Ahh steamy
A Part of Me
Bellamy Blake x Reader
Summary: Two leaders of the Skaikru are ready to live and die for their people but what does it take to confess how they feel about each other?
Word Count: 4246
Warnings: Canon level violence, jealousy, anger, fighting, smut, switch, a little rough then very intimate, cumplay, filth, fluff, angst, softness, care, longing, pining, so many romantic feels it doesn't even look like I wrote this.
A/N: I literally couldn't do anything before getting this fic out of my system. Y'all, this fic says a lot more about my love for Bellamy than my actual writing skills LOL. This is my husband, idc what anyone says. And the guava wood info is backed up by yours truly who once made my own bow and arrows. Ah, good times.
Anyways, is this a new fic while I'm on hiatus? Yes. Does that mean I'm off hiatus? No.
Also there's music rec for this fic because y'all just need to feel this, put it on loop and vibe with me mofos.
The rustle of vegetation echoes into the night, uncomfortably loud as Bellamy walks through it. Self-awareness heightens at the contrasting steps of the woman beside him, calculating and silent.
“How do you manage to be so quiet?” he asks, the anxious annoyance in his voice hiding the relief that she could adapt so quickly to such a harsh environment.
“I’m not that quiet, you’re just loud,” she responds, trying to contain a smug smile and focus on the current mission.
“Then I guess you’re going to have to teach me your tricks, Y/N/N.”
“Maybe, Bell. Maybe.”
“Promise?” He teases. Y/N finally looks at him with an affirmative grin before changing the topic.
“Listen, we gathered enough stones to make the arrowheads and it’s getting late. I say we go back to camp and try to get wood some other time.”
“You sure? We can go further, the guava trees are close and it's gonna take too much of our time to get all the way out here again later on,” he speaks pensively before taunting. “And weren’t you the one fighting over how much we need that specific type of wood?”
“Hey, I’m just worried about how we're going to defend ourselves if we run out of resources to make bullets. We need to adapt, Bell,” she defends before mulling over their options. “Eh, but you’re right, let’s keep going. Like i said before, guava wood is strong and malleable, so it will be easier to make bows than with any other wood around, and at the same time they’ll make durable weapons. Whoever said the meek inherit the earth must’ve never heard of natural selection.”
“Wait,” he whispers, on high alert. “Something’s wrong.”
The two continue going deeper into the woods, choosing to risk dealing with the dangers that come with dusk. Y/N nerves tone down slightly once the moon is visible, and in a brief moment of distraction, she allows herself to become entranced with the moonlight filtering through the leaves. She's brought back into focus when Bellamy unexpectedly clasps onto her shoulder, stopping them both in their tracks.
Before Y/N's senses can fully tune in and register what made Bellamy agitated, he throws her the floor with him.
He looks back to see a spear sunken on the ground where Y/N had stood. His andrenaline spikes, and he simply doesn't have the time to feel the blood running down his arm from where the spear grazed him.
The man tackles her to the ground, striking her with a punch that splits the skin of her cheek. But the element of surprise doesn't keep Y/N down for long. She manages to put some distance in between them and shoots the grounder in the head before he can cause any more damage. As soon as the body hits the floor, four others appear from behind him. Y/N pulls the trigger, only to come to a dreading realization.
“Grounders!” He yells before they both raise their guns to a group that emerges from the shadows. They're effective in fight; one covers while the other reloads, working back to back, and keeping this dynamic going as if its second nature.
That is until one of the grounders manages to get too close to Y/N
“I’m out of ammo, Bell!” she yells before pulling out a blade from her holster. Using her position, she kicks the closest man off his feet and uses her speed to slide in between the two others. The blade cuts the back of a man’s knee and severs the achilles tendon of another, bringing both down to Y/N's level before she slashes their throats.
Bellamy catches up, shooting the rest of the grounders in the head before turning to the last remaining enemy. The man runs towards him, and Bellamy pulls the trigger
But no shots fire.
Fists rise in preparation but before anything can happen, something flies past Bellamy and sinks into the grounder’s chest. The man falls back, immobile, with an arrow buried in his heart.
When Bellamy turns, Y/N's bloody image greats him, holding a bow that belonged to one of the dead.
“See? I told you it’s all about adapting, Bell.” she utters with a faint smile as the brutal aftermath of the battle starts to settle in. Bellamy doesn't smile back and run towards her to check where so much of the blood coating her came from. His eyes are wide as he works with his hands, scanned Y/N and trying to make sense of where the bleeding was coming from.
“It’s not mine. Turns out cutting someone’s throat isn’t the cleanest job in the world,” she clarifies, pulling a rag from her pocket and cleaning her face from splattered blood. Bellamy still wears a panicked look, leading Y/N to reassure. “I’m not hurt, Bell.” she confirms once again beforetaking his hands in hers. The gesture is enough for him to pull her into a tight hug.
The two make quick, careful work in their returning, armed with blades and other weapons they picked up from the grounders. When they finally reach. camp, they are met by Octavia, who was getting ready to search for the late duo.
"You know, O? You make knife fights seem way too easy." She greets, walking in Octavia's direction, who in turn takes in Y/N's bloody clothes.
"I take it our sparring sessions did you good. You followed my advice?"
"Yeah - Aim for the throat. Slash, don't stab. Make it deep." Y/N recites before Octavia embraces her in bear hug, letting out a deep muffled breath.
"I would take you as my second if I could."
"Ha, yeah right," She teases, pulling away and giving a knowing look. "Don’t start getting cocky on me, girl. I'm older than you, and you might be better with a blade but I'll always beat you at grappling."
"You can't grapple if you can't get close enough."
"Oh, you wouldn't see me coming unless I wanted you to."
Bellamy watches them go back and forth, unable to contain a satisfied smirk. Y/N treats Octavia as her younger sister, playful and competitive yet always protective. Before their banter can turn into a sparring session, an approaching voice makes itself knwon.
“Bellamy!” A girl calls out before running into the man with a force that nearly knocks him off his feet.
Y/N catches Octavia rolling her eyes, both of them knowing exactly who that girl is; one of the few people in camp who tries to sleep their way into a leadership position, uncaring of hard work or proving themselves to their people. Y/N raises her brow at the sight of the girl smothering Bellamy with a hug.
“What happened? Do you need me to help you with anything?” The girl speaks in a high pitched that easily gets onto Octavia's nerves. Bellamy lets out a dry “No, I’m fine.” before getting suffocated by another embrace.
“I missed you.” she whines.
Y/N finally gets tired of the scene, giving Octavia a look that warns her to behave before heading to her tent. Bellamy immediately takes notice of Y/N distancing herself and politely pushes the clinging girl away.
“Yeah, uh- I need to debrief so I’ll to talk to you later.” he dismisses before jogging towards Y/N's tent. He catches up to her, watching her beside her tent, washing the blood stains from her face.
“Clarke’s gotta take care of that arm before it gets infected, Bell.” she advises without facing him.
“Clarke’s busy,” the lie spills easily from his lips, a lie he's used to telling. “Could you help me out?” Y/N answers by drying herself and entering the tent. While searching for her medical kit, she asks.
“Who was that?”
Bellamy feels a rush of embarrassment. He didn’t expect the question, but being prepared wouldn't have helped when the answer was that he didn’t remember.
“Uh... Stephanie?” he guesses, head lowering and eyes casting downwards. “Kathy? I'm not sure.”
“Hey, no need to be ashamed." Y/N's words cause the man behind her to lift his gaze. "We all need to relax sometimes, I’m guilty of it myself. There are some guys here at camp whose name I definitely should be remembering, so I can’t exactly judge you.”
Bellamy would be lying if he said jealousy didn’t burn in his chest, that dismay didn't flood his senses. But she wasn’t his, she never was.
Not even during that one night.
They never spoke of the night they had mere days after landing on Earth, of what happened when they felt free and invincible, oblivious to how dangerous the ground could be. Bellamy would be lying if he said Y/N’s moans didn’t fill his dreams, that he wasn't haunted by the ghost of her tongue sliding against his skin. But after they understood the true implications of being leaders, they left that night to the past.
Y/N didn’t belong to him, though by now he felt he couldn't belong to anyone but her. There were parts of him that were only for her eyes, for her to know, witness, experience. His weaknesses and vulnerabilities were strongly guarded, yet she could reach them with such ease.
“I hope you weren’t fast to forget my name after we got together.” he speaks with a weak chuckle, a horrible attempt to defuse the tension between them.
Y/N looks at him with nothing but a raised brow, surprised and intrigued as to why he would mention that night. Forcing herself to brush it aside, she walks up to him with the medical kit in hand.
“You got cut in the upper arm, right?” she checks, but Bellamy responds by gently taking the kit from her.
Let me take care of you first, his actions say.
Her expression protests, You’re worse than me, but he doesn't care.
They often have these silent conversations, which is apparently the consequence of two people spending so much time together trying to take care of their people. Pulling out cotton and antiseptic, Bellamy places a hand to the side of Y/N’s face to keep her still while he cleans the split skin of her cheek. Y/N winces at the sting, and Bellamy sooths her with the caress of his thumb.
“I’m sorry.” he whispers, brows furrowed in concentration.
“Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt that much.”
“Not just for that. I should’ve listened to you when you told me to get back to camp. I just-” he hesitates, losing his words. Bellamy isn't one to falter, so Y/N presses.
“You just what?”
“It’s... It's just hard for me to know when I should be acting in favor of your safety or the safety of our people..."
Trying to digest those words, Y/N attempts to meet his gaze, but he has laser focus on the proper cleaning of her wound.
"... Especially when a part of me wants to put you above everyone else."
That was a confession if she’s ever heard one, a dangerous one. Y/N battles the sudden influx of emotions, torn between wanting to give in and fearing how that would affect them as leaders.
Fortunately, hers was a small wound, so Bellamy finishes by applying an antibiotic salve before taking a selfish second to caress her jaw with the back of his hand and gift her with a relieved smile. With Y/N finally cared for, Bellamy relaxes and shrugs off his jacket, sitting on her bed so she can see the wound on his arm.
She looks at him as if asking Can I touch? and he nods in approval.
After analyzing the cut, Y/N uses a wet towel to clean the dry blood surrounding it and proceeds to prepare needle and thread. Grabbing moonshine from the side of her bed, Bellamy takes a swing, hands forming into a fist and inhaling to prepare for the pain that's to come. He's starting to lose count of how many of his wounds she's stitched.
Y/N knows that no amount of familiarity with a needle could make anyone hate it any less, so she places her hand above his and gives an encouraging nod - a reassurance and a silent Thank you for having my back. Once needle pierces skin, Y/N decides to distract Bellamy with a truth she should’ve already voiced.
“You didn’t make that decision alone. I agreed to it, led us all the way there in the first place. We’re both at fault but we work with the best knowledge we have and we always put our people above all.” Those are her final words before she finishes stitching and bandaging his arm.
But that always was a lie.
There were parts of her selfish enough to want to prioritize the man in front of her. But people in a position such as theirs couldn’t allow themselves to be selfish.
Just as they finish, Jasper enters the tent with a glass of moonshine in hand and a slight sway to his walk.
“Hey, there’s a party going on and you guys are missing it. You joining or what?” he invites with a devious smile.
Bellamy looks to Y/N, accepting her nod and answering. “Sure, we’ll be right there. And next time, give the heads up before entering someone’s tent.”
“Okay, bossy belly.” Jasper mocks as he leaves. Y/N couldn’t contain her laughter, but after giving herself a minute, she goes back to being professional.
"You can go ahead, I need to change into fresh clothes.”
“Yeah, me too. See you at the bonfire?” He asks with hopeful look on his face, standing up from the bed.
To his surprise, Y/N hugs him.
It's not one of the thousands hugs they've shared, the recurrent 'thank god you’re alive.' No, this was 'I’m doing this just because', something Bellamy was strangely unused to.
“Sure, meet you there.”
After changing, Bellamy sits at the bonfire with his people while he waits for Y/N. She takes a bit longer than he expected, so he felt excites when his senses pick up a presence lingering behind him. His heart races when the person hugs him, a tender feeling daring take over and he can't help but smile. This is definitely something he can get used to.
Bellsmy only realizes who the person hugging him truly is when they speak at the same time he catches sight of Y/N at the other side of the bonfire.
“Hey, Bell.” Stephanie or Tiffany or whatever the fuck her name is whispers into his ear.
Y/N watches him attentively, wearing a stone-cold expression as she sits down. That finally snaps Bellamy into action, getting the girl off him and pulling her to the side where they can't be heard.
“Don’t call me that. Look, we had fun but we agreed that it was a one night thing. So I don’t know what you’re trying to do here, but stop it. I’m done.” He doesn't give the girl any time to react, immediately returning to the bonfire to check if Y/N had left.
But she was still there.
Sat next to Dario.
Bellamy’s blood boils at the sight of Y/N’s hand caressing his inner thigh, at her whispering something into his ear. Everyone else is too drunk to notice Y/N gently take Dario's earlobe into her mouth, or to witness her groping the man beside her while staring straight at Bellamy.
Bellamy wished it was just jealousy, that this was an irrational feeling because of what he once had but jealousy is just the tip of the iceberg.
He feels hurt. Like he lost her just when he had the courage to voice a fraction of the feelings that barely fit into his chest. The walk from where he stood to where Y/N sat was a blur, Bellamy’s mind barely registering his request once he reaches her.
“We need to talk.” his tone leaves no room for argument as he shoots a deadly look at Dario. Though it was nothing quite as deadly as the cold eyes Y/N greets Bellamy once she stands up. She walks past him and he follows as always, entering her tent the second time this night.
He sees her pour moonshine in a cup, her back to him, always facing away whether it was to cover him in battle or because she couldn’t look at him. His brain gets caught up with worry, She shouldn’t be drinking right now.
“Do us both a favor and don’t lie to me, Bellamy.” She starts before downing a shot and turning to him. Her confrontational stance and the deliberate choice to not use the affectionate nickname she chose for him makes his words disappear once again. He doesn't want to fight, to feel this hurt or cause her any pain. But before he can voice that, Y/N accuses.
“I guess honesty is too hard for you, huh?”
“What you saw back at the bonfire wasn’t what you think it is. I thought the person behind me was you.” He argues immediately. “And I meant everything I’ve said to you.”
“Oh please. Stop lying. So what, you were telling the truth when you said you cared too much about my safety? Enough that it clouds your judgment as a leader?”
“Yes.”
“How about the dozens of times you told me Clarke was too busy to patch you up?” Bellamy’s expression is enough of a response to change Y/N's tone, voice still furious but revealing the hurt she tries to keep deep down. “Do you know what I think, Bellamy? I think you don’t like to be alone.”
“That’s not true, I only lied about that because I know you try to solve everything on your own,” he confesses, this time not backing down. “You think I don’t know about the times you’ve lied about how hurt you really were? The times you stitched yourself on the brink of passing out because you try to make everyone’s burden lighter to carry? I lied because I wanted to be there for you.”
“Do not make this about me, this is about you! You’re terrified of being alone so you’ll stick around and pretend like you care until you get bored and, and need to find the next interesting thing.”
“It’s not true and you know it,” he implores, watching anger tear at her.
“I can’t believe I let myself believe in you, that I let you sweet talk your way into my head.”
“I’ve only wanted you.” his voice is controlled, confident as he approaches her.
“Stop lying.”
“It’s only you, Y/N/N. No one else.”
“STOP LYING TO ME, BELLAMY!” the demand louder than before, emphasized with a push to his chest.
“I’m not.” he swears, holding her hands and keeping them to him. “It’s only you, it’s always been you.”
Silence stretches out for long tortuous seconds. Y/N stares at Bellamy hesitantly, afraid to believe until he can see the choice in her expression.
“Fuck you,” she mutters, bringing him down by the shirt into a rough kiss he immediately returns. Y/N bites his lip, kissing the side of his mouth and moving onto the weak spot of his neck. Bellamy lets go of her hands and feels her shove at his jacket, exposing skin and latching her mouth onto places he’s been haunted by since that first night. He wears a dizzy smile, hearing her mumbling in between biting and sucking at his skin.
“That fucking bitch.” A lick to his neck.
“...not hers to touch.” A bruising suck at his pulse.
“…swear to god if I see her hands on you again.” A punishing bite to his shoulder that’s littering with teeth marks.
Y/N pushes him onto the bed and he leans back on his elbows, watching as she takes off his pants and underwear. She returns by flattening her tongue, licking a straight line up his cock. Bellamy lets out a cracked moan at the unexpected move and Y/N quickly removes her own clothing.
She dips her fingers inside herself and shoves them into his mouth, his head spinning at her taste. Y/N watches him suck eagerly before sinking to her knees to lick at the precum that gathered on the tip of his cock. Bellamy lets a final gasp leave his lips at the feeling of her sucking at the skin of his inner thighs. Calling to her, he grabs her by the hair and tries to clear his head.
“Fuck. Ah, holy fuck. I can still taste you.” he pants. Taking a second to ground himself, he takes Y/N’s face into his hands, pushing back her hair and leaning his forehead onto hers. “Calm down, Y/N/N. Calm down. I know you’re still mad but I want things to be different this time. I wanna us to take our time… I want to feel you.”
Y/N can still feel her veins pulsing under her skin. She shudders at the intimacy he’s asking of her but nods in approval.
“I want to feel you inside me.” she purrs, the harshness of her tone disappearing but the want still there.
Bellamy sits her in his lap, puts two fingers into his mouth, wetting before slowly guiding them inside her and going straight for the g-spot. He strokes slowly but firmly, building onto the tension that’s starting to break her resolve crumble. He keeps her head in place, swallows the dazed look in her eyes as she gives in to the feeling more and more. The stimulation is enough to keep her on the edge but never go over it.
Y/N loses her ability to sit straight, gripping onto Bellamy’s hair and latching her mouth to his collarbone while she lazily rides the fingers deep inside her. When she thinks she might finally cum, Bellamy pulls away. His fingers move to her lips and she doesn’t hesitate to lick them clean before being brought into a sloppy kiss.
Y/N pulls back, looking at the hardness in between his legs. When she looks back at Bellamy’s face, they both nod and give each other hazy smiles. Bellamy splays one hand to her lower back, the other lining his cock at her entrance. Both their breaths hitch with anticipation, the tip teasing her, running up and down her slit. Y/N grasps his chin, bringing him into another kiss when he finally pushes in.
“G-god, Bell.” she moans into his mouth, her hand moving to the back of his neck. He sinks slowly, letting her feel every inch, his eyes rolling back with how warm and tight she feels.
When he’s fully inside her, he pauses to let her adjust to the stretch, their lips just barely touching as they breathing each other’s air. Bellamy presses gentle kisses onto her face, going from her forehead to her temple and cheekbone, then her mouth.
“Are you okay?” he asks, blown pupils full of care and hunger. She responds by cupping his cheeks and bringing him in to suck at his lower lip.
“I lied before.” he rasps, shaking his head and making eye contact, his freckles highlighted by flushed cheeks. “I lied about one thing. About when I said there was only one part of me that wanted to put you above all else. Everything inside me screams to keep you safe. When I see you hurt, I hurt too. I feel this desperation consuming me, telling me I should protect you, telling me to take all the pain so you won’t have to. Every part of me wants to be selfish, to be yours. Only yours.”
“You’re mine now.” she answers, finally letting these feelings out, tangling her fingers in his curls. Y/N hips finally move when she confesses “And I’m yours.”
Their bodies begin working, meeting each other. The movements are slow, yet every bit of friction causes an electric pleasure to continuously ripple through them.
Their rhythm soon speeds up, hands gripping possessively, tongues unforgiving, lips swollen, holding onto each other as if nothing else exists. Their gasps, groans, and whimpers mix together - a string of curses, begging, and calling each others names. Their voices become strangled as they reach their high, trying to be unheard by outsiders yet drunk on the clenching and pulsing and the slam of their hips. Bellamy cums first, Y/N following as soon as she feels him spilling inside her. Overwhelmed with pleasure, she digs her nails into his hips to keep them in place.
“Stay inside stay inside stay inside.” her low sinful pleads against his skin driving him crazy, into a deeper mental space of possessiveness. "Stay inside me, Bell."
"God, you're mine." He growls, desperate. "All mine."
Her orgasm draws his out longer and they both ride it with their heads buried in each other’s necks. They stay in that position for a while, breathless, calming down from their high.
“I never forgot it.” Y/N’s ragged voice takes away Bellamy’s attention on the feeling of his cum trailing down, escaping the both of them.
“W-What?”
“Your name. After our first time. We barely knew each other but I didn’t forget it.”
“I didn’t forget yours either.” he smiles, gently laying her down and bringing a blanket to their shoulders before they both drift away into sleep.
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The Poor Way Pt. 3
Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Street Racer!Reader
Warning: stealing, a bit of swearing, a few dirty thoughts, and most importantly, I have no idea how to steal a car so I just wrote what I saw in a video of how to disassemble a car
Ransom and Bolt had their sights set on their first target: Derrick Philsburg, a name that had long lingered on Ransom's list of least favorite people.
The animosity between Ransom and Derrick started when Derrick, a fellow socialite in their elite circle, stole Ransom's idea for a new mysterious book. Ransom had been secretly working on a plot for months, hoping to step out from his family shadow and prove himself as a writer. But Derrick had shamelessly stolen the concept, leaving Ransom fuming with rage.
Not only because he stole his idea but because no one believed Ransom could even write with a pen and paper. Everyone just laughed at him when he called Derrick out on the media. Hs whole family couldn't take his anger seriously, they just saw it as Ransom wanting attention.
As they approached Derrick's luxurious mansion, Ransom's anger bubbled beneath the surface. He couldn't let this slide any longer. "Get ready, Bolt," he muttered to his accomplice. "This is personal."
Bolt, always up for a challenge, nodded in understanding. She knew that this wasn't just about him having fun; it was about Ransom's pride.
The duo managed to slip past the security cameras and guards with practiced ease, the adrenaline pumping through their veins. They reached Derrick's prized car collection, showcasing wealth and arrogance. Ransom couldn't help but smirk. "Let's make this count."
Bolt, the expert in their odd partnership, took the lead. She whispered her plan to Ransom, explaining the precise order and technique to remove the required car parts.
"First, we'll need to pop the hood," she said, her voice barely audible. "That's where the engine is located."
Ransom nodded, watching intently as she deftly unlatched the hood. She continued, "Now, let's start with the spark plugs. They're right here." She pointed to the engine's side. "Use the socket wrench to loosen and remove them, but be careful not to damage the threads."
Ransom followed her instructions, his fingers trembling with nerves and excitement. Bolt's guidance was invaluable as she moved on to the next component. "Next, we'll disconnect the ignition coil. We must do this carefully so we don't fry the electrical system."
With each step, Bolt explained the process from removing the air filter to detaching the intake manifold. Her expertise was evident as she demonstrated how to disconnect the oxygen sensors and carefully extract the fuel injectors.
Ransom couldn't help but think, “damn, I think to get laid,”
He felt too cocky after their smooth progress and accidentally brushed against an alarm sensor while working on the intake manifold. The car's alarm began to trumpet loudly, piercing the silence of the night.
Panic washed over Ransom's face as he cursed under his breath. Bolt, quick on her feet, reached into her toolkit and swiftly disconnected the alarm sensor, silencing the intrusive noise.
Ransom let out a sigh of relief as the silence returned, and he sheepishly grinned at Bolt. "Oops, got a bit carried away there."
Bolt shot him a knowing look but didn't scold him. Instead, she nodded and gestured for him to continue their mission. Their heist continued smoothly, with Ransom now a bit more cautious, realizing that their actions had to be precise and stealthy.
As they progressed, Ransom found himself in awe of Bolt's knowledge and skill. With Bolt's guidance, they swiftly disassembled the required car parts, making their collaboration seamless and efficient.
In his mind, he couldn't help but think, God, she's intoxicating. No. Stop thinking with your dick. I’m out of her league. I can find someone way better.
Back in the car, the adrenaline still coursing through their veins, Bolt couldn't help but chuckle. "I have to admit, Ransom, that felt satisfying."
Ransom couldn't help but think, “I’ll show you satisfying, my dick slamming against-” he quickly stopped himself to continue.
He turned to look at her and grinned, his resentment towards Derrick momentarily overshadowed by their successful heist. "Yeah, it did. But this isn't over yet. On to my next victim."
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The Poor Way Pt. 2
Pairing : Ransom Drysdale x Street Racer!Reader
Warning: mentioning stealing and illegal activities
Ransom had an audacious plan forming in his mind as he stood there, his smug smirk undeterred by Bolt's annoyance. Her reputation as a legendary street racer intrigued him, and he was determined to experience the thrill that had eluded him for so long.
Bolt, on the other hand, was not impressed by Ransom's proposal. Her world was built on speed, skill, and adrenaline, not on privileged whims. She glanced at her Toyota 86, contemplating her options. Could teaching this rich, impulsive guy the art of street racing be worth her time?
Ransom noticed her hesitation and decided to sweeten the deal.
"Listen," he began, his tone more persuasive,
“I can make it worth your while. I've got resources, connections, and, most importantly, money. You help me become a street racer, and I'll pay you a hefty check”
Bolt crossed her arms, still skeptical.
"Money won't buy you the skills you need to race," she retorted "Pursuing illegal activities isn't a walk in the park. It requires dedication, practice, and constant alertness against the risks of getting caught, all while trying to outwit authority."
Ransom, undeterred, leaned in closer. "I may not have the skills yet, but I have something you might find valuable – a challenge. If you can turn me into a formidable street racer, it'll be a testament to your expertise.” he says with a smug look
Bolt raised an eyebrow, her irritation giving way to a hint of curiosity. She had always loved a challenge, and teaching a rich playboy the secrets of the street could be the ultimate test of her abilities.
"Fine," she conceded, her expression softening slightly. "I'll teach you, but only if you're serious about this. Don't act like a snob, just follow my lead."
Ransom nodded eagerly. "Deal”
As they sealed their agreement, Ransom couldn't help but remembered vividly how Bolt had hijacked his car just two months ago, a fact he hadn't shared yet.
Bolt noticed the mischievous expression on Ransom's face and couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "What's going through that head of yours now?" she asked.
Ransom hesitated for a moment before deciding to come clean. "That Beamer you saw me driving earlier? You hijacked it two months ago."
Bolt's expression shifted from surprise to a defensive stance. She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing as she faced Ransom. "So, you knew it was your car all along, and you still approached me?"
Ransom nodded, still grinning, but his tone had nothing but exitment. "Yeah, I did. But it got me thinking. I want to commit Grand theft”
“No” she says with no hesitation
“Oh come on! I want to commit to doing it the unethical way possible” he says practically on his knee begging
Bolt sighed, realizing that Ransom was genuinely excited about the idea of car part theft.
“Fine," she relented, but her tone was measured.
“But remember, this isn't just about grabbing parts. It's about knowing which parts to take and how to use them. It's a strategy, not just theft."
Ransom nodded enthusiastically, fully embracing the challenge.
“I get it, Bolt. So, who do you think I should target first?"
Bolt smirked, her competitive spirit rekindled. "Tell me, Ransom, who do you hate the most in this town? That's where we start."
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