#charlie spring is the prettiest boy

[nicxxx5]

it's technically over but happy birthday to the prettiest boy charlie spring <3

[arachine]

pairing: shy!inexperienced!charlie walker x fem!reader warnings: corruption, blow job, unprotected sex, loser charlie, whiny charlie + so sorry for clogging ethan’s tags but i am a whore for interaction! reblogs are highly appreciated >.< wc: 750

corruption with shy!inexperienced!charlie is something so special to me. just the sheer mental image of him trembling beneath your touch. head fogged with lust, palms all slick with perspiration because his hands have been nestled in the thick of your hair for the past half hour.

he’s very well past his limit, and you know this, but you disregard his—rather ill—attempts to swat you away. one more, you tell him. but one more is never really one more. it’s two more, then three more, then six more—and now he’s lost count. so instead of fighting, he relinquishes his body to you. lets you tease and touch, lick and suck, until his limbs melt into the plush of his stab themed duvet. 

“oh, god,” he groans with a hand thrown over his mouth, “‘m gonna, ‘m gonna–shit–yeah, keep doing that.” immediately, you pull off of him with a wet pop, wiping away a dew droplet of spit from the side of your mouth. 

“that feel good?” you query, smoothing a gentle palm up and down his shaft. there’s a hint of mischief in your voice–it’s teasing, but nonetheless, the question is genuine. 

“yeah, ’s ni–“ charlie starts, but is promptly cut off when you lick a long stripe up his length. like a minx, you furrow your brows and feign confusion—as if you don’t know what you’re doing when you lick him like that—look at him like that. when you rub the smooth skin of your cheeks against it, and leave a trail of wet kisses along the side of it. 

“huh? couldn’t hear you, baby,” you pout, rubbing a thumb up and over his weeping slit. the boy mumbles an expletive under his breath. sits up on his elbows and flashes you a look of disdain for making him repeat himself, though, you know it’s disingenuous. 

“f-feels…good,” he manages to huff out, “really good.” you smile at his sincerity, and halt your ministrations altogether, rising from your haunches to stand above him. the loss of touch coaxes a noise from him, somewhere in between a whine and a whimper, and he almost slips from the bed trying to pull you back towards him. 

“nuh uh,” you admonish, nudging his chest back with the tip of your foot. when he tries to move again, you push him all the way down against the bed, until your foot rests flat and firmly on the crest of his chest. this time, he seems to get it, ultimately accepting defeat. he retrieves back to his initial position, and plants his elbows deep into the cushion of his mattress.

charlie watches intuitively as you slowly retract your foot. his eyes dance across the expanse of your face, and although the room is dimly lit, he can still make out the devilish smirk gracing your features. one by one, you begin to discard articles of clothing, and it’s then that charlie’s starting to get the picture. oh, he thinks, it’s happening.

he feels like he should do something, like he should prepare, but he knows that any advance he makes will only result in another reprimanding. and, fuck, he can’t help but to squirm around because never in his wildest dreams did he think he’d be in this position—both figuratively and literally—which is, naked from the waist down, leaning back on his embarrassingly small twin sized bed, while the prettiest girl at woodsboro high strips down in front of him. 

and not only did you suck him off, but you were going to take his virginity. at least he thinks you are. because now you’re inching closer to him, and straddling him, and—

“holy shit,” he drawls, involuntarily springing forward when you sink down on him. an intense flood of warmth surges to the pit of his belly like liquid lightning, and like the virgin he is, he almost lets a load out right then and there. pathetic, he thinks. 

“not g-gonna last, not like this,” he spits through gritted teeth, “too warm, ’s t-too much, i c-can’t.” though, before he can finish, you interrupt him with a drag of your hips, and raise a single digit to his lips.

“shh, i know, i know. you’re doing so good,” the pad of your thumb swipes his cheek, “gonna take care of you, make you feel good,” you assure, “don’t you want me to help you?”

“y-yeah, shit, yeah,” charlie nods, throwing his head back against his sheets.

“then give me one more.” 

© arachine 2023

[ao3feed-narlie]

Coming Out

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Y8TFfJR by KRollins Nick was gonna do it today. He wouldn’t say he was… comfortable in his sexuality. But he had accepted it. He knew he wasn’t straight, and he was okay with that. It was terrifying, but it was a fact he had finally come to terms with. And given Charlie was certainly the person who had awakened that part of him, he felt his best friend had a right to know the turmoil he was dealing with. At first, he’d thought it was just Charlie, and it made no sense. He’d never looked at a boy and felt any special way, but he remembers looking at girls even from a young age and thinking they were pretty. But then there was Charlie. Charlie, who he thought was the prettiest person on planet Earth. Charlie, who routinely put his body on the line to protect himself and others. Charlie, who teased him relentlessly and set his face on fire. Charlie, who he’d helped patch up on more than one occasion over the course of their few months of friendship. Charlie, who looked hot as hell when he smirked after winning a fight. ~ Or: The Heartstopper AU that's basically: What if Charlie decided the bullies could catch these hands? And Nick decides to come out to his badass bestie/crush. An alternate of their first kiss ;) Words: 7018, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 2 of No BS Charlie AU Fandoms: Heartstopper (TV), Heartstopper (Webcomic) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Nicholas "Nick" Nelson, Charles "Charlie" Spring (Heartstopper), Darcy Olsson, Tara Jones, Elle Argent, Tao Xu (Heartstopper), Isaac Henderson (Heartstopper), Benjamin "Ben" Hope, Victoria "Tori" Spring, Sarah Nelson, Jane Spring Relationships: Nicholas "Nick" Nelson/Charles "Charlie" Spring Additional Tags: Head Injury, Injury, Violence, Bullying, First Kiss, Getting Together, Pre-Relationship, Coming Out, Confident Charles "Charlie" Spring (Heartstopper), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Charles "Charlie" Spring (Heartstopper) Being a Little Shit, Protective Charles "Charlie" Spring (Heartstopper), Nicholas "Nick" Nelson Loves Charles "Charlie" Spring, Charles "Charlie" Spring Loves Nicholas "Nick" Nelson, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Light Angst, Benjamin "Ben" Hope Being an Asshole, Past Benjamin "Ben" Hope/Charles "Charlie" Spring, Benjamin "Ben" Hope is His Own Warning, Benjamin "Ben" Hope Being Benjamin "Ben" Hope, charlie fights ben, but at what cost, Love Confessions, Boys In Love, Idiots in Love, because they really are both idiots when it comes to each other, Falling In Love read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Y8TFfJR

[intrstellarhearts]

things in the common room at welton that just make sense. (dead poets society)

fandom: dead poets society

type of writing: headcanons / scenario

word count: 698

request: yes / no  

characters: todd anderson, neil perry, charlie dalton, richard cameron, stephen meeks, gerard pitts, knox overstreet

a/n: requests are open!! :)

dps taglist: @hotshot624

(message me or send an ask if you'd like to be included in the dps taglist!)

-----------------------✰--------------------

an open window. nolan has instructed the boys time and time again to close it when they leave, and yet it always ends up open. it lets a cool breeze in during the first few weeks of the school year, when the heat is insufferable. one year, charlie opened it during a snowstorm. his face was immediately frozen, and he turned around slowly to the laughter of his friends, face covered in powdery flakes that melted just as quickly as they landed on him.

several mugs full of pencils. though they always start the year full with sharp utensils, it’s nearly guaranteed that two weeks in nearly every single one is broken, dull, or just gone. the boys have no idea that keating often re-sharpens the pencils for them after they’ve gone to bed.

a communal calendar. it’s small, and often tucked in a bookshelf so it won’t get into the wrong hands. there are pictures of the city on every page. todd’s brother gave it to him. every person on their floor wrote down their birthday, and it’s checked nearly every day. the days when spring, winter, and summer break begin are marked with bold, red letters that read “FREEDOM”.

a wall of pictures, in the nook by the window. they’ve been putting them up for so long that many of the faces are unrecognizable. the poets like to play a game where they try to figure out who the person is, where they’re from, who they are now. they’re usually wrong, but once, they were right.

a toolbox. this is mostly for meeks & pitts & their lovely little inventions. i like to think one of pitts’ brothers or something told him to bring a toolbox “just in case”, and though he thought it was stupid at the time, the wrenches and screwdrivers and things that are in there allow him to make things that he never thought were possible.

a globe, the really nice kind that’s almost as tall as your waist and spins every which way. they’re meant to use it for geography assignments. sometimes todd and neil play a game where they’ll spin it as fast as they can, close their eyes, and stop it. they have to explain everything they know (or make up) about the place where their finger lands, and why the other simply HAS to go there.

one single strand of black hair. i know this sounds dumb. BUT if dps takes place in 1959 then i can make this work. charlie came in after a break with something in his hands. and cameron was DYING to know what is was because he wouldn’t tell him. turns out it was this one piece of hair. and so he was like “dalton what the hell is that i don’t even know what to say”. charlie insists it’s a piece of elvis’ hair. but he won’t say how he got it, where he got it, or give any proof whatsoever. despite that, it lives in infamy right next to the window. (until a strong breeze causes it to be lost, in which case charlie dalton will need a brief grieving period and the creation of a memorial.)

ok back to more normal stuff. pressed flowers and leaves. i’d like to think that this is something that todd just does, like he’ll just pick up flowers he likes and put them in heavy books like it’s nothing. and so when the other poets saw him do it for the first time, they were intrigued. he taught them all how to do it, and now there’s a shoebox nearly overflowing with the prettiest flowers and leaves you’ll ever see.

a lamp that’s most definitely a fire hazard. every time it turns on it fizzles and pops… it’s hum is nearly deafening. it’s always entertaining to see someone’s reaction to it the first time they see it. but the sound of the lamp seemingly self-destructing is strangely soothing -- to those who have been at welton for a long time, they see themselves in it. for though you’d think it would have exploded by now, it’s still standing, flickering and providing light despite all it’s been through.

-----------------------✰--------------------

[motownfiction]

warm days with you

After Emma was born, one of Lucy’s biggest fears was that Elenore would feel left out. She was eleven then – thirteen now – and even though she’d had most of a childhood already, Lucy was nervous that she’d feel neglected just when she needed her mother the most. She keeps having visions of Elenore falling in love with the wrong kind of guy because her mother wasn’t there to tell her what to look for. She keeps having visions of Elenore hitching her wagon to the first OK-ish guy she meets. Now that she has this big crush on her best friend, Sean, Lucy sits awake at night, worried.

It’s not that Sean is a bad kid. Not at all. He’s perfectly nice. He says please and thank you, and he really seems to enjoy Elenore’s company. Always has, ever since they moved here when Elenore was in the second grade. They seem like they have a really great time together. But there’s just something about Sean that gives Lucy a little bit of pause. Maybe she’s being too harsh on him. He’s only recently turned thirteen, and it would be too much to ask him to know himself. But there’s just something there. A permanent wishy-washiness that you’re born into, that you can’t grow out of. Will says that she’s being too judgmental and unrealistic because she’s afraid of losing her eldest daughter, because she’s afraid Elenore won’t have the richly textured life that Lucy has always wanted for her (and so badly). He says Lucy got lucky with a guy like him because he got lucky enough to know her. There’s a point in there somewhere. It doesn’t negate the gnawing feeling in Lucy’s gut whenever she thinks about Elenore growing up alongside this boy who’s just OK.

Toward the end of the school year, Lucy has an idea. On a Wednesday – a day where she teaches no classes – she doesn’t wake Elenore up for school. It’s her skip day for the semester, just when she thought she wasn’t going to have one this time around. She takes her dear sweet time getting dressed and ready for a nice day with her mother. It’s the first warm day of the spring, and they have a lot to talk about.

As they walk along the street near their building, Lucy asks Elenore why she has such a crush on Sean. Just like Lucy expected (and worried), Elenore turns bright pink, and her eyes look like two pretty sequins in her head. Infatuation at its best. Same as its worst.

“Oh, Mom, he’s just so perfect,” she says. “Perfect for me, anyway. We laugh at all the same stuff. He always agrees with me. He can predict what I’m going to say. And … I don’t know, I think he has the prettiest eyes.”

“You like green eyes?” Lucy asks.

“I like Sean’s eyes.”

Lucy nods. Fair enough. Maybe she’s forgotten that Charlie, her first-ever crush, has green eyes, too. Maybe that’s a good thing.

“I know you really like him,” Lucy says. “But I also want you to know that you’re thirteen. You don’t have to like the same guy forever. You can like different guys, and you can like them at whatever pace you want.”

“But you didn’t like more than one guy,” Elenore says. “Right?”

Lucy sighs.

“No, not really,” she says. “But that was different. Daddy and I … we’re meant to be together in a way that a lot of couples aren’t. We didn’t force it. We just … we were, and we are. That’s all there is to it. It’s the kind of love you can’t explain because if you could, I’d have written three or four books about it by now.”

Elenore nods.

“OK,” she says. “So, why couldn’t I have that kind of love with Sean?”

Lucy doesn’t know how to say it nicely. So, she says it the way it comes to her mind, and she knows she’ll probably pay for it later.

“I think you’d already know by now,” she says. “By the time I was almost done with seventh grade, I knew for sure I was going to marry your dad. And not that ‘for sure’ you can force yourself to feel. I knew it like I knew basic arithmetic.”

“Which you weren’t good at.”

Lucy grits her teeth. The kid just had to go there.

“I still knew what to do with one and one,” she says. “And I still knew what to do with your father. Do you feel that way about Sean? Be honest.”

Maybe she’s being too pushy. She’s definitely being too pushy. But when she thinks about Elenore being alone, at home, nursing a broken heart with no ideas about how to get out of it, it makes her sick. It’s probably a bad thing to assume your daughter’s first real crush is going to break her heart. But there’s just something so thin about this Sean kid. Too thin for someone as substantial and strong as Elenore. There’s no one in the world like Elenore. Maybe nobody else will ever fully understand her. Maybe no one else will ever fully earn her love.

And oh, how that beautiful girl can love. When she gets your arms around you, you pray she never lets you go. It was just like that when she was a new baby, and it’s just like that today. Elenore’s embrace isn’t a normal one. It’s all her own, and she is a miracle.

It’s been about a minute, and Elenore hasn’t answered anything about Sean.

“I like the sunshine,” she says, kind of quietly.

“Yeah,” Lucy agrees. “It’s my favorite type of weather. Surprises people, I think. A lot of my colleagues assume I must be a thunderstorm kind of woman.”

“Thunderstorms are scary.”

“See, you speak my secret language.”

“Only because you taught it to me!”

Lucy laughs. Elenore has spoken her secret language since before she was even born. She’s fluent in her mother’s pauses and silences. Surely, she’ll be able to parse through a few more of them today.

“It’s my favorite thing in the world, you know,” Lucy says.

“The sun?” Elenore asks.

“Yeah. But mostly just warm days with you.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Lucy sees Elenore with a big grin on her face. Without thinking, Lucy grins to match it. They probably won’t talk about love and relationships and setting standards for the rest of the afternoon.

For now, it’s just enough to make her girl smile.

(part of @nosebleedclub march challenge -- day 30!)

[g0ttal0ve101]

Confession

Note: RIAM ATTACK 💥💥 ok but seriously I haven’t written anything in weeks bc I’m deathly ill soooo here’s this to make up for it! TW: domestic abuse, kidnapping, obsessive behavior.

████████████████████

“You fucking anorexic whore!”

One more drink should cast the thought away for good this time. At least, that’s what Riley kept telling herself. Cup after cup, song after song, she found herself almost too drunk to even think straight. That was fine. It was better than thinking about him going off with another girl.

The booze took away from the pain of her bruise planted underneath her eye, but it didn’t help her escape from the looks she kept getting from the other guests at the party. She figured she must have looked awful — Many others would beg to differ. Even with that nasty purple wound on her pale complexion, she was one of the prettiest girls of Woodlyn High. With eyes that resembled a meadow after sweet spring rain and hair the color of ravenous flames, it was hard not to spare a glance or two. Although, Jordan didn’t seem to think that. And if he didn’t care to look at her, she knew that she wasn’t worth looking at.

“Hey.”

God, that voice was painfully familiar. Turning her head in the direction of the sound, she let out a soft groan. “Huh?”

There she saw Thomas Hall — The valedictorian of her grade and host of this party. He leaned over her like a hawk preying upon its next meal with a sick grin plastered on his face. She knew whatever was going to be said or done wasn’t going to be good. Trying desperately to think of a way out, she notably took in her surroundings again. He chuckled from the sight.

“You single?”

“Fuck off, Thomas…”

“No, seriously. Did Jordan break up with you?”

There was a pause for a brief moment or two. Putting the brim back to her lips and chugging down the rest of the alcohol contained within it, she prayed to God that she wouldn’t say something she’d ultimately regret.

It was almost inevitable once she opened her mouth. “For now, yeah…mmh, to go out with ‘nother bitch tonight. He’ll be back tomorrow…” Her words slurred together miserably as she became almost incomprehensible.

Thomas sat down beside her, presumably locking into the conversation. Only then did she see his three friends behind him; David Nixon, Freddy Brooks, and Charlie Allen. It seemed like her future was getting darker and darker as time progressed. It wasn’t a good idea to get involved with these guys. Once they have even a little piece of information to hold above your head, they’ll be able to control your every move. That must be what they’re trying to accomplish right now. Riley scoffed from the thought.

“Well, y’know…I’ve always had the hots for you, Riley.” Thomas hummed, grabbing her empty cup to pour stronger alcohol inside. She had almost forgotten she was sitting in the kitchen by herself where all the drinks were. However, she didn’t recognize this brand. It must be expensive. “My door’s always open.”

“Fuck you and your door.” She spat right back at him, snatching the cup from his hand and taking a hesitant sip. “I won’t fuck on a pussy ass momma’s boy. Skip me on that.”

That description he heard of himself made his smile widen. She rejected him. That made this even more fun. “Isn’t Jordan a momma’s boy? I figured you just had a type. Anyway though, wanna go bust him and that slut?”

Her eyes turned to saucers. “What…?”

“They’re fucking in her car right now.” The rasp in his voice grew thicker as he grew more eager for her reaction. “Don’t you wanna show them who’s in charge, Riley? Don’t you want him back?”

All those words rubbed her in all the right ways. If she were sober, she could’ve seen through his cunning tactics. However, she couldn’t even see straight anymore, so there was no way of indicating anything was astray. She believed him without a second of a doubt.

Standing up wasn’t so easy. Placing her weight on her feet and stumbling forward, she crashed into a chair immediately. It wasn’t until Thomas grabbed a hold of her that she managed to fix her posture.

“Get off me.” Riley snapped, shoving him away as harshly as she could in the moment. It felt like her body was moving in slow motion. The alcohol surely did numbers in her. Once she felt his hands on her again, she raised her voice. “I SAID GET THE FUCK OFF ME, YOU STUPID MANWHORE! GOD!”

His laughter indicated he got the reaction he wanted all along. It made her sick to her stomach to think about. The trek began shortly after without another word exchanged between them.

People. Lights. Music. Everything disorientated the drunk girl entirely. She made sure to keep her eyes on Thomas while navigating her way through the crowd, but every now and then she believed she spotted Jordan in the crowd and lost her focus. When that happened, Charlie continued to shove her forward. She was too tired to scold him. Besides, she knew that he was only doing that because he wanted Thomas’s approval.

“Where’s the car?” Her voice murmured as she nearly knocked into an innocent bystander. “Mmh…I don’t gotta nice knife on me…only this shitty pocket one.”

The back door opened. December air smacked against their faces as they stepped out onto the porch. Although it was so cold, Riley felt warmer and lighter than ever. The thought of killing this bitch became more prominent and exciting to the point she trembled a bit with each step. Bliss that overwhelmed her systems suddenly grew sour as Thomas turned to face her, clearly having some sort of ace up his sleeve. She was too drunk to care. All she wanted was to beat this girl’s ass for touching Jordan in ways Riley could never hope to.

“Okay, I’ll deal with the bodies after you’re done.” Thomas bubbled as the two of them started down the steps. It was only then that she noticed the other three guys weren't following along. It freaked her out a little but the alcohol in her system, again, drowned out the worries. “I mean, you’re gonna kill Jordan too, right?”

With a scoff, she flicked out the pocket knife. “No.”

That wasn’t the answer he was expecting. Raising an eyebrow and scanning the driveway area for her car, he pondered his thoughts out loud. “But he cheated on you and beat your ass. Don’t you think that's—?”

Sticking her index finger against his chest and getting in his face, she drunkenly blabbered. “Shut the hell up, Thomas! Having sex with some girl don’t mean shit! He still loves me! He still loves me...” Her voice trailed off as she desperately tried to convince herself that was the case. Thomas simply observed her behavior with a smug grin.

“No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t and that’s okay. I have a client who’ll be more than willing to show you the love you deserve.”

Her eyes darted toward him and in that second, she almost saw the look of empathy on his face. However, as quickly as that expression came, it went. David snatched her up from behind and shoved a cloth drenched in chloroform across her mouth and nose, tightly gripping her so she couldn’t squirm away. Thomas had thought she was pretty before but with that horrified expression, she looked absolutely stunning.

“It’s okay, don’t fight it! David’s not a pervert or anything. Well, at least not toward girls—!”

“Shut the fuck up before I knock you out next...” David grumbled, knowing damn well she might be acquainted with Lucian. (Which was more or less the reason why he was being so gentle with her.)

With a harsh shove to the back, Riley found herself being throttled into the backseat of a beat-up car. Only then did she understand that this was all a set up. Jordan wasn’t out here at all. In fact, he was probably at home with a bitch he found at the party already. Tears welled in her eyes from the thought. Although, it didn’t do her any good to cry.

████████████████████

By the time Riley regained consciousness, she had forgotten what happened. She figured she was in her own bed, falling behind on making breakfast for her little brother. For that reason alone, she got up despite her rough hangover and began stumbling around the dimly lit room to get changed. She reached for her dresser only to see her reflection staring right back at her — A mirror.

But she didn’t have any mirrors in her room.

“You’re awake.”

Riley let out a sharp gasp and nearly collapsed onto the piece of furniture, trying to decipher the dark figure standing by the door. The sound of its lock sealing echoed throughout the room.

Her immediate response was to grab the pocket knife from her jacket. However, when her hand went to tuck itself away and search for it, she found that her jacket was missing. Not only that, but so were her pants and shoes. Her heartbeat rang throughout her eardrums.

“A-Are you scared?” The voice grew soft and shaky. All the fear that she felt once before became a bit muffled whenever hearing the silhouette’s tone. “D…Don’t be scared. I hope T-Thomas didn’t hurt you…” Approaching her, Riley finally saw his face.

“Or he’d be breaking the deal.”

Beyond confused, Riley’s shoulders drooped and her eyebrows furrowed. “Sam…? Sam, is that you?”

Sam, one of Riley’s only friends, stood before her. Grasping onto his sweater and swallowing against the lump in his throat, he nodded sheepishly. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s m…me.”

There was a brief pause. Sam’s mind spiraled in circles as he tried to muster out the words he wanted to assure her with. Even knowing that this could be Sam’s doing, Riley waited patiently for him to get out what he needed to say. And for that reason, he couldn’t help but feel more attracted to her.

“I-I want y-yuh…you to be m…” Clenching his eyes shut and lowering his head, he couldn’t bear to look her in the eye. “…my girlfriend! Please be my girlfriend, Riley!”

Her eyes widened like saucers. This was the first time she had ever received a confession like this. The only reason she and Jordan were dating was because she begged him to be her boyfriend. That’s why whenever she saw Sam like this, she couldn’t help but see herself.

“Sam…”

“I put poison in Jordan’s drink last night. He’s in critical condition at the hospital.” His voice went monotone, thick and dull. All emotion he once had completely drained away. “I’m the only one with the antidote. If you don’t break up with him I-I’ll let him fucking die. I’ll let him die, Riley, and he’s gonna hurt.”

Even when saying such horrible things, Riley was astonished by the glint of pure obsession embedded in his irises. He loved her. Even if they hardly spoke before this, even if this was the first time she truly locked eye contact with him, he loved her more than Jordan ever did.

“…Okay.”

“Wh…What?” Sam’s voice shook as he snapped out of his state of delusion. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. No, not even that — He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Riley was smiling ear to ear. She didn’t look hurt or upset or anything. Rather, she appeared to be in utter bliss from the threat. Laughter escaped her throat as she held herself tight. “Okay! I’ll break up with him and get with you. That’s fine. So, get the antidote to him.”

Blinking in utter disbelief, Sam took a step or two backward. “A-Are you ser—?”

“You have no idea how serious I am.” She hummed, closing her eyes and lowering her head. “I’d do anything for him. Anything at all. So if that means I have to break up with him to save him, I will. So, please. Please give him the antidote, Sam.”

That wasn’t the reaction he was expecting. Balling his hand into a fist instinctively, repulsion overwhelmed his system. “Do you really love him that much e-even after…all he’s done to you?”

“I do.” Riley murmured, almost ashamed. “Is that really such a bad thing? Everyone treats me like a whore because I let him do whatever he wants to me, but isn’t that what love is? To sacrifice and devote yourself to them? Wouldn’t you do the same?”

Sam blinked in disbelief for a moment or two before averting his gaze elsewhere. “I wouldn’t h-hit you, Rie.”

Those words sent a shock wave through her system. Even if he avoided her eyes, she stared through his soul and listened intently.

“I’d never hit you,” he continued while clenching at the ends of his sweater. “I’d never call you names, I’d n-never make you cry, I’d never abandon you, a…and I’d never let anyone hurt you! When was the last time he’s h…eld you, that he told you how p-p…pretty you are? Riley…Riley, that’s what love is!”

Tears rolled down her cheeks, although she wasn’t sure why. All she could do was laugh and wipe them away, knowing that what Sam had said was the truth. It hurt. But in the same breath, she was in pure bliss knowing that someone cared enough to answer her.

Wiping away her tears with the sleeve of his sweater, Sam leaned in close to her figure. “I want to show you th…that, Riley. Please let me treat you h-how he should’ve been treating you this entire t…ime.”

Riley couldn’t help but blush whenever he progressed toward her. If he kept it up, they’d be in kissing range sooner than later. She wasn’t opposed to the idea. Although, she was a bit nervous to be jumping from one man to the next.

Sparing a glance or two at his lips, she found her self control and took a step back. When seeing his stunned expression, he avoided his acid eyes at all costs. “Sam…”

Respecting her boundaries and laying off the pressure, he rewarded her with personal space and tried his hardest to keep the disappointment off his face. After all, he understood it wasn’t her fault. Jordan was the one to blame for her hesitance.

“Sorry. Sh-Sh…ouldn’t rush things.” Sam murmured, although his face told another story.

While she knew she wasn’t in danger, Riley couldn’t help but feel the heat against the back of her neck growing in size. Wanting to clarify her reasoning behind not indulging in his affection, she found herself stammering just as he does. “If Jordan ever found out…”

Jordan. Jordan, Jordan, Jordan. That’s all she ever wanted to talk about. Had he really captivated her heart that much? There weren't any redeeming qualities Sam could pick out for a reason as to why Riley would care for him so dearly; He had an average face, a horrible attitude, and no sense of loyalty whatsoever. So, why? Why did Riley love him so much?

Lost in thought, Riley remained quiet. It wasn’t until Sam grasped her face and caressed the wound underneath her eye that she snapped out of the delusion.

“You deserve so much more than that, Riley. Don’t you get it?” His voice was gentle and reassuring. Despite knowing that he wasn’t going to hurt her, she still couldn’t help but flinch from his words. “I’m sure you don’t. That’s why I’ll…I’ll…I’ll teach you.”

“T-Teach me?”

“It’s not as scary as it sounds.” Sam chuckled, releasing her from his grasp and gazing at his shaky hands. “As long as you trust me.”

[livingmybestfakelife]

Your Wedding Gifts

A total of ten thousand pounds was what Michael counted out, many of the gifts were cash stuffed into envelopes, one half in bills and the other in cheques, you told him to make sure it was put into the account for the orphanage you run.

A trousseau, ones with perfect quality fit for the daughter nobleman…a shady one but one nonetheless. You were given the finest silk and cotton embroidered handkerchiefs to have in your purse.

His and her satin and silk pillow cases with the initials of the bride and groom, along with bath and lounging robes, slippers, and from your closet friends, negligees, the prettiest and naughtiest ones they could find.

Sixteen bottles of vintage wines and champagnes from all over the world, one of your favorites you recognized being from Switzerland.

A new fur winter coat from your great grandmother she ordered from France

An heirloom that was now to be passed down to you given to the eldest daughter (you being the only daughter) after she is to be wed, a tiara that once belonged to your great great great grandmother, the first Duchess of your family on your father’s side, you would wear this on many special formal occasions, one that you knew for sure you’d wear it is during your fathers upcoming celebration for being inducted into the House of Lords.

A ruby necklace and earring set gifted by your godparents

Though it would be spring soon, it was still very much freezing outside, so a new pair of cashmere gloves and sweater would do you some good

It wasn’t just your family, friends and associates that gifted you something

Tommy’s side of the family were most generous in giving you a new horse, she was an adorable brown filly from Charlie, you ended up naming her Pride

Polly given you her mother’s ring, she didn’t have a daughter if her own to pass it down to anymore , and Ada had already been given a necklace a long time ago, you being the next best thing she thought you were deserving of having such a sentimental heirloom, one you’d always cherish

And most importantly, Tommy had given you something that he couldn’t wait for you to see, and that was Arrow House, he given you a tour of the grand house before you both left for your two week honeymoon to Paris

You had a large comfortable home waiting for you once you returned, you were too young for a ladies maid before you left home for university, but now you had one, a widow named Mrs. Rakes, she drew you a bath with some drops of rose water

“Madam, the chef has informed me that dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes, I have your pajamas laid on your bed, I’ll be ready for you when you get out”

“Yes, thank you Mrs. Rakes, afterwards you may be dismissed to have your dinner and settle in for the night, I’ll be fine”

“Yes madam”

She curtsies to you before leaving the bathroom, leaving you to a warm, steam filled room, you reached for your bar of goats milk soap to finish scrubbing your body with, soon enough Tommy came in to check on you.

“You comfortable in there love?”

“I am my darling”

“And….the baby?”

“Hasn’t been giving me any troubles, no headaches or nausea”

“Good boy, no more worrying your mummy”

He reaches into the water to rub your belly, then grabs the sponge to help you wash your back

“I have a lot planned for our future love, all that I do I do for you, and our soon to be family, you know that right?”

“Of course I do baby”

“Good”

He gives you deep kiss, he plays with your hair while you finish up with your bath, he looked forward with spending the rest of his life proving to you and your family how much he was worth being the man to make you happy.

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Chapter 22 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Emily Fox is a talented 17-year-old with a passion for all things music. Her dream is to become a successful singer-songwriter one day. But to achieve that dream, she needs to get into one of the most prestigious music schools in her district – it’s all been part of her plan since she was six. Sadly enough, those schools cost a ton of money that her parents don’t want to invest. They don’t even want her to pursue her dream. So, now Emily’s hustling, working at the music store to save up to get into college. That’s until she meets Charlie, an annoying seventeen-year-old boy with the same dream as her. The only difference is, he’s just doing it. He doesn’t need a fancy college to pursue his dream to become famous with his band. He just writes his songs and books small gigs here, there and everywhere. Will meeting Charlie defer her from her dream college, or will he actually help her achieve the dream?

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox)

Warnings: mentions of death, sexual assault

Important note: the characters of Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Madison are based on the characters they play on the show and i do not own their names, only OC are mine. The songs aren’t mine either, they’re all from the show except for one.

~|Emily Fox|~

I think I might have hit rock bottom again. It’s been a year since I’ve found myself falling and falling deeper down this dark and empty hole of sadness and remorse. It’s been a pity party of one up in this house since Saturday and it’s now Thursday. Madison came around almost every day. She brought lasagna on Saturday, spent the night and then watched movies with Mitch and me on Sunday. On Monday, she came back after school to give me my homework, but knowing I probably wouldn’t do it, and the same happened on Tuesday and Wednesday. Today, the bell rings at 9 am while I’m still in bed, wrapped up in a blanket burrito. I can hear Madi’s voice, however, and all it does is make me wonder why she’s not in school. “I’m just worried about her, you know?” I hear Madi’s voice as her and Mitch make their way upstairs. “I don’t want her to fall further down to rock bottom the same way she was last year.” My uncle simply hums. “Yeah, I think it’s time for an intervention,” he says seconds before he knocks on my door and enters without my response. “Morning, Muffin.” I glare at him for his chirpiness. “It’s time, honey,” Madison tells me, her nose in my wardrobe. “Time for what? To cry? I think I’m behind schedule today,” I mean it as a joke, but neither of them takes it as one. “I don’t feel like doing anything, guys.” “You’ll feel so much better after a shower and putting on pretty clothes,” Madi replies, throwing me a couple of clothes. “Now, chop, chop! Into the shower!” I stay put, glaring at my best friend. Even though I know she’s trying to help me, it’s not really working. Getting up and being productive isn’t going to get me my audition back. “Come on, Muffin! We’re going to the mall for like an hour. Please, can you do that for me? Just an hour?” Mitch’s begging somehow makes me rise up from my bed and head into the shower. The hot water doesn’t help with the empty space in my heart, but it does help with the stank of four days lying in bed. With still wet hair, I get into the outfit Madison has given me and walk back out into my bedroom. Mitch and Madi both smile at me proudly like I’m a child walking for the first time. “I don’t feel like doing my hair or makeup,” I tell them, putting on some shoes. “You want us to do it for you?” Mitch asks carefully, but I shake my head. “It’s fine. I’ll probably cry and ruin it anyway.” Both of them pout before grabbing my hand and leading me downstairs and into the car. Uncle Mitch drives us to the nearest mall where we get to shopping straight away. Nothing seems to please me though. No item of clothing or accessory brings me any joy. My bank account is happy. At least that’s one of us. “What do you think of this?” Madi asks, showing off some really rad trousers. Black cargo trousers with white blocks running through it. “Those look cool. You should get them!” I encourage her, managing a tiny smile. “They’re for you,” she tells me, but I shake my head, looking through the rail of clothing. “I’m going to buy them for you anyway. I’m sure you’ll thank me later,” she says and walks off towards the register to pay for them. I watch Madi and Mitch interact for a moment. Their voices are hushed, and they’re too far away to eavesdrop. But the wide eyes and open mouths don’t predict anything good. “Everything okay?” I ask them once Madi has paid for the trousers and joined me again. Both of them push me out of the shop and into the next one, pulling and pushing me all around the place. “We’re fine!” Mitch replies, but I can tell he’s lying. “Just really excited to look here!” “Oh, look, Ems! These look cool! You always wanted those!” She pushes a jumpsuit into my hands and pushes me towards the changing rooms. Careful as she is, she pushes me into one and yanks the red curtain shut. What the hell is going on? “Madi, I really don’t feel like trying things on,” I say, reopening the curtains. “Just do it, babes,” she says, forcing me back inside. “Mads, this is a small. I can’t get my fat ass in there!” I tell her and shove the curtain open again. Madison looks behind her swiftly before exhaling and taking the jumpsuit away from me. “What’s going on, Mads?” “Nothing, babe! Just really excited about shopping!” I raise an eyebrow at her. I’m certain she’s lying to me, but I don’t know about what. Suddenly, Uncle Mitch joins us again. I hadn’t even noticed him gone. “Right, Mitch? Aren’t you excited about shopping?” “Yes! Very!” He claps his hands. “I hear there’s a sale in that shoe shop you love so much, Muffin. You want to go?” At least Uncle Mitch somewhat acts normal. Besides the vanishing. The two lead me to the shoe shop at the other side of the mall, which is busier than the side we were on previously. Must be the crazy sales.

Though every now and again, Madi and Mitch push me into dressing rooms quickly or change directions suddenly, the day actually feels decent. For the first time since Saturday, I actually feel as though my life has gone back to normal. Until I start thinking about my life and then it’s all over. I even started crying in the middle of a Claire’s, which wasn’t the prettiest sight. Madi and Mitch do spring into action immediately and bring me towards the ice cream parlor where we have several scoops of ice cream. “Thanks, guys,” I sniffle, “I know I haven’t been the easiest, but thank you for not giving up on me.” They both offer me a proud smile, and Madi even grabs my hand in hers. “We’re just glad you’re out of the house, Emsie,” she says. “Yeah, and we’re really proud of what you’ve accomplished today!” Mitch chimes in. “Aren’t you really happy with your new shoes?” I nod my head at Madi’s question. My new sneakers really are the coolest and most rad shoes I ever did see. “They’ll look great on your new pants!” Her smile widens when my lips curl up slightly. “I really like those new earrings you bought, Muffin! They’re very chic!” Mitch chimes in. “You know I’m all about the butterflies lately,” I tell him, already thinking about the cool outfit I’ll be able to put together with the shoes, the pants and the earrings. “Don’t forget that cool new jacket you found in that thrift store!” “I really wish they made those things in my size,” Mitch pouts, causing Madi and me to laugh. “There she is again!” She says excitedly. Her wide smile suddenly falters as she looks somewhere behind me. Before I can turn around to see what she’s seen, she grabs me by the hand and pulls me up. “I think we’ve done enough shopping for the day,” Mitch says, and grabs all of our bags before the three of us leave the mall. Once at home, Madi and Mitch seem to get back to their usual self; calmer and less anxious. “Show me your new outfit!” Madi shouts excitedly as we go upstairs to try everything we bought on again for a little fashion show. When we were younger, we always used to put up fashion shows with her or my mom’s heels. It was the funniest thing. “That looks so bomb!” She claps her hands excitedly, scanning up and down my body. I turn to look into the full-length mirror, and suddenly I’m taken back to our fashion shows back in the day. “Thanks for today, Mads,” I say instead of getting nostalgic about our past. “Anything for you, Emily.”

Taglist: 

@parkeret​​ @lukeys-giggle​ @gingerxarmy​ @lovesanimals​ @hannahhistorian92​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @thequirkybookaholic​ @ashleyleblancx​ @calamitykaty​ @lolychu​ @bookdealer5​ @tenaciousperfectionunknown​ @hemmingsness​ @siennanoelle01​ @iainttakingshitfromnobody​ @ifilwtmfc​ @luckylouiebug​ @kiss-themoongoodbye​ @camiladelrio98​ @myfriendscallmebeans​

Lemme know if you wanna be on my taglist! :)

[calpalirwin]

Artsy Folk

Summary: Funny how working at a high school makes you feel seventeen again.

A/N: Teacher!Ash!

Content: Fluff. Almost cuss word free.

Word Count: 2.8k

And away, and away we go!

~~~

You frowned as you looked at your box of decorations and around your bare classroom walls. Just how the hell you were going to decorate in time for the first day was beyond you. What you needed was help, preferably from someone who was tall. But, that wasn’t in the cards for you. You were on your own.

You cracked your knuckles and set out to work. In two hours, your fingers were sore. In four, your back ached.

You wiped the sweat from your forehead as you caught your breath, looking around the room. It was certainly better than it had been, but still not exactly how you wanted it. You thought the heavy pounding was coming from your chest, but as you rested your hand on your chest, you realized the noise wasn’t coming from you.

You got up and walked over to your opened classroom door, peeking out across the quad. Another classroom door was swung open and the pounding had gotten louder. Curiosity took control and you found yourself strolling towards the music pouring out of the other classroom.

Your knuckles rapped politely on the door as you poked your head in. “Hello?” you announced.

The man at the drumkit didn’t hear you as he drummed with his whole body, lost in the music. The midnight hair covered his face as the drumsticks twirled effortlessly in his large fingers. You could see the swell of his arm muscles and the thickness of his thighs as he beat mercilessly on the kit- a fast-paced, steady rhythm.

“Hello?” you said a bit louder, moving deeper into the room.

There was a thunderous finish, before his fingers gripped the cymbals to silence them, the notes still reverberating around in your ears. Those same fingers pushed his hair out of his face and then a startled pair of the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen were taking you in. “Oh, hello,” his voice called out and you detected the trace of an accent.

You blinked and he was in front of you, taller than you by a foot, and reaching out a hand. “I’m Ashton.”

“Y/N,” you breathed back, wondering when you had blacked out as you shook his hand.

“I wasn’t bothering you, was I? I keep asking admin to soundproof this room, but they never get around to it. I swear one of these days, I’m just gonna do it myself.”

You shook your head to clear it, his words filtering foggily into your head. “What? No, you weren’t bothering me. I… uh… it was good! I thought I was alone.”

He giggled and you saw stars. “Nah, I’m always here.”

“Hard time separating work and home?”

He giggled again as he shrugged. “Not much to go home to. Plus, I spend so much time teaching music, I don’t get around to playing it a whole lot. So, I try to fit it in when I can.”

You nodded, “I get what you mean. Too busy teaching our passion to partake in it ourselves.”

“Exactly,” he smiled and you melted at that dimple in his cheek. You, you decided, were in big fucking trouble. “So, what do you teach?”

“Oh, I’m the new drama teacher.”

“Oh, sweet! We’ll have a lot of the same students then.”

“Probably work together a lot too, huh?”

He nodded, smiling wider. “Oh, for sure. What kind of productions do you have planned? Or have you got that far yet?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Today is just a decorating day. Hunting down age-appropriate productions is tomorrow’s job.”

“Did you need any help decorating?” the words rushed from his mouth. “I mean, I…” he started to falter, his cheeks flushing as he passed a hand through his raven locks. “I’m tall so I can… I mean… if you don’t wanna stand on a desk.”

“That would be great actually! If you don’t mind?”

“Nah, not at all. Us artsy folk gotta stick together.”

~~~

You felt a flutter in your stomach every time he flashed you a smile across the quad as you both held the door to your respective classrooms open for your students.. You couldn’t stop your own smile how you heard his voice boom out after every bell with a welcoming, “Alright class!” Was working on a high school campus destined to make you feel like a lovestruck teenager yourself?

The flutter in your stomach got more pronounced on your lunch breaks when he’d spin a chair around to lean his chest against the back, his dimple indenting his cheek as he popped an orange slice in his mouth.

“How was your break?” he asked after the holidays had finished.

“It was good,” you smiled at him, wishing for the millionth time to be that orange slice that brushed up against his perfect lips. “How was yours? Get to put your passion to good use?”

“Did you?” he challenged, tapping the screenplay you had next to your own lunch. “Seriously, how many of these do you read?”

“A lot,” you laughed. “Mostly to get scene ideas for the kids to practice. But this is for the spring musical.”

“Sound of Music, huh?” he asked, glancing at the title. “I always loved that one.”

“Me too. I’ve always wanted to do it.”

“Have you talked with Luke and Mike?” he asked, referencing the tall choir teacher and the wild art teacher.

“No, I need to,” you said, pulling out a pen and scratching the note down on the back of the script. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“No problem,” he grinned, swallowing another orange slice. “Lemme know if I can help with any musical arrangements.”

“Would you?” you asked, eyes hopeful and wide. His name had been first on your list of people to ask for help when you got the rights to put on the production.

“Us artsy folk gotta stick together.”

~~~

You sighed, rubbing your eyes as the teenagers on the stage looked at you with sheepish smiles on their faces. You glanced down at your phone to note the time. You had an hour left of rehearsal time. Sixty minutes to nail your favorite scene. The students were hard-working, there was no denying that. But nothing about this scene felt right to you. It felt forced. And you hated that. Maybe it was the long hours getting to you. Maybe there was a pressure you were putting on yourself to put on the perfect production of your favorite musical. Either way, something wasn’t clicking today and it was driving you up a wall. “What’s going on, guys? Is it the lyrics? Do we need another day with Mr. Hemmings? Is it the blocking? Do I need to break it down again? Help me, help you, guys. C’mon.”

“It’s just not clicking, Miss,” Charlie, a lanky sophomore, said, rubbing at his neck.

“He keeps throwing me around like a ragdoll!” McKenzie, a petite junior, turned on her partner, hands on her hips.

“I’m supposed to spin you! That’s the scene!” he fought back, towering over her.

“Not so fast! And do you have to grab me so hard?! Miss, he’s bruising my hips!”

“I’m not doing it on purpose!”

“Alright!” you shouted above their bickering, waving your hands. “Fighting’s not gonna get this done. Kenz, Charlie’s right. Spinning you is the scene. But Charlie, slow it down like half a step. Go with the beat of the music.”

“Miss, it’s a little much. The music, the lyrics, the blocking,” Charlie admitted with another sheepish look.

You sighed again, glancing at your phone again. It was Charlie’s first production and he had landed himself quite the role. You had specifically cast him alongside McKenzie so the older girl could lend her experience on the stage to the boy. It had been working, or so you thought. “Why don’t we take it one piece at a time? Just do the blocking. Then add the lyrics. Then the music. 3 more takes.”

Charlie and McKenzie nodded in agreement.

“Alright, Mr. Irwin, keep off the music cue, please,” you said, turning to where Ashton was a little ways off with the band.

Ashton nodded with a small smile that had your insides doing somersaults.

“Alright, take it away.”

The action on stage was gawky as the two students moved in silence, the only sound being the scuffling of their shoes. All three of you shared a collective frown as they moved back to run it again. The second take flowed better as the lyrics they sang provided structure to their movements. “Alright, better,” you approved, smiling as they moved back for the last take. “Now, let’s add the music. Mr. Irwin?”

Ashton led his students through the music as you trained your eyes on Charlie and McKenzie’s movements. Charlie’s foot stumbled as he picked up McKenzie, falling into his usual half-step behind the music. He spun fast and hard to catch back up to pace, but forgot to spot his turn, so the toes of his sneakers lost their grip and with McKenzie in his arms, he couldn’t regain his balance. Both teenagers tumbled to the stage floor, Charlie graciously taking the brunt of it, “oof,”s falling from everyone’s lips as you winced.

“We good?” you checked, your face a mask of worry.

Charlie stood up, dusting off his jeans, before reaching a hand to help McKenzie to her feet, both breathless with laughter. “Yeah, we’re good, Miss. Sorry, Kenz.”

“You forgot to spot,” McKenzie scolded, patting the boy’s chest. “Miss, he always forgets to spot his turns.”

“She’s right, Charlie,” you told them, with a soft chuckle.

“Miss, it’s too much. Every time I think I got it, my brain messes it up.”

“You’re doing fine, Charlie. This is a process. That’s why we have rehearsals. Do we need to take a small break?”

Charlie and McKenzie shared a look that bordered on dangerous before Charlie spoke up. “You know, Miss… I’m a visual learner… maybe if you showed me how this scene goes…?” his eyes fluttered over to Ashton suggestively as you felt heat rise to your cheeks.

You narrowed your eyes at McKenzie in particular. You had gotten to know the girl pretty well over your stint as her teacher, and she gave you relentless teasing when she had caught you subconsciously biting your lip when you and Ashton shared your smile and wave between classes. You also knew that a lot of the students thought you and Ashton shared something that went beyond those small smiles, a rumor that was growing with how close you were becoming to the music teacher now that you were working on the musical together. Teenagers, you had come to realize, were incredibly observant when it came to matters of the heart.

You pulled yourself onto the stage and moved to stand between the teenagers, ignoring the eyes on you, Ashton’s in particular. “It’s like this,” you explained. “Pick, twirl, land,” you demonstrated, going through the motions. “It’s not even a full spin, Charlie. It’s a 180 degree turn, not a full 360.”

Charlie shared another look with McKenzie before he flashed you a grin. “Yeah, Miss, I still don’t fully get it. Can… hey, Mr. Irwin! Can you come help?”

A smirk threatened to overtake Ashton’s face, his hazel eyes wide as they looked at you. “Uh…” he faltered, a hand running through his ink-like hair.

“Clearly there’s only so much teaching I can do before I require reinforcements,” you told him with a shy smile and small giggle, sweeping your arm before you in silent question.

A matching giggle came out of Ashton’s own lips as he effortlessly swung himself up on stage with you. “You know the scene?” you checked.

“Course I do,” he confirmed.

“Alright, from the top then,” you said, directing your attention away from his close proximity to look at your students. “Charlie, watch Mr. Irwin’s movements. McKenzie, watch mine. As much as the pressure is on Charlie in this scene, you’re playing an important role, too. Keep him grounded,” you explained as you and Ashton took your marks.

Ashton gestured for his students to start playing the music and your eyes went wide for a moment as he started singing. You were surprised you were so surprised by his singing voice. His regular talking voice was as smooth as honey, of course his singing voice would be even more magnificent.

Your bodies moved in sync through the scene, his hand there to guide you up to step onto the bench, before his strong hands were on your waist and you were lifted into the air. You bit on your lip to keep in the schoolgirl like giggle bubbling up inside as he pivoted in a graceful half spin and placed you gently on your feet, the music and your voices fading out across the theater.

Your heart was racing and your ears were ringing as his hands stayed glued to your hips, eyes locked on each other.

“Oh!” Charlie’s voice sounded, and you and Ashton jumped apart, his fingertips lighting you up as they slid across skin, keeping contact until the last possible second. “I think I get it now!”

“Yeah?” you asked, a smile on your lips and your eyes shining as you kept your gaze on Ashton.

“Yeah!” Charlie said, excitedly.

“Alright, take your marks. Run it from the top,” you said, biting your lip as Ashton’s tongue poked out to wet his own.

When Charlie and McKenzie ran through the scene, they didn’t mess up once. You raised your eyebrows in suspicion at them and they just grinned at you. You shook your head, your shoulders shaking in a silent chuckle before your eyes darted over to see if Ashton was looking. When he wasn’t, you mouthed a thank you to the conspirators. “Alright, great work, guys. Let’s call it early,” you said loudly, gathering everyone’s attention. “Back here at 3:30 sharp tomorrow.”

~~~

You stood in front of the auditorium, watching the last of the students get picked up by parents or jet off into the evening with their friends. You crossed your arms over the chest to ward of the chill, desperately wishing for the parking lot to empty so you could seek the warm shelter of your own car.

“Hey,” a voice piped up and you jumped. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya,” Ashton chuckled.

Your hand fluttered to your racing heart. “I figured you would have left already.”

“Nah,” he said, leaning up against the wall of the building, a leg kicked up so his foot rested against the wall along with his shoulders. “Just got finished locking up the band room.”

“Mmm,” you nodded, looking out across the parking lot, not wanting to look at the man who had set a fire in your soul not even twenty minutes ago. How someone could ooze sexiness without even trying made you shiver at what he was capable of when he used his charm full force.

“I didn’t make you uncomfortable in there, did I?” he questioned, his eyebrows furrowing together.

“What? No! No,” you laughed, “not at all.”

He let out a small chuckle of relief, “Good. Cuz I was gonna say, I think they’ve been plotting that one for a while.”

“Me too. Wonder where they got such a crazy idea from,” you wondered out loud.

He pushed off the wall and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Dunno. Kids get these crazy notions sometimes.”

“Crazy,” you said, biting into your lip as you turned to look at him.

“Totally,” he agreed, swallowing thickly. “It’s like I can’t smile at a pretty girl without the whole school thinking I got a crush.”

“And do you?” you asked, your cheeks warming at his dropped compliment.

“Do I what?”

“Have a crush on the pretty girl?”

His shoulders shrugged and his eyes danced away. “Maybe…” his voice murmured the answer.

“Maybe the pretty girl has a crush on you too,” you admitted shyly.

“Yeah?” You noticed the hopeful lilt in his voice and the heat in your cheeks grew in intensity.

“Night, Ashton,” you smiled, walking off slowly in the direction of your car.

He didn’t answer as you continued to walk away and you let out a small sigh of discontent. Maybe it was best to have kept your attraction a secret from the music teacher across the hall. Better to have the small moments of affection and tenderness rather than lose it if things went by the wayside. So when his fingers danced onto your waist, you nearly jumped out of your skin before instinctively relaxing into his touch, wondering how someone so big could move so silently. Those same fingers you had spent many a sleepless night imagining exploring the expanse of your body tugged at your flesh, spinning you around to face him. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this,” he breathed down at you before his perfect lips were on yours.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting you to do that,” you replied, melting into him, his kiss, his touch, craving more and more.

“Us artsy folk gotta stick together.” His eyes were shining and his voice was breathless and you were thinking things that left you wet between your legs.

“That we do,” you said before reaching up on your tiptoes to kiss him again.

~~~

Tag List

@goeatsomelife​ @flameraine​ @cashtonasff5sos​ @here-for-the-uproars​ @cxddlyash​ @1-irwin-94​ @baldcalum​ @sparkling-chaos​ @tea4sykes​ @youngblood199456​ @5-seconds-of-obsession​

[antonfm]

can     u     believe     that     a     whole     entire     day          after     the     rp     opens          ,          i     finally     have     my     shit     together     enough     to     post     an     intro          !          can     u     fuckin     believe     it          !          anyways          ,          i’m     elliot          (          she/they          )          ,          i’m     20     n     i’m     a     supreme     dumbass     who     needs     2     get     their     life     together     on     so     many     levels          .  .  .          it’s     fine     though          !          completely     fine          !          totally     n     utterly     fine          !!!

(          timothee     chalamet          &          cis     male          )          who          ??          these     days          ,          it’s     all     about     anton     olivier          ,          who     comes     from     manhattan          ,          ny          ,          and     is     making     headlines     as     an     actor          .          he     currently     has     a     fan     count     of     45.9k          ,          no     thanks     to     the     rumours     of     them     being     vainglorious          !          but          ,          on     the     other     hand          ,          his     most     devout     fans     say     he’s     actually     retiary          .          last     i     heard          ,          he     caused     quite     a     buzz     when     he     was     caught     leaving     multiple     lovers’     houses     despite     being     in     an     allegedly     ‘     committed     ’     relationship          !          it’s     no     wonder     they     remind     me     of     inky     black     as     a     beautiful     contrast     to     stark     white          ,          tastes     of     fake     blood          &          bourbon     dancing     a     mistimed     tango     on     your     tongue          ,          stacks     of     literary     classics     like     small     mountains     on     your     living     room     floor          ,          abandoned     chastity     ring          (          ruby     red     gemstone          ,          isn’t     it     ironic          ?          )          ,          heat     -     slick     kisses     smeared     to     the     corner     of     your     mouth          ;          dark     academia          /          technicolour     ghost     disappearing     in     the     middle     of     a     crowd          ,          slipping     into     the     back     of     a     lecture     theatre     abound     with     rapt     attention          ,          pressing     bruises     into     not     -     yet     -     ripe     fruit     for     the     thrill     of     watching     it     wilt     beneath     satin     touch          .

𝔩𝔞𝔶𝔢𝔯     𝔬𝔫𝔢     .          rudimentals          .

full     name:     anton     françois     olivier     . nicknames,     aliases:

ant     .

mon     cher     .          (          by     his     mother     .          )

age:     twenty     -     three     . date     of     birth:     october     fifteenth     . place     of     birth:     manhattan         ,         new     york     city     . nationality:     american     . ethnicity:     caucasian     (     french     )     . spoken     languages:     english          ,          fluent     french          (          spoken     in     household     more     commonly     than     english          )          .

zodiac     sign:     scorpio     . hogwarts     house:     slytherin     . myers     -     briggs:     infp     -     t     .

career     claims:     charlie     heaton     ,     some     of     bill     skargsard’s     stuff     .          (          i’ll     write     his     imdb     page     later     .          )

𝔩𝔞𝔶𝔢𝔯     𝔱𝔴𝔬     .          physicals          .

height:     six     foot     three     . weight:     157     lbs     .

complexion:     pale     ,     scarily     so     .     nothing     medical     about     it     ,     just     a     natural     pallid     sheen     to     sharp     features     .     a     small     ,     light     dusting     of     freckles     over     the     nose     and     cheeks     and     forehead     .      face     shape:     heart     -     shaped     ,     incredibly     angular     .     sharp     cheekbones     and     jawline     ,     square     and     dashing     in     a     sinister     kind     of     way     .     very     thin     ,     very     gaunt     .      facial     quirks:     in     some     lights     his     left     eye     is     ever     so     slightly     lighter     than     the     other     ,     but     it’s     a     trick     of     the     light     .

hair:     black     ,     naturally     so     (     your     mother’s     hair     )     .     has     a     slight     natural     wave     that     sometimes     springs     to     a     loose     curl     .     recently     ,     you’ve     grown     it     out     so     that     it     curls     around     the     nape     of     your     neck     and     falls     into     your     eyes     .     typically     ,     strands     are     tucked     behind     your     ears     unless     they     fall     out     of     place     .     soft     ,     incredibly     so     --- -     cherry     blossom     shampoo     and     conditioner     ensures     that     . eyes:     bright     blue     ,     cobalt     .     golden     rings     around     the     pupils     ,     with     green     and     hazel     flecks     throughout     .     lashes     are     unfairly     long     and     dark     ,     a     prettily     sooty     smudge     against     the     high     ridge     of     your     cheekbones     .     brows     are     dark     and     expressive     ,     unruly     ,     arched     ever     so     slightly     .     dark     indigo     bags     underneath     your     eyes     aren’t     an     unusual     sight     ,     results     of     too     -     long     nights     and     a     strange     work     schedule     . nose:     your     mother’s     button     nose     ,     small     and     straight     and     ‘     lovely     ’     according     to     your     rabid     fan     base     .     nothing     much     to     say     about     it     otherwise     .     you     considered     piercing     it     when     you     were     fifteen     and     going     through     it     for     unknown     reasons     .      mouth:     relatively     normal     lips     ,     slightly     plusher     lower     lip     but     that’s     not     saying     much     .     chewed     ,     bitten     ,     chapped     like     nothing     else     /     favourite     flavour     of     burt’s     bees     is     pomegranate     .     teeth     are     white     ,     straight     ,     pretty     good     teeth          ;          indents     of     which     often     find     themselves     deep     in     that     lower     lip     .

scars:     none     of     note     .     the     typical     petite     white     scars     of     childhood     across     knees     and     elbows     ,     but     nothing     too     serious     . tattoos,     piercings:     none     .     there     are     plans     in     the     works     ,     but     currently          ?          nothing     . more     body     modifications:     again     ,     nothing     .     bitch     is     boring     .

𝔩𝔞𝔶𝔢𝔯     𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢     .          biographicals          .

not     quite     your     typical     tale     of     boy     -     meets     girl          ;          art     gallery     curator     curator     watches     broadway     ‘     ingénue     ’          &          falls     head     over     heels     in     an     infatuation     that     borders     on     obsession     but     is     returned     tenfold     .     adele     st     .     croix     can’t     believe     her     luck          (          moved     to     manhattan     just     two     years     previously          ,          resumé     builds     beyond     belief          ,          engagement     to     a     big     name     is     imminent          !          )          and     pierre     -     louis     olivier     has     never     been     so     deeply     in     love     before          .          the     courtship     is     wonderful          ,          twilight     walks     in     the     park          ,          regular     dates     at     terribly     romantic     restaurants          ,          soft     kisses     on     random     stoops     and     rough          ,          impassioned     kisses     on     your     own          .          the     engagement     comes     in     1995          ,          &          a     year     later          ,          marriage     is     a     cover     story     and     a     four     -     page     spread     in     all     the     glossy     tabloids     your     mother     loves     to     collect          .          

your     conception     comes     as     a     shock          ,          of     course          .          neither     wanted     children     so     early          ,          just     a     year     into     their     marriage     but     the     very     first     time     that     your     mother’s     silky     -     smooth     hands     rest     on     the     then     -     flat     expanse     of     her     belly     it’s     over          .          unspoken     talks     of     termination     that     weighed     uncomfortably     heavily     on     unmoving     tongues     are     quashed          ,          replaced     by     fluttering     anticipation     of     a     child          .          your     impending     birth     is     announced     three     months     after     your     parents     find     out     they’re     expecting     you          ,          &          soon     enough     your     own     infantile     chunk     of     their     upper     east     side     penthouse          (          a     grandiose     wedding     present          )          is     carved     out          ;          decked     in     earthy     tones     and     warm     creams          ,          pastels     of     all     shades     and     joy     woven     into     each     choice          ,          you     are     a     source     of     joy     to     rival     the     sun          .

birth     is     almost     perfect          ,          only     one     day     past     your     due     date          .          naturally     your     first     breath     is     a     noisy     one          ,          wailing     and     crying     and     oh          ,          how     they     adore     you     already          !          adoration     seeps     into     your     bones     from     the     first     time     mother     holds     you          ,          presses     a     kiss     to     your     head     and     breathes     in     that     lavender         ,         fresh     -     linen     new     baby     smell          .          from     that     very     first     moment     love     is     ingrained     into     every     single     pore          ;          love     is     what     you     breathe          ,          what     you     feed     on          ,          what     you     see     the     world     through          .          your     mother     and     father     are     almost     sickeningly     in     love          ,          true     dotage     in     its     finest     form     and     later     in     life     you     suppose     you’re     lucky     to     have     grown     up     with     such     a     wonderful     idea     of     what     true     romance     is     meant     to     look     like          .          they     love     each     other          ,          and     they     love     you          .

childhood     is     wonderful          ,          if     you’re     perfectly     honest          .          it’s     a     blur     of     ice     cream     at     fancy     parlours     after     your     mother     picks     you     up     from     school          ,          renting     movies     and     getting     wonderful     takeaway     and     laughing     until     your     sides     ache          .          it’s     freshly     -     laundered     uniforms     that     just     look     so     damn     precious          ,          school     ties     in     immaculate     windsor     knots          .          (          schools     are     all     catholic          ,          of     course          ;          some     things     die     hard          ,          but     your     mother     and     father’s     commitment     to     their     faith     dies     harder          .          )          church     on     sunday     mornings          ,          followed     by     brunch     and     a     movie          /          picturesque          ,          absolutely     perfect          .          ignore     the     paparazzi     trailing     behind     you          ,          though          .          ignore     the     fact     that     despite     everything          ,          a     childhood     dripping     with     luxury     and     privilege     is     not     really     a     normal     childhood          .          normal     children     don’t     dress     in     such     expensive     clothes     in     their     free     time          ,          normal     children     don’t     understand     the     complete     and     utter         hedonism     that     you’re     enabled          .          

it’s     only     a     matter     of     time     before     you     find     your     calling          ,          though          .          you     are     fourteen          ,          already     a     gangly     mess     of     too     -     long     limbs     and     charming     smile     and     curls     that     melt     even     the     iciest     of     glares          .          you’ve     sat     in     the     backs     of     theatres     while     your     mother     rehearses     for     your     entire     life          ,          and     stepping     into     the     harsh     spotlight     itself     feels     like     home     in     a     way     you     can’t     possibly     describe     in     either     of     the     tongues     that     crowd     your     mouth          .          your     first     performance     is     macbeth          ,          and     you     dominate     like     nothing     else          ,          tragic     figure     with     a     mouth     of     steel          .          for     the     next     few     years     of     your     high     school     education     you     always     score     the     leading     role          ,          not     through     anything     but     the     sheer     force     of     your     talent          .          acting     is     second     nature     to     you          ,          a     comfortable     set     of     skins     you     fall     into     like     it’s     nothing          ,          like     they’re     nothing          .

sixteen     when     you     get     your     first     gig     ,     a     guest     appearance     in     some     established     police     procedural     ,     but     it’s     a     rush     like     nothing     else     .     one     gig     leads     to     another     ,     and     another     ,     and     another     !     it’s     not     until     you’re     hired     by     netflix     to     do     their     biggest     hit     ,     some     then     -     untitled     sci     -     fi     horror     80s     thing     ,     that     you     take     off     like     nothing     else     and     god     ,     it’s     like     nothing     you’ve     ever     known     .     blockbusters     are     offered     to     you     after     your     second     season     airs     ,     you     find     yourself     in     cameos     in     fucking     marvel     movies     ,     &     yet     nothing’s     quite     as     thrilling     as     horror     .     something     crawls     under     your     skin     the     first     day     you     shoot     stranger     things     ,     and     it’s     stuck     ever     since          ;          you     make     a     good     archetype     ,     the     dopey     yet     helpful     boyfriend     ,     the     white     knight     .     you’re     barely     nineteen     when     you     decide     what     your     avenue     is     and     make     a     conscientious     decision     to     stick     to     it     .

and     now          ?          your     imdb     page     glitters     ,     cacophany     of     roles     quite     unlike     each     other     ,     bad     guy     and     good     guy     and     killer     and     saviour     ,     all     crammed     in     together     .     didn’t     think     you     had     time     but     somewhere     you     met     someone     ,     fell     in     love     ,     started     dating     ,     all     that          ;          but     that     bleeding     ,     genuine     heart     of     yours     can’t     be     contained     ,     falls     in     love     five     times     a     day     ,     catches     itself     upon     the     hooks     of     others     and     impulse     control     is     a     long     -     forgotten     acquaintance     .     newspapers     call     you     a     heartbreaker     ,     but     you     never     break     hearts          ;          you     simply     leave     your     scent     on     bedsheets     and     heartbeats     alike     ,     prettiest     kind     of     ghost     .     sometimes     you     play     up     the     ‘     arrogant     heartbreaking     dipshit     ’     spiel     for     interviews     but     with     you     ,     what     you     see     is     what     you     get     :     passionate     ,     driven     ,     emotional     .     a     fervour     .     a     lover     ,     a     romantic     ,     altruistic     kinds     of     chaos     .     the     prettiest     kind     of     confusion     ,     all     wrapped     up     under     that     surname     .     oh     darling     ,     you’re     the     nicest     kind     of     sweet     nightmare     and     you     don’t     even     know     it     .

𝔩𝔞𝔶𝔢𝔯     𝔣𝔬𝔲𝔯     .          wanted     connections          .

the     committed     relationship     .

the     string     of     lovers     he’s     been     seeing     .

exes     ,     on     any     kinds     of     terms     .

school     friends     from     forever     ago     .

co     -     stars     .

rivals     !!!!

literally     anything     PLEASE

[seriestrash]

Encounters [Part Two]

[Part One]

Even though I said I wasn’t going to.. You guys twisted my arm.. enjoy x

Word Count: 2542

✦  ✦  ✦  ✦

After leaving Lucas in the hallway, Riley didn't know if she should be upset and embarrassed by their latest encounter or down right outraged by it. After dwelling on it for hours Riley makes a conscious effort to push her run in with Lucas to the back of her mind.

Riley is sprawled out across her bed reading a book when there's a knock at her door.

"Riley, honey," Topanga pokes her head through the crack of the door, "There’s a boy from school here to see you."

"Charlie?" Riley's face scrunches into confusion, she literally had no friends.

"No, it's a Lucas.." Topanga eyes her daughter.

Riley let's out a quiet groan, "Tell him I died."

"Riley!" Topanga scolds her morbid daughter.

"What?" Riley asks defensively.

"I don't think he'll believe that," Topanga states.

"Why not?" Riley folds her arms.

"Because he's standing right behind me listening to you." Topanga smirks and Riley hates the pleasure her mother gets out of her emotional turmoil.

"So?" Riley challenges her mother. "Sorry Lucas I died, super tragic but the world will go on," Riley says louder.

"Go right in, sweetie," Topanga swings the door open fully and motions for Lucas to enter.

"So you died, huh?" Lucas chuckles as he strolls into her room casually.

"Just emotionally," Riley grins with a tilted head.

Lucas laughs at her dark humour and paces a little in front of her bed, "Cute pyjamas," he says with a smug grin.

"Cute face," Riley says with folded arms and then clenches her eyes tightly, “That wasn't supposed to come out like a compliment."

"No I get it," Lucas still wears a smirk, "Sarcasm was intended."

After Riley does her best to just glare at Lucas she can't help but hate herself for still feeling so nervous in his presence.

"Aren't you going to ask why I'm here?" Lucas sits himself in the bay window.

"No," Riley shakes her head. "I already know why you're here. To tell me that I was wrong at school and your intentions are genuine."

"So you believe me?" Lucas is confused by her mood.

"No," Riley scoffs, "I believe you can't handle the fact that someone turned you down and of all the people in the world it was a nobody like me."

"Stop calling yourself a nobody," Lucas sighs.

"Come on, Lucas," Riley shakes her head with an eye roll, "I've lived in the shadows my entire life. You- You're Mr. Popularity, you've dated the prettiest airheads in the school but suddenly I'm the only girl worth annoying?"

"Do you really believe I'm that superficial?" Lucas softens and speaks at almost a whisper.

Riley doesn't answer, instead she just bows her head in silence. Lucas takes the quiet as a positive thing and stands up. A small smile crosses his face, not smirky or smug but genuine and sweet. "Maybe there’s hope for you and I yet."

With that he opens her window and climbs out. Riley lays her head back on her pillows and stares at the ceiling only one thought on her mind: what the hell just happened?

The following day Riley is nervous going to school, she thinks things will be weird around Lucas and his always watching pals. Little did Riley know that the weirdness would begin before she even arrived on the school grounds. For she had sat in a vacant seat on the subway all of thirty seconds before she was spooked.

"Good morning," his warm breath tickled her neck but his sneak approach from behind made Riley jolt with fright in her seat.

"Are you stalking me now or something?" Riley asks still on edge from his approach.

"Because I'm on the subway?" Lucas sits in the seat behind her and rests his arm on the back of her chair, his chin wedged into this arms. "We always take the same route to school."

Lucas stands swiftly and walks to the support bar in front of where Riley sits and spins around once before facing Riley again, "But you've always got your nose buried in a book so I'm not surprised you haven't noticed." With that he walks over to the priority seating, where, over the years he's claimed as his usual place.

Riley remains in her seat and stares at Lucas on the other side of the cart to her. She racks her brain for the tiniest glimpse of a memory, she looks for a time she can recall him sitting there but nothing comes to mind, in fact no one comes to mind. Although it wasn't his intention Lucas had Riley questioning if she's the one who's isolated herself from her peers and not the other way around. Riley shoves the book that rests in her lap into her backpack and tries to focus on anyone or anything in the cart besides Lucas.

When the subway cart pulls into the station for school Riley looks up at Lucas again, he’s already waiting to meet her gaze and with a slight nod he exits the subway without bothering her.

Riley fiddles with the straps of her backpack as she walks alone. The rest of the day was normal, well, normal for Riley that is as she glides through the day alone. From class to class to the library for lunch and back to classes without any interruptions for Lucas. As Riley leaves school that day she wonders if Lucas got the message and would now leave her be. Oh how wrong she was.

After leaving school Riley heads straight to the bakery to help out. Upon entering she’s startled to see Lucas sitting alone at a booth with his hands folded neatly on the table. Riley shakes her head and walks right past him and behind the counter.

Once Lucas spots the brunette he springs up from his seat and approaches the counter.

“Hello, how may I help you today?” Riley greets him with a pleasant smile. After all that’s what she gets paid for.

“I’d like a mango smoothie please,” Lucas grins.

“Sorry, all out,” Riley bats her lashes.

“Okay, how about strawberry and banana?” Lucas asks.

“Out of that too,” Riley shakes her head with a smirk.

“How about just a juice?” Lucas eyes her, “Any flavour is fine.”

“You know,” Riley lets out a mock shriek.

“Let me guess you’re all out of juice too?” Lucas folds his arms, slightly amused by her games.

Riley shrugs with a little nod.

“Get the boy a mango smoothie, would you, Riley?” Topanga whom had been listening calls over to Riley.

“Would you like that to go today?” Riley asks with a forced smile.

“No, I’ll have it here, thank you,” Lucas smirks as he pays and takes a seat facing the counter.

After Lucas’ smoothie is empty Topanga continues to find enjoyment out of this predicament and forces her daughter to go over and check on him.

“Is there anything else I can get you today?” Riley asks.

“How about two more smoothies and you sit down and join me?” Lucas motions to the empty seat across from him.

“You’re really committed to this joke aren't you?” Riley raises a brow.

“It’s not a joke,” Lucas groans.

“Two smoothies coming right up,” Riley smiles and turns back to the kitchen to get them. When she returns she places one in front of Lucas and one in front of the empty space across from him and with that she turns and leaves.

“Riley?” Lucas calls after her.

“Yes?” She pauses halfway to the exit.

“You’re going?” He questions.

“Yes,” Riley nods, “My shift is over.”

“What about the smoothie?” Lucas nudges his head in the direction of it.

“I don’t want it,” Riley shrugs innocently.

“But-”

“I just wanted to waste your time too,” Riley giggles before leaving.

The following morning Lucas wastes no time on the subway and slips in the space right beside her.

“I forgive you for the whole smoothie thing,” Lucas opens with, “Actually I find it pretty funny.”

“Oh good because I lost sleep over it last night,” Riley jokes.

“Do you wanna know what I think?” Lucas grins.

“No, but I assume you’re going to tell me anyway?” Riley crinkles her nose.

“I think you like me.”

“I think you’re crazy,” Riley shoves his arm pushing him away from her. Lucas just smiles and stands to leave her alone.

Later that day in school a note slips out of Riley’s locker. She pauses to read it;

Roses are red Violets are blue It’s no secret or joke That I wanna go out with you

Riley looks up from the piece of paper and finds Lucas standing at the end of the row of lockers with a smile. Riley fails to hide her own grin but manages to roll her eyes as she throws the note in the trash. Lucas cups at his chest as if Riley has physically hurt him but she shakes her head with a giggle and walks away.

That’s how it was for a week. He’d bug her on the subway, leave notes in her locker and sit in the bakery with two smoothies each afternoon and everyday Riley would brush him off with every advance.

It comes to Friday at lunch and Riley sits with her back against the wall the the end of an aisle of books and she reads silently to herself. After knowing for years now this was Riley’s spot he makes his way over to the library and swiftly sits beside her with his legs sprawled out in front. Riley ignores him by not even bothering to lift her head.

“Hi,” He says quietly.

Riley continues to read.

“You’re really something you know that?” Lucas huffs, “I spend almost three years crushing on you and a week acting like a complete fool and you give me nothing!”

“I owe you nothing,” Riley says without breaking her gaze from the page.

“I don’t expect anything from you,” Lucas says genuinely.

“Then why won't you give up on this little charade?” Riley asks.

“If I genuinely thought you weren’t  enjoying this little game we’ve been playing the past week then I would have respected your wishes and left you alone.”

“What makes you think I am enjoying it?” Riley turns to face him with a raised brow.

“Because in all the times you’ve turned me down you’ve never once said it’s because you don't want to go out with me, it’s always because you don’t think I want to go out with you,” Lucas answers.

Riley turns her gaze back to her book and reads or at least pretends to.

“You wanna know what I find annoying?” Lucas sets out a sigh as he looks forward and speaks, “Is someone claiming to know how you feel because of course it’s not possible for a boy to spot a girl on the subway and think she may  be the prettiest girl he’s ever seen and then less than an hour later she’s sitting in his history class like it was the universes wish for them to be together. And it’s hard to believe that said boy purposely bumped into said girl in the hall while she was distracted with a book just so he’d have an excuse to talk to her.. Then before he gets the chance to ask said girl out she gets a boyfriend whom she dates forever and the boy has no choice but to give the ‘airheads’ of the school a chance because he didn’t want to interfere with said girls happiness.”

“You purposely knocked into me?” Riley gives him a quizzical look.

“That’s what you took from that?” Lucas laughs.

“You really expect me to believe you liked me all these years?” Riley tilts her head with an eye squint.

“Have I done something in the years I’ve been here that’s made you believe I’d honestly be a jerk and ask you- or anyone out as some sort of joke?” Lucas is serious.

“No,” Riley answers honestly.

“Then why do you keep treating me like I am?” Lucas asks.

“I don’t mean to,” Riley frowns, “It’s just so hard to believe-“

“Would you stop saying that?” Lucas groans, “Do you know what I find frustrating? Even more so than someone assuming they know your feelings? When someone can’t see themselves the way others do.” 

“But-” 

“No buts, Riley,” Lucas shakes his head, “Has anyone ever actually called you a loser or a nobody?” 

“Well no, not that I’m aware of but that’s the point of being invisible, no one even cares to make fun of you.” 

“I think that’s bull,” Lucas states bluntly. 

“So you think I’ve isolated myself?” Riley is timid as she speaks of her previous thought she had earlier in the week. 

Lucas softens when he realises she’s upset by this, “No, I just think that you haven’t realised there’s a life boat on the island yet.” 

“Well I’m a bit of an idiot then aren't I?” Riley jokes quietly and Lucas chuckles. 

"You know what Riley?" Lucas coaxes his head with a smile, "This is the most honest conversation we've had in three years." 

"How do I know it's honest?" Riley asks holding his gaze. 

"I'm not sure how I can convince you of my sincerity unless you give me the chance to," Lucas curls one corner of his mouth up into a grin and is also careful not to break their stare. 

The bell sounds and Riley looks at Lucas for a moment longer before standing up without a word. Lucas bangs his head gently against the wall a little frustrated as he thought they were finally connecting but before he could get past his initial frustration Riley swiftly turns on her heels to look at him still sitting on the ground. 

"Do you wanna walk to English together?" Riley asks nervously. 

Lucas fails to hide his smiles as he jokes, "Riley Matthews are you asking me out?" 

"I'm asking you to walk beside me to a class we're both in, " Riley shifts on her feet.  

"Gosh, this is coming out of nowhere," Lucas continues his bit as he gets to his feet, "I suppose you want to carry my books for me too!" 

"I regret talking," Riley giggles with the slightest eye roll. 

"Because you love listening to me go on and on about-" 

"Shut up," Riley gentle pushes his arm. 

"I'd love to walk you to English," Lucas grins. 

“Good, because you really need to work on your poetry,” Riley chuckles as they walk and Lucas gasps in mock offence. 

As they walk to class Riley spots Lucas out of the corner of her eye as he looks at her with a smile when they walk. Riley points her grin at the ground with a single realisation in mind: he is Lucas Friar and she is Riley Matthews. We are all nobodies until we allow ourselves to be somebody to someone. Platonic, romantic or otherwise. 

Riley Matthews had always been somebody. Now maybe she'd let herself be a somebody to him.

End Note: Sorry this took me so long I have had a lot on my mind lately and all your messages of support have been lovely. Thanks for always being so understanding! I may have rushed this a little and the idea might not have been as good as I originally mapped out but I hope it suffices nonetheless xxxx

[ao3feed-narlie]

the prettiest eyes he'd ever seen

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/JpLWd6D by eitmrnbiwbo nick is tired from work and thinks about how lucky he is to have charlie. kinda inspired by the song "ever seen" by beabadoobee. Words: 794, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Heartstopper (Webcomic), Heartstopper (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Nicholas "Nick" Nelson, Charles "Charlie" Spring (Heartstopper) Relationships: Nicholas "Nick" Nelson/Charles "Charlie" Spring Additional Tags: Boys In Love, Smitten Nicholas "Nick" Nelson, Supportive Nicholas "Nick" Nelson, Adult Nicholas "Nick" Nelson, Adult Charles "Charlie" Spring (Heartstopper), No Angst, that's a first, Lowercase, just because, Autistic Charles "Charlie" Spring (Heartstopper), Fluff read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/JpLWd6D