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bad268 · 3 months

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Teenage Heartbreak Queen (Arthur Leclerc X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/WEC

Requested: Nope, I was listening to music and thought of this lol, good song if you haven't heard it (italics are flashbacks) Also, please vote on this POV poll

Warnings: unrequited love (with Charles)

POV: Third Person (She/her)

W.C. 1992

Summary: Teenage Heartbreak Queen by Palaye Royale

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(@/Charles's insta from May 14, 2023)

They met when they were younger. They met at the karting track back in 2006. Y/n was 7, and Charles was 9. Y/n’s older brother was competing against Charles for the championship, and that was the first time Y/n was on the track.

Y/n got lost. Well, not really. She went to the bathroom, and when she came back, her family was gone. They actually just went to the garage and were helping her brother prepare for the race. She walked around aimlessly until the race started, and she ran into Charles, having crashed out in the first corner.

“Do you know where my brother is?” She asked, recognizing the race suit that looked similar to her brother’s. “My name’s Y/n L/n.”

“I think he’s racing still,” Charles answered, “I can take you over to his garage. I’m pretty sure your parents are there. I’m Charles by the way. Your brother’s my teammate.”

“That’s cool!” Y/n exclaimed, grabbing Charles’s outstretched hand and following him toward the garage. “Does this mean we’re friends now?”

“I guess,” He started with a laugh before she took off running.

“Then catch me!”

The two hit it off, becoming fast friends on the track. It did not take long for them to start hanging out outside of racing. When they did, no one else mattered. Charles preferred to hang out with Y/n in comparison to his brothers or her brother, his teammate.

“We’ll always have each other right, Charlie?” Y/n asked one day while they were at the park. It was something they did every day after school while they waited for Lorenzo to pick them up. “We won’t ever change, right?”

”No, you’ll always be my best friend,” He replied as he held her hand. Even though they were only 10 and 12, they were sure that nothing could get between them.

They would always give Lorenzo a heart attack when he was in charge of them because they would hide from him. It was their own little game. Just Charles and Y/n. They did everything together. From working together on school assignments to karting. They were inseparable and they did not want to be separated.

As time went on, Charles and Y/n grew up together. Some would say they were the start of a childhood friends-to-lovers trope. Charles was not sure when he crossed the line, but he knew that he could not live without her.

At one point, she was less responsive to his messages and less likely to come to his races. He blamed it on teenage depression. She was 16 at this point, so he understood. He decided she would come around at her own time and left it at that.

Y/n, on the other hand, felt that she had been cast aside. Charles was getting deeper into racing and her brother had left a long time ago. Charles did not realize that he had put Y/n on the backburner when he started entering higher championships. He had been pouring himself into his races after he lost Jules. Not that Y/n blamed him! Everyone recovers in their own way, but he had not stopped to notice the people around him. Y/n was worried about him, but he was too absorbed with his racing to notice.

Y/n found out about this when she went to his house one night after not hearing from him in a while. Charles was not home, but his brothers were. Lorenzo and Arthur were there, and Pascale was traveling with Charles.

She found out that he had moved on, found new racing friends, and even a couple of girlfriends. Y/n never had feelings for Charles, but she was still hurt that she had to find out about his new life from his brothers.

Since Charles decided to leave Y/n, she decided she would move on too. He built a new life without her, so she decided she didn’t need him.

She turned to Arthur for comfort. He was close to her age, and he understood where she was coming from. He and Charles were close, but when he joined Formula 3, it was like he didn’t matter either. Arthur knew exactly how Y/n felt.

So they kept in touch, finding solace and comfort with each other. Pretty soon, they couldn’t live without each other. They were a tag team, Arthur and Y/n. When they told Lorenzo about their eventual relationship when they were both 18, Lorenzo said he could have seen it coming. He knew they were made for each other. Even if it was unfortunate circumstances that brought them together, he was happy for them.

They found themselves together. Arthur learned that he wanted to be a racing driver too, and Y/n found out that she had a passion for aerodynamics and engineering.

Arthur began taking racing seriously as Y/n started taking college classes until they graduated. When they did, Y/n had already completed most of her degree. She just needed an internship in her field of choice.

Y/n got an internship under Adrian Newey just as Arthur was entering Formula 3, and by the time he was in Formula 2, she had secured a job in Red Bull since Adrian was retiring.

Even though she was with the rival team, as Arthur joked, she was happy because she got to learn from the best. This also made for a fun (all joking!) rivalry between the two lovers.

It wasn’t until the 2023 season that Y/n was able to make a name for herself in the racing world. She designed the RB19 by herself since Adrian knew he would retire and wanted her to put her skills to use. He supervised it but the entire design was by Y/n’s hand.

Now 24, she was being recognized for her work. Before, people would overlook her and go straight to Adrian, but since he announced that she did all of the work designing the car, the press has been all over her.

And Arthur is proud! His amazing girlfriend made the most dominating car of the decade. There would be times he would visit her in her garage. Sticking out like a sore thumb in red amongst the sea of navy blue, but it’s fine. Arthur would do anything to support her.

It isn’t until the last race of the season that she runs into Charles again. Despite being in a relationship with his brother for six years, they never crossed paths and Charles never met Arthur’s girlfriend. She stood proud on the podium with Max, representing Red Bull, and Charles had placed second.

She accepted the trophy before holding it over her head, gesturing to her team. After they cheered, she pointed directly at Arthur and winked at him. Charles couldn’t see who she was pointing at, but he decided that since he was finally in a stable part of his career, he might act on his long-time crush on his best friend, he still considered her.

He decided he would approach her after the podium celebration; hopefully, he stood a chance. After they sprayed the champagne, he walked up behind her.

“Long time, no see, Y/n/n,” he said as he threw an arm over her shoulder. He didn’t catch the side-eye Y/n gave, nor would he have cared if he did. The adrenaline from placing second was making him delusional. “When were you going to tell me you got a job with Red Bull? I could’ve set you up at Ferrari.”

“Do you even remember the last time we talked?” She laughed nervously, but he didn’t pick it up yet again. She gently pulled his arm off her shoulders, opting to move down the stairs toward the garages. He couldn’t remember the last time they talked, but she sure did.

”Charlie, do you wanna watch a movie with me this weekend?” 15 year-old Y/n asked Charles over the phone. It was the only way they could actually talk, but Y/n missed her friend. Plus, she talked with Pascale and found out that he didn’t have a competition this weekend. She thought this would be the best time for them to hang out in person.

”I would but I promised Joris I would hang out,” he dismissed immediately. “I promised we would go karting to practice for the championship. You’re welcome to join us if you want.”

”But Charlie, we haven’t hung out in so long! You see Joris every week,” Y/n sighed, already knowing he was blowing her off once again. She should have expected it at this point. “Can we do something this weekend, please?”

”I’m sorry, Y/n/n, but I need to prepare for this championship!” And with that, he hung up the call. That was the last time that Y/n reached out first, and that was the last time they talked period.

“Listen. Charles,” she started and he visibly winced. He couldn’t remember the last time she called him Charles. He was always Charlie to her. “I would love to chat, but I’m meeting with my fiancé in a few minutes.”

Instantly, he grew pale. She was taken, of course she was. He could feel his heart break immediately, but maybe he still had a chance if she wasn’t happy. He thought it was best to be supportive and see from there. “Oh, that’s great. I’m happy for you and the lucky guy,” he tried his best to sound sincere, but it came out kind of flat. Y/n caught onto it immediately too.

“He is pretty amazing. We’ve been together since we were 18. You would know that if we actually talked, y’know,” Y/n chuckled lightheartedly as she set the trophy down on the table in the garage before turning back to Charles who stood awkwardly at the garage door. “You’ll have to meet him soon. He is meeting me here in a few minutes if you want to stay around to meet him.”

“Hey mon amour,” Arthur said as he came up behind Y/n and wrapped his arms around her waist. He placed small kisses across her face as he whispered praises and congratulations for a team victory, once again. “I’m so unbelievably proud of you.”

“Thank you, love,” she giggles bashfully as her face heated up under the attention. Y/n was so caught up in Arthur that she almost forgot about Charles standing in front of them until he cleared his throat. “Oh, I almost forgot. Charles, this is my fiancé.”

“Your fiancé is my brother?!” He shouted, eyes wide, pointing between the two. “When was I going to learn about this? Do Enzo and Maman know?”

“They’ve known for a while now,” Arthur laughed, leaning into Y/n’s side. “We told Enzo when we first got together.”

“Yeah, when you were 18?” Charles questioned, being met with nods from the two. “Ah, so was I just never going to find out? I’m your brother and your best friend.”

“Were my best friend,” Y/n clarified quickly. “You left, and I moved on. You were going to find out when you went home and saw the invite in your post. Maybe if you were around more often and noticed the people around you, you would have known a long time ago.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, Charles,” Arthur says as he grabs Y/n’s hand and pulls her toward the exit of the garage where a car just pulled up. “We have reservations for tonight. We’ll see you back in Monaco.”

It was then that Charles realized that he fell in love with his best friend, but she fell in love with his brother instead. Because she’s a teenage heartbreak queen, he decided, and it was just him and his misery from now on.

~~~~~

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fanficimagery · 1 year

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La Reina del Inframundo

When your neighbor goes missing, you call upon your seven deadly sins to help get him back.

Words: 8.6K Author's Note: SURPRISE! Finally have something to post, so here it is a day earlier than normal. This imagine is probably ridiculous, but you know what? Blame the Kingdom of the Wicked series. I wanted my own seven deadly sins lol even if they don't make much of an appearance in here. Sons of Anarchy AU. Title translation: The Queen of the Underworld.

When you were little, you were probably the most spoiled girl you'd ever known. Anything you needed or wanted was yours and you ended up quite ignorant of everything going on around you. You didn't know anything about the family business, only that your daddy was an important man and you had numerous uncles who looked after you. And then you became a teenager, and you understood that not only was your daddy important but he was also dangerous too. Your parents did everything to shield you from the life, but when you and your mother were kidnapped and she was killed, you wanted to know the ins and outs of everything.

Your uncles, only a couple by blood, made sure you knew how to take care of yourself. You learned to fight and how to handle weapons, and learned about other families that were nearly as important as yours. You learned who your allies were and who your enemies were, and far sooner than you had anticipated, you were upgraded from Princess to Queen.

Losing your father made you bitter and you held no remorse for sending your men after those who had a hand in his death. It was your turn to lead the family business as your father's only child, and your father's brothers happily let everyone think they were in charge while you watched everyone and everything from the shadows.

Everyone learned to fear your family name since you were quite bloodthirsty, but as the years slowly passed you learned to take it down a notch. Eventually, you grew tired of having no privacy and decided to move out on your own since no one outside of the men you grew up with knew you were the head of the family business.

You chose Charming since it was quite the picturesque little town, but those who served under you didn't like you being so far away. So, to keep them from dropping by or watching you from afar, you anonymously purchased a large plot of land and let them build another compound and warehouse nearby.

The construction of the compound and warehouse gave you more than enough time to find a suitable house for yourself, and have it remodeled and furnished before you moved in. There was lots of talk around Charming about who was disrupting their usual routine, but no one ever found out anything of importance.

When you finally move into your house, it takes some getting used to. There's no noise, and no men lurking around corners or men coming up to you every half hour to see if you need anything. It feels good to make your own food and have a peaceful meal, and to just laze around to watch some television, but you're still the woman behind the curtain, taking phone calls and attending meetings and making sure everything is on the up and up.

You've been in your new house for a couple of weeks now and there's not been a single problem. At least not until you're in the middle of your shower and your scalding hot water turns unbearably cold. With a shout, you hop on out to try and catch your breath. You give it a few seconds before testing the water with your hand and quickly yank back when it's still cold.

You test the hot water in the bathroom sink, but that too is cold. Pulling on a robe, you head to your kitchen and test the hot water there. Cold. All cold.

With a sigh, you head towards the laundry room where the water heater resides. There's a little blinking light at the bottom that should signify the water heater is working properly, but unfortunately it isn't blinking.

"Son of a-"

You've learned a lot of things, but lighting the pilot light was not one of them. So uncaring for the fact that you're merely in a robe with shampoo still in your hair, you slip your feet into a pair of house slippers and head outside. You look around your neighbors' driveways and find a motorcycle parked at the house next to yours.

Scurrying next door, you knock on the front door. It doesn't take long at all for the door to be opened and you give yourself a moment to take in the tall specimen standing in front of you. Wet hair hangs down past the man's shoulders, water droplets clinging to a full beard, and a towel is wrapped tightly around his waist. Water droplets glisten down a tattooed torso and you have to quickly shake your head clear when you realize you're ogling. "Uh, sorry." You glance up to meet his amused gaze. "I, uh, I live next door. I really hope it's not a bad time, besides the obvious nakedness going on, but I could really use your help if you're not in a time crunch."

He arches an eyebrow at you. "What seems to be the problem?"

"I was in the middle of my own shower when my water heater went out. I checked it and there are no leaks which leads me to believe the pilot light went out. I have no clue how to light it and I'm hoping you do."

"Sure. Let me just…" He trails off as he glances down his body. "Let me get dressed and I'll help you out."

You sag in relief. "Thank you so much."

"You can use my kitchen sink if you wanna rinse your hair. You know, just in case the problem is something else."

"Oh. Yeah, thanks. I would rather rinse with hot water than cold."

The man opens his door further and you step in. "I'm Opie."

"YN. Nice to finally meet one of my neighbors."

He chuckles. "Yeah? Everyone 'round here steers clear."

"Motorcycle that off putting?"

"That and the MC." Walking into the kitchen, he points to a kutte hanging off the back of a chair. Sons of Anarchy. And huh. You've heard of them- heard all about the power struggle within the club, but they stayed off your radar and you theirs.

"What a bunch of pussies," you mumble. But Opie still hears you and he grins some more.

"Sink is clean. There's even a hose you can use. I'll be right back."

"Mhm. Thanks again."

Opie turns to walk away, and you tilt your head to admire his back muscles and tattoos. You bite your bottom lip at what you see, but quickly turn to the kitchen sink less you're busted ogling him again.

Turning on the sink's hot water, you grab the little hose and test it out. When the water is hot, you bend over the sink and flip your hair into it.

It takes you longer than anticipated to rinse out the shampoo in your hair and when you do, you're quick to turn off the water and then wring out as much water from your hair as you can. Letting your hair hang in front of your shoulder and over your chest so the front of the robe soaks up any other water, you find paper towels close by and take one to clean up the sides of the sink and counter where water splashed.

"All good to go?" You startle at the words and whirl around, finding Opie leaning against the doorway as he grins at you. His hair has been pulled back into a knot and a black shirt hugs his torso sinfully tight.

You gulp. "Y-Yeah."

"After you then."

You stumble and mutter a quick, shut up, when he laughs at you. He follows you all the way to your house, shutting the front door behind him and then stepping into your laundry room. "This is it. There's a light that's supposed to be blinking-"

"Yeah. I know. I actually have this same water heater."

"Oh, thank god."

Opie squats down and you watch him hold a knob down while clicking another button. It clicks about fifteen times before the light blinks, and you exhale in relief. "That should do it. If it goes out again on its own, just go ahead and come get me. It'll probably need to be cleaned and I can help with that also."

"Thank you! I really didn't want to have to call my uncles. They didn't want me living on my own and they would have teased me mercilessly if I had to call them so soon."

"I bet." Opie looks you up and down in your robe and your shift nervously. "Well, I'll go ahead and get out of your hair so you can finish your shower or whatever. If you ever need help, you know where to find me now. As long as my bike is out front, I'm home."

You smile as you walk him towards the door. "Thank you so much, Opie. I definitely owe you one."

You watch him until he's halfway between your houses and then shut the door before hurrying back to your bathroom.

And hallelujah! You have hot water once again.

After your first meeting with Opie, you seem to see him all the time when you're out and about. You have a smile and wave for him every time you make eye contact, laughing when his club brothers eye you up and down or whistle appreciatively until Opie shoves them hard enough to shut them up.

The next time you have face to face time with him, however, is when you're on the side of the road trying to replace a flat tire.

"Come. On. You. Sonnuvabitch," you grunt as you try to twist the lug wrench to loosen a lug nut. You've managed to get one off, but the others are proving to be a bitch.

The sound of motorcycle engines approaching has you looking up and down the side of the stretch of road you're on, and you spot two individuals riding closer and closer. Only needing their muscle to loosen the lug nuts since you know how to do the rest, you stand up and wave them down. And when you see them slowing down, angling their bikes to you, you sigh in relief.

One of the men has a very familiar beard and you can't help but smile as they stop right behind your car. "Hey neighbor," you muse when they cut their engines.

Opie pulls off his riding glasses and helmet, settling everything on his handlebars. His friend does the same before they both stand, and Opie offers you a small smile. "What trouble are you in now?"

"I just need your muscles, I swear." You chuckle, nodding at his friend and his too charming grin he throws your way. "The last place I got my car a tune-up at, they tightened the lug nuts too tight. I just need someone to loosen them up really quick and then I can take care of the rest."

"No need to worry that pretty little head of yours, darlin'," Opie's friend says. "I'm sure my boy Ope can take care of it for you." He claps Opie on the shoulders, squeezing and nudging him forward.

Opie's eyes roll. "YN, this is Jax. Jax, this is my neighbor YN."

You and Jax exchange greetings as Opie gets to work on changing your tire for you.

"So, how's that water heater treating you?" Opie asks. "No more naked knocks on other people's doors?"

"Naked knocks?" Jax arches an eyebrow at you.

"First of all, shut up," you tell Jax. And then looking at Opie, you say, "It's working fine. Haven't had a problem since you helped me."

"Good. That's good."

"So where did you come from?" Jax asks.

"From Salinas."

"Yeah? Why Charming?"

You shrug. "When my mom passed, my dad and his brothers raised me. And then my dad passed, and my uncles took my wellbeing a little too seriously. I needed some space from them."

"Pretty sure they're expecting her to throw in the towel any moment now and go crawling back to them," Opie says.

"Exactly." You grin at the biker that's nearly finished with changing your tire for you. "They know I know how to take care of myself, but they're still hoping I fail and call them up. Can you imagine how put out they're going to be when they realize I have a perfectly friendly biker living next door who doesn't mind lending me a hand every once in a while?"

Opie laughs as he lowers your car from the small car jack. He then grabs up the flat tire and carries it to the trunk of your car while Jax grabs up the jack and the lug wrench. Once everything is put away, the men face you as Opie says, "You're all set. If you stop by Teller Automotive, we can get the tire fixed for you and put the spare back in the trunk."

You arch an eyebrow at him. "You work at an auto garage?"

"Try own it," Jax muses. "It's mine. The club runs it," he says while pointing to the President patch on his own kutte.

"Huh. Nice." Then glancing back at Opie, you say, "Well I guess I owe you. Again."

"I'm just racking up those favors, aren't I?"

"Yeah, yeah." You smile as you pull open the driver's side door. "Thank you. I'll, uh, I'll see you around."

The men make their way back to their bikes, but they wait until you drive off before taking their leave as well.

As music blares throughout your room, you mouth along to the lyrics as you ready yourself for a party with the Sons of Anarchy. You had taken your tire to Teller Automotive when you found the time and Opie fixed it up for you like he said he would. Then after putting it back on your car, he made sure your spare was okay before putting it away back in the trunk. Jax tried to refuse payment by saying you get a freebie for being new to Charming, but you weren't having it and bullied the man in his office to take your money.

Needless to say, the Sons were impressed with how you didn't back down.

Jax then extended an invite to their party, and you agreed since you didn't have any plans. Opie tried to tell you that you didn't have to attend because their type of parties usually got out of hand, but you assured him you could handle your own with an all-knowing grin. Jax whooped and Opie looked a little apprehensive but still told you what time to be there.

So here you are, in a backless black bandana tank top and a pair of faded skinny jeans with rips along your thighs and knees. Your makeup has already been applied and your hair straightened, and you readily slip your feet into a pair of chunky heeled Doc Martens. And instead of taking a purse or wallet, you decide to slip your ID and Driver's License into the back of your phone case before slipping it into one pocket while shoving several twenties in the other.

Then after making sure everything is turned off, with the exception of two small lamps in the living room, you lock up your house and head out for the night.

The drive to Teller Automotive isn't that far and you get there fairly quickly. The entire lot is enclosed with a tall chain link fence that has some form of material draped on the inside so you can't see through, so you're not sure where to park, but one of the Sons who's speaking with a woman outside the fence spots you and tells you where to go. After following his directions, you park and get out of your car. Then pocketing your keys, you turn around and take in your surroundings.

There are barrels of fire scattered around the lot, as well as numerous picnic tables and a single boxing ring that has two men going toe to toe inside of it as many spectators cheer on the violence. The auto garage portion of the building is shut down, but the club portion has its bay doors rolled up. As you make your way towards it, you can see a bar and numerous tables scattered about the room. There are a couple of couches and even a pool table, and many scantily clad women working the room.

Chuckling, you enter the club with all the confidence in the world. Immediately you can feel the stares on you- both lecherous and envious- and you make your way towards the bar.

Sitting on the stool across from the bartender, you smile at him. "Can I have a beer? Whatever you have is fine." As the bartender grabs you a beer, you pull a twenty from your pocket and hand it over.

"It's only six bucks."

"Then I'll grab another two throughout the night. Don't worry about any change."

The bartender nods and puts the money away under the counter, and you turn around on your stool. Crossing one knee over the other, you lean back against the bar while taking your first sip of your drink.

"Hey. When'd you get in?" Jax takes the stool next to you and you grin at him.

"Just now. Was taking in the scene before I went looking for familiar faces."

"Ope would have greeted 'ya, but he's currently trying to fend off a couple of sweetbutts."

"Sweetbutts?"

"Women who want to fuck a Son in hopes of him giving her his crow."

You frown. "How does one give someone a crow?"

Jax chuckles. "You know, it's kind of refreshing that you don't know anything about the MC life."

"Yeah, well…" You shrug, trailing off as you take another sip of your beer.

"It can be a good thing or a bad thing," he continues. "Good because we know you ain't looking at Ope just because of his kutte and bad because this life is tough. Especially for the women."

You flash him a grin. "Who said I was lookin' at Opie?"

"Please." Jax huffs. "I put on my best smile for you when he was changing your tire and you only had eyes for him."

"It's the height. And the muscle definition in his back." You sigh wistfully, sipping your beer. "God, his back."

Jax laughs as he grabs himself another beer and you gesture the bartender to give you another. "Well, Ope can use a saving grace whenever you're ready. Don't let anyone push you around."

"Trust me. I won't."

As Jax takes his leave, you meet every woman's glare that had been directed at you because he had chosen to spend a few minutes of his time on you. You give them the most deadpan stare ever until they look away and then smirk as you start in on your second beer. A couple men try their luck with you, but you're quick to reject them before they can get too comfortable. Your gaze occasionally falls back on Opie, and you make your move when you see him drain his beer and the so-called sweetbutts on either side of him lean further into his personal space.

Rolling your eyes, you grab a fresh beer from the bartender and start towards your neighbor. The gathered Sons seem to perk up, making the women on their laps pout, but you only have eyes for Opie.

Coming to a stop in front of him, you smirk as he looks up and the women vying for his attention glare at you. Holding out the new beer to him, you say, "Come on. Let's go get some fresh air."

His lips twitch as he accepts the beer and the woman on his left scoffs. "Excuse me!"

"You're excused."

Opie and his brothers all laugh and then the woman on his right gets bold. "Back off, bitch. Seniority rules here. If you're gonna be a regular, you start at the bottom of the totem pole. Now go clean the toilets or something."

Opie looks offended on your behalf, but you merely laugh as you step so you're directly standing in front of her. "Oh honey, I'm way too pretty to do the toilets. You, on the other hand…" She gasps and leans forward to stand, but you're quick to lift a foot and plant your boot in the middle of her chest. Her eyes widen as you shove her back into her seat and you lean forward as much as you can with your foot pressing against her. "Trust me, you don't wanna go down this road. You think I'm easy prey because this is my first time here but let me assure you that they will not find your body if you decide to piss me off."

"And that's our cue to go." Opie is quick to stand, gently grabbing you by the wrist to tug you away. His brothers all whoop and laugh as the one woman tries to console her friend who had balked at your words. You follow after him as he leads you outside, walking up to a picnic table that he ends up stepping up onto the bench to sit atop the table. You do the same and as you settle side by side, he asks, "So we wouldn't find her body, huh?"

You snort, covering your mouth where beer had dribbled out since he asked the question when you were mid-sip. "What can I say? I'm full of surprises."

"I'll say." Opie takes a pull from his own beer bottle. "So how are you liking the party?"

You shrug. "It's decent." Then you point towards the boxing ring with the neck of your bottle. "You ever get in there?"

"If I ever have any aggression to work out, yeah."

"Most people fuck their aggression out; you fight it out." This time it's Opie's turn to snort his beer and you smirk. "So how are you liking tonight's party? Are the women always so…"

"Slutty?"

"I was gonna say bold."

Opie shakes his head as he chuckles. "Yeah. It's their life's mission to either get knocked up by someone in a kutte or get a crow or a ring."

"That's the second time I heard something about a crow. What is that?" You ask.

Opie looks at you, seeing that you're honestly curious. "In our MC, a crow is a big deal. Bigger than a ring."

"No shit?"

"It's basically the men branding their women as their property."

"Wow," you drawl, completely unimpressed. "The women around here really need to rethink their priorities."

Opie chuckles some more. "So, you're saying you wouldn't get a tattoo for your man?"

"I mean…" You trail off, shrugging. "It all depends on the situation."

"How?"

"Take me and you for example," you say and roll your eyes when Opie smirks. "If we started hooking up and a month or two from now you asked me to get a tattoo personalized for you, I'd say you were out of your damn mind. I'd have to be with someone for years before getting a tattoo dedicated to my partner."

"That's fair." He takes a moment to watch you, watching you take in your surroundings and be at ease in this new environment. "So how was your day?"

"So-so," you say, watching the men duke it out in the ring. "It was a bit of a bore if I'm being honest."

"No work?"

"I work from home." You turn to face him, grinning softly. "I, uh, I have a family-owned private security schtick going on. My uncles work from the office, but I take calls and answer emails at home."

"Does working from home turn a decent profit?"

"I'm living pretty comfortably, so I'd say it does."

Opie doesn't question your answer and then turns back to the fight himself.

For the rest of the night, the two of you keep one another company outside by the fire. You switch to water so you're able to drive home and you learn a little bit more about how the MC handles themselves and the people milling about their territory.

Over the next couple of weeks, you find Opie hanging out at your place more and more. After the faucet at your kitchen sink had deteriorated and leaked beneath the cabinets, Opie installed the new one for you after you bought everything you needed. You repaid him with dinner and a beer, and he just kept showing up after that. Sometimes with Jax or Juice or even Happy who reminded you of some of your uncles.

You've gotten to know each other really well that you have a date-slash-not date planned with him, so you're a little surprised when he doesn't show.

Or answer your call.

Or your text.

You keep listening for a motorcycle, but two days go by and nothing.

On the third day there's a pounding on your front door that immediately has you agitated. You march over to it, yank it open to give whoever it is a piece of your mind, only to gape as Jax marches in.

"Have you heard from Ope?"

"Well hello to you too," you deadpan as you swing the door shut. Sighing, you follow him to the living room where he's pacing.

"I'm being serious here, YN. Have you heard from Ope?"

His worry and tone give you pause, and then immediately sets you on edge. "No. We had plans two days ago, but he never showed up." You frown when you realize how exhausted Jax seems. "What's going on?"

Jax sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Nothing. Don't-"

"Don't tell me not to worry about it," you say. You step in front of him, arms crossed. "I was ready to bitch out Opie the next time I saw him, but then you marched in here all worried and now I'm worried. If he left town on his own, then fine. But if he was taken because of the club-"

"What the hell would you know about club life?" He scoffs.

"Don't get pissy with me, presidente." You snap back at him. "You'd be surprised at what I know."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes." You lightly glare at him, but then the glare softens as you smirk at him. "Weren't you a little bit skeptical at how easily I made myself comfortable at your parties? How I didn't cower to your women or how I stood up to the men who tried their luck?"

Jax tenses. "Who are you?"

"A friend, I hope." Jax frowns and you sigh. "Look. I didn't come to Charming looking for trouble. I didn't plan on Opie being my neighbor or getting to know you guys. In fact, I just wanted to fly under the radar, but you guys… you guys threw a wrench into everything."

"Who do you work for?"

You scoff. "I don't work for anyone."

"What the hell is going on here, YN?" Jax wonders, getting annoyed. "I'm confused as shit right now and my brother is missing and-"

"Hey." You step right into his space, reaching up to lightly pat the side of his face as you stare up at him. "I can help you look for him, but you're gonna need to trust me. I know this is MC business, but if you want Opie found then you're gonna have to spill."

"This isn't going to bite me on the ass?"

"Nope. In fact, I'm pretty sure you'll benefit from it. Now what do you say?" You hold a hand out to him. "If you say you trust me, you have to tell me exactly what's going on. The nitty gritty details won't ever be repeated from my lips."

Jax takes a moment to think about it before throwing caution to the wind and grasping your hand. "Fine. We have a deal."

"Good." Pulling out your phone with your other hand, you press on the name that's saved in your first favorite slot. It rings twice before the call is answered. "Gather my favorite sins and send them to my house. Discreetly. Someone important to me was taken and I am not happy."

You disconnect the call and Jax just stares at you. "Your favorite sins? What the fuck was that about?"

But you merely smile at him. "Congratulations, Mr. Teller. Sons of Anarchy are now under my protection so long as you don't do stupid shit."

"Your protection?"

"You'll see. Now talk. I need to figure out an abbreviated version to tell my sins when they get here."

Jax arches an eyebrow. "Your sins?"

"Yes. Now speak."

Jax huffs but takes a seat on the edge of your couch, spilling everything. You're familiar with turf wars and kidnappings and torture, and the more Jax speaks the more unsettled you are for Opie. The issue, however, is an old grievance another MC has with the Sons. They'd been spotted around town for the past week, keeping the Sons on their toes and making the Sons chase them out of town. But the Sons were split in all sorts of directions and Opie never came back.

Jax is in the middle of telling you possible locations of where Opie might be when the back door to your house opens. He pauses and immediately reaches for his gun, but you put a hand on his wrist and put a finger to your mouth to tell him to be quiet. "Let me do the talking. It'll be fine."

Jax hesitantly relaxes, but then he tenses right back up when man after man files into your living room. Each one is wearing dark jeans and a dark jacket with its hood pulled up, but when the hoods fall, he's treated to every man's face tattooed to look skeletal. "What the…"

Each man takes a stand around the room, only having eyes for you as they completely ignore Jax. "Listen up. Opie Winston is the man that was taken." You pull out your phone, pulling up a picture you snapped of him before holding your phone up- screen out- so your men can see. "He's my neighbor and has been nothing but kind to me. I've grown very fond of him."

One of your men (Pride) quietly huffs but you still hear him as he mutters, "Seems like our queen has found herself a king."

"¡Cállate!" You snap at him. "His club president has kindly offered up who took him and possible locations of where they might be keeping him, but they can't get close. I need you to find Opie and bring him back safely. Anyone involved in his kidnapping is to be brought in as well. I want them to see what happens when you take something or someone I deem important from me." After telling them what they need to know, your men all nod and you smirk before letting them go. "Now that you're caught up, you're dismissed. Happy hunting."

The men take their leave from the same door they walked in through and then you turn to Jax who has an eyebrow arched at you in amusement. "Queen, huh? And let me guess, those were the seven deadly sins?"

"Yes. Pride, Greed, Lust, Envy, Gluttony, Wrath, and Sloth are my best crew. Now call off your boys and have them go back to the club. The last thing we need is them shooting at my sins."

"Fuck. You're right." Jax pulls out his own phone to call his boys off. You watch him as he sends out the text and then he stands as if ready to leave.

"Sorry if I overstepped by calling dibs on the men who took Opie."

"Don't be." He smirks at you now. "I'm kind of curious to see what you're capable of. And I totally called it. You have the hots for Opie. Happy's gonna be so disappointed."

You roll your eyes a little and you hand Jax your phone. "Put your number in. I'll call you when we have your boy back."

"Don't you mean our boy?"

"Shut up." You laugh and then reclaim your phone after he's done what you asked. "And just so you know, if there's more than one man they bring in, only one of them gets to walk so he's able to warn his club that Sons of Anarchy are now under my protection."

"You're that confident, huh?"

"You have no idea. Now get outta here, but don't tell your other boys about me."

"Why not?"

"Because I enjoy making an entrance."

Jax laughs as he walks out of your house. "If you manage to find Ope, you'll be my new favorite person."

"Yeah, yeah."

For the past day and a half, you've reclaimed your throne at the compound and established with your tios that you were coming out of the shadows. They didn't fight you on the decision and, in fact, they might have even encouraged you to see where things went with the missing Son since you needed someone by your side.

You've been in contact with Jax, keeping him updated, but you've yet to update him of the latest development.

Opie was found along with four bikers who'd been guarding him.

You're anxious to tell Jax, but you want to get Opie settled and cleaned up before calling in his brothers. So, to kill time, you go ahead and get dressed.

You strip down to your panties right there in your room, pulling on a blazer and buttoning it closed beneath your bust so your cleavage is on display. You even have to place some double-sided sticky tape so there are no nip slips while you put on a show. Then you find yourself a pair of leather pants that you manage to wiggle into and a pair of stilettos that make you feel powerful as you walk around in a room full of men.

You're adding a couple pieces of jewelry here and there when you get the text that Opie is there. You finish getting ready and then walk out to where you know they're holding him, and grin when you hear him cursing up a storm.

"Who the fuck even are you guys? If you really are my rescuers, why can't I leave?"

"That… would be because of me," you muse as you step into the room.

Opie's head whips in your direction and your smile drops when you see the black eye, the gash above his eyebrow and on the bridge of his nose, and the busted lip. Even his hands look like they have some damage, and his clothes are bloodied.

"YN?"

"In the flesh." You walk closer to him, hesitantly reaching out to him in case he balks from your touch, but he doesn't. You touch his hair, frowning to find crusted blood clumping the strands together. "And to think I thought you stood me up."

"Nope. I was just being held hostage. Still am."

You offer him a grin. "You're not a hostage here, Opie. I swear. Now come on." You offer him a hand. "Come with me so you can get cleaned up and changed. I'll call Jax and the others, and then I'll deal with those assholes who had you."

"You? You're gonna deal with them?"

"Yep. Got Jax's blessing and everything. Now let's go. I had to sneak into your house to grab you some clothes, so you might as well put them to use."

Opie laughs and then groans, clutching at his ribs. You rub his shoulder until the pain passes and when he stands you grab his hand. Mentally cheering when he doesn't pull away, you lead him back to your bedroom so he can use your private shower.

Opie looks around your room while you grab his bag from the closet and then show him to the bathroom. You try not to grin when you see him taking it all in and then leave him be. You pull out your phone to text Jax the directions to the compound and that they'd be let in upon arrival, and then settle in front of your vanity.

Whenever you've done business with those who opposed what you and your family have done or tried to claim your notoriety for themselves, you've always presented yourself a certain way. Your makeup was half and half, half normal and half skeletal, which is why your favorite sins have tattooed themselves that way. So as Opie showers, you get started on wiping off half your makeup before blending white and black face paint along your features.

It surprisingly doesn't take you long to get your makeup done, so you take a seat on the edge of your bed to wait for Opie to be done. A handful of minutes later, the bathroom door opens and Opie steps out. He freezes when he sees you and you smirk at him. "Come take a seat. We need to talk."

Rubbing the towel over his hair one last time, Opie tosses it back into your bathroom before padding barefoot towards you. As he sits, he asks, "Who are you?"

"I'm YN. You know that."

"You're clearly a very important person to have so many men working under you."

Grinning at him, you shrug. "I was my father's only heir. His business became my business."

"You said you worked in private security."

"Yeah. We do that too, but in the underground- in the underworld- we do so much more. They call me La Reina de Inframundo."

"Which means?"

"Queen of the Underworld."

Opie huffs and you hesitantly reach for his hand, clasping it between two of your own. "Why'd you go through so much trouble for me?"

"Because you were kind to me." He scoffs this time, and you angle your body towards him. "I'm serious. You had no idea about my reputation and treated me like any other woman that wasn't actively trying to get into your pants. You were kind and you became my friend, and I- I might have grown overly fond of you."

"Only might?" You roll your eyes with a slight huff and stand, but Opie is quick to catch you by the wrist and pull you in so you're standing between his parted knees. "Oh, I think you're pretty fond of me if you went through all this trouble."

"Fine. I like you, but I'm also aware about how the men of MC's work. And I just want to assure you right now, no matter what happens between you and me, I will have the Sons' back. I've never had a sibling, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't want one if they're anything like Jax or Juice."

Opie grins at your joke. "Been keeping in contact with them?"

"Jax, yes. Juice just thought I needed to be checked up on for some reason. I guess he assumed I'd be a sobbing mess without you around or something."

"...thank you."

"You don't need to thank me, Ope." You reach for his face, gently cradling it in the palms of your hands before smoothing his hair back as his arms wrap around the small of your back. "You'd have done the same for me if I'd gone missing."

His smile immediately vanishes as his gaze darkens and his arms squeeze you tighter which brings you closer to him. And honestly, you quite like the feeling of being in his arms. "They'd be dead if they'd taken you."

"Likewise." His brow furrows and you wrinkle your nose at him. "Look at you all adorable and clueless," you coo. You lean down and press a kiss to his forehead. "Those men outside signed their own death certificates the moment they kidnapped you. They just don't know it yet."

"You're gonna kill them?"

"You'll see. Now put your shoes on. Your boys should be here by now and they're probably itching to pull a gun. Go keep them calm."

As Opie looks for socks and shoes, you walk over to your bedside table and pull open the drawer. Pulling out your gun, you make sure it's loaded before sliding into your waistband at the small of your back and then situating the back of your blazer over it. When you turn back around, Opie's staring at you with an arched eyebrow. You merely grin and shoo him out the door, telling him you'd be out there soon.

You give him a minute to find his way and then head out yourself, keeping to the shadows. Then when you get to the main room, you move to the darkest corner and watch everyone. The Sons of Anarchy stand off to one side as they look over Opie with your sins and tios on the other, and in the middle are the four bikers the sins had taken and bound to chairs.

"What the fuck is this?" One of the bound bikers scoffs. "Have the Sons turned into pussies that let a new crew handle their business?"

All the Sons, with the exception of Jax and Opie, bristle at the insult. Happy and Tig look like they're on a very short leash and would like nothing more than to tear apart the men limb by limb, but Jax keeps them in line.

"That's what I thought. Pussies."

Happy and Tig lunge, but Jax and Juice keep their brothers back. Opie mutters about it not being worth it and once it quiet, you take that as your cue.

Walking forward, you keep your head held high and let the click!, click!, click!, of your heels put the room on edge. The men part and it takes a moment for a majority of the Sons to recognize you. Jax gapes and then smirks, nudging Opie who shakes his head at his brother.

"What the fuck is this?" Tig asks.

"Our new ally," Jax muses.

Walking up to the bound four men, you arch an eyebrow at them. The mouthy one scoffs yet again as he takes you in. "You idiots made a mistake," you say. "You took someone I care about and I don't take that lightly." Reaching for the small of your back, you pull free your gun and grip it tight.

"Ha. I'm sure under that stupid makeup you're nothing but a pretty face, so why don't you strut that perky ass of yours back out of the room and let the grown men talk."

His companions all chuckle and you allow yourself to sarcastically laugh with them before aiming your gun and pulling the trigger. The laughing immediately ceases, and their expressions all morph into shock as their mouthy companion's head slumps backwards. You smirk. "Only one of you will walk out of here, so the more you mouth off the faster you will die."

The remaining three men struggle against their binds, and you giggle at their fear.

"Holy shit," Happy utters. Your gaze darts to him and you smirk as you watch him take in your tios and your sins. When his gaze darts back to you, he says, "La Reina del Inframundo."

You bend at the waist, arms sweeping out to the side as you mockingly bow. "At your service."

"What the fuck is that?" Tig asks, glancing between his brother and you. "Not all of us speak spanish, Hap."

"Queen of the Underworld," Jax answers. He saunters up to your side, nudging your elbow with his own. "Isn't that right?"

"Sí." Then losing your smile, you walk closer to the bound men, pacing back and forth in front of them. "So, this is what's going to happen. One of you is going back to your president and letting him know that the Sons are under La Reina's protection."

"Who is going back?" Another bound individual asks. He looks between his other bound brothers, throwing them under the bus. "I'll tell you whatever it is you want to know."

You slowly grin at him and then raise your gun, putting a bullet between his eyes. "No me gustan las ratas (I don't like rats)." One of the remaining two flinches and whimpers, and you put a bullet in his head too. The last remaining individual keeps his gaze straight ahead and though you see his bottom lip tremble, you let him live. "And it looks like we have a winner."

Your men and the Sons all chuckle.

"Untie him, Envy. Greed and Wrath, I need you two to drive him out to the middle of nowhere. Let him find his own way back home."

As the man is untied, he hesitantly stands while rubbing his wrist. "So, I'm free to go? Just like that?"

"Just a little like that." Before he can question you, you put a bullet in his right knee. He shouts in both pain and surprise, and you grin. "Now you're free to go."

Greed and Wrath stalk forward, grabbing the guy's arms and dragging him out of the room. You don't need to utter a word as other men under your rule step forward, untying the dead bodies and getting them out of there as well.

Looking towards the Sons, you gesture for them to follow. "I have a bar upstairs. It's about to smell like bleach down here, so unless you're into that…"

As you start walking, you grab Opie's hand and tug him after you. You hear Jax chuckle, but soon enough they all start to follow.

Upstairs sits one of your favorite rooms. A sleek mahogany bar runs the length of the side wall, the wall behind it lit up and showcasing every bottle of liquor in stock. There's a clear refrigerator that's stocked with several brands of beer and you even have a few on tap. There are a cluster of couches for those decompressing talks, as well as round tables and chairs for the rowdier gatherings. And for entertainment, there are two dart boards and a pool table.

"Pick your poison, boys. Pride will get you whatever you want so long as we have it."

As the Sons gladly make their way to the bar, Opie stays by your side. He tugs you closer, tucking you into his side and he presses his lips to your temple as your arm wraps around the small of his back. "What is it with naming your men after the seven deadly sins?"

"When I took over, I needed a crew of my very own who would be loyal to me and me only. All my men are obviously loyal, but some have a family of their own who will always be number one to them," you say as you glance up at him. "I get it, I do, but I wanted those who would put me first. My seven deadly sins do that."

As Opie stares down at you, you feel the tension between the two of you amping up. It's always been there, ever since the two of you started hanging out, but neither of you ever acted on it. But as his eyes dart to your lips and your hand finds its way under his shirt so you can stroke the skin of his hip, you know it's inevitable that this friendship is destined to be something more.

"I hate to be a cockblock," you hear Jax muse, "but how exactly is all this going to work out?" You and Opie both exhale in annoyance, glancing at his club president who's smirking between the two of you. "Not that I'm not grateful for the Queen's protection, but we can't be seen as pussies."

"And you won't be," you say. "The Sons of Anarchy will still operate as you have been. I don't care about your club business. But seeing as I've unfortunately grown fond of a few members, I will be on the sidelines waiting to put a bitch in a ditch should they cross a line."

"And what do you consider crossing a line?" Jax asks.

"Any unprovoked kidnappings and/or torture. If you're doing business and you piss someone off, that's on you. But if anyone comes around sniffing around Charming, pushing buttons to see what the response will be, I will set my sins loose."

Jax looks around at his men, gauging their reactions. No one seems to have a word to argue against you and he comes to a conclusion pretty fast. "I can work with that."

"That's what I like to hear." You slowly smile and then smother a laugh when Juice raises a hand. "Yes?"

"What exactly does the queen of the underworld do?"

"Now that's a secret, Mr. Ortiz." You wink at him. "All the prominent families of the underworld are interconnected in a way that I can't explain to you. As of right now, I keep the peace. Or force it if need be." As you smirk, you see Juice shrink down onto a bar stool. "I also make sure the most prominent families aren't murdering anyone without cause."

"When you first came into power, you were the most feared," Happy says. "Why?"

As you look at the man, your smirk slowly vanishes. "Some of the low-class families were looking to make a name for themselves. They waited until my father was at his most vulnerable and killed him in cold blood. They ripped my heart out that day. So, when I took my father's place, I hunted each and every one of them down, and did to them what they did to me."

"Which was?" Juice asks, hanging off your every word.

"I carved their hearts and delivered them to their head of house."

"Holy shit."

No one knows what to say to that, so Jax makes use of the pool table. They crowd around the pool table and dart boards, laughing and enjoying the beer you've offered them. Some of your men even come on up, grabbing themselves a beer and mingling with the Sons.

You feel yourself being led to one of the couches by Opie and then tugged down on his lap. Sitting sideways, you cross one knee over the other and wrap your arms loosely around his neck. "Well, aren't you being a little bold tonight."

Arms around your waist, Opie tugs you closer and lightly drags his nose along your jawline to your ear. "I just watched a beautiful woman avenge my kidnapping and beating." As he moves lower, you tilt your head to give him more access to your neck, shivering when his beard tickles the area. "I think it's time we stop tiptoeing around each other and just take what we want."

"Hmm. And what do you want, Ope?"

"You."

His teeth nip at your neck, and you quietly groan, moving to capture his lips with your own. Opie gives you a moment- a moment!- to control the kiss and then he's manhandling you on his lap so you're straddling him. As your hands delve into his hair to get a good grip on, his hands slide down your ass until he grasps the back of your thighs to hitch you right where he wants you.

The wolf whistles hardly faze you and you take your time enjoying what Opie's offering you.

It isn't until you hear the chanting of, "El rey, el rey, el rey (king, king, king)," that you pull yourself back from Opie's mouth and glance at your men who stop chanting and immediately explode into cheers and whistles.

"Uhh.. what's going on?"

You glance back at Opie, taking a moment to laugh at your skeleton makeup that's smeared onto half his face, before wiping it off and explaining, "They've been patiently waiting for their reina to find her rey. Outside this compound you might be a Son, but within this compound you're about to become King." Opie slightly gapes and you wiggle your eyebrows at him. "Congratulations, Mr. Winston. Life is about to become a lot more interesting."

#opie winston x reader #opie x reader #opie winston imagine #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy fanfiction #opie winston fanfiction #sons of anarchy #opie winston #jax teller #happy lowman #juice ortiz

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cowboybarzy · 11 months

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unexpected part 3 — mat barzal

tbh I didn’t realize how popular this was with you guys which is why I didn’t hurry to write this next part. but if y’all really love it and give me your thoughts (& even ideas on how to continue) I’m definitely willing to write more!!

word count: 4k

I’m just gonna make this part of my summer series bc they did travel and it gives me an excuse (to literally my brain lol) to post this part now! an insta edit will follow shortly! come along the rest of the trip

📍vancouver, canada with mat barzal this is part of the unexpected series, so if you want to see how we got to this point, read PART ONE and TWO

June

"Sshh, sshh. It's okay, it's okay." Mat's soft voice woke you from a short, but deep sleep. You turned as your eyes fluttered open to see him sat up against the headboard soothing your baby girl. "I'm here. You're okay."

Your hand reached up to cradle her tiny head. "She might be hungry. What time is it?"

"Almost four. It hasn't been that long since you last fed her. But look, she's already falling back asleep." His smile grew and you sat up as well to see her eyes slowly closing. "She's so cute."

"She is." You kissed her head and then leaned against Mat's shoulder. "And so big. One month already."

"It went by so fast. I don't want her to grow up."

The last month since you baby girl, Myla, was born was the most stressful and tiring but also the most beautiful and exciting time. The new sleeping schedule was difficult to adjust to and your recovery was harder than expected. People really should talk about it more. But getting to experience both you and Mat become parents and your baby explore the world was indescribable. She already outgrew her newborn sized clothes and loved being awake looking around the room. She loved sleeping in her stroller while you took her on walks, where you and Mat stopped to get ice cream or coffee. Both of your families had come to visit, too, and of course all of your friends. They loved her and you were so grateful for the amazing support system.

Mat's season had ended a couple of days after Myla's birth, but not after his birthday which you unfortunately had to spend apart. But he was home now and took such good care of the both of you. Although the three of you did spend a lot of time in bed, you made it a goal to go outside for walks at least a few times a week. Your family didn't live far so they were able to visit and you even went to visit them a few times when you felt brave enough to leave the house.

"Oh, my god!" Mats voice brought you back to consciousness. You hadn't realized you were falling back asleep on his shoulder until his voice brought you back.

"What?"

"She pooped. Did you not hear that? That was gr– Oh! Ew! Babe, it's leaking out." He started panicking, then gagged as he held her away from his body. "What do I do? What do I do?"

You laughed, falling back into the pillows as you watched him struggle for what his next move should be. "Babe! This is so gross! Help me!"

"Well, go change her!" You watched him, still laughing, as he carried her with extended arms, trying not to gag again. "It doesn't even smell. There's only one baby in this room and it's not her."

He started undressing her, groaning from the mess she had made. "Oh my god, it's everywhere. How? How is her stomach so big to hold that much?"

You got up to see for yourself, making sure beforehand to take a video of Mat trying to handle this situation. "Yeah, we should give her a bath. That is pretty bad."

"It's the middle of the night!"

"So? She's dirty." You laughed patting him on the shoulder. "Welcome to parenthood."

At one month old, babies couldn't laugh yet, but the noises she made could definitely count as it. So you prepped her bathtub. She was small enough to do it in the sink, so it didn't take long to fill the tub with the right temperature water. When Mat put her in, she started screaming. She hated baths for the most part, but unfortunately she had to get through it. She calmed down after a while, enjoying the little massage you were giving her to get her clean. Mat put his arm around you and kissed the top of your head.

"You know, a year ago I definitely would not have imagined us doing this at 4 a.m., but I wouldn't change it for the world."

July

"Ugh, she's so cute."

"So adorable."

"Her little nose. And those cheeks."

"I love her so much," you said, not being able to look up from where your daughter was sleeping in her stroller. You stood around her with Mat's sister and mother, just staring at her. You were supposed to go on a walk to go get lunch, but for some reason (a very cute and sleeping reason) you still hadn't left yet.

"Me, too. Watch out I might steel her," Liana said jokingly. She hugged you tightly. "Thank you for making me an auntie. I thought I'd have to wait for years."

"You almost had to." You didn't want to call your daughter an accident, because she truly was a blessing, but let's not pretend you were trying to become parents. You both tried to contain your laughs, as their mother was right there.

"Okay, let's go," Nadia broke you two up and took ahold of the stroller, before walked out of the house. You followed her, Liana fighting her mother for the right to push the stroller.

A couple days ago, Mat, Myla, and you made it up to Vancouver to spend a few weeks with his family. Myla just turned two months a few days ago and you finally felt comfortable enough to fly with her. A lot of family and friends came over to see her, but things had finally calmed down a bit.

"So, any wedding plans?," Liana asked, after you had made it to the restaurant and the food arrived.

You raised your eyebrows, a small laugh escaping. "How long have you been waiting to ask me that?" She laughed. "Since last time!" And that was about a year ago when you had told her you were pregnant. Mat shut her down immediately, saying you'd wait until after she was born. "Well...?"

"I don't know," you answered. "We haven't really thought about it."

"Oh, come on. You need to get married! For her and for me!" You laughed and her mother elbowed her. "What? I know it's selfish, but please! It would be the most beautiful wedding, I just know it."

She started gushing about her dream wedding for you, detailing everything from flowers to venue to table cloths. Her mother chimed in, equally as excited about the idea. Normally you would have been too, but for some reason the idea of a big wedding didn't seem exciting to you anymore.

And that's what you told Mat later that night when you were ready to go to sleep while feeding Myla. "Your sister, well and mom, are already making wedding plans, just so you know."

He rolled his eyes. "How many times have I told them it's none of their business?"

Myla was done eating, so you handed her over to Mat so he could burp her. "It's fine. It was kind of fun to talk about and see everything we could come up with. But funnily enough, all my life I've dreamed of a big wedding like that, even just a few months ago I would have agreed to it. But now, I don't know, I don't really want that anymore."

"Really?" You looked up at his green eyes.

"Yeah, I don't know. I'd rather have a small thing, with just family and our closest friends. And baby Myla of course."

"That sounds good to me." He leaned to kiss your forehead with a smile and cradled your baby's head.

"Wanna get married? Might as well, we already have a kid." You said it with a laughing tone, expecting him to laugh as well or brush the topic off like you had done since he first asked you about getting married. But he didn't. He jumped out of bed, put Myla in her bassinet, and left the room.

You sat there, shocked. You didn't expect that reaction as well. You were serious about getting married. A couple weeks after Myla had been born you realized that you were being silly before. Of course you wanted to marry him and you knew that he loved you and didn't stay with your just before the baby.

Thankfully, before you could process what just happened, Mat came back and sat back down next to you. "I'm the one that gets to ask that question!," he said, which is when you noticed the little red box in his hand. You mouth opened in shock. Now that, you definitely also didn't expect. "What? You really think I didn't got out and get you a ring after you said no the first time? Please, you can't get rid of me."

"Mat..." He smiled, cupping your cheeks with his big hands before kissing you softly.

"Baby? Do you want to marry me? I don't care about the big wedding anymore either. We literally could go down to city hall tomorrow and do it there. I don't care. I just want you and baby Myla. Now will you please do me the honor of not rejecting me for the millionth time and finally saying yes to being my wife?"

"You are such a jerk," you said as the tears rolled down your face. You were still pretty hormonal and you had a feeling it wouldn't go away. "But yes, I'll marry you."

"Finally." He pressed his lips against yours for a deep kiss that had you falling back against the mattress. But you couldn't fully enjoy the moment for very long, before baby Myla made herself known. You got her out and held her in your arms, soothing her, while Mat held you close to his body pressing tiny kissed against your head.

"Ok, let me see the ring," you whispered when your baby girl calmed and started drifting into sleep. Mat opened the box with a chuckle, as your moth fell open.

"Like it?" You nodded and held your hand out for him to slip the ring on. While it didn't fit as well as it would have pre-pregnancy, at least you were assured that it wouldn't randomly fall off. "Kind is weird that we're doing this at my parents house, but I'll take what I can get. It's your fault though."

"Wha- Why?"

"I was scared as hell to propose to you again. I didn't want to be rejected again."

"Mat, I didn't reject you. I just– I didn't want to get married while pregnant." He cupped your face again with a chuckle.

"I know, I know. I'm just joking." He kissed you over and over again, until you realized that Myla was asleep and you could put her back in her bed.

Mat pulled you on his chest as you both laid down. "Wait, were you kidding about city hall tomorrow?," you asked, keeping your voice low.

"Not really. You wanna do it?" You looked up at him and shrugged.

"Kind of." You both smiled wide. "But wait, no. My family. I want them there."

"Okay, well we could ask them to come here? Or would you rather wait and do it back in New York?"

"Here is good." You fell in love with Vancouver the minute you got out of the airport the first time you came, so getting married here was not an issue for you. "Yeah, I'll just ask my family and some friends if and when they'd be available to come up."

"Okay. We can just invite people and whoever can make it, can make it. If not, then we can always have another little something in New York." You nodded, excitement filling your body.

"But if we're inviting a bunch of people, we can't do it at city hall."

"There's lots of parks and venues around here."

"Or your parents back yard?" You both thought about it for a second, then Mat smiled.

"Yeah, i think they'd be cool with that."

You both giggled excitedly, then he pulled you fully on top of him. "Are we seriously getting married in a few days?"

"Unless you don't want to," you responded.

"You are never ever getting rid of me."

August 2nd

It was wedding day. After a crazy busy 10 days, the day was finally here.

When you had told Mat's family the news the day after you got engaged, they were very excited. His sister screamed so loud, she scared the baby but you couldn't go soothe her since she had you trapped in a massive bear hug. She immediately started planning and listing everything you would need. Everyone was involved in making flowers arrangements, cooking and baking for the party, and getting the house ready to host a wedding.

Your family got to Vancouver a few days before the wedding, also helping greatly. Once your best friends arrived as well, it was time to shop for a dress. While there wasn't much so last minute, you found the perfect simple little dress that you absolutely fell in love with. You even found a little white dress for Myla at a baby store near by.

"Thank you so much for coming." You hugged Sydney Martin tight, then her husband.

"Wouldn't miss this for the world." She smiled and you hugged her again. She had been very supportive and your closest friend during your pregnancy. Since she'd already been through it twice, and none of your friends had experience in that department, you spent a lot of time together. You were so grateful for her and were very thankful she could make it to your wedding.

While both you and Mat felt bad about getting married so last minute and therefore not having all of your friends present, having the ceremony now did feel right to the both of you. And that was all that mattered. And even still with short notice, a lot more of your friends than you expected could make it. With Mat's family, yours and your friends, your guest count was almost up to 50. So lots of people to celebrate your love, but still more intimate than a big wedding you almost had.

You spent the morning of you wedding setting up the tables and decorating everything. Around two, guests started arriving and since you treated this as more of a party, you had time to greet most everybody before having to get ready.

"Alright, time to get dressed." Liana came walking and grabbed your hand.

"Wait." Before she had a chance to pull you away, you turned to Mat to give him a kiss. He reciprocated with a smile. "See you on the other side."

"Love you." He winked, then slapped your ass, before turning back to his friend group.

You made another pit stop to grab your daughter from her grandparents to have her with you while you got ready. Your makeup base was done so all you added was some eyeshadow and eyeliner, while your best friend did your hair. Another friend made sure to take lots of pictures and videos of your day. You fed Myla one more time before handing her back off to your mom, who was going to watch her today so you and Mat could enjoy the day without worrying about her. Then it was time to put on your dress.

"Aw, babe, you look gorgeous."

"Stun-ning!"

Your closest girlfriends friends quickly came to hug and admire you, before posing for a few more pictures.

"Okay! Go time!" Liana, who basically acted as your wedding planner, called when it turned three o'clock. She pulled you into a quick hug. "Ready?"

You nodded, already on the verge of tears when reality started hitting you. You were about to marry your best friend.

"Good, because I am so ready to have you as my sister-in-law." She kissed your cheek and then started getting everyone ready and into position. You kissed your sleeping daughter one last time, then followed everyone downstairs to the backyard, where you were holding the ceremony and party.

Through the windows, you could see the garden beautifully decorated and everybody sitting outside waiting for it to start. You could also see Mat, standing below the flower arch at the end of the aisle, with his best friend and best man Anthony standing next to him as they talked and joked around.

Your mom walked out to find her seat and as soon as Mat saw Myla sleeping in her arms, his eyes lit up. He took her from your mom, gently as to not wake her, and pressed tiny kisses to her chubby cheeks. Your eyes got watery again, watching them and knowing that the overwhelming happiness you felt right now would not go away anytime soon.

The music got a bit louder which was your cue to head outside. Your bridesmaids walked before you, down the shirt aisle you had just helped built this morning. Then you followed, slowly, scared to trip, but not too slow as you were eager to get to Mat.

Mathew. Who looked even more handsome than you though possible, standing at the end of the aisle with that wide goofy grin of his. As you got closer though, you could see his eyes sparkling with tears.

"You look beautiful," he mouthed and stretched his hand out for you to take. You took it, immediately feeling calmer. You looked over to where Myla was sleeping in her carrier and with a reassuring nod from your mom that she was alright, you turned your full attention back to Mat.

And Anthony who in addition to being best man was also officiating your wedding. Over the past few years that you've known Beau, he also became one of your closest friends and you couldn't be happier to have him as Mylas goddaughter and now here to marry your number one best friend.

For the entirety of the ceremony, you felt like you were in a bubble. Only Mat and you. Holding hands. "When I look at the time we've been together,

I always have a smile on my face. Through all the ups and downs we've been through, the one thing that has remained constant is my love for you. The love I feel for you has gone from wild and free to me enjoying the little things about you like going for a walk, seeing your face across a breakfast table, and even changing disgusting poopy diapers in the middle of the night. Love you, My," he said after a pause. You both looked at her with a laugh, still sleeping in her carrier.

"We have years ahead of us but when I look at the years that has passed my heart grows with such love for you that I ache. You are the most amazing partner and the most amazing mama to Myla. You're it and nothing is gonna keep us apart. I love you and always will."

Thankfully, before Mat even began his speech your made of honor handed you a tissue or your makeup would be ruined by now by the tears streaming down your face. 'Love you,' you whispered as you held your hand to his cheek. He smiled, with a quivering lip, and whispered it back. He took your hand and slipped diamond covered ring on your finger. Then you cleared your throat a couple of times and prepared to speak.

"Maty, you're my best friend. Ever since you flashed me that goofy grin of yours, I was gone for you. And I am so lucky you chose me to be on your team. And I promise you that I will choose you as my teammate. I choose you again and again. At the start and finish of every single day, no matter the season no matter the year. I choose you to struggle and succeed with, to fight and make up with, to love and grow old with.

And while I may have to send you to the sin bin sometimes, just know that I'll always be on your side and you can always count on me.

Seeing you grow and become the best father to our newest team member has been the biggest blessing. I am so proud you of. I hope I can make you just as proud. I love you and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

With shaking hands, it was your turn to slip a ring on Mat's finger. You didn't hear another word until Beau said those magic words: 'you may now kiss your bride'. And he did. Those big hands grabbed the sides of your face and pulled you into him until your lips met. He started out softly, but soon enough he was breathlessly while your friends and family clapped and cheered in the background.

********

You were married. An indescribable feeling floated through you all day, every since you walked down the aisle. Your ring glistened in the Vancouver sun that was starting to set as you chatted with your friends. You friend circle had shrunk every since you found out you were pregnant, a lot of your friends keeping distance and not keeping in touch as much anymore. You didn't blame them. You were still very young and a lot of them weren't ready to settle down or even be surrounded by people that weren't able to go out and get drunk every weekend. You didn't blame them because it took you a few months too to adjust to the idea of being a mother, but it made you even more grateful for the few friends that did stick around. They made you feel so special and supported during your pregnancy and even now they were already the best aunties for baby Myla.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Mat walking towards you, holding Myla. That sight would never not blow you away and make you feel all warm inside. "This little lady is hungry." He held her out to you and you welcomed her with with cuddles and lots of kisses.

"Where were you?," you asked him as you got ready to feed your daughter.

"I just went to change her. I saw my mom take her in, but I wanted to do it." He answered you puzzled expression, "What? I've barely seen her today. I just wanted to spend a few minutes with her."

Your heart warmed and you leaned into his shoulder. But your moment didn't last very long as the party was already in full swing and people kept coming over to talk to you. You went back to talking to your friends as Mat got pulled away by his.

After Myla was done eating, you decided to put her down for bed and once again tracked Mat down to let him know. "Hey, I'm putting her down." He was sitting with a bunch of his teammates that were able to make it out here who all fawned over baby Myla.

"Come on! Just let me hold her," Oliver whined, stretching his arms out, but Mat slapped them away.

"Absolutely not!" Most of his teammates got to hold her when you first introduced her to them, but Wally was not one of them. He joked around too much around her and was untrustworthy around babies. Those were Mat's words, not yours. He was obviously very protective of his daughter if he wouldn't let his own teammate hold her.

"I won't drop her! Please? Oh, see! She's looking at me," Wally tried again while the rest of you laughed.

"Yeah, she's trying to tell you to shut up. It's not happening." While he was mostly serious, there were joking tones in Mat's voice. You definitely thought they were all just messing with him, so you stayed out of it.

"Hey! Daddy Barz said no, so it's a no," the other Matt (with two Ts) chimed in in his best dad voice, to which your Mat gave him nod of his head.

"That's right."

You rolled your eyes at their banter. "Alright, I'm really putting her down now." Mat stood, but leaned down to where you were holding Myla in your arms so that he could kiss her little head over and over again.

"Good night, princess. I love you." Then he straightened and put his lips on your. "And I love you, wife."

"Love you more, husband."

#mat barzal #unexpected series #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #travel with me summer 23 #mathew barzal #mat barzal fluff #dad!mat #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fics #nhl blurb #nhl insta edit #new york islanders #anthony beauvillier

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dulcewrites · 7 months

Text

New Traditions

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x afab!reader

Summary: As the first holiday season in your new home approaches, Rhett and you start new traditions and make promises (wc: 3k)

Warnings/Fic notes: mentions of unhappy childhoods (reader and Rhett probably needed more hugs as kids). Allusions to a rich!reader. Me using decorating as smokescreen for a character study lol. Daddy issues galore. The Christmas music is very self indulgent on my part too. Allusions/mentions to 18+ content

A/N: *Mariah Carey whistle note* ITS TIMEEEEEE. Lmao hiii, I hope you all are doing well. It has been a minute since I have written for a fandom outside of hotd so please bear with me on that front. I eventually want to take request soon (for Rhett, some tgm characters, and Calvin Evans) so my inbox is always open if y’all are interested - just shoot me something. If you read anything you like please reblog, like, and or comment. Also let me know when y’all put your decorations up (if you celebrate anything). I’m a staunch first weekend of December girlie myself ❤️

Masterlist

As pathetic as it sounds out loud, Rhett had grown accustomed to having the rug pulled out from under him. He had a looming and painful history with differentiating the cards life dealt him and what he deserves; over time, they began to blur together. At a certain point, he just resigned himself to life just being sort of... eh. Reminding himself that though things could be better, they could also be much, much worse.

It would all combinate in this hazy, syrupy snapshot of moments that ran together. At least, that is what he thought till he met you.

He thinks you would not understand it if he told you - that you are one of those people that is easy to love, while people like him took work to want. Hard work. Something that would be likened to the type of manual labor a Wyoming, farm grown boy like him is used to doing day in and day out. If he dared to express it, you would give him a good-natured laugh and shake your head like you always did when he said something self-deprecating.

"What kind of women do you take me for, Abbott," followed by a playful eye roll. "The type that settles?"

Rhett supposes that was the conundrum with you. Because the statement is not wrong; nothing about you gave off the impression you would settle for anything. That could come from a life of having almost everything at your fingertips. But the questions still tickle his tongue and doubts still makes his brain hazy.

It has only compounded since the two of you moved in together.

It was you who posed the suggestion, a shy smile on your lips. Despite the skepticism and disappointment from your parents, it did not feel right for you to sell your grandmother's ranch, the one your father grew up on, after she passed. You insisted on keeping it yourself, clearly having a soft spot for the house you would visit whenever you had the chance to.

Our home, you called it.

Your baking kits in the kitchen, his horses in the stable, and various clothes in the closets. He should feel reassured by this all… and yet… he waits for the other shoe to drop. For the rug to once again be pulled out from under him. Everything is so warm and new, and he worries about the day it slips through his fingers like sand.

Words in general, and expressing this specifically, does not come easy for him. Though loving you comes as easy as breathing for him. Rhett puts all that stuffing emotions and feelings away to good use as he tries to focus on the present. The only thing that manages to keep his mind clear is keeping his hands busy. So, he tries to make up for it in any way he can. The pale wall color your grandma insisted on keeping but reminded you of a sterile hospital? Painted to something more vibrant. The light fixtures in the kitchen that you said were ‘far too phallic to enjoy a meal under’? Well, those new ones are the best money could buy.

He just finished the building that rocking chair you got for the porch when you stick your head out of the house to call him in for dinner, eyes alight with something he could not put his finger on.

Dinner was silent, too silent for you, who always could spark up a conversation with anyone. A tiny sense of dread sets in, and he can’t help but think it maybe something he did… or did not do.

“The chicken is good,” he tries to start any kind of conversation or joy behind the eyes, but all he gets is an empty smile.

The unnerving quietness carries on for a few of minutes, but you suddenly drop your fork on the plate with a clank.

“Did y'all go all out for Christmas?”

Along with the noise the fork made, the question startled Rhett. He blinks blankly utterly confused by how it went from silence to that.

“What?”

“Oh, sorry,” your lips downturn into an embarrassed frown. “I should not have assumed y’all even celebrate it. I guess I just assumed with your mom and all.”

“No, we do celebrate,” he shakes head.

“So, did you go all out? When did you guys put the decorations out?”

Rhett shifts in his seat uncomfortably. Much like everything else that comes to his family, it is never linear or easy. He doesn’t know how to explain how one year they just stopped decorating; gifts and midnight mass were seen as hassles not the usual. Everything that the holidays stood for: family, love, gratefulness, togetherness was the antithesis of them. The joy and warmth of the holidays was sucked from the house and never came back till Amy was old enough to know what Christmas was - till Rebecca and his ma teamed up one day to make a fuss about the house being cold and sterile. What they meant is that Royal was cold… and sterile.

Rhett can still remember the look of disbelief in Rebecca’s eyes when Perry didn’t back her up on the matter. It was a look Rhett had seen from when he was a teen till the last day, he saw Becca. He still gets a rotten taste in his mouth thinking about he never got to tell her how much she meant to him. But that would also mean admitting that often his biggest advocate was a woman basically forced into the family versus the people he shared actual blood with.

Slight embarrassment burns his mouth like a hot iron down his thoat.

With a tight throat, Rhett shrugs. “It changed every year,” he lies. Then shakes his head. “It wasn’t a big deal really.”

Almost as abruptly as you stopped eating, you get up from the kitchen table. He just about calls out to see if you are ok, but you come back in the dining area carrying a picture.

“When I was cleaning out the garage, I found this.”

Rhett leans over, and he can’t help the slow grin that settles on his face. At first, he didn’t recognize the faces in the picture but then he saw a familiar crooked, mischievous smile, but this time on a younger girl. A little you. Decked out in a red, poofy dress and tiny white fur shawl. Shiny black saddle shoes that gleam even in the old photo.

“My baby as a baby,” he whispers.

Rhett continues to scan the photo. Behind you was two older people, and he can only assume they are your parents. They are exactly how he thought they would be and nothing like he thought at the same time. Your mom casually glamourous in green, your dad in a suit far too done up just for family dinner with a heavy hand on your shoulder. You wear her eyes but his nose. Right behind the three of you, a heavily decorated banister and in the foreground a Christmas tree so large that Rhett thinks it has to be a safety hazard.

You do not seem as happy or in awe of the relic as him, in fact you look sick at the sight.

“That was taken before they sat me down to tell me they were getting a divorce.”

Rhett’s heart sinks a little at the as the way your mouth juts out in bitterness.

“Looking back on it, I should have known. Dad was never home, mom was detached, probably depressed. Ya know, I remember them specifically saying that nothing would change, and naive little me not only believe that but wanted it. Not realizing something was just… off. But I guess most nine-year-old’s can’t tell the difference.”

He supposed it was easier for him to paint a rosier picture of your parents, for his sake and yours. Maybe winters in Texas were better than ones he experienced, maybe life was better. He has seen pictures of house, the compound, you grew up on. But now hearing what you are saying made pity take over the normal envy.

Rhett reaches out to grab your hand, and squeezes. “M’ sorry.”

You wave your free hand nonchalantly thought the casualness does not meet your eyes fully.

“No use crying over spilt milk,” you sigh. “I just saw the picture and tried to rack my brain for the last time we were all together for the holidays. After that one, it was one year with mama, the next with dad. And I don't think we ever decorated the house together. That was my caregiver, Jodie's job. Made me curious other people’s traditions I guess."

Rhett fiddles with the rings on your fingers while chewing on the fleshy part on the inside of his cheek.

“Maybe we can make our own,” he mutters softly. “Startin’ this year.”

You look up through your lashes, eyes fluttering away from the picture that sat on the table.

“Really?”

He nods. If that is what you want, he’d do it for you. Like he would do anything for you. Your gaze goes out the window across from the table. The leaves on the trees already began to change and fall to the ground. Going from green to various shades of red, purple, and brown. The season already has changed; heat melting away as the temperature dropped and cool breeze set in.

Your spirit noticeably lightens. “Do you think we can get a real tree? Mamma always said it was too much of hassle to get a real one.”

Rhett holds up his hand and extends his pinky. “As long as there is mistletoe in the house.”

Under new light fixtures, and with the sun grazing the ground as it sets, the two of you made your first promise.

Investments are important.

Your father told you so all your life. To the giant painting he bought for the Tennessee house (the one you later realized was a Degas), the stocks he bought for you for your fifteenth birthday, or his insistence you go to his alma mater. All investments that he expected payoff for. Your father will always be the smartest businessman you know, and he still managed to be so clueless with everything else.

People are not investments. Not really, at least. Not in the way your father looked at it. You can put money and effort into something, but it is never a guarantee it will work out that way. And you can’t just leave when things do not go your way. Your poor father never seemed to understand that, and you think it broke your grandma’s heart in the process.

And maybe you are no better than him. As a child, you admittedly reaped the benefits your parents offered you, almost to a fault. They would often laugh at your ability to move on to the next thing without so much as a blink of an eye. Onto the next toy, the next piece of clothing, the next makeup item. How can you criticize behavior you gave into yourself?

“You’re a reformed brat,” Jennie, your old debutant buddy turned psychologist said over the phone. “Give yourself some grace. At least you want better yourself now.”

So, you gave yourself just that. You didn’t sell your grandma’s place for the equity or whatever bullshit your dad mentioned. You didn’t Amelia County leave though your mom offered to set you up with her in New York. And God… you’re letting your fall - fall so deeply in love with Rhett, despite the voice in your head that tells you not to.

You replay your, in your opinion, embarrassing meeting. Bursting into tears in the middle of a grocery store was not the romantic story you want to tell others. But he came up to you to say that though he only spoke to her a handful of times when she would stay in her vacation home in Wabang, he knew your grandmother was a good woman and would be missed.

A blubbery mess of grief right next to the meat aisle spiraled into decorating your grandmother's house together - your house.

With Frank Sinatra’s version of ‘Let it Snow’ playing in the background, a rush of giddiness takes over. Jodie always said you had an eye for pretty things.

"A little excited, no," Rhett eyes copious amounts of bags you brought into the house. “It’s not even December yet.”

You survey the bags and boxes laid out. So, you went slightly overboard. Like driving out of town to the nearest big city to do some more shopping. Some habits die hard.

"This is just the starter stuff," you pull reams of garland out of the bag. “Just wait till they start selling the trees. Oh! And I got ingredients to teach you how to make sugar cookies from scratch.”

Rhett is silent for a moment, and you wonder if it is too much too fast. Your mother always said that enthusiasm, especially around men, should be tempered and demure. No one likes a girl that acts like a dog with a bone, sweetheart.

“Do.. do you think we can invite Amy over for the cookies thing,” his cobalt eyes soften at the mention of his niece. “I think she would like that.”

“Of course.”

You knew how important it was to Rhett for things to stay good with Amy. Her reception of the move was the only one he seemed to care about. You could not help but think the rest of Rhett’s family was skeptical about his decision. Cecilia was always kind towards you, and she was mostly receptive to the idea, but you assume it must hurt to see her baby venture out. Something about her reminded you of your own mother. Two women clearly used to the short end of the stick, and had to find ways to deal with it. While your mother found salvation in travel and extravagant parties, Cecilia found hers in faith.

Perry was well… Perry, about the whole thing. Just based on how he handled the news, and small tidbits you picked up from Rhett, it seemed like Perry was upset about Rhett making a choice just for himself. A luxury that the eldest son had a premium on for some time.

But you think it was the patriarch of the family who took it the hardest. It may be the reality of having two less hands around 24/7 like Rhett says, but you tend to think it is something deeper with Royal. Anger, sadness, pride - all of them??? You don’t know.

But what you do know is that family tension is something both you and Rhett know far too well.

After unpacking the bags and boxes you got, the smoky coos of Frank Sinatra transition into the pop Christmas playlist you put together. You don’t remember when the bottle of red wine came out, whether it was between Britney singing about what she wants for Christmas that year or Mariah singing about a holy night. It might have been after you insisted the two of you try your hand at diy decorations. But Rhett rolled his eyes when you talked about getting glasses, taking swings straight from the bottle instead.

“I don’t know how you drink this shit,” he wrinkled his nose, but he takes another hit.

“Just like you enjoy your watery beer,” you retake the bottle from him to have some more yourself.

“Last time I checked,” he expertly ties red and green ribbon into pretty bows and knots. “You were there with me, drinkin’ said watery beer.”

You bite your lip as you watch his brows furrow, and he pokes his tongue out sweetly as he ties meticulously.

“You’re quite good at that.”

“‘M good with ropes too.”

It could be the red wine, which always made your insides warm and fuzzy. Or if could just be the Rhett of it all. Him indulging this perhaps silly childhood wound of yours in full earnest.

“Hmmm,” you shuffle closer to him. The two of you might a makeshift area on the living room floor of pillows and blankets. An almost sickly-sweet peppermint candle ablaze on the table, and the fireplace crackling nearby.

“Royal used to make me secure the lines and pull logs. Kinda got good at it.”

By this time, you’re stuck at his side, suddenly a little fixated on hair on his neck that trickles up to his jaw and cheeks. You like him like this; hair falling from behind where it is tucked behind his ears. Scruffy and soft.

“Maybe you can show me how good you are.”

Rhett’s attention still doesn’t stray from the ribbons he cuts and ties, a task he is clearly taking seriously, but he nods in agreement. You roll your eyes slightly at how oblivious he can be.

“On me, Rhett,” you spell it out for him. “You can use the ropes on me.”

He stops and turns with a look of wanton, wetting his lips for a moment.

“Yeah,” he asks, the inflection at the end of the question breathy and soft.

You nuzzle your nose into area right under his ear with a hum, kissing the skin there and taking in the smell of his cologne. A woodsy scent with sprites of magnolia and cedar. It was one that consumed the bedroom and your mind. You spent much of your formative years pretending to hate the idea of being desired or wanted - chasteness an idea drilled into your head since you were a little girl and told by the ladies of your church that the only thing worse than being ungodly is being ‘fast’. Then you spent college overcorrecting to the point of farce. Letting the guys you knew had little regard for how you felt at the end of it make decisions for you. Emotionally, mentally, and sexually.

Your first time with Rhett was a hodgepodge of giggle and sighs only to be heard by vast emptiness of the home you do sit in now. His boots and jeans askew on the floor. You eccentric grandma’s knick knacks watching you two. Most notably, the cat clock that reflected in the moonlight, the one Rhett insisted you keep when he moved in. After him eating you out until you cried, and a night that ended in you making a trip to the local pharmacy for a Plan B, you honestly expected a series of awkward moments that would single-handedly ruin the small town bliss you experienced for the first time. And yet, in the morning, his lips turned up in a shy smile and he asked if you had bacon in the fridge.

You didn’t realize how badly you were under water and needed to breathe until you came to Wabang. Your lips work their way up his jaw til you reach the corner of his mouth.

“Let’s make it another tradition.”

#rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott #outer range imagine #outer range #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott smut #outer range fic #black!reader #lewis pullman

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yesimwriting · 2 years

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Final Girl (part 4)

(the scenes in this is what inspired the series so ig technically could be read as a stand alone and still make sense but the previous chapters obviously add context lol) Part 4 to - Final Girl Series Masterlist (currently updated parts 1 - 9 and extras)

A/n fun fact there are two alternate versions of part 4 in my drafts, if anyone wants a bonus scene of Billy and Stu having a full conversation with Gloria, and/or a short scene of Y/n and Gloria getting ready together (which shows. a little bit more of their dynamic) it’s basically done and would only need a little bit of editing lol

also!! thinking about doing a lil billy & stu blurb night or sleepover thing,, any thoughts on that lol (prob saturday afternoon, when i’ll be tipsy 😭,, tipsy writing is fun)

my favorite thing about this chapter is how they’re all cute for 3 minutes and then get violently toxic 😭 duality ig??

Warning: i broke and put the first touch of smut into this 😭 everything before the switch in POV is pretty PG (very toxic vibes tho!!), so if you don’t want to read anything sexual just skip over the part at the end that’s in narrator’s POV!! (pls be nice, writing smut scares me, i’ve had very few sexual experiences and have enjoyed none of them lmao)

Series Summary: Y/n can’t believe that she has to leave the only home she’s ever known just because her mom’s latest boyfriend has a house in some town in California. Just as she’s starting to think that Woodsboro might not be that bad, something life altering happens after she agrees to sleep over at the Becker’s house. Now her name is practically synonymous with Ghostface’s.

Chapter Summary: Due to a family emergency, Y/n is left home alone for the first time since what happened to Casey. Luckily, her good friends Billy and Stu show up to surprise her just as she’s starting to feel paranoid.

----

You’d think that someone that grew up with one parent would be used to being alone, but I have very few memories of total solitude. The few times my mom hasn’t been around, there’s always been someone.

Tonight, though, it’s just me. And I’m not alone in my childhood home--I’m alone in Wells’ house. My mom says that I don’t need to think too much about the fact that we moved into his family’s home, but sometimes I still feel like a stranger here. A guest.

Ugh, I shake the thought off with a roll of my shoulders. I’m freaking myself out for no reason, and I promised my mom I’d be fine.

She didn’t want to leave me, and I can’t blame her for her hesitance, but a family emergency is a family emergency.

I would have gone with her in a heartbeat, but I had the SAT this morning. My mom offered to have Wells stay behind, but honestly, the thought of being alone with her boyfriend for days made me more uncomfortable than the thought of being alone. At least it did at the time. But now that it’s dark out, I’m starting to think it might have been a bad idea to send away the trained police officer.

I could always call Sidney or Tatum. My mom said I could have people over, or maybe even sleepover at someone’s house. She actually wanted me to stay with a friend, but after my last sleepover, the thought of spending the night at someone’s house turns my stomach.

Now I’m alone, and it’s almost 9:00, and I’m really upset that most of my comfort movies are horror. The last thing I need is to make myself more para--

The sound of the home phone ringing snaps me out of my thoughts. It could be my mom, but we had just talked. She called me right before I got into the shower to give me an update. I guess it wouldn’t be that weird for her to call me again. She’s nervous about leaving me alone.

“Hi?”

There are no words, just soft breathing. “Hey, squirt.”

Nerves and embarrassing excitement roll in my stomach. I’m so shocked I almost forget that I’m on the phone and I need to reply. “H-hi, dad.” I sit up a little straighter. “It’s you, you’re calling.”

“Yep,” he breathes, popping the ‘p’ and breezing past my awkwardness, “Just checking in. I just heard what happened. Your mom called, but I’m in Europe on business, and because of the timezone difference it went to voicemail. My secretary somehow missed it. I am so sorry I didn’t call sooner, are you okay?”

My lips part, a strange amount of emotions twisting in my stomach, “I uh--I’m doing better. I wasn’t the one that was really hurt.” The thought of Casey strikes me in the chest. I cross my legs beneath me. “I-um--I missed some school because I had a concussion. A friend of mine had to convince me to go to the doctor, actually.”

He laughs lightly, “That sounds like you.” After a second, he continues, “You still want to do the whole Princeton thing?”

“Yeah, I-I’d like to. I’m trying to. Even took the SAT for the first time today.”

I can hear him shuffling. “Wow, squirt, the S-A-T,” he hums each letter, “You and Charlotte are really growing up.”

When I was at that age where kids are obsessed with princesses, I used to imagine that Charlotte was my evil step sister. She was the perfect girl in front of our parents, but there was something about the way she treated me that I couldn’t support. Her and her mother, Alice, always made it clear that my mother and I weren’t the real members of the family.

My mom was more open about my step sister than I was, and I can imagine how hard that was. She waited around for my dad for years, and he didn’t get his life together until grandfather told him to. She stood by him through addiction and through scandal, but once grandfather said dad had to grow up, he listened. He went to Princeton for undergrad and Yale for his masters and he married the woman Grandfather set him up with.

My dad’s only defense is that my mom sent him away. What he never seems to mention is that my mom’s breaking point was him leaving me alone at some dealer’s house when I was a baby.

“Charlotte,” I repeat, trying to hide the way the name stings, “How is she?”

“Oh, she’s good, she just heard back from Princeton because of their rolling admission policy, she’s in.”

Oh. Charlotte is one year older than me, so I knew that it was possible that I’d have to hear about her getting into dream schools soon. What I didn’t expect was to hear that she got into Princeton, and I didn’t expect it now. “That’s really great, dad.”

“Yeah, she’ll get the lay of the land, and once you’re in, she’ll be able to show you around.”

“Yeah,” I mumble, “That’d be nice.”

Another voice steals my dad’s attention. Likely his secretary. “Hey, squirt, I gotta go. Meeting.”

“Oh, y-yeah, dad. Talk to you later.”

“Yes, I’ll make sure to call soon.” He pauses before tacking on, “Oh, I sent you a get well soon present this morning. It might take a few days, but I hope you like it.”

My nails dig into the palm of my hand, “Oh, thanks, dad. Bye.”

With that the line goes flat. I place the phone back on my bedside table before grabbing a pillow that’s by my side. Settling the pillow onto my lap, I drop my face into it. “Ugh.” The groan is strangled and dramatic, but I don’t care.

I cannot wait to call my mom and tell her about how little miss perfect Charlotte is going to Princeton. Princeton is mine, it’s been mine my entire life. There’s a freaking poster of it in my room.

“You’re in a good mood.”

The words make me jump out of my skin. In a second, i’m on my feet, my hands reaching for the first thing I can find. It happens to be my bedside lamp. I blink, eyes wide as my head snaps towards my window. There’s a large figure sitting on the window sill.

“Billy! Stu!” Adrenaline is still running through me. “I could--I could have hurt you guys!”

Billy leans against my window’s frame comfortably, lips turning upwards. “With your fuzzy lamp?”

“Do not make fun of me.”

“He’s not,” Stu says, “You’re super threatening. I’m shaking so much I might fall off this ledge.”

I roll my eyes, shifting awkwardly. It’s not like Stu and I haven’t talked since my little blow up in the hallway, but things haven’t been the same. I don’t know if he’s waiting for something from me or if most of it is in my head because I feel a little bad. I never thought I’d miss Stu regularly jokingly hitting on me, but I think I’m starting to.

“Haha,” I mumble after a second too long of silence. Because I need an excuse to not look at them, I turn to set my lamp back down. “What are you guys doing here anyway?”

Billy shrugs, twisting to place his feet on the floor of my room. “Stu talked me into renting The Craft.” He stands, giving Stu the space he needs to also come into my room. “It made us think of you.”

“You two watched The Craft?”

“We got halfway through,” Stu admits, reaching into the black backpack he came in with, “Not my best pick.” He walks into my room casually, like climbing in through my second floor window is a regular Saturday night occurrence. “Seems like the kind of thing you’d like, though. Brought it in case you wanted something to do later.”

He tosses the tape casually onto my bed. I stare at it for a long second, hating the fact that he knows me so well. I remember seeing trailers for The Craft and wanting to watch it. Some joke about how he’s implying that he thinks I have bad taste tries to come out, but I can’t seem to form the words.

I don’t know if it’s the casual gesture or the fact that they showed up when I didn’t want to be alone, but an emotion I don’t really get threatens to overwhelm me. Maybe this reaction is the result of the phone call with my dad.

Stu must notice my stillness because he asks, “You okay?”

I take large steps, moving around my bed in order to reach him. My hug must surprise him, but Stu doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around me. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“Tuesday,” I mumble, “I was moody and defensive and things have felt kinda weird since then and I just want things to be normal again.” This might be a total mistake, it feels like revealing an open wound. “You’re like one of my best friends.”

He squeezes me tighter, “One of?”

Tilting my head up to look at him, I reply, “Don’t get greedy.”

“Fine,” Stu mumbles after a second of pretend contemplation.

I should pull away now, but there’s something comforting about the position we’re in. Stu’s hugs are underrated, but his ego is big enough without me telling him that. “Do you have anything you want to say to me?”

“Mm...” He hums for a long second. “Nope, not really.” Well, getting along with him was nice while it lasted. I pull away sharply, shoving his chest when he reaches out to me. “I’m kidding,” Stu laughs, “Kidding.” I glare, trying to escape his hold. “I’m sorry, angel. I should have known that you were moody because of your head.”

The nickname takes me by surprise. I remember it from my hazy night at the hospital. I didn’t think twice of it then. Should I think about it now? It’s not particularly weirder than any other of the other nicknames Stu’s always calling me, and they’re all the same level of flirty except maybe bug, which is only really used when he wants his way.

“My head’s hurting a lot less.” I straighten slightly, arms dropping casually as I take a step back. Stu lets me. “I even took the SAT this morning. Totally not ideal with a concussion by the way, if my scores come back and they’re bad I’m so blaming the killer.”

“I remember your reaction at the doctor’s office.”

I turn towards Billy, who’s casually sitting on my bed like he lives here. “Yeah, not my best moment.” I scratch the back of my arm. “Thank you for making me go to the doctor, by the way. The first thing my mom said when I got home was that you must be some kind of saint to have put up with me like that. She’s always telling me that I’m a total monster when I’m sick in any capacity.”

Billy almost smiles, “So your mom likes me now?”

“You’re making progress.” Basically a lie. My mom won’t like any boys I’m friends with until I’m a college graduate. It’s shocking enough that she tolerates them.

“Really?”

I shrug, slightly unsure. Stu moves to sit across from me. “You can tell your mom I’m willing to do whatever to get in her good graces.”

Cringing, I grab a pillow from behind me and throw it at Stu. He barely manages to block it with his forearm. “She’s my mom!”

“And she’s a total babe.”

“You’re getting kicked out.”

Stu holds his hands up in defense, “Don’t worry, you’re still my girl.”

I roll my eyes, pulling my legs beneath me. “Mhm, I’ll mention that to Tatum next time she calls.”

Stu props the backpack up against the side of my bed. The way he dramatically falls across my bed is almost enough to get me to break character. He places a hand on his chest like he’s wounded. “Don’t turn this into something ugly. You know I love you both, just in different ways.”

“I’m glad you two felt the need to sneak in through my window to tell me that.” The comment makes me think about something that they practically made me forget about. “Why did you guys come here through the window anyway?”

“We missed you,” Billy answers with no hesitation. His tone is just a little too sweet to be genuine. When I give him a look, he tilts his head before actually answering the question, “We wanted to check in. It had been a few days, and you didn’t come back to school. You stopped answering calls. Sid told me the last two times she called you, your mom picked up and said you weren’t up for conversation.”

Normally, the thought of people looking out for me makes me nervous. Especially when it’s a guy. I know that past friendships and family issues aren’t the kinds of things I should push onto them. They’ve been good friends. Maybe it’s okay to let people in a little more than I have in the past. Besides, they’re just worried about their high strung friend that was attacked by a murderer and then had a melt down at school, it’s not like they’re crazy for being concerned.

“That’s nice of you guys. I’m doing better, I’ve just been...kinda disconnected lately. And honestly, I’ve been spending a lot more time doing makeup work than I’d like to admit.” My posture relaxes slightly. “You don’t need to worry.”

“There’s also a killer on the loose, and you don’t lock your window.”

Billy has a tiny bit of a point. In scary movies, I always get frustrated when characters are dumb. It’s the small, careless things that distinguish those that die and those that make it to the sequel. “My room’s on the second floor, I thought that’d count for something.”

“Not when the world’s easiest to climb tree is in your backyard,” Stu adds, “I thought you’d think twice about things like that.” He turns his head so that he’s staring straight up at the ceiling. “You’re always reading mystery books and the only thing you care about in movies is that there’s a final girl.”

Great, now Stu’s right, too. “That’s not the only thing I care about.” He’s quiet, watching me with a strange level of focus. He’s weirdly calm...almost dazed. I blink, gaze shifting to watch Billy from the corner of my eye. He’s also seems a little weird. “Are you guys drunk or something?”

Stu lets out a mock gasp. “Wow. You think that little of us?”

My eyes narrow, focusing on the backpack I so quickly dismissed earlier. “I think that if I opened that bag I’d find beer.”

With a wounded sigh, Stu sits up. He grabs his backpack, unzipping it casually. He reaches into it before pulling out a tall bottle. The liquid inside of it is as clear as the glass containing it. “Not exactly.” Stu unscrews the lid, taking an easy sip. He doesn’t wince as the liquid goes down his throat. “Here.” Billy shifts, reaching forward to take the bottle. “Ah--c’mon, Billy boy, let her have some. We’re being rude.”

“It’s okay,” I interrupt quickly, “I’m good.”

Stu frowns, extending his arm a little more. “Come on, angel, just a tiny sip. Less than a shot.” I don’t move, but my attention does shift to the bottle that’s hanging just a little too loosely from his fingers. “I won’t even tell on you to your mom.”

I roll my eyes at what he’s so clearly implying. “I think she’d be more focused on the fact that you chose to come in through the window.” Scratching the back of my wrist, I admit, “Plus, she’s not downstairs, so you can’t tattle on me anyways.” I watch him take in the words, a part of me regretting bringing that up. “Why’d you guys come in this way anyways? I would’ve come to the door.”

“You’ve been ignoring everyone’s calls.” Stu props his head up on his elbow.

I look at him and then at Billy. “So this is an ambush.”

Billy drops one of his bent legs just enough to bump his knee into mine. “A wellness check in.”

Tamping down a grin, I roll my eyes. “Right. Silly of me not to realize.”

“If your mom’s not here, where is she?”

Stu’s blatant nosiness should have been expected. “Why? You actually here for her?”

“Jealous?”

Pressing my back into a pillow, I fake gag.”She’s my mom, Stu.”

He rolls his eyes at my theatrics before laying back down. I know that they must have noticed the way I ignored the question, but telling them that my mom’s not home and that she’s not going to be home for days feels a little like tempting fate now that I know they’re at least tipsy.

Billy lazily reaches for the bottle again. Stu lets him take it this time.

“She’s in Texas, anyways.” Please tell me my voice sounds casual and not at all nervous. “That must be so sad for you.”

I’m waiting for some kind of joke about blue balls or being heartbroken. Instead, Stu props his head up again. “So she’s not here not here?”

The distinction sends nerves straight to my stomach and I’m not sure why. My confusion is more uncomfortable than what I’m feeling. “Yeah,” I mumble, sitting up a little straighter, “Family emergency thing. My godmother is like super pregnant with twins and just got put on bed rest. Her husband’s out of town for work this weekend, so my mom flew there to take care of her.”

Billy’s head turns in my direction, “So it’s just you and good old step dad.”

His lips turn upwards at my glare. “No, Wells is with her.” I shift uncomfortably at the thought of being alone with Wells with no buffer for that long. “I would’ve gone with them, but I already had the SAT scheduled and their flight was early.”

Stu breaks the unexpected silence, “So they left you alone with a killer on the loose?”

Shrugging, I drop my gaze to the floral pattern of my bedsheets. “It’s not like that. My godmother’s miscarried before, she’s freaked out.” My pointer finger traces the dainty pink petals sewn into the fabric. “And I just calmed myself down, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bring that stuff up.”

“Relax, angel,” Stu mumbles absentmindedly, “You can stay at my place if you want. My parents aren’t home either, so it’s just me and Billy tonight.” `

Yeah, I’ve done a lot of pathetic things recently, and I don’t need to add crashing Billy and Stu’s sleepover to the list. Plus I don’t think I need to know what goes on at boys sleepovers. Living with a grown man for the first time was enough of a culture shock. “I appreciate the offer, but last time I stayed over at someone’s house kind of...”

“We could stay here.” Stu’s offer comes out so casual, so without a second thought, I nearly get whiplash. I stare at him, waiting for him to grin or do anything that indicates that he’s joking. He does neither, instead he just looks at Billy like he’s asking him if they’re staying here. Not me.

Billy tilts the bottle in my direction, silently offering it to me. “We could hang out, make sure you fall asleep okay.” He relaxes enough to let his free hand fall. His fingertips ghost my forearm. “Pretend all you want, but I know that staying by yourself has to be bothering you a little.”

Ugh. I hate when he’s right. Maybe a drink isn’t the worst idea right now. It might give me the confidence I need to seem okay with being home alone. I take the bottle, cautiously bringing it up to my lips with the intention of only taking a sip. The bottle tilts upwards with no warning. The unexpected amount of extra alcohol leaves me nearly sputtering. I’m forced to down two large mouthfuls to avoid spilling it all over my bed.

When I finally get the bottle away from me, the sound of laughter and the rush of straight vodka leave me flushed. “Stu!” I’m trying to yell at him, but his name is barely sputtered out between coughs.

“What? This isn’t even 40 proof.”

Billy glares in Stu’s direction before he sits up a little more. I let him tilt my chin up softly. His touch is feather light as he wipes excess liquid up my chin and across my bottom lip. The motion is slow, the nail of his thumb pressing into the edge of my lip, pulling it just enough for me to notice. He’s looking at me with such deliberation my stomach drops.

Wow, I really cannot handle my alcohol. I pull away, hand gripping the side of my bed as cautiously as possible. “You suck, you know how I get when I drink.”

I’ve only been drunk in front of them once. The entire group was together and after my first beer, I spent the rest of the night holding Tatum’s hand and whining whenever Stu tried to steal her away. He was starting to actually get annoyed with me, but I ended up getting super nauseous before he could actually get mad. The next day, he teased me to no end about being an extremely touchy lightweight.

“You weren’t that bad,” Stu lies, hand casually reaching forward to catch my ankle. “Just touchy. Thought you and Tay were getting ready to put on a show.”

“Shut up.”

He yanks my foot towards him, placing my calf on his lap. “Make me.”

I roll my eyes, nerves that I don’t understand rising up my chest at the silence that follows. I could laugh, but he doesn’t need that kind of encouragement, so instead I kick the foot he pulled towards him. The movement is light, more of an attempt to shake him off than anything else. Stu doesn’t take it that way. His hand moves up past my calf, fingers harshly pressing into my skin.

I’m reminded of that night in the hospital. The way Stu gripped my thigh. Small bruises that I thought about more than I’d ever admit lingered there for days. He was joking then, and he’s joking now, but his touch feels different. More (or maybe less?) restrained. There’s also something about the way he’s looking at me.

My head turns in Billy’s direction. “Think I could take him?”

Billy looks at Stu and then at me. “You’d kick his ass.”

I grin openly, glad for the break from tension. Stu’s hold on my leg loosens. He’s no longer gripping onto me, but his touch is persistent as he draws patterns against my skin. The change doesn’t exactly ease me, but I’m worried trying to pull away will make things worse. Something tells me he won’t take it seriously, he’ll think I’m challenging him as a joke or something.

“You wanna kick my ass?” Stu drags his fingers up my leg, stopping at my knee before slowly moving back down.

I shrug, “Not sure yet.”

Stu rolls his eyes before extending the hand holding the bottle. “Decide after another sip.” When I dramatically glare at him, Stu smiles slightly. “I promise not to do anything this time. I’m still not convinced, and it doesn’t entirely have to do with Stu. I’m not sure I want to drink anymore, I’m already finding it hard to focus. “Tell her, Billy.”

“I can’t help that she’s not an idiot.”

Billy’s response isn’t even that funny, but I laugh freely anyways. Stu pouts at my reaction, pulling the bottle back towards him. “Fine, don’t trust me.”

I’ve dealt with Stu’s coldness for days and he’s just starting to act normal again. The last thing I want is for there to be another fight, even if it’s just a petty one. With a roll of my eyes, I lean forward and grab the bottle. “Don’t be so dramatic,” I bring the bottle to my lips and take a quick drink. The liquid burns as it goes down. “See, I trust you.”

Stu doesn’t relax. He just stares at me. Are his eyes darker than they were earlier or is the alcohol starting to get to me? I need an excuse to break eye contact. I raise the bottle again, taking another sip.

Billy’s touch on my back is easing, which is nice because the buzz is starting to kick in a lot stronger than I expected it to. There’s no way Stu was telling the truth when he said that the vodka’s less than 40 proof. “Have you had anything to eat?” He’s moving his hand in circles like he did when he found me in the bathroom. It’s more soothing than it should be. “Last time you didn’t you got sick.”

His words are so calm I find myself giggling. “That’s very motherly of you.” Billy throws me a slightly irritated look. “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, it’s nice.” My head tilts forward, the motion more drastic than I intended it to be. Billy places a hand on my cheek, stabilizing me. “I um--I ate. Ordered Pizza earlier. There’s still some in the kitchen if you guys are hungry. Or I could--could get you something to drink. My mom would be mad if she knew you guys were here, but she’d kill me if she knew I had people over and didn’t offer then anything to eat.”

Billy tilts his head downwards, a strand of hair falling forward. The urge to push it back into place leaves my fingers itching. “Does that mean you’re letting us stay?”

What does that mean? They’ve been staying. It takes me a second to realize that he’s asking me if they’re staying the night. “It’s--”

“Come on,” his voice is soft, his breath warm against my jaw, “We just want to help.”

My thoughts are mush, and I’m not sure that’s just because of the alcohol. I lean back in hopes of creating some distance. “You guys can hang out,” I mumble, “But I don’t think you should stay too late. I’m kind of spacey and a little tipsy and tired. Think it’d be good for me to stay by myself tonight.” The answer feels awkward, maybe even a little risky. My eyes focus on the Princeton banner in the corner of the room. His silence is beginning to crawl under my skin. “Billy?”

When I finally find the courage to look at him again, there’s something eerie about the blankness in his expression. His hand drops from my face. “It is getting late.” He glances at Stu, nodding his head once in the direction of the window. “Wouldn’t want to overstay our welcome.”

I settle the bottle in my lap before wiping at my face with both hands. I should have known better. He takes things like that more personally than one would expect. Memories of the time Billy asked me if I wanted to study for our History test together after school leave me frozen in place. I had already promised to help Randy study for a math test. Billy was cold towards me for a week.

“Billy.” He doesn’t look back at me. I scoot to the edge of my bed, placing the bottle on my nightstand. “Stu.” Stu glances at me, but says nothing. “Don’t go.” I can’t look at them. My nails dig into my bedsheets. “Come on, I-I need you guys.”

God, I’m never drinking again. The admission is so embarrassing I can feel blood rush to my face. I don’t look up until fingers press in to the skin beneath my chin. My head is tilted upwards before I can make any kind of decision.

“Need us?” Billy’s voice is low and unbearably patient.

I blink up at him, unsure on how to proceed. I learned early on in our friendship that it takes little to trigger some kind of power trip in them, and that that tends to lead to meanness. But every part of that’s lost to the buzzed feeling of the alcohol doesn’t care. I nod slowly.

I’d consider the slight uptilt of the corner of his mouth a smile if it wasn’t for the strange look behind his eye. He’s so hard to read sometimes and that just makes me resent the fact that I’ve always been an open book. He knew about my concussion before I did. “A little bit of alcohol is all it takes with you, huh?”

His tone is so patronizing I’d pull away if I was any less fuzzy. “More than a little.”

Billy lets out a partially amused breath. “To you.”

“Remember how you got after two beers?” Stu sits next to me, so close our knees touch.

I shift back, forcing my eyes to stay on my lap. “That’s why I didn’t want to drink a lot, but some asshole tilted the bottle with no warning.”

“Mean of them,” Stu agrees, shockingly amicable as he takes my hand from my lap. I watch as he messes with my fingers, curling and uncurling them like a child would with a toy. “Let us stay, bug. We’ll have fun, watch movies, I’ll go downstairs for you if you get thirsty in the middle of the night.”

The specificness of that last part leaves me confused. I tilt my head in his direction, but Stu pays no mind to it. Billy half huffs, “I’d get you the water, Stu’s too selfish when he’s tired.”

“Fuck you,” Stu protests, squeezing my hand once, “Maybe I’d do for it Y/n. Maybe I like her more than I like you.”

Billy barely justifies that response with a look in Stu’s direction. He then turns towards me, eyes softening slightly as he shakes his head once. Despite myself, I smile fondly. “It’s not that I don’t want you guys to stay, it’s that I don’t know if it’s okay.”

Of course Stu’s the one to ask, “Why wouldn’t it be okay?”

Even in my state, I know he knows exactly what I’m implying. He’s fighting a grin, enjoying the prospect of me having to say it a little too much. For once, I can’t use my mom as an excuse. There’s literally zero possibility of her finding out, she won’t be in the same state as us until Tuesday. The only way she’d find out is if I tell her and if I admit that I’m scared of letting it slip out, the mommy’s girl jokes will never end.

“You know why,” I begin, watching Stu trace the line of my palms. “Don’t think Sid and Tatum would love the idea of their boyfriends...” He’s really going to make me say it. I resist the urge to pull my hand back into my lap and curl into myself. “...Having sleepovers with me.”

The words are barely out of my mouth before Stu laughs. “You and Tay get up to a lot at your sleepovers?”

The alcohol’s really getting to me because it takes me a second to understand the joke. My delayed eye roll is definitely noticed. “That’s not--it’s--” I pull my hand away, crossing my arms over my chest. “You know what I mean. It’s different.”

“Why’s it so different?”

That’s the kind of question I expect from Stu, but from Billy, it’s not as easy to dismiss with an eye roll and halfhearted shove. “It’d-it’d seem weird,” I whisper, “Tate and Sid--”

“Would be happy that we’re keeping you safe. They love you.” Billy places a hand on my shoulder, his thumb brushing against the strap of my tank top. I was too distracted before to think about what I’m wearing, but now I can’t help noticing that this is the skimpiest I’ve ever worn in front of them.

It’s not like I’m naked--but my old, elastic pajama shorts are the kind of thing I can’t wear around Wells. My tank top isn’t scandalous, but I’m too aware of the fact that I’m not wearing a bra. I also don’t love being seen in clothes like this. Two different types of insecurity strike at the same time.

“Sid would kill me if I let anything happen to you,” Billy continues, his thumb moving up and down my skin. “C’mon.”

This was always a losing fight. It’s kind of hard to put your foot down when it comes to something that you don’t really want. I know that my points are valid, or at least, I think they’re valid.

Maybe I am being a little dramatic. It’s not like we’re doing anything bad. Even if they didn’t have girlfriends, I really doubt either of them would see me like that. And is it so bad that I don’t want to be completely alone in this house? We’re friends, friends have sleepovers. Plus it is nighttime and they’ve been drinking, sending them to walk home could lead to something happening to them.

“Okay,” I give in, “But best behavior. My mom will kill me if she thinks you guys stayed over.”

“Aw,” Stu says, moving to rest his head on my shoulder, “Willing to keep a secret from your mom for us.”

Instead of shaking Stu off, I rest my head against his. “Guess I like you guys.”

“You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”

I frown, “I’m not sleepy.”

“Then let’s go watch a movie.” I pout when Stu moves away, “Come on, I brought options.”

Moving to sit closer to the edge of the bed, I wipe my eyes with the back of my palm tiredly. Stu brought more movies? For a spontaneous, tipsy visit, Stu seems remarkably prepared. He grabs the bottle off of my nightstand. The implications of that makes me sigh loudly.

Billy reaches forward, grabbing my hand. “It’s easier to go along with it.” I let him help me to my feet. When I sway, Billy’s hand is quick to find my hip. “I’ll help you down the stairs.”

I don’t protest. It’s probably for the best, anyways. Tipsy me isn’t exactly known for her coordination.

True to his word, Billy’s hand stays on my hip as as we walk to the living room. Once we’re down the stairs, Billy’s hold on me doesn’t loosen. Stu’s already messing with the VCR by the time I’m sitting on the couch. I consider offering him some help, but decide against it. I’m comfortable, and probably too out of it to be useful.

Watching a movie feels like a good thing. Knowing them, it’s probably something scary, and they take their horror movies seriously. It’ll consume their attention, which means I’ll be able to recover from the alcohol in peace.

Stu must figure out the VCR because he stands up and walks towards us. He sits down next to me, stretching an arm over the back of the couch. “What’d you put on?”

"The Shining.”

“Finished the book recently.”

“Hm,” Stu hums in acknowledgement, already turning his full attention to the movie.

The movie playing lets me relax. There’s no need to worry about doing anything stupid or embarrassing because the two of them are going to be immersed in what’s on the screen.

Only a few minutes into the movie, Stu takes a sip from the bottle of alcohol. I almost forgot he brought that down with him. He then offers it to me without looking away from the TV. My hand wraps around the neck of the bottle. After a few sips, Billy takes it from me. He ignores the way I look at him, opting to drink even less than Stu did before setting the bottle down on the coffee table.

I’ve watched The Shining before, and I’ve been meaning to rewatch it since finishing the book, but focusing isn’t coming easily to me right now. At least I know enough about to plot to not be confused as my thoughts tune in and out.

My head ends up on Billy’s shoulder. I don’t remember making the conscious choice to do so, but I’m comfortable and Billy doesn’t shake me off, he just brushes his knuckles up and down my leg absentmindedly.

The longer the movie continues, the harder I find it to understand what’s going on. Maybe it’s because I’m tired, maybe it’s because the bottle somehow keeps making its way back to me.

I blink hard, trying to figure out what point of the movie we’re at. We’re not near the end, Jack Torrence hasn’t fully snapped yet, but his writer’s block is getting bad. A confident touch to my left knee snaps me out of my analysis. My head turns against Billy’s shoulder. Stu’s eyes are still trained on the movie, but his hand is on my leg, and not in a casual, mindless way, either.

He squeezes my knee as the little boy rides his tricycle past room 237. “Stu.” His fingertips trail up my inner thigh slowly, lingering where my shorts end. I shift, unintentionally pressing myself more into Billy. Stu presses his hand down in order to keep my leg in place. “Stu.” What’s meant to be a scolding comes out too sleepy and slurred. It practically sounds like a whine. “’M serious.”

Stu’s nails drag up my skin. My breath catches in my throat oddly, a tiny sound slipping out. “Serious about what?” My lips part, but no words are ready to come out. “You’re okay,” he whispers, “Just watch the movie, angel.” I’m too buzzed to do anything but nod. “Want more to drink?”

“She’s done,” Billy squeezes my forearm, “Anymore and she’ll get sick.”

The thought of drinking anymore does twist my stomach. Sometimes the way Billy reads people is a tiny bit eerie. I nod against his arm, squeezing his hand. Stu shrugs, turning back to the movie without moving his hand from my thigh.

By the time the movie’s ending, the fact that I’m aware of anything is a miracle. I only fell asleep once and woke up to the feeling of Stu squeezing my thigh. The fact that my initial reaction wasn’t to try to get him to knock it off, but to pretend to still be asleep scared me so much I didn’t let myself relax for the rest of the movie.

"She asleep?” Stu’s voice is barely louder than the sound of still rolling credits.

I shift against Billy in a sad attempt to sit up fully with no support. “Still awake,” my voice is too drowsy, I try a little harder to sit up before wiping my eyes. “’M up.”

Billy keeps a hand on my arm in an attempt to help stabilize me. “Clearly.” I try throwing a sarcastic look in his direction, but it feels kind of pathetic. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Stu grabs my hand, pulling on my arm before I can respond. They help me stand and stay up. They’re attentive as we move up the stairs, pausing and holding me a little tighter each time I threaten to sway or stumble. I’m barely there by the time we get to my room.

The second I see my bed, I abandon them both in favor of finding my mattress. I stumble, pulling back my sheets before laying down. Billy sits down on the other side of the bed. I roll onto my stomach in order to reach for him. My hand falls short, but Billy moves to compensate for my lethargy.

I can barely lift my head off of the mattress, “Hi.”

His hand is on my back, moving in small circles. “Hi,” he echoes. I smile at nothing in particular as I try to keep my eyes open. “You need sleep.”

With a laugh, I turn onto my back. Billy moves his hand away, looking at me sternly as I continue to giggle. “Astute observation.” I lazily try to wipe the sleep from my eyes. “Weird word, huh?” Using the last of my energy to sit up, I laugh again. The sound gets cut short by a yawn. “Never really thought about it before the SAT.”

“Uh-huh,” Stu starts, placing a hand on my shoulder, “You spent who knows how long with your nose in an SAT prep book, we get it. Now go to sleep.”

My head lulls to the side, mainly subconscious protest must be visible on my face because Stu pushes against my shoulder and that’s all it takes for my back to fall flat against my bed. My eyes go wide in surprise. I shift like I want to sit up, but then decide to just roll onto my side. “That wasn’t nice.”

He sits next to me, “I’ll make it up to you in the morning.” My eyes are now shut but I can hear his movements. The feel of a hand brushing against my side should alarm me more. I open my eyes just enough to see Stu lying next to me. “Promise.”

I hum vaguely in agreement, nodding my head more into my sheets than anything else. I’m so close to sleep I barely register the feeling of Billy’s hand against my back, moving in the same circular motions as before.

The last thing I register before falling fully asleep is the light getting turned off and long fingers brushing against my neck. I’m in a state that’s more dream than reality when something oddly sharp--but not painful--quickly brushes against my neck. Before I can think about it, I’m pulled under.

----

Narrator’s POV

Stu can’t help it. He’s been trying to keep it together all night, trying to pace himself and hold onto the way he’s supposed to act, but it’s been getting increasingly harder around you. Especially tonight.

The urge to break character, in a sense, isn’t his fault. Not really. How is he supposed to focus and play best friend’s boyfriend when you’re everywhere? The postures and pictures on your wall, the overflowing, well loved bookshelf in the corner, and your sheets. The dainty floral pattern, the softness of the cotton, and the way that they smell so much like you. He can’t stop imagining what it’d feel like to press your face into them as you took him from behind.

He thought being in your room would be easy. It’s not like he’s never checked it out before, but only while you weren’t home. But being here with you? A drunk, touchy, needy you? Almost impossible. He’s been trying to hide how hard he is all night.

But now you’re asleep, and the alcohol he kept getting you to drink is guaranteed to keep you that way until late morning. His hands have been all over you since he first realized that your breathing evened out. He moves one hand to palm himself over his pants. His free hand trails down your side, squeezing your hip.

“Go to sleep.” Billy’s voice isn’t tired, just a little flat, and maybe a tiny bit annoyed.

Stu recognizes the lack of demand in Billy’s tone and decides that his words are more of a ‘knock it off’ than a serious ‘stop’. “Like you’re not hard.” Stu’s fingers brush against the hem of your shorts. “Y/n said she needed us and then spent two and a half hours basically laying on top of you.” Stu slips his hand beneath the waistband of his pajama pants, knowing that with a few more words he could finally get some release. “Remember yesterday?” Stu groans, his hand moving down his length. “You came to the thought of that.”

Billy stays still, ignoring a feeling he’s been in control of since early in the night. “It’s too soon.” He glances at you, so tired and so needy. “We push anymore tonight and we won’t be able to blame it on drinking.” Your breath flutters slightly, your chest expanding a bit more than usual. “If she thinks anything’s up she won’t talk to us anymore. She’s still too close to Sidney and Tatum.”

“Relax,” Stu sighs, his hand moving a little bit faster, “Sh-she drank enough to keep her knocked out until tomorrow. Fuck.” Stu turns his head at the sound of Billy moving. He frowns dramatically when he realizes that the movement was just Billy brushing his knuckles over your cheek in order to sooth you and make sure you’re still sleeping comfortably. “You’re babying her, we should just talk her into it already.” Stu likes the thought of that more than he can put into words. The three of you, like it should be. “Should’ve felt her when my hand was on her thigh. She--fuck--she was shaking, pretending to be asleep.”

Billy lets out a breath, reaching over for Stu lazily. You don’t even shift at the motion. “You think I’m babying her, but she’s the one that has you wrapped around her finger.”

Stu parts his lips to protest, but Billy pushes his hand beneath the waistband of Stu’s pants before he can get the words out. “Shit,” Stu’s breath hitches, “Fuck you, Y/n lets me do whatever I wan-want.” Billy moves his hand at a pace that’s agonizing. “She wouldn’t stop me if I-”

Stu cuts himself off with a groan. Billy finishes the sentence for him, “If you spread her legs apart, pulled those tiny shorts to the side, and ate her out until she’s crying.” With each word, Billy picks up his pace, indifferent to Stu’s whines. “You want to do that?”

“Yes,” Stu doesn’t hesitate, “Fuck, yes.”

“She’d squirm under you like before.” God, Stu’s practically seeing stars. “She’d let us fuck her like a whore.”

Stu bites his tongue to suppress a whine, his fingertips digging into your hip. “Shit, I’m close.”

Billy moves his hand up, pulling it away from Stu slowly. He ignores Stu’s whine. “Go to sleep.”

----

Taglist: @cole22ann @womenarecannibals @fand0mskullfa1ry @princessleah129

#scream #scream x reader #scream 1996 #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #stu macher #stu macher x reader #ghostface #ghostface x reader #poly!ghostface #poly! ghost face x reader #x reader #final girl fic

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fish-ofishial123 · 6 months

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Okay I realized that I never told you guys how I met my bf so here it is 😭😭

(brace yourself, it's long-)

Let's call him Cranberry, because that's my nickname for him lol.

So we both knew each other since elementary school. We were childhood friends, and we both were neighbors. We were kinda close and friendly with one another, but my parents told me that we argued a lot too lmao. I honestly don't remember, we were too little-

Anyways, near the end of elementary school, Cranberry moved into a completely different city. I wasn't very affected by this, because I wasnt really that close with him. And my sexist (yes, I was a sexist child. I'm sorry I'm not sexist anymore I swear 😭) elementary school self was like, "he's a boy. I'm a girl. Why should we hang out together?"

Anyways, when I was in middle school, Cranberry moved back, but into a house that was on the other side of my neighborhood. I kind of recognized him at school, but I never really spoke to him because I thought it would be awkward. I kind of just assumed that he didn't remember how we were friends.

I kind of wished he remembered me though. Sometimes we would end up sitting next to me on the bus if there were no seats, and I would question whether or not he did remember me. Sometimes we would make eye contact in the hallways but didn't say anything. It was kind of awkward. I also thought he was kinda cute

One day Cranberry sat next to me on the bus when we were going home, and he talked to me. He asked me what my name was, so of course, I told him. And then he nodded and said, "I don't know if you remember me, but we were friends when we were little."

And I cussed myself out that entire week for not talking to him before :))

Anyways we kind of grew closer after that. I admitted that I remembered him too and stuff, and we became best friends.

About a year later, my friends started telling me that Cranberry was going to confess on Valentine's Day or something like that.

And obviously, he did. We both agreed we were too young to date. (My mom found out about this by reading my diary. We had a TaLk and she's like, "are you going to date him??" and I had to tell her the difference between asking someone out and confessing lol. There you go, Loifey, that's your explanation.)

We stayed best friends but things were obviously a bit awkward between us, but we kept things as normal as possible.

And years later, Cranberry asked me out at a sleepover. I know, probably not what you guys were expecting. Even my brain was like, "wat da fack" because it was freaking 1:00 AM. (I agreed btw duh)

That's it lol. My fingers hurt. Gn or gm or what facking ever.

#Cranberry <3 #Angelfish_talks

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choking-on-ice · 1 year

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South Park College Headcanons

I lost power for most to the day today, so I sat at a coffee shop and just killed time writing down headcanons for every SP character I could think of.

there's alot of them, but hopefully somebody out there finds these fun

Butters

Gender fluid / non-conforming

Saved up enough to move into dorms away from their parents

Autistic and very gullible still

has learned to stand up for themself and their friends better

Got fed up in senior year and spiked Cartman's drink w/ laxatives and locked him outside at a house party

Ppl secretly fear them a lil after that

Kept their baby face and a bit of chub

Still plays for Stan's death metal band

has a strange relationship w/ Kyle (who's grappling w/ some denied queerness)

still an absolute sweetheart

drinks at parties and smokes w/ friends, even tho everyone assumes they dont

their parents still totally suck

Kenny

revolving door of jobs cuz he gets bored easily, but is always selling weed on the side

Ran into more drug problems through highschool after his troubles cheesing

Went to rehab with Tweek and Stan, got clean, and is closer to them than ever before now

Butters stood by him at the peak of his addiction and now he would (and probably has) jump in front of a bullet for him

Joined the robotics club in HS

Pursuing an engineering degree w/ an academic scholarship

Still works as Mysterion, just w/out the undies over his pants

thinks it's funny to cockblock his friends

is kind of a player, but not a dick abt it

flirts alot, thinks it's fun to flirt w/ Tweek and Butters bc they never grew immune to his BS like the others

the idea of one of them reciprocating any flirting is terrifying to him tho

cuz he has a massive inferiority complex and lives in denial that he has real romantic feelings for anyone

ultimate rizz

Stan

Still fronts his death metal band

hopeless romentic

Bonded w/ Tweek over their crappy home lives when Tweek starts delivering to Tegridy Farm

Grew closer w/ Kenny when he found out he was in the same rehab program as him and Tweek

stronk farmboy, also p tanned which juxtaposes his alt style

Opens up to smoking weed in college now that he's sober

emotionally intelligent

NOT emotionally communicative / available tho

bottles stuff up

only knows how to vent when drunk, then later thru music

Kyle

jaded w/ a chip on his shoulder

prone to knee jerk reactions

throws hands at the drop of a hat

usually throws the first punch

kept playing sports after hs - football in college and basketball recreationally

did debate w/ wendy in HS

still bffs with stan, even tho they dont have many shared hobbies anymore

Craig

autistic

rizzless

doesn't rlly need game tho cuz he's only had eyes for Tweek, and Tweek's a mess

monotone + flat expression intimidates some people

has rep of being an asshole, it's only half true

is considered rebellious, but he just sees it as doing what he wants to do not what other ppl want him to

slow to anger, has never thrown the first punch

grew up to be tall and broad like his father at his age

his dad pushed him into playing football, after HS he only plays bc his friends are on the team and doesn't care much about winning

likes old school indie music, underground shows, and obscure bands, isn't pretentious about it tho

when Kenny tells him about the Tweek's drugging Tweek (and the rest of town) he loses it and has to get talked down from strangling Mr Tweek

Tweek

autistic + adhd

loves deathmetal, hardstyle EDM, death rap, and hardcore music in gen

bonds w/ Stan in late HS as he makes deliveries for the coffee shop up to the farm

Kenny and him are acquainted since Kenny delivers ingerdients to the shop

loves fantasy - LoTR, D&D, etc.

Trans FtM (cuz i am and i project onto my faves lol)

Finds out from Craig and Kenny that his parents have been drugging him w/ meth in the coffee since he was a child

spirals after this and has trouble trusting people, questioning everything and everyone in his life

becomes rlly close w/ Kenny and Stan when they all attend rehab together

moves out before HS even ends, couch surfing for the summer until he can move into the dorms

sobering up lets him gain some weight and he begins to look less sickly

I have more on the other characters, but I have arthritis and typing this much killed my fingers already. Hope u enjoyed if u got this far

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sky-kenobye · 3 months

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15 questions for 15 friends

Thanks @fangeek-girl for the tag! <3

1. Are you named after anyone?

Nope!

2. When was the last time you cried?

Hmm 🤔 I'm not sure tbh, maybe last week? Two weeks ago? Less than a month most likely. Just felt bad about myself and had a good cry.

3. Do you have kids?

No kids, nor do I want any.

4. What sports do you play/ have you played?

Dance (contemporary and a bit of modern jazz) when I was a kid but I didn't learn much even though i started when i was 3 or 4 i think, and did maybe 8(?) years of it.

Circus for 9 years.

Taekwondo for 2 years (I think you're supposed to be a yellow belt after only two years but my teacher gave me the blue belt so 🤷 guess I'm a blue belt).

Self defense for 1 year.

And ski and snowboard since I grew up in the alps though I barely took any classes, mostly just with my parents.

(☝️ This is making me look super sporty even though I'm really not lol)

(+ all the sports I had to do in PE class in school. I really liked rock climbing, orienteering and step aerobics)

5. Do you use sarcasm?

All the time!

6. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Either clothes or hair I think? I'm not very observant or a good judge of character so it has to be something obvious.

7. What's your eye colour?

Blue 🧿🧿

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings! I don't really like scary movies, though I love suspens and action that get you on the edge of your seat.

9. Any talents?

I have pretty fast reflex? Not sure that's a talent but I'm good at games where you have to catch something or put cards down faster than the other players. Actually I'm good at board games in general (unless I'm playing against my brother, he's way better that me).

10. Where were you born?

In the french alps 🇨🇵🏔

11. What are your hobbies?

Reading (I wish it was more books (it used to be) but honestly most of the time it's mostly fics), playing video games, sewing, knitting, crocheting, random arts and crafts that I'll drop a week later, watching movies and going to the cinema, astronomy (mostly just stargazing so far but one day I'll buy a telescope), playing board games, travelling (does it count as a hobby?), daydreaming about star wars characters...

12. Do you have any pets?

Sort of? I've always had cats at my mom's house but since I moved out it's mostly my mom's cat? But it's also mine and my sister's. Idk it's our cat.

(My mom also has a dog but that's her dog, not mine)

13. How tall are you?

169 cm (which is 5'6" or 5'7" i think)

14. Favourite subject in school?

Maths and Latin

(I was also very good at physics but I didn't love it for some reason, even though that was the most interesting)

15. Dream job?

Prop guy or costume maker in movies (not the designers, the people who actually make the stuff). Or somehow living off of making cosplay and stuff like that (through YouTube and Instagram I guess).

(I'm not actually trying to do any of that though, I don't think I have the skills to do it)

I'm tagging @grapenehifics @piecesofeden11 @willameena @wibzenadarksiderwithasoftheart @renlyslittlerose @cottonraincoat @to-proudly-go @kingdomvel @desmothene @hausofroxann @amadwinter @ineffable-snowman @tideswept @sendpseuds @yourfavoritefridge

(No pressure of course, as always)

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hear-that-music-in-the-air · 3 months

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Ada and Ian Headcanons (Rhythm Doctor)

this got Long As Hell i'm sorry lmao. headcanons under the cut!!

Ada:

- We know that Ian is a radiologist, but I think Ada is probably a general practitioner/primary care physician! If she's canonically a cardiologist (bc heart stuff) then that's my bad lmao. But based on what we see in the game, she doesn't really seem to specialize in anything. She instead seems to have a wide range of medical knowledge and we see her treating a variety of different illnesses/injuries, including Mr. Stevenson's broken leg and Lucky's torn rotator cuff. We know that she's been having to do pretty much everything around the hospital bc they're so understaffed, and primary care physicians usually have fairly extensive medical knowledge covering multiple fields, which I think is what allows her to do that.

- One of my biggest hcs about Ada is that she has a very strained relationship with her parents, and that her parents are also both doctors, though I imagine they're close to retirement by now. However, unlike Ada, they both specialize in highly specific fields like brain surgery or something (I actually do imagine her dad to be a neurosurgeon lmao), and because they're both so successful they have incredibly high expectations of her. They look down on her for choosing to be a GP/primary care physician because they think of that work as somehow less important/less worth her time. They're the kind of people who absolutely have a superiority complex about being doctors and ~saving lives~. Also definitely not the kind of people who should have had kids. They're distant at best and extremely judgmental and condescending at worst.

- Ada has one younger sister who's six years younger. Because their parents were always so busy with their careers, Ada basically grew up taking care of her sister, which definitely contributed to her mentality of feeling responsible for everyone all the time. Her sister moved out of their parents' house as soon as possible and is currently attending college somewhere far away, but she and Ada still keep in touch. Ada being an eldest daughter just makes too much sense to me lmao

- I like to think that Ada is an extremely affectionate person by nature. But because of growing up with emotionally distant parents, she doesn't ever really expect for that affection to be returned, especially from Ian who's not very outwardly affectionate most of the time. So when he does go out of his way to express affection it means a lot to her :)

- Because of the way her parents are, I think she kind of has an unconscious mentality of "no one is ever going to love me as much as I love them." She also struggles with people-pleasing tendencies (taking on more work than she can handle, having difficulty saying no to people) and self-esteem issues. So whenever someone goes out of their way to show her love, it kind of catches her off guard lol

- Ada's primary love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation (I'll explain this more below lol). She's REALLY big on physical touch—Ian generally does not like physical touch and one of the only people he tolerates/enjoys it from is Ada. Though I definitely think acts of service is one of her love languages too, as seen in Middlesea College Life. I simply think that she has so many love languages because she's FULL of love

- I imagine Ada as someone who feels her emotions very strongly, and who is generally just a highly emotional and empathetic person. Her empathy makes her good at connecting with the patients, but it also means that she feels everything so much all the time and it can be overwhelming for her sometimes. She’s undoubtedly very intelligent, but I think she’s still very much a heart over head type of person. She also cries pretty easily, though she has to try her best to keep it under wraps at work. The list of movies that make her cry is extensive, which Ian lovingly teases her for.

- Ada is extremely nearsighted and can't see much at all without her glasses. Because of this one of her favorite jokes is saying “I’ve seen enough” and taking her glasses off lmao

- Courtesy of @nightmun: Ada earnestly loves dad jokes, puns, and anything similar. Ian gets her a joke book as a gift once and regrets it immediately.

Ada, incredibly excited: IAN WHAT DOES A LEMON SAY WHEN IT PICKS UP THE PHONE

Ian: …what?

Ada: YELLOW!! *WHEEZE*

Ian: <:)

(this is the fifth one she’s told him today)

Ian:

- Ian’s mother is a single mom and his dad left when he was ten, hence why Ian is currently the only one taking care of her. Ian was also an only child. I imagine he and his mom are very close since it’s just been the two of them for so long, so her illness has really been taking a toll on him.

- Ian is bilingual and speaks Mandarin! I don’t think he has a canon ethnicity in-game (though please correct me if I’m wrong), but I’ve been thinking of him as Chinese Canadian, in line with @pokeblog123’s headcanon that Middlesea is in Canada. I imagine he and his mom speak Mandarin at home sometimes.

- I think Ian probably did robotics and/or coding as hobbies in high school and college! We know that he’s insanely tech-savvy, and he seems to have quite a talent for programming. In that same vein, another one of Ian's hobbies is buying old/vintage video game consoles from garage sales, on eBay, etc. and taking them apart to see how they work, sometimes also restoring them if he can.

- I know this is a pretty popular hc already but I think Ian is autistic/generally neurodivergent lol. I do try to write him with this in mind

- Related to that, Ian struggles with social cues to a certain degree, and subsequently has more trouble connecting with the patients than Ada. His little character card says he’s “better with computers than people” and I think this is probably because people are just difficult for him to read. Computers are much simpler; they’re predictable and generally do what they’re programmed to do. People are a lot more complicated. I do think he’s learned to read Ada fairly well simply because he’s known her for so long

- Ian's primary love language is acts of service/gift-giving. He struggles with physical touch and with verbalizing his feelings so he shows his love by doing things for people instead (which was part of the inspiration for my fic "Helping Hand"). If he goes out of his way to do something for you, that’s how you know he really cares. He's an actions over words type of guy :)

- Ian can be very blunt and straightforward, as we see in the game, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t care. We know from game dialogue that he regularly encourages Ada to take breaks and is generally concerned for her wellbeing, and we can also infer that he worries a great deal about his mother. He definitely cares, he just has different ways of showing it.

- Ian normally doesn’t cry very easily and he also doesn’t like to cry in front of other people, but my hc for why he cried at the Stevensons’ reunion is because it reminded him of his own sick mother, who’s been alone ever since his dad left. He’s usually not one to cry in public but that just got to him. I like to think that Ada checked up on him afterwards.

(ACT 5 SPOILERS)

- Although he doesn't really show it, I think Ian probably feels a certain amount of guilt for everything that's happened with Connectifia Abortus, especially now that it's been revealed that the virus originated from the system he created. He knows that the rhythm defibrillator system could put the patients in danger if the virus keeps getting worse, and he's been working day and night to try to fix it. Of course, Edega's demand for a "miracle cure" at the expense of caution and safety certainly isn't helping matters. Given that Ada also needs treatment on occasion, one of Ian's biggest fears is that Ada will get hurt because of the virus (and, he thinks, because of him).

BOFA THEM:

- I think Ada was Ian's first, and possibly only, good friend at college. I imagine they met through their shared classes and Ada was one of the only people who made a point to talk to him. After that she sort of just stuck around, much to Ian’s initial surprise. He had always struggled with making friends and he was hesitant to open up to her at first, but her persistence and genuine sincerity eventually won him over. Now they’re best friends :)

- I've seen other people say that they were probably roommates at some point in college/med school and I definitely think so too. I'm sure they pulled a lot of all-nighters together lol

- Once Ada and Ian became close friends, I like to imagine that she also got to know Ian's mother. She's always gotten along with her very well, and because her own parents were so distant, Ada came to think of her as somewhat of a parental figure. When Ian's mom first got sick and started requiring intensive care, Ada insisted on helping out with anything they needed.

- What I was referencing above about Ada and physical affection: I think Ada might be somewhat touch-starved because of my headcanon that her parents aren't very affectionate people. She craves physical touch and words of affirmation because she never got much of that from her parents. Once Ian figures this out, he tries his best to do those things for her even though it doesn't come as naturally to him (as in like, he’s normally not one to initiate hugs but he’ll give Ada a hug if he can tell that she needs it).

- Ian’s pragmatism balances out Ada’s bleeding-heart altruism, and vice versa. I think over years of friendship they’ve learned to appreciate the other’s perspective and find a middle ground, though of course that’s not always possible in high-stress medical situations.

- Ada doesn’t really understand anything about the online games that Ian plays, but she probably uses gamer lingo incorrectly on purpose just to annoy him lmao

- Unrelated to anything but I think one of their favorite pastimes is hate-watching Grey's Anatomy together and making fun of all the medical inaccuracies (I’ve never watched Grey’s Anatomy but I’ve heard there are many). Despite this they’re both low-key invested but neither of them wants to admit it lol

Anyway I love them. In my mind they are besties who get married for tax benefits. Thank you for your time if you read this far lmao

#rhythm doctor #ada paige #ian rhythm doctor #act 5 spoilers #hi. i’m so normal #a good number of these are things that i’m either actively writing fics about or want to write about in the future #unfortunately school is keeping me busy so have this in the meantime #augh. i love them #honestly i can enjoy them as platonic or romantic or anything in between. i just think they belong together in any capacity #Do Not Separate Them #paian #<— for the paian lovers. target audience tbh we are shaking hands 🤝

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