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thefilmed2008 · 10 months ago

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The Rusted Link - A Linked Universe fanfic

Chapter 1: “Citing sources not of God nor man.”

My POV:

I felt like I was wandering into the dark. I felt like I was thinking thoughts no mortal should have ever thought. It was always startling to fall through reality. It felt like I had died, but other than that it was a surprisingly smooth transition (I’m pretty sure dealing with fourth dimensional beings and being ripped out of your plane of existence would get you used to it.) After my vision returned I saw that I was in a lush green field dotted with flowers, a bit down-hill from where I was sitting was a small ranch and above me was a bright blue sky. ‘A bit weird, but at least there are living things here.’ I thought, after that I stood up and decided to walk towards the ranch (depending on how well my inevitable adventure will go, that was either a good idea or a bad idea.) An hour or two later I finally made it to the ranch. When I looked up at the sign I understood where I was, ‘yeah I can work with this. Not the weirdest thing I’ve ever dealt with.’ You want to know what ranch it was? Lon Lon Ranch. Well after that bit of relief I stepped through the threshold. After the music started I damn-near tripped over nothing but emotions, but I righted myself and I continued on. I eventually reached a window and peaked in, inside there were twelve people, eight of them were sitting at a table eating what I presumed was breakfast while two of them were standing around the room while another two were standing at what appeared to be a sink, nine of them were blonde, one of them had pink hair (Legend, the best little guy.) while only one of them was brunette, eight of the blondes, the pink haired one, and the one brunette had various armors, little trinkets and medieval clothes on, although two of them had pretty modern clothes on like sweats with a beanie and jeans with a short sleeve shirt, the twelfth person however was a tall redheaded woman with fair skin and a rather bland dress with various patterns woven into its bottom. ‘Oh Linked Universe, well let’s just hope I don’t die (again).’ I thought. Suddenly the oldest looking one of them (who just so happened to have the most armor on along with having a dead eye,) side-eyed me like he knew I was there, I could not have ducked down any faster if I tried. I knew they probably wouldn’t hurt me, but I trusted people before and I paid the price, I wouldn’t make that mistake again. Suddenly I heard heavy footsteps heading towards the door which was right next to me. I fumbled for my pistol which I had learned to always keep on my person no matter the situation. No sooner had I flipped the safety off than the door opened and I came face to face with a tall, well built, man. He was 6’0 at least. And he had an aura that screamed “No matter what’s happening I am always in control.” It was so thick that it was getting hard to breathe. I could only think one thing, ‘Who is this man?’

Time’s POV:

Me and Malon were washing our dishes and talking, the other links were eating breakfast while Texts and Worlds were standing around. When all of a sudden I heard a low noise coming from the window and when I looked over I saw a figure. And it quickly ducked down, I excused myself from the conversation I was having with Malon to go investigate. When I opened the door I was greeted with a boy who looked about fifteen years old, he had dark brown hair that looked unkempt, with white hairs that outnumbered my own, and he had eyes that seemed to be too tired and knowing to be from someone his age (Even compared to the other Links,) they also seemed to be deathly dull and faded, with the sparks of life barely recognizable along with their color. (My guess was that they were Hazel at one point in time), he was about 6’3 (though, with the number of stretch marks on his skin that was probably not his natural height), he had torn and faded jeans, smudged and cracked black and gray glasses, no shoes, and he didn’t have a shirt on, revealing unhealthily pale skin that was littered with bruises, scars, scratches, scrapes, and burns, and his feet were shot to hell. (He almost looked worse than Wild. In fact, he looked like a walking corpse.) It was apparent that something also happened to his legs due to the sound of the bones cracking every time he moved, and the number of horrendously deep scars that showed through the rips in his jeans. He was also trembling like I was a hungry wolf or something. He was pointing a metallic object at me (Texts and Worlds called them guns I believe) “Easy there, I’m not gonna hurt you.” I said “W-Who are you?” He said, I could hear the tremble in his voice. He was clearly terrified. “My name is Time, what's yours?” He hesitated before saying “A-Andrew.” “It’s nice to meet you Andrew, what are you doing here?” “I-I don't know, I j-just woke up in a field not-t too far from here.” He also had an odd way of speaking, sometimes he would hang on words or sounds for too long, like his mouth wasn’t going fast enough to keep up with his brain, and his speech was filled with stammers and stutters.

I had to help this kid.

Chapter 2: Linking up.

My POV:

“Do you want to come inside? We have a few spare rooms.” ‘What?! Why are they offering? I just showed up then I immediately pulled a gun on them, what are they planning?’ But despite all the red flags, this was the only building I could see for miles, so I decided to take him up on his offer. “F-Fine, but no funny business. Alright?” “Alright.” “Good.” I flipped the safety back on and returned the gun back to its place.

Time’s POV:

Well now that that was over with, me and the kid entered the house and it seemed like everyone heard the commotion because as soon as we entered the house they were all swarming us. Goddess this was gonna be long. After I got everyone settled down they started introducing themselves. “Hi. I’m Hyrule.” “Hello.” The boy said sheepishly, though the look in his eyes said that he was excited. “Hey. I’m Legend.” The kid looked even more excited. “I’m Wind.” “Hello. I’m Sky.” “Howdy! I’m Twilight.” “Nice to meet you! I’m Four.” “…” To be expected, Wild didn’t even know how to read or write true Hylian anymore. “Another one? Good goddess.” When Warriors was grumpy he made sure everyone knew. I’d have to talk to him about that later. “Who are you?” Worlds moved from his spot next to texts. He was probably the least trusting of strangers. Though, given what he went through, I’d say it was warranted. Of course Texts didn’t say anything, he just scribbled down stuff in his notebook, he had stopped talking shortly after we met him. Oddly none of the other Links elicited the same look of excitement in the kid’s eyes like Hyrule and Legends did (Maybe he was from their timeline like Texts and Worlds were?) everyone else got looks of knowing sympathy (Weird. Had he heard of our legends?) Another thing I noticed was that he was really stiff and he looked anxious, somewhat dizzy, like he wasn’t used to so many people talking to him, even one at a time. Then he started stumbling.

My POV:

It was disorientating coming face-to-face with so many people who I originally thought were only fiction, my head felt like it was twisting inside out. It was hard to keep my footing and that’s when I tried to remove myself from the situation, only to make it worse. I walked (Read stumbled and tripped) my way over to what I could only assume was the kitchen table. Then I started to fall, my ears were ringing and my vision started to haze, I heard yells… I think. It was hard to make out. Some part of me didn’t want to stop falling, it was peaceful, and I hadn’t had peace in so… so long. Then boom. An arm caught me, I didn’t look up, I didn’t want to look up, but then I heard a voice “Are you okay?” It was a calming voice, a soothing voice, and it wrapped me in a warmth I hadn’t felt since before THE OTHER. I eventually looked up to see the red-haired woman from earlier, she smiled at me warmly and asked. “Hey there little guy. How are you feeling?”

Time’s POV:

The kid started stumbling and tripping his way towards the kitchen table, that’s when he started to fall. Most of us were so startled that we were frozen in place, but some of us rushed over to catch him. Luckily we didn’t have to, Malon rushed over to him so quickly you would have thought that she had Pegasus boots on, after she caught him she asked if he was alright. “Y-Yeah, thank you.” Andrew let out a grunt as she helped him up. “You’re welcome. So I’m guessing you’re a new hero?” She asked with a melancholic yet hopeful tone. “His story would seem to suggest that, along with all the wear and tear his body seems to have been through.” I said. “He might just give you a run for your money in the injuries department Wild!” Legends joked. Wild just huffed and rolled his eyes.

Chapter 3: Well this is new

My POV:

This was not the weirdest situation I’ve ever been in, but it certainly was a new one. But I had to admit that after being alone for so long and being hunted down tirelessly for so long that time became redundant this was a nice change of pace. I was at the dinner table with the Link’s eating food that Malon had cooked up, and I gotta say, she is one hell of a cook. I liked how peaceful it was. But eventually the peace had to end. “So how old were you when your quest started? I was twelve.” Legends said “I don’t want to talk about it.” “Come on! I want to know too!” Exclaimed the youngest of them, I finally broke. “I was five! Okay? Are you happy now?” That shut Legends up and also got me a couple of sympathetic looks from the rest of them. “Who did you fight? Was it Ganondorf?” Asked the sailor, I was gonna lose it. But I decided to answer. I didn’t want to describe THE OTHER, I didn’t want to remember it, so I decided to tell them about HABIT.

Time’s POV:

Damnit! Why did Hylia have to throw someone so young into a battle against such a terrifying beast? Just listening to him describing it was harrowing, it was like all the worst parts of Majora and Ganondorf rolled into one maniacally sadistic, impossibly cunning, and damn near invincible ball. And the worst part about it was that it wasn’t just evil, it was silly evil. It was horrendous to even think about. Not even Majora would eat a Baby, let alone in front of its own mother!

Suddenly Andrew got up. “Where are you going?” Malon asked, “I’m going to get some fresh air.” “Oh, okay.” Andrew nodded and went to open the door, but when he did we all suddenly got sucked into another portal.

Chapter 4: “In strange eons even death may die”

Normandy, France, June 6th, 1944.

Black Forest Germany, Unknown month, 1945.

The land of ashen waste/Dr Corinthall’s domain, unimportant.

The Boardwalk/Slenderman’s domain, unimportant.

The Bridge To Nowhere/HABIT’s domain, unimportant.

The Cabin/Andrew’s domain, April 45th, 2023.

My POV:

It was getting kinda annoying having to go through so many back roads to get home once I fell through reality- oh I made them worry about me, didn’t I? Oh well not like I’m gonna see them again. *bang* *bang* *bang* I think I may be corrected. I stood up and got out my gun, I then flipped off the safety and went to answer the door. “Hey guys!”

Time’s POV:

It was hell. Not even Majora would find joy in this place, when we arrived here we were met with nothing but silence and colorless, lifeless woods. “Be on guard! We don’t know what could be lurking here.” I advised. “There is no life here. This place… it was never meant to be kind to life.” Four said as he fell to his knees. “It hurts… It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! Make it stop hurting! Please!” Hyrule cried as he fell to the ground coughing up blood, Wind rushed to his side. “The Goddesses weren’t involved in the creation of this… unholy place. They couldn’t have been.” Sky said, I had half the mind to agree, the only reason I didn’t was to keep myself calm. “Oh god! Oh shit shit shit shit why here? Anywhere but here!” Worlds said, he looked terrified. “What do you mean? Where are we?” “A space between dimensions. A land forsaken by all gods, only damned souls and demons live here now.” We all whipped around to look at Texts as he finished speaking. He looked utterly hopeless. “No mortal soul was ever meant to see this place. The Candleverse was only ever meant to imprison unending spirits.” We all wanted to deny it but when Texts says something with certainty in his voice it is always true. “I-I think we should set up camp for the night. Legends go gather wood, Warriors go with him, if what Texts says is true then he’ll need it. I’ll do the rest.” “O-O-Okay.” Legend said. “Hey it’s gonna be okay.” Warriors assured Legends. I hope he’s right.

—Four Hours Later—

Black and White and Black and White. There wasn’t even Gray, it had felt like days had passed yet it had only been four hours (Or was it five?) It truly felt like a prison, a cruel twisted version of one, but one nonetheless. Hyrule never got better, in fact he got worse. Eventually we heard a noise coming from the forest, at first we thought it was the wind, but then we realized that it was more like breathing, and it sounded like it was getting closer. Then my vision became filled with what Texts and Worlds would call static, its buzzing was persistent and upsetting, eventually a scream rose above the static. “Ahhhhhh! What the hell is that?!” I instantly jumped to my feet and grabbed hold of the voice and ran, I yelled out “Run! Move! Get the fuck away from whatever it is!” “YOU SHALL NOT PASS!” I heard Texts yell, then *shlick!* I whipped my head around, then I saw it; Texts stabbed through the chest with what looked to be a black tendril, he was being whipped around wildly while his notebook was glowing with a holy light. “Babble!” “Fly you fools!” Then there was a flash of blinding light, and I and the person I was holding were sent flying with enough force to kill a Lynel.

— Unknown amount of time later —

World’s POV:

My entire body hurt and ached, it felt like I was hit by a bus (Again), eventually I got up and looked around. It looked like a bomb had exploded, my ears were ringing and my vision was somewhat hazy but it instantly cleared up once I saw a few other forms laying on the ground unconscious. I immediately rushed over to the forms, when I got there I saw that it was Four, well actually five… Fours, one with red clothes on, one with green clothes on,one with purple clothes on, one with blue clothes on, and one that was completely black with a purple tint. Suddenly the dark one got up “W-What happened? Where’s everyone?” It had glowing white/pale yellow eyes and no mouth. I opened my mouth to ask what it was when a drop of something fell on my face, I brought my hand up and wiped it off, that’s when we saw that it was blood, then we both looked up and saw it, Babble’s mangled and broken corpse impaled on a tree branch, or what was left of it anyway, there wasn’t much left of it to identify it as Babble’s but the one thing it did have was his notebook, the notebook that got us out of sticky situations so many times before. The dark Four started sobbing while I could only stand there and look up at the blood dripping corpse of my friend.

—Two Hours Later—

Wild’s POV:

I awoke to the sound of sobbing, I got up on unsteady feet and headed towards the sound, there I found what I could only describe as a shadow Four lying in the fetal position covering his face and sobbing so much that he was hiccuping, Twilight had a thousand-yard stare, I also saw Sky sat facing away muttering prayers to the goddess Hylia and rocking himself back and forth while Wind was trying to calm him, Legends, Warriors, Time, and Hyrule were nowhere to be found. I then looked to my side and found out what the fuss was about; there were five corpses lying on the ground while Worlds was digging graves for each of them, four of them looked like Four while the fifth one was barely recognizable, but it held something that was: Text’s notebook.

Chapter 5: Strangers in a strange land.

—Two Hours Earlier—

Time’s POV:

When I woke up I was met with a hallowing sight; a being in the form of Hyrule that had black skin, dark gray clothes and hair, and light gray eyes and cloth trimmings, carrying the real Hyrule on its back. “What did you do to Hyrule?” I quickly jumped up to my feet and pulled out my sword. “Calm down, I do not intend to harm my guardian.” This thing talked like a cold, analytical machine, but it also carried the sort of care and kindness that a mother would have, but I still would not let my guard down. “What do you mean ‘you’re guardian’? And who-or-what are you?” “I am Hyrule’s shadow, but you may call me Sinatra, and Hyrule is my guardian. I give him strength whilst he gives me form. It is a mutualistic relationship.” “Okay but will you hurt me?” “No. You are my guardian’s friend. Plus it would not be beneficial to me in any way.” “Good. Well with that out of the way; where is everyone else?” “I do not know. This place is wreaking havoc on my guardian’s mental state, and as such using any more magic than is absolutely needed is risky at best and guaranteed death at worst.” I sheathed my sword and started thinking about what to do next. “Well we just gotta keep on moving then.” He nodded at the suggestion and asked me to lead, we then started walking.

—One Hour Later—

Legend’s POV:

I was getting kind of scared. It had been an hour (or was it seven?) Since me and Warriors woke up, and during that time we'd been assaulted by monsters, including a green colored thing, I had grown wary. Warriors was holding up better than I thought he would, considering he was the pretty boy of the group. “How’s that dowsing spell going, have you found anyone yet?” Warriors asked. “Nah. It’s like this place just keeps eating up any magic I throw out.” “Well that’s just dan-“ “Hold up. I think I got something.” We both stopped dead in our tracks as we heard the crunching of leaves growing closer. We both readied ourselves for a fight when suddenly Time and a black and gray Hyrule carrying the real Hyrule showed themselves.

Time’s POV:

Me and Sinatra had been walking for an hour or so. (Thankfully the mind boggling effects of this world did not affect him.) When we had finally found Legends and Warriors. They looked ready to kill Sinatra when they first spotted him, it took some explaining for them to finally settle down enough to put down their weapons. “Okay so what now?” Legends asked. “We continue on and search for shelter.” Then we started walking.

#oc #linked universe #tloz #slenderverse

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creativeashproductions · 4 years ago

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Suddenly Stuck With You // Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Twenty-one years ago Owen Patrick Joyner was born into a life with a bright future and career bringing him two best friends. His best friends Charlie and Jeremy drag the blonde actor to Vegas to celebrate his first legal drink in America. What was supposed to be a weekend for the boys quickly changed all because a certain Canadian met a girl and drank a ton. Now they have to deal with the consequences of their actions.

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, allusion to sex, heartbreak, angst and fluff

Words: 7.1k

A/N: Originally this was going to be a mini series but I can’t be bothered to stretch out this idea. I’m sorry, I just feel like this is shit already and I haven’t felt that happy with my writing lately.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

Fox and Hound Pub, Las Vegas July 2021

“Happy birthday man!” The voice of his castmate, work roommate and best friend announced.

Owen’s eyes found Charlie’s glittering viridescent eyes meeting Owen’s bright blue.

“Why did we have to celebrate my twenty-first in Las Vegas, Charlie?” Owen questioned with one hand, cupped around his first legal drink in America.

Owen had had his fair share of beers in his life both in America and his visits in Germany after he turned sixteen. Charlie and Jeremy had been the ones to drag the actor to Vegas to celebrate. Owen didn’t see the significance of celebrating in a different state than Los Angeles.

“C’mon! You’re twenty-one!” Charlie exclaimed pushing a beer across the table in the bar they had found. Relatively lowkey the boys hadn’t been stopped for pictures by JATP fans thankfully.

Owen nabbed the mug from Charlie’s calloused hand to take a swig of the drink to Charlie’s delight with a sigh. The tall actor scanning the moderately filled bar, the world was coming back to terms after the pandemic officially ended.

“There you go!” The Canadian adventurer spoke nodding his head to the live music a local band was playing.

Owen’s eyes found someone he recognized from a show on the History Channel his dad was incredibly into for several years. Two men sat in a booth next to the bar with food in front of them with the dark-haired one wearing a shirt with a logo. It was hard to make out, but he believed it was for a famous pawn shop in Vegas.

“Drink up. I got the tab tonight.” Charlie informed his distracted best friend, “This is gonna be an incredible year. Shooting for season two with the gang back together.”

“Hey, sorry about that. Care and I had a scheduled live on Insta to do. Happy birthday, man.” Jeremy sat in the booth next to Charlie, still living on the high of seeing his wife.

“This is gonna be a trip to remember,” Charlie announced tapping mugs with his two fellow castmates and best friends.

Oh, how right Charlie was.

Your best friend lifted the wineglass to her red lips with a mischievous look in her eye that concerned you as usual. Cherry, nicknamed for her fierce love of cherries, had a wild streak that had mellowed after graduating college last year. Cherry had invited you to stay with her for a month to recover from a devastating loss. The offer hadn’t entirely left her lips before you bought a plane ticket from Heathrow Airport in England to Las Vegas.

You had met Cherry in your teens through an exchange program set up between your schools a few years back. Even since you two met at sixteen, you had been best friends and unable to get rid of the other.

“Why are we here?” You asked, tapping a manicured nail freshly done at a spa courtesy of Cherry. Of course Cherry chose a shade of red as per usual while you had chosen a traditional white tip French Manicure.

“I know the breakup was tough, but you need to let loose.” Cherry’s hand reached over to squeeze yours. The sympathetic smile irritating you for god knows what number of time it was.

Averting your eyes, you found yourself scanning the pub with barely any attention but you wanted to escape the warm amber brown of your friend. You loved Cherry, but you wanted to mourn the loss of your relationship within your own time and way.

“I need another drink!” You called over the loud music before pushing away from the table to head to the bar.

Ordering your favourite drink, you leaned against the dark wood with your arms crossed and a faraway gaze. Unaware of the man waiting next to you for his own drink.

“Hey!” The male spoke, bringing your attention to his soft hazel gaze.

Your e/c eyes finding the man speaking with a kind and absolutely breathtaking smile framed by the scruff his face sported. Facial hair sometimes turned you off if it wasn’t worn styled for the individual. This guy, however, pulled it off with the brunette moustache matching the medium-length head of hair.

“Hi.” You softly replied gracefully grabbing the drink when the barkeep set it down before hustling down the counter to another customer, “Am I in your way?”

“No. I already got my drink. You looked lost, and I saw the bartender coming. I didn’t want anyone slipping you something.”

“Thank you…”

“Charlie.” The man spoke, holding out his hand to you with his smile still on his cheerful expression. Your hand slid into his warm grip.

“Y/N.”

You and Charlie retreated to an empty table deep in conversation with such ease it felt like you had known each other for years. You learnt he was living in LA, but originally from Canada, a province called New Brunswick.

Charlie was enthralled as you told him how you had been born and raised in America for the first ten years of your life. After age ten, you moved to England for your mom’s job offer and settled in your father’s childhood hometown; he was originally from England but met your mother on vacation in California.

While you conversed, Cherry found you entirely focused on the male with an expression she hadn’t seen in ages. Her eyes floated by to you periodically for your safety until you sent her a text.

You: Sorry, I ditched you. I got caught up talking with Charlie.

Cherry sent a response back before paying your tabs and heading to her apartment a few blocks away from Fox and Hound Pub. Her heart was excited for how the night would pan out because the sexual tension could be felt across the duo’s room. She was confident you wouldn’t make any stupid decisions.

Oh, how wrong she was.

A hiss preceded the deep groan as a group of construction workers pounded away in your skull painfully. The back of your eyelids painted red from the sunlight pouring into the room from the open blinds.

Scrubbing one hand over your eyes, you slowly sat up with a satisfying stretch after a well-rested sleep. The cool air from the air conditioner raising goosebumps on your bare skin…wait a minute bare skin? The slightest sound of the sheet rustling together, freezing you in place. Firstly, you glanced down at your bare chest before sliding your eyes over to the left of the bed.

Eyes equally large the man from last night, Charlie, cried out when he sat up too quickly. The sheets pooled around his bare waist.

“Okay. Definitely didn’t wake up in my own bed.” You muttered leaning over to find your abandoned shirt on the floor.

Pulling it on despite the stare from Charlie’s hazel eyes, you scoured the room for the rest of your clothes. The room was silent as Charlie slid on his clothing like you did before you stood covered up in the hotel room.

“So, obviously, we slept together. Do you remember if we used-“Charlie started to ask. Your mouth opening to end his sentence.

“I’m on the pill. We used a condom.” You informed him equally as relieved you hadn’t made a stupid decision, “Thankfully even fully sloshed we used protection. We didn’t make a stupid decision.”

At least you hooked up with a really nice guy instead of a scummy guy only in it for his own pleasure and disregarding yours. Vague memories from the night in the sheets swayed you into believing the charming man was more of a giver than a receiver.

Charlie’s mouth opened he felt a new weight barely discernable, but he felt it, “Uh…guess again.”

Eyes furrowing you found the ring on his finger with shame, “Oh my god, you’re married?!”

Holy shit, you slept with a married man. You’re a homewrecker you thought to yourself getting further worked up. What if this guy had kids. Not noticing your feet had started pacing the room.

“I wasn’t yesterday morning.” Charlie faltered keeping his eyes on the cheap ring he definitely hadn’t been wearing yesterday. His eyes moving to look at the matching wedding band on your left hand, bringing you attention to it as well.

“Well, fuck.” The deep sigh guiding awareness from the male to the weary posture that came with the heartbreak.

When Cherry invited you to visit and take solace in your best friend, you never expected to wake up from a one night stand turned more. Tears built with the embarrassment of crying in front of his stranger that hadn’t asked for a morning with a hangover and a new wife.

“Whoa! Hey, we can get it annulled.” Charlie stuttered rushing over to draw you into his strong arms with such gentle care it melted your heart. The leftovers that hadn’t shattered to your toes from the failed relationship you escaped the UK for.

“This is a mess.” You sighed birthing an unintentional word vomit, “I left the UK to visit my best friend, Cherry. She brought me to the bar to cheer me up and instead of attempting the ‘to get over someone you have to get under someone’ I fuck that up as well. I get married.”

Charlie’s hazel gaze widened at the revelation, “You broke up with someone?”

“More cliché. He’s a rich frat boy in his fifth year of college, he’s brilliant but chose to stay for the frat house. He got a girl pregnant, and now he’s in a forced engagement.” The smile you hoped was strong came out wobbling, “Then he asked me to be his ‘official’ real relationship. An embellished way of being the secret girlfriend/mistress.”

Charlie winced, leaning back to stare down, “How long ago was this?”

“Around seven months? I kept it quiet for a while. No one knew until last month. I’ve gotten a lot of pity even if I’m over him but not the betrayal.” Charlie whistled lowly with a nod and a particular look in his eyes.

“This is gonna come out of the left-field entirely, but what if we check out the laws on Vegas weddings? See if we fit the annulment or if we need a divorce? If we need a divorce, we can play it out to make his regret his decision and get everyone off your back?”

The refusal just about dropped from your tongue before something changed, “Let’s do it.”

As Charlie quickly get ready, he nabbed his phone from the charger by the bed before he slipped his hand in yours. He answered your confusion with the excuse of getting used to each other. Instead of fighting the blatant denial, you followed him to his rented car for the week to give him directions to Cherry’s apartment.

“So, what’s our story?” You asked the man, “We don’t know each other that well.”

“My full name is Charlie Jeffrey Gillespie. I’m Canadian but living in Los Angeles for work, I’m here for my best friend Owen’s twenty-first birthday with our other best friend, Jeremy. I’m twenty-two turning twenty-three in August.” Charlie spitfire navigating the streets of Vegas with practised ease.

“You already know my full name. I’m twenty-three as of a few months prior. You already know I moved from America to England over a decade ago.” The hesitation came from telling Charlie the career you had had since you turned twenty.

The topic of jobs was evaded as you learnt about each other’s likes and dislikes in a crash course to convince Cherry. Just as Charlie started to list his siblings, his phone rang through the car’s Bluetooth.

“I’m guessing that’s the Owen you came to Vegas with?” You questioned flicking your gaze between the Caller ID and your husband. God even thinking of having a husband was incredibly odd.

“Yeah. I have to answer.” Charlie’s exuded nerves with his fingers tapping the steering wheel, “Can you play along?”

He didn’t wait for an answer before clicking the accept.

“Dude, where are you? We were supposed to get food together? I have a wicked hangover.” The voice of this Owen spoke with a tinge of annoyance you only caught with your training.

“I met Y/N.” Charlie infused his voice with the nerves and a slight change to his voice that impressed you as he stepped into a set of shoes in his chest of roles.

“Who? Is that the girl from last night? The one you had that drinking challenge with?” Owen questioned from his side of the phone settled at a table with Jeremy nursing a coffee for his hangover.

“I haven’t told anyone, but after Jeremy’s wedding, it made me feel like I was missing something? I signed up for a dating app, and with filming, I forgot about it. About six months ago, I met someone, and we’ve constantly been talking.”

“That’s why you refused the blind dates from Sav and me? Not that you wanted to focus on work.” Jeremy interjected, “You should have told us, man. We wouldn’t judge you.”

“I know that, but we all blew up after the show. I just wanted to keep this between us until we knew for sure but guys…this girl is the One.” Charlie chuckled, shaking his head at the irony of already being married to you.

“We’re happy. So, did you want to take me to Vegas so you could meet her?” Owen questioned with a pit in his stomach of Charlie’s motives not being only for him.

“I’m in the car with her. She’s sending a few emails for work and blasting music. I can hear it from the driver’s seat.” Charlie joked to the boys with the lie slipping quickly, “Hey! Y/N, sweetheart.”

“Hm?” You interject with such ease, Charlie wondered if you were an actor as well. The practised and on beat performance, “Oh! Hi, sorry. I’m Y/n, you must be Owen and Jeremy? Charlie’s talked about you guys. Congratulations on your wedding Jeremy.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Jeremy lightly laughed, shaking his head at the voice coming from Owen’s phone on speaker.

“Happy birthday Owen. I wish I could have met you in person to wish you a happy birthday, but Charlie and I tend to forget to tell each other where our trips happen! It was such a shock to see him last night.” Just as Charlie had used affected nerves, you played up the loved up role, “My best friend and I almost chose a different pub than Fox and Hound.”

Owen and Jeremy’s grins grew at the genuine care in your voice as you continued speaking before Charlie interrupted you.

“Sweetheart I think they get it!” Charlie laughed with a glittering of stars in his eyes, “It was shocking to see Y/n in Las Vegas of all the 50 states. This week has been the best. Getting to bring my best friend to Vegas for his big twenty-one and meeting the love of my life in person?”

“Charlie’s dropping me off at my best friends. You’ll have him again in an hour. I hope you have a wonderful weekend Owen.” You finished unknowingly winning them over at the care in your voice and the happiness you brought out in Charlie.

Owen ended the call with a quick goodbye, leaving the rented car quiet between the new husband and wife.

“That went better than I expected.” Charlie admitted with a soft smile on his lips only to drop at your expression, “What?”

“Our next obstacle in convincing my best friend this relationship is real.”

“I’m sure it will go-“

“She’s an extremely successful criminal prosecutor who graduated high school a year early and fast-tracked through college.”

“Well, shit,” Charlie stated, leaning back in his seat as the entire situation hit him that he had married a stranger.

Charlie may be able to fool his friends but his family? His mother to be specific would immediately know what was up. The young Canadian had always been open on one day getting married surrounded by his family and have his parents there. Dropping this bomb on his family could only go one way: terrible.

“I’m a good actor. I’m sure we can convince her. We’ll get together with her tomor-“

“Unfortunately, I’m meeting with her in a few hours.” You revealed with a sheepish smile on your pretty features. Charlie could feel his heart drop in dread and fear at how the hand given wasn’t in his favour.

The drive was quiet as dread filled the two individuals as the distance was eaten up between the car and the apartment that housed an intelligent woman. Cherry Parker had only been working at the firm for a year with a clear future as a partner within ten years. Cherry with perfect grades in high school and high percentages in college and a perfect smile. A natural at finding people’s ticks she would be near impossible to deceive.

“We could turn around. Make an excuse to be introduced through the phone.” Charlie supplied, biting his lip, “Oh my god. She’s not gonna kill me, is she?”

“No.” You swiftly told the spiralling man, “She’d kill me and frame you.”

Maybe that wasn’t the best to calm the man down as he freaked out more, “Oh my god. What are we gonna do!?”

The apartment loomed as the car came to a stop outside just as the individual wearing seafoam green peacoat stepped to the entrance. Her blunt bob of caramel brown hair and unique earrings screaming that it was Cherry.

“That’s her.” You breathed as Charlie parallel parked in between a compact car and an SUV in front. Jerry, the doorman, waved with his beaming smile that reminded you of a jolly man just as he had since you had first visited Cherry in her apartment.

Jerry mumbled towards Cherry before she turned swiftly on her black pumps notorious to her work attire. Since her first year of law school, she had gone through two pairs and adored them with her new income.

The woman rushed over as your door opened with the help of Charlie, how you didn’t notice he had turned the car off and walked to your side, appalled you. The 5’8 male was shoved to the side as Cherry tugged you into her arms with a scathing glare at Charlie.

“I don’t know who you are or how much you rocked her world, but it’s been hours. I thought you kidnapped her.” Cherry hissed at the male with her brown eyes flaring with anger that made both you and Charlie flinch.

“Whoa! We got stuck in traffic, and Charlie’s friend called.” Your hands raised in defence at the pointed glare now directed at you. The amber-brown eyes scanned your form and other than the apparent walk of shame appearance, you looked fine.

Cherry’s red lips parted for the usual questions she gave to all her friends after one-night stands. With a subtle shake of your head, Cherry tabled the questions for later before locking her eyes on the newcomer.

“Cherry Parker. And what’s the name of the guy that plastered a smile on her face?” Cherry questioned, holding out her hand to him.

“Charlie Gillespie. It’s nice to meet you.” Charlie replied with that charming smile that melted your heart. It didn’t appear to melt Cherry with the thick skin she developed first in her family and then as a lawyer.

“Likewise. Well, thank you for delivering her safe.” Cherry spoke hand, reaching for your own impatient for all the details she would demand. Her words failed when her amber gaze peered at the near-identical faces, “What did you do?”

The demand startled the two individuals before the attorney began ushering the duo in the building you had been staying at. Her red nail stabbing the golden-hued elevator surrounded by emerald green displaying a vintage colour scheme.

“Please tell me it’s not as bad as senior year?” Cherry pleaded massaging the bridge of her nose with her free hand. The other clenching her briefcase so tight the knuckles had turned bleach bone white.

“What happened senior year?” Charlie asked following the two best friends into a spacious apartment that could fit two of his in it. His hazel eyes catching the unspoken conversation between the two best friends.

“Not important.” Cherry sighed eyes, lowering to your fingers, “Of course. Vegas. You eloped. Jesus Y/N, you know how your family is.”

Catching the confusion from Charlie, you elaborated for Cherry, “My family is incredibly strict and old fashioned. Divorce isn’t accepted in my family for anything less than the most serious scenarios.”

“Drunk eloping in Vegas? Practically get prepared for silent judgemental stares from Nana and drowning disappointment.” Cherry sighed, pushing a strand of her caramel brown locks behind her ear.

“I have a plan for that. We can pretend to be married before amicably divorcing later. We can figure out the details for a reason later in future. We already started the ruse.” Charlie admitted seating himself at the island in the spacious kitchen his mother would dream of cooking in.

Charlie could already tell just how successful Cherry was with her apartment and her outfit that dripped money. Her kindness, however, set her on a different level to the people Charlie had encountered with the same dollar signs.

“Of course,” Cherry grumbled digging around for drinks. Charlie fully anticipated it to be some kind of fancy wine, but he was proven wrong.

Cherry had taken out two different kinds of beer from the fridge, along with cold mugs straight from the freezer.

“What just because I’m dolled up you think I drink strictly wine? I have that for my mother and sister when they visit.” Charlie barely caught the eyeroll at Cherry’s mention of her family as she turned to you.

“Besides, I’m my father’s daughter.” You cheered cracking open your choice into the mug with skilled ease. The foam perfectly dealt with it brought a smile to Charlie’s face.

“Okay, so this ruse. What did you do so far?”

“My friends think she and I met on a dating app seven months ago and coincidently ran into each other last night at the bar. We’ve kept it private because of my job-“

“-along with Y/N’s job.” Cherry simply spoke raising the rim of her mug to her lips, “Okay, there’s no way you’d sign up on an app after Harvey. So, I went behind your back and made one for you.”

“Then Charlie messaged me after I found out. It started off as apologizing that he chose my profile. It started a friendship that turned into a relationship.”

“We did Facetime dates before becoming exclusive, and you wanted to ensure it was something that would last longer than a fling.” Charlie inserted with a beaming grin as he felt into ease with the two girls before him.

“I think we got a story for you two. Just two rules: One, don’t go falling in love with each other and two, don’t get pregnant.” Cherry joked sitting in the barstool across from you and Charlie. Her red lips revealing white teeth, one tooth with a tiny chip out of it from high school.

The rest of the days’ Charlie was in Las Vegas he alternated between his friends and you with the odd time he invited you to dinner with them. There was such ease between Charlie and you that hadn’t be there even with your ex Harvey. Unfortunately, the time in Las Vegas dwindled down until you were dropping the boys off at the airport.

“I’ll call you when I get home.” Charlie mumbled in the earshot of his friends, “Whirlwind wedding-“

“Married.” Owen scoffed in disbelief once more having found out at dinner last night that included colourful words. Jeremy had been placed in silent shock seeing the real matching wedding bands.

“In a month, you’ll fly out to England to help me pack up the flat and then we’ll fly to see your family for your cousin’s wedding.” You finished for the man with a beaming grin that had steadily lost its fake appeal. It quite literally felt like you had known Charlie for longer than a few days.

“It was really nice meeting you. I hope Charlie can convince you to come visit my wife and me. You and Carolynn would hit it off.”

“Could I bring Bindi?” Owen joked as he tugged you into a hug as soon as Jeremy had released you. Charlie was quick to drag you back into his embrace, even adding a kiss to your forehead.

The airport speakers announced the second warning of their flight number boarding rather suddenly in which the trio frantically rushed. The feeling of your stomach dropped took you by surprise just as much as the manicured hand of Cherry.

“You okay?” Cherry asked softly sliding her hand down your arm to clutch yours in hers. It was an act of comfort you both had done throughout your friendship, whether it be uncomfortable situations or heartbreak.

“I feel like I’ve known him years instead of days. Cherry, I think I’m in danger of falling for him.” You fully admitted turning your head to meet her concerned brown orbs.

“Sweetheart, you’ve never been good at doing no feelings.” Cherry replied with a squeeze of your hand, “He feels the same. Now we need you to get to your gate since you’re ditching me.”

“As much as I would adore staying here. I need to get back to England to finish packing my flat.” You informed Cherry with a small grin as her red lips parted in a gasp at your announcement.

You had temporarily relocated back to the US at eighteen when you were recruited into the CIA, and then you were sent to England for work. It was very under the cover, and Cherry knew the basics but not the entirety of your career.

“You’re coming back!” Cherry cheered grinning at what could be the best news of the week for the lawyer. No more fumbling of time zones and long distances between phone calls leading to relying on messaging.

“I am!” You beamed right back, “I’ll move to Washington for a year and then hopefully I can be transferred to Los Angeles. As much as I love Las Vegas, it isn’t the place I want to live.”

“It would make sense to move to LA since Charlie is there. You could even use the marriage being the reason you’re moving instead.” Cherry offered with her lips turned up, yet her brown eyes didn’t glitter.

Cherry missed having you around like back in high school. Living apart sucked for the two best friends but at least you would be in the same country.

“This is insane. I still can’t believe I’m married.” You whispered, staring up at the high ceiling of the airport. You relied on your instincts to walk in the busy airport to your gate.

“I wasn’t even there.” Cherry snorted walking in complete sync until you both came to a stop at your gate. Her eyes saddened further after so many days spent together when she wasn’t working, “I’m gonna miss you.”

“Knowing my mother. She’ll be planning, and as she’ll say it, a real wedding for Charlie and I.”

Another lingering hug with the caramel brunette was the last for a while as more and more distance came between you. Metres changed to different continents within hours, and suddenly you felt more alone than ever.

The rain was drizzling in London, a welcome change to the blistering heat Vegas had given you in the days you had been there. However, the most welcome sight was the six-foot-one lean frame of your father leaning against his pride and joy. The bright metallic blue with two very wide vertical stripes up the hood of it had been a staple in your family since you were twenty.

The blue Shelby Cobra had been challenging to find, but it was worth the massive grin on Theodore Y/L/N’s face. You and your mother had joined forces with your uncles to get it for your Dad, and one of them was a mechanic that did most of the work.

“Dad!” You yelled, jumping into his arms. Dad’s grip tightened around your shoulders with his face smushed into your neck.

“Darling!” He exclaimed just as he did no matter how long it had been since you saw each other. You were closest with him from father-daughter days watching football (the European version of soccer).

“Mum at home?” You questioned as he placed the small amount of luggage in the tiny boot of the car. His e/c eyes, the ones you inherited from him, twinkled with mischief and a wink.

“You didn’t hear it from me, but there’s a surprise.” He spoke ushering you into the passenger seat on the left side of the car. It was still jarring driving on the opposite side of the road in America.

“Another one to sway me from moving to Washington?” You retorted to the tall male in the driver’s seat. At the mention of moving his smile dimmed like it did when you flew to see Cherry for a while.

As he drove down the streets, your eyes scoured his features as if it had been years instead of mere weeks. He had been in Germany for business for a week when you flew out to Las Vegas. His hair still had the dark locks with grey mixed throughout as if had been since he was in his late twenties. The laugh lines still the same as they had been previously, but the most important thing was that he was still healthy.

Ted Y/L/N had beaten a severe bout of sickness a few years ago that had taken months of recovery. It was just second nature to check him before anything else.

“How’s Cherry.”

“Living happily with her success story.” You piped up, finding it would be the perfect place to start planting Charlie’s existence. Your father glanced over slightly confused as you continued, “After Harvey, Cherry signed me up for a dating app. I hit it off with someone, and I’ve been dating them ever since.”

“A dating app.” He questioned glancing over, “Aren’t those what people use to sleep around? Nothing wrong with having sex but isn’t that what the apps are predominantly used for?”

Your lip was taken between your teeth, “Some of them are. The one that Cherry did was surprisingly more about human connection. He’s originally from Canada but moved to Los Angeles for work.”

“Hm.” Ted hummed keeping his entire focus on the road, “And are you okay with this so soon after-“

“I never acknowledged this, but I waited a few months before I told you that Harvey and I broke up. I hit it off with Charlie, and well I’ve never been so in love before.”

“I sense there’s a chapter in this new love that I’m not going to be thrilled about. Out with it.” He ordered momentarily glancing over to see you sheepishly grinning, “Are you preg-“

“I married Charlie-“

To both your father’s and your horror the sound of the Shelby’s tires screeching reached your ears. The car skidded to a stop in the middle of the street with yelps coming straight from your surprised mouth. Dad’s eyes blinking owlishly at the road.

“You’re married? To someone, I’ve never even met?” The question was croaked from the middle-aged man staring straight ahead. The car slowly moved down the road as Dad applied less pressure to the pedal.

“It was so fast, but I swear you’ll meet him. He’s flying out to help me pack, and we’ll fly out to Washington. You’ll love him.” You gushed ignoring the smart of guilt at lying to the first man that had ever truly loved you.

The father that had learnt how to do your hair and supported you in everything you did; for the first few years, he had been a stay at home dad. Your mother was the one that worked and then when you got to the right age, your father returned to work. He had taught you how to ride a bike and drive, the police didn’t need to know you were driving years before you legally could.

“Your Nan is going to be pissed.” He snorted, shaking his head, “You’ll be throwing him to the wolves at the reunion.”

The reunion you had completely forgotten about. Shit.

A month later brought Charlie to your small half-packed flat in London and then straight to your parents’ house in the country. The country home had been in your family for years before your parents moved out of the city full time.

“Okay. So, your five-year-old cousin is adamant he be called Agent Jack because he works for James Bond. Don’t mention football, which is soccer in the US, or else World War III between your Nan and great-aunt Dottie will happen.”

“Oh! My mom loves ice hockey! She grew up playing until she was in high school!” You gasped glancing over at Charlie in the passenger seat of the car. He’d arrived two days ago ahead of schedule to get rested for the reunion.

This morning he had spent longer getting ready with his hair meticulously styled and his clothes chosen to fit the weather and the event. No matter how much you had soothed him, the nerves still flared. This wasn’t meeting your SO’s parents, this meeting his wife’s family who had no clue about him.

“Do I call your Dad, Mr. Y/L/N or Sir?” Charlie questioned as the country zipped by in the clear window of the car. His fingers tapped the beat to the JATP song ‘Now or Never’ on the black denim of his jeans.

“Go with Sir.” You replied, reaching one hand over to grasp his in your hand, “My Nan will interrogate you about where we would have kids. Aunt Dottie will ask if you got me pregnant and that’s I’ve never said anything about us.”

“I…really? They’ll ask that?” Charlie choked turning to face you entirely with a face pale as bleached bone. The wince you offered was enough for him to relax into the leather of the car.

“Their old ladies that live on gossip and personal questions. But don’t underestimate Nan if she gets plastered and demands an arm wrestle. You won’t win.”

The car rolled to a stop on the rocky drive filled with other vehicles of all colours and types. The house was the background feature of the menagerie of cars. It was a gorgeous colour your mom had spent weeks trying to find in countless shops before she saw it three hours away. Flowers were strategically placed for viewing pleasure.

“Your house is beautiful.” Charlie breathed circling the car to open your door without prompt just it had become second nature to him. His hazel eyes moved across the parcel of land your parents owned.

Before your lips could even part to respond, you were attacked in a hug by two little pairs of arms. The sandy coloured hair, one set of curls hitting past their shoulders and the other a mop on his head. You knew immediately it was your little cousin Jack and his twin JJ from the strength of the hug.

“Y/N!” The twins squealed jumping in their spots as their father, your uncle Seth, corralled them. His eyes crinkled with the grin that matched your father and other uncles. It was the signature L/N smile your family carried.

“Hey! It’s Agent Jack and-“

“Doctor JJ! I’m Jack’s doctor!” JJ clapped her small hands together, displaying her cute little dimples. Charlie’s quiet awe melted your traitor heart entirely, “Is he your boyfriend?”

The three adults’ all had a deep chuckle at her cute little scrunched nose as she saw Charlie’s hand grasp yours.

“Not exactly. You know how Dad and I are married?” Seth asked, crouching in front of his little girl. Her eyes blinked in confusion, “Y/N and Charlie are married. Y/N is his wife, and he’s Y/N’s husband.”

In his usual tornado-esque style, Jack had already taken off around the side of the house to the family gathered. JJ’s hand had slid into her father’s familiar grip.

“But Daddy you and Dad are husbands? How can they be married if she’s a girl?” JJ pouted with her green eyes twinkling in suspicion.

“Well, JJ. When two boys get married, they are husbands, if two girls get married, they are wives, but if a boy and girl get married, they become husband and wife. Or maybe depending on the genders they prefer to be called partners.” Seth told his little girl as his husband Fred rested his hand on his shoulder. While Seth was fair-haired and blue eyes, his husband Fred was the example of tall, dark and handsome with green eyes.

“Okay.” JJ simply spoke, skipping over to grab Charlie’s hand in her left and yours in her right. The little girl dragging you two in the direction her brother had disappeared around where the noise grew louder.

“Relax.” You whispered to the wide-eyed Canadian steadily becoming quieter and more nervous. As soon as you rounded the corner of the house, JJ released your hands to chase after Jack and your other cousins.

“You have a big family,” Charlie mumbled, looking over the adults and the young children set away. His eyes found your parents wrapped in each other’s arms talking with a woman confidently wearing the marks of time and wisdom, “You have your father’s smile.”

“I know.” You spoke tugging him to your parents, “Dad! Mum!”

The couple glanced over to see the man that had snuck into their family without a hint. Your father was quick to tug you in a bear hug with a resounding kiss on your forehead. Mum had yanked Charlie into a hug as well that relaxed him with the words she whispered in his ear.

“This is Charlie Gillespie. Charlie this is my mum and dad Theodore and Amelia.” You swiftly introduced the three people in your life.

It was tense for a moment before it melted away, “He’s a lot better than Harvey.”

“Ted!” Mum spoke slapping his arm, “It’s not his fault he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth-“

“-and a boob in his hand.” Dad chortled, dodging the slap from your mortified Mum. Her dark eyes wide open in shock, she really shouldn’t be surprised with your father, at how he had spoken.

Charlie’s lips parted in a strong of impish laughter bringing a grin to your little party’s faces. All the nerves from before melted from the Canadian as he found he fit in perfectly with your parents. His hand never felt yours the rest of the night, and with it, you wished you didn’t have to live with the ruse. You had fallen swiftly for the Canadian and wished this was marriage was real.

It wouldn’t be until Charlie, and you had devoured the food and two mugs of beer that the truth comes out in the upstairs bathroom. You couldn’t be sure who made the first move, but two hours upon arriving at the reunion Charlie had you pinned against the bathroom door. Lips moving against each other like you’d been made for each other.

“Mhm.” Charlie moaned, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. The vision of seeing your bruises hips had a flutter in your stomach.

Heat rose from your stomach to your chest as your fingers slid into his once perfectly groomed hair. His lips parting yours with a warmth that washed over your entire body like the sun brushing skin after peeking behind a fluffy cloud. If Heaven was a feeling, this would be it.

Charlie’s hands slid under your shirt to rest on the warmth of your hips, a fire flared at his mere touch. He only parted from your lips at the sound of the floorboards outside the bathroom.

“Call me crazy, or the beer is making me say this. I’ve never felt this way for someone like I do for you,” Charlie whispered brushing your temple with his lips. The words created a shiver down your spine, “We have this connection and ease between us. I see you in the sunlight when I first wake up, and all I ever want to do is cuddle you close.”

“Char-“

“I know we’ve gone about this out of order, but I’d really like to be more than what we are. I want to be more than a guy making your ex regret hurting you. I want to be more than just your accidental husband. I want to do this the right way.”

“Me too.” You fully admitted, “Watching you geek out over my dad’s car with me. I want to keep seeing that. There’s something I’ve been keeping from you that I need to say before this goes further.”

“What’s wrong?” Charlie murmured cupping your cheeks in his warm hands. His hazel eyes lingered on your swollen lips that no doubt matched his own.

Your bright e/c eyes flickered between his hazel orbs with something he couldn’t quite decipher.

“If we do this, there are things I won’t be able to talk to you about when it comes to my job. It’s sensitive information, and no matter how much I trust you, I won’t be able to say anything. Charlie, the reason I’m moving to Washington is because I finished my tasks.”

Your hands moved around as you spoke to the silent Canadian just staring at you, “So what kept you in England for so long?”

“I work for the CIA. I have since I was recruited on a college campus a few years ago.” You revealed to the flabbergasted actor blinking rapidly. His mouth hung open, and his eyes widened more than you thought possible.

“So, we’re both in the business of deceit and pretending.” He grumbled, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, “I’m an actor by the way. It doesn’t matter what your job is, all I care about is trying to make this work.”

That was the moment that turned your relationship around, a year later, you had traditionally renewed your vows. Your wedding in the backyard of your parents’ house with friends and family watching as you walked down the aisle in your white wedding dress. Charlie waiting with the officiant unaware of the tiny gift of a little bean inside your belly growing.

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monokyokyo · 3 years ago

Text

Delivery Boy

I literally forgot to post this 💀 Basically Flower Boy pt 2 but from Yeosang's perspective

For the longest time, Yeosang never believed in love at first sight. He saw it as a cheap way to keep children on the lookout for their soulmates. It was a simple myth. What if the person doesn't return your feelings? What if they've already found "the one"? All of it was absurd to him.

Yet that all changed when he passed by a small flower shop on his way to a delivery.

In reality, Yeosang could care less about plants so they surely weren't the things that caught his eye. As he made his rounds, parking his bike next to a tiny bouquet, he peered into the flower shop next door. Out of curiosity, his eyes lingered on it, examining its colourful decor and few customers through the glass. Though they were the last things to catch his attention.

With fluffy, brown hair and hazel eyes that sparkled like diamonds, Yeosang watched the small shopkeeper skip from client to client, providing his assistance wherever it may be needed. He just seemed so innocent. So adorable. So... "Cute."

"Yah! Delivery boy! Are you going to bring me my food or not?" The shout of his customer snapped Yeosang back to reality and he hastily scampered to deliver them their meal, apologising the whole way. That didn't stop him from glancing back at the flower shop though, a small grin forming on his face when he looked back at the counter where the flower boy stood.

When arriving back at the small restaurant he worked at, Yeosang's excitement didn't go unnoticed by his coworker, who was startled by the way he yelled when he entered the building. "HONGJOONG! HOLY SHIT!"

The man ahead of him was his hyung and one of the few people working at the restaurant. It was a small, family-run establishment, so there was not much staff needed to run it.

Hongjoong collected his breath after having the living daylights scared out of him by how the brunette had screamed but smiled regardless, quirking his brow with intrigue. "What an entrance. Everything alright, Sangie?"

"No. Not at all." The redhead watched the way his coworker slumped into the seat nearest to the front counter. Before he could ask what was so wrong, Yeosang beat him to it. Saying, "Have you ever laid eyes on someone so pretty that they make your heart beat fifty miles for an hour and you want to go in and tell them they what they've done to your poor body but are afraid they would look at you weirdly because this is the first time you've actually seen one another so it would just end up being awkward for the both of you? Have you ever felt like that Hongjoong?"

The older opened his mouth then closed it immediately, furrowing his brow and trying to see if he understood the waterfall of information that was just thrown at him. "No... No, I don't think I've ever felt like that..."

"I must be sick. Maybe I'm coming down with a fever?"

Hongjoong squinted at him. He was indeed turning red but he had a feeling it wasn't from a fever. So he just chuckled. "Looks like someone's got a crush~" He sang as he reached over to ruffle the younger's brown locks. Yet to his surprise, Yeosang seemed quite terrified by this notion, immediately smacking his hyung's hand away and looking up at him with wide eyes.

"C-Crush?" He stuttered out, looking oddly terrified. "I can't have a crush on someone! What if he doesn't like me? What if he thinks I'm weird? Oh god, I can't get married yet! I'm too young!"

The redhead was left with a loss for words. Married? What kind of Disney movies had this kid been watching? "Yeosang, just because you have a crush on someone doesn't mean you have to date them. Let alone marry them."

Yet Yeosang only scoffed. "You clearly don't get out enough."

~~~

Over the next few days, the only thing Yeosang could think of was that flower boy. It was almost annoying given how they had never even had a conversation before. Love at first sight didn't exist. It simply wasn't a thing. So why was he still on his mind?

Hongjoong had easily spotted his predicament, given how the restaurant wasn't very busy that day, giving the young brunette time to lounge around. Chuckling, he walked over to boop his nose, watching it scrunch up irritably. "What?"

"I'm going to do a delivery, I'll be back in a few minutes?"

Yeosang furrowed his brow, sitting upright. "Why so soon?" Hongjoong just shrugged, adjusting a bag on his shoulder with the food in it.

"I'm just going down the road. There's a flower shop over there, you know it? The owner ordered spicy ramen." Hearing that, Yeosang shot to his feet, his interest finally piqued.

"He likes ramen? I like ramen!"

"Yeah, everyone likes ramen." He laughed and made his way towards the door. However, Yeosang yelled something that kept him from leaving.

"I'll do it!" Now, Yeosang would never volunteer to do a delivery. Most days, he would rather be sitting behind the counter on his phone, scrolling through Twitter and avoiding any actual work. So hearing him want to do something made Hongjoong eye him sceptically.

Yeosang quickly caught onto this and couldn't risk him saying no. "Please, please, please!" Despite the fear in Hongjoong's eyes at hearing him beg for something, Yeosang was handed the bag regardless.

"Why do you want to go so badly? It's not like you to do your job..." His statement was ignored by Yeosang, who only focussed on shoving a hat on his head and a mask over his face. Hongjoong's expression turned bewildered to downright concerned when he put the sunglasses on.

Nevertheless, Yeosang left the restaurant looking like some sort of mad man on the run, ramen in hand. He trekked down the road, clutching his delivery like his life depended on it. The strange looks he received from civilians didn't bother him, as the only thing on his mind was entering that flower shop and meeting its owner.

His hand trembled around the door handle, reluctant to so much as graze it. Luckily, he wasn't given any more time to stand there like an idiot because the glass entrance suddenly flung open. Yeosang shrieked, nearly dropping the food when he jumped back.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I thought the door might have been locked, I'm so sorry for scaring you!"

There he was. The flower boy. He looked at Yeosang with wide, worried eyes that were so shiny he could have stared at them for days. Had the other male not started to speak, that was exactly what he would have done too. "Sir? Are you okay? You've been staring for a bit now..."

Yeosang almost squealed, yes, squealed, in embarrassment. Doing his best to save face, he hastily shoved the box of ramen in his hands, keeping his head down the entire time. Though his red face was covered by his mask, Yeosang swore to god he was so warm that he would have melted it right off.

As soon as the box was in the other man's grasp, Yeosang sped off. "Hey! What about the money?" He didn't care. He couldn't stand there a minute longer and risk imploding from the inside out.

Hongjoong flinched when the front door suddenly slammed open, with Yeosang running in soon after. "Jesus! You'll break the door! What happened? Did you get mugged or something?"

"Worse." He groaned. Slinking off to the counter, Yeosang fell against the object, a heavy sigh of dismay leaving his lips. "The flower boy... I saw his face... H-He spoke to me..."

The redhead, once concerned, smiled. "No wonder you wanted to do the delivery," Yeosang could be so dramatic when it came to his feelings. Though Hongjoong didn't mean to laugh, he often found it to be quite entertaining how much stake he would put on little encounters like this.

Once again, the entrance to the shop entered, although not as violently as before. "Hello?" The voice that had walked in said. It took less than a second for Yeosang to recognise it and when he did, he immediately ducked behind the counter. The customer had clearly noticed, but he was too quick to see exactly who it was, so he paid it little mind. "Sorry to bother you, but the person you sent forgot to collect his payment..."

His voice was so calming, so sweet. It made Yeosang's heart flutter, heartbeat speeding up the longer he was in the room. Quit it, will you heart? God, you're so extra...

"Ah, is that so? I'm sorry about that. Here, thank you for coming here." Hongjoong's foot tapped against Yeosang's side, his way of silently scolding him for his poor performance.

"It's not a problem. I hope he's doing okay, he ran off pretty quickly..."

"Don't worry too much, he's fine. Have a good day sir." They said their goodbyes and Hongjoong waited until the customer was out of sight to roll his eyes. "He's gone, Sangie. You can come up now." Yeosang let out a heavy breath of relief. His hand was resting on his chest to soothe his raging heartbeat with little success. "You're hopeless. You know that?"

"I am not! I was just... caught off guard."

"Uh-huh, yeah sure. Sang, listen, you've got a crush and from the looks of it, a ridiculous one. The store is just down the street, why not give it a visit tomorrow? Maybe give him your number?" Yeosang pursed his lips, hand reaching for his sunglasses, which Hongjoong was quick to slide away. "Without the sunglasses and get up, please. You look like a drug dealer."

~~~

So Yeosang decided to give it a try. Not without its fair share of trials, of course. He was still a socially inept twink, after all. There was no way in Hell he could just walk up there and ask for his number. Despite his hyung's encouragement, he remained reluctant for most of the day, too anxious to even leave the building.

Every time he tried to step outside, he saw another person walk into the flower shop. From a tall man pulling up a fancy, white Cadillac, to someone who looked dejected beyond repair. Why are there so many people going in today? Stay home, dammit!

Like the coward he was, Yeosang waited nearly a day to go across the road, despite how vigorously Hongjoong laughed at his shyness. There was so much anticipation built up in his head. What would he say? How would he react? It was all more stressful than it needed to be.

It wasn't until his hyung alerted him of the time, "It's nearly six, what are you still doing? He's going to close soon!" did he finally spring to his seat. Yeosang has spent much of the afternoon pondering over a note should his words fail him. Shoving the paper in his pocket, he sprinted from his seat, eager to not miss his chance.

He could see the flower boy getting ready to flip the 'open' sign to 'closed' and instantly quickening his pace. He flinched back and Yeosang's eyes went wide. As quickly as he could, he reached for the younger male's waist to catch him from falling in shock when he zoomed through the door.

Those eyes... So perfect it was unreal. Now that they were up close, Yeosang really got a chance to examine his features. His round cheeks, his bright eyes. Never had he ever seen such a pretty human being. "Are you still open?" Those were the first words to leave his mouth, only to prevent any more of the undoubtedly awkward silence.

The florist went silent when he untangled himself from Yeosang's grip. The most he did was silently gesture him into the shop and despite his lack of verbal response, the brunette still smiled and walked inside.

The shop was cute which wasn't much of a surprise given how sweet the owner seemed. Even if he didn't know much about flowers, all he was sure of was that they were pretty. "Do you know what you're looking for?" The shopkeeper inquired, or rather, whispered. Yeosang pivoted in his direction, moving towards him.

For some reason, the younger looked quite shaken, at least until Yeosang smiled. "You." He spoke, much to the florist's confusion.

Blush rose to his face, not going unnoticed by the older male. "M-Me? What do you..." Yet his speech trailed off when the brunette plucked a rose off the table, eyeing it carefully. Yep. That was definitely a flower. He had no clue what he'd do with it but he couldn't just leave without buying anything, especially not after his dramatic entrance.

So he placed the flower on the counter, deciding that he would be taking it. As the shopkeeper got his receipt ready, Yeosang fished through his pockets for the note he had written. He gulped nervously as his hands began to tremble at the realisation that he was really doing this.

Covered in a slick plastic, the rose was handed back to him. "Have a good evening, sir..." However, Yeosang had yet to move. All he did was take the gift in his hand and carefully wrapped his note around the base of it then placed it back on the counter.

The strange look he received vanished when Yeosang planted a soft kiss on his forehead. "Good night, flower boy." He said once he had moved away.

Yeosang didn't stay in the store a moment later. Though he may have exited calmly, you best believe he started sprinting all the way back to the restaurant once he was out of the florist sight.

"Holy shit... Holy shit!" He panted, desperately attempting to catch his breath, even though he hadn't run all that far. Hongjoong had just finished locking the doors it seemed and grinned at the sight of his frazzled coworker.

"I take it that things went well?"

Love at first sight was a fantasy, just a trick to give us false hope. It was something that Yeosang would have agreed with wholeheartedly just a few days ago but when his phone went off with an incoming message...

Hey delivery boy ❤

Then maybe he had started to believe in that supposed fantasy after all.

#ateez #kpop fanfic #fanfic #ateez fanfic #kim hongjoong #kang yeosang #au #jongsang #ateez au #kpop

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

Text

She Plays Bass (Crygi) - Frankenvenus

Gigi Goode knew bassists were good with their hands, but her sister’s punk band’s bassist gave that thought an entire new meaning.

Read on Ao3

Expression of sibling love wasn’t really Gigi Goode’s strongest point, but she admired her sister Stevie eminently. Because of their mere one year age gap, they had grown up best friends. They’d bicker on-and-off, as most sisters did, but for the most part, they were two halves of a whole.

That was until high school happened.

Gigi remembered the exact day Stevie emerged from the bathroom with silver hair and a mullet. Her mother had to stifle a scream and her father was dead silent. Gigi thought it was the coolest thing in the world, but Stevie didn’t seem to want to talk to her about it.

“Hey Stevie, do you wanna go to the cinema with me? I got tickets to see that new Tim Burton movie with the big aliens…”

“No way. It looks shitty. I’m going to a party at Nicky’s place. If mom asks where I am, tell her I’m staying over at Jackie’s for the night.”

A door was slammed on her face and it felt like her dignity was crushed with it. Little did she know, that was only the first of many slammed doors. For the next year, she wouldn’t understand what had happened to Stevie, but then she reached high school herself and it all made sense.

Gigi was quite the outcast during middle school. Her dark brown hair was frizzy and her large braces gave her a slight lisp, but when her braces were removed and she bought herself keratin treatment over summer, she went from ugly duckling to swan. The minute she stepped into her new high school with hundreds of unfamiliar faces, she was pulled into the popular group and it stayed that way.

Now it was 1998 and she was in senior year, questioning if her friends - the popular girls - were truly her friends at all. They were insolent and loud, and Gigi was constantly riddled with guilt at her passive manner towards her friends’ behaviour. She was too afraid to defend anyone they picked on, so instead, she’d slip them a discreet compliment in the middle of the hallway - only when she knew no one else was around.

Her sister was at community college right now, though still living at home. She and Gigi didn’t talk often. Their high school experiences had been so different, it was difficult to relate to one another. Stevie mastered the art of giving no fucks, but Gigi still carried herself in an untouchable princess-like way.

One thing they could relate to was their mutual lack of interest in men. Gigi was the only person in her friend group without a boyfriend, and she didn’t see that changing anytime soon, despite the constant harassment from her friends Dahlia and Violet. She couldn’t help it - there was just something about the sweaty jocks that made her want to run in the opposite direction.

Stevie called herself a feminist and was very outspoken against sexism, much to their fathers dismay. The girl had recently formed a punk-rock band called ‘Lady Disciples’ with some girls from campus. Gigi hadn’t met most of them, but the group consisted of five girls; Stevie, Nicky, Crystal, Jaida and Widow.

The newly-formed band would usually practice in Nicky’s basement, however, for some reason, their usual location was out of bounds one day, and Stevie announced that they’d be temporarily moving their rehearsal spot to the Goode’s garage. Somehow, their relocation of rehearsal space prompted Stevie to believe that Gigi was now her personal servant. The older girl had requested that when the band arrived, Gigi was to bring them a bowl of chips and cans of beer. Of course, Gigi said yes, the main reason being that she was afraid to say no, but also, part of her wanted to meet Stevie’s friends that she had heard so little about.

The sudden crashing of drums from the room below indicated to Gigi that the band was now set up, which was when her sister had asked her to come downstairs and waitress. Stevie was the lead guitarist of the band, which is why when Gigi heard a complex drum solo, she knew that the other members had arrived.

For some reason, Gigi caught herself checking her own appearance before going downstairs. Her bangs were sitting just above her painted brows, shiny and perfect. Her wavy chestnut locks were thrown over each shoulder. She looked presentable - prepared to impress.

She skipped down the stairs and grabbed five beers from the freezer, wincing at the icy temperature against her warm skin. It felt slightly refreshing, though. The Missouri summer heatwave was getting to her, despite her wearing just a loose white button-up blouse tucked into brown corduroy trousers.

She placed the cans on the counter before reaching into a cupboard for a bowl and some hot Cheetos. She filled the bowl up so it was practically spilling over, before realising that she’d have to carry all five beers plus the overflowing bowl at one time. Somehow she succeeded, but as soon as she entered the busy garage, she dropped all the cans onto the couch.

“Sorry!” she squealed, before looking up at the five pairs of eyes staring at her.

A girl with short scarlet hair and piercing blue eyes - that was Nicky, a girl with a golden afro and a sparkling smile - Widow, a girl with beautiful black braids wrapped up in a bun who Gigi didn’t recognise, and then the final girl.

The final girl was perched on a stool, tuning what looked to be a bass guitar, but her eyes were fixated on Gigi. Her hair was a beautiful light shade of blue that reached just past her shoulders and her slightly large ears poked through the sides. Her skin was an olive tan, contrasting against her oversized red band tee which had been tucked into a sinfully tight pair of denim bell-bottoms.

Gigi must’ve stared at the girl for a little longer than she should have because the girl began smirking before shifting her focus back to her strings.

“This is my sister, some of you already know her,” Stevie said monotonously, handing a can of beer to each band member. “J, Crys; go ahead and introduce yourselves.”

The tall girl with the braids approached her with a warm smile, “I’m Jaida. Drummer. Genevive, right?”

“Gigi,” the brunette mumbled, shaking Jaida’s hand. The girl was threateningly beautiful, but not nearly as threatening as the blue-haired girl approaching her slowly, her high platform heels echoing across the garage.

That was until she flashed a smile, and everything about her softened. Her teeth were bright, her lips were a glittery red, and her eyes were a hypnotic umber. She took Gigi off guard by pulling her into a hug, nearly knocking all the air out of the frail brunette’s lungs.

“Gigi! I’ve heard so much about you, I’ve been dying to meet you,” she chuckled breathily, blessing Gigi with the softest voice she had ever heard, “My name is Crystal!”

The tanned girl pulled back and shook Gigi’s hand, and Gigi’s gaze remained fixated on her short, black-painted nails for a little too long.

“Uh, can we practice now?” Stevie asked, plugging her guitar into the amp and causing a slight screech noise to fill the room.

Much to Gigi’s surprise (despite everything surprising her because this insanely attractive girl had her breathless), Crystal turned to her sister with a pout.

“Can she watch us practice for a little bit?”

The brunette couldn’t understand why someone as cool as the girl in front of her would want to spend any time around her, but she was absolutely down for watching the band rehearse. Jaida positioned herself behind the large drum kit, Stevie and Widow grabbed their electric guitars, Crystal returned to her stool and strummed her bass, Nicky spoke ‘1, 2, 3’ into her microphone to assure it was working, and Gigi plopped herself onto the tatty garage couch, placing her hands in her lap and waiting for the performance to start.

And when Jaida began to play the intro beat to ‘You Oughtta Know’ by Alanis Morisette - Gigi’s secret favourite song - the brunette knew that the performance would blow her away.

Nicky’s voice was like silk, Widow’s electric guitar was remarkable and Jaida’s ability to maintain the rhythm with so much passion was insane, but Gigi couldn’t keep her eyes off Crystal. The way her lips would part as she riffed under Nicky’s vocals, gently rocking back and forth to the beat of the music made Gigi swoon. Her eyes would darken with concentration as she watched her own fingers move from string to string with such intricate movements.

When the chorus hit, Gigi felt euphoric. She wanted to get up and dance, but she was far too aware of her sister’s piercing gaze. She instead simply tapped her foot to the beat, but her beam was apparent. She hoped no one noticed the way her thighs were tightly pressed against one another as she watched Crystal flex her slender, tan fingers.

Then the second pre-chorus arrived. Everything was going great until Nicky sang the lines, “It was a slap in the face, how quickly I was replaced, and are you thinking of me when you fuck her,” because suddenly Crystal’s eyes were staring down at Gigi with a look that could only be described as lustful.

Boys had looked at Gigi in that way before - when she was dancing around on the football field in her skimpy cheerleader’s uniform - but this was so different. Sometimes Gigi questioned if, perhaps, she was attracted to girls, but that entire prospect was unknown territory to her.

But now she felt as if her entire mind was being read by the blue-haired girl’s hazel orbs, like she was reading her every racing thought. When the song ended, Gigi managed to get out a few compliments before quickly excusing herself to her bedroom.

Her head raced with many thoughts - none of which were any she’d like anyone to hear. She knew she looked at girls in a way that she had been told she shouldn’t, but she had never gone further than checking someone out. One time, in middle school, Stevie had a bunch of her friends round in the basement. Gigi spied on them, just like any curious middle schooler would, and saw two girls - Nicky and another girl she had never seen before - making out on the bean bag. The most prominent thought in her mind was ‘I want to do that,’ and she carried that thought with her to now, at age eighteen.

Now she was so uselessly pretending she didn’t like women. Whatever amount of discretion she had was now futile, considering she practically drooled over her sister’s bassist in front of four other people.

“God. I’m such a joke,” she muttered, staring at the chipped baby pink paint on her ceiling.

Part of her had just accepted that she’d have to live the rest of her life in the closet. She swore she was the only lesbian in Springfield - until she saw Crystal, that was. Crystal looked exactly like the ladies in the Blockbuster DVDs she secretly rented every so often. She had watched a lesbian movie called ‘Bound’ and often found her mind wandering back to the sexual scenarios in the film. She wanted someone to have their way with her whilst she lay back, whining uncontrollably, but she told herself that she’d take those dreams to her grave.

She was on the verge of horny tears when there was a knock at her door. She shot up and told whoever it was to come in, but not without a nervous voice crack. The door pushed open slowly, revealing her mom stood there with her usual warm smile.

“Hey, Genevive. Stevie was wondering if you could drive one of her bandmates home. One of the girls lives a couple of miles out of the city and she can’t drive herself home because she had a couple of beers. I’m really busy with a wedding dress so can you please do it? I’ll give you five dollars for it.”

Gigi thought for a second, before exhaling. A drive out of the city would be nice. She hadn’t been out all day, but the sun was bright and setting a golden hue across her street. She obliged and hopped off her bed, slipping her shoes into some scruffy Vans that were a hand-me-down from her sister - not unlike all her other clothes which she didn’t make herself.

She hopped downstairs, grabbing the car keys from the hallway table. She was about to turn around to go to the driveway when she clashed bodies with someone. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt her in any way, but it did cause her chest to erupt with embarrassment.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry!” Gigi gasped, before nearly dropping the keys on the floor. She saw the cerulean hair, the tan skin, and the red-painted smile.

“Apparently you’re my chauffeur!” Crystal winked, her voice filled with what sounded like excitement. For her age, she had the voice of a mid-pubescent boy, but Gigi couldn’t think of anything cuter.

“I am?” the brunette raised a brow before realising that Crystal was the girl she had been asked to drive home, ”Oh, I am! How far out of Springfield are you?”

“I’m just a little closer to the country - near the zoo.”

Gigi nodded before making her way out the front door, towards the black Subaru in the driveway. Thanks to the colour of the car, she practically burnt herself on the handle. Not wanting Crystal to make the same mistake, she quickly rushed over to the passenger side of the car and opened it for her.

“Wow. What a gentleman,” Crystal chuckled. Her laugh almost sounded like a cry, all breathy and quiet. The brunette wanted it on tape. She stepped into the car, leaving Gigi confused at how in-control she was of her body despite wearing huge platforms.

Gigi returned to her own side, hoping the older girl would see her blush and assume it was a sunburn. She slumped down in the driver’s seat and exhaled before starting up the ignition.

“Your shirt. It’s slipped,” Crystal said abruptly, cutting through the silence. She pointed at Gigi’s baggy button-up, which was falling down her shoulder slightly, displaying her baby blue laced bra.

“Oh. Shit,” the brunette’s face flushed crimson again as she felt the older girl’s eyes burn into her display of skin. She tried to suppress her inappropriate thoughts by beginning to drive. “You can put some music on if you want. There are some CDs under the dashboard.”

Crystal hummed softly and reached down in front of her, pulling out a sleeve of about eight CDs. After scanning over them with a captivating look of indecisiveness, she slipped one into the stereo. ‘The Boy is Mine’ by Brandy began playing quietly through the speakers, and Crystal began singing with the most off-tune, ear-splitting singing voice Gigi had ever heard.

“I see why you’re the bassist, huh?” Gigi joked, surprising herself with how nasty she sounded. “Sorry… I didn’t mean for it to sound like that-”

“Relax, princesa. You’re right.”

That was it. Gigi was nothing more than a puddle. Hearing Crystal speak Spanish almost made Gigi crash the car.

“So. You speak Spanish?”

“Yeah, but not much. It’s just kind of what I picked up from my mom. She’s Mexican. Do you speak Dutch? Stevie said you’re better at it than her.”

“Ja.” Gigi showed-off, earning a few beautiful giggles from the other girl, “I don’t speak much, but I’m learning. I think I wanna live with my family in the Netherlands, cause I heard they’re trying to pass a bill that will legalise gay marria-” Gigi cut herself off, wanting nothing more than to drive herself off a cliff.

She slowed the car down ever so slightly and caught a glimpse of Crystal’s lips in the rear view mirror, noticing the way they began to curl up into a smirk. Perhaps she dreamt it, but she swore she also saw the blue-haired girl swiftly drag her tongue over her lower lip.

“You like girls?” questioned the older girl, her voice an octave deeper than before.

Gigi somehow managed to squeak out a timid ‘mhm.’

Crystal smacked her lips together and shuffled around in her seat before saying, “Me too.”

If the brunette were in her room at that moment, she would’ve screamed into her cushion out of excitement, but instead, she did so internally. Her mind was racing once again.

Heart-shaped pillowy lips.

The gentle mole under her eye.

Faint freckles dusted across her nose.

Gigi had never seen someone quite like Crystal, and she found herself feeling disappointed when the latter was telling her to take a left as they had reached her neighbourhood.

The brunette pulled up onto the lane behind Crystal’s house, as the girl had requested. When the car stopped, the music automatically stopped, and the silence caused thick tension to bleed through the air.

Crystal was looking at her, and Gigi was looking at her own pale hands clasped around the wheel.

“Do you wanna come in?” the older girl asked suddenly.

“Huh?” Gigi responded stupidly fast, raising her gaze to meet the other girl and noticing how close their faces were.

“My guitar is kinda heavy. A second pair of hands might be helpful…”

If Gigi wasn’t so uselessly oblivious, she would’ve known it was just an excuse to spend more time with her. Either way, she would’ve said yes.

The two of them exited the car and made their way to the trunk, where Gigi carefully assisted Crystal whilst the latter lifted her bass and amplifier out. The brunette didn’t plan on locking the car, but quickly decided to do so when she was stepping into Crystal’s backyard - just in case she was in there for longer than anticipated.

The blue-haired girl’s home was filled with art. On every wall, there was a painting or sketch of some kind. She had multi-coloured lamps, disco lights, and fairy lights scattered around the place. The interior was straight out of a movie.

“Wow, it’s so cute in here!” Gigi gawked, her eyes overwhelmed with the number of bright colours surrounding her.

“Thanks! I cleaned it before I left this morning. Usually it’s a complete mess.”

Crystal led her into her bedroom which was just as Gigi had imagined it to be. There were multi-coloured tapestries pinned to each wall and the king-sized bed in the middle of the room had a large rainbow-crochet blanket thrown across it. The room smelt like peaches and weed - an odd mixture that somehow brought a lot of comfort to the brunette.

“That’s a pretty big bed you have there,” Gigi blurted, placing the amplifier down in the corner of the room. “You have a special someone you share it with?”

Crystal placed her guitar on its stand before turning to Gigi, folding her arms casually and shaking her head, “No. I just like a large, comfy bed for all the ladies I take home. I like to give them the best treatment I can, so they’re filled with regret when they run back to their boyfriends.”

Gigi felt faint once more, her breath hitching as Crystal slowly approached her, looking in her eyes like the cat who caught the canary. She watched as Crystal kicked off her shoes, going from 6’2 to 5’10 - something that would be comical to Gigi if she wasn’t soaking her underwear through.

“I saw the way you were looking at me, Geege,” she whispered, her face mere inches apart from the brunette’s, knocking the air out of the younger girl’s lungs simply with the use of a damn nickname. “I want you to tell me you want me.”

The taller girl felt her eyes water with desire. Crystal was so close - her lips could be on Gigi’s with a single movement.

“Please,” she managed to get out. “I’ve wanted you since I first saw you. Please.”

“Tell me how you want me,” Crystal purred.

“I want your…” Gigi blinked back tears, “I want your fingers…”

The older girl hummed, lifting her hand up to Gigi’s lips and tapping on them gently with two fingers, “Can you suck on them for me?”

Gigi nodded, parting her lips and allowing Crystal’s digits in, sucking on them gently and seductively, her eyes not leaving the older girl’s.

“So pretty, baby. Such a good girl.”

After a few seconds, Crystal withdrew her fingers before cupping the side of Gigi’s face.

“Is this okay?” she asked, her voice returning to it’s higher pitch. Gigi’s heart almost couldn’t handle it - Crystal actually wanted to take care of her. It was clear that the older girl didn’t see her as an easy fuck.

“It’s perfect,” she replied, finding herself being guided towards Crystal’s bed. She leaned back, hitting the blankets with a soft thud. Soon enough, Crystal was swinging a leg over her lips, straddling her in a swift motion.

And then she was leaning down, and their lips met. The tips of Gigi’s fingers brushed against Crystal’s jaw tenderly as they found a rhythm with one another. Gigi’s eyes fluttered closed and, at that moment, there was nothing else in the world except Crystal. The older girl’s plump lips pressed and pulled at her own, eliciting moans from the back of her throat. Gigi slipped a hand onto the nape of the tanned girl’s neck, pulling her in closer. Any notion of gentleness was gone.

Crystal pulled back, looking down at the brunette from her spot on her torso. Her hair was messy and her mouth was covered in red lipstick prints from Crystal’s own lips, but she looked absolutely ethereal.

“Is it okay if I take off your shirt?” Crystal asked sweetly, and Gigi nodded frantically.

After many quick pecks of the lips as they manoeuvred the way out of both their clothes, they were both completely naked, Gigi’s back against Crystal’s headboard with the latter sat in front of her on her knees.

“You have the most gorgeous body…” the older girl praised, tracing her fingers from down Gigi’s sternum down to her hips, watching the girl beneath her writhe with desperation.

Before Gigi could respond, Crystal’s plump lips latched on to one of her nipples, drawing her tongue over it slowly, triggering an orchestra of whines to fall from the former’s lips.

“Fuck, Crystal. I need you.”

“Where do you need me, baby girl?”

“Please,” Gigi cried out, “I want you to fuck me…”

Crystal smiled and began to trail her lips down Gigi’s body, softly and gently. No teeth were involved and she was barely rough enough to leave any marks. She held Gigi like a porcelain doll. Fragile. Delicate.

As Crystal was caressing her thighs, Gigi sat up slightly.

“Crystal I-” she began, but found herself trailing off.

“What’s wrong, hermosa?” Crystal pouted, pressing a quick kiss to Gigi’s forehead.

“I’ve never- I’m a virgin. I’ve never done this before… with anyone,” she stumbled, but was quick to react when Crystal began to pull her hands away slowly, “But I want you… so bad… like, I’ve never been more sure of anything. You’re so hot.”

The older girl blushed and she pressed her lips back onto Gigi’s torso, “Mi cielito. So cute. Let me make this extra good for you.”

Crystal’s lips kissed every bit of skin surrounding the place Gigi wanted her most. She was a tease, and her eyes were dark. The brunette couldn’t form words anymore - just pleasurable sounds.

Then Crystal’s tongue was on her clit and she almost screamed.

In her dreams, she had imagined a moment like this, but she thought she would die with that fantasy. Never would she have believed that she would get to experience it, and never did she think it would feel this good.

Crystal ate pussy like it was her job, lapping her tongue and coaxing more whines out of the girl beneath her. Gigi was leaking so profoundly, and combined with how Crystal herself was salivating, she knew the sheets would need to be thoroughly cleaned afterwards. The brunette’s back was arched and she clenched her thighs whilst Crystal swirled her tongue over her opening and began to edge the tip in.

“Fuck… Crystal…” Gigi’s hand was now in Crystal’s hair, tugging on the blue locks like they were her lifeline. She thanked the heavens that the older woman lived alone and not in an apartment, because Gigi was loud - something which she had just learned about herself that day.

Suddenly, Crystal pulled back, and Gigi moaned at the loss of contact. She needed it. She was beginning to get closer to her climax - she could feel it in the bottom of her stomach.

“Why did you- fuck,” she couldn’t finish her sentence because Crystal had pushed a finger inside of her and began to thrust at a steady pace.

“You like that, huh?” Crystal grunted, leaning over Gigi and admiring the younger girl’s large brown eyes, plump lips, high cheekbones and perfect nose, “Look at you. So beautiful. Eres la chica más bonita con la que me he acostado. Eres perfecta.”

Something about Crystal’s foreign tongue drew Gigi even closer to orgasm. She begged for Crystal to go faster, and she did exactly that. Her fingers pounded into her, shaking her whole slender frame with the intensity of Crystal’s digits. Gigi feels like butter in the older girl’s hands.

“Crystal I- I’m gonna- I’m about to-” she choked out.

“Cum for me, mi niña.”

The brunette’s jaw went slack and her lips parted, a whine leaving her as Crystal pressed their lips together again. Crystal’s fingers flexed inside her, and she moaned, swearing she was able to see stars behind her eyelids as pleasure surged all over her body - like blissful electrocution. Her hips buckled below the tanned girl, and Crystal fucked her through her orgasm until she couldn’t take anymore.

“Holy fuck,” Gigi whispered, her eyes still shut as she collapsed down on Crystal’s bed.

Crystal swung her leg off her torso and lay down beside her, “Was that a satisfactory first time?”

“Mhm. Better than I ever could’ve imagined.”

The older girl hummed a response, and they both lay there, completely naked.

“I feel like an absolute state,” Gigi blushed, turning her head to look at Crystal with a soft smile.

“You wanna eat me out in the shower?” Crystal asked nonchalantly.

“Yes.”

TRANSLATIONS

princesa - princess hermosa - beautiful mi cielito - my sky eres la chica más bonita con la que me he acostado. eres perfecta. - you are the prettiest girl i’ve ever laid with (fucked.) you’re perfect. mi niña - my girl

#rpdr fanfiction #crygi #crystal methyd #gigi goode #smut #frankenvenus #concrit welcome

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idiot-extraordinaire · 4 years ago

Text

Date Night, Interrupted

Summary: Brittany and Santana just want a quiet date night at home. Their evenings has other plans.

Part of the Pancakes and Mr Snuggles 'verse.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26035702 https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13677597/1/Date-Night-Interrupted

There are certain things that are just facts of life.

Fact. The earth revolves around the sun.

Fact. A euler brick is a cuboid.

Fact. Friday night is date night.

Both kids are asleep by 8:30 pm. The TV is playing as two glasses of wine sit on the coffee table as “The Proposal” plays on their TV. Brittany’s head rests on Santana’s lap as Sandra Bullock huffs and gets down on one knee in the middle of the street to propose to Ryan Reynolds. Santana rubs circles in Brittany’s back and the blonde hums contentedly.

The blonde pushes her herself up, lifting her head off of Santana’s lap. Santana’s wearing her glasses and Brittany thinks she looks that special combination of super adorable and sexy as hell.

“What?” Santana asks, noticing a glint in her wife’s eye.

“Do you wanna make out?”

She asks it as casually as one would ask someone if they wanted pizza for dinner.

Santana chuckles. “Totally.”

Santana removes her glasses and places them on the coffee table to avoid them getting crushed and pulls Brittany down for a kiss. Brittany’s far too eager to return it and her hands move down south to cop a feel of Santana’s ass through her shorts as the brunette grasps the back of Brittany’s neck to deepen the kiss.

Sometimes it feels like they’re still a couple of horny teenagers.

They’re like that for a while. They remain on the couch, trading kisses as hands and lips roam slowly, like they have all the time in the world.

A phone rings.

Santana whines against the crook of Brittany’s neck in annoyance.

“Is that yours or mine?”

Brittany cranes her neck over to look at the coffee table.

“Mine,” she reaches for the device to see who is interrupting her sweet sweet lady kisses. “It’s Quinn.”

“Call her back, tomorrow.”

Brittany hits the decline button, tosses her phone back on to the table. It made a sound that she’d be more concerned with if she didn’t have more pressing matters to attend to at the moment.

Speaking of which, Santana’s lips are currently pressed against her neck. Brittany’s fingers graze against her bare hipbone, causing Santana to gasp when she hears another ring.

The pair look over and it’s Santana’s phone this time. Brittany leans over again and retrieves the phone.

“It’s Quinn, again.”

Santana huffs in frustration.

“You should pick it up. It might be urgent if she called us both.”

Santana takes the phone from Brittany and accepts the call, as Brittany starts manoeuvring off her wife and back onto the couch.

“What do you want, Fabray?”

“Good evening to you too, Santana,” she hears Quinn greet on the other line.

“Why are you bothering me and Britts on date night?” she cuts straight to the point.

“Look, sorry if I’m interrupting your sexual escapades-’

“You are.”

“But I’ve turned the house upside down trying to find Lucas’ dinosaur. He can’t sleep without it.”

“And?”

“I can’t find it anywhere, but I think he brought it to your place when the kids had their playdate today. Can you check if he left it there? It’s a little red t-rex.”

Santana sighed and relented. She empathized with Quinn and she did love Lucas. She also knew Mike was out of town on business till tomorrow, so the little boy probably really did need his dinosaur.

“I’ll check. If it’s here, one of us will come by and drop it off.”

“Thanks, S. Call me if you find it.”

Santana ended the call and looked back up at Brittany.

“How is it that we’ve been out of high school forever and Quinn is still cock-blocking me?”

------------------

The kids had been playing in Sophia’s room earlier in the day, so Santana tip-toes in, making sure not to wake her daughter and trying not to stub her toe on anything.

The star-shaped night light gave her enough vision to look for the lost dinosaur. Most of the toys were in a little toy chest next to the six and a half foot tall, Mr Snuggles. Santana didn’t have to rummage far to find the little red dinosaur, mixed in amongst the other playthings.

Lucas must have left it there during their playdate this afternoon.

Having finished her mission, Santana proceeded to head back out, before noticing Snoopy on the floor next to the bed. She picked up the lost white dog and carefully tucked it in next to Sophia, who was hugging her unicorn, her dolphin also within arms reach.

“Sleep tight, baby girl,” she whispered, placing a light kiss on the little girl’s head.

-------------------------

Santana texted Quinn a quick update, advising her friend that she’d found the lost dinosaur and Brittany was headed over to drop it off now.

“Tell her this totally makes us even for the lost binky incident,” Santana said.

Brittany chuckled as she patted down her pockets to make sure she had the car keys, when Santana tossed her a sweatshirt.

“It’s chilly outside.”

Brittany unwrapped the balled up item of clothing to find it was Santana’s NYU sweatshirt. Really, it was only fair at this point, given that Santana had stolen her MIT sweatshirt back when they were on tour with Mercedes and basically claimed it as hers ever since.

“I won’t be long.”

Santana gave her a quick peck on the lips. “I’ll be waiting.”

------------------------

Santana takes the time Brittany’s gone to wash up the glasses and tidy the living room. There’s not much, so she finds herself back in front of the TV when she hears footsteps.

“Mama.”

She finds her son, rubbing his eyes, having wandered out into the living room in his PJs.

“Ollie, baby, it’s past your bedtime,” she approaches him and crouches down to meet him at eye-level. “Are you ok?”

“I woke up,” he says. “Can’t go back to sleep.”

“Aww, sweetheart,” she stands up and gestures back to the hallway. “Come on, I’ll tuck you back in.”

The two of them return to his bedroom, the moon-shaped night light still on over the side of his bed. Santana lifts the covers and helps him get back into bed, where he hugs the little yellow duck he’s had since he was a baby. It takes her a moment, she can barely believe he’s six years old already.

“Comfy?” she asks, as she finishes tucking him in, fluffing the pillow and placing a kiss on his forehead.

He nods. “Mama?”

“Yes, Ollie?”

“Can you read me a story?”

“Sure,” she smiles. “Which one do you want?”

He thinks for a moment. “Cat in the Hat.”

Santana moves over to his bookshelf. It doesn’t take her long to find the book in question, sitting amongst his little collection of Dr Seuss books. They’re his favorite, he likes the rhyming. She then makes herself comfortable on the bed, with only the nightlight and the light coming in from the hallway to let her see. Ollie rolls onto his side, so he can face his mother while she reads to him.

Santana turns the first page.

“The sun did not shine. It was too wet to play. So we sat in the house all that cold, cold wet day. I sat there with Sally. We sat there, we two. And I said, ‘how I wish we had something to do!’”

------------------------

Quinn and Mike only lived a fifteen minute drive away, so Brittany managed to get there with no problems (ok she may have grazed the neighbour’s mailbox, but that was nothing).

She rang the doorbell to be greeted by a slightly frazzled looking Quinn.

“Looking for someone?” she asked, holding up the dinosaur.

“Oh thank God, I could kiss you,” Quinn said, letting out a huge sigh of relief, taking the toy from her.

“No thanks, Santana’s waiting for me to get home.”

Quinn rolled her eyes. “Well, thanks anyway. He couldn’t sleep without it.”

Brittany looks down, to find a small boy with dark hair and hazel-green eyes materialize next to Quinn.

"Hey, buddy," she grins at him.

“Look who Aunt Brittany found,” Quinn turns to him, holding out the little red dinosaur.

“Rexy!” he grins and hugs the dinosaur tight. He then turns to the woman standing outside the doorway, still clutching his dinosaur, tightly. “Thank you, Aunt Britt.”

Brittany can’t help smile - even if it did interrupt her date night - and affectionately ruffles his hair. “You’re welcome, Lucas. Make sure you don’t forget Rexy next time, okay? Mr Snuggles might decide he wants to adopt him.”

Lucas giggles a little and nods. “Promise.”

“Alright, sweetie, we need to get you back in bed,” Quinn turns to her son. “Say good night, I’ll be in to tuck you in in a minute.”

“Good night, Aunt Britt.”

“Good night, Lucas,” she says, before he wanders off to bed.

“Thanks for bringing it back,” Quinn says standing back up. “ He cried earlier when we couldn’t find Rexy. I think he’s really been missing Mike the last few days.”

“I guess he’s not the only one,” she remarked at her friend’s tone.

Quinn sighed. “Yeah, you could say so.”

“He’ll be home tomorrow, Q. Besides, we try to alternate so the next trip is going to be me.”

“Does that mean I should expect frantic calls from Santana to interrupt my evenings, then?”

Brittany chuckles. “Don’t be surprised. Anyway, she told me to tell you that this officially makes us even for the lost binky incident.”

“Fine, we’ll call it even,” Quinn rolls her eyes, with a laugh. “I’d ask if you wanted to come sit for a while, but I know who’s waiting for you at home.”

“Good call,” Brittany winks, heading back to her car.

------------------------

When Brittany got home, she expected to find Santana waiting for her in bed or perhaps in the living room with another glass of wine.

Instead, she finds both rooms empty, but is guided when she sees the door to Ollie’s room is ajar and peaks in to have a look.

Santana’s sleeping in Ollie’s bed. She’s still in a semi-seated position, with her back against the headboard, still wearing her glasses, Cat in the Hat half open on her lap, but her eyes are closed. One of her arms is wrapped around Ollie, who is fast asleep, clutching his ducky.

The sight of it makes Brittany’s heart melt. It reminds her of the times she’d come home and find Santana asleep with a baby resting on her chest when their kids were infants.

She tiptoes into the room and gently wakes Santana with a kiss on the cheek and a gentle shake.

“Santana, babe,” she whispers.

“Hmmm?” Santana stirs, blinking the sleep out of her eyes and taking in her surroundings and her wife. “You’re back.”

“I am.”

“I must’ve dozed off reading to him.”

“You’re adorable.”

“Adorable wasn’t really what I was going for on date night.”

Brittany wiggles her eyebrows. “Well, you wanna continue what you were going for? Night’s still young.”

Santana grins as she carefully gets out of bed, making sure Ollie doesn’t wake up and placing the book on top of his shelf. She then takes Brittany’s hand as they make their way to their own bedroom.

“Definitely.”

------------------------

Santana’s running her hand under Brittany’s shirt, her fingers grazing past her ribcage, as Brittany leaves kisses on the underside of Santana’s jawline.

“Mmmm, baby,” Brittany lets out a hushed moan, when they both hear a crashing sound from outside and both look up in alarm.

When they hear an echoey meow, Santana is significantly less alarmed and more annoyed, when Brittany sits up and the brunette is forced to move off her wife so that she can get out of bed to investigate.

Santana flops back onto the bed, clearly displeased and stares at the ceiling.

“I hate that cat.”

------------------------

Brittany examines her surroundings and enters the kitchen to find a certain fat cat’s large behind poking out from the kitchen trash can and helps lift him out.

“There’s no tuna in there Tubbs, you should be careful,” she tells the cat, examining him to make sure he’s not been hurt. “You can’t just go sticking your nose into everything. It's dangerous. Besides, it’s date night. Your moms need their lady kisses.”

Tubbs, unharmed, pays little attention to this and waddles off, swishing his tail, while Brittany puts the few pieces of trash that came out during Tubbs’ exploration back in the bin. As she washes her hands in the kitchen sink, she hears a voice sniff.

“Mommy?”

Brittany looks down and finds her three year old daughter, clutching her unicorn and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Soph, what’s wrong, sweetie?” Brittany asks, quickly scooping up the little girl into her arms.

“I had a bad dream,” she whispers into her mom’s ear, not letting go of the unicorn as she wraps her arms around her mother’s neck.

“Oh, sweetie,” Brittany pulls her closer and rubs her back. “It’s ok.”

“Can I sleep with you?”

“Of course, baby girl,” she says, wiping a few tears tracks on her daughter’s face, with her thumb.

Brittany gives Sophia a cup of water to drink before they go to bed. The little girl giggles a little because it’s from her favorite cup, the one with a unicorn holding a soccer ball.

“Someone had a bad dream,” Brittany informs Santana, Sophia still in her arms as they enter through the doorway to the master bedroom.

“Oh no,” Santana pulls back to covers. “Come ‘ere, Princess,” she reaches out her arms as Brittany puts their daughter down on their bed and Sophia scrambles up into the bed to give her mama a hug.

“Do you remember what it was about?” Santana asks, as Brittany climbs back onto her side of the bed.

“No,” Sophia shakes her head and sniffs. “But it was scary.”

“It’s ok, baby girl. You’re safe here,” Brittany kisses Sophia’s cheek, as Santana pulls up the covers so that she’s nestled between her moms.

“All good?”

Sophia nods.

“Try to get some sleep," Santana rubs her back. " Mommy and I are right here.”

They both watch over Sophia as the little girl closes her eyes and seems to have little trouble falling back asleep.

Santana and Brittany share small smiles, though both knowing that date night is definitely over.

“Mike and Quinn are totally babysitting next Friday,” Brittany whispers.

#brittana #brittana fanfic #santana lopez #brittany pierce

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fanf1cshawn · 5 years ago

Text

señorita

plot: y/n goes to the shoot and gets a bit jealous... but also hot and bothered.

————————————————

warnings: sexual connotations ———————————————— as you were peacefully getting ready for a meeting inside the bathroom, your tall brunette of a boyfriend suddenly walks into the room.

"hey bub?" shawn asks, snaking his arms around your waist. he nuzzles his his face in the crook of your neck, making you giggle. you place your hands on top of his, as you rest the back of your head on his chest.

"yes, love? what's up?" he turns you around and places you on top of the counter. you gasp, his strength never failing to shock you. a playful smile was painted on his face and you knew something up.

"sooooo..." he says, building up tension. "andrew sent me a text today saying that the shooting for my new video will start on thursday."

"that's great, love! good for you." you smiled back, cupping his cheek. he leaned into your hand and sighed. what is this all about?

"andddd i kinda want you to come with me...?" he chuckled lowly, looking down at the floor. you lifted his chin up and tilted your head.

"why bub, what's wrong? sure i'll come with you!" you laughed, trying to create a comfortable atmosphere in the air.

"no babe i get that you'd come with me, i kinda already knew that but uh, it's just that..." he pauses.

"ok?" you knitted your eyebrows together, waiting for a response. you were confused to why he was acting so nervous, since he usually doesn't get this anxious when doing video shoots.

"i'll be doing the shoot with camila, if that's alright with you." he finally admits with an awkward cough, looking at you with his hazel eyes full of sincerity.

"of course that's fine with me, i've known camila for quite a long time now... we're good friends, i guess." you said, the last part barely even a whisper. it was no lie that you felt kinda weird whenever she was around with shawn, knowing that they were already good friends, best friends even before you and shawn became a thing. she might know more about shawn than you do, but - whatever. you let the thought slip your mind, shaking your head.

"what song is this by the way? is she gonna act or is she a part of the song as well?" you asked in a curious tone, trying to stir away from the subject.

"oh it's a collab, yeah. the one that we've been working on for a few months now." he answers, putting the piece of your hair that just fell right behind your ear.

"oh the one that you talked about in la? when you met up, yeah?"

"yep, that's right." he smiles, now putting you down the counter.

"when i get home, can i listen to the song? only if it's ok with you, i get it of you don't wa-"

"yes you can my love, yes you can." ———————————————— it was now thursday morning, the start of the music video shoot. the first scenes were shot inside a small diner, and it wasn't too bad. they shot some of the promo photos and a few scenes, and you couldn't deny how good your boyfriend looked in all of them. the director was someone who hasn't shot any of shawn's previous videos before, meaning the video would be quite different from the usual. although different isn't always bad, it also isn't always good.

to be fair, the song itself was different from anything that shawn has ever released if you were to be honest. as soon as you got home from your meeting the same day he told you about the shoot, you listened to the song and the first thought that came into your mind was 'oh boy, he's going to break the internet again.'

the lyrics, the beat, the vibe, everything was different. but the lyrics, oh the lyrics, were for sure going to be one of the most shocking that his fans will ever hear, or you have ever heard. it felt too real, but you didn't think of it too much. if shawn says they've never been through anything before, they haven't, and that's all that matters. it's not that you were mad if they did, but as long as he's telling the truth.

it was the afternoon and the next location was a motel. you were quite surprised, but you proceeded to come with the team. it's not like you had any choice to leave anyways. you were at the back of the van seated next to shawn, camila on his other side.

you kept quiet the whole ride, with shawn checking up on you every now and then, his hand squeezing your thigh as his sign. you kept nodding, looking out the road. as the two musicians discussed their guesses on how their fans would react (although you were sure everyone would have their jaws on the floor as they listened), you couldn't stop thinking about what the motel scenes would be like. you sighed and leaned back on your seat, not knowing what was about to come. ———————————————— fuck, was your first thought after seeing your boyfriend change into a white tank top, arms all out for the hundreds, no, millions of girls to see. it was distracting you, oh was it distracting you, but you tried your best to contain feelings and thoughts that you shouldn't have while your boyfriend was having his music video shoot.

the room was set up to be a bit messy, clothes all over the floor and sheets all over the bed, so it was clear to you what scene they would be doing without the two of them even starting to act yet.

it was a scene that you've witnessed and been a part inside his toronto apartment, childhood bedroom, heck, almost every single hotel that you've stayed at on tour even. a scene that was for the two of you only, only for you to see. but it wasn't you who was in the video, was it?

camila came out in a white tank top, a cardigan over it, the other sleeve off of her shoulder. she sat against the closet in the room as shawn was sitting on the bed, right across her.

the first shot was about to start and suddenly, you started getting nervous. your heart was beating out of your chest for some reason. a part of you wanted to get out of the room and wait inside the van but you were glued onto your seat, unable to move.

as the director talked to the both of them before he started rolling, you braced yourself and in a matter of seconds, the track was playing. as camila lip synced to the track, she started walking over to shawn, and all of a sudden, shawn started taking his top off. you gulped, eyes getting dark at the sight. heat rushed over your body as he stood up, eyes looking down at camila, whose arms were wrapped around his neck.

as they stared at each other for a brief moment, shawn spins her around and lays her down on the bed, hovering over her. i wish he was the one on top of me right now. you took a deep breath as they slowly leaned into each other's face, lips just centimeters apart.

"cut!" the director shouts, a smile on his face. shawn got off camila quickly, as she slightly pushed him away. they laughed, muttering out 'that was disgusting!' or 'oh my god, how did we do that?!".

"ok guys, come watch it over here!" the director calls them over to the viewfinder and shawn pulled you with him to watch it. his sweaty arms wrapped around your body, as he placed a kiss on your cheek.

"so how was it? was it good, bub?" he asks cheerfully, not noticing how turned on you were. you coughed awkwardly and chuckled, giving him a pat on the back.

"it was good, hot, to be precise." you said, sending him a small smile. he laughed and the crew gathered around the small screen, watching what was just filmed.

"ok... so let's do the scene where shawn puts camila on the bed again! it looked kinda awkward to me." the director instructs, as they agreed and got back to their places, shawn slipping his top back on. you walked back to your seat to go through the torture you just went through again, your boyfriend as clueless as ever. ———————————————— they did the same scene again for a few times, perfecting minor mistakes. shawn being the perfectionist that he is, he wanted everything to be in place, to be right. but having his girlfriend basically beg for him silently without him knowing, god was it so wrong. all you wanted was his touch everywhere, and boy did you want it now. but you couldn't have him for yourself now, you had to wait. and waiting was painful.

every minute that passed felt like hours, and you cra-

"cut! that's it!" the director shouts, snapping you out of your thoughts. everyone sighs in relief and the crew starts fixing the equipment. you hand over a towel to shawn and he wipes his sweat off with it. andrew gives him a bottle of water and he drinks all of it instantly. he sits next to the director, watching the piece of film that was chosen for the video. he nodded, pleased by the product. he slipped on a shirt that tiff brought him and he walked over to you, leaning against you. he took a deep breath as you feel him smile against the crook of your neck.

"you look tired." you whispered, so only he could hear. he chuckled lowly and looked at you.

"i kinda am, but there's one last thing left to film. gotta push through it you know?" he smiles and you smile back, not knowing what to say.

"how about you, are you tired? sorry if i haven't been talking to you all day, and i was the one who dragged you all the way here." he apologizes sincerely.

"no, it's ok bub. i understand, everything's good." you replied, but not in your usual tone. and with that, shawn knew what was up. a lightbulb in his brain suddenly lit up and he had a plan. no wonder she's been quiet all day, the brunette finally realizes.

the team told everyone that you'd be leaving for the next location and shawn smirked to himself.

the last scene awaits. ———————————————— you arrived at the last place and shawn and camila have already changed. they practiced a the choreo in the dressing room as they finished changing, and you didn't watch it. you wanted to be surprised.

the last camera was set up and they get into their positions. take after take, and they were almost there. something was missing, and no one knew what it was. it was getting pretty late, but they had to get the perfect shot, so you just waited.

you felt a pair of eyes on you and to your surprise, it was shawn. he smirked and you furrow your brows, not sure of what he meant. the setting of the room made him look more attractive than he already was, the red lighting complementing him perfectly. he smiled again and paid attention to the director.

"ok guys, this is our last shoot! i want the two of you to give it your all. and shawn, don't be afraid to get too touchy! get in the act! let's do it!" the director screams and the music starts playing.

they start the choreography and camila rests her back on his body, as shawn lightly grazed his fingers over her sides. he felt your eyes watch his every move and he continued to do what he did, knowing what effect it had on you. to him, your gaze felt like fire on his skin, and now, he craved for you too.

he carries her and pushes her up against the wall, the two of them being extremely close. you watched very closely, their lips almost grazing over each other's. and just right before their lips touched, the director shouts 'cut'. while everyone was applauding each other for their hard work, you sighed in relief and went over to shawn. you planted a kiss right on his jaw and he could've sworn he would've melted then and there. it was now a game of turning each other on, and oh did shawn know how much you were losing.

"congrats, love. it's going to be a hit." you send him a small smile, earning a smile back. he put his hand on your waist and whispered into your ear.

"thanks, babe. can't wait 'til we get back home." ———————————————— you were silent and cold all the way back to the apartment. but shawn? oh was he excited. he let his hand brush over your thighs every now and then, teasing you. you would groan but not too loudly, only for him to hear. he loved it, every single bit of it.

you finally reach the apartment and you sprinted to the room, shawn following behind you. as soon as you got on the floor of the apartment, you fumbled with the keys because of how frustrated you were, and shawn just laughed at you. you swinged the door right open and shawn just slammed it shut.

"what's wrong with you?" he asks calmly, taking off his ysl boots at the door, eyeing you carefully as he waits for your response.

"nothing's wrong with me." you lied. you kicked off your shoes and rushed into the bedroom.

"oh really?" he asks again, following you to the bedroom. he leans against the doorframe, watching you comb the tangles in your hair.

"yes, shawn. i'm alright." you lied again. he started walking towards you and you could see his body frame behind you in the mirror, making you put down the comb on your vanity. you stood up and turned around, looking up at him. dark eyes were looking back at yours and somehow he picked you up and carried you all the way to the bed. a soft thud was made when you landed on the bed, and before you was the shawn who only you saw. the shawn that no one else knows about.

he slipped of his shirt and hovered right above you, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck. you cup his face in your hands, finally kissing him the way you wanted to since this morning.

"you were jealous, weren't you?" he asks, looking at you.

"i got a bit jealous, sure i'll admit that, but it's not that that's been bothering me all day you know?" you sighed, confessing your thoughts.

"then what is it?"

"it's just... i didn't know you'd be basically fuck camila out of that video, i wish you just told me that beforehand. and also, i always thought that... that side of you would be kept between us, you and me."

he felt his heart sink at your words and he kissed you ever so sincerely.

"i'm so sorry babe... i wish i told you sooner."

"it's ok babe, it's ok." you run your fingers through his curls and smiles.

"how about..." he whispers in your ear in a tone that sends shivers down your spine.

"hmm?"

"i make it up to you, my señorita?"

#shawn mendes #senorita #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes blurbs #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes one shots #señorita

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hellomorganus · 4 years ago

Text

Helen Draiz

I do not own The Phantom of the Opera. The book/musical/movies belong to their rightful owners. I only own my characters.

CHAPTER 4

Helen really had no idea how she didn’t die right then and there, glaring up at The Phantom. The policeman, Nadir, stood anxiously to the side, ready to stop any fighting that might occur. The Phantom was examining the girl that had so bravely taunted him. It was like she had a death wish.

“Tell me.” she said, her hands shaking. The Phantom smirked at her shaking hands. She was hiding her fear very well on her face but the rest of her body was giving her away.

“She ran,” he hissed, taking a step closer to intimidate her. She stood her ground despite her quivering becoming more visible. “She ran, I caught her. Simple as that.”

Helen gulped, her mouth going dry as he took another step closer. “Like cat and mouse?” she said, her lips pursed. “Why’d she run?”

Nadir watched his friend closely, hesitantly taking a step closer. Helen turned her head to face him, holding her hand out to him, telling him to stop.

The Phantom now stood in front of her. “I really don’t see how that is any of your goddamn business.” he hissed, towering over her.

Helen glared up at him, crossing her arms. “Sir, men should never lay a hand on a lady. For any reason. When we want to be touched, we’ll let you know. She clearly did not want to be touched. That’s why she ran.” she stated.

The Phantom’s eyes widened just slightly at what she was accusing him of. His hand went around her throat, squeezing tightly. “Are you accusing me of raping her?”

Nadir ran to help the brunette, gently placing his hands on his friend’s arm, urging him to let go. Helen, despite having difficulty breathing, answered in short breaths.

“If you...didn’t...why did...she run?” she croaked, nearly falling over when his hand left her throat.

Nadir caught her, glaring at his friend as he examined her. “You mustn't say those things Mademoiselle.” he warned her, feeling her neck for anything wrong.

The Phantom stared the girl down, his hands clenching by his sides. “Daroga. Get her out of here before I actually kill her.”

Nadir nodded, wrapping his arms around her as he began to lead her to the hall outside of the box.

“No!” she gasped, pulling herself away from him. She spun to face The Phantom who’s shoulders were shaking. “I’m sorry I accused you of rape.” she said, slowly walking back in front of him. When she looked up to him she saw a mask in the glimmer of the ghost light. He stepped back into the shadows, his hazel eyes glossy with tears. “It was horrible of me. But how could I not think that is what happened? She saw the bruises you gave me and knew I had met you. She stared out of the window with a longing look. Like she wanted to escape.”

The Phantom shook his head, jumping a bit when Nadir placed a hand on his shoulder. “That does not mean I raped her.” he said.

Helen nodded, looking down at the floor. “I know...from experience what that look is like. To look at the marks and want to escape…” she admitted, rubbing her wrist anxiously. “And when you said she ran...I just assumed. Forgive me.”

Nadir looked her up and down a frown forming on his lips. He sighed, looking between them as he waited for The Phantom to speak. When he did not, he bit his lip. “Erik...say something for Heaven’s sake.”

The Phantom, Erik, looked at Nadir when he said his name so openly in front of a trespasser. He looked towards Helen, his shoulders slumping slightly. “You did not need to tell us that.”

Helen shrugged, giving them both a small smile. “It was forever ago.” she said sadly, walking over to Erik and holding out her hand. “My name is Helen Draiz, Monsieur Erik.” she said. “I hope you can forgive me.”

~-~-~

The next day Helen had been requested by Christine Daae instead of doing her work. The brunette complied, now walking towards her bedroom. As she walked, the hairs on her neck stood up tall, sensing eyes on her. She hesitantly looked over her shoulder to examine her surroundings only to find no one watching her. She bit her lip, speeding her pace as she tried to escape the watchful gaze as quickly as possible.

Knocking on Christine’s door, she waited anxiously for a reply as the staring continued. The blonde woman answered the door, pulling her in and shutting the door quickly, locking it.

She then spun to face Helen, her eyes wide. “What did you do?” she hissed, pacing her room.

“What?” Helen frowned, crossing her arms.

Christine gulped, freezing in her place, anxiously watching a corner that was shrouded in shadows. “He visited me this morning. Begging for forgiveness. What did you do?”

Helen frowned, slumping her shoulders at the thought of The Phantom begging for forgiveness. Her comment must have really upset him. “I...accused him of something I shouldn’t have. I apologized almost immediately after but...it must have stuck with him.”

Christine nodded, hesitantly taking a seat after examining the shadows more closely. She wrapped her arms around herself, anxiously biting at her lip.

Helen watched her carefully before going over to the bedside table and examining the new bowl of berries. She had eaten nearly half. She sighed, tracing her fingers along her neck. “Christine...you should go off to rehearsal.” she told her softly.

The blonde lifted her head towards Helen, frowning. “I’m the page boy. I have no lines,” she said softly, slowly peeling her arms away from herself.

Helen sighed, nodding slightly. “How about we walk around the city then? We can talk some more about our...predicament with our friend.”

Christine scoffed lightly at the last word Helen used before nodding. “I would like that.” she replied.

Helen grinned, nodding. “Then let’s get you ready, shall we?” she replied, going over to the blonde’s closet to pull out a dress for the girl. Christine settled on a light blue dress that complemented her blonde curls and soft features. After the corset was tightened, Helen helped Christine slip the dress on.

Christine chose to wear a pair of her white laced boots and finished the look with a white hat. She gave the maid a sheepish smile before examining her uniform. “Would you like to borrow something?” she offered.

Helen blushed, gazing down at her simple attire compared to Christine’s. A white blouse with a black skirt was what she wore, her apron thrown on top. She hesitantly shook her head, peeling the apron off. “Thank you but I wouldn’t want to ruin any of your dresses.”

The blonde woman nodded and followed Helen out of her room to explore the streets of Paris. They traveled down the stone paved road, chatting amongst themselves over several topics. Christine told Helen of her lover Raoul, who was the patron of the opera house, and how they had been childhood sweethearts. Helen told the girl of her situation with Henry and how they had traveled from America in hopes of adventure. It was originally just going to be her, but Henry insisted that he come along.

When they stopped at a cafe for some tea, their talking started getting less lighthearted and more serious. Christine had explained what had happened to her for that week she went missing. She and Helen had shared their experiences with The Phantom, soon learning that they both knew his real name. Erik had fallen in love with Christine as he taught her how to sing like an angel. He had tricked her into believing he was the angel of music and a friend of her deceased father’s. Christine had taken off his mask and he in turn lost his temper. According to Christine he shouted curses at her, chasing her around his home before grabbing her wrist. Then he fell down to his knees and started sobbing, hiding his face in her skirts.

Helen tried to imagine The Phantom breaking down in tears in front of her. Tried to picture the face Christine tried explaining but gave up after she said, “corpse-like,”. The brunette girl nodded understandingly as they shared their hushed stories.

When the clock rang at 4:00 they decided to head back to their home. Helen walked Christine back to her room, insisting she eat and drink more. If she was to surpass Carlotta then the new prima donna would have to be healthy enough to outshine her.

~-~-~

Helen sat anxiously in box five later that night, writing down in her journal. She sighed as she looked around the dark box, expecting him to be here like he has the few other times. She waited impatiently for him for 45 minutes before giving up. She stood from her seat and grabbed her things before leaving the dark box.

She walked across the stage silently, freezing when she heard a few laughs from where she was heading. She narrowed her eyes at the area, trying to decipher who it may have been. Not to her surprise, she saw it was two stage hands, drinking away happily.

She rolled her eyes and was about to continue walking when she heard a whisper come from her right. “Not that way Mademoiselle.” urged the man’s voice.

Helen turned her head towards the darkness. She gulped as she felt someone's eyes on her, watching her from the shadows. “Monsieur Phantom?” she asked quietly, walking towards the voice. “Is that you?”

“Yes Mademoiselle Helen. You mustn’t go near them. They’ve been drinking since noon. No doubt they’d take advantage of a lonesome girl.” he replied, holding out a hand for her to grab in the small amount of light.

Helen hummed, taking his hand. “Thank you,” she replied, linking arms with him.

The Phantom nodded, pulling her into the shadows. “Let’s find you a different way to your room.” he said quietly, eyeing the two men drinking.

Helen followed Erik closely, gnawing on her lip. She couldn’t imagine having to go through something like that again. For them to hear yes when she said no. She closed her eyes as she tried to force the memories from her mind, unconsciously gripping onto his arm.

Erik felt her grip tighten on him and gently placed his other hand on top of hers. “You’re safe Mademoiselle. I won’t let that happen to you again.”

Helen let out a shaky breath, nodding. “Thank you again…” she whispered, opening her eyes. She walked beside him in silence as he led her down a hall, stopping in front of a wall. He placed his hands on it, searching for something. When he finally found it, he took a hold of it and pulled, revealing a secret passageway in the wall.

He led her down the passageway silently. The only sound was their breathing and their footsteps.

Helen bit her lip and looked up at the masked man, trying to imagine what Christine had told her. She lowered her gaze to their shoes, suddenly feeling very guilty. She had accused him of rape. She had seen the tears in his eyes.

“Monsieur Erik…” she whispered, tossing her dark hair over onto her shoulder as she stopped walking. “I just wanted to apologize for last night again...is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

The Phantom watched her as she shifted from foot to foot, fiddling with her hair. He bit his lip, straightening his posture. “I’ve forgiven you Mademoiselle. You don’t need to do anything.”

Helen wasn’t satisfied, taking a few steps closer to him. “Please. Let me do something for you.”

Erik took a step back at their closeness. “There is nothing I want.” he replied sternly, crossing his arms.

Helen pursed her lips before sighing. “Not even a cup of tea?”

The brunette knew she was being persistent. She knew if she went back to her room she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep for hours. “Please. I just want to talk for a bit longer.”

Erik sighed before hesitantly nodding. “Fine. Come along now.” he said, offering her his hand.

#PhantomoftheOpera #Phantom #Erik Destler #OC #ChristineDaae #Christine #thephantomoftheopera #thephantomoftheopera fanfiction #Opera

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adrenaline-roulette · 5 years ago

Text

It’s strange but it’s true

Okay, so this was my first Brian x Reader fic, and my overall first ever Queen fic too! It was written over Christmas of 2018, and since then, I’ve fallen down one hell of a Queen rabbit hole!

Word count: 3k +

One week ago

This had all been Roger’s idea, you had made a passing comment to him in the recording studio a couple of weeks ago, mentioning how you and Brian hadn’t had much of a chance to spend any time together, at least not longer than five minutes alone. He would come home from the studio in the early hours of the morning, waking you up as he crawled into bed beside you. In the mornings, you would be up before him and out to work just as he was waking up. It almost felt more like having a roommate, over a boyfriend!

“Don’t worry love, he’ll be free again soon. We’ve got it planned so we have a break between recording, and then touring again! But if you want, why don’t you drop by next week while we’re filming the video for I want to break free?” He suggested, a mischievous glint in his baby blues, though you decided it best not to dwell on the look.

“That sounds amazing! Brian won’t tell me anything much about the video, top secret he says. The mystery is killing me!” You muse, which only causes Roger to smirk.

“Don’t you worry Y/N, you’ll love it! You know how Brian gets when we’re recording, it’s all about the music.”

*****

You could hardly contain your excitement as you walked through the parking lot leading towards Limehouse studios. You had managed to secure a car spot a fair distance away from the actual studio, though the warm spring day made for a pleasant walk towards the large building. The grin that was plastered on your face remained as you flashed your guest pass to the security guard at the entrance, who smiled and nodded you in the direction of the reception desk. A young woman, with brunette hair sat at the circular desk, a blush across her cheeks and neck, you could only assume this was Roger’s doing.

“Hello, I’m Y/N, I’m here to visit Queen.” You smiled, as the young woman acknowledged you.

“Of course, they’re in studio three. If the light above the door is red, that means that they’re filming, so just wait until the light is green and then you can go in.” She explained, as you nodded your understanding. Bidding her farewell, you made your way down the corridor until you found a set of double doors, with a large number three painted next to them. Casting your gaze up, you spot the light you had been told about illuminated with a green glow, with a pleased hum you push the doors open and walk in.

Looking around, you try to spot anyone you knew, Roger, John, and Freddie all knew you would be there today, and you had somewhat expected at least one of them to greet you and bring you to Brian. Though as you look around, all you see are strangers.

Stepping further into the studio, your attention is drawn to the scene set up on the stage, it looks like a typical living room. A plush brown sofa, set in front of a stair case, and then to the right on a separate section of the stage there is what appears to be a kitchen set up, complete with pantry and sink. “What on Earth are these boys doing?” You breath out, it was an odd set up, though at this stage of knowing the boys, you had given up in trying to figure out what they were doing. You had learnt that lesson after questioning Freddie over the meaning of Bohemian Rhapsody. Despite it now being one of your favourite songs they had released so far, at the beginning you were rather sceptical.

“Oi Y/N!”

You whirl around on the spot, trying to see who would have called out for you, though you can’t see anyone you recognize, or who would recognize you.

“Y/N! Over here!”

You hear again, this time however you spot someone beckoning you over with a wave of their arm. A blonde woman, wearing bows in her hair, a school uniform, complete with pink and yellow neck tie, and white knee length socks stands by a closed door, and oddly familiar smirk on her lips. A confused frown crosses your features as you head towards the woman cautiously, as you get closer though you find yourself beginning to recognize who she is. By the time you’re face to face with the school girl, you have an eyebrow raised, and your arms crossed over your chest.

“Roger…. What the actual fuck are you wearing right now?” You groan out, you are definitely not drunk enough to deal with Roger in drag right now.

“Oh, this old thing?” He offers, a sultry pout on his pink lips, as he lifts the tie from his padded chest. “Just a little something I had lying around. Why? Would you like to borrow it some time? You know how much Brian loves school…” He winks at you and you find yourself blushing at the thought.

“You’re a horny idiot Rog.” You mutter with a shake of your head. Which only causes him to grin.

“Yeah, but you’re used to it by now! Now come with me, I have two people very eager to see you, and one who will be when he knows you’re here! We’ve got to start filming soon, once Freddie is ready, but it shouldn’t take too long!” He babbles, as he links his arm through yours and drags you through a door marked as ‘dressing room’. He kicks the door closed behind him, humming along to the music that seems to be constantly playing in his head. “We have company!” He suddenly announces, and you stand in the doorway, causing three sets of eyes to fall on you.

You can’t help it, you want to play it cool, you truly do, but it’s nearly impossible. Freddie is sitting on a bench with his legs crossed, wearing black heels, stocking, and black miniskirt, pale pink shirt, and a wig, with his moustache on full display, along with an overly stuffed bra.

John is on the sofa in the corner of the room, strumming his bass, a silver curled wig hidden beneath a black bucket hat, pearl earrings clipped onto his lobes, and a long black woollen coat covering his body. He’s not as well endowed as Freddie, but he too has some padding.

And then there’s Brian, who until you had walked in, was tuning The Red Special, though had nearly dropped the poor thing when he saw you. His glorious curls were rolled up in hair rollers of multiple colours, a satin pink night gown draped over his tall lean frame, striped socks and fluffy bunny slippers on his feet. He was looking directly at you, mouth agape and hazel eyes piercing into yours.

“Darling! How wonderful of you to join us!” Freddie exclaims as he leaps off the bench, sashaying his was towards you, before wrapping you in a warm hug, which you eagerly reciprocated, laughing deeply into his shoulder at the scene you had just walked into. “Rog, go fix your socks, you look a mess!” He chuckles, once you release each other, shooing Roger away over your shoulder.

You wave over at John, who’s grinning at the shocked expression that seems to be frozen on Brian’s face. “Hi Deaky, the pearls suit you.” You tease, though you know he won’t take any offence to your comments.

“Hey Y/N, I had to threaten Freddie with Bodily harm to stop him from actually piercing me.” He smirks, and you can’t quite tell if he’s joking or not.

You turn your attention to Brian, who still hadn’t moved, or spoken yet, “Hey…” You smile softly, allowing Freddie and Roger to bicker in the background. It feels like forever since you had last seen Brian, and you couldn’t care less that he was currently dressed as a woman, though you would have preferred something a little different, he was here and so were you, and that’s all that could possibly matter to you.

“Hi love. This is a bit of a surprise.” He blushes, before looking up at you sharply. “A nice surprise! I just wasn’t expecting to see you!” The words tumble from his lips, and you can’t help but chuckle at his rambling. Your hand lifts towards his face, and you brush your knuckles against his jaw.

“This is a good look for you, something from your personal collection?” You smirk, as he lifts an eyebrow at you, a groan escaping his parted lips.

“Yes, you caught me. This is what I wear whenever you’re out of the house.”

“He puts it on the minute we finish a show too!” Bellows Roger, who as you turn to look at him, has Freddie kneeling in front of him adjusting his socks.

“He takes forever in the tour bus bathroom too, takes him at least an hour to get all those hair rollers in!” Chimes in John, who had moved from the sofa and was biting into an apple by the minifridge.

Brian flops his head down, his chin resting atop your hair. “Make them stop! They’ve been teasing each other relentlessly since we got into costume.” He groans, before pressing a soft kiss to your scalp.

You wrap your arms around his waist, nudging your head up until Brian lifts his chin, and is again looking down at you. “I’ve missed this, being able to be in the same room as you for longer than five minutes. And you, I’ve missed you too of course.” There’s a moment where you’re both just looking at each other, nothing else around you matters, and you find yourselves wishing that this moment would last forever.

“When were you planning on telling me about this?” You ask, to which Brian raises a quizzical eyebrow. “The whole, drag thing! I mean, were you just going to wait and see if I ever found out, hoping that I wouldn’t?” You laugh, and he rolls his eyes.

“I wasn’t entirely sure how to phrase it, Hey Y/N, our new video has us dressing in drag! Though I would like to point out that this was all Roger’s idea.” He laughs.

“You all said it sounded like fun when I suggested it!” Roger cries.

“We were all drunk when you suggested it! You could have said we should film in black and white with a penguin and we would’ve said it sounded great!” Brian rebuts. He grins down at you, tightening his arms around your waist, to keep you securely by his side.

A loud knock on the door startles you both, and you practically jump apart. The door swings open, and a middle-aged man walks in, “Alright lads, we need you on set now.” He announces, before pivoting and walking out.

“That’s our cue. The sooner we get this started, the sooner we can leave.” Brian sighs, as he leans down and presses a kiss to your lips. He’s so soft and gentle with you, though the slight pressure behind the kiss reminds you of just what he would be doing to you if he wasn’t needed elsewhere. Freddie steps up behind Brian and grabs his hand before dragging him away from you.

“Come watch if you’d like?” Freddie calls over his shoulder, as you stand in the middle of the room, disappointment filling you from lack of a more passionate kiss.

With a shrug, you follow Roger out of the dressing room, and back into the main studio. Crew are running backwards and forwards, making sure everything is perfect for the shoot. John is sat on the sofa reading a newspaper, a woman readjusting his hat to make sure he looks perfect. Freddie is hidden away in the kitchen set, being handed a vacuum while Roger stands at the sink with his back to the door, and Brian has disappeared up the stairs, doing who knows what!

“Quiet on set! We start it three… two…” The director calls, and mouths out one, when the cameras begin rolling. The music kicks in, a familiar tune you had heard over and over again in the recording studio for weeks now. The drum beat begins, and then Freddie appears, moving the vacuum back and forth in time to the beat, strutting around in his glorious costume. Next comes Brian rushing down the stairs as John peers over the top of his newspaper, before settling himself more comfortably on the sofa. Brian races into the kitchen, and then there’s Roger rocking his hips in time to the music. However it’s the moment Freddie opens his lips to start singing, that you lose it, stifling your laughter behind your hand. One of the crew turns to look at you, offering a sympathetic smile, and you look away, trying desperately not to make a sound. It proves to be nearly impossible and you soon make your way back into the dressing room, settling yourself down on the sofa and soon falling asleep. Dreams of men in drag filling your head.

*****

You have no way of telling how long you had been asleep for, though you find yourself being woken up by a gentle hand brushing through your hair. You stretch your arms out, feeling your shoulder blades pop from the cramped position you had slept in.

“Y/N… It’s time to leave.” Brian’s gentle voice breezes past your ear, and you shudder, blinking your eyes open, and searching for him. “Hey, let’s go home yeah?” He offers as your eyes meet his, as he kneels beside your head, his slender fingers brushing through your hair, gently pulling at a knot for you.

“That sounds amazing.” You grin, as you look at him properly now. His hair was out of its rollers and once again flowing in its tight ringlets down his shoulders, and the nightgown had been replaced with jeans and a navy blue button down shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Sitting up, you push yourself up off the sofa, taking his outstretched hand once you are both standing. “Have the others left already?” You yawn, as the two of you make your way out of the studio, hand in hand.

“Only just, Deaky said something about cooking dinner for Veronica, I think Freddie is going out again, and Roger is doing something with Dominique… He wouldn’t go into any details, which is worrisome.” He laughs, as you make it to the parking lot, the warm day having turned to a cool evening. “Where did you park? I’ll drive us home.” He offers, as you lead him towards the back of the lot, to your car. Brian had arrived with Roger this morning to the studio, so now with Roger gone, it only made sense for the two of you to travel together.

The drive home only took fifteen minutes, the traffic being relatively quiet for the late hour, and as you both walked up the gravel driveway towards your shared house Brian hummed the tune to ’39, his arm wrapped around your shoulder. “You know, I’ve always loved that song.” You smile, as you kick off your shoes once inside the house.

Brian chuckles, following your lead and removing his shoes also. “And what makes you love it? Could it be because I wrote it? Or because I sing it?”

You roll your eyes up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck, stepping him backwards until his back hits the door. “You know I love your voice.” You breath out, pressing your fingertips to his scalp, massaging gently as he leans into your touch. “And your hair, your hands, your lips, I love everything about you.”

The smile which illuminates his face is angelic, and you feel a sense of pride over the fact that only you can make him look that way. “I love you Y/N, more than anything else in the galaxy.” He whispers, before bringing his lips down to yours. There’s a passion deep within the two of you, one that had been boiling to the surface over these past few weeks, due to the limited contact. The kiss starts gently, noses bumping against one another, hands trailing along the others body as if they were just discovering each other for the first time. Without any warning, Brian lifts you up, instantly you wrap your legs around his waist, securing your arms around his neck as he walks you to the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. Carefully he places you on the soft mattress, hovering above you as if you were his prey. He trails his hands down your waist, hooking his thumbs through the belt loops on your jeans, rubbing small circles on your hips, watching as goose pimples form along your arms. His fingers move to the button and zipper on your pants, agonisingly slowly he undoes the fastenings, before pulling the pants down your legs. He grins as your legs are exposed to him, grabbing the hem of your shirt, and rolling it up your stomach. You lift your arms and raise your back off the bed, as he pulls the fabric over your head.

“You’re stunning.” He murmurs, as he looks over you in just your underwear. “How could I be so lucky?” He’s leaning over you again, lips trailing down your chest, to your stomach, causing you to squirm slightly.

“You’re wearing clothes still.” You pout, causing Brian to look up from where he was kissing along your hip bone. He almost looks feral from what you can see of him, his hair tangled in odd directions from where you had messed it up with your fingers, and there’s a hungry gleam in his eyes, he’s hungry for you. In an instant, he’s stood up at the foot of the bed and almost frantically undoing his own jeans, shimmying them down to his feet, before kicking them away into the corner of the room. Next, he makes quick work of unbuttoning the first three buttons on his shirt, before stripping it off over his head, and tossing it in the same general direction as his jeans. You watch as he pounces back over you, sliding his fingers into the waistband of your panties, and slipping them down your thighs just as he had with your jeans moments ago. Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the cool air against your naked sex, a shudder rippling down your spine. Reaching up, you snap the band on his boxers, a slight groan leaving his parted lips as you do so, and you grin at his reaction. You slide his boxers down, just as he wraps his arms around you, unclasping your bra with practised precision. Both garments are strewn to the side, a light thud informing you that something had been knocked to the ground, a problem for later however.

“I love you, so much. You’re my world Y/N.” Brian whispers, as his lips meet yours once again, no longer gentle like he had been earlier, your desire is at the surface now, passion growing as your tongues explore the others mouth, teeth and noses bumping against the others as your hands grip any available body part they can reach. His hands are planted firmly beside your head now, as he looms above you, smiling down at your breathless form.

“Stay with me forever.” You plead, as he positions himself at your entrance. Your palm is cupping his cheek as you watch each other, both waiting for him to make the next move. You gasp as he pushes into you, as gently as he can, despite how eager he is. You hook your legs around his waist, pulling his body closer to yours, as he pushes his entire length inside you. You bite down on your lip to prevent yourself from moaning, not wanting to give away just how close you already were, given how long it had been since this level on intimacy. He’s watching you again you notice when you look up, he’s checking to see if you’re ready for him, and all you can do is smile. He leans his head down, his hair tickling your bare chest as his begins thrusting into you. You know each other well, and it doesn’t take long until you’re matching thrust for thrust. Your hips roll against his, both of you moaning at the delightful sensations of being together once more, you’re kissing along his neck as you move together in perfect sync, he thrust up hard into you, and you cry out in bliss, before sucking down hard on his neck, kissing and swirling your tongue as you make sure to mark him proudly as yours. He’s moaning your name as you do so, moving one hand down to cup your breast, while the other supports his weight above you. His fingers are calloused from always strumming his guitar, but you love the sensation of his rough fingertips tweaking your nipple. His hands are warm over your breast, and it feels divine!

He’s grunting deeply now, while your moaning is becoming more frequent, neither of you will last much longer. “Never…. I’ll never leave you Y/N.” He suddenly replies, as if he only now realised you had spoken earlier.

“Fuck, Bri I’m gonna cum!” You cry out, as you feel your body boiling closer to release. His thrusting increases its tempo, and you know he’s close too. Your sex is clamping down on his length when you feel him spill into you, white hot pleasure seeping deep within you from his release as you join him in total bliss. Ecstasy fill your mind as he collapses on top of you, blindly pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth as you both ride out your pleasure.

It takes you both a few minutes to come back down to earth, and Brian carefully removes himself from you, before rolling onto his side and wrapping his arms around you. His nose nuzzles your neck, kissing you softly as your breathing becomes normal again. “God I’ve missed you.” He mumbles, as he draws small circles against your stomach.

You turn your head slightly to see him behind you, and he peers over your shoulder at you. “Do we need to schedule in a part two into your diary?” You grin, placing your hands on top of his on your stomach.

“I think I can fit you in tomorrow morning actually.”

You blink at him, shock evident on your face. “But you’ve still got the music video to film?”

“They can do without me for a few hours. You’re my priority right now. Besides, Roger kept laughing through his takes, so they’ll need to redo most of his scenes first.” Brian chuckles, as he pulls the bed sheet up and over your naked bodies.

You turn in his arms, burrowing your head beneath his chin, allowing your hair to get in his way for a change. “I love you Bri.” You whisper, as sleep slowly over takes you, your eyelids growing heavy.

“Love you more.” You hear just as your world goes black with sleep.

My Masterlist

#brian may x reader #brian may x you #brian may fanfiction #queen fanfiction #queen band #brian may #freddie mercury #roger taylor #john deacon #smut #funny #humour #song fic #i want to break free #cross dressing #roger is a sneaky little shit #fluff #romance #love

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lost-stargazer-girl · 5 years ago

Text

|| A Step at a Time ||

Fandom: Haikyuu

Pairing: eventual!OcxOikawa

Word Count for this Chapter: 2544

*Author’s Note at the end and listings for other chapters*

Chapter 4: Hidden Persona

Two children lay in tranquility at a beautiful park. The dark haired girl’s head lays on the boy’s lap as she reads, eyebrows furrowing in concentration and the tip of a tongue sticking out in concentration. The boy gazes at her with fond, golden eyes as he lays back contently, arms cushioning his head as he serenely cloud gazes. It is a rare moment of peace for the two of them, one they are wholeheartedly willing to cherish and bask in.

The solid slam of a book jolts Bokuto Koutarou from his daze as Kagami shoots up from her position. He doesn’t bother getting up, only staring at her side profile and waiting for her next move. Koutarou knows it isn’t anything serious from the way her body remains loose and relax. She suddenly swivels her head towards him so quickly that he worries, for a moment ,that she’ll get whiplash. It wouldn’t be the first time she does something to make herself sick.

Kagami pins Koutarou with a piercing, crimson stare as she exclaims, “Kou-chan, we should go hang out at your house someday!” The girl’s eyes have that rare shine that soften the usually hardened, ruby eyes. However, even with the presence of his friend’s excitement, Koutarou stiffens and his eyes dull slightly to an unhappy yellow instead of the brilliant gold Kagami usually sees. She recognizes that stare, she realizes, feeling a sudden drop in her stomach and begins mentally berating herself for not noticing before. The sadness in his eyes, the loneliness.

The boy shuts his eyes gently before taking a deep breathe, “Mom and Dad aren’t home very often. They work a lot, so I understand, really. But,” Koutarou shivers slightly, “the house gets too quiet with only me in there. It’s nice out here with you. The quiet never feels cold.” There’s a slight pause after his confession and Koutarou feels his face heat up. He’s never told anyone his situation before because he didn’t want them to judge his family or pity him. He’s fine with it, he understands.

Suddenly, he feels tiny arms awkwardly wrap themselves around his waist and then his air supply is cut off. He flails for a few seconds, emitting incoherent sounds from both the lack of oxygen and his surprise. Kagami remains oblivious to this as she hugs her friend tighter, whispering an apology once. Just once.

As soon as she says the words, Koutarou is bewildered to find himself gasping and floundering for breathe like a fish on the green grass of the park. He clutches his chest and closes his eyes in an effort to ground himself as his breathing steadies. Kagami always surprises him. She’s always been reserved with her touches and never apologizes. In the year since the incident at the park and their first meeting, he never hears her apologize for her actions, regardless of the seriousness or magnitude of it.

“What,” he gasps roughly, “was that for?! Are you trying to kill me?” He slits one aureate eye toward the girl, only to find her form shaking from the effort of repressing her laughter at his predicament. He playfully growls at her failure of an attempt to save his pride and keep her composure.

“Hey,” an unfamiliar voice has both children jumping to their feet, smiles falling off their faces, “what are you guys doing?” Koutarou discretely places himself slightly in front of Kagami, who huffs at him in irritation but says nothing. He asses the boy who stands in front of them, he’s tall with hooded eyes that give him a catlike appearance and oddly spiked, black hair. He has his hands on his hips with a black eyebrow raised above a questioning hazel gaze. Koutarou takes note of the ball tucked in the crook of the unfamiliar boy’s elbow.

The golden eyed boy relaxes marginally when he feels the slight weight of a delicate hand on his shoulder. He exhales and steps slightly to the side for his friend. “Hi,” she greets the boy brightly, “I’m Akane Kagami and this overbearing misfit is Bokuto Koutarou. It’s nice to meet you!”Kagami shoots a hand out, gripping her friend’s head as she forces him into a bow of greeting with her. She ignores his welp of pain and quickly releases him when the two straighten their backs.

“Ah,” the boy inclines his head slightly towards the two, “I’m Kuroo Tetsurou. It’s nice to meet you as well Akane-san. Bokuto-kun seems like a loss cause in terms of manners, though.” His catlike eyes are glittering with poorly masked amusement as Koutarou’s face explodes in indignation. Kagami only sighs in exasperation at him as she levels Tetsurou with a tired smile, sensing his purpose.

“Yeah,” she sighs dramatically, “I’ve known him for a whole year, and he hasn’t changed one bit.” She glances at the boy in question and has to shoot her hand up quickly to muffle the uncontrollable laughter from his gaping face.

Koutarou crosses his arms petulantly and pouts, feels an itch growing at the back of his throat. He opens his mouth and surprises himself as his voice shouts out, “Hey, hey, hey! Stop dissing someone as awesome as me!” At his declaration, Kagami falls to the floor in tears as she laughs at his response. Koutarou takes the scene in for a moment, aware of observant eyes watching him. He’s never seen his friend this carefree, sure, there are moments when the two don’t feel any tension and can just relax. But, this is different. Kagami is happy. And because of him. He grins in victory and thinks that, maybe, he’ll adopt that catchphrase if this is the reaction he’ll always get.

“As cute as this scene is,”Tetsurou purrs, “I wanted to ask you guys something.” Kagami stops rolling around on the grass and peers up at the boy with joyful, carmine eyes. Bokuto even looks at the boy with slight curiosity. The two friends are not very open nor social, it’s a first for them to have someone approach them. Surprisingly, the catlike boy looks off to the side with red creeping up his neck as he awkwardly rubs his neck with his free hand. “Well, I saw you guys kind of sitting here alone. My friend went home early today, so I was wondering if you wanted to play volleyball with me.” He shyly holds the red, green, and white boy out to the two, who glance at each other in surprise and delight. They turn back towards their new friend and nod their heads frantically. Tetsurou whoops in delight and runs off to find a court, knowing the two would follow.

…

Kagami finds herself on the stands of the Seijoh gym, watching the volleyball team practice with increasing annoyance. It’s not really Oikawa-senpai that bothers her. After the initial confrontation, with Hajime dropping the figurative ball onto Oikawa-senpai’s head and leaving him stuck gaping at their forms, the girl quietly slides past him to the stands. She’s relatively near the coaches and can hear all their anecdotes on the team, but she’s still unsatisfied.

Hajime and Oikawa-senpai are not in this particular practice game, but she is still disappointed by the performance of the third years. True, the Spring Tournament is over and they just want to play one more game before focusing on studies, but Kagami is close to tearing her obsidian locks out of her scalp. Her eyes narrow as she watches a player side jump in order to block an incoming spike and drops her head into her hands helplessly as the spiker easily avoids the blocker and scores a point.

Kagami releases another sigh as she wonders just how her school is one of the best with the condition their defense is. The team relies too much on their libero and not enough on strategizing their blocks, she internally groans. The libero could only dig up so many spikes before their stamina dies.

She feels a burning sensation run along the back of her neck, someone is watching her. Chancing a glance to where the second and first years are waiting, she catches a glimpse of amusement within olive eyes. She gives Hajime her best withering glare and curses the years they have been friends as her venomous stare seems to have little effect on the second year, only causing him to laugh at her predicament.

While Hajime distracts her with their childish, silent squabbles, Coach Irihata plunks himself down relatively near the new girl Iwaizumi brought to practice. He admits that her presence sparks his attention, especially when he realizes she is not another one of the mindless girls who know nothing about volleyball and come to gush over his second year setter, Oikawa-kun. While the team may not realize it, not even the brunette setter who is famous for his observational skills and perception, they need to improve a great deal more in all aspects of volleyball if they want to win against Shiratorizawa. Especially on blocks and serves. So when he hears continuous sighs at every point a mediocre block or action is done, he becomes curious. Then finds surprise filling his mind as he watches the girl look on at the team’s practice with disappointment and frustration.

“So,” the man begins gently. He quietly chuckles as Kagami whips her crimson gaze to meet his own calm, dark brown eyes. “You seem to know a bit about volleyball.” The coach gauges her reaction and raises an eyebrow as he watches her eyes dull to a deep maroon as she shakes her head. Well, from her closeness with Iwaizumi, the coach thinks the blunt and straightforward way would work better with her. He smiles kindly as he states, “I saw your reactions to the third years’ game, you didn’t seem very impressed.” Coach Irihata begins to outright laugh as the girl’s head begins to shake side to side rapidly. “By the way, Miss, what’s your name?”

The dark haired teen stops her frantic shaking and smiles nervously, hands wringing in her lap, “Ah,” she stands, slightly wobbly, and politely bows to the man, “I’m Akane Kagami, sir. Please, pardon my intrusion on your team’s practice.” The girl straightens her back and moves to sit back down, relief palpable on her face though it is not seen by the man.

Coach Irihata hums, that name sounds familiar, but he just can’t remember where he may have heard it from. “I’m Irihata Nobuteru, the Head Coach of Aoba Johsai’s volleyball club. Have you played any sports before, Akane-san?” It’s a good question. One that could reveal where he’s heard her name from and her apparent knowledge of volleyball.

Kagami immediately sees the attempt at getting more information out of her. She flashes a secretive smile at the man, “No, not really,” she states gently, voice soft with faux openness. The coach observes her for a moment before laughing jovially, aware his attempts would most likely get him nowhere.

“Well, my girl, you certainly are a sharp one,” he pauses in his laughter and turns back to the game once more. Feeling that the conversation is over, Kagami does the same. However, she is still unable to hold back her winces at the amateur technique the players are displaying. Good teamwork, though, she notes as a particular combination play scores a point. “What do you think of the games, Akane-san? I’ve been thinking of drills for the remaining members once our third years decide to retire, but I’m not quite sure what to focus on.” Kagami blinks, knowing a bait when she hears one, but she really can’t help herself.

Crimson eyes flit back to the game, observing everything for a moment. Kagami turns back to the coach and slumps in defeat, she may love her privacy, but she cherishes the moment of surprise and accomplishment on the face of someone she’s helped grow. She head hangs low as she reluctantly admits, “Their defense is barely passable, at best. There’s not many people specializing as middle blockers and are serious about it. They tend to lift their arms up without much strength and rely on the receives of the libero. The way the players jump is also something that’s killing their blocks; they’re jumping diagonally for a one touch instead of aiming for a complete shutout or trying to control block by jumping straight up in front of the spiker’s dominant hand. The serves are weak, as well. Their teamwork seems to be able to fill the majority of the holes from the weakness in each individual player, but in order for a team to be strong, the players need to be confident of themselves and their technique.” Kagami’s cheeks are bright red with embarrassment after her rapid explanation of the team’s skill in blocking, it may be a tad bit unfair to judge the first and second years along with their upperclassmen but mimicking those older than you happens more often than not. She glances at the Head Coach and squeaks in mortification at his wide stare. She immediately jumps to her feet, ignoring the stabbing pain in her knee from the sudden motion, and bows in apology.

Coach Irihata snaps out of his daze at the sight of a wince on Akane-san’s face right before she bows to him. He slowly stands in front of her, causing her to look up at his kind eyes in confusion. However, all the man does is place his hands on her shoulders and guide her back to her seat on the stands. He gently pats her shoulder with one hand and chuckles in a grandfatherly way, “It really did not bother me, Akane-san. I was only surprised you were able to pick out the flaws in their defense so easily! We’ve been a powerhouse for years with eyes constantly watching our every play and movement, but I don’t think anyone has ever seen through our team so quickly before!” The coach sits back down and crosses his arms as an amused smile grows on his face, “You sure you’ve never played volleyball before? Those observations and tips seem pretty detailed, it’s almost like you knew how to look for flaws like those in my boys’ defense!”

Kagami chuckles nervously, breath catching in her throat as she rubs the back of her neck with a shaking hand in embarrassment. She chances a glance at Hajime, hoping to find a reassuring gaze, but wilts as she notices his rapt attention on the third years’ game. Her gaze shoots back towards the coach, who is watching her with a raised eyebrow as he waits for her response. She allows a thin smile to stretch across her face, “Ah, I really don’t play volleyball but a few of my friends do. I just learned what to look for after watching their games and practices back in middle school.” There is definitely more to it than that, but Kagami is unwilling to divulge her entire story to this man, regardless of how kind he is.

The man hums thoughtfully, gaze turning skyward in seemingly deep thought. Without looking at her, he asks, “Would you like to be our manager?”

Author’s Note

Guys, I am so so sorry for not getting this chapter out on time, please forgive me!!! My English teacher just gave us 3 overlapping projects right when we came back for break and I’ve just been super busy! One of these projects is to write 20 poems, and I actually centered most of them around Haikyuu and other animes... Would you guys like me to post them? Anywho, I’ve actually made a posting schedule: During the school session, I will be posting on Sunday night/early Monday morning. During school breaks (winter, spring, ect) I will be posting at least 2x a week. And during summer break, expect 3-4 posts a week!!!

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!!!

~ Prologue ~ Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~

#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#oikawa #oikawa tōru #bokuto #bokutokoutarou #iwaizumi hajime #hq iwaizumi #kuroo #kuroo tetsurō #aoba johsai #coachirihata

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ad-n-kay · 4 years ago

Text

Prince Charming is Not my Type

Chapter One- Sweetheart

Tuesday- January 2, 20XX.

Nova Hazel Marquez

I stood by my locker, taking out my math book, with my two best friends at my side. Marley, the school hipi, to my left and Luca, the school's star quarterback, to my right. We are a 'strange bunch' as everyone says. Me, Nova Hazel Marquez, being the school tomboy. The halls were packed and loud, as it always is every morning. Filled with teens bickering about parties, boy drama, and Prom that's coming up. Conversations floating around about who's going to be there and with whom. The main people on everyone's lips, the three musketeers, as they call themselves... I roll my eyes thinking about Emma, the school mean girl, cheerleader and how she could try and steal the heart of one of our school's musketeers. As she tries to do every year before Prom.

Think of the devils and they may come, the hall grew silent as the schools three bad boys entered the hallway. All students moved to make them a path through the crowded hall. I turned back to my locker; the three musketeers walked down the hall behind me, musketeer number three being Parker Davis. Tall broad shoulder brunette with the lightest blue eyes you could imagine. Number two being Coal Micheals, slim but buff, smiling blondy with brown eyes. Probably the worlds biggest player. And of course number one, mister heart-throb of the school Logan MacKellin. Tan, tall, muscular, black wavy haired, hazel golden eyed hunk who believe it or not doesn't date! All of them wearing their signature black ripped jeans, white t-shirt, and black leather jacket. Classic bad boy look.

A gasp came from Marley and I turned to see what shocked her, even though I didn't care nor want to know. What I saw even shocked me. There, in front of the three bad boys, stood a tall dark red haired girl who held a schedule in her hands. Must be new here. By the look on the bad boys' faces, you could tell she wasn't having a pleasant conversation with the three. Coal looked pissed, Logan looked amused and Parker looked shy, strange, that's not like him. You see, Parker and I used to be close, he was once a part of the "strange bunch," then he started to hang with his other friends, the musketeers, more than us, so naturally, I know him pretty well.

At this point, Coal was as red as a tomato and speechless. Logan was holding his knees laughing and trying to catch his breath. And Mr. Shy was looking anywhere, but at the new girl walking away, with a slight blush on his face. All I heard from their conversation was something about "ducklings," strange, why would that piss Mr. Bad Boy off so much, crack the other up and make the last blush?

I shook my head as they began to walk. Saying bye to Luca and Marley, I grabbed my bag and started to head to class. With me being my stupid, clumbsy self, I bumped into someone. OHHHHH!!! That's a muscular stomach and chest! I thought. Without looking up I mumbled sorry and started to walk again, but was stopped dead in my tracks because of two things. One was Coal, he sounded irritated, with a huff he said "Everyones getting in our way today, aren't they?" Damn that sounded bitter. And two, there was a hand around my wrist, stopping me from walking further.

I looked up and saw Logan, the owner of the hand along with the muscular chest and stomach. I frowned and furrowed my eyebrows at him.

"Yes?" I questioned "Can I walk without you grabbing me?"

"Sorry Nova, you were going to run into Parker if I didn't stop you," he said back.

WOW! WOW! WHAT?

He knows my name? How?

What the fuck? We've like, never talked, ever!

Wow, Mr. Heart throb knows my name.

"Awe, sweetheart, don't look so confused and worried. I just don't want you bumping into anyone else, try not to watch your feet so much," he smirked at me.

I looked dumbly at him.

Sweetheart? What?

"Head to class, Nova, you're going to be late," he said with a bright smile.

"Uh, yeah, thanks Logan," it came out as more of a question than an answer.

"No problem, love," he said.

And with that I headed to bio. Parker trailing behind me, him as well, looking confused. Parker catches up to me,"Sweetheart? Love?," he questioned. "You know, I didn't even know he knew my name, and what's up with the pet names?" I asked him. He shrugged, "I'm not sure, I've never heard him use pet names with anyone." Weird. Oh well.

"So... Mr.Shy, you like the new girl," I asked.

He just blushed and shook his head. I chuckle at his childishness and then we walk into Bio. We both sat at the same lab table, but with a space in between us.

"So, how did Logan learn my name?" I asked him.

"I'm not sure, but you do know that we have gone to school with him since primary school, right?" he said.

"We have!?" I questioned, "how did I not notice him tell high school?"

He laughed and shrugged again, "I don't know, Via, you're not the most observant," he said.

"HEY!," I growled then smacked his arm. He just laughed and got his notebook out.

"It is kind of strange though," he said.

"What?," I asked.

"That he knows your name," he answered.

"How?," I mumbled confused.

"Well, you see he doesn't learn the names of the girls in this town, or at all, actually," he said.

"Why not?" okay, now I'm really confused.

But before I could get an answer, Parker looked towards the door and blushed, completely going silent. When I looked I saw the new girl walking in. Yeah he definitely likes her. The new girl looks around searching for a seat. Goody the only open one is next to Parker! The new girl noticed and headed our way, she sits and turns towards me and in a thick scottish accent ,"Hello, my name is Ricolette Amethyst MacCormack. And you are?" "Do we really have to do the middle name thing?" I asked. ̈"That's a bit too formal for me." She chuckles, "heh, nice. I already like you. So, what's your name?" she asked. "Not into the formal stuff are you," I chuckled, "by the way, I'm Nova Marquez." Ricolette went on to explain why she doesn't like things that are formal, but quited down as the teacher walked in. I noticed Parker not writing and bouncing his leg anxiously. Nervous that the new girl sat next to you,are we? It's okay little Parky, I doubt Ricy will bite. Oh I'm calling her that from now on.

~~~~~

"What's wrong Parky, forgot how to write?" I teased with a big smirk on my face.

Next to me, Ricy began to laugh, quite loudly and then apologized for interrupting class.

"Yeah, we're definitely going to be good friends," she whispered to me. I smiled at that. I really hope, there's no one else at this school other than her and I that is willing to stand up to the Musketeers, so I hope we end up being good friends. It would be fun to torture the bad boys with her.

Before I knew it, we had finished our class work and class had come to an end. I guess it's off to english for me.

.....

Second period seemed to end before it began. And then I had to head to Spanish class. As I walked I had a weird feeling that everyone was watching me, but also like someone was following me.

Oh well.

"Hola Nova," my spanish teacher greeted me as I walked to the door.

"Hola Logan," she said looking past me.

My neck snapped to look behind me, and sure enough Mr. Heartthrob was right behind me, just looking at me.

Since when did Mr. Heartthrob have spanish with me? I thought, deciding it would be fine to say it out loud.

"Since when did you have spanish with me?" obviously not calling him Mr. Heartthrob, don't want to boost his ego, now do we?

"Awe, you break my heart, Nova. We have been in the same spanish classes since freshman year and you're just now noticing me? I'm hurt," he said mocking fake pain, with a hand on his beautiful, muscular chest.

Wow, beautiful, muscular chest? What? I think I need to stop staying up till 1am reading, I think I'm going delusional.

"Oh whatever Mr. Ego," I said to him, walking into the class.

"Awe, now you're walking away from me, you pain me, sweetheart," he said with and obvious smirk playing in his voice.

Again with the pet names? Parker said he doesn't use pet names! Let alone, learn a girl's name.

"What's up with all the pet names, Mr. Bad boy?" I questioned.

"Tsk, tsk, love, don't question me, it might end up bad. And if anything, I should be asking what your infatuation is with calling me Mr. Blank. You got a naughty kink I should know about, pumpkin?" he smirked.

THIS PRICK!!! What the fuck?! Wait, Pumpkin? Another one?

"UGH!!! Fuck you, prick!" I said irritated.

"Anytime, darling," he smirked.

Does he always smirk so much? Is that just his face? God he's irritating, oh but so hot!!! Yeah I definitely need sleep.

I growl in frustration and walk further into the class, past him, taking a random seat in the back of the class, just ready for this class to be over already. To my despise, he walked in and took the seat next to me.

How fucking lovely!!! Note my sarcasm.

I turned to him smirking," Obsessed with me, are you?" I teased.

Might as well piss him off so he stops talking to me.

"Always, pumpkin," he smirks.

Oh he so didn't.

"Isn't there someone else you can go and bug? And not me?" I asked, clearly getting annoyed.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but class has already started, plus I have to get you back for running into me this morning, don't you think it's only fair?" he teased.

"Oh that's so not fair, I didn't see you, I was looking down," I grumbled.

"Yeah, but you still ran into me, love. You really need to stop watching your feet, so much, when you walk," he smiled.

Wow! His smile is mesmerizing! Okay, Nova, stop swooning!

"And what do you suppose I look at instead?" I questioned.

"Well Nova, you could always look at me," he smirked again.

This cocky prick!

"And why would I want to do that?" I said, trying not to chuckle at the look on his face, sadly the surprise was gone quicker than it showed up.

"Because I'm undeniably sexy," he smirked.

"I beg to differ, I'd rather look at Parker," I smirked, knowing I was getting to him. His face flashed with an emotion I couldn't recognize, but it left, again quicker then it showed up.

Strange...

"You pain me, princess," he chuckled.

God, he's just adding to the list of pet names!!!

" I do that a lot, don't I?" I asked.

"Yeah, especially since..." he couldn't finish his sentence because our spanish teacher shushed us and began to speak.

Since what?! What was he going to say! Oh lord help me.

"Hola clase," she said enthusiastically.

"Hola senora Mason," the class mumbled. And of course, I stopped listening after that.

What was he going to say? What the hell? Have I changed? Wait he didn't even know me before today. God I'm confused.

When senora Mason asked what the date was, in spanish I heard Logan grown next to me.

Don't like spanish, do we Mr. Heartthrob?

I bumped Logan. "Don't really like spanish?" I asked and the class answers senora Mason, saying "Es la dos de enero."

"It's not that I don't like it, it's just that it's annoying to learn things you already know," he whispered to me.

"Already know?"

"Yeah, I'm fluent in spanish, took this class for credit," he chuckles.

WHAT THE HELL?! Mr. Heartthrob is hot and smart?! Score!!! Okay, stop that, Nova, stop right now.

"Awe, sweetheart, you're looking confused again," he chuckled.

"Who knew Mr. Heartthrob was smart?" I mumbled under my breath hoping he wouldn't hear.

"Not many people, love," he smirked.

Ahhhhh shit!!!

"Don't tell people I'm smart, and I wont tell people that you called me Mr. Heartthrob," he chuckled.

THIS PRICK!!!

"Ugh, you're irritating!" I growled.

"Deal or no deal?" he asked, sticking his hand out for me to shake.

"Ugh, deal!," I grumbled, taking his hand.

We shook, but he didn't let go of my hand yet. Instead, he looked down at it, looking straight at my thin silver ring with a slight greenish blue design, made to look like leaves.

He began to twirl it around my finger. It always was on my right ring finger. My mother gave it to me for my 15th birthday. Two days before I got in "the accident."

Under the ring sat a scar. It was less than 5cm, but just big enough to notice.

He stopped playing with my ring, looking at the scar that hide under it's thin band.

"Where'd you get that?" he questioned, looking up, staring straight into my eyes.

Oh god, his eyes are beautiful, they are a lovely golden, green. They always shine so bright.

"The ring or the scar?" I asked quietly.

"Both," he smiled, a real smile, not a smirk, but a smile.

"The ring from my mom when I turned 15 and the scar is from an accident two days after," I smiled back.

He hummed in understanding. Playing with my ring a little more, but dropped my hand when we had the worksheet handed to us.

What the hell was that about?

We were both silent the rest of the period, just working on the class work. The bell rang a few minutes after I had finished my work. I got up and began to pack up my stuff.

"So, where are we going?" Logan asked.

"What do you mean?" I questioned.

"Where are we going, sweetheart? I'm going to walk you to your next class," he chuckled.

"Oh, I have a free period next," I laughed.

"Good, I don't want to be lonely. I got free too, where should we go, love?" he smiled, that breathtaking smile.

"You want to hang out with me?" I said confused.

"Of course I do, Via," he said flirtatiously.

Strange, only Parker calls me that.

"Hmmm, I guess we could go get food or something. I'm starving, I didn't eat breakfast today," I chuckled.

"Food it is!!!" he exclaimed happily, grabbing my hand and dragging me to the parking lot towards a beautiful dark blue, 1975 stepside chevy.

I was too busy gawking at his truck to realize he'd got in.

"Are you coming, sweetheart, or are you just going to keep drooling over my beautiful truck?" he smirked.

I glared at him and got in the passenger's seat.

"You like Baby?" he asked.

"I'm guessing Baby is your truck, so yes," I smiled.

He chuckled and started the truck.

We didn't drive too far, just down the street to Mary's Drive and Dine. It's a popular place for us high school students to hang out at during lunch, free periods and after school. We also have after parties here after football games.

I honestly, rarely go here. I just don't enjoy how crowded it gets. It makes me uncomfortable, but because it was during the free period, the diner was pretty much empty.

I smiled when I realized it wasn't crowded.

Thank gosh!

"Smiling causes you to be happy to be alone with me?" Logan smirked.

"Technically, we're not alone, there's the cooks, the cashier, the waitresses and that couple in the back," I smirked back.

"Is that so, sweetheart? We can always go back to my place to be alone," he said, more serious than I was comfortable with.

"I'm going to regret going with you, aren't I?" I mumbled under my breath and shook my head, causing him to chuckle.

More on Wattpad. Prince Charming is not my Type- adn_kay

#original story #new authors #mystery stories

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roxybefab · 5 years ago

Text

The Ink Artist

The art classroom was quiet, the only sound heard was Riley’s even breathing and the sound of the ink covered pen she held.

Her animation was almost complete and many basic sketches of the two main characters littered the table she sat at. She was currently working on an idea for her next episode.

Her wavy chocolate brown locks were in a loose side braid.

She was about average height but still wore heeled brown boots to make her look a bit taller. Her body was what she considered ‘fluffy’, an excuse for her slightly chubby body.

She wore a baggy hooded plaid shirt, red and black, and black leggings underneath.

Her eyes, hazel and huge, were protected by a pair of big round glasses and her cheeks were rosy.

Her skin was beige (although it was hard to tell by the ink that covered her hands), similar to most hispanic people, and her lips, plump, were a gorgeous shade of pink.

The door opens and in comes Amanda Mary Drew, Riley’s best (and only) friend.

Mandy was a pretty and kind girl.

Like Riley, she was ‘fluffy’ and sported rosy cheeks.

Her skin was a bit lighter and she wore some fake glasses, which she claimed were repelling blue light, that made her look good and smart at the same time.

“H..Hey, Muh-muh...Mands!” the brunette’s face turned a light pink in embarrassment as she struggled to speak. She sighs and looks down to keep working on the outline.

Mandy smiles at her, a quiet ‘hey’ leaving her lips as she sat down beside her.

“So, you’re still working on these two goofs, huh?” Mandy picks up the paper, the two main characters from before on the paper.

Riley smiles and nods.

The names Candy and Charlie were in big letters and two children were on the page. Both looked to be made of candy, marshmallows, and sported crowns on their heads. The girl, Candy, and the boy, Charlie, both siblings. Mandy smiles back and puts the drawing back down.

“Hey, did you hear? Jeff killed someone else.” Riley perks up at the familiar name, her attention turning to the smaller female as she opens her bag and pulls out a newspaper. The words, ‘JEFF STRIKES AGAIN’ on the front. It showed a picture of a woman, crying, holding her child. The little boy had a grin cut into his face and you could see that he was stabbed multiple times. Riley smirks to herself, opening the paper and reading,

Jeff the Killer strikes again, murdering a twelve year old boy by the name of Allen. He was found in his bed, stabbed about twenty times and a smile carved into his face. Police haven’t found him quite yet and it is very obvious that they are getting frustrated with how this killer keeps escaping from them—

She sighs, handing it back to Mandy who takes it and shoves it in her bag.

“Hey, wanna g-go out and get suh-suh-something? Lunch starts i-i-in thirty muh-muh-minutes and I really whu-whu-want some Mcdonalds.” Riley suddenly asks, putting down her pen and getting up to stretch. She heard Mandy let out an ‘Okay.’ as she begins putting away her supplies.

“I’m home!” Riley groans in annoyance, turning up the volume of the tv. A cartoon was playing, Spongebob is what the brunette remembered it was called, and Riley couldn’t help but ignore her mother’s boyfriend when he walked in the room with a bag of chinese takeout.

“Hey, dude!” he exclaims once he sees her, a smile on his face as he sits next to her. She smiles at him, “Hey, Duh-Duh-Dylan” leaving her lips before she goes back to her drawing. She hears the crinkling of the plastic bag , the smell of orange chicken and chow mein hitting her as soon as she looks up at him with a questioning look on her face.

He was young, 34 from what Riley remembered, with dark fluffy hair and an average body. He was always around, more than Riley’s mom, and Riley couldn’t help but feel like he was her father. He smiles his huge, white smile at her as he started to put food on a plate.

“Your mom is gonna work late,” he hands her the plate, “So I decided we could hang out.”

“Yeah, t-th-that sounds c-cool.” she smiles, putting her sketchbook down as she starts to dig in.

“So, you still drawing in ink only?” he asks before taking a bite of his food. Riley nods, glancing down at the inked sketch from before.

“Maybe t-t-tomorrow I’ll c-c-color it?” Dylan laughs, making the teen lift a brow.

“What’s s-so fuh-funny?” She asks, slightly glaring at him.

“Kid, you always say that! Last week you said you’d color in the last one but you ended up not doing it.”

“Yeah, but that d-d-doesn’t mean I-I-I won’t th-th-this time!”

Riley remembered how she only colored her art when her dad was around. When he died she stopped adding color in anything. She remembered her dad, a tall and cheerful man who loved his family more than anything.

But things change.

An hour passed, it was now 10:30 of the night and Villainous was now playing on the tv.

Riley yawns, drawing in ink like always and glancing at her soon to be step father. He was watching the spanish cartoon intently, chuckling whenever Dr. Flug did something goofy.

The front door opens, footsteps sounding as they made their way to the living room.

“Oh, hey, love!” Her mother says, walking in and heading straight to Dylan to give him a kiss.

“Hey, Lori!” He chuckles when she grins at him before she glances at her daughter and sneers at her.

She still doesn’t forgive me..

Riley sighs, looking away from her mother and to the tv. Black Hat was advertising some kind of villain summer getaway.

Lori Lawrence hated her daughter. She didn’t hate her for no reason, no, she hated her because Riley’s father had died two years earlier in search of a perfect birthday gift for their wonderful talented daughter. They had gotten a phone call at 1 in the morning and apparently some guy hit him with his car after looking down at his phone. Lori had fallen into depression, not eating or sleeping. Whenever Riley went near her she’d scream and yell at her, telling her that it was her fault. That if she didn’t exist then he wouldn’t have left the house and he wouldn’t have gotten ran over.

And as she got better, she started to be gone. Longer than the day before. She had left, once, for a month. She never answered the phone when it was her daughter. Luckily for Riley, Dylan soon came into the picture. He had added some happiness in her life as well as Mandy.

“I’m going to b-bed.” she mutters, standing up and making her way to her room with her sketchbook in hand.

It wasn’t her fault that her dad wanted to make her happy.

But it still hurt the sixteen year old that her mom blamed her for her dad’s death.

That night Riley lay awake in her twin bed. This wasn’t the first time, she’s had insomnia since that fateful night. But she always ended up asleep by midnight.

She glances at her phone, the screen illuminating the room for a couple seconds as she reads the time. 3:13 it read, before turning off.

The sound of footsteps in the hall got her attention, shuffling and breathing passing her room. She knew it wasn’t her mother or Dylan, they were out at some bar getting drunk. With a shaky sigh, Riley pulled the duvet off of her and sat up, stretching a bit before making her way to her door.

The shuffling stopped as soon as she opened the door but she heard glass drop in the kitchen, and the ‘crunch’ of walking over the glass.

Taking in a deep breath, Riley quietly makes her way to the kitchen. There was part of a glass plate lying on the wooden floor, the other half smashed into bits all over the floor. No one was in the kitchen but once the young teen looked out the window her heart sped up and she felt the color drain from her face.

There was a tall man under a lamp post, all other light on the street gone other than the one that hit him. He wore a suit, and he wouldn’t have freaked Riley out much if she hadn’t noticed that he had no face. Tentacles came out of his back and he was ‘staring’ at Riley.

He tilted his head when she quickly clutched her chest, her heart beating fast and her throat closing from the fear.

The light quickly turns off, darkness taking over the street and he was gone.

Riley was too busy trying to control her breathing to realizes that she fell to her knees on top of the glass shards, her vision was getting blurry and she only heard static before she passed out.

“What’s w-wrong with y-you?”

Mandy jumps, the fluffy haired girl visibly deflating in relief when she sees the ink artist. Riley noticed her tear filled eyes and quickly hugs Mandy.

“What’s w-wrong?” Riley asks again, more quietly this time.

“My parents.. They.. Kicked me out..” Mandy burst into tears in her friend’s arms.

“You c-c-can stay w-w-with me i-i-if you’d like.” Riley said.

Mandy had really strict parents who usually made her do what they want. They had disowned one of Mandy’s older brothers just because he was bisexual so Riley didn’t really question why they would kick out Mandy.

“Are you sure? What about your mom and Dylan?” Mandy looked up at the brunette, “I don’t want to be a burden.” Riley smiles at her.

“Don’t worry about it, Mands. They’re buh-both guh-guh-gonna be gone f-fo-for a month to Hawaii. T-to make u-up the h-honeymoon the-they never had.” Riley rolls her eyes, slowly letting go of the shorter female, “My mom c-can’t s-say anything a-about it, she’s ne-never home anyways.”

“Okay, thank you so much,” Mandy smiles, her eyes were now puffy, “If it’s okay, can you drive me to your place then? My parents didn’t let me get any of my things..”

“Y-y-yeah! I’ll text you whu-what my car looks like.”

“What do you have after lunch again?” Mandy asks, putting her backpack on.

“I-I-I have a-a-art, dummy!” Riley giggled as Mandy facepalms.

“I’ll see you later then, Riles.” Mandy says, walking out the door.

“Hey, R-R-Riley!” Devin, the school douche says as she passes by her, shoving her to the side as he made his way to his seat. The art teacher walked in shortly after and started taking role. Then he began speaking about drawing something christmas themed because the finals were coming up.

She’s been drawing the creature she’s been seeing.

Tall man with no facial features, just a pale white face, and tentacles coming out of him.

She hasn’t stopped seeing him.

Three times now.

That’s how many times she’s seen the creature in the past two months.

The second time he had been standing on her front porch and she had noticed him through a window.

The third was at school, she was busy trying to finish her Lit Writ homework outside of class and had looked up to see him a couple yards away.

They always ended with her passing out.

And slowly Riley noticed some other things appearing.

Jeff the Killer had shown up in her room the night before.

But he didn’t kill her, no, he just stood at the foot of her bed and stared down at her. He had slowly made his way to stand next to her before he whispered the words, ‘Go to sleep’, gently tracing a smile on the younger girl’s lips and up to her cheeks before she passed out.

Riley looks down at her sketchbook, opening it up and adding more ink to the newest drawing.

She was drawing Jeff this time, just in ink, her emotions going through her and onto the page.

She sighed, glancing down at her hands that were covered in ink. The sticky dark substance was covering her arm, all the way up to her elbows.

Strange.. She thinks, staring at her arms before going back to the sketchbook.

“He said something christmas themed, you stuttering freak!” Mandy’s boyfriend slams his hand on her sketchbook, laughing at his own comment before he quickly throws her pens and sketchbook to the floor.

It’s going to be a long day.. Riley thinks, glaring at the male before picking up her supplies.

Two hours later, Riley and Mandy were in her home eating leftovers from the night before.

“Hey, why are your arms covered in ink?” Mandy asked the quiet girl, watching her inking a drawing that she recognized as Jeff the Killer.

“I-I don’t know. It won’t co-come off. I b-blame Devin and his fuh-fuh-friends. I have spanish with th-them and tha-that class always ha-ha-has me asleep by the e-end so..”

Mandy nods, watching Riley get up and walk to the living room.

It was lunch again, Riley was in the art room eating and drawing. The art teacher told her to try and get the project done so she decided to just do it at lunch. It’s been a month, the ink on her arms has only spread up her body, her legs and arms were dripping ink everywhere and she often spit out ink. She sighs, tugging the sleeves of her plaid shirt down more. Her mom had arrived two nights ago but left in the morning. Riley stares at the drawing, wanting to color it but deciding against it.

A yell made her whip her head up, her bangs covering an eye as she stared at the door. After a couple seconds and hearing another yell followed by laughter, she quickly got up and walked to the door.

Was that Mandy? Her only thought. Her heart beat sped up and she felt the ink dripping faster.

Taking a long and deep breath, Riley quietly opened the metal door. The sight made her angry, the sight of her best friend in pain making her hate Devin more than ever.

Her blood boiled at the sight of Devin lifting his hand to smack Mandy again, tears were streaming down her cheeks and Riley could see the red outlining of a handprint on Mandy’s cheek.

Devin’s friends were surrounding them, two turning to see who opened a door.

Riley felt the ink fall to the floor, but instead of hearing the drip drop of liquid, she heard a ‘clang’.

The kind that metal hitting the floor makes.

Riley looked down, noticing that it was a knife; a long bladed knife with a dark handle and it looked like the thing was melting.

It didn’t take long for Riley to notice that it was made of ink and that’s why it was dripping.

A ‘smack’ was heard, followed by laughter again and Riley picked up the knife, looking up and glaring at Devin and his friends.

“Let her go.”

Devin looked startled and looked over at Riley for a second. Mandy stood next to him, tears rolling down her face and a trembling lip.

The sight made Riley even angrier than before.

Devin rolled his eyes and nodded his head at the tallest kid in his ‘gang’.

Riley recognizes him as Julio, the douche who’s been making fun of her stutter all year. Anger burned through Riley’s veins and she felt like she was melting because of it.

“What the fuck is happening to your face?” Devin gaped as Riley tilted her head in slight confusion, “it’s melting!” Devin took a step back. Julio made a disgusted sound but didn’t back down, just stood in front of the ‘melting’ girl.

Julio took a step back, making Riley whip her head in his direction before a feeling started to form inside Riley. She knew what the feeling was, knowing it was not a feeling but an urge. Something that she really craved. A low growl sounded, coming past her lips made Julio take a step back one again. Riley then launched forward, stabbing and punching the teenage boy in front of her.

Nothing could stop her from hurting him, her anger only growing as she sliced at his body, the crimson blood oozing out of the cuts and onto the floor.

Riley felt something in her brain snap, wondering if it was her sanity before a huge grin starts to take place on her face.

The teenagers in front of her stared in terror, not knowing how to react to what they were seeing.

Riley’s irises had changed to cut pies, similar to the old Pac-Man, and her mouth was stretched up to her ears in a Cheshire cat like grin. Her teeth had sharpened. Ink oozed down her face, coving an eye as she shoved the tall teen against a wall, her knife long forgotten. Something flowed down Riley’s forehead, covering her eyes till the only thing she saw was the dark oozing color of ink

Her arm starts taking a different form, the ink crawling up and forming a long spiked spear. The boy she had against the wall sobbing. Riley felt her grin widen even more at the sounds he was making, inky drool slowly falling to the ground as she lifted her arm up and stabbed him in the abdomen. She didn’t stop there though, no, Riley couldn’t stop the anger she felt.

Angry because her mother hasn’t texted her.

Angry because Mandy wouldn’t defend herself from her boyfriend.

Angry because Devin was running away, phone in hand and calling the cops.

Angry because the boy under her was surprisingly still alive.

So she did what only her biggest role model did.

She turned to where she had abandoned her knife earlier, her arm lifting up and shooting a strand of ink at it and yanking it towards her.

That was just like spiderman! She turned back to the kid who was still clinging on to life, her giant grin turning to a huge sharp toothed sneer as she started stabbing him repeatedly in anger and madness. The only thing that stopped her murderous rage was when the police arrived. They found her sitting next to the body, that Cheshire grin once again on her face as she watched her masterpiece.

Julio Henderson had fifty three stab wounds, thirty in his abdomen and the rest either on his chest or throat. His face had dark bruises on it from Riley’s punches and he had deep claw marks on his arms and cheek. The cops stared at Riley, hunched over and giggling as she talked to something that wasn’t there.

It was hard for the cops to get the girl into their car but once they did she was driven down to the police station. Once she had arrived they had dragged her to a room and sat her down.

“Full name?”

“Riley Diana L-Law-Lawrence.”

“Age?”

“Si-si-sixteen.”

“Family?”

“Lori Lawrence, m-m-mother, Dylan Greene, h-h-her boyfriend.”

“Lori Lawrence? The lawyer?” The man stared at Riley with wide brown eyes. He was an average man with combed back hair and a frown. Riley nods.

“We didn’t know she had a daughter.”

“S-she doesn’t s-speak of m-me muh-much..” he makes a face, something that looks like a ‘I can see why’ look.

“Motive for attacking?”

“Devin ha-has b-been abusing m-my best friend. His fuh-fuh-friend had th-the nerve to do it a-as well and I snapped.”

He nods, writing something down before getting up. Riley started giggling to herself, looking down at her cuffed hands before bursting into laughter. The sound of her joy echoing through the halls.

When the man returned, all he found was a couple of drops of ink and the cuffs laying on the chair, the echo of Riley’s laughter sounding through the room as the man ran out in a panic.

NEW KILLER ON THE LOOSE

There’s a new killer on the loose, many know her as Riley D. Lawrence, the daughter of Lori Lawrence, the lawyer. Lori is devastated at the thought of her daughter going insane and is retiring from her job in hopes of waiting for her daughter to come home. No one knows where Riley is but we do know that she is near. Last night a boy by the name of Justin was murdered by Riley, his organs were hanging from the chandelier and his upper body was outside of his home. The words ‘The Artist’ were written on his room’s wall multiple times. It appears that she won’t be leaving anytime soon.

A scoff rang through the kitchen, the sound of a fork scraping a plate heard. Lori glared at the paper, glancing down at her phone that marked the time.

11:22

In half an hour she would be leaving on a date with Dylan.

“She just wants attention..” she muttered, standing up and turning to go to the living room.

A giant puddle of ink stopped her.

Lori stared at it in confusion, that had not been there when she walked into the kitchen. The ink was bubbling, dark huge bubbles of ink and after a couple seconds a giant bubble appeared and popped.

Lori stared in terror at the sight. It was a girl, with long wavy chocolate brown locks and hazel eyes. But her irises were cut pies, like the old Pac-Man or Mickey Mouse and she sported a Cheshire cat like grin that went up to her ears.

The Artist glared at her mother, her grin ever present as her mother took two steps back in fear.

“Hi, muh-mommy.” she whispered, ominously.

There was another figure standing in the shadows, shaggy burnt hair and white leathery skin making Lori scream as she realized her daughter had a partnership with Jeff the Killer.

Riley wasted no time in stabbing her mother, a cackle leaving her lips as she stabbed her repeatedly.

Lori Lawrence was dead.

And The Artist was ready to go after many other people who had ruined her life.

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wannabemerida · 5 years ago

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I had so much fun writing my first kid fic with the help of my beta, @heartthrobphilly and basing it off of @bluevlvvt ’s artwork (the link above!) —— Word count: 2.6k Prompt: Phil offers to drive his friends daughter (lola) to her ballet lesson. he runs into a cute dad with his daughter rosie. he offers to drive lola to her ballet lessons every week after that. (slow plot development lol) Warnings: light cursing, angst —— It’s 3:02pm as Phil waits outside of Brookside Elementary School. According to Ian, Lola usually exits through this door and waits to be retrieved from the playground. So far, there’s no sign of the little blonde girl playing outside.

A shout of “Uncle Phil!” catches his attention and he turns around to the soccer pitch just in time to see the kindergartener running at him, embracing him in a hug when they collide. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m taking care of you tonight, remember? Your dad has a big business dinner, and your mom is in Wolverhampton for her job, yeah?”

“Ohhhhh, I just thought Grandma would be taking care of me again,” the six year old explains, not seeming particularly fussed.

“C’mon, let’s head home.”

Two hours later when Phil suggests they order Chinese to the brick house, Lola quickly shuts his craving down. “Uncle Phil, we can’t have Chinese tonight, Thursdays are always Kraft Dinner nights, dummy!”

“Hey Lola, are you done with your dinner? You have ballet soon and still need to get ready!” Seeing Lola’s face that has a bit of the cheesy noodles left on it from quickly scarfing down her meal, Phil grabs a paper towel from the roll on the kitchen counter.

“Yeah! Do you have my leotard?” Phil grabs the light green leotard out of the overnight bag that Lola had brought along, handing it to her with the napkin, (“Lols, you’re a mess!”) her slippers, and a pair of tights.

The drive to the Portner Ballet Studio takes about 15 minutes, with Phil accidentally hitting every red light possible. This causes Lola some distress, claiming that the five minutes she has before class “isn’t enough to talk to Rosie, and she’s the only nice one there that I like.”

Nevertheless, when the raven-haired man and his favorite “niece” enter the building, a small girl with fluffy brown hair immediately runs up to Lola and hugs her. “Rosie, this is my Uncle Phil!

“Lola! You’re finally here! Daddy said you might not be coming today because you’re normally here before me,” the brunette pauses, “but you’re here now, see, Daddy? I told you she would come!”

Phil is frozen. The man who walks up behind Rosie is the most beautiful person Phil has seen, and that’s saying something, considering that Chris Hemsworth exists. But no, the curly brown fringe, hazel eyes, tall, lanky stature, and his soft face (not to mention his monochrome aesthetic and “best dad in the world” travel mug) easily outrank even the likes of Thor.

“Um, hey?” Phil is snapped out of his trance, needing to be able to respond to the greeting. “You’re Lola’s uncle?”

“Well, um, sort of? I’m really good family friends with Lola’s dad, and so I’m kind of an unofficial uncle to her.” Had he been responding to anything else, Phil probably would’ve stuttered, but the number of times he’s had to explain the title makes it so he can explain perfectly, even in front of someone this stunning.

“I’m- I’m Dan.” The two men glance over at the young girls who are chattering animatedly.

“Oh, yeah, Phil Lester.” Dan holds his hand out for a handshake.

“Rosie’s my daughter,” he says quietly, but there’s no mistaking the fondness he has when he says it.

“I can tell, she looks just like you, without the black and white.”

“Oh, I guess we do? My parents keep saying she looks like, um, Angie-” Dan’s voice decrescendos as he gets further along his sentence.

“Angie … is Rosie’s mom?”

“Oh, um, yeah.” Phil’s heart drops.

“Cool.” Not cool. Dan has a wife. Dan had a kid. With his wife.

“Have you got any kids?” Dan asks, a light blush still visible across his cheeks.

“Ah, no, I didn’t have time to find someone in Uni and now I’m single with 2 masters degrees.” Phil unconsciously plots a way to make himself seem more interesting.

“What are they in?” Dan asks, looking genuinely curious.

“I got my first one in English language and linguistics, and my second in post-production editing.”

“What do you do with those? How do they fit together?”

“I’m a special effects engineer for Disney, and they don’t really fit together to be honest,” Phil pauses, “although I do make YouTube videos and that kind of meshes them together,”

“Wow, um, cool,” Dan stutters.

“So what about you?”

“Huh?”

“What’s your job, besides ‘best dad in the world’?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m stupid.” Phil giggles, thinking of how his father would reply with ‘Hi stupid, I’m dad!’. “But I’m a writer for Vogue and I dabble in fashion photography. It’s mainly just taking photos of Rosie if I’m being honest, but the photographers sometimes get sick and I end up doing the shoot.”

“Vogue? Like, the fashion magazine?” Phil doesn’t know much about fashion, but he’s seen the magazine numerous times in the Tesco checkout lane.

“Yeah, well, technically it’s British Vogue, but…”

“Yeah.”

There’s a calm but slightly awkward silence as the conversation loses direction. The two men avoid eye contact, not wanting to make it worse.

The silence is broken by Dan’s tenor voice. “So what films have you worked on?”

“I got to work a bit on Spiderman: Homecoming, but the Live-action Beauty and the Beast was pretty fun. You know the scene where the gold leaf comes off of the ceiling to go on Belle’s dress?” When Dan nods, Phil breaks out into a grin. “That was me.”

“Wow.” Dan breathes out. “After she saw that, she kept trying to put stickers on her ceiling in the hopes that they would transfer to her shirt. It was a nightmare.”

“Ah, sorry.”

“Nah mate, it was kind of funny as well. I’ve got a few photos that I’ll save for when she graduates.”

“She’ll love that,” Phil chuckles, and the deep, throaty sound makes Dan’s heart stutter. “So you’re into fashion?”

Dan blushes. “Yeah? I mean I can’t really afford any designers, but I’ll turn into a fanboy at times.”

“Why do they charge so much? Like, half of the suits these designers make look identical to something I could buy from a department store for thousands of dollars less.”

“Well, a lot of designers carefully hand-make every piece, whereas the stuff you get in a store has probably been made by a pre-programmed machine and poorly paid workers in a factory. There’s also differences in fabric types, quality, and origins. And, a lot of designers will tailor the suit to perfectly fit you for a slightly higher price. If you go to a department store-”

“I see what you mean when you say you turn into a fanboy, but thank you for the mini lesson on why celebrities are willing to spend so much money on a navy tux. Your insights are amusing.” Phil grins.

“Did you also know that navy suits are better investments than black ones? It’s because the blue fits into so many more settings than a black one.”

While Phil could watch Dan talk about his passions for hours, just watching and memorizing how the lines change across his face, and God, that dimple, Phil supposes his relentless staring would get a bit creepy. “So what are the ballet lessons like? I’ve only been to a few of Lola’s performances.”

“Oh, um, well, they spend the first 20 minutes warming up, and then they move to the barre where they practice a bunch of stuff that’s in French that I can’t remember, and then they start to go over the routine for their next performance.”

“What is it?”

��What?”

“Their next performance?”

“Yeah! Sorry, I’m stupid,” Dan blushes for what must be the fiftieth time since he first met Phil. “The studio is putting on The Firebird.”

“No! Um, I mean, you’re not stupid. I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with The Firebird. What is it about?” Phil has heard the name before, but only in the context of movie scores resembling Stravinsky’s composition. “It sounds kind of intense, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, um, I don’t know much, but from what Rosie’s told me, the firebird gets caught by a prince and when he lets her go she helps him defeat the magician to save some princess, but I’m pretty sure I’m missing like half of the plot. I would say to just Google it and not to go by my word,” The nervous laughter emitted by Dan makes Phil instantly worry that he might have made the brunet uncomfortable or misread Dan’s friendliness as a blossoming friendship when it might have been a ploy to gather gossip for the nosy ballet moms.

“Thanks, I think I’ll trust you on that.” Dan offers a small smile at Phil’s response, letting the two men fall into silence as they watch the group of young girls and 3 boys practice their pliés and dégagés. An hour and a half later, the children exit the studio and find their guardians to go home.

“It was nice meeting you, Phil,’’ Dan admits as Rosie and Lola exchange a goodbye hug. The six words send Phil’s heart into overdrive and he feels his cheeks heating up.

“Yeah, you too, Dan,” Phil replies, proud of himself for not tripping over his words. Looking back, Phil’s whole interaction was impressive, considering his track record of ending up injured in some way.

Last time, Phil wound up with a broken ankle, having paid more attention to the cute digital renderer than the set of stairs they were walking down. It wasn’t all for nothing, though, Phil having gained the cute man’s phone number. Not that that did much for his love life, finding out two days that the boy he had his eyes on was dating the very female gaffer of their most recent movie, but that’s not the point.

This time, nothing will happen, because a) Phil dropping Lola off at ballet was a one time thing, so most likely, he’ll never see Dan again, and b) Dan has a daughter, who is his genetically, which means he has (or had) a wife, all summarizing that no matter how cute the brunet is, Dan is straight.

Not that Phil’s brain will accept that Dan is off-limits as a possible partner. Over the next few days, the image of soft brown eyes, curly fringes, and lanky limbs continuously make appearances in the back of Phil’s head. The very effective distractions cause Phil’s co-workers to worry, and PJ’s repetitive “have you been sleeping okay?”s have driven Phil to the point of insanity.

The answer to PJ’s question is quite easily “no”, Phil having only slept well once that week (he refused to admit it but that was the night that he got off to the image of a faceless figure who looked suspiciously like the boy who wouldn’t leave his head.)

By Wednesday, Phil was fed up with his brain’s reaction to not having seen Dan since the previous Thursday. Pulling out his phone, he does the only thing he can think of to satisfy his hungry mind. He calls Ian.

“Phil? Do you need something?” is the answer he gets when Ian finally picks up.

“No, um, I was just wondering, would you like me to take Lola to ballet again tomorrow?” Phil looks at the lines he had written down on a notepad, an effort to keep himself from going into a 20-minute rant about how in love with Dan he is.

“Sure, I guess? Why are you offering?”

“Just thought that you and Pam could use a break,”

“Oh, okay then, thanks! Same as last week?”

“Sure! Talk to you later!”

Phil’s convinced that his squeal of excitement was the reason that the people who lived across the street turned their lights on and not the fact that their smoke detector went off. He probably set that off too, in hindsight. And caused the stove fire.

23 hours later, Phil finds himself standing inside the dance studio again, surrounded by shrieking kids, chattering parents, and the faint sound of the top 20 radio playing in the background.

“Mister Phil! Where’s Lola?” Rosie pulls on Phil’s sleeve, stopping when she sees her best friend walk out of the bathroom.

“Why, Miss Rosie, she’s right there!” Rosie giggles, pulling out of a hug with Lola.

“I know that now, silly.” She and Lola run into the studio, eager to get to do the optional partner stretches before class starts.

“Are you Lola’s father?” A woman dressed in a skirt suit and heels walks up behind Phil.

“Oh, no, I’m just a family friend. I occasionally take Lola to ballet to give her parents some alone time.”

“Ah.” The woman sticks her hand out for a handshake. “I’m Angela Wright, Rosie’s mom.”

Had there been a small creature under it, Phil’s heart would have killed it from the speed at which it fell. He knew that Rosie had a mom, that Dan had a wife, that Dan wasn’t available. So why did it still hurt so much?

“Oh, cool,” Phil responds a moment later, his voice considerably deflated.

Phil’s unspoken question is answered right as it pops into is head. “Dan contracted the flu, and is stuck at home in bed, which is why I’m here this week. I’m normally responsible for taking Rosie to taekwondo while he takes care of ballet lessons, but that evidently won’t work this week. Honestly, it’s just like Dan to get a winter disease in the middle of summer.”

“I was going to ask about setting up a playdate between Rosie and Lola, but…” Angie trails off.

“Yeah,” Phil nods in understanding, not liking this woman any more than he did a minute ago. “I’m gonna go sit down.” No response comes from the woman, but Phil’s not particularly bothered.

Maybe he should be nicer to the wife of the man he’s stupidly trying to woo, but he just can’t. How is he supposed to be nice to his competition, who’s already clearly won?

When he vaguely notices the ballet instructor make a big motion with her arms, Phil decides that watching a group of five and six year olds is an adequate distraction from the turmoil in his brain. After 10 minutes of watching the kids do various tasks, jumping and prancing around the room, he zones off.

“Uncle Phillll, come onnnnnnn!” wakes Phil from his trance, no longer seeing the ballet students in the studio but now milling around the lobby and leaving. “Class ended like, forever ago! Can we leave? I wanna go get ice cream!”

A quick look at the clock told Phil that class had only ended 5 minutes ago, but to an antsy six-year-old, he supposed that could feel like an eternity.

“Lola, we aren’t getting ice cream. I’d rather not have your parents be mad at me for loading you up on sugar, right?” The small girl pouts but grabs Phil’s hand, dragging him to the car.

While it was easy getting Lola into her car seat, getting her out was a whole other task. It took Phil, Ian, Pamela, a blanket, 2 stuffed animals, and a lullaby to successfully remove the sleeping child out of the carseat, into the house, and onto her bed where she could sleep without interruption.

Once he was back in his car, Phil sat in the driveway, resting his head on the steering wheel, regretting ever offering to take Lola to dance lessons at all. Remember back in college when all those crushes were single? You fucked up, bud.

#phan #phanfiction #phanfic #phan au #kid au #parent Phan au #parent Phan #Rosie Howell #ballet Phan au #Dan and Phil #dnp #soft Dan #shy Dan Howell #heart eyes Howell #love eyes Lester

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creativeashproductions · 4 years ago

Text

Magician Behind the Music // Owen Joyner

sagSummary: Being in a studio recording songs is an intimidating experience for anyone regardless of age. Wanting the best in the business for his soundtrack Kenny Ortega brings his cast to the best in the business. Heading the production is no ever than Y/N with a certain sparkle when it comes to the tall blonde.

Warning: Swearing, insecurity, oblivious!reader and fluff

Words: 2.1k

A/N: I know nothing about producing songs so I ended up winging it. About time I make a fic for Owen

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

The studio had the sound of music as a group of people walk down the hall of the building that housed world-renowned recording studio. The office chair was leaning back as a figure sat listening to the nearly finished album. Forest green Sanuk slip-on shoes on the feet of the individual the door opening wasn’t heard.

“Girls you wanna hear the finished product?” You questioned from your seat behind the large control panel. The four girls on the video chat excited responded enthusiastic band members.

Not needing anymore push the song replaced the one that had been playing as background noise. Sliding the volume up the music, you had both produced and featured played through the speakers. As the pre-chorus and the chorus came, you couldn’t help but start singing.

I find peace in every story you told

I think of you, I’ll never be alone

It’s true, true, true

You know I do, do, do

Oh, I need you more than words can say

Oh, you save me in ways that I can’t explain

Always been there for me, now I’ll do the same

Oh, I need you more than words can say

All five that poured themselves on the song couldn’t help but bop along with the catchy words and beat. By far, one of your most favourite songs you ever co-wrote, feature and produce. You and little Mix had been desiring to co-work on something for years now.

“That pre-chorus and chorus are the favourites of my career!” You excitedly announced glancing up the glass separating the booth from the control room. Your face found a handful of young adults and Kenny in the reflection.

“It’s gonna be a bop to sing!” Perrie agreed with her hair in messy space buns sitting at her computer desk in comfy clothes.

Jesy, Leigh-Anne and Jade wore similar loungewear in the safety of their homes after travelling out of LA back to England. An entire week spent solely on writing music and recording with a few sleepover nostalgic of the teen years.

“I gotta go. My next clients are here.” You told the excited British girl group before your cursor ended the video chat.

Pushing off with your toe on the floor, you faced the group seated taking in the awed expressions from the song. Part of you is annoyed at the blatant disregard of professionalism and the potential of the song being leaked.

“Charlie, Owen, Jeremy, and Madison this is my friend Y/N. She’s a musician, songwriter and a producer.” Kenny spoke, waving towards your seat position at the forefront of the control panel.

Your eyes gleamed brighter with the teal blue cable knit sweater paired with a pair of fitted blue jeans. The pros of being a producer in a recording studio meant the work attire was relaxed compared to desk jobs. It appeared this group was similar.

“Hello.” You spoke standing up to be closer to the group, “I believe you have a soundtrack needed? I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I’d like to ask that the song you overheard not be spoken about again.”

“I’m Charlie.” The brunette with a white hat put on backwards immediately shook your hand. Even with the hat, you could tell his hair was a gorgeous brown that contrasted his pretty eyes hazel green eyes.

“Hi Charlie.” You smiled at the male before stepping around him to the other three people in the room. The only other girl in the room was most definitely the lead of whatever show Kenny was currently doing.

“You’re Madison.” You spoke, taking in her youthful appearance and the quiet wisdom flowing within her eyes, the colour of dark coffee grounds. Her hair was down in her natural texture, resting on the shoulders of her muted olive green shirt.

“Jeremy.” Came from the shorter boy with startling rich dark brown almost black hair and eyes you couldn’t discern between blue or green. His cheeks a permanent pink flush but an infectious grin, “How are you?”

“My collaborators for a song liked it, and I’m not going to explain what you’ll be doing in the booth.” You replied gesturing to the enclosed space with the microphone and a stand of instruments.

Brushing off any other details you finally came to the only nameless individual in the room with the only blonde head of hair.

“Owen.” The blonde spoke softly with his eyes nearly begging to leave your expression with the anxiety building. This was so new for Owen, and unlike anything, he had ever experienced before in his life.

“Take a seat.” You motioned towards the long couch against the wall opposite the recording booth. It was a plus that extended couch perfect for a short nap after a near all-nighter. Your studio was the only one with such a good sofa.

“I’ve worked with Kenny on his Descendants series with the cast along with strictly only musicians. I say this with respect with Kenny, but if you don’t respect me or my process, I won’t hesitate to end this. It’s in the contract.” You sternly told the young individuals, “That being said. Your voice is an instrument that needs to be cared for. You need to be careful with it.”

The vocal coach dove into a more detailed list of the items not to be ingested by actors. The same thing happened with every new client you met after the horror film of a massacre a few years previous. As they went over, you looked over the schedule.

The binder was thick with the different songs in the series with jot notes in the margins. Kenny sat in the other chair, looking at them.

“So, Jeremy is the only one with experience?” You questioned glancing up at your elder with a look of curiosity. Kenny nodded with a fond smile, “Okay so let’s get his vocals for the first song recorded. That way, the others have a first-hand look at how it happens.”

Jeremy was quick to rid himself of his jacket to slide into the booth with the headphones resting on only one ear. In two hours, you had guided Madison and Charlie through their parts of this session. Your mouth opened to invite Owen into the booth but his demeanour concerned you.

“Kenny, how about we take a break for lunch?” You subtly guided Kenny to look at Owen before he quickly agreed.

Charlie was practically skipping out of the recording studio with his hands nudging Jeremy on his way out. Madison, led by her father, left right after leaving Owen to just about exit the room.

“Hey Owen?” You spoke, bringing the tensed young man’s attention, “Can you give me a moment?”

His head of thick blonde hair hesitantly nodded as Kenny followed the other cast members out of the room. Gently nudging the door closed you guided him to sit on the couch with you stationed in the office chair.

“First time recording is a bitch of pressure. I completely understand because I’ve guided people and been guided in the booth.” You began leaning forward to meet his eyes, “I know as someone with anxiety it’s intimidating. Let me know. Whatever you tell me will stay between us.”

Owen was quiet, “I’ve done other projects. I’ve never had the opportunity to have a role as a drummer. I guess this is overwhelming.”

“How about you hop into the room, and we mess around with a song?” You questioned, “I can show you how I produce if you’d like.”

“I’d like that.” Owen’s lips curved just a fraction into a ghost of a smile with the tension in his shoulders melting.

For the next two hours, you spent time in the booth explaining the equipment’s role in the recording. After he gave a short lyric, you invited him to sit by the soundboard with you to walk him through it. All the while, you shared the pizza you had ordered for both of you.

“I started in the business as background vocals for a few bands before I delved into my own career as a musician. I believe I was about seventeen when I got to be part of people getting the songs ready for fans. I fell in love and find it more fun behind the soundboard.” You informed the blonde listening to a recent song you had finished.

“This is insanely cool. I think I’m ready to record my parts.” Owen admitted playing with his fingers. In response, you typed out a quick message to Kenny, bringing the other people back after a long break.

As much as you would have loved creating the soundtrack, it wasn’t possible with your other commitments. Leaving the work in Alana’s capable hands, you had been packing for your visit to the UK for performing the song with Little Mix. Owen, having the day off, had found himself in your apartment as he had for the last few weeks.

“Do you really have to go?” Owen whined, staring at with his head tilted back on the couch. Lips pursed in a pout and blue eyes shining sadly.

“As much as I would adore falling for that look, we both know I have to.” You admitted dropping packing to snuggle into his side, “What’s up with you lately?”

“What do you mean?” He questioned, rolling his head on the back of the couch you look at you. From the position, he couldn’t see your face, but that didn’t stop him from staring.

“It’s hard to describe, but you get flustered when certain songs come on. You’ve been ditching the cast to spend time with me.” You listed off, staring off into the distance, “You got Charlie to drive in the opposite direction of your work to pick me up.”

“What kind of songs?” Owen inquired with one arched eyebrow high. You shifted to stare up at the soft look in his pretty blue eyes.

“It was some duet from that tv series about the High School Musical films…” Your sentence trailed off as everything clicked, “You have feelings for me.”

“Thought it was blatantly obvious. I danced with you in the rain at midnight while I sang to you. I think that’s the most obvious action.” Owen chuckled brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as he took in the startled expression

Owen had walked you home after a late recording session with the cast talking each other’s ear off with different subjects. His hand had slid into yours as he tugged you into the ice cream shop on the way; a scoop each. His eyes glued to every move you made with passion behind every single word.

“-they came to me about a song. It’s a surprise for Kenny, I suppose.” Your one holding the ice cream cone nearly went flying with the motion you made. Your other clasped in Owen’s without even realizing it.

“So, it’s the last song you’ll be helping us on, right?” Owen asked halting to toss the napkin from his cone in the closest bin. You followed suit while intertwining your fingers back together.

“The girls want to do a short little radio tour to promote the single. It would be a month most likely to brainstorm new ideas for songs. We’ve all agreed to collaborate in the future.” You informed the nineteen-year-old. He was a year and a half younger than you.

“When-”

Your sudden squeal cut him off as the sky opened up to a sudden pouring of rain on the two of you. Had you not been so focused on the conversation you would have seen the cloudy sky and the light drizzle of rain.

“Whoa!” Owen laughed, tugging you into his arms in a complete act of spontaneity. His voice softly singing one of your favourite songs.

As he twirled you around in the rain, he serenaded you with Edwin McCain’s song ‘I’ll Be’ unapologetically sharing a piece of himself. It seemed the universe took pity on the male by allowing him to dance smoothly with his friend.

“This is my favourite song.” You giggled as he dipped you with one of your legs in the air. The joy in your features melting the actor’s heart.

“You’ve been playing it every day for the last week.” Owen beamed, leaning his forehead on yours as he trailed off the end of the song, “I’ve memorized every lyric in it.”

With rainwater dripping down your nose the words settled in your mind cementing something you had been only slightly aware of. Playing that song often meant one thing: you had deep feelings for someone.

The someone being Owen Joyner.

“I’m kind of stupid.” You snorted turning to wrap your arms around his neck, “I’ve got no doubts I fell in love with you in that dance.”

Owen’s grin preceded a toe-curling kiss that was the first of many that would happen.

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

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#owen joyner imagines #owen joyner x reader #owen patrick joyner #julie and the phantoms imagines #jatp fanfic #owen joyner #jatp #julie and the phantoms #caitsy and ash productions

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ashrelfury · 6 years ago

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AFTG Super Powereds AU

(So...I started something and I’m not sure if its really worth continuing. It feels like its going to be so unbearable fucking long, kinda like the books this is an AU of. Super Powerds. Go check it out, its awesome. Anyways, heres what I’ve got so far. Let me know if you think this worth anything.)

Neil ducked his head as he made his way through the campus. His bright orange hoodie hung off his body awkwardly, and the hood was up and covering his hair.

Truly, his hair wasn’t the oddest color he’d ever seen, but it stood out and that was something that Neil couldn’t afford just yet. This was his first day of college after all, and he already had a good grasp on the rules of the program that he wasn’t going to be taking chances.

He’d spent too long running and hiding, but that wasn’t an option anymore. He was here to make his way through the damn program and come out of it a graduate, or face his death. Neil seriously thought he’d be done with having that constant threat hanging over his head, but no. He was pretty sure he’d end up living his whole life under someone else’s thumb.

Keeping his head down and walking fast, his duffle hanging over one shoulder, Neil made his way to the building that had been assigned as his dorm for the next year. Fox Tower. It wasn’t anything to look at on the outside, five stories tall, fairly big all things considered. If one didn’t know any better, they would believe this building to be just like all of the other housing units on campus.

One would be wrong.

Neil had extensively studied the map of Palmetto State University’s campus, and he’d made some educated guesses as to where the lifts were. Fox Tower was only one such possibility.

Not everyone in the building would be in the program, he already knew that. An entire building filled with students who took the same program would get all of them figured out very very quickly, completely undermining the secrecy statute, but Neil knew that his roommates would be.

Making his way into the building wasn’t too hard. Flashing his student ID was enough and soon he was standing in front of a door on the third floor numbered 317. This door also opened with his student ID.

As soon as he stepped inside though, he froze.

Damnit, he wasn’t the first one in. He’d woken up at the ass crack of dawn in the vain attempt to slip into his dorm uninterrupted and then leave so that he wouldn’t have to deal with his assigned roommates at all. Looks like all of his hopes were dashed rather quickly though,

“Hey! You must be our fourth roomie! I’m Nicky, nice to meet you!” An enthusiastic voice broke through Neil’s stillness and he tensed as a body came at him. Instincts screamed for him to strike first (Hesitate and you’ll die, Nathaniel.) but he managed to hold it back as he looked up at the face of the taller man.

Nicky’s skin was a dark tan, brown or black hair hanging in loose curls around his head, dark eyes sparkling with interest that made Neil’s skin crawl, and lips pulled into an easy looking smile, he also looked much older than Neil himself, maybe by five or so years, not unusual for college, but unusual in regards to the program. When he held out a hand to shake, Neil only looked down at the appendage and then back up at the other man’s face.

It took a long moment, but apparently, his denial of the handshake was enough to dim the smile, but to Neil’s chagrin, it didn’t dim it for long.

“Not much of a social butterfly then. That’s alright. My cousins aren’t either. They are going to be our other roommates. Andrew and Aaron. They’re twins, but they are pretty easy to tell apart. Aaron’s a healer, he speeds up the bodies natural healing though, so its more uncomfortable than instantaneous. Andrew’s an absorber, we think. We don’t actually know. He used to be a Powered, but we managed to pay for his-”

“That’s enough, Nicky.”

The sudden voice from behind the taller man made both him and Neil jump, and Neil palmed the knife he kept strapped to the small of his back until he glanced behind Nicky and spotted another man standing in front of a hall that likely lead to the dorm’s five bedrooms.

Neil took in the man. White blond hair cut short with bangs falling into brown gold eyes, small stature but a fit body. Likely a fighter of some kind, the way he held himself was telling. It didn’t look like the blond guy knew the meaning of ‘dodge’ let alone ‘retreat’ and Neil knew his antagonistic nature was going to get him in trouble if the blond ever became his opponent.

Shit. He hadn’t even started the program and he already wasn’t liking his chances of graduating.

“Sorry, Andrew. I-” Nicky started to talk again as the blond, Andrew, sized Neil up just as Neil had done to him not seconds before. Whatever he found, he wasn’t impressed.

“Nicky.” Andrew warned, an edge to his somewhat monotoned cadence. It instantly shut the taller teen up and Neil was somewhat glad for whatever power the short blond had on the talkative brunette because Neil wasn’t sure how much more of the rambling he could handle before his temper got away from him. If there was one purpose Nicky served though, was as a well of information. He’d learned the abilities of two of his roommates so far and maybe he could use that to his advantages later on.

“Go away, Nicky.” Andrew ordered, stepping away from the mouth of the hallway. Nicky seemed to hesitate, looking back at Neil once before quickly making his way out of the common room.

Once Nicky was gone, it was just Neil and Andrew, staring at each other. Neil felt a bit awkward for it, so he decided to break first.

“Hi. I’m Neil.” He offered politely, nodding but not attempting to get anywhere near the other boy. Nicky had never told him just what Andrew absorbed, so Neil wasn’t about to risk it. There were many talents that branched from the absorber tree, Neil should know that better than most.

A pale blond eyebrow arched, but the shorter man did nod back. “Yes. We’ve heard.”

And just like that, all of Neil’s guards were up. He felt himself stiffen and couldn’t withhold the reaction, wasn’t quick enough to tell himself that Andrew was just trying to get a reaction out of him. Andrew must have gotten exactly the reaction he’d wanted, because he tipped his head to the side and eyed Neil like he was inspecting encrypted documents.

“Huh. Interesting.” Andrew murmured mostly to himself, and Neil felt himself bristle. It didn’t matter though. He couldn’t allow himself to explode. Not here and not now. He was not going to get into a fight with one of his roommates just after walking into the dorm room. What if the people running the program retracted his scholarship? What if he was kicked out of Palmetto for fighting on campus? Kengo would kill him in the blink of an eye and everything his mother had done to try to keep him alive would have been for nothing. He had to avoid Andrew. Whatever he knew, none of it could be used against him.

So Neil gathered his composure, blanked his expression, and walked forward. The closer he got to Andrew, the more he noticed about the blond. His eyes were a golden hazel, his bottom lip full and scarred on the left side corner vertically, there was also a scar bisecting his right eye brow, and last but not least, the man was shorter than him. Not by much, but Neil was 5’3 so it was very unusual to find shorter men.

As he moved past Andrew, Neil felt himself coiling, readying for a fight he wasn’t entirely sure was coming. As he moved past, their eyes met and Neil’s breath caught in his chest. He hurried past, looking away quickly.

“Your rooms either the one at the end of the hall or the second on the right. They’re the only ones who wouldn’t open for the rest of us.” Andrew’s voice called at his back.

Neil made the mistake of looking back, only to find Andrew’s careful stare still on him. As he tried the biometric scan on the second door to the right, it flashed green and the door’s lock clicked. Neil scurried in and shut it behind him, taking a deep uneven breath as he pressed his back onto the dark brown material.

Rooms have been set up for each attending member by the Program. These will be stocked for each member as deemed necessary. Communal areas are open to all but will be under the jurisdiction of your administrators. You will be expected to be in the communal area promptly at 7 to speak to your administrators about dorm rules.

The letter he’d gotten not two months ago had said. He wasn’t sure if it was normal for every student in the program, or if it was just because of what and who he was. Being sponsored by some very powerful people had its appeal, but if it were up to Neil, he wouldn’t be anywhere near the HCP.

He wasn’t Hero material. He wasn’t the kind to save people, or risk himself for someone else. He wasn’t noble or self-sacrificing. Yet he was forced here and he would either graduate a Hero or die.

Four years. He had four more years of bought freedom before his fate would be decided for him. He’d either pass as one of the 10 students graduating from the Palmetto State University’s Hero Certification Program, or he would be nothing more than another body burned on the side of the road.

Andrew was curious.

Not that he cared very much about his own curiosity. Since getting control of his abilities, since going from Powered to Super, Andrew hadn’t cared about much except for Aaron and maybe Nicky on a good day. Hell, the only reason he was in Palmetto in the first place was because Aaron wanted to join the HCP as a field healer. It didn’t really matter to Andrew, but if he wanted to stick with Aaron and protect him like he’d promised, Andrew had to join the god-awful Hero Certification Program.

Worse than that, he had to graduate.

For things to happen the way they are supposed to, he and Aaron had to graduate together. The only catch being Nicky.

While his cousin was going into his junior year at the HCP, Andrew honestly doubted he’d make it any farther than that. Nicky wasn’t cut out to be a Hero. If the freshman and sophomore years hadn’t focused on self-training, and group-training respectively, Andrew was positive his cousin wouldn’t have come as far as he had.

As he watched the new little anomaly walk skittishly into his room, Andrew debated on what to do. Neil Josten had been assigned as their roommate specifically because of his shady files. He’d broken into Coach Wymack’s office during the summer and the little shade’s file had been sparse at best and swiss cheese at worst.

Not even his power was recorded. It merely stated he was a Healer and left it at that, which is not something anyone being considered for the HCP should get away with recording as their Talent. Even Aaron had specified his healing abilities because the Dean wouldn’t let either of them into the program without thorough background checks.

Maybe that had been Andrew’s fault.

With his background in foster care, his arrests, his trial, the deaths of Tilda Minyard and Drake Spear spanning a year apart. Andrew hadn’t covered his tracks all that well, but it had been well enough. No one knew the real extent of his abilities, and everyone wanted the information. He was the first of his kind, after all. A twin, born Powered, and now turned Super. Any scientist worth their salt would want to know everything about him, how his powers differed from his brothers, how they were the same, how he had ended up Powered in the first place. Was it the separation at birth? The stresses of foster care?

So many stupid question and all Andrew wanted to do was punch every single board member in the jaw with every ounce of kinetic power he’d stored up during his long and gratuities life.

He’d refrained, which had been a real shame at the time.

It didn’t matter now. What mattered was making sure he got as far into this farce of a program as Aaron did. As a healer, Aaron had more potential for graduation than most, but even healers had their requirements.

A field healer needed to learn how to protect themselves. They needed enough skill to survive, if not fight back entirely. Why his brother was pursuing this, Andrew didn’t know, and he didn’t care. It was a path and he was now walking it too. It was more than he’d expected a year ago.

Moving back into his room, he debated what he would do with the little shade.

Mysteries were annoying, and secrets even more so. Andrew needed a way to break the other man, but it would be hard when he didn’t know Neil’s powers, and thanks to Nicky, Neil knew a bit about his.

And then there was the other roommate.

Kevin Day.

If his research had been correct, Kevin was the grandson of Legacy, meaning his powers were gravity aligned in some way. Then again, his father was the great Nick Campbell, and no one had forgotten about the man’s control of probability.

So many new toys to play with…

Maybe this wouldn’t be as boring as he’d believed it would be.

And maybe today, during the Ranking Fights, he’d be able to break someone’s bones. It was something to look forward to at least.

#AFTG AU #All for the game #Neil Josten #Andrew Minyard #Nicky Hemmick #Another AU based on a book #super powereds by drew hayes #Andreil

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