keeping Ray alive. You’d estimated that the drive to the airfield would take 40 minutes and in those 40 minutes, he’d flatlined twice. You were glad that you were the type of person to bet on things going wrong. It was that foresight that found a mini hospital in every van.
With Uki’s help, you managed to bring Ray back every time he flat-lined with the aid of adrenaline and a defibrillator. Each time took longer but you refused to give up. It wasn’t his time; you’d make damn sure of it.
“Offload,” Keturah shouted as the van rolled to a stop.
Everyone sprang into action, tackling their tasks. Milla and Keturah handled stripping the van, and Lyn took care of erasing every bit of artillery so there would be not even a serial number left on anything left behind. You, Jada, and Uki lifted Ray to the waiting jet.
“Fuck he’s heavy!”
He sure was and from the looks of him, it was pure muscle. Prison had changed him. The two men in the jet hurried to help load him in.
“Let’s go. 40 seconds!”
Just then, the van went up in flames. As if that was the signal, all your femme fetales assembled and boarded the jet. Within a minute you were taking off. As the jet gained altitude the van on the ground exploded leaving flames, shards, and nothing else in your wake.
~~~~~~~
-That Night-
All was quiet, which was what you expected. This was your compound in Mexico, and it was heavily guarded. Only those who needed to know knew about it. You watched as the doctor finished his examination of your hurried work in the van and the jet. You’d had more than enough experience patching yourself and others up to know your work was sufficient, but you wanted to make sure you got all the shards out. You didn’t go through all this to have a bullet fragment sneak to his heart.
You sat on the window seat then continued tapping your combat boot-clad feet. The sound echoed in the room as dull thuds for several minutes before you sprang to your feet again to pace the room some more.
“You’ve never been anxious like this with anyone else,” Manolo said his voice filled with certainty. “Losing faith in my skill?”
“No. He’s just--not—anyone.”
He looked back at you and studied your face for a few moments then turned back to a still unconscious Ray. Manolo nodded then stood.
“Well, I think you turned a pretty horrible situation into a bad one, which is an improvement and impressive.”
“Will he make it?”
Manolo sighed and took his time before he spoke. The seconds that stretched only made you more anxious. You were milliseconds away from snapping at the man, but his voice stopped your outburst.
“It’s hard to say. His injuries are extensive. From what I can see you’ve got all the bullets and I don’t see any fragments so that’s good news, but I’ve seen men die from injuries less severe than these. It’s a miracle he is still alive.”
“What—what does that mean Manolo?!”
Your frustrations were getting the better of you now.
“I know you want a guarantee, but I can’t give one. If he—if he can make it the next 72 hours then I say his chances are very good but--.”
He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. His grey-speckled hair was coiffed in an effortless style that framed his face and showcased the wrinkles he'd acquired from years of work and little sleep. He and your father were good friends and one on the very short list of people he trusted, which meant you trusted him too.
“The next 72 hours I expect to be touch and go.”
You sighed and then looked at Ray. It wasn’t a death sentence, but it wasn’t a glowing bill of health. There was hope at least.
“Thank you, Manolo,”
He nodded then looked back to Ray. “I will stay close tonight in case you need me again.”
You nodded and watched him pack his things up to then exit the room. For the first time since you'd laid eyes on him, you were alone together. Half of you was relieved he was unconscious so you didn't have to talk but the other half wanted more than anything for him to wake up even if it spelled trouble for you.
You stood across the room for so long that the bottoms of your feet burned. It had been a long day and even longer 48 hours in prep for his extraction. Your body was exhausted, but sleep wasn’t an option. There was no way you could sleep now. Slowly you walked to his bedside never taking your eyes off of his face. you trailed over every detail of his face. Every wrinkle, every mole, every hair, everything that you’d missed out on. Your body buzzed to get closer, palms itched to touch him. The urges were so powerful that the exhaustion in your body was so strong that you gave in.
Sitting at the edge of the bed you slowly reached your hand to his full beard however when you were centimeters from touching him your hand stopped. Fear stilled your actions dousing whatever urges you had moments before. Looking lower at his torso, you decided to clean him instead of putting yourself in a position where things would quickly escalate.
As you wiped away the dried blood and sweat from his body your mind drifted to admiring what you now confirmed without a doubt was heaviness from muscle. For the love of everything holy, he was built like all he did in prison for those 10 years was pump iron. You tried not to think of the pictures you’d gotten over the last week of him disappearing into the blonde dancer’s house time and time again. You tried not to think of the things that happened behind that door that your cameras couldn’t get into.
Though you tried to keep the thoughts at bay, when you got to his “Peckerwood” tattoo you couldn’t help but drift to how she touched him, how he found solace after 10 years without in her body.
“Fuck!”
You threw the rag down into the water ignoring how it cascaded over the rim and onto the wooden floors. You stood, wiped your hands, and took a safer seat, across the room where your view of his body wasn’t clear.
Knock-knock
“Come.”
In walked a cleaned-up Uki with a tray. She placed it on the table near your chair then stood there watching Ray just as you were.
“Manolo told us.”
You nodded.
“I can take first watch so you can get cleaned up,” she offered.
You didn’t answer. In truth, you barely heard her.
Knock-knock.
“Come.”
Jada and Lyn came in next and stood to your left adding their two pairs of eyes to Ray.
“Found you some clothes,” Jada breached.
“Team 2 and 3 made it home without any problems after initiating endgame. Right about now they should have an ID on the body from the fire and that ID will be a one hundred percent match for 1 Mr. Ray Merrimen,” Lyn informed.
You released a slow breath as the final piece of your plan seamlessly synced with the others laid before it. That was it then.
“Come in Keturah,” you called before the knock you knew was coming sounded.
They all snorted as Keturah walked in and approached the bed getting a good look at Ray.
“Still can’t believe this famous Ray turned out to be a white man oh.”
That was just what everyone needed to hear before they busted out laughing. It went on for so long that you felt the stress that your body had harvested slowly leave you. You looked around at your girls. They’d been with you through thick and thin and you trusted them with your life. They were always there for you, and you were more than grateful.
“He might be a well-seasoned white man,” Lyn added which made them holler with laughter.
You’d expected their teasing once they saw him in person. You’d prepared yourself for all of this. In fact, you were enjoying their teasing. You’d been tense for so long it felt good to breathe for a change. You rotated your head trying to ease your sore muscles.
“You should eat, then shower. I know you’ll hate it if he sees you for the first time looking like you spent 3 nights in a hot hut.”
You pressed the back of your hand to your cheek. “I don’t look that bad.”
“Ya’ look worse,” they all collectively said.
Your jaw dropped but they only laughed more. The six of you sat around the room and chatted as you ate the meal Uki brought in. With each passing minute, you felt more and more like yourself. In the back of your mind, your fears and anxieties were still raging but they were quieted enough that you could celebrate small victories. After, Uki stayed by Ray’s side as you showered and made yourself less of a mess.
With your mind calm that Uki was around, and Manolo was in the house you took the time to pamper yourself a little. The hot water did the job of a pair of well-trained hands and melted away the knots in your shoulders and back while the scents from the diffuser worked on your mood and stress. You’d jumped over one hurdle and there were two more waiting for you, the final one was waiting for you at home.
When you went back into the room Ray was still unconscious and Uki was there on her phone.
“Ah, you look and smell a lot better.”
“Girl shut up!”
“Seriously, you look better.”
You nodded then sighed. “I’m holding up.”
“I just got word from Junu, and he is livid.”
You nodded. It was expected. You knew this whole operation would upset him especially since he’d vehemently forbade it.
“I’ll take the blame and whatever punishment he dishes out. You guys will be safe.”
“While your father terrifies me, I won’t let you be punished alone.”
“You all were just following my orders. I will take the heat.”
Uki studied you then looked back to Ray. “Is he worth it?”
She didn’t just mean the punishment you’d take but the risk and danger. You looked at Ray and slowly approached him. You knew the answer without a shadow of a doubt.
“Till the end!”
Seconds later you heard the click of the door as it closed. You were again alone with him. This time you dragged the chair closer and sat back down hunkering down for a sleepless night.
~~~~~~~~
You awoke to heavy shuddering and grunting. You’d only closed your eyes for a moment, or so you thought. However now, Ray was seizing in the bed, body riddled with violent thrashing.
“Shit, Ray!”
You moved to the edge of the bed and noted the way his body was drenched with sweat. Once you touched him you pulled back, he was burning up.
“Shit!”
You leaped up, grabbed the bowl beside the bed, and sprinted to the bathroom to fill it with cold water. When you returned you wasted no time applying the cold wet cloth to his forehead. When his seizing intensified you hollered for help as you turned him onto his side. With one hand you took up another cloth, dipped it into the water, and placed it in his mouth so he wouldn’t bite down on his tongue. It was then the girls ran into the room in a panic.
“Get Manolo. He’s seizing and has a fever.”
“On it,” Jada shouted before she disappeared.
The others approached the bed and tried to help you keep him on the bed and wipe him down. In what felt like a lifetime Jada returned with Manolo who sprang into action. He took your spot and administered an injection into the IV he’d placed when he first got here.
“This will help the seizure.”
Within minutes Ray’s convulsions slowed until they stopped altogether. Manolo then injected another needle into the IV.
“This will bring down the fever. He’s more than likely fighting off an infection. I already gave him something for that.”
“What do we do?”
“Nothing. We wait. I know you hate that answer, but I don’t have a better one. He has to do the work now.”
After thirty minutes of monitoring, Manolo left again satisfied that the seizure did not return. After that, you didn’t dare fall asleep again. Every thirty minutes you wiped his body with cold cloths and bundled him tighter, so he felt some warmth. By the time the sun rose the next day, he hadn’t gotten any better and your stress returned tenfold. He couldn’t be moved in this state, so your flight home was delayed until he made it through the other end of this.
The day passed with each of you sitting with him making sure his fever was kept in check and his seizures were managed. He fared well during the day but when the sun disappeared his seizures returned and persisted for much of the night. By the 2nd night there he’d begun spitting up blood. Manolo was hours away from making the choice to take him to a hospital when the sun rose on the third day and with that new day came calm.
“I think he’s passed the worst of it,” Manolo said as he took his glasses off after his very thorough examination.
“Are you sure?”
“His vitals are much better. Heartrate is not quite normal yet but considering he was close to losing a lung he is doing well.”
“Why hasn’t he woken up yet?”
“Well, I induced a temporary coma to help him heal. I’ve started to wean him off so the medication I put him on should leave his system within the day. Perhaps tomorrow he’ll come to.”
“Will he live Manolo?”
“If this continues and he comes out of this tomorrow I feel good about his chances.”
You rubbed your face pressing just a bit so the tension would go.
“Thank goodness.”
“If all progresses, you should be good to fly the day after tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Manolo.”
“Aria, you’re like family. I’d do anything for you,” he said placing his hand on your shoulder. “You should rest.”
You nodded knowing those were doctor’s orders you wouldn’t be following. Not yet.
~~~~~~~
-The Next Day-
You were sitting by Ray's bedside once again after another sleepless night. Uki's question had been playing over and over in your mind like an annoying one-hit wonder that you couldn't forget. The longer you sat with the question the more it warped. No, your answer hadn't changed but you began to wonder if he would also say the same.
The last 10 years or so couldn't have been easy. No one thrived in prison. The environment wasn't conducive to that. The system needed a change if it was tasked with reforming wrongdoers. You knew being inside chipped away pieces of who you were before going in so you knew he was hardened. What you worried about was; how hardened was he. Was there any bit of the person you'd known? Or was this man laying at death's door a stranger with a monster lurking within
Knock-Knock
“Come.”
You tried to make yourself look like you hadn't been hyper-fixated on watching the man before you all night, tried to look detached and nonchalant.
“You look like shit.”
“For fuck's sake Uki!”
“What? If I looked as bad as you, one of you better keep it real and tell me the same,” she replied as she put down another tray.
“Guess you're expecting a thank you for telling me I look like shit?”
Uki shrugged and crossed her arms as she took her place beside you.
“Fuck thank you.  Just tell me you know and I'm right. That's my love language,” she joked.
However, it wasn't a joke. She did love being right. She got off on it. She constantly wore a smug look across her beautiful flawless features. It was as if she always walked with an air about her that she was higher than those around her. To tell the truth, it was one of the reasons you gravitated to one another and formed a quick friendship when you were children.
As The Viper's only daughter and heir, you knew you were above them in rank and status, and while most would relish the fact it always suffocated you. Being at the top of the food chain put you on a whole different playing field and on that field, you always had a target on your back.
“We may have trouble.”
Your head snapped to her waiting for her to continue. Of course you did, it had been way too calm and quiet.
“Razu,” Uki muttered.
Her one-word response didn't need to be followed up with anything else. You sighed so heavily that it almost sounded like the danger declaring hiss of the creature your father got his name from. Everyone knew you didn't disturb vipers; it was a “duh” rule in the animal kingdom. Do not disturb the vipers and never disturb the den. Razu was the one who never quite understood the unspoken rule.
“Where is he?”
“Downstairs with an entitled look on his face. He demands to see you.”
That almost hiss came out and filled the room this time.
“He heard whispers of you going to America and wants to talk about why.”
“Why? Ha, do I answer to him now oh?!”
Uki sighed and shrugged. “Seeing how he is…”
“Finish that sentence and we will have a serious discussion on how much of my coming punishment you will be taking.”
Uki zipped her lips with her fingers and allowed the silence to stretch.
“If he heard whispers then he probably suspects something. Our people in Los Angeles probably tipped him off.”
Your eyes slipped back to Ray. Shit, you thought.
Another near hiss escaped you.
“Yep. Either he is here to confirm his suspicions and try to use it as his proof you are not fit to take over on your own or--.”
“Ipenija is iku,”{challenge to the death},” you finished.
“Yep.”
“Fuck! There is no way Ray can do a challenge right now.”
“No. This white meat would be dead meat,” Uki teased.
“Really Uki? Right now?”
She smiled then shrugged again. She was right though. You had to make sure Razu found nothing. You reached into the bedside drawer and took out your 3 guns then checked the chambers. Locked, loaded, and ready for action. You tucked one in the front waistband of your jeans and the other in the back. You then took up your thigh holster from where it hung on one of the posts of the bed. Rather than bringing along the third gun you left it on the bedside table and patted your arsenal of knives loaded on the contraption. It was time to remind Razu who you were and who he was not.
Before you walked out of the room you looked back at Ray once more then hardened your features and resolve. Once you walked into the large living room of the opulent hacienda-style property you found Razu sitting in the largest seat in the room which was made from a slew of precious materials. One leg was crossed over the other with his ankle resting atop his knee and in his hands he played with a machete.
Your femme fetales assembled behind you in an arrowhead formation, the five of them flanking each other’s left and right. With his tamed beard, dark and smooth skin, and dangerous eyes Razu slowly broke out into a toothy smile.
“Come on Aria. I am not the enemy no need for the famous formation.”
His voice was smooth and silky like a goading predator slinking its way around to find an opening.
“I don't know Razu. You come unannounced--.”
“And unwelcomed,” Keturah added.
Razu's eyes turned to slits as he glared at Keturah.
“I suggest you keep your femmes in line or something fatal will happen to one of the pretty bitches,” Razu said.
You pulled your guns with quickness and closed the space between you to then press one gun to his temple and the other under his chin.
“Say one more fucking word about or to my femmes and the only fatal thing happening is your death by fatality. One hair on any of their heads is worth so much more than your entire existence. So, tread very, very carefully.”
The fire is Razu's eyes blazed uncontrollably. You saw how badly he wanted to speak again and retaliate but the facts were simple. You were your father's daughter. His empire would be yours soon and no matter how badly Razu wanted it he would never get it. Not by challenge, not by infiltration, and definitely not by arranged marriage.
The fire in his eyes faded and a smile spread across his face.
“Easy Aria, I simply came to make sure you were all right. The dens in LA heard you were in town. They said a lot was shaken up and the dens had to close up ranks to stay off the radar.”
You pulled back and walked back to your girls who hadn't moved an inch. They knew you were more than capable of taking care of Razu. Once in place, you spoke.
“Did your spies actually see me in LA or are they spreading false rumors?”
“Rumors? So, you weren't in LA?”
“Are you questioning me Razu? It sounds like you are but I am sure I am wrong because in order to be remotely qualified to do that, you have to be someone higher than me. Right girls?”
They each replied with confirmation. Razu's jaw clenched tightly and you knew just how badly he wanted to lash out. Smiling you watched him struggle. This was fun. It had been a while since you had fun and you realized how much you missed this.
“Why is it always rank with you?”
“Because you forget your fucking place! You are merely a sergeant in this den. One of many. You do not question me, you do not threaten me, and you definitely do not demand of me.”
“Your safety is important,” Razu carefully added.
“My safety? Do I look unsafe?”
You turned to your friends so they could inspect.
“You look safe to me,” Lyn said.
“Sure do,” Jada added
“Picture of health,” Milla chimed in.
You turned back to Razu. “I feel safe so I say you have nothing to worry about.”
Razu stared you down clearly upset this wasn't turning out the way he wanted. When you cocked your head to the side and then nudged it toward the exit Razu grumbled but stood.
“I'll head home and tell The Viper that baby Viper is doing well in Mexico.”
Your father didn't know where you were right now and you knew that Razu still suspected you had gone to the States which meant his reporting your current whereabouts would imply you had in fact been in the States. You kept your face unreadable.
“You do that. You'd just be giving him news he already knew, but whatever.”
You shrugged then examined your nails playing up how unbothered you were. As Razu walked toward the front door he chuckled.
“I'll see you at home, little Viper.”
No one moved until you heard the door close. Before they spoke you walked out of the room across the estate.
“Have them scour that room for bugs. I don't trust Razu.”
Milla nodded and walked off to get it done.
“He has definitely overstepped his bounds,” Lyn said.
“He sure has but he just revealed he has spies within our dens. I am sure my father would love to know that.”
The only great threat to queens were peasants thinking they were smarter. Your father ran a tight ship and usually got rid of those who had the balls to have big ideas. Razu's days were numbered.
“If he is going home now then he will be sure to paint a horrible picture before you arrive. We should leave tonight,” Uki proposed.
She made sense and it was probably the best move. Only 2 things were wrong. Ray was still not out of the woods yet and if you went back in a hurry Razu would know you were afraid of something. 
“Have someone watch Razu until he leaves. I want to know if he so much as pisses and it's not yellow.”
You walked away up the stairs while putting the safety back on your guns and repositioning them in the waistband of your jeans. Halfway back to the bedroom where Ray was—your bedroom you had a thought that if you took Razu out here and now When you walked inside he was still lying on the bed which was a relief and disappointment all at once. You were glad Razu hadn't tried to lure you downstairs to have his men search the house, but more worried Ray was still unconscious. You knew the longer he remained so the worse his prognosis.
You pressed your back to the door and took some deep breaths and tried to push the annoyance of Razu out of your head. Every day your list of problems increased. You felt the stinging prickle of tears behind your eyes. They were tears you’d held in for so long, tears you didn’t dare shed, tears you knew would find their way down your cheeks one way or another.
You walked across the room to the side of the bed and peered down at Ray. His bandaged wounds were speckled with bright red blood reminding you how close he’d come to dying. The even rise and fall of his chest said his breathing was evened out and he was probably not in too much danger. You sat at the edge of the bed as the urge to touch him became stronger than ever. You brought your hand closer and closer to the tattoo swooped across his chest. Your eyes locked on the ‘A’ within the ‘KingHarbor’ tattoo and within seconds you could make something else written there.
You leaned closer and closer bringing your face right over his chest and it was then you saw it. Hidden within the ‘A’ was your name. Aria.
“No fucking way,” you whispered.
You turned to the nightstand ready to switch on the lamp for more light but an empty tabletop caught your eye. The cock of the gun and the warm press to your forehead said you’d caught it too late.
“Back—the fuck—up!”
You huffed a breath out half relief half annoyance. Slowly you moved back.
“Who the fuck are you?”
You turned to face him and saw the moment recognition hit him. The stone-cold set of his face turned to wide-eyed disbelief.
“A—Aria?”
“It’s me, Ray.”
Your voice was small. You hadn’t meant for it to be at all, but it was, small and timid. Ray’s expression went from disbelief to blazing fury. You brought your eyes to the gun still pressed to your forehead.
“You’re gonna shoot me with my own gun huh.”
“I can think of a reason or two why I should,” Ray gritted out through clenched jaws.
You could hear the pain in his voice. Sighing, you shook your head. You weren’t afraid of him.
“Put the gun down, Ray.”
“Like hell I will.”
You glared at each other for long moments. You got lost in the amount of hatred you saw in his eyes. He’d never looked at you like this before, never pressed a gun to your head either. You sighed again then used the move he taught you to unarm him. However, he did not let you have your way instead, he grabbed your wrist pulled you to him, and attempted to swivel you so he could put you in a chokehold. Evading the move, you in turn swung your legs over him and sat on his thighs.
“Stop! You’re going to bust your stitches!”
Ray didn’t listen. He still fought you as if he didn’t have three bullet holes in his body.
“Ray!”
He reached for the knives in your thigh holster but you grabbed his arm instead. When he tried to use his other hand to reach for your gun you stopped him. That was when the door banged open and your Femmes rushed in guns and chosen weapons drawn to see you straddling him and holding his wrists. It looked kinky.
“Uh—didn’t waste any time huh,” Milla teased.
Ray yanked his arm away then rammed the heel of his palm into your gut. He hadn’t used all his force, but he’d used enough to send you to the foot of the bed. The action took you by surprise and stole the wind from your lungs. Your femmes cocked and raised their guns and weapons.
“Stand down,” you choked out.
Ray laid there looking at the six of you as if he didn’t trust any of you and was expecting one or all of you to make a move any second.
“Are you okay?”
You raised to your feet then rested your hands over your knee while you tried to catch your breath.
“Fine.”
“You let him catch you off guard?”
You glared at Uki.
“Didn’t expect him to—pull my own gun on me.”
“Where the fuck am I and what the fuck is going on?”
“Thu, what a way to speak to the people who you owe your life to,” Lyn spat.
“What’re you talking about?”
Your eyes fell to the bandages that were speckled red before. Now they were soaked with his blood.
“Shit, you busted the stitches,” you said making a move to him.
Ray lurched back. “Stay away from me!”
“If I do that you’ll bleed out and after everything we did to keep you alive, I’ll be pretty pissed about it.”
He surveilled you then the other five women in the room trying to gauge the level of trust he could muster in this moment.
“If we wanted to kill you, we would have stayed in our country while your so-called heist went all the way to shit,” Jada said.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
You looked at Jada slightly annoyed she brought it up already.
“Later.”
“No, now!”
“The heist went south. Enson, Bosco, they’re all dead,” you carefully broke.
“Wh—what!?”
“Donnie ran a play in your heist. He knew all the players set it up with them and used you guys as the muscle. He set you up to take the heat and fall so he could take the money. Nick knew everything from him. Your life is burned. They shot the others and Nick would have got you too if we hadn’t gotten there in time,” you explained ripping off the rest of the band-aide.
His face was blank as he processed your words then the rage returned.
“Donnie that motherfucker!”
“That he is.”
Silence filled the room and slowly you got closer and closer to him. Once close enough you sat on the edge of the bed.
“Your only option now is to disappear and by disappear I mean dead man disappear,” you finished.
“Why the fuck should I trust you?”
It was a fair question.
“She risked her fucking life to save yours. She did all this for you!”
You looked back to your girls and shook your head hoping to disengage the situation.
“It’s okay guys, wait outside.”
“So he can try something? Like hell,” Jada voiced.
“He has three bullet holes in him. I’m sure I can take him.”
They nodded knowing you could then one by one exit the room. When it was just the two of you, you opened your mouth to speak but Ray beat you to it.
“You should leave too.”
“You’re bleeding. Let me redress those then I’ll go.”
He took a few moments to contemplate your words then nodded. You kept your actions slow and careful as you got closer then took off the soaked bandages. When you wiped at the wounds he barely flinched or made a sound. You could feel his eyes boring into you keeping an eye on every move you made. You knew he didn’t trust you and you understood completely.
With needle and thread in hand, you began stitching him again. Still, Ray remained quiet the whole time he watched you. Whenever you reached for something you felt him tense underneath you even more than when you worked. Was he really that leery of you?
“Where am I?”
“Mexico.”
He scoffed. “Mexico. Is this where you’ve been living it up in a Mexican hacienda?”
“Living it--,” you began but trailed off. Before you spoke again, you scoffed. “No.”
“Right. Is this your place?”
“It—belongs to my father.”
You peeped up and met his eyes and instantly regretted it. His eyes were cold, dead, and filled with anger.
“And those women? Who are they?”
You tied off the thread then reached for the alcohol bottle on the side table.
“This is going to hurt.”
In your other hand, you took up the tequila there and held it out to him.
“No. Go ahead,” Ray said not even trying to hide the distrust in his eyes.
You shrugged and took a chug from the tequila bottle then poured the alcohol. You watched Ray stiffen as the burn rushed through him. The veins in his neck and forehead pulsated just beneath his skin, his face got redder and the muscles all across his torso flexed and bulged giving you a show for the first time how much he'd changed. Before you right now was a very grown man, a very gorgeous grown man, a man you probably didn't know anymore. His groan cane out agonized and tight. Wanting to help you leaned forward and blew onto the freshly stitched and taut skin hoping to provide some relief for him.
You kept your eyes level with his chest and focused on blowing in a way that kept the air coming from you cool. You took up the cloth and dabbed the excess antiseptic from his bruised flesh taking care to be gentle the closer you got to his wounds. You happened to glance up and found his eyes on you. The anger in his eyes was gone as was the right clench of his jaw. He looked as if he were in some sort of trance. You didn't stop blowing but moved for the wound salve waiting to be applied on the table. Slowly, you spread some across each bullet wound. With every touch, Ray sucked in a breath like a startled gasp. You didn't know if it was entirely from the pain he had to have been on or something else.
By the time you taped down a few thick squares of gauze, the door banged open.
“Ah, you're awake. Good,” Manolo exclaimed. “How is he, Aria?”
“He busted open his stitches so I did the whole song and dance and voila,” you explained.
“It looks good. How do you feel amigo?”
“Who are you?”
“The doctor who helped save your life,” Manolo dryly said.
“This is Manolo. I've known him most of my life. He's a good doctor and an even better man,” you informed as you moved from his side to rinse your hands in the bowl of water beside the bed.
“How do you feel?”
“Like I've been shot.”
“Oh, my friend you have been…3 times. One of them was centimeters from your lung, another a hair from puncturing your heart. Jeez, I don't know which angel you have looking out for you but I need her.”
Manolo approached him and began taking his vitals, you sifted to the back of the room to watch on. Ray's eyes slipped from you to Manolo then back to you as if he expected either of you to make a move against him. Was this because of you or had prison made him this way? Milla slipped inside and came to stand beside you. She now had Ray's full attention. With her voice low, she spoke.
“Razu has men watching the hacienda from all directions. If we plan on leaving without him knowing there is only one option.”
You nodded and locked eyes with Ray.
“Is he ready to move Manolo?”
“He’s a walking miracle. I think he's good to fly.”
“I'm not going anywhere with you people.”
All eyes moved to him each with different emotions radiating from them. You sighed.
“Do you think you have a choice?”
Ray narrowed his eyes at Milla's question.
“Yeah, I do. I don't know you from Adam.”
“What else do you need to know besides I--.”
The door opened and the rest of your Femmes walked in and flanked your side assuming formation without even realizing it.
“We saved your life,” Milla continued.
“Enough. This is Milla, Lyn, Jada, and Uki. These are my Femme Fetales, you explained.
“Femme Fetales? What's with the name?”
“Let's hope you never have to find out,” Keturah slid in.
“If you don't come with us, what's your plan? Go back to LA? Wander around alone? Get into some more shit with some more untrustworthy fucks?”
“Those were my brothers! And now they're fucking gone!”
“I know and I know what a deep cut that is. I know you're angry but being angry doesn't mean you have to be stupid. I don't think you get it. Right now your only option is to disappear. No, returning to LA, no lone wolf shit.”
He studied you and you could see the storm of emotions swirling inside of him. He was rightfully angry. His world shifted yet again. When he didn't speak for a few minutes you sighed again.
“Well stay one more night, give you some time to think it over. If tomorrow you decide you still don't want to go with us then fine. You be on your way and we'll be on ours no questions no debates.”
“Aria,” Uki began but you held your hand up to stop her.
“Everyone out.”
“Would you like something for the pain?”
Ray shook his head and watched everyone pour out of the room one by one. When it was just you, he raised a brow.
“You too.”
You scoffed having half expected it. As you walked to the door he watched you. Before leaving you looked back at him.
“The windows have sensory alarms so they’re sensitive to touch and movement, you’re also three stories up. Patrol outside might miss you if you jump but the perimeter patrol won’t. You’re free to leave but use the front door. It’s safest. Say goodbye first.”
“Like you did?”
For the second time, you felt as if you’d been kicked in the gut and gotten the wind knocked out of you. Low blow, you thought as you nodded and left him. Pressing your back to the door you took several calming breaths and then walked down the hall to the kitchen. You needed a drink—bad!
~~~~~~~
-The Next Day-
“Did you sleep at all?”
You scoffed as you filled your coffee cup with freshly brewed Pu-erh tea. With the sleep you hadn’t been getting and the day ahead that you foresaw, you desperately needed it.
“Sleep? Don’t know her.”
Keturah snorted and shook her head. “I don’t know how you do it.”
You took a lengthy sip from the cup and moaned. “God that’s good.”
“Morning workout?”
“Just a little meet-up with the punching bag.”
“Ah, is this aggression release or sexual tension release?”
You snorted and shook your head before you took another sip from your mug.
“He is ripped, Aria.”
“That he is.”
“He is also a distrustful ingrate,” she added.
You laughed.
“The only reason he is getting a pass is because his friends are gone and he almost died.”
“He doesn’t trust me,” you solemnly said.
You could wallow in it, matter of fact you had already. The entire night you wallowed and sulked because his distrust of you was so evident, so strong that it tore you apart. You’d wallowed until you were at dirt level. Now, in the light of morning, you couldn’t afford to anymore.
“You sure he’s still up there?”
“If he can plan to break into the reserve and steal millions of dollars I am sure he can manage to sneak out of somewhere without raising alarms,” you said.
“Legend,” Keturah muttered.
He sure was. If Donnie hadn’t been a little asshole this heist would have gone down as an incredible legend. It was practically flawless. As Keturah filled you in on any new developments you flitted around the kitchen to put together some breakfast for him. The others rolled into the kitchen and brought you up to date with the new developments but then the conversation shifted to plans and prep to leave. When you gave the go-ahead to get ready to take off in an hour, you walked out with a tray full of food on your way to Ray’s room.
As you stood outside you contemplated if you should just try the door or knock first. You reached for the handle, turned, and cocked your head to the side when you realized it was open. With caution, you walked inside and found Ray walking out of the bathroom, shirtless with a towel hung low around his waist. What was air? You no longer knew because it ceased to enter your lungs. Your jaw hung open and eyes roamed all the skin on display. You remembered Keturah’s words from minutes ago and though you’d agreed then, those words were now your gospel. He was ripped like no one’s business.
“Holy shit,” you mumbled.
“No knock?’
You met his eyes then realized what you were doing. “Ehm. Sorry. I uh—I honestly didn’t expect you to still be in here.”
“You and me both,” Ray answered.
“Well, I brought you poison-free breakfast. Freshly made and still hot.”
You placed the tray on the bed then backed up when you felt him walking toward the food. He looked over the tray then at you then back at the food. You watched him ease down onto the bed then dig into the double stacks of pancakes, eggs, sausage, and tater tots. When he dipped a matter tot into the grape jelly you smiled, comforted that at least that was the same. The man loved his sweets.
You didn't know how long you stood there watching him eat but in no time at all the plate was empty and he was gulping down the tea you'd given him.
“Tea is not my thing.”
“I know but you were just shot and still recovering caffeine is on the list of no foods for a while longer.”
Ray stared at you with squinted eyes and underneath the scrutiny of his eyes you has to look away but your eyes went back to his body. God he looked good, you thought. Again your eyes went to the “A” part of his chest tat and stared.  He'd tattooed your name on him. If he'd done that he couldn’t hate you could he?
“What game are you playing? Whatever it is I don't want any parts of it this time,” Ray said, draining the hot tea.
“I'm not playing any game, never have.”
“Right.”
You'd had enough. “Look say what you gotta say, I've had enough with the passive-aggressive you. Speak your heart, because we gotta move. I don't like being away from home after a job for too long.”
“Home? Funny I thought LA was your home, that I was…”
He trailed off leaving the words unspoken but still felt.
“Guess things change.  You had no problem leaving LA and staying gone for 10 years. Had no problem letting me take the fall, the time, and all that came with it! No problem using me!”
“Okay, you wanna do this now? Fine!”
You pulled up a chair and sat in front of him. “I never used you. I also never asked you to take the fall for me. That was you, Ray!”
“Bullshit! You made a fucking choice and it wasn't me.”
“You told me to run. I ran.”
“Without hesitation you sure did.”
“Oh come on Ray! You don't know how hard that was for me. You have no idea what the fuck I've been through because of that night,” you spat.
“You!? I went to fucking prison Aria. Me! You disappeared. You never visited, never wrote, never called. Nothing! It was me doing the time alone. Me dealing with all that shit for 10 years. You abandoned me!”
His words hurt like 10 thousand blades slicing at your heart. He really had no idea and was just fine looking to the worst as the explanation.  The fury rolling off of him doused your anger. In a way, you guessed it was true. You had disappeared. You didn't call, write or visit. You did run when he told you to. Everything he said was true at surface level.
“I didn't want to leave you, Ray. I wanted to stay and take my chances, serve the time with you.”
“Bullshit! Don't fucking lie to me Aria. I've had 10 years to sit with your lies. 10 years to comb through every lie you said, every lie you weaved into your movements, every lie spoken with your touch. The ledger is in the red, Aria. You can never pay it!”
He was right. You couldn't make up for what happened. It was too late too much had happened. You'd been stupid to think that if you just showed up again things would work themselves out. Even if he knew the whole story nothing would change. You clenched your jaw trying to stop yourself from crying.
“I'm sorry.”
Ray scoffed harshly.
“Fuck your sorries. They mean jack shit.”
This one wasn't a blade. It was a bullet and it made dead center impact. Unable to control yourself you stood and stalked to the door keeping your face turned from him. Before you walked out you stopped and took a breath.
“We're wheels up in an hour. The choice is yours on what to do.”
You grabbed the doorknob and half walked out but stopped again. “Every word I've ever said to you, every action, every touch, every single moment was never a lie. I got you. ‘Till the end imma ride wit’ you. I meant that on everything.”
You rushed from the room knowing you were seconds from exploding with every emotion you'd caged in the last 10 years. You zipped past your girls who'd no doubt heard the shouting and hightailed it to the shooting range under the house where you fired round after round at nearly every target there hitting dead center every time. As you released bullet after bullet tear after tear fell filling the endless well you now knew you'd carry the rest of your life.
An hour later you'd pulled yourself together and were clean, dressed, and strapped up ready to face your shit like the grown-ass woman you were and the queen you were set to become.
“Everything good?
“Yep. Is everyone here?”
No one answered which told me Ray wasn't here. You nodded and took a slow breath in.
“Did you give him the heist money and some gear?”
“An hour ago,” Uki replied.
“All right then. Let's go home.”
You pressed the elevator button and the doors opened.
“Where is home?”
Ray's deep baritone washed over you stunning you still.
“Why?”
“I would like to know where I'm going before I get there,” he answered.
Your head snapped back to him and your eyes locked. Hope swirled within you and it was stronger than any other emotion. It truly was dangerous.
“Nigeria.”
His brow crooked. “Hm, I've always liked the heat.”
“Let's see if you can take it, white boy,” Jada teased.
They all giggled and you caught a ghost of a smile on Ray's lips and your stomach flipped. Shit, you thought. You didn't need this right now.
“You have your money. Why not just take it and go?”
“I still might but right now I have nowhere I need to be.”
You nodded, hearing the words between his words.
“Let's move.”
You got in the elevator and everyone else piled in after you. Once under the compound you took to the escape tunnel and followed the 2 miles until you climbed back to ground level where the truck waited. After loading the bags, you sped away knowing Razu would have never seen this move coming.
It didn't take long to get to the jet and when you were securely in the air and exiting Mexican airspace you began to breathe more freely. For the first hour or so Ray kept to himself. He didn't speak or interact he just watched everything. It was a strength of his and soothing he'd honed in the services. By the time hour 4 came around Milla, Lyn, and Keturah had pulled him into a card game where they grossly took advantage until he got the hang of it. Then the tides turned in his favor.
Slowly he looked like he was beginning to fit in, and it made you relax a little more. Four and a half hours after takeoff, you were landing toward the coast where you would take a boat to the compound. Being the serviceman he was, Ray constantly checked the perimeter with one hand on his gun and the other hooked in the bulletproof vest he wore. He looked like a fish out of water amongst the backdrop of dessert colored dirt, rocky mountains, and free-roaming elephants, Zebras, and Antelope but at the same time, he looked like he belonged. Perhaps that was wishful thinking.
“Home, oh!”
You looked out to the palatial compound that rivaled the vastness of The Alamo and smiled. While you felt like a caged bird at times you loved being home.
“That is home?”
“Home sweet home,” Lyn added.
“Jesus, who are you people?”
They giggled while you focused on your return. You could already see movement and knew everyone around was gathering. Once the boat docked you unloaded and made your way to the walls. The men on patrol there were starting at Ray like he had three heads.
“Ehm!”
The guards shook out of their stupor and then opened the gate allowing you to enter. As you walked through, they saluted you with the respect you deserved. However, before you made it to the house you heard the murmurs of the arrival of the man you knew you'd have to answer to sooner or later. Everyone around except for you and Ray dropped to one knee while bending one arm at the elbow and clenching a tight fist. Your father's salute. You looked to Ray he was clearly confused but not intimidated.
The 6-and-a-half-foot man approached you with a stern look on his face and dressed like the world's best businessman. When he stood in front of you, Ray still didn't drop to his knee. You didn't know if it was ignorance of who was before him or indifference. If it was indifference, you were highly turned on. As your father eyed you trying to intimidate you into submitting you stood there head high, eyes locked on his not wavering. Your father's eyes shifted to Ray and you took a sidestep to stand in front of him.
“I'm home baba.”
Your father’s eyebrow crooked. “Baba? You still recognize me as your baba? You still recognize me as the leader of this organization?!”
Everyone continued to murmur as they felt the air shift from his anger.
“Of course.”
He scoffed. “I explicitly told you to stay out of the States. I told you that you can't break him out. I told you so many things and they were all ignored by you. All disobeyed!”
“Baba, I couldn't just sit here anymore. I had to.”
He stared at you, eyes still blazing with anger but slowly his features cooled. “You accomplished it too, I am impressed.”
You smiled.
“But what if I would have lost you? What then? Did you plan that far in your elaborate schemes?”
“You raised me and I had my Femme Fetales, how could you lose me?”
He sighed, shook his head then cupped your cheek. “You are of my blood, I don't know why I was surprised. I'm surprised it took you this long.”
You smirked.
“Fine.”
Your Father's eyes shifted back to Ray who was still standing.
“Still standing I see.”
“I bow to no one,” Ray defiantly exclaimed in that nonchalant voice of his.
Your father cocked his brow then laughed heartily. “Is that so?”
“Viper, it's been settled,” one of the men informed bowing his has to your father.
Ray's eyes went wide. “Viper? As in The Viper? The most feared and respected man in the game? The man who is at the top of everyone's wanted list and who has a hand and foot in every country and every market? That viper?”
Your father looked impressed. “And if I was that Viper?”
Ray looked at you then back to your father. “Then you'd have a lot more of my respect.”
He laughed again. “Interesting. Still standing?”
“I told you; I bow to no one.”
Your father smirked. “If you stay here when she takes over I can't wait to see you eat those words.”
He and Ray squared off both stating the other down as if sizing each other up. You knew your father was trying to gauge what kind of a man he was and get a feel of what value he posed. Usually, he was a great judge of character, but you wondered if he’d be biased because of the past, because of what Ray was to you.
“Everyone back to work.”
All the soldiers began walking away clearing the center but when you began to move he spoke again. “Everyone except Ray. We have plenty to talk about.”
You once again leaped in front of Ray shielding him. “No way.”
His eyes dipped down to yours and he mischievously smirked. “Why?”
“Because I know you. To punish me and prove a point you would kill him.”
Your father put his hand over his chest. “You wound me, princess. I promise I won’t kill him much less lay a hand on him. However, if he can’t so little as take a beating then maybe he’s not an asset here.”
“Baba he’s already taken 3 bullets, 2 came close to his heart and lung.”
“And I’ve taken a bullet right in the head and I lived to talk about it and run this empire. Near a lung and heart is child’s play.”
You opened your mouth to counter, but your father’s voice boomed over yours. “Either I talk to him alone now or I will see if he can take a bullet to the head and live. What’s 4 bullets?”
You knew better than to push him. He was your father, and he was soft on you, but he was still in charge. You hated it when he threw his weight around like this. Gritting your teeth, you sidestepped.
“Go and make sure everything is okay with the mission for tomorrow night.”
With one more glance at Ray, then your father you walked off. If Ray was going to survive here he had to learn how to fend for himself. What better opponent to start with than the king himself?
-Ray-
The fucking viper. He’d heard countless stories of this man’s empire. In LA there were plenty of his viper dens, plenty of his people dealing in so much shit. His gambling den was always packed and usually, the place everyone went for information, and that was just one of his businesses. He’d had no idea his reach came this far. Africa. Holy shit, he thought. They’d walked to a more secluded part of the compound, a part that looked like a luxury desert oasis.
He watched Viper sit, pull out something wrapped in brown paper then light it. With one puff came another and another until he was surrounded by white fragrant smoke. He took a deep breath in. It had been a long time since he’d had one of these. With parole checks and shit like that, he had to stay clean of everything.
“Here. Live a little.”
He held a similar one to him. He took it and mirrored his actions until he’d taken one long puff of his own. He groaned long and loud which brought a laugh from the giant’s mouth across from him.
“10 long years without one huh.”
He took in this man in a designer suit, diamonds, and gold. He had no idea you knew The Viper. It dawned on him then that he probably didn’t know anything about you anymore.
“I will give you one piece of advice and a warning all wrapped in one. Never have daughters because they will cripple you worse than any bullet ever could.”
Once he’d said the words it didn’t take him long to piece it together. Daughter.
“Aria is your daughter.”
He nodded. “She didn’t tell you.”
He sighed and took another lengthy puff. “One of many things I’m sure. I’m not surprised anymore.”
“Sounds a lot like animosity.”
He sighed but remained silent. He was bitter—very bitter.
“I’m sorry about your brothers. I know a loss like that—is a serious blow especially not being able to say goodbye.”
He balled his free hand. he’d hit the nail right on the head.
“If I know Aria and I do, she’s already found your snitch and he’ll be gift-wrapped to you by tonight.”
He snapped his eyes to the viper. “What’re you talking about?”
He sighed and blew out a puff of smoke. “I suppose it’s time to come clean.”
A few moments passed in silence, and he waited as patiently as he could.
“12 years ago I knew the moment you met, and I knew from that moment every move either of you made. I knew every secret rendezvous, every phone call, text message, every mini heist, every small job, every crazy scheme, and plan. Aria had no clue I knew and though I was leery about you, hell any man who wanted my daughter’s attention. She’s my only child and the future of this empire. But I like to give her small freedoms, so I let her live, I let her think she was living this secret life and I kept watch as the two of you fell in love—to my complete dislike. Of all people, a white boy oh.”
He kissed his teeth, then sighed. “I thought—hoped it would be young love, a fling, but I knew the night she shielded you from that vato, we’d move way past that.”
His interest was piqued but his gut rolled as if he knew he wouldn’t like what came next.
“The night of that lift off the PerriP crew I had my most trusted guys watching her. I knew the deeper in she got with you the more risk she would take. So when the shit hit the fan and you guys figured out there was a snitch you got cornered. They reported it to me, and I relayed my orders. Get her out at all costs.”
He paused again to take another drag from the substance lit between his fingers.
“When you told her to run, and you decided to burn yourself to save her I knew she would have stayed right there with you no matter what. You got separated it wasn’t because she actually ran. my men came in and sedated her to get her out.”
Everything felt like it collapsed then, his vision went tunnel, heart pounded painfully and loudly.
“What!?”
“My men followed my orders and when she came to, she killed several good men in an effort to get back to you. Of course, I couldn’t allow that. Within 2 hours, she was on the jet back here.”
As his heart thudded more painfully he pressed his hand over it. All this time, he thought.
“For the last 10 years, she’s been forbidden from making contact, forbidden from stepping foot in the States, forbidden from doing anything that he didn’t approve of. She hated my order and rebelled like hell. For years she hated me. I’m sure she still hates me for it, but I knew without a doubt that she would have served that stint with you. As her father, I couldn’t allow that.”
In the span of five minutes, his entire world had shifted. Everything he believed was flipped.
“You may resent me for it but, even knights are meant to be sacrificed for the queen.”
He met your father’s eyes and saw aloofness. He didn’t look remorseful, but he could see something that he thought was close. He wasn’t sorry nor did he regret his decisions, but he felt badly.
“Since the day she landed here, she’s been keeping tabs on you. She knew about your life on the inside and kept her ears to the ground so she knew when to step in if she had to. She was the reason you only served 10 instead of the 20 they wanted to give you. She wanted to break you out, but I wouldn’t allow it because that move would jeopardize my empire because of all the moving parts and people in law enforcement and government it would have taken. I don’t like to cash in debts.”
As your father spoke he sat there thinking about the last 10 to 12 years of his life. The happy years with you then the darkness of the last 10.
“She knew about your heist plan, knew about Donnie but she let it play out because she had a bigger plan. She managed to be one step ahead of everything and executed her plans seamlessly. She went against me and my orders and put the entire den in jeopardy just to step in and save you. She did all this for one man.”
He sounded as if he were in disbelief.
“Were you worth it?”
He scoffed. Was he?
“I see a lot of myself in you. Your ferocity, brains, drive, creativity, and foresight, I see so much potential for you here. I’m impressed with what you can offer the den. I always have been. Now that she’s gone through all this effort it is clear to me that how she felt then never died, it lives still. The proof has always been clear to me though I was reluctant to accept it. She is my princess, and no one is worthy of her. However, it’s become time for me to step aside and let her choose who stands beside her. I’ll offer you a spot in my empire, a place in the Den of Vipers, but the role is up Aria.”
He couldn’t believe his ears. All these years, all this time. Everything he’d thought was real wasn’t, everything was wrong. Your father stood then patted him on his shoulders.
“Take some time to think about it. Let me know when you’ve decided.”
With that, he walked off leaving him sitting there in this oasis with a head full of thoughts and a heart aching in more ways than one.
-Aria-
It had been nearly 2 hours now. What the fuck could they be talking about for so long? Being home you were supposed to be at ease but during your soak in the tub, you hadn't felt any ease. You were as tense and worried as ever. Not even half a bottle of rum had helped. You paced your room in your mid-thigh length robe as you thought about your options. Your father was pissed with you but you knew he wouldn't be too harsh. If you interrupted whatever they were doing he wouldn't punish you for it.
With your mind made up you flung your door open the gasped seeing Ray standing on the other side. Immediately he took your breath away. Mere hours ago, his eyes still held anger and mistrust in them. Now they were softer. What in the world had happened?
“Uh…what’re you doing here?”
“We need to talk.”
You crooked your brow. Now he wanted to talk? Without waiting for your reply, Ray walked into your bedroom leaving you stunned. He couldn’t wait to get away from you before, now he was barging into the viper's den. After closing the door, you cautiously walked in. Ray was at the window scanning the perimeter. When he turned his eyes roamed over you taking in your attire. When he realized how little you had on, he turned his head then breathed out heavily.
“How did you find me?”
“I asked.”
“And everyone was so willing to give you, an outsider, the location of--.”
“The next Viper in line to rule?”
You took him in. Your father had told him.
“Your father must have given me the green light around here,” he said.
“What? After 1 conversation? What in the hell did you talk about? Did he pull a gun on you?”
“Nope. He gave me some weed.”
You gaped then shook your head because it sounded like something your father would do. “So, he gave you weed then approved your access, and bam here you are.”
“10 years of secrets. Don’t you think it’s time to come clean?”
You studied him for a few moments then sat at the foot of your bed.
“What’re you talking about?”
“I did 10 years for you. The least you could do is be honest.”
“You keep saying that like I made you take the fall, like--.”
“Like you didn’t leave me?”
“Ray you told me to run. I did!”
“Yeah, you did. You ran never looked back then disappeared.”
You pinched your nose bridge then pressed across your forehead. He had no idea.
“If I looked back I knew I wouldn’t be able to leave. I knew that we’d both get caught and then we’d both be fucked. I wanted to go back so bad Ray. I knew I could convince my father to plan a jailbreak for you before any sentencing even happened but then some of my father’s men grabbed me and the next thing I knew I was on a plane halfway across the ocean. I tried to get back. I swear I did but--.”
“Even knights are meant to be sacrificed for the queen,” Ray said in such a way that an eerie feeling washed over you.
He’d talked to your father. Those were his exact words to you when you tried to plead your case to go back for Ray or even plan a jailbreak. He’d told him everything.
“He told you.”
“Yeah, he told me.”
“And you’re still angry with me? Why?”
“There is nothing and no one that could keep me away from you. All it took was daddy’s words for you to give up on me.”
You sprang to your feet then, anger bubbling in your gut. “You don’t know my father. He would have killed you just so you weren’t a distraction for me anymore. I stayed away to keep you alive. I didn’t give up on shit. All these years I’ve been watching. All these years I’ve been trying to keep you safe. Do you have any fucking idea how exhausted I am?!”
“I don’t need your fucking protection Aria! I didn’t then and I don’t now! I—I fucking needed you!”
Your eyes were locked on his, jaw tight as a slew of emotions swirled within you. Ray was the kind of man who was quiet but expressive. When you were together those 2 years he wasn’t overtly expressive about his feelings. What he didn’t say in words, he said in plenty of other ways. However, when he used words he always took your breath away. Now, today was no different.
Slowly you watched his eyes fill with something else other than anger. Something—heart-wrenching.
“I needed you on visiting days. I needed you at nights. I needed you in the depressing darkness of the hole. I needed you in every fight, every attempt someone made to prove I was weak. I needed to know I still had you.”
Ray turned from you and looked out of the window again. Your tears fell from your eyes, and it hit you then. Yes, he was angry with you, but he was angrier at the situation you found yourselves in. Where you’d had 10 years to accept the shit, he’d just had it all flung at him. Ray’s shoulders were slouched, hanging low as if he now had all the world’s weight on them.
You wanted to touch him, but you were scared he’d shrug you off. So, you kept your distance but after a few minutes the urge became too strong, and you slowly crossed the room until you stood right behind him. Raising your hand, it took forever to close the space to his shoulder. When you laid your hand on his skin, he didn’t move or lash out.
“I felt like such a fucking fool to have burned myself for you. I took you disappearing as you proving how untrue you were that you didn’t mean anything you said. I hated you so much. I wished such horrible things on you but with every horrible wish, I felt worse and worse. I hated myself and--.”
You dipped under one of his arms that were pressed on the windowpane and came face to face with him. Holding his face in your hands you found the last of your courage.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered.
Ray raised his eyes and peered into your tear-filled ones. You repeated the words you’d wanted to say for years. You said them again and again and with each apology Ray melted. The tension in his shoulders crumbled.
“I’m sorry,” Ray croaked out.
It was your turn to melt. Within seconds of those words escaping his lips, you both crashed into one another, lips colliding for the first time in a decade. You’d often wondered if this was possible after everything, and if it were, how would it happen. Would it be slow and tender, teasing, and hesitant? It was neither. Ray kissed you with a hardness that wasn’t there 10 years ago. He kissed you as if he loved you and hated you all at once like he wanted to suck the very air from your lungs to have a piece of you with him always or to kill you so no one could ever have you. His kiss was delightful and torture, familiar but foreign.
Your lips and tongues wrestled never remaining still for long. He swirled his around yours, and you sucked his until he groaned. When Ray pressed your back against the window the hardness of his body made you whimper. This was the body of a fully grown man, not some young adult. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. In response, Ray dipped down and lifted you into the air so you could wrap your legs around his waist.
All of this was muscle memory. Your body never forgot him. How could it? He’d been your first in so many things. You bit down on his bottom lip dragging a fierce groan from him. Ray pressed into you giving you the first feel of his hardness.
“Fuck!”
Like a command received, Ray quickly yanked open your robe then cupped your breasts. His hands were rough, calloused, and larger than you remember. Using his thumbs he flicked your hardened nipples sending jolts of pleasure through you that settled in your core and turned to molten lava.
“Now! I can’t wait anymore,” you rushed out in between kisses.
Ray must have felt the same urgency because he released your breasts then lowered his hands to fumble with his pants. As he freed himself then kicked the pants off they went across the room and banged into one of the lamps bringing it clattering to the floor. With the room in half darkness, Ray locked eyes with you and a second later he split you in half sending his large, thick cock to the hilt.
“Aah! Fuck!”
Ray shuddered as he pressed his forehead to your collar. When he pulled back he rammed himself inside of you again making you throw your head back into the window.
“Ugh!”
His thrusts started slow and punishing. Each quick flick of his hips sent a powerful message that both your brain and body received. You held on to him afraid he’d disappear and you’d realize this was yet another dream. His hands tightened around your hips then he moved you against him, so he was directing his hardness into you the way he wanted, the speed he wanted. Every time he sank into you, your body shook, and goosebumps peppered your skin.
Soon, you both were panting, grunting, and groaning as you fucked right in front of the window not caring who could see. He turned, leaning his back on the wall as he locked eyes with where your bodies were joined.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Uuuugh!”
“Fuck me, Ray. Fuck me!”
That was just what he did. His thrusts were unrelenting, his power all-encompassing and with every minute your pleasure became so intense you knew you would break in half once you came. Ray tightened his grip then moved you more forcefully against him losing all control. The veins in his neck protruded as he lost himself to the pleasure you were sure he could only find with you.
You felt him walking across the room then your positioning changed as he sat you on top of him.
“Take all this dick, Aria!”
He slapped your ass, and it was all the encouragement you needed. You planted your hands on his shoulder then slowly lifted your body up only to slide back down. He felt so good. Ray dropped his head back and closed his eyes. Every time he almost slipped from your heat he bit down on his bottom lip. Then when you sank down on him his nose scrunched. Soon you were bouncing on him using the power and skill of your hips and ass.
Ray gripped your derriere, spread your cheeks then thrust up.
“Mmm!”
That one thrust unlocked something inside of you, something rabid and primal. Raising onto your feet you bounced on him increasing your speed until sweat rolled down your bodies. You pressed your lips to his and kissed him with as much heat as you felt within. It was heat he returned.
“Mm, I’ve missed your tight little pussy.”
Locking eyes with him you bit his bottom lip. “Show me.”
Ray stood, pulled you off him then pushed you over the chair so your ass was propped up like a gift for him. Without warning he slammed into you making you fling your head back. Ray’s hand wrapped around your throat as he held you in the position you were in. With your back arched creating a ‘u’ shape along your spine he lowered his lips to your upside-down ones and kissed you senseless. When he pulled his lips from yours he fucked into you with reckless abandon. Every stroke make you shout his name and every time you did he only fucked you harder and harder.
In no time at all you were seeing stars and your body was begging for mercy. You didn’t dare listen though. When you felt his teeth sinking into your shoulder you screamed from the pain but your body convulsed from the pleasure.
“Still like a little pain with your pleasure huh.”
Ray pulled from your body. You turned to him on shaky legs and peered at him through lust-clouded eyes. He hoisted you into the air again then slid you down on his length. Again you kissed him as he began his torturous pleasure all over again. When you tasted copper, you pulled back to realize you’d bitten his lip and drawn blood. Ray smirked then slammed you into a wall and jackhammered into you.
“Yes!”
“Is this still my pussy, Aria?”
“Yes.”
“Do I still own it?”
“Yes!”
“Ah, ah, ah!”
With each thrust, you could feel his body shaking. He was close and you wanted everything from him. You were tired of the last 10 years of longing. You wanted everything now.
“I love you, Ray.”
His brow quirked then his face scrunched and that was when you felt him release deep inside of you. It was a release that triggered yet another orgasm from you and brought darkness with it as your body exploded.
When you opened your eyes you were in your bed naked and sore.
“What the--.”
“Welcome back.”
Beside the bed, Ray sat just as naked as you. It all came back then, and you couldn’t hide the smile that spread across your face.
“Was I too rough?”
You glanced at his chest and saw the blood soaking the bandages. You jerked up. “What happened?”
“I’m fine. Some of the stitches popped.”
You slowly looked around the room and saw everything was in disarray. Lamps were broken on the floor, sheets and clothes littered everywhere, broken glass and furniture were here and there, and blood was smeared on some of the walls and your body.
You snorted, “Just like old times I see.”
Ray smirked.
“I’m sorry,” Ray began.
“Don’t. Let’s stop with the apologies here and now. No more. We missed so much time, so much was missed out on. I don’t want to miss it anymore. I don’t want to keep going like this Ray. I can’t. I miss you so fucking much I can’t breathe. I’ve loved you for 12 years and I don’t see it ever changing.”
Ray walked over to you, his hard cock bobbing in the air. Once beside the bed, he took your hands and raised you to your knees so you were in front of him. When his hand cupped your cheek you melted.
“This is the second time I’ve lost everything. Now I have nothing else, and I don’t want to lose you again. I can’t.”
His hand slid to the back of your neck to cup your skull. “I have loved you since I was 20 years old. A decade later not a damn thing has changed. I will love you for the rest of my life.”
Your tear slipped from your eye and Ray’s thumb swiped it away.
“Do you mean that? Do you forgive me?”
“I mean it.”
Rau brought your face closer and gazed deeper into your eyes.
“‘Till the end Imma ride wit’ you. There’s nothing to forgive.”
You scrunched your face and tried to contain yourself. “Ray,” you whispered, voice full of emotion.
“Tell me again,” he pleased.
You pressed your forehead to his. “I love you Ray Merrimen. “I got you. ‘Till the end Imma ride wit’ you.”
He smiled and then pulled you into a searing kiss, a kiss that revived your very heart and set your soul on fire. This man was all you wanted and all you would ever need.
“Your father offered me a spot here. He said the role is up to you though.
You held your breath waiting for him to finish.
“I want it. So tell me what role you want me to have?”
“You cupped his bearded jaw.
“I want you next to me.”
He smiled then slowly nodded.
“As your knight?”
You pulled him closer.
“As the king in my den because every queen needs a king.”
Ray laid you down then climbed on top of you ready to make you blackout again but a knock on your door stopped him.
“What?”
“It’s here,” Uki’s voice sounded.
You smiled. “I got you a present.”
“What present?”
“Come.”
The two of you dressed, you in your robe and Ray only in his pants. He didn’t even bother cleaning up the blood off his skin. you like it, he looked fierce. Once you made it outside to the center of the compound, the men had gathered. You glanced at Uki who smirked and nodded at you clearly knowing what had gone down and that Ray would now be a permanent face around here.
“What’s going on?”
“Consider this your welcome present. A token of my undying love.”
The men parted to reveal someone kneeling in the center with a burlap bag over their head. Ray looked at you with confusion.
“Open your present, my king.”
Ray approached the body then yanked off the burlap and came face to face with Donnie. When Donnie looked up at him the terror in his eyes faded.
“Ray—Ray help me. What the fuck is going on?”
Ray looked back at you, and you smiled wider nodding at him. You approached and stood beside him.
“Who’s this?”
“The Viper.”
Donnie’s eyes widened. You loved when your family’s reputation preceded you.
“Fuck, wha—wha—.”
“Shh. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You’re not?”
“No. I have no quarrel with you. It’s him you have to worry about.”
Donnie looked at Ray again. You leaned forward to Donnie’s ear.
“He knows what you did. He knows everything you did,” you whispered.
Donnie now looked horrified. You smiled when you stood upright again then laughed.
“Ray look man don’t listen to her. She’s lying. I didn’t have anything to do with any of that. Shit just went south. I don’t know how Nick knew about the heist. I don’t know how the money went missing.”
“How did you know the money went missing if everyone who knew that is dead?”
Donnie stuttered at Ray’s question. He’d given himself away.
“Fuck. I’m sorry man. I just--.”
“Shhh,” you repeated. “What was it that you like to say—oh right. You’re in complete control of your environment?”
He looked like he was ready to piss himself. You smirked deviously. “Guess what. You’re in my environment. You always have been in my environment. My den sees and hears everything.”
Ray stared at Donnie with so much anger that you wondered how he’d handle this. Donnie was the reason his brothers were dead. He looked at you.
“Whatever you want,” you said.
Ray nodded then kissed you sloppily making you moan. He then pressed his forehead to yours.
“Gun.”
You repeated the order and took the gun that was given to you to hand to Ray. Donnie then began pleading using every slick word he could find to plead with Ray not to do it.
“I’ll get you the money back.”
“How can you give something you don’t have? I took the money back already.”
Donnie dropped to the ground realizing he had nothing left.
“You got my brothers killed. Do you know what happens to those dropped in a viper’s den?”
“Ray man please.”
“They get bit!”
You watched as Ray released bullet after bullet into Donnie. He didn’t stop until the bullets stopped and the gun clicked over and over and over, and Donnie lay dead on the ground. He dropped his head back and stared into the night sky.
“It’s done. Rest up brothers,” Ray said into the night.
You looked up and saw Razu standing across the way. his eyes wide and jaw clenched tight. You smiled then wrapped yourself around Ray who wrapped his arm possessively around you.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“I mean it Aria. You’ve done so much. Thank you.”
You touched his cheek and then kissed him. “I told you. I got you. ‘Till the end Imma ride wit’ you.”
Ray pressed his lips to your forehead then the two of you turned to go back inside.
“Aria! I challenge you and that white abomination!”
You smirked and took the gun Uki handed to you, ever prepared for the shit that could rise. You turned, took aim, and shot quicker than he could realize what had happened. Your shot rang true sending the bullet dead center in Razu’s head.
“Spies and traitors don’t have the right to challenge. Uki will show you all the man Razu was.
She pressed a button on her wrist and the screens around played Razu’s dirty dealings within the den. Everyone whispered words of admonishment as they spat at and on Razu’s dead body.
“Let it be known that as of today I am his, and he is mine. If anyone objects speak now.”
Not a soul spoke and from the corner of your eye, you saw your father standing high above it all watching the events unfold. You held his gaze for a few moments and caught the smile on his lips. He nodded then pressed a kiss to his fingertips and sent it your way. His approval. It was 12 years later but better late than never.
Once you’d returned to your bedroom and ravaged each other thoroughly, you both laid there staring at each other both afraid to sleep for fear it was all a dream. Ray reached out and caressed your cheek.
“I promise to be loyal to you, to love you, and always come back for you.”
You smiled. “I promise to be loyal to you, love you and always come back for you.”
He rolled onto you and captured your lips.
“This is forever, Aria.”
“Forever.”
~End~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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sadhours · 9 months
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simmer down - chapter two
billy hargrove x hagan!oc
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warning: 18+ minors dni, smut, tiddie fucking, p in v, oc x steve, slow burn
summary: Gina has it easy being Tommy’s little sister. A spot with the cool crowd. Invites to all the parties. Everything she could ever want. But it seems to be more a burden when the new guy from California shows up and becomes best friends with her brother. At least she has Steve, or does she?
word count: 10k
Gina wore the outfit Carol picked out. She paired it with the fancy cropped leather jacket her parents had bought her for Christmas. She’d painstakingly curled her chestnut hair with her butane powered curling iron. She had to wake a whole hour earlier to do so. It was a lot of work to go through for a boy, but Gina was determined to catch Billy’s attention. She even wore foundation makeup, which hid the majority of her freckles and she spent too long doing her winged eyeliner. She had to skip breakfast but she hoped it was a worthy sacrifice.
When she gets downstairs, she’s glad she catches her parents before they leave. She bounces on her tip toes and makes big doe eyes at her mother, “Can you schedule me an appointment at the salon? I need my hair permed again.”
Her mother smiles, “Of course, sweetie. You look pretty.”
“Thanks,” Gina beams.
Tommy snorts, shoveling a spoonful of his cereal into his mouth. “She’s trying to impress my new friend,” he says around the Wheaties.
“Shut up!” Gina groans and her mother gives her a knowing look.
“That kid with the Camaro?” their dad asks, “He seems like a good kid. Very respectful.”
“You two should ask him over for dinner. I’d like to get to know him,” their mom says, double checking her briefcase.
“He’s joining the basketball team,” Tommy adds, standing from the table to dispose of his bowl in the sink.
“What’s his name again?” their dad asks.
“Billy Hargrove,” Gina says with a dreamy smile and Tommy smacks the back of her head.
“Thomas Michael Hagan! Do not hit your sister,” their mother scolds.
Tommy mocks her, swinging his backpack over his shoulder as their little sister wanders into the kitchen. Gina double checks the small girls braids. She’d done them last night before bed and wants to make sure they’re not too messy from sleep.
“Invite that nice young man over for dinner,” their mom repeats, “I’ll make shepherds pie.”
“Yeah, I will, mom,” Tommy says exasperatedly and he ushers Gina out the door, tugging her by her backpack.
She climbs into the front seat and Tommy does the same in the drivers side, he turns the key in the ignition but before he shifts any gears, he turns to his sister and she meets his intense gaze. It’s a look he hasn’t given her before and if she’s honest, it scares her a bit.
“I told you he’s off-limits,” he tells her sternly.
Gina swallows the lump in her throat, “I’m… I know. I wasn’t wearing this to impress him.”
Her voice is shaky and she hopes Tommy can’t pick up on the obvious lie. She wonders if Carol talked to him last night. While she did consider Carol to be her best friend, she wouldn’t put it past her to tell Tommy their plan.
“Don’t fuck this up. I want to be his friend,” he continues, “I don’t have a guy friend to do cool stuff with anymore. Since the shit with Steve, I just hang out with you and Carol and no offense, you guys aren’t that fun.”
“You don’t think your girlfriend is fun?” Gina scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest.
Tommy groans, shoving the gear shift in reverse before looking behind him as he pulls out of the driveway. “I didn’t mean it like that. Don’t go telling her I said that,” he retorts. “I just mean, I get bored doing whatever the hell you two wanna do.”
Gina sighs, shaking her head, “I get it. I don’t like Billy, okay?”
“It’s not a matter of if you like him, just don’t try to sleep with him,” Tommy replies, turning on the stereo to cut their conversation short.
Gina doesn’t mind, though. Sometimes her and Tommy got along so well and then other times, she couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him. When they pick Carol up and Gina moves to the backseat, it’s like the conversation never even happened at all. Carol’s ranting about her parents the whole drive to school, not even sensing the tension between the Hagan siblings. As they pull into the parking lot, Gina sees Billy leaned against the side of his Camaro, talking to Tina. It makes her heart sink a bit but she remembers quickly that Tina doesn’t listen to the same music as him. Maybe it’s silly but she thinks it gives her an upper hand.
Gina doesn’t head over to Billy and Tina right away. Due to the conversation with her brother, she hangs back and pretends to be looking for something in her backpack. While she’s doing so, Steve pulls up and parks beside Tommy’s car. He’s alone and he looks forlorn, turning his car off and sinking into the seat. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back. She’s tempted to open the passenger door and sink in beside him, try her best to comfort him. However, she’s sure he’d tell her to get lost. Her eyes follow the curve of his nose down to his lips and she gets lost in memories of how it felt to kiss them. Then Steve lifts his head and opens his eyes, meeting her gaze.
Steve lifts his hand and waves, a small smile spreading across his lips. Gina’s sure she’s blushing as she waves back and pulls her backpack over her shoulders before turning to walk towards her group of friends. Tina’s excitedly talking to Carol and Tommy’s showing Billy a sports magazine. Gina’s fingers play with the strap of her backpack as she takes her place next to Carol, replaying the small moment she’d just had with Steve over and over in her head. She thinks it means something. An acknowledgment from him was all she’d been wanting for months now.
“What are you smiling about?” Billy asks as he kicks against her shoe, their eyes meeting.
“Nothing,” Gina replies, her smile not faltering.
Her stomach is full of butterflies, turning her head to watch as Steve walks towards the building. She suddenly can’t wait for study hall, the whole plot of impressing Billy with her outfit has fallen by the wayside. Steve’s name dangles on the tip of her tongue, those feelings of infatuation flooding back from such a minuscule interaction.
“Ya want a cigarette?” Billy offers and when she turns to look at him again she doesn’t miss the way his eyes travel down her body and back up.
“Sure,” she shrugs, taking the Marlboro perched between his fingers.
Billy leans forward to light it for her and Gina can feel everyone’s eyes on them. Especially the narrow ones of her brother and Tina. She sinks her shoulders a bit, turning away from Billy and instead involves herself in the conversation the girls are having. Carols worried about some test and Tina’s relating. Gina is suddenly reminded that next year she won’t have the security of her friend group. They’re all seniors. Come this June, they’ll be free of Hawkins High and onto whatever awaits them next. Tommy and Carol have plans to attend school out of state. Gina’s not too excited to assimilate into another group. She’s scared of being lonely.
——
Steve smiles up at Gina when she walks into study hall and takes her seat. Unintentionally, her effort in getting ready this morning has clearly caught his attention. She smiles back at him before opening up her backpack and pulling out her binder, shuffling through the pages to get started on her math homework. Steve’s eyes are burning holes into the side of her face. She’s happy about it but she still feels shy so she untucks her hair from behind her ear and lets it fall against her cheek. She wonders what this means. Perhaps Steve and Nancy are broken up now.
A note is tossed on her desk, coming from Steve’s direction. When she turns to look at him, he stretches his arms up and fakes a yawn, not looking nearly as inconspicuous as he’s trying to. Gina’s cheeks hurt from the smile spreading across her lips and she’s pretty sure she hasn’t stopped blushing since she walked in the classroom. Her fingers unfold the paper to see Steve’s messy handwriting scrawling out the simple message next to a smiley face:
Hi
Gina chews on the end of her pencil as she reads it, glancing up to see Steve tapping his fingers against the top of his desk. This is more than an acknowledgment, it’s a conversation. Tingles run up her legs, her heart beating a little faster as she reads it over again. Her pencil meets the paper, jotting down her reply.
Hey
She carefully folds it back up, darting her eyes to their teacher. He’s focused on whatever he’s working on at his desk. Since the coast is clear, she slides the note back to Steve before trying to get back to her homework but the numbers don’t hold her attention for long as she eagerly awaits his reply. Out of her peripheral, she sees Steve writing on the note before folding it back up and passing it to her.
How have you been? Missed you.
Gina’s heart about jumps out of her throat, her stomach flipping as she focuses on the last two words of his reply. Possibilities of the implications race through her mind. Did Steve miss her in the way she missed him? Was this friendly or romantic? She’s got to play it safe and assume it’s friendly so as to not embarrass herself. Gina writes back:
Bored. Missed you too.
Steve’s fingers brush hers as she passes him the paper back, their eyes meeting and Gina recognizes the glint in his brown ones. Steve is flirting. It’s very safe to assume Nancy is no longer his girlfriend, at least Gina thinks so. Unless her attempt to get Billy’s attention inadvertently caught Steve’s. Which was odd, Gina didn’t show up looking like a completely different person. Steve had seen her dolled up plenty of times before. Maybe Nancy and Jonathon really had something going on.
Steve tosses the note back, lounges back in his desk a bit and glances up at the clock.
Me too. We should get together soon. Do something fun.
Suppressing the excited giggles rising up her throat proves to be a difficult task as a few of them escape. Gina blushes an even deeper shade of red, quickly covering the note with her homework as their teacher snaps his head up to look at her. She quickly purses her lips and pretends to be mulling over her math problems, scribbling circles on the margins of the page.
“I don’t need to remind you all that study hall isn’t a free period,” the teacher announces, “Keep quiet and do your work.”
Gina couldn’t do her work even if she really, really wanted to. Steve’s at the forefront of her mind now. She imagines all the things they could do for fun, each scenario leads to a familiar excitement between her legs and she actually has to cross them for a bit of relief. After a few minutes have passed, Gina uncovers the note and writes in her best cursive:
Sure, I’d like that.
She meticulously folds it back up and slides it back on Steve’s desk. He quickly scrawls out his reply and hands it back over. Gina unfolds it slowly, checking to make sure the teacher hasn’t turned his attention back to her.
I’ll let you know when, babe.
Gina bites her lip to make sure no more excited sounds bubble out of her. After she’s folded the note back up, she tosses it into her backpack and spends the next excruciating twenty minutes daydreaming about the brunette boy next to her while failing at solving the rest of the problems on her worksheet. The bell rings finally, alerting the class that it’s lunch time and Gina starts putting her things away. Steve stands before her, puts his palm on her desk and smiles down at her. He looks so handsome in his jeans and pressed polo, the collar sticking up over his Member’s Only jacket.
“I’ll see you around, Gina,” he purrs and it takes everything in the freckled girl to not melt into a puddle on the seat.
Her voice is a dreamy whisper when she replies, “See you, Steve.”
His fingertips tap against her desk before he turns and walks out of the classroom, leaving her a little breathless and unbelievably elated. Steve Harrington wants to hang out with her again. It’s almost like she’s dreaming, she considers pinching herself to confirm she’s not. Gina’s practically dancing through the halls as she makes her way to her locker. She wonders if Steve will take her on a proper date this time. Every time they hung out before were under different implications, either Tommy was around or they were having sex. She hopes this time will be different.
By the time she makes it to the parking lot, everyone’s already gathered around Billy. Tina is curled into his side but Gina is quite literally so ecstatic that she can’t find it in herself to care. She’s getting Steve back, she’s so sure of it that the crush on Billy has slipped to the back of her mind. All she can think of is how soft Steve’s hair is, all the moles that scatter across his body and the way it felt when he kissed her. Steve, Steve, Steve. She’s basically chanting his name in her head. And the worst part is she couldn’t speak his name into existence around her friends. At least, not unless it was attached to an insult.
“Hey, Gina,” Billy greets in his low drawl, smirking lopsided. Just this morning that would’ve had her knees shaking but now, it reads as friendly.
“Hi, guys,” she chirps, “What’s up?”
“Billy joined the basketball team,” Tommy announces, beaming so bright it’s a little uncomfortable. Gina wonders why he’s so excited. Then she’s reminded about Carol’s comment about Tommy wanting Billy all to himself and Gina can’t bring herself to look at her brother.
“Very rad,” she muses, craning her head to look for the stupid boy she can’t get out of her head. She’s curious as to what Steve’s doing for lunch if he isn’t dating Nancy anymore. He never had trouble making friends but she doesn’t see him hang out with anyone besides Nancy these days. Aside from the group of middle schoolers he babysits.
They used to all sit in the cafeteria until Billy came around. The blonde doesn’t each lunch, ever. All he does is chain smoke during the hour. In fact, Gina realizes she’s never seen Billy eat but she knows he has to eat quite a bit for him to have muscles like he does. The new routine isn’t one she likes to much, she’s always starving when she gets home from school. Tommy is too. They started raiding the fridge and pantry as soon as they get through the door. However, Gina is pocketing the lunch money their parents give her and that’s been a nice bonus.
“Can’t wait to see him on the court,” Tommy continues, “He’s gonna devour Harrington.”
And there it is. Gina shouldn’t be shocked, Tommy can’t go an hour without shit talking his former best friend.
“Speaking of that,” Carol butts in, “Who’s all betting on him and Wheeler being over?”
“I have five on it,” Tommy snorts.
Tina giggles, “I’ll bet ten that they’ll get back together before the week is over.”
God, Gina hopes that isn’t the case. She also has some insight they don’t. Steve’s note is burning a hole in her backpack. She desperately wants to show it to someone, but it wouldn’t be received well. In fact, it’s guaranteed that Gina would be the only one to feel positive about it. And as much as she loves these assholes, that’s what they are— assholes. No doubt they’ll twist it and make Gina second guess Steve’s advances.
“Who fucking cares?” Billy seethes around his Marlboro, “Harrington’s love life is a bore. This place must fucking suck for each and every one of you to have such a vested interest in it.”
That’s one thing Gina’s noticed and liked about Billy; his disdain for gossip. Which is funny because that’s all her friends do. She’s guilty of it herself because well, the Californian is spot on. Hawkins is so dull that there’s not much else to talk about besides the people in it. The group kind of mumbles in agreement though it’s all a show for the new guy.
“And you know what I’ve noticed? Gina’s the only person who doesn’t talk about the guy,” he continues and all eyes fall on her.
Gina’s red cheeks are back, though in utter embarrassment. Thank god Billy can’t read minds because then he’d know that Steve is all she thinks about.
Tommy cackles, “That’s because she’s had a crush on him since she was like ten.”
“Shut up,” Gina fumes, smacking her brothers arm, “I do not.”
Billy’s eyebrows are raised as he looks at the small girl amused, “No shit?”
“I don’t not have a crush on Steve,” she defends herself and it’s true. It’s not a crush, she’s full blown in love with him.
“Tommy, you’re such an asshole,” Carol scolds, hooking her arm with Gina as she guides her away from the group but making sure to shove her shoulder against her boyfriends on the way.
Once they’re out of earshot, Carol continues, “Sometimes I have no idea why I love your brother. He’s the fucking worst.”
Gina swallows back the tears and hates herself for how easily it is to make her cry. She lets Carol drag her back to the cafeteria, they grab a small lunch each and Gina is eternally grateful she has Carol. They sit down at a table and Gina heaves a huge sigh.
“I hate him so much,” she complains, cracking open her Coke before shoving a straw into it. “That was so embarrassing.”
“I’m sorry,” Carol frowns, opening her pudding and shoveling a mouthful. “Tina’s really digging her claws into Billy anyways. Let them run their course and then make your move.”
Maybe the crush on Billy isn’t entirely dissolved, she was mortified with him finding out about her infatuation with Steve. Gina shakes her head, “I don’t want Billy.”
Carol rolls her eyes, “Oh, shut up. We all want him.”
Gina opens her bag of chips carefully and raises both her eyebrows at Carol, “Why don’t you dump Tommy and go for him then?”
The older girl heaves a sigh, resting her head on her hand as she looks at Gina, “Unfortunately, I love him.”
“Do you think you’ll marry Tommy?” she asks before munching on a handful of the Lay’s.
Carol giggles then, her face reddening at the thought and Gina’s happy for them. They really do love each other. It’s pretty gross.
“Hi,” the familiar voice catches Gina off guard, her and Carol look up to see Steve standing at the edge of the table, holding tightly onto his lunch tray.
A deep blush rises up Gina’s neck to her cheeks, staring up at big, dark eyes and a hesitant smile. Steve’s alone. It must feel awful given he’s walked up to Gina and well, Carol of all people. But he doesn’t glance to the redhead, keeps his eyes firm on Gina’s light brown ones. Of course, the older girl is shooting him daggers.
“What do you want, Harrington?” she seethes, mouth turned in disgust.
“Do you wanna join us?” Gina asks, voice sweet to offset Carol’s harsh tone.
“If that’s okay,” Steve replies, a little shy and still acting as if Carol isn’t there.
Gina nods, scooting further down the bench to accommodate the lanky brunette. Steve sits next to her, their thighs touching. The freckled girl sips her coke while she look’s curiously towards Carol. She seems amused and a little confused. She kicks Gina under the table and then stands.
“I’m gonna go find Tommy. See you after school?”
Gina nods, smiling wide, “Okay, sounds good.”
Once Carol stalks off, Steve heaves a sigh, “Well Carol still hates me.”
Gina giggles and offers, “I don’t.”
It almost looks like Steve is blushing, his cheeks swollen with the smile spread across his lips and he shakes his head. “For which I’m very grateful. I was kind of… a dickhead.”
Gina doesn’t want Steve to know how heartbroken she actually was from his departure. Always trying to be the cool girl, the one with no feelings and just a desire to have a good time. Something bred within her and Tommy, the biggest need to fit in and be liked. Their parents instilled in them how important it was to not stand out, do good in school, not catch too much attention.
“Yeah,” Gina breathes out, “I get it, though. I’m not mad at you.”
Steve smiles at her, offering the other cookie from his lunch while he bites down on one. Gina takes it with a grin, biting into the sweetness and holding her hand out to catch the crumbs falling from it. Steve looks at her with this intense, contended gaze. It makes her skin crawl in the best way, she likes his eyes on her. Gina likes attention, it’s a fault at most times. That’s why she has such a hard time saying no, always eager to please.
“How’s gymnastics?” Steve asks, suddenly.
Gina flushes, remembering how Steve used to go to all her meets and cheer her on. She always tried a little harder when he was there.
“Oh, I quit,” she says after swallowing the cookie, tucking her curly hair behind her ear.
“You did?” Steve’s eyes widen, in disbelief. Gina had been doing gymnastics since she was six years old. The Harrington’s paid for it until her parents could afford to. Barbara used to take her to the meets, Steve and Tommy in tow when her parents were too busy working. Gina was unbelievably competitive, she would cry if she came in second place. Gymnastics was her life for the longest time. She worked really hard to excel at it. When she wanted to quit, her parents were pissed.
She nods, reaching for her soda again, “I joined the cheerleading team. So I’ll be cheering you on during games.”
“You’ll be the best cheerleader with all that training,” Steve replies, stars in his eyes and it takes everything in Gina to not touch him. Her fingers tense, pressed firmly on her thigh.
“I’m a flyer,” she brags, “I’m not as tiny as Chrissy, but I can land just as good.”
“Probably better,” Steve compliments, “I remember going to all your meets. You always got first.”
“And when I didn’t, I’d throw a fit,” Gina reminisces, giggling in embarrassment.
Steve nods, chuckling with it, “You worked really hard.”
“So, maybe tomorrow we can hang out after school?” Gina offers, biting her lip.
“Yeah, my parents are in New York. For the month,” he explains, looking just a bit forlorn.
Steve used to brag about how he was always home alone, but Gina always figured he got lonely and that’s why he used to invite her, Tommy and Carol over everyday. She knew how reserved Nancy was, could only imagine that Steve spent more time alone than with her. For a good few months, Gina was over at the Harrington’s every day. She’d made out with Steve on practically every piece of furniture in his house and thinking about it now, she has to squeeze her thighs together. She recalls one time they’d made love on the piano displayed in the living room. It was a bit awkward, but nevertheless got her aroused to think of. She wonders if Nancy would let Steve take her anywhere or if she only let him have sex in bed. Gina wonders if her and Nancy are similar at all. She doubts it.
“Okay. I’ll come over after school,” Gina smiles, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Cool,” Steve nods, stealing a chip from Gina. She wants to ask Steve about Nancy but she doesn’t.
-
“Is that boy coming over?” Gina’s mom asks after Tommy and Gina walk through the door.
“Yeah,” Tommy says, “He’s gotta watch his sister until his parents get home, then he’ll be over.”
Gina completely missed that conversation and within the excitement of Steve finally acknowledging her again, she forgot Billy was supposed to come over for dinner.
“I’m gonna do my homework,” she mumbles, rushing to her room and shutting the door behind her. She drops her backpack on her bed and fishes through it for the note from Steve. Gina’s fingertips smooth over it, the butterflies in her stomach swirling around fast. It’s a little pathetic on her part, how easily she’s back wrapped around his finger. She throws herself on her bed and lets out a fit of giggles, holding the note close to her chest. She reads their conversation over and over as she begins imagine what they’ll do tomorrow. The mention of his parents being out of town gives you a slight indication, but she wonders if Steve will be different, now. Maybe Nancy sparked something in him and now he’s romantic. Gina hopes he asks her to be his girlfriend and she knows how foolish that is, because him and Nancy just broke up. But maybe Steve missed her. Maybe he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
After an hour or so of daydreaming, she lifts herself from the bed and files through her records. She pulls out Fire of Unknown Origin by Blue Öyster Cult and puts it on the record player, dropping the needle down and turning the volume up. She opens her closet up, delicately picking out her outfit tomorrow and lying it out on the chair in the corner of her room. She picks a turquoise shirt with white stripes and a white tennis skirt while imagining how she’ll style her hair and makeup. However, a particular blonde crosses her mind and she turns her eyes back to her closet. Just because she’s got the promise of Steve doesn’t mean she can’t look cute for Billy. She can’t help but wanting to catch his attention.
Settling on a pair of comfy, cheer shorts and leaving her Metallica shirt on, Gina sits at her vanity and begins touching up her makeup. It wasn’t too bad, but it did need to be freshened up. After, she reaches for a scrunchie and ties her hair up in a messy ponytail, making sure to pull a few pieces out to frame her face. The goal is to look effortless while actually putting the effort it. Gina grabs her bottle of cherry almond scented lotion and rubs it into her legs and arms. She glances at her alarm clock. It’s almost five thirty. Billy should be over soon. She grabs a copy of Cosmo and travels to read it in the living room.
An article about how to get your man’s attention is particularly enthralling. Gina takes notes mentally. Be mysterious, make lots of eye contact and laugh at their jokes. She hums, thinking about how Steve often makes her laugh. He’s very funny.
When she’s about halfway through the magazine, the doorbell rings. She remains calm, doesn’t jolt up from the couch to answer it like she desperately wants to. Besides, she can hear her mom answer the door and greet Billy.
“Billy, right?”
“That’s right. Nice to see you, Mrs. Hagan.”
“Please, call me Kathryn. Come on in.”
“Thank you, Kathryn.”
Billy walks into the living room, peeks over the couch at Gina and drawls out, “Cosmo, huh? Anything juicy?”
“Hi, Billy,” she says without looking up. Mysterious.
“Tommy’s in his bedroom,” her mom tells him before trailing back in the kitchen. “Dinner will be done soon.”
Billy reaches forward and grabs onto Gina’s ankle, jostling her playfully and then winks as he descends down the hall. Her breath catches her throat, flipping into her back as she stares up at the ceiling. Tries to ignore the tingling feeling where his fingers just were, closes her eyes and pictures Steve’s face. It works okay until she hears her brother’s obnoxious laugh, muffled by walls but loud enough to hear in the living room. She opens her eyes again and sighs, sitting up and wandering into the kitchen.
“Do you need help?” she asks her mom.
“Sure, sweetie,” Kathryn smiles warmly, “You can go ahead and set the table.
Gina nods, walking over to the cabinet and carefully grabs six plates. She carries them to the table and places them in their designated spots, realizing the usually empty seat is right across from her. She’ll be staring at Billy for the duration of their meal. Awesome. She tears off six squares of paper towels and lays them out. Next, Gina collects the silverware and places a fork next to each plate. She retrieves two wine glasses, sets them in front of her parents plates before grabbing three glasses and then Bridgette’s special plastic cup with cartoon characters decorating it. She fills Bridgette’s cup with milk and then fills the other glasses with juice.
Just then her dad walks into the kitchen, kissing her cheek and then her mothers.
“How was school today, sweetheart?” he asks.
“It was good. I’m going to stay late tomorrow to work on a project for science class,” she explains, chewing on her lower lip while she hopes it doesn’t sound like she’s lying.
“Alight, honey,” her dad smiles and turns to his wife, “Smells good. Almost ready?”
“All done,” Kathryn nods, “Gina, go grab your brother and his friend.”
Gina waits until she turns away to scrunch her face up, unsure why she’s suddenly so nervous. Once she gets close to Tommy’s bedroom, she hikes her shorts up just a smidge. Her knuckles wrap against the door, her stomach fills with butterflies as she opens it up and peeks in to see Billy and Tommy lying very still on their backs on his bed.
“What are you guys doing?” she asks, tilting her head.
Billy has his hands on his chest and Tommy’s are in fists by his sides. It looks weird. Even weirder when Tommy sits up and Gina sees his cheeks are flushed, hiding his freckles.
“Nothing,” Tommy says, “What do you want?”
Gina glances at Billy, as he remains on his back. She almost wishes she hadn’t knocked and just barged in to see what they were doing.
“Dinner’s done,” she narrows her eyes at Tommy. She’ll be sure to ask him once Billy leaves.
“Okay,” Tommy says, “We’ll be right out.”
Gina opens the door wider and leans against the frame, “You guys look suspicious. What are you hiding?”
Tommy reaches for a pillow and chucks it at her, “Get out. We’ll be out soon.”
“If you guys have grass and you’re holding out, I’m gonna be pissed,” she whispers, picking the pillow up and throws it back at him before retreating back. She heads to her sisters room, smiling at the small girl as she rearranges her stuffed animals on her bed.
“Bridgette, it’s time to eat,” Gina smiles and the little brunette hops up to her feet.
She slaps Gina’s leg as she runs passed her, “Tag, you’re it!”
Gina goes to chase her but Billy’s exiting Tommy’s room and she almost collides into him. He grabs her wrist and hip to catch her, chuckling softly as their eyes meet.
“Careful,” he says lowly, “Ya almost took me out.”
“Yeah, well…” Gina taps his chest and runs passed him, calling back, “Tag! Billy’s it!”
Billy walks into the dining room casually, eyebrows raised as he watches Gina round the table and hide behind her younger sister, the both of them giggling. He pouts at them, “No fair. I didn’t even know we were playing tag.”
“That’s what makes it fun,” Gina grins, using Bridgette as a human shield.
“What’s fun?” Tommy asks when he finally makes an appearance.
Billy pats his shoulder, “Tag— and you’re it.”
Tommy just rolls his eyes before sitting in his seat, reaching for his glass of juice and taking a big gulp. Gina notices his cheeks aren’t as flushed but his lips look swollen. Her stomach turns suddenly, wondering if her suspicion are true. Maybe Carol was right all along. She quickly pushes the thoughts aside, feeling sick at the thought of her brother kissing Billy.
“Tommy doesn’t play tag,” Bridgette complains as she sits in her chair, pushing her hair out of her face. Gina walks behind her, pulling her hair up and ties with the the hair-tie from her wrist. Then she sits in her seat, watching as Billy sits across from her.
“Thanks for dinner, Kathryn,” Billy smiles, “I appreciate it. Bless my step moms heart but she’s not the best cook.”
“Oh, well you’re welcome to join us whenever you’d like,” Kathryn smiles at the blonde.
“My mommy’s the best at cooking,” Bridgette beams, “She makes me peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for school.”
“I bet,” Billy smiles, picking up his fork. “Do you guys say grace or?”
Their dad laughs, “Nope. We’re a godless house. Go ahead and dig in.”
“If you say grace, we can,” Kathryn says, always wanting her guests to feel at home.
“Oh, we do at my house but that’s my dad’s thing,” Billy explains, his cheeks a little pink suddenly. “I just didn’t want to be rude.”
The Hagan patriarchy chuckles again, “Rude? You’ve met my kids. Hard to surprise me anymore.”
“I’m not rude!” Bridgette whines.
“So, Gina,” Kathryn changes the subject, “Who are you working on this science project with?”
Gina swallows the lump in her throat. She was hoping they wouldn’t bring it up in front of her brother and Billy. Even though she was gonna repeat the same lie to them tomorrow. She shrugs, waving her hand, “Some kids from my class. We’re just gonna work in the library.”
“You’re gonna walk home then,” Tommy mumbles with his mouth full. His mom shoots him daggers across the table.
“The car came with the responsibility of driving your sister around, Tommy. You’ll pick her up,” their dad says, reaching for his glass of wine.
“I’ll get a ride from someone, it’s fine,” Gina insists, “I don’t know when we’ll be done anyways.”
“You know your curfew,” Kathryn says.
Gina nods, finally lifting her eyes to Billy and noticing he’s staring right at her. Her skin feels warm as she wills herself not to blush. His eyes are so intense but she likes them on her.
“Oh and I have cheer practice this week, but it’s the same time as basketball practice,” Gina adds, still looking up at Billy.
“I heard you joined the team, Billy. You play before?” their dad asks.
Billy turns to look at him, “Yeah. Back home, I played basketball and baseball.”
“We actually have a chance this year,” Tommy adds, beaming from ear to ear.
“You competitive, Billy?”
“Yeah, I don’t like to lose,” Billy says with a laugh.
“Gina’s like that. She was a gymnast for ten years,��� Kathryn smiles at her daughter, “Placed at least second every meet, if she didn’t win.”
“Yeah,” Tommy snorts, “And she’d throw the biggest tantrum is she didn’t get first. Water works, stomping around, the whole nine yards.”
Gina rolls her eyes, “I did not.” She did.
“You were a gymnast?” Billy asks, an amused look on his face. “Why’d you stop?”
“I wanted to join cheer. The schedules conflicted,” she shrugs, “If I don’t like it, I’ll join gymnastics again.”
“Win any trophies?” he asks, and it feels like they’re the only two people at the table. Her heart flutters as she pushes her food around her plate with her fork.
“A couple,” she shrugs again.
“She has a whole bunch in her room!” Bridgette exclaims, bouncing in her seat.
Billy laughs, turning his attention to the younger girl, “Do you play any sports?”
“I’m in tumbling,” she says proudly, “That’s how Gina started. I’m gonna get a bunch of trophies like her.”
“Very cool,” Billy smiles at her.
“Do you have any trophies?” Bridgette asks.
“Mhm,” Billy hums as he chews his food, swallowing before answering her, “I have a couple for surfing.”
“Surfing?!” Bridgette squeals, eyes wide, “Like in the ocean?!”
“Yep,” Billy tells her, “I used to live right by the ocean.”
“I didn’t know you surfed,” Gina says, surprised.
Billy nods, “Can’t do it here. But yeah, I used to go out every morning at like four to surf before school and then during summers, couldn’t keep me away from the ocean. I started when I was eight years old.”
“The ocean scares me,” Kathryn admits, “So vast. So unexplored.”
Billy frowns, “Huh. Yeah, plus sharks and stuff. But in my experience sharks are pretty laid back.”
“You’ve seen a shark?” Bridgette gapes at the older boy.
Billy grins wide, “Yeah. I used to pet them.”
“And they don’t bite you?” she looks at him alarmed, almost like she can’t believe him.
“Nope. Well, not the ones I pet. But some of them bite,” he tells her. “I saw a lot of Leopard sharks. They’re harmless. But we had Great White sharks out there and those ones are mean. I didn’t see them often, though.”
“How do you not run away when you see them?” Bridgette wonders, her eyebrows knit together.
Billy tilts his head, “If you act calm, they don’t bother you. If I tried to get away really fast, they might come after me.”
“I’m not going to touch a shark,” she says, “I don’t want to get bit. Have you been stung by a jelly fish?”
Billy smiles at her. He’s got this sweet look on his face that makes Gina a little smitten, seeing this bad boy facade kind of fall while he talks to her baby sister is the cutest thing. She thinks Billy would be a good dad and then goes down this short spiral of daydreaming about having a baby with him. Clearly Tommy can read her face because her kicks her under the table.
“I have, actually. My friend had to pee on me,” Billy tells her while scrunching up his face.
“Ew! Why?”
“I don’t know. We heard you had to do that,” Billy says, “But I think it just made it worse.”
Bridgette giggles, “And it’s gross.”
“It was gross,” he agrees.
“I’ve never been to the ocean,” Gina admits.
Her mother sighs, “One day, you will. We’re due for a vacation soon. I’m thinking Disney world.”
Bridgette gets excited, starts begging her parents to go. Their dad sighs, “See what you’ve done, Kathryn.”
Gina’s cleaning up after dinner. Her parents are enjoying glasses of wine on the back patio and Bridgette is watching a movie in the living room. Billy wanders into the kitchen, leans against the counter.
“Need help?”
Gina smiles at him, “I’m just about done. I always have dish duty.”
“Me too, usually,” Billy admits, “Kind of weird not to.”
“Enjoy it while you can,” Gina tells him as she scrubs the last pan with the sudsy sponge.
“So, you’re pretty flexible, then?”
“Excuse me?” Gina turns to him as her face erupts in red.
“Well, being a gymnast and all… you’ve got to be flexible to do that,” Billy explains, smirking at the younger girl.
Gina gapes at him, his tone and eyes seem to indicate that he’s flirting yet she can’t bring herself to believe it to be true. So she doesn’t really know how to respond to him. If Tommy hadn’t told her to back off and if Billy wasn’t so goddamn handsome, she’d flirt back easily. But she just… can’t.
“Uh, yeah, I guess so. I was kind of gunning for the Olympics but well, I don’t know if I’m that good,” she explains a little sheepishly.
Billy bites his lip, nods at her slowly before he tells her, “You’ll have to show me sometime.”
Gina smiles awkwardly at him, “I think I’ll be doing some stuff for cheer. I’m a flyer, so they’re gonna be throwing me up in the air to do flips.”
“Guess I’ll see it then,” he muses, “Can I see your trophies?”
Her stomach flips, thinking about Billy being in her room.
“Uh, sure…” she sets down the last pan to dry and nods towards her room, “They’re just on a bookshelf in my room.”
She trails down the hallway until she gets to her bedroom, slowly opening the door and scanning her eyes across the room like it’s the first time she’s seeing it. Wonders what Billy will think of it. Her carpet is a dusty rose pink and her wallpaper is floral stripes, daisies and roses. She’s got a full size bed pushed up against the wall on the right side, a white frame with pink and white floral bedding. Her nightstand is white as well, has a pretty pink and blue dolphin lamp on it next to her alarm clock and the latest romance novel she’s picked up. Next to her nightstand is her matching vanity, where all her hair products, makeup and perfumes are displayed delicately. Her walls are decorated with posters, mostly bands she likes but a couple of framed prints her mother picked out as well. Across from her bed is her dresser, her record player on top of it and next to that is her bookshelf. The first two top shelves meticulously display her trophies, the middle one stores her books and the bottom two keep her records and cassettes.
“Interesting,” Billy says, sounding amused.
“What?” Gina asks, suddenly really nervous.
Billy shrugs, “It’s very pink. I thought it would be different.”
He’s thought about her room. Gina tries not to bounce on her feet in excitement.
“What did you think it’d be like?”
“Well, you listen to metal… so more… that,” he chuckles and Gina laughs with him.
“Oh… well, here’s my trophies,” she gestures to the bookshelf.
“I thought they said you threw fits if you got second,” Billy mumbles, fingertips grazing the pieces of plastic, “All of these are first place.”
“Well, I’m not gonna display that I lost,” she explains, her cheeks hearing up, “Those are in the garage.”
“Ha,” he scoffs as he squats down to look at her records, “but you’ll display this?” He pulls out an album, flipping it to show Gina. The Go-Go’s.
“I like that album,” she frowns, bending down next to him as he slides it back in.
“Don’t tell anyone,” Billy whispers, looking up at her with a glint in his eyes, “but I like it too.”
“You really do have good taste then,” she giggles.
Just then, her door swings open and Tommy bursts through.
“What’re you doing?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed.
“Billy wanted to see my trophies,” Gina explains, standing up as Billy does.
“Well, I better get back home,” he checks his watch, “Curfew.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Tommy insists.
“I’ll see you later,” Billy says on his way out, before Tommy follows him, he turns to Gina with narrowed eyes.
Steve’s house is quiet as the two of them walk in the door. He leads her up the stairs and to his very familiar bedroom. She drops her backpack on the floor and looks up at him, expectantly. Steve smiles, walks towards his bed and sits on it.
“Make yourself at home,” he says.
Gina smiles awkwardly back at him, walking towards the bed and sitting beside him. It’s kind of strange being so close to Steve again. Gina feels eager, has to keep her fingers busy fussing with her skirt so she doesn’t push him back down on the bed and straddle him.
“So,” Steve says, but doesn’t continue. Instead he just looks from Gina’s eyes to her lips.
“So,” she parrots.
Steve cracks a grin, moves his fingers forward and tucks Gina’s hair behind her ear. The shell of her ear tingles from the touch and she drops her eyes down to his lips. He bites his lower one, let’s his fingers ghost the supple skin of Gina’s cheeks.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, still smiling at her.
“Steve,” she whines, raising her hands to cover her face.
He grips her wrists as he laughs, pulling her hands down, “I mean it. I’ve really missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” she admits shyly, looking back up to meet his big brown eyes.
“You don’t hate me?”
“I could never hate you,” she promises, her heart skips a beat as he links their fingers together.
“Yeah?” Steve whispers, scooting closer to her. Gina nods at him.
Then Steve leans in, ghosting his lips over Gina’s. He seems like he’s hesitant, like he thinks she’ll push him away. So she lets go of his hands and grips onto his shirt, pulls him close so their lips finally collide. Steve’s hands shoot up to hold Gina’s face, he makes the softest little moan against her plush lips and she can’t help but squirm at it. His tongue grazes her lower lip, Gina parts her lips instantly to allow him entrance. Her thighs tingle as their tongues meet. Kissing Steve was always her favorite. She found no other boy could kiss like him. The way it made her head swim was addictive.
He lays her back on the bed, situating himself between her thighs as he deepens the kiss. It’s urgent, desperate. Gina clings on to his polo like she’s scared he’s gonna float away. His nose bumps against hers, causing them both to smile into the open mouthed kiss. He lowers his hand down and starts feeling Gina up through her bra and shirt, squeezing softly. She hooks her leg over his waist, pulling him even closer.
Usually, Gina would be content to lay here for hours just kissing Steve but it’s been so long since she’s had him and she’s pretty eager for more. She pulls his shirt over his head, breaking the kiss for just a second and then smoothing her hands over his chest. While they continue kissing, Steve kicks off his Nike’s and they land to his floor with a dull thud. Gina takes that as her cue and does the same, but hooking her leg back over him when she finishes. Steve pushes her shirt up, exposing her bra to him and he lowers his head to place delicate kisses over the curve of her breast. Gina gasps out, hooking her fingers in his soft hair. Steve sucks a pretty sizable bruise into her cleavage before pulling her bra cup down enough to get his lips around her hardened nipple. Gina’s particularly sensitive there and her back involuntarily arches at the feeling.
“A-ah, Steve!” she moans out, eyes fluttering shut.
He swirls his tongue around it before sucking it back between his lips. She pulls on his hair, rolling her hips up against him. He grinds back, giving the tiniest bit of friction with his jeans. Gina gasps out as Steve flicks his tongue against her nipple before he’s pulling away. He pulls her shirt over her head and she sits up a bit so he can unclasp her bra and pull it down her arms. He cups her breasts in his hands, pushing them together and then jiggling them as he gazes down with hungry eyes. Gina giggles, her cheeks flushed while he plays with her tits. He used to compliment them a lot, tell her they were the biggest he’d seen.
“Can I fuck your tits?” he asks, his eyes going dark as he glances back up at her.
Gina nods frantically. She’d let Steve do anything he wanted, “Please.”
He grins, pulling away to shove his pants and briefs down his legs. He straddles her middle, hand wrapped firmly around his long cock. He strokes himself a few times, squeezing his tip and then pressing his slit to her perked nipple. The coolness of his precum smearing against her sensitive bud makes Gina squirm.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” she mumbles, watching the action with her eyebrows knit together.
“Mhm,” he grins, rubbing the head of his cock against her nipple a couple of times.
Then he spits in his hand, spreads the saliva over his cock and lays it between Gina’s breasts. She props herself up on her elbows, watching as Steve pushes her tits together. He rolls his hips slowly, the head of his cock appearing from the top of her cleavage. Gina giggles before sticking out her tongue, his tip meeting it with each thrust. Steve groans lowly, his hips snapping a bit harder each time.
“Jesus, Gina,” he whines, “You’re so hot.”
Eventually, Steve gets fed up and scoots up. He rubs the head of his cock against Gina’s lips so she sticks her tongue out again. He slaps the tip against her tongue and she wraps her lips around it, looking up at him with wide eyes.
“Such a good girl,” he coos in a dreamy voice, pushing her hair back while he slowly thrusts into her mouth.
Gina hums around him, relaxing her throat to take his length. He’s always gentle though, doesn’t shove it too far down. Steve likes her to focus on his tip, while he squeezes the base.
“Gina,” he whines, his lips bitten pink and shiny with the way he keeps licking them.
She loves the view, staring up at him with adoration. She thinks Steve might be the prettiest boy she’s seen. Gina absolutely loves his floppy hair, his big brown eyes and the slight hook of his nose. The moles too. The two on his cheek and the two on his neck.
He pulls back, gasping as he does so. Gina licks her lips, looking up at him all doe-eyed and Steve curses, squeezing his dick.
“Gina— Christ,” he pants.
“Need you,” she begs, rolling her hips up.
Steve lowers himself to the ground, forcing Gina to sit up right to watch him. He pulls her leg warmers and socks off, grazes his fingers against her calves before pulling her closer to the edge of the bed. He reaches up, pulling her underwear down her legs. She goes to pull her skirt down but his hand stops her.
“Keep it on,” he insists, bunching it up above her waist before pressing kisses to her freckled thighs.
Her breath catches in her throat, watching him closely as he spreads her legs further apart. Steve lips dip down, pressing a kiss against her soaking cunt. She hisses when he slides his tongue up her slit. Steve’s the only one who’s ate her out. And he’s still the only person who has made her cum. He’s done it with his mouth a number of times, but his dick has been the only one big enough to reach her g-spot. So she was kind of spoiled with him being her first sexual partner. Everyone after had been incredibly disappointing, the only thing she gained from them was a quick confidence boost.
“Oh, Stevie,” she hums, knotting her fingers in his hair while he licks through her folds. “Feels so good.”
She can feel him hum against her, vibrating in the best way that has her back arching at the sensation. The feeling almost has her eyes close but she needs to watch him. He looks up at her while he does it, mouth pressed flush against her pussy and the sight is absolutely delicious. She wants to tell him how pretty he is but she thinks men don’t like being called that.
He swirls his tongue around her clit, raising his eyebrows as he does so. She whimpers for him, pushing his hair off his forehead. Her shoulders tense up, mouth hanging open while soft moans tumble out. It’s like time stops with Steve’s mouth on her. All the bad blood and history falling away. It’s like he never ditched her for Nancy in the first place. It’s like Steve loves her.
“Steve,” she preens, her thighs tightening around his head as she feels her orgasm creeping up on her. “Need you. Need you now.”
He pulls back, Gina scoots up the bed and spreads her legs for him. Steve positions himself between her thighs, kissing her deeply as he does so. God. She’s still in love with him. Gina loves him.
She clings onto him tightly, gasping into his mouth as he sheathes himself inside her. She can’t believe it’s finally happening. It’s been so long, months and months of waiting. He gets his cock about half the way inside her before he stills, the two of them panting into the kiss. Steve does that a lot, stops for seconds at a time. Gina thinks it’s because he’s trying not to cum and for some reason, that’s really sweet. All the boys after Steve didn’t care about her pleasure. She felt used afterwards. And even if Steve drives her home right after this, she’ll still be madly in love with him.
“Steve,” she moans against his mouth, wrapping her legs around his waist as she pulls him the rest of the way inside.
He makes a strangled noise, moving to shove his face against her neck. It’s a stretch she’s missed dearly. A stretch her fingers or the handle of her hairbrush couldn’t replicate. Not to mention, the breath on her neck. The weight of him on top of her. She’s not sure she can go any time without this again.
Gina has to roll her hips up because Steve’s still not moving, panting into her neck and grabbing onto her elbows.
“Slow down, baby,” he grits out, “You feel so good.”
The pet name makes her walls flutter, clenching tightly onto him. He chokes out a laugh, pulling his head back as he grabs onto her jaw. Steve turns her face and plants a big, fat kiss on her cheek. It makes Gina giggle, wrapping her arms around his shoulder and squeezing him. All the desperation inside her subsides and is taken over by a warm, heavy feeling of love for Steve. She realizes she wants to take this slow, wants to savor the moment. She pushes his hair back, gazing into his eyes. He smiles down at her, she returns it.
“Missed you,” she mumbles softly, “Missed this.”
“Me too,” he admits, cupping her chin and stroking his thumb against her lips.
“You’re pretty,” she finally says.
Steve scrunches his face up before he laughs softly, “You are.”
He rolls his hips against her slowly, his tip brushing against the sensitive, spongy part deep inside her. Gina gapes, eyebrows furrowing while she whines out softly. Steve builds a languid rhythm, petting Gina’s hair with every slow thrust. They keep the eye contact, lips parted as soft moans slip out. Even Steve’s voice is pretty, almost melodic. She thinks he’s a good singer, used to tell him all the time, though that seems inappropriate now. Gina recalls a time when they got into his parents records. Steve had put on a Three Dog Night album and sang to her, trying to be silly with a cigarette between his fingers. As funny as Steve was being, he sounded good.
Suddenly, he jerks his hips abruptly against hers. Hammering against her g-spot in a mind numbing fashion. Every damn thought in her head dissolves and that neediness takes over again. Gina writhes against him, scratching down his back while squeezing her eyes shut. He builds up a quick pace, makes Gina’s eyes roll back as he cries out. Steve drags his hand down her stomach, presses the pad of his thumb against her clit. The sensation makes Gina jump, grabbing onto Steve’s shoulders when he rubs firm circles against it.
“Stevie,” she cries, moving her fingers into his hair again.
Steve pistons his hips quicker, little grunts and pants falling beautifully from his lips as he brings Gina to completion. The orgasm is almost violent, makes her yell out as it seizes through her body. Steve makes the prettiest sound, a cross between a whine and moan. Once she’s recovered enough, she presses her palms against Steve’s cheeks, looking into his eyes while he pumps his hips into her.
“Oh, Steve,” she moans, feeling the tears collecting at the corners of her eyes, “Cum for me, baby.”
Steve grunts, his face contorting in pleasure, “Where?”
Gina sticks her tongue out, meeting his intense gaze.
“Fuck,” he whines, pulling up and quickly shuffling up to straddle her chest.
Gina wraps her lips around his tip, sinks down as much as she can and hollows out her cheeks. She looks up at him with glassy, wide eyes. The brunette whines repeatedly, emptying in her mouth with his fists gripping her hair.
“Gina!” he grits out, “Fuck, fuck…”
She continues sucking, milking every bit of cum out of him. Steve collapses down beside her, breathing heavily while Gina swallows his spunk down. She giggles, turning to cuddle up against her. He pants, holding her loosely as he comes down from his high.
“God damn,” he exhales after a minute, turning to the freckled girl.
“Mmm,” she hums, leaning close to peck his lips. After a beat she bites her lip, “I need a cigarette, I think.”
“Fuck, me too,” Steve chuckles, sitting up slowly. He stands, reaching for Gina’s hands and pulling her up with him. They silently dress and then Gina grabs her pack of cigarettes and follows Steve out to the backyard. They sit in lounge chairs and light a smoke each. Gina closes her eyes as she inhales, feels like her body is vibrating.
“So… how mad is Tommy?”
“At you?” Gina replies, turning to look at Steve, “I think… I think he just feels like you chose Nancy.”
He seems to visibly deflate at the girls name, which doesn’t make Gina feel all that great. But she’s just telling the truth. It was like ten years of friendship down the drain because some girl didn’t like Tommy. Carol told Gina that Steve said they were all assholes, but Steve was too and used to be worse than Tommy.
“Yeah, I kind of did,” he says after a beat. Gina doesn’t mention how he chose Nancy over her, too. Because her and Steve never solidified their relationship. They had to hide they were sleeping together and Gina was always too nervous to ask him what they were.
“He’s pretty mad,” she offers slowly, “But I think more than anything, he’s hurt. Don’t worry though, he’s found someone else to follow around.”
“Oh, yeah… Billy. God, that guy is such a dick. Like royally.”
Gina bites her lip, takes a deep inhale from the cigarette and feels the heavy smoke fill her lungs. She turns to Steve, “He’s nice to me.”
Steve scoffs then, “Gee, wonder why.”
“I don’t know,” Gina replies, “I haven’t really seen him be mean to anyone.”
“Oh, come on,” Steve raises his eyebrows, “You’re a pretty girl. Why else would he be nice to you?”
Gina sits up at that, tosses her cigarette to the ground before standing up, “I’m gonna go home.”
“Wait— Gina, I didn’t mean it like that,” Steve stands, following her into the house.
She ignores him, trudging back up the stairs to Steve’s room to retrieve her school bag. He doesn’t let up, footsteps right behind her. When Gina turns to exit the room, he grabs her wrists.
“I know guys like that,” he mumbles, “I used to be one. I’m sure he’s gonna try to get you in bed and I think you’re better than that.”
“I’m a big girl, Steve,” she narrows her eyes at him, “I only sleep with people I like.”
He sighs, pushes his fingers through his hair and nods. “I know… I really just don’t like that guy. I don’t really like that you’re hanging around him.”
Gina scoffs, exaggeratedly looks around his room, “Well I don’t see him here. I came here to spend time with a guy I like.”
“You like me?” Steve asks, his cheeks reddening slightly while his lips curl up.
Gina’s jaw drops, “Is that news to you?”
“Kinda,” Steve replies, chuckling softly.
He places his hands on her hips, leaning down to catch her lips in a soft kiss. As mad as she was two minutes ago, the second he touches her it all melts away. Her arms wrap around his shoulders, standing up on her tip toes to meet his mouth. Steve deepens it and Gina gives in, kisses him for a while before she’s pulling away.
“I really should get home, though,” she whispers.
Steve pouts, wrapping his arms around Gina and squeezing her, “You can’t stay for longer?”
Gina sighs, resting her head on his chest, “Yeah, I gotta get my homework done at some point.”
“I’ll drive ya,” Steve kisses the top of her head.
The ride home is like old times. Steve’s cracking jokes and turning Gina into a puddle of giggles. However the air in the car turns awkward instantly when they’re up the street from Gina’s house and Billy’s pretty Camaro is parked out front. Steve pulls over a block away, nods down the street and asks, “He come over a lot?”
Gina shrugs, “Sometimes.”
Billy’s only been in town a week and he’s been over three times, maybe that is a lot but Gina’s not sure. Steve sighs and puts his BMW in park, he turns to her.
“I’ll see you on Monday. Maybe you can come over again,” he tells her, looking a little deflated.
“I’d like that,” Gina smiles, leans over the center console and gives Steve a quick kiss. “Bye.”
She grabs her backpack and opens the door, walking the short block to her house. She turns to see Steve make a u-turn and head back towards Loch Nora. Inside, her house is quiet. She can see Tommy, Billy and Carol sitting out on the back patio. Her parents must be at Bridgette’s tumbling class. Gina sets her backpack in her room and wanders out back to meet the other teens. Tommy and Carol are messing around in the grass, so Gina walks up next to Billy. He reaches in the cooler and hands her a beer.
“Who is he?” he asks, taking a swig from his own can.
“What do you mean?” she asks, knitting her eyebrows together.
“I can always tell when a woman’s just had an orgasm,” Billy quips, smirking at the small freckled girl.
Gina’s cheeks heat up and she can feel her eyes water in embarrassment, so she quickly opens the can of Miller Light and takes a long drink of it. She swallows hard, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure ya do,” he chuckles, turning to her. “You’ve got all the markers. Messy hair, swollen lips, glassy eyes, you’re walking kinda funny. Plus you seem happier than usual. So who is he?”
Gina’s been caught. She didn’t know it could look so obvious. She smiles softly, thinking about the sex with Steve, “I’m not telling you.”
Billy frowns, “That embarrassing?”
Gina gapes, quite the opposite. She’d love to scream from the rooftop that she was just in bed with Steve Harrington. But Tommy might actually murder her.
“No,” she huffs, “No one would believe it anyways.”
Billy raises an eyebrow, looks her up and down before he laughs, “The King?”
“No!” she denies, her eyes widening, “Absolutely not.”
“That’s fucking funny. Tommy would kill you, huh?” Billy retorts, chewing on his bottom lip.
“It’s not Steve,” she presses, bringing her drink back up to her lips.
Billy sucks his teeth before reaching for his pack of Marlboros, “Don’t worry. Secrets safe with me, darlin’.”
93 notes · View notes
simplyskipper · 8 days
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What Fallout Games Should I Play?
Hello! My name is Skipper, and the Fallout games has been a special interest of mine for a few years now. With the resurgance of the fandom, and new people coming from the shows, I figured I'd make a post helping people figure out what games to play!
This is going to be the main 6 games (1-4, 76, NV), though I may add more if I play some of the other games. Feel free to add on, ask questions, or generally interact with this! I'm always happy to help people get into the games and love talking Fallout with people. :)
This is going to be as spoiler-free as possible, though I may mention some game locations vaguely, so be warned if you think that may ruin the experience.
For further reading, I highly reccomend the Independent Fallout Wiki! A lot less ads in your way, and the people over there are lovely. However, be careful, as there are spoilers there!
TLDR; New Vegas for story, Fallout 4 for gameplay and introducing concepts, Fallout 1 for authenticity, and Fallout 76 for multiplayer but absolutely nothing else of value.
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Table of Contents
Fallout 1
Fallout 2
Fallout 3
Fallout: New Vegas
Fallout 4
Fallout 76
Last Updated: April 22, 2024
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Fallout 1
Released; 1997
Setting; Southern California, 2161
Wiki Page
Almost a hundred years after the bombs fell, Vault 13's water chip has broken, and the Vault Dweller was selected (through random chance) to venture out into the wasteland and save their vault.
Pros:
The Original Fallout Game!
One of my favourites, story-wise.
Harold!
The game is relatively short compared to the others, and the story isn't overly hard to digest, in my opinion.
The 'talking heads' animations are super cool (Aradesh, Harold, Etc Etc)
Later character who I won't name but once you meet them YOU'LL KNOW
There's no limit to how many companions you can have at a time
I generally love the setting.
Cons:
The graphics do not age well. Even for the time, they were a bit lacking. (For reference, Doom came out in 1993, 4 years earlier).
Bit of a learning curve! But once you get it, it's pretty easy to use. The turn-based combat was the hardest to get a handle on.
The game DOES NOT hold your hand. Later games have objective lists and markers, but this game just has a list and memory. Pretty fun, if you're into a more difficult game!
Combat and general survival is difficult. The experience is authentic - which means you can and will die during the first combat scenario. Again, once you get it it's not that bad, but combat will remain difficult. But for some this could be a pro!
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Fallout 2
Released; 1998
Setting; Southern California, 2241
Wiki Page
80 years after the Vault Dweller's heroic rescue of their Vault, the village of Arroyo is suffering a severe drought. The Chosen One, a descendant of the Vault Dweller, has been sent to retrieve a G.E.C.K. to save their village.
Pros
The story again is very good!
A lot of the strengths of the previous game.
There's something melancholy about exploring the world of Fallout 1 with so many changes and losses. It's perfect for the setting.
Sergeant Dornan. You'll see when you meet him.
More Harold!
Cons
This was released only a year after Fallout 1, so a lot of the graphics & gameplay remain the same, if that's not something you're a fan of.
This is where the idea of "wacky vault experiments" is introduced, something I've never super loved, but that's subjective.
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Fallout 3
Released; 2008
Setting; Capital Wasteland (Formerly Washington, D.C.), 2277
Wiki Page
200 years after the war, the 19-year-old Lone Wanderer's father has mysteriously left their home at Vault 101. It is up to the Lone Wanderer to track him down and figure out what's going on, all while navigating the dangerous Capital Wasteland.
Pros
Brought the Fallout series into the modern era!
Some pretty cool locations, like Megaton and Rivet City
Sort of a pro and con, a lot of the game is spent in the underground Metro system. This is cool, but I'm not a huge fan of interior spaces. Still - it feels like a real DC Wasteland!
Galaxy News Radio is introduced, which is great background noise - and I love Three Dog. He's so silly.
No sprint button. It's not felt super bad in this game compared to Vegas, but it still can be annoying.
It feels like a post-apocalypse. The whole world is this muddy, almost sickly green, grey, and brown colour. All of the sets are carefully designed, full of dirt and debris and trash. Buildings are crumbling or outright hollowed out, the ghouls look like walking corpses (as they should be), the mole rats are nasty and all of the creatures feel gross. As they should be! This is a post-apocolypse, everything should be gross and dirty!
Lots of good world-building. Because this is based in the Capital, we get to interact with a lot of old-world history, and see how similar and different it is from our own.
Cons
Story is... not great, in my opinion.
Some of those DLCs physically hurt me. They definitely lean into the 'silly' aspects of the games, but I feel it hurts the worldbuilding and realism.
NOT Bethany Esda's best work.
Leans more into the 'game' and less on the 'role-playing', which was a big part of Fallout 1 and 2. The protagonist is 19, their father is James, and we see a bit of what their childhood looked like. You can work around it, but it's not as fun as the other games.
Sometimes the npcs are annoying. There's collision in this game, but sometimes if you step on something it'll move and a npc will shout 'Watch where you're going' or something, which gets on my nerves. Also, if you so much as look at a locked container, you get a 'That's locked for a reason'. Probably minor, but annoying.
Fire ants.
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Fallout: New Vegas
Released; 2010
Setting; Mojave Wasteland (Formerly Mojave Desert), 2281
Wiki Page
Courier Six, or just the Courier, is in the middle of a delivery when they are interrupted by Benny and shot in the head - though they make a miraculous recovery and now need to figure out exactly what kind of mess they've landed themselves in this time.
Pros
I mean, it's Fallout New Vegas. This is a lot of people's favourite, for good reason. Story is phenomenal, the entire world feels real and interactive. If you shoot someone, there's consequences, and the other npcs will acknowledge it.
THE BEST radio. All of the music slaps and helps you feel the setting. Plus, I love Mr. New Vegas, the radio host.
The characters are amazing.
The world is not too silly but still silly. Like yeah, this makes sense for a post-apocalypse. But it's also so objectively funny. Some of the best memes come from this game.
Yes Man.
As usual, I love the map design.
Instead of greens for Fallout 3, this game is bathed in oranges and brown - making it feel warm, perfectly capturing the desert setting, and dusty.
the DLCs are amazing!!
We love the companions in this house.
I love how morally grey it is. No one is perfect, no faction is outright good or outright bad (except the Legion, fuck those guys). It's up to you to pick which you think is the lesser evil, which is the best future for the Mojave. Or you can kill them all, up to you.
Cons
The development for this game was pretty famously rocky. It was outsourced to Obsidian, and they were given only 18 months to make it. Therefore, this game is very similar to Fallout 3, with some general improvements here and there.
There is still no sprint button, which is definitely felt here. A lot of the stuff is spread out, so thewre's a lot of wandering through desert, slowly making your way to your destination. It also feels more empty. The great city of New Vegas is sparsely populated, quiet, and desolate - despite it being such a big deal and supposedly so popular.
Honest Hearts DLC :////
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Fallout 4
Released; 2015
Setting; The Commonwealth (Formerly Boston, MA), 2287
Wiki Page
In 2077, the Sole Survivor (default names Nate or Nora) is ready to start a family. In their little neighbourhood, with their white picket fence and infant son, it is a time of new beginnings - despite the war raging around them. Unfortunately, the war quickly catches up to them, and their family is forced to take shelter in Vault 111, where they are frozen in time for 210 years. They emerge following the kidnapping of their infant son, into a time so different to their own, battling this new world alongside the ghosts of the old.
Pros
The graphics have been updated, and it looks great! Mostly. Instead of washed-out greens and browns, this game is bright and vibrant.
Some more awesome companions. Honestly, I love them so much.
I really like the level-up system in this. I prefer 3/NV, but the tier system is fun and visually neat.
Better crafting system. And more crafting systems in general.
Settlements!!! This game introduces settlements, which basically means there's a bunch of set locations around the map that you can take over and build in! You get a lot of freedom and are responsible for meeting the needs for people in the settlement. You can get some mods for more freedom/flexibility, and you can mostly ignore it if you want.
Cons
The story is... also lacking. It feels almost... unfinished? Some beats are strange and it's just like. What.
Playing this before Fallout 3 pissed me off so much, because there's so much that is ripped off of Fallout 3. The Commonwealth is brought up, the radio music is the same, the vault numbers so similar, there's even an early version of Vault 111. It feels lazy. Fallout New Vegas was more creative, and they had a fraction of the time 4 has.
40-50% of the game is spent in loading screens.
Preston Garvey deserves so much better. "AnOtHeR sEtTlEmEnT nEeDs YoUr HeLp!"
Nick Valentine is non-romancable.
It's so easy to forget about the main objective, and hard to really care about it. This is a common problem I've heard, so it's not just me.
Radio host gets on my nerves :/
Nuka-World DLC is frustrating. But at least it's not. Sideyes Honest Hearts (Fo:NV).
Game is... easy. Too Easy. Deathclaws are supposed to be dangerous and difficult to kill.
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Fallout 76
Released; 2018
Setting; Appalachia (Midwestern US mountain range), 2102-2104
Wiki Page
25 years after the bombs fell, all members of Vault 76 have been kicked out in order to rebuild society.
Pros
It's. Multiplayer? Kinda.
I made some friends on there, which was neat.
Return of item condition. So.
CAMPs are fun. Like the settlement but without NPCs to look after and allows location flexibility.
Has. Some new songs on the radio?
ALMOST HEAVEN. WEST VE-
Amazing map design! The outside is gorgeous and feels like Appalachia, for the most part.
Honestly, I prefer this version of VATS (the game's targeting system). In other games, VATS will pause and slow down combat to help with aim, and can be kind of annoying. Here, the combat speed is the same, you just spend some AP (stamina) for aim assist.
Cons
I prefer settlements tbh
What's not to mention? Story sucks, game sucks, etc etc. It's pretty famously bad.
I usually love the story, but checked out very fast and spent most of my time running around. But I honestly didn't last long even then.
The game is broken. Like, fundamentally broken. You are constantly subjected to crashes, bugs, etc etc. Fallout 4 is buggy, but this takes it to an extreme.
50-70% of the game is loading screens.
The interiors are huge, and there is no local map, so you very easily get lost.
Generally the story is so stupid.
Fallout 1st is a cash grab.
Unbalanced.
Bad.
Some videos I like about Fallout 76
Internet Historian's video on the history and release. I'm iffy on Internet Historian as a creator, but I do like the video. Let's just hope it's not plagiarised.
Joseph Anderson's video on the game at it's released state. Primarily focuses on how poorly the game plays and how broken it is. Super funny.
PrivateSession's video released in 2023, reviewing a more current version of the game. More focused on story.
PatricianTV's 4-part series released in 2023, reviewing a more current version of the game. More focused on the game and gameplay.
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In conclusion; thank you for reading! As I mentioned, any criticism, questions, and suggestions are welcome! I hate/love fallout and am always happy to drag people down with me.
Also, would people be interested in a post discussing the story/setting/timeline? Like where I infodump further about the universe. To make it easier to digest and answer questions. Or give me a chance to infodump further about fallout.
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Text
Story of Our Life
A Harry Styles Imagine
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Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader
Word Count: 4.1k
Warnings: None
A/N: This is something a little different that was inspired by a dream I had where I was singing Story of My Life with 1D in a car... Also, I made some cover art on procreate plz don't judge my mediocre art skills lmao. Hope you like it!!!!!
Masterlist
Excerpts from
STORY OF OUR LIFE
by 
Y/N Styles
To Louis, the best chauffeur I’ve ever had.
To Liam, who keeps us all sane. Steady on, mate.
To Zayn, who always offers a shoulder to cry on (and a cigarette).
To Niall, the king of late-night chats (and snacks).
To Harry, for everything, forever.
Introduction by Harry Styles
Before she was my wife, Y/N Styles was Y/N Y/L/N. We met in 2011, six months before we would be setting out on the Up All Night tour. Even though I had been on TV, in recording studios, and performed live on the X Factor Live Tour 2011, I was still just a shy kid from Holmes Chapel who couldn’t quite believe his luck. I think I spent that whole year in a state of disbelief, afraid that at any moment, someone would tell me that it was all a joke and I wasn’t very good at singing, actually. Every time I took a shower, I half-expected Ashton Kutcher to jump out at me from behind the shower curtain. Y/N, on the other hand, walked into the conference room at Columbia Records, sat down at the head of the table, folded her arms across her chest, and asked us each, individually, if we had read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and, if so, how did we feel about it? Immediately, I knew that this girl was going to be someone special.
Her dad, Greg Y/L/N, was going to be our tour manager. When it was time for the label to put a team together, he was at the top of the list: a goofy dad with a daughter around our age who had toured with some of the biggest musicians of the 90s. He was the perfect choice for a bunch of kids who didn’t really know what they were doing: industry experience to make sure the day-to-day operations went smoothly, and the paternal instinct to protect us as best he could (we called him Papa Bear, which he pretended to hate, but we all knew he secretly loved it). 
We grew up together, spent months on end traveling the world, learning algebra on private planes and sneaking out of hotel rooms to wander foreign cities in the middle of the night. Fast forward to today. While Y/N was pregnant with Willa, our second child, she spent the whole third trimester on bed rest. Eventually, she got so bored that she scrolled all the way back on iCloud. Our older daughter, Hazel, was fascinated by the pictures of me and the band, and Y/N spent hours recounting our days on tour. I told her that she should write a book, but she refused at first. We have enough money, she said. People will think I’m making a cash grab. I told her that was bollocks, but if she really felt that way, she could donate all the profits to charity. It’s perfect, really, I said. The 20-year anniversary of One Direction is coming up, and it would be cool to give the fans a peek behind the scenes. Really, there’s no one better than you, darling, because you know the real us. She agreed, but only if all five of us were okay with it, and if all of the proceeds could go to The Trevor Project. So really, it’s actually me you should be thanking for convincing her to do this in the first place.
Anyways, here it is. The Story of Our Life: Growing Up With the World’s Biggest Boy Band, written by my amazing wife, Y/N Styles. 
Chapter 5
Out of all the One Direction boys, Louis was the first one to get his driver's license in America. He spent the few months leading up to the Where We Are tour with his girlfriend in California, and wanted to buy a fancy car to drive her around in. Hence, the license. So, when the tour made its way to North America, he somehow managed to convince my dad and the security team to let him drive us from the hotel to the venue a few times. Of course, the windows were tinted (and we were not allowed to open them), we were surrounded by a security detail, and there was always a bodyguard in the backseat, but it didn’t matter. 
On the night of the second show in Detroit, we all piled into a tricked-out Toyota Sienna, the best minivan on the market in 2011. Louis and Liam sat up front, I was squished between Harry and Niall in the middle, and Zayn and the bodyguard sat in the way back. We had the radio blasting and were singing along to some absolute bangers, like Party Rock Anthem and Super Bass, when the first few notes of Story of My Life started playing. Louis groaned and reached over to change the station, but I leaned forwards and slapped his hand out of the way before he could, turning the volume up a few notches. 
“Written in these walls are the stories that I can’t explain,” I sang along with Harry’s voice, turning to look at him with a mischievous smirk. He was mouthing along but bit his lip as soon as I caught him. Liam piped up with his part and I shook my head, laughing. 
“Do you guys seriously only ever sing your parts?” I asked. Next to me, I felt Niall shrug. 
“Feels wrong to sing someone else’s, even off stage,” he said, before chiming in on the background vocals as Zayn jumped in on his part. 
“Well, you should do it anyway, just for fun.” Liam turns around and lifts his eyebrows in a silent challenge. Harry and Niall jumped in, and soon we were all belting out the words to every part.
When the final chorus came up, I turned to rest my head on Harry’s shoulder, singing his part back to him. He was usually the shameless one, but his cheeks were tinted pink and he stopped singing for a few seconds. His green eyes were wide, but they never once left my own. I felt his chest rise and fall in a deep, steadying breath before he began singing again. 
From that moment on, Story of My Life was our song. Every time they performed it, he turned towards the side of the stage during the last chorus, where I sang along. On the rare occasions that I sat in the audience, his eyes always managed to find mine. We sang lines to each other all the time. Our favorite thing to do, much to everyone else’s dismay, was yell Zayn’s pre-chorus to each other from across a room. 
“And I’ll be gone, gone, tonight,” one of us would start. 
“The ground beneath my feet is open wide,” the other would respond. 
“The way that I’ve been holding on too tight,” the first person would say, before we both shouted, “With nothing in betweeeeeeeen!” That line was always the loudest, and we always dragged out the last syllable until we couldn’t breathe anymore. 
Chapter 9
When Harry’s solo album dropped, I was in class, taking my Algebra 101 final. My test-taking nerves were multiplied tenfold by the fact that I knew people were listening to it right now, and I wasn’t. We had kept in touch after One Direction broke up, mostly over text but occasionally, when he was in LA, he came to my house to have dinner with me and my Grandma (and Dad, if he was home).
I listened to it all the way through on the drive back home to Pasadena after I finished my exam, and as soon as I pulled into the driveway, I texted him. 
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I signed up for a presale code, and refreshed my laptop continuously for five straight minutes in order to get tickets for his LA show. Harry was furious with me. When I texted him that I was officially coming to the show, he called me in the middle of a meeting with his tour team to yell at me. Something along the lines of, “I put you on the VIP list, you dumbass! And invites to the afterparty were just sent out yesterday!”
To be fair, I just wanted to support my friend, and to this day I still feel uncomfortable asking for free tickets from anyone when I have the means to pay for them. I think it’s all the guilt from five years of attending One Direction concerts for free. But anyways, that next fall, I found myself backstage at the Greek Theater with a VIP badge around my neck, feeling intense deja vu as security led me to Harry’s dressing room. 
“Y/N!” He yelled as soon as the door opened. I had no time to react; I was nearly knocked over by the force of his hug. His mom and sister were there, too, and I was passed around for more hugs before settling next to Harry on the couch. 
“So, how’s it going? How’s school?” he asked, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. That’s one of the things I love most about Harry; no matter how long it’s been since he’s seen someone, he always picks back up like no time has passed. He is scary good at keeping up with what everyone else is doing, even when his own life 
“Kicking my ass already and it’s only been three weeks,” I said with a chuckle. “But better than last year, that’s for sure!” Harry’s brows furrowed and he waited expectantly. “Did I not tell you that my original roommate was psycho?”
“No, I don’t think that’s come up before.” I pulled up a photo on my phone and handed it over to him without a word, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen his eyes wider than they were in that moment. 
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“Holy shit,” she said.
“I wanna see!” Gemma whined, leaning across the coffee table to snatch the phone from him. “Oh my god, Mum, look!” She handed the phone to Anne, who frowned down at it. 
“This was your dorm?”
“For all of three days, yes,” you answered. “I’m not sure what creeped me out more, the life-sized cardboard cutout of Harry watching my every move, or the fact that she threatened to blackmail me if I didn’t introduce her to you.” Harry was doubled over with laughter with tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. 
“What are the chances of you, of all people, rooming with a crazy One Direction fan in college?” he asked, struggling to breathe enough to support his vocal chords. 
“The school investigated and they found an invoice for a private investigator on her computer in a folder with a bunch of my personal information and photos of me that looked like they were taken from behind bushes and trash cans. Apparently, she gave him that paparazzi photo from the week we were in London during On the Road Again and he was able to track me down.”
“He was able to figure out your identity from that photo?” I nodded, and Harry looked impressed, yet mildly disturbed. “She must’ve paid a fortune.” The photo in question features all five members of One Direction on their way into the O2 arena, and in the background, you can see the blurry back of my head as I slipped into the back door ahead of them.
When it was time for Harry to get ready, a security guard led Anne, Gemma, and I to the VIP section and we settled in for the show. He killed it on stage, and it was great to see him back in his element, joking with the fans between songs and waving to everyone he made eye contact with. He performed What Makes You Beautiful and the cheers were so loud, even in the small-theater setting, that I knew I would probably have trouble hearing tomorrow. 
“Alright, now normally I’d go straight into Kiwi, but there’s someone special in the audience today and this next song means a lot to the both of us, and she was the one who told me to sing all of the parts even though it feels weird, I hope you’ll forgive me for making you wait a few more minutes,” he said with a smirk, knowing that no one was going to complain about an extra song. My smile widened and Anne wrapped an arm around me, squeezing my shoulder, to acknowledge how special this moment was about to be. Just like old times, Harry looked straight at me as the intro music started to play. 
“Written in these walls are the stories that I can’t explain,” he began, and immediately tears started welling up behind my eyes. I joined in, leaning my head on Anne’s shoulder for support. When he got to the second pre-chorus, he yelled out “And I’ll be gone, gone, tonight!” and held out his mic for the audience to sing the next line, but I caught an almost-imperceptible wink as he smiled up at me and I knew that he could care less if anyone else chimed in.
“The fire beneath my feet is burning bright,” Anne, Gemma, and I screamed, hoping that we were loud enough for him to pick our voices out of the crowd. 
He sang the next line, and so did the audience, but I kept my mouth shut and joined in on the last line. He dragged out “between” so long that he had to jump back in on “I take her home.” I was the only one still singing along with him at that point, and the audience let out confused laughter, looking back and forth trying to figure out why he wasn’t moving on yet. 
Chapter 11
We’ve never talked about how we got together, and once the gossip magazines found out that I was the daughter of One Direction’s former tour manager, they just filled in the blanks themselves. I try not to read those things, but I do remember seeing a few headlines like “CHILDHOOD SWEETHEARTS RECONNECTED!” over that grainy paparazzi photo of us in Holmes Chapel before the Manchester Love on Tour stops. Others spun the fact that I was doing PR on the tour into a fake “HARRY STYLES KISSES EMPLOYEE” scandal, and it just spiraled out of control from there. But I’m getting ahead of myself. 
When the pandemic hit, I was at home in Pasadena with my dad and grandma. We had no other “bubble” because my grandma was immunocompromised. Needless to say, I got very bored very quickly. It got to the point that I would cycle through the contacts on my phone, Facetiming everyone in alphabetical order by last name until someone picked up. Harry was one of the only people who answered every single time. We ended up calling each other almost every day, sometimes to chat, or just to have someone there, in the background, while we went about our days. He was with his band, working on what would eventually become Harry’s House, and I spent many days listening to them work through different lyric and melody combinations while curled up in my childhood bedroom with my work laptop. He even interrupted a Zoom meeting I was in, once, excited to play part of “Music for a Sushi Restaurant” for me.
I was working remotely for a PR firm, after graduating college in 2020, my options were limited and, in the end, the place only gave me an offer because they worked with Columbia Records and knew my dad. I mostly wrote copy about movies to be put on Wikipedia or IMDB, which was super boring, so Harry seriously saved my life by letting me listen in on his studio sessions, or to the audio of whatever show he was watching and his commentary. 
By the time he was able to start prepping for Love on Tour, I was working at the firm’s office building on Sunset,  just about ready to quit my job and sell foot pics online. 
“Come on tour with me,” he said, (seemingly) impulsively, during one of our Facetime sessions in which he patiently listened to me complain about how Mark from accounting wouldn’t stop coming over to my desk to “chat” every hour on the hour. 
“What?” I answered, laughing a little. 
“Seriously, Y/N, it’ll be just like old times! We can race on the dolleys they use to bring the speakers in, and I’ll even let you win this time.” I rolled my eyes.
“It’s not really winning, then, is it?”
“Okay, fine, I won’t let you win. But I am serious, Y/N. You should join me on tour.”
“What am I supposed to do, just follow you around the world like some sad, desperate groupie?”
“I mean, you are a bit sad and desperate.” I flipped him off, to which he responded by cackling with laughter. 
“I’m sad because my job sucks, and desperate to get away from Mark, not to get into your pants.”
“Well, you wouldn’t be my mistress, you’d be doing PR for the tour, obviously.” Harry’s cheeks flushed with the slightest hint of pink, 
“Well, maybe you should have led with that!” I started laughing, too, and it took a while for either of us to be able to speak again. 
“Okay, sorry, I’ll start over.” He took a deep breath to calm his giggles, but still couldn’t manage to keep a straight face. “Y/N Y/L/N, I would like to formally request that you join me as my PR Manager for Love on Tour. My publicist is about to give birth, like, any day now so she obviously can’t go gallivanting around the world. Really, you’d be doing me a favor, and who better than someone who already has my dressing room requests memorized since half of them are actually yours.” 
“You still have the same dressing room requests?” I gave him a skeptical look. 
“Old habits die hard.” He shrugged. “And even though I don’t drink Diet Coke, having it in the fridge makes it feel like you’re there with me.” The pink was now red and I bit my lip to keep myself from smiling too wide. 
“Alright, Mr. Styles, you have a deal.”
Like he said, old habits die hard, so even though we were now adults and my dad wasn’t on tour with us, we still fell into our old routines. Back in the day, I was never allowed to be alone in a room with one of the boys, but we had our ways around it. Usually by walking through the hallways of the floor of the hotel everyone was staying on, checking in with the guards stationed at either side on every loop. So while we could have hung out in our rooms, more often than not, we walked through the hotel hallways in circles just like we used to. 
The night before the Pittsburgh show, Harry showed up at my door at 10pm with a bag of sour gummy worms. 
“It’s not Haribo, but it’s close enough,” he said with a shrug, flashing me his trademark “Harry Styles” grin. And just like that, we were off to wear a hole in the carpet, or so I thought. We hadn’t even made it through one full loop before he pulled me through a random door marked “Employees Only” and dragged me up three flights of stairs. 
“Are you taking me somewhere private so you can murder me?” I asked as we trudged through the dirty stairwell. 
“Something like that,” he answered. But when we reached the top, he opened another door and we were on the roof. 
The view was gorgeous, the moon was bright and cast a cool glow on the Pittsburgh skyline. I turned to Harry with wide eyes.
“Scoped it out earlier,” he said with a sheepish smile on his lips. “Just thought we could use a change of scenery.”
“It’s perfect,” I said, reaching out to squeeze his hand in thanks. “As much as I love hotel hallways, this is better.”
We sat on the edge of the roof, dangling our legs over the top of the building next door, and passed the bag of gummy worms back and forth as we talked. We were out there for so long that my eyelids started to get heavy and our conversation slowed down. I leaned my head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around me, huddling closer for warmth (or so I thought). 
“Wanna listen to some music?” He asked. I nodded and he pulled his Airpods out, sticking one in my ear and the other in his own. 
Story of My Life started playing and my heart rate sped up, pulsing adrenaline through my body. Suddenly, I was wide awake and hyper aware of every place our bodies were touching (thighs, hips, my shoulder to his chest, his shoulder to my head, his arm on my bicep). 
I lifted my head up and turned to look at him.
“Do you ever get sick of this song?” I asked. My voice was quiet because I wasn’t sure I actually wanted to know the answer. 
“No,” he replied. His voice was low and raspy and it made my stomach flutter. I felt myself leaning in, unconsciously, as he continued. “It reminds me of you, and I could never get sick of you.” 
He brought his free hand up to my face and rubbed his thumb in soft circles on my cheekbone, and his eyes flickered down to my lips. The distance between us closed as if we were replaying something that had already happened in slow motion. Eventually, I could just barely feel the soft brush of his lips against mine. My mouth fell open just a bit in anticipation of what was to come, but Harry paused. 
“It’s you, Y/N,” he whispered.”It’s always been you.”
Feel free to cross my name out and write in your own, I won’t be mad. I get it; what really happened was better than any self-insert fanfiction.
Chapter 17
I’m going to keep most of the details of our wedding private, but I will tell you about our first dance, because it ties into a lot of the other stories that I’ve written about. If you haven’t noticed by now, Story of My Life is sort of the underlying theme of this book, and that’s because it’s been the underlying theme of my life, the soundtrack to my relationship with Harry. 
After dinner, and some absolutely mental toasts, Harry and I were eager to get the party started. Even though he’s not the best dancer, I have never met anyone who dances with as much joy as Harry does, and I love getting pulled into his wild, spontaneous routines. But our first dance was different. The fairy lights surrounding the garden were twinkling in the moonlight, and Niall, Liam, Louis, and Zayn stood on the sidelines to sing, you guessed it, Story of My Life. We swayed in circles, gently, without trying to put on a show or impress anyone else. It was a beautiful, full circle moment, and the boys even dragged out “between” just a little bit to tease us. 
Life is funny. One minute, you’re sixteen and screaming “The fire beneath my feet is burning bright,” at your best friend and you think that this is it, you will be touring the world with your friends forever, and the next you’re twenty-seven and in a wedding dress, leaving mascara stains on the shoulder of his suit. But I wouldn’t change a thing, because I think it was written in the walls all along. 
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