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| Shotgun Wedding; James/OC. Justice era. | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: July 24, 2011, 3:30 pm (11,475 Views) | |
| disposable_hero | August 10, 2011, 11:27 pm Post #31 |
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I attempted James' POV in this one, but I don't think I portrayed him very well. Sorry if it's not very good, but thanks for reading in advance. - - - James' POV Okay, I know it was an asshole move - stealing Ashlynn's car - but I needed to do it. I needed to get back at her "former" husband. I was out for his blood. He beat the shit out of a woman! The woman I love, no less. Just thinking about it made me angry. My knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel so tightly. I wrung my hands around the steering wheel as if it were Michael Carrington's neck. My foot pushed down on the gas, sending Ashlynn's '79 El Camino hurtling down the road. The engine roared, filling the car with much needed noise. It was a distraction. I listened to the hum of the engine as I sped towards Ashlynn's old house. While she was showering, I looked up her husband in the phonebook. His address was there. It was so easy to find him. It was going to be even easier to kick his ass. A sigh escaped my pursed lips and I loosened by grip on the steering wheel. I needed to calm down if I was going to make this ride. It was at least two hours. If I kept on like this the car would break down. Its engine was already sputtering. As I relaxed my foot that rested on the gas pedal, my beeper went off. I looked at the number. It was Ashlynn. Again. I sighed again and reached over, opening the glove compartment and tossing the beeper into it. It beeped loudly. To cover up the noise, I turned on the radio. Black Sabbath's "Lady Evil" pumped from the car's stereo. I couldn't help but sing along to calm my nerves. "There's a place just south of Witches' Valley Where they say the wind won't blow And they only speak in whispers of her name There's a lady they say, who feeds the darkness It eats right from her hand With a crying shout she'll search you out And freeze you where you stand Lady Evil, evil She's a magical, mystical woman Lady Evil, evil in my mind She's queen of the night..." - - - The car idled at the end of the private drive. I contemplated getting out of the car and walking up to the house on foot, but it was bound to have some sort of security going on. Driving up would be less risky since I was driving Ashlynn's car. Maybe Michael would even greet me at the door, thinking I was her. Oh, that would be awesome. I took the latter and drove the car up the driveway. The radio was off now. Everything was quiet and as I neared the house, my heart beat increased. I was getting angry again. Thankfully, though, my assumption was right and I didn't have to stew in my anger while I waited for Ashlynn's husband to answer the door. He was heading towards the car now. He still hadn't noticed it was me. I watched as he grinned stupidly and came over to the driver's side, intending to open the door for Ashlynn, who he assumed was coming home to him. His face fell when I stepped out of the car. "W-who are you?" He backed away from me. I smirked. "Your soon-to-be-ex-wife's boyfriend. I saw the bruise on her shoulder. And the one on her face." I stepped closer to him. He reeked of alcohol. Maybe he was more of a drinker than I was. You never know. He stepped towards me, nostrils suddenly flaring with anger. "You're the one that stole her! You!" "Stole her?" I snorted with laughter. "She left you. Ashlynn came to me willingly. I didn't steal anyone." "You stole her from me!" He staggered toward me, fists flying. I was caught off guard and one of his punches caught me in the jaw. Now, I wasn't much of a fighter, but when the time called for it I could take a punch and even throw a few good ones. I sent my own fist flying and landed a blow square in the middle of Michael's face. He seemed unaware of his nose, which sprang a leak of blood. His white T-shirt was soaked in red in just seconds. He was undeterred, though as he flew at me again. But this time I stepped out of the way. He landed against Ashlynn's El Camino with an "oof". I waited until he straightened up again, then grabbed his shoulder and sent my fist into his stomach a few times. I figured I'd done enough when he curled up on the ground, sniveling. I climbed into the car and barreled towards Atlanta. Ashlynn was going to kill me. - - - By the time I arrived back in Atlanta, a large bruise spread out across my lower jaw. It was a deep purple and it throbbed. Pulling up to Ashlynn's place, my stomach dropped. There she was, hands on hips, looking fucking irresistible in a pair of tight jeans and a tank top. Too bad she was pissed at me. Her face said it all: the narrow-eyed glare following the car, the tight lips, the furrowed eyebrows. I felt her eyes on me as I stepped out of the car. Like a scolded dog, I kept my head down as I approached the house. I entered the house without looking at Ashlynn. She stomped in behind me, slamming the door. "I asked you not to do that." Her voice was harsh. I sat down on the couch and sighed loudly. "It was something I had to do, Ashlynn." "Why? To show how manly you are? To win me? Something fucking stupid like that?" She scoffed. "I will never understand men. Ever." "I just wanted to get him back," I said weakly, frowning at her. She waved her hand dismissively. "Of course you did, James. But don't come crawling to me when you find yourself boxed in a fucking corner by six of Michael's peons. You're going to be in so much trouble." With that, Ashlynn stomped from the room, leaving the heat of her anger in her wake. I reclined on the couch, bunching my arms beneath my head as a pillow. There was no way I was braving the bedroom with Ashlynn angry like that. I drifted off, trying to convince myself that she was just exaggerating. |
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| Outlaw_Torn | August 11, 2011, 12:44 am Post #32 |
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loool That's the way to go, James! It's okay, Ashlynn will forgive him sooner or later, he had to do it.
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| disposable_hero | August 14, 2011, 2:41 pm Post #33 |
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Thanks for the feedback, girls. - - - When I woke up the next morning, I couldn't help but notice my bed was empty aside from me. I guess I got my point across, I thought, yawning loudly. My arms stretched over my head and I flexed my fingers. Heaving a sigh, I rolled out of bed and left the room. As I made my way down the stairs, a welcoming aroma entered my nostrils. Breakfast. French toast, to be exact. So he was making breakfast. It didn't make a difference. I was still angry. Sort of. "Morning," James called from the kitchen when I came to the bottom of the stairs. I mumbled a 'hello' and plopped down on the couch. My hand found the remote and I began aimlessly changing the channels. I settled on a rerun of The Golden Girls. I watched as Blanche's daughter surprised her mother with a visit. I zoned out after that. James broke my trance. "Hey, do you want any of this?" I looked up. He was grinning down at me, waving a plate of French toast and sausage under my nose. God, I couldn't stay mad at that. A smile spread across my face. "Yeah," I said softly. "I'll have some." James handed me the plate and I sat up, bunching my legs beneath my body. He sat down next to me. We ate in silence and watched four old women gallivant about their home. When we were finished, James cleaned up. He was so good at sucking up. It killed me. I smiled to myself, turning my attention back to the TV. My TV watching was disturbed when I felt a hand on my calf. James was back on the couch now, his hand moving up my leg. My eyebrows raised in his direction. "What?" He lifted his eyebrows back in response. His hand traveled to my thigh. "I'm not doing anything." "You're not...doing anything?" I smirked and placed my own hand on his thigh. The closer it moved to his groin, the wider his eyes grew. His hand squeezed my thigh and his head fell back a bit. "I'm not doing anything," I said, grinning slyly. James let out a breathy laugh and grabbed my wrist as I cupped his privates in my hand. "It's ten in the morning. That can wait." I pulled my hand away and let out an exaggerated gasp. "James Hetfield is declining a sexual invitation? No fucking way!" "I never said that. It's five past ten now." James smirked and kissed me softly. I returned the kiss and straddled his thighs. His arms wrapped tightly around my waist and his teeth tugged on my bottom lip. I could feel his hands lowering my shorts down my hips, but he stopped when there was a pounding on the door. "Fuck," James said, his voice gruff. I patted his shoulder reassuringly, then clamored off of the couch and hurried to the door. I pulled it open. No one was there. "Weird," I said, shrugging. I returned to the couch. James nervously rose from the couch and pulled me with him, looking over his shoulder as we climbed the steps. - - - The pounding persisted once we were upstairs. It sounded like someone was launching a frenzied attack on the door. "I knew this would happen," I said, sighing. I climbed off of the bed and peeked out the window. I was able to see the top of a bald head and an arm covered in tattoos pounding on the door. Immediately, I knew who it was. It was Johnny, Michael's "bodyguard". "He's trying to intimidate us. He does it to everyone who fucks with him. And God, did you fuck with him." I dropped the curtain and settled on the bed once more. "What do you mean? 'Everyone who fucks with him'? Why would people need to fuck with him? You said he's a stockbroker." James tilted his head, confused. "He is, but he's a bookie on the side. Or, should I say he's a stockbroker on the side. He caters to his..." I trailed off, sighing. "His people. The elite, I guess. He takes bets. Millions of dollars worth of bets on sports. It seems ridiculous, that a bookie would need to 'intimidate' people, but when you've got that much money..." James nodded, understanding what my trailing off meant. When you have that much money, you have people from every side hounding you: people telling you you owe them this much when you owe them that much; people trying to rob you; richer people keeping their own eyes on you. Michael needed idiots like Johnny to do his dirty work. Simultaneous sighs left our mouths as James and I reclined on the bed, curled into one another. We let the staccato song of Johnny's fist against the door keep us like that for three hours until we felt comfortable to move about the house again. - - - "So, I've got an idea," James said, leaning over his plate of arroz con pollo and clasped two fingers around the neck of his beer. He took a sip, then placed it back on the table. I bit into one of the two chicken enchiladas on my plate, waiting for him to continue. A song in Spanish wafted through the restaurant and people chattered around us. This was the first time we'd been out since the whole 'intimidation' nonsense. "I want you to move to California." I blinked. "You want me to what?" "Move to California. With me. You can move out now and I'll be there like, a week out of every month and I'll be back from tour in about six months. That will give you enough time to settle in." He raised his eyebrows as if goading me into agreeing. "This is all very...sudden." I blinked and took a pull from the bottle of beer in front of me. "Yeah, well, I was stupid and I didn't listen to you. Now we're being followed. Sorta." James poked at his food, lowering his eyes from mine. I rolled my eyes and polished off the rest of my beer. He was right. We were being followed by a pair of Michael's idiots. They weren't here at the moment, but there was an almost constant stakeout in front of Laura's house. Even she was starting to get frightened. I nodded. "I know. But one, I can't leave Laura here. And two, California is a bit extreme." "No, it's not. I've got the money to move Laura out, too. And I'm in California." His face softened and I felt the toe of his shoe caressing my ankle. He was trying so hard to convince me. "It's not about money. I have money. Laura has money. It's just...California. That's on the other side of the fucking country, baby." James shook his head. "It's not much different from here. It's the same atmosphere, minus the whole 'Southern charm' shit. It's warm. You've still got the water, even if it's a different ocean. The people are chill. You'd love it. And people will think your Southern drawl is cute." I laughed softly, shaking my head. "I don't have a drawl, but I'll think about it." - - - The day before James was set to leave, I had my decision. I would move to California. Laura, on the other hand, was reluctant. She eventually agreed, so long as she was able to get a dog once she was out there. "I could never have a dog in this house. The land lord's an asshole," is what she said. So it was settled. We were moving to San Francisco. Currently I was in my room, cramming some clothes into a box mislabeled 'Kitchen stuff'. James walked in from the shower, soaking my rug. A towel hung loosely off his hips and he had one in his hand, towel drying his hair. "Hey," he said to me before rummaging through his duffle bag for clean clothes. I watched with a smile as he turned up empty handed. "I washed your stuff. It's all downstairs." I closed the box I was working on. James sighed dramatically. "Come on, Ashlynn. You're so irresponsible. God." I let out a laugh. "Shut up. Go get your own clothes." "No, I'm okay. I'll just lounge around all day in this towel." He hopped onto the bed, then struck a provocative pose. He wiggled his eyebrows at me and I rolled my eyes. "Oh, yeah. You're so hot." My hands found another box and I began shoving more clothes into it. The mattress groaned as James rose from the bed. He laughed as he exited the room. - - - James' POV After I awkwardly encountered Laura, who was sitting in the living room, I hurried to the laundry room to retrieve my clothes. "Is there any food in the house?" I asked Laura, pulling a T-shirt over my head. She looked over at me, eyes narrowed. I had a feeling she didn’t like me too much, but I didn't blame her. Here I was, pulling her best friend away from her, intruding on her life, and now it was my fault that she was moving to California. "I'll take that as a 'no'. I'll go get pizza, do you want anything?" My gaze found hers and she shrugged. Shaking my head, I slipped my arms into my leather jacket. "Get me a vegetable stromboli," she called from the couch as I left the house. I took note of it as I started the engine of Ashlynn's El Camino, then headed for downtown Atlanta. It took me about a half hour or so to find a decent pizza place and by the time I did, it was about nine o'clock. And the place was in the shadiest part of Atlanta. Oh, well. One did a lot for pizza. I parked the car, yawning as I climbed out. As I walked to the pizza place, I heard footsteps behind me. They were quick and they were gaining up on me. I turned around and I was face-to-face with three guys my size. As they backed me into a nearby alley, I couldn't help but remember Ashlynn's words: Don't come crawling to me when you find yourself boxed in a fucking corner by six of Michael's peons. |
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| Outlaw_Torn | August 14, 2011, 11:30 pm Post #34 |
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Wee! They're moving to SF!
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| disposable_hero | August 15, 2011, 10:21 pm Post #35 |
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Ashlynn's POV James left the room, but he didn't return. I went downstairs to the living room and Laura told me he'd left to get food. That was at nine. It was eleven now and I was panicking. "Did he say where he was going?" My hands wrung the end of my shirt, stretching it to no end. Laura watched me as I paced incessantly from the window to the couch. "No, just that he was getting pizza," she said faintly, my nervousness obviously rubbing off on her. She wasn't nervous for James, I was sure, but for herself. It wasn't selfish since she didn't care about him like I did. I paced some more. This wasn't going well. Since we were being watched, it wasn't smart of James to go off alone in the first place, but this was too much. He'd been gone for way too long. Just as I was about to give up and go off looking for him, James stumbled through the door. At first glance, I thought he was drunk, but then I saw he was covered in dirt and he was clutching his arm to his chest as if it were hurt. "James!" I hurried over to him and he practically fell into my arms. Laura gasped and scurried across the room, slamming and locking the door. James and I fell to the floor. "James, what happened?" He looked up at me helplessly. It was as if he couldn't speak. He opened his mouth, then closed it. He did this a few times. A fish out of water. Finally, he spoke, "Three guys...followed me...and they said...they said Michael sent them. I think...I think my arm's broken. And my back hurts." Tears welled up in my eyes, then spilled down my cheeks. My crying didn't render me helpless, though. In my silence, I heaved James off of the floor. He cried out, cringing as we hobbled out the door and to my car. "Where are we going?" James asked, his voice soft with pain. I opened the passenger side door and got him in the seat before I answered. "To the hospital." - - - After waiting a few hours in the ER, James was finally admitted into the hospital. A few X-rays and a few painkillers later, we were informed that James' wrist was broken, but other than a few bruises, that was all that was wrong. But that wasn't true; we were scared to even leave the hospital. Once we did leave, however, James was going over what we were going to do. "Alright, I'm going to leave tomorrow. I'll say I broke my wrist skating, no problem. You and Laura will leave the day after. You're gonna take the El Camino cross country, right?" I nodded. "And you'll go to California. Everything will be fine." He took my free hand in his uncasted hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "Everything will be fine." I gulped audibly and looked at him. We'd been sitting in the idling car just a few blocks from Laura's house, afraid to get out. As much as he said everything would be fine, I couldn't help but doubt it. When Michael told me he was going to make my life a living hell, I didn't believe him, but now it was true. He was ruining my life. - - - Once James was back on tour and the house was packed up, Laura and I left for California. We had a U-haul attached to the El Camino. And then we left. I didn't bother telling my father, since we hadn't been on speaking terms since my wedding five years earlier and Laura didn't have any family aside from myself. It was as if we fell off the face of the Earth. We weren't completely invisible, though. It wasn't until we stopped for the night in Amarillo, Texas that I realized we were being followed. Michael was really into this. There was no stopping him. I decided not to tell Laura. She was being cautious and neurotic as it was and telling her that would only set her off. "I'm going to get a shower," Laura said, her voice happy for once. I definitely wasn't telling her about our being followed. She was calm. Maybe she was looking forward to California. Hell if I knew. I didn't know anything anymore. - - - James' POV "Goddammit, James!" Lars hurried over to me and flicked my cast. "Seriously, man? What the fock?!" "Skateboarding," I said brightly before flopping down on one of the two couches in the hotel room. I reached forward and snagged an open beer from the table in front of me. Lars shouted that it was his, but that only made me polish it off. Kirk entered the room and Jason followed suit. When they saw me, they groaned. "Come on, dude," Kirk said, sitting down next to me. Jason didn't say anything, just shook his head. I shrugged. "I was skateboarding, alright? It's fine. A roadie'll play for a few weeks." "What were you doing, trying to impress that fucking girlfriend of yours?" Lars laughed and sat on the opposite couch. Jason did the same. "Hey, fuck you. She's awesome. And she's moving to California." The room was silent. They were stunned that I, James Hetfield, was finally settling down. I didn't even like the sound of that. Settling down. I wasn't settling down. I was just getting started. "You can't be serious," Lars said, his eyes slicing through me. I averted my eyes and reached for another beer. Lars, I'm sure, figured it was bad enough I started a relationship with someone I barely knew, but this was terrible. To him, anyway. "You sound like a girl," I pointed out, which shut him up. I couldn't help but smirk. "Does she at least have any hot friends?" Lars sighed dramatically. I laughed, nodding. "Her cousin's moving with her. She's pretty hot, yeah. And she's shorter than you. So I guess that works out." Lars scoffed loudly. "Fock you! Chicks love me." "You keep telling yourself that, Lars." I laughed again, propping my feet up on the coffee table. Things were getting better. |
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| Outlaw_Torn | August 16, 2011, 2:34 am Post #36 |
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Poor James! I hope the girls can make it to California without any harm.
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| disposable_hero | August 18, 2011, 12:23 pm Post #37 |
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Lol you'll see! I should have an update up by Sunday or Monday...hopefully. |
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| Outlaw_Torn | August 18, 2011, 5:27 pm Post #38 |
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I'll wait!
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| disposable_hero | August 22, 2011, 1:01 am Post #39 |
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Ashlynn's POV We left Amarillo without incident. As if they sensed I was on to them, the pair of men that had been following us disappeared. I was still skittish, though. Every noise made me jump out of my skin; every person looked suspicious. I was losing it. Laura drove for the last eight or so hours of the trip and I zoned out, feigning interest in the scenery the desert offered me. Or lack thereof. My mind wandered aimlessly and my eyes clouded over. It was like I was sleeping with my eyes open. "Ash, we're here! Wake up!" Apparently, I hadn't been sleeping with my eyes open, because I woke up, slumped in my seat, to Laura shaking my shoulder. She was overly enthused and she gave me a headache. My eyes cracked opened and I recoiled at the late afternoon sun that penetrated them. I moaned in protest and rolled over in my seat, away from Laura. She whacked my shoulder. "Get up. We have to unload the U-haul and then return it." I listened as she climbed out of the car and slammed the door. She threw open the door of the U-haul, making as much noise as humanly possible. Bitch. Sitting up straight, I took a few deep breaths to recollect my tired self, then exited the car. I didn't understand why I was being so moody all of a sudden. The house before me was absolutely breathtaking. It was a sky blue, two-story Victorian row home with a small porch. Laura only told me we were renting to own a house, but she didn’t say it was gorgeous. "Shit," I said, making my way to where Laura was, my eyes still on the house. "How'd we bag this?" "I know people." Laura began taking boxes out of the U-haul and stacking them next to the car. I asked her for the keys and she passed them over. I thanked her and rushed into the house, like a little kid ready to pick out her new room. That's what I did, too. I darted from room to room, then back again. It was so hard to choose. It didn't help that I was indecisive as hell, either. I eventually decided on the front room, overlooking our new street. The walls were white and the windows were wide, allowing so much sunlight into the room that I would never have to use the lights during the day. I stood in front of my new windows and took a deep breath. Maybe this time I was really free. - - - Two months passed without any word or threat from Michael. My anxiety about the situation subsided and was replaced with apprehension for my surrounding environment. I hated change most of the time, so it took me a while to get used to San Francisco. I got a bartending job, nothing too demanding, and eventually settled in. Laura, equipped with a bachelor's degree in biology, got a job with a research lab. And she got a dog. It was a big furry thing named, ironically enough, Tiny. The three of us were finally comfortable here. It was June now. I hadn't seen James since the beginning of April. He was taking a break from touring, just a week and some days, and he was coming home. Home, I said to myself, frowning. It was weird that I referred to this as home. I guess I really was staying here for good. I was cooking dinner, waiting for James to arrive. I was a nervous wreck. I attempted to look nice, but gave up when I couldn't fit into any of my "nice" clothes. I guess the stress of a new environment made me gain weight. As I took the chicken from the oven, I made a mental note to stop eating like shit and start running again. "Helloooo?" Someone sang from the living room, shutting the door behind them. I almost dropped the tray I was holding. I let the tray clatter to the countertop as I raced into the living room. There was James, in a pair of denim cutoffs and a sleeveless Misfits T-shirt. I grinned stupidly. He took two steps toward me and gathered me up in his arms, lifting me off the ground a bit. I gripped his shoulders, laughing against his lips. I pulled away from him and he smiled, placing me on the ground. "Hey," he said, his hands still resting on my hips. "Hey yourself," I replied, pulling him towards the kitchen. He pulled me towards the stairs. I looked up and his blue eyes pleaded with me. "Later! I made dinner." James pouted. "Dinner can wait. I'm desperate." He tugged me closer to him and lifted me off the ground again. I struggled, laughing uncontrollably, as he carried me up the stairs. - - - James' POV "Where's your room?" Ashlynn pointed to the front of the house and I hurried in that direction, pushing the door open with my foot and tossing Ashlynn onto the bed when we arrived in the room. I relieved myself of my shoes and my pants and crawled onto the bed. I settled myself between Ashlynn's gorgeous, mile-long legs and buried my face into her neck. I inhaled, taking her scent in. "God, I've missed you." As my hands made their way up her shirt, Ashlynn laughed softly and I felt her shiver beneath my touch. "It's only been three months," she said, closing her eyes as my lips touched her collarbone. "Three months too long." My voice was a growl as I slipped Ashlynn's shirt over her head. I moved my hands over her curves, stopping at her hips. Just as I was about to lower her pants, the bedroom door banged open. "Goddammit, Laura!" Ashlynn cried out, pushing me off of her. I landed on the right side of the bed with a sigh. I looked to my left and saw not only Laura in the doorway, but Lars. He looked over her shoulder, grinning at me. "Whoops," Laura said, smothering her laughs in a fake cough. "I didn't think you'd be fucking already." Lars snorted with laughter. "If I didn't have sex for three months, I would totally be having sex right now." "What the fuck are you doing here?" I quipped, rolling off of the bed and retrieving my pants from the floor. My face was hot from blushing and I couldn't help but flip Lars off as he continued grinning. "I'm here to get you, man! We've got interviews in an hour. You told me your girlfriend's address and I was pounding on the door for twenty minutes before Laura here got home and let me in." He smiled smoothly at her and she scoffed. What a guy. I groaned, but briefly thanked God for Lars. He remembered all the shit we had to do when no one else would. He was the business of the band. During the break in the conversation, the four of us made our way downstairs. Lars was hanging out the door, ready to go, but he didn't keep his eyes off Laura's ass as she strode into the kitchen. He wasn't even trying to be indiscreet. He caught my eye. You're married, I mouthed to him, getting an eye roll in response. Again, what a guy. He laughed and walked down the steps, leaving the door open. Ashlynn tugged me toward her, her finger hooked in one of my jeans' belt loops. "You'll be back later, right?" She kissed me roughly and pressed her body to mine. I shivered when she ran a hand down my back. She kissed me again, pushing her tongue past my lips and as our tongues wrestled, my dick hardened. "You're a tease," I said, kissing her once more before I stepped away. I breathed deeply, recollecting myself, and she laughed. "Don't laugh. I won't come back. Ashlynn smiled softly and her green eyes sparkled mischievously. "You'll come back. I mean, it's been three long, terrible months without me, right?" She left me there, watching her, as she walked out of the living room with an exaggerated sway of the hips. Tease, I thought as I closed the front door behind me. But she was right: I would so be back later. - - - Ashlynn's POV There was pressure on the back of my neck. Lips. Arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me to a strong chest. I stirred, opening my eyes. It was dark and James was back. I'd fallen asleep waiting for him. My back was pressed to his chest and his hands crept up my shirt, finding and caressing my breasts. Tweaking my nipples. I moaned at the sudden contact and the cold his hands brought. Any trace of sleepiness had left me and I was suddenly ravenous. I now understood what James meant by "three months too long". His hands left my chest and found the waist of my pants, bringing them down my legs. He was grinding his pelvis against me and he slipped a hand into my underwear. I writhed, biting my bottom lip, as he toyed with my clit. When I let out a sigh of satisfaction, he laughed softly and moved his hand out of my underwear. As I heard the unbuckling of a belt, I slipped off my underwear. James didn't hesitate to push himself inside of me once his jeans were on the floor. We both gasped, overwhelmed by the suddenness. It'd been way too long since we last made love. James' breath was hot against my neck and his arms were tight around my waist as he thrusted in and out of me. I rocked against his thrusting cock and gripped his hands. He emitted a loud moan and I cried out. We fell into a rough lovemaking, driving me into a black hole of ecstasy. Every cell in my body was screaming his name. I couldn't breathe. He began playing with my clit again. His thrusts roughened and his breathing grew ragged. "Oh, shit! Fuck! I'm coming!" James was delirious, just howling. He was pumping in and out of me so quickly that I was trembling with my impending orgasm, gasping for breath. I cried out, digging my nails into the back of his hand that clutched my stomach so tightly. We came in unison, yelling each other's names. As we caught our individual breaths, James clutched me to him. He planted kisses along the side of my neck. "I love you," he whispered softly. "So much. You make me so happy." I rolled over to face him and smiled, my face still flushed red from the exertion of our lovemaking. "What's this, the pouring out of your feelings?" I was whispering, too. "No," he said, placing his chin on my head. There was a smile in his voice. "I'm just letting you know. In case you ever forget." He was kidding himself. I would never forget him or his love for me. Whatever we'd been through in the last five months and whatever we would go through in the future was suddenly okay with me. All the bad stuff was great just because he was here, because he loved me. It was so easy now. I loved the simplicity and I loved him. I was so happy. But things could only stay perfect for so long, right? |
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| Auluna Raie | August 22, 2011, 2:03 am Post #40 |
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Shark-Tastic!
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Oh shit! *runs to put on helmet and dive into bunker* |
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| disposable_hero | August 22, 2011, 2:11 am Post #41 |
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Frantic
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| disposable_hero | August 22, 2011, 3:37 am Post #42 |
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Frantic
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Another part because I can't sleep. It's all from Ashlynn's POV. I hope you don't hate it! Also, excuse any mistakes. I was too lazy to proofread. - - - I woke up the next morning with a sudden pain in my stomach. I threw back the covers and rushed out of the room. When I got to the bathroom I kneeled over the toilet, waiting. I knew what was coming. My stomach felt like it was tying itself into some complicated knot, expelling its innards. I retched and up come last night's dinner. Up came some stomach lining. When I was sure I was finished getting sick, I lay down on the floor. My cheek was pressed against the cool porcelain tiles when there was a knock on the door. "Ash? Ashlynn? Are you okay?" It was Laura. I called out that it was probably food poisoning and she left me alone, obviously deterred. But as I stared up at the blinding white of the ceiling, I couldn't help but think over my...symptoms, so to speak. I was getting fat, I was moody as hell, and now I had morning sickness. I'd had these problems before. When I was in high school, right before I got married. "Pregnant," I said out loud, the alien word bouncing off the tiles of the bathroom in an echo. If I was pregnant, my relationship with James was over. My mind wandered to the phone conversation we'd had a few months ago when he thought I was pregnant. He was fucking terrified. I got up from the floor, shaking my head. Clutching the sink, I looked into the mirror. I told myself I wasn't pregnant. It was impossible. The complications of my last pregnancy, the one that forced me to marry Michael, left me unable to get pregnant again. The doctors said so. They had been the best doctors money could buy, so they couldn't have been wrong. Could they? I glared at my reflection, willing myself to shut up. I wasn't pregnant. It couldn't happen. I pushed the thought from my mind as I washed my face and brushed away the sick smell from the breath with my toothbrush some toothpaste. As I left the bathroom, I looked down at my feet. They were red and swollen. Chalk another one up for pregnancy. - - - Two days passed. I didn't mention anything about my potential pregnancy to anyone. The thought of it made me sick. I didn't need a baby. I didn't want a baby. I wasn't ready for it. I cursed myself, thinking about it while I was supposed to be having fun. I was out with James, Laura, Kirk, Lars, and Jason. While everyone was knocking back drinks, I nursed a beer in my lap. I was tired and I didn't feel like drinking. I watched my boyfriend, my best friend, and my newly made friends converse amongst themselves and share laughs. Whenever one of them attempted to lasso me into the fun, I claimed I was tired. They didn't seem concerned and I was perfectly okay with being left alone. I didn't want to talk, but I needed something to keep my mind off the pregnancy thing. There was nothing I could do but think about it. Dwell on it. Obsess over it. If you're pregnant, which you probably are, your life in California, your life with James, is over. He can't handle this. You can't handle this. He's always on the road. You'd be alone with a baby you don't know how to take care of. This situation can't get any better. If my conscience had a face, I would punch it. I needed some air. I didn't bother excusing myself and left the table. I pushed through throngs of people to the exit, excusing myself when needed. When I got outside, my eyes found the sky. Despite the brightness of the city, I could easily make out a few stars twinkling in the sky. I smiled, comforted by their familiarity. In Andersonville, stars blanketed the sky at night; it was beautiful. Leaning against the wall, I lost myself in the coolness of the San Francisco night. The door I exited out of banged open suddenly, breaking my daze. Laura and the rest tumbled out into the alley, laughing and talking loudly. All of them were hopelessly drunk. "Cabs! Someone get them!" Someone, maybe Kirk, yelled as the group ambled onto the street. I followed behind them. Cabs were hailed and I slid into one with James, who was about to pass out. I hated that, the fact that he drank to such excess. I lost Laura to another cab. I rested my head on the top of the backseat, staring up at the torn felt of the taxi's ceiling. It was then that I realized I didn't care. About losing Laura; about James' alcoholic behavior; about anything. I was too tired to care. "Ashlyyyyyn," James sang under his whiskey-smelling breath, moving with the sway of the cab. He nuzzled into my neck, laughing softly. I ignored him. The cab turned onto my street and James went with it, bouncing off the car door. After paying the cabbie, I herded James into the house. He hit the couch when we got inside. It wasn't a sleep he was in, either. He was passed out. I sighed, made sure his head was turned to the side in case he got sick in the night, and went upstairs. - - - The next day, I took a pregnancy test. It was positive. I took another and that was positive. I took three more and they were positive. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror and I was positive. I was positive that I was pregnant. There was no escaping it. As I exited the bathroom, brushing tears from my face, I ran into Lars. A half-naked Lars, at that. He cursed, embarrassed, but apologized. "Uh, sorry. I was just gonna...use the bathroom." I stepped out of his way. "By all means." He grunted a thanks, then scurried into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. I heard the lock click as I walked towards Laura's room. I found my friend there, nude but for the sheet wrapped around her. "You didn't," I said, leaning against the door frame. She grimaced, but nodded. "I totally did." "God, Laura. You're supposed to be the responsible one!" I shook my head. "You're twenty-three! You went to college! You know it's wrong to fuck someone who's married!" I was messing with her, of course. Laura laughed. She grabbed one of the pillows from the bed and chucked it in my direction. "Get out of here!" I left the room, laughing softly. At least someone was having fun. - - - I waited a week to tell James. I couldn't hide it from him. The end of the tour, when he would be in California again, was four months away. By then, I'd be a whale. I called the hotel he was staying at around two in the afternoon to insure that he wasn't tired or drunk and that he was totally aware of what was going on. He picked up the phone after three rings. "Hello? Who's this?" "It's me." James' voice went from inquisitive to smooth in seconds. "Hey, baby. What's up?" I almost smiled. "Nothing much, but we need to talk." "Do I need to come home this time?" "No," I answered, conjuring up a fake laugh. "I mean, it's pretty big." "Continue..." "Okay, well...I'll come right out with it. I uh...I'm pregnant." I heard the phone hit the floor. There was some cursing before James got back on the phone. "Say that again. I'm pretty sure I misheard you." "I'm pregnant." "No, you're not. You're joking," he said, his voice shaking. "I'm pregnant, James. I'm not joking." "Fuck!" I listened as James picked something up and threw it. It crashed, the sound echoing to the phone. He dropped the phone again. He took his time picking it up this time. "This sucks! This fucking sucks! I...I don't know what to say besides that. I hope you weren't expecting me to be happy or whatever." I let out a sigh. "I wasn't. Don't think I'm enthusiastic about this, either." "I'll call you in a few days, okay?" James was being childish. He didn't want to talk about the situation at hand. When I didn't answer him, he persisted, "Okay, Ashlynn?" "Yeah, James. Whatever." I put down the phone. I looked down at my stomach. I poked it. The life stirring inside me was ruining my life. Thanks a lot, fetus. You life ruiner. |
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| Auluna Raie | August 22, 2011, 5:13 am Post #43 |
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Shark-Tastic!
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*refortifies bunker and puts out a "Vacancy" sign for other metchicks* |
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| ilovejaymz | August 24, 2011, 9:28 am Post #44 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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*gets into the bunker* Oh nooo... please hurry up with an update.. loving the story
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| disposable_hero | August 24, 2011, 11:13 am Post #45 |
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Frantic
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Aw, thank you. And I should have an update up by tomorrow or Friday. I just started school so things are hectic. ;_; |
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That's the way to go, James!
I hope the girls can make it to California without any harm.

8:43 PM Jul 10