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royallyprincesslilly · 1 year

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Title: If This Is Love, You Gotta Ride For Me {4}

Title: If This Is Love, You Gotta Ride For Me {4}

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warning: Heavy Angst, Cursing, Violence, Heartbreak, Blood, TW: Cancer Talk, TW: Murder, TW: Cancer Death, TW: Mentions of Sexual Assult, TW: Mention of Attempted Sexual Assault (Not graphic nor successful), PLENTY OF WORDS, Plot Heavy

Words: 9.4k

Summary: They say the truth will set you free but these truths can kill. Will revenge be enough?

Note: We're almost there. 1 more part to go.

As always, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy.

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****NOT Edited/Proofread****

Previous: If This Is Love, I Don’t Want It {1} | If This Is Love, You Need To Prove It {2} | If This Is Love, You Need To Mean It {3} |

-Lewis-

That was it then. He’d lost you. He could see it in your eyes. Those damn expressive angel eyes that always bored into him, always haunted him, always crippled him. He guessed they’d haunt him for the rest of his life now. He’d dream of them, envision them, and miss them. He didn’t know how he’d move on; he didn’t see a way to, but he also knew that when you’d made up your mind you made it up for good, and rarely if ever was it changeable.

His phone sounded with another notification. He expected it to be Aleeza, but it was the fellas group chat.

MSG Miles: I feel like we should be there when you tell old bitty to kick rocks.

MSG Andrew: Or to make sure she don’t tie your ass up and have her way with you. I totally see her being a Mrs. Robinson on 1000.

MSG Daniel: Things any better with Y/N? If you want I can put in the good word.

He sighed feeling more than thankful he had them. Throughout his life, they’d remained loyal and never fake. He was grateful they were there for mostly all the highs and even more of the lows. This low though really felt all-consuming.

MSG: Nah, I can handle the old bitty. I’ll show y’all the security footage later if she gets outta pocket.

MSG Miles: For entertainment purposes I kinda want her to get outta pocket and get shamed. Can’t wait for this cold dish of revenge Y/N is planning on serving.

MSG Daniel: She was def wild for all that shit she’s done. You don’t ever try to take anyone’s life for stupid reasons like dick.

MSG Andrew: Guess you can officially say you got these chicks wildin’ the fuck out over yo’ dick.

He knew it was a joke and any other time he probably would have laughed at it, only right now, it was too fresh—too raw. He was right though. Before he’d had situations with fans and groupies who’d done some wild shit to get his attention or even get close, but this took the cake. He wasn’t proud at all.

MSG: Shit’s wild.

MSG Daniel: How’s Y/N? frfr.

MSG: Not good. She’s not taking care of herself, avoiding the situation when it comes to us, and pushing me away. Shit’s not good. She looks at me and it feels like I’m looking at a stranger.

MSG Miles: That’s tough.

MSG Daniel: You gotta understand tho. Imagine finding all this shit out which changes things but still being on the receiving end of all that hurt. She must feel betrayed.

MSG Andrew: The whole virginity thing too is crazy. Give her time. It’s fresh right now. She probably hasn’t registered it all.

He knew Andrew was right, he could even see Daniel’s reasons too, but it didn’t make it any easier for him. The worst part for him was that he was trying to protect you the best way he thought of at that time, he was trying to protect you from any more danger after your accident and instead, he’d ended up shielding you from nothing. He’d caused the damage, but he couldn’t contain the fallout.

The self-loathing part of him wanted you to run away from him and never look back. He’d always worried that he’d only bring heartache to anyone he truly loved and here he was doing just that. Groaning, he rubbed the back of his neck trying to take away the pounding that had settled in since you walked into his bedroom in Monaco. He didn’t know how he was going to make it through the rest of the week.

MSG Daniel: Did she tell you the plan?

MSG: Nope.

He wanted to support you in this but rather than inserting himself he decided to let you take lead. If you wanted him to be involved you’d tell him. He knew better than to hold too tightly because it would have the opposite effect.

The sound of his doorbell rang throughout the house, and he knew who it was. He’d expected her. Even though he’d texted her his decision he knew she wouldn’t stand for it. He pulled up the security app on his phone and sighed seeing her standing there in a matching white pencil skirt suit. Her professionally dyed hair reflected the sun until it shined. She looked irritated and he decided then to irritate her some more.

A minute stretched and she waited. Before 2 minutes passed, she rang the bell again and again and again. She was really beyond getting on his nerves. He’d had enough. Tapping the microphone he began.

“What do you want Aleeza?”

Her head spun around before looking up right into the inconspicuous camera there. His security team thought it was the best spot to catch people unaware.

“Really Lewis!? Open the fucking door. You’re really pissing me off!”

He scoffed, “Why would I care? You gave me an ultimatum, actually, my blackmail options and I promptly gave you your response in the allotted time, swiftly go fuck yourself, lady. My dick isn’t for sale, lone or rental.”

Her jaw dropped. “Lewis! I suggest you think this through and think about your future and career. Think about everything you’re putting at risk.”

“Fuck! Shut up! No matter what you say or do my answer won’t change. It’s a no. I don’t want you in any way. You disgust me.”

She looked like she could blast off into the air any minute. He could actually see the steam coming out of her ears. Either she wasn’t used to being told no, or she’d really expected him to agree.

“You’re going to regret this come Friday. I swear it! Her blood is on your hands.”

He saw red! “Shut the fuck up! I swear to everything I value in this world, her being a primary one, if you touch her or hire someone else to touch even one skin follicle on her I will make you regret the day you ever put Jordan Y/L/N in your sights. I hold grudges and have a lot of money at my disposal and those two things spell trouble for people like you. Leave before I call my security to escort you off the property. Also don’t come back.”

She shoved her middle finger in the air while glaring at the camera then she stomped off. He watched her get into her car and slap and punch the steering wheel as she jerked back and forth. She must have been screaming and losing her shit. She’d played her ultimate hand—the four of a kind but he’d outplayed her with his royal flush.

As she rolled off his property he pulled up his messages with you.

MSG: From this moment be extra careful. She’s livid and feels she has nothing to lose. People like that are wild cards and wild cards are dangerous.

A few minutes passed before you replied.

MSG AngelEyes: Let the bitch come.

Your confidence and rage came through each word and though he was worried he also fell deeper in love with you because of them.

~~~~~~~~

-Y/N-

Rage is a quiet beast. It was one of the trickiest motherfuckers out there. There’d be times you think you’d tamed it and found a way to simmer it down only for a fragment of a word or a look made it flare. Rage was something familiar to you. You’d felt it when your mother passed, felt the crushing and suffocating feeling of it coiling within you, felt it trying to take over everything until it had. That rage changed your life.

This was the second time you’d dealt with it. You thought you had a better handle on it, but you’d come to realize that it was in your veins, in your blood, embedded in you. Shit, you were rage. when you least expected it the beast raged, and it took everything to rein it in. You had to because it wasn’t time to fully unleash it yet.

So Monday passed in a whirl. You worked, took meetings, did interviews, made plans for the team, and even the last-minute foundation event that you were in charge of planning. You were surprised no one saw the difference in you. It was your father who looked at you with an extra layer of worry. You had to assure him you were fine while making a note to make it up to him Friday night. By Friday night, he was going to see the scales of the chimera he’d married.

Tuesday came and mirrored Monday. You piled more and more on needing a constant distraction from the war in your head and the ache in your heart. This week was extra torturous because you were supposed to be at one of Lewis’ races to stand in for your father and you had no idea how you were going to make it through. Looking at him had become next to impossible, being anywhere near him was too much. You had no hope it would go smoothly.

When Wednesday came around and you landed in Barcelona, you told yourself to just get through the rest of the week. You were practically shutting down already. It took everything in you to get through the interviews. Took all of your composure and high media training to smile and laugh for the cameras. It took even more strength to take pictures with Lewis with his hand at the small of your back.

Your body still remembered him, still craved him, but your brain and heart were at war, leaving you in a chaotic state of panic. He must have noticed because he tried to put you on the end with George in between you as often as he could. Even that small action made your heart reach for him though your brain scoffed at it claiming it was the least he could do.

As you watched his race, you felt dead and suspected you looked it too. You noticed his distraction during the race, noticed he was driving very unlike himself but rather than not caring you found yourself getting upset about it.

“Maybe it’s time for Jordan to think about ending his contract if this is the quality of racing he’s giving us.”

Aleeza’s voice had the impact of nails running down a chalkboard. Instantly you reared around at her. She stood there in a mini skirt that was several decades too young for her and a blouse that was almost see-through. Trashy, you thought. You envisioned yourself Naruto running to her to then headbutting her then slamming her face into the cemented floor of the paddock and jumping on her back with your knee between her shoulder blades while placing her head in a headlock until she took her last breath.

It was then you realized you hadn’t tamed shit. It was in full control.

“Uh hello! What the hell is wrong with you, Y/N?”

Snapping back to reality, you saw she stared at you with confusion and amusement. Your head twitched with the effort it took to contain this beast you wanted to unleash in every way.

“See, I told Jordan that giving you too much responsibility wouldn’t be good for the brand or the family.”

She sighed and watched the screen.

“He definitely doesn’t look to be doing well today. Any idea why?”

“Oh, how would I know that now Aleeza? However—you don’t look to be doing well either. Your skin looks quite—dry.”

Aleeza gasped and clapped her hand on her cheek.

“Maybe you should make an appointment with my esthetician. She’d never let me go out looking like this.”

Aleeza glared at you then she took one step too close. It was a step you mirrored. “I can also give you the number to an age-appropriate stylist who won’t have you out here looking foul.”

You gave her the once over furthering her humiliation.

“When your father isn’t around the real you comes out.”

“Says the scaly slithering snake to the human.”

She looked as if she wanted to hit you and you prayed she did.

“I wish you would bitch. Make my fucking day.”

Aleeza must have seen you really didn’t give two fucks because she backed off a few seconds later.

“Enjoy this week, Y/N. Enjoy it well,” Aleeza said before she walked off.

The effort it took to flip back to the unbothered professional should have been huge, but it felt like lite work and that scared you a little.

“Don’t allow anyone, man, woman, or child, but especially a man turn you into something or someone you are not!”

Your mother’s words came back to you then and you clung to them more fiercely than you’d ever hung on to anything before. Her sage words held new meaning now. Was that how she’d taken the high road when it came to Aleeza back in the day? Was that how she’d remained so classy? You missed her even more now than ever.

By the time Friday came around and the fundraiser event arrived, you were back in London and more than ready to get the night over with. You looked yourself over once more then nodded at your reflection. This was as good as it was gonna get, you said to yourself. A message from your father told you of his arrival then you quickly made your way down to the waiting limo.

Once you got in, you smiled adoringly at your father.

“Wow, you look absolutely beautiful darling.”

“Thanks dad. You’re looking very debonair too.”

He smiled then straightened his tie and posed. You giggled and shook your head.

“The ladies won’t know what hit 'em.”

He chuckled but Aleeza’s hating ass cleared her throat exaggeratedly.

“Really?!”

You rolled your eyes. “Figure of speech. Really Aleeza, since you like to dress so young you’d think you’d keep your vocabulary just as young too.”

A small hiss escaped her. An actual hiss. The bitch was showing more and more of her true form with each passing day, you thought.

“Ladies,” your father warned.

You raised your hands up in defeat. “Kidding dad, you know I joke a lot.”

Aleeza glared at you from across the limo, clearly not interested in pretending anymore. Good, you thought. Tonight was going to be her big reveal. Once the three of you stepped out of the limo in front of the flashing cameras you smiled, waved, and portrayed the perfect family. The majority of the photographers wanted pics of you and your father together sans Aleeza and that suit you fine. It was the perfect beginning of the night, starve the bitch of what she craved most—attention.

As the event went on, you smiled, took interviews, joked, and dazzled always remaining the center of the group discussion. Plenty of attendees complimented you on not only how beautiful you looked but how knowledgeable you were about a plethora of things not only F1 related. Those compliments were what brought you the most flattery. You’d always prized your brain over your beauty. Your mother taught you that beauty could fade and be taken away, but your intelligence was always yours.

More than halfway through the event your back was turned to the crowd as you guzzled another glass of champagne. They weren’t helping with anything really.

“Look who cleans up like an actual princess of F1.”

You turned to the teasing words and smiled at Miles. “Ha ha, funny.”

“You look great, Y/N,” Andrew said leaning in to kiss your cheek.

Miles and Daniel mirrored his actions and sentiments.

“Thank you.”

Lewis came into view, and he looked good—too good. The black tuxedo he wore looked made for him and probably was. From the look of it, you could tell it was probably a McQueen piece. He always could cut a good suit and Lewis loved how they fit him. You got lost scanning his attire for a few moments before you looked away and grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing waiter.

“Hi,” he quietly said.

You nodded and looked around the room.

“Glad you guys could make it,” you said.

“Of course. We said we had your back and if she really plans on making her move tonight then nowhere else we’d rather be,” Daniel said.

Being the amazing hacker—no information investigator he was, Daniel had been able to tap into her phone and clone it. Whenever she got a message so did you and she’d gotten plenty of messages over the week. She was very busy making plans for your downfall. It was insane how she moved. It was like she was highly intelligent or had bouts of it but was basically a basic dumb bitch. Who made illegal plans through cellphones? Who tried to off someone more than once? Who used the same person the 2nd time as the 1st? It was confusing as shit. Was she smart or stupid?

“I think she will. She’s said plenty of shit that hints at me not making it past this week.”

Lewis turned to the bar giving the group his back as he hung his head. You glanced at them hoping they could fill in what that was. Daniel, Miles, and Andrew all solemnly shook their heads. You wondered if he was still beating himself up about not placing in the last race. The race he practically had the worst finish in his entire career. He was always the hardest on himself.

A thought hit you then. Was he putting everything on his shoulders and beating himself up?

“This is dangerous,” Lewis said before he sighed. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I’ll be fine,” you dismissed.

“You can’t use yourself as bait.”

“There are so many of my guys on her tonight, no one will get near her. I promise bro.”

You felt safe knowing Daniel had assigned an additional 8 guys to bodyguard you. They were guys he’d personally chosen so you knew he trusted them and their ability to get the job done. A message came through on your phone and you knew it wasn’t for you. It was a message to Aleeza from whoever “Dom” was.

MSG Dom: Everything is ready. You sure you want sharp.

MSG Aleeza: Definitely. I want it to be excruciating.

MSG Dom: Such a waste. She’s hot. Maybe a little fun before it’s done?

MSG Aleeza: I don’t give a shit what else you want to do. Just get it done by midnight.

MSG Dom: Consider it done.

Your stomach rolled as you showed them the message.

“Wow,” they said in unison.

‘Yep. Anyway, enjoy yourselves, fellas. Seeing as it is my actual death day, I intend to live it up.”

You walked away and joined a group of faces you knew while trying to put the very disturbing facts in the back of your mind. When you made your speech to the crowd no one could tell anything was wrong. You were the picture of calm, grace, and professionalism. Your father oozed pride while Aleeza oozed her usual disdainful slime. It was more fun to fuck with her now so you did taunting her with glares, smiles and waves as a loving stepdaughter would. She hated it but the photographers loved it and ate it up.

Once business was finished you mingled and even allowed some of the attendees to swirl you around the dance floor. How you got through it, you had no idea. The sheer will of the heavens was not enough, it took everything above and in between. Twenty or so minutes after your father left, you looked at your phone and saw it was nearing 11:30. Deciding it was time to leave you shot Daniel a message letting him know.

As soon as you stood, Lewis approached you. The sad puppy dog look in his eyes made your belly flip and heart beat out your chest to him.

“If I don’t ask you now I’ll regret it. Can I have this dance?”

He held his hand out to you and you hesitated. So many urges filled you. Walk away, run away, slap him, stomp on his foot, crash your lips to his, and even accept his hand. You stood there unsure what to say but when a camera flash caught you from the right you realized the only thing you could do was accept it.

You placed your hand in his and tried to ignore the instant static shock that coursed through you. Sticking your finger in a socket had nothing on this feeling. Lewis led you to the sparsely spotted dance floor then wrapped his arm around you holding you firmly bit gently. He led you in a demure dance that drew the eyes of the remaining attendees. They smiled and raised their glasses to you as if blessing the possibility of this union. If only they knew, you thought.

You danced in silence for a long while as you battled the feelings bubbling within you. You couldn’t afford to fall apart now. The finish line was within sight, and you needed to remain objective.

“Can I say something?”

“What? Y—you just did.”

“Something else then?”

You nodded.

“You—ehm, you look absolutely breathtaking tonight.”

Your eyes locked and just like that, you felt yourself being sucked in. They were simple words that should not have elicited this reaction but that had, nonetheless.

“I’m so proud of the amazing job you managed to do tonight. You never cease to amaze me, but I am always blown away by you.”

You felt the tear roll before you could stop it and that tear led to another. Lewis’ features softened and he pulled you closer wrapping his arms around you. “Angel eyes,” Lewis whispered against your ear.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, seeking refuge, and allowed yourself to cry. The way he held you tightly but so damn gently made you want to climb into his skin and allow him to comfort you until he’d erased every bad thing about the last few weeks. You wanted it so badly that it made you cry harder.

“I’m sorry,” he added voice rough with emotion.

His large, strong hands slipped lower from the middle of your back to the small apex at your tailbone. It was a small action, but it had a major impact. The erratic beat of your heart steadied and the tears that were flowing like a torrential downpour slowed to trickles. When he held you tighter against him so there was not even a microscopic speck of space between you, everything else faded.

A soft sigh fell from you as your body relaxed for the first time in days.

“I’m so sorry angel eyes. It kills me to see you like this, it kills me to know I’m the cause that had I made a different decision this may not have been such a colossal clusterfuck.”

You’d thought that same thing many times. In hindsight, it was easy to put the blame on him. If he had told you or your father from the very beginning maybe things would have been different. Or maybe Aleeza’s tight hold on your father would have made things convoluted and more complicated, maybe it would have made things worse. Maybe you would have lost your father’s trust. There were so many possibles, maybes, mights, and should haves but none of it was certain.

Your logical mind underneath all the rage, pain, and distrust knew this. It’s just when it all comes back, logic disappears and that was what happened. After blotting your tears on his fancy designer suit, you slowly took a few steps back from Lewis. His arms were reluctant to release you, but they did and when you were an arm’s length away, his hands fell to his sides.

Your eyes met and instantly you knew he had so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted you to hear but his lips remained sealed. A message on your phone brought your attention back to the task of the night. Revenge.

“I gotta go.”

With that, you slipped past him allowing your fingertips to graze his as you passed. Still, his touch sent jolts of electricity through you to rival the joules sent through a lightning strike. Forcing any thoughts that weren’t about the plan out of your head, you waved to others as you left then slipped outside. Though it appeared you were alone, you knew there were at least nine pairs of eyes on you and the panic button that was in your purse which tracked your location while recording every sound around you.

You slipped a pair of sunglasses on and then began swaying.

“Ms. Y/L/N? Are you waiting for your car?”

“M—My—car. It shoulda been ‘ere,” you heavily slurred.

“Let me find out for you. Lean against here so you don’t fall,” the attendant said.

“No, no, that won’t be necessary, Ms. Y/L/N, we are here. Right this way,” an unfamiliar voice said.

“Are you her driver?”

“Of course. Come, Ms. Y/L/N, your father has already made it home and wishes to see you.”

The man’s arm wrapped around your shoulder as he began leading you to a legit looking black car. You knew this guy wasn’t your driver and suspected it was that Dom person that Aleeza had been planning with. You allowed him to slip you into the back of the car and you immediately slumped sideways and started singing the first song that came to mind.

Why was it Britney Spears? Maybe because it was the easiest thing to sing off-key or because kidnappers and murderers wouldn’t think someone singing it would be dangerous. You had no idea but since you were running on pure instincts now, you did your best to drunkenly sing “Hit Me Baby One More Time”, you worked the panic button out of your purse and slipped it into your cleavage just in case they took your purse. The man who’d put you in the car got into the passenger side then looked back at you and laughed.

“She is hammered out of her mind. Aleeza really had her number. Are you still heartbroken sweet ‘art? Still missing someone or something between those thighs? Don’t worry I’ll fulfill all your desires in a little while. I’ll fix your loneliness.”

Your stomach churned and fear gripped your heart but again instinct kicked in and you belted the next line as loud and off-key as possible.

“My loneliness is killing me, and I!”

The men in the front laughed.

“Nah, your loneliness isn’t the one that’ll be killing you. Just wait.”

You don’t know how you did it, but you managed to be the best drunken socialite ever and the Daily Mail wasn’t around to see your Oscar-worthy performance. The whole time you tried to keep your mind off where they were taking you and what they planned to do. You focused on the fact that Daniel and his guys were tailing you and Miles had his detective friend on standby to apprehend these assholes.

When the car came to a slow rolling stop, you pretended to be passed out. As you were pulled out of the car you heard the men laughing with each other.

“Easiest job ever.”

“Tell me about it. I almost feel bad for the girl.”

“Your sister really has it out for her huh.”

“My sister is bat shit crazy and doesn’t know how to let shit go, but she is right about one thing with this bitch out the picture more money for her and to split with us.”

These guys were fucking idiots, you thought to yourself as you got all the inside information about what was going on. Worst criminals ever. Who talks about all this with the victim within earshot and alive?

“Come on it's almost midnight let’s have some fun then off her.”

“What a pity.”

You heard the clinking of belt buckles and the rustling of material, and you knew shit was about to go south. You sprang up and looked around.

“Where am I?”

“Detour,” the man you now knew as Dom and Aleeza’s brother said.

You let your head lol forward as if it were too heavy to hold.

“She’s still drunk,” the other man said snickering.

“That’s good, it’ll make this easier for you to accept.”

You saw his pants drop and you panicked, well sort of. Your heart raced wildly but your head was calm. You took in the men and looked to all the points you knew would cause the most pain. Throughout your life, you’ve gone through plenty of training and classes. Dance, piano, flute, gymnastics, media training, etiquette training, and even self-defense.

Your parents thought it was important that you knew basic survival moves in case you were ever the victim of an abduction or home invasion. What started as basic moves turned into detailed mixed martial arts training by the one man your father trusted, Hammond, your personal bodyguard, and trainer. He’d gone deep into your training and because of it, you knew how to take someone down in 6 moves or less.

Thankfully you’d never needed the use any of the in-depth moves on anyone. Kicks to the nuts and flying five fingers to the throat worked all the time. You knew you could take these idiots in under 5 moves. Before either could lay a hand on you, a phone rang.

“Goddamn it,” Dom grunted before he dug the phone out of his pocket. “OF course it’s her. What!”

You strained to hear who was talking on the other end, but nothing came through.

“I was just going to have some fun. Come on Leeza you promised. What’s it so fucking important that she’s dead by midnight? What the fuck is this some fucked up Cinderella reenactment? It’s bullshit. I’ll kill her after we’ve tried her out. A virgin with one fuck under her belt is still practically a virgin.”

He chuckled and his lackey joined in as his beady eyes looked over your body ready to pounce given the ok. You should have pressed the panic button then so Daniel and his men could be there within a minute, but you didn’t. That rage that was silently bubbling within you was no longer silent.

“Fine!”

Dom pushed a button on the phone then shoved it to you. You sat there expectantly waiting for something.

“I bet you’re wondering what is going on right now, huh? Trying to understand who they are and even why I am on the phone now.”

Aleeza giggled as if she’d won the biggest prize in the world. Yeah, laugh now bitch, I’m coming for you, you said in your head.

“Who—who is this? What’s happening?”

“Oh that’s right, you’re drunk off your ass because the man you thought was a diamond turned to be nothing but trash. The man you fell for used you and tossed you out like the trash you are.

She giggled again. “My god, it was such a good show to watch as your heart shattered into pieces on the floor and Lewis didn’t give one flying fuck.”

You were getting tired of her laughs. She sounded like a demented Cruella DeVille.

“A—Aleeza? Is that you?”

“Fucking right it’s me. I told you to enjoy this week. Did you? I hope you did because you won’t be seeing next week.”

“Wa—What are you—what do you mean?”

“For the life of me I don’t know how Jordan put you in charge of anything let alone the board, you’re as dumb as a box of nails. You didn’t see this coming at all, did you? My god, I don’t know why I’m surprised, neither did your whore of a mother.”

Your heartbeat picked up making your ears ring loudly. For a few moments, you couldn’t hear anything but the sound of your own body fighting.

“Hello? Dom, for fucks sake tell me you didn’t kill her.”

“I didn’t touch her. She looks like she’s about to pass out though.”

Again Aleeza cackled. “Your drunk brain won’t be able to put it together but don’t worry I’ll tell you 2 secrets, because you’ll be dead after you hear them and ya know dead whores tell no tales.”

You clenched your jaw and tried to control your breathing.

“I was behind your whole Lewis break up. I blackmailed him into breaking your heart in a precise way that you’d feel that pain for the rest of your life. I was there when he did it too, it was a good show. I told him either break your heart or end his career. Can you really be surprised he chose his career over you?”

She laughed.

“Is she crying? Please tell me the bitch is crying.”

The lackey bent down and looked at your face then smiled.

“She sure is.”

That only made Aleeza laugh louder. She thought you were crying tears of sadness when in fact they were tears of rage. Before, you were going to let the police handle the justice part of your revenge, but the decision was now made that your hands would deliver justice.

“So weak. If that made you cry then my 2nd secret might actually kill you. Get close, Y/N.”

A few tense moments passed in silence before Aleeza spoke again.

“I—killed—your—mother,” she whispered stretching out each word.

Your world came apart then. Your body shook as your head tried to understand. It made no sense. How was that possible?”

“How? You’re lying. My mother died from Cancer.”

“Oh, I know. Did you know that arsenic compounds can cause cancer? Matter of fact it’s classed as a group 1 carcinogen. That means science has proven that it conclusively and all the time causes cancer in humans. When I read that it only took me a few days to come up with a better plan. See I was just going to slip her some arsenic and wham bam she’s dead, but she didn’t deserve a quick death after stealing Jordan from me and living my dream for decades. So me and my big brother Dom committed to the slow game. If you give this compound little by little every day in small enough dosages that won’t harm right away but build up to kill. I was surprised it only took a year for her to actually get cancer. By then I’d run out of patience and upped the amount and well—she was gone 3 months after her diagnosis leaving your father all alone and ready for me. The rest well—is history.”

Your tears of rage were now tears of despair. This crazy bitch was so venomous, so evil that she planned and killed your mother. What the fuck was this? This couldn’t be real life. There was no way normal people went to these lengths to get what they wanted. How? Your breathing hitched and within seconds you were hyperventilating.

“Fuck Aleeza, you might have given her a heart attack.”

She only laughed louder. Your world had just fallen apart, and she was laughing as if it was the world’s funniest comedy series. This woman had single handedly ruined yours, your mothers and your father’s lives. She’d taken your mother from you leaving a chasm within you that would never be filled. Suddenly what you’d had planned for her didn’t seem like nearly enough. The bitch had to die.

“I can’t believe we got away with it. Now it’s your turn. Anyway, don’t worry about your dad, he’ll be following soon, and I’ll take good care of Lewis for you. Very good care. Bye-bye. Dom, get it done, kill the bitch.”

“You got it little sis.”

The phone beeped, ending the call and you sat there in disbelief. In your head your mother’s final day played in your mind. She’d been in so much pain, but she still kept a brave face on never giving anything away. You knew though and watching her say goodbye to you and your father broke all of you. She’d died holding both your hands her final words being, “I wish I had more time, but I love you both.”

Fresh tears filled your eyes, and you wailed feeling a whole new sense of loss. She’d taken everything from you.

“Aww, sad bitches aren’t any fun in bed,” the lackey said.

Dom however didn’t seem to care, he approached you then gripped your shoulders with both hands. As he began pushing you backward trying to make you lie down you snapped. Suddenly your knee raised and connected with his nuts. He shouted out then collapsed on top of you. Shoving him off, you bolted up in time to see the other man running toward you. You lifted your leg and connected the pointed tip of your heels under his chin in the spot where his windpipe began. The man instantly began coughing as he struggled to get air.

You jumped to your feet keeping your eyes on both of them. Dom came at you with a metal pipe swinging wildly wanting to connect with any part of you. Bobbing and weaving, you did just as Hammond taught you all those years ago. When he realized he wasn’t going to accomplish anything, he charged you taking you by surprise. His hands wrapped around your throat and squeezed.

“I was going to make this quick but fuck that. I’ll make it slow and painful. Ever been fucked in your ass gorgeous?!”

His smile was sinister and disgusting. You lifted your knee again and kicked his in his nuts for the 2nd time. Dom dropped to his knees holding his crotch.

“You’re as dumb as your sister.”

You picked up the metal pipe then smiled.

“Have you ever been fucked in your ass gorgeous?”

He looked at you in all seriousness. Before he could get one leg up, you swung the pipe and hit him right in the face. His body dropped and he writhed in pain. From the corner of your eye, you caught the other guy coming at you, but his fist connected with your cheek before you could react. It hurt like a motherfucker, but you didn’t focus on it, instead, you swung the pipe again and whacked him at his knees taking them out and sending him to the ground. You then stomped on his crotch and hit him in the back as he rolled over hoping to protect his equipment from any further attack.

You turned to Dom to give him another hit, but it was then Daniel and the bodyguards he’d assigned came running in. As you watched them overtake Dom and his partner, you saw Lewis swing the hardest punch right to the center of Dom's face breaking his nose and knocking him out completely. A true one-hit quitter. That wasn't enough though, Lewis then kicked him in the gut twice.

"You fucking wanker! You're gonna do what to her? Fuck out of here!" He finished on another kick.

Seeing the blood gushing from Dom's face only made you even more berzerk. You screamed out and turned whacking the shit out of anything that was nearby. Soon you were a raging maniac screaming, crying, and hitting what you could as the emotions ran through you.

Strong arms wrapped around you stopping you from bringing the metal pipe down on or into anything else, then the pipe was gone as Miles yanked it out your hands.

“It’s okay Y/N, I have you. It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Lewis’s voice tried to break through the haze of rage and everything going on in your head, but it was barely making it through. His grip tightened and slowly the ringing in your ears stopped and his voice could be heard.

“It’s okay, I have you. It’s okay, I have you. It’s okay, I have you. It’s okay, I have you. It’s okay, I have you.”

You turned to him and saw sympathy in his eyes. One look around the room told you that they’d heard.

“You—you—you--,” you stuttered.

“We heard.”

Standing beside Daniel you saw Hammond with a solemn look on his face.

“We heard everything, Sparkle,” Hammond said.

The nickname he’d given you when you were a kid broke through everything.

“Hammond.”

You ran to him and crashed your body into his. Hammond hugged you tightly.

“It’s okay Sparkle. We’re gonna take care of this.”

He led you away and you let him because you trust him completely.

Twenty or so minutes later you were sitting outside your house in the limo with Hammond, Daniel, Miles, Andrew, and Lewis. On the ride over, Hammond had filled you in on how he’d cornered Daniel at the event thinking he was planning to do you harm only to be looped into the whole Aleeza mess which led him to take point with Daniel to make sure you were safe. You thought he was still on his vacation with his wife Yulee.

You were staring at the mansion you grew up in with so much going through your mind. Right now, you were sure your father was waiting in his office for Hammond after he made a call telling him there was something important to discuss. The plan was to present him with all the evidence without Aleeza present then call the cops to come in to haul her ass off to join her brother.

As you walked through your house, it felt like you weren’t walking at all. When you looked down you found Lewis’s hand engulfing yours. You looked over at him and found his eyes boring into you.

“I have you.”

His voice was muffled almost distorted as if this was real right now. However, you knew it was because you would never dream this up. This was a nightmare. Hammond led the way into your father’s office and when he saw all of you, he immediately stood.

“What’s going on? Y/N, are you all right?”

He must have seen the forming bruise on your cheek and your split lip. He came over to you cupped your cheeks and examined your injuries.

“Who did this to you?”

His eyes roamed around until they landed on Lewis beside you who was still holding your hand. Your father’s eyes dropped down to take in your clasped hands. The only reaction was a raised eyebrow. You wiggled free from Lewis’ hand then put yours behind your back.

“Hello, Mr. Y/L/N,” Lewis said.

“Hello. What’s going on? Why are you all here this late?”

He looked at Hammond who sighed.

“Old friend, I wish I were here under better circumstances but I’m not. You should sit down for this.”

Your father looked at you and you could see the worry and alarm etched on his face. You took his hand and led him to his chair then stood beside him and let the chips fall. Lewis was the one to lay it all out. You didn’t think you could get through it without turning into a completely different person. As he calmly explained everything beginning with Aleeza’s first approach to him you kept your father’s hand in yours. You watched as Lewis blew up his contract and possibly his own career to tell everything.

Your father shot up to his feet. “You did what to my daughter!”

He lurched forward to Lewis, but you squeezed his hand hoping to reign in his anger and bring his eyes to you. “I’m fine.”

“Fine? Honey--,” He began cupping your cheek with his free hand.

Tears pricked your eyes, but you fought them off. Now was not the time to fall apart.

“I’m all right.”

“This is crazy. Aleeza did this?”

“Yes, and there’s more and it gets crazier,” Miles said.

Lewis placed his phone down on the desk as your father sat back down. Then he pressed play and the recording from his place with Aleeza admitting everything and even propositioning him for sex while blackmailing him with his career played in its entirety. Your father’s hand went limp then.

“Oh my god,” he muttered weakly.

When the recording went silent he looked back at you. “Oh my god, sweetheart I had—I didn’t—oh god.”

He turned back around and dropped his head in his hands.

“Old friend there is more.”

Silence stretched again and they looked at you expecting you to take the lead but you couldn’t. You were so tired. Daniel stepped forward and explained the new information you’d found about Dom and their plan to kidnap then kill you. Your father’s top popped then. His anger was so evident that Hammond had to brace his arm around him to try to calm him down. When Daniel went on to tell him the plan you’d concocted and the precautions he’d taken, you could tell that your father was even more anxious.

Hammond took over to finish the story with how the night ended but placed the voice recording on the desk so your father could hear everything from when you were put in the car to when they’d shown up. In a matter of minutes you watched a man who’d always been your hero, a man who you loved more than anything, a man who’d been your crutch since your mother passed, a man who you saw as a pillar of strength crumble before your very eyes. His legs gave out and he staggered to the set of leather couches on the other side of his office and the minute he sank into the couch he was bawling with the weight of his anguish.

He was no longer this strong indestructible man and father; he was a distraught and broken husband riddled with guilt for the signs he didn’t see and the life he’d led with his wife’s murderer.

“Noooooooooo!”

He began punching the coffee table before him with no thought of injury to himself. You knew this, it was rage. The same rage that was overflowing in you, the same rage that you feared would consume you unless you let it out. However you knew if you did there would be no stopping it. Miles, Andrew, Daniel and Hammond did their best to restrain him so he couldn’t hurt himself any further. Lewis stepped in front of you peering into your eyes.

“I know you’re not okay right now so tell me how I can help.”

You bit your bottom lip which you’d just realized was shaking. After a few moments, your resolve crumpled as did your face. You tried to formulate words, but nothing came out, just a wail. Lewis instantly wrapped his arms around you pulling you into his strong arms. You were content releasing your despair until the office door swung open and you heard her voice.

“Jordy bear,” she sing-songed.”

Once she’d stepped into the office she stopped in her tracks holding a tray with one glass of dark liquid. Her words from earlier filled your head.

“Don’t worry about your dad, he’ll be following soon.”

What was a quiet beast before turned into a thundering monster. You tore yourself from Lewis and locked eyes on your prey like a predator. Once Aleeza’s eyes landed on you, you watched every emotion in the book wash across her face. When it settled on one, “Oh I’m fucked”, you pounced.

“Y/N, don’t,” Lewis shouted.

It was too late though. With speed you’d never had before you crossed the room to Aleeza who let go of the trey and shrieked. She made an attempt to turn and run but she was too slow. You yanked the bitch back by her hair then took out her legs bringing her to the floor right on her face. Keeping her disgusting hair wrapped around your fist, you pulled more while keeping your foot in the center of her back.

It was then you felt several pairs of hands pulling at you trying to get you off of her but you must have possessed the strength of a hundred men because you didn’t budge.

“Let her go!”

“No!”

Aleeza screamed louder as the voices behind you shouted even more for you to let her go. Fuck that you thought. You’d let her go when she’d departed to hell. A hand managed to yank you back so your knee came off her back, but your hand remained gripped in her hair. The force of you going back meant she came along for the ride which made her scream even more.

“Let her go!”

Suddenly all that was in your hand was the hair that was wrapped around it. It took a second or two to realize you’d yanked the bitch’s hair right out of her scalp. The bloody ends only fueled your anger making you see red completely. The hands that were holding you suddenly felt like a hindrance and you fought against them. You sent an elbow into someone’s gut, the back of your fist into someone’s nose, the back of your head into someone’s forehead then your forehead into someone’s forehead.

You then took off where Aleeza was running, a hand grabbed you, but you turned and shoved them before getting back to the scheduled program of beating this bitch into the grave. She screamed wildly as she ran. Seeing she was getting close to the steps you grabbed one of the vases in the hall and threw it at her feet. Aleeza screamed as she came crashing down. Before she could get up you jumped on her and began hitting her over and over and over. You didn’t stop for nothing and no one.

The more she screamed and begged you to stop the harder you hit her.

“Y/N, stop. You’ll kill her,” Lewis shouted as he tried to pull you back.

“Good! Like she killed my mother! Like she tried to kill me!”

Lewis grabbed your hand giving Aleeza a chance to squeeze out from under you. You elbowed him not caring where it landed then lunged for her again. As you wrapped your arms around her neck, you both toppled over the top step and then tumbled down the spiral staircase.

“Y/N!”

You were a bundle of legs and arms as you tumbled over and over. You felt the pain of every collision with the flat surface and blunt edge of the steps, but you didn’t care. Finally, your fall ended, and you lay there dazed and dizzy on the cold marble floor trying to catch your breath. As you breathed you ached but as you breathed it sounded more like a wheeze than a breath. Staring up, you thought you saw your mother’s face hovering above in the painted ceiling—her painted ceiling. You tried to raise your hand to touch her, but you ached too much. Her voice sounded then.

“Don’t allow anyone, man, woman, or child, but especially a man turn you into something or someone you are not!”

She deserves this,” you rasped. “After eve—everything she’s done to you. She killed you. She deserves to die.”

“Don’t allow anyone, man, woman, or child, but especially a man turn you into something or someone you are not!”

You bawled as you battled your wrath and the need for mercy. You didn’t know how to draw the line; you didn’t want to. You wanted her to bleed. You screamed loud and long then suddenly the all-consuming rage you’d felt the last week slowly left you as if it had found an opening to release itself.

Lewis came into view then. His mouth was moving but you heard no words. What you did hear though was a raspy “please.” As if possessed you turned toward the sound, ignoring the pain you felt. There was Aleeza crawling to the front door still trying to escape.

“Fuck—no!”

You flopped onto your belly then slowly inched toward her. It took forever but you managed to crawl over her and flip her onto her back. Her face was bloodied and bruised with both eyes swollen. She looked almost as ugly on the outside as she did inside.

“P—lease.”

“Look at me.”

Her pupils met yours through the tiny slits the swelling would allow and you saw her fear. Good you thought.

“I could kill you if I wanted to and no one here would bat an eye. They would help me dispose of your body and no one would ever think of you again because you are a pathetic, vile, and evil person who deserves to rot in hell for eternity. You spent so much fucking time hating my mother, hating me because you knew she was better than you. You knew that you were nothing but a speck of dirt on her shoe and you couldn’t stand it. She had what you never will, class and the love of so many people. You ruined so many lives. For what!!”

You raised your hand ready to hit her, but your hand was caught. Looking back, you saw your father.

“Don’t. Your mother wouldn’t want this for you. She wouldn’t want you to do this.”

“We’re never going to know what she wanted because she killed her!”

“I know. I know your rage honey, I feel it too, believe me, it is taking everything in me to not do what you’re doing but I won’t allow her to take anything else from us.”

His words were filled with so much pain, so much hate.

“I don’t know if I can daddy.”

“You can. Just take my hand,” Lewis said coming to stand beside your father.

You stared at him then looked at your father then back at Aleeza. Long moments passed with you not making any move until you saw your mother’s painting on the wall. Somehow the painter had managed to capture everything about her; her class, her beauty, her gentleness, her calm, and the pure peace she emulated. That peace washed over you and you knew it was her, it had to have been.

You took Lewis’ hand and allowed him to pull you up to brace yourself against him. As if sensing the fragile peace in the air, the police burst through the door. You watched them grab Aleeza and haul her out. The police there took statements from everyone and confiscated the recordings for their evidence and samples of the brown liquid Aleeza was bringing in for your father.

After an hour, the foyer only had the seven of you. No one knew what to say.

“You need a hospital,” Lewis said to you.

“Please this is nothing. Hammond has put me through worse during training.”

“She’s tough,” Hammond replied with a proud smile.

Lewis nodded slowly but you could tell he was still worried.

“Tell you what I’ll get them both to the hospital for a proper exam,” Hammond compromised.

Lewis nodded with more enthusiasm.

“You gentlemen should be on your way,” your father said.

You looked at Miles, Andrew and Daniel and saw for the first time how banged up they looked.

“Oh my god, are you guys okay?”

They all backed up. “We’re good.”

It hit you then that you’d done this.

“Oh god guys I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re good. We’re going to head out,” Andrew said.

“Thank you guys for—everything.”

You locked eyes with each of them for a few moments and saw they understood just what you meant.

“That’s what fam is for,” Miles said.

You smiled then nodded. As they made their way to the door you noted how slowly Lewis walked.

“Are you okay?”

“He took an elbow to the chest, a headbutt, and a kick to the thigh,” Andrew listed.

Your jaw dropped. While he deserved maybe the headbutt for what he’d done, you felt bad about how you’d beaten him.

“I’m--,” you began.

“Don’t say it. I deserved it. It’s cool.”

“Ehm, speaking of what you deserve. I will see you bright and early in my office come Monday morning,” your father said.

Lewis took a deep breath and nodded. “Understood sir.”

The door closed and your eyes drifted back to your mother’s painting. You felt your father’s arms around you.

“She’d be proud of you. And so disappointed in myself.”

You turned to him. “Dad, you’re a victim in this. How were you to know? She played everyone.”

“I’m afraid to meet her again because I told her I’d protect you and look, I couldn’t.”

“Mom raised me with enough sense and all the tools to protect myself, plus with Hammond’s training, no one stands a chance—unless you’re a staircase. I think I may have broken a rib.”

Hammond laughed. “Let’s get you checked out. Come on,” he said as he got on your right with your father on the left. The two helped you hobble to the door.

“Lewis Hamilton, huh.”

You groaned totally not ready to have this candid conversation with him about your love life.

“He’s a little on the pretty side compared to your tastes. I have to admit I did not see that coming.”

You snorted then groaned as pain washed over you, “Neither did I, dad. Neither did I,” you said as you walked through the door and to the waiting car.

You knew this trip to the hospital was not going to be a quick in and out. You were close to crashing and honestly, you needed the rest. You were tired, your heart was tired—your soul was tired and ready to lay its burdens down.

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

TagList:

@chaneajoyyy @caramara3 @valkryienymph @babyflowa07 @est1887 @halfrican-heat @mauvecherie-writes @nunya7394 @lovebittenbyevans @gardenwonders2 @sweetlikecoffy @dillie60 @ olabelle757 @ophiaedits @kenequa @triton08 @skyesthebomb @shipatheart @keytodespair @xsweetdellzx @labella420 @coldmuffinbanditshoe @ak329 @shar74nett @youremysuperstar @whore-like-behaviour

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#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton fanfic #if this is love you gotta ride for me 4 #if this is love series #black fanfiction

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thegroovywitch · 1 year

Text

Members of Led Zeppelin with music journalist Lisa Robinson.

“To this day, Jimmy complains about bad Led Zeppelin reviews. Here we have one of the greatest rock ’n’ roll bands of the last 50 years with millions of millions of albums sold and he’s still bitching about their reviews from the ’70s.”

— Lisa Robinson, The Washington Post, 2014

#lisa robinson #led zeppelin #jimmy page #robert plant #john bonham #classic rock #70s #rock #by dee dee

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harrisonarchive · 10 months

Photo

George and Olivia Harrison in London on June 26, 1990; photo by Simon Townsley.

“[The rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle can be] seedy... Yes, that’s probably the most difficult of all, because I really relate to these people. I love them, and they’re my friends, and from time to time I’ve really gotten into that — being crazy and boogying… parties and whatever all that involves. I go from being completely spiritual and straight. Then, after awhile, I’ve gone back in with the rockers again. But I’ve got a good sort of tilt mechanism in me.” - George Harrison, 1976 interview, conducted by Lisa Robinson, and quoted in Robinson’s There Goes Gravity: A Life In Rock and Roll (2014)

“George had a sure footing, he always had a sure footing, you know, he always had one foot on the ground even if the rest of him was flailing around. He had what he called a ‘tilt mechanism,’ and so he was never ever really gonna go somewhere he shouldn’t. And he was naughty, and that’s part of the charm.” - Olivia Harrison, radio interview, 2005

“I think for George, he talked about the inner journey and that was very important to him, although he was yin-yang. He could hang with the best of them. [laughs] He was a scoundrel yogi. That’s what I loved about him, because he was honest. He was right up front about it. ‘I’m bad? O.K., I’m bad.’” - Olivia Harrison, The New York Times ArtsBeat, 2011

“[George] never said he was a saint, but he always said he was a sinner.” - Olivia Harrison, Rolling Stone, 2011

“He conducted himself with a great consciousness [laughs], even when he was behaving badly, he would do it with a great awareness.” - Olivia Harrison, Huffington Post, 2014

“He was a witness to his actions. He always said, ‘People think they’ve found me or found something out about me... I know when I’m bad. I know.’ Nobody suffers more than yourself, right — than one’s self when you know you’re not being true. And he tormented himself, you know, I think, a lot. But he was a curious guy, and he just wanted to have all the experiences and hope he could get back in time for the big exit.” - Olivia Harrison, BBC Radio 4, 2020 (x)

#George Harrison #Olivia Harrison #quote #quotes about George #quotes by George #1976 #2011 #2005 #2014 #2020 #George and Olivia #Pisces Fish #George and fame #Harrison spirituality #'scoundrel yogi'#fits queue like a glove

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myveryownfanfiction · 6 months

Text

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery, @alicedoestheinternet, @onedirectionlovers2014

song that inspired this Unhealthy obsession by the Blake Robinson synthetic orchestra

warnings: stalking, swearing, smoking, drinking, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids)

AN: yes Ik he’s a creep. An asshole. The fucking scum of the earth. But kiefer…anyway…I’ve had a thought about this for a while so I’m gonna write it. It’s dark. If you don’t like it, don’t read it. Simple as that. Otherwise here you go and I tried my best.

“wait here. Let me grab your tip.” I said as Robert put the groceries on the table. He rocked back on his heels and shoved his hands in his pockets. I caught him looking out my screen door while he waited.

“nice garden you got there.” He said loudly, trying to fill the silence. “Pumpkins are doing better this year.”

“Yeah. I don’t know what’s being done different but I mean I’m not going to complain.” I laughed as I came back with the money. “Here. And don’t you dare tell me it’s too much Robert.” He frowned at the money in his hand before looking back at me.

“Sometimes I don’t know what I did to deserve a client like you.” Robert said. He smiled at me and turned to leave. “See you next week.” I waved as he got into his truck and drove off. I glanced at the clock and hummed as I put away the groceries.

“two more hours and he’ll be headed home.” I mused to myself. My black cat came up and wove through my legs as I sorted through the different snacks I had ordered. “What do you say doc? Leave early to follow him home or wait for him there?” Doc mewled and headed over to his car tower. “Yeah. Wait for him there sounds like a good idea.” I preoccupied myself for an hour before grabbing my keys and leaving. I pulled up across the street from his apartment and waited. Robert arrived home on time and I watched as he got out of the truck. A bus went by and I lost him. “Dammit!” I hit my wheel and got out of my car. I walked down the street and headed into the ice cream store, failing to see Robert standing on the corner smoking and already eating ice cream. I waited ten minutes before getting in my car and heading home.

the next week I kept tailing Robert and trying to get a better handle on his routine. Every week he’d come and deliver my groceries. I’d tip him a crazy amount, he’d try to give it back and then would leave when I wouldn’t back down. On one trip, I realized that the man I had become infatuated with also had a small…problem…of his own. When the police picked him up at work, I had flattened myself against the wall across the street.

“fuck.” I whispered as I watched the police handcuff him and lead him to a police car. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” There was no way for me to get back to my car without being seen by the police or Robert. “Robert what did you get yourself into.” I whined as I looked up and saw a fire escape. I climbed up onto it and ended up dropping down not far from my car. As I tried to nonchalantly walk to it, I caught roberts eye as they patted him down. My eyes went wide, wondering if I had been caught. He gave me a sad smile as he was forced into the car and I watched as they drove away. Robert looked at me through the back window until they turned the corner. That night, I recorded the news of his arrest. and it seemed like I wasn’t the only one who was going to be doing it if the news of what he did was true. My phone rang and I got up to answer it.

“hello?” I said, twirling the cord around my finger.

“(Y/N)?” I nearly dropped the phone when I heard roberts voice. “You there?”

“yeah. I’m here robert. What the fuck? Why are you calling me? Call a fucking lawyer.” I cried. Robert laughed and I could hear shuffling on his end.

“I uh…I can’t afford a lawyer. Your tips are what’s helping me make rent every month.” He admitted. I sighed and glanced over at the address book sitting on my kitchen table. “I’m not getting bail. I just uh…I actually don’t know why I called you. I guess I just wanted a familiar voice.”

“Robert, im gonna get you a lawyer. Don’t you dare talk to anyone about anything.” I said, grabbing my book and flipping through it.

“(Y/N)…I couldn’t ask you to…” Robert tried. I cut him off.

“you’re not asking. I want to.” I said. Robert sighed and I knew he was in agreement. “Robert…” I started, nerves getting the better of me.

“Yeah?” He asked, voice wavering slightly.

“did you do it?” I asked softly. Robert sighed and I could tell he was nervous.

“you said not to say anything to anyone.” He said instead. I let my head fall against the wall, realizing just what I had gotten myself into stalking this man.

“fuck.” I whispered. “Robert…” he laughed on the other end.

“thank you. For everything.” He said before the line cut. I stood there with my head against the wall and phone pressed against my ear for a little while longer. In my time stalking him, I had never seen him go near that house. I’d never seen him deviate from his routine. So when the fuck had he gone to do this? Sighing, I straightened up and called my lawyer for him.

“For fucks sake (Y/N). You got it bad for this guy if you’re willing to hire him a lawyer.” Stacey laughed. I rolled my eyes.

“you gonna do it or not stace?” I asked. “Doesn’t matter how bad I have it for this man. He needs a lawyer and he can’t afford one. You know he’s dead if he gets a public defender.” Stacey sighed.

“yeah. I know. I’ll take it. But you owe me. Big time.” Stacey said. “Now I know you know this information, for one reason or another. What’s his address…” Stacey started asking questions about Robert and his life. “(Y/N), I know this has no bearing on the case but…” I sighed and nodded even if she couldn’t see me.

“no. I never saw him…I’ve never been to…” I stuttered out. Stacey knew about my tendencies and didn’t judge but that also meant I couldn’t flat out say anything without it being an admission of guilt. “But stacey…I work…he…he delivers to other people and I don’t…I don’t know who they are.”

“it’s ok (Y/N).” Stacey assured me. “Like I said, it has no bearing on the case from my standpoint. None of this is admissible. I just wanted to know…” I sighed. “I’m going to head over to the jail now and talk to the family’s lawyer.”

“thank you Stacey.” I breathed out and hung up. Grabbing my coat, I paused. Where was I going? It wasn’t like I could see him anyway. Putting the coat back, I waited. A few days later, Stacey called me to inform me that the courtroom would be open. Anyone could attend. So I went. I sat in the back so the only person who would realistically see me was Robert or Stacey. I let out a sigh of relief as the case as dismissed but quickly jumped up when Robert walked past the parents of the girl that was killed.

“S-s-sorry.” Robert said, laughing as they pulled him away. The father tackled him and Robert put his hands up to defend himself. I closed my eyes and shook my head. When I opened my eyes, Robert was walking past. “Thanks for everything sweetheart.” He smirked and winked at me as he was led away.

“you ok?” Stacey asked as she walked by. We both watched the parents argue with the police officer and the prosecuting attorney. I nodded.

“I was until he admitted his guilt.” I whispered. Stacey smiled at me.

“inadmissible.” She said. “And now it’s double jeopardy.” I nodded, still watching the parents. “They can’t get him on this one again. He’s going to be ok.” I nodded again.

“I know that.” I said, finally looking at Stacey.

“does it change things?” She asked as we started walking out. I shrugged.

“I’m stalking him.” I muttered, eyes darting around at the security and police officers. “He’s a rapist. And murderer. Fucked up pair we make don’t we?” I laughed humorlessly.

“you two do make a cute pair. And there’s no evidence he is either of those things.” Stacey winked at me. I rolled my eyes.

“I gotta go stace.” I said, hugging her. She gave me a knowing smile and left me to my own devices. I drove home and frowned at the strange car parked in front of my house. Gasping, I caught sight of Robert pissing in my pumpkin patch. He looked around before heading back to his car and driving off. I decided to follow him back to his apartment. Getting out of my car, I hit the hood when I lost him. A hand clapped over my mouth and someone pulled me into the alleyway behind where I parked. “Get off me you prick!” I gasped when the hand was removed. I broke away from the person and turned around to see Robert standing there, shirt tucked into his pocket and wife beater on full display. My eyes roamed over his chest as I gulped. “Oh. It’s just you.” Robert waved at me and smiled.

“just me.” He said. He took a step closer and when I didn’t move away, he closed the distance. “And here I thought that bitch of a mother was tailing me. Imagine my surprise when my next victim turns out to be the one following me all over town.” I frowned as I looked at him.

“your next…” I blinked at him and started laughing. “Oh my god. Robert…I…my plan…originally…” Robert looked at me with a raised eyebrow as I tried to get my laughter under control. “I’ve been stalking you since you started delivering my groceries! I’ve been trying to find a way to get into your apartment and basically tie you up and have my way with you!” Robert chuckled as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

“Well aren’t we two peas in a pod?” He chuckled. “I suppose I have you to thank for that walkie talkie under my bed?” I nodded. “You enjoy the shows sweets?” Blushing, I nodded again.

“guilty as charged.” I shrugged. “I also am why your spare key went missing.” Robert nodded.

“so many things are clicking into place now.” Robert said as he steered us across the street to his building. “Ain’t no backing out now darling.” He said, unlocking the door to his apartment and ushering me in. Once I was through, he pinned me to the door. His arms framed my head and I snaked my arms around his neck.

“who said I wanted to?” I breathed out before pulling him towards me into a kiss. Robert moaned into the kiss and pushed his body against mine. The combined weight made the door groan. I moaned as he moved to bite along my neck and tangled my fingers in his hair. Robert growled and pushed his groin against mine, the door creaking behind me again. “Robert…the door…gonna…give.” I breathed out. Robert grabbed my legs and forced them around his waist, picking me up and carrying me effortlessly towards his bed. “Oh fuck.” I moaned as he bit the flesh between my neck and shoulder.

“you’re allowed to be loud.” He whispered in my ear. “Fuck the neighbors and fuck me if it isn’t hot if you struggle.” I tugged on his hair and smiled at the moan that left his lips.

“maybe next time baby. But right now…” Robert tossed me on the bed and I immediately grabbed for his belt buckle. “Fuck me.” He growled and pinned me down to the bed. I continued to work on the belt and his pants as he rid me of my shirt. We got tangled up a bit before robert pinned my arms to the bed. He growled at me and I gazed up at him, letting him undress me. “God you’re perfect.” When I was stripped, I reached for his wife beater and pulled it off.

“fuck me.” I moaned as I looked him over. Robert kicked off his pants and smiled wickedly down at me.

“I plan to.” He teased as he laid down on top of me, hiking my legs up around his waist. I wrapped my arms around his neck, biting my lip as I waited for Robert to do something. “There’s only one version of me you get like this. If that isn’t…” I leaned up to kiss him, shutting him up. Robert stared at me as I laid back. “Alright then.” Robert snapped his hips against mine and entered me. I cried out as he started to thrust into me.

“fuck.” I breathed out. “You weren’t kidding.” Robert buried his head in my shoulder and bit me. Reaching up, he pulled my arms off him and pinned them to the bed with one hand. I whimpered as he sat back.

“pretty little thing. Look good below me. Where you belong.” He panted as he took me in. “Bouncing on my cock. Good little thing.” My eyes closed and I let my head fall back as Robert continued to pound into me. “Look better with my hand around your throat. Would look real good with your mouth around my dick.” My head snapped up as Robert wrapped his free hand around my throat and squeezed. “Look real good.” Robert smiled down at me and I gasped as his grip tightened.

“Robert.” I moaned. “Please.” Sweat dripped down his face and his eyes had taken on a wild look, driving me closer and closer to the edge. “Please Robert.”

“that’s right. Beg. Beg me.” He leaned in close, tightening his grip on my throat until it was hard to breathe. He let up a little when I took a short breath that turned into a gasp. “Only I can give you what you want. What you need.” Robert leaned down and kissed me roughly. I whimpered as he tightened his grip on my wrists, making me struggle in his grip slightly. The need to touch him was growing the longer he dragged out his thrusts.

“Robert. Oh god please. Robert. I need it.” I begged. Robert smiled at me and trailed his nose along my jaw. “Please. I need you to give it to me. Only you…” I screamed as Robert hiked my leg up his waist further. “Only you can give it to me. Please. Robert, give it to me.” He bit my ear and sucked a hickey on my neck as I started to buck in his hold. Robert chuckled darkly and kissed me again. I released slightly as he snapped his hips against mine.

“then take it.” He growled, biting my bottom lip. “Take it you whore.” I screamed as my orgasm crashed over me. Robert groaned but kept fucking me through it. Even though I was becoming overstimulated, I kept bucking against him. “Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!” Robert yelled as he came. He laid on top of me as we panted, trying to get our breath back. I nuzzled into Robert’s neck as he released my hands. “So that’s what it’s like. Not killing someone to get off.” I hummed as I ran my fingers through his sweat soaked hair.

“that’s what it’s like to have what you’ve wanted for a long time.” I countered. Robert pulled back to look at me.

“I’d ask if you’re alright but…” I smiled at him and ran my hand down to his chest. Tangling my fingers through his chest hair, I bit my lip. Robert watched me as I gently scratched him. “I think you’re as fucked up as I am.”

“I think you’re right.” I responded. “You got a problem with that?” Robert shook his head as he leaned down to kiss me.

“I won’t stop if you won’t.” He smirked at me. Using my position with my legs around his waist, I managed to take him by surprise and flip us over. Robert gazed up at me as he put his hands on my hips. “Maybe next time.” His eyes roamed over me as he tugged me down to lay on top of him. “Maybe next time.”

#kiefer sutherland #kiefer sutherland imagine #kiefer sutherland fanfiction #kiefer sutherland fanfic #robert doob #Robert doob x reader #Robert doob fanfic #Robert doob fanfiction #Robert doob imagine #Kiefer Sutherland x reader

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pennyserenade · 7 months

Text

heaven holds a place for those who break.

chapter three - fade into you | ao3 link

pairing: javier peña x female oc, javier peña x named female oc (mariella) rating: m (mature) tags/warnings: talk of sex, language, self-depreciation, talk of depression word count: 4.4k summary: javier & mariella paint her classroom. some of their old habits die hard in familiar places. a/n: i love chaotic characters & i hope you do too. the title comes from the fact that i misheard the lyric ‘heaven holds a place for those who pray’ in the song mrs. robinson by simon & garfunkel. i liked it

A red hibiscus plant sits, shrouded in the soft morning sunlight on the Sanchez porch. Junie Sanchez, who has been growing the plant in earnest since the end of March, sways serenely in the decades old rocking chair her husband Eduardo had gifted her for their fiftieth anniversary. She watches it like an attentive mother, as if this final chapter of her life is meant to be bookended by its presence.

Mornings like this since her Eduardo died make Junie feel in a state of fullness, something that his death has taken from her. The air and the wind and the sun, and this little plant that she put in the dirt as a seed and watered until it was something , appear to be pieces of thread tying together her dying heart.

At the age of eighty, Junie has no real conception of how many tomorrows there will be, and she lives with an attentiveness to that small detail. She makes two cups of coffee every day, one the way her late husband loved it, and one the way she prefers, and then she comes out to this creaking porch with them both. Here, in this home, in this town, Junie works not to just endure, but to live even without her other half. He had asked this much of her.

She is not crazy enough to think this plant is Eduardo, but romantic enough to want to. His cup of coffee sits, black as the night on the opposite rocking chair, its steam wafting pensively. Junie imagines the comforting sway of his chair lulling her in, sees how he’d be sitting there, watching her watching the plant, waiting for his turn. Yesterday the chapel was half-full, the soft murmurs of gossip as sticky as the heat. Eduardo, God bless him, was a beautiful chismoso. The brim of his hat would always tip when his laughter bubbled out over his words as he told her what he had heard; this was his favorite pastime.

“Tawes’ daughter, Mariella…” he would begin, softly pushing out the words with the preciseness of an expert gossiper. She would roll her eyes, focus in on whatever it was that she was looking at it before, but this would not dissuade her husband. He would push forth, especially about this . How he loved James Tawes, that white man with a handful of Spanish phrases and so much ardor behind his black eyes. The Irish, they had once joked together, are a little like Mexicans with that passion. “I hope she knows about Javier Peña, you know?”

Junie Sanchez inhabits the hobbies of her late husband with ease this morning, piecing together their conversation with tenderness. “I’m sure she does,” she would respond, an active listener if not a willing participant.

“He is a good boy, Junie, pero…”

“They say he went to Colombia, got smart. Did a good thing for this country with Pablo Escobar. I think you’re being too hard on him.”

His hum of understanding, followed by the thought he’d been itching to say since he started: “But you know about Mariella. Her divorce, the way she came here to sort it out and never left. And they say more than just about Pablo Escobar when the subject of Javier and Colombia come up, too. Where’s his wife, Junie? He’s too old not to have a wife.”

“Kids are different now, these days. They don’t do that the way we did. Maybe he was like Mariella, got married and then didn’t.”

“And you think Chucho wouldn’t say that? He loves Javier.”

“But he knows not everyone in the town has always been in the kid’s corner.”

“Because he was a troublemaker, Junie. You know that. And Mariella is such a nice girl.”

Junie would smile there, remembering how nice of a girl she had been – and equally how much Eduardo liked to make her do things nice girls supposedly wouldn’t. “I think they will be good for one another, Lalo. Some girls need a bit of trouble before they get to the good stuff.”

“You mean marriage? She won’t be able to marry in the church. Especially not with him.”

“No, Lalo,” she’d agreed, and that would be that. They’d both drink their coffees, watching this plant of hers, loving each other deeply and quietly, the way they had for decades.

Junie misses him more than she has the words to express, in either Spanish or English. For Mariella and Javier, she hopes for an enduring memory of the best of whatever it is everyone seems to be saying they’re doing.

“It is so important to live, to remember, to love,” she would’ve told her Lalo after that long silence. The way she always did, about these people, about these things. Then she’d finish it off with her sage advice: “Let them be young.”

The wind brushes against her red hibiscus and it moves accordingly with it. She smiles as she takes a sip of her coffee.

He always did agree with her in the end.

—-

The causality of real life stuns Javier. Hell, maybe it even terrifies him. Mariella greets her co-workers with a mouthful of early morning glee, holds her paintbrush with steady, focused hands, and can hold a good, mundane conversation. In this school of hers, she is as a real as anything could ever be, and he is in awe of her. If Laredo is the stage of life, and he and she are actors in its play, he’s got no doubt in his mind that she’s doing so much better than him at it. For all the practice he’s had, it does him no good. He half envies her ability to merely exist so well.

He’s mounted a ladder for her, and occupies himself with a paintbrush and the tricky corners close to the ceiling. She works at the bottom of the room, detailing around the haphazardly covered light switches and trim. The conversation they make has been switching been serious and causal.

This reminds him of stakeouts, being tucked away in a jeep, or a trench, or the vast greenery of a Colombian forest with another person. Just waiting. Just talking. It’s all there was to ever do on most them: talk. The midday summer air breezes through the opened windows, and the box fans brrr on in the background. He thinks of the things that make him interesting and figures what the hell. She is like a partner. He tells her what everyone wants to hear.

“When I first got to Colombia, they handed me a key to this apartment in Bogotá. I never had to do anything like this. It was all furnished and painted. I miss it sometimes. It was big, had a nice view.” The cream white paint coats the side of his hand as he leans too close to the wall. Instead of hissing an obscenity, he wipes it on his shirt. The blue flannel has been lost to the tragedy of his unsteady fingers, and he uses it like a napkin knowingly.

Down at the bottom, Mariella hums in interest. Maybe she ought to be hungry for this information, latching on to every word that comes after Colombia. The blue painter’s tape is splattered with her mistakes because her mind is up there with Javier. It’s not that she’s not paying attention. It’s just that his time in Colombia pales comparison to his time in here, up on the ladder, telling her about Colombia.

They’ve been at this for two hours, a third of the large room painted a fresh cream white, with the other, smaller section still the old, pale gray. Mariella tries not to analyze people—likes to take them as they are—but with Javier it’s hard not to wonder. His reputation had preceded him, and he’s brooded around as the town mystic for months, tight lipped and humble, if not polite, about what he’s been doing elsewhere. She listens because he sounds like he needs someone to.

Her answers aren’t meant to pry more out of him, but to acknowledge him, showing that she’s listening. “I had an apartment like that once, back in college,” she tells him, going to her knees. The overalls she’s wearing are fit for an art teacher, pre stained and torn at the knees, but she’s keeping them miraculously clean today. She scoots her paint pan over. She continues her story as she re-coats her brush. “I shared it with a boyfriend. It was the first time I had lived by myself like that, away from home.”

“I got my first apartment here. I don’t think the buildings exist anymore. If they do, they shouldn’t because it was a shit—“ Javier halts. The elementary school is void of children, yet the atmosphere seems to warrant his best behavior. “It was rundown. Ugly. But it only cost a hundred dollars a month, and it had two bedrooms. Though it could’ve costed a thousand and I would’ve taken it. It felt like freedom.”

“Mine too,” Mariella agrees. “I lived on campus for awhile, which was okay but I liked the apartment more.”

Javier looks over his shoulder at her. “What school?”

“University of Pudget Sound.”

“Where’s that?”

“Washington.”

“And you liked it?”

Mariella nods. “Sure. It was pretty and the teachers were great. We lived in Tacoma, before Laredo, so I got to go to visit my grandparents sometimes when I was feeling homesick. I really loved that.”

“I never did feel homesick,” Javier says quietly. The admission feels like a betrayal to Chucho, and he doesn’t know why he’s said it, but he feels like he’s meaning to say for a long time. He rests an arm on one of the rings and inspects his work through squinted eyes. “I went to college for awhile, too but then I came back. Then I left again.”

“I stopped feeling homesick, after a bit,” she admits. “I ended up staying in Washington for a long time. A really long time, truthfully, longer than I intended. I worked at this little private school in Tacoma as a kindergarten teacher. Had a house and everything.”

“What happened?” he asks.

Her features soften. “Oh, life,” she evades.

“I know a thing or two about that,” he responds, letting her off. He begins his climb down the ladder, holding onto the black pan with one hand and the steps with another. “I think it looks alright, don’t you?”

Mariella turns around. She grins, giving him a thumb’s up. The action is so teacher-like he can’t help but chuff out a laugh. “What?” she asks, smiling quizzically.

“Nothing. You’re just good at your job,” he tells her, shaking his head. Down on the ground again, he puts the pan on one of clusters of desks. His itch for a cigarette returns with a vengeance and he knows it must be close to lunch by the way his stomach growls. “You think you’ve got it in you to take a lunch break?” Instinctively he pats his pockets for the missing cigarette pack and frowns when he can’t find them.

With the back of her hand, she moves a fallen strand of hair. Her black bandana is doing a poor job of keeping it all in and she’s been doing this all morning, the evidence of which can be found in the strip of paint gathered above her brow. Javier smiles but says nothing. “I didn’t realize it was so late already. My God. Of course. By no means let me keep you,” she tells him. She pats her hands on the legs of her overalls, rising.

Javier stalls. “Do you want to come with? It’ll be on me this time.”

“Why don’t you come to mine, actually? It’s just down the road from here and I’ve already made it. It’s just a sandwich, so if you’re not feeling that I get it, but it’d be nice.”

He shakes his head. “I couldn’t. You already paid for my lunch once.”

She clicks her tongue. “Please, Javi. You’ve painted my classroom! That’s worth two lunches at least.”

He gives serious thought to it. Friends go to their friend’s house. Plus they’re both paint-coated and slick with a sheen of sweat.

“It might cause rumors,” he teases, though his tone borders on apprehension more than anything.

“I’m thirty-four, which is full grown last I checked. I’m sure my neighbors won’t mind if I feed a man lunch.”

He watches as she covers up the paint with the edge of the cloth tarp. She’s right, he knows. If they’re going to be friends, they’re going to get here eventually.

“Sure,” he concedes, smiling softly.

“Perfect,” she smiles, “It was my turn to drive anyway.”

—-

Unlike his once bachelor apartment and Chucho’s house, Mariella’s place is this side of quaint, white picket fence included. The interior, while less antiquated, promises home without the homely; beige cloth couch, red patterned chairs, wooden coffee table with carefully selected magazines spread against the front. There’s a hodgepodge of colors that never clash, immaculately cleaned surfaces, and a fresh but positively manufactured scent. Warm, vanilla-like, covering any life that might wish to will itself inside.

He hadn’t imagined her place before but if he had he’s not sure he’d think of something so…pristine. It had been hard enough to keep his own place clean by himself, and his color palette had been more on the brown side. Even her carpets are a lighter hue.

When he had first walked in he had half expected to be paraded with rules: coat here, shoes there. But all she did was tell him where he might put any of those if he liked, and informed him that the bathroom was down the hall, to the right if he needed it.

Even her fucking hand towels are too clean. He splashes as much water as he can into the bowl and wipes the rest on his jeans. “Nice house,” he calls to her, turning off the light. This he means, however intimidated he is by it. He finds her in the kitchen, making two plates. “You ever considered getting it pictured?”

She smiles, amused. “I clean when I’m bored and I’m bored a lot,” she confesses. “Want a coke? A beer?”

“Coke,” he replies. He pulls out one of the wooden stools in front of island and passes him a plate with a sandwich and chips. While she’s getting him the coke, he licks his lips and considers her. Considers all of this. It’s been so long since he’s been truly friendly with someone and he knows it should be easy, but it isn’t. It’s hard to know how much to say and when to say it. Hard to know what’s right and what’s wrong here when, for so long, his life had been a whirlwind of rights and wrongs that were life and death. Everything seems so futile.

He’s been to the doctor and they think he’s depressed. If he and Chucho talked, Chucho would agree. He’s not one of those obstinate, hardheaded old men who don’t believe in that sort of thing. No, that’s a spot reserved for Javier himself. He’s just having a hard time. A long, tiring hard time.

He’s trying, and that’s got to count for something, doesn’t it?

“How long have you lived here?” He takes a stab at conversation. Mariella places the soda in front of him and then sits opposite of him, on the other side of the island. A healthy, decent divide. He’s not sure how long it’s been since a woman invited him in and there’d been this much space between them.

“About four years. I used to live with my parents, too,” she tells him. “It’s not so bad here, doing that. I like this town because of it. Lots of people think I’m strange for living on my own now, but I needed it. I love my father and Tamara but being on my own — it’s important to me.”

“I’ve thought about getting something of my own too, but I don’t know if I want it to be here or not. Pop is getting up there in age and I know I probably should just accept that I’m going to be here, but I don’t know.” He shrugs. He picks at the sandwich, doesn’t dare look up. “It’s interesting, being here like this now. After all of that.”

Mariella doesn’t ask him to explain. Her own memory fills in the gaps. Six years ago she had come back to Laredo a different person, defeated and world-weary, more her thirty-four years of age than the twenty-eight she’d been then. Something about life and expectation tearing you down forms in her head, but she doesn’t say any of it. Sitting across from her, his intense features looked softened enough by the blow of memory.

They fall into silence as they eat, her watching outside the window into the backyard, and him glancing around inconspicuously. His detective eyes catch onto things another might not: the lack of familial pictures on the wall, the ABC magnets strewn against the white fridge, spelling out ‘LATE.’ Her notepad by the telephone, scribbled with reminders and phone numbers. In another life, he was meant to be a psychologist. The act of breaking another person apart like this has fascinated him since he was young. He wonders what kind of life she leads, in the clinical, unromantic way psychology warrants. If he was a better friend, he might just ask.

“Thank you for lunch,” he tells her, “You didn’t have to do that but it was good.”

She looks back at him, her dark brown eyes warm. “Of course,” she replies, smiling. She gathers her half eaten sandwich and the peppering of chips she’s left, and puts it beside the sink. He can’t imagine she’s going to leave it there, not the way her home looks, feels, smells like. Things don’t get left out here.

Or do they? Had she cleaned it this intensely for his benefit? Did she expect to invite him over? Probably not, but maybe. And maybe is enough.

He hands her his empty plate with a half grin. Her smile picks up again. They look at each other for a long second before she grows self conscious under his searching gaze. He struggles to read what it is she expects from him, if anything at all. Maybe just friends means something vastly different in her vocabulary than it does his own.

“Mariella,” he says quietly, leaning against her tiled countertop. She raises her head, looking back in his direction with a soft furrow between her brows. The paint strip is still on her bare face. “At the risk of sounding a bit of an asshole, can I ask you something?”

She laughs awkwardly. “That’s never a good way to start anything,” she jokes, “But sure.”

Javier stares at her, letting the thought digest before it becomes a conversation. He chews the inside of his cheek. Just friends. A mantra that repeats in cycles. He’s been doing such a good job. No cigarettes in a week, no sex for months. “I better not.” He decides against it.

She wipes her hand off on a stray dish towel. “I doubt I’ll think you’re an asshole,” she tells him softly. “Go ahead, shoot.”

The wrinkles between his eyes grow more prominent as he considers the weight of this question in his mind. He likes Mariella, feels strangely at ease in her company, and this might ruin all of that. She could tell her dad. Her dad could tell Chucho. In Laredo, the entire landscape of his life is intertwined. Maybe he does this as a form of rebellion, just because he can. As surely as Mariella allowed him into her home, he wants to ask her this.

He takes a deep breath. “I’m probably being presumptuous and maybe even a bit forward in asking you this, and I know that. You haven’t really done much to give me this impression, so I don’t want you to feel like you have,” he assures, looking at her directly, “But do you…Is friends all you want to be, or maybe is this something more? Maybe not..not anything serious but something?”

The question makes her cheeks tint and she averts her eyes. Looking down at the dishes, she begins to fiddle with the handles on the sink. The water interrupts the stream of awkwardness, but not enough to will it away.

“Sorry,” he apologizes quickly, wincing at his own foolish behavior. “I—I don’t know why I said that. I’m not good at this. I never have been.”

She rinses his dish with a narrowed focus, the yellow sponge absorbing his words. After a stretch of time that seems an eternity she responds. “I can’t begin to tell you the things I want, Javier. Even if I knew.” She lifts her eyes. He finds an honest vulnerability that discomforts him. A terrible ache that exists in him, too, but that he hadn’t expected from her. It’s his turn to move away from it, casting his eyes to the window.

“I know the feeling,” he mutters.

He looks at her, sidelong and soft, and she nods, full of quiet understanding. She reaches over and grabs her plate, brushing against him with her shoulder. Everything moves a little slower, more intense and hushed, like a disaster is on the horizon.

The precision with which they had built division between them crashes and burns against her chestnut cabinets, an inevitable death. The cool feel of the tile beneath his hands as he pins her between his body and the sink is not sobering, not in the least. It’s comforting, pleasant. She gasps when he kisses her the first time, and its more gentle than he’s used to, half afraid that he might do something as stupid as break her heart. She’s a good girl , a cruel voice calls to him from the back of his mind.

A good girl who doesn’t know what she wants and couldn’t tell him if she did. Self punishment always felt best served up as a warm body, in some dark shadow in a decrepit corner of Colombia. But this is Laredo, and his Daddy knows her Daddy. As his fingers undo the buckles of her overalls, she looks at him with wide, earnest eyes. Glossy lipped and wild with desire, shrouded in warm daylight. He can almost imagine her at twenty-one, young and urgent and maybe in love with the man she had talked about moving in with. No dark corners here. The tile is spotless. Everything is spotless He kisses her harder the second time and she lets him. He knows he shouldn’t. He’s already so hard he aches.

“Turn around,” he whispers gruffly against the shell of her ear. He kisses her again and she obeys. The denim falls down to her waist and he assists her in undoing the buttons there while she lifts her shirt. She looks into the yard, feeling his calloused fingertips at her hips, and his warm breath against her back. Her knuckles are white, clenching the counter, anxious. Not of him. Not of this. Not really. Just the idea of it. The last man she had sex with was Henry, and before that, another teacher she had worked with in Washington. Her whole sexual history can be accounted for on two hands and all the men she has known far better and far longer than this one. She doesn’t have condoms.

She doesn’t have condoms.

“I don’t…” she breathes out, closing her eyes. “There’s no condoms.”

He wants to say it doesn’t matter, that he doesn’t need to cum, to be in her. That he’s fine with getting on his knees like he intended, spreading her and pressing his tongue to her slit. Doing his very best giving. But there’s a hollowness in her tone that wards him off, and a waver that speaks of uncertainty. He rubs his hand affectionately against her side and gathers her overalls up for her..

“M’sorry.” She hangs her head, readjusting, and he frowns.

“No,” he says, quietly. “Don’t be. It doesn’t matter at all. I shouldn’t have done that. You said you wanted to be friends.”

She shrugs her shoulders, dutifully re-clipping her overalls. “It’s not your fault, either.”

“I can be a friend,” he finds himself saying, like a solemn promise. The thought of this becoming nothing seems to scare him more than he thought it would. He’s been so alone. Speaking to her, doing things with her, has felt liberating, like he’s a person again. “I wasn’t…Before that moment, I didn’t think about doing anything like that. It was just..I don’t know. I started thinking and that always leads me to places I shouldn’t be.” He smiles, but it’s humorless.

She turns around, offering him a wane smile. “It’s okay, Javi. It has nothing to do with what you did or didn’t do. I’m just a bit confused right now. That’s all. It’s me. I do things like this, confuse everyone.”

Her arms wrap around her and he feels pathetic, like he’s done something terribly wrong.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asks.

“I drove you here.” This earns him a more genuine grin. A small bit of laughter, too. “It’s okay,” she reassures, the red in her cheeks dimming. He smiles, too, though it’s more of a grimace. As she reaches out to him, patting him on the arm, she says, “Let’s go paint the rest of the classroom. Rumors might start if someone walks in to see that paint job.”

Javier steps aside and she goes to get her things. There’s a panic in his chest, like there always is after he’s made a decision this stupid. It’s been so long. A whole summer of feeling nothing . He remembers why he doesn’t talk to anyone; he can’t. He fucks it up. He fucks everything up, even when he does them with the best intentions.

“Is it alright if we stop by the store?” he calls out. “I need cigarettes.”

She peeks her head around the corner, slinging her purse over her arm. “Of course,” she says. He can’t help but think about how distant she looks. His analytical mind, which had come to a grinding halt when he needed it most, works overtime now.

Yeah, he needs a fucking cigarette. Needs it like he needs a miserable bullet in his skill: urgently.

#javier peña #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x reader #javier peña x ofc #javier peña x female oc #narcos #narcos fanfiction #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena #javier peña fanfic #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction

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averagewriter-inthedark · 1 year

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Love Rises From The Ashes 🔥 | Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace Imagine

Takes place after the events of TGM

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Lt. Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace x male rockstar!reader (romantic), Lt. Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x reader (past romance), dagger squad x reader (platonic)

Content Warnings: fluff, profanity, light angst, mentioned of implied suggestive content| Male!reader (he/him) | wc: 7.1k

Premise: High school sweethearts don’t always get a second chance at love. Natasha Trace and Y/n L/n surely didn’t think they would. With Natasha becoming one of the best fighter pilots the Navy has ever produced and Y/n sealing his name as rock music’s resident bad boy, the two couldn’t be on opposite sides of the spectrum. But fate seems to work in mysterious ways.

requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Note: to the anon who requested this I hope you enjoyed it! So sorry it took awhile, I had to deal with dropping a class and things came up so I hope I delivered with everything you imagined. Thank you so much for your patience ! I had so much fun writing this and loved every second! ♥️

Songs headcanon for rockstar!reader: “Giving Up the Gun” by Vampire Weekend, “Where I Come From,” by Passion Pit, “The Antidote,” by St. Vincent, “No Control,” & “Girl Almighty” by One Direction, “These Streets,” by Bastille, “Beggin’” By Måneskin.

February 2023

“Hello I’m Ryan Secrest and we are live from the red carpet at Crypto.com Arena at the 65th Annual Grammy Awards! It’s the biggest night in music with all the stars here tonight—Harry Styles, Taylor Swift, Lizzo, Bad Bunny and Beyonce have been spotted. Hip-Hop celebrates 50 years with a stellar lineup in tonight’s tribute as well as honors to music legends Smokey Robinson and Berry Gordy. Everyone’s buzzing about the upcoming performance—Bad Bunny is rumored to be opening the show and rock n roll bad boy Y/n L/n will be sharing the stage with icons The Red Hot Chili Peppers. Stay tuned or tap into our livestream happening on YouTube as we greet music's biggest stars as they walk the red carpet.”

Fixing the collar of his neon green Versace suit, Y/n smiles when he feels Natasha take his hand as the limo approaches the entrance of the carpet. Dressed in a stunning black gown with neon green poking through the sides and the iconic Versace paperclips attaching them together, Nat was a goddess. Her makeup was similar to his, light with black eyeliner to accentuate her eyes with neon green graphic detailing to make it pop. Only Nat’s was clean and sharp whereas Y/n’s was smudged. A glossy nude painted her lips.

“How are you feeling?” She asked softly, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb. “Nervous?” It didn’t surprise him that Nat could tell what he was feeling. They’d known each other for so long it was easy to pick up on cues from one another.

“You would think I’d be used to this by now,” Y/n chuckled, flipping his hand so his palm encased hers. “After so many years….but still the carpet part has me sweating.” Briefly thinking back to one of his first red carpets, Y/n internally cringed as the image of him not knowing what the hell to do and talking to so many reporters in a short amount of time. Nowadays he’s had no filter and will say whatever shit comes to mind. The media loves it obviously…except when it’s directed at them.

For the rockstar, he only liked showing up to award shows for the show itself. He looked forward to sitting in the chairs with fellow musicians, watching performances, and the thrill of excitement when he won whatever he was nominated for.

Personally he could do without the red carpet. But unfortunately it came with the event. It was the fucking Grammy’s after all.

Nat patted his hand, pulling him from the memory, “You’re a pro at this, babe. Patty and I will be there every step.” Patty was his publicist, who really made it easier for him on carpets by telling the interviewer to keep it fast and quick. “And if you feel overwhelmed or want to get out of there quickly just squeeze my hand and we’ll book it.” The offer makes Y/n laugh, kissing Nat’s hand as he brings it to his lips.

“What would I do without you, Natasha Trace?”

“I like to not think about that,” she teases with a smirk, “But you’d probably try to find a backdoor to sneak into the stadium.”

“Yeah…I definitely would.”

As the limo came to a stop, Y/n mentally prepared himself to face the dozens of cameras, screaming fans, and vulture reporters. He wondered where the guys were going to be seated. Knowing Rooster they probably got the floor beside the stage reserved for fans or front rows of the stands on the side. Either way, he was gonna search them out once they got inside.

Cheers met Y/n’s ears, ringing as he gave a brief wave when stepping out of the vehicle. Turning he held out his hand to assist Natasha, her diamond engagement ring sparkling under the daylight. The cheers seemed to increase at the sight of her, the woman blushing while Y/n smoothed out the fabric of her dress. With a kiss to her cheek, he took her hand and led her onto the carpet, both waving to the many supporters calling out to them.

“Y/n, I love you!!!”

“You look gorgeous, Natasha!! You guys are so hot!!”

“Good luck tonight—it’s your year!!”

Then you had the photographers shouting over them.

“Y/n, Natasha, over here!!”

“Can we get a glimpse of that ring, Natasha?”

“When’s the wedding—are you two having it in San Diego or New York?”

“Over here, Y/n, over here!”

“Y/n, are you excited to perform with the Red Hot Chili Peppers tonight?”

“Yes I am,” he replied over the noise, making the guy give a smile of victory he got acknowledged. “It’s gonna be epic, I can tell you that.”

Soon it came time for the interviews. And God was there a lot. E! Network, Access Hollywood, MTV, ABC, EXTRA, Hollywood Reporter, Entertainment Tonight, & The Insider….and those were just the major ones. Smaller networks were present as well, but thankfully Y/n’s publicist only scheduled him for the big ones.

“Y/n, Natasha, lovely to see you two here tonight,” the lady from Entertainment Tonight greeted them with a smile, “you two look stunning—who are you wearing?”

“These are custom pieces from Donatella Versace herself,” smoothing a hand down his chest, Y/n gave Natasha a twirl to show off her gown. “It’s the Grammy’s so you know we had to roll in nothing but the best.”

“As you should—we love to see it. Let me be the one of many congratulations on your recent engagement,” the couple grinned, thanking her while the camera panned to Nat’s ring. “You two have been together for four years, correct?”

“Going on four this year. But if you count when we were teenagers then about seven,” Winking, Y/n sees Nat blush once more, the reporter lovin the juicy details.

“That’s right, you two were high school sweethearts. How was it when you guys rekindled, did it feel like it was back then or sorta fresh?”

Natasha answered this time, “A mix of both really. We had been good friends as kids that blossomed into young love before fate took us separate ways. When we reunited it was almost like meeting a different person while also feeling the sense of familiarity within them. If that makes sense,” she laughs at the end.

“I agree, but then again I know not to disagree with this one,” Y/n teases, tickling Nat’s side to make her giggle. The reporter and cameras were eating it up. Y/n brings his fiancée closer to him, “We gotta thank our buddy, aka my old flame turned bestie, Rooster, who brought us back together. That’s not his actual name by the way,” the rockstar laughs at the perplexed expression of the reporter, “He is not named after a male chicken.”

“Old flame?” She hums curiously, “by that do you mean your ex?”

Y/n feels his publicist tap him on the shoulder, signaling it was time to go to the next interviewer. Squeezing Nat’s hand, he smirks to the camera, “He prefers to be called, ‘long-term booty call,’.” With that he spun on his heel to escort Nat away, chuckling at the lady’s jaw dropping at the answer. Beside him, Nat playfully tsks, “Bradshaw’s never gonna forget that.”

“Oh he loves it.”

If you asked the 36 year old rockstar that his once fling with a hot asipiring Naval aviator would lead him to his teenage love, Y/n would’ve told you, “This ain’t a fucking romance story. But I love the optimism.”

Traveling back in time while he goes through the many reporters and photographers, Y/n could still picture the once young 15-year old smitten with the girl next door who was his best friend. What was supposed to be a pact between the two of each other’s first kiss, turned into something more than was once a fantasy to them. Both harboring crushes without saying anything until the feelings after the kiss became too much and they were spilling the confessions at the same time.

“I like you—.”

“Wait—what?”

“You serious right now?” Cue a passionate kiss seconds later. The two over the moon in what could only be described as a teenage dream happening before their eyes. Endless nights of sneaking out without their parents knowing to cuddle and skateboard down the quiet streets, exchanging kisses while the stars danced above them. Stares from their peers in school were envious on both ends. Girls jealous that Nat was with the resident bad boy they all desired to have while guys couldn’t believe Y/n pulled the girl of their dreams.

They were complete opposites.

Y/n with his gages, ripped 80s band t-shirts and chains with highlights in his hair. Kids would call him names because he liked makeup, painted his nails and often wore large shirts as dresses with heeled boots. He wasn’t afraid to call people out on their bullshit even if they were figures of authority and was open about loving people regardless of what rested between their legs. While he was smart he didn’t care much for school but still did what he had to do though it was half ass.

Then you had Natasha, captain of the color guard and member of the JROTC drill team. Every year she was elected the president or VP of the class’s student council, claiming student body president of her senior class. Popular wasn’t the right term for her. Nat was well known throughout the school by name but she wasn’t someone who surrounded herself with a lot of friends. Not to mention she wasn’t the typical stuck up bitch people associated with popularity. Kind and nurtured, Nat was the type to welcome new students and offer tutoring to those in need. She was the top student in all her classes, rumored to be the Valedictorian when she graduated and crowned homecoming Queen.

Two sides of a coin, while Natasha was the one everyone saw making it big in the world, people believed Y/n would be a lost cause in the world. His grades were the bare minimum, test scores lacking when it came to college applications and showed no interest in pursuing higher education. Really the only thing he enjoyed was music class and showed talent in English when they were in poetry lessons. His teacher once said, “These are like songs, Y/n. I’m amazed with how lyrically beautiful they are,” she reads over the lines before handing the paper back to him, “Have you ever thought of going to music school?”

“I would if my family could afford it and if it was a guarantee my work would make it big. But it’s not so why waste my time and money.” Was always his answer.

His girlfriend on the other hand had every teacher offering to write letters of recommendation. Her ACT and SAT scores were exceeding, qualifying for Ivy League schools like Harvard and Princeton. Any university Nat applied to was met with an acceptance letter, the one bringing her most joy from the Naval Academy.

It was already common knowledge to Y/n that Nat wanted to be a pilot. Ever since they were kids she was talking about planes and flying. She was one of those kids who loved going to the airport when her family went on vacation that required them flying. One time she even asked to see the cockpit and was captivated by all the controls the pilots were telling her about. Then the local air show took place at the nearby naval base, securing the dream for Natasha she was determined to achieve.

So when the summer after graduation ended, both knew what was coming.

“We’ve got each other on MySpace,” her voice is soft, keeping her eyes on him while her family finished packing up the car with her belongings. “We can write letters and send emails. Maybe even plan a visit some time?”

“Yeah,” Y/n agrees, matching her tone. Hands in his pockets, he tries not to show how heartbroken he is. It was a mutual breakup so it shouldn’t hurt too much, but when it’s your first love you’re saying goodbye to the impact is lasting. “Even if we fall off, Nat, just know I’m always rooting for you. You were made for something more than this shitty place.”

“So are you,” she counters. “You act like you have nothing going for you now that school is over, but Y/n you have so much talent. You should really try to find a band or intern at some label—no matter how small. Maybe someone will see your work. I’m rooting for you too, you know?”

“I know, Natty. I’ll think about it. You just focus on becoming the best damn pilot the Navy has ever seen. We’ll see what fate has planned for me.”

Off to the Academy, Nat shed tears as the image of her now ex-boyfriend got smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror. She could only hope they would stay in contact, or cross paths in the future, but for now she had a mission to do.

Out of school and with little to his name, Y/n packed up everything he owned and moved to New York City. There he found an ad for a roommate with a bunch of guys who attended Pratt Institute, which just so happened to be above a music store. Quickly he secured a job at the shop and worked as many days as he could to save up for equipment to start making his own music.

Unfortunately he and Natasha did fall off like he expected. It pained him to admit he wasn’t surprised, but when the two of them were on completely opposite sides of the spectrum and lives going separate paths, it was bound to happen. All he hoped was for her to be having a great time at the Academy. That she would have all her dreams come true. From the sidelines he was her cheerleader.

After a couple years of working at the store, however, the shop owners Y/n had become close to eventually allowed him to borrow some instruments they had that were not for sale—so long as he did not fuck them up. Originally Y/n planned to make mock music videos for his songs and upload them to the buzzing video sharing website YouTube.

What he didn’t plan for was his boss contacting a buddy of his who happened to work at Def Jam Records after Y/n showed him his demo for ‘Giving Up The Gun.’

“Y/n, come here real quick,” Alan called him over from behind the register, the 21-year-old noticing he was with a man in a suit. The man appeared to be the same age as Alan, shaking Y/n’s hand when he introduced himself, “The name's Dale Kingston. You must be Y/n, Alan has told me a lot about you.”

“Hello, Sir,” he politely replies, glancing over to Alan with a raised brow. “Forgive me, but he’s never mentioned me to you.” The two men lightly laugh.

“Nah I wouldn’t put it past him too. Old man likes to keep everything about him mysterious.”

“I don’t who you’re calling old,” Alan quips back playfully, “Anyway, Y/n. Dale and I go way back—we were roommates in college actually. And while I made a career of sharing the art of music by opening my businesses, Dale ended up making a career of looking for the next best talent in the industry. He’s an exec at Def Jam Records,” Y/n felt his bulge open, flickering to Dale who nodded as Alan’s lips rose to a smirk. “And I sent him what you showed me. Hope you don’t mind, but Dale would like to talk to you if you’re alright with it.”

In just one hour of conversing, Dale left Y/n with his business card and a meeting with his team at their headquarters in Manhattan that weekend. Bursting through the door of his apartment, Y/n’s roommates flinched at the sudden sound, “Get up motherfuckers we’re going out tonight!!!” At the popular gay bar just up the street from where they lived, Y/n and his roommates celebrated with drinks and made out with strangers while dancing to Rihanna and Lady Gaga blasting through the speakers.

“Yo, Y/n/n, that hottie in the Hawaiian shirt is totally eye fucking you right now.”

“Well hot damn,” he hummed in delight, making eye contact with said hottie in a Hawaiian shirt. ‘Oh I’m going home with him tonight.’

The hottie in the Hawaiian shirt was named Bradley Bradshaw. A total stud, he rocked the 80s pornstache like no other and a body Y/n wanted to lick sugar off of. He was a native of Virginia who was visiting New York with some of his friends to celebrate his impending entrance to the Naval Academy.

Y/n found this as they basked in the afterglow of their hot session following the bar, “Wait, you’re going to the Naval academy? This fall?”

“Yup,” Bradley proudly states, “It sucks though cause I’ll be the oldest in my class. I’m about to be twenty-two and I’ll be surrounded by eighteen and nineteen year olds.”

“Why is that?” At Bradley’s changed expression, Y/n quickly takes the question back. “Nevermind, don’t tell me if you don’t want to. Shit, I just made it awkward.”

“No-no-no,” Bradley chuckles, placing his beer down on the nightstand. “It’s okay—just I am still bitter about it as you can tell. My uh…the guy who was like a father to me after my dad died pulled my application when I initially sent it in high school.” The confession has Y/n frown, feeling the wave of sadness and resentment radiate off of Bradley.

“That fucking wasn’t right. Did he ever tell you why?”

“No. He wouldn’t when I confronted him,” he rubs his jaw, “I haven’t spoken to him since.”

Switching things up so as to not further upset Bradley, Y/n asks, “What are you going for?” This brings light to the man, a smile coating his face.

“Aeronautical engineering.”

Something in Y/n’s stomach flipped, “Oh wow…are you wanting to be a pilot?” Surprise now takes over, Bradley raising a brow as asks how he knew. Y/n lights a blunt, taking a deep inhale to prepare him for explaining. He would’ve offered Bradley it but now knowing he was going to a military academy it was best not to.

“My ex girlfriend is there for the same. In fact…she should be graduating next spring,” he sighs out the smoke, feeling the ease fill his veins as memories of Natasha play in his mind. “Being a pilot was all she ever dreamed of. It’s why she worked so hard in school to meet the requirements for the program. Valedictorian, Cadet Colonel of the JROTC unit—we had Air Force not Navy though,” he specified at Bradley’s tilt of the head of the ranks. “We broke up just before she moved into the dorms. It was mutual, no hard feelings at all. She was going places and at the time I wasn’t.”

“And now you’re going places?” Bradley wondered aloud. Lips lifting in a smirk, Y/n simply replied, “Let’s sure fucking hope so.”

The rest of the night was filled with small talk and discussions about each other’s hopeful future. Y/n filled Bradley in on his dreams of music and how he was meeting with execs from Def Jam. Bradley was leaving back to Virginia soon but they promised to meet up again and keep in touch. They continued to hook up a few more times after that night and even went on a few dates, but after a couple months they realized they were better off as friends. Just like with Natasha, Y/n didn’t want to tie Bradley down or expect something serious when he was just starting his Naval career.

Plus, his own dreams were just getting started.

“That was ‘Giving Up The Gun,’ by an upcoming artist from Def Jam Records, Y/n L/n. The twenty-one year old from Scottsdale, Arizona seems to be giving a new voice to rock music, throwing in elements of pop and techno that we’ve gotten lucky to hear from his newly released EP. Critics and fans have already started labeling him the next David Bowie due to his colorful hair and outfits while not being afraid to wear glitter eyeshadow and lipstick. For those of us in the studio, we’re looking forward to what Y/n has to offer the music world.”

An EP became an album. One that hit the top of the charts in its first few weeks and established Y/n as the next rock n roll bad boy. Winning Best New Artist at the VMAs and AMAs, the early 2010s had Y/n’s name written all over it. Appearances on Good Morning America and the Ellen Degeneres Show. New York became his base of operation and soon Y/n embraced the high life he was getting from making it big. Rooster and him met up often to celebrate each milestone, the two growing closer as the years went on.

The next big break came in 2011 when Y/n was offered features on the Twilight Saga Breaking Dawn Part 2 soundtracks. ‘Where I Come From’ & ‘The Antidote’ were huge successes. He couldn’t believe he was walking the red carpet of a Hollywood premier when the film was released. And Lord was Robert Pattinson a sight for sore eyes. Kristen too. The soundtrack went on to receive a Grammy nomination with Y/n winning at the Teen Choice Awards the next summer. A world tour shortly after, Y/n fell in love with the road and meeting fans every night from across the globe.

And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the fan casts people made of him. Anytime it was announced a book was getting an adaptation, he was always what people pictured as the bad boy/sexy villain.

But acting wasn’t something Y/n was interested in. Personally he felt like he couldn’t act for shit and wouldn’t handle 12 hour work days or having to move every few months for a new project. New York was his home, with L.A being his second, and music was his life.

By 2016 Y/n had really made a name of himself in the music world. He was featured on more film soundtracks like Fast & The Furious 7 and Deadpool. Rock music got a new wave of fans. Y/n even changed it up a bit by collaborating with pop artists and rappers. ‘These Streets’ was well received by critics and fans, earning Y/n his third Grammy nomination that he had yet to win.

“You’re gonna get this year, Y/n/n,” Rooster assured him, passing a beer as they sat on the lounge chairs overlooking the beaches of Virginia. “If you don’t then they’re fucking out of their mind. Your hits this year were amazing—top of the charts and platinum in weeks! I’ll boycott them next year if they don’t give it to you.”

Unfortunately Rooster would have to make due with that promise for a few years.

Y/n didn’t want to say he cared about winning a Grammy. But truth be told he did wish he could say that of the nearly seven nominations he had received by 2019, he got a win. Whether it was Record of The Year or Album of The Year, it seemed the golden trophy was out of his reach. Whenever it was brought up in interviews he would brush it off saying, “I’m honored to have been recognized just from my nominations, but I don’t believe it should dictate how I am as an artist.”

One day he hoped to be standing on the stage, holding the award and thanking his loved ones and team who were just as much of winners as he was. But only time would tell.

Speaking of time, it seemed to work in mysterious ways.

A phone call from Rooster in December of 2019 had Y/n clad in a stunning suit appropriate for a Military ball and on his way to meet some of the pilots colleagues. It was to be a celebratory event to commemorate the group of Top Gun alumni in their successful mission stopping a uranium enrichment plant from becoming operational. Y/n had been very worried when Bradley informed him of the assignment. He was overseas finishing up his tour so one could imagine the anxiety he felt at the possibility his best friend could die.

Bradley picked Y/n up from his hotel in San Diego, the two having a quick pregame before arriving at the venue to the shell-shocked faces of the officers. Mickey, who was introduced as Fanboy, could barely make out words. Javy and Jake were looking at each other with expressions that read, “what the actual fuck?”, while Payback took a moment to be like ‘woah’ and proceed to act like Y/n was just a regular person.

“So how do you two know each other?” Jake was the first to ask what everyone was thinking. It wasn’t everyday one learns their rival-turned-friend was casually best friends with one of the best modern rock stars of their generation. Then he choked on his beer when Y/n simply replied, “We used to hook up.”

The questions rolled off from there.

“Wait, you two were together?”

“And you stayed friends?”

“Hold the phone, I need some details.”

After taking time to answer the questions, Rooster takes the moment to ask, “Where’s Phoenix and Bob?” This has Y/n raise his brow, not knowing who either were. Rooster had only briefly mentioned his colleagues to him, but never really explained who they were or how they met. He liked to keep his work life separate from his personal life.

Payback answered, “they’re on the way. I think Bob mentioned his Dress Blues were lost in the cleaners so he had to scramble to get a tux.”

“Damn. Well let’s get some drinks ready for when they get here.”

To say Y/n’s jaw about hit the floor when his eyes landed on Lt. Natasha “Phoenix” Trace was an understatement. In fact he had to rub his eyes just to make sure it was really her he was seeing. The same could be said for Natasha, who’s own eyes were bulging from her skull.

“Nat?”

“Y/n/n?’

Now everyone was looking between the two. “You two know each other too?”

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh, “Well if this isn’t a small world, then I don’t know what is.” A sudden feeling he couldn’t describe washed over him. He turns to Rooster to whisper under his breath, “You remember my high school girlfriend I once told you about?” Now it’s the pilot whose eyes are wide.

“Nat’s your high school sweetheart?” The exclamation could pretty much be heard through the entire venue, the daggers all showing faces of shock.

“Yup,” Y/n pops the ‘p’, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “She sure is.” Facing Nat, he bites his lip and says, “Uh, how have you been, Nat? It’s been like….I wanna say ten…fifteen years?”

“Just about, yeah,” Nat blushes, unsure how to respond. But how does one respond when they’re faced with their high school sweetheart who was a best selling rockstar? “I’ve been good. I would ask the same, but I’ve been following your career since you debuted.”

“You have?” Y/n was surprised by this. “Wow, um thank you. I see you were just as successful in your endeavors.” It comes to his mind that Natasha was the person Bradley always referred to as Phoenix in his stories. “Bradley’s told me a lot about you…but I never thought to ask what the name of ‘Phoenix’ was. Possibly I would've reunited with you sooner if I did.”

Nat takes the drink Y/n hands to her with a thanks, “You know when he mentioned he was good friends with someone named Y/n that he used to be involved with, I just assumed it was someone who shared a name with you. I didn’t think to ask further.”

“Eh, I don't blame you. I felt the instant awkwardness at the realization you and him share an ex.” Gesturing for the two to sit at a table away from the others, Y/n shared a look with Bradley and saw him biting back a laugh at his words. Nat on the other hand appeared a little flustered.

“How long were you together?” She cringed at how awful the question sounded. Why the fuck did she need to know? Her and Y/n had been broken up for years. It’s not like they were going to just pick things back up where they left off.

“Oh only a couple months. We realized we were better off as friends—especially since he was going off to the Academy and I had just been signed. To be honest,” Y/n paused to sip his beer, “it was mostly just the physical attraction we needed to get out of the way. It was great while it lasted but it never felt like it could become something more.” He made sure to not add the tiny fact he still had feelings for Natasha at the time.

Well maybe he still did. Lord knows being next to her was giving him those schoolboy feelings again.

The two talked almost the entire night. And then when the ball was done and the team migrated to The Hard Deck, they continued to stay close to each other. Nat told Y/n all about her years at the Academy and making it to fight school. Becoming one of the few female aviators and an alumni of the prestigious Fighter Weapons School before ending with the details about the mission she did with Rooster.

“It was the most intense thing I had ever been a part of,” she explained. “I’ve seen some crazy shit in all the years I’ve been flying. But this mission was beyond my limit—I-I still can’t believe we managed to pull it off.”

“I’m really proud of you, Nat,” Y/n’s smile was genuine, filled with sincerity. “Rooster told me about what he could, and hearing your side just makes me so grateful you guys came home.”

Y/n gave Nat all the juicy details of his high life in the music industry. How his boss was friends with an executive from Def Jam and was basically the reason he got discovered. He couldn’t help but laugh when Nat admitted she bought his albums and would watch the award shows he attended.

“I’m just so happy for you!” She defended with a playful shove. “After I heard you made it big of course I was going to support you anyway I could. You were also featured in Twilight and I happened to be obsessed with it when it came out so I was very excited to see you were featured on the soundtrack. Call me biased but ‘The Antidote’ and ‘Where I Come From’ are my favorites you’ve ever released.”

By the end of the night…or nearly morning because the time was pushing 4 am, Y/n and Nat parted ways with the promise of meeting up for coffee that weekend.

Neither went into things expecting anything to happen. As adults they simply wanted to see how things played out and if being friends could be possible. They didn’t end on bad terms which was good in itself. So why not try to make a friendship?

Well when a global pandemic hits when you and your ex are hanging out that results in you two having to go through quarantine together….close proximity can result in things neither planned for.

It first started out with simple compliments and the two watching movies together. Then it progressed to acts of service where Y/n would bring Natasha lunch or coffee when she was remotely working from home. For weeks this happened with both battling feelings beginning to resurface. Natasha tried to brush it off like a teenage crush. That she was being a hopeless romantic at the thought she and Y/n could possibly date again.

Would it be different now that they were adults? It’s not like they were kids again. Both were in successful careers that they worked hard for. Both were financially stable and would live comfortably when they retire in thirty or so years. Nat was a Lieutenant, and likely had a promotion lined up within the next year. And Y/n was working on new music so there was nothing he was too worried about.

After almost three months of dancing around feelings, one night the two were having dinner when the topic was brought up.

“Nat,” Y/n starts with a sigh. “I don’t know how much longer I can put up with this.” Her face falls to a frown, looking away as her heart picks up pace.

“Put up with what exactly?”

“Pretending like I don’t want to hold you in my arms. Like I don’t want to kiss you on the forehead before you fall asleep or tell you how you’re the most important person in my life. Since I was fifteen I’ve loved you and the reason no relationship I’ve had after has worked is because I’m so hung up on you.”

When he contemplates if he made the mistake confessing, he’s suddenly around the kitchen island to bring Nat into a searing kiss when she says, “What if I told you, you don’t have to pretend anymore?”

Their love felt natural. They already had a taste of it as teenagers. Now as adults it was busting like a rocket ship. That deep, immense feeling of love one can’t even begin to describe. Like the person was their air and kept them to the Earth.

Bradley was over the moon when they told. Really he was the first to find out the second they decided to make it official. He was Y/n’s best friend after all and Nat was the closest he had to a sister. Although he and the rockstar had history, Rooster would never let it be an issue and supported the two wholeheartedly. “It’s about damn time!” He yelled over the FaceTime call. “I’ve been waiting for this to happen since the night of the ball!”

It didn’t take long for the world to find out the resident bad boy of rock music was off the market. Hearts broke but many were happy for Y/n. Lots of fans actually thought it was the most adorable thing that he was back with his high school sweetheart after fifteen years of being apart. Natasha became well loved among his supporters and although she didn’t have much of a social media presence, she was always met with positivity. Anytime there was a rude ‘fan’ she would just block them without giving any attention.

“I’m a fucking pilot,” she rolled her eyes at the comment of how she was only with Y/n for money and his status. “They act like I didn’t make something for myself or have a career.”

“You tell ‘em, babe,” Y/n praises from the side, causing Nat to playfully roll her eyes.

2021 and 2022 were met with several milestones. Natasha was promoted to Lieutenant Commander and Y/n released his fifth studio album. Planning to go on tour in the summer of 2022, the couple went on a much needed vacation to celebrate their two year anniversary and relax after constant nonstop work in their lives.

“I could get used to this,” the pilot hummed in content, feeling the warmth of the sun's rays on her skin. The gentle sound of the ocean waves was soothing to her ears. Beside her Y/n laid on his stomach with a book in his hands while music played on the speaker. “Maybe I’ll just stay here while you go off to see the world.”

He snorted, “I’ll be jealous if you do.” Patting her thigh, he closed the book and threw it to the side. Cracking open two bottles of beer, he handed one to Nat, clicking the glass with her, “Happy anniversary, baby.”

“Happy anniversary to you, mister. Thank you for this.”

“Anything for my baby.”

The tour was a success and Natasha even managed to fly out for a few shows. Fans loved it when she did because she’d stand in the crowd to sing and dance with supporters rather than be in the VIP section or just off the stage. It was almost as though Natasha was the star of the concert rather than Y/n. Every show she attended the camera would be put on her at some point so the rockstar could dedicate his song, ‘Girl Almighty’ to her. He had written it just shortly after the two got back together, the woman instantly tearing up after she first heard the final product.

Fans would go crazy during the set, mostly because Y/n would come to where Natasha was at and get on his knees to sing the line, “I’d get down, I’d get down, I’d get down on my knees for you.” Then he’d hold a cup of water in the air, the crowd doing the same with their own drinks, for, “Let’s have another toast for the girl almighty. Let’s pray we stay young, stay made of lightning.”

Oh and let’s not forget about ‘No Control’…..a fan favorite that had Natasha blushing mad red like a tomato when Y/n wrote it. “I cannot believe you wrote that!”

“You love it, don’t lie.”

She really did though. It was a catchy beat and of course it made her heart skip that Y/n’s work was influenced by her and their relationship. It only made her love him more.

“Stained coffee cup. Just a fingertip of lipstick’s not enough. Sweet (ooh), where you lay (ooh). Still a trace of innocence on the pillow case.”

The audience of his shows would be in a frenzy. Nott a single person was not on their feet belting out the lyrics to the chorus. And Natasha was at the center with the most energy.

“Waking up. Beside you, I’m a loaded gun. I can’t contain this anymore. I’m all yours, I’ve got no control. No control! Powerless, and I don’t care, It’s obvious. I just can’t get enough of you. The pedal’s down, my eyes are closed. No control!”

Birthdays and holidays passed and before they knew it they were ringing in 2023. It wasn’t just a celebration of the new year and the release of Y/n’s single ‘Beggin’’, but also what the future would hold for him and Natasha after the rockstar got down on one knee and presented the love of his life with a gorgeous ring, “Baby, you know I’m not one to believe in superstition where fate works in mysterious ways. But when I look at how life took us apart only to bring us together, I can’t help but wonder if it truly exists. Fans like to call us ‘twin flames’ and honestly I think they’re on to something. Natasha, you’re my best friend. My one true love. The person I was meant to be with. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

They announced their engagement just before the Grammy awards. All over the news the story was being covered, fans buzzing with excitement for the couple.

@ badboy_Y/n: My favorites are engaged!!! Natasha’s ring is so beautiful omg I can’t wait to see the wedding!

@ onmykneesforyou: Natasha and Y/n are the reason I believe in love honestly—I’ll ascend to heaven if they ever break up.

@ SelenaGomez✔️: congratulations to my lovely friends @badboyY/n and @IAmPhoenix on their engagement! So so happy for you two!

@ MTV✔️: Stop my parents are getting married. I am screaming right now!

The night of the Grammy’s Y/n was filled with nerves. He usually was when it came to award shows, however this was different because he was up for Record of The Year, Song of The Year, and Album of the Year with a performance with the iconic Red Hot Chili Peppers. Thankfully Natasha was there to help ease it. She hadn’t attended many since their relationship started due to her job, but the ones she did made it a hell of a lot easier for the rockstar. Getting the red carpet and interviews out of the way, the two made their way inside. There they greeted several of Y/n’s friends and took pictures with celebs they admired. Nat had to hold back fangirling a bit when Ariana Grande and The Weekend approached.

“You look amazing!” Ariana gushed, taking in the stunning outfit Nat wore. “It’s so nice to finally meet you—I love your weekly newsletter you do about all the books you’ve read and places you’ve visited. I think it’s so cool what you do.”

Nat struggled to get words out. Here was THE Ariana Grande, world renowned popstar complimenting her and saying what she did was cool.

They took pictures with Ariana hoping to catch her at the after party before it was time for everyone to take their seats. The whole time Y/n held Nat’s hand or placed his on her thigh, only letting go when it was time to clap. Physical touch was his love language and it never failed to make Natasha feel loved and appreciated.

When it came time for Y/n to perform Beggin’ with the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Natasha was on her feet and dancing like she was the only one in the room. Hell, even Taylor Swift, Lizzo, and Harry Styles were dancing with her. “That’s my man!!” She yelled over the cheers when Y/n finished, blowing a kiss when they made eye contact. “I love you!!”

About two hours into the show, it finally came time for the big three.

Y/n cheered when Lizzo won Record of the Year….and about shit his pants when his name was called for Song of The Year.

“Wait, what?” He literally said as Nat jumped up from her seat with a scream, pulling him up to embrace. “Did—did he just say—.”

“You baby! You!”

Artists around him were on their feet, Harry Styles whistling against the uproar of the crows. His heart was racing and tears threatened to fall. It felt like a haze for the rockstar, a slight tremor in his hands as he took the award being handed to him. Then when he faced the crowd he was met with a standing ovation. Fucking Beyoncé was applauding with a grin. Y/n was absolutely speechless at the realization.

For the first time in nine nominations, he finally had a Grammy.

“Holy shit,” were his immediate words. “Wow.” People were still screaming so Y/n took the time to connect eyes with Natasha. She was in visible joy, wiping away a stray tear before clasping her hands together in front of her mouth.

“I don’t even know what to say. I’ve been dreaming about this moment for years it seems like—a-and I didn’t really think it was possible,” he paused briefly to glance at the trophy. “First I want to thank the Recording Academy for this honor. To everyone at Def Jam Records and those who’ve been with me since the start of my career—I can’t thank you enough. Shoutout to you Alan if you’re watching. You are the reason I’m standing on this stage—thank you for believing in me and to Dale for giving me the opportunity to share my music with the world. To my family back home and my friends, your support through the years is what’s kept me going.” Y/n smiled, thinking about Rooster and the guys, wishing he could see their reaction.

“And lastly, to the woman who’s my partner in crime. My muse. My best friend since ten years old and the love of my life. Natasha,” he connects eyes with her teary face, noticing how a cameraman had moved closer to her. “I love you so much. Thank you for your love and support. For believing in me and being my shoulder to cry on when the days get tough. You are everything a man could ask for and I’m so blessed to have the honor of being your fiancé. I can’t wait to marry you and see where life takes us. This award is for you, baby.”

Blowing a kiss to Nat, who blows one back, Y/n quickly ends with, “Thank you to everyone here tonight and at home who’s listened to my music and played ‘Beggin’’. Much love to you all—thank you thank you!” He finished just in time when the band started to play to signal his time was up. Y/n was met with open arms from Natasha when he returned to his seat, the rockstar lifting her in the air causing her to burst into giggles.

“Congratulations, baby,” she kissed him on the lips, careful not to ruin his lipstick. “I’m so proud of you—you deserve everything, Y/n.”

“Thank you, my love,” he kisses her again, then gives a wink. “Can’t wait for us to celebrate tonight.” He smirks at the blush that takes over her face.

Together they cheered for Harry after he won Album of the Year and after one last performance the show came to an end. Y/n, Harry, and Lizzo all posed for pictures and Y/n was hauled away for more interviews post ceremony. Finally they were set free to the after party, where the two basically stole the spotlight.

Dancing to the previous year’s hits and songs of the nominees, Natasha and Y/n partied like they were young and wild and free. They did shots with Adele, danced with Ariana Grande, sang with Lil Nas X. It was the time of their lives.

When it all ended Y/n escorted Nat to their ride, her right hand in his left while his right carried her heels, the two giggling like children as they ran down the hallway. Before they exited the venue Y/n brought Nat into a passionate kiss, dipping her slightly causing her to laugh. “I love you, Natasha. So much, you know?” His tone was filled with so much love it nearly took her breath away.

“I love you too, Y/n.”

Yeah fate was something not everyone could agree with. But one thing was for sure when it came to Y/n and Natasha. Like the Phoenix, their love rose from the ashes.

……………..

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